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blackjack double down syrah 2020 If I were a rich man, Ya ha deedle deedle, bubba bubba deedle deedle dum.
All day long I'd biddy biddy bum.
If I were a wealthy man.
Off to buy Powerball ticket.
Shall I get one for the two of us?
I feel like such a sucker.
But we might as well enjoy the fantasy until tomorrow.
Hypothetical money is the root of much speculation.
I was staying with my family in southern Wisconsin, and the Madison TV station my parents watch did Powerball stories for three days straight.
Predictable bits: How much will the taxes be?
Tweet it to the station.
And, oh yeah, Wisconsin Gov.
Scott Walker hints at running for a third term.
The Wall Street Journal created that visually depicted the odds of winning: one tiny pixel at the end of many, many scrolling pages of tiny, tiny specks.
I texted the numbers for this shared ticket to my friend.
I was not the only person to equate lottery winnings to expensive wine acquisition, turns out.
The chimed in with their fondest wine wishes, all of which seem to involve wine from France.
I would build a marvelous climate-controlled wine cellar and enhance my modest collection with some remarkable bottles.
But why stop there?
With this much money, why not buy a winery in the heart of beautiful Sonoma County?
I would walk the green fields, helping to prune the vines, enjoying morning barrel tastings and hosting blending parties with my friends.
My sprawling Xanadu would have many guest rooms, a huge kitchen, fireplaces, custom tile and an eclectic art collection featuring the works of artists from the center of my universe—you know, California and Nevada.
In fact, to heck with those schmancy French wines.
Let the editors of Wine Spectator compete for Euro-wine-hipster cred.
I love the wines of here.
Barberas from the Sierra foothills.
Paso Robles GSMs and cabernet sauvignon from the vineyards near St.
As it turns out, I already possess many of yummy bottles of the above.
Actually 
 pruning grapes?
Hanging out with wine geniuses?
None of that is out of reach now, to be honest.
Life is pretty good, even if the Australian malbec is meh.
Only a couple of lottery winners have gone belly up or worse.
But financial security certainly contributes to life satisfaction.
I like to tell myself that—if I win, I would be smart about spending.
My first monied moves would not likely involve wine, other than indulging in a celebratory bottle of one of my keeper cabernet sauvignons, like Markham Vineyards 2010 The Altruist, a remarkable birthday gift.
By the time Jan.
I hypothesized that I would take the lump sum payout if I won.
I would invest in varied ways, spending earnings, not touching the principal.
And buy a food truck for my entrepreneurial offspring and a car that runs for my daughter-in-law.
Everyone would go to the dentist.
If I were a rich woman, I would join many wine clubs.
My odds are better with single-deck blackjack.
This is a fine way to start a quirky Humboldt County wine-tasting tour.
The winery is remote—in the Six Rivers National Forest, not far from the bustling unincorporated community of Orleans, which is 12 miles east of Weitchpec.
This area is better known for crops other than wine.
The Coates Winery is a 12.
About 15 wineries are listed as members on a website.
Several more listed as nonmembers.
Coates is one of the latter.
This is northern Northern California.
The Troutmobile slows through a residential area.
A familiar smell wafts through the window—pungent, spicy, potentially intoxicating.
The sun shines, a rarity.
Recent rains have made the hills green alongside Highway 299, a logging road that moves inland from the Pacific Coast to Redding.
The drive to Coates takes us off 299 in Willow Creek, well before Redding.
A love of wine makes us all fast friends.
We share memories of remarkable tastings in Amador County, Sonoma, Paso Robles and Southern Washington.
Advice is shared, recommendations made.
We drink other fine bottles.
These are my kind of people.
Our designated driver herds us back into the Troutmobile.
In Weitchpec, we turn east and drive along the Klamath River to Orleans.
A fire crackles in a woodstove.
Robin Coates ushers us into the kitchen where bottles of red wine are lined up on a bar.
The varietal makes me think of Vegas rush casino no deposit codes 2020 />Our talk turns to wines with which one might start the day, and Norman Coates suggests his trebbiano, the Italian white from grapes he planted in the 1990s.
Debate ensues as to whether one drinks the wine before coffee or after it.
The winery is not open to the public.
The couple prefers that people visit the website and, you know, buy the click at area stores.
Talk turns to crime in Humboldt County.
We taste the syrah and a delectable cabernet sauvignon—lighter than many California cabs and superbly drinkable.
We eat cheese and pate and sourdough rye baked this morning.
We buy wine and tote two cases down the dark road.
Giggling in the moonlight, we climb back into the Troutmobile and head back to the coast.
I seem to remember someone passing around a bag of gummy peach rings.
But I might have been dreaming, dozing in the comfy bucket seat.
You can make tofu taste like Italian sausage.
You can toy with the texture, just a speck, so that a person eating your tofu chili will barely notice the curdled soy product.
This works best if the vegetarian grub is served with a seductive red wine—one that holds up to the challenge, complementing chili, cumin, onion and black beans.
It has a funky hue I call Barney purple.
Tangy zingy zang on the finish.
Our animated blend is at the Stage where it is drinkable now, or may be Left for a few years.
Nor does the Blackjack double down syrah 2020 Oak website give me clues as to which grape varietals went into this wine.
Wine is complicated, mysterious.
These days, my world is full of intriguing new pairings.
My husband, Dave, and I have lived the commuter-marriage life for five years now.
That has translated to weekend honeymoons with hiking, cooking, art, music, movies and wine sipped in languid bliss under star-studded skies.
On a together weekend, Dave might leave Reno early, drive all day and meet me at a wine bar for happy hour.
Bake a loaf of fresh bread.
Pop open a delectable cabernet sauvignon.
This has added a hearty dose of reality to honeymoon weekends.
Dave arrived for a recent visit early and headed straight to the house.
I was at work.
The dogs barked and wagged.
He cleaned, did laundry, made my bed.
We met at a bank to do some financial hoo-ha-ing.
Finally, we went to the wine click, a teensy bit exhausted.
A 2009 Moonstone Crossing Amador County mourvedre revived us with its earthy fruits.
That night, we ate pumpkin soup and pasta.
The next night, we enjoyed broccoli pizza.
On Day Three, I concocted a giant pot of tofu chili.
Did I mention that my adult children are vegetarians?
As you might have guessed from the previous mention of steak, Dave and I are not.
At least not yet.
A meat option is a rare addition to the menu.
No one is stopping us from eating meat.
In fact, next time Dave comes, I might buy juicy steaks.
Dave and I had both been complaining about red meat hangovers—the digestive unpleasantness that lasts for 12 to 18 hours after ingesting seared cow flesh.
Cancer experts who rigorously reviewed hundreds of scientific studies have concluded that red meats are strongly linked to colorectal cancer.
Red-meat consumption is also linked to lung, esophageal, stomach and pancreatic cancer.
Life is 100 percent fatal.
I enjoy bites of juicy red meat between sips of a fine cab.
Tannic red wines, with their astringent mouth feel, pair well with meat.
One theory explains that the fatty texture of meat is balanced by the dry feel of the wine.
A vegetarian website offers such pairings for even the reddest of reds.
A cabernet sauvignon, for example, might pair well with grilled veggies, barbecue sauces, garlicky things, and aged or stinky cheeses.
After putting me on hold for research, a friendly wine-room employee parsed the blend out at 60 percent petit verdot, 20 percent cabernet sauvignon and 20 petite sirah.
OK, on to the secrets of tofu alteration: To transform tofu from the realm of slices, slabs and cubes, freeze it.
This alters the texture of the curdled soy.
Squeeze the water out.
Break it up into bits and globs that almost resemble ground beef.
I used chili sauce, cayenne pepper, thyme, oregano, dried parsley, salt, black pepper, cumin and fennel.
Toss this concoction until the tofu bits are evenly coated.
Sear the tofu in olive oil until it gets as brown and crispy as you desire.
Then add to soup.
I sautéed onions, garlic, bell peppers, jalapeno and two stalks of celery, and tossed those in as well.
Until we added cheese and sour cream later, this qualified as vegan chili.
Dave said he enjoyed the batch.
Dawn came morning after morning with smoldering red-orange skylines.
Wide swaths of charred hills and valleys were left in its wake.
Now those grapes are wine.
Not for months or years.
Sweetland tips the wine into my blackjack double down syrah 2020 />Folks have nicknamed this the Rim Fire Red, she says.
Her description of smoke gives me pause.
Notes of charred air are there, yes, but these subtle tones are balanced expertly with brighter eruptions of growing things—savory herbs and brambly berries.
What does it take to coax this complexity from grapes that spent the weeks before harvest saturated in smoke?
In Tuolumne County, this guru of grapes is Chuck Hovey.
Hovey, 60, got his start at in San Jose, and made wines at in Murphys for more than 20 years.
In 2008, Hovey started his own label.
Hovey is a legend in Tuolumne and Calaveras county wine-making.
Now the legend is facing his own fires.
Over the summer, Hovey survived two strokes and had to have a craniectomy.
While Hovey recovers this fall, his shoes are being filled by wine-making apprentice Cody LaPertche.
At Gianelli Vineyards tasting room in Jamestown, Dave and I encounter a dozen award-winning wines that Hovey crafted from grapes grown a few miles out of town.
A list of 2013 distinctions includes 11 wines that won a combined 26 awards.
Nothing strikes us as bland or acidic or even less than fabulous.
Several are so delicious that we roll our eyes back and make happy sighs.
Between the two is a pan-for-nuggets tourist shop.
This is gold country, after all.
She puts in a plug for a recent production while also talking knowledgeably about the local wine scene.
Sweetland fell in love with Inner Sanctum because of the Torro 3.
On a recent birthday, her partner was cooking up burgers with blue cheese and Portobello mushrooms.
Hoping for a spectacular pairing, she brought home the Rim Fire Red.
Sweetland had been pregnant.
Her midwife had advised staying home, and not going out to breathe the dangerous air.
She recalls how the layers of smoke converged, most afternoons, to form a mushroom cloud.
Though perhaps more widely known for craft beers, Prime slots bonus code Standard Pour offers a few Inner Sanctum wines.
I order a glass of the Rim Fire Red, pairing it with a tangy brussel sprout and bacon appetizer.
For dessert, I drink The Don, toasting the fine work of winemaker Hovey, and offering best wishes for his full and speedy recovery.
Weather report for a dry, summer Friday afternoon in the Temecula Check this out Sunny, light wind, temps in the 90s.
In Temecula, the grenache varietal is ideal for the crafting of a complex rosé.
Tavizon says the winery has played around with a few varietals for its rosés, but the grenache stands out.
And the weather report for fall?
Not too long ago, I would have snubbed any wine the color of that wine-like substance that gramps buys by the six-pack at Costco.
Water condensed in the heat, wetting the label.
I watched as another guest tipped the bottle to the side and examined the bottle copy.
He set the wine down and, instead, polished off a pinot gris.
My wine geek friend opened the bottle of pinkness read article poured some for me.
She would not steer me into the land of unpleasant beverages.
It paired nicely with everything from cucumbers to salmon.
One of my favorites?
And if the Calaveras Rosa is any indication, you should.
But an encounter with the lighter version of the grape is like meeting Marilyn Manson as an adolescent Brian Hugh Warner: You just know this kid is going to end up seriously https://healthcareinsuranceplan.info/2020/big-drop-poker-2020.html />The Calaveras Rosa is complicated like that, with dark fruits waiting to be discovered behind a crooked smile and clear complexion.
Bring on the 2013.
The 2012 vintage nabbed a gold in the 2013 San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition and a gold in the 2014 Pacific Rim Wine Competition.
Its 2011 Special Selection Rose of Sangiovese won 10 awards.
My idea of a click at this page autumn afternoon might include zipping over to Callaway with a picnic basket, attaining a chilled bottle and kicking back in the shade at a table overlooking acres of ripe grapes.
Quick note: Some of my family members and friends do not appreciate dry, aka delicious wine.
Gramps, as noted above, lusts for white zin.
She is extremely cute and good-natured.
I like her lots.
She added orange-mango juice and made mimosas.
I keep my head down.
Many options exist for, say, a meal that demands a wine with higher residual sugar.
Monte De Oro, off Rancho California Road in Temecula, crafts a lovely off-dry rosĂ© from five estate-grown grapes—syrah, cabernet sauvignon, merlot, cabernet franc and zinfandel.
The winery educates consumers of rosĂ©s at its website, describing how the winemaker uses the saignee style—pulling grape juice from various fermentations after just a few days, allowing only limited contact with red-grape skins.
Winemakers who use this style can end up with exquisite roses and also, some argue, more intensely concentrated reds down the road.
Steward says he would serve the Synergy with a spicy Thai dinner—the sweet would balance the heat.
This is about creeping age and rolling green hills.
Dave and I drive the hybrid to Paso Robles the week before I turn 50.
As age advances, though, I sense in myself less barrel-tasting wildness and more smoothness, like velvet syrah cellared with a cool film of crusty particulates forming over a bottle.
Its once-beloved plumishness feels gooey to us now.
We taste and shrug.
Seems the price of boutique wine is escalating—supply and demand, baby—at the same time as our, you know, palates are improving.
Credit card debt looms.
Dave and I arrive at around 10:30 a.
Many people are kicking back at tables on the patio already.
Knowledgeable servers deliver tastes of wine paired with various cheeses.
Grenache grapes—with bright red berry and spice flavors—most often dominate the blends.
Syrah contributes inky depths and structure.
Mourvedre gives it the mysterious and ruddy elegance.
Or pour it all over my lover and, well, you know.
I need more mourvedre.
Jada is one of about 200 member wineries of the.
Since the 1980s, Central Coast winemakers have riffed on southern Rhone wine styles with creative finesse.
Every trip to Paso Robles should include a visit to the Albertsons on Niblick Road.
Buy enough wine, and a 30 percent discount kicks in.
I will have caps to sniff.
The kind folks at Tobin James send us to.
We spend the longest time ata family winery with excellent everything.
There, Travis Hutchinson talks us into joining the club in order to nab a couple bottles of the 2011 Boneyard.
Hutchinson invites us to stay for cheeseburgers.
We have other plans, but we appreciate the invite.
A final recommended stop: the new guys on the block.
Brecon is a teeny outfit with only a few wines released so far.
I buy this bottle as a gift to myself for my 55th birthday.
But the mourvedre will make it all better.
The moon lights the way to my cottage.
A lantern glows inside.
Friends knock and enter, bringing veggies and bread.
Folks pull out hand-crafted instruments.
We build a bonfire under the stars, dancing and feasting until dawn.
OK, back to reality.
For two weeks, my mead had been fermenting feistily.
Then not so much.
After a couple of weeks, the bubbling business slowed and seemed to stop.
I reported that the specific gravity measured 1.
Thank you, Internet, for giving me chem lessons so I can break bad in my home lab.
The specific gravity of water is 1.
Pure alcohol is 0.
My mead, as you can see, is quite dense.
Fermentation slows and stops eventually.
But my mead is still too sweet and only boasts about 5.
While honey contains all the nutrients required by bees and humansyeast is needier.
As the sugar transforms into alcohol, my yeast needs another shot of nutrients—a concoction containing amino and unsaturated fatty acids and the kinds of stuff that I could probably get from crushing up a multi-vitamin.
Rather than mash up my Geritol, though, I obtain a packet of tan powder called yeast nutrient, and unscrew the wide-mouth air-lock cap on the mead.
I place my hydrometer in the mead and give it a gentle spin.
When it stops moving, I take a reading.
Not too syrupy, a bit effervescent.
So in goes the nutrients, and the concoction bubbles like madness.
Happy yeast makes tasty mead.
Two weeks or so ago, my husband, Dave, and I started our first batch of mead.
You can make mistakes, and the mead will most likely survive.
After equipment, buying honey is the priciest aspect of mead-making.
Why are we buying honey when Dave keeps bees in his backyard, where they feast on red raspberries, roses and lavender?
Of course, Dave can be a little finicky.
We also had six gallons of filtered water, a thermometer, a hydrometer and a 6.
We had sanitizer to clean a long stirring spoon, cups and measuring utensils.
We had Prise de Mousse wine yeast, nutrients, tartaric acid and Irish moss for clarity.
Gobbing honey out of jars was sticky business.
Then we heated the must, aka watered-down honey, aka proto-wine.
The proportions of honey to water differ depending on the recipe.
One online recipe suggested two pounds of honey per gallon of water.
We landed right in the middle—18 pounds of honey and six gallons of water, or three pounds of honey per gallon.
We boiled water and added honey along with nutrients and energizer.
Adding honey cooled the water, but then we took the liquid back up to 160 degrees Fahrenheit.
I fiddled with the burner for 10 minutes or so, trying to keep it hot without letting it boil.
Another recipe calls for boiling.
The must had to cool down again before we could add yeast.
We were ready to sit down to crab appetizers and wine.
When the liquid was finally cool, we added yeast and stirred like maniacs to get plenty of oxygen into the must.
I twirled a spoon until my arms hurt, then Dave gave it a go, creating a cyclone in the bottle.
Sound like a good plan for a Friday night?
We thought so, too.
Our work done, Dave and I opened a lovely bottle of Anderson Valley pinot noir for which we paid some serious dough.
Yes, said one wine-making friend, no problem.
We know this wine variety can be amazing.
Cuz insipid pinot noir is cheap.
Now here we are, drinking elegant pinot noir and adoring it, eyes rolling back in our head, drool escaping from corners of mouths.
We whip out our credit cards for more, more.
Locals call this the Deep End.
Yet the Deep Enders do.
At here, tasting-room employee Ali Nemo pours a side-by-side tasting of 2011 pinots.
The second pinot is from grapes all grown about 10 miles from the Pacific.
Both wines resonate with complex flavors, feature rich color, and offer an outstanding finish that lingers on and on.
But the wines differ in texture, acidity blackjack double down syrah 2020 flavor.
In the first, you can taste the sunshine.
Owner and winemaker Milla Handley, great-great granddaughter of Henry Weinhard, crafts wines from her 29-acre estate vineyard and also buys grapes from Redwood and Potter valleys.
That's why this wine can be plopped in a cellar or dark closet and emerge 15 years later drinking so, so smooth.
To get here, rich casino deposit codes 2020 north beyond Santa Rosa.
Head west on Highway 128 at Cloverdale, and cruise rolling green hills toward the coast.
The book casts wine here as mere extras.
Mendocino County anchors the Emerald Triangle, where much weed is grown.
This is a tucked-away place, south of Fort Bragg and, farther north, the Lost Coast, aka the King Range National Conservation Area.
We could stay here all day and let wine-room worker Nick Johnson pour 15 wines for us.
These tastings blackjack double down syrah 2020 complimentary tastings—but we pass on award-winning whites and hit the reds.
Navarro won a gold medal, best of class, for this one.
In two days, Dave and I drink spectacular pinots at many wineries.
Along the way, we encounter a few zinfandels from inland vineyards.
These zins vary wildly from our beloved jammy zins of the Sierra Foothills, Amador and Lodi.
Anderson is famous for its whites and sparkling wines, so we sample a few of these.
But for us, the pinots are the reds of note.
This is one of those.
Fortunately, I have not yet hit the limit on my credit card.
Smooth with age, its essence lingers in my mouth for hours, days, weeks.
I can still taste it.
I have damp dreams about this wine.
Blanketed by low stratus clouds, the grapes here strive for survival with testicular fortitude.
We taste their anguish in the Deep End pinot noirs.
In the tasting room, we chat with Dan Rivin, who revels in the blackjack double down syrah 2020 of small family-owned estates.
And this makes Rivin oddly glum.
Homogenized pinot noir that no longer pays tribute to the terroir of here.
Pinot that tastes like root beer and cotton candy.
Or perhaps the feisty Deep Enders will prove resistant to invasion.
Rivin pours us a last splash of pinot noir, luxuriously rich, with creamy layers of fruit and spice that taste like here.
We head home blackjack double down syrah 2020 a cloud.
It is well to remember that there are five reasons for drinking: the arrival of a friend, one's present or future thirst, the excellence of the wine, or any other reason.
Giant snow clumps fell from dark clouds at Calaveras Big Trees State Park.
A half-dozen wine loving amici and I were camping in Arnold, Calif.
The weather can be temperate in spring.
That night, not so much.
We went to Milliaire, Indian Rock, Zucca, Stevenot, Newsome-Harlow and Twisted Oak.
That night, we huddled around the fire, teeth chattering, passing around a bottle or two of newly acquired red.
Misty aimed a flashlight on the steaming cow flesh and concurred.
Seared yet rare in all the right places.
It made the rounds on a long metal fork.
Taking turns, we ripped and pulled and growled and gnawed like primal dwellers of caves.
A tribe of Wino sapiens, toughing out the snow, lighting a fire against the chill of night.
We somehow avoided dropping the meat on the slushy ground.
Pairs well with carnivorousness.
Here, access to fabulous wine is limited, and I wonder if this impacts the politics.
Would tastier wine help the red states turn blue?
Wrap your brains around that metaphoric color challenge.
When I last visited here, I brought my own crate of California reds, checked as luggage.
Sad story: The airline misplaced my box, and by the time they found it, I was on my way back to California.
My family drank the wine.
While trawling the slender wine aisle at a local liquor store, I struck up a conversation with a hometown wine aficionado.
I smiled and noted something about amazing California wines.
And, yes, I have tried that wine.
And she went her way.
And I said to self: Why not?
On the bottle was an invitation for a free winery tour in nearby Prairie Du Sac.
I might have to zip down the road for what sounds like an interesting pinot noir.
The future thirst is now.
The Excellence of the Wine We made few purchases of expensive wine this year.
Instead, we acquired many, many more bottles that we love—and can also afford.
Superb wines at a budget-friendly price point.
On the first day of Christmas—OK, it was more like Thanksgiving—my true love gave to me a half-case of Aglianico.
When Dave spotted aglianico on sale, he remembered how much I had adored it on one of our wine hikes earlier this year.
The wine feels light and round in the mouth—like satin and roses, a tasty Christmas ornament.
I bought a bottle of aglianico on my last visit to Amador Foothills about a year ago.
Winemaker Ben Zeitman took me on a walk in his vineyard.
Grapes were ripe, and we tasted the aglianico, picking small plumb fruit from the vines.
Zeitman said he would be selling his 32-acre vineyard and winery that produces 3,500 cases of wine annually.
He was almost 80 and ready to retire.
Dave and I entertained a fantasy briefly.
I prefer to let the grape artists make the wine for me.
To me, that means the estate is in good hands.
Any Other Reason When your kids come home for the holidays, and marvelous chaos descends on your dwelling, drink a good bottle of wine.
When your mate has had a long week at work and comes home exhausted, drink a mohegan sun slot tournament 2020 bottle of wine.
When your book rolls off the presses, imperfect but done, drink a good bottle of wine.
The dog wanders through the Illuminare tasting room in Camino, Calif.
Do people still say uber?
Do they use the umlaut to spell it?
When I drink, I overthink.
I sample the 2011 Mourvedre and fall in love.
I could taste at six wineries in one day—if I started early enough.
I have to pee.
During harvest, it transforms into a magical wonderland called Apple Hill, with fritters, pie, caramel-covered orbs and bumper-to-bumper traffic.
This time of year, the Christmas-tree farms kick into gear.
My favorite reason to visit this El Dorado County town any time of year: more than a dozen or so smallish wineries, all with tasting rooms featuring complimentary pours and friendly, knowledgeable staff.
Dave and I plan a day trip.
I pick six wineries.
I will be deliberate.
I can do this.
The terrain explains the name: ancient volcanoes.
Floral notes, fruit and spices, nicely balanced.
One of my all-time favorite zins in this price range.
I decline white wines and head to the reds.
First up, the Sangiovese 2012 Matagrano Vineyard.
The pitch: Perfect with your turkey dinner.
I jam through complimentary and reserve tastings.
Notables include the newly released 2013 Grenache and the Tectonic 2011, a mourvedre and syrah blend.
So far, so good.
Take two: —Designated Dave cruises country roads, dodging tractors and tourists.
Dave buys the latter.
A tapas trio waits in the car.
He describes the style as halfway between a lighter, spicier French rendition, and a thick-bodied Argentinian.
Which takes my mind to places not wine-related.
Speaking of South American soccer players: Miller is talking about getting punched in the face with tannins.
Many gorgeous wines here.
Dave joins the club.
Four, and not on the floor: —I snarf pistachios in the car.
We head straight to Illuminare, where winemaker Aaron Hill pours goodness in my glass.
How are the kids?
Hill has done it right.
I guzzle a half-liter of water and munch on crackers, channeling my inner Stewie Griffin.
He opened his own learn more here in 2005.
Tasting room employee Tami Fries pours and talks to me about apple pie and tamales.
Her secret: Many dried peppers and lard.
Is blackjack double down syrah 2020 lunch time?
We can come back and enjoy tasting No.
Outdoor seating, warm afternoon sun.
A friendly winery dog works the crowd.
Recommended wine pairing: Bada Boom, a red blend.
And the wine tastes, uh, mauve.
As in: I can no longer differentiate flavors, nor can I judge the nose or finish.
Drinking more wine, at this point, would be pointless.
Below: Crushed grapes in a vat outside of Crystal Basin Winery, Camino, Calif.
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From festivals to sporting events, the nation's top touring acts to locally produced productions, there's always something to do in the Circle City. Your guide to the ...


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