The key to a beautiful Pho is the broth. Even if I hadn’t learned that later, it’s something I knew intuitively; the aroma was intoxicating, fragrant, and heady.
Just about every wine book I have has dated itself by honing in on specific vintages, which, years later, are no longer available, making the recommendations irrelevant. In manufacturing they call that planned obsolescence.
Downtown Vegas will be a force and although it will probably forever be in the shadow of the far more glamorous Strip, will be a place where locals can come to get their Vegas on.
Now this combination is the essence of food and wine. This why people over millennia have embraced the combination where each one complements and lifts the other, making the whole far greater than the two individual parts. Kinda like 50+50=150.
Unfortunately, that means that sometimes I miss on stocking up on wines that once opened, may not be replaceable. Like this one. Oh well.
What that means is that the past few weeks have seen me immersed neck-deep in California wine. Figuratively speaking, of course.
There was much spitting and dumping which broke my heart. Okay, so I did more dumping since I’m still uncertain about spitting in public. The dribble issue, you see.
You would have seen the devolution of a quasi-professional tasting into little more than a greedy drink-fest.
While the visit to Caesar’s was pretty horrific – in fact, I haven’t returned – the one jewel was the glass of Calera Pinot Noir which was presented to me to make up for all of the Wine Fubars they had committed.
One month later, I finally decided to taste it. Had to let it *age,* you know.
Do you think I’m going to say bad things about a well-made example of my favorite varietal? I think not.
I’ve been fortunate enough to taste a Riesling that was nearly 30 years old, and it was glorious. A deep, rich gold with flavors of honey and octane. Delicious.