Proud to be a Wine Club Member

We, the wine-club members of America, are the true patriots. We're keeping small wineries in business almost single handedly. Together, we can turn this thing right around.

Of course, the real key is to drink it as soon as it comes...and then order more!

I'd like to thank the academy

I can't believe it! I won something! And I can attribute it solely to my love of wine, nerdy fascination with viticulture (though I have a black thumb, myself), and my unnatural addiction to Twitter.

The next time somebody mocks me (I'm talking about you Carrie - and YOU Michael) for Tweeting while out and about, I will point to winning VinoVerve's contest as a sign that this is not a completely vapid past time.

I can even explain that the micro-blogging habit leads me to update this blog a couple of times per year. The others remain neglected today, of course, and though I haven't had my NY guy update my "professional" site in years (stupid Dreamweaver) I somehow still get writing assignments and voice work. (hmph!) At least the wine blog now has a recent entry so people know that I'm actually still alive.

And, it's all thanks to Twitter. So there.

Possible Theme Song

My Twitter pal WineWoman turned me on to this tune (link to YouTube video below) saying it could be her theme song. It's fun - and it's followed by a mystery song, that I think could be a theme song for me, if my theme song could be played and crooned by Stick McGhee, and we'd dated, and he was lamenting how fickle I am.



I don't know the name of the second song (my potential theme song). If you do, let me know. I'll have a prize for you.

UPDATE: Apparently I didn't watch the "video" - only listened. So, I missed that the name of "my" song is I'd Rather Drink Muddy Water.

Desperate Times Call for Desperate Measures

I have plenty of wine here, plus gin, tequila, and six types of rum, but somehow no bourbon. How is that even possible?

If the kid gets back and isn't thrown in the pokey, we'll be havin' Southern Pecan Pie with Bourbon-Honey whipped cream TONIGHT at Alex and Paige's.

It's less than three miles down the parkway. How likely is he to really get caught, huh?

I Love Fresh Air

I have a rather annoying (to some) habit. It's a preference of mine and it's kind of a litmus test for my travel companions.

I am a window opener. It's the first thing I do when I arrive someplace on vacation. Whether it's Lake Las Vegas, Mexico, the Bahamas, or Key West, I'm on the terrace, enjoying the outdoors. I don't like to be cooped up and the trip over on the plane is almost more than I can bear.

I almost loathe A/C. In fact, I drive a convertible because I like outside air. I don't actually enjoy being tan all the time. I just can't help it. Got a lot of melanin.

So...as one would expect, upon arrival I threw open the sliding glass door. We started talking about sleeping with the door open all night, enjoying the island breezes, and listening to the ocean right outside. I was thrilled! Rapture, really.

As we prepared to leave for dinner, I decided to lock up because it would be so easy to climb over the wall to our patio and stroll into our room and steal our welcome chocolates - or our gin.
So, I was closing the door and some weird leaf fell down and hit me in the face and landed in between my tank top and my lei. I stopped and looked down to remove it and the leaf jumped up off my chest and hit me in the eye. I screamed so loud (like a girl, even!) that Nana came running out of the bathroom to see what seaweed monster was dragging me off.

By that time, I had grabbed the gecko off my chest and tried to fling it out into the grass. It had other ideas and had run up my arm and jumped back into the drapes.

You might think it was a gecko like this (because there are tons of them around the property):

But it was a gecko more like THIS!

I have to assume that it ran outside...startled by my high-pitched shriek and frenzied, mindless efforts to kill it. (I wouldn't normally do that, but fight or flight was kicking in.)

We ended up keeping the door closed while we were sleeping, much to my disappointment. I just couldn't in good conscience leave it open and risk Nana being carted away by giant, muscle-bound, ill-tempered, mutant geckos.

Each morning, we greeted the day by opening the room up and each evening, before bed, we solemnly closed - and locked (did I mention the opposable thumbs on that green monster?) - the door.

Later we ran across this sign.

Now they tell us.

What I'm Drinking

I've settled in for a nice evening with a little of the Pied Violet 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon, a really garlicky salad with grilled chicken, and some 24 and hottie Jack Bauer. They're all surprisingly good together.

So, I'm bragging to my friend on the phone that I'm drinking the sold out Cab tonight, starting Season 4, and how delicious it all is and I look down and realize that I'd accidentally grabbed the Merlot from the wine basement.

Turns out the Merlot is even better with the salad - and the watermelon - and I'm actually quite grateful to learn this, because it's still available and I can continue to be uncharacteristically stingy with my last six bottles of the Cab.

The first night the whole gang met up in Maui - and at convention - I'd been a little cranky because I saw the beautiful Purple Foot label and each time I'd bellied up to the bar, visibly excited about having some of the Cabernet--and was met with the Merlot. In Maui (see above and below) I was mocked for my diva behavior. How dare they make fun of me for being so ridiculously opinionated and enthusiastic!
I didn't exactly drink the Merlot grudgingly... but I am still convinced that the Cab would have been better with the pate on pita, the fantastic goat cheese and grape tomato skewers, as well as with the delicious petite filets and the chocolate mousse.

When they said "sold out" they must have meant it.

Happy Birthday to Me!

So my wonderful family hosted a birthday dinner for me last night. Val attended and bonded with Gavin.














Nana was there, as she so often is for this August birthday. And, I got to choose anything I wanted for dinner. With an eye toward wearing a bathing suit next week, I opted for an ambitious array of special appetizers, delicious grilled shrimp on caesar salad, a family specialty, and crepe suzette, my favorite birthday dessert since childhood. Unlike last year, we had no fiery mishaps.

We also discussed the fun of growing up with a mom who is a gourmet. Two foodie (and drinkie) parents lends itself to interesting culinary preferences at a young age. How many 8-year-olds prefer a dessert en flambe to a birthday cake?

We reminisced over other boozy faves like cherries jubilee and cocoa amaretto mousse. We laughed about what our grade-school teachers must have thought of our creative writing assignments, peppered as they were with references to these drunken desserts, Brandy Alexanders, Golden Dreams, and Mudslides.

Stories abound of us sneaking extra servings of Cold Duck, Lancer's, or other special-occasion libations and being a little tipsy as we were sent to bed. I'm sure the 'rents are horrified by the confessions, but it's true! Besides, it's hard to keep an eye on four children during a dinner celebration and, frankly, we're none the worse for it.

Bob refused to partake, but for nostalgia's sake - and because people who say it doesn't taste good are liars - the rest of the nine of us finished three bottles of Mateus in honor of the beginning of my 39th year. That's approximately 30 flaming birthday crepes and counting, for those of you keeping track.

It's no wonder that three of the original family six-pack are now in the wine business.

And, yes, we are loving every minute of it.