Saint Peter: You look sad.
OTWN: I’m dead DUDE.
SP: What was your top card?
OTWN: Queen of Hearts.
SP: Normally that’s good.
OTWN: I traded it away.
SP: Go stand in the corner.
OTWN: But they’re drinking Rioja
over there.
SP: It’s all you can drink, no cover.
OTWN: Jumpin’ Jehoshaphat!
SP: Not again?
I TRY to avoid the OAK, but
it’s HARD.
I should NEVER take home a
RESERVA no matter what the
experts say.
It’s just me.
The wine is wonderful.
I just don’t need no stinkin’ OAK.
Now that I’m thinking about it,
I would like to taste some
Rioja Nouveau.
I would miss the vanilla, but
at least I could taste the wine.
This one is “tolerable” in the
OAK department and “pleasurable”
in the VANILLA department.
I’m having trouble “sensing” the
wine because it is SO GOOD.
Dark red fruit.
Silky smooth vanilla.
Just enough OAK to get your
attention.
A favorite in purgatory.
I would never drink another
Rioja if it weren’t for the fact
that I won’t quit till I find
one that hits my bull’s-eye.
Saint Peter: You’re sober, what happened?
OTWN: I found the perfect Rioja.
SP: Really? I thought you were born after
HIS time.
OTWN: I was, another earthling made it.
SP: So why didn’t you continue drinking
other wines?
OTWN: I died when I took my first sip
of the perfect Rioja.
SP: Have you been talking to The Devil?
OTWN: How would I know?
SP: Well he’s… Oh, just go stand in
the corner.
OTWN: But I’m sober!
SP: Here, take this Crianza. It’s
not OAKy enough for US.
OTWN: Oh-oh.
I had the Cava
with potato chips
for brunch, then with
breaded fish fillets
a little later.
I don’t understand why
“the bubbly” and chips
aren’t required fare for all
“Earthlings of sufficient
longevity”.
At a recent visit
to the Paola store, I
picked up another bottle
of the French “bubbly” from the
the original bubbly and
underappreciated region of Limoux.
While staring at the
fizzy offerings, I scanned
for a Cava.
Every other day I’m
drinking a DIFFERENT
wine with lunch.
It’s tough keeping up the pace.
Maybe I should take a
“seasonal approach”.
That would be OK if
summer was 20 years long
and I could enjoy
Albariño from TIME to
TIME.
My first impression
of THIS WINE was of
OILY RICHNESS and a hint
of honeycomb.
I don’t remember much
after the first few sips
because my mind started
to wander in a most
delightful way.
I’m currently into
gummy/sticky Thai rice
with WHATEVER.
The wine went well with
the Andre’s meatballs in
caper sauce.
If this wine isn’t
“perfect for me” it is
because it is a bit
light on acidity.
Day Two…
An instant replay
of yesterday…
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.
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 started hugging the
bottle when I found it
hiding in the cooler
hoping to go undetected.
Perhaps this wine is shy.
Any wine lover worth their
salt will fawn over this
wine like they would over
their child at a fourth grade
piano recital.
WHY DON’T we send our
prepubescent offspring
to WINE SCHOOL so that we can
look forward to evenings
of glorious oenological delight
rather than ones of cacophony.
I DON’T KNOW.
Neighbor: Hey, come to the
game tonight, my son’s on
the dance team.
OT: Sorry, my daughter’s
helping with the barrel tasting
at the Heritage vineyard.
N: Can I come?
OT: Yeah, but don’t bring
the pom-poms.
But, but, but, what about
the wine?
Hommina, hommina, hommina…
If you don’t finish it
in one day, you will have
trouble sleeping.
Sweet dreams.
I can’t find any “useful”
information about this wine
on the web.
YMMV.
I just realized that I
almost let the FORTH pass
without making fun of
Martina McBride.
Especially since
Penedes Cava (Penny)
would be THE CAUSE.
She has flowing
black hair, dark
hazelnut eyes and
an ever so lightly
bronzed complexion.
With an effervescent
personality.
I said my prayers
BEFORE I opened the
bottle but I doubt
that will help.
When YOU open the
bottle, you have to
be careful not
to be sucked back
into the it after
the pressure is
released.
I used a vice-grip
pliers to open the
silly thing because
I’m an options trader
and can’t spend my
day chanting in an
effort to remove the cork.
The warning on the
label states that
there is no lifeguard
on duty inside the bottle.
This wine came in
a “prescribed” case
focused on VALUE.
From Spain predominately.
(I’m curious as to
whether the doctor
ventures outside of
Spain for value.)
I was ecstatic when
I saw this one in
the case.
(Actually, this one
might have been
delivered in a separate
bag because the bottle
was TOO FAT TO FIT
IN THE CASE.)
It’s time for some
food, but first I
have to go write
“You’re an idiot”
on my bathroom
mirror and hope that
my wife doesn’t
go in there before
I do.
But, but, but…
What’s the wine like?
It’s like playing
kiss the bottle with
the Rockettes.
Or Chippendales,
if you are a
female member of
the opposite sex.
Obviously, most of us
don’t drink “THE
BUBBLY” every day
because the world
would be a better
place if we did.
And we don’t want THAT.
Better to suffer and
complain, and drink
still wine.
Can we have Champagne
with the orange cake?
Shut up and drink your
powdered milk.
Day Two…
I did the vacuum
pump thing on this
one in hopes that
it might help
preserve the fizz.
(Actually, this
doesn’t make sense
but I had to do
SOMETHING.)
Good enough.
This has been
a real treat.
I was kind to myself
yesterday, so I have
plenty of this one
to drink today.
I expect my mind
to start drifting
away any minute now.
…
Why DON’T WE drink
the sparklers everyday?
For breakfast preferably.
I DON’T KNOW.
In the 1960s,
people drank TANG.
And powdered lemonade.
That’s quite insane.
Too much TV I suspect.
(Yes, we also ate “TV”
dinners.)
NOW, I’m thinking
about seeking out
bubbly from ALL OVER
THE PLACE.
I DON’T KNOW, but
I suspect that I
couldn’t fill
a shopping cart
(say two cases) with
these kinds of wine
at the LARGEST wine
superstore in the
KC area and still
have a bank balance.
Since I’m an EARLY
DRINKER, this is
a mouth watering
ambition.
If life wasn’t challenging
we wouldn’t need
shrinks that don’t
drink TANG for breakfast.
Option Trader: None of my
trades work out unless
I make them after 12:30PM
or so.
Shrink: What time do you
start drinking?
OT: As early as possible.
S: Try getting up earlier.
The French start trading
while you’re still dreaming
about naked puts.
Option Trader's Wine Notes 