I drink pretty much anything that’s pink. Rhubarb schorle, ‘chose’, grapefruit juice, watermelon mojitos, kir royal.
That’s just how stupid, I mean girly I am.
Maybe it’s a compensation mechanism. I was often dressed like a boy when I was a kid ^^
Yes mum and dad, I saw the pictures, ok?
Anyhoo, Champagne rosé falls into that category and when I saw the Champagnothèque lighted-tripod-held ball, I was sold.
My friend Sarah and I entered the joint not totally sure of what they had in store for us. Turns out that as its name pretty much hints at… they served Champagne.
We sipped our glass feeling a tad disappointed though. The decor wasn’t all that. Nor was the distinguished brew we drank. Everything felt somewhat meh.
And overpriced at that… at 15 euros the glass, we were thankful not to be thirstier.
Champagnothèque, this was a first. And I think it’s safe to say, a last as well. Although ‘never say never’ right? I mean if I’m dead-drunk after my rhubarb schorle binge-drinking sessions and stumble upon you, I might knock on your red velvet doors again.
Oh wait, rhubarb schorle is alcohol-free.