In reverse order, lest God
runs out of blessings before
we go wine shopping again.
How are blessings measured
any way?
What is the “unit of measure”?
Mother: God blessed us with
a baby girl.
OTWN: How big was it?
M: SHE’S six pounds,
eleven ounces.
OTWN: No, I mean the blessing.
How big was the blessing?
M: Gee, I don’t know.
On what scale?
OTWN: I don’t know.
Obviously not by the pound.
But, but, but, what about
the wine?
This wine is a BIG blessing.
Especially if you like
stinky tennies.
FOR REFERENCE…
I don’t mind stinky
tennies, especially if
they are worn by Gina
Carano or an Oregon PN.
I must have an unusual
“sensitivity” to SOMETHING.
No matter. I just think
of Gina and the wine tastes
great.
This particular PN TASTES
perfumy.
Dumbfounding. For me.
I’m impatiently struggling
to “appreciate” this wine
and THAT’S NOT GOOD.
Relax. Wait for it.
Appreciate it.
OK. I’m swilling the
wine around in the glass,
inhaling forcefully through
one nostril, trying to
create a “wine funnel” into
my brain.
THAT kind of patience wasn’t
particularly helpful.
Maybe, just maybe, I might
be tasting that cherry
cough drop flavor now.
Like dancing cherries sporting
Van Dykes.
I like the one on the left.
I just tasted something “milky”
but it is not associated with
the lactic acid “mouth feel”.
Just a flavor.
Due to its seductiveness,
this wine has flooded the
engine. I need to let the
old cylinder head dry out.
OR, just full choke it and
keep cranking.
It’s getting harder to decide.
So… There is some of that MLF
smoothness, but it is kept at
bay by the acididy.
Isn’t PN wonderful?
I was trying to determine the
“oak treatment” for this one.
If incomprehensible names
were worth points, this
wine would be off the scale.
There is nothing to do
except pop the cork and
dive in.
TOTALLY WONDERFUL.
Especially after that
“unexpected” Loire CF.
This reminds me of
Vinho Verde, but with
a bit more flavor punch.
I tasted lemon, but the
“winemaker” notes say
grapefruit.
On day one I drank most
of this low ALC beauty
while munching on potato
chips and a grilled
turkey/Muenster sandwich.
On day two, I’m having
the LITTLE THAT REMAINS
for a liquid brunch.
How much more pleasurable
would our lives be if
we “customarily” had this
kind of wine during our
10AM work break?
It is difficult to imagine
our “well corked” society
becoming THAT evolved.
I doesn’t take much FOR
ME (Form E to IRS employees)
to imagine a BETTER WORLD…
“Mobile Enotica” service
for businesses.
At 10AM, the bell rings
and all the employees rush
out to the parking lot to
greet the “wine truck”.
The truck stops, the driver
gets out, and then pops
open the sides of the truck
to reveal iced down,
gorgeous little 350ml
bottles of every LIGHT wine
elixer imagined by man.
Let me go over to the “red”
side to see if they have
a Georgian PN (or reasonable
facsimile).
No? I’m filing a complaint
with HR.
Gee, brunch is almost over
and I’m already having
withdrawal symptoms.
I know. I’ll learn to fly.
On my own. Without wine.
Aw shucks, I ain’t got wings…
Tom should have
eschewed the Zin.
I refuse to not repeat things
on the grounds that I may not
re-incriminate myself.
St. Peter: What do you
have to say for yourself.
OTWN: I was a good person
but I tended to repeat
myself, over and over,
ad infinitum, as far as
the eye can see.
SP: Go stand in the corner.
OTWN: What? With all those
evangelists?
I expect to see more of
“the crud” later on and
that will be interesting.
(You got that right.)
I haven’t drunk CF enough
to have reasonable
expectations, but this one
catches me off guard with
the big flavor.
The acidity has something
like a fizz sensation to it.
I’m pretty much overwhelmed
with the aromas and flavors.
That’s how wimpy a red
drinker I am.
(I like reds, I’m just wimpy.)
Now I’m picking up the tannins.
After a few minutes of
sipping and snacking, I
can’t get away from the oak.
It’s getting in the way.
I imagine that one has to
subdue this characteristic
with some food that is
COMPATIBLE.
I’m starting to drool just
thinking about the perfect
food.
Panini-style grilled baloney,
onion, and sweet pepper
sandwiches on hotdog buns.
We wouldn’t want to insult
the Italians by ALSO wasting
GOOD BREAD.
Oh silly me,,,
We need something “French” to eat.
Escargot Flambé Trébuchet
But, but, but, what about
the wine?
It’s “challenging” FOR ME.
The good news is that I
CAN’T EVEN FINISH HALF THE
BOTTLE today.
Tomorrow will be interesting.
Day Two…
Still jammy. Blackberry maybe.
Still oaky.
TOO MUCH power Christopher.
I’m going to flog the
wine with anti-braised
(chicken broth/SmartBalance)
Brussels sprouts, parsley
and garlic.
Just smelling this concoction
cooking is making the
wine taste better.
OMG!!! After half a skillet of
the Niburu Brussels Sprouts,
the wine is completely tamed.
I submit. Drinking good wine
without eating the RIGHT food
MAY BE a mortal sin.
(If it was a venial sin,
purgatory would be a wine school.
What kind of punishment
would that be?)
St. Peter: Did you enjoy
the Loire wine we provided
for you?
OTWN: It was too heavy.
SP: What did you eat with it?
OTWN: Potato chips.
SP: Go stand in the corner.
OTWN: There’s too many
people over there.
SP: We noticed.
OTWN: What are you doing
about it?
SP: How would you like
to have a NDE and go
back as a Sommelier.
OTWN: Will I get a discount
on on the wines?
SP: Go stand in the
other corner with the
bankers.
There were six whole
cloves of garlic in the
skillet which I saved for
dessert.
(I know what you’re
thinking. He ate a
skillet for dessert.
Don’t be silly. I had
garlic for dessert.)
The wine is “smooth” and
delicious now.
And getting more “astringent”
with each sip.
How can it be smooth and
astringent?
I don’t know.
Smooth: concordance of flavor
Astringent: raspy feeling in the mouth
Meaning: Astringency wins by TKO
because it saved its best punches
for the end.
And before the wine was
totally gone, I checked to
make sure that I HAD BEEN
drinking CF.
This wine is OK, but I
suspect that an ordinary,
honest-to-god Barbaresco
would quickly extinguish
its wax fueled flame.
Nevertheless, as far as
a close-but-no-cigar Neb
might go, I can’t find a
fault with this one.
Maybe it’s like the
homecoming queen’s twin sister.
She just doesn’t have the
personality.
Let’s focus on something
less precocious.
Like braised pork.
The pork was cubed shoulder
from Omaha Steak which my wife
rescued from the I-don’t-like-this-crap
corner of my sister-in-law’s freezer.
I SLOW sauteed it in some
olive oil with a wee bit of
freshly ground pepper, scraping
the skillet constantly to keep
all those caramelizing bits of
gustatorial heaven from sticking,
and adding six whole cloves of
garlic as this process neared
its conclusion.
Added chicken broth to cover,
two sprigs of fresh thyme,
and simmered covered
for maybe thirty minutes until
the broth was mostly gone.
Free food never tasted so good.
And then to have it with
this wine.
Life is tough for the old
folks that trade stock options
in retirement.
Eat free food and contemplate
the relative merits of a
SPECIFIC type of wine whose
grapes were grown in a
SPECIFIC location.
But, but, but, what about
THIS wine?
If you like Barolo and
Barbaresco, but can’t afford
them for every day drinking,
then this wine will
motivate you to get a better
job or enter riskier stock
option trades.
I’m old, so I just have
to pace myself.
And look forward to enjoying
this one again, sooner
rather than later.
I normally don’t read about
a wine BEFORE I start drinking it.
This is going to be INTERESTING.
My only concern is the oak
treatment.
Hopefully the barrels were
REALLY BIG and REALLY “NEUTRAL”.
The comparison to Beaujolais is
a bit “suspect”, but I won’t mind
being surprised.
Now I wait for lunch to happen.
………
I made it.
So PALE in the glass.
(The wine)
SUBTLE, but lovely perfume.
(MY dog after rolling
on the petrified rabbits.)
TANNINS???
(Qat, in season. Can we get
this (the shrub) on Amazon?)
I was hoping the “neutral”
oak would yield some tannins
and I think I got my wish.
This wine is a bullseye.
I’m NOT having fun trying
to get educated on the
Secano Interior DO.
I found a few things to read
but I’m not finding anything
“satisfying”. I can’t find
a map.
After a couple of open face,
broiled, spicy chicken, soft corn
tortilla TACOs???, I declare the
wine to be more like a Romanian
PN than anything else I HAVE
DRUNK.
And that (the Romanian stuff)
MAY BE my favorite WINE thing.
(Obviously, the OTWN is opining
a wee bit hyperbolically here.)
(For want of an accurate and
comprehensive “spell checker”
the nation was lost.)
(Oh, wait a minute, (as if that’s
how long it took to remember that)
there’s Burgundy, Beaujolais, Barolo,
Barbaresco, Rioja, Bordeaux
(in season AND FROM THE RIGHT
PLACES), and so on and so forth.
I get confused.)
So obviously, I’M REALLY
ENJOYING THIS WINE.
Every wine has a distinct
character that has to be
appreciated at the right
place and time.
I’m reminded of this character…
Gee, when IS IT a good time
to watch Jimmy Durante???
But, but, but, what
about the wine?
It’s like drinking INNOCENCE.
Purposeful ambiguity of implication intended.
I can’t imagine what it’s
like to ACTUALLY PRODUCE A WINE
THAT TASTES THIS GOOD.
I looked out this morning and the sun was gone
Picked out a wine to start my day
I lost myself in the familiar smell
I closed my eyes and I slipped away
It’s more than a feeling (more than a feeling)
When I taste that old blend they used to make (more than a feeling)
I begin dreaming (more than a feeling)
’till I see Marianne (the wine maker) walk away
I see my Marianne walkin’ away
…
Wake up! Wake up!
It’s ONLY a nightmare.
She’s right here.
We’re going to bottle it
tomorrow and the whole
vintage is sold out.
Thank God. What’s for lunch?
Who cares?
But, but, but, what about
the wine?
If the vineyards didn’t
burn up, this one is a
MUST TRY AGAIN IF THE
OPPORTUNITY PRESENTS ITSELF
AND I CAN REMEMBER THAT
I LOVED THIS WINE.
Wine Fruit: Hey, I saw the
light on. What are YOU
ALL drinking?
OTWN: PN. Go away.
WF: I won’t stay long.
I just smelled that awesome
perfume. Couldn’t resist.
OTWN: Let me help you.
WF: Oh well, my GF just
opened a Garnacha.
OTWN: Vaya con Dios.
If I told the casual
wine drinker that I
liked PN from “eastern
Europe”, I would get a
blank stare.
Luckily I’m not any more
self-conscious than the
average paranoid schizophrenic.
I’ll go with “middle east” PN
if I can find it.
What will it take for the
Georgians to start making
fine dry wines and sending them
to Kansas?
I DON’T KNOW, but time is
running out FOR ME.
Where’re the autocratic,
communist governments of
this world when you need them?
Burgundy, I presume.
What’s all this “global”
nonsense for anyway?
Socks?
I don’t mind going barefoot.
(Spring to Fall only please.
I’ll drink Rioja in the winter
with my socks and slippers on.)
Lest you think that I can
dream up this nonsense WITHOUT
FOOD, let me assure you that
I CANNOT.
Lunch menu…
Chili Cheese Corn Tortilla Stacks
(Requires imagination/nightmares.)
Take it or leave it.
The best stack was the one
that got forgotten in the oven
while I was “investigating”
a “blonde” that wrote an article
on corporate bonds.
The overdone stack (the food)
was good.
I didn’t read the article
because the deck was stacked
against me.
I think I need a …
from this BIG BOTTLE.
Day Two…
Actually, the bottle COULD
BE just a little bit bigger.
Option Trader's Wine Notes 