Now look, I’m a man with working manparts and I just don’t understand what everyone’s deal is with us masculine-types drinking the blush. It’s good. It’s refreshing. It’s often not as acidic as a white, but certainly not as moody as some reds. On a somewhat spring-like day like today, it just puts me in the mood to frolic, so what’s wrong with that, amirite?
But I digress.
I wandered over to my neighborhood wine shop (I think it’s called De Wine Spot? That’s what the Internet tells me, anyway. Alls I know is it only says “wine” and “sake” in the window). I like this shop for its fun selection of easy-going wines. They are priced fairly and what more, they also offer spirits. The rosé I picked up was the somewhat common, easy-going Domaine de Triennes, but let me just say, it was everything I wanted.
As far as my method for tasting wine goes, I often try to be transported. I’m an escapist by nature; I know my faults, one of which is my constant need to flutter. Flutter from this book to that one, one peer group this week, another next week… That sort of thing. I can’t sit still and I like my entertainments to keep me moving.
The same goes for wine. As simple as this Triennes is, though, it has all the hallmarks of what makes a rosé from Provence. An extremely delicate nose of lavender evokes fields of the purple stuff and great blue skies. I’m no longer in grey, dingy Williamsburg but someplace idyllic, pastoral. The dry nose makes way for the slightest touch of red berry fruit on the palate, bing cherry but riper, less acidic. I’m out of here, already on the next flight to what is probably considered the boonies by the French but to my ignorant ass is the setting for my soon-to-be-a-bestseller memoir where I pack my bags, lookin’ for love and wine around the world… I think I’ll call it “Whine, wine, win: How I Found Love At the Bottom of A Bottle. In France. And Made a Shit-ton of Money On the Movie Deal and Rubbed it in Y’alls Faces.”
Yes, that sounds about right.
In truth, the Triennes is a nice wine, but it simple. It is straight-forward. Today, of all days, it took me out of myself long enough to realize I need to slow down a bit, enjoy those moments of slow brain activity and maybe breathe a little bit. And yes, all of this is possible in a glass of wine, no matter how simple. You just have to taste it and be open to what the juice has to offer. In this case, I’ve got a memoir I need to to draft.