Sing, O Muse, of limestone. Chalky, friable, pale as morning fog. Birthplace of great profundity, site of royal lineage (see Romanee-Conti, Sancerre and Mesnil). Humble rock transmuted into potions of absurd dimension.
The Scene: Leon Beyer, Sr., working the land his ancestors worked before him, joins his friends, themselves also philosopher-kings (it is France, after all) around a simple but tasteful rustic wooden table. They drink a Grand Cru riesling from his Pfersigsberg vineyard. The bottle slowly works its way towards emptiness. These men appreciate its spiralling scent of pear brandy and broken rock. They admire its marathon length, notes of dusty oyster shell and taste of just-right green apple. It's aging magnificently. They sigh blissfully. Leon announces to the meditative crowd, "I was think of calling it 'The Oyster-Shuckers'." The men cringe but give it the thumbs-up.
White wine of the month for May 2007.
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