During my limited childhood stint of attending church, the seeds of a lifelong affection for Harveys Bristol Cream were sown. They served it with the communion and I would rush to the front of the line so as to have the first sip and avoid ‘other peoples spittle’ from the shared chalice. I think the overall ‘ceremonial significance’ was lost on me as I was all about that sip of sherry.
It fills my nose and ignites my taste buds. In one sip the future is endlessly possible and my religion has not been lost.
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