"Vile, isn't it?" Carmilla tried the wine, too, and practically spit it out again. Who could serve fake wine at an admittedly nice party? She'd honestly have preferred they just put out grape juice if they were going to be such babies about it. "How are we supposed to suffer through this sober?"

Big mistake. Huge. Anyway, her nose wrinkles at the uncertainty. "Ravioli." She turns to properly look at her company, sending a discerning eye from head to toe. "How do you not know what ravioli is?" It's not as mean-spirited a question as it could have been (considering who is asking it). She's just genuinely dumbfounded.