Our chichi Marais digs come equipped with salt, vinegar, cocoa, tea, strawberry jam--anything you could want except (a) olive oil and (b) a corkscrew. I assume the last tenant (a) drank the olive oil and (b) nicked the corkscrew. Anyway, I betook myself to our marché habituel and (with a bit of pantomime) acquired a
tire-bouchon and the most reasonably-priced bottle of
huile d'olive I could identify. The olive oil bore a label in Arabic script which, for all I know, says "death to the infidel!" The brand name, in Latin script, is Al Jazera. Wonder what happens if I take three ounces of that through airport security?
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