“Salami farts,” he’d proclaim. We tasted a red from Burgundy he pronounced the “Sophia Loren of wine,” a Chablis he called “the crack cocaine of Chardonnay,” and a Riesling he christened “the face that launched a thousand ships.” An excellent Pinot Noir was a “fuck-you-sideways wine,” a big California Cabernet was a “fuck-you wine”—aka a “purple bazooka,” aka “solid juice,” aka “purple oak juice.” He deemed one Sauvignon Blanc “asparagus fart water with extra grapefruit.”
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