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Meg Maker explores the second sense in wine — texture.
For a few days last week, a rhinovirus gripped my system. My normally prismatic sensorium went dark. Flavours were reduced to the basics: salty, sweet, bitter, sour, savory. My morning tea was hot, astringent, wet but curiously drying. A segment of orange was cold and juicy, sweet and sour. Cheese seemed sticky, fatty, salty. Bread was spong...
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