The food was delicious, too. There was turkey with a fennel and sausage stuffing. Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes—the whole nine yards. All the guests contributed a dish or two. My brother-in-law invited cousins from New Jersey, who brought a tofu marsala (which was so good Santa Maria asked for seconds).
The thing that was on my mind, besides being grateful for all our good fortune as Americans, was the Spanish wines. How would they taste? How would they go over?
A number of other bottles were opened during the evening. One was a 2007 Bordeaux, which proved to be much more popular around the table than the Rioja. I poured the wines. I know. Everyone asked for the French wine over the Spanish. Of course, I chose the Rioja, and I loved it. It was full bodied with hints of licorice. Nice.
The Temps de Flors, the white, was a resounding success. It was crisp and refreshing. My sister loved it, and said that it really tasted like flowers. Funny, I said because it is named for an annual festival that fills the streets of Girona, a city outside of Barcelona, with elaborate floral displays. Perfect.