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Messages in a Bottle: Wine Over Time |
We all have times of silent reflection, meditation or prayer in which we voice to ourselves things both profound and petty. One of my recurring prayers (there is nothing else it can be called, really) goes something like this: May there never be a time when wine loses its magic for me.
Sometimes this feels vaguely religious. I have such faith in the mystical conversion of simple grapes into something that transcends its origins, even as it transcends fruit itself. I give thanks for the magic of aromas of honeysuckle, caramel, mint and chocolate created solely by wood and grape juice.
Other times my devotion feels like that of a cheese lover praying he?ll never become lactose intolerant. I?ve watched a wine-drinking friend of mine slowly, and then very rapidly over the last three years, develop an allergy to all fermented alcohol. It?s been difficult for him, as he enjoyed wine and beer, and difficult for me to watch. The idea of that happening to me, though? Let?s just say I couldn?t have any sharp objects around me for a long, long time. (read more)
gilded fork, wine, food writing, Alder Yarrow
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