There’s something deliciously sweet about the juice of a tempranillo grape running down your chin at 10am. Syrupy, sunny and unctuous, it was the best breakfast I have ever had.
We were supposed to be harvesting grapes from the vines with our clippers on this, the last day of Campo Viejo’s 2015 harvest on October 8, but I was not alone in stuffing as many as I could get into my gob. After...
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