Drunk Corking

Suenarita and I had a rather serious conversation the other day.  Well, as serious a conversation as was possible under the circumstances, considering that she was on the way to visit her friend, who had scored some Madonna concert tickets and was taking her to the show.   It was also the eve of that election everyone's been talking about.   But it was the giddy circumstances that brought us to a serious subject -- how to prevent a travesty that nearly always happens when folks start celebrating and drinking too much wine:  Drunk corking. 

You know you've done it.  'Fess up, we all have.  It happened to me just a couple of weeks ago, during one of those regular rantfests we held this fall, otherwise known as the Presidential debates. 

I had my usual wine-swillin', food-makin' posse over to watch the last debate.  We were in the kitchen, cooking up a storm, when we quickly consumed the entire bottle of Hanna Sauvignon Blanc.  We moved on to the Angeline Pinot Noir.  And the debate hadn't even started yet.  We dragged our homemade pizzas into the parlor, empty wine glases in hand.  And I started rummaging in the wine cabinet.

Slim pickings.  There were a few sad bottles of some random Austrian stuff, left by our second au pair.  A bottle of Two-Buck Chuck, presented to me as a joke.  And, shining like a light somewhere near the top, a jewel:  2005 Domaine du Grapillon D'or 1806 Gigondas.   "What the hell," I thought.  We drank it.    And it was very, very wrong. 

Wrong, you ask?  How can consuming a delicious blend of Syrah and Grenache with an elegant cedar and cigar box aroma, as well as a rich, full fruity taste, from a winery that's been in the same family since 1806, be wrong?  Especially when you're drinking it with fresh homemade pizza and even fresher friends? 

Because we were tipsy, that's why.  And because we'd dulled our senses with the Hanna and the Angelyne (not to mention all those anchovies that were supposed to be on the pizza).  We lost half the experience, because we didn't drink the great wine first. 

Suenarita and I are working on some devices -- perhaps an iPhone application that calls you when you're about to cork that bottle of The Prisoner after downing two or three 750's of Turning Leaf.  The application will shout "Don't do it!," give you an electric shock, and then hide the corkscrew.  We're also working on a little alarm that you can attach to your wine storage unit that will emit a very high-pitched whistle and make your dog start howling when you yank out that bottle of 1995 Heitz Cellars Bella Oaks Cabernet that was given to you by Belle Rhodes herself, after you've consumed a whole bunch of cheap champagne.  (Yes, dear readers, I actually did this.  When I was packing up my house in Napa in 2001.  And those of you who drank it with me:  you know who you are.)   

We ended our conversation sadly, knowing that the urge to drunk cork can strike any time, anywhere, without warning. 

Friends don't let friends drunk cork.  Just say no, y'all. 

Comments

[Quinn]

It's a great topic Angela--and good reminder of why 2 Buck Chuck and its ilk aren't really such good buys--who want's to drink crappy wine anyway? Now, back in the old days, when Freixenet in the black bottle was $10 delivered to the table with 2 flutes in the Greenleafe, and the relationship between quantity and quality was different, cheap wine made sense.
I bought a package of yellow dots at the office supply store and put a dot on the end of capsules of bottles meant to be consumed "with caution". It makes you think twice. They work great with an iPhone.

[Angela Wilson Gyetvan]

Oh, yes, I'd forgotten about Freixenet at the Greenleafe. That was about the time you threw that dinner where we ate the sediment out of that bottle of that '62 Barolo, wasn't it? Ahh, those were the days ...