Wine Truth: by Michael Dominic

I never watched so much of the Olympics ever before in my entire life. In fact I sometimes in the past have paid no attention to the games at all. This Olympiad, I watched it from the opening ceremony, to the close. I recorded two channels at once around the clock. When I’d come home from work I’d skim through to things that I found interesting. I would have watched it all if I could. I found myself cheering on Michael Phelps, a person I never heard of, to win gold in several categories of swimming, a sport I never watched. It’s always nice to beat the French.

I found a new tribal streak deep within myself, rooting on the USA in any sport, no matter how mundane, including badminton. Isn’t badminton is a game that you play for twenty minutes when you go to your cousins house, giving up to go inside and watch TV? It’s hardly an Olympic sport. Next thing you know they’ll let Ping Pong into the Olympics. Oh, wait…

I’m sorry I’ve not been posting as much as usual. I’ve totally gotten caught up in the Olympics. I will continue once it’s over.

I’m pleased that there is a shop of such quality near my office. Morrell makes for a pleasant diversion from my otherwise tedious work day. The weather has been perfect, in the sixties and seventies for the last several days. A slow walk north with a slightly cool breeze makes my fleeing all the more serene.

The thrice I’ve been to Morrell they always seem to have a tasting. I would have given notes on what I tried, but I don’t feel comfortable taking down information and photographing bottles in a shop where I know no one.

Friday I arrived later than usual to my regular tasting. Again I walked into a conversation. This time it was about music from the 90’s. I looked at one of the people involved, and he was my age but stuck in some rock-n-roll persona from the early 90’s. It was like he was stuck in that time of our lives when we all want to be rock stars. Most realize that it’s never going to happen and move on. Some become famous. A few get stuck in time and become parodies of themselves.

When he started quoting Pulp Fiction I tuned out.

Super Tuscans are overly popular these days. They must have had a combination of good vintages and good PR. Not that they don’t have merit, they do, but wine is like music, what’s in one minute is out the next.

Tonight I opened a cheaper “super Tuscan” the 2005 Poggio alle Querce, IL Guado ($19) from the Bolgheri region of Tucany Italy. It’s sourced from Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot varietals. I had scribbled it’s name on a card at a wine bar a few months back when I was three sheets to the wind after trying it and liking it. So I bought a bottle and shoved it in my cellar.

Walking around the East Village on Saturday with my fiancée Ting, I came across a wine shop on 1st Avenue that I had never seen before. Tinto Fino, a small narrow space that that only sells wine from Spain. The woman running the shop, I believed to be the owner, was as far from a Spaniard as possible. Blond with porcelain skin and I detected a slight mid-western accent. They do have a large selection of Spanish wine, but being that it’s only Spanish one might consider it small. I browsed the low waist high shelves.

I arrived a few minutes early for my regular Friday evening tasting at ACWC. Keith, had not yet set up whatever he was going to pour. There was a large overweight man with a bulging plastic bag. He was talking about having the second worst” fight he had ever had with his brother who had been visiting from out of town. He described his brother getting aggressive after combining Jaggermeister and his Aderol. I always lose some respect for a person that drinks Jaggermeister, like a person that likes cheap thrillers or bad rock music.