Nobody knows what they’re doing the first time. That’s half the fun. You think you’re prepared, you’ve read up on it, maybe even gotten some questionable advice from a friend who claims to be an expert. But nothing prepares you for the real thing.
You take a sip and—oh, okay, so THAT’S what all the hype is about. It starts soft, golden, easy—like a knowing smile across the room. But then, just as you’re settling in, things shift. A flash of acidity, a jolt that zips through your body like a misplaced hand in the dark. There’s a slight tension, a mineral grip that pulls you in.
You don’t fully understand what’s happening, but you like it. You surrender to it. You stop thinking.
By the time the glass is empty, you’re giddy, breathless, ready for round two. You didn’t expect it to be this good. But damn, now you’re hooked.
Pairs well with buttery seafood, a cheese plate you pretend to share, and the dawning realization that you’ve been missing out.