Shelby Ledgerwood recommended a sweet, aromatic Riesling with curry, so I figured this gem of a Gewurztraminer could hold up well to my Indian takeout feast.
Now let me just say, for the record, I HATE that this wine is called "Cupcake." I want to be a cool and withering bitch of a girl who says things like "quelle surprise" about things like an acquaintance's unwanted pregnancy. I do not want to drink a wine called Cupcake. But what can you do? I'm not quite sure how you pronounce "surprise" in that situation, everyone I know seems to practice safe sex and the 2011 Cupcake Gewurztraminer is the jam.
And isn't it fitting to drink a wine called "Cupcake" when staying in on a Friday night? I've had this wine before, with one of my most adorable girlfriends, and that might have been even more fitting, but this is a close second. "'I don't need a man! I'm my own boyfriend!' she sobbed into her cupcake, tears saturated with grief and glitter and cheap white wine." <----that is a sentence that works for sure.
But I'm not sobbing. I don't hate staying in. And I'm not so girly that I have to get a wine called cupcake, I'm not in the store like, "oh my God, it's called 'cupcake,' Nikki, we have to." I just came to terms with the fact that I like Gewurztraminer, and this was the one available through the 5 cent wine sale, so I sucked it up and bought a couple bottles.
And I loved it. What's not to love? Other than myself? Gewurztraminer is a fussy, cool-climate grape that sometimes has a pink tinge and always comes in a tall, slender bottle. It's a lot like a nice Jewish girl: it hates to be too hot, it hates to be too cold, but it's mostly sweet, got a big personality, and smells ah-mazing. Translated, Gewurztraminer literally means "perfumed" or "spiced" Traminer (a kind of grape). And Cupcake proves no exception. This wine smells like guava and rose petals and tastes just as good, with some earthiness as it warms. If an English garden went to town on a tropical rainforest and the tropical rainforest and the English garden was like, "wait, do you have a...?" and the rainforest went, "are you on the pill? Because I just really hate condoms" and the English garden was like, in her mind, "shit, did I take it this morning?" but in her words was all, "yeah, totally, 100%" and then--QUELLE SURPRISE--they got pregnant and decided to keep it, this wine would be their love child. And I really mean that, because they end up happily ever after. Don't believe me? Then take Knocked Up off your favorite movies list on Facebook, hypocrite, because that is pretty much the plot of that movie.
I used to think dry meant classy when it came to white wines. But while Cupcake 2011 Gewurztraminer is dry, it's more floral and fun and whimsical and honestly, so am I. I will never pull off "quelle surprise" in conversation (but I do think I pretty much nailed it above in text). I do, however, make great comfort food and snuggle like nobody's watching. I laugh a lot. Flowers are the best. My cake decorating skills are solid. My name is Ali Schouten, AND I'M OK WITH BEING SWEET.
God, that felt good. But back to brass tacks (on like, an aqua ballet flat. Right??? How cute would that be?). Don't serve this wine too cold. In fact, don't serve whites too cold in general. You won't get any aromatics. An ice bucket should only be used for sparkling wine, and most whites need a minute after they come out of the fridge. Let this one linger in your glass; that last sip will be a treasure at almost room temperature. It goes well with spice, salt, and rich flavors (hence it kicking ass with Chicken Korma and Garlic Naan). Pair it with Indian food, a Kubrick classic, and contented solitude, or an everything bagel with smoked salmon, a gaggle of girlfriends (bonus points if they are also geese) and proud, self-mocking loneliness.
(I was smiling at an everything bagel with smoked salmon)
(I was blonde)
(Also there were girlfriends there. The gaggle was taking the picture. This is not a great exhibit)