After a painfully restless night's sleep, I awoke to a text message from my boss which read, "Are you coming in today?" Again: I WOKE UP TO A TEXT MESSAGE FROM MY BOSS. Panic-stricken, I glanced at the time, 10:00am, and let out a loud "OH MY GOD!" (expletives may or may not have been involved) and shot out of bed so fast it's a miracle I didn't shoot through the ceiling. With tears welling up in my eyes and all color stripped from my face, I threw on my clothes and bolted out the door, mortified and in absolute disbelief of the entire episode. If you know me, you know how unbelievably out of character this is. Tardiness is a pet peeve of mine. Promptness brings me great pride. That said, Friday started off in a rather upsetting (and equally unsettling) way.
Needless to say, the traumatic wake-up call set the tone for an off day. And while I realize nobody is a fan of those kind of days, I just couldn't seem to snap myself out of it. I went through the motions of the day like a discombobulated zombie with tired eyes and a quivering lip.
Okay. Woe is me time is over. Because nothing turns a bad day around like a glass of bubbly. Stop. Rewind. Allow me to rephrase that: Nothing turns a bad day around like a glass of Cuvée Daniel Grand Cru Brut at Bar Boulud.
Pierre Paillard, "Cuvée Daniel" Grand Cru, Brut NV was popped and poured by Mr. Michael Madrigale, Head Sommelier of Bar Boulud (and do yourself a favor and introduce yourself -- he's so unbelievably knowledgeable and friendly and inspired and has a story to tell about each and every bottle on the wine list. It's an absolute treat to have him walk you through the wines. And his passion for his craft is undeniably infectious.) And after the first sip, I could feel the vibrantly aromatic and yeasty bubbles start to tickle my nose, my senses and lift my spirits. These bubbles were bringing me back to life.
And then there was a glass of 2009 Weingut Gross "Klassik" Sauvignon Blanc from Austria. Absolute loveliness through and through. With pear and wet stone on the nose, this wine's acidity got frisky with me. And I was happy to oblige.
After an awfully impressive and handsome charcuterie spread was brought to the table (I'm a pushover for paté and the headcheese was dangerously delicious), as was a bottle of 2007 Rene Rostaing Coteaux du Langeudoc. Deep, dark, plump plums on the nose with more juicy fruit on the palate, this wine served as my blanket (we were seated outside). I was comfy. Relaxed. Happy to sip. And sip.
And recklessly devour some serious paté de grand-mère.
I was back, baby.