Baby, it’s cold outside! When the mercury starts to dip, we are naturally more inclined to heartier, warming reds. You know: chewy Malbecs, bone-warming Cabs, spicy Tempranillos. But what if you prefer white wine? Vino blanco gets a bad rap during winter months. “It’s for spring,” you say? Bah! Sipping chilled white (especially from a traditionally cooler-climate country like Germany, or Alsace in France) on a cold day might seem counter-intuitive, but many whites are perfectly in sync with the richer, stick-to-your-ribs fare prepared this time of year. Whether you’re pairing it with a hearty stew or just want to snuggle up to a movie on a Tuesday, here are some winter whites that may just stave off SAD.
The hardest thing about working in a wine shop is the fight with the Tasmanian devil of craving. I’m by no means an alcoholic (lest my incessant Instagram posts have you believe otherwise) but so many fun, geeky wines come through the shop that it’s all I can do to not grab a bottle, make myself comfortable and pop that cork.
Put down that beer! Yes, brewskies and BBQ are classic, but let’s go for something a little off-beat here. Whether you love your meat smoked or grilled, rubbed or sauced, sweet or spicy, wine can always be paired with that BBQ you’ve painstakingly perfected. Here are some tips for enjoying those juicy ribs and sizzling steaks:
It’s few and far between that any wine leaves a bad taste in my mouth, especially when it’s something as delicious as this Can Feixes, from Spain. But when you get, you know, scorned or something by no less than *ahem* a priest, well, bad taste is all you have left. (Disclaimer: he was Episcopalian and in seminary, but still, how funny is it to call him a priest? Pretty damn funny, so just go with it.) Basically, I met a dude on the Internet. You know, the same old story: boy gets lonely, boy goes online, boy messages other boy-who-would-be-priest, boy-who-would-be-priest says “sure, let’s go out.” And lo and behold, we had a great first date! Neither of us was creepy (apparently. At least, he wasn’t; can’t say much for myself), there were no majorly awkward silences and if I can be so bold, conversation was stellar. Hell, we even shared some key lime pie. Key lime fucking pie. Call Nora Ephron now, damn it!