Drunk from disposable plastic cups on a cold beach, with the sun in our eyes. We shucked the oysters sitting on a log on the beach, facing Tomales Bay. They were meaty and saline, tasting more of the east coast than the west, with none of the cucumber sweetness we associate with the Pacific. Muscadet is getting riper, fruit becoming more and more of a presence in this pairing, softening the salt and mineral and steel. I miss the spareness, the sense of this being a magic born of cold wind and dark water.
The domaine is under new ownership, Michel having retired and sold to one F. Lallier. The wines are the same, for now.
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