by Christine | Wine Friday
For those of you not from California, Paso Robles is the next in line of the big wine counties here. First on the map was Napa Valley; then came Sonoma County. Now Paso Robles is lifting its head and making itself known after being there and growing grapes for umpety years.
Two weekends ago, my boss let me have a half-day off and I went up to Paso with two girlfriends. We got on the road around 2pm and headed north; not a good thing on a Friday. I don’t remember how long it took us to get to Santa Barbara, but we stopped there for burritos at Freebirds, the local hangout on Isla Vista for all the UCSB kids. And yes, we were SURROUNDED by kids. I haven’t felt that old in years.
The youngling with us powered down a huge burrito while the driver and I, of a similar age and body type, split nachos – which we couldn’t finish. And then we were onward.
It was a bit of an awkward drive for me. I sat in the back seat, thinking I would write on the way (HAH!); what that did was put a sound barrier between me and the front seat gals, especially since I only hear out of one ear now. But we did okay.
We finally hit Atascadero, found our hotel room, and settled in – but just for a moment. We needed provisions. We were still full from our late lunch, but a bottle of wine and some snackies wouldn’t go amiss.
We found a Food 4 Less down the highway a bit. By the time we got a cart and made our way in, we were giggling helplessly over something or other. I don’t remember what, I only remember how delicious it was to giggle a tad uncontrollably. All through the store we were that way – and we hadn’t had a SINGLE sip of wine. Not ONE. Amazing, but true!
Finally provisioned with salami, bread, cheeses, and grapes (not to mention a bottle of Eberle Merlot and Barefoot Cellars Rose Champagne), we headed back to our hotel room, did battle with the ice machine and the ice chest, and finally were able to get into our jammies and have girl talk.
I’m going to skip the girl talk. It was fabulous, it was full of the good stuff, and you’ll just have to use your imagination.
The next day, we hit up seven wineries. SEVEN WINERIES from 10am to 5pm. SEVEN. Hubby and I usually only can manage three, four TOPS before we’re too giddy. So I am definitely proud of our prowess. Of course, it didn’t hurt that our driver preferred sweet white wines, and there weren’t a lot of those to taste.
Briefly, here are my notes from the seven wineries:
Eberle – Really enjoyed the whites, not so the reds. Bought a viognier for the hubby. Nice cave tour, but our tour guide had less personality than a grape. The picture to the left? Eberle is German for swine – hence the statue of the pig out front.
Adelaida – Became a club member. Sigh. 3 bottles, 4 times a year; must be a member for 1 year prior to canceling. Bought four bottles here – a white, a rose, and two reds.
Tablas Creek – We’re here because our youngling wanted to pick up some wine for her dad, but they’re all sold out of the wine she wanted. I bought a present here for my brother, and it’s not wine. We had a picnic out front before we went in – two wineries and we’re feeling like we forgot to eat breakfast (which, since it was free, and filling, we most assuredly DID NOT forget to do).
Jada – Pretty winery. I think we’re on the Old Vineyard Road but I’m not sure. I bought olive oil and a zinfandel vinegar here as much for the bottles as for their contents.
Dover – Great dog! A huge St. Bernard is lolling on the grass out front, and there’s a rope swing. Too, too romantic. Bought a port here for Tom but it’s a huge 750ml bottle. Not what I’m used to.
Terri Hoag! Fell in love with their tasting glasses, and bought 4. Also bought a bottle of wine. Don’t remember what it was. Tasted good though I think. Um…
Ecluse Winery We had just an hour left before tasting rooms started to close down, so we hit up Ecluse, which was just up the road from Terry Hoag. They had Blind Dog Wine – one of the owners’ sons had a guide dog because he was deaf as well as a bit autistic I think (not totally sure). The dog was with the son for so long, that it went blind with age. I not only bought 2 bottles of the Blind Dog Wine without tasting it, but I also got a hat. Because a percentage of the proceeds went to Dogs for the Deaf. I also bought a bottle of something else – not that I remember what at this point…
(Did you notice how the more I tasted wine, the less notes on the wine I actually took? Hilarious!)
Sunday We had a great dinner last night at McPhee’s Grill. I had filet mignon in a bordelaise sauce, and we had wine with dinner…I think it was an Eberle. Not sure. I do know we didn’t finish it.
It’s overcast today – we just had breakfast. Soon we’ll head out to Cypher where I’ll spend far too much, and then on to Harmony.
And so it went… We did make it to Cypher, and I did spend too much money. Then we went to Harmony, where I spent more money. All in all, I shouldn’t buy another bottle of wine for at least 3 months…but since they were all over $10 a bottle, I’ll have to, won’t I, in order to keep up the blog?
In retrospect it was the perfect trip. We laughed ourselves silly, we sipped, we ate, we talked about deep and important things. We snored and cleaned our faces with interesting products and slept in and cursed the bad hotel coffee. We drank wine, and we bonded.
When I asked my hubby if he was sure I should go (because it was just weird, thinking about going to ANY wine country without him), he said of course. I needed time with women, he said. I work with 5 men. I live with 3 men. I need the bonding time.
And he was right. Thanks, Adina and Debbie, for a weekend I’ll never forget. Hugs!
by Christine | Life, Observations
It skulked in a high cupboard for decades, in a cream and black-striped box that used to hold a nice women’s coat, from back in the day when women’s coats used to come in nice big boxes. Mom had first brought it out to show me when I was six or seven, then reverently packed it away again. I forgot about it – marriage was in the far mists of my future.
I saw it again after I got engaged, and Mom and I talked about my wedding dress. I tried hers on, to make her feel useful (I was such a brat). It was pretty, but at the time a bit too old fashioned for me – stiff satin with a square neck and 3/4 length sleeves. In my defense, I was a very young bride-to-be – only 19, and with no concept of fashion outside of my pointe shoes and tights. In retrospect, I’d have looked killer in that dress after a fitting or two.
Time marched on. I had my wedding (during that awkward year, 1980 – slap between the hippy beach weddings of the 70’s and just prior to the huge, lavish, DYNASTY-type affairs of the mid-80’s) and a lovely brief honeymoon, but I didn’t wear Mom’s dress. Instead, it languished in its cupboard. The delicate headdress for the veil slowly turned yellow with age, and the heavy linen underskirt grew just a tiny bit brittle. They were in their own box, one that used to hold a blanket. The dress, like the boxes, was from the early 1950’s.
Decades passed. I had two children and many different careers, and only thought of Mom’s wedding dress when I saw my parents’ wedding picture. Then Mom died in 2007. After some time, we boxed up her clothes, divided up her jewelry, tossed out her makeup. But the wedding dress still waited in the high cupboard in the hallway, forgotten and much too high up for an old man and woman to worry about what was actually in that cupboard.
I didn’t think about my Mom’s dress again until one day this spring, when I visited my Dad. His roommate and caregiver had been doing an unusually thorough spring cleaning, and had found the boxes in their place in the hallway cupboard. Dad proudly gave them to me. I was at a loss. I had two young men at home, and not a daughter (or prospective daughter-in-law) in sight. But it was important for him to give them to me.
So I took the boxes home, thinking perhaps a successful costumer I know would like the dress. But somehow, the boxes stayed with me. First in the back of my car for weeks. Then they moved into the house, and in the heat of summer took up residence in front of my cold fireplace. Magazines and guitar picks and sheet music eventually got piled up on the boxes, and they were obscured – we became unsure about what was sitting there on the hearth.
Time passed and autumn approached. This past week, a fire was asked for, which meant the dress was unearthed from its resting place on the hearth – this time, to be moved to the end of the couch. As the hubby prepped the fireplace, I took the dress out, admired the length of the train, the stiffness of the satin, the cut of the neckline. I didn’t bother to hold it against me, as the waist was impossibly tiny for my now-middle-aged figure; and I knew finally a deep reluctance to part with it.
“Perhaps my niece Sara would appreciate it. She has two girls,” I offered. My husband gave a noncommittal grunt. Perhaps Sara would want it. It would at least stay in the family that way.
But I didn’t contact her. I know the dress deserves better. I know there are places that will clean and then preserve the dress in a vacuum-sealed bag (which is how my wedding dress is packed – it hides under my bed). I know some costumer would probably drool over this dress.
As the last bit of my mother’s youth, though, and as I look at my own long-gone youth in the rear-view mirror, my mother’s wedding dress has become a symbol of all her love, hopes, dreams, wishes and desires.
I am never sentimental about my mother; but I find I just can’t part with it. So for now, and my guess is until it becomes imperative at Christmas, the boxes containing my mother’s wedding dress, underskirt and veil will remain on the edge of my couch, making her once again a part of my life.
Love you, Mom. Always.
by Christine | Uncategorized, Wine Friday
Unemployment is still high, the politicians are still wrangling, and Friday comes as we all breathe a sigh of relief. I’m here to talk about wines – the good, the bad, the truly awful – and better yet, they’re affordable. Most are under $10 and can be found in your local grocery store.
With Thanksgiving coming up, and a weekend of wine tasting under my belt (that’s another post…), I’ve got a couple of Rose´s to discuss. It was a hot topic at the wineries, with many wineries featured a Rose´ to my surprise, because those same wineries didn’t have the Rose´s out in March. So between now and Thanksgiving, I’ll be sharing my thoughts on Rose´s both from the grocery store, and from the wineries. Because it’s never too early to plan the wine for the meal.
Cypher Pistil Paso Robles, 2010, $17.60 at the winery Alcohol 14.8% by volume – pre-released only for club members due to limited production (I’m a Freak Club Member)
On the Label: “Eclectic Rose Wine Produced & Bottled by Cypher Winery Paso Robles, CA cypherwinery.com
My Take: I loved this wine this past weekend, when I visted the winery. And maybe a tiny part of me bought it because my hubby likes Rose´ and he wasn’t with me. OR, maybe I bought it because it was the first of only two wineries on Sunday, and I was still drunk from the day and night before. Whatever….
The bottle is cool; the front “label” is on the inside, pink snakeskin with the word CYPHER down the middle (what you see in the picture above is the back label). The color of the wine is a pale pink – the blush of a fair-skinned bride, or the color of dawn on a cold winter morning. The scent – is vaguely flowery and alcoholic. The taste? Um…like a steel-casked Chardonnay. Kind of. Maybe.
We had it with turkey-sage meatloafettes and smashed potatoes. The hubby raved about the potatoes, liked the meatloafettes, and didn’t comment on the wine until I asked him. And he said it did its job – cleaned his palate between bites, but otherwise kind of bland. And I couldn’t disagree. Maybe it’s the high alcohol content that is overpowering the delicacy of this wine? I don’t know.
My Rating: ~ Drinkable ~ Such a disappointment overall. I don’t believe Rose´ improves with age (but I don’t know that for a fact); if I head out to Cypher next spring, I’ll definitely give it another taste, since I have a pre-release bottle. If I’d been totally aware of that, I’d have suggested to hubby that we wait to open this bottle. But then again, life’s too short to save the good wine.
Penrosa Tempranillo Rose´2009, product of Spain. Fresh and Easy, on closeout at
$3.99. Alcohol 11.5% by volume.
On the Label: “Spain is producing some of the finest rose´wines in the world due to their beautifully ripe grapes and new modern winemaking practices. This rose has been made to be the perfect al fresco refresher on long hot summer days.”
My Take: I’m a fan of this wine, and yet – having it side by side with the Cypher, I have to admit that this is a juvenile wine. Young, bursting with fruit, flirty, it is unpretentious and – as advertised – perfect on a hot summer day when you’re sitting by the pool. It makes the Cypher taste much more sophisticated, but some days you just want to sip strawberries in a glass, you know? The low alcohol content is nice, too.
My Rating: ~ Drinkable ~
Um…it just dawned on me that I might have reviewed this wine earlier. If so, well then…there you go!
All in all, I don’t think either of these is a good wine for Turkey Day. I much prefer white to start with as I cook, and then switching to a good Pinot Noir – my comfort wine, if you will – to sip with the meal.
But luckily there are a few weeks to go before that all important Thanksgiving meal. I’ll fling some more choices your way as we go along.
As usual, this is just my honest opinion and will totally depend upon my mood, the songs hubby is playing on the guitar as I write, and what bills I’ve just paid. Your taste buds will differ.
~ Until the next time, cheers – and remember to drink responsibly! ~
Demon Soul is available for the Kindle and the Nook! Get your copy today!
by Christine | Wine Friday
In these days of high unemployment and global financial crisis, it’s nice to relax with a bottle of wine that doesn’t break your pocketbook. I’m here to sort out the memorable from the truly awful, and each bottle is under $10.
So, last weekend, while the hubby was away auditioning for the Utah Shakespeare Festival and one Young Man was off to spend the night prior to a day of LARPing and the other furiously writing for his critique group, I decided to try some wines I hadn’t tried yet. Three days, three bottles. What could possibly go wrong?
Friday, I started with Jargon Pinot Noir 2009, St. Helena, California Alcohol 13.5% by volume $8.99 at Vons
On the Label: “We can go on and on and tell you about our Terroir (it’s incredible) and about the quality of our PINOT NOIR fruit (it’s awesome), but we won’t. We let our Pinot Noir speak for itself. So cut through all the complicated wine speak and enjoy…JUST GOOD WINE.”
My Take: It has a fun label. It has a screw top. It’s a Pinot Noir. What’s not to like? There’s a lovely feel to this wine in my mouth – it’s got some cherry in it, some of the pepper I like, it’s not meek but it’s not a big, huge, bold wine either (because, you know, Pinot just isn’t that way). It’s a great kick-off-your-shoes, hi-honey-I’m-home, and TGIF wine. I had to really pace myself and only drink two glasses of it on Friday night. Not sure what I made to go with it … I do remember that I ate alone, which gave me visions of an empty nest. Interesting…
My Rating: ~ Very Drinkable ~
Now, on to Saturday.
Cline Zinfandel 2010 California Alcohol 14% by volume $9.99 at Vons on Sale
On the Label: “CLINE Family owned and operated since 1982. From meticulous farming to master winemaking, we still do it all the old fashioned way and it shows. Bright, jammy cherry, dark berry fruit and spice with a touch of warm vanilla define this complex yet approachable Cline Zin. Supple tannins and a smooth finish lend structure and ageability. Try with grilled steak, chili con carne or spaghetti and red sauce.”
My Take: I was perfectly prepared to love this wine, so imagine my surprise when, serving it with garlic chicken, it left me…wanting. I didn’t taste the bright cherry or the spice…I tasted minerals. Heavy minerals that left a heavy taste in my mouth. Maybe it was the high alcohol content?
I duly drank my first glass, and then switched back to the Jargon from the night before. Ahhhh….much better. Also better was the company at dinner – I wasn’t completely alone. However, when the boys and I eat sans their papa, we tend to read at dinner…all three of us reading a different, yet very thick novel of some sort or another. I always shed a tiny tear of pride at those meals…
My Take ~ Drinkable, if you like the minerally taste. ~ I don’t know. Maybe it needs more time – it WAS a 2010. But if it needs more time, why is it on the shelves now? I can only roll my eyes…
Which brings me to Sunday…
Concannon Central Coast Pinot Noir Established 1883 in the Livermore Valley Alcohol 13.5% by volume $9.99 at Vons.
On the Label: “Roots. Rocks. Intrigue. Since 1883, Concannon Vineyard has been handcrafting fine varietal wines from grapes grown along the Central Coast of California, a diverse region that stretches north from Santa Barbara to the San Francisco Bay. We carefully select the most ideal vineyards for growing each varietal and craft this expressive fruit into superb wines.
Our medium-bodied Pinot Noir is bursting with aromas of violet, cherry, earth and spice with an elegant and supple finish. Enjoy our Selected Vineyards Pinot Noir with dishes like herb-crusted lamb chops or plank-grilled salmon.”
My Take: Prior to starting dinner, I didn’t really want to open this bottle so I had a small glass of the Cline Zinfandel. And as soon as I was done with that, I opened the Concannon with a sigh of relief.
It smells lovely in the glass. It bursts on the tongue with bright flavors and a mellowness that allows you to relax – this is not a demanding wine, but rather a pleasure wine, asking only that you enjoy it. I’m thinking now that maybe all Pinot Noirs are of this variety – undemanding of the consumer. But I digress…
Again, a reading dinner, this time with a fall veggie mix and whole-wheat pasta with fresh parmesan on top and – of course – garlic bread, made the Sicilian way. Which is…toast a baguette sliced in half until well toasted, then rub a large clove of garlic into the toasted side. The garlic kind of melts into the bread. Top it off with a sprinkling of olive oil (and pepper if you desire, which I do!), and you’ve got a feast fit for a king, even if you’re just serving the garlic bread and the wine. And the wine? Mmmmm.
My Rating: ~ Very Drinkable ~ But of these three, the Jargon is my hands-down favorite.
So, I survived my weekend alone. And on Monday, the hubby very kindly finished up all my open bottles – even the Cline. After all, he’d been in Mormon Country for the past three days.
Now…Tomorrow, the lovely New Day Job is letting me off half a day early to drive up to Paso Robles for Wine Release Weekend. Three girls on the open road, ready to taste wine. I promise I’ll bring my notepad…
~ ~ ~
As usual, this is just my honest opinion and depend upon my mood, the weather, and whether there’s a full moon or not. Your taste buds will differ.
~ Until the next time, cheers – and remember to drink responsibly! ~
Demon Soul is available for the Kindle and the Nook, not to mention in paperback!! Get your copy today!
by Christine | Life, Uncategorized
No, it’s not a new reality TV show about illegal aliens trying to keep their job at a greasy spoon…(‘scuse me, now taking a call from the Kardashians…) where was I? Oh yeah.
So, my dishwasher finally died. After sixteen years and one appliance-repair call for $100 9 years ago, it just stopped cleaning the dishes. We therefore stopped using it, I raided my 401K plan, and prior to going to the stores to find my new dishwasher, I shopped online.
Found it almost immediately. A gorgeous, totally stainless-steel inside and out, whisper-quiet model with racks that adjust up and down, more silverware holders than you can shake a stick at, and the bottom has NO open heating elements. Which means, I won’t be burning plastic utensils at the bottom of the dishwasher any time soon (yay, me!).
I found this paragon of dishwashing online on a Tuesday; we couldn’t go shopping until Saturday. So I rolled up my metaphorical sleeves and washed dishes by hand as I hadn’t done in too many years. There’s a meditative quality to the hot soapy water, the rhythmic scrubbing, the rinsing. I have what my mother didn’t, a window over my sink, so I could look out at the neighborhood as I scrubbed and meditated.
Over the next few days, my Young Men washed the dishes in turn. But somehow, the dishes rarely came out clean. “No. Start with hot, SOAPY water. Do all the glassware first, while the water is still clean. Then move to utensils, then plates and bowls, and then at the very end, the pots and pans.”
Day after day, I found myself rewashing dishes. Saturday finally came though, and in high spirits, we went out to hunt for the wild and yet quite perfect dishwasher. Not only did we find it, but it was on sale – and for less than it had been online! I was such a happy girl. Until they told me it wasn’t in stock, and we’d have to wait. Mid-week, most likely. Oh, and we’d have to pay for the stuff the plumber would need. And of course, after the plumber installs the dishwasher, we have to have the city come out and make sure they did it right so our house doesn’t blow up.
Um. Okay…So I signed all the paperwork, and handed over my debit card, and walked out the proud possessor of – paperwork. And a promise of a phone call for when the dishwasher came into the warehouse – mid-week. Definitely.
The dishwasher did come in to the warehouse mid week, but the plumber couldn’t install it until ten days later at the earliest. Ooookay. So the incompetent dish washing – well, it does get better, but only because I’m carping at the boys – excuse me, Young Men – to use hot soapy water. All. The. Time.
By the time the dishwasher and the plumber finally arrive, there’s another problem. Apparently there’s a bubbler – some sort of air thingie – that has to be installed that the Big Box Store didn’t tell us about. So not only did the plumber take our dishwasher away, he wanted another $70 for the part – and couldn’t come back for another 5 days!
By this time, I’m beginning to believe that washing dishes by hand, something I grew up doing, is a guaranteed thing for the rest of my life. I cannot conceive of actually using a dishwasher again because it has been so long…I feel in the dark ages of my childhood…a side benefit, however, is everyone’s attention to really cleaning up the kitchen each night before we go to bed. (I know. This is a DUH. But somehow with the dishwasher we got lazy.)
Finally, however, the plumber came back, with the right part, and installed everything. Except – the bubbler took the place of our sprayer (we have a four-hole kitchen faucet). And the plumber couldn’t cap off the hot water line to the sprayer because he didn’t have the right widget to do it. He said if we bought a new faucet, he’d install it for $70 and take care of the extra line that way.
Now, no dissing the plumber – he was, according to my husband, a hard-working man and his sons were also in the business with him. We never got charged the extra $70 for the bubbler, either. But…that night, our first with the new dishwasher, hubby and I went faucet shopping.
Which caused another issue. We have short sinks – it took us TEN YEARS to find a simple, tall faucet. And when we went to Big Box Store and looked at all the faucets, the one our eyes kept going back to was the very one already installed in our kitchen – the one with the rogue sprayer. We needed a 3 hole faucet and we couldn’t find one that suited.
We decided, in our exhaustion, to let everything be. At some point we need to have the city come out; at some point we need to figure out the faucet situation. But for right now, everything that usually goes under the sink is in a laundry tub in front of the breakfast bar.
As for the new dishwasher; it’s complicated. I mean that, too. Not only is running it complicated (I had to read the directions three times – glasses helped), but loading it is complicated. My Younger Young Man complained about being the first person to load it. “I don’t know where anything goes,” he said.
The new dishwasher and the family are taking it slow. It seems to prefer a rinsing agent; I prefer not to spend the money, but hate spotty glasses. I see purchasing a rinsing agent in my future.
Welcome to my life. It’s…complicated.
