Hello Winter

If you're going to preview your winter menu, you can't do much better than a snowy night.

Good thing Bistro 27 is only a few blocks away so it didn't take that much effort to traverse the ever-whitening streets.

Inside, a crowd of neighbors was already mingling and eating, the only surprising part being that I didn't recognize anyone.

Turns out it didn't matter because a woman walked up to me and asked me to join her and who am I to refuse a conversational partner, even a stranger?

Over pumpkin-stuffed ravioli in a brown butter sage sauce, skewers of grilled eggplant filled with herbed goat cheese over marinara and lamb kabobs, we got to know each other at a table by the window with the heat vent blowing on my feet and a view of Broad Street becoming a winter wonderland.

It must have been the occasion, but the stereo was set to house music, the kind of pulsing beat you'd expect to hear in a club.

My new friend turned out to be a delightful woman just back from a business trip to California where, besides enjoying the 78-degree days, she was working on merging an east coast group that mentors girls with a west coast group that does the same.

A Church Hill resident, we bonded over a  love of city living, our mutual disappointment with the fried fish tacos at Kitchen on Cary and the hurdles of getting over good girl syndrome when you're the oldest child.

While we were downing a dessert of nut-crusted chocolate pate, her friend arrived and she began introducing us, unnecessary because it was a local gallery director I've interviewed twice now.

All of a sudden, it was three woman of an age, all passionate about urban, feminist and gentrification issues and we were off and running.

How do we prevent losing the rich cultural history of Jackson Ward as more newcomers arrive? How exciting is Sonya Clark's new show at 1798 Gallery going to be given its marriage of hairstyling and art? How do we get more people off of Broad and into my neighborhood on first Fridays?

As lively and interesting as all that was, we got even more into it on the subject of the lost art of conversation, increasing lack of interactivity amongst subsequent generations and how our mothers had talked to us about "girl issues."

You'd have thought we were old friends, but it was really a case of daughters of similar childhoods all grown up.

Sitting watching the snow fall on Adams Street, we could have talked the night away but instead made plans to meet up again and take our discussion even further when the threat of bad weather wasn't hanging over us.

If you're going to make new friends, you really can't do it more enjoyably than over new dishes in your neighborhood joint with non-stop conversation.

And if you're foolish enough to wear a dress in a snowstorm, especially when the heat vent is blowing directly on your feet.