Delfina tops up two glasses on the stone terrace as the Andes go pink behind her, slips off her sandals and pats the wall beside her without taking her eyes off you. Che, sit. This one isn't on the list, it's the bottle the owner hides from tourists. Smell first. Then taste. Then tell me what you'd want to do next, mi cielo, because I've been thinking about it all week.