Would You Really Read an Entire Post about My Dinner?
Earlier tonight, while preparing my dinner, I pulled the wine bag out of the wine box that I bought on September 21. This is a time honored family tradition of diligently pursuing every last drop of the bulk wine in the refrigerator, because really, there are starving people in China who would love that last 3/4 ounce and what’s the point of buying cheap wine if you are not going to consume it all and realize the greatest possible ratio of ounces to dollars? I straightened the bag back into a square, held it by the top corner so that any remaining wine would collect down by the spout, and positioned it over my glass.
Then I noticed some brown spots under the clear plastic that surrounds the spout. I know that alcohol isn’t normally considered a “growing medium,” (particularly by the HP who sees it as an especially effective antibiotic) but what other explanation could there be? I had to conclude, given the advanced age of the box and the lack of any other explanation, that some sort of mold was growing around the spout (note to self: drink more/faster). So against everything that I believe and everything I have been taught, I threw out the end of the wine.
Fortunately, having had a short stint as a brownie/girl scout, I was prepared and had a bottle of Kendall-Jackson Sauvignon Blanc that had been chilling away in the refrigerator since late September. I got my handy Screwpull foil cutter (probably one of the most useful tools in my kitchen and an item that everyone should have) and took the top off the cork.
But it wasn’t a cork. It was a plastic “cork.” The kind those Australians use. The HP and I both read an article years ago about how the advent of the plastic cork has caused heartache and woe for the Portuguese cork farmers (but now everyone wants cork floors, so I’m going to assume those guys are back in business). The farmers were so down on their luck that the European Union declared that plastic corks were not allowed for European wine. Whenever we see a plastic cork we always lament the poor cork farmers (and then drink until we’ve forgotten all about them).
Since the HP left, I have been talking to myself more, or saying things in my head that I would normally say out loud if I had someone nearby to say them to. And so, when I saw the plastic cork, I thought to myself “Well, well, well, look who’s gone to the plastic cork now.” This is in fact, a quote and exactly what the HP would have said if he’d been here, so I don’t know if I was actually talking to myself or listening to a hallucination. In any event, the cork answered me.
I know. It seems unlikely that a cork would answer to my unspoken thoughts. Some of you may be ready to pick up the phone and demand to know exactly how many bottles of Kendall-Jackson Sauvignon Blanc I had opened and emptied before the cork talked back. But it answered me before I even had a sip. Here’s what it said:
(It says “I selected this cork to ensure the highest wine quality – Jess S. Jackson” and although I took more than 15 pictures of the cork (no, I only had the one glass) I can’t produce a readable one. I don’t know if this is a limitation of my capabilities or the camera’s, but I will admit that Sony is a lot more successful than I am).
Is this evidence of a guilty conscience? A nod to the wine traditionalists who crave the thrill of trying to determine if the cork has turned moldy and spoiled the wine? A preemptive strike against people who like real cork because they like the little chunks it leaves in the bottle? I don't know the true motivation, but I imagine there is a vintner on a therapist couch somewhere trying to reconcile these possibilities.
The wine was entirely necessary to sit alongside my dinner.
This may look like takeout from a fine Chinese restaurant, but it came from my freezer, courtesy of my big brother (who may be the nicest person on the planet) and Home Bistro (who may be my new BFF). I’ll admit I felt a bit like an astronaut boiling up all these plastic bags (sheesh, of course I know as well as you do that boiling water in outer space would not be hot enough to heat the food – I’m just trying to say the whole thing seemed rather “space age”), but when all the food was liberated from the plastic, it looked and tasted delicious – with no obvious reference points to its former life in the freezer.
Well, it needed one addition.
But it was some good eats.
Then I noticed some brown spots under the clear plastic that surrounds the spout. I know that alcohol isn’t normally considered a “growing medium,” (particularly by the HP who sees it as an especially effective antibiotic) but what other explanation could there be? I had to conclude, given the advanced age of the box and the lack of any other explanation, that some sort of mold was growing around the spout (note to self: drink more/faster). So against everything that I believe and everything I have been taught, I threw out the end of the wine.
Fortunately, having had a short stint as a brownie/girl scout, I was prepared and had a bottle of Kendall-Jackson Sauvignon Blanc that had been chilling away in the refrigerator since late September. I got my handy Screwpull foil cutter (probably one of the most useful tools in my kitchen and an item that everyone should have) and took the top off the cork.
But it wasn’t a cork. It was a plastic “cork.” The kind those Australians use. The HP and I both read an article years ago about how the advent of the plastic cork has caused heartache and woe for the Portuguese cork farmers (but now everyone wants cork floors, so I’m going to assume those guys are back in business). The farmers were so down on their luck that the European Union declared that plastic corks were not allowed for European wine. Whenever we see a plastic cork we always lament the poor cork farmers (and then drink until we’ve forgotten all about them).
Since the HP left, I have been talking to myself more, or saying things in my head that I would normally say out loud if I had someone nearby to say them to. And so, when I saw the plastic cork, I thought to myself “Well, well, well, look who’s gone to the plastic cork now.” This is in fact, a quote and exactly what the HP would have said if he’d been here, so I don’t know if I was actually talking to myself or listening to a hallucination. In any event, the cork answered me.
I know. It seems unlikely that a cork would answer to my unspoken thoughts. Some of you may be ready to pick up the phone and demand to know exactly how many bottles of Kendall-Jackson Sauvignon Blanc I had opened and emptied before the cork talked back. But it answered me before I even had a sip. Here’s what it said:
(It says “I selected this cork to ensure the highest wine quality – Jess S. Jackson” and although I took more than 15 pictures of the cork (no, I only had the one glass) I can’t produce a readable one. I don’t know if this is a limitation of my capabilities or the camera’s, but I will admit that Sony is a lot more successful than I am).Is this evidence of a guilty conscience? A nod to the wine traditionalists who crave the thrill of trying to determine if the cork has turned moldy and spoiled the wine? A preemptive strike against people who like real cork because they like the little chunks it leaves in the bottle? I don't know the true motivation, but I imagine there is a vintner on a therapist couch somewhere trying to reconcile these possibilities.
The wine was entirely necessary to sit alongside my dinner.
This may look like takeout from a fine Chinese restaurant, but it came from my freezer, courtesy of my big brother (who may be the nicest person on the planet) and Home Bistro (who may be my new BFF). I’ll admit I felt a bit like an astronaut boiling up all these plastic bags (sheesh, of course I know as well as you do that boiling water in outer space would not be hot enough to heat the food – I’m just trying to say the whole thing seemed rather “space age”), but when all the food was liberated from the plastic, it looked and tasted delicious – with no obvious reference points to its former life in the freezer.
Well, it needed one addition.
wasaaaabi
But it was some good eats.
posted by Shannon at 10:51 PM
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