this wine tells the tale of a warm and fragrant summer day in June of 1357.  With the first sip, a braying ass can be seen haughtily following the deep crimson-purple robes of Innocent VI on his trek back home to the Palais des Papes in Avignon.  Innocent has been on a rather lengthy pilgrimage to visit a favored actress in Corsica. Her name is Bianca, and she now sends him staggering on his weary way with dark, wine bruised lips, party eyes and a blood rose prominently affixed to his zucchetto. Ah, sweet young Bianca! Balanced with luscious ripeness, her four-poster of aromatic cedar from the slopes of Monte Padro, and wrapped around her enchanted body, a glamorous infusion of smoldering bergamot and the dried white flowers of black-rooted Moly. Can you read those pouting lips? They are full and smolder with seductive coco nibs, cherry & a clean woodsy odor from the twig of pinu neru she smilingly chews as she watches the arrogant ass japing and braying down the dusty path, bright silken ribbons dangling and bouncing from his waggling ears.