Archive | drinks RSS feed for this section

Poe Wine

12 Oct

The wine: Lustau “Los Arcos” Amontillado.

In all honesty I blame my goth predilection on someone giving me the complete works of Edgar Allen Poe when I was seven.

I was into big books. And someone saw fit to fill my mind with telltale hearts and ravens and (personal fave) noir kittens.

Also there is a story called the Cask of Amontillado. It follows the Poe protocol of death and maybe walling in alive people and…you know what?

If someone told me I could not “tell Amontillado from Sherry”, much like the protagonist-ish (?), I’d be angry.

Seeing as AMONTILLADO IS SHERRY. Wall them in!

Just kidding. But as a woman in wine, if I had a walled-in corpse for every man who tried to tell me they knew better about wine than I do…I’d…well I’d either have a lot of secrets or be on the fast track to either death row or/and being institutionalized.

Fortunately I realize that walling in one dude won’t fix systemic toxic masculinity.

Shall we talk about this wine? I’m not even gonna try to explain soleras right now but know that Amontillado is sherry that starts as something aged under a veil of “flor”, a type of yeast that adds all sort of brioche and bruised apple notes THEN gets some oxidative aging happens making it nutty and caramelly EXCEPT! Except it is dry. No residual sugar.

Amontillado is probably my favorite Sherry unless we think of Palo Cortado which is sorta the same but…let’s not get into that. It’s controversial and I don’t want to inspire too many Poe thoughts.

This amontillado is slightly higher on the nuts and brown sugar but there is raw baguette in there.

Crud I thought I didn’t like sherry but…I love some and this is one of the some.

Not just because it’s goth as fuck.

Because it’s goth af and damned delicious.

Good night my goth darlings. May the black lipstick force be with you.

Advertisements

football wine, baseball post

14 Sep

I am a Cardinals baseball girl. But I have yet to stumble on wine made by a Cardinal.

In St. Louis they inject baseball into your veins on birth. For some it is a delayed reaction love. I grew up going to games, but they terrified me because a) it was a lot of screaming adults and b) when you are little you are short and close to the ground and the ground smells like beer and I do not like beer.

Then, a few months before leaving for Los Angeles I was in a play with a bunch of baseball fans. It was 2006, and we made it to the World Series. The cast’s enthusiasm caught me. Last game of the series we did that play (“The Birthday Party” by Harold Pinter) faster than ever before so we could run backstage to our tiny television and see what was happening. We took our bows and RAN off the stage in time to see the final pitch. Oh what a night! Glorious.

Fantasy baseball will be my next step.

But can sports people make wines? I could not help but wanna try a sport person’s vino. I was recently given Intercept Pinot Noir and Chardonnay. It is made by Charles Woodson–his love of wine started while playing for the Raiders and living in Napa. I decided to give football some damn respect.

Also really liked the fact that while Woodson stilled played he had/has (?) a label called TwentyFour. But the NFL would not allow players to endorse alcoholic bevs. And yet he made wine anyway. Now that he’s not a player he can be totally public about his vinous life.

This is my review. Take from it what you will.

The labels:

Supes into them. I’m a cat person and there is a lion leaping. I am nothing if not a leaping lion fan. you know the leaping lords of the 12 Days of Christmas? Fuck that, I want leaping lions.

Then I smelled and tasted. It smells like California Pinot Noir. It has a bite and a spicy burn and is cherries for days. It looks garnet-ish own the glass. It tastes like cherry preserves but not sweet. It has little tannins and much alcohol. Totally a pleasure. Sometimes a girl needs a ripe Cali Pinot Noir like…I dunno I guess sometimes a girl just needs a ripe Cali Pinot.

Now for the Chard. I am always concerned about California Chardonnay. Will it be an oak bomb? Will there be so much butter I need a piece of bread?*

*trick question I always need bread

But no! It really is quite pleasant. Rather boozy, yes. But that’s okay. The body is full but merely hints at butter and oak and has quite a bit of…quince? Let’s call it quince.

What do you know–football (American football that is) players make tasty vino.

Now I’m off to check my baseball app. Please let me know if there are baseball wines I need.

 

Rosé indoors al fresco

29 Jun

Skip to the end for this entry’s challenge.

Mouton gets the award for lushest swag of the year:

The hearty canvas of the bag they sent me with the accompanying insulated sleeve and picnic throw scream “I am solid! But also pink! So!”

And so.

So I had myself a little indoor picnic because I like to celebrate small goth victories like the clouds of Los Angeles’ June gloom.

Not pictured: pistachio cake with pistachio frosting, lemon curd, and milk crumb topping.

Oh wait here’s a picture. It’s ugly though.

There’s a reason this blog is called Scrumptious GRUEL:

I could go on about the marvelous things I make from the Momofuko Milk Bar cookbook but let’s get to the rosé.

Here’s what you’ll feel in a bottle of Mouton Cadet Rosé:

Raspberries and stones. running streams. Strong love. An embrace with vigor. Which is my favorite type of embrace.

Vigorous.

Damn that’s a great word.

More stony up front perhaps a masquerade of the masculinity assumed with Bordeaux yet label and swag is pink but masculine pink and I do maintain real men wear pink.

And so do real goths.

Humble request for someone to make a Venn diagram of goth, toxic masculinity, pink, mental health, and…last one is your call.

Go!

Blinded

11 Apr

Oh certainly this was not truly blind. I did know I had three Pinot Noirs. But that was it.

Oh wait no I did know one was from Santa Barbara County, one from Russian River Valley, and one from Willamette Valley. So Southern California, Northern California and Oregon.

Oh and they are all from Siduri. These lovely samples.

But I wondered…can I identify Pinots from around the…west coast? I am a Santa Barbara (especially Santa Rita Hills) buff–but would I know it and favor it in a blind tasting?

I braved myself to feel like a bad fan lest I prefer one of the other regions.

Wine one felt extra light. I’d call it discount (that’s not an insult) Bourgogne. Like just wine you’d taste and think “basic Bourgogne but a leeeeeettle lighter” ergo I am thinking Oregon. But before making a call wanted to taste the other two.

Wine two said cherry jam af. It was ripe and bunches fuller. And had oak n things. Like also vanilla and a cough medicine but the tasty kind and I’m so into that so…well let’s look at wine three.

Three! Was fruit rich but not as cooked as two. There was earth there too. Also I liked it best.

I made my decisions. 1) Willamette 2) Russian River 3) Santa Barbara

And I was right! Ran the flight by my bf too who just looking at the wine deduced the answers.

This was a good test. Siduri is a good wine.

Pinot Noir is your friend.

Especially from Santa Barbara. Wow I’m a loyal wine wife.

Cheers sweet babies. Wrap up some pinots and blind test yourself…

I’m back! At least for now

4 Dec

I’ve been very busy with things like frolicking in Griffith Park at night and taking WSET Diploma tests and getting accepted into the Professional Wine Writers Symposium at Meadowood and telling stories on stage and making podcasts and things. And writing things for Delectable and going to San Diego for wine festivals and going to St. Louis to make pie for thanksgiving and taking my parents and their friends on wine journey because they were a captive thanksgiving dinner audience. If they wanted to drink the Bea they had to listen to me talk about it dang it! They did not seem to mind after all Bea is BEAtiful.

Anyway I just released a very fun winemaker interview episode of The Wine Situation so tune in here yayyyyyyy

Life has been full of happy things. Please enjoy with me.

Bittersweet love

28 Aug

Hallo! I wrote another lil’ something for Delectable about amaro! You can learn all the fancy fun facts (and lack thereof) and get my tasting notes on them here but in the meantime let me introduce you to my favorite new find of the year: Amaro Dell’Erbolista.

I broke down and got it after numerous people sang it’s praises to me. It’s a big ol’ bottle and once you taste you’ll be glad. It is one of the bitterest if the bitter yet has a backdrop of toasted marshmallow that haunts you. Close your eyes take a sip and see if you don’t see a campfire. Like if you could put a toasted marshmallow on an autumn leaf I imagine it tastes like this bathed in citrus juice.

Granted I haven’t had a toasted marshmallow in a minute, being vegetarian. But I’ve a had a vegan mallow here and there so I think I remember what the genuine article tastes like?

Get some and you be the judge.

Muah, dahlings. Off to shoot an audition then get back to work on my next two Delectable pieces for September. Hope to keep them bitter and sweet as my…personality? I dunno I’m not bitter. Just a little damaged. But hopeful. Okay not gonna get deep here.

Go get some amaro.

I drank a Scotch and I liked it

7 Aug

Oh wow! I’ve been anti-Scotch since the time we met. Which was when I was learning about “tolerance” so…just imagine why the flavor of it triggered icky feelings for some time.

But ample time had passed and while I no longer associated scotch with wacky St Louisans fetching late night White Castle and (ahem) scotch coming up…I still didn’t like it. For the same reason I don’t like a lot of mezcal: I’m not into smokey flavors.

Well, I had a pal determined to turn my head and I’m glad he did. The Glenmorangie Highlands Single Malt Scotch “Nectar D’Or” 12 year whisky with a Sauternes barrel finish is scrumptious enough for a gruel-head like me. I probably phrased the name all wrong but you can’t blame me too much I’m sipping Scotch.

This has just a whiff of smoke at the end that ballasts the honey, vanilla and marmalade that you get up front. It’s that friend who has one slightly annoying quirk but they are so delightful that the quirk becomes endearing. Or it’s the gap in the supermodels’s tooth.

Anyway. I’ll stop saying I hate scotch. Much like I tell people that if you think you hate Los Angeles you just have to find the part you like, it seems you just have to find a scotch that suits you.

I actually am a bit Scottish–me mum’s a Campbell so I feel better knowing I don’t hate a drink that runs in my veins.