Fatty Boom Boom

The past few months have been loaded with a lot of abrupt change in schedules, demeanors, moods, and anxiety. Thanks you Washington Capitals for that. I really haven’t opened a bottle of wine in such a long time. Fat bottle cheap whisky or rum has really been the elixir of choice. Despite fielding dozens of phone calls from irate sales reps, rainy weather, and nagging pain in my lower back, I wasn’t going to let me day off go to waste. Menu planning was my main focus.

After too many trips to fast food joints, a respectable meal is desperately needed. Think cheese plate with grape tomatoes, aged cheddar, bacon jam, and toasty bread. Think our household comfort food, spanakopita. Think slow and low red wine braised short ribs over rice with pan gravy. The kitchen smells immaculate.

Big Fat Syrah wanted: Must be bold, brood, with a smirking rock n’ roll attitude. Strong Legs are a must, because the job requires heavy lifting. Experience is preferred.

Charles Smith Boom Boom Syrah, Columbia Valley, Washington State. You are hired.

Shut up, you suck as a sous chef...

There are times when you realize how awesome your friends are.
They have the balls to tell you how shitty of a sous chef you actually are.

I took the bus down from NYC to DC to visit the one and only NMFB last week. It was a much needed vacation, if only for a couple days. There are some people in life who can really make you feel happy. NMFB is one of them. So is his wife, so are his dogs. (NOTE: if you visit, they'll lend you a dog to sleep in your bed. Best hospitality ever.)

We started our adventure off with a taste of zinfandel a friend of mine made. In Jersey. As his first wine. Ever.
You know when you pop open a bottle of wine that you've been waiting to try, with the trained tastebuds of a professional? You know, when you think you might've stumbled onto something great?

I was not that man. NMFB looked on while I guinea pigged a taste of what could only be described as rotten five-alive with a hint of armpit. It wasn't gut-wrenching, but it definitely required a gargle of whiskey to wash it down. Ahwell. I kinda knew it was coming.

Beer, hot dogs and Taco Bell followed, because we're classy gentlemen, and I fell asleep finally content. With an acute case of heartburn, and a Chihuahua in my bed. Curled up and content.

Days like that, you just have to breathe a mighty breath and thank your little sisters for introducing you to what you have come to know as a brother.

Life's pretty cool, you know?

Owen Roe Sinister Hand 2009

“The story goes like this-Long ago, during the 17th century, the O’Neills and O’Reillys were two revolutionary Irish families. They formed a rowing competition to reserve rights to some highly regarded land. The two rowing teams agreed that the first to touch the land, after rowing across the lake, would become ruler of the land. O’Neill’s boat was falling behind so a member of the crew grabbed his own sword, cut off his hand and threw it ashore, winning the title to rule the land. This land still remains in the family.”  

The Owen Roe Sinister Hand was created in celebration of the event described above. Made from grapes grown in the Columbia Valley of Washington State, this is a blend reminiscent of the great Chateaunuef-du-papes of France. It is 70% Grenache, 26% Syrah, 2% Mourvedre, and 2% Counoise.  

As I mill around my kitchen, where I spend most of my time at home, I decided to make surf n’ turf for dinner. A prosciutto wrapped tenderloin, wild caught shrimp, Yukon gold potatoes, with a red wine reduction pan sauce. The Sinister Hand would make a great pairing for dinner. Sinister Hand has deep aromas of stewed red cherries, sweet plums, graphite, and frosted flakes cereal. I know that’s a weird one, but my honker is picking up frosted flakes! The balance is quite pleasant. The tannins are medium-low and the acid is about the same. Honestly, this wine does not need to be paired with food, it would be just great on its own. It has gone rather quickly and without cause, too bad it was my last bottle.  

Chateau Angelus 2000

I understand as a first post, this wine may be making a bold statement about my habits, status, or may even seem smug, but I assure you that isn't the case.

This wine is a treat I bought myself nearly five years as congratulations on a new job. It was the most I have ever spent on a single and still is to this day. Yet, the 2000 vintage of Angelus was a wine I had read so much about and simply had to have. I mean, it is the wine of James Bond for crying out loud. I always have had a running debate about when would be a great time to open it. Maybe I would open in on my 30th or 40th birthday, my wedding day, by myself on a lonely rainy day. No time just ever felt right. About a month ago it hit me. I knew I was going to be making a trip up north to my parents and wanted to share it with the one person who inspired me to even proceed and go far in this business, my father. It is bittersweet, because as much of an awesome dude that he is, he was struck with a gnarly illness and opening this bottle now felt appropriate. I'll spare you the details of the setting, but the wine was truly all it was cracked up to be. After receiving extremely high ratings across the board and grown in an incredible year, this did not disappoint.

The wine was decanted about an hour before we even took a sip and the potency of it filled the kitchen whole. It was loaded with gobs of dark, dark fruits, herbs de Provence, old leathery aromas. The tastes were almost too much to describe and had a distinct undertone of olive, black cherry, plum, and sage. It was huge and was balanced nicely with tannins and acid.

I was able to drink an awesome wine with an awesome dude, but in the end, it could have just been a coke and I would have been happy.