Our First Beaujolais Nouveau in Tavira
Billy Munnelly / November 19, 2024
I’ve never been into wine rituals. Fluffy, puffy stuff by waiters or want-to-be experts. It misses the point. Wine is a social exercise. An opportunity to celebrate life with friends. See the brighter side of life. Especially on an ordinary, chilly Thursday night in November. Any of you who attended my Beaujolais Nouveau parties in Stratford proved my point. Open some wine and the world becomes a different place. Even outdoors in late November. Especially outdoors. Especially when it snowed. Or was so cold I had to ask Mary Ellen to fetch buckets of hot water from the kitchen – to stop the wine from freezing. A different take on the ‘ice bucket.’
We moved to Portugal in November 1021. No, not because it was Nouveau month. But maybe the Gods had planned it. They usually do. From previous scouting visits to Tavira we had noticed that most bars and cafés closed sort of early. It’s not a party or late-night town. Or wasn’t, but we’re working on it. The Black Anchor being the exception. Irish bars come alive just as most people are going to bed. Someone has to care for us. However, for Nouveau night a wine & cheese shop posted notice of a party. “Oui, we will be pouring Nouveau and would love to see you and Kato,” said Guillaume in his finest French accent. He’s from there.
It is almost three years ago now, but I can still remember the excitement I felt walking down Ave Liberdade in anticipation of our first Nouveau party in our newly adopted country. Who might we meet? Surely the fun people in town! We donned berets and scarves as one does for French events, had a glass before leaving just to set the mood, and headed out. Halfway down Liberdade, I started to feel unwell. What could it be? Guillaume was out front of his shop casually talking to someone. How could he have time on such an important night? “Hello Kato and Billy . . . but you are one week late. Sorry, but it was last Thursday.”
It hurt. Who’s ever been a week late for a party! And Nouveau of all evenings. We cried. We laughed. What else could we do? As we drowned our sorrows with Guinness at the Black Anchor I said to Kato “It’s not so casual here in Europe, Nouveau happens on the appointed night.”
Wishing you a Happy Nouveau on the 21st. Here’s a pic of Guillaume from one of the years when I got the date right. And another from the Stratford party days.
NEXT: Mornings in Tavira!