Cheese and wine

I'd just poured myself a glass of wine on Thursday night, when Carolyn sent me an instant message asking for some computer assistance. I didn't really understand what she was on about, so I rang her. It turned out she was about to pour herself a glass of wine too, so we had a virtual drink together. It's the best we seem to be able to manage these days.

The following conversation took place:

R: Which wine are you drinking?
C: It's a posh one with lots of gold thread round the bottle: Marques de Valido… REE-ODJA.
R: REE-OCKA, it's pronounced REE-OCKA.
C: No, that's a type of cheese!
R: No, that's ricotta.
[Howls of laughter on both our parts.]
C: It's very good: nineteen ninety-nine.
R: Bloody hell! It should be… Oh, you don't mean the price, do you? You mean the year.
[More howls of laughter.]
C: You were really impressed for a moment, then, weren't you?

Of course, Carolyn wasn't quite sure whether to believe me about Rioja being a wine and not a cheese, so she took the precaution of checking with her dad the following morning. He said he was fairly sure it was a wine.

Richard Carter

A fat, bearded chap with a Charles Darwin fixation.

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