KIBIC DRY WHITE WINE
THE STORY OF KIBIC
Nothing ever escaped its glass eye. It looked on, down the street, watching weddings and parties go by, and sorrows and wars, white winters and muddy autumns, lean years and abundant harvests bending the carts with opulence, the newly born and those who, resting their backs against a wall, warmed up their old age in the sun. Right there, in front of it, quarrels between neighbours flared up and new loves were born. People loved, hated, feared, laughed, suffered and rejoiced, doubted, worried. It watched all of it and remembered everything, no matter whether it was double-glazed, oozing prosperity, or small and squinting, a pauper’s. It was all the same to it whether its eyelashes were lace curtains or a plain, faded rag. It cared not whether it was supported by a brick wall or rammed earth. It was only important that it was oriented onto the road, the one running through villages and towns like a vein ticking with the pulse of life, persistently and doggedly, like its watching, its kibitzing. Kibitzing of a “kibitz fenster”, a kibitzing window. And still, it liked most of all when a maiden would prop herself up on her elbows there, pouring her longing through it.
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Breezy at first sight and of sparkly yellow colour with a greenish tint, Kibic brings a fascinating fragrance of small white flowers, of elderberry, lychee, lime, and grapefruit.
It is a perfect aperitif, or a vine to serve a good company on a summer day, but it also will be perfect with fresh salads, light pastas or appetizers (hors-d’oeuvre).
Serve in white-wine glass at 7-9ºC.
THE STORY OF KIBIC
Nothing ever escaped its glass eye. It looked on, down the street, watching weddings and parties go by, and sorrows and wars, white winters and muddy autumns, lean years and abundant harvests bending the carts with opulence, the newly born and those who, resting their backs against a wall, warmed up their old age in the sun. Right there, in front of it, quarrels between neighbours flared up and new loves were born. People loved, hated, feared, laughed, suffered and rejoiced, doubted, worried. It watched all of it and remembered everything, no matter whether it was double-glazed, oozing prosperity, or small and squinting, a pauper’s. It was all the same to it whether its eyelashes were lace curtains or a plain, faded rag. It cared not whether it was supported by a brick wall or rammed earth. It was only important that it was oriented onto the road, the one running through villages and towns like a vein ticking with the pulse of life, persistently and doggedly, like its watching, its kibitzing. Kibitzing of a “kibitz fenster”, a kibitzing window. And still, it liked most of all when a maiden would prop herself up on her elbows there, pouring her longing through it.
See moreBreezy at first sight and of sparkly yellow colour with a greenish tint, Kibic brings a fascinating fragrance of small white flowers, of elderberry, lychee, lime, and grapefruit.
It is a perfect aperitif, or a vine to serve a good company on a summer day, but it also will be perfect with fresh salads, light pastas or appetizers (hors-d’oeuvre).
Serve in white-wine glass at 7-9ºC.
