Let me explain. We already know that not every Rosé is like sex. I mean, after all, White Zinfandel is a Rosé. I mean, technically speaking. But really. Ew.
I’m going to be 60 my next birthday. Do I want to spend a gazillion dollars for a wine that will be good enough to drink in ten or more years, possibly “peaking” in 25? Uh. No.
There were lizards, monkeys, apes (all toys, of course), backpacks, outback hats, leopard prints, khaki, and tiger stripes. The wines were from Africa and Australia. My favorite wine of the evening was a Tukulu Pinotage (2006? I didn’t take notes!) which was as smoky and luscious as any I’ve ever had. I shamelessly stole the cork.
One of the complaints I’ve received about my occasional tasting notes and/or videos is that I’m tasting wines that sometimes cannot be purchased anywhere any more. I would like to say I’m sorry, but I’m really not.
With that being said, when Issa at Khoury’s Fine Wine and Spirits showed me the four-pack of CoCoNut Porter – that’s not a typo – I hesitated only a moment before I grabbed one. What the heck. I did look askance at Issa, and he grinned and said, “it’s not sweet.”
I dunno. Something about “Hug” and “Deer” just seemed to fit. But I digress.
What was for dessert? A few Bat Nuts, of course.
I’m quite the advocate (Wine Advocate … get it?) of cooler temperatures for red wines than what we’re used to. We Americans tend to think that “room temperature” equals “warm.” Kind of how many Americans tend to think that “Chihuahua” equals “cute.”
I’m a Paso Robles Zinfandel fan, and I grabbed some popcorn as I prepared gleefully for the carnage. Paso Zins were going to kick some serious Napa butt, right? But as I read through the article – with horror, I might add – that was not to be. Not because Paso Zins were bad. They just weren’t invited to the party.
As an example, venison is now being farm-raised, and therefore, it can be presumed, grain finished. Wave good-bye to the luscious, natural wild venison flavor! Let’s go for American Bland!
The bar area is somewhat elevated from the restaurant section. There’s a huge, six-panel television behind the bar. On it was a variety of sporting events – primarily football and baseball – along with that annoying Progressive Insurance woman.
Happily, they eventually closed. Apparently, bad service – no matter how great the food – was the karma that blessed Sweet Water. In its place, however, rose STEELES, an eclectic fusion steakhouse. Whatever that means.