Truth be known, I've been rather a busy tramp of late. Tastings and ponse go-lóir! To add to this my favourite grape is an obscure little gal by the name of Cabernet Franc. Now in Ireland she's a rather expensive and a hard to find doll. In effect everything against the idea of Empty really, but of late something has changed. Not seeing Cab Franc in a while, I don't know, it's left an encroaching loneliness, something that another grape is swooping in a filling. Who is this mystery tart? What hoor is it that tries to whisk me away with its robes bitter-sweet with the smell of fresh tobacco as she enters the room? Tempranillo.
