13th
a tale of two tastings…
i just returned from a lovely weekend in door county — the cape cod of the midwest. wisconsin’s peninsula is filled with big money, big yachts, fancy boating shoes and — at least for a day — one really thirsty mulleted american looking for free wine tastings.
the county is dotted with many wineries. i chose two of them for my mission… one that was a bit more high end by reputation and another that featured a large cherry with arms and legs and an american flag waving at passing traffic.
let’s start with the first winery…
——-
i walk into the lobby. there are lots of fancy people in khakis and aforementioned boat shoes milling around. they are talking about and smelling wine. some of them are also smelling each other. i made that last part up. but i bet they want to.
i am wearing shades and an orange freedom shirt. sans sleeves.
‘can i help you?’ a woman who looks official asks.
‘i’m here for the free tasting,’ i fire back and smile playfully.
‘our tasting is not free. it costs $5 and you get to keep the glass’
i angrily pull a soggy five out of my shorts and hand it across the counter.
‘what would you like to start with?’ she shows me a list with about 30 of their wines on it.
‘which is the most rockin’ one?’ i ask casually.
‘most rockin?’ she looks confused.
‘yeah… a good rockin’ sweet one…’ i peer at her over my glasses.
‘a rockin sweet one, huh?’ she suggests a riesling.
i point to the merlot.
‘i’ll try the merlot’ (deliberately mispronounced ‘mer-lott’)
‘that’s not very sweet…’ she’s losing patience.
‘i like the name.’ i cut her off and smile at some other tasters to my right.
i try the merlot. i make a face and tell her it tastes kinda weird. ‘like rotten grape juice or something…’ it continues like this. more big reds. more butchered pronunciations. me complaining about the wines and asking if they have something more like blue raspberry boone’s farm. i tell her i want to pair it with a brat.
one sample left. i decide to finish with port. she tells me i will like the sweeter notes. i slam the small splash she pours and ask the woman to my right if she has tried the ‘zinFANdel’ port yet. she doesn’t respond. i belch and leave the winery without buying anything.
outside i toss my glass into a wastebasket right next to a sign that reads, ‘grapes are for wines, cherries are for pie… if you’re looking for cherry wine you’ve come to the wrong place’
i’ll say.
——-
winery number two was much more my speed. instead of old grapes, the wines there tasted like kool aid with a nice kick. and they had way better flavors with fun names like ‘sunset splash,’ ‘mad about mango’ and ‘razzle dazzle raspberry’… i loved it!
and the best part? free tasting. unlimited samples.
i stood there taking rip after rip, happy as a clam and glad to see i wasn’t the only one wearing a shirt with no sleeves.
i guess now we know which winery on the so-called ‘pleasure peninsula’ is more interested in fostering a culture of hospitality toward mulleted americans, don’t we?
-BIFPIB-
