Ordinarily, Pinot Gris is made into a white wine. A Pinot Gris Rosé is a different beast altogether.
However, there are a couple of white varietals that give me fits because I find that I'm always comparing them to their French counterparts.
I know this is hard to believe, but I reviewed another white wine under screwcap. No, I haven't lost my mind. Arguable, arguable. I got it.
It was comfortable enough in the shade, but the shade was rapidly retreating. Fortunately, it's a dry heat. Not unlike a blowtorch.
I would love to be able to enjoy the 98+ point wines, but no wine shops have layaway.
Whether you're visiting San Francisco, Santa Barbara, Hollywood, the OC, or San Diego, there's always something to dazzle the eyes and to spark the romantic imagination.
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.
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.