Cul de Cuvée: Love is in the shipping costs
The recently-random bits.
February (much like January) may be that month when movie studios release their straight-to-streaming movies that may or may not star Steven Seagal. But, more important than obscuring horrid films (Downhill, Jan-Gel 2: The Beast Returns, Daredevil 2003), this is the amazing month of ‘love’ that’s no better adored cashed-in on than with Valentine’s Day. So, we at the CdC HQ, along with our phalanx of unpaid interns, would like to remind you that, whether showing love in a self, couple, or poly kind of way, here’s an indispensable guide to wine for Valentine’s Day.
Our Department of TMI would like to let you know that while we’re talking about love, have you heard about ‘Penisgate’? If not, prepare yourself for a male genitalia modification deep dive at an Olympic level. Competitive injections were never, ever so serious and/or not-wanted to be known about.
Maybe this V-Day, you’re feeling a little splashy and wanna drink something old that's not an Official Kurniawan Copy? Well, unfortunately you, the big spenders of wine, missed out when this 127 year-old Romanée-Conti (current vintages are usually only in the mid-20s [000]) was cracked for a select few whose sparse words spoke to the sparse flavors, albeit in a very special manner reserved for drinking old-ass wine that you have to pretend to love when you just want a nice, ripe Syrah.
In our sister publication, “White People Ruin Everything,” they’ve featured a bit of Somm Rap, because this is what the world has come to and you all know that you're very much responsible in some way or another. The only solution? Keep drinkin’ wine.
In this lengthy piece, we’re left wondering, how much man has met machine in that there are those convinced it’s completely AI and others that it’s just “mostly AI,” a flavor we’re probably going to have a lot more of in the future, like coconut-butterscotch ice cream which is heavily disliked by CdC HQ minus that one intern we’ll be doing away with in due course as he was drinking too much ‘free’ coffee anyways.
Apparently “Bar Panisse” in Berkeley, California is swamped after opening just two months ago. For those people who thought paying for four figs on a plate with a single shaving of Parmesan embraced by all the discomfort of a bar setting was ‘stupid’, guess who’s stupid now?!
From our Boring AF Bureau comes a PowerPoint on the shipping wine. They did it boring style, but Tablas Creek has really broken it down exceedingly well by scraping off the bullshit and giving us all the finest layer cream possible when it comes to info on movin’ wine around the world.
Bordeaux adapts to using the term, ‘claret.’ In a related story, the Greatgrandfathers of WWII Association stopped to ask if it was “still okay to say ‘negro’” in an email after they’d already clicked send. Love live the claret!
A sizzling item from the Red Meat Desk is that it appears Kirin, the Japanese owner of ‘Merican Bourbon company, Four Roses has now sold it off. Those who find beauty in the ever-changing rainbow of tariffs will probably find this to be good news, but, while it’s now American owned, the re-owner is mega-wine producer, Gallo.
It was inevitable in that when Tesla types build things for farm types, it's just not going to end up well. Farewell fine Monarch Tractors, may you flutter off to other, finer pastures where your ‘AI’ might actually work.
In the stages of white wine, it all starts out quite civilized, pleasant even, as “we’re sippin’.” And then, all white hell breaks loose and we swear that’s never happening again, until of course...
Until we meet again, up in the cul of the cuvée.