Here in France, there is a buzz in the air as the 14th of July nears. No, it is not just the cigales chirping away to their hearts’ delight in the hot Provençal sun. The days before France’s fête nationale see a surging energy: school is out, the summer temperatures have reached a euphoric high, and sleepy villages throughout the land are gradually colonized by the trucks and stands responsible for the fête foraine, or town fair.
     As night falls on the Quatorze (or Bastille Day, as it is known outside of France), the streets begin to fill with people. The sound of live music permeates the air as partygoers let loose on arcade games, bumper cars, and stalls selling croque-monsieurs and steaming Nutella crêpes. And then, fireworks.
     This year on the Quatorze, I can be found not at the fête foraine, but celebrating in the comfort of my own home, likely sipping a glass of crémant as I watch the fireworks crescendo into the bouquet, as is called the dramatic finale. I hope you join me in toasting to the nation that gave us crêpes, foie gras, Zidane, the Enlightenment, impressionism, the ménage à trois, pasteurization, and the hot air balloon. Oh, and let us not forget fine wine. We can raise a glass to that, too.