There’s a weight in my hands, both familiar and endlessly pleasing. It’s the feeling of fasting for a week or removing what may seem to be a pound of dirt off your feet with a scrubber. It’s often associated with giving birth; but I have sisters, many of them, and I would not want to elicit any remonstrations about the possibility of this being a false allegory. I’ve finished a large new document; although finished is a mis nomer due to the realization I have become more entangled with over the years: nothing’s ever finished; it may be more complete than it was before, but there is always more work to be done. Despite longer roads of work ahead, it feels good to have a half pound paper brick off the screen and into the real world. It’s a petite, condensed world; whether or not it exists without being read by someone is up for some debate. I’ve no idea. I only know that it has some semblance of life between my morning tea and coffee, and before cooking dinner after having read it for the umpteenth time––and it still feels right after the fact. It’s not a piece of work that one wants to throw out the window after too much time spent with it. These works I’ve known well, I can’t recall how many papers I took a ponderous delight in burning after they were written and handed in––the old scripts and plays that only reflected back at me how little I know and how far I need to go. Which is exactly the trap of thoughts I can’t garner with a belly full of wine.
So I feel a reward coming on. The clock has two hours to go before we have another (as always) Sunday evening with wine and bread and cheese. A Second’s crawl can be like walking back to shore in sandals, how it fights you along the way. That, or, like being subjected to Steve Winwood’s muzac as you drive into town; your friend proclaiming how it really is deep and is really in touch with the smooth side of her soul. It’s a chore to get through, and you have to make an initiative to speculate on anything and anything else around you to get through it. But a whiff of the bread cooling in the oven finds a way to me, giving an easy bought of energy…which is only a trick from my body, like a cheer to the finish line. A finish line with more bread.
During the writing, the walking, the endless french pressing, the curry making, cheesecake baking, and the sun burning week, we’ve had some bottles. And by had, I mean needed; because no one ever tells you that having no job is much more work than having a job. It is time consuming; it is time spent searching instead of experiencing. If the thirteen-year-old rendition of myself could see me now, I would only be given a vague and contemptible stare––the one that mothers utilize to great effect, “I’m not mad, just disappointed.”
Luckily there’s this unbridled sense of discovery with each new bottle. I do not joke when I say that I want a hate on, indiscriminate from Doctor Jones’ in Raiders of The Last Crusade, while I drink.
2011 Twisted Wine Old Vine Zinfindel – $8
Dark, looking viscous. A wine you know what you’re about to taste just as you smell it––Like a candy store as you walk on by, as an adult, somehow displeasing to you now. Sure enough, a large volume of sweet that proves only to be more acrid than embracing. Acidity is present, tannins make a short cameo; it all ends without much of a linger. It slips away unnoticed. Not all that pleasing, namely because it’s hard to get through a glass without a thought of apprehension.
2011 Callaway Coastal Cabernet Sauvingnon – $9
A butter and tangerine nose with a good deal of leaf. The wine itself is a lot of fun. It’s sweet without having that cloying, astringent sugar rush-tinge. Really quite pleasant, gushy, full and bright. It skates right down your mouth, being very vibrant all along the way. One tone, but it’s a well rounded one. It’s hard to not like this wine, despite reservations of purple-prose-like vino.
2011 Telmo Rodrígez Toro Dehesa Gago – $35
Deep inky purple. The smell was capricious, just like the taste–which is a great compliment–with notes of light soil and old wood. The wine started off with elegance and finesse. The linger was incredible, “like faded fruit.” With the second glass came the power, the tannins and heavy finish of a large zin; it just opened up. And, later, it calmed down again. Incredible, light and worth keeping in the mouth to study. And so it went on like this until the very last drop. It was most intriguing, evolving here and there. I also tasted what I could have sworn to be pure, dark coca. It was never the same wine from sip to sip. I won’t call it the best wine I’ve ever had, however; it lacked a certain feel of refreshment, even in it’s more elegant state. Still, this is the wine to be drinking. An outstanding achievement that everyone should give a go at. Worth the extra money (by means of our more frugal purchases).
I’d like to note that I will begin posting links to the wines listed here, links to Cellartracker––another recommendation, the likes of you should be using because it’s kind of the perfect little site for wine geeks like us. The reason for this? I have been informed of this thing called the internet, where people click to and type in addresses to get more information about things in which they are told about through mediums such as these, people being generally to strained on time and or patience to search for things themselves. And I am one of them. I hear providing links makes better a use of this strange tool called the internet.
An amazing site, or service, or gem––whatever it is you wish to call it––that I stumbled upon is the Garageiste. It is a site that was heralded by Jon Rimmerman and has been going strong since the early 2000’s. It’s a small family affair with none of the corporate overhead that prevails the wine market we immediately think is associated with the wine we buy. Five days a week, or sometimes more, Jon will send out a newsletter on the wine, or wines, he has a killer deal on. The wines, as far as I can tell, are always recommended because they’re absolute stunners. You can’t buy wine from them directly from the site; you instead have to sign up for the newsletters. It’s a fascinating system: you get great deals directly from vintners as Jon pond jumps, making screamin’ deals along the way; you also get the satisfaction of knowing the wine will be secure, stored properly, and most of all damned tasty. The wines aren’t always inexpensive, but there’s a great deal of $30 and under wines I’m constantly telling myself not to order. But, when the time comes and the income is flowing, I will be ordering from Jon most frequently. Sign up, and be tenacious with your orders! http://www.garagiste.com