Wine and Cheese

This week we decided to investigate our more cultured sides and went to a wine and cheese tasting.  There were four of us, three of which can usually be found sweaty and in bike shorts when together, and the fourth our trusted coach, supplier of Pringles and cold beer after a long hot ride, huddled together around a pile of crackers and some fairly good cheese.  For the record, this event was not going to be about the cheese.  

Going to a wine and cheese tasting is not a side of ourselves that we typically air in public for three reasons.  The first reason is that we live in Colorado and the usual style of our days and our lives is casual and grounded.  This is a nice way of saying we are too lazy to dress up unless strictly necessary and going to a wine and cheese tasting somehow sounds like we might need to wear makeup and something fancy.  In fairness, since both women were wearing boots, rather than sneakers or flip-flops, with our jeans or leggings we did consider that we had made an effort.   The second reason is that we are more likely to indulge in burritos and beer in large quantities rather than dainty plates of cheese and crackers.  When we eat out together it is often post-ride or post-run and therefore the body demands more than the portion we were brought which might have fed one of us at a normal sitting as an appetizer.  The amount of food on our table necessitated that we share nicely.  The third reason is that one of our party, whom I shall decline to name, is apparently unable to pronounce the names of any wine and if he were not such a wonderful person and I didn’t adore him would be a great embarrassment to the rest of the party who was fitting in rather nicely thank you Brad...whoops!

What we collectively know about wine is about as much as you could write on the label of the wine bottle in thick felt pen.  This did not daunt us and what we found was that this is the very reason you enter into the wine tasting agreement, especially in good company at the end of a long week.  We were to choose six tastings and then select one for our full and final glass.  This gave us the opportunity to taste losing face; if you did not like it there was no shame.  I stuck to reds and made a diabolical face at the first sip of a blackberry wine.  I wanted to try it but it confirmed my previous experiences that an abundance of fruit in wine tastes like cough medicine to my very un-discerning palette.  My favorite was the Tempranillo, which was very uncouthly called “tempura” but that other member of the party I told you about.  We tried to explain that tempura is a Japanese dish but the lovely lady serving us was egging him on.  

We laughingly experimented with a vocabulary that has a lot of adjectives with meanings other than their common day parlance.  Someone said “tannins” a few times before I asked what they were and no-one could really answer and then we settled into our more usual banter about our weeks, our boys, and our goals.  It is so easy to be with good friends, who also happen to be good people, that even though we probably learned nothing more about wine, we knew what we liked and that was more than enough.  I raise my glass to being in the company of best friends…cheers!