…that made my evening complete yesterday: a Châteauneuf-du-Pape, Château de Beaucastel 2004, a dark, powerful, convincing wine that helped me survive the endless broadcasts from olympic Vancouver. Wine Critics talk about a nose of ripe cherries or red berries, about wild herbs and you name it, they say this wine was fleshy yet fresh “in the mouth”, tasting like tobacco, vanilla, containing “new world flavours” and you know what? I have no idea what they’re talking about. There’s not a name for everything. And there’s no words for wines like this. You weigh the bottle in your hands. You open them. You drink. You shine, silently.