This afternoon, while walking through the cobbled streets of Lyon, I noticed how the air filled with a particular aroma of tobacco and anise. A group of friends laughed around a small table with tall pastis glasses, accompanied by small bites of charcuterie. It was, without a doubt, the magic of the French apéritif in action.
The apéritif is much more than a simple gathering before dinner. It is an art. In my experience here, I have discovered that it is a moment to enjoy company, letting wine or liquor loosen tongues and a cheese board pave the way for unexpected and genuine conversations.
I remember my first invitation to an apéro in Paris. I admit I was surprised by the variety of small dishes: black olives, slices of baguette spread with pâté, and a bottle of Côtes du Rhône that seemed endless. What seemed like a casual meeting turned into a celebration of togetherness, enjoying the moment.
Since then, I’ve had my own version of the apéritif. Adding a warm chipa to the table—perhaps drastically different for some—always sparks curiosity and sometimes a knowing smile. It’s my way of linking my Paraguayan heart with French tradition.
Perhaps the true beauty of the apéritif lies in its ability to stop time. A genuine pause that invites us to savor both food and stories. When was the last time you stopped to enjoy, unhurriedly, a simple aperitif?
Next time you encounter a gentle sunset, I encourage you to try it. Set up a table with your favorites, invoke calm and laughter, and simply let the world go by at a slower pace.