()wned! by CALIFORNIA CULT CLASSICS 2010 CHARDONNAY

My Fellow Inebriates,

California Cult Classics new label

I got my paws on something very special this week—something that probably should have been saved for a special occasion. But a new booze arrival is impossible to resist after the sort of liquor drought we’ve been suffering at LBHQ. I couldn’t help it—the bottle was urging me, speaking to me, singing to me—and once the voices in my head chimed in I couldn’t help it. I pestered my parents to get out that big bottle-opening thingie and save us from sobriety.

The bottle in question contained a 2010 chardonnay bottled at California Cult Classics, an elite North Vancouver outfit where oenophiles, celebrities, and Vancouver Canucks convene to produce and enjoy wine made from extremely select Napa Valley grapes and painstakingly crafted to a world-class standard. Ahhhh!

You cannot find CCC wine in your neighborhood liquor store; it is strictly for personal consumption and not for resale. CCC members plunk down $10,000 to embark on a two-year wine-making journey, at the end of which they walk away with 288 bottles of vino so exquisite as to make them weep with joy. At approximately $35 per bottle, CCC wine compares favorably with wine that retails for $150 in stores. It is not something alcoholics, or alcoholic bears for that matter, usually invest in.

So how on earth did I acquire it?

Well, my dad knows a lovely person named Pixie, who read my lament about our near-bare liquor cabinet, and asked him to take me some wine and vodka.

So how would you interpret that, my peeps? I think she meant these gifts were just for me, don’t you? Predictably, my parents thought they were included, and since they have thumbs that enabled them to extract the special Sardinian Ganau cork from the wine bottle, they did open it and freeload off me.

Not my granny but she could be yours

I felt a particular urgency to drink this chardonnay because that varietal was the favorite of my granny who died last month. I was afraid that if we left it in the house she would come back from the dead as a zombie and look for it.

And so we poured it.

Ahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh! A heady tropical aroma wafted to my nose with knee-weakening significance—this is not a wine to be messed with. At full refrigeration it was almost too cold to appreciate fully, and I had to battle some mean-ass DTs while I waited for it to hit optimal temperature.

People talk about chardonnays being buttery, and sometimes I think those people are full of crap, but I kid you not, friends, this chardonnay is buttery. Buttery and creamy, rich with vanilla, sensuous and transporting. This is not a wine to swill absentmindedly while you play Farmville. This wine will make you weak at the knees. Full-bodied and subtly oaked, it beckons from the glass, tantalizing, urging, promising, fulfilling. This wine OWNED me, people.

I can’t imagine I’d be very welcome at California Cult Classics in North Vancouver. It’s a very pristine winery, and bears have been known to host at least 30 types of parasites, including “coccidian protozoans, flukes, tapeworms, intestinal roundworms, lungworms, filarial worms, lice, fleas, ticks, and mites.” I don’t think the CCC people would let me add the yeast to the fermentation tank.

A better bet might be getting to know Pixie. Between you and me, I can’t stop thinking about her. Maybe she would let me ride to California Cult Classics in her purse. That’s how my friend Scarybear went to see Avatar.

I’m going to stalk Pixie from afar for a while and see what happens.

CHAIRMAN’S RESERVE—the spiced rum for hedonists

My Fellow Inebriates,

This morning’s drink recommendation comes from Taylor, who writes:

Husband and I recently visited St. Lucia, and quickly fell in love with their home brew, Chairman’s Reserve Spiced Rum. The normal Chairman’s Reserve Rum has a vague taste of whiskey to it, but the Spiced is this amazing blend that is tasty enough to drink straight.  It is made with nutmeg, cloves, vanilla, cinnamon, and richeria grandis…which is perfect to mix with eggnog.

I had some minor hesitation about circulating this information, principally because I don’t go in much for husbands. A husband takes Taylor out of the running for LB-style stalking, not because of any well-defined boundaries I have but because I am totally chicken-shit.

Still, this rave review is impossible to ignore. CHAIRMAN’S RESERVE Spiced Rum is by its own admission hedonistic, and egg nog’s seasonality electrifies pleasure seekers with a mad urgency to combine it with any and all varieties of hooch before it exits the market.

I get the sense that Taylor went all-out with her egg nog adventures. One of my favorite things about the Internet is that it prompts sharing:

All I did was pour 1 part rum, 4 parts nog, and shaved fresh nutmeg on top. The result is an orgasm-worthy performance of flavors in your mouth. 

I hope Taylor will forgive me, because when I first read this I had just ingested a skullfull of vodka, and things were a bit blurry on the page…er, screen. So I just saw RUM NOG SHAVED FRESH ORGASM-WORTHY PERFORMANCE FLAVORS MOUTH.

Whoa!

Obviously I have to get myself some CHAIRMAN’S RESERVE.

I’m really grateful to Taylor for peppering her booze review with keywords that will probably generate a decent spike in readership for me. I hope you’ll all visit her site as well—it’s lots of fun.

Okay, now what word can pull me back from the gutter? Let me think. Oh yeah—husband. That takes me back to booze, and the rest of Taylor’s recommendation:

Chairman’s Reserve Spiced is also amazing with ginger or root beer. My favorite combo (outside of the eggnog, of course) is Barq’s root beer. The bite of Barq’s against the spicy-sweet taste of Chairman’s is just an exhilarating combination. I’ve already converted a plethora of friends who only swear by beer to convert to the dark side.

These are awesome ideas for rum! So when you’re shopping for egg nog, pick up some Barq’s as well—that way you won’t have to mourn the departure of egg nog at season’s end. Maybe you too will be a convert just like Taylor’s friends (and I’m not surprised she has a plethora, are you?).

Why alcohol is so good for us

My Fellow Inebriates,

As always I welcome friends’ tasting notes. I’m catching up on a bunch of especially adventurous ones, including this from my friend Shannon:

I must say, I REALLY like rum. My rum of choice is Sailor Jerry. In fact, Sailor Jerry is so choice that as a sign of respect, I dressed up as a total slutted-out sailor for Hallowe’en and called myself Jerry. I carried around a mickey of Jerry in a little sparkly red clutch purse all night. I drank Jerry for 12 hours straight that night and the only challenge I had was trying not to fall off of my platform boots. I think Jerry brings out the best in people. I know I am a better person when I have Sailor Jerry in my life. 🙂

My favorite thing about Shannon is her continuous pursuit of excellence. She obviously knows the importance of high aspirations, and moreover she’s made the critical realization that alcohol makes us all better people. And there are plenty of reasons:

  • Alcohol causes euphoria. Whee! What better way to go back to one’s best, most idealized state—a condition of irresponsible immaturity, characterized by dress-up and relentless pestering of other people?
  • Alcohol induces lethargy. We live in an age of information overload. Slowing the brain down is a great way to avoid absorbing any data. You know the kind—what you said to your boss at the Christmas party, who took you home, why your underwear are on your head.
  • Alcohol creates confusion. Drink enough and all your senses will get mixed up. Next thing you know, that toothache is no longer bothering you, wearing platform boots becomes challenging, you can’t remember why boundaries are important, and you use adjectives like “choice.”
  • Alcohol leads to stupor. This is a great way to get that elusive nap. Not only that, but if you get to this stage you’ll probably toss your cookies too, and that makes everyone laugh.

    You have your San Francisco treat, I'll have mine.