Life · Tasting · Travel

On Tokyo, Central Italy, and Miss Vanjie

I wish I could insert a montage of video clips here, combining all the clusterfucks and thrills of the past few months, but written description will have to do. Also, apologizing for a lack of posts is a tired cliché of the peak LiveJournal era, so I won’t do it. Oh, to be 13 again.

Imagine leading a tasting on Japanese whiskies – in Tokyo!

But also, imagine being so disorganized that you plan your Tokyo activities while waiting to board the plane, get lost from hopping on the wrong train from the airport, and have the police yell at your conference’s group in Japanese as we wrestled and tackled each other in Ginza. At some point in the week, you meet up with a Frenchman who tells you a story about the Japanese boyfriend that he keeps secret from his wife and kids, but is still lonely enough to crave your company: he doesn’t say it, but even as we overlook the city, he feels a claustrophobia about Tokyo that’s temporarily soothed by our sashimi and Bordeaux barrel-aged Japanese whisky.… read more

Tasting

Amarone in the streets, Recioto in the sheets, Raboso if you cancel on me.

I can now cross Utah off the list of places I’ve been, y’all. Apparently the aggressive snowfall stopped for the 24 hours a colleague and I went to Park City for a work thing, so the snowy mountains were a nice distraction from the frigid air I sometimes despise. Anyways, I got sick when I got back, because the elevations of Park City actually can allegedly fuck you up. I didn’t believe our driver from the airport, but there you go.

I always recall a particular Veneto 2014 wine sesh (damn, was it 2014?!) where we did the typical run of Veneto wines along with a wine made from the relatively obscure Raboso grape, which basically means “angry” – maybe due to its big tannic bite.… read more

Tasting

Valtellina, this is a lip sync for your life we need to see your lips

As a west coast Canadian native, it slightly hurt to miss the GuildSomm seminar on Ontario wines after having snagged a ticket to slightly make up for missing last year’s Canada-themed Vancouver International Wine Festival. I also missed the first half of the Lombardia and Emilia-Romagna seminar for this week’s Italian Wine Scholar class because of things. I’m missing some marks, y’all. I didn’t get to cry my tears of Canadian Riesling, but I did get to cry tears of Lambrusco. I’m also not afraid of disrupting the middle of class to pour myself a glass of Franciacorta. Bitch, I paid for this course. Give me that fuckin’ yeast.

The week also involved a day of packing and moving to a new apartment.… read more

Tasting

Verdicchi-oh no she betta don’t

Two of my goals for this week were to type up the following tasting notes on the Lugana DOC tasting from the 2017 Wine Bloggers Conference and to also prepare for the first portion of the Italian Wine Scholar course next week. It’s dawned on me that the first month of 2018 hasn’t even ended yet and I’ve become that cliché of a bright-eyed person entering the New Year, biting off more than he could chew. Bitch, or not: I’ve got a bottle of wine and an empty Sunday. Let’s do this.

I’m still going solidly on my book-reading goals for this year though, and for some reason I decided book #3 was literally going to be a fucking textbook on whisky.… read more

Tasting

Swiping left and right on flavour profiles, 2017 edition

Fourth year at the Wine Bloggers Conference and I still haven’t tapped out of the speed blogging portion, you guys! The chaos was unbeknownst to me during my first year in 2014 and I was confused why people chose to skip the session and eat fries at the neighbouring restaurant instead.

The rules to this WBC mainstay are simple: the wine representative has five minutes to pour you wine and talk about it. At the same time – and if you’re playing the game to its fullest – one takes notes, snaps photos, and maybe thinks of something witty about the wine to tweet in that moment. There are ten rounds in total. Speed dating! If this is Tinder for wines, is there a Grindr for wines?… read more

Tasting

12 other white Italian grapes for when you’re over Pinot Grigio

It’s clear that we’ve taken a departure from the experimental seminars of 2015’s Australia to the tacit themes of longevity and traditionalism of 2016’s theme of Italy for the Vancouver International Wine Festival. It’s expected that the colossal tasting room is skewed towards the stars of Tuscany, Piedmont, and Veneto, so this leaves the underdogs few and far between. There is not one Dolcetto (yeah I know: who cares) nor one pearl-clutching Franciacorta being poured during the whole festival, nor are there enough Montepulciano for me to make a terrible d’Ab(ruzzo) joke, so last year’s boner for Australian Touriga Nacional would have to be partially satiated by a seminar on all things white and distinctively not Pinot Grigio. I often find the whites of Italy frustratingly subtle – which probably says more about my taste above anything else – but this’ll be a nice opportunity to break things down past this pigeonhole.… read more

Life · Quaffing · Tasting

2015 ends and 2016 trends

I’m a bit late to this #bye2015hello2016 stuff! Anyways, I’ve said it way too many times than you care to read: I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions. But this is the first year where reflecting and looking forward to the next year has felt the least forced. Despite my abrupt and perhaps ephemeral positivity, I won’t be superimposing any fortune cookie pieces of advice onto filtered landscapes anytime soon – March seems to be my I-fucking-hate-everything downfall month anyway, so we’ll see how much my outlook relapses.

joshlikeswine2015

At the beginning of 2015, I made the tongue-in-cheek resolution to be a bit more selfish: to not to be guilt-ridden about having a balanced serving of things that make me happy and to give less of a shit about what other people think.… read more

Quaffing

Tonight’s vote-watch wine: La Monacesca 2012 Verdicchio di Matelica

Today (Nov. 15) was the municipal election in Vancouver. I had to work in the morning, so I had the option of heading to the polling station either before or after work. I decided that the former option was better, so I arrived shortly after the nearby polling station was open. Though I spotted a roll of “I voted!” stickers, I was for some reason not offered one, and then I remembered that it was 8AM on a Saturday morning and I probably looked like a troll who was able to make high heel shoe-esque sounds with ratty sneakers that boomed throughout the solemn elementary school gym. I was given shifty looks, as if the workers were definitely sure I was going to write “penis” 300 times all over the ballot.… read more