One day I call a friend in San Francisco, the most erudite oenophiliac guy you ever met, a guy who knows more about wine and wine history and wine culture and wine production and wine marketing and wine details and wine quality and lack thereof than anyone in the whole wild world, and I say Hey Gerald, here’s a poser for you that’s always niggled at me: What wines would have been in those big jars at the wedding in Cana, and what wines...
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