I’ll Take Manhattan

(the Bronx, and Staten Island too)

“All those old drinks are coming back now,” said my mother the last time we were together, and I ordered a Manhattan. “Ever since Sex in the City.”

She’s probably right, but I’ve been drinking “those old drinks” since I was, well, old enough to drink. Even in college, I’d forsake the cash for three beers and buy a single martini instead (dirty, with Bombay Sapphire, please), because I’d consume less alcohol, slower, and look more attractive in pictures and in general. (A tilting woman swigging a High Life looks drunk; a tilting woman holding a martini glass looks gracefully besotted.)

But it took me a long time, a lot of books, and dating a lot of culinary students to know anything about proper drinking. I’ve condensed this knowledge for you, here, in four sections: barware, cocktails, wine, and scotch.

Barware 101: A Primer

The second thing I did when I moved into my husband’s house was buy appropriate drinkware. (The first was to buy sheets that had a higher thread count than our dog’s IQs.) For once, I didn’t do this because I was snobby – I did this because I was tired of drinking my scotch out of an oversized coffee mug with “CHICAGO – THE WINDY CITY!” emblazoned across the side.

If you’re really interested in being able to tell a sherry glass from a brandy snifter, Wikipedia has a pretty good section explaining the different types of drinkware.

Here’s what’s in our bar currently :

• 1 William Sonoma plain martini shaker
• 2 Crate and Barrel Clio martini glasses (we prefer these because they’re less likely to cause an international incident)
• 2 Crate and Barrel rocks glasses (Jack likes these because his thumb fits in the impressions on the side, making him look less alcoholic-y while he waves his scotch around and quotes socialist authors)
• 2 Pottery Barn stemless wine glasses (as I got tired of drunk people setting my traditional wine glasses down too hard and breaking the stem)
• 2 Tiffany & Co. classic champagne flutes (my wedding anniversary present to myself)
• 2 Crate and Barrel Monika brandy glasses (because you can’t really substitute for brandy)
• 1 Pottery Barn Great Wine Decanter (for when we’re being fancy)
• 2 monogrammed William Sonoma wine stoppers (because the day you see me drink a bottle of wine with one of those huge bejeweled butterfly/dolphin/whatthefuckever things is the day Lily Beth calls it quits, ya’ll)
• 6 monogrammed Pottery Barn hotel cocktail napkins
• 1 wing cork screw (we’ve had one of those rabbit things for years, and neither one of us can operate it without injuring ourselves)
• 1 foil cutter (for when we don’t want to rip the foil on the wine bottle off with our teeth)

And that is the entire contents of our bar, really, which is a very basic setup for two people who entertain like it is going out of style. We stow away another half-dozen cheap wine glasses for when we have company, and we have a couple of those black stackable metal wine racks that Pier One doesn’t seem to make anymore.

We do not own cute colored cordial glasses. We do not own hand-painted wine glasses with ferns or grapes or kittens on them. We do not make margaritas, and we do not own shot glasses. (A friend once pawned a set of those moronic rolling shot glasses off on us and I’ve taken to filling them with water and a single daisy, and stationing them around the house.)

Let’s Have a Cocktail

Manhattan

Often called a “man’s cocktail – strong, simple, and urbane.” At 160 years old, it’s a tried-and-true classic. A Manhattan can range from very sweet to very dry, depending on how you make it. The basic instructions follow:

• ¾ oz sweet vermouth
• 2 ½ oz bourbon whiskey
• 1 dash bitters (“what the hell are bitters?”)
• 1 maraschino cherry

Start with a mixing glass containing a couple of ice cubes. Pour in the vermouth, bourbon whiskey, and bitters and stir gently. (Why do you stir gently? This keeps the drink from looking cloudy and the spirits from becoming bruised.) Drop the cherry into a chilled cocktail glass, and strain what you’ve just mixed into the cocktail glass. You can rub an orange peel over the rim of the glass, but for heaven’s sake, don’t put it in. Better, forget I said that – let’s not get fancy here. Nix the orange.

DrinksMixer.com suggests substituting a lime twist in place of the cherry, then lighting a match and dropping it in, but I don’t like my drinks to come with an act, so let’s nix le feu too. Unless you’re drinking cocktails at the circus – and then, by all means, light it up.

Dirty Martini

I don’t drink vodka martinis, nor do I drink any martini with “chocolate,” “pomegranate,” or “apple” in the name. If I wanted it to taste like fruit, I’d spring for a $4.59 bottle of Arbor Mist and drink it in shame, at home, alone. This is where you say, “My, what a terrible snob you are, Lily Beth,” and I say, “You are correct.”

But really, I watch the kind of women that drink those drinks – they are the same women who wear gold lamé to the opera, and I like to disassociate myself from them whenever I get the chance.

• 2 oz gin
• 1 tbsp dry vermouth
• 2 tbsp olive juice
• 2 olives

Toss an ice cube and a smidge of water in a martini glass, and put it in the freezer. Then go fill your martini shaker with the gin, vermouth, and olive juice. Cover, and give a good shake three or so times. Strain the contents of your mixer into the (cold) martini glass, shove two olives on a spear, and voila: the original martini, with no embarrassment of having to say “appletini” in public.

“But what about the cosmopolitan?” you ask. I really have no beef with the cosmo. I used to drink cranberry juice like a fish anyway, but cranberry juice and vodka combined have never treated me well – you know you’re getting old when you have to start taking it easy on the citric acid.

White Russian

Not just the favored drink of unemployed, bathrobe-wearing, pot-smoking bowlers everywhere – it’s also a sweet but respectable cocktail that comes in at approximately a zillion calories a glass. I find its siren song of silky cream impossible to ignore.

• 2 oz vodka
• 1 oz coffee liqueur (usually Kahlua)
• light cream

Pour vodka and coffee liqueur over ice cubes in an old-fashioned glass. Fill the rest of the glass with light cream. If you’re making it for other people, let them stir the contents together themselves. If you’re making it for you, stir them together and sigh contentedly.

Hot Toddy

This is the best “it’s cold and I’m a weenie”/”excuse for drinking when ill” drink ever made.

• 1 tbsp honey
• ¾ glass tea
• 2 shots brandy
• 1 slice lemon

Brew tea and fill a tall glass 3/4 full. Mix in honey. Mix in brandy. Add lemon slice. Cup in your hands and breathe in the steam while pretending it’s therapeutic.

Mint Julep

The official drink of the South. I’ll take it over a sickly-sweet mojito any day.

• 4 fresh mint sprigs
• 2 1/2 oz bourbon whiskey
• 1 tsp powdered sugar or simple syrup
• 2 tsp water

Muddle (meaning crush up) mint leaves, powdered sugar, and water in a highball or a collins glass. Fill the glass with crushed ice and add bourbon. Top with more ice and garnish with a mint sprig. Serve with a straw and front-porch rocking chair.

Mimosa

Bring the mimosa back from it’s post-wedding brunch death! Invented in 1925 at the Ritz Hotel in Paris, it’s the perfect excuse to drink before noon, and it’s incredibly easy.

• Champagne or another sparkling wine
• Chilled orange juice (low pulp or pulp free)

Fill a champagne flute or a traditional water glass with 1/3 champagne, and top with cold orange juice.

Old Fashioned

• 2 oz bourbon whiskey
• 2 dashes bitters
• 1 splash water
• 1 tsp sugar

Here’s the thing with the Old Fashioned – most bartenders throw in a cherry and an orange wedge, and then top the thing off with a too-long spritz from the soda gun. Neither the cherry nor the orange are original, and the extra soda will dilute the hell out of the damned thing. Making an old fashioned the correct way is simple:

Mix the sugar, water, and bitters in a highball glass. Pour in bourbon, fill with ice cubes, and stir.

Wine

Years ago, I was a huge wine drinker. I took the courses in college, I read books, I went to vineyards, and spent most of the time enthusiastically smashed. I had a group of girlfriends that met for a weekly date at a bring-your-own-wine place, and each week we’d excitedly show our offerings and talk about them amongst the fragments of feminist theory and geo-politics discussion. In recent years, I’ve had to give it up due to migraine headaches that are triggered by many things, including the tannins in red wine. Now I stick mostly to scotch instead.

We buy wine by the case twice a year or so, from whenever I get over-enthusiastic at a local winery. This is not a bad idea, as a bottle of wine is always a quick and easy hostess gift, and we all know my policy on never attending a party empty-handed. Most of our regional wineries will mix-and-match their cases, which means we always have on hand something that we don’t drink, but that other people drink (like chardonnay, or raspberry wine).

If I’m out-and-about, and looking for a bottle of wine to bring to a party, I almost always choose Coppola’s Diamond label because the malbec, shiraz, and merlot are delicious, classic-looking, and affordable.

I also like Cardinal Zin, because it’s an easy red zinfandel and the label is gorgeous and fun.

Veuve Clicquot is the only champagne we drink, mostly because we dislike champagne in general. On the incredibly rare occasion that we buy or order champagne for ourselves, we suck it up and spend the money. If we are entertaining someone important (like the Prime Minister of Israel, or Jack’s family), we serve their demi-sec with dessert. But I would also like to point out that my all-time favorite girlfriend once came to a birthday party of mine with a $2.99 bottle of Martini & Rossi Asti Spumante in a plastic bag and announced excitedly, “I do not care what you think! I love this champagne and they carry it at the 7/11!” And what followed one of the most fun times we’ve ever had.

Scotch

“Mmm, scotch. Scotchy-scotchy scotch.”

Here’s the thing about scotch – if you drink excessively cheap scotch, you look like you’re a wino. I’m sorry, there are just no two ways about it. Cheap beer and cheap wine, I can forgive; cheap scotch I can not.

I only drink three kinds of scotch. This is non-negotiable. They are as follows:

• Oban (14 year) – a West Highland single malt that is smoky and dry. Pricing runs anywhere from $50 to $70, depending on where you buy it.
• Lagavulin (16 year) – Islay single malt that tastes like a campfire. A delicious, delicious campfire. Should run from $80-$90 a bottle.
• Macallan Whiskey Galore (10 year) – Sounds trashy, and is shockingly unique and wonderful. It’s the bottle I always keep on hand in the house. $50-$60 a bottle.

The Lost Art of Letter Writing

Email has us rudely rediscovering the lost art of correspondence in much the same fashion one “rediscovers” a lost thumbtack while visiting the bathroom in the dead of night.

Travis Charbeneau, “Relearning the Art of Correspondence”

There is a very good reason why women of privilege kept bedrooms separate from their husbands – they served as domestic headquarters, or home offices. Running large households with numerous social engagements (and entanglements) required a woman to have her own desk, her own files, her own closet and dressing area, her own space, simply put, to sit and think – to organize the day before it began in the morning, and to deconstruct and evaluate it in the evening. This has gone out of fashion in the past 30 years, and so has the practice of correspondence.

This article intends to cover the ways and styles of proper, old-fashioned correspondence.

Jackie Kennedy was famous for her thank-you notes and kind letters. They inspired French President Charles DeGaulle, they moved Pakistani President Ayub Khan, and they comforted Kathleen Graham after the suicide of her husband. Her correspondence secured and endeared her in many situations that would benefit not only her, but her family and friends, either immediately or in the future.

A lady writes by hand. A quick one-line thank you for a casual BBQ may seem appropriate in this age of technology, but because it is so easy to dash off, it doesn’t stand out. It’s completely forgettable. Sitting down with pen and paper requires both time and concentration, and people immediately recognize that when they receive a hand-written note in the mail, no matter how brief. And it’s true that everyone loves to receive personal mail, especially when it’s become a bit of a novelty – a well-written letter can often be more effective than sending flowers.

Choose Your Stationary

Formal Correspondence

Jackie wrote on Smythson of Bond Street’s Nile Blue stationary with white embossing. In fact, this was the exact stationary of choice for many upper-class women of that era. Personalization like Jackie’s will run you from $350-$1,000.

Or, you can fake it, like I do. Smythson’s plain writing paper and envelopes (no personalization) are actually quite affordable. I pay $47 total for 50 sheets of Nile Blue writing paper, 25 envelopes, and shipping. The plain envelopes and letter sheets are still watermarked with “Smythson’s of Bond Street” to give you that classic edge.

Then I use an embossing stamp purchased from Expressionary.com for $60 to emboss my name and return address. I chose the Wallace design, but they have plenty to choose from. If you move often (a college student, for example), then be sure to invest in a stamp that just has your name and no physical address.

If you really don’t care about embossing, but would still like some personalization on the top of the letter sheet or on the envelope flap, Expressionary also makes monochrome and multi-colored ink stamps for this purpose. I save this good stuff for corresponding with my grandmother, my husband’s family members, acquaintances that I don’t know intimately, business associates, and anyone else to whom I might want to present an elegant, cultured picture.

Casual Correspondence

For my casual correspondence – dashing off a thank-you note for a Memorial Day BBQ, or a birthday gift from a close girlfriend, for example – I use Felix Doolittle, and no one else. He designs original watercolor stationary that is both classical and fun, with a slightly old-world, Gold Coast touch. He does both personalized ($70 for 50 letter sheets and envelopes) and plain ($50 for illustrated letter sheets and envelopes) stationary, as well as his wedding collection, which I think strikes just the right chord between contemporary and sophisticated. He also does more creative things that I adore, such as book plates, baker’s labels, and calling cards, and he has an extensive children’s section. And sign up for the mailing list – I get a notification almost monthly about 20% discounts on everything from his letter sheets to his address labels, so I can stock up at one time and save money.

If Felix is a little too rich for your blood, there’s also Nicole Balch over at PinkLovesBrown, who does crafty, fun personalized stationary that is still high-quality and won’t break the bank. My favorites are her Monogram Stationary ($32 for a set of 30) and her Dressmaker Cards ($12 for 6), but she also does adorable bookplates.

Miscellaneous: Invitations, Calling Cards, Etc.

I used WeddingPaperDivas for my more casual post-wedding brunch invitations, and have been hooked ever since. Since they’re fully customizable, I use their designs for all sorts of things – Christmas parties, summer shin-digs, and anniversary celebrations. (And, unlike Smythson and Felix Doolittle, you can edit and view your personalizations right on the screen!)

Their average invitations will run you between $50 and $60 for 25 (envelopes included), but they’re gorgeous and completely personalized – no tacky “fill in the blank” invitations here! They’re also great for certain events, like weddings, that require multiple pieces of information (like Save the Dates, or direction cards). They’ve also partnered with William Arthur (a leading stationary designer) to form their Letterpress Collection, which is more expensive (average $300 for 25).

For calling cards, I like to go through FineStationary.com, who offers everything from Vera Wang to William Arthur to Crane & Co. The Crane & Co. espresso card is what I currently use for my personal calling cards ($142 for 50).

A note on calling cards: Remember, calling cards are often slightly larger than standard business cards (3.5″ x 2.5″, for example, instead of just 3.5″ x 2.0″), so if you have a business-card case you plan on carrying them in, make sure they’ll fit! And, of course, my favorite guilty pleasure is a Tiffany & Co. business card case ($295).

Cynthia Kling over at Slate covers fancy stationary options in detail in her humorous (and informative) essay, “Paper Swoon.”

Compose Your Note

So you’ve got your fancy stationary, but now you have no idea what to say! This is where the majority of people abandon the letter-writing process altogether. But have no fear! It really is easier than it looks, and it will set you apart from everyone else who still thinks text messages like “thx 4 dnr” are appropriate reciprocation.

Question: When should I write a letter or a thank-you note?

Ideally, within 24 hours after someone has done something nice for you – such as given you tickets to the Opera, invited you to their house for dinner, or sent you a gift. If it is early enough in the evening when I return home, I sit down at my desk and write a thank-you letter immediately, while the gift or experience is still fresh in my mind. If you need to wait until the weekend, do it, but don’t let more than a week (at maximum) elapse.

In situations where you may be swamped with gifts (weddings, graduations, etc), this can get tricky. During the three-month period where I received wedding gifts, I kept a running list of what I had received and from whom each time a package came to the door. Then, each Sunday, I sat down at my desk and wrote out a half-dozen thank-you notes for all the gifts I’d received during that week. (It really does go faster if you knock several out at one time, instead of trying to get yourself into the letter-writing mood several different times over the course of the week.)

Some so-called “experts” say that you may take up to a year to write thank-you notes for your wedding gifts – don’t listen to them. Although this is tempting, it’s incredibly bad taste. Often times, people even wonder if you got their gift at all, which means you’ll need to write a thank-you note ASAP if, for no other reason, to assure them that their gift arrived.

Question: If I’ve already thanked someone in person, do I need to thank them again?

It depends, partially, on how well you know them. If they’re not close friends, then you certainly need to send them a thank-you note in addition to thanking them in person. And often times, we overlook the ones we love the most: after our wedding, I held off on writing my thank-you notes to close girlfriends and family in favor of getting the more formal thank-you notes to my husband’s family, god parents, and distant friends and relatives out of the way first. I knew they wouldn’t mind being pushed back, but I also didn’t forget about them entirely, either. The moral of the story being that even though your close friends and family may not expect a separate “thank you,” that means it’s even more surprising and pleasant when they get one.

Question: Okay, so let’s begin – how to I address the person?

Once upon a time, it was impolite to write the address of a woman using her first name (unless she was a divorcee), hence all the “Mrs. John Doe” stuff. Some older women (like my old-school Italian grandmother) prefer this; many middle-aged and younger women who have made careers of their own do not. When I get a chance to have an intimate conversation with a woman, I usually ask them outright: “How do you prefer to be addressed?” Barring that, here are the simple rules I follow:

• If a woman is a professional (such as a doctor), be sure to use her pre-fix title, such as Dr. Amy Harrison, or Judge Jennifer Stanhope.
• If one spouse is a doctor, address it as “Dr. Jane Smith and Mr. David Williams” or vice-versa.
• If both spouses are doctors, address it either “Drs. Jane Smith and David Williams” or “Drs. Jane and David Smith,” depending on the last name/marriage factor.
• If a woman is unmarried but over 18, use Ms. (the marriage-neutral form of Miss/Mrs) to be safe. When pronouncing this title out loud, it sounds like “Mizz” instead of “Miss” or “Missus.”
• If a woman is married, but had kept her own last name, stick with Ms. as well. If the note is being addressed to both spouses who have separate last names, use “Ms. Jane Smith and Mr. David Williams.”
• If a woman is married, and has taken her husband’s last name, then use Mrs. Jane Smith or, more informally, Janie and Dave Smith.
• If a young woman is still under 18 (say, your niece), it’s fine to address her as “Miss.” Otherwise, leave off the Miss unless a woman specifically requests it. For example, my childhood friend Marie is 26, unmarried, and has a career of her own, but still prefers to go by the Southern style of Miss Marie Clarke.

When addressing them in the letter themselves, it’s usually fine to write “Dear Jane.” If it’s a thank-you note for a business purpose (such as a follow-up on a job interview), then use “Ms. Smith” unless she has instructed you to call her “Jane.” The same goes for men.

Examples: Alright already – just show me how to do it!

Follow this formula:

1. Address the couple warmly
2. Write what, specifically, you are thanking them for
3. Jot down something that you particularly enjoyed about the event or gift – why it was special
4. Thank them for their thoughtfulness
5. Sign your name with an appropriate closure

For a couple we know quite well who invited us to share their tickets to the Opera:

Dear Jane and David,

Last Friday was the high point of our summer! While Jack and I have both been to the Opera plenty of times separately, this was our first time to attend together since we’ve been married. We’re so glad we were able to share this moment with you. Madame Butterfly was so beautiful; we had such a wonderful time. It was so kind of you to think of us. We hope to be able to return the favor soon!

Love,

Lily Beth & Jack

For a more formal couple (a friend of our parents) who we’ve never met in person, but sent us a wedding gift:

Dear Mr. and Mrs. Smith,

We can not thank you enough for the gorgeous pewter serving tray. We used it for our post-wedding brunch and received to many compliments on it – it truly added grace and elegance to our table setting. It was so incredibly kind of you to think of us on our wedding day. We regret that you could not attend, but we kept you in our hearts. I’ve enclosed a program from our wedding. If you are ever in town, please don’t hesitate to call us – we would love to meet you and show you around.

Warm regards,

Lily Beth and Jack

The more tricky things – note of apology:

If you’ve screwed up in some way that adversely affected someone else, a phone call is usually the most sincere route to go. (I know it’s sometimes hard to admit your faults verbally, but if you’ve made a mistake, cowboy up and do it!) Often times, a follow-up note doesn’t hurt either.

Dear Jenny,

I do apologize for having to call and cancel our RSVP to your party on Sunday night. As I said on the phone, I accepted your invitation without realizing we had already committed to entertaining houseguests from Phoenix that weekend. I really should have double-checked my calendar, and I am truly sorry for any difficulty this may have caused with seating or catering. Jack and I were so disappointed we are that we could not make it. We hope it won’t be too long before we see you and Michael again.

Affectionately,

Lily Beth

A final note: Finding your “natural voice” from Emily Post, Etiquette Queen:

Have no fear: You don’t have to excel at writing to compose a good note or letter. The best personal letters are conversational, reflecting both your personality and speech. A few simple steps will make the recipient feel as if the two of you were chatting:

• Don’t replace phrases typical of your speech with more formal language. Someone who would say, “The buzz at work is…” sounds stilted when she writes, “The topic giving rise to the most gossip…”
• Use contractions. Since you almost certainly choose “I don’t know” over “I do not know” when speaking, go with the same words when writing.
• Occasionally, insert the person’s name to add a touch of familiarity and affection. “And, Beth, guess what we’re going to do this summer?” makes Beth feel as though you’re honestly thinking about her as you write.
• Use punctuation to enliven your writing. Underlining a word or using an exclamation point after a phrase or sentence gives emphasis where you want it. (Just don’t overdo it – and no smiley face under the exclamation point, please.) You can set off phrases with a dash: “We went to a dance last night – what a party!” has more pizzazz than “We went to a dance last night, and it was great.”
• Keep it as short as possible. The brief tale is always more interesting than the drawn-out one.

Attending the Opera

I attended a smashing performance of Madame Butterfly last night. It was the first opera I’ve seen in awhile, and it occurred to me that if I hadn’t worked at an opera house for a few years, negotiating the quagmire of “classical arts” etiquette might be completely overwhelming.

Dress

I couldn’t help but notice a more-than-usual amount of young women who looked like they were dressing to go to The Viper Room instead of the Opera: tight, gold mini-dresses and matching gold lamé stilettos, or worse, fake cheetah print jackets with bright red lipstick and huge sunglasses that they wore pushed back on their heads the entire time.

Now I know that Opera is lauded as an “anyone can come” type of event, because we want fine arts to be accessible to everyone, yadda yadda yadda, and I still truly believe that. But I also believe, if the Opera house is going to be kind enough to extend you the courtesy of taking you “as you are,” then you should be respectful enough to dress reverently. Or at least take a stab at it.

A formal dress is never out of place at a traditional Opera – in fact, it’s a good excuse to break out the stuff too fancy to wear to regular events. For example, last night I wore a Grecian-styled black Halston. It was simple and elegant – because it is long, it is a bit too elegant to wear to cocktail parties, but because it is simple, it doesn’t run the risk of hitting the Opera dress ceiling. It’s an all-around safe bet.

Many people say that you should dress for the Opera how you dress for church, but I find this problematic for two reasons: 1) I’m atheist, and 2) have you seen the way young girls are dressing for church lately? I like to modify this rule, instead, to “dress the way you would dress if you were meeting your conservative mother-in-law for the first time.” In essence, leave your Forever 21 see-through mini-dress at home.

If you’re anti-dress/skirt, for whatever reason, you can get away with slacks and a nice blouse. (And by blouse, I mean “possesses either sleeves or a collar.”) If you’re at a traditional opera house, and not a black-box, then opt for nice but comfortable heels unless you have orchestra seats – negotiating three flights of stairs six times in a night can be treacherous.

My rule for men is that they can wear jeans if they are neat and clean (no rips, tears, or paint splatters), but they need to dress that up with a tie. If they’re anti-tie, like my husband is, then that calls for slacks with your dress shirt.

Buying Tickets

Here’s the thing about ticket pricing – the most expensive tickets are not always the best seats. In fact, the most expensive tickets are usually box seats, which are set very far off to the right or left side. This is because the sort of people who sit in box seats usually come to the opera to be seen by others, and almost everyone in the house can see the box seats.

Orchestra seats right up front may not be your best bet, either, if you’re interested in acoustics. The best sound is often directed at the first or second balconies. And be careful of any seat set far left or right – operas often have large, fantastic sets, and you want to be able to see everything straight on! Most of the time, a center seat in the balcony is much better than a far-sided seat on the floor.

When in doubt, drop by the box office in person a day or two before, or call and talk to a box office representative. If you’ve never been to the house before, you’ll have questions about the seating chart, run time, intermissions, and parking.

Arrival

Get there early. The Opera is not the place to be fashionably late – in fact, many managers won’t admit late patrons until the first intermission (usually an hour into the opera!) In addition, operas are long, as are the lines to the ladies rooms; get there early enough to use the facilities, get a drink, and talk to people you might run into. Last night was the first night my husband and I had been to the opera together, and we still ran into half-a-dozen people that we knew, all of whom require 2-3 minutes of polite conversation.

Conventions

Don’t talk or hum. No air-conducting. Turn off your cell phone – check it twice.

Leave the yelling of “Bravo!” to people who know the difference between “Bravo,” “Brava,” and “Brave.” If you’re nervous about when to clap, wait for others to begin clapping. (Usually, clapping doesn’t happen until the end of each act, but sometimes it breaks out spontaneously after a particularly impressive performance.) Tis better to have not clapped at all than to have been the only person clapping.

Opera seating, especially in balcony levels, can be tight. I am a big believer in shedding my high heels and sliding them neatly under my seat or slightly to the side as soon as the lights go down. But do this quietly, and don’t wait for the performance to start before you begin clattering around trying to get those strappy stilettos off.

Most opera houses now have what’s called “super-titles” on a screen directly above the stage. This translates the lines in English, so you can keep up with the plot. In addition, they’ll offer a synopsis (a summary of what happens) in the playbill, which is usually pretty detailed. Some people don’t read the synopsis because they want to be surprised; I read the synopsis before each act so that I can be carried along on the music without worrying about who’s sleeping with who, who’s taking revenge on who, etc.

A Final Note

That being said, don’t be afraid! The opera is a completely unique experience, which means that even if you only see one a year, it’s still a nice break from the every-day. Make it an outing with friends – gather up your closest fellow music-lovers, make reservations at a nice restaurant beforehand, and then trek over to the opera house. Many operas are now putting together what is called YP (young professionals) groups, which usually have pretty chic after-parties at local establishments.