wine

CASTILLO DE MONSERAN OLD VINES GARNACHA (2007)

My Fellow Inebriates,

If I hear another parental exclamation about how expensive this season is and how booze is a “luxury,” I’m going to lose my furry mind. The budgeting conversation was so boring today that I rested my head in the curve of a bunch of bananas for most of the day, drowning out the banality.

Okay, maybe that doesn’t sound too understanding. As a bear without a social insurance number, I’ve never felt any obligation to bring home any bacon (barf—that’s for you, Hanukkah Harry—bacon is blech). So I don’t know how to budget, shop, do taxes, save, open an RRSP or any of that financial stuff. Why would I? It’s totally boring.

Except. Except that all this budgeting curtails my wine consumption.

I like exploring wines a lot, especially nuanced vintages and off-the-beaten-track varietals. I love detecting the layered scents before taking that first, tentative sip and disappearing into a wondrous, sensory ravishment by an exceptional wine.

But let’s face it, I’m a raging alcoholic, and the important thing is to keep wine in the house. If that wine is in a box, so be it.

My parents do not agree. They draw the line at boxed wine and will not stoop below the $10 mark. No matter how engagingly a liquor store’s $9 shelf talker ogles them, they will not purchase wine they can actually afford. Instead they keep a dry house for days on end and then spring for an occasional “decent” bottle.

Of course this is total BS. It means long periods of dreadful shakes and shivers, not to mention desperate cravings and urges to taste Windex and Clorox. The other day I drank half the vanilla in the baking cupboard, only to discover it was artificial and devoid of alcohol. If only my parents would invest in a friendly box of cheap plonk, I could park my mouth under the spout during these dark times and stop being the nuisance they say I am.

Still, I have to applaud my parents when they find something cheap enough to buy and drink without feeling guilty. The latest find, CASTILLO DE MONSERAN CARINENA OLD VINES GARNACHA (2007), was recommended by their local liquor store consultant, who pointed out that Spanish wines at the store often boast slightly older vintages, presumably because they tend to trickle more slowly to the North American market. Thus you can find, with a good consultant, some spectacular buys on mature wines that can certainly hold their own against the pricier Australian, US and Canadian bottles.

I’m wondering how we can get to know this wine consultant of ours a little better. My parents say he’s young and very friendly (which puts him out of their league as a potential buddy). If I wish to meet him, I may need to stow out of the house inside a purse or jacket pocket. The only problem: the liquor store is currently overrun by bears for its annual Share A Bear program, and I’m not sure what species they are. If they’re grizzlies like my friend Scarybear, then they will make things very difficult for a handbag-riding interloper, and I might end up getting the crap kicked out of me.

The reason I want to get to know this wine consultant (whose name my parents can’t even remember) is that I suspect he goes to tastings, and he might not object to taking along an alcoholic bear. Of course he might not have a man-purse that I could ride in, but maybe he has a backpack or some pockets. It would depend which pockets and where they were on his anatomy, because I wouldn’t want things to get weird.

That dude would be good to go to a tasting with because he certainly has good judgment. CASTILLO DE MONSERAN OLD VINES GARNACHA ($13.99) was a phenomenal surprise; even before it opened up, one inhalation revealed its promise. Ripe and full, this traditional old-vine Grenache bursts with plum and dense cherry, balanced oak and hints of olive. Remarkably complex for a Grenache, CASTILLO DE MONSERAN is lush yet structured, with a deliberateness about it that tells you these particular Spanish dudes know their craft.

I felt such sorrow when the last drop was drained, I had to curl up with the bananas on the counter. A spectacular value, CASTILLO DE MONSERAN OLD VINE GARNACHA is worth buying by the case.

On being purchased

No time for blogging all day, peeps. Sure, I had time; I spent most of the day staring at the wall, but no one had time to do my typing for me.

It was kind of understandable because the big kid was turning 6 and the putative adults were running around like maniacs making a cake and assembling loot bags that they would ultimately forget to distribute at the end of a screaming-loud party at a kids’ play area redolent of sweat socks and parental desperation.

I have no idea what my parents were like before they had their two monkeys. They bought me at the liquor store a few days before the first one was born. There they were, doing their Christmas alcohol shopping, Dad anticipating some good holiday drinking, Mum pregnant and settling for vicarious liquor selection…and I winked at them. I was hanging out on one of the shelves with the other bears (buy two—you keep one, the other goes to charity), and I noticed they were really loading up their cart with a lot of hooch. They had nine or ten wine bottles of wine, some Bailey’s and a really fine scotch; and poor old dead Granny had just hoisted a big magnum of sparkling wine into the cart.

I was excited because they seemed like proper alcoholics and fully my type of people. I didn’t realize they were stocking up for holiday visitors, because their full house would be celebrating not only Yuletide but the arrival of their first baby.

Blinded by the alcohol, I winked at them. I don’t know if they perceived it—they’re pretty oblivious at the best of times, my parents—but they stopped and looked at me. They reach out to me, gave me a pat. Next thing I knew, I was scanned, bought, bagged, and riding home with them.

I don’t know if they would have bought a bear if they hadn’t been expecting a baby. They probably would have gone for the two-bear charity deal, donated both, and gone home with just their booze.

So, in a way, their 6-year-old is the reason I live where I live, the reason I have adoptive parents, and the reason my fur is so matted it looks like aliens tried to make crop circles on it. I’ve worn countless dresses, been mummified all day in a tensor bandage, been slathered with rash cream and diapered, barely escaped barf and failed to escape snot, and dragged, thrown and trodden on.

And seriously, that shit is not okay. Fine, yes, they love me, and yes, it’s mutual, but I swear, if this continues, they’re going to literally tear me a new one, and when my mum sews me up with the purple thread the kids inevitably select, I will need a lot of alcohol.

Just saying.

Are there boy/girl drinks? And where do bears fit in?

My Fellow Inebriates,

I got some new tasting notes from my friend Michael:

With Michael's bear Gustav. Can you "own" a bear? Whose outfit is sillier?

right now i am tasting a white russian. it is creamy and girlish but slightly strong and very bearly. tooodles liquor store bear

One of the first things to go when you’re drinking any quantity of vodka is punctuation. Add some Kahlua and you can say bye-bye to your caps as well. Michael’s notes are my very favorite kind—when you are three sheets to the wind you can be totally honest.

The White Russian didn’t originate in Russia; but it contains vodka, hence the name. Add cream to a Black Russian and there you have it.

There are dozens of variations on this drink but the classic method is to pour vodka and Kahlua over ice cubes and then add half-and-half. It’s totally, totally, totally yummy.

Michael mentioned that the drink is “girlish,” which raises the question: Are there “girl” drinks and “boy” drinks?

Here at LBHQ we don’t go in for gender stereotypes so much as we do massive, unspecific overgeneralizations. To put it more honestly, I’m freaking scared that someone will hunt me down if I start spouting off about which spirits I like to wear a dress while drinking (and there are some). So instead here’s a sampling of personality traits and drinks to match.

White Russian, fave drink of "the Dude" Lebowski. Drinking makes us all better people.

BEER—You’re down to earth and easy to please. Sometimes you leave appliances in your yard.

COOLERS—You’re underage. Or maybe a sugar junkie.

BLENDER DRINKS—You like drama in your relationships. You also like loud, mechanical whirring sounds.

COCKTAILS—You’re purposeful and know what you want. To you, blender-drink fans are your bitches.

WHITE WINE—You’re optimistic but sometimes insecure. You’d like to be a nudist but you don’t know how.

RED WINE—You’re classic and confident but not very street-smart. For instance, you wouldn’t know how to shiv someone with a broken bottle.

SHOTS—You don’t like wasting time. Ideally you’d like to get naked right now.