We were meant to be polishing the chalices. You found the one already filled, set aside for the next morning’s Mass, and without speaking, you lifted it to my lips.
The wine was cloudy gold in the candlelight, the smell thick with orange blossom, quince, and honey. My throat worked before my mind caught up. You watched me swallow.
I passed it back. Your mouth met the same place mine had touched, and you didn’t wipe it away. Gewürztraminer spice, soft tannin, a flicker of acidity — it wasn’t just the wine making my hands shake.
We sat on the steps to the altar, close enough that our shoulders brushed, passing the chalice between us like a secret we didn’t know how to keep. The saints looked down. The building held its breath.
A door slammed somewhere deep in the rectory, but we didn’t move. You leaned in. Just enough. And I knew.
Later, I’d tell myself it was just wine. But the truth is, it was the first time I’d tasted you.
Pair with saffron chicken, roasted quince, or anything you’ll remember for the rest of your life because of who you shared it with.
Region: Alsace, France Grapes: Gewürztraminer, Pinot Gris, Auxerrois
