Warning: Condiment-related humdrum.

Yesterday Alma and I went to Old Orchard so that she could return the iPod to the Apple Store, and I noticed an interesting store while I was there. It's called Oil and Vinegar, and it's apparently a worldwide enterprise, with stores in twelve different countries (with six, the United States is just fifth in store count, behind Holland, the United Kingdom, Belgium, and Germany). It also sells a few different things, but the bulk of the choice falls under the heading of condiments.

For those who don't know, I'm pretty much Mr. Vinegar, so seeing a store called "Oil and Vinegar" piqued my interest quite strongly. In fact, it's exactly as amusingly haute as you would expect a store that sells mostly the items in its name and has the bulk of its stores in Europe to be. The back wall features jugs of oil and vinegar that can be dispensed by staff members into bottles; the products are sold by the deciliter, which strikes me as hilariously effete.

There are also samples out everywhere, so you can try pretty much anything on a bread cube. I don't know why I feel guilty for trying free samples - that's what they're there for - but I tried not to make it look like I was trying everything, even though I ended up sampling just about every vinegar on offer. (The one I was disappointed to have missed out on, because there was no sample dish, was this cider vinegar, since that's my favorite normal variety. Next time I'll probably just pick up a bottle.)

I ended up walking out with two deciliters (see?) of Orange-Lemon-Basil vinegar, which is seriously just about the greatest stuff ever. It's a bit too strong to drink right from the bottle as I would with regular store-bought cider vinegar (no, really) - I wouldn't be surprised to find it had an acidity level slightly higher than the usual 5% - but it's so unbelievably flavorful. I'm about to go to Jewel and pick up some French bread just so I can while away the evening (since I sure won't be on the computer) with some bread dipped in vinegar. No, I'm not kidding.

They also had a garlic mustard, which has a good bite and is generally pretty awesome. This is not a sandwich mustard, it's a dipping mustard, and I'm going to pick up some unsalted pretzel sticks in that same Jewel run.

The whole thing - two deciliters of the vinegar (plus the cost of the two bottles, but you can bring them back to be refilled and so you only have to buy them once) plus the mustard - ran me up to $13-something, so I felt like a little bit of a doofus. But as Alma and Drew both noted to me, can you really put a price on something you like that much? (Answer: "Yes, but it's higher than $13.") I have sometimes had people question how I can enjoy my food when I eat as quickly as I tend to, and I guess the answer is that just because I'm eating fast doesn't mean I'm not tasting it. Or maybe the answer is just that I don't care enough about how most of my food tastes. This vinegar and mustard is not going to be consumed in any kind of a rush - it's savoring time.