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Sliding Into Grace

The myth goes as follows. A venerable wine (most probably a red Bordeaux, and likely from the Left Bank) is brought up from the cellar, with all due reverence. It has been lying there undisturbed for decades, accruing dust, shedding tannins, mellowing into maturity, dreaming who knows what dreams. The bottle is opened, with infinite […]

by Tim Atkin · source ↗

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