Farnoux-Reynaud points out a genuine difference between the two wine producing cultures, however, when he writes, “When a man from Burgundy feels admiration for his wine, he says of it, ‘It’s got love’; and when a man from Bordeaux takes pride in his cuvée, he murmurs simply, ‘It is distinguished.’ By no means would I speak ill of love…but it is not something that lasts…. But distinction, with all due respect, is a result. It is transmitted to you as a consequence of [the labor of] earlier generations and daily discipline.” In the face of such confidence there is nothing to be said, for here one touches upon the very heart of the dispute between Bordeaux and Burgundy. These two positions are difficult to reconcile. One must not even try.Since Pitte is a Burghound, he’s a lover, not a fighter, and he ends on a note of reconciliation and warm fuzzies. He writes that it’s time to “bury the hatchet” and to see these towering wines as “brothers and sisters in a family.” I’m game for that approach. But when he concludes, “Long live Bordeaux and Burgundy!” I can’t help but notice the underlying emotion that bursts forth anytime a French writer puts pen to paper, or fingers to keyboard: Vive la France.