The frailty of human
intentions dictate that
the search for pearls begin
in the pig sty.
Wash it off and let
it transport you to
the next level of your
wine enjoyment.
Already in the clouds?
Them come back to enjoy
a truly amazing Earthly
experience.
It’s the “honeycomb experience”
that always amazes me.
For whatever “unusual reason”
this wine is the one WE
pick to cook with in the
absence of “more enlightened”
guidance.
Chicken piccata today.
With “green rice”.
I know what you are thinking, but…
I don’t care.
It doesn’t matter.
I get to drink the
wine “leftovers”.
Nothing else matters…
It’s a good thing
food is nourishing or
we would starve to death.
Saint Peter: Why are you
burping?
OTWN: I had deviled ham
for lunch and then…
SP: Go stand in the corner.
OTWN: THOSE people are
FARTING!
SP: They’ve been here a while.
Hand me your crackers.
I need something to
go with these sardines.
Today is the day before
the much awaited FOMC
announcement regarding
INTEREST RATES.
Who cares?
I do, but I feel like I’m…
For the irrelevant-old-music-
awareness-challenged folk
among us, that’s
“Waiting for the Robert E. Lee”.
For the irrelevent-old-musical-
instrument-awareness-challenged
folk among us, the awful sound
comes from a kal-ee-ohp.
What does this have to do
with the wine???
Obviously, there’s a place
for everything.
However, there may NOT be…
Let me tidy up and make
make room for this one.
I’m trying to decide what
NOT to have with lunch as
I sip this indescribably
delicious STUFF.
I’ll be in heaven before
I get hungry.
Saint Peter: You look horrible.
Why did you starve to death?
OTWN: I couldn’t decide
what to eat.
SP: What were you drinking?
OTWN: Adelsheim.
SP: Did you finish it?
OTWN: Go sit in the corner.
Story time…
This wine came from the
Paola store.
I passed it over several
times as I attempted to
keep my “bottle average”
down to something what wouldn’t
give rise to “corner time”.
Finally, I couldn’t resist.
I KNEW how good it was going
to be because I DISTINCTLY
REMEMBER having it at the
“elevator restaurant” on a
special occasion.
It is amazing how good one’s
memory can be when it comes to
things WORTH REMEMBERING.
Sheesh.
I think “describing” this
wine would be “irreverent”.
I wouldn’t want to be
irreverent.
…
In the days of milk
and honey, the fermentation
fairies descended upon
Earth and bestowed
greatness unto the grapes.
In an attempt to capture
the fairy essence, the
Earthlings bottled the grape
juice and discovered…
Obviously, some Earthling
fossils drank too much and got
carried away with their praise.
…
Day two…
This wine is like a daydream of
curling up on a lawn chair
in late September, lying in full sun,
and soaking up the last few
rays of autumn sun.
Oh wait a minute. That’s reality.
The wine was REALLY good too.
SP: Did you enjoy the warm
autumn days that we blessed
your planet with?
OTWN: Yes, I had the Adelsheim.
SP: Excellent. Why are you
wearing all those clothes?
Here, take my hand…
Butt, butt, butt,
what is the wine like?
It’s like a PLEASANT rebirth
experience.
A veritable…
SP: Why are you trembling?
OTWN: I just finished the Adelsheim.
SP: Open another bottle.
OTWN: No, I mean totally gone.
SP: Why are you HERE then?
OTWN: I had a heart attack
when I realized I couldn’t
afford to buy more.
SP: OK then. Go through
the gate, veer right and
take this chalice to the
first deva you see.
OTWN: Then what?
SP (looking toward
the corner): Move it.
This is the wine from
the Paola store that I
PREVIOUSLY purchased
at a “negotiated price”
because the vintage
WAS SUSPICIOUSLY OLD.
This is a repeat at
full price ($23).
I enjoyed the first
bottle so much that I
decided to pay up for
a second bottle in an
attempt to redeem myself
for “cheating” on the
first bottle.
I think I paid $12 or
so for the first bottle.
Maybe the wine is a bit
old, but it shows up as
a very mellow blend of
flavors and qualities.
The fruit marries the oak.
The acidity marries the tannins.
Flavor marries paleness.
This works NOW
but would obviously
degenerate over time.
For the time being, it
is quite delicious.
To me anyway.
I have no idea whether
this wine is actually
GOOD or not.
Don’t care either.
Story time…
Years ago I thought it
would be interesting to
try the PNs of CA going
from north to south.
Starting in Medocino,
I got lost after drinking
just a few wines.
I knew that the Russian
River AVA was in my path
but I never figured out
how to get there.
One obstacle was price.
I have not made it a point
to purposefully try RR PNs,
but this wine has me thinking.
What WAS I thinking?
I don’t know.
I’m thinking NOW that
I better get my fill
before CA burns up or
falls in the ocean.
Saint Peter: Do you
remember California?
OTWN: Wasn’t that a
vegetable dish?
SP: Don’t you ever
get tired of being
punished?
OTWN: I’m getting
used to it.
SP: What kind of
wine went with
California?
OTWN: Anything not
exported to Peru.
SP: Help me with
these Alpaca harnesses.
The wine almost tastes
moldy.
In a most delightful way.
The only KNOCK on this
wine is the high ALC
level.
At 14.5%, it is above my
maximum of 13.5%.
So what?
So, I have to to be
REAL CAREFUL not to drink
TOO MUCH of this one
in one sitting.
OTWN: I’m not afraid of
being blindsided by wine.
Yoda: You WILL BE.
And now I’m grovelling
at the feet of OUR wine
goddess in an attempt to
have her pour an ever
increasing number of
surprising wines on me.
Judge: You are charged
with being uninformed,
uninitiated, and otherwise
confused about the complexity
and enjoyability of wines
that can be obtained from
disparate locations on
your planet. How do you
you plead?
OTWN: Can I have a drink
while I think about it?
This insanity started quite
innocently last night as I
was sitting on the “patio”
enjoying the mild temperatures
and smells of cow dung.
My “lunch wine” was of
“insufficient quantity”, so
I decided to “sip” a bit
of SOMETHING before my
requisite bath.
This wine was chosen.
Last night was an
“adjusting period” as
I tried to drink
“just a little bit”.
TODAY, I’m getting
to enjoy this beauty
in its full glory.
And that is, WITHOUT FOOD.
This has to be the
perfect APERITIF.
Why?
Because it is in
no hurry to effect
the desired result.
Lunch can wait, have
another sip.
Sheesh.
But, but, but, what
is the wine LIKE?
This wine is like
the feeling you have
when you wake up and
realize that you have
had the forethought
to purchase wine like
this for the TIMES
THAT YOU NEED IT.
What time IS IT anyway?
I’m hungry now.
Thanks Simon.
And if life wasn’t
challenging ENOUGH, the
question of color raises
its chromatographic head.
MAGENTA???
I just poured the
wine into my lap trying
to observe its color.
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 