Truth be told, I'd intended to save the birthday bottle of 2006 Drappier Champagne "Charles de Gaulle" my friends A and C gave me in the midst of a drunken literary reading for some future occasion, when A and C would again be present, and all of us somewhat more sober. But recently another friend, R, invited me round for dinner at her offices, which overlook the Centre Pompidou, and since my sister and her boyfriend J4 were in town, and the latter had just fixed a wonderful heap of Lebanese cuisine to bring, it seemed a irresistible occasion to crack open said Champagne, even if in doing so I may have set the stage for a future moment of mild Champagne-less awkwardness in the presence of A and C.*
I look forward to one day having the luxury of not thinking about any of this, of just buying the stuff by the caseload and misplacing it behind my Aston Martin in my eight-car garage. As it is, Champagne of any sort, even a medium-plus bottling like the "Charles de Gaulle," is something I have to kind of play chess with. (I'm routinely happier with a variety of less expensive, equally engaging sparkling wines, but the actual public gesture of Champagne is irreplaceable.)
Finally, as so often happens in spite of my insane planning, the Champagne itself - 80%-20% Pinot Noir / Chardonnay, deep, somewhat unctuous and briny - took a backseat to the happy circumstances: a view across Paris, some fine company, and J4's killer brochettes de merguez with harissa yogurt.
