When Grit is Gooooood!

It's 91 degrees outside, which makes today a perfect day to work in the wine cellar, checking physical inventory against cyber inventory. It’s not back-breaking work, but it is laborious, and the brain starts to fade after a few hours. Unless, of course, you're Julia (or as she’s known around here, The Machine). But even machines need a break, right? So to reward everyone, especially Miss Julia, I made lunch: spaghetti w/mushrooms, with chunks of spicy chicken sausage tossed in while the sauce was still simmering.

The wine was a1997 Azienda Bricco Rocche (Ceretto) Barolo Prapò. First I thought the dusty aftertaste (also called the “finish”) was perhaps a result of the cellar. But then, with the second sip having the same farewell, I thought, “Gotta love those Italians!” The dusty finish disappeared after a bit, and what remained was pure delight (not that I didn't like the gritty sensation, too). Italian wines are not everyone's cup of tea, but this bambino was thoroughly enjoyed by the room at large, including one amateur palate. But rest assured: by the end of this summer, that will have changed drastically. Just ask Rosana (or as she’s known around here, My Right Arm and Our Future President). Before working with me, Rosana only drank Yellow Tail.

What can I say? I’m a great boss.