After they had refreshed, Bethia remained quiet as she sat sipping tea with David, Rachel and Maria, who were also deep in thought as they nibbled from the tray. David was the first to speak. "This is delicious ham, Tante. I've not had any as fine. Such a variety. The sausages are all amazing. Are these all produced in this region?"

"They're all made rather close to here," Bethia replied with a big smile. "The smokehouse is out through the kitchen. Some of them I age up in the dry warmth of the attic, others down in the cool moistness of the cellar. I can show you later."

"You make these?" he asked with wide eyes.

"Not as much anymore. We once sold to many of the shops up and down the Wutach, but now I make only enough for the shop out front and for here." She looked down and patted her belly.

"Do you get many Swiss people coming across?"

"They slowed in September, not long after Aaron died. The war made it much more difficult to cross, then stopped when the border closed later in the year. People are just beginning again to visit. It must be hard for some of the shopkeepers who depend on Swiss business."

"So tell me about the slaughter house. I'd like to know more about it for Wednesday. Has it been affected by the war?"

"Yes, it certainly has been. In August we received a large standing order for beef and pork from the Deutsches Heer, the German Army, their Badisches Infanterie-Regiment."

"That sounds very good."

"That was a very difficult time. Aaron had negotiated the contract, brought in new workers, bought a new delivery lorry. He worked himself to death. Three weeks into the contract, his sixty-seven-year-old heart gave out. I had told him he was working too hard. It's been difficult for me running both that business and this... too much for me, that's why I'm trying to sell."

"Your slaughter business is worth more now you're supplying the Army. How long is the contract?"

"The first one was for three months. They renewed for another three in November, and in February we signed for another six months. They seem pleased."

"How much do they purchase?"

"We started with one tonne of beef and two tonnes of pork delivered to Donaueschingen every three days. Simple split carcasses, easy to prepare. Now we're also delivering similar quantities to their kasernen in Lahr and Freiburg. We have to process three tonnes a day just for the Army. It's now half our business, the easy half."

"How many sides are there in a tonne?"

"With beef, it varies between seven and eight, depending on the size of the animal. With pork, about twenty-five per tonne. We do nearly sixty sides a day just for the Army."

"You still have only one delivery truck?"

"No, two. The new one and the old one, but we use the new one only for the Army and keep the old one in case of a breakdown."

"I know Freiburg, and I saw the name Lahr north of there when the train stopped on my way south, but I'm not familiar with Donaueschingen. Sounds like it's in the Danube Valley, how far is it from here?"

"Forty kilometres by road, at the source of the Danube, up a narrow, winding road, thankfully not as crooked as the Sauschwänzlebahn. I've gone twice now to sign new contracts."

"Sauschwänzlebahn. That's the twisting railway with all the bridges and tunnels, isn't it?"

"Yes, an amazing line. Aaron and I travelled across it a few years ago on a trip to Munich. I came back with another gold medal for my Klettgauschinken — this one," she said as she prepared to pop a slice into her mouth. "Have you tried it?"

"I've had several slices; it's one of my favourites. To be fair, though, they are all my favourites."

"You are a true sweetheart, you certainly are." She beamed a proud smile.

"So, your truck is out every day delivering beef and hog sides to the Army. A day to Donaueschingen, a day to Lahr and a day to Freiburg, then repeat."

"No, we do the Freiburg and Lahr deliveries in one trip, a hundred and twenty kilometres to Freiburg and another forty beyond there to Lahr. It's a long day for the driver. The lorry is out two days and in one for any needed repairs or maintenance. Gives the driver a break too, only local deliveries to do."

"I'd like to look at your books, your accounts tomorrow to gain a proper perspective of the businesses. Would you mind?"

"I'd be delighted to show them to you; I'm proud of the ledgers I keep, that was my part of the administration... But enough with business. Let's get back to being family, that's so much more enjoyable for me. Let me make more tea... No, let me bring up some wine from the cellar, that's a better idea. Come, let me show you the curing hams and we can bring up some wine for the evening and for dinner."

She led them through the kitchen, through the doorway in its rear and down five broad stone steps into the large courtyard. Standing in one corner, against the kitchen was a tall, circular brick tower with two inset rectangular iron doors, one above the other. "This is the smoker. The fire is set in here, the wood chips and other aromatics are placed in here if I want them, and ashes are hauled out through that opening in the bottom."

"I don't see a place for the hams and sausages. Where do they go?" David asked, looking around and adding, "From the kitchen?"

"Yes, there are doors in the kitchen, I'll show you that later." She led them across to a set of stone steps descending beside a ramp to a landing in front of a pair of doors under the centre of the house. She keyed the lock and swung one heavy oak door in. "Come in. This is the brining room, and over through that door, is the wine cellar."

She pointed to a small shaft running floor to ceiling, explaining, "This is the elevator I use to move the meats between here and the kitchen. That crank winds it up and down. There's another crank in the kitchen and a third one in the attic. Aaron built this many years ago to his own design."

"I remember Dada scolding Jacob and Nathan for playing on this," Maria said with a vacant stare, her eyes beginning to water. "That's so long ago..."

David put a hand on her shoulder, and she turned to place her head against his chest as she began quietly sobbing. They merged into a hug.

They all stood silent for a long while before Bethia spoke, "Come, help me get the wine, we can look at the ham and sausage operation tomorrow."

She unlocked the cellar door and asked David to push it open, "It's getting a bit heavy for me now."

"This is large," Rachel said as they entered. "I don't remember you making wine."

"We started the year you left for the Kaiserstühl. Aaron thought if you could start a vineyard, so could we. He found a sloping piece of land a short distance north of town, along the border. Across the line from it and along a bit was a vineyard producing wonderful Blauburgunder and Weißburgunder, so that's what we planted."

"How big is the vineyard?"

"Quite small, a little under a half hectare, this was just a hobby for us, we had fun and the wine is good. We decided to make it in the Burgundy style. Last year there were four barrels of each, about 2500 bottles. I sell some upstairs and to two restaurants in town."

She looked around at the twelve barrels. "I need to bottle last year's Weißburgunder and the 1913 Blauburgunder. I need to find someone to replace Franz."

"We can bottle for you, Tante," Rachel said. "Marie and I do ours and we've become rather good. Do the vineyards need work?"

"I'm sure they do. They've been neglected since Franz was taken by the Army last month — nearly two months ago now, that was before Passover. We have a new plot next to it which we planted last spring. I'm sure it needs attention. At least Franz finished with the pruning before he left. We can talk about that later, now we need some wine." She searched among the masonry bins.

"Here, the 1911s, one of each. Careful with the red, David." She handed him the bottle. "Keep this on its side, move it gently; there's a lot of sediment we don't want to disturb."

She handed the other bottle to Maria, and motioning to the door, said, "Let's go back upstairs and enjoy."

Bethia took the red as they arrived in the parlour and placed it in a wicker cradle. "We'll let that rest a while and start with the white. We ferment this in the barrel and stir the lees regularly through the winter," she said as she pulled the cork. "That's one of the tricks we learned on our visit to the Burgundy as we were trying to figure out how to make wine."

She poured four glasses, and Maria passed them around. "These are interesting glasses, Tante," she said. "Much bigger bowls and thinner, more elegant stems than ours."

"These are Burgundy glasses, Dear. They're much more suited to enjoying this style of wine. Hold the stem and swirl the wine in the glass like this, then stick your nose in and inhale gently."

They all followed her instructions and demonstration. Rachel was the first to comment, "This is so like the Meursault and the Montrachet we had a few years ago at a conference in Dijon." She nosed her glass again and took a sip, moved the wine around in her mouth, pulled some air over it through pursed lips. "This is closer to the complexity of the Montrachet."

She looked up at Bethia's beaming face and continued, "This is superb wine."

"I told you it was good."

"Tante Bethia, this is so far beyond good. This is superb wine. Have you entered it in any competitions?"

"We can't, we didn't make enough to qualify."

"I've never had a taste like this," David said, looking back and forth between his glass and Bethia. "Tell me about it. I'm amazed by the smell and the taste."

"You tell me what you smell and taste, Dear."

"I don't know how to describe... so complicated, buttery, rich, like papayas and ripe peaches, like cinnamon and vanilla and deliciousness. I'm astounded with the complexity of aromas and flavours." He swirled the glass again and put his nose back in. "There's a hint of the smell of bread rising mixed with ripe fruits, so many fruits. This is made from only grapes?"

"Yes, Dear. Made from the Weißburgunder, the Burgundians call this grape Chardonnay. Small berries, tightly clustered and our south-facing slope allows them to ripen to a very high Oechsle."

"What's Oechsle?"

"That's the measure of sugar in the juice. The riper the grape, the more sugar, but we also have to watch the acid. As the grapes ripen, the acidity declines. Too little acid and the wine is flaccid and rather lifeless. Good for pissing, not for making love to the palate."

"That's always the thing, isn't it," Rachel said, looking at Bethia. "Finding the exact moment to harvest. Too early gives green, acidic wine; too late gives lacklustre flabby wine. You can correct a bit with added sugar or citric acid, but you end up with an uninteresting, unnatural wine. Wine is nature speaking through the hands and the souls of the winemakers."

"Spoken like a passionate winemaker," Bethia said. "We can do nothing to improve the quality. Once the grapes are picked, all we can do is work to maintain as much of the quality as possible. We cannot make good wine from bad grapes, but it's easily possible to make poor wine from great grapes."

"Is the Blauburgunder superb like this?" Marie asked.

"No, Dear, I think it is much better." Bethia smiled as she looked around at each of the three faces in turn. "It's so good to have family again. It's been so quiet here these last months. What shall we do for dinner?"

"Why don't we continue with these platters?" Rachel said. "We have a small piece of Appenzeller and some Gruyère in the pack that need finishing. Let's enjoy each other and the wine."

"Let me get more bread," Bethia said.

"Stay where you are, Tante." Maria stood. "Tell me where it is and I'll get it. You stay here and open the red, I'm curious to taste that after your comments. Mama and David must also be."

The red had been opened and carefully poured off its sediment when Maria returned with bread and cheese. Bethia handed her a glass, saying, "Alright, now we can begin." She swirled her wine and smiled.

"The French call this grape Pinot Noir, one of the most difficult wines to make. Most often it's good, but it can be magnificent. Once you've had a great Blauburgunder, you'll chase another forever. This is a great one; the growing conditions were near perfect."

The four sat swirling and nosing their glasses, looking up and smiling and going back at it. "This bouquet is nearly orgasmic," Rachel said to finally break the long silence.

David flipped a hand to his trousers, shifted in his seat and said, "This has certainly stirred something in me. The aroma moves me in the same manner as does Maria's bouquet."

Maria looked down at his lap and smiled at the sight of the bulge. "I have tingles down the back of my head, my neck. My nipples have tightened. My God! Tante Bethia, this is beyond superb."

"I've always thought so. That's why we haven't sold any, we kept it all for ourselves. We made only five hundred and sixty bottles. It was a small, concentrated crop that year."

They all took sips from their glasses and tasted. Rachel looked up and around at the others, then stopped at Bethia. "This reminds me of the Chambertin from our Burgundy trip. Incredibly complex with so many layers of flavour. Sensuous and soft on the one hand, so firmly structured on the other. Earthy and fruity and alive."

"I'm so pleased you like it. Last year with some other winemakers, we tasted this with a Clos de Bèze and a Musigny. None of the group could tell which was which."

"What's klo de bez and moosingyee?" Maria asked.

"Clos de Bèze is one of the two finest vineyards in Chambertin, which is one of the greatest wine areas of the Burgundy, and Musigny is as fine or finer. Great Burgundy is one of the finest red wines in the world."

"I thought it had to be something like that," Maria said. "I am speechless to describe this. It's so far beyond my experience."

"We were delighted with its quality. The vines were only six years old when we harvested this, and we knew as it was fermenting that it would be extraordinary. Aaron tried to buy the neighbouring plots to expand the vineyard, but the owners wouldn't sell. We finally had to settle on buying the small plot which abuts it across the border."

"You own a piece of the Swiss border?" David asked, his mind spinning up rapidly.

"Yes, I suppose in a way, we do. The vineyard now runs across the border, 43 ares on this side and 61 in Switzerland. A little over a hectare in total now, all in the same streak of chalky marl."

"Your train trip on the Sauschwänzlebahn. I haven't been able to push that very far back in my mind since you mentioned it. Do you have any maps or drawings of the route?"

"Aaron has a dossier of papers and drawings on it. He was fascinated with the engineering. That was his profession. He shot many photographs of the bridges both coming and going on that trip and on many other trips. I love the spiral tunnel and the upside-down arches on the bridges. Aaron worked..."

"Upside-down arches?"

"Yes, instead of arching up like that," she said, pointing to the arch over the doorway, "they hang down underneath the bridges."

"How close to the railway does your truck go on its delivery?"

"It follows closely for a good distance, crosses under it several times. You seem very interested in the Sauschwänzlebahn."

"I'm just thinking of ways I can help with the war."