The other night the Native Companion & I stopped into a wine bar in her neighborhood called Les Pages du Vin, planning to have a quiet glass of white wine while we decided what to do for dinner. I'd popped into this cave à manger a little over a year ago, shortly after they opened and shortly after I arrived in Paris. I remembered how nice the proprietors were. I also remembered being nevertheless kind of unimpressed with their selection of wine, which struck me, at the time, as being a little cold. This is a difficult concept to express. The other night while NC checked her watch I spent fifteen minutes glumly perusing bottles expressly designed to look like classic wine bottles -
- and trying to think of the French term for "slickness."
