Henry doesn’t drink very much.
For non regular readers Henry is my husband to be. He proposed to me one Caribbean night not long ago and you can read about the rather lovely proposal here.
For those who know all about him stay with me here. Don’t go.
Because I’m writing about something today that might sound trivial. But it really isn’t.
I’m away with Henry this week in the Maldives, as you do! He had to come for work so I’ve tagged along and we’ve added a couple of nights on to the trip to relax. Well, for him to relax. I’ve been relaxing the whole time.
It was our first night of joint relaxation last night. We sat down for supper and over came the waiter.
And now I get to the reason I mentioned Henry doesn’t drink much alcohol.
It’s strange how often him not drinking is met with surprise. If he doesn’t want wine or beer some waiters don’t hide their surprise. And when he orders his favourite drink the surprise and slight element of condescension only grows.
That drink is Coca Cola by the way. I try to get him to drink less of it as there’s so much sugar in it but he doesn’t tend to do what I tell him to do!
Anyway. Back to the waiter.
He came over and asked what we’d like to drink. I ordered a glass of wine, Henry ordered a coke.
There wasn’t a flicker of surprise from our waiter’s face and off he went.
And when he returned he had something that made Henry incredibly happy.
Because, rightly or wrongly, Henry hates it when his coke arrives at the table. The famous bright red can standing out for all to see. A tumbler with ice bringing further attention to the beverage and a straw adding to the apparent childishness of his choice.
But a can didn’t arrive. And neither did a straw. Instead a small carafe was placed on the table and alongside it was a wine glass. He grinned at me like I’d just told him how handsome he is (he enjoys a compliment) and made a grand show of pouring out the coke and pretending to taste it as if it were a fine wine.
My point this week is that coke is a fine wine. It is a chocolate milkshake with Smarties sprinkled on top. It is a bottle of Dom Perignon 52.
It’s a drink. And just as worthy as any drink to sit on a supper table if the imbiber so desires. If you want to know what incredible service looks like it’s this. It’s waiters who don’t care what you eat or drink as long as you enjoy it. They don’t think less of you because you order the cheapest red or have white wine with well done steak.
If you want a romantic picnic for two on a desert island with cuisine provided by Kentucky Fried Chicken then that’s what you should have. A good hotel will just check if you’d like barbecue sauce or ketchup with it.
I’ve rarely seen Henry so happy and I know it’s the first thing he’ll talk about when he gets home.
And all it took was a coke in a carafe.