Today, I managed an all-Italian purchase. No English. No gesturing. Just straight up cake-ordering at the local pasticceria.
Feeling emboldened with my mastery of simple vocabulary, I decided to venture into a funny wine shop I noticed open up across the street from the bakery. I was buying the cake to bring to Thanksgiving dinner, so I thought it might be nice to bring a bottle of wine as well.
“Hello! I’d like some white wine, please.”
After a few questions, we established that it should be dry, not sweet, and that I wanted a bottle.
“A liter and a half?”
The prices were cheap, so sure- why not? A liter and a half.
That’s when she got the bottle…. the old water bottle. She walked over to a vat and filled that sucker right up.
Not *exactly* the kind of bottle I envisioned bringing to the table.
For reasons totally beyond comprehension, my lovely hosts didn’t get around to serving this particular bottle so I was able to take the bad boy home.
She ain’t fancy looking, but for 2 Euro, it’s actually quite a nice pinot.
Next time I’ll know to BYOJ to the Italian wine store:
Bring Your Own Jug