Every Monday, discover new wines, regions, and ways to understand this fermenting sea.
Munching Vidal Blanc on Keuka Lake, New York
Tag Archives: merlot
Wow. Hi internet, I missed you. Toddler distractions notwithstanding, let us turn our sails back toward the wine dark sea. Many leagues ago, I started to review Balkan wines my mother-in-law smuggled back with her. The tannic, native grape, Vranak made for some puckered and challenged palates (read here). But, how does Bosnia-Herzegovina handle the stereotyped grape of plush pleasure and ease: Merlot? Continue reading
Last week, a 2009 Bordeaux pissed us off. In desperation, only food could tame its barking tannins. But this week, we flip the script and flip the river bank. We have a Left Bank, Haut-Médoc: famed for Cabernet blends and alluvial soils.
Ready your glass and soul for a Bordeaux that pleases right out of the gate (hopefully): Continue reading
With our house a block of ice, I turn to southern climes for sunnier respite. This manic Monday’s glass travels to Paso Robles AVA: California’s hot hills of heritage Zinfandel vines and huge Syrah wines. Continue reading
Winter closes in. For sad psychological reasons, I now don jackets or sweaters to enjoy chilled whites. I suppose a red will not hurt. Also, we have guests and pizza for dinner. So, a modern Italian seems apt. I rummage around in my crawl space. Why not open an $100 Chianti? Erm….no.
I have lost all grip on reality. My job allows me to try and collect fancy, expensive things. The cost to retail has become my reference point. A wine that costs a shop $25 ends up $33 to $40 on the shelf for the unwashed masses. So all I remember is that I spent $25. Or worse, I was given it. Continue reading
For tonight’s Halloween entertainment, we chose 1965’s The Creeping Terror:[youtube https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aR0sf8PfAMQ&w=560&h=315%5D
Just imagine, some gaffer forgot to turn on the mic for 80% of the film. Thus, dull narration lays over scenes like a wet blanket, telling us “and then Martin said he was worried and asked to open the door, which he did”, followed by a jump cut shag carpet crawling for hours across a field. Terror.
Drinking is the only answer. Continue reading