Last week marked our second round of Supper Clubs, which bring Free Press subscribers together in real life—for dinner, conversation, and an introduction to people who might otherwise never cross paths. Thousands of you showed up again, in dozens of cities, on multiple continents. And some Free Press staff joined in.
Below you can find out what we discovered at our tables.
The next Free Press Supper Club takes place on August 20. See the full list of cities and get your ticket here. Last month’s dinners sold out quickly, and many August tables are already filling up. So if this sounds like your idea of a great night—book now! And remember: The Free Press Supper Club and The Free Press Forum are available exclusively to paid subscribers. If that’s not you yet, upgrade today.
—The Editors
Bari Weiss, co-founder and editor—Upper West Side, NYC
“Order the whole menu.” That’s what you say when you’re out with a dear friend who has just beaten back cancer and is in town to celebrate without her toddlers. Nellie, Suzy, our friends, and I were devouring said menu when our waitress came over to tell us that another table wanted to treat us to a round of drinks.
Is it possible we were being hit on? Alas. It was the next best thing: “It’s to thank you for The Free Press,” she said.
I hadn’t even realized there was a Supper Club happening on the other side of the room. Thanks to Julia, Elizabeth, Matthew, and Philip for making our night—and to all the Free Pressers, in Atlanta, Seattle, Denver, and everywhere else who came out to meet one another. It was such a thrill to see you out in the wild. Here’s a Free Press promise: If I’m dining at the same restaurant as Supper Club, the bill is on me! Can’t wait for more of these.
Frannie Block, investigative reporter—Atlanta, GA
On Wednesday night, I found myself sitting at a dinner table in metro Atlanta with a middle school teacher who shared her story of being adopted as a baby, a retired couple turning their love of travel into a second-act business, a Delta worker who spends her days off hiking trails in Patagonia and hopping on standby flights around the world, and a data engineer building an AI product inspired by his own climb out of credit card debt.
We talked about celebrating America’s 250th birthday and what we each love about our country—capitalism, freedom, and, surprisingly, hot dog–eating contests were the most popular answers. We traded theories about the future of artificial intelligence, went on tangents about loving libraries and how public spaces are becoming overrun by growing homelessness, and argued over whether FIFA and the World Cup have ruined the essence of sport—or whether sports have become a new kind of religion, especially for those who no longer practice a faith.
One of the reasons I love working at The Free Press is that we have the kind of readers who debate our stories and bring their own ideas to the comments section and The Free Press Forum. Which is why it was amazing to meet some of them in the flesh.
And the coolest part? While we dined in Atlanta, 2,350 other Free Pressers were doing the same thing in 34 cities across four countries. When I asked my tablemates why they signed up to eat with strangers, they all said the same thing: They wanted to meet people different from them, who shared the same hunger for intellectual curiosity and honest conversation. We started as strangers, but by the end, it was like we had been friends for years.
Sean Fischer, chief of staff—Soho, NYC
Sitting down to a Free Press Supper Club is like sitting down to a first date with a friend of a friend. There are some nerves, yes (what will they be like in person?), but more than that, there’s a sense of familiarity that comes from knowing you agree on a few basic facts (that Tough Love is the jolt our culture needs; that Nellie Bowles is the funniest woman in America; and that as long as Maya Sulkin and Olivia Reingold are reporters, the Ivy League will know no peace). And those shared facts (facts, yes) at a table made up of a psych grad student, a venture capitalist, an engineer, and three journalists are truly the only foundation you need for a raucous, fun, enlivening dinner. Did I order the most expensive dish on the menu under the mistaken impression that The Free Press was picking up the tab? Maybe. But it was 1,000 percent worth it to share a few hours with a new group of friends who I’ll undoubtedly see again soon.
Chelsea Jacobson, social media producer—Tel Aviv
Supper clubs aren’t just in America—I had a wonderful dinner in Tel Aviv! Our table was entirely women—all of whom had lived in at least one other country—and thankfully they helped me order because my Hebrew sucks. We talked politics, dating, life in America, life in Israel, and so much more. We’re still talking in a group chat. I feel very fortunate to have connected with such interesting, kind people who know so much about the world.
Tanner Nau, editorial fellow—Washington, D.C.
Over martinis and manicotti, my five dinner mates discussed how American politics went awry. A majority were retired, and recalled a time when ideas were debated, and political tribes weren’t as exclusive and sycophantic. They said one of the only places they can find that now is in the pages of The Free Press, and they subscribe in hope of returning to that bygone era.
Rafaela Siewert, executive producer—Soho, NYC
As the conversation jumped from potholes to the Han dynasty to whether Zohran Mamdani was actually a technocrat, I knew I was at a Free Press dinner. It was a night of political conversation, matchmaking, and shared plates. When we went around the table to answer “What’s the most unique thing to love about America?” some said diverse cuisines, beaches and mountains, and the Constitution (James Madison was a table favorite). I said air-conditioning, as it was 99 degrees that day. Where else would you round-robin that question, anyway?
Matt Ziegelstein, director of subscription growth—Washington, D.C.
A Hill intern, a philosophy degree holder, and a lobbyist walk into a bar. What do they have in common? They’re all Free Press subscribers from D.C. At our dinner we had real discussion about real issues—we shared opinions on gambling regulation, AI, and free speech on college campuses—all without getting (too) heated. We didn’t agree on everything. But we all respected one another and had a love of this country and what makes it great—and that to me is what made this a true Free Press dinner. And with the help of a couple of drinks, we had fun!
Alyssa Ajello, event manager—West Village, NYC
Each neighborhood has a secret after-party location revealed during dinner where every group dining in the area meets up to keep the fun going. When I excitedly walked up to West Village’s after-party spot, I was instantly met by Martha and George Washington—because you really never know what to expect at a Free Press party. Inside a packed bar, total strangers were already mingling like old friends, connecting over work, life, and love, and swapping ideas on how to fix the world one drink at a time. You leave with something rare these days: real hope and genuine IRL connection. I could tell the Washingtons were proud of their legacy that night. I left at 11:45 and the party was far from over.
Anywhere CONUS but NYC, or WASHDC, please! Can't wait.
LOVE this!
Could we have a Free Press dinner in Madrid, Spain?