I was raised in a beer and spirits environment (North Philly isn’t exactly known for its wine culture), but when I discovered wine, I was hooked and fell madly in love.
I could actually hear my wine turning to grape jelly as I waited in that hot, smelly mess.
The cork forest sucks up CO2 which is generated in part by the plastic and aluminum refining processes. “Endocrine disrupter” is not a phrase you’ll see in relationship to cork. And there’s no such thing as a “cork spill.”
Beer lovers, after all, get to have growlers filled with their favorite beer on tap and take them home for their personal enjoyment. Why not wine folks?
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.
“It’s California,” I said to myself. “How hard could it be?” It was pretty damn challenging as it turned out. “This was a walk in the park,” said no CWAS student. Ever.
For instance, we like to “pair” our dancing with the proper music. Waltzing at a rap concert? Break dancing with Bluegrass? I think not.
I know wine. I just have to have the pieces of papers (and pins) to prove to others that I do. Master level? Well, maybe. After all, while I’m at it…
It’s not unusual to do an overnight road trip to a “Wine Country” and back over the course of a weekend. Yes, it’s so close that even a tourist to Las Vegas could take a couple of days to visit Wine Country. How great is that?
I was thinking – a dangerous thing for sure – and pondering the now storied results of the Judgment of Paris and the thirty-year anniversary rematch.
Since my years of spring chickenhood are far behind me, I decided to cap the “aging” time frame at about ten years. Seems reasonable.