Friday, April 01, 2005
I walked into my favorite restaurant with a bag of wine to pitch. The GM/wine-guy was in the back so I poured a glass of Charolette Street Chardonnay and walked into the kitchen. (I poured myself a glass which you can always assume). He smelled it, swirled it, smelled it again and said, "Western Aussie Chard?" What? Holy Shit. This is a slamming glass of white. A perfect chard for a wide range of food because of its lack of oak and crisp, clean finish. And yes its from Margarte River in Western Australia. He tasted it and continued, "What's it 12 bucks?" It is only $8 cost. I now have a new glass pour but who cares about that. I felt like looking around and saying, "Did anyone just see that?" It's why I am in the business, its why I love wine, its what I aspire to be able to do. FREAK.
I walked into my favorite restaurant with a bag of wine to pitch. I poured a glass of Charolette Street Chardonnay for the general manager/wine guy and walked into the kitchen with it. (I poured one for me as well. You can always assume that that is the case). He smelled it, swirled it, smelled it again and said, "Western Australian Chard." What. He then tasted it and said, "Margaret River Chard. Nice. 12 bucks?" I said it was only $8 and I had a new glass pour. Who cares about that. This guy just smelled a wine and told me exactly where it was from. Its what I aspire to, its why I'm in the business, its why I love wine. FREAK.