I don't know much about wine tasting. But I did spend four years in central coast wine country as an undergraduate, so I do know that the vineyards that run along the highways between home and school look like green seas in the summer and gold corduroy in the winter. I know that, in retrospect, minoring in viticulture would have upped my cool points by half. I know that slurping wine is the best way to aerate it, but this is typically frowned upon in polite company. I know that a nice bubbly pairs well with almost anything (my former editor told me that), and I know that if I had it my way, I'd pair it with everything. I know how to use a corkscrew, and I know people who know how to open wine without one (it involves some complicated physics, a good aim, and the possibility for a great deal of mess).
So, like I said, I don't know much, but it was Friday, and I asked the guy at the wine shop for his recommendation. After a series of questions (Question #1: "What do you want your wine to do?" "Eh...be enjoyed by me?"), he presented me with The Reveler, a "reverse Bordeaux" from Washington. I proceeded to drink with distinction. D made dinner.
I'm positive wine label writers are close cousins of poets. They both like fancy words, they frequently make no sense, and they have a great appreciation for a bottle of wine. This one lacked the little blurb on the back, so I made one up, based on my own tasting notes:
From the red, wrinkled leavesSeriously, that's what it tasted like. It tasted like Washington.
in the valley comes
a rinsed tin cup, an evening
of split twigs and wet stones,
and a summer song dressed
in sweaters, ready.