It’s like a Friday night. Now that I am back to a regular schedule, I can rely on my inner instincts during the week. A glass of 2008 Bouchaine Chardonnay sits on the ‘60s inspired side table next to my chair, Rheagan is sleeping, and I am watching yet another high quality film. I don’t know why I have been so obsessed with Northern California lately. Bottleshock last week, and then a taste of Oz & James this past weekend. Now I am watching Sideways. I love Paul Giamatti, and I have so much more appreciation for the movie now that I know a little more about wine. I haven’t watched it in forever, and it has dawned on me that I bought it out of trendiness, long before I met my sommelier. Since then, I have been rightfully schooled in the winemaking process, and in the taste.
I was nervous to try the Bouchaine. Every time I remember drinking chardonnay, it has been laden with oaks, heavy, or buttery. I remember when I used to drink Clos Du Bois and think I was something special; although it went well with lobster, I tired of the taste. I have avoided all chardonnay since. I like the Bouichane, though. It’s light and acidic. With hints of lemon and apple, it blended well with my zesty arugula. I do have to give the sommelier credit. He knows I hate chardonnay, yet he brought home a clear, honey colored vintage that makes me change my mind. I will now add this particular wine to my list of sauvignon blancs, chenin blancs, voigners, and rieslings.
Dinner was a success. I chopped up some ripe watermelon, halved cherry tomatoes, and paired them with arugula, baby spring greens, and goat cheese. A steak rounded out my meal. A gleaming success, I must say. I can’t remember the last time I had steak, maybe a month. Here in Texas, in the midst of grilling season, that time period is unthinkable. However, the wine complemented the greens and watermelon perfectly, and I just happened to stumble upon it. Goes to show, you should always rely on your instincts.
her in this vintage red summer thing, so cute and poignant. Still too big. Alas, I have resorted to all the pink dresses. I try to mash it up with fabulous jumpers, in bright green polka dot and soft purple haze. I think she had a good time. We watched the other kids, she played on the tummy time mat, and she got to swing. I found myself wondering what kind of mommy I will become. Will I be the one who walks across the room, takes away the cupcake, wipes off the frosting, and then gives the cake back to my Rhea? Or, will I be the mother who has to scrub green frosting off of her fingernails? Maybe if I know where the cupcakes are from, or if I made the cupcakes, it would make a difference? These are seriously the things I think about.