By Joe Ray
The waitress at Willi’s Wine Bar poured a bit in my glass to taste and waited next to me for a verdict.
Nothing good happened in my mouth. Nothing bad either. “Nothing to signal” to borrow a local phrase.
“Should it be like this?” I venture, trying to play it semi-diplomatically.
As the words leave my mouth, the wine - a Gigondas - begins to unwind. It’s good, but a bit too late now.
The waitress takes it in stride as I begin to backpedal. Later, the wine steward drops by to offer to exchange the bottle anyway. Perhaps he smiled when he noticed it was almost gone.
“Willi’s?” a friend would later ask. “That place still full of Americans?”
“Smart ones,” I reply.
Count on 30-40 euros for a good, seasonal lunch, tasty wine and classy service.