July 30th, 2007. A day that will live in infamy. The day the mice over at Disney traded their ears for rooster's combs.
I knew it was too good to be true. Two weeks ago I wrote about the hit movie Ratatouille, and the wine it launched ("Waiter, What's the Rat Doing in my Chardonnay?!"). I hoped we were witnessing the dawning of a new age for wine and food in America. A way of thinking about wine as a food product, a product to be enjoyed with the family dinner, something that pulls families together in a way that is almost lost in today's world of electronic connectivity. The way wine has been enjoyed for centuries in Europe.
For two weeks I basked in the belief that this tide had turned in America. Fellow foodies and wine lovers called to speculate whether America was finally awakening to the call of good food, good wine, good conversation. We actually thought America was making progress against the forces of obesity, fast food, and microwaves.
And the thing is, I think we are. At least as a society - to wit:
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