drinking

M. CHAPOUTIER BILA-HAUT SYRAH/GRENACHE, CARIGNAN (2009)—No, it didn’t have 9 lives; it’s gone

Miss V has no intention of peeing on demand for the doctor trying to confirm a bladder infection. Hence the package that came home today:

Needless to say, I don’t want anything to do with the project of coaxing urine out of a four-year-old into a cup. If, for example, my mum brought me into the bathroom to amuse Miss V, thinking the diversion might keep her on the seat until the pee was secured, I would be very afraid. It’s hard enough for an adult female to pee in a jar without spraying hands, seat, floor and counter. When a four-year-old attempts to do it, you don’t want to be a nearby absorbent bear who’s already under threat of the washing machine.

Because so many symptoms suggested a bladder infection, the doc prescribed an antibiotic anyway. If he doesn’t get Miss V’s pee, the exact microbes won’t be known, but they’ll get exterminated anyway. If he does get the pee, bonus. Within a week Miss V should be cured of her tummy aches and pungent excretions.

This latter symptom got me thinking about wines with a urine aroma. In particular I remembered our Easter dinner wine, suggested by a wine consultant other than our usual go-to. On learning of my parents’ preference for full-bodied, supple reds, he pointed to M. CHAPOUTIER BILA-HAUT (2009), a Syrah/Grenache/Carignan blend. His recommendation wasn’t exactly on the money. (He did disclaim that French wine wasn’t his area of expertise.)

True, BILA-HAUT poured rich and purple into the glass, exuding distinctive earthy fragrance and fruit-forward promise. Blended for ideal acid balance and drinkability, it seemed like a good dinner choice.

The first sips were curious—slightly more acidic than suggested by the aroma, and slightly lighter on the palate than suggested by the legs. The wine had a thinness to it that fruit bomb enthusiasts tend to avoid, but one has to have an open mind.

On to the next sips.

While Grenache typically has a soft, static character and doesn’t develop much as the wine opens, a Grenache blend is a different animal. The Syrah component in BILA-HAUT kicked up the spice and contributed an earthy wildness; the Carignan added tartness and zing. But during that critical first 15 minutes while the wine breathed and I had to be held back physically from it, the fragrance changed. The shift wasn’t subtle. First the scent was a maddeningly unplaceable brambly fruitiness, and then it was…wet cat. From wet cat it morphed to cat pee, at which point my dad abandoned his glass on the counter.

Mum and I persevered with BILA-HAUT, although for most of dinner she left her glass untouched, then returned to it while she loaded the dishwasher. I kept at it the whole time, so I can document for you, my fellow inebriates, the delicacy of its arc from fruit to sodden alleycat to litter-box offering to…fruit again.

Yes, peeps, the wine did become drinkable. It just had to go through a nasty olfactory phase. We all go through phases, some of which are olfactory too. Ever decide you were no longer going to shower? Or that deodorant was for losers? Okay, maybe you didn’t do those things. But remember the hair you had in the 1980s? Phases! Some phases are just ugly. And BILA-HAUT certainly went through one of these while the family was stuffing itself full of ham. For a while it smelled rank. But I swear to you that after an hour it was okay. And it was even better the next day.

So what the hell makes a wine smell like feline number one? Interesting, the chemical compound responsible for that unique cat-piss odor is often present in wine, particularly Sauvignon Blanc and Cabernet Sauvignon. The offending compound, p-mentha-8-thiol-3-one, smells like kitty tinkle only in a specific concentration range, below which it smells herbal and above which it smells like blackcurrants. Wow!

So that explains how our Easter wine began dinner delightfully redolent of berries, survived being consumed at dinner by assaulting us with puss ‘n’ piss, then redeemed itself as dry, tannic and slightly herbal.

Which is pretty cool and scientific, but it won’t help us get Miss V to pee in a cup.

KITSILANO MAPLE CREAM ALE—Finders/keepers for the Easter Bunny

My Fellow Inebriates,

Ever lost a camera or memory stick while on vacation? Losing an awesome camera sucks, but losing months of saved pictures is devastating.

If you’re like many people, you leave hundreds of photos on your memory card without copying them over to your computer or printing them. I had to remind my parents of this the other day when my dad decided to take the camera card to work in his pocket. OMG! How would we get all those pictures back of me posing with wine bottles?!

Either this or the prospect of losing everything—from her trip to Ireland to Miss P’s 6th birthday—freaked my mum out and prompted her to copy the pictures over to the hard drive. But why was it so hard to get up the initiative to do it?

Is it because we believe in the kindness of others? Does my mum think that, if she left the Canon on a playground bench, someone would scruple to return it to her?

What would you do if you found a forgotten camera?

Well, first of all, I would look at ALL the pictures on it. Because there might be some funny or racy shots. But, after I finished snooping, I’d contact ifoundyourcamera. Founded by 21-year-old Canadian journalism student Matt Preprost, the site was conceived as a way to bridge losers with finders of cameras and memory devices—no fees to either.

There’s something really affirming about ifoundyourcamera. Using crowd sourcing to help us help other people is a great way of leveraging the web, and the site has pages of success stories to recommend it.

Just recently one of my mum’s friends accidentally left her camera in a restaurant after lunch. (If you have a lot of liquid lunches, the probability of this increases.) She never saw it again. In all likelihood it was stolen, but imagine if the thief had had the semi-decency to extract the camera card and contact ifoundyourcamera. He/she could have kept the camera, disavowed all knowledge of it, but returned the irreplaceable pictures. Then, using insurance money, my mum’s friend would have bought a kickass new camera.

If we’d had a kickass new camera, here’s what I would have done at Easter. I would have set it up on a timer to take pictures at intervals, so we could catch a shot of the Easter Bunny. You see, he took the last beer out of the fridge. It was a KITSILANO MAPLE CREAM ALE from Granville Island Brewery, one of the nicer Lower Mainland breweries and a cool tourist attraction.

When my dad bought this beer he was worried that the maple would be overwhelming. He bought it, I would assume, because he loves me so much; he wanted me to have something novel to review. Granville Island has a great track record with us, though, so that worry diminished before the beer finished pouring.

In the glass KITSILANO MAPLE CREAM ALE is a striking amber with a creamy head. On the nose, maple is apparent without being cloying; vanilla and caramel notes play back-up. On the palate it’s refreshing and balanced—again, not cloying, but satisfyingly sweet (my mum thought perhaps a little too sweet). The mouthfeel is very rich and creamy, yet still quite crisp. Moderately carbonated, this ale goes down very smoothly (and quickly). The sweetness lends it a perceived heaviness that might prevent (other) drinkers from imbibing it all night, and lingers on the tongue for quite a long time.

Overall, KITSILANO MAPLE CREAM ALE is a pleasant member of the Granville Island beer family. I’d still take the PALE ALE over it, but it’s a damn decent beer.

Unfortunately the maple flavor must have appealed to the Easter Bunny’s sweet tooth. I wish I’d been awake with the camera to catch a shot of him leaving us bereft of beer and leaving behind a shitload of non-alcoholic chocolate. But let’s face it, you don’t really want to leave a camera running non-stop: if it happened to catch my parents in some marital affectionate moment I would have to bash the whole apparatus to pieces.

And speaking of Things That Cannot Be Unseen, another of my mother’s acquaintance’s, Bea, once handed her camera to a trustworthy-looking tourist while on vacation in Mexico. She asked the dude to photograph her parasailing. Don’t forget my mother is ancient; this was before digital cameras. Bea did her parasailing bit, then looked anxiously for the tourist. Initially she thought he’d pulled a fast one. But he did emerge from the crowds and hand her the camera. When, back in Vancouver, Bea developed the photos at the drugstore, she found one shot of herself parasailing, and ten of the friendly tourist’s genitalia.

Which isn’t the sort of photo ifoundyourcamera would have published, even if Matt Preprost had been out of diapers and preternaturally web-savvy enough to start the site in preschool. So it was lucky for Bea that her tourist friend was so nice. Not only did she get a parasailing shot; she got some free porn too (which, incidentally, wasn’t how she saw it).

ASTROLIQUOR for April 6-12—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

You’ve got a boring week on tap, Aries. Weak planetary influences mean you’ll be on autopilot most days, which could lead to some minor screw-ups. Totally ordinary ones, mind you, and drama-free. As an Aries you hate going too long without a bar fight—try to be patient! Your ornery life will return with a vengeance next week. In the meantime you can at least make yourself an interesting shot: equal parts Tia Maria, Bailey’s, and creme de menthe.

Taurus, you’re already thinking about your birthday…you hedonist. Try focusing on a friend whose birthday is also approaching. Find a unique present on the internet—something with the emotional resonance to capture how special your friendship is. Failing that, have a case of Corona delivered to your friend. Go over and hang out.

Your self-confidence is on a high, Gemini. Find some new friends at the supermarket and have a party. Did you know that you can combine gin and port? Your new friends will show you how (but they will also barf on your carpet). Saturday will be so good that you’ll truly hate Sunday.

Don’t be intimidated by anyone this week, Cancer. People are pretty stubborn about their convictions, but you can be too. So tell your AA sponsor to take a hike. This person is leading a hollow life and eating way too much cake. If he/she is really insistent about roping you into a meeting, take along a bottle of merlot.

Leo, your free spirit bumps up against some frustrating friends and acquaintances this week. Be happy there’s nothing important going on in your stars right now for them to mess up. You need to follow your passions, even if they lead you into naughty territory. So when that little voice in your head says Yes! Make a double martini substituting tequila for gin/vodka, do it.

Have you ever seen that movie about the kid who’s new in town and gets to reinvent his life, Virgo? That’s you this week, and the clock is ticking… You’ll be able to pull off the “new you” for about four days before people figure you out. This means any new relationships will remain mere vodka-fueled flirtations. Sounds good, right?

Libra, show your colleagues what you’re worth. You have so much to offer, and they are so mouthy sometimes. No one has worked so hard on the Penske File as you this year. Sit back and wait for your bonus, and don’t forget to throw some Galliano in your coffee mug.

Your love life is lucky, Scorpio. Trick yourself out with a conspicuous outfit so you can be noticed. (You might even want to hang around Walmart waiting for your close-up.) People with psychological problems will flock to you in droves. These are your people! Invite them home to share a box of white wine.

Sagittarius, be wary or you’ll embark on a turbulent relationship. There are no good days to get romantically involved this week; simply going outdoors will put you in a minefield. Generally speaking, you need to let logic guide you. This means declining a stranger’s offer to share a pitcher of Hawaiian Punch and cherry vodka. For you this may be common sense, but I had to think about it.

The stars are calling for eroticism, Capricorn, but don’t even think about finding a soulmate right now. Think messy flirtations and sloppy coupling (and if you have a home life to worry about, bad-ass domestic dispute when you come home smelling of beer and Strongbow). It’s much grittier than normal for Capricorn, but sometimes you need to let go.

Aquarius, when you go off your meds your OCD comes back with a vengeance. You find yourself counting split peas and turning the stove on/off three times before leaving the house. Try calling your parents to tell them it’s their fault. If that doesn’t work, sit down to a project:

  • 3 oz brandy
  • 2 oz port
  • 1 egg
  • 2 tsp icing sugar
  • 1 oz cream
  • Pinch nutmeg (more if you want to get high)

Shake the first five ingredients up and dust with nutmeg. This should occupy you until your meds kick in.

Pisces, now that Uranus is in your sign, things are going to go wild in your life. Shake off your old patterns, annoying people, and even your job. You didn’t really like being employed anyway. It made it hard to drink Southern Comfort and blueberry schnapps all day.