That actually sounds like a movie, doesn’t it?

I’ve been remiss by not writing about “The River of Skulls” by Twisted Oak Winery. Winemaker Jeff Stai was good enough to send me a couple of bottles to review & I must apologize for not getting to them quicker.

My friends & I have enjoyed both bottles - the first was on my birthday at the beginning of September & the most recent was last night at my monthly wine tasting group party. We dressed up for Halloween & I did my best Indiana Jones impression.

This limited production, single-vineyard 2006 vintage wine is a blend of 90% Mourvedre & 10% Syrah has a history tailor made for Halloween:

“In 1805, Lieutenant Gabriel Moraga was ordered by the Spanish Governor of California to explore the Great Central Valley. Displace the local Natives & rename everything he found. Well, one day Gabe & his horsemen came across a river the banks of which were littered with skulls. No one knows for sure how the skulls came to be on the banks of this river. Perhaps they were the remains of an ancient battle, or a terrible plague. Or perhaps it was a really great party that suddenly went horribly wrong. Whatever the case old Gabe, being a true master of the obvious, named this river “El Rio De Las Calaveras” or in English, “The River of Skulls.”

“The River of Skulls” is a dark wine - darker than blood. Red fruits & spices combine for a wine that tastes as good as it smells. This was a big hit among my friends during my birthday party as well as last night’s Halloween bash.

Several of my wine-drinking blogger friends agreed with me:

• Rich from A Passionate Foodie
• Dr. Debs from Good Wine Under $20
• John from Anything Wine
• Tim from Winecast

Originally published Oct. 26, 2008.

What does she need those bananas for?

Fiction by Joe Roberts

“Shugah… what in deee hell are you doin’ in thayre?”

Simon asked the question lazily, his southern drawl quickening on the word hell but elongating “there” as if it were a piece of warm taffy, stretching it to the point where it wasn’t exactly broken, but was almost so thin that the word hung nearly transparent in the stuffy hotel room air. He was laying on the bed, his heavy frame sinking into the standard-issue hotel room duvet, the short of his best suit unbuttoned so that it opened like the petals of a flower to reveal his round, ample paunch. He was rubbing his thinning hair the way he did when his impatience was starting to build, or when he was startled by something he didn’t expect. Bethany might have thought to herself that Simon was rubbing his hair the same way he did when he got pulled over by the cops for speeding, or just before he rearranged that guy’s face in Spring Canyon. She didn’t think this, however, because she didn’t know that Simon was rubbing his hair; she was too busy looking for ice.

“I ahm lookin’ for iiiiice,” she said.

“Darlin’, there is noooo iiiice in that thar little fridge. You’d have a better chance of findin’ James Riddle Hoffa in thar than iiiice. If you wahnt iiiice, you need to put on some clothes an’ trot your tush down to the iiiice mahchine.”

Bethany spun around, then shot up standing, almost falling over, forgetting that she still had her high heels on. She fixed a steely glance on Simon.

“Well, then, why don’t yoouuuuu do a girl a fahvor an’ go get us some iiiice? You’re a little more fit for public consumption riiiight now.” She changed her demeanor quickly, strutting the short length from the mini-bar fridge to the bed, lowering herself & crawling cat-like so that she ended up crouched over Simon, blocking his view of the television and stroking his rotund stomach gingerly with her index finger, wine bottle still in her left hand.

Simon arched his head slightly to the left, ignoring her advances. “Well, for one thang, Ahm not gettin’ us iiice in that scenahrio, I’d be gettin’ you iiice,” he said. “For anothah, I ahm watching a Godzillah movie. And the cooo-dah-graw in this little situation is that there is nooooo place for iiice when you ahr drinkin’ Baaaahroloooo.”

He stopped trying to look at the TV, his face growing serious & fixed the potent stare of his green eyes into hers. “Do ahh need to remind you how many people got hurt for that Baaaahroloooo?” he asked.

Bethany was going to tell him that she didn’t care, she didn’t ask for anybody to get hurt & she certainly didn’t ask for warm Barolo, but just as she opened her mouth, they were interrupted by a loud & forceful banging at the hotel room door. Both of their heads turned in alarm towards the only exit in the room. Bethany’s mouth, lips stained a reddish purple from the Barolo, dropped open in terror; but Simon didn’t move, save for a slight widening in his eyes.

“Looks like those Liquor Control boys ain’t quite had enuff yet,” he said. “Sugah, get into the closet.” Just as she was rising off of the bed, he grabbed her by the wrist.

“Take the Bahrolooo. Leave the corkscrew….”

zooeyelaine:

wit & whistle

You don’t think it can be that easy, do you?

Today I had the wonderful opportunity to attend a Portuguese wine and Port tasting at The Harvard Club of Boston. Arranged by Harron and Associates, the event featured more than 33 different vineyards and wineries from all around Portugal.

While the country is undoubtedly known more for its Ports and heavy reds, I chose the road less traveled and focused exclusively on whites. When many decide to zig, I choose to zag.

Among the many wines I enjoyed are:

• DOC Douro Adriano by Ramos Pinto
• Coroa d’Ouro DOC by Pocas
• Apegadas VQPRD by Quinta das Apegadas
• Paco de Teixeiro Regional by Montez Champalimaud
• Herdade Grande Vinho Regional
• Loios Regional by J. Portugal Ramos
• Fado Regional by Terras de Alter
• Cerejeiras Regional by Companhia Agricola o Sanguinhal
• Dona Maria Amantis Regional by Dona Maria Vinhos
• Gatao DOC by Sociedade dos Vinhos Borges

All were tasty in their own way, but two stood out for me:

• Gazela DOC by Sogrape Vinhos - This light, green-smelling Vino Verde is super fun to drink. It has a very refreshing, zesty finish that immediately reminded me of lemon/lime soda. Think about a light 7Up with a touch of alcohol. Buy this in the summer and you’ll be a superstar!
• Arinto DOC by Manuel do Santos Campolargo - This is a fascinating, acidic white that flat out smells like poop! Not the typical “barnyard” smells you associate with some Rhone reds, but stinky diapers! Luckily its tastes much better than it smells! This one is NOT for the faint hearted among you.

At events like this, it’s always terrific to see local wine-tasting friends like Jonathon Alsop of the Boston Wine School, Richard Auffrey of The Passionate Foodie, and Ken Hoggins of Ken’s Wine Guide, and more.

Originally published Oct. 21, 2008.

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