I'm definitely a bloom-where-you're-planted kind of a gal. Move me to a different state, and I'm happy. Move me halfway across the country and I do just fine. I quickly learn to love the customs, the people, the food.
I've love that St. Louis trick or treaters have to tell a joke or riddle to get their candy. I've started to say "Faaares Paaark." At the grocery store, I don't say "sack" or "pop," but I at least know what they're talking about. Gooey butter cake and Ted Drewes? Amazing.
Imo's pizza gets its own category. It's not fair to negatively compare it to Chicago- or New York-style pizzas. That's like complaining that Chuck E. Cheese is noisy. You've got to compare it to something in its own category. St. Louis-style pizza is not Chicago-style pizza. It's not trying to be, so just get over yourself. Judge it on its own standards: crisp, thin crust; sweet sauce right to the edge; provel cheese. If you don't like it on its own merits, that's fine. Some freaks don't like chocolate either.
At the moment, I'm back on the East Coast where I can once again find Utz Crab Chips, nature's perfect food. If you're ever watched The Wire, you've seen the characters eating Crab Chips. For the record, they do NOT taste like crab. These aren't the shrimp chips you get a Chinese restaurant. They're just great potato chips, seasoned with Old Bay, nature's perfect condiment.
They're bloomin' fabulous.