Riesling's Blue Bottles: Future Sea Glass

Embracing the Bitter and the Sweet

Week four of Zero to Vino! Benvenuti!

Or, I should say, willkommen!

Wine of the Week: Liebe Winemaker’s Collection Riesling

A lot has happened in the last week of wine fun. I got a job! I’m now working at a small Italian grocer in the town where I live. I like the job. I started right away. I get to do things like fill cannoli and give people tiramisu.

However, with the quick change, I didn’t take as much time to prepare for this week of the wine adventure. I went to the supermarket hungry (always a mistake), and then just looked around, aimlessly, for a wine. A woman (who worked at Wegman’s) named Denise sensed my confusion and helped me.

Denise and Brandi have made Zero to Vino far more enjoyable for me!

Brandi also came by, she asked me how the Pinot Grigio went. I told her what Pete and I thought, and that this week we were interested in something a little sweeter.

Brandi and Denise nodded at each other in some kind of wine-salesperson code, and then Denise took me to the German wine section and showed me a blue bottle of Riesling.

And now, some Info:

First Impressions

I find that the first impressions I have of wine are at the store.

Honestly, my first thought while wine shopping is overwhelm. I’m so uneducated, and every time I go I feel so lost and idiotic.

It’s hard for me to trust myself. Or anyone, for that matter. Will what I find make a difference? Will I like it more or less than anything else? I feel like I’m just blindfolded and throwing darts. Except I can see. And I don’t have any sharp objects.

I’m glad that Brandi and Denise swooped in and saved the day. They have made this experience even better. Having help helped.

Oh. And when it comes to the wine—I liked that the bottle was blue.

First Impressions, Part Zwei

I made a really simple dinner - of pork chops in a Korma simmer sauce (that I got from Wegman’s) with some rice and roast veggies. I wanted to cook nicer meals for this project, but life is life. In any case, the pork chops with Korma simmer sauce wasn’t too shabby.

I went to open the bottle and felt a surprising sadness: there was no cork! This wine had a screw-top lid. I don’t know. Is corked wine better? Worse? There is something so nostalgic about a cork. It feels like a souvenir. I’m sure that long-time wine drinkers are laughing right now. Or maybe they’re nodding?

But I like the corks.

I love the stains on the cork. The print. I love to smell the corks. I think it’s these details that I love.

Yes. It’s the detail. Even though there are a billion details I skip over in my life (where the fuck are my keys, glasses, phone…etc), I don’t skimp when it comes to life’s beautiful details.

And that’s what I love about wine. The bottles, the labels, the corks. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I like that there are people who care about beauty and experience over efficient modernity.

The lack of cork then made me question the blue bottle. Wait. Is this dark bottle hiding something? Then, I saw the green bottles that my Chianti had come in, and I realized nope. Okay. So, this wine didn’t have a cork, but made up for it with the cobalt blue bottle.

First Impressions, Part Drei

I’m not great at the whole “first impressions” and tasting thing. I know the “five S-s.” And I think that they’re cute. Easy to remember.

But, I also kind of think that they aren’t really helpful to me, an absolute beginner. What am I supposed to see? What am I supposed to smell? What am I supposed to swirl, sip, savor?

I See - Wine
I Smell - Wine
I Swirl - Wine
I Sip - Wine
I Savor - Wine

Look, I know how to pay attention. I just explained that to you. That’s why I’ve lost all of my other shit, because I’m busy paying attention to the small flowers in cracks of sidewalks.

I see this stuff…but don’t ask me about my keys.

But, I don’t know what I’m looking for when I experience the wine. And I want to know. So, I think that I’ll make a checklist. For now, I’ll say that the wine was a light golden color. Straw. Yellow. It was a little bubbly. I’m not the biggest fan of bubbles, but it wasn’t too much for me. Pete loves bubbles, and he liked that this was bubbly.

The Riesling is sweet. Easy to drink. Not dry. Not astringent. I feel no tightening, puckering, or resistance to swallowing. It’s just sweet and easy.

The wine lingered in my mouth. Not the essence of the wine—like the Pinot Grigio did. Instead, it felt like the actual wine lingered. Which was good during the meal.

But far less pleasurable after.

Mistakes Were Made

I was tired. I didn’t take notes. I wasn’t in the mood to think or use my imagination. I just wanted to drink wine. I wanted to get drunk. (But I’m still too scared to do that.)

More about Blue Bottles

As I mentioned earlier, after my initial delight of the blue bottle, then sadness at the screw top, I grew skeptical—is the blue bottle hiding something? Why not clear glass, so I can see the wine?

I did a quick search online, and found that blue bottles aren’t meant to hide anything. About thirty years ago, producers switched to blue bottles for Riesling so they would obviously stand out.

Nice.

So now the bottle sits on my desk. Soon I’ll have a flower for it. Or I’ll have a series of flowers in all of the wine bottles because I haven’t thrown any bottles away yet.

I look at this blue bottle, and I think…sea glass!

And then, I think about sea glass, and I think about my little brother who passed away fourteen years ago on the eleventh.

Ow wow. Wow. Wow.

Rating

It feels unceremonious to go on. But. Well. I must. Maybe, I’ll tell you about my brother Sean. Or maybe that will come later.

For now, I’ll say that it’s always shocking to find what reminds me of him. And it’s shocking that the body knows, it’s June, and I start thinking of him more.

Like, how, when I see a Dodge Caravan (he used to only go potty in there when he was potty training) I can’t help but think of him.

Or when the helicopter flies to the hospital next door, I think of how we always used to stop to watch “Harold the Helicopter” every time we drove past it (which was every time we drove anywhere because my dad lived next to the hospital).

Or like the other day, when someone was talking about the song “I’ve Been Working on the Railroad.” And I think of him, singing it at the top of his happy, little lungs.

Or when I see a blue wine bottle, and I know that those little cobalt pieces of sea glass he was so good at finding originally came from bottles like these.

Bottles of Riesling.

It’s unceremonious, but it’s what it is. So, without further ado, the rating:

(See you next week.)