I couldn't help thinking of Albert Finney in the movie Tom Jones as I tore into a grilled squab with my bare hands, savoring the juicy, deliciously gamy meat in between mouthfuls of Petite Sirah. All that was missing was a wench across the table and a Great Dane at my feet.
For the full article, check out the new issue of Wine Spectator, on newsstands November 15, 2001.
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