By Jessica Yadegaran
Friday, March 16th, 2007 at 3:48 pm in Uncategorized.
Is it just me, or is there something inherently magical about drinking a glass of Champagne? It certainly looks glamorous in your hand; it’s silvery glint a hint of what’s to come. When it coats the sides of your mouth, the tingle is impossible to ignore. It wakes you up. Almost instantly, you lengthen your spine. And that aroma. Anything from citrus fruits to a must that reminds you of vintage couture. Of course, there is no discussion of Champagne’s effect without the mention of bubbles. The transformations are Cinderella-like.
I drank a bottle of 2001 Clover Hill, a Tasmanian sparkling, the other night with a couple very much in love, and a friend of theirs, who was suffering from a wounded heart. The wine wasn’t cold enough, yet the bubbles put up quite a fight, resisting escape from the stemless tumblers we drank from. With every sip, the couple told us of their courtship. They did all the things you’re not supposed to do. Meeting the parents on the second date. Saying ‘I love you’ in the second week. We laughed; I mean the three of us did. But the sad friend seemed to sink deeper into a pensive state, all the while commenting on the rigor of the Tasmanian bubbles.
I think the wine provided some kind of hope for him. I know it did for me. Because I realized it’s not just the Champagne that’s magical, but the situations it brings you to. I loved every minute of that meal, and the hope that this couple gave me. It’s a juju I just can’t put my finger on.