All good things must come to an end. So it was at Cibrèo. After an evening of new experiences and fascinating flavors, it was time for dessert. Lisa's a sucker for chocolate; she opted for a generally unremarkable pancake-like wedge of flourless chocolate cake.

I asked the hostess -- who had seen me taking photos and notes and decided I deserved some extra attention -- for a recommendation; she said her favorite dessert was this dried fruit and nut tart. Figs, dates, and prunes float alongside walnuts, almonds, hazelnuts, and pine nuts on a pillow of the gentlest whipped cream I've ever tasted - satiny, scented with vanilla, without any buttery clumps or air pockets. Honey drizzles the plate, smoothing out the unrefined sugars of this earthy closer.

The hostess asked if we wanted any drinks to go with our dessert. "Vin Santo!" I exclaimed, with pride in my knowledge of the local viniculture. The hostess shot me a sideways glance. I didn't know what I'd done wrong exactly, but she was looking at me as if I'd just asked her for a can of Bud Light. "Or... whatever you recommend," I added sheepishly.

She came back with a glass of Muffato della Sala, a Sauternes-style dessert wine from Umbria. It was more delicate and buttery than vin santo, without the sherry notes but with hints of summer fruits.

My understanding is that "muffato" translates roughly to "moldy", a reference to botrytis cinerea, the noble rot that makes dessert wine possible. I love dessert wine, and now thanks to Cibrèo I've discovered a new one. The day after our dinner, I went to an enoteca to pick up a few souvenirs. I got a 1997 Vin Santo del Chianti Classico, and a bottle of 2000 Muffato della Sala. The shop owner gave me a nod as he rang up my purchases. "You know your wine," he said.

"Not really." I told him. But I'm learning.