Tuesday, December 1, 2009
Thanks a lot, Santa
It doesn't happen often, but the weather's actually pretty cold outside on these December (already?) nights in Atlanta. Okay, Minnesota, cold's a relative term, but it's chilly enough for crackling fires, hearty stews, and hefty wines.
I have single vineyard California Cabernets, Médoc Bordeaux, and Petite Sirahs in the keep, as well as best-laid plans to trick the wife into letting me tuck into some Barolos, Rhône Syrahs, and CDP's over the next month (she'll probably be reading this, so the cat's out of the bag...strategies of persuasion welcome in the comment section). Assuming all goes to plan, I'll have a treasure trove or bag-of-tricks or "money bin"- if you will- of tasty, rib-stickin' wines to enjoy this holiday season.
Tonight would be such an occasion for a real tooth-stainer. As the fire roars, I should be stuffing my nose into heady bouquets of currant, cedar box, earth, pepper, meats, smoke, spice, tar, roses, pencil shavings, black fruits, red fruits, fruit fruits...dang, I think I'm gonna go get a glass-
-oh, crap. Stymied! Put the Christmas tree up tonight (heavy-laden with colored lights to the chagrin of the better-half, but we have an every-other-year compromise working), and the pine pollen, dust, and other airborne flotsam kicked up by wrestling a 10-foot tree around has rendered my olfactory senses useless.
Damn.
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