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 Ongoing Thoughts Five:

By William E. Steinman:

April 21, 2008:

 

My Love Affair with Wine:

I have had a love affair with wine for many years. I first discovered it when I was a field serviceman for Bendix Corporation many years ago. I had to travel about North America to several cities to install, service, and repair top-secret computer controlled systems. I usually traveled alone. That may sound glamorous, but it becomes a real drag after a few years. I knew I had been doing it too long when before dinner I walked into a hotel bar and the bartender put the beer I normally ordered on the bar before I ordered it. I drank the beer and paid for it, but I never returned to that bar.

 

A person who is determined to be a faithful spouse is in a dilemma when alone in a strange city. There is nothing to do. By sitting in a pub drinking, I was getting fat. That became a problem I have been dealing with ever since. I knew I had to stop that and I did. That left me sitting in my room watching dumb television shows. That is not much fun either. For sure, I knew where the nightspots were, but I only tried that a few times. When I walked in alone, I became a target for the harlots. It is not that I am particularly attractive. Even when young I was not, but that is not part of the game. I was a well-dressed traveler alone with some spending money and as such, I looked like business to the girls. They would not stop hitting on me.

 

I never completely solved those problems of being alone on the road. I just sent many lonely nights alone in a motel room and I did a great deal of reading. Can you hear the sad violin music? Okay, it was on one of those trips that I discovered there were other wines besides Manischewitz. Manischewitz is a sickening sweet concord wine I sometimes drank when I was a punk kid. It could usually be bought for 79 cents a bottle at the local drug store and the clerk who sold it winked at the age of a kid buying it. One time, I drank too much of that stuff and got very ill. I got the dry heaves and almost heaved my guts out. I did recover, but it was many years before I could even look at a bottle of wine without getting nauseous.

 

Much later, while I was on the road, my bosses, in their infinite wisdom, decided to send a fool along to help me in an installation. He was not a help, but a hindrance. However, he was a person to talk to, which was better than an empty room. I was sick of beer and while we were in a nearby store, on a hunch, I purchase a bottle of burgundy and a large bottle of Seven-Up.

 

After dinner, we sat in his room. He drank something while I mixed this burgundy with soda and sipped it. I realize now that that was a sin, but I was ignorant at the time. The more of this concoction I drank, the more reasonable and intelligent this fool became. By the time I went off to my own room and bed, he seemed like a fine fellow. The next evening I did the same thing and I discovered the burgundy tasted pretty good without soda. I also discover it had just as much flavor and lasted much longer when I sipped it. Remember I was a beer drinker and beer drinkers do not sip. Sipping is an acquired skill.

 

Later, at home I discovered burgundy was not the top of the line for my tastes. I began seeking out wine stores and tried many different varieties. In case you don’t know, becoming a wine aficionado can be very expensive. You can easily pay 25 bucks or more for a bottle of wine with no guarantee it will be drinkable. I have purchase some excellent wines for 15 bucks and some very bad wines for 25 bucks in the same store. There is no way of knowing. It is a very costly crapshoot. Also, at 250 bucks or more a case you are not inclined to open a bottle with dinner every evening.

 

Then a friend reintroduced me to the art of wine making. I had tried it previously and failed. He made an excellent zinfandel and gave me a bottle out of pity, I guess. At that time, I had some French Hybrid gapes (Baco Noir) growing on my own arbor. He and I both made a bad batch of wine and both threw it out, but that got me started. You can read about this adventure in my archives under “Previous Forum” and “Forum 2006.” Then I discover wine kits. That was the easy secret I had been looking for. I found I can make two cases of very good wine with one kit and my cost is less than three bucks a bottle. Compare that to the cost of 15 to 25 bucks a bottle at the wine store. In addition, using these kits, I have never made a bad bottle of wine. Every bottle is very good to excellent. That is because these kits are made with juice concentrates and blended by experts. They are chemically balanced for a perfect wine every time.

 

The kits I use are “Vintners Reserve Red Wine Kits.” These kits allegedly make six gallons of wine. However, on a tip from the sellers I make five gallons with one kit. That gives me a yield of 25 and 1/2 bottles per kit, a little more than two cases. Now, my wine cellar makes it look like I am wealthy. I am not, but I eat and drink as though I were. This does not mean I am a gourmand or a drunk. It is quality not quantity for us pseudo wealthy folk. With a few years of experience, I have developed my own list of favorite kits. Here it is.

 

Barolo is Italian style wine of the Piedmont District in Italy. It goes with anything Italian.

Red Bordeaux is a French style wine.

Cabernet Sauvignon is also a French style.

Chianti is an Italian style from the Tuscany Region. Again, it works with anything Italian.

Mezza Luna, as far as I can tell is Vintners own blend of juices.

Pinot Noir, a French wine is more delicate than most reds.

Shiraz is a robust Australian style wine.

Zinfandel is made from the Zinfandel grapes. It is very smooth with good body.

One I have never tried before is Valpolicella. It is an Italian wine from the Veneto region. I will try it this year. I am sure it will be outstanding.

 

As I said, these are all red wines. I have never developed a taste for white wines so I cannot comment. Mrs. Gaffer sometimes drinks a white Zinfandel, but she much prefers the red wines from my cellar.
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