vodka

SHOOFLY SHIRAZ (2010)—Call that koala off!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Today the whole family’s out looking at our new headquarters, so naturally I’m wondering what I can get up to.

But without thumbs it’s hard to get up to much.

My fur hurts.

And then there’s this raging, fur-blasting headache. Did my parents offer me a painkiller for it before they left? Noooo. They helped themselves to 400mg ibuprofen each, then stowed the bearproof container on an upper shelf.

So why do we all (minus the kiddies) have this thwacking great headache? Reluctant as I am to blame SHOOFLY SHIRAZ (2010), the evidence is pretty solid. Two glasses of red wine shouldn’t do such a number on the old brain pan.

Red wine, along with Scotch, bourbon and anything dark, is famous for causing headaches. But the evidence tends to be anecdotal and fraught with variables. How many drinks? At what level of hydration? With or without carbonation? Consumed exclusively or mixed with different alcohol types?

It’s red wine that gets the worst rap. Why do some wines inflict more next-day head pain that others?

Nobody really knows.

According to Winegeeks, from which I swiped much of my information, the cause of red-wine headaches hasn’t been precisely determined. But here are some suspects:

  • Sulfites—natural byproducts of yeast added to ensure clean fermentation. But white wine typically contains more sulfites than red.
  • Histamines—plant and animal substances that spur allergic reactions. While they are more common in red wine than white, the data are inconclusive. For one thing, histamine occurrences are very low. For another, a study from the Journal of Allergy and Clinical Immunology showed no difference between the side effects suffered by drinkers of low- and high-histamine wines.
  • Tannins—substances that give plants a bitter taste and produce that saliva-drying sensation you get from dry wine, tea, coffee, and nuts. They have healthful antioxidants but (one theory goes) may bind to starches, preventing their uptake and use in the brain’s manufacture of serotonin. Serotonin deficiency, in turn, causes vasoconstriction, which leads to migraines.
  • Congeners—chemicals produced during fermentation that contribute to the flavor of non-distilled drinks. These include acetone, acetaldehyde, esters, glycols (the list goes on), none of which sound too brain-friendly, although one congener in particular, fusel oil, contributes to red wine’s complexity. Dark drinks are generally more congener-rich than clear drinks. In a bourbon-vs-vodka study, subjects who drank bourbon suffered disturbed sleep and diminished performance compared to subjects who consumed vodka.

It’s all you. Or is it?

Individual susceptibility is also a factor. We all know people who avoid red wine because of headaches; likewise, plenty of people/bears enjoy a glass or three without ill effect. Our little tasting crew falls into this latter category, so when we find ourselves reeling around gripping our heads the morning after splitting one 750mL bottle of SHOOFLY between us, something’s up with that wine.

What about that SHOOFLY?

The 2010 vintage may be a little young. Even after we let it breathe a good 45 minutes, it exuded fresh yeast along with a rush of ripe berries and black fruit. Vinified from super-ripe grapes harvested from old vines around Adelaide, SHOOFLY is fruit-lush yet parchingly tannic—not massive but large and reasonably well structured. The finish is perhaps a little clipped.

Like many an Aussie Shiraz it packs a 14.5% wallop. It’s less a symphony than a kick-ass rock concert. Damn, I liked it last night. It even made my parents’ conversation about moving and finance a bit less boring.

Still, SHOOFLY isn’t tame. Maybe a year in the bottle would help it—but will the headache genie still come out with it? It’s a wild animal all right. I woke up with it clawing my melon from the inside like some scrofulous koala yammering sweet nothings at my two brain cells. I barely got through today.

What’s important, though, is that SHOOFLY is yummy booze for $18. And if someone will just open the Advil bottle for me, I’ll forgive it anything. Hell, if we had a second bottle I’d drink it right now. But I’d need help opening it.

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

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

There’s a lot of hubbub around you, Aries. You’re going all neatfreaky, getting your environment just so. Whatever you’re planning, the stars are egging you on, especially if it involves Captain Morgan. Once you have your house shipshape, maybe you’ll feel like having a housewrecker. Invite everyone!

Taurus, staying awake and focused is going to be tough this week. You’re preoccupied with making the perfect martini. Gin or vodka? Lemon or olive? Perhaps some weird martini feature you’d find in a restaurant? If you take this option you may be able to shake off the blahs. Restaurants are full of interesting people. Order a plate of fries, then drink assorted martinis until they cut you off.

Get a handle on your capabilities this week, Gemini, so you don’t make liquor-related errors. You don’t, for instance, want to handle knives for a while. If someone invites you to play Russian Roulette with a real gun, say “no.” In fact, don’t gamble at all—don’t even buy underwear unless you’re absolutely sure it’s your size. But you can drink creme de cacao safely.

This week sucks from the get-go, Cancer, but don’t write it off. By week’s end things will turn around—as long as you listen to your gut. If it says, “Take a flask of applejack brandy to work,” don’t hesitate to do it. Although your workplace will offer up some bitchy conflicts on Monday, by Friday you’ll have mediated them—to the admiration of colleagues and superiors. Pass the flask!

Leo, in the next two weeks you’ll make solid financial decisions that will benefit you for a long time. Don’t vacillate too long; no matter how many pros and cons you can think of, let’s face it, the left brain is a bit of a killjoy. Subdue it with a mix of rum, vodka, and (optional) gingerale. Once your analytical side is safely out of the picture, you can buy things on ebay, send money to deposed Nigerian leaders, and acquire more thongs.

You’re suppressing a lot of rage, Virgo—so effectively that your friends and relatives can’t detect it. But the steam is building up inside you, and if you don’t release it you’ll go apeshit crazy. Consider taking a long nature walk or relaxing at the beach. If those ideas don’t work, make yourself a giant happy drink:

  • 4 oz root beer schnapps
  • 2 oz vanilla schnapps
  • 1 can Coke
  • Whipped cream

You might have to experiment a few times to get it right. After a few batches your friends and relatives will seem much more tolerable (but this won’t be reciprocal).

Libra,  just one glass of wine will change your perspective on everything this week—love, money, friends, work. People will find you more interesting (or so it will seem). You’ll make out with a Taurus. People will laugh and cheer, until you up the ante from wine to champagne. Slowly, they’ll start to think you’re a douche, and by the time you graduate to Everclear with gingerale they’ll have already gone home. OMG!

You’ve got domestic changes happening, Scorpio. Maybe you’re moving; maybe you’re renovating—there sure is a lot of shit in your yard. Try to steer clear of inquisitive neighbors. Even though you’re pretty good at ignoring them, for some reason they’re baiting you this week. It’s none of their business what you do in your yard. Knock that blue raspberry vodka Gatorade back and leave them to their boring breakfast.

Sagittarius, your emotions are highly honed these days. You spent most of your spring reeling around with a headful of tequila, which helped you discover your Third Eye and gave you craploads of insight into who you are and what you really want in life. The next step is to assess your personal and public personae. Which needs more attention? Pour some more tequila and ponder the question.

The stars are talking private finance this week, Capricorn. Could be you’re buying/selling a home, or maybe just consolidating personal debt. Obviously this is stressful as hell and calls for lashings of Grey Goose. As you slog through it, your mental state will improve. You’ll feel more comfortable talking with others about your money situation, especially if they’ll stand you a round of vodka.

Aquarius, if you’ve ever been tempted by the occult, this is your week. You’ve spent years ignoring those tweaky little signs that there’s Something Out There, disavowing the supernatural world in favor of your rational side. Well, there really is some freaky shit out there. Did you know there’s a possessed bear at LBHQ who houses the ghost of my dead Granny? Man, that bear scares the shit out of me. What we need is some Stolichnaya with melon liqueur and triple sec.

Pisces, your memory is usually pretty good, but this week it fails you. Don’t worry—you’re not over the hill and you’re not sick. You’re just pissed all the time on rum. Notice how you lose concentration after half a liter or so. Notice how uninteresting your friends and relatives seem; how everything is in slow-mo. It’s all you, friend! Cut your booze a bit with some mixer.

ASTROLIQUOR for June 29 to July 5—What the stars say you should drink!

My Fellow Inebriates,

Here’s your booze horoscope:

With this weekend comes an urge to cook for friends, Aries. Do your prep sober so you avoid poisoning them (again). Once the table’s spread, anything goes, and you have the choice of a Leo or a Capricorn, both amorously beer-goggled. Make sure their “go” signals are really “go” signals. If you must use questionable judgment, mix two shots banana liqueur and one shot vodka into a glass of Chardonnay. Repeat until you negate the danger of being an annoyance. Sleep it off where no one will trip over you.

Taurus, thanks to memory dropouts you forgot that your April spending would catch up to you by late June. Now you face Canada and/or Independence Day with an empty bar. OMG, what can you sell? Hurry, you must have some heirlooms or a stamp collection. Get them up on Craig’s List so you can buy some Jagermeister, rum, and bourbon. Then do what any patriot would do: shake ’em up together and pour into an ice-filled cocktail glass.

You’ve blown all your renovation money on Southern Comfort, Gemini, but you can still buy a couple of small items to brighten your space. Even a can of touch-up paint would help dress up those drunken dents in the wall. Never mind how difficult it is to get Blue Curacao out of the rug! Be cheerful about the little fix-it purchases. When you’re done you can invite friends for another house-wrecker.

If you take somebody out for lunch, Cancer, it might turn into a liquid lunch. Self-discipline is curiously elusive—these days you’re waking up to a sherry/pernod/vermouth mouthwash, and food just absorbs it, allowing you to drink more. Still, a social meal might rekindle an important friendship, especially on Saturday. Keep an eye on this person; pernod goggles are even more powerful than beer goggles. My girlfriend Dolly says she needs a lot of pernod to “keep me in focus.”

Leo, you’re watching a lot of porn without considering real-life relationships. Try not to conflate the two—no one’s really going to deliver you a pizza in a thong. (Well, you might be wearing a thong.) Dating possibilities include a Gemini, a Sagittarius, and a fellow Leo, none of whom will approach you wearing a thong. Try getting to know them. Don’t just liquor them up with banana and peach schnapps. Give the schnapps to any bears you encounter, especially if they’re wearing thongs.

This is the best week in ages for friendship, Virgo, offering the chance to mend old misunderstandings and get back an old drinking buddy. Ask yourself what the conflict was originally about. Can you even remember? Chances are it was insignificant, although it may have involved nudity. Fact is, you don’t remember. You were hammered at the time on vodka, Kahlua, and Guinness—pounded from a 2L Coke bottle.

Libra, concentration comes with great difficulty this week. Your many personal troubles include a brewing identity crisis that may prompt a domino-like tumble of your values. If you’re a carnivore, you may renounce meat. If you’re a vegetarian, you may get naked and start chowing down on another homeless person’s face. Try getting out more often, and if you do get a meat craving, here’s your drink:

  • 5 oz vodka
  • 6 oz beef bouillon
  • 2 tsp lemon juice
  • Tabasco to taste
  • Worcestershire to taste
  • Celery salt to taste

The stars are happy for you this week, Scorpio. The revolving door keeps delivering funny, entertaining visitors bearing drinks, music, and tasty gossip. Day and night they will regale you, but mind an enigmatic-looking Pisces, possibly wearing black. This person is deep. You’ll have conversations you remember forever—unless you get out of hand with the brandy and creme de cacao.

Sagittarius, you’re still under pressure this week, negotiating heavily at work and in your private financial world. You’re unusually assertive and decisive; security personnel leave you alone at airports, and for a change no one tries to put you in handcuffs. Could it be liquid confidence? Who knows what your blood alcohol level is, but if you’re ever going to attempt 10 amaretto shooters, this is the week.

Until mid-August you can expect a charmed life, Capricorn. Friends flock to you, instinctively recognizing the merriment that follows a happy person. Shake some gin up with Red Bull and pour everyone a round. You’re giving them energy, which means they have to entertain you. Enjoy it for now, because one of them might sue you in August.

Aquarius, take stock of your life this week. Honestly ask yourself: have you lost interest in your goals? Perhaps you’ve changed; maybe you’ve matured. Should you redefine your priorities and take a different path? Or are you just too drunk to be on a path at all? With all that Jack Daniel’s in your system, that might be it. Ask yourself in the morning.

Pisces, if you have any important decisions looming, you might want to wait a  while. The stars are being dickish again, serving up lashings of pessimism until August. The stars are so negative about finances and negotiations for July that they insist you hole up with the biggest supply of Malibu and Crown Royal you can muster. Wait out this bad patch on the bathroom floor, clinging to the toilet to stop the room spinning. When August comes, consider going into politics.