I've been thinking a lot about what Alain said the other day. Arnaud was going to play tennis with him in the 13th arrondissement. They like using outdoor courts, because it's been a weirdly mild winter, and because Alain likes to make Arnaud run and sweat (apparently, he gloats a lot about winning, even though he wins every time).
So Arnaud and I went for a walk before their match. My destination was the grocery store, and since Arnaud was on hand, we did some shopping together. Tennis time approached. We finished our circuit of the different aisles and were right at the end, where the store had grouped a small section of remaining bottles from last fall's Foire aux Vins. They had a few Cheval Blancs, a few Haut-Brions, a few Château Latours... As I reached out to fondle something unaffordable, unable to help myself, I heard someone say, "Tiens, tiens..."
It was Alain, visibly suffering from a horrible case of the flu, but still ready to fight Arnaud to the death on the tennis court. And buying a sandwich at the grocery store in preparation.
As we scanned the offerings together, Alain told us about something he'd drunk over the Christmas holidays, a nice Meursault from the mid-1990s, a Bouchard 1er cru or other, "And I enjoyed it, even though I usually don't like white Burgundy at all."
I smiled, turned toward the wood boxes, shaking my head in wonder. How could a person not like white burgundy?
Answers are welcome...
And it seems like Alain beat Arnaud anyway. Not that it matters. Arnaud is an excellent taster of white Burgundy!