88 Salon, Brut Blanc de Blancs Le Mesnil
This would only taste better if my tongue were made of cheesecake. I grew up down the street from Affy Tapple, Chicago's famous taffy apple factory. If you came in some afternoons, you could buy a caramel-covered apple for a quarter if its stick broke or splintered on the line. While the discount never made up for the dental bills 15 years later, it felt good to afford such a perfect treat--juicy green apples (because the broken sticks were always made, for whatever reason, with underripe green apples instead of the Red Deliciouses they sold in stores), fresh pale caramel, and chopped peanuts--with change I found on the street. There I return with 88 Salon. After a few minutes, this is nearly still wine with Chablisienne acidity and only a bubble or two ascending every few seconds. It hasn't even begun to cream out yet, though it's picked up an off-dry sherry essence with long secondary flavors of brown butter and pecans, demanding diver scallops encrusted with truffles. Now for the cheesecake.