It was a screw-top-cap wine

but the man still showed us the label and poured a tiny taste for Eric so he could see if it was to his liking. Ah ha sexism. I was sort of glad it wasn't me, actually. Their wine glasses are huge. And we ate tentacles and tiny fried octopus(es) and the waitress asked us if we were doing something special that night because we looked so nice. Nope. This...is it. Now bring me my Mahi Mahi and bring the gentleman his Chicken. We'll take the creme brulee for dessert, s'il vous plait.