The dandelion wine we bottled last winter is finally ready for drinking. Bon Iver takes one sip, and a boyish grin spreads across his face. ‘How does it taste?’ I ask. ‘Notes of sunshine and crisp mountain air, flavors of children’s laughter and the inside of a seashell, aromas of ochre and warm skin,’ he says. His palate is delicate and strange - just like him.