Our eyes danced across an old writing bureau, the shine from its green leather-topped desk being casually absorbed by the woodwork's patina. On the nose, lime zest was woven into honeydew melon, joined by a puff of sherbet and the arrival of polished antique furniture. The palate was intense, full of waxy apples and pears, creamed coconut, quince paste and spiced witbier. A trickle of water pulled forward lime pastilles and elderflower as we walked into a botanical garden's hothouse. It is here we write our best stanzas. The palate was custard tart, cubes of Turkish delight and pears.