Muscadet. Do I Taste Seashells or is it Just a Fluke?
Chapter Sixteen. Part Twelve.
The Muscadet wine region surrounds the French city of Nantes, where the Loire River meets the Atlantic Ocean. This is the westernmost of the Loire Valley appellations and is the home to the Melon de Bourgogne grape. As the name implies, Melon de Bourgogne originated in Burgundy but despite the other half of its name, it has no connection to the cantaloupe.
Read MoreThe Best of WineSnark 2016
“Whenever I think of the past, it brings back so many memories.” Steven Wright
I’m sorry to report that it’s that time of year again – time for the annual “Best Of WineSnark”. It’s been nearly three years since I first put pun to paper for this blog and most nights I still find myself thoughtfully staring into the monitor, a glass of wine in hand, thinking, “I wonder what’s on HBO tonight?”
Over the past year this blog has prompted trips to several wine regions and resulted in the consumption of some incredible wine. Unpaid I might add. On some of my posts I received analytical assistance from a group of certified sommeliers. Oops, did I say sommeliers? I meant drunks. The fact is, on many occasions I do find myself drinking with sommeliers and it has made me appreciate what I like most about wine, namely, drinking it alone.
Read MoreChristmas with Graham’s Port – Oh, and the Family’s Coming Too
The holidays are all about sharing. I get together with my family on Christmas and we share fine wines, great food, and several strains of influenza. Even though I’m blessed with a terrific family, surviving the holidays can be challenging. To get through Christmas I have to muster up every ounce of courage and several ounces of bourbon.
Our Thanksgiving celebration was weeks ago and the wounds have healed nicely – although the turkey may disagree. The rest of us are speaking again and the ER doctor did a great job on my brother-in-law’s stitches.
This Christmas I invited some distant relatives. Not “second cousin twice removed” distant. By “distant” I mean they don’t like me very much. I promised my wife I wouldn’t be baited into any confrontations and when the most combative relative of all arrives I will greet her with a cheery “Merry Christmas Mom.”
In a moment of inspired masochism I invited my cousin Eddie and his new wife Yolanda. I’m not saying the marriage is off to a bad start but their wedding song was “The Thrill is Gone.” Yolanda used to drive Eddie to drink, but that stopped when he got his driver’s license back.
Read More‘Twas the Night Before the ‘Wine of the Year’ Was Announced
‘Twas the night before Christmas and all through the winery,
my tasting room staff wore their holiday finery.
The sales were outstanding. ‘Twas like nothing before.
All the wines (even Merlot) seemed to fly out the door.
My winemaker fretted as the deadline drew near.
Wine Spectator 100, would this be the year?
To be on that list would be so prestigious.
But another year missed would be so egregious.
Then out in the vineyard there arose such a clatter.
I feared it was mildew, Pierce’s or shatter.
There, atop a small sleigh that defied quantum physics,
sat a round, bearded man and eight tiny critics.
They were chuggin’ down Harlan, the music was crankin’.
I knew in a moment it had to be Shanken.
Read MoreAll Beaujolais Is Burgundy But Not All Burgundy Is Beaujolais
Chapter Sixteen. Part Nine.
Every November Beaujolais Nouveau simultaneously arrives at wine shops, supermarkets, restaurants and bars all over the world. This special day reminds my generation of a simpler time, a time when we
drank cheap, unpretentious wines and missed work the next day. Beaujolais Nouveau has lost much of its appeal but it’s still a fall tradition, an autumnal ritual, a seasonal custom that ranks right up there with getting a flu shot.
