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.
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.
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.
Do you think I’m going to say bad things about a well-made example of my favorite varietal? I think not.
As I noted earlier, I didn’t need something from the I-Can’t-Believe-I-Spent-That-Much-For-A-Bottle-Of-Wine cooler. So the Hahn Pinot fit the bill perfectly.
It’s Saturday night, and I’ve spent the last several hours visiting my mother in the hospital (she’s doing fine, by the way. Flirting with the young single male help. She’s 90 and disappointed that they won’t flirt back), and talking to the Wineaux Guy.
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.
I needed a Rosé that acted like it was older than a high-school coed, with personality, charm, and strength. A grownup.
And since I was in the mood for a Rosé, I grabbed one of my bottles of 2009 Hug Cellars xoxo Rosé. Hugs and Kisses. Get it?
The first two bottles were great, don’t get me wrong. This one (time to rest? bottle variation? planet alignment? full moon? sun spots?) was absolutely outstanding, and I stretched that bottle out over two nights. It lost almost nothing the second evening.