This post’s wines under scrutiny:
2010 Kiler Grove Interpretation – $19 –– Skip.
2012 Trapiche Malbec – $ 18 –– Skip.
2008 Boutari Naoussa – $15 –– Worthy.
2011 Robert Mondavi’s private selection Pinot Noir – $14 –– Skip.
“You write like an old man,” my good friend told me. We were sitting, with a wine as our companion, on a recent Spring evening. “I don’t read a lot of what your writing – if you can call this writing. But that’s not you. It’s a lot of what I imagine all the others are writing.” He was right of course. We were chatting about wine writing in general, and soon came to the topic of this blog in particular. Wine blogs are everywhere, we noted; they sound and feel and look the same. You get the sense they’re all copying each other.
“I think I have some voice.” I had to lie.
“No,” he noted. “This is John Doe writing about his wine he had last night.” A word popped into my mind: pique. “If you can talk about this drink in a more clever way,” he continued, “then you might get hits…any kind of readership. Hell. Where’s the humor?”
2010 Kiler Grove Interpretation – $19
Dark, zesty and provoking a sense of spice. You can’t help but notice it’s pretty, but that’s also to say you can’t help but notice how young a obese it is. This isn’t the prime example their 2009 exhibited. Something slipped along the way here. Skip it.
“The only one’s worth reading are funny.”
“Exactly. Do that. There’s nothing sacred here. You’re free to Wild West it. That’s interesting journalism. It is journalism you’re after? Or is this some sort of wine wanking?”
He was on to me. “A passion.”
“If it’s something your passionate about, it shouldn’t read like a cut-out board of a Karl Malone marque. You know, out dated and a little faded.”
“You think I’m Karl Malone?” The writing was more rotten than I thought.
“Not, a cardboard cut-out of Karl Malone. I know it’s hard to tell the difference…one’s skinnier and stays young much longer. But, I like your scripts; they have a vision. Everything’s working towards something. It’s should be reaching.” He turned the screen of his phone off, which was displaying this very blog. “What’s these evaluations reaching for? Out to?”
2012 Trapiche Malbec – $ 18
Dissapointing for a malbec; this has little to say about the varietal, almost like it’s hiding behind the mask of a mineral-laden zinfandel. You can get a sense that they were giving it their best to be bold and expressive, but in the end it comes off as Dick Chenney with a gun –– a little too overzealous (that’s still a topical joke, right?). Skip it.
“Exhibiting what’s worth it, what’s not.” I sipped my wine. It was a rancid thing; that lovely kind of rancid that only a lower class, warm, restaurant wine could have. “Like this,” I motioned between us. “It’s communication –– We paid, what, forty bottles for this bottle?”
“You paid for the bottle. I’m not touching my wallet tonight.”
That may have been it. No, that was it; it’s all about what you’ve bought rather than what you’ve been given. I continued,”Well, would you recommend it? If it was your forty dollars?”
“That’s three hours of work. It’s hardly justified.” He tipped his glass to me. “And thank you by the way.” We sat there, thinking it over for a good beat or two. He seemed to get it. “But no one can remember a phone number any more. How are they to remember a name of a good wine that’s on sale, or just terrific for the price?”
2008 Boutari Naoussa – $15
A clear and brown tinged red. A very nice nose that had a depth, you could smell it for a while without loosing much of an interest. It was an inky wine that, while not all that well-rounded, it was very bold and dark in every direction, filling the very deepest caverns of the mouth with that culling dark matter from Ridley Scott’s Prometheus. It was not hard to take down in good time, however, and ended up being a pleasing, but sweat-inducing, wine. Worthy.
“That’s what this online medium’s about. It’s our better half of the brain, but with much more Rick Rolling.”
“You have no umph to you, though. Man, you have no one’s umption towards you to read your work.”
“Give up, then?”
“That, or drink a hell of a lot more, keep on going on, and say to hell with the rest. An opinion is vapid no matter where it ends up.” He saw my spirits. They weren’t all that low, nor surprised, only privy to inevitability. “Just do it for you. But if you do that, man, make sure you get a laugh out of it. Make it make sense to yourself.”
2011 Robert Mondavi’s private selection Pinot Noir – $14
Some apparent juicy appeal. A fine wine to sip, but boring after one glass. I wanted to reach for something else after the first sip. We found ourselves done with the bottle before we realized there was time to even think about it. Wispy and not worth remembering in the end. Skip it.
I always knew I’d grow up to be cardboard cut-out of Karl Malone. Somehow, I just knew. Almost in the same way you open a Malbec an expect it to be pitch perfect –– just what you needed that evening –– and then it was. It’s not that you really knew. It just makes sense that you would have known it all along. And…so I write on.