First course for 40

We got an invitation from Kathy and Carl for a red-wine tasting -- apparently something they'd bid high on at a charity thing -- and in accepting offered to bring something edible to the party.

Ken had naturally responded the same way, and both of us got a note back joining two of us for the first course. It was to accompany a Beaujolais.

Robert and I had, of course, been through the onset of the great Gamay promotion years ago. Aside from the waiters doing the down-the-streets dance with bottles of nouveau fresh from across the Atlantic on the third Thursday of November -- marketing, marketing, marketing! -- and the discounts on the restaurant menus, the wine was . . . unexciting.

Still, an assignment is an assignment. I consulted various wine guides on the recommended accompaniments and, in half of them, found the advice to choose a different wine.

Well, the rest suggested at least a few charcuterie go-alongs. So there we were, in Ben and Ken's kitchen, assembling and packing the stuff we plated at the party: Roast pork roulades around cornichons from our pantry, salamis with grainy mustard, dates filled with goat cheese, niçoise olives green and black, radishes, pineapple.

At the tasting, every time the distributor's guy talked about the wines and said "soul," one half of the crowd turned to the other and translated: "soil." (Oh, the terroir a region brings!) But we ate and supped well, however we wrapped our mouths around it.

I got to talk to Jo about her doorbell, Meg about her delicious arancini, Mike and Phyllis about living in Red-state dysturbia, Susan about life, another Mike about his truffles and his road trip to visit Muslim and Hindu communities just to tick destinations off his life list and tick off everyone else . . . . Wonderful place, wonderful people, wonderful wine, wonderful food.

Though I did think about walking a block to buy a bottle instead of driving to another county.