A Faux Pas
The fact that I drew a blank when asked to consider my greatest Faux Pas is not unusual. When a married guy loses something, say a wallet, he has to ask his wife for help. It is a guy thing: we simply forget. Wives, on the other hand, can usually find anything and quickly. Maybe it is an intuitive power thing for them: when they find it you realize you could not live without them.
So when Natasha (editor) asked me to write about faux pas I immediately turned to my wife. It was a little like President Bush’s attempt at self-effacement at a recent press conference. He was asked if there was anything his felt he need to apologize or regretted and replied with unhesitating lack of insight that he, “Simply could not recall anything [he] had done wrong.” Likewise I suddenly could not recall any faux pas I had ever made although I knew I had lived a life full of them, in fact some felt my life has been defined by them.
It seemed fitting that the faux pas Jody thought of immediately was one which took place deep in the Dordogne three years ago in a bucolic village sequestered in a valley through which ran a crystalline trout stream. I have been sworn to silence and can not reveal its name. It is our secret. Besides I need to return there to redeem the good name of clueless Americans. Je suis obligée.
Four of us were sitting for dinner at a two star Michelin restaurant. and had ordered an expensive bottle of Bordeaux. The sommelier had emptied the bottle into a carafe and was letting it sit for ten minutes or so., placing the bottle at the center of the table for us to look at. I noticed he had left about a centimeter of wine in the bottle.
Concerned that we get our money’s worth I surreptitiously emptied the dregs into the carafe when the sommelier was not looking, or so I thought. At the end of the meal there was a smidgen of wine left in the carafe. The sommelier emptied it into my glass with insistent panache. I was thrilled until I took my first sip of debris. The sludge coated the inside of my glass and everyone noticed. I tried to hide my embarrassment with laughter.
With every faux pas comes a lesson: The sommelier knows best. Sit back and enjoy your meal.
