It has been one long and crappy week for this booze slinger, just seems to be one crud filled thing after another….and I’ll be damned if the freaking week isn’t even over yet…gotta work tomorrow, (insert slightly dramatic pouty face here). After receiving some extremely gut churning news this morning I tossed on an outfit that fit my mood, grey sweater, (Oh and never mind checking the forecast and it is going to be in the high 80’s…dammit) and headed into work sure that I was either going to be assaulted by bird excrement, or like get flipped off by some old dude with a “I survived Pearl Harbor” license plate….would be fitting for the week I have been having. “Well, at least there is wine at the end of this trip” was my ride to The Wine Country chant, always nice to have a light at the end of the tunnel right? Yeah, that was until I glanced at the sign in the window that announces our events….”Dammit!!” Shiraz and Syrah…domestic Syrah….shit.
I stood there at the front door of The Wine Country looking like a little kid that just got picked last for kickball…deflated and sad. I tossed my bag over my shoulder and chalked it up to just one more ladle-full of poop on the already steaming pile, unlocked the door and began preparing the store for the day’s events. Got all the lights on, machines whirling, music going and on my way to the restroom they caught my eye….little bits of leftovers from the Barolo class last night…for the love of all that is holy….hooray. Put my visit to the tinkle-la-torium on the back burner and made a beeline for the tasting bar, so what that it was 10 am and I hadn’t had so much as a piece of toast, I needed something beautiful, and those last little dregs were calling my name! Standing there letting the smell of rose petals, earth and leather wrap around my head I could feel the tension in my neck loosening just a touch, each deep sniff brought me such pleasure and made the sides of my tongue begin to water. I stood there, alone huffing Barolo and loving every minute of it, the wines were aromatically beguiling….finally ready to let that beautiful aroma grace my palate I took a sip….WHAM-O….freaking young Barolo and it’s fierce acidity, sucked that moisture right off my tongue and made my lips stick to my gums….whimper
Least I was not alone at my pity party, Merritt and her boyfriend were having a bit of a beef, so the two of us were pouty and wounded…least we could shoot each other, “This day sucks” glances and the other would nod in that “Tell me about it sister” kind of way. We tucked ourselves away from the masses, (no one likes a pouty faced wine girl) and chopped cheese for the tasting…the Shiraz and Syrah tasting. Sigh
Just before 1:00 I decided to run through the wines, this is a thing I force myself to do now…I used to pass but I need to taste those wines, it makes me better at my job and “because they are yucky” is not the answer anyone wants to hear when they ask me why I haven’t tasted something. I am often surprised by at least one, if not more of the wines and I walk away better for having the information….and today, well I was in need of a slight buzz. I went from number one to number two trying to conceal my gag face, goopy, stinky and just red…didn’t smell or taste anything like Syrah, so right on par with the way my whole week had been, (I have to insert here, there was one very high point that I will write about next….right after I kill Debbie Downer who seems to be writing this post).
The wines got better after the first two but I was still just not loving them, when I smelled the Qupe Syrah my spirits lifted a bit, nice violet aromas, tons of cracked pepper, it was a very well made wine that spoke of its varietal, maybe a touch too big for my personal consumption, but I wine I can feel really good about selling…yay! Then I got to the last wine….most expensive of the bunch, Mollydooker Blue Eyed Boy from Australia @ $54.99 a bottle. I poured…or tried to pour the goo in my glass but this slow trickle of sludge, like the crap I pull out of the drain sink in the back…see you thought my job was so glamorous didn’t you….plopped down in the center of my glass like pudding…I think I even let out a gasp. Almost black with a purple tinge around the syrupy edges, I spun it in the glass and I swear the wine glared at me like, “just who the hell do you think you are Missy, I’m napping here. Leave me alone before I bitch slap you” I pushed on, swirled the sloth of a wine around and buried my nose in the glass, “Chocolate, blackberry and a shitload of coconut” were my first comments. I spun the glass again and after getting the same aromatics I raised the glass to my lips, hoping no one would notice the look of terror on my face. I took a sip, “chocolate, blackberries and a shitload of coconut” it was like cake…ewe….ewe!!
I looked at Bennett who seemed to be feeling my pain, (I do tend to wear it all over my face) and said, “That is gawd awful. What the hell?” he let out a laugh and told me he knew I was going to hate that one, he was right. I stood there trying to figure out who could love such a wine and why they wouldn’t just eat a box of chocolate covered cherries, gives the same thick, gooey, ultra sweet effect and you can still drive after a box of chocolates…this was when he told me, “That is a Parker 95 point wine”…..perfect.
I’ve never understood Parker’s palate and after tasting that wine….I don’t want to! One of the worst wines I have ever tasted…you know, that wasn’t flawed. There were quite a few people that were bowled over by the wine, in that kind of setting, although I don’t happen to agree, I can see it…it’s massive in that gooey kind of way so it stands out, but I’ve got to wonder….away from the tasting setting, on the dinner table….how much of that could you drink?! I just don’t get it……and if getting it means I have to drink wines like Mollydooker Blue Eyed Boy…I don’t want to get it…ick