Pop!

Cheers, Dear Readers!  I’m off to Boston to celebrate the birth of my new granddaughter, Caroline Blair.  I know you’ll understand when I tell you that this is my last post until Sunday, June 5.  See you all after Memorial Day.   Have a wonderful holiday.

And now to the business at hand…

By now, I’m sure that most of you are aware that I don’t drink.  My favorite tipple is Seagram’s Diet Ginger Ale- when I can get it.

And Diet Coke when I can’t.

I’ve always been a teetotaler.  Just never liked the taste of alcohol.

(Or water for that matter.  In fact, I feel exactly the same way about water that W.C. Fields did.  Watch this to see why.)

But there is one exception to my “No Booze” rule.  And what a magnificent exception it is, n’est-ce pas?

Voilà!

Champagne.

From Dom Pérignon- le père of all bubbles- to Moët and Chandon, Pommery, Heidsieck, Perrier-Jouet, Pol Roger, Tattinger, Roederer or Krug, I’ll gladly lift up a flute any time, any place, one is offered.

I can’t remember exactly where and when I first had the bubbles tickle my nose.  But I do remember exactly where and when I became a fan.

It was in Aspen in 1996 at the private dining room of the Little Nell Hotel.

Caroline Krug- of the famous Krug Champagne family- was hosting an elegant dinner. With a different vintage Krug Champagne accompanying every course.

From the hors d’oeuvres to le dessert, each plat was enhanced by a fabulous Champagne chosen by Mlle. Krug elle-même.

Each time I sampled a new offering, I’d swoon and exclaim “That’s my favorite one!”

Until we got to the pink Champagne.

Ooh la la!

It tasted exactly like this. (And it made me feel just like her.)

I’ve been a devotee ever since.

So when I moved into this apartment in September of 2013, the very first thing I did was hie myself to Binny’s and buy a bottle of Veuve Clicquot.

I looked forward to the day when I could celebrate and share that bottle with a very special someone.

Malheureusement, I never found him.

That gorgeous bottle languished in my fridge until December of 2014.

And then I gave it to my emergency dentist.

(To see why, read all about it here.)

Follow Up Appointment Sidebar: Chris had been darling and subsequently made house calls gluing in the temporary that had fallen out.

Twice.

And after the last session when he had brought the cotton and glue and floss and instruments from his office in Glenview to my apartment in Lakeview, I wanted to thank him.

“Do you like Champagne?” I asked.

“Not really,” he admitted.  “But my wife sure does.”

I gave him the Veuve.

“Happy New Year,” I said.

I never replaced that bottle.

And then, someone brought me something.

Things are looking rosy, mes amis.

À bientôt.