Wine Giques

What's your biggest wine Pet Peeve?

Oh God, don't get me started.

I went out with friends last night to a neighborhood place that's known for their steaks and martinis. First of all, they didn't have the gin I wanted - but, that's another story. This dark, cavern of a restaurant is fun because it's kind of an old school, "rat pack" kind of a place. Well, their new and exciting thing was that they have improved the wine list. I knew this because they had a big sign on their door, the waiter made a point of telling us when she presented the wine list, and the maitre 'd came over to ask if I needed any help with this new, improved list. Truth be told, it had a few more wines than the usual suspects but it wasn't anything to write home about. I did find three or four wines that I thought we'd enjoy in a decent price point.

The real telling moment (of how the list may have a couple new wines but not much else had changed) was when the wine glasses came to the table. They were those glasses that are perceived as fancy because they have a long stem, but the bowl of the glass is too short to get wine and your nose into. Pet Peeve Numero Uno. A glass that is too small and inadequate for swirling and sniffing.
The second Pet Peeve of the evening was right on the heels of the first one; the wine was too warm. This is a problem in too many restaurants. Red wine that is too warm and white wine that is too cold tastes like alcohol and not much more. I ask for a wine bucket for a red wine much more often than for white. Wine that is served at the proper "cellar" temperature shows fruit and all of the other nuances of good wine.

The wine of the evening was the 2004 King Estate Pinot Noir from Oregon. Once the wine was chilled down a bit, all of the fruit came spilling out. It was crammed with red fruits cranberry/cherry/strawberry, and a nice amount of spice.

"Excellent choice", were the exact words of the maitre 'd.

You don't bring me flowers...

My husband and I are porch sitters. Deck diners. Lovers of the outdoors. We would live alfresco if we could. He, out of necessity - he's a smoker. Me, because I am jealous of the fact that he meets all of the neighbors before I do.

Because of the fact that we are in front of our house most of the time, our neighbors gravitate over to our house.  And because we love to entertain, we invite those neighbors over to eat and drink. Sometimes just drink, sometimes drink and nibble, and occasionally to a barbecue. I would have people over every night if I could get them to come. I should have had more children perhaps but, I only had one.

Our friends across the street, Mel and Kathy, brought me wine the other day - three bottles. They felt as though they had enjoyed enough of my wine and wanted to replenish my stores.
I have never been one to turn down money, or flowers, or wine.

I opened one of those bottles tonight. Red Skye Syrah (2001) from Santa Barbara doesn't taste like one of those over-blown styles of California Syrah. It has a full mouthfeel, slightly chewy texture reminiscent of Ollalieberry jam and black pepper. I found it imminently drinkable - not a wine you have to think about.

Slave to Fashion...er, Food and Wine

I wish that I were the kind of (mom, woman, person) who could just cook something for dinner and leave it at that. But no...my dinners have to be revelations, to dos, celebratory events, with the right ingredients and the right libations. The fact that I live to eat is not lost on me. Jenny Craig knows it, Weight Watcher's knows it, and so does every calorie-counting website known to man (and the woman who wants to lose weight). If I choose to eat at a restaurant, like the last couple of days in Savannah, it has to be the right one. I must choose the right restaurant, the right dish, and the right beverage to compliment it. This is not an easy task, and not a cheap one.

I do choose my restaurants partly by their wine lists. If every wine offered is something I see every day at the grocery store I am less likely to choose the restaurant - and the menu is probably pedestrian at best. Don't get me wrong, the fact that people choose wine over sweet tea or coffee is a victory! I am living in sweet tea land and I was born in the country of jello "salad" and coffee with every meal. That is not who I am. I am the Sherry with Tapas queen, the Margaritas with Fajitas Senora, and the Sake with Sushi aficionado. I must do what is called for - experience and sensation over sustenance any day.

My experience in Savannah was like that - a great Rum Libation with the Jerk Chicken at a little open-air restaurant on the beach on Tybee Island, the fantastic Soter Rose of Pinot Noir (in some silly little wine glasses they brought us) with my Low Country Seafood Boil at the Crab Shack, and a Syrah/Nero D'Alvola blend at Il Pasticcio with an Arugula and Artichoke Salad and Farfalle Pasta. We spent nothing on the hotel we stayed in but the dining was right up there with the architecture - unforgettable!

Real Women...Spit!

Drinking before noon, or even in the vicinity of noon is not advisable. Temporary euphoria gives way to remorse. Feeling tired and hung over before three o'clock sucks.

Yeah, sometimes, when the mood hits, the situation can be unavoidable, sometimes we even seek it out, knowing the consequences and ignoring what is to come. But, for those other times, when decorum is important, and you're dressed to impress, it may be wise to forget everything your mom told you and ... spit.
Don't get me wrong. I'm like the next gal who thinks spitting is a nasty habit. My husband doesn't do it. I wouldn't have married him if he did. But, when it comes down to holding on to that little bit of sobriety that may elude you at two o'clock in the afternoon, when your lunch partner is leaning on you to "just try a little sip" of a new and tasty "must have it" wine...put it in your mouth, but don't swallow. Act like a Sommelier - swish, aerate, let the wine pause on your palate. And then, oh so daintily, spit it out. Find a planter, a water glass (hopefully something opaque), or the wine bucket (the professionals do it) and let the wine go. This is much easier to do if you are at a wine function where there are spit buckets set up.  If that is the case look out for a spit bucket that is too full - that nasty backwash can jump up to get you. Use an individual one - usually a plastic cup. Okay, too much information. Forget the last line.

If this is too radical, maybe you just need to drink your weight in water - that works, too.

Hold on a minute, I think I've got a corkscrew here somewhere!

 

The Chatelaine - A really useful present
Laura: Oh, look ma' dear; See what a love of a chatelaine Edward has given me!

chat·e·laine (shăt'l-ān')
n.

1. 1. The mistress of a castle.
   2. The mistress of a large, fashionable household.
2. A clasp or chain worn at the waist for holding keys, a purse, or a watch.

Not all liver tastes the same...

If you had asked me if I liked liver when I was ten, or even twelve, I would have looked at you like you were crazy and yelled, definitively, "NO"! I might have even made a face, and said "ugh" or "yuck". Today, if you ask me, my mouth begins to water, and I think of all kinds of great "innard" dishes.  The difference is age, of course, and, more likely, preparation. You see, my childhood liver was flour-coated cow's liver sauteed with onions, not a dish that I would eat even now. Conversely, my adult liver experience includes Goose-liver pate and Rosemary skewered chicken livers grilled over hard woods and served atop toasts spread with balsamic-onion marmelade.

The point is this - not all preparations (or producers) are the same - you can't use the "seen one, seen 'em all" strategy for food...or wine. In fact this point was clearly made this weekend when I tasted a Semillon from a producer I had never heard of before. The wine is wonderful, in a word; crisp, with a clean, citrusy component and slightly round mouthfeel. ...And I had written Semillon off as anything but a blending grape in Sauvignon Blanc. I had said I didn't like it...at all. Happily, wrong again!
I will be drinking this wine all summer - Torbreck, Woodcutter's Semillon, from the Barossa Valley, Australia.
Say what you like, "ugh", or "yuck", or whatever, but keep tasting and trying. You might find a liver you like.