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It's amazing how we need others to give us permission to break with societal norms and do the unthinkable. I don't mean unthinkable acts like marrying your first cousin. Unless you're royalty, in which case, it's probably ok. Rather, I'm referring to what passes for unthinkable among neurotic social climbers in New York. I remember reading a few years ago in the food section of the NYT that it was once again OK to order pudding for dessert. I had no idea it had been verboten. But I can only imagine the shame that some New Yorkers must have felt for once having considered ordering a Crème Brûlée. Today the Times brings yet more relief with a column giving us permission to drink our red wine chilled. Feeling guilty about the ice cube you slipped into your Cabernet last week? You are forgiven. Even better, you're encouraged to chill boldly. I like the columnist, Eric Asimov. He's an entertaining writer and has broad tastes, occasionally reviewing non-wine beverages, such as Belgian trappist ales (yum) and American root beers. I think it says more about his audience that Asimov spends two-thirds of the column having to make the case for chilling reds, before he can get to the practical questions of which reds and how. Still, permission is permission. So before anyone changes their mind, I'm going to have me some rice pudding and a nice, iced Tempranillo this evening. Not together though. That would be verboten.