We all sat round an enormous wooden table. The birthday boy was the "king" and I was the "queen". We both sat at the top of the table and could give commands, for fun. The "king" had a broken leg and every so often would bang on the table.
We were given mead to drink. This is a honey-wine, and very sweet and easy to drink. We could have as much as we liked. I can remember a surprising amount about that evening. It was fun, everyone was happy and friendly.
I can also remember the journey home, my Dad laughing and saying that it was good to know what it was like to be drunk in a safe environment. It was horrible. At home, in bed, I could hear wolves in the garden, howling. When I asked my Dad to go and see, he said it was the badgers. The next day, it felt like a rite of passage. I knew what it was like to feel drunk. I didn't like it.
The funny thing about alcohol is that a small amount makes you feel relaxed and happy, but too much and it is quite the opposite.
I was thinking about this incident, today, because someone asked me to write a post about wine.
After the "mead incident", I was wary about alcohol.
A glass of Liebfraumilch on a Sunday, or half a cider in the pub, maybe a gin and tonic before a party to give me Dutch courage, no more, a sherry on a Sunday morning with my Dad. Actually that sounds quite a lot.
When I came to Italy, wine was served on the table every day, even at lunch time.
My husband's 90 year old nonna (grandma) always had a glass of wine, white wine in a carton.
My mother-in-law and I would share a glass of her special vin santo (literally, "holy wine" perhaps because it was used in church), often with cantucci biscuits, on a dull day.
My husband knew exactly which wine to order with each dish in a restaurant. It was a whole new approach. My sister-in-law had a glass of white wine before lunch every day.
Wine, here in Italy, wasn't meant to get you drunk, make you more amusing and wonder what you'd got up to. It was to enhance the food you eat, to savour and enjoy the different flavours.
Wine can be described in a myriad of ways.
It is difficult to do so without sounding pretentious. I was asked to do a translation for a wine seller, years ago, when my Italian was in it's early stages.
Trying to find English words that could describe the colours and bouquets of the different wines, was extremely difficult for me. In the end, my husband helped me out. He gallantly pretended that I'd done it, and we both enjoyed our payment in bottles of wine.
Wine has to be sipped and not gulped. It has to be treated with respect, like the mead.
We all know about the potentially devastating effects that alcohol can have on people's lives.
I don't like to be a spoilsport, because a glass of wine definitely adds a lot to a nice meal, but
maybe bottles of wine could have a list of ingredients on them and a warning.
My sister-in-law has a sign up in her kitchen that says "I cook with wine, sometimes I add it to my food". It was said by the American comedian, W.C. Fields.
Napoleon apparently said "In victory, you deserve champagne, in defeat you need it."
My Mum used to sing a sweet song at bedtime that went like this:
Drink to me only, with thine eyes
And I'll not ask for wine
Or leave a kiss, within the cup
And be forever, mine.
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