When poured into the maw, a cool river of fruit dammed up on my tongue. Then, the spice came rushing downstream, burst through the damming refreshment and kicked my tongue back in delighted shock. But it didn’t stay and burn. Finished quite politely. Must act properly and maintain appearances, after all.

Time to return to the store, then.

As a bonus, fun chronicle in the intermidable Old Grey Snotty Lady style of the commercial work on scientifically quantifying consumer taste in wine.

September 15th, 2005 | Wine | 3 comments

If the place was loud and crowded tonight, the wine was well-matched. I tried to have some conversation across the table, but by the end of the bottle I was tired of it shouting. Mellow out, man. Even though I tasted some berries, and lot of smoke, I remain unconvinced that this wine was anything other than a mediocre Led Zepplin cover band. Maybe they’ll cool like Robert Plant has with age. But hey, for $9.50 at the Mud Pie’s half-price wine night with eight good friends, I was happy. And the wife appreciated it much more than I, which counts towards a better time.

I was more intrigued by the half-glass of Smoking Loon 2003 Syrah that my friend to the right slid over. Actually, I poured the glass myself and drank, because he was lollygagging and I was tired of the noise and ready to go home to oyster crackers and bed.

May 26th, 2005 | Wine | No comments