So, it was “reasonable” to question
whether Riesling was in there.
Also, check the reference to
“capsaicin”.
That could be the “harshness”
I’m detecting, but I would never
make the connection.
Day Two…
This wine is SIMPLY STUNNING.
A German-style white with just
a tiny bit of sweetness to balance
the gratuitous and appreciated acidity.
All the usual suspects in
the flavor department.
With each sip, you try to
find a fault, but none appears.
Nothing but pure pleasure.
Chef’s note: I cooked the
rice in a LOW and SLOW manner,
allowing the grains to FULLY
absorb the moisture and
seasoning flavors required
to make the rice EDIBLE.
Freaking delicious.
Saint Peter: You’re out of
breath. What happened?
OTWN: I was running away
from a rice stampede and…
SP: Did it catch you?
OTWN: Yes, I tripped and
was instantly covered by a
mountain of cereal grain.
SP: You’re lucky it wasn’t
potatoes.
OTWN: Lovely, but I’m dead
and my favorite wine is
buried under the rice.
SP: You can’t have everything.
OTWN: But I’m dead now.
SP: Hand me your glass.
OTWN: Hey, that’s my Sprockets!
SP: Possessive you are.
OWTN: Gimme that bottle.
I’ll pour YOU some if you’re good.
SP: I was just going to admit you.
OTWN: Hand me your glass.
Let’s not put this one to
bed without “researching”
the Huxelrebe grape…
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.
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.
Since I get so bored
making these mindlessly
dull notes about boring
wine, I was going to
skip the notes on this
pick of the litter.
But, but, but,,,
This wine is SO GOOD.
If I was tired of it
I might shut up.
If the wine was nothing
less than Mmmmmmmmmmmm,
I might not ever buy it
again.
But I keep buying it,
and continue to be seduced.
Today I’m noticing that
the wine label DOES NOT
contain information about
inbred family member’s
love of knotty fence posts,
but rather contains some
PERTINENT INFORMATION
ABOUT THE WINE.
I’m pretty sure that
highly paid winemakers
marry outside
of their clan.
At the risk of
repeating myself,
this one is
“rich” without
ANY of the
defective baggage.
Not too hot.
Not too oaky.
Not too acidic.
Not too tannic.
Not too pruney.
What are the odds
of a winemaker making
a rich PN WITHOUT
delivering one of
these “faults”?
I DON’T KNOW.
I’m an option trader
Jim, not a statistics
professor.
I don’t have a PRECISE
idea what PH THIS or
TA THAT means but it is
nice to know that the
winemaker does not have
brain damage.
We don’t need no
stinkin’ containers,
hand me that goat
bladder full of Zin.
(Don’t ask for it
on the rocks.)
I DON’T KNOW, but
the low ALC leads me
to believe that there
is a wee bit of sugar
in this one.
That’s OK, it GOES
WITH the potato salad.
(Are they dating?)
Wine Babe: I have a date,
I’m leaving.
Single Mom: Who is it?
WB: Mr. Potato Head.
SM: Are you “going
with” HIM?
WB: Sure, he’s a bit
starchy, but he has
great tubers.
SM: Does he have any
leafy green friends?
WB: Oh, you mean Mr.
Pot Head?
This is WAY TO EASY
to drink.
Sheesh.
Story Time…
My first “wine experience”
was “Boone’s Farm” during
freaking MARDI GRAS in
1970.
I brought three friends
home to NOLA from my
“religious school” in
Birmingham AL just for
the weekend before
Mardi Gras.
One of my “friends” was
a rich kid with a brand
new Gran Torino.
Saturday night was party
time as I gathered up
several of my local church
misfits to help us
celebrate my
first +18yo “outing”.
You could drink
ANYTHING legally in
NOLA if you were
18, or younger if
the cashier was a
friend or even a young
person, or you had
an older brother,
or you stole liquor
out of the back of
WRECKED cars, yada,
yada, yada.
Nobody checked.
WHAT
A
MESS
SOME OF US
survived and
I learned to
eschew cheap wine.
I also learned to
consult the dictionary
before writing words
whose meaning escapes
me.
(You got that right.)
On the other hand…
CHEAP = FUN = GOOD
(I majored in MATH
when I was sober.)
But, but, but…
What about the wine?
Buy more, drink more.
How hard is that?
Crash Victim: I
should have bought
more insurance.
Option Trader: I
can sell you a good
policy on your
totaled vehicle.
CV: Why?
OT: So you won’t lose
MORE money if you total
it again.
CV: Where do I sign?
OT: Right under “loser”.
CV: How do I know you
can pay up?
OT: Your car isn’t worth
anything NOW.
CV: Oh yeah, OK.
And just in case you
have the 23rd, 20th, and
6th letters of the alphabet
wedged between your ears…
Sometimes, there are days
when you NEED a drink
and the “notes” can just
WAIT.
Today isn’t one of those days.
Nevertheless, I (meaning
ME), decided to NOT take
notes RIGHT AWAY.
No first sip nonsense.
No aroma insanity.
No “mouth feel” superfluous
mumbo jumbo.
Then WHAT?
Just an “overall sensation”
after drinking HALF THE
FREAKING BOTTLE, and before
letting the world intrude.
GOOD.
GOOD WHAT? GOOD meaning
that it’s OK not to take
notes, or GOOD as an
indication that one might
like this wine?
YES.
Silliness Alert: The
author of this note has
ventured into a region
of silliness that 80%
of wine note authors
are unwilling to go.
Continued reading of
this note constitutes a
tacit recognition on
your part that you are
equally silly or more so..
Yes, this is the best
cinnamon PN that I can
REMEMBER drinking.
Have you (meaning ME
as I talk to myself)
ever had this one before?
I don’t remember.
Let’s consult the local
listings…
(Lemme say that there
is no FORMAL contraction
for “let me”, so I’m using
the US contraction
and hoping that you
and/or my imaginary
friends will join me as
I scan my old notes.)
Hmmm…
I HAVE HAD this one
before ON HALLOWEEN
and my prior notes were
“interesting” even to me,
AND even more so in hindsight.
Huh?
(I woke up this morning
with the overwhelming
urge to use a verb in the
present perfect tense.
I feel better now.)
I’m going to guess that there was a “rough” oak treatment.
(Squirm.)
Let’s consult the WWW…
Amazing. I can’t find ANYTHING. The Ayres site doesn’t
even claim this one.
I wish I had a marketing department to sell them.
On the other hand, maybe their wine sells itself.
Manager: When will the wine be ready?
Winemaker (her makeup cracking as she smiles): We’re bottling it today.
M: Great, I’ll call the distributors so we can get some sales rolling.
W: Say what? My fashion consultant already bought the entire vintage.
M: Did we make any money on the deal?
W: Who’s WE, blondie. And tell that flyover dude to stop snooping around
MY winery.
Apparently this wine is SO GOOD that you can use it to
loosen compacted soil or as a blood substitute in the opening
scene of Blade.
Surprised?
Why are wine reviews so BORING?
Maybe I should hire out to AA.
Reporter: It looks like you’ve been sober for two weeks.
Wino: That’s right.
R: What happened.
W: I read one of HIS reviews.
Or how about a description of the “IMAGINED oaking” technique?
The old French oak barrels are disassembled and the staves are
planed down to reveal “fresher” wood.
3/8 inch holes are drilled in the wood, 2 inches apart,
to a depth of 1/4 inch and a 1 inch segment of grape vine
is inserted into the hole and secured by a drop of pine resin.
This is done in the spring to give the resin time to harden.
The barrels are re-assembled at harvest time.
After initial fermentation, the wine is poured into the modified
barrels which are spun/rotated at a rate of 120 RPM.
The time in spinning barrel can be from three to six months
depending upon which sin the wine has committed.
Careful filtration must be done in order to remove the loosened
grape vine segments and rosin. (This is prescient if I do say
so myself because I wrote this way before I got to the bottom
of the bottle.)
After use, barrels modified in this fashion are donated to
hair transplant victims as a needed tax write-off for the winery.
The result will be a wine that lulls you to sleep and
makes YOUR head spin.
I wouldn’t SWEAR that THEY used THIS technique, but they did
SOMETHING to make the wine REALLY GOOD.
This is getting too easy.
I need to branch out. Tibetan Malbec comes to mind.
And JUST MAYBE, this “rough oak treatment” is what it takes
to bring out the tannins I THOUGHT I was looking for in PN.
It tames some of that acidity. It’s all in the balance.
SMOOTH, ACIDY, NOT-TOO-OAKY TANNINS. Why is that so hard?
PN may be the only (or most popular) grape that presents
this challenge to the Elvira-and-kit-shicker-wine-making wannabes.
I DON’T KNOW.
Dreamtime is over. I get to have some of this one
for brunch tomorrow.
Menu for tomorrow: 2016
NOW, let the sunshine in…
(The songs make more sense of you imagine that
all those little round things are fermenting grapes.)
————————————-
Day Two…
I didn’t save ENOUGH of this one.
I’m having MORE of the STALKY GREEN STUFF for
brunch.
All I can say is…
There’s SOMETHING about this wine.
It’s beauty is “singular” and edgy.
It’s rough and seductive.
I’m imagining an Oregon PN “shootout”.
Winemakers instead of quick draw artists. Bottles
instead of guns.
Hopefully, this bottle-slinger wasn’t a good winemaker…
I KNEW IT!!!
The last pour produced the most “compelling” bunch
of sludge that I can possibly imagine in a PN.
NOW I know what I’m looking for.
Wine Merchant: How can I help you?
Wine Slush: I want Pinot Noir.
WM: We have this wonderful wine from the “Central Valley”.
WS: No.
WM: Perhaps something MORE fruity?
WS: No.
WM: How about something rich and full-bodied?
WS: No.
WM: We have an oaky one from Mozambique.
WS: No.
WM: What exactly DO you want?
WS: Sludge. I want sludge.
WM: In a PN?
WS: Oh yeah.
But the bad news seems to be that only the Canadians like perfection
at a ridiculously low price… Chevalier De Dyonis Pinot Noir
And while I’m flitting around the globe incoherently, SOMEONE
from Oregon/Borgogne/Barolo should go to Georgia (the country) with the sole
purpose of teaching them how to make delicious DRY wines that the
inhabitants of the rest of the planet might enjoy with their Big Macs and
frozen pizzas.
A few years ago, I found the Chevalier De Dyonis PN at Lukas. Missouri I presume.
One of the most stunningly pale wines that I have ever “tasted”.
I loved it so much that I saved the bottle to be used as a container
for “vinegar production” from the leftovers of more “flavorful/sludgy” reds.
The fact that the Foris PN is “evoking” these thoughts is a testament
to how well aligned this wine is to my “psyche”.
It appears that this is my first attempt at Foris.
I wouldn’t want to miss another chance of enjoying this one any
more that I would would want to start another day without being able
to go to Indian Lake (the way the Indians do)…
I had to take a break because the Jehovah’s Witness
folks showed up “unexpectedly”.
They weren’t wearing go-go boots and didn’t have any Romanian wine
worth drinking either. Actually they didn’t have ANY wine.
Hmmm. No wonder they pray a lot.