I am with Hillary, Obama, and a co-worker of mine in the countryside somewhere in the Bay Area. Everybody is smiling and in a good mood: my co-worker had brought a 1972 Zinfandel from a local winery that she wants us to taste. In the glass, the wine has a beautiful light red color and a mild perfume of violets and raspberry. On the palate, it has a soft, velvety texture —almost like an old Burgundy — but with a distinctive Zinfandel character. We are all blown away by how good the wine is and decide to pay a visit to the winery, which happens to be close by.
I wake up. I guess I'd been browsing the web too much the night before!
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