C'est amusant, n'est-ce pas?
I keep forgetting to write this piece. Just as I forget to write down my dreams. I also forget to write down the entries for the one book I hope to finish before I am too decrepit to pick up a pen. If pens still exist at that time. Which they probably will, since I am halfway between youth and death. I think.
I've always been forgetful. At least I THINK I've always been forgetful. Hard to remember, actually.
But I haven't always been indifferent to the Columbia Crest Two Vines Shiraz. The 2001 version of this wine rated 90 points by the Wine Spectator, which is as good a benchmark for trying wines as I know. Certainly better than relying on movie reviewers for one's weekend viewing fare. But I digress. Which is a book title if I've ever heard one. It could be a bumper sticker as well, perfect for me no matter the vehicle: But I Digress. Like a professor of mathematics or science, I digress more than I. .. what's the opposite of digress? Transgress? Egress? Largesse?
The largesse offered by the Columbia Crest Two Vines line is notable. Lower in price than the Columbia Crest Grand Estates line, the Two Vines Shiraz - and the Cab as well - offers considerable value. The wines are often on sale for $6 or so, a price even my mother would like. I think. Hard to say, really. Mom does like a bargain, but she also sneered at the first-class digs I arranged for her through Priceline at the Hyatt Regency. Too fancy. No Continental breakfast. And horror of horrors, no coffee maker in the room. But I digress.
The thing is, my taster is off. I don't know if this is a hormonal issue, but I DO know that wines just ain't tastin' right to me of late. Case in point: Sunday at the potluck, we carted in a CC Two Vines Shiraz -- a 2002, which rates almost as high as the 2001 -- and the Ravenswood Syrah from Southeast Australia, both of which I've had before and really liked. The CC Two Vines Shiraz is full of berries and chocolate, and it's smooth. A terrific wine to adopt as one's "house wine," good at 3x the price, ya know? But, even given the fact that Leeser and I like some roughness to our wines, the CC just didn't cut it. And neither did the Ravenswood. The Ravenswood wines, as ubiquitous as the Columbia Crest offerings, are usually DECENT quaffs -- although for sheer consistency and value, the Washington wines of Columbia Crest can't be beaten. Columbia Crest bottles zillions of wines every year, and it's hard to believe how good they are, produced in such quantity. The CC Grand Estates Merlot 2001 is a 90-pointer, and the Chardonnay ($11 or so, $9 at Costco) is always yummy, especially for lovers of oak. But I digress. . .
Lately, there have been other wines that have left me grimacing, wines that I had previously enjoyed. I can't blame it on a bad bottle, because Andie and Lisa found them tasty enough. Do palates shift that much? I know they do change, but I always thought that was a gradual process. Like the first time I ever tasted "fine French wine," I almost spit out a mouthful. I was only 16 or 17, and I'd thought "real" wines would taste BETTER, somehow. Up to that point, I'd slurped Boone's Farm, Strawberry Glen and Ripple, Pagan Pink or Precious Pear or somesuch, so I'll grant you I was expecting more of a grape juice experience. EESH.
Clearly, that was many years ago. Many wines ago, many women and songs ago. Years matter. YEAR matters. As in the year grapes are harvested. During Sunday's foray to the Hyvee Wine Shop (which is kickass, Kansas Citians. Many selections, many wines on sale), Leeser was talking aloud about the vintage: "Well, I know we liked this wine before. 2001, 2002, there's not gonna be much taste difference, is there? Same label, same. . . oh. The weather WOULD make a difference in the grapes each year, wouldn't it? Duh." Lisa was raised on a farm. She should know that stuff. For those who don't, just remember, the year written on the wine label is the date the grapes were harvested, not the year the wine was bottled (which may be years later). Again, that date on the wine bottle is called the vintage.
I can't recall the vintage on the astounding Croatian wine we took camping last weekend. I can recall just HOW and WHY it was astounding, but I'll save that story for another time. If I only remember to write it. Like that book I want to write. It's a book of titles. Titles of would-be books, titles that pop from people's mouths in the course of everyday conversation. I can't remember any of those titles right now, but I know they're amusing and quirky. Which sounds like one of those too-too wine reviews. "The Menage a Quatre 2003 is an amusing and quirky little effort from the folks at Screw Napa Vineyards. . ." As if that description helps one pick a wine. Although I gotta tell ya, it's a great way to pick a girlfriend.
I've always been forgetful. At least I THINK I've always been forgetful. Hard to remember, actually.
But I haven't always been indifferent to the Columbia Crest Two Vines Shiraz. The 2001 version of this wine rated 90 points by the Wine Spectator, which is as good a benchmark for trying wines as I know. Certainly better than relying on movie reviewers for one's weekend viewing fare. But I digress. Which is a book title if I've ever heard one. It could be a bumper sticker as well, perfect for me no matter the vehicle: But I Digress. Like a professor of mathematics or science, I digress more than I. .. what's the opposite of digress? Transgress? Egress? Largesse?
The largesse offered by the Columbia Crest Two Vines line is notable. Lower in price than the Columbia Crest Grand Estates line, the Two Vines Shiraz - and the Cab as well - offers considerable value. The wines are often on sale for $6 or so, a price even my mother would like. I think. Hard to say, really. Mom does like a bargain, but she also sneered at the first-class digs I arranged for her through Priceline at the Hyatt Regency. Too fancy. No Continental breakfast. And horror of horrors, no coffee maker in the room. But I digress.
The thing is, my taster is off. I don't know if this is a hormonal issue, but I DO know that wines just ain't tastin' right to me of late. Case in point: Sunday at the potluck, we carted in a CC Two Vines Shiraz -- a 2002, which rates almost as high as the 2001 -- and the Ravenswood Syrah from Southeast Australia, both of which I've had before and really liked. The CC Two Vines Shiraz is full of berries and chocolate, and it's smooth. A terrific wine to adopt as one's "house wine," good at 3x the price, ya know? But, even given the fact that Leeser and I like some roughness to our wines, the CC just didn't cut it. And neither did the Ravenswood. The Ravenswood wines, as ubiquitous as the Columbia Crest offerings, are usually DECENT quaffs -- although for sheer consistency and value, the Washington wines of Columbia Crest can't be beaten. Columbia Crest bottles zillions of wines every year, and it's hard to believe how good they are, produced in such quantity. The CC Grand Estates Merlot 2001 is a 90-pointer, and the Chardonnay ($11 or so, $9 at Costco) is always yummy, especially for lovers of oak. But I digress. . .
Lately, there have been other wines that have left me grimacing, wines that I had previously enjoyed. I can't blame it on a bad bottle, because Andie and Lisa found them tasty enough. Do palates shift that much? I know they do change, but I always thought that was a gradual process. Like the first time I ever tasted "fine French wine," I almost spit out a mouthful. I was only 16 or 17, and I'd thought "real" wines would taste BETTER, somehow. Up to that point, I'd slurped Boone's Farm, Strawberry Glen and Ripple, Pagan Pink or Precious Pear or somesuch, so I'll grant you I was expecting more of a grape juice experience. EESH.
Clearly, that was many years ago. Many wines ago, many women and songs ago. Years matter. YEAR matters. As in the year grapes are harvested. During Sunday's foray to the Hyvee Wine Shop (which is kickass, Kansas Citians. Many selections, many wines on sale), Leeser was talking aloud about the vintage: "Well, I know we liked this wine before. 2001, 2002, there's not gonna be much taste difference, is there? Same label, same. . . oh. The weather WOULD make a difference in the grapes each year, wouldn't it? Duh." Lisa was raised on a farm. She should know that stuff. For those who don't, just remember, the year written on the wine label is the date the grapes were harvested, not the year the wine was bottled (which may be years later). Again, that date on the wine bottle is called the vintage.
I can't recall the vintage on the astounding Croatian wine we took camping last weekend. I can recall just HOW and WHY it was astounding, but I'll save that story for another time. If I only remember to write it. Like that book I want to write. It's a book of titles. Titles of would-be books, titles that pop from people's mouths in the course of everyday conversation. I can't remember any of those titles right now, but I know they're amusing and quirky. Which sounds like one of those too-too wine reviews. "The Menage a Quatre 2003 is an amusing and quirky little effort from the folks at Screw Napa Vineyards. . ." As if that description helps one pick a wine. Although I gotta tell ya, it's a great way to pick a girlfriend.
posted by Winetaster | 10:46 AM
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