wine

Give me vodka and I’m yours

My Fellow Inebriates,

I have a new favorite person in my life, which is too bad for Julia Gale of Broker’s Gin, with whom I was thoroughly enamored until she advised me to cross the border into the U.S. to buy her fine product (although she did clue me in to it being 47% proof rather than the 40% I’d find in Ontario).

Nope! Not Blackie. Safe for another day, buddy.

Why I fear traveling to the United States

I can’t imagine I’d be welcome in the States. The border guards couldn’t fingerprint me, and my sewn-up rectum precludes a cavity check. Not to mention, as a bear and therefore technically wild game, I’m frightened as f#ck to even share a continent with Alaska, and the knowledge that Chuck Testa has stuffed a bear almost identical to my bro Blackie Bear keeps me up at night. Basically paranoia and angst, plus my inability to reach the gas pedal of a car, will keep me out of that great nation to the south.

So toodles, Julia, and hello Pixie! Yes, my new favorite person is named Pixie. Yesterday Pixie, touched by my pleas to replenish the liquor cabinet, sent my dad home with a lovely bottle of California Cult Classics chardonnay and a freaky skull-shaped bottle of vodka.

My dad has kept his acquaintance with Pixie a big secret from me for several years, probably because he thinks I would stalk her, which I intend to.

This is exactly how I imagined LB headquarters operating, with a healthy influx of booze to keep me from feeling unloved, and two new products that await thoughtful tasting.

My deepest thanks to Pixie, not just for caring about my inventory and keeping the enterprise going, but for believing in me and touching my heart with her generosity. I am going to get totally wrecked on that chardonnay and chase it with the vodka.

SANTA RITA 120 CABERNET FRANC-CARMENERE-CABERNET SAUVIGNON (2010)

My Fellow Inebriates,

Apparently my DTs were a minor matter to my parents last night, as they decanted our chosen bottle of wine and let it sit for almost 45 minutes before I got my chance at it.

One of many offerings from Chile’s SANTA RITA, the 120 CABERNET FRANC-CARMENERE-CABERNET SAUVIGNON smelled young and thin, like an ordinary table wine. I’m not saying I wasn’t excited, because I was totally dry and would have gone for anything at that point. I’m just saying the fragrance that initially wafted from this vino didn’t quite transport me.

So the first sip was a splendid surprise. Whereas the smell had hinted at thinness, the wine actually had good body, lots of fruit, nice acidity and warm tannins.

It wasn’t as complex as I would have liked. Once the initial rush of alcohol had calmed my jones and the ability to discern flavor had kicked in, I found myself wishing for more…more something.

It did have some stuff going on. Behind the blackcurrent and plum notes there was a satisfying leathery twang to it, a hint of Elastoplasts that kept me returning for a curious sip. It was very fruity, but somehow full of contradictory tastes.

I should mention I was watching Breaking Bad, this show about a chemistry teacher who decides to start cooking crystal meth and ends up in all kinds of scary situations. There was this scene where he taped a big bandage to a horrible-looking leg gash, which might have suggested bandages to me, but not the specific brand name I was tasting. I definitely think the wine hinted at Elastoplasts rather than Band-Aids. You may think that’s very pretentious of me to distinguish between the two, but if any given plonk-reviewer can assert the ascendency of cassis over blueberry in a wine, then I can tell you which type of bandage I think might have fallen off someone’s toe during the stomping.

Breaking Bad actually stresses me out, and the wine helped a lot. I’m kind of an idiot when I watch TV because I forget it’s pretend. With its 13.5% alcohol content, the SANTA RITA 120 blend calmed my jitters and eased away the idea that druglords were going to attack the house. There isn’t even any crystal meth here, peeps, because my parents are super-boring, and that’s okay.

ROLF BINDER HALES Barossa Valley Shiraz (2007)

My Fellow Inebriates,

With the impending end of the Mayan calendar I sometimes feel as though the apocalypse is breathing down my neck. And that calls for wine.

There’s something so reassuring about a big, succulent, jammy wine, and when I’m quivering with paranoia my sights turn to my local booze store’s Aussie section, and in particular Barossa Valley Shiraz.

ROLF BINDER HALES Barossa Valley Shiraz is a spectacular example of that ripe, intensely layered fruit that comforts me so much. Floral on the nose, it rewards the drinker with symphonically placed cedar and blueberry notes, good body, and an endless finish.

I’ve always been afraid of Australia. Apparently it is overrun with baby-eating dingoes, and all the Tasmanian devils are riddled with cancer. They have spiders as big as dinner plates and big-ass rastling crocs, plus poisonous snakes that could swallow me in one gulp. But perhaps these are just the right conditions for growing perfect grapes.

ROLF BINDER HALES is 90% Shiraz, collected from several vineyards along the western coast of the Valley, and 5% contributions from Grenache and Mataro grapes.

I like this vino so much that Australia has become my new top of the world.

But it’s no simple fruit bomb. Sure, it’s all-singing and all-dancing, but it has a disciplined dryness that stops it just short of going supernova in your mouth, making for a tantalizing sipper that continues to surprise as it opens up.

I RECOMMEND sipping this amazing ROLF BINDER offering for that reason. Yes, if you pound it, you’ll still enjoy it, but then it’ll be gone, right? And you’ll be crying the way I do so often. Don’t worry, the world won’t end before you finish the bottle.