““We were not a hugging people. In terms of emotional comfort it was our belief that no amount of physical contact could match the healing powers of a well made cocktail.” ”

— David Sedaris, Naked

Last night was spent doing one (or I suppose it's two) of my favourite things. Stuffing my face, in the best possible company, with cheese and salami and fruit and pretty much anything that's yum to eat - and drinking truly exceptionally good wine.

I make no excuses for liking booze. Because I do. A well-made martini can make me smile like a Cheshire Cat, and feel as though I am at one of Jay Gatsby's soirées and I am just about to glimpse the host himself. A good wine is a joy. A great wine - that's just bliss in a glass. And my penchant for champagne is no secret to either anyone who knows me or in fact most of the Western world.

In other words, if you are ever at a loss for a present with me, stick a bottle of Veuve in front of my nose (or a nice Pouilly-Fumé, I'm a reasonable girl) and I will pretty much be your friend if not for life, at least until I need another bottle of vino.

Feel free to add a gift voucher for shoes. I'm a simple girl. Bribery works.

But there is the flip side of the cork.

Alcohol is a depressant. It makes people do incredibly craptacular things to other people. Just like any other addiction, if you don't have a kill switch when it comes to consuming it, it can take over your life and cause untold misery.

I don't say this to be an equally big depressant. I am just acknowledging that not only is alcohol hours of fun for the (in theory) 18+ members of the family, it's an issue for a hell of a lot of people and I don't discount that.

Back however to my personal obsession with the grapeful dead.

I have spoken before about why champagne is just so amazing. (Answer: it's champagne. QED.) But what makes wine tick? Why is it such an important part of the dinner ritual? The choosing, the matching... what is it about that glass of sauv blanc at the end of a really, really yuck day?

This is what it is for me at least.

With dinner, it's all a part of enjoying the process. It's part of the fun! I personally don't care about matching reds with red meat, blah blah blah - if you are not committing the atrocity of drinking botrytis semillon with a steak then fill your boots, drink whatever the hell you like. If you are with someone who enjoys wine, then the discussion adds to the enjoyment of the meal... you can be wine wankers together safe in the knowledge you are not judging each other.

As for that glug at dusk?

That's easy.

It's an 'AAAAAAAAAARGGHHHHHHH!!!' in a glass.

Cheers.

““Remember gentlemen, it’s not just France we are fighting for, it’s Champagne!””

— Sir Winston Churchill

I must immediately 'fess up to something - I owe the lovely Sara L for the inspiration behind this post. Because I was stalking her Pinterest board, and naturally, as she has impeccable taste, she had fifteen pins with fabulous champagne inspired bits and pieces on them - and after that, well, it was a done deal.

I had to have a glass immediately simply to start the creative juices... uh - bubbling.

Champagne - where to begin really.

And yes I am talking about champagne. Yes, I know that Australia makes some magnificent sparkling numbers, and yes I sound like a snob, but they are not the same as a truly toasty, dry, built of the tiniest bubbles imaginable flute full of fizz that is a truly magnifique mouthful from La Belle France.

Le sigh.

Nor are all champagnes created equal for that matter. Just because something costs the equivalent of the GDP of 3 South American countries does not make it great. This is something that most people learn very quickly. Unless their name rhymes with Huffy. Or possibly Liddy. I'm not sure which he goes by these days. Obviously my attention span is taken up with far more worthy things.

Like shoes.

Anyway, back to the precious drop. When you think about it, it's not surprising that it was a bunch of boozy Benedictines who kicked off the whole champagne shebang. Even if it wasn't actually Dom Perignon who started the grape non-escape, he certainly helped his brethren along their initial path of enlightment. Although as champers was once called le vin du diable (the Devil's wine), one wonders how devout they actually were.

I must admit I personally send up a little prayer of thanksgiving whenever I take my first sip of Perrier-Jouët.

This is all very well you may say, but what does champagne actually stand for? One might argue that it's an alcoholic beverage; it doesn't actually have to stand for anything much at all, except getting one tipsy. But this isn't accurate. This is a drink that thinks. This is a drink with - well, soul.

Champagne is for fun. It is for life, for love, for laughter, for romance - sometimes it is even to toast the craptacular times as well.

Champagne is for breakfast.

Champagne is the skip in your heart's step, that happy little hum when putting on a slinky frock and knowing you are going to sit somewhere beautiful with someone who may or may not think you look fairly damn amazing. It doesn't much matter; you know yourself that you do. Because you are thinking champagne thoughts.

Champagne is, like the bubbles that tickle your tongue, totally frivolous and unnecessary - but an absolute delight.

I can cope with turning 41 in three weeks.

Just don't make me do it without a full glass in my hand. And an even fuller bottle close by.

Salut!