26
Apr
11

in pursuit of the juiciest wine: day ninety-one (Signargues Côtes du Rhônes Villages Granacha 2007)

Man, the poetry world is busy lately. I’ve been running the Just Poets blog updating it with all the local poetry events and posting a poem day for National Poetry Month. I’ve been laying out and doing the cover for Michael Meyerhofer‘s Pure Elysium, which won the Palettes & Quills 2010 chapbook contest as judged by Dorianne Laux. (Her latest collection, The Book of Men, is wonderful. Look for a review here soon.) Here’s the Pure Elysium cover:

Pure Elysium full cover

I’m also just about to start editing issue 14 of Redactions: Poetry & Poetics – the I-90 Poetry Manifesto issue with guest editor Sean Thomas Dougherty. (There’s a good interview with him at Bookslut.) Then I have an anthology to layout and do the cover for. Plus, I gotta work my full-time job, too. Oh, and I’m planning the last reading of the season for the A Different Path Gallery Reading Series. You can read about the last reading of the season here.

Man, do I need a drink.

Tonight, I’m going to have Signargues Côtes du Rhônes Villages Granacha 2007. A Granacha from the Rhone valley. Robert Parker at the Wine Advocate gave it 91 points. So it will probably be a big, fruity wine with lots of alcohol. Bonus – It’s an old vine wine. Sweet.

I’ve been dying to drink this for about two weeks, so here it goes.

It shimmers in ruby like thick stained glass windows that have never been clean and the sun is setting so its low angles of sunlight barely light it and create the hint of a glow.

The nose is pleasant with some bright berries, dark raspberries, and flowers. And there’s a hint of duck.

My first sip is Yum and It will go good with cheese. I pictured a yellowy orange cheese. (Grammar rule: don’t hyphenate compound modifiers if the word ends with a y.)

When I taste the Granacha, I pick up the duck again. I also get some big, dark berries. The finish is a bit spicy, too. This wine is almost meaty, too. I feel like I can almost eat it. Or maybe I just want to. Oh, to eat a wine. That would be divine. (Or should I say, devine. Ha.)

The body doesn’t give much. It’s like it wants to let loose and be juicy, but it’s being anal about something. Maybe it needs more time to open, though it’s been over an hour. Maybe it needs a decanter. Maybe it needs tomorrow. Don’t we all need tomorrow. As long as tomorrow arrives with me, all is good.

I don’t have much else to say about this wine. I hope I didn’t pay more than $15 for it.

. . .

So I’ve been swirling the glass around for the last half hour, and it’s opening. The berries are definitely brighter. There’s less dank.

The DankMoe: Oh, everybody is going to family restaurants these days, tsk. Seems nobody wants to hang out in a dank pit no more.
Carl: You ain’t thinking of getting rid of the dank, are you, Moe?
Moe: Ehh, maybe I am.
Carl: Oh, but Moe: the dank. The dank!

I like less dank, and this wine is slowly getting better. It’s lively and almost jammy. A thin jammy.

It’s such a different wine in the last half hour.

I’m digging it.

I’m giving it an A-. I love it.//


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