We are toasting on a warm summer night in the garden of a restuarant, what Georgians call an “Italian courtyard”. There is a stray cat curled up on an empty chair. The wine is cold, a khikvi from a small cellar, amber wine that spent time in a qvevri longe before we found this table. My dinner companion is a New Yorker I just met, and this is not his first time in this country. He knows what the roads used to look like. We interrogate the menu, and order half of the things on it. But the first thought in my mind is to be the
Dave, I am truly lauging so hard right now. Thank you, I suspect I will now learn a zillion zesty toasts that I can carry around with me for the right moment. You know, the Russians have a pretty good curse about things going up your ass, but it is used when someone cuts you off at an intersection.
I very much appreciate the joyous aspect to yours as it is used.
I’m trying to get my kids to stop constantly using the F word. Somehow we’ve settled on this one to express Everything in life. It’s too much for this one little word to live up to. Brother The Road of Toasts is fucking beautiful.
You make me laugh; "Hopefully we will not die tomorrow." does seem very much like a Russian toast.
What a wonderful tradition of toasts that move from one thing to another and tickle the conversation. That sounds like the most remarkable evening and I thank you so much for sharing it! I may start using "Victory to us!" as a toast....though in my life, one toast is about as far as we get.
Where I come from in south London (strictly speaking, sarf Lahndahn), we say "Up your bum!"
And my work here is done.
Dave, I am truly lauging so hard right now. Thank you, I suspect I will now learn a zillion zesty toasts that I can carry around with me for the right moment. You know, the Russians have a pretty good curse about things going up your ass, but it is used when someone cuts you off at an intersection.
I very much appreciate the joyous aspect to yours as it is used.
I’m trying to get my kids to stop constantly using the F word. Somehow we’ve settled on this one to express Everything in life. It’s too much for this one little word to live up to. Brother The Road of Toasts is fucking beautiful.
Oh it's a struggle, right? Our 9 year old swears in 3 languages and we have no idea how she picked that up (haha). You reap what you sow.....
I love this. 🍷🍷
thanks Terry - if I told you who the dinner companion was you might not believe it.
PM me please!
Love this story
big thanks Dan! Nothing like two New Yorkers breaking bread, no matter what corner of the world it might be.
You make me laugh; "Hopefully we will not die tomorrow." does seem very much like a Russian toast.
What a wonderful tradition of toasts that move from one thing to another and tickle the conversation. That sounds like the most remarkable evening and I thank you so much for sharing it! I may start using "Victory to us!" as a toast....though in my life, one toast is about as far as we get.
One toast is a fine, fine start. I'm sending you an email, so you know how to say it:)