I’ve always seen wine as a literary being, not so much a chemical or agricultural product. The relationships we realize and develop with whatever wines we prefer and chase down are OURS. Don’t just blindly follow some sommelier or critic. Don’t let them tell you to like or dislike the character in the bottle. Approach the story with an open mind, I suggest. Last night’s Chardonnay still on my thoughts with its slow rolls over my senses, punctuating its prime shapeliness and subtleties. For a while, right after opening the bottle, I just sipped— Didn’t look at my phone, didn’t take a single note in the Composition Book, just listened to what it had to say. I listened to it like my mother was talking, or sister, close friend or one of my children in their own unique tongue. The communication was elevated, and yes because I enjoyed the wine. But, even if I don’t like what I sip, I still listen. I learn from the flavor construction and the tactile composition of the wine’s momentum. In wine being literary, it’s alive, cognitive, evolutionary, complicated and self-contradicting, musical and unpredictable. If I’ve ever followed a wine, and let it deliver its thesis before I react, it was last night. Tellement amoureux.