Pop a Corkscrew
I always heard, growing up, that Yankees did a lot of drinking. I'm not talking about meeting down at the local beer joint for a few pints before heading home, or slipping down the holler to fetch a jar from Old Dooley, who kept his own supply of corks for a different purpose, if you know what I mean. I mean they drank all the time, anytime, and it didn't matter where, when, or with who.Southerners are a little different, although we have our share of drinkers and no mistaking it. But we, as a general rule, are selective about who we drink in front of. After all, it wouldn't be seemly for word to get out down at the First Church of Self-Righteousness that the Sunday School teacher had a cocktail or two to celebrate her birthday.
See, in Dixie we don't do our drinking for all and sundry to see. Why, here in Yankeeland you can have a church wedding and serve champagne at the reception all in the same building! If you suggested that idea where I'm from people would look at you kinda funny and ask, "You aint from around here, are ya?" No, here the churchouse is for weddings and funerals and general repenting of wrongs. You can have your reception inside the church but if you want to drink anything stronger than ginger ale punch, or smoke a cancer stick or two, you have to go out in the parking lot with the rest of the deacons.
Which leads me to the subject of corkscrews. Now, in the South we have bottles with corks in them, but we don't need a special tool to remove them. After all, Old Dooley didn't need a special tool to put them in, and we sure as hell ain't gonna be sniffing the ones we pull out of the bottle, since heaven only knows where its been. But here in Yankeeland, corkscrews are de rigeur. Every household must have one, sometimes more than one, and the fancier they are, the better.
When I first moved up here and started unpacking my kitchen ware, I was digging through my husbands already acquired tools and knickknacks and found at least three different corkscrews. While none of them were especially fancy, I did have to wonder why he had three of them. And then it occurred to me. He was married three times before he met me. The corkscrews must have been wedding presents. After all, what self-respecting Yankee wants to have friends over for Italian food and not be able to open the bottle of wine that's presented? So, for each marriage he must have received a corkscrew from well-meaning friends wanting to save him that embarrassment.
Personally, I can't stand wine. Who wants to drink soured grape juice when there are so many different grains to distill? Once, in college, I decided to drink three bottles of Boone's Farm in one evening. While I lived to tell the tale it did spoil the whole wine experience for me and I can't stand the taste of it. Which is sad, because I have exquisitely sensitive taste buds and would have made an excellent sommelier.
But, I digress. It seems to me that Yankee households need corkscrews for some reason, and that is why my kitchen drawer still holds three of these utensils that we never use. My boss, on the other hand, has a magic corkscrew that somehow removes the cork from champagne bottles with little or no twisting involved. I know this because while I was at the counter inventing Neopolitan shots (Vanilla Stolli, Strawberry Stolli, Creme De Cacao, and a splash of Godiva Liqueur) she was opening the fancy champagne so we could toast 2007 in style.
Personally, I'd rather toast with straight vodka but people look at me funny when I toss back a shot of Absolut without grimacing and say something like, "God *&^%, where the &^%$ are you from?" But at least I know what to shop for if my idiot daughter decides to marry her baby-daddy.
I'll go straight out and buy them a corkscrew.
posted by Zoe Richardson @ 5:18 PM
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