- search results
If you're not happy with the results, please do another search
Just to be clear, the Zins were red, not the “White” Zins so common in the supermarkets. In general, "White Zinfandel" is simply a Rosé that has not been fermented to dryness.
Personally, I have a hard time with Cabernet Sauvignon and Malbec because they are real bruisers. Unless, of course, there's a candlelit, air-conditioned romantic dinner involved...
I looked at the large tumbler filled with ice cubes and White Zinfandel fresh out of the box. It was topped with a colorful bendy straw. I sighed. Surely there had to be more to wine than this.
And then for some reason, tiny insects decided that they just had to commit suicide on my freshly painted doors. Besides tweezing their little carcasses from the paint, there was even more razoring, sanding and repainting!
While once the wines were big, jammy, fruit-forward, and alcoholic, they now have added layers of complexity and maturity which was almost unheard of a decade ago.
It's an end of one era, but the beginning of something just as great.
I didn't realize when I purchased the 2011 Plungerhead Zin a few weeks ago that it was made by The Other Guys, whose mission, it seems, is to make good wines at everyman prices.
I've spent some time reading the varying opinions of winemakers, wine growers, bloggers, columnists, ad nauseum, and finally decided to jump into the fray myself.
Jocularity and minds-in-the-gutter snickering aside, I want to talk about my first time with specific types and varietals of wines and the impact that they made on my wine-loving experience.
On the nose I detected a whiff of watermelon interspersed with strawberries and beach. Yeah, beach. Think northern California beach, early morning, breezy and cool. Just a whiff of *that.*