Many years ago, I was having lunch at the old London Chop House in Detroit. I was there with a very erudite Frenchman from one of the great wine families.
The host asked the entire table to name the best wine we had ever had. After some awkward answers and evasions, our French guest simply raised a finger and announced “I have one.”
It seems that his parents, wanting him to have a truly international education, sent him off to Harvard Business School in the 1950s.
He arrived here shy, with English as his second language, and felt very out of place.