Sometimes, you just want to accept that something tastes good without knowing how it was made.
A list of 30 more wines, none of which are vinted by humans, elves, or dwarves.
"One for you," He mumbled, pouring some rum onto his boots, "And a few gulps for me, and we’re off."
He took a large gulp from the bottle, put his boots on, and was out the door in a flash.
Food of the gods.
No nose, hardly any body, a terrible wine, really.
A potent drink gauranteed to turn good folk into depraved and desolate madmen.
Lady Carse of Tekne
I tell you, I get this itch on my lip when I think about Sgriob and the waters of the casks…
Captain Wandren, Ship’s logs
You receive a vision of a rooftop "somewhere close by", where a rare moss grows; in the vision, you know the moss is suitable for greatly enhancing the effects of certain types of potions. Now go and find that rooftop. Don't fall off. (Of course, rooftop runners *will* be taken for miscreants by the local City Watch....)