She pours a Le Roitelet fechy from La Cote. "When chasselas is grown in light, sandy soil like this one," she explains, "it produces very light wine, fragrant, to drink young." The fechy is fresh, sharp, faintly sparkling, and refreshing. Of the Coup de l'Étrier epesses, she says "Clay soil. You can taste it." (I taste dripping-ripe grapes and a faintly tinny but not at all unpleasant backbite.) The Roche Ronde st-saphorin is wonderfully dry and crisp, with a hint of that gasoline character that sometimes informs good German rieslings. "The mineral character," Broggi assures me, "is limestone." She picks up a hunk of limestone, rubs it on her hand, presses her hand to her face, and inhales deeply. Meanwhile, I am cheating a bit, moving ahead to a 1992 L'Arbalete dezaley, which has a good, clean, direct flavor, but seems simpler and lighter than I had expected. "It will develop more," Broggi assures me. "You should taste it again in four or five years." "Save me a bottle," I reply.