The wand signaled the music to come down from Olympus. In the imperial lodge, next to the elegance of the tailcoat, someone else arrived. He ran with distinction in the crystal cup where he felt his will and threw his golden green eyes around. The orchestra stopped. He let the harsh and tender aromas of the Moldavian vineyard drip on the strings of the violins. And the music sounds different since then.

Frâncușa, the stage name of the ancient Țârțără variety, affirms its ability to give birth to valuable sparkling wines.