Un encuentro en Madrid

"We have red wine and white wine," says the waiter. He pronounces each word slowly. "What regions?" asks Pablo. The waiter thinks. And thinks. "Rioja for the red. Albariño for the white." More thinking. "Also Ribera del Duero." He seems uncertain.

"I like red wine. Rioja is fine," says Elena. "Me too. Two glasses of Rioja, please," Pablo says to the waiter. The waiter nods and leaves. He moves away very, very slowly. They watch him leave. "Is he walking backwards?" whispers Elena. They try not to laugh.

"Do you know wine well?" asks Elena. "A little. My family is from La Rioja." Pablo explains. "We used to visit vineyards when I was young. I learned to smell the wine. Then I sneezed in a glass and now I never smell the wine."

"I am from Valencia. We prefer lighter wines," says Elena. "Good for lunch." She knows her regions. "But I like all wines. Red, white, rosé. I'm not difficult!" They both smile. Spanish people love to talk about wine.

The waiter returns with the wine. He takes five minutes to serve two glasses. They wait patiently. "To meeting new people," says Pablo. They clink the glasses softly. "To new people," Elena repeats and smiles. The wine is good. Not excellent, but good.

"What do you do on weekends?" asks Pablo. "I paint on Saturday mornings. I visit markets for inspiration." Elena loves her routine. "On Sundays, I correct student papers. They write about art. Some essays are very... creative." She makes a face.