I’m tasting the grapefruit-
honey-almond thing in this
one I think.
I can never remember the ingredients,
but this reminds me of a Scorpion mixed drink.
The goofy label and the fact
that this comes from SA had me
skeptical that this would be
“good enough”.
It’s good enough.
Delicious in fact.
The ALC is way down there at a
dancing-in-the-street 12% so
I assumed that there might be a
little sugar in there.
Maybe, but it doesn’t distract.
I’m pretty sure that this is
my first Cinsault rosé.
Now I’m wondering if “The French”
might make Cinsault rosé and if it might
be “drier”.
Let’s see what we can find in
“The Languedoc”.
OK, so that was a “no-brainer”.
Now I have something SPECIFIC
to shop for.
If I can remember.
Wife: Are you talking to yourself
again?
OTWN: No, Binks is channeling
a South African Sommelier.
W: You shouldn’t keep listening
to that dead Weimaraner.
OTWN: But she has great insights.
W: Like what?
OTWN: Like shopping for rosé
in Provence.
W: I’m already packed.
I should be able to remember this now.
Right Binks?
Hang in there.
P.S.
As it turns out, just four days
after drinking this wine, I had
a Provence rosé that I didn’t know
I had in the cooler when I was
drinking this one.
Maybe they run the skins and seeds
though a wringer so they get every
last bit of “stuff” off/out of them.
This one is “richer” than I might
expect.
The tannins keep it from being an
easy drinking fruit bomb.
Then there is this pale herbiness.
Like maybe a combination of basil
and mint.
I’m having it with free food.
Maggiano’s Mom’s Lasagne.
It’s ALL RIGHT.
To be any better it would have to
have just a wee bit less fennel
(It. sausage?) and the wine would
have to be Barbaresco.
I could get used to the fennel,
but I will never get used to
Barbaresco substitutes.
So…
When I received this wine in the
6/$60 deal, I glanced at the label
and saw “Wine of xxxxNIA Vintage 2017”.
My mind turned the incomprehensible into
“CaliforNIA”.
Oh boy, another WHATEVER wine.
NOT SO.
This wine is a treat and is
recommended to PN lovers.
I just might have the wine leftovers
with chicken thighs braised with
garlic and thyme.
There’s still a few sips left for today and
I AM enjoying each one.
Was there a hint of chocolate in that sip?
Chocolate covered wild cherries
with a hint of mint.
I should get a prize for drinking
ONLY half of THIS bottle.
Or something…
St. Peter: We weren’t expecting you.
OTWN: I suffocated.
SP: HOW?
OTWN: I tried to hold my breath until
I could finish that Romanian PN.
SP: Here, take a sip of this,
it will make you feel better.
OTWN: What is it?
SP: Your leftovers.
OTWN: Good heavens.
Day Two…
I did make the braised chicken
thighs.
Theresa brought home a loaf of ciabatta
yesterday, so I adorned pieces of that
with SmartBalance and let them warm up
in the skillet at the end of the braising
time.
So good.
Notwithstanding the tannins, I actually
found myself trying to “chug” the wine.
A buttery, oaky Chard,
a Cab, and
this fire breathing Rhone.
I can feel the alcohol
in my nostrils as I exhale.
Somebody needs to invent
a swizzle stick for wine
that absorbs alcohol.
Moving on…
The wine is cloudy.
The flavor is “confusing”.
One could say “complex”
but that would imply
something desirable.
I don’t know about
this one.
It DOES have a distinct
flavor, I’m just not
wired into it yet.
Late 50s medicine chest???
I’m not having any
difficulty drinking it.
It’s just so AWFUL.
I can’t believe it.
Give me another sip.
Surely the winemaker is
doing time in a French
prison for releasing this
to the public.
And SOMEBODY let this
stuff sit around in a
warehouse for five years
or so.
OTWN: What were you thinking
when you let this wine be
produced?
St. Peter: We wanted to
find kind souls who would
sop it up so that others
would not have to endure
the torture of drinking it.
OTWN: Step aside, and hand
me that crystal PN glass.
Drinking delicious wine is
a journey.
So if you don’t mind pretending,
you can come along.
Day Two…
I decided to put this
wine up against the
frozen lasagna to see
if I could tame it a bit.
(I heated it up.)
((The lasagna.))
Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding.
This is much better.
I’m actually ENJOYING
the wine today.
What is the wine LIKE?
I don’t have a clue.
It’s like southern France,
only a little more “eastern”
than I’m used to.
I imagine that this is
one of the more “intriguing”
blends from the Rhone.
A detective novel is not
interesting unless it includes
all the usual suspects.
Which grape is guilty of
making a dragon out of
this wine?
I don’t know.
Syrah is guilty until proven
innocent.
im Schlafe merkst du nicht…
Sweet dreams.
Definition…
Cloudiness: euphemism for
the crud you will find at
the bottom of the bottle.
Hand me that sling blade
so we can divide up the
last pour.
(Pardon me for starting
this wine after that
low ALC Austrian rosé.)
I started the day with
good intentions and
actually accomplished
some things only
an option trader could
appreciate.
And then…
I unscrewed this puppy.
I’m not sure I want
to take the first sip.
This thing smells
SO GOOD.
It’s not because it
smells like something
I like.
It’s because I CAN’T
FIGURE IT OUT.
Will the first sip spoil
the allure?
Will it taste as good
as I imagine?
I DON’T KNOW.
I just keep smelling it.
I’m expecting a nutty
astringency like pecan
shells.
I knew it. I could “smell”
the alcohol!!! 14.5% is way
out of my comfort zone.
How did I get home with
this one?
It’s getting hard to
refrain from sipping.
Here goes…
A bit milkier than I like
and BAM.
Massive HEAT. I just
don’t like that.
We’ll see how this goes.
If it’s not Mrs. Paul’s…
This wine DOES have
CONSIDERABLE REDEEMING
QUALITIES, but I will
have trouble enjoying then.
How does PN get so HOT
in a cool growing environment?
100% sunshine perhaps.
Where’s the fog and low
hanging clouds when you
need them?
Obviously in my head.
No matter, I’ll play around
with lighting the air coming
out of my nostrils as I exhale.
Now that I’m having fun,
I might as well ENJOY the
wine.
It won’t take much of it
to change my mood.
St. Peter: How did you
enjoy your stay on Earth.
OTWN: The nights were
kind of cold.
SP: Didn’t you find
that Chilean PN we sent
you?
OTWN: Yeah, but I drank it in
August. In Kansas.
SP: Go stand in the corner.
OWTN: What? With all those
beer drinkers?
And then there is the
issue of this wine being
a “reserva”.
TO ME, this means that the
wine has been abused
for an excessively long
period of time as a
punishment for committing
SOME KIND of wine crime.
Judge: You have been charged
with becoming overly ripe.
How do you plead?
Chilean PN Grape: Guilty.
Judge: What do you have to
say for yourself.
CPNG: I couldn’t help it.
I was planted in full sun.
Judge: I sentence you to
six months in French oak.
And after that, a discounted
retail release in Siberia
as community service.
CPNG: Whew, thanks. I thought
you might make me move to
New Zealand.
Having made fun of this
wine until it’s intoxicating
effects took hold of me,
I now shift my attention
to ACTUALLY APPRECEIATING it.
The “aromatics” are STUNNING.
And maybe that French oak
gives the wine a bit of
smoothness to go with the
astringency.
If you can think of
a wine cellar as a
“correctional facility”,
then what does that say
about Gamay?
Tomorrow is going to be
a better day for this wine.
………
Day Two…
Hitting a brick wall always
feels better when you know
it’s coming.
Perhaps if I didn’t “detect”
the alcohol, and perhaps if
I couldn’t look at the REALLY
HUGE number on the bottle, then
MAYBE I would not have been
“put off”.
But I did detect it and the
bottle does declare it.
IT’S NOT MY FAULT.
Still, it looks like I’m
going to survive two days
of this one and will come
out of the experience with
an enhanced committment to
stay away from the fire breathers.
I can’t help being Goofy,
I’m having A Momentary
Lapse of Reason…
This is the only
thing I can think of as
I sip this wine.
Suspended animation,
a state of bliss.
Almost sweet.
Fruit salad slurpee.
I don’t care WHAT
the flavors are.
THEY’RE DELICIOUS.
When I pulled this one
out of the cooler this
morning I HOPED for something
like this, but THIS
is way beyond my
expectation.
“Program…”
6am: Check global markets
7am: Coffee
8am: Check outstanding
stock options positions
prior to market open.
9am: After assessing
current market situation
and adjusting positions
accordingly, select
wine to be consumed
with lunch and move
(the wine) from cooler
to fridge.
10am: Start “cooking” lunch.
10:30am: Hurry up.
There’s no excessive
acidity nor is there a
cloying sweetness.
Just a seductive
“in between”.
I have fruit flies
arriving from Iowa.
There are no rotting
melons in the garden
this year, so
it must be the wine.
What’s in this bottle?
Since it’s Austrian, let’s
guess that it’s that PN
“similar” grape whose name
escapes me.
Not Zweigelt, the other red
from Austria. (St. Laurent?)
Let’s see.
OK, I missed by the sum
of a vineyard’s row lengths.
First when there’s nothing
But a slow budding flower
That your anticipation seems to hide
Deep inside your mind
All alone, I have made
little pools full of drool
In a fermentation made of steel
Made of stone
Well, I hear the crush
Close my eyes, smell the fumes
Wrap around, take a hold of my heart
What a feeling
Being’s believing
I can have it all
Now I’m drinking for my life
Take your palate
And make it happen
The MUST comes alive
You can drink right through your life
Now I hear the cork pop
Close my eyes, I am seduced
In a flash, it takes hold of my heart
What a feeling, being’s believing
I can have it all
Now I’m drinking for my life
Take your palate
And make it happen
The MUST comes alive
Now I’m drinking through my life
What a feeling
What a feeling (I am Wine now)
Being’s believing (I am Rosé now)
The MUST comes alive
You can drink right through your life
What a feeling (I can really have it all)
What a feeling
(The MUST comes alive when I call)
I can have it all (I can really have it all)
Have it all (MUST comes alive when I call)
(Call, call ,call, call, what a feeling)
I can have it all (being’s believing)
Being’s believing (take your palate)
(Make it happen) Make it happen
(What a feeling) What a feeling
EXCEPT THAT I’m
drinking the wine
AFTER mid-morning
fresh peaches and bran muffin
on the ramp up to lunch.
This wine does not
hit me over the head
with any particular
FLAVOR.
That’s OK, I like
being conscious
WHILE I’m drinking.
Policeman: Move along. Move along.
OTWN: What happened to all
those people lying on the ground?
P: They uncorked some CA Chard.
OTWN: Ouch. What hit them?
P: Green apples. Want a taste?
OWTN: Let me grab my helmet.
I prefer illusiveness over
overtness when it comes
to wine flavors, so this
wine is WONDERFUL.
Full of favors to be named
later.
I’ll just enjoy being
dumbfounded for the time being.
Not so much that it
doesn’t occur to me that I
should spend MORE TIME
drinking Spanish white
wine.
I wish I had MORE TIME.
Tick. Tick. Tick.
Cursed metronome.
OooooooEeeeeee.
The last few sips of
this one were
heavenly richness INCARNATE.
Lunch anyone?
ME? I’m still conscious but
undecided about lunch.
Option Trader's Wine Notes 