"Pop open a bottle of champagne, pour yourself a flute, and observe what happens." That's the invitation that kicks off this convivial examination of the party season's favourite tipple by a scientist with a very enviable job: associate professor at the University of Reims Champagne-Ardenne and consultant to Moët & Chandon.
Liger-Belair trots through the genesis of the bubbling booze - how a swing to colder weather in the Champagne winemaking region one year in the late 1400s stopped fermentation of yeast placed on grape skins to convert their sugar into alcohol. When spring came, a second fermentation began in the casks of grape juice, creating an excess of carbon dioxide ... and the rest is history. Except for the aside that the monk Dom Pierre Pérignon was first charged with taking out the bubbles that aristo drinkers thought were a sign of poor wine, before changes in fashion meant his orders were reversed.
On to today, via an account of the champagne-making process and we come to what really inspires Liger-Belair - the bubbles that rise from tiny gas cavities located on impurities stuck to the wall of the glass flute.
A calculation of the volume of gas to be released from the wine after being kept at six atmospheres of pressure under the cork leads to a figure of 11m bubbles per 0.1 litre flute. Their movement up and out has been captured in stop-motion photos by Liger-Belair and his team.
The bubbles grow as they ascend, and the final size of the bubbles is a hallmark of quality; some gas escapes during ageing in the cellar, hence the saying: "The smaller the bubbles, the better the wine."
And finally, as your nose nears the surface of liquid, so tiny jet drops created by the bursting bubbles reach pain receptors in the nose and stimulate receptors in the mouth to deliver the aromatic compounds that give champagne its flavour. Bon Noël.
· To order Uncorked: The science of champagne by Gerard Liger-Belair (Princeton UP) at £12.30 (including 5% discount and free UK p&p) call the Guardian book service on 0870 836 0875 or go to theguardian.com/bookshop