Ian Fitzsimmons
Ian Fitzsimmons
My wife partakes with me in the fruits of my disorder, but she tends to think the 'fine' part of 'fine wine' is somewhat overblown. To burst my bubble from time to time, she drags some bottle of unspeakable plonk home from the local Safeway to knock back with our weekday evening gruel. Last week, the villain of the piece was Barton and Guestier villages Bojo, marked down on sale. Well, I said to myself methinks you cant drink Champers every night, so down the old piehole it went. It turned out to be surprisingly slurpable. I mean, it didnt reveal gobs of hedonistic red fruit, and it definitely wasnt a dead ringer for top-notch moose, but it did exhibit a certain beguiling charm, and, at least, I didnt feel like I was wasting a decent red on tomato sauce. Weirdly, it got better with air time.
So, next time we had to buy diapers, we grabbed a couple more bottles, along with one each of the B. and G. Vouvray and Cotes du Rhone. The Vouvray is made from the Chenin Blanc grape, by the way, also known as pineau de la Loire. It had a decently-balanced, if whimsical, acid-sweet balance, and went fine with spicy burritos. Were not talking crushed rocks or white flowers, of course.
Fuck, I thought to myself, whats happening to me? Finally, we opened the CdR and it drank like liquid sandpaper. Aha! I thought, Im redeemed; this stuff sucks, whew! But the next night I absent-mindedly swilled a leftover glass, and damn if it wasnt pretty good with toast and cheese; pretty killer juice, in fact.
B. and G. I feel so dirty.
So, next time we had to buy diapers, we grabbed a couple more bottles, along with one each of the B. and G. Vouvray and Cotes du Rhone. The Vouvray is made from the Chenin Blanc grape, by the way, also known as pineau de la Loire. It had a decently-balanced, if whimsical, acid-sweet balance, and went fine with spicy burritos. Were not talking crushed rocks or white flowers, of course.
Fuck, I thought to myself, whats happening to me? Finally, we opened the CdR and it drank like liquid sandpaper. Aha! I thought, Im redeemed; this stuff sucks, whew! But the next night I absent-mindedly swilled a leftover glass, and damn if it wasnt pretty good with toast and cheese; pretty killer juice, in fact.
B. and G. I feel so dirty.