Slip in time

In April 2006, my husband and I spent two weeks roaming the streets of Paris, France. We rented an apartment in the 7th arrondissement, grabbed a map of the metro, and took off exploring the wonders of French museums, churches, culture, food, and drink. Among those new experiences was, of course, the wine. Neither Scott nor I were very big wine drinkers. We had no idea which wine went with what meat. We had no clue what good wine should even taste like. I had hoped it was similar to a wine cooler, but no such luck! :)

As luck would have it, the man from which we rented the apartment was from the USA. He and his wife had moved to a small village on the outskirts of Paris. He purchased an apartment in the city so that his children could visit them without staying with them. Smart man, I tell ya. When we went to the apartment, inside the refridgerator were three bottles of wine: white, blush, and red.

He proceded to open the bottles, pour each of us three glasses, and explain how we should smell it, swish it in our wine goblet, and savor the taste by sipping. He went into great detail of the types of grapes and other organic substances that went into the wine to make it have the deep color or rich flavor. He told us of vineyards to visit and which winery was nearby. He even informed us of the correct meats to pair with each wine and how it enhances the flavor of your food. He went on and on about the wonderful world of wine. It was quite amazing.

I can't honestly say that I remember much of that conversation. The three of us drank three bottles of wine in about 20 minutes so by the time he was done talking, I was a bit sloshed. But I hold that memory close to my heart and I cherish that time I spent with my husband. Every time I have a sip of wine (which isn't very often), I think of that time. I slip back into that memory and smile.


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