You pop the bottle, and it hisses—soft, teasing, like a whispered secret just for you. But you’re not alone. No, this one likes to be watched. The bubbles rise, frantic, electric, rushing to meet the surface like a shiver running down your spine. You bring the glass to your lips, knowing full well that every move, every reaction, is on display.
The first sip is pure temptation—yellow muscat bursting with jasmine and orange blossom, bright and floral, wrapping itself around you like warm breath against your neck. Then comes the tension, a streak of acidity sharp enough to make you gasp, followed by something deeper, something rounder. Ripe pear, a touch of honey, a flicker of something herbal—each layer unfolding slow, deliberate, measured.
And the finish? Long, lingering, with a mineral kiss that stays long after the last sip, taunting, reminding. You can feel the eyes on you. And you don’t mind one bit.
