Chronic Negress

The Cervantes Institute in Manhattan is a haven for Spanish wine lovers. Helio San Miguel has forgotten more about Spanish wine than I will ever know. He offers classes at the Institute in Manhattan. This was sign up day for next semester and there were only 19 people ahead of me so I got most of what I wanted. I couldn’t catch a single class in the Ribuera del Duero or Rioja regions last year, but next year I will be paid up and awash in knowledge. My studies for my advanced certificate at the IWC are proceeding apace. If I can just keep the Dying Media folks from chapping my ass, life will be golden.

To celebrate the end of the year for language and wine classes, there was a tapas party. In addition to some awful sangria and paint thinner jug solera sherry, there was some decent Serrano ham and a decadent, mouthwatering sheep’s milk cheese with some crusty bread. Also blood sausage, some sort of potato-egg thing and what I will call European Union meatballs. Unlike the Swedish or Finnish varieties, these don’t taste like anything and come with gravy that leaves even less of an impression.

Also memorable was the Duque de Alba brandy but don’t drink a lot of this if you want to stay upright and coherent enough to drive. A small sip was rewarding with some rich, raisiny notes.

Upon arriving safely home, thankful that Manhattan empties out on Fridays, I drank some more of this EXP Shiraz 2004 that I bought completely on a whim. As I deepen my knowledge, one bit of autodidact behavior is to go out and buy a bunch of wines of one varietal. You try them and see what please you; what’s characteristic and what’s just plain crap.

The EXP is pleasing and drinkable but more food is definitely in order. Which brings us back  to the title of this post.