A strangely comforting light red. Velvet, smooth color with a breezy, enticing nose promising ghostly fruit to inhabit the palate. The character of this wine sits and relaxes with its sipper. Sedated tannins, and luminous red fruit complemented by an agreeable acidic aesthetic. Admiring the color again. Light, lovely, and lively. The finish is spell-like, forcing me to sip, sip. Subtle earthiness supporting fruit, propelling the longevity of the finish into the early stages of next sip. Truly well-rounded and delightful in composition and delivery. The suppleness of the notes does not even minutely squander or crumble. Impressive and inspiring consistency.
VJB has not once disappointed me, so I was not surprised that when I sipped this classic varietal from the Old Country I found myself addled and enamored. Sip, sip...
Friday, March 12, 2010
Thursday, March 11, 2010
P.M. 100
Had a great time at the Enkidu “mixer.” I continue to praise them, and will do so with this entry. The staff: pleasant, informative, accommodating, genuine. The Room is small, but comfortable, not overwhelming with trinkets and flyers with microscopic print. And the wines...oh, where do I ignite my adoration? Hope they don’t get sick of me, as I conspire to return, again, again...
The appetizers provided were more that ambrosial. I had trouble refraining, honestly. I was almost concerned that I took steps back to the table too frequently. What a conjuring tide. Thank-a-you, Enkidu.
The appetizers provided were more that ambrosial. I had trouble refraining, honestly. I was almost concerned that I took steps back to the table too frequently. What a conjuring tide. Thank-a-you, Enkidu.
Words Wined, Recited, and Invited
Sip Chardonnay from Burgundy, off to orate on
Bourbon Street. Rime whatever I can. Time,
wherever I plan. No longer stand. My own fan, carrying
contraband, on the tran only to be banned, can’t
understand. Exhausted from this deceptive game board,
not sure I can play more, decided I need to relish the day more.
But what can I do anew? Wish the machine adieu. New
bullion, off and on to pursue the true. Refuse to pay
due to a rouse. The bastion lacks yoke. How many readers
can I really reach if I get lost in my own speech?
Cursory brilliance. Murder me, still win, I do. Why
you? ‘Cause I’m me. Why flee from this secrecy? No
critic dares to bother me. Victim of robbery, possibly.
Madigan pedagogy, a stronger thing. Profound offering. Sing
through verse, even if it hurts. This is the duty I’ll never
shirk. Dirt in gun, maybe too hurt to run. A fallen son. Done.
Cote du Rhone, sipping. Own thrown, clipping wings
of those that oppose and chose me for artistry rivalry.
Take time with rime and sign no line. Too much, almost
broke the glass. Cloak too fast with this juice. Repeat
myself, delete my wealth with vigor, poise. Too much
noise. Television and guns, no time for such toys. A new
day, Tuesday, only three left to regret. Unhinged
fringe, a certain binge, of the pen man. The then-man, again
when I ransack, attack, propel intentional flack. No foe
escaping through cracks. I’ve been taping through maps,
in search of what, not sure. Perhaps something impure. What if
I have a fling on tour, reading volumes in tall rooms?
Four more lines, score more fines. Dismiss the cops, the
journalism never stops. A leopard in trees, I’m like
feathers in breeze. Devils tease. No ‘please’. My
manuscripts expand across land like disease, fire or freeze.
Bourbon Street. Rime whatever I can. Time,
wherever I plan. No longer stand. My own fan, carrying
contraband, on the tran only to be banned, can’t
understand. Exhausted from this deceptive game board,
not sure I can play more, decided I need to relish the day more.
But what can I do anew? Wish the machine adieu. New
bullion, off and on to pursue the true. Refuse to pay
due to a rouse. The bastion lacks yoke. How many readers
can I really reach if I get lost in my own speech?
Cursory brilliance. Murder me, still win, I do. Why
you? ‘Cause I’m me. Why flee from this secrecy? No
critic dares to bother me. Victim of robbery, possibly.
Madigan pedagogy, a stronger thing. Profound offering. Sing
through verse, even if it hurts. This is the duty I’ll never
shirk. Dirt in gun, maybe too hurt to run. A fallen son. Done.
Cote du Rhone, sipping. Own thrown, clipping wings
of those that oppose and chose me for artistry rivalry.
Take time with rime and sign no line. Too much, almost
broke the glass. Cloak too fast with this juice. Repeat
myself, delete my wealth with vigor, poise. Too much
noise. Television and guns, no time for such toys. A new
day, Tuesday, only three left to regret. Unhinged
fringe, a certain binge, of the pen man. The then-man, again
when I ransack, attack, propel intentional flack. No foe
escaping through cracks. I’ve been taping through maps,
in search of what, not sure. Perhaps something impure. What if
I have a fling on tour, reading volumes in tall rooms?
Four more lines, score more fines. Dismiss the cops, the
journalism never stops. A leopard in trees, I’m like
feathers in breeze. Devils tease. No ‘please’. My
manuscripts expand across land like disease, fire or freeze.
Wednesday, March 10, 2010
Midday 100: “the fig cafe”
Meant to devote a praiseful entry to this chic little Glen Ellen eatery, but never sat to scribe. The ambience, immediately upon entry, is comfortable. Upscale, but quite humble. The menu offers everything from eggs to steak, salads to a burger (one of the best burgers I’ve ever had, I might add) for brunch, my recent dining time. For dinner, which I’ve had several times, they have outstandingly flavorful calamari, that same burger, artisan pizzas, salads, chicken, mussels, along side other temptations. Another aspect of this little spot on Arnold Drive is that their wine list is comprised of strictly Rhone varietals. But even if you’re a stubborn Bordeaux bull, bring a bottle of your own. No corkage! The service, more than pleasant. Always a caring and charismatic cafe.
Tuesday, March 9, 2010
Review of Imagery, 2005 Pallas, Sonoma Valley
“My 70/30 Saint”
Pallas Athena, goddess of wisdom. A warranted name tag, I assure you. Inventory quantity frighteningly low, this goddess, boasting a blend of 70% Cabernet and 30% Malbec, shares a sexy structure and playful persona. Erotic hue, night-like in the glass. She’s mellow, but, no surprise, wise. Curing, alluring. She’s my 70/30 saint. The nose, deep, rich, but not exceedingly flamboyant. The mouthfeel and mid provide dark fruit, slightly aged leather, oak and cold earth. Mint hint? The finish is somewhat short, but still enjoyable in all notes. My 70/30 sweetie, warranting composition and dissemination of a new myth. She’s made me a follower. As Imagery embraces art, so does this bottle, its contents.
Upon succeeding sips, she discloses a spicy side, slightly herbaceous, more even in finish’s tannins and layers. The back-palate also gyrates and maneuvers more playfully, antagonistically than in prior tastes. She was dancing, but now sits to speak to the palate. How could I forget this Cab/Malbec net? Her balance, now established. I can appreciate both varietals in this blend, their corresponding characteristics. A sound and consistent character, demanding attention from the sipper. Notes of vanilla now flutter. Smoothness harnessed to the goddess. Her wisdom continues to twist me pleasurably. The sexy saint now provokes reflection, introspection. In the presence of a goddess, how do I appropriately evaluate delectable divinity? So animated as I sip and scribble, I have my Self entangled, magically mangled.
Wonderful balance, start to end. She’ll make you want to sip again. Worthy of the goddess name. Could be paired with anything from a slightly spicy pasta or peppered steak to a seasoned fish dish. Celestial indeed. One of the more solid Bordeaux blends, containing only two grapes, with which I’ve recently collided and coincided. Want to sip more, but don’t. Having a glass or two tomorrow would be a treat. How will she change? How ever she wants. She’s a goddess, in control.
(Review Composed on Tuesday March 9, 2010)
Pallas Athena, goddess of wisdom. A warranted name tag, I assure you. Inventory quantity frighteningly low, this goddess, boasting a blend of 70% Cabernet and 30% Malbec, shares a sexy structure and playful persona. Erotic hue, night-like in the glass. She’s mellow, but, no surprise, wise. Curing, alluring. She’s my 70/30 saint. The nose, deep, rich, but not exceedingly flamboyant. The mouthfeel and mid provide dark fruit, slightly aged leather, oak and cold earth. Mint hint? The finish is somewhat short, but still enjoyable in all notes. My 70/30 sweetie, warranting composition and dissemination of a new myth. She’s made me a follower. As Imagery embraces art, so does this bottle, its contents.
Upon succeeding sips, she discloses a spicy side, slightly herbaceous, more even in finish’s tannins and layers. The back-palate also gyrates and maneuvers more playfully, antagonistically than in prior tastes. She was dancing, but now sits to speak to the palate. How could I forget this Cab/Malbec net? Her balance, now established. I can appreciate both varietals in this blend, their corresponding characteristics. A sound and consistent character, demanding attention from the sipper. Notes of vanilla now flutter. Smoothness harnessed to the goddess. Her wisdom continues to twist me pleasurably. The sexy saint now provokes reflection, introspection. In the presence of a goddess, how do I appropriately evaluate delectable divinity? So animated as I sip and scribble, I have my Self entangled, magically mangled.
Wonderful balance, start to end. She’ll make you want to sip again. Worthy of the goddess name. Could be paired with anything from a slightly spicy pasta or peppered steak to a seasoned fish dish. Celestial indeed. One of the more solid Bordeaux blends, containing only two grapes, with which I’ve recently collided and coincided. Want to sip more, but don’t. Having a glass or two tomorrow would be a treat. How will she change? How ever she wants. She’s a goddess, in control.
(Review Composed on Tuesday March 9, 2010)
Midday 100, Pt. II
Back from a drive in the valley. Chose another wine to review. A new chosen bottle in cue. Delighted. This’ll be my first “official” review in a some moments. But, I’m thrilled to do so. Spoke with a lady in the Room of the chosen bottle’s winery about different varietals, the upcoming barrel weekend, Napa. She made an interesting point about Cabernet lovers, and how particular they are. Hilarious, and surprising, because I’ve for a while been noticing the very same. I guess you could call this generalizing, profiling, stereotyping, but it appears to be startlingly accurate. Pinot drinkers tend to be in love with the varietal solely as a result of its recent climb in acclaim. Wine writers, like myself, just like to hear themselves talk.
Tired. May have to race off the radar for a while...
Tired. May have to race off the radar for a while...
Midday 100
Went to The Wine Emporium, in Sebastopol. Picked up a Bordeaux blend that I’m hoping to deconstruct today. Or tonight. That little, or not so little, wine shop is a truly comfortable, and quite Human, diamond in an industry otherwise stroked by arrogance and salivating salespeople. The shop is owned by an old buddy, James. They were actually closed to the public today, but opened their doors to me, to aid me in my Bordeaux quest. I could see myself owning a little Room like that, maybe. Not sure if I could emulate the masterful job of Mr. James, and his accommodating crew of versed wine admirers. Before the trip to Sunriver, I bought a Malbec there, per the suggestion of the associate there today. Easily in the top ten of my Malbec cannon. Off to look for more wines to review. Boutique, think small prod, specialty, underground. Where will this take me? Feeling charged today, propelled. Poetry in my person, voracity in my version...
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