They told you to kneel. Not because you had to—but because they knew you would. This wine doesn’t ask. It commands. Bright and bracing from the first slap of citrus—grapefruit skin, raw green almond, crushed herbs. It stings a little. You like that.
Then it tightens. Acid coiling like rope. Texture like silk cuffs: soft, yes, but binding. A hint of bitter botanicals at the edge—Viognier’s perfume tied up and silenced, Chardonnay’s curves flattened into restraint. It holds you there, breathless, on the brink of pleasure and punishment.
You eat only what’s given. Anchovy-stuffed peppers. Grilled artichokes with lemon oil. A barely-dressed salad of raw zucchini and cracked black pepper. You’re not the one in control here—and that’s exactly why you’re shaking when you ask for another glass.
Region: Auvergne, France Grapes: Aligoté, Chardonnay
