Christmas lights and bubbles

A lot of people haul out champagne for the holidays; it's like that, it's suggestive. I, however, as someone who guzzles the stuff at every wine bar and restaurant and private residence in the land, rejoicing when a muzzle is offed and a conic cork removed—well, you'd think I would turn a sour eye at all the transient enthusiasm.

Hell, no. Are you, dearest reader, senseless? (I think not, and thank god this is only a rhetorical turn, because you, dearest reader who makes my blog worth continuing, are crazy like a fox.) Far from pooh-poohing the seasonal gold rush, I embrace it with all the more fervor. Everybody else wants to, too! More for all! More deliciousness!

Do it, it's les fêtes! Order another bottle of Lassaigne, of Prévost, of Egly-Ouriet, of Tarlant, holy crow. Get out the Bérèche, the Boulard, the Françoise Bedel, that crazy Vouette et Sorbée fizz. Remember your stash of Veuve Fourny, some stockpiled Gaston Chiquet or that vintage Jean Milan. Crack the new year open with Chartogne-Taillet or Diebolt-Vallois. Decide you don't have to afford to replace Selosse, 'cause it tastes so good now.

In that spirit, and in the spirit of my calamitous blog sparseness, which I intend to correct with the new year, I am currently enjoying a brand new site by the Boston-based champagnophile Peter Czyryca, Recent Disgorgements.

I would also love to hear, in my pruriently curious way, what anyone traipsing through this post might have in mind to drink, champagne-wise, for the night that turns this year into 2011.