Ruinart

Do you want to take the ride? And they were like, "You make the decision now or, uh, we're gonna put Blake Shinn on." And I was just having, it was Saturday night.

I was having my second glass of Ruinart at Bellota.

I'm like, "Come on, boys.

Give me, give me the morning, please."

We were, we were highlighting a, a, a, a practically unknown Champagne.

It's called Champagne Ruinart, Dom Ruinart, who was a, a fellow monk with Dom Perignon back in the day.

Um, the wine is fabulous.

The dinner was at a really nice restaurant in Denver.

I was therefore particularly glad to get my wife out of the dingy cavern into the strong, pure air on deck.

By supper-time she had altogether recovered health and spirits, and all of us drank to the day, the country, and the voyage in fizzing glasses of Ruinart Brut.

I dare say that it is but seldom that this wine is drunk under these conditions, nor can I say that warm champagne (the ice has vanished) is as pleasing a tipple as when it issues forth half congealed from the mouth of the bottle.

We make an agreeable company at meals, entirely free, as may be well imagined, from shore-going formalities.

The sun was very hot, and a canvas awning was stretched across the poop, making the latter a very comfortable place for dreaming or reading in one of the large comfortable wicker chairs.

We fanned along all day over an almost motionless sea, making only seventy miles in the twenty-four hours.

Opened a bottle of Ruinart, as is our custom on Sundays, and a discussion arose concerning the buoyancy of a champagne bottle, the skipper and mate maintaining that it would float while I adhered to the belief that it would not only sink, but sink quickly.

So I hove one overboard, and down it went.

I was therefore particularly glad to get my wife out of the dingy cavern into the strong, pure air on deck.

By supper-time she had altogether recovered health and spirits, and all of us drank to the day, the country, and the voyage in fizzing glasses of Ruinart Brut.

I dare say that it is but seldom that this wine is drunk under these conditions, nor can I say that warm champagne, the ice has vanished, is as pleasing a tipple as when it issues forth half congealed from the mouth of the bottle.

We make an agreeable company at meals, entirely free, as may be well imagined, from shore-going formalities.

The sun was very hot, and a canvas awning was stretched across the poop, making the latter a very comfortable place for dreaming or reading in one of the large, comfortable wicker chairs.

We fanned along all day over an almost motionless sea, making only seventy miles in the twenty-four hours.

Opened a bottle of Ruinart, as is our custom on Sundays, and a discussion arose concerning the buoyancy of a champagne bottle, the skipper and mate maintaining that it would float, while I adhered to the belief that it would not only sink, but sink quickly.

So I hove one overboard, and down it went.

Mm-hmm

... uh, working on brands like Dom Pérignon, Veuve Clicquot, Ruinart, Moët & Chandon, Belvedere Vodka, Hennessy Cognac, and later adding a, a stint at Jay-Z's Ace of Spades-

Yep

...

I was, therefore, particularly glad to get my wife out of the dingy cavern into the strong pure air on deck.

By suppertime she had altogether recovered health and spirits, and all of us drank to the day, the country, and the voyage in fizzing glasses of Ruinart Brut.

I dare say that it is but seldom that this wine is drunk under these conditions, nor can I say that warm champagne, the ice has vanished, is as pleasing a tipple as when it issues forth half congealed from the mouth of the bottle.

We make an agreeable company at meals, entirely free, as may be well imagined, from shore-going formalities.

The sun was very hot and a canvas awning was stretched across the poop, making the latter a very comfortable place for dreaming or reading in one of the large comfortable wicker chairs.

We fanned along all day over an almost motionless sea, making only 70 miles in the 24 hours.

Opened a bottle of Ruinart, as is our custom on Sundays, and a discussion arose concerning the buoyancy of a champagne bottle, the skipper and mate maintaining that it would float while I adhered to the belief that it would not only sink but sink quickly.

So I hove one overboard and down it went.

I was therefore particularly glad to get my wife out of the dingy cavern into the strong pure air on deck.

By suppertime, she had altogether recovered health and spirits, and all of us drank to the day, the country, and the voyage in fizzing glasses of Ruinart Brut.

I dare say that it is but seldom that this wine is drunk under these conditions, nor can I say that warm champagne, the ice has vanished, is as pleasing a tipple as when it issues forth half congealed from the mouth of the bottle.

We make an agreeable company at meals, entirely free, as may be well imagined, from shore-going formalities.

The sun was very hot and a canvas awning was stretched across the poop, making the latter a very comfortable place for dreaming or reading in one of the large comfortable wicker chairs.

We fanned along all day over an almost motionless sea, making only 70 miles in the 24 hours.

Opened a bottle of Ruinart, as is our custom on Sundays, and a discussion arose concerning the buoyancy of a champagne bottle, the skipper and mate maintaining that it would float while I adhered to the belief that it would not only sink but sink quickly.

So I hove one overboard and down it went.

I was therefore particularly glad to get my wife out of the dingy cavern into the strong pure air on deck.

By suppertime she had altogether recovered health and spirits, and all of us drank to the day, the country, and the voyage in fizzing glasses of Ruinart Brut.

I dare say that it is but seldom that this wine is drunk under these conditions, nor can I say that warm champagne, the ice has vanished, is as pleasing a tipple as when it issues forth half congealed from the mouth of the bottle.

We make an agreeable company at meals, entirely free, as may be well imagined, from shore-going formalities.

The sun was very hot, and a canvas awning was stretched across the poop, making the latter a very comfortable place for dreaming or reading in one of the large comfortable wicker chairs.

We fanned along all day over an almost motionless sea, making only 70 miles in the 24 hours.

Opened a bottle of Ruinart, as is our custom on Sundays, and a discussion arose concerning the buoyancy of a champagne bottle, the skipper and mate maintaining that it would float while I adhered to the belief that it would not only sink, but sink quickly.

So I hove one overboard, and down it went.