Friday, May 24, 2013

It went straight to my boobs.

Does it sound vulgar? Yes. Is it the absolute truth? Completely. This wine, Kilikanoon Clare Valley Covenant Shiraz 2005, upon first sip, attacked my boobs in a most giggle worthy tingly manner. If I could make it sound more serious I would. I can't. Give it a shot. Decant it first and then take a sip. The bold flavour caresses your body in all the expert places. That's all I have to say really. Happy Memorial Day weekend to all my US women and Happy um, weekend to all those living up in Canada.

Celebrations are in order...

Since I last wrote, baby #1 was born. I thought to shut down the blog due to my surliness over all sorts of life facts. Mostly I was miffed that I couldn't enjoy wine. There was too much to do on a daily basis and, really, enjoying wine takes time. We did however learn to slow down and re-introduce wine and then BAM! I was pregnant again.

Oh Vino. Look what you do to me.

This being said, I just welcomed baby #2 to the world in January.

Lets talk about the wines we used to celebrate our babies births.
For our first, we celebrated with a 1982 Chateau Haut-Marbuzet Bordeaux.  Let me tell you the story of exactly why it brought me to tears.

If you've never been pregnant, or given birth, or experienced post pregnancy hormones, let me simply say, you are not in complete control of how you react to situations.  That may be putting it lightly.  But that's all I'll say about the matter.

Enter my parents and in laws. We're sitting around our kitchen table 2 weeks post delivery. My child (who's been in the NicU) is finally home and me and the hubby are itching to celebrate. We crack this bottle open and think, "who better to share with than the people who brought us into the world?".

We thought wrong.

First his parents were in a rush to head home (another state) so they quickly chugged their glasses and left (I'm not joking) and then my mum proceeded to make the most ignorant comment I've heard from her mouth (and man, I've heard some doozies):  I've had better. This isn't anything special.

That's when I burst into tears and told her to put the glass down.   I pretty much said I'll grab her some yellow tail I was planning on cooking with and she could choke on it. Yeahhh.

This bottle suited my palate like a joining of soulmates. However, I can't recall much about it. I know it was smooth, light, almost like a juice infused with the wind. Honestly, that's just how I remember it.  It's been 2 1/2 years. I lugged the empty bottle on our move to Canada from the states. Looking at it still makes me emotional.  It sounds crazy but it tasted like the wind on a summer afternoon, maybe an hour or two before sunset. The wind carrying the flavour of heat, grass, citrus, leaves, the sweat of grapes, and the knowledge that relief from heat is on its way and smiling about it.  And I'm being absolutely serious. There is nothing like drinking wine that has the wind recognized in it. Nothing.

When my mum told me she's had better, my husband looked at her incredulously and said in a firm, almost quiet tone, "no you haven't."   I still smile about it. It's not every day your significant other challenges his/her in-laws. And boy was he right. She hasn't.  

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

Italy, Pregnancy and Wine

There once was a newly married couple who planned a lovely trip to see the rolling hills and drink the wonderful wines of Tuscany, Italy. With Brunello di Montalcino, Chianti Classico and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano on their mind, they booked their plane tickets with smiles on their faces. Then the news that a third person would be accompanying them on this trip of a wine lovers fantasy came about, and the cruel truth settled over them like a dense fog: it would be torture for two of the three people to hang out in wine country when they couldn't drink.

Okay, so baby didn't think that but I'm sure that it would've mentioned it if it could.

Just got back from those rolling hills of the region of Tuscany in Italy. Made the most of my inability to drink and used the spittoon as much as I could. I have to say I have a newfound appreciation for the Sangiovese grape and the effect of terroir on flavour of wines.

Will update on each of the regions we popped into and wines we both (me and hubby) liked in the coming days.
Didn't really like Vino Nobile
LOVED Brunello
Liked Rosso
And well, Chianti is so well known in North America, I could've already told you I like them.

Tell you more about them soon! Ciao!!

Saturday, July 17, 2010

here's the dil.

Last I posted, I wasn't 100% sure, but now I am. Sigh. I haven't been posting because I haven't been drinking. I'm pregnant. HOWEVER. I'm going to Italy with my hubby in a few weeks, on sort of a baby-moon, and I'm going to, I don't know, figure out if it's polite in Italy to spit after tasting.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

when food ruins wine.

I know I've written about garlic blowing my palate out of the water, it happened again. Garlic and I have a precarious relationship, one marred when a certain beautiful liquid enters the room. I've tried and tried to make them friends. It hasn't worked. This means that I'll henceforth shun my friend garlic for my bestie: wine.

Cyril's Cuvee. Chappellet. 2006. A nose that made me shiver, and taste that made me purr.

Enter gyro dinner. So first, let me announce, it's not really the best pairing...uh. Not at all. But I didn't think I'd kill my palate after eating some tzatziki with it. Needless to say. I was grumpy for the rest of a few minutes until I got over myself.

Advice to you all. Don't do it.

Monday, May 24, 2010

truffle salt: shi shi foo foo or the next best wine pairing?

Backtrack to California, Valentine's weekend: I was subjected to pairing wine with a slice of Dubliner cheese with a sprinkling of truffle salt. It was an interesting way to pair an overpriced salt...or so I thought. The pairing (okay, this was at the 12th or 13th winery of the day) was genius, price point aside.

You ever have an "obsessive dream" where you dream about well, a type of food, wine, clothing, haircut and you wake up and you know you have to have it? Maybe it's the woman in me talking, but 3 months later, I was dreaming of truffle salt. I had to have it. Cringing when I saw the price, I closed my eyes, bought some tennis balls to get the shipping free and voila, I now have truffle salt at hand.

Let me tell you - truffle salt smells like dirty feet. Don't listen to ANYONE try to tell you anything different. Actually, the stink is closer to feet that were perhaps unwashed after a jaunt in a swamp combined with a trek through the amazon in construction boots. Yes. It's that bad. You have a sensitive nose, you'll agree, it's just plain devastating how disgusting it is. I don't know how I missed that point when we were tasting (recall, 12 or 13 wineries came before) but I did. If you are faint of nose, maybe pinch it when you crack open a jar but don't let the smell deter you. It is a WONDERFUL pairing with cheese and almost any red wine. I'm not drinking anything special at the moment, actually it's Black Box Shiraz (until the husband comes home and we can share something spectacular), but the little jar of stinkiness opens the palate (it's salt recall) and the truffle comes through, holding hands with even the cheapest of wine.


Friday, May 21, 2010

steak and shake...

1. what is red
2. shaken
3. and 91 points on the wine spectator list?!?


Well done you.

Tonight we're doing steak and shake....the real way.