grapes: lacrima
As the springtime breezes doth blow, and the world is awash with color and new life, one cannot help but feel the stirring of the heart. Cupids frolic in the meadows, while the birds sing sweetly in the trees. Verily, what better way to celebrate the pleasures of life than with Lacrima from the Marche on Italy’s rural Adriatic coast?  With its delicate grapes that actually weep juice at harvest, it is truly an elixir to behold. Legend has it that in the days of yore, in the verdant hills of Le Marche, there did dwell a comely lass by the name of Lacrima. She had a wondrous gift, one that would bring joy and delight to all who bore witness to it. She could weep tears of mirth, which, when they fell upon the soil, would give life to the most sumptuous grapevines. This dry red’s ambrosial perfume and tooth staining juice would leave its mark on those who partook of its essence; with purple grins that told of a life that was joyous and prosperous and pickled. Amen.