As with any great love, the obvious things draw you in first: baseball, Forest Park, price tags cheaper than Chicago’s. Your appreciation for all those things grows over time, as you come to discover more. But what hooks you are the subtle nuances: the Delmar Loop on a Saturday afternoon, a fresh batch at Donut Drive-In, the curtain at the Tivoli…
1. Location, Location, Location
We have the South’s hospitality, the North’s social concern, the East’s intellectualism, the West’s self-reliance. We eat black-eyed peas and chipotle barbecue; summer in Michigan and winter in Naples; read Emersonian transcendentalism and mutter, “Show me!” We’re smack in the middle, and extremes don’t throw us off course.
2. The Loop at 4 p.m. on a Saturday
Walk, watch, sit, listen, smile.
3. A Keg That Never Goes Dry
Where to begin on the menu of microbrews in a city where beer magnates have long reigned supreme? How about the A’s: Alandale, Amalgamated, Augusta. Then again, we should mention Buffalo, Morgan Street, and Mattingly. And let’s not forget Square One, O’Fallon, and Trailhead. (Did we leave out Schlafly and A-B? We’ll save those for the next round.)
4. Parking in a Pinch
We’re spoiled. New Yorkers park in our no-parking zones because a ticket’s cheaper than an NYC parking spot. Granted, we’ve lost the old penny meters, but name 10 favorite destinations, and we’ll wager there’s free parking a stone’s throw from most of them. As a result, we’re all a bit less frazzled. We have more money to spend. We make fewer crazed U-turns. And we know our side streets the way a Sherpa knows his mountain.
5. Restaurant Heavies Are Big on Skill, Slim on Ego
St. Louis is jam-packed with fantastic restaurant talent—but what’s most unique is the vast number of owners and chefs who are practiced, pleasant, and present. Most everyone who visits Pappy’s Smokehouse has met owner Mike Emerson, because he’s almost always there. If the line is short, he’ll greet you at your table; if it’s long, he’s the one handing out complimentary dry-rub ribs. At Cyrano’s Café, owner Charlie Downs might toss in something extra if he boxes up your leftovers. (Want your car warmed up? He wouldn’t hesitate.) Executive chef Josh Galliano is so personable, knowledgeable, and well-spoken, you’d think he was Monarch’s PR flack, rather than the guy who cured every item on your charcuterie plate. To those culinary captains—and the dozen other locals just like them—we say: Great food, great ’tude!
6. Songs of St. Louis
To rhapsodize about St. Louis’ musical heritage in a few hundred words is tough—but there are some key flash points. The first is the emergence of ragtime in the late 19th century. As Dennis Owsley notes in City of Gabriels, “Ragtime was the first national popular music, and St. Louis was its first center”—or more specifically, Tom Turpin’s Rosebud Café on Market Street was, where Scott Joplin, Louis Chauvin, and other composers gathered for “cutting contests” on Turpin’s piano. After jazz began to gain favor in 1917, musicians played on riverboats and in Gaslight Square venues, which drew national attention—and not just because the Smothers Brothers played the Crystal Palace. Clubs like Vanity Fair and The Dark Side showcased a range of local talent, including Jeanne Trevor, Cheri Ann Scheaer, Billy Peek, Trebor Tichenor, and Hugh “Peanuts” Whalum. Then, just as Gaslight Square was fading, a group calling themselves the Black Artists’ Group, or BAG, began experimenting with free jazz and interdisciplinary performance, mixing music with theater, dance, and even live painting. While there’s no shortage of famous names to drop—Chuck Berry, Tina Turner, Miles Davis, Albert King—environments such as Walnut Valley, midtown, and the near North Side incubated that talent.
7. Our Big Backyard
There’s something to be said about driving 15 minutes down I-44 and being surrounded by rolling hills and towering maples. St. Louis somehow balances urban amenities—major-league teams and fine eateries—with the serenity of the great outdoors. State parks like Castlewood and Pere Marquette (see No. 18) are among nature’s sprawling retreats, but gems like Powder Valley Nature Center and Meramec Highlands Quarry also abound. Serenity in our own backyard—seems like a natural pick to us.
8. Friendlier Fuel Prices
We admit to frequently whining about gas prices—after all, it’s the American way. But if you wanna feel better about filling up, take a drive across the Mississippi River. Or to Chicago. Or to either coast. The Show-Me State boasted the seventh lowest average gas prices in the country at press time, according to gasbuddy.com. It makes you realize that much-lamented pain at the pump could be much worse.
9. Housing’s Affordable
Why do so many St. Louisans go away for college and Part One of their careers, only to return to “settle down”? A big reason: That first “nice apartment” or “modest little house” might be realized a decade earlier than if they’d stayed in Chicago or D.C. (and three times that for San Fran or New York).
10. A Perfect Pace of Life
You know the feeling: Standing in line at the grocery store, tapping your foot, while the person in front of you chats with the clerk. Yes, it’s frustrating. But it’s also kinda reassuring to know that when someone asks “How’s it going?” she can still make time to listen. It’s that Southern hospitality, mixed with big-city briskness, that makes our pace of life seem just right.
11. Forest Park
At nearly 1,300 acres, it’s larger than Central Park. And besides the Zoo and Art Museum (see No. 41), it has a lengthy list of draws: the Science Center, the Boathouse, the History Museum, Steinberg Skating Rink, the Jewel Box, The Muny…not to mention the wooded havens, winding streams, and ever-present wildlife. Larger than some county municipalities, Forest Park remains the city’s point of pride long after the World’s Fair.
12. The Curtain at The Tivoli’s Main Theater
What’s better than catching a new flick on a Friday night? The anticipation that builds as the rich, burgundy velvet rises, rises, rises… Shhh, the movie’s starting.
13. We’re Getting Greener
It’s a group effort, this green thing—and that’s how it should be. We’re seeing anecdotal upticks in recycling and composting, more sustainability-focused businesses and initiatives cropping up, and just plain cool planet-minded stuff happening, from the brand new (downtown’s Roberts Tower, going for LEED Gold) to the old-as-new (Cannon Design’s highly cool quarters in the Power House Building, which already achieved LEED Gold).
14. A Word From David Robertson
We’re not talking about the Symphony’s “PreConcert Perspectives”—although those half-hour lecturettes are cool. We mean something briefer: The moment when maestro David Robertson turns to face the audience just before the program begins, offering unscripted remarks—perceptive, charmingly delivered—to prepare us for the sounds to come. You can feel the hall’s mood change in those 30 seconds.
15. Farm-Fresh Options
Years ago, the sole farmer’s market was in Soulard. Then the farm-to-feast movement sprung. Now you can get fresh produce everywhere, from Tower Grove to Wildwood, and it seems another market opens every spring. Here’s to plenty.
16. Awe-Inspiring Architecture
Our fair city abounds with wow-factor architecture. Beyond the Arch (see No. 25) and Donald Danforth Plant Science Center, we could spend forever gazing at St. Louis’ magnificent homes, such as the mansions of Westmoreland and Portland places, designed by Eames and Young; Mauran, Russell & Crowell; and others. Ignore the paved streets, and you’re back in the early 1900s.
17. Understated Style
Our publishing peer New York Magazine does a section called “Look Book,” featuring fashionable locals pulled from city sidewalks. Sometimes the looks involve fancy furs; other times they lean Goth. Here in the Midwest, though, a walk down Washington doesn’t equate to a strut down a catwalk—a good thing, in our book. Style in St. Louis is refined and sensible, without Prada prices. We’re happy to report that taste and comfort are always in.
18. Parks Aplenty
The City of St. Louis alone has more than 100 parks, including the granddaddy of ’em all, Forest Park (see No. 11). But drive beyond city limits, and you’ll find many more: 2,400-acre Babler State Park (with 13 miles of trails), 550-acre Lone Elk Park (with wandering elk and bison), Chesterfield’s Faust Park (with the Butterfly House and St. Louis Carousel)… We could go on.
19. We Live in Wine Country (Even if We Don’t)
It’s not just that wine is now a sizable business here (Missouri’s a top-10 state in U.S. production)—it’s our ability to so easily transition from the St. Louis workweek to a Saturday afternoon with our feet up and glass full at one of Missouri’s 70-plus wineries or one in southern Illinois. And while widely grown grapes like Norton will always have their fans, we’re excited to see regional vineyards branching out—as Chandler Hill did when it lent its land to pinot gris. Our glasses await…
20. Celebs Who Don’t Forget Where They Came From
Some stars leave anonymity—and their hometowns—forever. St. Louis natives, though, rarely do. Mad Men actor Jon Hamm visited John Burroughs High School last May before serving as honorary chair at the Center of Creative Arts’ COCAcabana. And after finishing her latest movie, A Little Help, actress Jenna Fischer will help raise funds for her own alma mater, Nerinx Hall High School, next month. There are plenty of others—John Goodman, Joe Buck, Kevin Kline—but perhaps no local celeb embodies hometown pride more than Nelly; not only does Cornell Haynes Jr. represent the Lou with his clothes and lyrics, he also brings friends together here for his annual Black and White Ball fundraiser.
21. The Giant Amoco Sign
Yes, it’s now a BP station—but what better way to give directions to out-of-towners, instead of saying Skinker and Clayton?
22. Scenic Routes and Worthwhile Cut-Throughs
There’s not room to print them all, so just picture yours (and then email it to us at feedback@stlmag.com). What are ours? Sappington, between Lockwood and Big Bend, those modern houses tucked off the main drag; the “crooked” white house facing Westborough Country Club, one side leaning into the other like a sleepy younger sibling. And Forsyth’s pretty enough, but if you need to hit Skinker, why not take Wydown? That too flat for your taste? Go west on Old Warson, then turn right on Warson, and enjoy the drive toward Litzsinger. Always in view: stunning homes—plus a horse or two.
23. Someone Nearby Could Be Discovering the Cure for Cancer
Scan news about the latest in cancer research, and there’s a good chance you’ll find mention of St. Louis. At Washington University’s Genome Center, scientists are analyzing entire DNA sequences to pinpoint potentially cancer-causing genetic flaws. But genomics is just one field of research at Siteman Cancer Center at Barnes-Jewish Hospital and Washington University School of Medicine. More than 350 researchers and doctors there are studying everything from proteomics (the study of proteins within cells) to neuro-oncology, and as part of BioMed 21, a multidisciplinary initiative launched at Wash. U. in 2003, the $235 million BJC Institute of Health will soon expand its research. That’s just the tip of the iceberg, though; visit cancerstl.org to see a list of local cancer-fighting organizations.
24. Brick Older Than Our Great-Grandparents
Live here, and you can see and feel the centuries, because St. Louis is a city of brick. Italian immigrants shaped the slick, heavy layer of clay beneath The Hill and Dogtown into more than 20 million bricks a year by 1839, and when fire destroyed a third of the city in 1849, a new ordinance forbade construction of wooden structures altogether. We like our buildings to outlive us.
25. The Arch
Other cities have forbidding walls and phallic towers. St. Louis has a single, daring gesture, held in perfect balance. As complex as it is simple, the Arch shows up at odd moments, glimpsed between buildings or at the end of an alley. It changes shape, mirrors sunsets, surprises and welcomes us, and urges us to explore.
26. Made in St. Louis
Granted, we’re nowhere near the manufacturing hub we once were, but more than 6 billion Tums tablets are produced at the factory downtown every year, and Os-Cal is also made locally. Boeing still builds planes here. And irrespective of its Belgian owners, the world’s bestselling beer is still brewed on Pestalozzi Street.
27. Donut Drive-In
Smell that? Fresh. Donuts. The wind is glazed, by God—let’s follow that heaven-sent scent. Inside now… There’s room enough for three, four of us. Ordering’s easy—“Donuts”—dropped into a plain white bag, folded over and now in your hand… Back out into the world, Route 66 underfoot, look up at that blessed neon sign—with oranges and pinks to make a sunset jealous—and know that life is good. And it’s about to get better.
28. Movies and Trends Arrive Here Last (Yes, That’s a Good Thing)
The coasts get everything first. Which means we don’t have to rush off to see movies, concerts, and shows on the basis of the gushings of one or two self-consciously avant-garde critics. By the time something reaches St. Louis—whether it’s The Spirit or sequined leggings—common sense has prevailed.
29. Fan Fair for the Common Man
There are festivals in neighborhoods (Mardi Gras in Soulard, Halloween in the Central West End), and then there are neighborhood festivals—that is, parades, street parties, and little fairs organized on the volunteer level, indelibly marked by their place. Some of our favorites include the Polish Festival at the Polish Falcons’ Nest on St. Louis Avenue, the Route 66 Festival on the Old Chain of Rocks Bridge, the Hibernian Parade in Dogtown, the Columbus Day Parade on The Hill, Cinco de Mayo on Cherokee Street, and Baden Taste, held in the 7900 to 8300 blocks of Broadway.
30. Cassilly! Cassilly!
Bob Cassilly’s antinomian spirit, as well as his ingenious use of salvaged materials, runs through everything he does. His projects, whether large (Big Eli, the four-story Ferris wheel on City Museum’s roof) or small (the Marlin Perkins statue at the Zoo), have been salt for zombies, proving St. Louis has not had a failure of imagination, as we’re often accused. In fact, it’s quite the opposite.
31. An Airport With First-Class Seats
Sure, Lambert–St. Louis International Airport’s showing its age: Hell, the Wright Brothers and Charles Lindbergh visited the site decades before architect Minoru Yamasaki fashioned the four-domed terminal. The airport’s since added the East Terminal (excuse us, Terminal 2) and will get another facelift this year. But what we love most about Lambert, besides its recent costarring role with George Clooney, is its first-class location: easy to reach from almost anywhere.
32. Manners Still Matter
Where else will cars brake to let pedestrians jaywalk in front of them? Where else is “ambitious” a wary adjective? Transplants shake their heads in bemusement when they realize that to most native-born St. Louisans, being nice means more than getting ahead. (If we argue over the check, it’s because we’re afraid the other person’s paying too much.) Maybe our niceness is just Midwestern, or the civilizing effect of all those nuns’ rulers. Maybe it’s because this is such a small town, its cliques a Spirograph set of intersecting circles. In any event, the kindness becomes habitual—and feels genuine. If a power broker takes a brash tone, eyebrows go up so fast, he might as well have walked in starkers. Of course, we don’t push envelopes; we fold ourselves neatly inside them. And all this sweetness is hell on reporters—nobody will say anything negative. Still, it makes living here kind of…nice.
33. Reason to Give Thanks
Considered by many to be the oldest high-school football rivalry west of the Mississippi, the standoff between the Kirkwood Pioneers and Webster Groves Statesmen—dubbed the Turkey Day Game—has been waged for the past 102 years. The teams battle on Thanksgiving for the 400-pound Frisco Bell. The loser gets a little brown jug—and a year of reminders from rival fans.
34. Creating Static at The Magic House
Located on The Magic House’s third floor, the museum’s classic attraction—the electrostatic generator—defines the term hair-raising. Place your hand on the steel ball, and your locks literally stand on end.
35. Thrills of The Hill
The Hill just looks charming, and you can soak it up through a car window: well-kept shotgun-style houses, the lawn Madonnas, the fireplugs painted the colors of the Italian flag. But you have to walk the blocks to really appreciate it. Play a round of bocce at Milo’s, sip a cup at Shaw’s Coffee, try on a hand-knitted sweater at Skif International, eat real Spanish caseras at Guido’s Pizzeria & Tapas, stock up on spices and cheeses from Urzi’s and DiGregorio’s markets, and step into Herbaria’s new digs on Marconi Avenue, where they make soap the old-fashioned way—in kettles.
36. Cardinals Nation
To hear Ken Burns, you’d think the Cardinals were born only to rival the mighty Yankees and rogue Red Sox. Think again. Sure, Steinbrenner’s babies outshine us in World Series wins, but you can’t outshine the fans here. As anyone knows, visiting downtown on a game day brings new meaning to the term “Red Sea.”
37. Tall Tales
St. Louis is awash in history, but certain occurrences transcend the usual litany of names, dates, and battle lines to become, well, almost mythological. Say, the invention of ice cream at the World’s Fair or the city-county split. We’d add the founding of the Veiled Prophet Ball and Parade, which was deliberate mythmaking. In 1877, the city saw a general strike that sent spasms of terror into the hearts of St. Louis’ elite. They responded with bread and circuses, a quasi–New Orleans debutante cotillion and parade constellated around a murky figure from a Thomas Moore poem—and it worked. Proof of how deeply St. Louis was under the sway of the prophet was revealed in 1972, thanks to another incredibly mythic gesture: Civil-rights activist Percy Green organized a group of debutantes to unmask the prophet, sending Gena Scott down a cable to snatch away His Majesty’s lacy mask. The prophet turned out to be Tom K. Smith, vice-president of Monsanto. The city was so shocked, the Post-Dispatch wouldn’t print his name in the paper.
38. Florist Row
For the past eight decades, the place to go for flowers has been LaSalle Street, between California and Jefferson avenues. While some of the florists here, like Baisch & Skinner and Harolds’ Wholesale, are to-the-trade only, others (e.g., Tom Carr, Walter Knoll) are open to all.
39. The New Highway 64/40
It’s those long, sweeping curves. The clean concrete. The classically lettered street names on the bridges, heightening the sense of place. And the fact that we can now move from point A to point B without a GPS, a city street guide, a quick online check for closed bridges, 30 extra minutes’ travel time, and the advice of seven coworkers.
40. Second-to-None Broadcasters
When Robert Hyland ran KMOX, the station pulled in broadcast’s best and brightest. There was Jack Carney every morning, Harry “Holy Cow” Caray and Jack Buck in the baseball booth, then the walking sports encyclopedia otherwise known as Bob Costas, and finally Joe Buck, who ultimately followed Costas in expanding to a worldwide audience.
41. Culture and Critters—Sans Admission
To get into New York’s Metropolitan Museum of Art or Museum of Modern Art, you need to plunk down $20 per adult; to explore the San Diego Zoo, expect to pay $37 for your ticket and $27 for your child; in Phoenix, the zoo costs $16 per adult and $7 for each child 12 or under. But our fair city’s Zoo and Art Museum? Zip. Zilch. Nada.
42. Resilient Neighborhoods
Though the city’s recovery has slowed since the bottom fell out of the economy, we’re thrilled to see that some neighborhoods aren’t just hanging tight, but thriving. The Cherokee-Lemp/Benton Park area has been adding businesses, including Foam, Borough Vintage, and Stirrup Pants Chapbooks. Morgan Ford now has so many flourishing bars, it hosted an ugly-sweater pub crawl this Christmas, unthinkable just a few years ago. Old North saw the opening of Urban Studio Café, the renovation of Jackson Park, and a grant to establish a co-op stocked in part by the community garden. And this spring, the 14th Street Mall—now Crown Square—will reopen across from Crown Candy Kitchen.
43. Seasons of Change
Two or three gray, damp, chilly days in a row, and all the misery in your life blurs together. But on an early spring day, when the sun warms your skin, and the light’s clear, and the grass is a fresh, wet green, you cherish every second of sensation. Then there’s autumn, with its red leaves and orange berries, golden slants of late-afternoon sunlight, skies as blue as a Swiss mountain lake… We have seasons, and they set our lives to their rhythm.
44. Storied Bellefontaine and Calvary Cemeteries
Many a subplot’s buried in the plots of these two majestic cemeteries. Auguste Chouteau and William Clark together negotiated peace treaties with the Ottawas, Chippewas, and Potawatomies; Black Eagle and Speaking Eagle were Nez Perce Indians who fell ill after meeting Clark and quizzing him about the white man’s Bible. David Francis directed the World’s Fair; writer Kate Chopin spent a long day there and died of a brain hemorrhage. The Lemp family’s Falstaff beer once outsold Adolphus Busch’s Budweiser. To the right of William Seward Burroughs, who invented the adding machine, disintegrates his grandson, William S. Burroughs, whose dissolute life gave us The Adding Machine anthology and Naked Lunch (which we doubt Joy of Cooking author Irma Rombauer ever read). Then there’s Tennessee Williams, who once won the Sara Teasdale prize and is now buried near her—despite his oft-repeated instruction to his friends to bury him at sea.
45. The Smell of Hops in the Morning
Vegetal, grainy, gray-green, and pungent: whether the odor of hops emanating from the brewery reminds you of a satyr’s breath or dirty socks, you know you’re in St. Louis when you smell it—which makes it utterly comforting.
46. Kids Can Be Kids
No matter how far you roam, St. Louis is a natural pick when it comes time to settle down and have kids. In many municipalities, the schools are great, and the tree-lined streets seem straight out of Leave It to Beaver. Plus, we have a long list of affordable, kid-friendly attractions and top-notch hospitals. It’s no wonder families rarely leave, friends always return, and kids can create kinda-perfect memories that they’ll pass on to their own kids. Now that we love.
47. Happy Trails
National health rankings might make it sound as if we spend our days downing Crisco out of the container, but St. Louisans have been getting more active, thanks to initiatives like Bike St. Louis and Trailnet’s Active Living Awards. For bikers, the classic ride is the Riverfront Trail, though many prefer Greensfelder Park’s challenging terrain. There’s also Grant’s Trail, the River des Peres Greenway, and the Christy Greenway in South St. Louis. And don’t forget less-obvious options—like the grounds at Laumeier Sculpture Park, where the junco-to-Trova ratio may be 3-to-1.
48. The Universities
In a tiny college town, you’ll probably find a good bookstore and coffeehouse with live music. In a city filled with universities? World-class medical care. Researchers continually uncovering new truths and insights into robotics, epidemics, and the history of the universe. Lectures that can change your life. Libraries with rare books and manuscripts found nowhere else in the world. Opportunities to dream up a new career in midlife. Expertise in virtually everything.
49. Refugees and Immigrants Who Call This Home
The phrase slumps, exhausted: “This nation was built by immigrants.” But…look around. South Grand was rebuilt by Southeast Asian refugees. Parts of South City were pulled back from a scrubby-Dutch grave by young Bosnian families, Cherokee Street by Hispanic entrepreneurs. St. Louis’ famous livability makes us a pick for refugee resettlement, and those who come to live here are renewing our city.
50. And a Bow on Top
Considering it now takes a crew of four a full five hours—with a bucket lift—to tie a big red ribbon ’round the hyperboloid curve of the James S. McDonnell Planetarium, one wonders how a group of student pranksters pulled this off in 1966 without getting caught. In fact, the only clue to the culprits’ identity was left by the tricksters themselves: a little sign affixed to the handrail reading “Merry Christmas, St. Louis, Washington University School of Architecture.” We loved it so much, the planetarium carried on the tradition with a yearly 4-foot-wide ribbon and 20-foot-long bow.
By Jeannette Cooperman, Christy Marshall, Jarrett Medlin, Stefene Russell, and Stephen Schenkenberg
