Tag: WBC16

Tasting · Travel

Souzãoberry Fields Forever: hang time with Portuguese grapes in Lodi

Posted on by Josh

Of the mad scientist-viticulturist laboratory that is Lodi, California, we’ve touched upon southern French varieties; grapes classically grown in cooler areas of Europe like Germany and Austria; and Lodian odes to Spanish wines. We reached the part of the conference where we would end up on one of twenty-or-so different excursions – and to complete the circle of a trip, or at least extend the semi-circle or whatever – I eventually decided to go on the excursion that hinted at a visit to a winery with a heavy lean towards Portuguese grape varieties.

What the fuck is Souzão, anyways? Let’s whip out a tome and read the following paragraph in our Jancis voices. (She is, by the way, in the running for being my Snatch Game impression if I’m ever on RuPaul’s Drag Race.)… read more

Tasting · Travel

I’ll be your Zin-ner in secret

Posted on by Josh

First of all, Carly Slay Jepsen’s Emotion: Side B. Better than the original album? Is this reference still relevant? How long will it take my roommate to notice I’m drinking all of his gin? Should I pair these wines with a pathetic recollection of that time I actually met Carly Rae Jepsen at a Marianas Trench concert while interning for their record company? These are the questions I want answered vaguely by fortune cookies and clairvoyant wine pairings.

(Also, thanks to this post, the beginning of Run Away With Me starts playing every time I sip Zinfandel, which… honestly should help in blind tastings anyways?)

The idiotic association: Zinfandel is a chancy variety whose grape bunches ripen at different speeds, such that you might have a bunch containing all of unripe, ripe, and dried berries.… read more

Tasting · Travel

Getting drunk-ish with Bokisch

Posted on by Josh

Upon a first visit to the area, I’m not surprised that Lodi’s land is as flat as my love life oft is, because, perhaps unfairly, I expected the mainstream homeland of Zinfandel to be just that. Zing.

For real, though: we arrive at Bokisch, which from what I remember at the time, had more slopes than I remember in all of Lodi – and then a big oak tree located in the middle of some vineyards that was so prominent that “giant oak” was literally listed in our prepared itinerary, under which we would have a lunch, themed northeastern Spain. Barcelona flashbacks. There may have been a flying wine camera drone but anything could’ve happened at this point.

Like our lunch, the wines of Bokisch focus on Spanish grape varieties – another spellbinding sector of Lodi’s experimental temperament, like the German grape varieties grown in Lodi that we had tried earlier.… read more

Tasting · Travel

My neck, my Bacchus

Posted on by Josh

Most of the wine people I know got into its magical world after tasting some kind of superlative bottle that made them orgasm right into the industry. Like, we get it: you had a teaspoon of 1982 Bordeaux and wept. I literally had canned cranberry sauce with a corner store sandwich just a few weeks ago that was so good that it made me re-evaluate my life, so I guess I understand you.

myneckmyback

As much as I say that Marechal Foch is better as a drag name than it is a wine grape, and that most Canadian Cabernet Sauvignon is best used to remove dead skin off the soles of your feet, I absolutely live for the weird unorthodox shit. After waking up at 4AM to pick Viognier at Michael David winery, we arrive at the Mokelumne Glen vineyard, where 48 different German and Austrian wine grape varieties (clones included in this number) are grown. … read more

Tasting · Travel

Getting Harney in Lodi

Posted on by Josh

After the magic that was Acquiesce (everything’s magic after ingesting wine but the wines were good), our pre-excursion group meandered to the Lizzy James vineyard, sipped some Zin, and then went to Harney Lane winery. I remember how distracted I get in vineyards, simultaneously trying to soak in all the personal stories and vineyard information while trying to find refuge for my naked round head. Sunscreen’s a no-no since it fucks with everyone’s nasal cavity, and so is eucalypt-scented shaving cream, where in specific cases I’ve made people sniff my fresh head at tastings just to make sure I’ve done no sin. I attempted to kneel behind someone’s outrageously large clown hat.

My “I’m actually here!” montage lasted longer during my first year at the WBC, and gets cut off more brusquely every year, but thankfully our welcoming visit at Harney Lane extends the honeymoon phase and we all share some rosé, some unfermented Albariño juice, and then lovely dinner where I catch up with old friends and make some new ones.… read more

Tasting · Travel

The time has come for you to lip-sting for… your… life.

Posted on by Josh

I imagine that the Venn diagram representing the overlapping sets of people who are familiar with Picpoul and people who watch RuPaul’s Drag Race is smaller than those who drink Prosecco and watch the Bachelor, but if you happen to find yourself in the middle of this precious diagram, we need to be best friends immediately. One half of said diagram would be able to tell you that Picpoul is the southern French grape that can release lemony power and body, and therefore purportedly translates to “lip-stinger”; the other half of the diagram would be able to tell you that the premiere to RuPaul’s Drag Race All Stars season 2 was amazing.

I did not drink Picpoul that night but instead watched the episode at a bar in the Castro hosted by season 5’s Honey Mahogany.… read more

Tasting

It must have been clove, but it’s over now: Speed Wine Tasting at WBC16

Posted on by Josh

I used to love the hectic clusterfuck of the two Wine Bloggers Conference speed tasting events, each involving twenty or so different tables and winery principals that rotate tables every five minutes for a total of ten sessions. Every micro-meeting involves at least a pour of a wine followed by a spiel, while we each have to: absorb as much information as we can; taste and take notes; desperately yell out questions as if the internet doesn’t exist; take blurry bottle shots; and perhaps come up with a witty tweet.

I’ve mostly given up on giving my 110% on the whole shebang, but hey: I tried. Newcomers to the conference were all “well, this isn’t so bad!” I side-eyed in tacit protest but actually mostly agreed.… read more