France and me, Chez Janou

I didn’t want the night to slip away. I wanted to hold the warm spring air in my lungs and the red wine in my veins.

Chez Janou - bright yellow walls, a handful of tables under chestnut trees. Laughter, small talk, plates carried outside, and the sense that Paris needs no staging. Life was simply unfolding around us.

Glass in hand, I asked the bartender, “Tell me about French wine.”
He looked at me, his dark southern eyes lit with laughter.
“All you need to know,” he said, “is that there are two types of wine: French, and all others.”