Stuart Little
New Member
Food & Wine magazine (in our building) we in need of a Star Letter, so myself and Chrith threw this little beauty together, hoping to secure ourselves half a dozen bottles o' plonk.
Sadly we were too late, and we're only getting one measly bottle for effort.
Since it would be a shame to waste this little gem I've decided to post it up here.
It is fictional, but in a strange kinda way, I think of Chrith as being the wife in the story.
You don't have to read it...
[color=006699]
In august of last year my wife & myself were fortunate enough to have 3 months at our disposal to spend in a tiny village not far from Provence. Simply put, it was the most glorious, idyllic quarter of the earth I have ever come across.
My brother-in-law, ever generous, had offered us the keys to his holiday home and despite our initial reluctance to accept we finally relented and how glad we are that we did!
Almost 12 long, hazy weeks were spent basking in the sun by day and visiting (and re-visiting) the beautiful local restaurants by night. Towards the end of our sojourn we began cooking for ourselves in the evenings, inspired by the local ingredients, the quality of which would put most irish greengrocers & shopkeepers to shame.
On one of our shopping trips we came across an unmarked little spot, just outside the village that specialised in the local wines, and upon the advice of the good shopkeep purchased what resulted in being the best wine either myself or my wife have ever tasted, rich & full bodied while still being well balanced, and with great concentration of fruit.
Upon our departure we resolved to bring several bottles of said wine with us, concealed in our luggage, and so we did.
It had been our intention to keep these bottles for truly special occasions, and as something to look forward to, however it is now a mere seven months since we returned from that incredible holiday and sadly, to mark Valentine's day the last bottle's days are numbered.
Apart from the one bottle my wife won't find out about till her birthday in June.
Yours Sincerely,
Martin Finnucane[/color]
Sadly we were too late, and we're only getting one measly bottle for effort.
Since it would be a shame to waste this little gem I've decided to post it up here.
It is fictional, but in a strange kinda way, I think of Chrith as being the wife in the story.
You don't have to read it...
[color=006699]
In august of last year my wife & myself were fortunate enough to have 3 months at our disposal to spend in a tiny village not far from Provence. Simply put, it was the most glorious, idyllic quarter of the earth I have ever come across.
My brother-in-law, ever generous, had offered us the keys to his holiday home and despite our initial reluctance to accept we finally relented and how glad we are that we did!
Almost 12 long, hazy weeks were spent basking in the sun by day and visiting (and re-visiting) the beautiful local restaurants by night. Towards the end of our sojourn we began cooking for ourselves in the evenings, inspired by the local ingredients, the quality of which would put most irish greengrocers & shopkeepers to shame.
On one of our shopping trips we came across an unmarked little spot, just outside the village that specialised in the local wines, and upon the advice of the good shopkeep purchased what resulted in being the best wine either myself or my wife have ever tasted, rich & full bodied while still being well balanced, and with great concentration of fruit.
Upon our departure we resolved to bring several bottles of said wine with us, concealed in our luggage, and so we did.
It had been our intention to keep these bottles for truly special occasions, and as something to look forward to, however it is now a mere seven months since we returned from that incredible holiday and sadly, to mark Valentine's day the last bottle's days are numbered.
Apart from the one bottle my wife won't find out about till her birthday in June.
Yours Sincerely,
Martin Finnucane[/color]
