A Fine Wine by Brennan Frank

A Fine Wine by Brennan Frank

Daniel Appleby rarely used to describe wines such words as: extraordinary, beautiful or wonderful. Now he is just examining a glass, inhaling the smell of the wine. A silent, nervous man is sitting next to him and waiting for his decision. His fate depends of it. If Daniel likes it, this wine will be sold by the largest supermarket chain in the city. It will be sold literally on every corner and it will be a very big success. The owner of the vineyard has been making wine all his life and earning on the sale. This vineyard is small, but it is one of the oldest in France. If the vine goes on sale – the family business will be saved. Daniel does not hurry anywhere. He tries to evaluate the smell and color, before sipping from this glass. He is the chief taster and the fate of every winemaker who wants to sell wine depends on his words.

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A Fine Wine by Brennan Frank

‘Extraordinary! Quite, quite extraordinary!’

Daniel Appleby did not often use such words to describe the wines he tasted. The other man in the room was waiting to see if he liked this one or not. His future depended on what Daniel Appleby said – if he liked the wine it would be bought by one of the biggest supermarkets around. It would be sold everywhere. The man who owned the vineyard looked on nervously. His vineyard was small, but it was one of the oldest in the Bordeaux region of France. If he sold his wine, the business that had been in his family for over two hundred years would be saved.

Daniel Appleby held the glass to his nose and smelled the wine again. He lifted the glass up to the light from the window to see its colour better. He was the Chief Wine Taster for Happimart Supermarkets. If he liked a wine, then everybody bought it. If he didn’t like a wine, nobody did. His word was like the judgement of God.

‘You say you have been making this wine for the last two hundred years?’ he asked the other man, Monsieur Colbert, a proud-looking man of over seventy years of age, whose hair was still as black as it had been when he was twenty.

A Fine Wine by Brennan Frank

‘I am old but I am not that old, sir,’ Monsieur Colbert said with a little smile. ‘But my family has been making this wine since the time of Napoleon Bonaparte. If I may say so, this is the only vineyard in all of France to produce wine in this way. It is my secret.’

Monsieur Colbert was hoping that his little joke might relax things a little.

Daniel Appleby took his profession very seriously. He was the best. He never, ever joked when he tasted wine. He might joke about other wine tasters at other times – in fact, he often did. But he never joked during a wine tasting. It was too important. He was too important. He held the glass up to the light once more and looked at the deep red colour before finally putting the glass onto the table in front of him. He had made up his mind.

‘Monsieur Colbert,’ he said, as he placed his thumbs into the pockets of the red jacket he wore, the one that matched his tie so well. ‘You are to be congratulated: this is an exceptionally fine wine with a strong bouquet and a rich fruity flavour with suggestions of blackcurrant; a wine to go well with any game or red meat, or to be enjoyed on its own for its excellent and strong personality…’

Monsieur Colbert smiled with delight. This was just what he had hoped to hear…

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