I was planning on taking a vacation from writing this column this week, and came up with a novel excuse — palate fatigue. I told the Wine Goddess I will pass on this excuse to my readers who will inevitably turn to medical journals to find out if “palate fatigue” is terminal. She laughed and said, “Well, I guess I will have to try my new discovery all alone.”
The Wine Goddess does not issue idle threats, never has in our 20 glorious years of marriage. I thought about it for a full nanosecond, wondering if I could bear the image of her using my special Rabbit corkscrew to open a newfound bottle of wine, and then watching her pour the luscious liquid in a deep-bowled Reidel glass with her steady hand. The neurons in my male brain said I could possibly endure this renegade action, although I would have to suffer the pain of sticking a hot poker in my eyes which would result in total blindness.
And just like that my palate fatigue disappeared.
Every marriage survives, I believe, from introducing a little bit of mystery into the relationship now and then.
It’s like when I come home from a shopping trip to Macy’s with a tie that she knows won’t match any dress shirt in my closet, the Wine Goddess will say to me, “Are you going to wear that with your pajamas or do I have to get you a new shirt?”
She figured me out a long time ago. It’s why I have so many ties and shirts hanging in the closet.
I hope the day never arrives when she stops solving the problem of my mystery ties, because that’s the day I will regret forever.
The Wine Goddess, on the other hand, remains a mystery to me on so many levels that I live each day trying to figure her out. She’s been feeding three feral cats in an abandoned downtown mill for eight years now. We have our own cat, Bella, but the Wine Goddess never misses a day to pass bowls of food and water through a hole in a fence to the ferals, even though she can’t touch them or pick them up because, by nature, they live in the wild and can’t be housebroken. It’s an arms-length, yet loving relationship that endures.
She also protects her precious daylillies, flowers and plants with a matriarchal dedication, checking on them every morning in the spring and summer, nurturing them to bloom perfectly in vibrant colors she has carefully selected (just like my shirts!).
So what does this have to do with wine? Nothing and everything.
When the Wine Goddess says she’s found a new and enticing beverage of the grape variety — and wants to taste it — that’s a mystery the Wine Novice wants so delightfully to be a part of, like unraveling the complex layers of a Daniel Silva spy thriller.
The mystery bottle was a 2010 J. Lohr Estates Wildflower Valdiguié, a red wine from California’s cool Central Coast in Monterey County. I had never heard of the valdiguié grape, and later my research revealed that it originates from southwest France and produces a Beaujolais-like taste.
What’s interesting — and a delight for summer red wine sippers — is that Wildflower is best served chilled, between 55 and 60 degrees. It says so on the label. It is not a sangria. The wine is dark purple and very expressive in berry fruit aromas and vibrant cherry and raspberry flavors that lead to a cool and refreshing mouthfeel. The Wine Goddess was thrilled with the smooth, full taste. I commended her for the pioneering effort, but assured her that total victory could not be achieved until she unlocked the final mystery — price. The Wine Novice insisted that anything more than $30 a bottle for Wildflower was objectionable to my bargain-basement principles and would likely bring back a severe case of palate fatigue which I was ready to endure for the rest of the afternoon, if not the next day too.
The Wine Goddess never flinched. She said, “I thought you knew me better than that. In fact, all these years I’ve paid less for your shirts than you’ve paid for your ties.” With that, she produced yet another miracle for the Wine Novice world, revealing a yellow sticker price tag of… glory be… $8.99.
Overjoyed? Ecstatic? I was overcome with pleasurable emotions. And I could not help but give thanks to God for creating the finer mysteries of life of which I consider the Wine Goddess to be one of His best.
J. Lohr’s Wildflower can be purchased at Stadium Plaza Wine & Spirits store located on Route 38 in Tewksbury.
Follow Jim Campanini on Twitter @suneditor.
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