I laid the loaf of sourdough bread down on the floor, alongside my faux fur and handbag. “Jeez, it’s hot in here” I said to my Goldie Hawn Lookalike (GHL) of a neighbour. A glass of Walter’s Royal Riesling Sekt Brut in hand I spied the canapés on offer. Geraldine – the generous owner of Raoul’s and solely responsible for starting off this annual Christmas event in the ‘hood noted it. “It’s okay, every year our glasses get mixed up with The Winery’s next door, but eventually they find their way to the right home.”
I was glad about that, because even as I sampled the Riesling from David’s wine gaff, I had one eye on Raouls’ Prosecco – both pink and white on offer.
The chat started to flow, a local beautician joined us as we talked botox, Trump and blind dates in no particular order. Niblets of chorizo and beds of bruschetta laiden with mozzarella, pesto and dried tomatoes stimulated the taste buds, and before I knew where I was I found myself one glass of rosé bubbly down.
“Let’s go next door!” GHL cried. It seemed a good idea, as we were down to our last sophisticated sausage roll and the hostess of the evening had bade us ‘goodnight’.
“I’ve got a piece to publish tonight and Christmas cards to write, I can’t stay out much longer..!”
“Just one!” she replied.