Wine enters us because we drink it,but we are the ones who have to enter it to understand it,to listen to the love song of the earth to heaven. I do not drink for vice but for whim.I do not drink for thirst: for that I use water. I love wine that scratches, not wine that smiles. The generous wine, not the cheap one,Messalina wine, not Beatrice wine. They say: alcohol kills slowly. I don't give a damn, I'm not in a hurry! I prefer Cabernet to the Internet. I will never join the crusade of sommeliers, know-it-all, analysts, autopsy experts. To the pleasure of knowledge I put the knowledge of pleasure first. I am more impregnated than committed, more Bacchus than mouth, more raisin than passé, more berry than acid, more warm than firm, more rice than satin,more nose than vase, more throat than gala,more feast than head,more handsome than bully.Put simply, of course. Wine is the intellectual part of the meal. Life is too short to drink mediocre wines. Wine is the enemy of man: he who flees before the enemy is a coward. Marriage comes from love, like vinegar from wine. Wine is the poetry of the earth. The dialogue with wine stops at the third glass. Wine goes from the mouth to the heart. Eating well means drinking well, fully respecting the balance in the frequency, rotation and pairing of food and wine. Attentive to the glass, ready to grasp its most intimate suggestions, you love good wine, eager to be enjoyed, kiss it, listen to its soul, lose yourself in it. The drinker makes the person who had drunk before him fall in love with him. For wine to be good for women, it is necessary for men to drink it.
Raphael Alberti
