Those of you playing along at home last week probably noticed the attempt to hold a Twitter Taste Live event meant to coincide with the culmination of Pinot Days. The idea was to taste four California Pinot Noir wines, and (of course) ‘tweet’ about the experience of tasting them live on twitter and… ah, c’mon, do I really need to explain the TTL concept again at this point? It’s wine, on twitter, it works, and it’s taking off like mad.
The Universe had other plans that day, and the unfortunate passing of Michael Jackson (r.i.p.) nearly dragged twitter to a grinding halt and caused us to abort the scheduled formal tasting.
[ I should note at this point that I’ve nothing more to add to the multitude of tributes to MJ that have flooded the ‘global interwebs’ over the last week, except to say that he was of course a member of the Jackson 5 which automatically makes him awesome. At least, it made his childhood stardom persona totally awesome. Especially when he hit the high notes at the end of One More Chance (alllll I WANT!… All I NEEEEEEED!). That stuff is THE BOMB, baby! ]
We did manage to hold a bit of a less structured tasting of the same Pinots the following day on twitter, during which I noted that while the wines on the whole were tasty, maybe they just weren’t meant for me:
Which got me thinking… if those Pinots aren’t my style of Pinot, then what is my style of Pinot?
Those of you who aren’t interested in knowing (way) too much about 1WineDude may want to stop reading at this point. Because things are about to get a little… risqué. Maybe even odd. Maybe even oddly risqué…
You see, Pinot Noir is fundamentally a sexy wine. So it’s natural to compare it to sex (natural for me, anyway).
At it’s hedonistic best, Pinot Noir is supple, fruity, food-friendly, aromatic, silky, complex… you get the picture. And we already know that knowing your wine makes you sexier, and it’s even been suggested that Pinot Noir itself is strikingly similar to human sex pheromones. It’s not a logical stretch to conclude that knowing your Pinot, then, makes you sexiest of all. And me, well, I know my Pinot.
OK, not really. But I at least know what I don’t like in my Pinot Noir (so there’s some hope for me!). What I don’t like is Pinot that introduces itself on a bed of alcohol – that’s just comin’ on a bit too strong for me.
Back to my style of Pinot. What’s my style of Pinot?
What I mean is, I want fruit, I want silky texture, I want a captivating, emotional experience, and I want just a hint of funky: earth, mushroom, wet leaves, whatever – I want a little bit of dirt to keep things interesting and complex. Which is why the big, bad, massive Pinots just aren’t for me. It’s not that they don’t have anything to offer – they do, they just offer it all up front, all at the same time, without any mystery or with limited (or no) subtlety. And they’re afraid of keeping things a little bit dirty.
So… I’ve got a message for those big, bad Pinot Noirs: It’s just not working between us. It’s not you, it’s me.
Ok… actually, as far as I’m concerned, it is you.