The good ol’ R&D boys down the hall have requested a change in format as tonight’s news is just too odd for my usual opening monologue.
I received a phone call recently from a woman I’ve never heard of (or cared, for that matter). She claimed to be the ex-wife, let’s call her “Pre-Sarah,” of some wine junkie who fondles cardboard boxes from a winery HQ’d in Concrete. At first, I thought she was trying to sell me hemorrhoid cream since she had a vocal accent that reminded me of pushing cannonballs through my sphincters while on the marble throne. Then, she mentioned the name of the jerkoff and it occurred to me, “She’s here to confess!” I then lumbered over to some recycled paper and began to take copious notes.
While I shall keep the jerkoff’s name camouflaged, let’s just call this schlep… “Antawn Pinhead”. Antawn, believe it or not, is male, and a cancer. His astrological sign is, oh wait, oh is that where he’s a cancer? Whatever, same difference.
Anywho, Pre-Sarah warned me what a con-artist this assclown was to her. She mentioned his lying ways and gave an example of how Antawn once posed as that closet-gay ex-Marine who gave Kevin Spacey a sloppy French kiss in the movie, “American Beauty.” Now, I was thinking, “Lady, you got turned on to him by that horrific scene???” I was then expecting her to follow-up with lewd tales of debauchery and “Viva Viagra!”, but she started to snicker and mention that Antawn frequently fronted as some filthy rich French heir with a 007-lifestyle (btw, 007 is a fictional BRITISH Secret Intelligence Service agent, hello!) but often failed to “rise” to the occasion behind closed doors. She summed it up as, “his petite grenouille (“frogger”) was also Viagra-reh-ziz-TAUNT!” For her, the final straw occurred when she woke up late one night to squeeze an uno on the potty and Antawn surprised her by trying to kiss her after he binged on a plate of limburger cheese. She retaliated by biting part of his tongue off, similar to what a Wisconsin woman recently accomplished. She ended up divorcing him for another seldom-bathing surrender-monkey.
I asked her why she called me. She wanted to come clean to my readers, many of whom are compassionate women, that they be guarded around the presence of this portly faux-Frenchman. She mentioned he recently confided in her that he was stressing over the mess he’s currently in. He admitted to her how much he hated working for the winery and “all the plonk they produce that makes my piss taste like 95 Parker points.” Further, he disclosed that he was making his own wines for his upcoming label and “stealing all the secrets of the imbécile Woodinville wineries that he helps out at.” He admitted he tasted the company’s blend of syrah, tempranillo, pinot noir, malbec, and viognier and thought it was “filtered des eaux usées (sewage).” Finally, he summed up his current gurlfriend as “she’s only good when she’s quiet and submissive.”
I pleaded with Pre-Sarah not to divulge anymore as I was about to projectile vomit all the way to the employee store. She did end her revealing conversation with a cackle over Antawn’s “underground alcoholics” club that is really a front to stroke his overinflated ego by including only the “most retarded, mineur-breasted wannabes who would fall for anything.” Sounds like a typical wine vlogger in Washington State.
To the wine.
So, to update on Alexandria Nicole Cellars… their tasting room has successfully moved to the basement of the historic Hollywood Schoolhouse in Woodinville, anchoring what is arguably the hottest new Woodinville wine district. The tasting room staff is busy serving customers, but for those who visited the former warehouse locale, one has to wonder if this really was an improvement.
First up, parking can sometimes be non-existential as the one small parking lot frequently fills with customers for the five other wineries behind the Schoolhouse, in addition to rental facilities upstairs. This was not a problem at the old site. Then, what’s up with the $10 tasting fee?? I can understand if this was Mark Ryan or Pepper Bridge/Amavi since ALL of their well-made wines ain’t cheap, but this is ANC. Don’t get me wrong, the Boyles make good wines, in addition to some ridiculously priced ones, but they are mostly “single vineyard” wines from their estate Destiny Ridge Vineyard. Still, come on! Does Gifford Hirlinger charge ten small? Zerba Cellars? Goose Ridge? Apex Cellars? Forget it. And no, I do not always buy wines at the tasting rooms, especially ones that give away $55 tempranillo to the requests of local weak wine bloggers.
Tasted at 40-50 degrees on the IR temp gun (gang, you gotta get one of these gizmos!). Color: illuminating light straw. Nose: grapefruit, orange blossoms, undergrowth, peach. Mouthfeel: peaches in light syrup. Tail trail: 5 seconds (late intensity). Flavors: pink grapefruit, citrus, peach, orange zest. Best above 49 degrees. Solid acids through and through. Food pairing was shredded, salted pork with cabbage. A superb pairing of brine, sour acids, and stone fruits.
Alcohol: 13.6% (label), 13.78% (tech sheet). 100% Destiny Ridge sau blanc (Horse Heaven Hills AVA). pH 3.24. TA 0.67%. RS 0.25% (negligible). 477 cases. Original retail: $18. Website: $14. Paid: $9.99. Value: $12. Rated: 88. Music pairing: “The Night Has A Thousand Eyes” by Bobby Vee and Johnny Mann Singers. A special dedication to “Sarah”: “Smoke Gets In Your Eyes” by the Platters. This is WAwineman…uncorked, uneducated but not uncouth.
Disclosure: as always, the above story may be of fictional origin. Any resemblance to dead or dying people is theoretically coincidental. There is a reason why I am the MOST ELECTRIFYING BLOGGER IN WINE ENTERTAINMENT TODAY! Hope you had a good laugh and remember, audience, please…this blogpost was authored by an unbiased, experienced wine blogger. Do not try this at home.