Riding Herd
ONE WALL IS lined with por-traits of the white-fleeced specimens-apparently, the more staid and responsible of the flock. They look proper and predictable. You want something else. The Black Sheep, now open on Morgan Ford in Tower Grove South, beckons with that something else: a promise of the unexpected and, on a miserable, bone-stinging night, the beguiling offer of warmth.
Out of that unforgiving wind, one stamps
