A Touch Of RefreshmentI used to live near the Ocean, or at least near enough for it to count. I live near rivers now. I seem to often find myself near streams, ponds, lakes. Water is a precious thing, and I have become ever more aware of just how much we depend on it. I do not wish to discuss the more alarming elements of our relationship with water (although that is certainly a topic for focus). Rather: drinks.
From southern France, Thierry & Guy have brought us a very spiky Shiraz. It was a deeply purple, and strong stuff. Not a bad wine. By far the best part: they have taken to naming the thing "Fat Bastard". At the checkout line in the state store, we must of said that ten or more times, and so did everyone else. As we stepped away and through the door to go, the gentleman behind the counter called to us. "Enjoy your Fat Bastard!" he said.
I have seen on many occasions bottles of Malta Goya in the supermarket, but never with the other drinks. I did not know what it was, and I've never seen any bottles missing from the shelf where they are kept. I bought one, which was interesting in itself, because the register (new-fangled, computerized, and sullen yellow-on-blue) expected the cashier to card me for its purchase. This confused us both; I don't think either of us were aware that there were any beverages in the grocery store that required ID. I think we both pretty much assumed that that sort of thing was frowned upon by law in this, the Keystone state. But business was slow, and we got a surprise out of it, and that was fine. We took it home and tried it. It really is malt soda; a bit thick on the tongue and sweet, too sweet. It was nice, and nicer cold, and we were all terribly intrigued and confused right up until someone pointed out that it was a lot like drinking Grape Nuts. And then we stopped drinking it.
A very long time ago, a good friend came out from the other coast and bought us a bottle of Pinot Gris from a place they call Valley of the Moon, in Sanoma county. That was most likely (for a variety of reasons) just about the best bottle of wine we've ever drank. I will invoke the Fielding clause here to mention that, if anything, I've gotten better at strawberry shortcake. The wine: the wine was wonderful. I will not describe it, for the memory is probably now more hope than fact. I note it now, because it is a good memory and worth keeping, but also because Valley of the Moon products have begun to show up in our area. The available Pinot Blanc on the state store shelves is pretty good.
Out tap water is pretty good; we keep sport bottles of it in the fridge.
All content under copyright by the author. Dancing is permitted. The strange deltic glyphs in the sand under tidal flow are a pleasure to watch in their deepening. Offer not valid in Kansas. We put it down and then we lost it. It all happens in the corner of the eye. Commentary accepted at comment@goob.com, although the traps are agressive and the pointy bits simply drip with dark liquour. We have a dog, but we do not own it. Thank you.