Aviner: a French verb having to do with winetasting
Wednesday, February 23, 2011
I've seen a lot of corks in my day, but have never seen them so displayed... picture taken in the village of Nuits St. Georges, in Burgundy.
aviner (ah vee nay)
: to rinse one's wine glass with wine before sampling another wine
Example Sentence:
Avant de déguster un nouveau vin, il faut aviner le verre.
Before tasting a new wine, you must rinse your glass.
A Day in a French Life... by Kristin Espinasse
Expensive Spit
Yesterday we were late, late, late, to a very important Burgundian date! "Je déteste être en retard," Jean-Marc admitted, as he circled the car round the block once again in search of the exclusive address. You wouldn't know it by the neighborhood, where clunky cars such as our own were parked (where was the private jet landing and where were the Jaguars?). And the (abandoned) front office--which we would eventually find--with its modest table and chairs, would not give away this vineyard's forte: that of making the rarest wine on the planet.
Found loitering beneath the rain in the parking lot, Jean-Marc and I apologized as we were escorted, dripping wet, down some steep concrete stairs, into the subterranean tasting room. Almost slipping off a step, I was glad to have worn sensible shoes--and not the high heels that I'd wanted to.
Coming out of a dark corridor, rows of dusty bottles behind us, we stood peering into the sacred room, which stood, VIP after VIP, peering back at us!
Jean-Marc and I "sklunked" like thieves into the small stone-vaulted salle de dégustation. I don't know whether it was our lateness or a feeling of out-of-placeness, whichever, we were very fortunate to take part in this private tasting... having been smuggled into the appointment by a wine writer* and friend.
I watched Jean-Marc kiss Robert, then proceed to greet the others in the group. I followed my husband's example, planting two bisous on our friend's joues... and I kissed the next VIP and the next, quickly changing to handshaking when I realized my gaffe (Jean-Marc had only kissed those he knew, c-à-d, the other wine-makers smuggled in by Robert, characters we'd had the chance to meet last year in Sicily).
From here on we tried to quickly and discreetly blend into the group, which was currently being asked to "aviner". "Pardon me," I eventually asked, wondering whether it was wrong to break the silence... "but what does "aviner" mean?" I could not resist the urge to know this verb.
The man with the houndstooth coat and silk scarf lowered his chin and studied me, his eyes now perched above his glasses: "it means to rinse out your wine glass".
Robert broke the silence by conjugating the verb and so putting it to practice: "Avinons-nous, everyone?" and with that glasses were rinsed. Because I had no glass to rinse (having turned down the offer to taste the rare wines--I hoped this was not Gaffe Number Three), I stood and watched, awkwardly. That's when Robert handed me his camera. "You seem to know how to take photos," he said with a smile. "Would you like to take a few for me?" What a relief it was to find employment! I set off to capture the event, now feeling very much in my element.
But when the man in the beautiful coat and the low-lying glasses mentioned: "...photos are for your private collection only..." I nodded obediently. It was dommage to not be able to share these images, but I was grateful, nevertheless, to keep my job!
Driving home that evening, I couldn't help but ask my husband, Chief Grape, about the rare wines he had tasted: were they really that good? Jean-Marc confirmed that they were.
"Gosh, it must have cost ten bucks a sip!" I pointed out, only to notice the amused look on Jean-Marc's face. "Let's just say that each time a guest spat out the wine into the spittoon, it was like spitting hundred dollar bills!"
"Sans déconner!"" No longer did I wonder about my "missed chance" to taste the exclusive wine. I was just thankful not to have wasted one cent!
Postnote: In the car ride home, as Jean-Marc savored the wine, which lingering on his tongue, I was savoring another rare and precious commodity: my sobriety.
Le Coin Commentaires
Corrections, questions, and comments of your own are welcome in the comments box. Don't be shy, join us in this cosy community corner! Click here to leave a message or to guess where this wine tasting took place!
* read about wine writer and friend Robert Camuto, just below...
French Vocabulary
je déteste être en retard = I hate being late
la salle de dégustation = wine tasting room
bisous = kisses
la joue = cheek
dommage = too bad
sans déconner = no kidding!
c-à-dire (c'est-à-dire) = that is to say
Update! (this just in from Suzanne, a reader): I think deconner comes from the word "con" ... so it's a stronger and more vulgar meaning than "no kidding"! When I was growing up in Cote d'Ivoire, my French mom would have washed my mouth out with soap. I know it's commonly used, I say it all the time, but it's more like " no shit!" . " "Sans blague" or "sans blaguer" is what I would say...but I definitely cracked up when I saw "deconner"!!
And many thanks to Robert Camuto (check out his latest book), for inviting us to join the Sicilians in Burgundy! Robert will begin a USA book tour next month. Don't miss it! Check out this page for details.
In other books: Paris Café by Noel Riley Fitch:
In this droll, delicious little volume, Fitch and Tulka provide an affectionate portrait of the Select Cafe, one of those famous Paris eateries that have served as candles to intellectual moths--French, American, and otherwise--for nearly a century.
Order a copy and help support this French word journal. Note: once you have entered Amazon feel free to choose any book or product (from books to dog biscuits!). Your purchase of any item will help support this free language journal. Click here to enter Amazon.
This is our 15-year-old, Max. Behind him is one of our cement tanks, where visitors have signed their names :-)
A Message from Kristi: Ongoing support from readers like you keeps me writing and publishing this free language journal each week. If you find joy or value in these stories and would like to keep this site going, donating today will help so much. Thank you for being a part of this community and helping me to maintain this site and its newsletter.
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For more online reading: The Lost Gardens: A Story of Two Vineyards and a Sobriety
I'm so sorry you can't share those photos Kristi. They would be interesting to see.
Candice
in Paris this week
Posted by: Candice | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 11:21 AM
The smile and those eyebrows, a true heartbreaker that little mouse.
I would have been more inquisitive to find out what a wine worth its weight in gold should taste like,especially since Chief-Grape said it was the real thing.
Posted by: Betty Gleason | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 11:58 AM
Hi Kristin,
What a wonderful opportunity to taste some of Burgundy's finest wines, it's a pity you weren't able to indulge. Like most people I know I buy fairly modestly for my own consumption and occasionally splash out when I'm sharing, but my splashing out rarely goes beyond 20€ a bottle ( and certainly not a fraction of what Jean-Marc's spittings were worth). I have a wonderful book by the wine writer Jancis Robinson where she describes various occasions when she had similar invitations to taste the finest vintages. I doubt that my own palate is sufficiently refined to appreciate the best even if I could afford them.
The little video clip of Max is nice and I think seeing face and mouth movements helps us anglophones become more francophonic.
Thanks for another new word, why didn't I know this one? It's probably because at my level of wine appreciation one normally just drains the dregs of the dry red before the pudding and it's sweet accompaniment is served.
Best wishes,
Mike.
Posted by: Mike Hardcastle | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 12:10 PM
I'm with Mike, I don't think my palate is refined enough to appreciate the finer vintages. I also seldom go beyond the $25 mark when buying a wine, except in restaurants, of course. Our one big wine splurge was buying a case of Chateauneuf du Pape and shipping it home when we were last in Provence.
Great video of Max and again I agree with Mike that it's nice to see the face and mouth movements of the speaker. (Maybe instead of writing all this out I should have just said "Ditto Mike's reply".)
Posted by: Bill in St. Paul | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 01:04 PM
Charming story, Kristin. Your "gaffes" are what make us expats more endearing, don't you think?
Hope Bourgogne was as enjoyable as I know it to be!
Posted by: Julia | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 01:14 PM
Hello Kristin,
Your trip from Ste Cécile-les-Vignes to "La Bourgogne" - and back - might have stolen hours of sleep, but there you are now, having witnessed a very privileged event!
So happy for you Robert gave you a camera... "Dommage" (a pity) you are not allowed to share the photos, but I do understand about the rules of privacy. Never mind. We have this most fantastic mural to compensate our curiosity.
I could easily read "Nuits St Georges" (famous enough to guess the name). I quickly clicked on the attractive top photo to see an enlarged version of all the "bouchons" on my screen. Great fun! I kept pressing [Ctrl +] and again, and again... and I enjoyed reading the glorious names of "caves" and wines totally unknown to me. I am not a "connaisseur"... As for the ritual of tasting, spitting, etc, I am not ashamed to admit it is all a bit much for me. I humbly confess I do like wine and I am ready to taste it... but then, I sip and swallow... and I have some more if I like it.
I knew the verb "raviner" - nothing to do with wine (it comes from "ravin" not from "vin"). When I saw the word of the day was "aviner", I couldn't "deviner du premier coup" (= guess at once) the action involved. I read the newsletter and then consulted Larousse: "aviner" = "imbiber de vin" (with the example of "aviner" a barrel) so now, knowing the real meaning of the verb "aviner", I've got a better idea of its use in the jargon of a wine tasting event!
Hello Max. I recognised you but thought you looked different. I think your "cheveux courts" make you look more grown up (won't be long till you are 16!) "Merci pour ta participation orale".
Here in Dorset, the verbs of the day are "pluviner" , "bruiner" - in other words, yes..., it's drizzling, drizzling, drizzling... That type of "pluie" is such a gentle rain, leaving glittering beads on twigs, sprigs and blades of grass...
Posted by: Newforest | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 01:24 PM
What a wonderful story and opportunity, too. Even without the photos, I could imagine the ambience of the "cave" and the characters sipping and commenting on the fine wine.
I'm with Newforest, that the tasting and spitting of so many wines is beyond me. The verb that comes to my mind is that it would "me ruiner."
And do you rinse the glass with wine or water? Is there a preference?
Thank you, Kristin, for sharing another great adventure.
Posted by: Ophelia in Nashville | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 02:33 PM
Hello Kristin,
Welcome home from Burgundy, the land of arcane methods and specialized vocabulary of all sorts. The latest example of the latter presents itself in your recent word of the day, a word of certain pedigree. Your host, or wearer of the hounds-tooth coat at least, was perhaps a little imprecise with his translation (if it was into English) or at least with his conception of the French word utilized, though with a manner 'très probante'. Which is to say 'aviner' has more to do with soaking wine into something rather than removing its residue from the glass. It probably follows from the prefix, 'a', (meaning, 'to, towards') with 'viner' (related to wine), literally than, "go to the wine". To add yet another term to the giant French lexicon for getting drunk, " s'aviner" steeps us further in the paradigm of soaking our-very-selves with wine. Jolly good story though, with all the necessary antagonists to make us fear where tread the more self-important (dare I say, steeped in it) than those certain parts of le Bourgogne.
Posted by: Tom Hodgman | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 02:38 PM
I have been with your blog since the start--you have helped and educated with such humor, feeling and gusto! I learn so many nuances and phrases I miss when staying in France for even months at a time--merci! One minor--VERY MINOR--correction of an English word in your column of today; I think you mean "skulked" rather than "sklunked", which I don't believe is a word. If you are like me, your computer probably made the switch without even asking! Thanks for keeping up the fantastic blog. I learn something every day.
Posted by: Judy nelson | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 03:00 PM
This was a great word to learn today because I've always been told that as long as you are tasting from lightest white to fullest red, that the French don't rinse their glasses, that it's called "seasoning" the glass. That it's better to have a little bit of wine in the glass than a little bit of water... Maybe it's because these were such rare and delicate wines? Or maybe I've just been fooled! ;-)
In any case, I've also been told that it is actually a faux pas to smell the cork and that it really isn't an indicator of anything, like examining the cork or smelling the actual wine would be. However, I saw several winemakers in Italy do it...
Oh how I love the wine world, there is always so much to learn!
Posted by: Carrie | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 03:03 PM
Bill - MDR (mort de rire, or LOL) for your Ditto Mikes Reply. (Newforest, do I need to put an e on mort, being a female?...)
Julia - I agree, our imperfections make us approachable and, hopefully, endearing!
Newforest and Tom - so glad you pointed out the true meaning of aviver. Now I realize that Jean-Marc hands, for example, are avivé de vin (soaked and smelling of wine) when he finishes his work in the cellar. I need to update this post... but I also need to try to get some cleaning up in the garden in today.... My goal is to come back and use some of your examples. Well see if that happens... Hopefully, readers have continued reading into the comments box... where all the good stuff is :-)
Also, Newforest, loved your verbs of the day - great idea (even if the weather isnt so great!)
Ophelia - me ruiner = MDR (another LOL...)
Judy - many thanks for your kind words - I smile knowing Mom will soon read it... and beam! And glad to have the word Id been looking for skulked.... even if something about sklunked (skunk + plunk?) appeals to me!
Carrie - good to see your comments on wine. Learning so much from everyones notes. Many thanks to all! --K
Posted by: Kristin Espinasse | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 03:13 PM
Hi Kristin,
I enjoyed the little video clip. Max's little smile and eyebrow lift is priceless. Is 'aviner' a new verb?
Posted by: Eileen deCamp | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 03:15 PM
Preparing for a big event, I opened a bottle of Mistral 2007 last night for dinner. Please tell Chief Grape that all of his efforts, including pulling the baobabs, are well worth it and much appreciated! Also, what a delight to enjoy a wine having tasted wines with its producer while sitting under the mulberry tree. I much prefer that to a Burgundian do!
Posted by: gary | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 03:49 PM
"Words, words, words!"
(10 centimes to the first to identify the source of that quote)
One of the things I love about English is that there is always room in it for a new word. "Sklunk, v. to slink in an awkward fashion" It perfectly conveyed the feeling; in a dark alley one might skulk, but surely tripping into a dark basement is a sklunking.
One of the things I love about French is that, thriftily, it is always finding a new way to make use of an extant word, as vis. "aviner".
Feeling very proud of myself for figuring out c-à-d from context...MDR...it takes so little.
Posted by: Zann | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 04:24 PM
Great job, Max!!!
I really enjoyed this entry, Kristin. I often share your words with my husband, and I'm sure he'll love this one!
Posted by: Shannon, Alexandria, VA | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 04:30 PM
Kristin, loved today's post. When we lived in France I was fortunate enough to attend a few 'foires aux vins pour la
degustation des vins'. My abilities to discern the different flavors in a certain wine or whether it was worth the investment were rather lame. However, I was extremely proud when, finally, I was able to make a direct hit in the 'spittoon', rather than the table or, even worse, someone's pants leg!
Posted by: Cindy | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 04:51 PM
Kristin,
It seems as if today, you've been more than once ->"Morte De Rire"!
Enjoy your tidying up and planting in the garden!
Here, "la petite bruine" (the fine drizzle) seems to have stopped, but it's too late -and too wet- to do any gardening.
Thanks to the Oxford-Hachette dict, I found out that "aviné(e) is an Adj lit. Bearing in mind the original meaning of the verb "aviner" = "imbiber une cuve de vin", and applying the idea to a person, "aviné(e)" = 'inebriated'.
In other contexts, for ex, breath ("l'haleine"), it means: smelling wine.
Interesting to see how the wine tasters use the verb for what they do before tasting the next wine in their glass!
Ophelia,
I understand the rinsing is done with ... wine I'm afraid - not water!
Posted by: Newforest | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 05:07 PM
Kristin...you certainly have the development of suspense down, with your postnote....”well, more about that later”!? When is later? it’s killing me!
And always merci for your expertise with the photos, transporting me back to France through the winter months when I’m not physically there, and for which I’m grateful, ( but it essentially makes me ‘homesick’).
A special case in point is in today’s F-W-a-D...”AVINER”. The ‘cork photo’ of a building in Nuits St. Georges is nearly a traffic stopper, at an intersection in that remarkable and delightful wine town in the Côte D’Or area of Burgundy. I’ve driven past that unusual mural dozens of times, either on the way to the Intermarché (that’s advertised on one of the corks) for grocery shopping, or providing our friends and guests with a memorable experience of this truly incredible wine country and it’s charming villages.
Bravo's and Kudo's to 'Chief Grape' for his fabulous Mistral!!!!!
It’s now just 91 days until we’re back to settle into the canal life of rural France,...but who’s counting!
Yerda
Posted by: Yerda Yearsley | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 05:11 PM
Hello, Kristin, Once again I must agree with Yerda's (She who must be obeyed) comment about 'When is later'? Your posts are happily received on both our computers and are always the subject of animated conversation. And, please, add my congratulations to J-M for his accomplishments with the 2009 Mistral. I can't remember if it was the '09 that we took back to Rival last spring from Sainte-Cecile - will we be able to get it when we visit in June?
Captain Bruce
Posted by: Bruce Taylor | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 05:52 PM
Delicious story, as usual. Interesting that the French use wine "aviner les verres." In Napa, there is always a pitcher of water for the glass-washing.
Kristin, Hooray for "sklunked." It popped the balloon of hot air, which seems to have hung over(pun intended)monsieur in the hounds' tooth plaid. Your description made me think of one of the characters in Rumpole of the Bailey. Great column; I look forward to its arrival in my inbox. Thank you so much.
Posted by: Luci | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 07:48 PM
J'adore: when one should "donner bisous a quelqu'un" and to whom or when to shake hands. It always messes me up too...hahahaha Last Summer in Paris, when I met my boyfriend's best-friend, I went to shake hands "serrer la main"(the American way)and he went to do the "Bise". Tres amusant! We ended up laughing a lot, then doing it the French way. :)
Your story today was like reading a scene in a movie. It was a lot of fun and I too wish you could share the photos!!
Posted by: Lisa A., CA | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 08:29 PM
Thank you for bringing smiles to my face thrice weekly!
Posted by: Kathleen King | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 08:59 PM
What a delightful story! Love the photo of the cork wall. In regards to the made up word "sklunked", I used to tell my students that since I was a language teacher I could make up words if I want to! So, as you are the resident writer (as it were), you are entitled to make up any words you like! I love all of your words :) And as far as the word of the day: I love that the French can provide us with a verb that looks to the future - encore de vin! Bien ecrit, ma chere Kristin. We eagerly await the next chapter . . . . PS. Wanted to mention that Peter Mayle in his Year in Provence and Toujours Provence writes quit wittly (I think I just made up a word!) about his experiences at formal, private wine tastings. Worth a read for any francophile!
Posted by: Candy in SW KS | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 09:39 PM
Wow, the location of this event is certainly a riddle! The most expensive wines in Burgundy are the top DRC wines but I cannot imagine getting lost in the tiny town of Vosne-Romanee, where the DRC offices are, and which is definitely not urban ugly.
The mural is in Nuits St. Georges, which means that you are north of Beaune -- so you are not tasting vintages of the rarest monopole in France (only 0.85 hectares), Bouchard's La Romanee, in Beaune (and besides, their offices and cellars there are very posh -- I've been there.)
The rarest really expensive wine in Burgundy is DRC's Montrachet (0.67 hectares and maybe 250 cases/year). And while the grapes for this come from the Cotes d'Or, it is vinified in Vosne-Romanee. So there is the location problem again.
So where are you, anyway? Once again, these must have been DRC wines, since they are the only ones I can think of where a single spit would be worth hundreds of dollars! And even then only their Romanee-Conti and Montrachet if the tasting were the 2011 introduction of the not so wonderful 2008 vintage. (And besides, who would spit these?) Of course, if the tasting is a vertical rather than the most recently released vintage it is a different matter. But it is the "rarest wine in the world" statement that is throwing me.
Please don't tease, Kristin. Tell us where, and what. You do not have to tell us who. (No, I am not in the wine trade, just a wine enthusiast and a retired art dealer.)
Posted by: Julian Baird, Cape Cod, Massachusetts, USA | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 10:04 PM
words,words, words?
In "My Fair Lady." Eliza sings, "Words, words, words, I'm so sick of words. All day long, first from him (Higgins), then from you (Freddie), Is that all you blighters can do?"
Personally, I LOVE words!
Joan L.
Posted by: Joan Linneman | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 10:24 PM
Give the little lady the prize!
Actually, I was thinking of Hamlet, when Polonius asks him what he's reading.
But, as a lover of American Musical Theatre, I should have remembered Eliza; she's so much more fun than the gloomy Dane.
Posted by: Zann | Wednesday, February 23, 2011 at 11:26 PM
I didn't think to ask whether anyone had been to Angouleme in the Charante to see the wall paintings there which are famous throughout France. They range from trompe-l'oeil to giant sized comic book cartoons and are well worth a visit.
Mike
Posted by: Mike Hardcastle | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 12:36 AM
Only the French would have the sophistication to come up with a word for rinsing the wine glass. I'll be sure to toss that around at the next wine tasting I attend.
Now what about a word for the crude: gargle & spit?
Posted by: Karen W (Towson, Maryland) | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 02:06 AM
"Sklunked" is surely an original blend of "slunk" and "skulk," no? It wasn't only Shakespeare who could coin new words!
Loved the story!
Posted by: Jan in Edmonton, Alberta (Canada) | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 02:20 AM
"Sklunked" sounded to me like soggy klunking or skulking or other combos thereof involving coming in from the rain.
Attended a dégustation of champagne last fall. Our host poured each glass over half full and we had several different champagnes to taste. No slurping and spitting there. The host clearly loved his product.
Posted by: Lee Isbell | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 09:37 AM
You didn't drink any wine and you are savoring a precious commodity...no, don't tell me, it can't be THAT, can it?!
Posted by: Sheila | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 01:26 PM
I loved your story Kristi. Once again I am amazed at the variety of your reportior (sp?).
I am happy to know that I can begin my day with your inner musings, you are responsible for setting the tone. Once again I am laughing as my heart aches for just one more day with you in Mexico.
You brought so much JOY into my life in the "early years", as I struggled to make our life work...you were such a special child...always happy, singing, laughing and telling me stories. When I remember you at 8, 9 and 10 years I am always so thankful for the lightness you brought into each day.
XOXO
MOM
Posted by: Jules Greer | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 02:56 PM
Regarding MAX'S day-beau (I know I have slaughtered that word, but spellcheck is dumber than me).
I believe you must have run down to the cellar and stuck the microphone in his face around 6 a.m. demanding his help. He looks shocked and cold and sleepy - what a great sport he is to put up with you.
I, of course being Max's #1 fan, think you should make him a regular on your blog...give him a little warning before you place him in front of 40,000 people and better yet, have a little conversation plus the word.
XOXO
A TYPICAL GRAND-MERE
Posted by: Jules Greer | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 03:05 PM
ZANN - what a delightful addition you are to "Le Coin Commentaries". Thanks for expanding my brain, I have now found the 'famous quotes' site on my computer. Very entertaining. I was hoping to win the dough - Huxley?
XOXO
JULES
Posted by: Jules Greer | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 03:16 PM
ZANN -
Many times during a conversation with Kristi I have said - "We must start a 'KRISTI QUOTES'.
I have laughed myself silly over some of her thoughts.
WHY NOT?
XOXO
JULES
Posted by: Jules Greer | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 03:23 PM
Loved hearing of your experience in Burgundy... Wow, you must have been in a very special place! Can you at least tell us where you were? I would also like to know where the wall painting is. We are in southern Burgundy where the wine is much less expensive but very nice in many cases. And then there are the whites in the Maconnais! They are my favorites!! Very interesting word - AND the best was "no kidding". Always wanting to learn!
Posted by: [email protected] | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 07:44 PM
Kristin, My husband, Marc, who is a former wine writer and a current member of the Chevaliers du Tastevin (international Burgundy wine society), believes that you were most likely at Domaine Romanee Conte. Second choice is Domaine Leroy and a distant third is Compte de Vogue (but this is nowhere as pricy as DRC). We are anxious for you to reveal where you were.
Barbara
P.S. I do enjoy reading your blog. Another interesting French word related to tasting wine is "cracher" -- to spit into the "crachoir."
Posted by: Barbara | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 10:03 PM
Shelia, I am thinking the same exact thing. Also, upset stomach on her recent trip. I wonder, wonder.
Kristin when will you tell us all. xoxoxo
Posted by: Karen from Phoenix, AZ | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 11:41 PM
Shelia & Karen - I had exactly the same thought.
Posted by: Jules Greer | Thursday, February 24, 2011 at 11:44 PM
Hi Kristin
I appreciate your vintners needs to 'network' but I'm afraid I can't abide wine snobs - in my opinion only a fool would pay hundreds of pounds for a bottle of wine - no matter how good it tastes!! Reminds me a bit of the culture and mentality behind the story of the 'Emperor's New Clothes'. Guess it was another experience of French culture to add to your memory box! I'm sure your wine is appreciated by many palates both fine and plebean without the need for approval from 'en haut'. I feel the same about the concept of 'haute cuisine' wherein the French seem to have raised cooking to religious heights. Pah!!
C'est la vie!!
love Robyn xx
Posted by: Robyn Daniels | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 03:41 AM
Hahaha, Karen, Mom, and Sheila (who started the rumor!): no, I am no preggers!
And for those of you who are wondering where we were... and what were
those rare wines... as Julian and a few others guessed : Domaine de la
Romanée-Conti, often abbreviated to DRC. (And no, we did not buy a
bottle, but were very fortunate to have experienced this event!)
Posted by: Kristin Espinasse | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 09:48 AM
And even if you would have wanted to buy a bottle, they would not let us...
What an experience !
Posted by: Jean-Marc Espinasse | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 11:24 AM
Thanks for revealing the site of the tasting. Planning our autumn trip to Burgundy and just read about Domaine Romanee-Conti.
Posted by: Suzanne, Monroe Twp., NJ | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 02:55 PM
This is my first blog participation - here goes. So many new words and places to look up. I found the music just recently. Love it. Thank you for putting this together and keeping it going - it encourages my dream of living in France someday. Now - off to research DRC and Burgundy and other village names. Thanks again.
Posted by: Lynn | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 04:14 PM
So much to love here! The feeling of looking behind the curtain to catch a glimpse of the divine (my mouth is working with the imagined tastes) to trying to say all the vocabulary (more mouth work!) and finally my mouth can relax into a huge grin, watching your darling Max. Oh, yes. As the mother of my own heart breaker I can well recognize the blossoming seeds of another. Those dancing eyebrows and that smile can fell females at a hundred paces.:-) Isn't it a mixed emotion to watch our sons grow into men? (...and I love having one of each 'flavor': a son and a daughter!) From all you write and the photos you share, it looks like you are blessed with a wonderful family, Kristin. Health, rewarding work and Love - may your blessings multiply!
Posted by: L. M. Davies | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 04:46 PM
Thanks for the wine information. Even if we can't afford a bottle, maybe we can sneak a grape off the vine as we ride our bikes through the region this summer.
Posted by: Julie F in St. Louis, MO | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 06:20 PM
What nice a nice and fun morning read with my coffee--comments and all! So many birdwalks!
Posted by: Amy | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 06:40 PM
Hi Kristin, Thanks for clearing that up!! ha ha h
Posted by: Karen from Phoenix, AZ | Friday, February 25, 2011 at 10:48 PM
Still dreaming about that Montrachet 2001 - thanks for the link Kris
A presto - mille baci
Stef x
Posted by: Stef Biondi | Saturday, March 05, 2011 at 03:04 PM