Well, day 4 now of having no HVAC. Finn, Katie H, and I descended upon my mother’s pool and returned with a window unit, which is presently humming away in my bedroom, hell bent on cooling at least that much of the house. Behaving like a college student, I have placed a wee fan in the hall way, blowing out from me boudoir down the hall, and in the direction of the common areas. I’ve also placed the comically normal box fan blowing outward at the backdoor.
Meanwhile, in front of me is this Governor’s Bay effort from Marlborough NZ. An apparent private label, or “Winery Direct” as they call it. This was the most expensive $13.99 of the refrigerated offerings. It also had the least flippant label of the bunch, so I assume this is their grown up wine. I didn’t have a ton of time, but I wandered a bit and noted that, at least in the Sauvignon section, something like 80% was “Winery Direct.” If managed well, this is a smart move, business-wise, as they essentially cut out the distributors, importers, and brokers, control the narrative of the wine’s quality and performance, hold sales exclusivity, and of course retail the fuckers as well. None of this should be legal, as it is a monopoly, but they navigate the loopholes expertly, and I suspect bribe the righteous fuck out of the ABC to ignore the inherent conflicts of interest. The trouble is, people like me typically don’t take their shit very seriously.
This wine is unique in that it does not have the stereotypical “NZ Savvy” markers, often tied to the types of yeast used in mass-production; exotic berry most of us have never had, Guava, Passion Fruit, grass, kitty pee pee, grapefruit, et cetera. Were I feeling charitable, I might suggest that this wine deliberately uses native yeasts to be more terroir expressive. The nose is rather muted as is the palate. Warming it up in the glass a bit, I get some poblano pepper, and relax a bit, as I was paranoid I wouldn’t get the provenance in a blind tasting. This is very herbaceous, and rather pithy. The fruit is muted, properly, like a European wine, and the finish is more about white pepper than otherwise. Warmer still, and the peppers are dominating this wine, which I am rather ok with. This would be a wicked pairing with some chili lime chicken breast and rice. The room is cooling and I just said aloud “Alexa, shuffle songs by Christian McBride.” Things are starting to look up. If we can find a decent Vietnamese place that will deliver to the 80’s Condo Slums of Laurel, I should be roundly in the pink in no time.