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.