This wine is a GSM (Granche/Syrah/Mourvèdre) with a California twist. California sunshine in the form of Zin and Barbera make dank addition to the crusty old Côtes du Rhône Blend.
Inky black purple in color like Death Valley on a new moon. Plum and dark red fruit on the nose surf into a jammy explosion when this baby hits your tongue like an earthquake. After that initial hit, the sour cherry acid from the Barbera peaks like the middle of a Dead concert.
Savory olive and meaty flavor dominates the mid palate like a leather daddy at the Folsom Street Fair.
The comedown is creamy Watsonville strawberry with a lingering white pepper finish and a high (15.2%) alcohol tingle.
Decant before serving, fresh out the bottle this wine is more crowded than an LA freeway at rush hour, but let it open up and be rewarded with a 70mph trip straight to Yummyland. It also throws sediments like shaking the sand out of your board shorts. (See Second Photo)
In conclusion, this wine is hella bitchen!
Rib Eye Steak with Rosemary Compound Butter Point Reyes Blue Cheese Fighting the heteronormative gender binary patriarchy
The black fruits on this wine stand out like a Gaucho on a golf course. Stick your nose in the glass and you’ll see what I mean. Proudly wearing his poncho and knocking the ball 300 yards without dropping his hand rolled cigarette.
This is a rustic wine, it has round corners like a madam in a frontier brothel. If you like this wine you’ll call it “voluptuous” if you don’t you’ll call it flabby. The tannins are softer than a basset hound puppy’s ears.
Give it a minute in your face hole and it starts to show some unexpected depth, smoky tobacco and leather dominate the mid palate with a green peppercorn finish. This wine will lasso your tongue with it’s rebenque and stick it’s hand up your achiripá (look those words up) to tickle yer sack with it’s calloused hands.
Santa Maria Tri Tip
There’s one thing NOBODY tells you about children, and it’s hit me like a ton of bricks this week. My wife went away for the weekend on a camping trip with her girlfriends and has a two day business trip mid week. That’s 5 days of just me, alone with the kids. The thing nobody tells you about small children is…THEY’RE BORING AS HELL.
When you’re about to have kids everybody tells you about the horror stories, the lack of sleep, the excretory nightmares, the tantrums, and the messes. Then they tell you about the precious memories, the cuddles, the tea parties, the silly things they say, the triumphs and the unconditional love. They conveniently leave out everything else and that everything is generally boring.
Seriously, once you get past the cute, small children bring very little to the table in terms of social interaction. They’re terrible conversationalists, they repeat the same stories ad-nauseum, yet they never seem to tire of them. Their utter lack of anything resembling empathy will have them happily insisting that you read the same book over and over, long past the point when a non-sadist would tire of the defeated look in your eyes.
The people who design children’s board games should be shot. Candyland is a pointless exercise in frustration and futility, likewise Chutes’n’Ladders seems calculated to drive an adult brain to implosion with it’s arbitrariness. They’re built entirely on chance, with no thought to strategy or entertainment, it’s just spin the spinner and see what crappy pointless move your annoyingly cheerful game piece must take next. It’s like slot machines without the alcohol and an unwritten rule that you have to be happy about the success of your fellow players at the expense of your own.
I love my kids, we have lots of adventures together and I wouldn’t trade those experiences for anything. But, the rest is boring.