ROBERT MONDAVI PRIVATE SELECTION CHARDONNAY (2016)—even if the kids didn’t drive you to it, you deserve it

My fellow inebriates,

Every so often, Mum and I go to our local booze shop (I ride in her purse) and pick out bottle of wine. I salivate as she pays with her debit card. Usually, that wine becomes an accompaniment to Netflix after the kids finally consent to go to bed. Then… ahhhh!

Today, however, my mother bought—in addition to a bottle of ROBERT MONDAVI PRIVATE SELECTION CHARDONNAY (2016)—a turquoise gift bag. Immediately I knew this wine was not for us; it was for Miss V’s long-suffering grade 5 teacher.

Mondavi private selection

You’d think my mother would have bought two of these bottles so we could also drink to V’s graduation from elementary school—but no luck. You see, my dad hates Chardonnay, so my mother and I would have to drink a whole bottle by ourselves, and that never ends well. So she demurred.

Fortunately I can still share tasting notes because my Nana—who is way cooler than my mother—has brought this wine to our house before. ROBERT MONDAVI PRIVATE SELECTION CHARDONNAY is smooth with ripe fruit aromas and moderate acidity. As you sip, you’ll detect pineapple, green apple, mango, and vanilla. It also has a touch of that butteriness that Chardonnay freaks love.

If I were a teacher I’d drink a bottle of this every night. So (presumably) now Miss V’s teacher has an extra.

You really can’t pay teachers enough, as Breaking Bad taught all of us so long ago.



My Fellow Inebriates,

I hope you don’t think I was being overly critical of ROBERT MONDAVI PRIVATE SELECTION CABERNET SAUVIGNON (2010) in Thursday’s post. I certainly didn’t mean to imply it wouldn’t be enjoyable with dinner—just not with certain dishes such as pork, chicken, or human.

That said, this Mondavi offering isn’t as heavy as many Cabernet Sauvignons out there. It weighs in with rich blackberries, cassis, and smooth oak while being tannic enough to support a heavy meal such as beef bourguignon or tourtière. But it doesn’t have that extreme saliva-drying aridity that characterizes some Cabs. If anything it finds a good balance between fruitiness and dryness—well structured and well behaved.

Those of you who share my liquids-only predilection won’t be disappointed either. With its wealth of fruit and lingering finish, this wine is lovely on its own. It just doesn’t fit the bill if you’re a cannibal enjoying your favorite cuisine.

If you are a cannibal, your local liquor store may not necessarily help you find the right wine. But my dad’s going to the government liquor store tonight, so I’ll ask him to keep his eyes peeled for a shelf talker 😉