A short break from Crimea and Ukraine.
The other night I was having dinner at Marea. I like Marea, once upon a time it used to be San Domenico. And I used to be a regular at San Domenico. Seduction started rather often with the tasting menu at San Domenico, which is not to say that the tasting menu over there was a guarantee for successful seduction.
Anyhow, on Friday night I ordered a bottle of wine at Marea for approximately 55 dollars. To the best of my knowledge it could have been a nice, Italian wine.
“Excuse me,” the waiter responded, “this is not a bottle; this is a glass.”
For a moment I felt very provincial and clumsy, but I answered: “Give me a few minutes to find the right bottle.”
I did choose a decent bottle of Gewurztraminer.
But I could not help thinking that 55 dollars for a glass of wine, any glass of wine, is a bit grotesque.
Tonight I finally saw Scorsese’s movie “The Wolf of Wall Street” and I realized that charging 55 dollars for a glass of wine is not grotesque at all. If you truly enjoy decadence 55 dollars for a glass of wine is just not decadent enough.
I guess that’s one of the reasons why I keep writing, to get to the next level of decadence.