Sunday, July 19, 2015

Sour Grapes

I am no wine aficionado.  Nor do I pretend to be one.  I didn't stay in a Holiday Inn Express last night either so that definitely eliminates me from the group entirely.  I do however, enjoy a nice glass of vino around the dinner hour.

I am not finicky about my selections but I know what tastes good to my untrained palate.  My wine of choice has varied over the years.  In my twenties I leaned towards the sweet and cheap.  (Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill was a staple in my dorm room closet.)  But over the years as my taste matured I moved to the opposite end of the spectrum sipping Chardonnay and the full bodied reds.

Then the headaches struck and I backed off of the reds.  The headaches continued so out went the chardonnay.  Once again I shifted toward the lighter, sweeter wines.  White Zinfandel seemed to be a good fit...for a time.

My current wine of choice is sauvignon blanc.  Still on the lighter side but much drier and not headache inducing.

Last week I found myself out of vino.  It was a crisis of minor proportions.  You have to understand that my summer residency is in a state that holds a tight reign on all alcohol sales.  There is no running to the local Publix or Piggly Wiggly to grab a bottle or two for dinner.  When you live on a lake near a town with one stop light there is no state run store to be found thus advance planning is not only helpful but critical.

On this evening after a day of hard labor stacking wood we enjoyed a quick dinner out on the Ohio side of the lake.  Ohio is a state that has come to its senses permitting wine sales in local grocery stores.  As we exited the restaurant The Kid pointed out that there was little convenience store two doors away where I could procure some wine.

I knew I was in trouble when I walked in the door and came face to face with shelves lined with bottle after bottle of Arbor Mist, Boone's Farm and Thunderbird.  I should have thrown in the towel right then and there, but oh no, I'm nothing if not persistant.  After a thorough search I found something of interest.  On a bottom shelf.  Covered in dust.  A nice little Riesling.  "This will do," I chirped and snatched up a bottle (or maybe two.)

I popped the cork on Friday evening.

Apparently what I failed to take note of while I was blowing the dust off the bottle was the little tag line on the label.  The one in bold capital letters that read "REFRESHINGLY SWEET."

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The stuff was nasty!  Sickeningly sweet with a hint of I've been sitting on the shelf too long.

I couldn't drink it.

"Don't throw it out," The Kid insisted.  "One of these days you will be desperate and you'll drink it."

Seriously?

Has it come to that?

Maybe the next time I should just reach for the Thunderbird and save a buck a two.


1 comment:

James Evans said...

So - was the Kid right? Did you save it or pitch it! Great story. Were you smiling while writing it or angry and thirsty!