This week, as it's the official start of the grouse fiddling season, I present six of the best wines to perfectly compliment your game birds. Enjoy...
A tantalising little wine that catches the eye and brings with it the promise of fun and excitement. Pour it gently and find delight in the way it giggles and frolics as it tumbles into the glass. Thrill to its zesty, clean, crisp aromas. Ah ha! It sends a shiver down my spine. Sip it gently, tenderly. Roll those delicate youthful flavours around your mouth. Let it taunt you, tease you with its playful, almost bashful charm. Then, when you're ready, drink deeply and lose yourself in its smooth embrace.
Firm, round, strong. This is a healthy, pert vintage with good teeth and a strong appetite for life. A confident wine that knows its own strengths and weakness, and isn't afraid to present itself to the world in all its naked glory. It will play games with you, try to deceive, but there's no escaping the truth. This is a wine that wants you; it wants you real bad. Give in to your deepest urges. Quaff deep and let it take control of your taste buds. Let go of your inhibitions and trust in its lusty, experienced aromas. I promise you won't regret it.
To sample this dirty little minx is to taste the very essence of decadence. Dark, spicy, throaty and just a little bit dangerous. Let yourself sink into a whirlpool of hedonistic abandon. Oh, it's a wanton little slut and no mistake. Full bodied and bursting at the seams, take advantage of its lithe, sinewy pleasures while you can. Treat it rough, treat it mean, and this filthy tart is guaranteed to do the business. Can there really be this much pleasure in the world? Oh yeah. Just make sure you keep your hand on your wallet.
This prick-teasing harlot of a wine will not surrender her flavour willingly. It flirts with your tongue, offers you just a sniff of pleasure and then steals it all away. Don't be fooled. Fill your cup to the very brim and take it all down in one gulp. Pretty soon, this evil brew will be falling over itself to give you everything its got - again, and again, and again in a bacchanalian frenzy of sensation. And when you think you can bear it no more, when you think you have tasted every nuance, every intricate strand of flavour, this smooth, experienced little whore tenses itself up like a coiled spring, arches its back and delivers one more shuddering wave of pure, unadulterated ecstasy. Oh god! Oh god, yes! Oh my god! Oh god!
A sharp, dry little wine to clear the palate. Like a guilty walk home on a frosty Sunday morning, it has the distinct flavour of shame and regret. Oh, you can act like nothing happened. You can hide the lipstick marks on your collar, but where will it get you? No matter what kind of false trail you try to lay, it won't make one iota of difference. She'll know. She'll smell her on you. She will see it in your eyes. Oh yes, your wife's gonna kill you.
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