Potential. A humble grape, with its meaty flesh sealed tight by a waxy skin, waits. This cluster, in mid-winter, missed the harvest. Missed the chance to be pressed and bottled into fine wine. Missed the chance to be sniffed and swirled and boasted over. Instead, the cluster remained clinging to the vine. Instead, it waited…
We were excited about this wine: a Louis Jadot Puligny-Montrachet 1984. It had sat quietly waiting in the darkness of the cellar where flecks of mold found their way along the label. But the contents remained clear. As we poured the wine into our glasses, we marveled at the intenseness of its color made ever more brilliant by the final rays of the setting sun.
We sat, quiet, watching the afternoon sun throw gems through the church windows of our wine.
#WineWednesday @KarltheFog “Today’s forecast: mostly foggy with a high chance of forgetting what warmth feels like.”
#Fogust continues. I was 15 miles inland before the clouds broke. Suddenly the house Chardonnay in a water glass was a beautiful thing.
Sometimes Wednesday needs a glass of wine and a listening heart.
“The only athletic sport I ever mastered was backgammon.”
–Douglas William Jerrold, English dramatist
[and wine tasting]
–Living Life Forté
“Wine and friends are a great blend.” — Ernest Hemingway (writer, hunter, drinker)
Bottling Weekend is the one time it is acceptable to tell someone, “Put a cork in it.”
A good day in the valley includes old friends, wine, and sunshine.
Good friends, go in, and taste some wine with me; And we, like friends, will straightway go together. … The ides of March are come.
Your words are my food, your breath my wine.
“A house without a cat is like a day without sunshine, a pie without formage, a dinner without wine.”