Our wine opener has disappeared.
Pfffft! Gone. No clue as to where it might be.
Dearly Beloved is in charge of the corkscrew. He is maddeningly methodical. There is no chance he wouldn’t have put it back in the correct drawer. (It’s one of the few kitchen drawers with which he’s familiar.)
I’ve searched, but the opener remains missing in action.
Until he remembers to buy a new one, DB has been managing with one of those cheap plastic ones about which his spouse remains clueless as to proper handling. I can’t even use a good one. Wine opening was not a question on the Betty Crocker Homemaker of Tomorrow exam.
DB has been batching it at the beach this week. I had to come back to Charlotte early, so of course the beach weather immediately changed from chilly winds and rain to warm and sunny. Leaving my wine steward behind made me responsible for my own wine opening.
Good Egg Son visited Monday and opened a bottle with the cheapo wine opener. It seemed so simple! Tonight, alas, he was gone and so was the wine. (Pure coincidence.) I had to open a new bottle.
THE TASK: Open wine with cheap plastic wine opener.
Pour. Strain. Sip. Remove cork from tongue. Repeat last two steps until glass is empty.
CONCLUSION: Screw it! (Note to self: Buy emergency wine supply with twist-off caps.)