Thursday, May 24, 2012

Title

                Lot of people talking about unicorns these days.  Wait, is unicorns capitalized? Well, if it isn’t it should be. It’s a fucking mythical creature for fuck’s sake.
                That being said don’t expect me to go on a tangent about how this wine I got to put in my maw this evening is like a Unicorn.  Firstly, I don’t believe it’s a good idea to put a Unicorn in one’s mouth.  Not a live one anyway.  Like if it’s a bacon wrapped grilled tenderloin of Unicorn, I’d be all over that shit.  I hear there’s a four star restaurant in Colorado that lets you pick out your Unicorn and shoot it so that the chef there can prepare it for you however you’d like.  Good times.
                And I just went on that tangent and Unicorns aren’t the point.  The point is this wine I’m talking about.  What was it like?  It was like putting a mythical creature in my mouth.  But not a Unicorn.  A palate like a soft red late afternoon ray of sun.  And sitting right in the center of that ray of sun was a 1967 Cherry Red Corvette Sting Ray.  With a naked chick standing right next to it.  I’m pretty sure everything that I can think of that’s awesome was going on with this wine. 
                You know what else is cool.  Darth Vader.  This wine had an unmistakable Darth Vaderiness on the mid-palate.  The Darth Vader at the beginning of Star Wars, walking confidently down the halls amongst the defeated, I definitely got a strong sense of that in the mid palate.
                The mouthfeel.  Is it actually possible to live inside of a Rainbow?  Has anyone ever tried it?  I would bet every dime I have that living in a fucking rainbow tastes like this thing did.  Mouthfeel wise.  So, Vader on the mid-palate.  Living in a fucking rainbow for overall mouthfeel.  I could taste it ruin my ability to enjoy pinot for at least a few weeks.  What’s going to live up to that? How deep a wormhole am I willing to go down to find out?
                I heard about this guy once and apparently he’s into shiny clothing but he’s also really into vino.  SO much so he had to make it.  He had to travel through the perils of central California, an untamed wasteland on which Mel Gibson’s greatest accomplishment, the movie The Road Warrior, was based.  He found a mound of limestone in the middle of nowhere overlooking what is now the Silicone Valley.  They told him to just walk away, but he put in.  Grew grapes.  Plotted. 
                Vineyards got planted and things were coming to fruition…That fucking sentence back there, is horrible.  It sounds like the voiceover for a post montage scene in a Disney movie.
                Long story short he began making vino.  Some Chard, mostly pinot.   (Fuck I did it again.)   The vino he makes is consistently some of the best wines I’ve ever had when it comes to mind boggling balance and subtle explosiveness.  It is a quiet storm.  This is probably what the wine that Jesus made tasted like. 
                I’m speaking of Calera.  
                A friend recently shared a 2005 Calera Selleck Pinot Noir.  Forrest floor, ripe cherries, platinum stripper pole…fuckin juice.  Cherubs danced around my head in jerky hip hop movements and then I was allowed to kill them all with my mind.  The wine took me to a place that’s hard to come back from.  A wall of jadedness will follow me around like a dark cloud as I meander through different wines in the coming weeks.  I’m many times thankful none the less.  No one ever said the high white note didn't cost anything..   

1 comment: