Stella de Smit
Among the downsides of living miles from anywhere is that if you want an active social life you need to work a bit harder. As has been divulged, for twenty-five years my wife and I have lived in the house that she and several former generations of her family have called “home,” twenty miles northeast of St. Francisville in rural West Feliciana Parish. It’s lovely country: several hundred acres of onetime pastureland that’s been quietly reverting to hardwood forest since Ashley’s forebears quit raising soybeans and cattle back in the early eighties. Living out here does have benefits: birdsong mornings, dark skies, enormous bonfires; and when your kids are young, the luxury of letting them disappear into the woods for hours or days to climb trees or dam up the creek, knowing nothing nefarious is likely to happen.
[Read more of James Fox-Smith's Reflections column, here.]
Still, for somewhat social people who publish a magazine about things to do, living out here can be a bit isolating. The list of social events to which you can ‘pop,’ or ‘scoot’ is short indeed. Don’t feel like cooking tonight? It’s twenty miles to a restaurant, and don’t even ask about home delivery. Want to go to a play or see a movie? That’ll be an hour’s drive each way. The wedding, interesting new restaurant, art opening, Mardi Gras parade, kid’s basketball tournament? The event duration will be shorter than the drive time required to get there. Often the psychological hurdle of the drive proves insurmountable and we end up staying home, envying city-dwelling friends spending their weekends ‘popping’ out to parties, backyard barbecues; or even—let’s be honest—to the grocery store because they’ve run out of milk. Last year—while socializing more or less ceased to exist and everyone was staying home—the generalized anxiety that out in the world interesting people are getting together to do fun things dissipated for the first time. We realized that for twenty-five years we’ve been living in a fog of FOMO. But no more! With the pandemic finally relaxing its grip, the kids preparing to leave home, and the world coming out of hiding at last, it’s time for a Country Roads Supper Club again. And now we’ve come up with a solution to the age-old drive-time dilemma: Bring the party to us.
For several years prior to the pandemic, Country Roads Supper Clubs—operating under the motto “Great Chefs Serving Memorable Meals in Unforgettable Locations”—have been our recipe for uniting three building blocks of Country Roads into a live event. Prior to the pandemic, we’ve hosted Supper Clubs in abandoned churches, bird sanctuaries, sugar warehouses; and, memorably, on a Mississippi River sandbar. Up and down the River Road we've traveled, bringing Supper Clubs to the most spectacular locations revealed by thirty-eight years in the publishing business. But we never imagined we’d get to host one five minutes from home.
If you’re going to have neighbors, Mike Wampold is a good one to have. The developer behind Baton Rouge’s Watermark and Renaissance hotels, Mike has long owned a rolling swathe of property to the east of US Highway 61, close to the Mississippi state line. During recent years he has taken his property, which is named Woodlawn, to another level, building a majestic home, a mile-long lake, and a rushing, spring-fed trout stream, among other features. All together the property represents a breathtaking slice of rural Louisiana splendor, so when Mike asked whether we’d like to host a Supper Club to introduce it, how could we refuse? So, on May 15 we’ll celebrate the completion of his project, the Felicianas’ natural beauty, and the end of the pandemic with our largest event yet: a seated dinner for 250 beside that trout stream. Executive Chef Phillip Lopez of Galatoire’s New Orleans will serve a menu showcasing the freshness and flavor of Felicianas-raised produce, Baton Rouge’s wonderful trad-jazz band the Florida Street Blowhards will play; and out on the lake, trick skiiers from Bennett’s Water Ski School will mess about behind boats. It’ll be the best of our local stomping ground, distilled and delivered to one of its most beautiful locations.
[Read about the last time we enlisted Chef Philip Lopez, for 2017's Art of Food dinner, here.]
I wish I could say “Hurry up and get tickets and we’ll see you there,” but this Supper Club is sold out—has been for weeks, actually, which says a lot about the excitement we all feel about being able to get out and enjoy a social occasion again. But don’t worry, we’re planning more Supper Clubs for the months to come, bringing great chefs to spectacular, little known locations near and far. Seems fitting, wouldn’t you say, for a magazine that goes by the motto “Adventures Close to Home?” Stay tuned.
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