This is very hard to admit, but a few days ago I was bitten by a bottle of Bollinger. Bitten. By an old friend. That’s right, after a perfectly admirable sabering attempt. You see, after you decapitate a bottle, the rim is very sharp. I know that. I am usually very careful. But this time,…
Bollinger
You can’t put a price on memories
“I drink it when I’m happy and when I’m sad. Sometimes, I drink it when I’m alone. When I have company I consider it obligatory. I trifle with it if I’m not hungry and drink it if I am; Otherwise I never touch it – unless I’m thirsty.” Madame Bollinger, one of the “grande dames” of French…
Come quickly, I am tasting the stars!
So supposedly said Dom Perignon on realising the wine he had made was a sparkling marvel. It may have well have been my reaction when I first tasted ‘French Champagne’ on my 18th Birthday. It was a Bollinger N.V., given to my mother by a visiting American business man who told her it was for…
