Consider this whole entry as parenthetical.
I have more to say about my travels last month, and I want to fill you in on the day spent at Becky Wasserman's tasting the 1996 Burgundy vintage, but right now I am working on the Burgundy chapter.
After a frustrating day of my words duking it out with my thoughts, I discovered this in my notes and had yet another conundrum.
The naked, late afternoon January soils stretched out, hiding nothing. The eyes of Aubert de Villaine, managing director of the world’s most famous Burgundy house, Domaine Romane Conti, caressed the view. Then he carefully said, “This vineyard has talent. It needs room to express itself.” He was commenting on La Tche, DRC’s pet monopole. He talked of La Tche as if it were a gifted child heading off to composition class. He continued, “And, what is even more remarkable is that someone discovered it. Now, where is the beauty in the land? It is not definable. It is either terroir or it is not. You can deny God if you wish, but you cannot deny that the sun rises.”
The graph that follows must comment on his feeling, it must provide some sort of link to my next thought. But how? How can I segue? I've never heard such a profound expression of belief in terroir. Commenting on it seems insipid. But such are the rules of writing in modern publishing. I could see putting down a sketch, a water color or the seeds of a purple Cherokee tomato, but words seem weak.