A 2005 Chateau Caronne Ste. Gemme is the Wonderbra of wine. Once unhooked and able to breath, no time is wasted unfolding into a deliriously lucid fluency of cassis, cocoa berry and Early-Girl tomato. On the dry scale, this wine is a desert and loaded with harmonious tannins that swathe the tongue and the roof of your mouth; licking a velvet curtain might just get you the same mouthfeel. Meanwhile, this wine provides lift and enhancement and pushes up like all get out. One touch from a talented hand is all it takes to release this cultural lexicon ‘look me in the eye and tell me that you love me’ in that billboard sort of way. Although looks can be deceiving, for less then $20 a squeeze, who’s complaining?
Where? Blaise & April’s house
“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.
‘Pooh!’ he whispered.
‘Nothing,’ said Piglet, taking Pooh’s paw.
‘I just wanted to be sure of you.'”
~Winnie the Pooh works
In memory of Port, a very special member of the Dunham Cellars
1994 – 2008
Last night, we pulled a 1998 Penfolds Bin 389, and that’s all she wrote (she thought). This wine cuts to the chase, French kisses you like it means it, and bites down gently as you try to pull away. Choices? Not many. So surrender to the essence of this mere-mortal juiciness, because your only destination is to go deeper. Enveloped by layers of licorice spice, a dark, velvet plum dangles in a jammy essence that fills you up. With an all-over balance and placid persistence, it’s intriguing and inspiring. Huh? (breath inhaled sharply) Do I detect a hint of hesitation? Just a tested tease? NO, in fact, it’s all part of the intelligent design. Cleverly astute, it keeps you on the brink of hunger, thirsting for more and testing your resolve. Tease yes, taunt no. Good morning, sunshine.
Last night we drank a Beringer, Knights Valley, 2005 Alluvium. It opened with a bang of high hopes along with high acid, chunky tannins and a smokin’ sizzle in the mouth. Grab a hose, I think I’m on fire!
Perhaps, it needed time, we concluded, and gladly put it down to do its business. This wine was high-on-charm-and-profile, but where was the VAVAVOOM! It glided in confidently talking on its phone, and motioned to the seat across from me. Feeling generous, I obliged hoping the call would drop. Instead, it proceeded to chat up its match.com date candidate while gazing across the table at me.
“Hey, can I send you an email at this address?” it said in the tone of Chuck Barris. “Well you know that’s the only kind I’d send, so I better not. (pause, smirk)
I pressed my nose deeper into the glass and inhaled hard. The fruit seemed to step up – a little black plum, blackberry, dark violet. Hope was on its way. But a quick taste revealed a menacing hairball in the middle of my tongue. Damn, still there. Husband? Yes, his searing hairball was there too and melting slowly. The short glimpse of fruit was gone, slammed shut like a sea anemone after you stick your finger in it. I conceded: ‘Thanks for coming folks, but the shows over. You can go home.’
“Who is Little Feet?” my husband asked as he dropped his drawers to the floor preparing for bed. “Little Feet is a friend of Star’s,” I said, glimpsing up from my magazine in a Carol Brady sort of way. “Huh,” he said with that ‘I’m puzzled and feel left out’ tone. “She’s never mentioned him before.”
Star is our Collie. Though known to be at the top of the ‘intelligent dogs’ list, Star has not yet mastered the art of talking, so we’re often left in the dark when it comes to her relationships. Or maybe she’s just aloof, probably both.
Little Feet lives down the street at the drug dealer’s house. Admittedly, we don’t know if they’re “actual” drug dealers – but they seem to have dealing sorts of tendencies: lots of junk and car parts in the yard, people waiting on the side of their house at odd times of the night, etc. — thus, we feel pretty comfortable with the moniker. Little Feet was kind of a scruffy, scraggily dog, but had a big smile and a nice spirit.
Such is the life of a dog’s owner – of course there’s always wine.