"Notes of Ripe Figs and Port Wine, with a Chocolatey Finish"

So the new variety of coffee that I have drunk this morning is described on its label, and, I must admit, I can't think how else you could describe it--It's scrumptiousness is nothing less than musical, with a velvety richness and fruitiness just like figs and port and chocolate. And so, all nature and ¡Tunes conspire: First, at first light, on our morning's program was K. 526, a violin sonata in A Major, well deserving of its place in the catalog between 'Eine Kleine Nachtmusik' (K. 525) and Don Giovanni (K. 527); I found the score online immediately and read along with it--always so profitable a practice with those late Koechel numbers. And then, as Phoebus' radiant Harbinger empurpl'd th'eastern Or'zon, prompted by I know not what happy impulse, I tuned in the opera station--and, with the rising sun, as I blog, I'm listening to the 'famous' Hasse's Cleofide, just as it was done in the good old bad old days at Sans Souci. Let us pause here to note that--gravamens and acrimonious charges that have-we to bear against the Barb'rous Modern Age--the late flourishing of Original Instruments and Authentic Performance Practices leaves almost nothing to be desired in the miraculous re-creation of the very most delectable music of that most delectably musical century...Dr. Burney himself could have found nothing to fault in the wonders of this spookily and spiritedly miraculous resurrection of music until quite recently thought--and often flatly pronounced--dead as a dodo.