skip to main |
skip to sidebar
Okay yeah, it’s official…I want the holidays to be done already. There has been no merriment, no gushing of emotion and joy, this season has felt perfunctory, down-right obligatory and I for one hate that crap. I’m not one of those, “toss a grin on and smother your discomfort” kinda chicks. When and if I am pissy, you’re gonna know it…I like wear it on my face and junk, but working retail during the holidays has forced me to perform this, this face cracking, fake ass task…the grin and bear it one, and I have felt every ounce of bullshit weighing me down. Counting down the days, I’m simply counting down the days at this point…hell, we even tossed the poor tree that sacrificed its life, you know…for the festivities and all, in the garbage days before New Year’s Eve. The reason cited, “It was kind of blocking the TV” um, happy birthday Jesus, now move the hell over because I can’t watch the Laker game.
I know I’m not alone; my little Grinchy post assured me that we are all kind of in the same boat this year. It snuck up, was in our face and now it’s pretty much over..just a couple more days and we can look to a new year, a clean start, a do-over. Damn, just writing that, just mentioning that 2009 is about to be swept under the rug, well…it made me feel just a touch better. 2009 ended up feeling like one of those survival years, like all of us were just dropping our heads, busting our asses and doing our best to just make it through. Nothing tragic, nothing horrible really, but nothing really codifying or unifying either. Even the swearing in of our first black, and wicked cool president couldn’t keep things bubbling, sure we were all fired up for a bit but that goddamn reality sunk in and dag-nab-it if we weren’t right back in the, funk. Tugging that feeling along all year inspires little more than an exhausted sigh, stunning that shoppers didn’t turn out in droves right?
The shop was pretty slow yesterday, left me plenty of time to clean up the online store and what not but the sound of my nails clicking away on my keyboard only reminded me that there were no customers in need of my help…so depressing. I got home and found that my little funky mood had followed me. The boys were making dinner, I had nothing pressing to handle and I could just chill….um, being alone with your thoughts when you are in a crappy mood, well it just stinks. I pouted a bit but tired of my own whining and after pouring myself a rather sizable glass of wine I shuffled to the bathroom….a bath, a hot bath would help me clear my head and my somewhat heavy heart.
The hot water on my bare skin made me suck in my breath, but in that, “Oh God that feels good” kind of way. I sat there letting my skin turn pink, scooping handfuls of water into my cupped hands, watching the steam dance between my fingers, letting the warm liquid trickle down my wrists as I splashed water over my shoulders. Big glass of Pinot Noir wearing, “girl in the tub” droplets that puddled at the base of the glass, Dave Matthews, (Google alert) crooning words of love, rebellion and want in my ears, “Red is the color, of the sun with my eyes closed, I can still taste you…and I will again”. I felt like a jackass for being such a freaking baby about everything and asked myself the question I always do in times like these… “Is this the worst thing?” and the answer was, as it always is, Not even close.
“I’m five months pregnant” those were the last words that escaped my terrified lips just seconds before I was ever hit by a boyfriend. That hit was the last time I was ever hit as a girlfriend. I was 17, stuck in a relationship with a man that treated me horribly….had never hit me before, never even threatened to before, but went out of his way to make me feel like the most disgusting human on the planet. Now before you go feeling all sad for me keep in mind that I allowed this, listened as he told me he was embarrassed to be seen with me in public, made fun of my misspellings in my love letters and told me that he preferred a certain sexual position because he didn’t have to look at my face. I took all of that and as horrible and pathetic as that is, I think I was seeking something, trying to ignite something within me…
That first hit and accusation of, “trying to ruin his life” was in fact exactly what I needed to pull myself out of the self loathing goo that I found myself submerged in. Trying to ruin your life?! I hated him, think I always hated him, but at that second, looking at his gapped tooth face seething hate and rage at me….I knew, I deserved more. I knew it would be my life that would be up heaved by having a baby, my mother that would not speak to me for months and ultimately, my pride that would keep me from asking this sorry son of a bitch for anything. My son was born two months later and his fight to be here, well it inspired a fight in me unlike anything I had ever known.
Ten years, ten years after that first hit and I was still being held hostage by hate and pure evil. The kind of evil that would track someone down, smack a bat against a woman’s face and body in broad daylight, the kind of evil that would run her car off the road, break into her home and remove all the doorknobs and locks…leaving a calling card scrawled in lipstick on her bathroom mirror, “You’re a selfish bitch and you will pay”…I stood there shaking, terrified and not knowing what to do while reading that message. I knew I was afraid, hell I had spent ten years being afraid….didn’t go out, rarely left the house for things that were not work related and spent every second waiting for that other shoe to drop, and that’s when it hit me…I cannot stop any of this. Didn’t know when or if it was coming, couldn’t stop it if I did…so why the hell was I spending whole days, months, years worrying about what might happen?
That final night, (final for the me that was paralyzed with fear) I thought about the women in my life, my mother, my grandmother…both beautiful women, smart women full of raw talent, (my grandmother could sing, my mother could draw…I can do neither dag-nab-it) but they spent their whole lives being miserable and afraid, lived that way and died that way. I knew I wanted more for myself, more for my son, more for the people whose lives I was a part of…that was the night that I decided that I would no longer live in fear. No more sitting at home waiting for the bad shit to show up….it would or it wouldn’t, me putting my life on hold or living within the confines of my home wasn’t going to stop it. No the only thing my self imposed lockdown was doing was stopping me.
As I washed the evil lipstick note from my mirror and waited for the maintenance people to come install new knobs and locks I made myself a promise, “I will not spend the rest of my life….however long it might be, in fear nor do I want to wake up one day and realize that I had a life full of Wednesday nights”. That night set in motion the life that you all see now, the life full of laughter, love, passion and slightly wild behavior. I often hear things like, “Wow, you’re crazy” or “You drank all that on a Tuesday night?” in varying tones from admiration to fear and all I can respond is, “I would rather hang it all up, sleep the rest of my life away than live in someone else’s idea of what MY life should be”
Sitting in the tub reminded me of my promise, reminded me that a year that was less than stellar, is not the worst that can happen….not even close. This year is nearly over, there is light at the end of the tunnel and today, while less than perfect, is a brand new chance to live in my life, laugh in my life and love in my life….I’m gonna.
Tonight I will bid a farewell to 2009, try and remember all the amazing moments I spent with it, toast its demise with R.H. Coutier Grand Cru Brut and 2000 Camille Saves Grand Cru Brut, and tomorrow morning I will shuffle my more than likely, hungover ass to the fridge and pop a bottle of Godme Grand Cru Brut Rose. I’ll raise my glass, crack my slightly evil grin and say, “Okay 2010…what ya got?!”
Happy New Year to you all
Thank you for sharing your time with me
Now get away from your damn computer
Drink something amazing
Love
Laugh
Live
So I allow very few photos to be taken of me…like ever. Hate it and most of the pictures that are out there have, at the very least my hand trying its best to cover my ugly mug but, I just had to not only allow this picture but I even requested it.
Monday night is a new sort of date night around these parts, Monday night is when me and my much adored neighbor, (the one that many of you have been reading about for like…years) have a standing dinner date. We go to Mario’s, (divey Mexican place across the street) for dinner. Tyler and I manage to sit together and somehow end up getting in trouble each and every week. It started with cars, we would crash his toy cars into the basket of tortilla chips, when that got old we started with the wet napkin fights…my personal favorite. This is where Tyler and I soak our napkins in our water glasses, wring them out and lob them at one another. This game would have been fine if my little buddy didn’t have such a wicked throwing arm….damn kid tried to toss a wet one at me and ended up hitting the purse of a woman three tables over. Like I said, we get in trouble a lot.
I look forward to these dinners like you cannot even imagine. I spend so much time being like, in charge of stuff, controlled and dunno…grown or something, this hour or two with the cutest kid ever just knocks all the fancy off me, all the serious, all the pressure….I get to play and I love it, I need it.
When we first started going out he was shy, it would take most of the dinner hour for him to come around and actually play with me…now, well now I get gummy, peanut butter and jelly sandwich fingerprints all over me the second we sit down. The new fun game is pinching my sides, dropping his sizeable melon on my shoulder and, “I want to give you a hug” comments…um, can you say giant-goo-filled-puddle? His new fascination with grabbing my boobs and telling me I should get naked, well…..guess that is the way it starts right? Somehow with him that kind of comment just makes me laugh, wrap my arms around his tiny frame and I find myself hunched over in our cramped little booth giggling. That blonde dome and big blue eyes giggling right along with me….love, I simply love this kid.
So for those of you that have been following the Sam and Tyler saga, we are still bestest friends, he draws me pictures, makes me laugh, soothes my wine filled head and not only lets me be me…he seems to like dig me and junk. As for me….well, I’m impervious to his big-eyed, funny faced charms…and I am so full of shit, he wrecks me.
US
I was up way too early the other morning watching some, on-at-the-ass-crack, morning program on MSNBC and they were discussing the most regifted holiday gift…wine, it was wine. At first this sent a little pang to my heart, both because I hate to hear any negative slant on my beloved beverage and as someone that works in a retail wine store, during hash economic times no less, well we don’t want to hear anything that may discourage people from coming to us for their holiday gift giving needs, but something interesting happened the longer I listened. One of the talking heads was saying that she often regifts bottles of white wine she’s given, (don’t even get me started on those red wines only people…um, does not make you cool or more knowledgeable, makes you short sighted and drinking like a newbie. I hear that and I already know what kind of wine, “drinker” I’m dealing with…crusty. These are the same people that adore Champagne but hate white wine…um, stop it. Like the guy that won’t drink Sancerre, (white wine being fruity and for the ladies and all) but loves Paso Zinfandel…dude, shall we check the residual sugars? But I digress) and the guy she was talking to said that he often regifted red wines as he prefers white.
Now aside from my head splitting apart from the whole, “who drinks what” thing, something occurred to me, so if you gift a wine to someone that does not like that type of wine, would you rather them drink it because you want them to, or help them solve a gift giving problem but using the gift to please another? Is not the ultimate goal to please? In this kind of regifting situation you have pleased two people, the receiver that was in a gift giving bind and the eventual recipient of the bottle you purchased…that’s all good right? I’ve had people come in the shop and say things like, “I want to get them a bottle of wine but I don’t want them to just give it away”…never quite understood why people are so concerned about what happens once their gift is given, seems a tad controlling and just a smidge arrogant to me…the way in which they receive pleasure from your gift should be of no interest, just that did in fact enjoy it right? I know I have, "enjoyed" giving away a bottle or two of Rombauer Chardonnay I was given....no guilt in letting it whither on my kitchen counter, placing it in the hands of someone I know will adore it...well, hell that's a win win for me!
So it just so happens I was given two amazing gifts of wine this year, a case of older French wine and a bunch of older, cult-ish California wines. The thing that struck me about these gifts was that they were more than bottles of wine, they were treasures that had been saved, tucked away, cherished. Wines that someone had purchased, (or was given for all I know) and that they had laid down, resisted and waited to savor….time, within my gifted boxes of wine I was given the gift of time. What’s the going rate on time and patience these days? Um, I’m going to have to say priceless. The fact that two people felt their time and patience was worth sending to me…um, speechless, left me speechless. How does one say thank you for such a thing?
So as I sat fondling my bottles, (yes…yes I did, total dork I know) I started thinking of when, where and with whom I might share these newly acquired treasures. See the thing is, a bottle of wine is more than a beverage, it’s an experience. The right bottle, on the right night, with the right person/people and that bottle can be elevated to legendary status. The, “Oh my Gawd do you remember that wine” and “If it hadn’t been for that bottle of (insert name of super special wine here) I would have never, (insert whatever naughty behavior here)”.
Even if the bottle becomes one of those, pop while cooking dinner after a long day bottles. The way that first sip can wiggle down your spine, soothe each and every little ache, steal your thoughts from the mundane daily doings, coax you into a mellow, soft shouldered state….a seduction of sorts. Touching you, caressing, dancing across your day weary palate…bringing much needed, much longed for pleasure after a long hard day at work….um, would you really give a crap where the person that was responsible for this….feeling, got the bottle? I for one wouldn’t, just the fact that they saw fit to share it with me….
Buy them, tuck them away, share them, give them away but know that whoever is lucky enough to eventually pop those corks will think you’re quite generous and be very grateful for the….experience.
Okay so I said I would not have time to post but I find myself wide awake, (even though I woke to find our coffee pot had passed away over night….sigh, so sad. Sad for the poor little pot and also very sad for this caffeine needing retail worker on what is bound to be a long busy day) quite early this Christmas Eve morning and felt compelled to share a story that a customer shared with me.
“Can I help you find anything or answer any questions for you?” I asked the somewhat tallish man standing in my Burgundy department. “I’m in heaven right now. This is heaven” said the loudish English accent. As I began to walk away he shouted, “You have a second to hear a story?” to which I replied, “Absolutely”.
The Story
So I was being totally lazy, just trying to save myself a trip over the hill, so I stopped in at, (Gonna leave the name of the store out here. I’ve gone after them before and I don’t want this to sound like some petty grievance against one store but, it rhymes with Chevre No) Store X. I walk in and ask a clerk where the White Burgundy section is. The guy looks at me and says, “I don’t know anything about wine” I told him that was okay and asked that he just show me to the White Burgundy department. This poor guy leads me around the store, he was just reading the signs…I could have done that. Anyway the guy stops at the Burgundy sign and proudly tells me, “Here ya go” and I look down to see a small sampling of Red Burgundy, “No I was looking for White Burgundy” I told him. He looked painfully confused and said, “Wait here, let me get our sommelier”. So I waited a bit and was sort of thinking it was cool that a store like Store X, (Chevre No) would have a sommelier on staff…then the guy comes back and says, “Our sommelier is on break but she told me to tell you that they aren’t really making that anymore”.
I shook my head, got in my car and drove over the hill. I was being lazy and ended up wasting my time. I just want to thank you and your store for stocking all these antiques so I can find a decent bottle of wine when I want one. That and talk to someone that does indeed know wine and more often than not, even have a personal relationship with the winemakers.
End Story
“Um, I may just have to share that story” I told my English friend, “It’s yours” he replied. The gentleman went on to tell me that he was looking for a bottle of White Burgundy in the $50.00 price range for a gift. I took him to Philippe Colin, explained that I preferred Philippe’s wines over his brother Bruno’s. We talked about explosive fruit and gentle oak and the guy says, “See here is the problem with coming here, I have to have one for myself now”. We started walking to the register, my English friend with his two bottles of Philippe Colin Chassagne-Montrachet in his hands, me telling him how shocked I was by his story and he stops me and says, “Hey why don’t you show me a Pommard as well”.
I would like to take a moment to thank Chevre No for helping me turn a $50.00 sale into a $150.00 one and for making one of our customers realize that it is always worth it to make the drive up the hill.
Not sure how much time I will have to post between now and Christmas, things at The Wine Country are really starting to crank; eating lunch at three o clock, doing the, “Man I gotta pee” dance while helping customers pick out their gifts and party wines. Running to answer phones, track packages and restock decimated case stacks. It is really beginning to feel like Christmas now, not the holiday cheer I was aching for but the pace is most definitely, “Seasonal”. Top all of that with the fact that my sweetest thing ever, son is flying home this evening and I doubt there will be time for me to post…not that anyone is going to be reading blogs anyway.
Loyal reader, often commenter and dare I say, sweetly supportive Thomas busted my chops on the last post, told me that I was blogging wrong by not compiling a, “Best of” list, and you know what….he’s right. I am blogging wrong, but I have been doing it wrong from the get so y’all, (nod to my U of L son and my boys in the south) have grown accustomed by now I’m sure. I think I must be reading wrong too because I checked out a bunch of other blogs….well, I intended to but then I remembered, I don’t give a rat’s ass, so I stuck to the blogs that I already read. I saw that Ron Washam stepped out of the HoseMaster role and took time to thank everyone for reading, Tom Wark made a list of dudes he’d like to have as drinking buddies, (donde the chicks Tom?!) Alice had a contender for wine of the year post but for the most part no one was making lists, not about wine anyway. So being the joiner that I am, I’m not going to either…sorry Thomas. But check me out dude, not one curse word yet!!
Now before I go any further I would like to take a second to bow my goofy head to all my silent readers, I have a stat counter folks so I know you are out there reading. I am so grateful to all of you for clicking on my silly ass blog, giving a shit, (dammit…sorry Thomas) about what I have to say, and for bumping along with me in this silly life of mine. I am truly humbled by your presence; sure I wish you would chime in once in awhile but my weekly report assures me you are there and that is beyond good enough for me. Thank you so much and I wish you all a very Merry Christmas.
Now onto my list, I approached this like I do mashed potatoes and peas…mashed them together. I took Ron’s idea, (was it not you Love that said great writers steal?) Tom’s idea and a sprinkling of Alice’s recommending wines for people idea, and came up with my own kind of list.
What I Would Like To Drink With My Regular Readers
Benito & Huber Dornfelder. I know you love wacky wines kid and this has got to be one of the craziest wines I have come across in a very long time. It is NOT just Dornfelder dude, this offering from Norman Huber is one of those wines that makes you say, “I have never seen or tasted anything like that before”…that, that makes me think of you.
Vicki & Domaine de Montille Pommard Rugiens. Girlie, you gots it real bad for aromatics…I do to, not pointing a finger…and this wine would surely inspire and continue to drive that passion for Burgundy that you already have. I could just see us now, spending hours with our nose in the glass before ever taking a sip.
Michael & Icy Cold Martinis…Many Of Them. Now Michael I was going to say, Camus Bruchon Savigny-les-Beaune, (yes, I’m cheating by listing 2) but seeing as we are like The Wonder Twins and junk…cocktails, many cocktails for us, followed by a worshiping to the patron saint of hangovers. When I think of meeting you and having a drink, I think we are going to be nothing but trouble.
Marcia & O’Shea Scarborough Cabernet Sauvignon. As elegant and charming a Cabernet as I have had in a very long time. A smart, almost regal wine with a bit of spice…..
Charlie Olken & Older California Pinot Noir. I would love to learn from you, have you walk me through the wine, explain to me what it was when it was younger…how it changed, teach me. That, that would be wicked cool. That or Pastis just so I could see you make an, “Ewe!” face.
Ron Washam & Comte Lafon Montrachet. First of all there is something ironic about The HoseMaster and Samantha Sans Dosage drinking such a wine..kinda makes me chuckle just thinking of it. Secondly I would love to be able to share something like this with you, one of the most amazing wines I have ever tasted with one of the most amazing people I know..sounds perfect. Plus it’s, (White Burgundy that is) the only thing I ever heard you gush about here…you know, other than me!
John Kelly & Comte de Vogue Chambolle-Musigny…At Ma Cuisine. Had to add the place because of our shared love of Beaune. It’s almost scary how alike we are and I know sharing this bottle of wine with you, in Beaune would either tilt the earth on its axis, (both of us in the same place at the same time) or inspire a night of uber indulgence that would undoubtedly land us in a bar killing a bottle of our beloved licorice flavored beverage.
Jess & H. Billiot Cuvee Julie. We have talked about Champagne together, had drinks and wine together but never shared a bottle of Champagne…what better way to kick off what I hope to be a long friendship and years of bubble drinking than my Champagne of The Year?
Thomas & Cavallotto Barolo. Dunno, something about you just screams Barolo to me…noble, slightly unyielding, interesting, firm but focused…yup, Barolo.
Richard & Allemand Cornas. I feel like you have a real love for Rhone varietals and would adore sharing with you one of the wines that flipped my switch for Syrah…
Nancy & Jobard Meursault. One of the first white wines I remember you flipping for was the Chappele Meursault and that was back when you were all, “I prefer red wine” and now, now you sell Riesling for a living! I think the refinement and reserved nature of Jobard’s wine would be perfect for us girlie.
Amy & All Of The Above…Anywhere & Everywhere. You and me girlie, we have shared so many amazing wine moments together and they are not even close to being over…cannot wait for the next one!
Now I have some other regular readers, The Wine Whore, k2, Anonymous, (Anonymi?) and the like but I have yet to get a real feel for what to drink with them yet, but to any and all of my beloved readers I do thank you from the very bottom of my very full heart and wish you all a very Merry Christmas or Happy Holiday or whatever it is we are supposed to say.
Kisses & Hugs,
Your Faithful Wine Slinger
Samantha Dugan
Okay I must be a Grinch, I am so not in the holiday spirit this year. My best friend moving to another planet…aka Texas, (if I have any readers in Texas, it’s a lovely place…really) our beloved mascot Bear, (Amy and Sexy Bitch’s one-eyed Retriever) being diagnosed with Cancer and working like a seriously insane schedule, I’m just not feeling it at all this year. This blows because I love this season, love the lights, the music, the energy and yes, as a retailer…I love the flurry of cash that is being tossed at us. I wait for this all year long and here I am feeling all, “Meh” this year. Cannot figure it out. Personally I have had one hell of a year…I was offered a wicked cool job, in a town that I adore, but passed it up to stay here with the people I love, the people I need, for a job that I love and simply cannot imagine leaving by choice. I had a major breakthrough with a friendship I had been pouring over for years, I found something that I had been missing…waiting for, for like ever, my blog readership, (there is that fancy word again) grew, all my old friends and a bunch of wicked cool new ones. Then there was the “Fancy Pants” crowd that showed up; Charlie Olken, Alice Feiring, Ron Washam, that tree guy, Alder somethin’…I even think Steve Heimoff and Tom Wark showed up this year…dropping, I am so name dropping, helps to picture a deep knee plunge with a saucy snap of my fingers here.
Maybe it’s the hours I have been, and will be working…I see nothing ahead of me but scanners, tissue paper, lines, price tags and panicked faces…it’s getting to me this year people. So tonight I found myself with little to do, I am like saving my energy for work and stuff so I am off the, “let’s go do something” list, that in itself is enough to push me further down my, “woe is me” rabbit hole. It’s eight o clock, on a Saturday night, (okay this is me being a tad dramatic because I kinda hate going out on Saturday nights…all those freaking newbies and people looking to hook up and stuff, yuck…but still) and I am bloody exhausted, in a T-shirt and my ugly gray sweatshirt, (damn, that’s two ugly sweatshirts in two posts, maybe I need to stay out of Target) my most favorite baggy jeans, drinking a glass of Sancerre worshiping at the altar of sloth and lazy indulgence…um, and maybe redundancy.
I got some stuff done, I figured out that I prefer the Progressive girl to the Geiko lizard, reaffirmed that I am over the Food Network, and did my best to annoy the shit out of my facebook friends…posting shit like, “Samantha Dugan thinks lotion is a gift from the Gods…or fancy pants lab dorks, either way a gift” is sure to make some folks click whatever button or tab it takes to make me go away…hey, maybe I should have figured out how to do that, some of those “friends” just bug. None of the real people but those fan page fuckers, ugh! I did have to laugh when I was alerted that NyQuil has a fan page…NyQuil. The message said, “Become a member of the NyQuil Nation, now that sounds like a fun bunch, sign me right the hell up. See all the important junk I got handled on my, “save your energy” night.
The one upshot of the evening? This freaking gorgeous Sancerre! I’ve been doing my part to tighten the household budget…well aside from my December Champagne habit…been loading up on wines that are $12.00 and under for my nightly drinking. There are tons of fun little wines in that price point and I have been happily sucking them back every night without much of an issue. Oh sure I always want something a little finer, more complex and interesting, but these wines do what they were intended…they please my palate, go with my food and ultimately give me a nice little buzz. Things like Chidaine Touraine, Veramonte Sauvignon Blanc, La Cabotte Cotes du Rhone, Piron Beaujolais Villages, these wines thrill for their tiny little price tags and like I said, I have been enjoying more than my fair share for months now, but sometimes…sometimes you just need more, ache for more than comfortable and gulpable. Tonight, tonight was one of those nights.
2007 Domaine des Vieux Prunieres Sancerre, ($21.99) So as you see not exactly breaking the bank at $22.00 but more than I have been spending on a, “loafing on the couch night” kind of wine. The second I poured the wine I could see the difference, even the way it landed in the glass, (a little slower to splash up the sides, settling on itself with a calm dignity) let me know that this wine bore a finer bloodline, pedigree. I could smell the minerality long before I buried my nose in the glass; it was so intense I could smell it just by spinning the glass on my kitchen counter. On the palate it was cold, wet stones, flint, pink grapefruit and lemon zest, all with a full mouth feel…the wine spread wide across my tongue but the brilliant acidity seemed to almost constrict or pull the coating of wine right off my palate….which of course made me want, made me ready for, more. So guess what this slothy girl did? In the words of the noble Sir Charles Olken, "you can bet that sweet ass of yours" I did...I went back for more.
“Um, are you wearing pajamas?” this was the question I was asked as I stepped out of my little hotel room in Beaune one chilly, very gray March morning in 2003. I was on my first trip to France and had no idea what I was even doing there, had no idea how I had even gotten there. One minute I am in the shop picking up the phone to hear, “So I hear you’re going to France with me this year” and the next I am in Beaune…me, the girl that once lived on pancakes and Kayro syrup, lived in government aided housing, and now here I was, tasting, swirling and spitting in some of the most prestigious estates in Burgundy, what the hell?!
The first few days were fun, blurry but fun, I had never before experienced anything even remotely like that before, the language, the architecture, (man do I love the old buildings and structures in France) the food, travelling with complete strangers for 25 straight days……strangers that knew what they were doing, talking about and tasting. Never before felt so out of place, how would I have…I had never before been so out of place. But here I was, little puffs of white air escaping my lips as I stood there, in my, “pajamas” overstuffed luggage resting behind me, toes uncomfortably wiggling in my very white tennis shoes, as I looked at my then hero, (way to knock yourself right off that pedestal Michael) as he went all Heidi Klum on me.
I lumbered my chunky, powder blue sweatshirt covered self into the travel van in a full on snit, “who the hell does he think he is?” face shooting dirty looks into the rearview at my fearless leader, (like he even noticed) feeling indignant and down-right pissy. I didn’t even want to come on this trip and now I was being mocked, I felt my face getting warmer and warmer with each kilometer on our way to our next destination…Domaine Goisot in Saint-Bris in the Northern part of Burgundy that neighbors Chablis.
I felt myself softening a bit as we entered the breathtaking cellar at Goisot, stony stairs and walls, little lights leading our way, a place that spoke its history without having to say a word. I was spellbound, felt smaller than I ever had and being there, freezing, (even though I was clad in my biggest…apparently ugliest…sweatshirt) all pissy about my wardrobe malfunction, made me see how very small my world was before I ever stepped foot in that cellar, before I came to France and before I opened my heart, palate and voice to a place that would forever change me.
I survived the trip and took away not only an understanding of French culture, (um, white sneaks..bad, puffy hoodie not so good when doing the whole fine dining thing) but a very real, very true, dear friend, that would continue to nurture me, teach me, break my balls when I needed him to, and whose, “are you wearing pajamas?” question was the first to take a swipe at that shell, that shell that I had been protecting myself with for years. It was his slightly smug, very informed, concerned, but understanding and gentle hammer that broke this Nut wide open….so blame him.
So the reason for this walk down memory lane is The Nutcracker sent me a gift, a gift I know most wine geeks would be willing to endure a high colonic…with Boones Farm for. A mixed case of wine; older vintages, things I had never seen…just a wild array of wines that induced that freaking squeal, that girly…high pitched, piglet sound when I opened the box, (if you tell anyone I will be forced to pinch you real hard). I brought the box home yesterday, acted as if I were going to put all the wines in the little wine fridge that buzzes away in my living room. Instead I fondled the bottles and posted shit on facebook…bragging about all the fancy crap I got, feeling spoiled, (far cry from the pajama day) adored and very lucky. Lucky to have such a dear friend and even luckier that I was now in a position to truly understand and appreciate what I was given.
Tonight I came home and on my living room table was…the box. The box that had been selected for me, a case of wines that most people only dream of, the box of wicked cool wines that I should….should be sharing with others. Yeah, I grabbed the most obscure thing and tossed it in the fridge. I sucked back a glass or two of some Sauvignon Blanc, didn’t even really taste it, I was just buying my time…waiting to get my geek on, dying to taste the wine I had chosen from my box of chosen wines.
1997 Domaine Goisot Corps de Garde Gourmand, (Um…seriously, not available) When I pulled the cork I was a bit startled by the thick, grey, spongy layer of mildew that was just beneath the foil, even more nervous when I rested my waiting nostrils on the opening of the bottle…funky, smelled kinda funky. With trepidation I brought the glass to my nose…Holy Mother of Jarring Aromatics! Meursault, this Sauvignon Blanc smells like Meursault. Deeply nutty, powdery and full of caramel. On the palate the wine is thick, palate coating…the weight is astounding, simply astounding, this is Sauvignon Blanc? There is that slightly salty thing that drives me wild, that freshly sweating skin thing, and each rich layer brings something sexier, more intriguing and each sip reminding me that no one, not people and surely no wine, should be judged solely by what we think we know about them. Each sipp reminded me of how many people dismiss this little grape as something inferior….1997 Sauvignon Blanc people and it was un-freaking believable.
Posts
