Um. Yes, please. It's a nicely structured, medium bodied red. Great for sipping on these the not-quite-yet fall evenings.
Cabernet Sauvignon, ???, Zinfandel
What's the one in the middle?
Thursday, September 26, 2013
Thursday, September 19, 2013
Dangerously Drinkable
The pinot noir that Hob Nob makes is Dangerously Drinkable. Here's why:
The liquor store that sells it is in a most convenient location on my way home from work, right off the main drag. Easy in, easy out, no stoplights, no interruptions or delays.
It costs $9.00. A wine under $10 feels practically free, so I experience zero financial guilt. You can't even buy a decent-sized pizza for $9.00.
It's very, very smooth with no alarming after-tastes or weird stinging on the tongue. It's literally one of those goes-with-everything wines. I also deem it a good party wine, as it seems likely to offend very few.
So far (and luck be with me!) I have experienced not a single negative physical side-effect from this wine. My wine punishments always occur the following day, but with this one I haven't been stumbled by a headache, or experienced that awful lingering nausea. Nothing at all! So, it's lovely drinking it, and there's a happy satisfaction the next day rather than regret. (Granted, this is with stopping at two glasses. If I drink a whole bottle of pretty much anything, there is projectile vomiting involved. Always.)
All of these beneficial factors make this a Dangerously Drinkable wine in my book because I can't think of a single reason NOT to drink it. Therefore, I'll keep drinking it a lot.
http://www.hobnobwines.com/
The liquor store that sells it is in a most convenient location on my way home from work, right off the main drag. Easy in, easy out, no stoplights, no interruptions or delays.
It costs $9.00. A wine under $10 feels practically free, so I experience zero financial guilt. You can't even buy a decent-sized pizza for $9.00.
It's very, very smooth with no alarming after-tastes or weird stinging on the tongue. It's literally one of those goes-with-everything wines. I also deem it a good party wine, as it seems likely to offend very few.
So far (and luck be with me!) I have experienced not a single negative physical side-effect from this wine. My wine punishments always occur the following day, but with this one I haven't been stumbled by a headache, or experienced that awful lingering nausea. Nothing at all! So, it's lovely drinking it, and there's a happy satisfaction the next day rather than regret. (Granted, this is with stopping at two glasses. If I drink a whole bottle of pretty much anything, there is projectile vomiting involved. Always.)
All of these beneficial factors make this a Dangerously Drinkable wine in my book because I can't think of a single reason NOT to drink it. Therefore, I'll keep drinking it a lot.
http://www.hobnobwines.com/
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
No good story...
*i did order the shrimp. The salad came out with chicken. No offense to the chicken, but I really wanted those shrimp, which came out soon after.
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
Likes and dislikes
When in doubt, I enjoy a nice red blend.
I found this one recently, and bought it on a whim. It consists of 40% merlot, 20% cabernet sauvignon, 20% bonarda argentina (no clue what that is), and 15% malbec. It had a really nice smooth flavor, with the heavy, strong cab and malbec flavors balancing out the more mellow merlot. When in doubt, if I choose a red blend, I am usually happy with the result.
I am the opposite when it comes to chardonnay. I can drink just about anything and like it fine, but in general, if I'm not sure what to get and want to try something new, I do not reach for chardonnay. It tends to be not quite dry, not quite fruity, not quite right. I have found one that I find acceptable and can actually drink without thinking "blech," and that's this one: I opened it to have with that gorgeous roast chicken and it paired nicely. It was fine. I would be happy to serve that wine to guests, especially guests who like chardonnay. But at $50 a bottle, I don't see myself buying it very often when there are so many other wines out there that I like so much better.
I found this one recently, and bought it on a whim. It consists of 40% merlot, 20% cabernet sauvignon, 20% bonarda argentina (no clue what that is), and 15% malbec. It had a really nice smooth flavor, with the heavy, strong cab and malbec flavors balancing out the more mellow merlot. When in doubt, if I choose a red blend, I am usually happy with the result.
I am the opposite when it comes to chardonnay. I can drink just about anything and like it fine, but in general, if I'm not sure what to get and want to try something new, I do not reach for chardonnay. It tends to be not quite dry, not quite fruity, not quite right. I have found one that I find acceptable and can actually drink without thinking "blech," and that's this one: I opened it to have with that gorgeous roast chicken and it paired nicely. It was fine. I would be happy to serve that wine to guests, especially guests who like chardonnay. But at $50 a bottle, I don't see myself buying it very often when there are so many other wines out there that I like so much better.
Tuesday, September 3, 2013
Shenendoah Wine Country
I took my four-year-old son hiking in Shenandoah National Park this past weekend. It was vigorous, beautiful, sweaty, green and rocky and intense. It was nothing like the hiking that we normally do on the flat Eastern Shore trails at Tuckahoe State Park and Pickering Creek. It was foreign in layout and design. The trails were full of massive, sharp rocks, seeming at once threatening and yet acting as benevolent memory markers constantly proclaiming: You are not Home. You are Away. Breathe it in, carry it with you. We drove Skyline Drive to mile marker 49.4, where we stopped to park off the road. We crossed over to the junction of a horse trail and a vehicle fire trail, and checked our map to see which would bring us quickest to Rose River Falls. My son has a brave, adventurous heart, but, alas, he is only four with short little legs, so I have to temper his bravery with common sense. Were I on my own, I would have hiked the entire four-mile-plus circuit trail, but with my little guy, we opted for the two-mile-plus trail that took us down and back along the same strip. We hiked down, down, down with my knees complaining painfully but silently most of the way. I ignored it, as I always do since I love hiking more than thinking about knee pain. We heard the traveling water some time before we saw it. We stopped in the forest, we listened intensely, and heard the whisper grow fuller and louder with each step closer to the source. The falls were gentle, despite their noise. They were composed of multiple runs over small breaks, moving quickly over the sharp and slippery rocks in the stream. We followed along on the bank, then moved in closer where the vegetation broke. We stood watching, just inches from the stream. My son, always rule-bound, announced, "We can't go in the water. We can just look." When I replied with, "Says who?", he nearly fell over with shock and anticipation. We stripped off socks and shoes, and tiptoed into the cold water.
The next day, rested from our strenuous post-Falls hike back up the mountain (and our embarrassing collapse into the stream that resulted from climbing on the slippery rocks!), we were ready for something quiet and calm. I explained to my son that, as with his toys, life experiences sometimes require the taking of turns. We had done several things on our trip that he wanted to do, and now I wanted to visit a vineyard for a wine tasting. It was time to take turns. He understood this logic, if grudgingly, so we headed off to Cave Ridge Vineyards in Mount Jackson, VA. We had passed three highway signs for vineyards during the day, and chose Cave Ridge merely for proximity. I entered the property with high hopes. The view was stunning. It was, again, that perfect, welcome reminder: You are not Home. You are Away.
The next day, rested from our strenuous post-Falls hike back up the mountain (and our embarrassing collapse into the stream that resulted from climbing on the slippery rocks!), we were ready for something quiet and calm. I explained to my son that, as with his toys, life experiences sometimes require the taking of turns. We had done several things on our trip that he wanted to do, and now I wanted to visit a vineyard for a wine tasting. It was time to take turns. He understood this logic, if grudgingly, so we headed off to Cave Ridge Vineyards in Mount Jackson, VA. We had passed three highway signs for vineyards during the day, and chose Cave Ridge merely for proximity. I entered the property with high hopes. The view was stunning. It was, again, that perfect, welcome reminder: You are not Home. You are Away.
There was live music playing as we squeezed into the last available parking spot in the lot. Besides two bored-looking 10-year-oldish boys breaking sticks at the edge of the lot, there were no children around. I felt a guilty twinge, wondering if I were breaking some kind of Good Parenting law by dragging my preschooler to a winery. I ignored it, and we walked across the courtyard into the tasting room. I celebrated the lone chair sitting strangely in the middle of the room, and situated my son into it with his Nintendo DS. (THIS is why we bought him that gadget, I thought! To give us the occasional much-needed grownup reprieve!) He clicked it on, and I walked happily to the bar with the muted sounds of electronic lightsaber zappings chattering from his chair.
Cave Ridge had a wonderful array of wines to sample in their Standard Tasting that included five whites and four reds. Nine wines for the sweet fee of six dollars! There was an option to throw in four more for an extra two dollars, but that niggling bit of parental shame wouldn't allow me to go quite that far, and then drive us home on the bouncing, steep mountain roads. I stuck with the nine sampler, and found that several of the whites were stunning. The reds just weren't my style. They were spicy and peppery with notes much too strong for my taste. The whites, however, were just the kind I like: sweet but dry, not too sweet, not too bland. The big winner was the Traminette. It was devine! Just slightly sweet, just slightly dry, not a true dessert wine but so perfect that it could double as dessert. Yet, it could pair up with cheeses just fine, too. It tasted like summer nights on the back deck, moonlight over the trees. I bought a bottle for $15, and gathered up my son whose determined patience was wearing thin by that point.
I'm saving up the Traminette for the last of summer in hopes of reviving that feel, that place, that time away.
http://caveridge.com/shop/traminette
Dessert wines and cat pee
That's right, I said cat pee.
I drank a delightful dessert wine recently. "Dessert wines" tend to be higher in alcohol content than regular wines, with a thicker, almost-but-not-quite syrupy thickness, and a sweet taste.
This wine is also made primarily from sauvignon blanc grapes. I found a web page that described sauv blanc like this:
I'm sorry, what was that now? Olives I can handle. Olives I can maybe even appreciate. But CAT PEE?
And you see the part of that quote that says, "cat pee aside..."? I'm sorry, but there is no "aside." There is nothing after "cat pee." NOTHING.
I drank a delightful dessert wine recently. "Dessert wines" tend to be higher in alcohol content than regular wines, with a thicker, almost-but-not-quite syrupy thickness, and a sweet taste.
This one also looked pretty: See? That golden color is just lovely. The wine tasted as rich as it looked. It was sweet but not too sweet. It was a really lovely, refreshing sipping wine. I also had no idea what sauternes was (is), so I looked it up. This particular wine is (rather aptly) described as: Early apricots, honeycomb, orange butter combine across an intricate palate woven with zippy minerality and lemon curd.Yum, right? Right.
This wine is also made primarily from sauvignon blanc grapes. I found a web page that described sauv blanc like this:
Sauvignon Blanc
Few varietals have spawned as bizarre a list of descriptors as Sauvignon Blanc. Believe it or not, “cat pee” is in fact a complimentary tasting note, associated with some of the best bottlings. (It’s a somewhat odd way of pointing out herbaceousness in the wine.) Cat pee aside, Sauvignon Blanc (sometimes called "Fumé Blanc" in California) is a bit of a chameleon in terms of style, and quite...I'm sorry, what was that now? Olives I can handle. Olives I can maybe even appreciate. But CAT PEE?
And you see the part of that quote that says, "cat pee aside..."? I'm sorry, but there is no "aside." There is nothing after "cat pee." NOTHING.
Pinotage
I bought a bottle of pinotage not too long ago. I had never heard of this type of wine and figured I would give it a try.
South Africa is known for its pinotage wines, which are a cross between pinot noir and cinsaut (Cinsaut was known as "hermitage" in South Africa at one time, so the word pinotage is a cross between the pinot in pinot noir and hermitage).
Don't ask me what cinsaut is.
Other than a type of grape. Obviously.
According to the interwebs, pinotage "typically produces deep red varietal wines with smoky bramble and earthy flavors, sometimes with notes of bananas and tropical fruit, but has been criticized for sometimes smelling of acetone."
Yeah, I would criticize a wine, too, if it smelled like nail polish remover.
I opened this wine:
And was nearly knocked over by the taste. At first I thought the wine might have gone bad, it was so ... weird. But then I realized that it wasn't bad, it just had this very unusual finish. I couldn't put my finger on what I was tasting.
I looked it up. Here is the description of this wine:
Good bright, dark red. Musky, soil-driven aromas and flavors of strawberry, black olive tapenade and chocolate. Supple and intense if a bit funky, with harmonious acidity framing and intensifying the mid-palate fruit. Very suave in texture but distinctly idiosyncratic in its flavors, although there's plenty of lurking red fruit here. Finishes with sweet tannins and a strong lingering olive element. You've been warned.
That's right, it said olives. OLIVES. Who expects a wine to taste like freaking olives?!?
So I took another sip. And another. And darn if that isn't exactly what I was tasting. I still think it's weird, but I'm glad I tried it.
South Africa is known for its pinotage wines, which are a cross between pinot noir and cinsaut (Cinsaut was known as "hermitage" in South Africa at one time, so the word pinotage is a cross between the pinot in pinot noir and hermitage).
Don't ask me what cinsaut is.
Other than a type of grape. Obviously.
According to the interwebs, pinotage "typically produces deep red varietal wines with smoky bramble and earthy flavors, sometimes with notes of bananas and tropical fruit, but has been criticized for sometimes smelling of acetone."
Yeah, I would criticize a wine, too, if it smelled like nail polish remover.
I opened this wine:
And was nearly knocked over by the taste. At first I thought the wine might have gone bad, it was so ... weird. But then I realized that it wasn't bad, it just had this very unusual finish. I couldn't put my finger on what I was tasting.
I looked it up. Here is the description of this wine:
Good bright, dark red. Musky, soil-driven aromas and flavors of strawberry, black olive tapenade and chocolate. Supple and intense if a bit funky, with harmonious acidity framing and intensifying the mid-palate fruit. Very suave in texture but distinctly idiosyncratic in its flavors, although there's plenty of lurking red fruit here. Finishes with sweet tannins and a strong lingering olive element. You've been warned.
That's right, it said olives. OLIVES. Who expects a wine to taste like freaking olives?!?
So I took another sip. And another. And darn if that isn't exactly what I was tasting. I still think it's weird, but I'm glad I tried it.
Monday, September 2, 2013
Party Wines
One of the best things about parties with my wine-drinking friends is sampling the wine they bust out to share. I'm such a wine wussie because I hate blowing good money on bad wine. I tend to drink what I know and love at the expense of being predictable, boring and missing out on other good stuff. I don't usually trust the recommendations of wine shop staff because I can't accurately describe to them what I like and want. It's not their fault. They're perfectly qualified. It's my fault that I can't better verbalize beyond "something that won't trigger a gag reflex." I don't give them much to go on.
Occasionally, the wine fare at parties is quite poor and I find myself suspecting that my friends also sort their wines by "Not Likely to Share Because It's So Very Good" and "Put It Out Because Someone Got it For Me as a Gift and It's Bloody Awful." I had one of the bloody awfuls this summer that I swear smelled just like body odor, and tasted very nearly the same. Seriously, absolutely. I'm not a wine snob by any stretch, but I at least want to drink a wine that revs me up with a fragrant bouquet first. A good smelling wine is like the crest of the hill on a rollercoaster---EEEEEEE, you're nearly there! But, to have the crest smell like a junior high boy who hasn't showered in a week, well, it can set the whole party off poorly. There are limits, people. Yes, I occasionally chuck the crappy wine out at a party, but there are limits. Body odor bouquet is that limit.
But, thankfully, not all summer parties have soured in such a way, as evidenced by my friend A.T's perfect wine she served a few weeks ago. Knowing little about wine except whether I like it or whether it sucks, I had never heard of a Monastrell. A.T. presented one made by Honoro Vera, and I'm certainly game for anything red, so I poured a cautious glass of it. After the first sip, I snatched up the bottle to make sure I got a hefty dose of it before the other party guests arrived! It was wonderful!! It's a varietal wine made of Spanish black-skinned grapes. When I researched this grape, I found that it also goes by the name, "Mourvedra," which I have actually heard of before, but not drank. It was smooth going down, with no snips and grimaces along the way. I'm not normally fond of peppery wines, but this was so subtle and balanced that I liked it quite well. It was lovely all on its own, and perfect with the grilled fare that A.T. was serving. It clashed with nothing! It was gone in an instant, and I was texting her the next day begging for the name of it again. Adding pleasure to pleasure: it sells for around $10!
https://thewinefeed.com/shop/honoro-vera-monastrell/#.UiU0oxzP9fM
Occasionally, the wine fare at parties is quite poor and I find myself suspecting that my friends also sort their wines by "Not Likely to Share Because It's So Very Good" and "Put It Out Because Someone Got it For Me as a Gift and It's Bloody Awful." I had one of the bloody awfuls this summer that I swear smelled just like body odor, and tasted very nearly the same. Seriously, absolutely. I'm not a wine snob by any stretch, but I at least want to drink a wine that revs me up with a fragrant bouquet first. A good smelling wine is like the crest of the hill on a rollercoaster---EEEEEEE, you're nearly there! But, to have the crest smell like a junior high boy who hasn't showered in a week, well, it can set the whole party off poorly. There are limits, people. Yes, I occasionally chuck the crappy wine out at a party, but there are limits. Body odor bouquet is that limit.
But, thankfully, not all summer parties have soured in such a way, as evidenced by my friend A.T's perfect wine she served a few weeks ago. Knowing little about wine except whether I like it or whether it sucks, I had never heard of a Monastrell. A.T. presented one made by Honoro Vera, and I'm certainly game for anything red, so I poured a cautious glass of it. After the first sip, I snatched up the bottle to make sure I got a hefty dose of it before the other party guests arrived! It was wonderful!! It's a varietal wine made of Spanish black-skinned grapes. When I researched this grape, I found that it also goes by the name, "Mourvedra," which I have actually heard of before, but not drank. It was smooth going down, with no snips and grimaces along the way. I'm not normally fond of peppery wines, but this was so subtle and balanced that I liked it quite well. It was lovely all on its own, and perfect with the grilled fare that A.T. was serving. It clashed with nothing! It was gone in an instant, and I was texting her the next day begging for the name of it again. Adding pleasure to pleasure: it sells for around $10!
https://thewinefeed.com/shop/honoro-vera-monastrell/#.UiU0oxzP9fM