What were you doing in 1922?

Being me can be pretty awesome sometimes, especially when I’m occasionally  given the some pretty sweet opportunities, and once in a blue moon these opportunities may include trying a really bloody good wine.

Recently one of these wine related opportunities was to try a glass of a red which was bottled in 1922 – just so that 91 years later I could savor the moment when it’s lightly coloured liquidy self could pass my lips and I could say I have drunken a wine which could even rival my great grandmother’s would-be age.

I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, when it comes to wine I don’t know what the hell I’m taking about, though in the simplest way I can convey; it’s sweet without being sickly, with a smell that is most definitely strong (like a shock to the eyes as you hold up within a foot of your mouth), yet still being pleasurable. Basically, it was like liquid heaven, and the most amazing thing I have ever, and will ever taste again.


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