Wine
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Pianist Arthur Rubinstein was fond of telling the story of the wine connoisseur who once invited the composer Johannes Brahms to dinner: “This is the Brahms of my cellar,” said the collector to his guests, filling the master’s glass from a dusty bottle. Brahms looked at the color of the wine, smelled it and finally took a taste. “Hmmm,” he said after putting down the glass. “Better bring your Beethoven.”
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Karl Lagerfeld provoked both boos and cheers for his rustic sketch of Chateau Rauzan-Segla on the 2009 label of the Bordeaux estate, celebrating its 350th anniversary. The wine inside, though, is no dashed-off impression.
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Banker Michael Jordaan is off duty and about to enjoy the fruits of his second job: wine farming.
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Don’t dare call the wines of Franciacorta “spumante,” the semi-sweet bubblies from Asti. And don’t confuse them with Champagne, even though Franciacorta sparklers are made with the same methode champenoise. Nor should you try to trace their history back to the Renaissance, the way those Tuscan wine aristocrats flaunt their pedigrees.
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