This week found us separated by an ocean and Megan sent in her review from the field. I wish the wine that I reviewed could have been amazing, but, alas, it was not.
That’s okay: Cara picked it.
Wine: La Sablette, Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie, Vin Blanc, 2008, $155.00 MXN
Rating: Mon Dieu! Quelle horreur! Fiche le camp!
Cara bought this week’s wine. I was an unwilling passenger, I’m afraid.
So here is my quick review. Crap. Crappity. Craptastic. Ass-tounding. Poo-rific. Not good. Crap, crap, crap. Awful. Butt-awful. Garbage, comes to mind; something like rubbish, like refuse. Crap. Reminds me of a fresh anus on a warm summer’s morn. Poop. Sour. Tart. Like crap. Cara said “oaky.” I didn’t taste oak so much as I tasted crap. She said, “oaky, with just a little …” then I raised one eyebrow and gave her my best “Come on …” look, she relented and agreed. “Yeah this is pretty bad.”
There is nothing worse than a truly bad glass of wine. You feel robbed. You feel defeated, in a way. You wanted things to be so much better, so different. Instead, you must give in the awfulness that is flowing past your teeth and into your mouth. You know that the relaxation that comes with savouring a glass of really nice wine has been taken from you, and there is nothing that can fix it.
Plus, factor in the man problems I’ve been having of late, and I was sure this wine was going to give me the worst night I’ve had in weeks. Yay for fire pee! (Note to readers: this wine did in fact make me urinate pure lava. I would avoid this wine in the future, if I were you.)
In short: I did not like this wine. I also noted that Cara did not finish her glass. “What’s that?” I asked her, “You don’t like your Hobo-Juice? Pity. It did cost 155 pesos. With the massive importation tax and mark-up, that’s a very, very cheap bottle of Muscatel you’re not drinking.” I tried to point out that a wine from France for 155 pesos was basically like a buying a bottle of French wine in Canada for about six or seven dollars. French wine is notoriously overpriced. To get a cheap bottle of French wine is like getting no name beer. It has alcohol in it, the basic ingredients for what’s on the label are in there, but not in the right places for it to taste anything like good. But Cara didn’t listen to my logic. It fell on deaf ears. Why didn’t she believe me? Why, why would she fly in the face of my sound argument and pouty facial expressions? The bottle was pretty.
Hey: we’ve all fallen for that one.
So, forget reviewing wine this week. Instead, let me share with you an idea I had for an episode of “House”.
A blogger who talks openly about his health issues gets read by an aspiring, and attractive, young doctor (Elisabeth Moss). She shares the hilarity she read this morning with her team of diagnosticians and is overheard by House (Hugh Laurie) who immediately diagnoses the blogger (Shia LaBoeuf) as having a very rare, very painless condition which will go away with an I.V. drip of … um … chlorophyll (why not?) after sleeping (painlessly) for half the episode like a stone angel. The rest of the episode, Jesse Spencer and Omar Epps play “Go Fish” while House plays mediocre blues on his guitar until the Blogger wakes up and immediately wins the lottery.
Tell me you wouldn’t watch that episode! You would, and you would want to see a follow-up episode in which Shia LaBoeuf fights zombies and cracks wise in a John Ritter-Woody Allen lovechild kind of way. “Great: she’s a zombie too. Zombie. Zombie. There’s a zombie. Everyone’s a zombie! I don’t get it: this couldn’t happen after graduation?? Oh boy: Run!”
As I write this, the wine has robbed all moisture from my mouth. I hate this wine. I want it to die. Plus, I think the bottle is way too phallic to be enjoyable.
I mean, suggestive is one thing. Ace and Gary is a whole nother.