Silk, my A*#!

"Try something new", she says.
"Branch out", she says.

I took my own advice today and bought this bottle of wine for under $10. I can't tell you the last time I bought a wine under $25 so this was a huge stretch for me. Not only was it under $10 but it was at Safeway.

As I was cooking dinner for me and mom tonight, I opened this bottle of Menage a Trois Silk. I am almost embarrassed to say I bought this wine considering what I am used to drinking but, honestly, I'll give anything a chance!

I swirled, I sniffed. Hmmm.. I swirled again...... vigorously.
I inhaled.
Dark plums and lilacs

I sipped. It burned a bit and a tasted a tad bit medicinal and like licorice. Yep, licorice. I hate licorice.
Disappointed.
But.... I left it alone and waited 20 minutes.
Rotten plums rolled in sand and then dipped in Listerine. Yep, that's it.

I feel like I'm a victim of false advertising.
Silk .
Silk makes me think of smooth. Satin sheets. Cashmere. The fur of an alpaca.
Seriously. Have you ever pet an alpaca? Softest, most beautiful fur ever. I want an alpaca and have for years but they cost too much. $22 grand.
Yeah, I know they spit. But only if you make them mad. Don't make them mad.
But I digress.

Silk
Really?
Who came up with this name?
Maybe it's smooth like a newborn baby's bottom. But really, I don't need my wine to taste like a newborn baby's bottom. I like funk. But barnyard funk  -not baby funk. This isn't even funky. Seriously? Silk?

Ok.. hold on Tiny Wine Girl. Make this a learning experience. You've spent $10 on lesser things.

I kept swirling. I kept sipping. I kept cooking.
I turned on the radio.
Old Dominion. One of my favorite bands.
All of a sudden, the wine was tolerable.
I was sipping. I was singing. I was dancing. I was smiling.

When a bottle of wine makes you think......

I Iove Chardonnay.

The big oaky kind.

Toasted coconut and vanilla notes; even hazelnut undertones

Not butter though.

I don't need to drink (or eat, for that matter) a stick of butter.

I have also come to appreciate unoaked Chardonnays.

"Silver" by Mer Soleil is one that is reasonably priced that I enjoy.

 When it comes to unoaked ones, I always have to have food though.

Usually seafood. Steamed mussels, to be exact, pair wonderfully with Silver.

After two days of monsoon-like rain and gloomy days,

I was on my way out the door to go shopping, and asked the hubs (also known as my favorite guy) to throw a Chardonnay in the fridge so it would be ready upon my return.

He chose a 2015 A to Z Chardonnay that was easily accessible in our kitchen wine rack.

A to Z is one of my favorite Pinot Noir wineries - located in Oregon, of course.

So, why drink a Chardonnay if it's known for Pinot Noir?

Why even buy it in the first place?

Good question. I wanted to take a chance.

I like to live on the edge.

Brace yourself.

This 2015 vintage is very light, crisp and definitely unoaked. 

It is also very light in color; almost clear.

At first whiff, there is a hint of petroleum

and then melon, honey dew and white flowers take over.

There is a definite floral aroma.

However, there is no way I'd ever think this wine was a Chardonnay.

It is more reminiscent of a Pinot Gris but, of course, that makes sense coming from Oregon.

The Pinot Gris grape definitely finds itself at home growing in Oregon. The climate and geology are similar to the regions of Burgundy and Alsace in France where the grape originated.

With a clean, crisp taste, citrus flavors appear. 

 Lemon perhaps but thankfully, not enough to make you pucker.

The floral aromas tend to appear in the taste as well.... and fruit.... maybe pear or apricot.

Wait, wet stone. That's it.

Wet stone.

Yep, this wine tastes like little white flowers draped over stones at the edge of a river bed.

Even though this wine doesn't taste like a typical unoaked Chardonnay to me, it surely wasn't a waste. I don't know that I'd purchase it again but it definitely was worth trying.

I believe I would have enjoyed it more had I prepared seared scallops, Crab Norfolk or even shrimp scampi. It would work nicely as an ingredient in those dishes, being sipped as I prepared those dishes or as a chaser to each bite of those dishes!

It never hurts to try a different wine.

You like what you like - that's my mantra in wine tasting.

However, there's no reason to get stuck with certain ones.

Branch out, live a little. Try new wines. You just may find something extraordinary.

But if you don't, that's ok too - at least you tried.  

The more you try, the more you'll be able to pinpoint what it is you like (or don't like) about certain wines.

Hmm... wait a minute - that sounds very similar to new relationships.

You're bored, want to try something new.

The "label" is intriguing at first glance so you take it home with you and figure it's worth trying.

After opening the bottle, you realize it's not exactly what you like

but it's better than nothing at this point.

So, you go ahead and pour yourself a glass.

A little tart, not what you're used to, maybe even comes on a little too strong at first.

It doesn't really set well with you but you might as well give it a chance.

It could get better. It could grow on you.

You try to appreciate it for what it is and not what you wish it could be.

Yeah, I remember those days.

They are not necessarily fond memories either.

Thankfully, I don't have to worry about that nonsense any more...

.......in regard to men or wine.

“There are thousands of wines that can take over our minds.

Don't think all ecstasies are the same!”
― Jalaluddin Mevlana Rumi

My wine blog muse

It's been quite a while since I've blogged about wine. It's been quite a while since I have felt like writing or even drinking much wine.

Wait, what? How can that be, you ask?

Yeah, I know. Earth shattering news. 

A lot has happened in my world over the past year or so.  Some of it fantastic. Some of it not so much. But regardless, I lost my mojo. It was swallowed up and eaten alive. I was beginning to wonder if  it would ever return.

Tonight, thanks to my dad, I may have gotten it back. 

My parents are my best friends. My dad was always my "plus one" when it came to going to my happy place, wineries or just sharing a bottle of wine (or 2 or 3); most of the time accompanied by laughs, deep conversation and music. 

I'm saying in this in the past tense because Dad and I haven't been able to enjoy a bottle of wine together for quite a long time. Dad was battling a recurrence of prostate cancer and the effects of chemotherapy devastated his physical body. On November 24 at 7:40 a.m. with my mom, myself and the love of my life by his side, my dad took his last breath. A week and a day later, I am completely heartbroken, lost and often in a state of disbelief. He may be physically gone which is the hardest part right now but I know that my dad is still with me and always will be. I just can't find complete solace in that fact just yet.

This evening, I decided to order take-out from our happy place. I walked into the wine bar and returned the tray that was filled with Mediterranean Pasta graciously presented to us from the owners after Dad died. I was greeted with a loving hug from Dan, then a tear-filled squeeze of love from my Rachel, adoring words and hugs from my darling Aliki and a gentle shoulder to lean on from Neil.  I saw Arthur, the owner, who was excited to see me as always. He expected me to do the Saturday night tasting but I just couldn't bring myself to partake. Why? Because it was the annual J.Lohr tasting and Dad and I always participated together.  Arthur and I stood in an understanding silence after hugging and me stating that it wasn't the same - that I expected Dad to be at my side. 

Everywhere I turned at my happy place, I saw my dad.

It was OUR happy place and now it was a little less happy. No, a lot less happy. 

I picked up my food and proceeded to the parking lot where I got into my Jeep Wrangler and cried all the way back to my parents' house. 

As I walked into my parents house, I sat next to my mom on the sofa and just bawled like a baby. Then I got up and started getting our dinner together. I went downstairs to pick out a wine from my dad's wine rack because I just wanted one glass with dinner.

Knowing exactly what is in my dad's wine racks, because we have opened quite a few in the last couple of days with family and friends stopping by, I knew there were only two red wines left - a Chambourcin and a Tempranillo. I didn't want either but I figured one glass wouldn't kill me and I needed a red. 

All of a sudden, I pulled out a bottle and it was a Pinot Noir from Germany.

Wait. What? I had to look again.

No, I wasn't seeing things. You've got to be kidding me. 

No, of course. It makes perfect sense. 

Let me explain. 

Two days ago, it was a beautiful 68 degree day in late November and Mom and I needed to get out of the house so we took my sweet Nami and went to our happy place to sit outside and have lunch. After we ate, I went inside and wanted to check out the wines for sale. I was looking for a Merlot from Columbia Valley (b/c that was Dad's all-time favorite) and while I found one,I also found this really unique bottle - a German Pinot Noir from Mosel. 

Dad always looked for German wines and if they came from Mosel, they were even more special to him. Most of the Mosel wines we found, though, were Rieslings. While Dad loved Rieslings, unless it's a stinky Alsace one, I tend to not be a fan. 

There was no doubt, I HAD to buy this one. A Pinot (or Pignot as he would jokingly call it)- which Dad and I often enjoyed together - AND from Mosel? Totally going home with me to the beach for a special occasion!

Fast forward to tonight. 

I come home, sobbing uncontrollably, search through Dad's wine rack for something fathomable. 

To my surprise, I find this EXACT same wine. 

Yeah, exactly. 

Thanks, Daddy. 

Coming from an Oregon Pinot Noir snob, yeah, that's me, I was pleasantly surprised at this wine. 

But as I say that, I think, this makes perfect sense. Dad knew what a tough time I had going to our happy place without him so he made sure that I had something to smile about when I returned to his home without him. I didn't even care if this wine would pair well with my meal; I was drinking it. 

A rusty, brick-colored red, this wine has an aroma of burnt ripe red/black berries and a hint of flowers. Upon first sip, I wouldn't have believed this was a Pinot - it was a bit tangy, a bit smoky, a bit fruity and a strong finish of slate. After tasting the wine, I read the label on the back of the bottle and what's the first thing that it says it will pair well with? Lamb.

What did I take home from my happy place for dinner?

My second favorite special.... Lamb youvetsi. 

So I ate my lamb youvetsi, I drank my glass of Mosel Pinot, and I'm watching Ohio State play in the Big 10 college football championship, in my dad's spot on my dad's sofa....

without him..... 

Well, not really. 

So much has changed.....

She was 10 years old. No, wait, that’s what she always says. But now that I think about it and do the math, she had to have been 11. It was summer and her grandfather died the November after she turned 11. Wait, maybe she was 12 because it would have been the following summer. Damn, she's too pretty to do math. At least that’s what a previous boss told her and she's just gonna go with that. 

Regardless of the actual number, it was the awkward stage of her life – middle school years, of course – the worst three years of her life. She had a body wave in her hair and big round glasses that she hated.  She remembers being tall and skinny and not a bit shapely. Reminiscent of a baby giraffe perhaps. That turquoise one piece with black splotches was something else.... some things you wish you just didn't remember yet are so blatantly clear.  

She remembers that quaint summer cottage as if it was yesterday. A maroon/brown color with dark paneling (knotty pine perhaps?) inside and a crow’s nest on top which she used as her “getaway”.  They were about two blocks from the ocean but she could see it from that crow’s nest and that’s where all was right with her world, even if just for a second. She remembers her parents, her grandmother and her dad’s parents being there on vacation with them that week. Oddly enough, she doesn't remember any restaurants or stores or special places she visited. She just knows that this middle school ugly duckling didn’t feel like she belonged anywhere in the world until she came here. This is the only place on earth where she felt an instant source of peace and belonging.

As a young girl, she would daydream about being there with the man of her dreams. Years went by and boys came and went but none of them were "him".  As she got older, she continued to vacation there and would even visit for long weekends with a girl friend in what became her favorite time of year, Fall. September and October became her months of choice for beach adventures. The tourists were home getting ready for winter, the restaurants were still open but with no waits, rentals were cheaper and fishermen and people with dogs were pretty much all that roamed the beach. This truly was her heaven on earth. Even into her 30s she would still cross that bridge and her blood pressure would  instantly drop, she'd let out a deep sigh and pure contentment  would surround her. So much has changed since then. Yet so much remains the same.

That pre-teen's innocence is gone. But so are those ugly glasses, big hair and skinny legs. Boney Maroney is no more. That one piece turned into a bikini which is now usually a tank and shorts. Her grandmother is gone, her dad's father is gone and her dad's mother is hanging on by a thread. Her parents are aging and, well, so is she.

She now lives in her heaven on earth thanks to finally finding "him". It's been nine months and she still shakes her head in disbelief and awe.  Instead of annual vacations with her parents, they now come visit and stay at her house.  Her house. The house she shares with the man of her dreams. The house where she can see the ocean and the sunrise from the top level. The house which backs up to a golf course and a backyard which serves as her private oasis as the sun is setting.


She sees life differently now.
She gave up an almost six-figure job for barely 30 grand. 
She gave up independence and self-sufficiency for reliance on another human being for the first time since she was a child.
She lost her two-year old, "paid off" Cherokee in an accident which could have proved fatal and in turn got a reality check and a Jeep Wrangler.
She lost her best friend to cancer after only three short months of their dreams of living at the beach together became reality.
She gave up her comfort zone of friends and the only place she's ever known as home.


But she gained so very much in return.
She knows even more than she did before what is important in life.
She knows that every moment is precious. Every. Single. Moment.
She tries not to take things for granted.
She loves with every ounce of who she is and tries to live with no regrets.


That 10 year old little girl is now 43.
So much has changed.
Yet so much remains the same.