Saint Peter: What happened
to YOU?
OTWN: I was born silly and
never recovered.
SP: Why didn’t you seek help.
OTWN: I did, but I couldn’t
find anybody silly enough to
help ME.
SP: No matter. You’re here
now and you should feel right
at home.
OTWN: What? Are all these souls
silly?
SP: Don’t be silly. WE are
TOLERANT.
OTWN: Can I be excused?
SP: Sure. Go stand in the
corner.
It never occurred to me to
track down exceptional
white wine in Paola or
Brookside, but “stuff” happens.
I’m “busy” today, so…
I have no idea what I’m
drinking except that…
It’s good.
It came in the $100 case.
We opened it to include in
the “Chicken Piccata”.
After seeing how much I’m
enjoying this wine, the reds
in my cooler are organizing
a pilgrimage to Tibet.
OTWN: Hey Theresa, do you
remember where we keep the
capers?
T: Refrigerator?
OTWN: OK, but where?
T: Look in the crisper.
OTWN: I can’t find them
anywhere.
T: Oh wait a minute. There
was a 2014 Fleurie up here
this morning looking for
backpacking food. It left a
trail menu.
OTWN (reading menu): Yummy.
T: Who’s going to cook for
a bunch of full wine bottles?
OTWN (making sign to
hang around neck): I’m going
for a walk.
(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 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.
Obviously, it’s…
…
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.
Option Trader's Wine Notes 