"I don't care what you have to do. I just want to taste my Thanksgiving turkey."

It was a simple plea from a guy on day seven of a sinus infection that showed no signs of letting up. Before parenthood, I never got sick. Maybe once every three years. Even then, I'd knock it out in a couple days. Now (especially with a critter in day care), I constantly feel as if I need to be wrapped up in bandages and sent off to live with the lepers. A bit of an extreme metaphor to describe my situation, but the metaphor well is about as dry as...

...

...uh, something dry. See?

Anyway, I'd hit up a doc-in-the-box on the way home from the office on Thanksgiving Eve, still dealing exclusively with a diet of textures, salty, sweet, bitter, and sour. My nose was still clogged, keeping my sense of smell- the true vessel of flavor recognition to the brain- in check. But, with the most gluttonous day of the year on the horizon, simply gumming the textures of soft foods like mashed potatoes and stuffing seemed...unacceptable. Unthinkable. Unholy. And what of the wines? Thanksgiving ushers in the season of emptying out one's wine stash. The good stuff had to come out, and it had to be consumed as ravenously as the smorgasbord of turkey and bland carbs.

"Hmm. You really should have come in here earlier than today. Do you have a problem with shots?" The doc was offering a glimmer of hope, as the cost of getting poked. Two fleeting pin pricks in exchange for rich, meaty mouthfuls of drumstick; buttery, fluffy potatoes; a nose full of cranberries in a fresh glass of Brouilly; the honeyed nectar that is slightly-chilled Sauternes, served with a slice of warm apple pie...

Needless to say, my pants were around my ankles. A shot of cortisone in the left cheek, and a shot of antibiotics in the right (if you're currently disturbed by a mental image of my bare rump, watch this to desensitize yourself). 24 hours later, I was on the mend, and digging into a 3-day bender of Crestor-ic proportions.

Thank you, science. You've made it fun to write about food and wine again.

Okay, bad example. Not a classic. But worth a picture at a nearby table, when Ed from Wine Tonite! and I ended up at The Vortex for some serious burgers (not this serious). Alas, that was the end of the evening...

...it began at a tasting hosted by the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux (disclaimer: I was invited as a member of the Society of Wine Educators). We got to taste from among 80+ châteaux from the Bordeaux region*, including the Médoc, Graves, Sauternes, Barsac, St. Émilion, and Pomerol. Not too shabby for a snot-nosed kid from the sticks.

*Baby Steps: Bordeaux is a famous wine region in Southwest France, known for some of the most expensive and long-lived Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot-based wines, as well as some of the richest (in more ways than one) sweet wines from Sauternes. The red grapes allowed in this region are Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Malbec (called "Côt" here), and Petit Verdot. The white grapes allowed are Sémillon, Sauvignon Blanc, and Muscadelle.

My (extremely brief) impression of the vintage was that 2007 made for some very approachable wines. Some Bordeaux vintages are built to age for 20, 30, 50+ years (like 2005). These, although still having some grip of tannin (particularly those from Pauillac and St. Estèphe, suggesting aging potential), showed good fruit, and I felt many were ready to drink (some of the Margaux and St. Julien in particular). And the Sauternes and Barsac....[insert Homer Simpson-style gurgling noises here]. Incredible noses of honey, apricots, and ginger gave way to the wines that I just couldn't manage to spit out.

Anyway, you can find much better detailed glimpses into the tasting at Wine and I and Wine Tonite! I- however- felt I would best do this tasting homage by taking some clips and dubbing them over with sassy electronica...Sacrebleu!