Sorry I'm late, I was doing the scary thing
Sorry I'm Late, I Didn't Want To Come by Jessica Pan x Château Cambon, Gamay
Hello introverts, extroverts, and my fellow in-betweeners,
Today’s pairing is another inspired from the amazing Gentle Book Club set up by
. The review is technically late - belonging to the past season - and I can’t decide if that’s ironic or apt given the book in question: ’s Sorry I’m Late, I Didn’t Want to Come.I’m going to pair it with something that I like to think of as an ambiverted wine. It’s a wine that stands on its own - that you can sip as social lubrication at a fancy soiree, serve with a tasty dinner for your nearest and dearest, or you can simply enjoy at the end of a long day as a special treat for yourself. It’s also our first best-served-chilled red wine, so read on to discover our pairing!
Let’s start off by saying Sorry I’m Late is a genuinely wonderful book. The only reason this review is delayed at all is because I was listening to the audio version like a podcast, loading it up each morning with my coffee. It was too good to rush. It felt like having breakfast with a friend - a witty, courageous, incredibly self-aware friend who just so happened to be pushing all of her boundaries all at once.
And yes, at times I felt my whole body coil with the urge to reach out and say ‘oh no, stop, it’s okay to leave, just go home, it’s fine’. But I also celebrated what felt like seismic wins - which is why I’m going to go around to everyone pushing this book on them.
The nutshell version of Sorry I’m Late is that it’s a humorously written memoir by Jess Pan about her year-long experiment of overcoming social anxiety by saying yes to every social invitation and challenge. It's a witty exploration of (sh)introversion, fear, and the unexpected joys of stepping out of one's comfort zone.
I admit that I went in asking ‘How much more could there be to write about being shy and introverted? I’ve read about ‘beta’ leaders and why ‘the success myth’ is based around extroversion, after all. But Pan had me 100% sold on page four when she quit her job and ‘with no back-up option, called [herself] a freelancer’ - something I very much relate to. In fact, all of those opening moments resonated - feeling alone in London, worrying about friendships drifting, staring at the future and wondering whether youthful dreams of creativity, vibrancy and fullness were still within reach. I’ve been there. And so, in fewer words than you can cram on an A4 sheet of paper, I was invested. I wanted to know what Pan would do.
I wanted to know if I could do any of it too.
In my early twenties, I dated a guy who was obsessed with things like the Enneagram tests and the Myers-Briggs. He was incredibly proud of being an INTJ, which he confidently told me was ‘the rarest personality type’ and he raised a sceptical eyebrow when my results (because he insisted I find out) put me as ANFJ, which turned out to be rarer.
Rare, of course, doesn’t mean better. It was just nice to have one up on him. And those were simpler times - it was pre-Trump, pre-Brexit, pre-Covid. Personality tests were being passed around like horoscopes, perhaps because we were all being asked to do them as part of job applications. We used the sixteen personalities to interpret our work stresses, friendship hangups, who we should or shouldn’t be dating.
The ‘A’, it turned out, was for ‘ambivert’. I scored a bizarrely perfect 50/50 on the balance of introversion to extroversion, taking energy from time spent with people (to a point) and from time spent alone (to a point). The NF made sense of my idealistic, creative, highly sensitive nature. The J suggested that I value structure - something I would refute at the time because I liked to think of myself as spontaneous.
It’s not all nonsense but we should take all of the above with a healthy pinch of salt - I’m of the opinion that online personality quizzes are prime for confirmation bias so we only read what we want of them. However, in this case, our personality types have remained a worm-can conversation with my friends, particularly considering introversion and extroversion.
For example, one of my best friends is probably the loudest person you’d ever met, gregarious and a bit ridiculous - but his energy is 100% recharged on his own, making him an introvert by definition. Similarly, even though I’ve always thought of myself as introverted and shy, this isn’t at all what others think of me. They don’t see a bookish, anxious, slightly awkward thirty-something. They see someone who’s confident in sharing ideas, unapologetically nerdy, who brings people together over raclette, and who will chat long into an evening with a glass of wine. I love doing these things. That doesn’t make them not exhausting.
As Pan writes, ‘I met so many other introverts who were acting as extroverts over the course of these challenges. It surprised me, but it shouldn’t have.’
Because our understanding of introversion and extroversion isn’t quite as simple as we may have heard. In reading Sorry I’m Late, I was reminded that not only are our personalities not binary but the traits that define us are flexible too. We can borrow extroverted traits to succeed at work and social settings. We can adopt introverted traits to step back and better understand ourselves.
I’m glad I took this book slowly. Having wrangled with the lonelier aspects of freelance life since January, I found the reminders to get out there and create your own (personal, social, joyful, purposeful) life perfectly timed. As I’ve read, I’ve pushed myself to chat more to the women in my reformer class and at the pool, to reach out to busy friends more often (and not assume it’s an imposition), to still set alone time aside where needed but to make social plans more often as well. Connections are everything.
A little like with Weathering by
, I don’t want to say too much because I think this is a book we all will take different things from, and probably different chapters will resonate more or less depending on where we are during our read-through.What is lovely though is that for anyone else on the introverted scale, Sorry I’m Late is not a book that says you need to become an extrovert. Pan is fully on the side of the quieter and more observational among us and she doesn’t ask anyone to deny a central personality trait.
Instead, it is a warm hand held out and a reminder that none of us should feel trapped in an unhappy life of our own making. Like Claude, it is a book that says: ‘I hope that you are well and that you do nice things.’
The Pairing: Beaujolais Château Cambon, Gamay
Now, I’m calling this an ‘ambiverted’ wine for a few reasons.
Hand-harvested and wild-fermented, this wine captures the heart of its origin, offering an authentic, unfiltered expression that’s both refreshingly lively and intriguingly complex. It’s also a wine that adapts beautifully to a variety of settings and palates. Whether you're enjoying it chilled on a summer's day or pairing it with a hearty winter meal, this Gamay never fails to impress. I’ve had it in deepest darkest December next to a log fire and I’ve enjoyed it whilst reading on the lawn in the summer and I’ve shared it with friends and I’ve savoured it on my own, purely for the sake of having something wonderful to drink.
The Wine: Château Cambon’s Gamay comes from the biodynamic vineyards of the Beaujolais region and specifically from a vineyard run by Marie Lapierre, the wife of ‘The Gamay Godfather’ Marcel Lapierre (the family estate is Morgon, one of the ten crus of Beaujolais). Like her husband, Marie has adopted a natural approach to wine-making and as a result you get a wine that captures tradition and terroir whilst also being super modern and - most importantly - delicious. It’s also a wine that doesn’t just sit in a glass - it starts a conversation. Even if that conversation is ‘oh wow, I didn’t know reds could be chilled’.
Tasting Notes: If you ever listen to a piece of music and feel yourself falling a little bit in love, this is that wine. Bright ruby and incredibly light of body, this wine is delightfully balanced - the bright red berry notes (think cherry, raspberry) and subtle earthy and spicy undertones make it engaging and approachable. To drink, it’s fresh and juicy - the palate dominated by vibrant red fruit flavors, including strawberry and cranberry. There's a pleasant acidity that makes it extremely refreshing, with soft tannins and a slightly earthy undertone. Serve it chilled and you’ll find it a smooth and lingering finish with just a whisper of spice and a touch of minerality. A kiss from a rose on the grey, as they say.
Where can you buy it? My first bottle came from Unwined in Waterloo but there many online and local suppliers who sell it across the UK.
Fun facts: Okay, you may be curious about cold reds and when to chill your bottle. Here’s the golden rule: “Chill the light and fruity to keep them bright, but for the big and bold the room’s just right.” In other words, you should only chill lighter bodied, fruitier reds where this can enhance their refreshing qualities. Often this also means the red is younger (as with most Gamays) and the cooler serving temperature will also temper their acidity. Even then, it’s not as cold as you might go with a rosé or a white at 12-14°C. Don’t, however, be tempted to chill a heavier wine or wines with lots of tannins. All you’re going to do is lose flavour and potentially make them super astringent if you serve them too cold. Of course, that doesn’t mean you want to serve at 30+ degrees just because it’s a roasting summer’s day - if you’re eyeing a Syrah, Merlot or Cab Sauv, these are best at a cool room temperature (16-18°C).
Harriet this is genius! So glad to have gently guided Sorry I'm Late your way ;) x
I'd forgotten that I have "Sorry I'm Late" in my TBR pile. As an introvert who gets nervous about people messaging me asking to hangout, I think I should read this one very soon, LOL. Thanks for the book review and the wine reco too!