Drink #24 Merlot

2.26.2012

Along the way while exploring this Adventure, I’ve come to a few surprising/interesting/odd/terrible realizations. One of them is that other than perhaps hot coffee or tea, there isn’t any non-alcoholic drinks that people just sip and/or savor.

This isn’t to say every drink is a chug-fest. But, when it comes to water, soda, milk, tea, coffee, juice, etc. you take as large of a mouthful as you’d like for each and every drink until you’re full or quenched. (I’m sure someone will say this is an American problem, but bah, I say. Bah!)

So when you’re a alcohol virgin, it’s an adjustment to learn to simply sip a drink, not just for the taste, but because that’s how the drink is experienced, savored.

Giggle if you will, but it’s an adjustment. And it’s also an important lesson, because sometimes less is more in the alcohol world. Oh sure, there are lots of suds & spirits to throw back or chug way with delight, but it’s the simpler, sipping varieties that takes some getting used to along the way.

In fact, I’m finding that some drinks you would never ever want to chug. Dear lord.

Take merlot for example.

I was not properly prepared for my firstdrink of merlot.

Another realization on the Adventure: many alcoholic drinks don’t have any real equivalent in the non-alcoholic world. Many classic foods have a core alcoholic drink flavor profile in them. So even if the general taste of bourbon is a surprise, I’ve tasted some of it’s profile in artificially flavored eggnog or various cakes. For example.

The sting of alcohol and surely drinking the “real thing” can be a shock and will unfold a vast newness to the drink, but there are enough similarities or mix-ins that keep it tied–if even slightly–to something I’ve experienced before.

But back to merlot.

Merlot is not bourbon. Its not something commonly found in food by artificial flavoring or cooking. And so, nothing could have prepared me for what this wine was going to deliver in terms of taste, sip by wincing sip.

When I smelled the wine I immediately thought “Why does this smell like the lumberyard of a Home Depot?" But, I didn’t say anything. Our friends Jordan & Courtney brought the wine for a dinner I was making for all of us that night. And they had already told me they loved this wine.

One does not simply walk into a sniff of wine and say it smells like cut wood when it’s a gift.

But it did. And then–and even after the smell I was fully unprepared–it tasted almost exactly like it smelled. As if I was drinking the thin blood of a tree.

[Do I make a Greenpeace joke? Maybe a Greenpeace meets PETA joke? How they send me death threats for drinking the blood of one of Earth’s most noble creatures, yada yada. "There are also rumors you have several wooden cutting boards, you sadist!” I’ll think about it.]

It was dry. Kinda salty, smokey, tangy and tart. It was far more oak than grape. In fact, I kept trying to locate the grape, but it was consistently whisked away by the quick, brassy finish. Did I mention it was like drinking something tapped from a tree then poured into a wooden carafe and poured from that into a wooden cup? Sprinkled with cedar chips for garnish?

I just wanted to be clear.

But wait. I didn’t hate it. No seriously. It was really interesting. I didn’t love it. But joking aside, it was a flavor I had never experienced before and it has its own allure that kept me sipping through the whole glass. It was almost devoid of fruit, but it tasted so authentic, so different.

I couldn’t help but at least be moved by it’s nature. (You see what I did there?) This merlot, by the way, was called The Velvet Devil from Charles Smith Wines, a funky, arty, minimalist winery out of Washington State.

Wine is constantly surprising me. From perfectly sweet port to toxic sauvigon blanc, wispy chardonnay to warming pinot noir, I’m constantly kept amused, delighted and sometimes shocked. I could have done this whole year on wine alone, apparently.

But too late, I’m already in love with the route I’ve chosen. The beers, mixed drinks, shots and wine alike. In their own special way, I’m loving them all (Except for you sauvigon blanc. Not you. Never you. I’m sorry.)

Cheers, Ben


PS: Next drink? #25. And if you’re keeping track, I’m going to be video blogging my 25th drink. A drink I put out a few requests for suggestions and have privately picked one. It’s one heck of a crazy drink, but that’s what has gotten me so excited. Brace yourselves, it’ll be hitting early this week.