From one producer in the Beaujolais, Richard bought a twenty-five-liter barrel of a light, tart nouveau to bottle at home. I told him that it would be impossible to market such a wine in California. “It is too light, too green.” “But that’s exactly what I like about it,” he responded. Together we bottled it, corked it, and sloshed down a happy quantity one afternoon. No, we did not discuss the pH, the oak, the body, the finish. But there was a gaiety to it; the tart fruit perfumed the palate and the brain; it seemed thirst-quenching, and yet our thirst was never so quenched that another
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