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WITH HER EYES CLOSED, Dahlia swirled a golden wine in her crystal glass, pausing to inhale the magnificent bouquet of Château d’Yquem. “This is a legendary nectar of the gods,” she said, reverently touching her glass to those of Penelope and Lawrence. The afternoon sun illuminated their glasses, which sparkled like fiery canary diamonds in the golden rays.
The trio had finished lunch on the outdoor terrace at Coté Jardin café at the Hôtel de Paris, where they were now sharing the wine with a customary cheese platter.
Dahlia sipped the old vintage sauterne, discerning its silky nuances on her palate. “Apricot, cinnamon, a touch of saffron. Château d’Yquem is one of my favorite wines, and this vintage is spectacular. Thank you, Lawrence.”
She also knew a wine of this caliber sold well
