I’ll admit from the outset that I’m somewhat of a technophobe. It took me awhile to get a cellphone that had e-mail capabilities, I fumble around with Excel like Garo Yepremeian in the ’73 Super Bowl and need my eight year old son to help me set up a password on my computer.
But with all this said, can we please, please slow down when it comes to wine innovation?
So now some resourceful restauranteurs are using a keg system to serve wine by the glass, making it not only cheaper but less wasteful, as the wine can last far longer than it would with a corked bottle behind the bar. Yes, all these things on the surface are good – it’s hard to complain when the wine being poured into a glass you have purchased is as fresh and flavorful as if the bottle was just opened and yet, at the same time, part of the allure of wine is the ancient way its rituals have been passed down for thousands of years.
In some ways, I want my friendly neighborhood bar keep to grab that bottle of Pinot from behind him, pull the cork and pour my glass right in front of me instead of having to put on a Hazmat suit, flip the carbon filtration system to the ready position – which can only be done together with another co-worker who must turn his key at exactly the same moment, set the pour spout to “ON” and wait for the wine, forced by nitrogen, to make its serpentine journey from wherever, into a glass to be served.
I know I love my Petite Sirah cut with a little N. Don’t you?
Now you may ask, “Okay, Daddy Traditionalist, what about screw tops?” Okay, I like them. Not to replace corks but just to assist in my laziness. I love the feeling of going to open a school night wine and finding a screw top. Means I’ll be drinking sooner. But I prefer when I buy wine at a restaurant, to enjoy the whole experience of having the wine presented to me, the cork being pulled by the sommelier or server and having the wine come to my glass that way.
Call me old fashioned, call me a curmudgeon, heck call me about to turn 44 (hopefully that explains some of my charming contradictions).
For me, wine is one of life’s pleasures that does not require updating with fast aging swizzle sticks, Wine Pod’s (is Apple suing?) or any other Jetsons-esque machinery for getting me my glassful of vino.
Just pull and pour, baby.
Thirty-two wines started this competition a few weeks ago, all with a chance to win the first year of
Bodega Norton Malbec
Throughout the course of
Wine Futures, or put another way, paying for the privilege of owning a wine years before it will ever see the inside of a bottle, have been taking a hit lately, as more and more people (noticeably cash poor) are
And then there were four.
Last I checked the
I was hoping to find a subject to write about as a break from the rigors of
My stinky palate and I went into Round Two feeling pretty good about the results so far. The moral minority had spoken, questioning foul calls, screaming about illegal defenses and even suggesting that a late three pointer should have only been a two since part of the players shoelace had actually grazed the line.
Editors Note: My scoring system for Grape Madness is meant to resemble basketball scores, not globally recognized wine critics who write newsletters or publish in major magazine’s scores…
Like Clay over Liston three days before I was born in ’65, Marissa Tomei over Joan Plowright at the Oscars in 1993 and Princeton defeating UCLA in 1996 (that one’s for you Jason), upsets have captivated crowds since some Gladiator took down a lion at the Coliseum in ’2.