white wine

PAUL & PHILIPPE ZINCK PINOT BLANC (2009)—On the agenda, if not P’s Show-and-Tell program

My Fellow Inebriates,

Even though my dad is too cool to tuck me in at night, I miss him when he goes away. So does my mum, although we both agree it benefits our beer inventory.

My dad wasn’t going to share his team-building golf week agenda with the bears but, when I snooped around in his luggage the night before his departure, I found a cheap bottle of Scotch (unopenable), oodles of electronic gadgetry, and no clothes. Either there is another bag (full of who-knows-what goodies) or this week’s team building will be done naked.

I also found a printout of a PowerPoint slide for a presentation my dad’s doing to explain his new role at the company. It has four quadrants:

  1. Current activity
  2. Upcoming activity
  3. Challenges
  4. Opportunities

Like a flash it struck me that I could justify my own activities similarly. Justifying the LBHQ enterprise might get me closer to the bar of my dreams.

These ideas were pinging back and forth between my two brain cells when Miss P proposed taking me to Show-and-Tell. This coaxed my mum’s head out of Facebook to ask pointedly: “What exactly would you tell your class about LB?”

Giggle giggle. “About how he loves wine.”

Damn straight I love wine. This kid knows me well and I’m sure she’d have done me proud at Show-and-Tell, advertising the existence of Liquorstore Bear to the spawns of a parental demographic often described as “Bible Belt.”

Alas, my mother killed the idea. “Why don’t you show your new bike helmet?” Then hastily: “But don’t let any other kids try it on! We have to be careful about lice.”

Killjoy! We might love lice! Maybe if we brought home some lice my mum would vacuum! Bleach the sheets! Wash the—OMG!—wash the stuffies, AAARRRGHHHHH!!! No!!! My brain had misfired again with that thought, but there was no changing things now.

So P brought the helmet, which was or was not a hit with her cohort—she didn’t say, having moved on by end of day to other notions.

“LB, your blog is utterly, utterly narcissistic.”
—my mother

Had I received my 15 minutes of Grade One fame I would have told the class about PAUL & PHILIPPE ZINCK PINOT BLANC (2009), purchased by my mum in a typically petulant “do it myself” Mother’s Day mood. She wanted something that would pair with peanut-lime pork and coconut rice, and my dad is flummoxed about white wine period, never mind white-wine/food-pairing puzzles. Since my mum is almost as much of a white wine rube, she leant upon our local booze shop consultant to recommend the pinot blanc.

Billed as creamy and structured with orchard/citrus notes and lingering spice, ZINCK PINOT BLANC is a no-brainer complement to delicate flavors. Now, if only my mother produced delicate flavors in the kitchen…

She doesn’t, so let’s talk about the pinot on its own merit.

ZINCK PINOT BLANC doesn’t disappoint the nose, although if anything the notes are more tropical than orchard-like. As it sits, deep straw-colored in the glass, it wafts faraway scents that suggest humidity, scorching heat and heady refreshment, sun-soaked naked bodies that don’t resemble my dad teeing off in his birthday suit… There is, in the distant background, a hint of ginger perhaps—just enough to make you wonder whether you imagined it.

My parents’ prevailing fear of trying white wines no doubt harkens back to surreptitious childhood sips of Domaine D’Or and Sommet Blanc. If their parents intended to poison them against white wine, it worked. So whenever we do get a white in the house, they’re gobsmacked if it’s any good. The main thing they suspect white wines are missing is substance. This made ZINCK PINOT BLANC a good choice, weighing in at a respectable 12.5% alcohol and exhibiting both heft and depth. Slightly off-dry, this pinot’s character develops as the wine edges up from fridge temperature, revealing mineral subtleties and a satisfying mouthfeel.

It was perhaps a little too substantial for a Thai food pairing. Definitely beyond my philistine parents—but nonetheless a hit all around.

The newest agenda item: get more of it.

REMY PANNIER SAUVIGNON BLANC (2010)—raising Fluffy’s ire

My Fellow Inebriates,

This time Fluffy left a big wad of toilet paper in the en suite toilet. I had no idea he would do something like that—I was so busy watching the lights and the oven to make sure he didn’t burn down the house that it didn’t occur to me that he would sabotage our plumbing.

Consider the facts:

  • There are three toilets in the house.
  • Of the three, the en suite one is only the second most likely to plug.
  • However, it is the least used by the kids, which means it hasn’t been force-fed any goldfish or Barbie clothes.
  • Ages ago we ran out of the pink breast cancer awareness toilet paper (which the kids loved so much they fed it straight into the bowl, half a roll at a time, exhausting their interest in the toilet).
  • In fact, my parents bought the kids some birdseed so they could feed actual animals instead of appealing to the toilet’s appetite with random objects.
  • I didn’t do anything to it; I am scared of the toilet.
  • My dad is away on a business trip, which means the toilet is not enjoying any half-hour marathon usage this week.

Which means there’s no reason for a mess of toilet paper to be swimming in it this morning! OMG! Is there nothing Fluffy won’t do to get our attention?

With a sinister presence like Fluffy in the house, I can’t even get comfortably drunk. Last night, for instance, we had guests over and I had the opportunity to get into some REMY PANNIER SAUVIGNON BLANC (2010). Before I committed myself to getting gooned, I had to ascertain that my mother wouldn’t. That way she could keep an eye on Fluffy.

Luckily she was feeling responsible, what with two small kids to get to bed, a party to host, and with Dad out of town—and I realized I could trust her and get plastered myself.

This was the wine my mum bought the other day. Since she’d had no idea how to choose a sauvignon blanc, our booze store consultant recommended REMY PANNIER, describing it as opposite to chardonnay on the white wine spectrum. As you know, I’d been exhorting my mother to purchase chardonnay specifically to placate the unrestful spirit inhabiting Fluffy who, we have reason to suspect, is looking for chardonnay. I’d like to be kinder than to suggest that my mum is an idiot; rather, she is recklessly continuing a pattern of doing exactly the opposite of what her mother (my Granny, presumably trapped inside Fluffy) would want. Now, Granny was pretty easygoing, so she’d probably be okay with this REMY PANNIER offering, but Fluffy is a different matter. Fluffy is showing distinct signs of being evil, and I thought it was important to provide chardonnay as a peace offering. BUT the wine consultant won my mother over with the pretty sauvignon blanc bottle.

Varietals notwithstanding, I had a bad-ass jones for some wine, so we opened it and poured. REMY PANNIER is a lovely light straw color in the glass, but what’s more striking is its aroma—ahhh! Such delicate fruit! Apricots, citrus, spring grass—all generously wafting from the glass.

But how does it taste?

Ahhh! REMY PANNIER delivers on those scents. It is zingy yet delicate, citrusy yet balanced, light and dry. I loved it, people.

At 12% alcohol and shared between several humans plus one animal, this sauvignon blanc couldn’t get anyone wasted. But that’s really its only downside. If you’re a white wine drinker who falls into the anti-chardonnay camp, it will especially appeal to you with its zesty, light character and zingy high notes.

But if you strongly prefer chardonnay, you might want to avoid REMY PANNIER SAUVIGNON BLANC and seek out something with heaviness and oak.

And if you are a freaky golem like Fluffy, apparently REMY PANNIER SAUVIGNON BLANC will anger you and prompt you to stuff the upstairs toilet full of Charmin.