Last night, Sticky and I attended a screening of Orsen Welles’ Touch of Evil which was stunning on the big screen. It’s a delight to watch a particularly corpulent Welles stumble about in this darkest of noir and the film precedes Psycho by two years as an example of how things can go south when Janet Leigh checks into a motel room. It was amidst this backdrop that we were unexpectedly mesmerized by an amazing backpack bottle of Mondeuse from André and Michel Quenard.
This idea struck last week when a co-worker and I were naming our favourite wines in the shop for a certain price point. Under $30, under $50, etc. As we contemplated the best rapport qualité prix, or best value for price wines in the shop, I started to realize how many of them I’ve personally stashed away.
As I smash these words into the keyboard, my dreams of springtime are shattered by legions of snowflakes that have long since lost their aesthetic appeal. Like me, readers who are denizens of Calgary probably have some justification for living here, but as this most oppressive of winters mercilessly perpetuates itself these reasons become increasingly elusive. (Unless you have a passion for snow removal… in which case you’re a pervert).
When is a “critter wine” not a “critter wine”? This widely used term often speaks of the bouncing image and name to be found on some mass-produced wines.
Far from being a “critter wine”, the misleadingly named Perro Chico (Spanish for “little dog”) is actually named after a local variety of mushroom found in the region of Somontano. Not a dog to be found on the label (or in the bottle)!
