Swiftly Flow the Years

All is a blur since the onset of the Obama Era; not so much because of the crazy teabaggers and ignorantly inflamed populace, but because it's been a Year of Consequence. Gram passed November 9, 2008, and I can't remember what wine we tossed back to drown our tears. Andie and I clung to a small hope that our impregnation that day would be successful, a way to punch through to the silver lining in our cloak of sadness.

It was not to be. However, here it is a year later, and our life these past 12 months can be measured in wine: the wine that Andie has not imbibed, and the wine I HAVE. Since she could not drink with a bambino growing in her belly, she frowned upon me drinking anything "special" from my collection. Good grief, Charlie Brown: EVERYTHING I buy and squeeze onto the shelf (rack, cooler, cardboard box) is special to me.

Clearly, it was necessary to devise a plan that would satisfy the both of us. I began by uncorking the wines I GUESSED would be either so-so, or readily available. This meant a great deal of sampling Cellar Rat's Wine of the Week, and along the way I learned a valuable lesson -- about life, and wine: Breathe.

Breathing helps with grief, and oh how it helps with wine. The example that springs most emphatically to mind is the Layer Cake Shiraz. The Rat baristas raved about this wine, but I was underwhelmed when I cracked it. Yes, it was rich, and I usually love big, fruit-forward wines, but this was a letdown. Sipped it, experienced the familiar "eh" response, vacuum pumped it, forgot about it.

Fortuitously, Laurie Lou swang by (swing, swang, swung???) a day or two later, and helped me select a wine for our rare evening together. She was curious about the already open Layer Cake, took a sip, had a very positive reaction, and I immediately monkey-seed, monkey-doed. It was a different wine! The day or two post-uncorking had transformed the Shiraz. The dense, dark fruit and chocolate flavors had come together, and the Layer Cake had breathed its way to fantastic. We toasted our good fortune: The bottle I'd set aside in disappointment made for one delicious dessert.

Ditto for the 2005 Rustenberg Stellenbosch John X Merriman, an elegant Bordeaux blend that was good one night, but VERY good the next. O Oxygen, which maketh and can breaketh a wine!
Segue.

Since I have not blogged for lo these many months, I have not kept track of the (many) wines I have consumed. Or perhaps it is that because I have failed to keep track of the wines I've tried, I have failed to blog. Whatever the case, I am herewith squeezing my brain to see what wines were memorable enough to make an impression. (Usually, I just poke through the recycling bin to jog my memory, but the wine restrictions placed upon me prevent that approach. Ahem. Andie.)

Kim's short list: The 2005 Seghesio Sangiovese, pure pleasure. The repeated deliciousness of the 2007 Ridge Ponzo Zinfandel. (Chant with Lisa and me: "Ponzo! PONZO!") The 2007 Cabernet Franc from Inland Sea Winery, astonishly from Missouri. Everything from Mollydooker. The Novelty Hill Viognier, of all things -- it never fails to shock me when a white wine kicks ass.

I clearly recall the wine we had for Valentine's Day: The Flora Springs Trilogy -- the 2005, I believe. This is a wine out of my price range, but I bought it anyway, because my sister Karen was meeting us in Belleville (Illinois), and she appreciates a good wine, and I thought it might be an occasion for celebration: We had just inseminated, and were hopeful.

Hey, it's the thought that counts. I love the wines of Flora Springs, and this meritage was highly rated, but it just wasn't a knockout. Looking back, I realize we should have put the wine aside to breathe for an hour. It's okay, though, because although the wine didn't strike me as worth $50 at the time, turns out it was. It was a LUCKY wine, and someday we will tell Jonah the story of how he was conceived.

In the meantime, we're on Countdown to the Big Day, and we (most especially Andie) need to remember to BREATHE.