Eleven bottles of wine, their corks pulled, are breathing. On the wall above them hangs a cluster of old photographs, all of a very young man with a very big Gallic mustache. Here, he is examining a cluster of ripe grapes, ready for the vendange, or wine harvest. In another, he is hefting a glass of red wine. He is in thought, deep in a wine cellar, checking his notes on a wine tasting.

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Written by Mary Tutwiler