Can You Read My Taste?

LOLA Stories · An Imagined Encounter

Luca hears her before he sees her.

“You’ve kept a seat free for me.”

He looks up. A woman is standing in the open terrace door, as if she had brought the warm evening with her. She takes in the bar, the glasses set out, then him.

“I’m not even open yet,” he says.

“Then I’ve caught you at exactly the right moment.”

She comes closer. Three bottles stand on the counter: Orange, Lemon and Lime. Her gaze lingers on the labels for a moment, as if greeting old acquaintances.

“We’ve already met, by the way,” she says.

Luca looks from the bottles to her.

“LOLA?”

“In person.” She pulls the free stool back a little. “Today I want to find out whether you can read taste.”

Water First

Luca puts down his cloth and nods towards her light jacket. “May I?”

“You may ask,” says LOLA.

She hands him the jacket with a smile. He hangs it on the hook next to the stool, within her reach. Then he places a glass of water in front of her.

LOLA raises the glass slightly. “You’re taking your time.”

“You’ve only just arrived,” he says.

She turns the glass between her fingers. “Others would have told me ages ago what I absolutely have to try.”

“Maybe you’d like to sit down first.”

LOLA sits down. “Well observed.”

Luca stays on the other side of the bar. Close enough for a conversation, far enough away for her to decide whether she wants one.

“And now?” she asks.

“Now I’d like to know what you’re in the mood for.”

What You Don’t Like

“You know my sweet side,” says LOLA. “Isn’t that enough for you?”

“For a recommendation? Not yet.”

“Demanding.”

“Curious,” says Luca.

She leans forward a little. “I have three sides, Luca. The sweet one is just the one people notice first.”

“And the others?”

“Sometimes a little bitter. Sometimes sour. And sometimes simply fresh.”

He leans lightly on the counter. “Then I’d rather ask which one is sitting here tonight.”

“Maybe I want to be surprised.”

“Then tell me something you don’t like.”

LOLA raises an eyebrow. “That’s how you start?”

“So I know how much room I have. A surprise should still suit you.”

She takes a moment before answering. “Too sweet. When nothing else is left.”

Luca nods. “That helps.”

“And if I just order something fresh?” she asks.

“Then I’d ask: lemony, sparkling, cool? The word can mean a lot of things.”

“You don’t make it easy for yourself.”

“You should be able to describe your taste without learning my menu by heart.”

LOLA looks at him a little longer. “You really listen.”

“Well, you’re putting effort into your answers,” he says.

A Napkin in the Wind

Out on the terrace, the wind lifts a napkin. Luca steps outside, places a small plate on it and comes back.

“Do you do that for everyone?” asks LOLA.

“Weigh down napkins?”

“Pay this much attention.”

He smiles. “In different ways. Some guests want to talk about every ingredient. Others haven’t seen each other in months. What they need most is time for each other.”

“And you know straight away who wants what?”

“I can be wrong. That’s why I’d rather ask briefly than make up a whole story about someone.”

LOLA glances at the three bottles. “People make up quite a lot of stories about me.”

“Then tell your own tonight.”

She rests a hand on the counter. “Maybe I’ll stay a little longer for that.”

Luca lets the pause hang. For the first time, LOLA has nothing to add.

A surprise should still suit you.

Room on the Table

Her gaze wanders over the neatly arranged glasses and the prepared citrus fruit.

“Everything within reach,” she says. “And what if I invite you to my place one day? With three friends. What would you bring?”

“Questions,” says Luca. “What you like to drink, for example. Then I’d chill something in advance, set out glasses, a few small snacks. Water and an alcohol-free option are part of it for me.”

“No full cocktail menu to impress me?”

“One drink I know well, and an alternative. I want to sit at the table with you – not lose the thread five times because I’m looking for something.”

LOLA laughs. For once, her answer comes faster than her glance. “That could work.”

“And there’s room left on the table.”

“For what?”

“For your hands. The bread. Everything that moves around during an evening.”

Next Time

Luca takes a glass from the shelf. LOLA watches his every move.

“And if I don’t like your recommendation?” she asks.

He puts the glass down. “Then I want to know. Too bitter? Too sweet? Or had you imagined something completely different?”

“You wouldn’t explain to me why I’m wrong?”

“I can explain what I had in mind. Whether you like it is your call.”

“Even if I liked something else yesterday?”

“Even then. I’d ask you again next time.”

“You’re already planning a next time?”

Now Luca has to laugh.

Voices drift in from outside. Two guests stop at the terrace door. Luca greets them, shows them to a table and comes back to the bar once more. He slides the bottle of Lime a little towards her.

“For later,” he says. “Fresh. With an acidity that doesn’t get lost.”

LOLA looks at the bottle, then at him. This time, she doesn’t hide her smile.

“You read me.”

“You made it easy.”

“No, I didn’t,” she says. “Look after your guests, Luca.”

He picks up the menus and heads for the terrace. When he looks back once more, she’s still sitting there.

“I still have time,” she says.

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For your next evening: Ask about preferences, leave room for an honest answer and prepare just enough that you can give your guests your attention. That works at the bar just as well as at your own table.

Read more in our articles “Sweet, Bitter or Sour: Which Aperitif Suits You?” and “Aperitif at Home: 7 Tips for Drinks, Snacks and a Lovely Evening”.

And who is really behind LOLA, we tell in “Three Days in Saint-Tropez: The People Behind Our First LOLA Shoot”.