Yum yum yum adulthood is yum

It's no longer assumed that someone in their twenties is an adult. At least for my race, class, and educational level, extended adolescence has become the norm for people pursuing their artsy dreams and experimenting with romantic partners who regularly destroy them emotionally. I went after these things hard for a while. I mean, I went to grad school. For screenwriting.

I am by no means out of the weeds of immaturity I've let grow over my life. But there comes a time when a person looks around them and says, "I feel like a real person right now." That happened to me recently when I bought a bed. Ok, so it's on back order and I probably won't get it until next July, but I bit the bullet and bought an actual bed frame. The six-year-old mattress and box spring combo I bought on the cheap in Koreatown, which I'd call a Full but it's actually a little smaller than a full, it's like just a janky little non-size, is going away, to be replaced by my roommate's six-year-old Queen sized mattress he bought for even less, but in a real bed frame! Someday! Probably!

Once I bought one thing that made me feel like an adult, I wanted to do it again. So I went out and spent a whopping 8 dollars on a wine.

Whoa!

Just saying what we were all thinking. Which was, whoa! Here's the wine I bought:

Do adults clean the smudges off their wine glasses oops guess not

Look how legit and French-looking it is! Famille Perrin's 2013 Reserve sounds fancy as fuck, but remember, Reserve doesn't really mean anything outside of a few places. I must say, this wine is twice as good as the four-dollar favs I've come to depend on. Bursting with aromas of blackberry preserves and plum, plus a little white pepper, this is a luscious wine with a long, spicy finish. It's a damn good wine which I might even share with my lovely boyfriend, who, I am proud to say, does not take pleasure in regularly stepping on my heart. I'm so grown up!

Wine + the World

Here are some cool things about the world:

-Sustains life. Excellent!
-There's boys there. (Hehehehe)
-It's where wine and puzzles are made, and my family is.
-Friendships happen here, as well.

No wonder there's science and that Louis Armstrong song! The world is so cool. But what happens when worlds collide? Well, according to movies, usually not the best of stuff. So you can understand Whitney's apprehension when tasting the 2013 Clos Cibonne, a wine that combines the best of Old World and New World flavors:

As you know, I am a huge fan of the tastings at Silverlake Wine. I recently dragged dear treasure Whitney Ralls to one of their incredible Sunday tastings. The theme: France. The food: heavenly sandwiches and pastries from Proof Bakery. Our attire: crisp summer frocks which nearly wilted on the walk and were immediately replaced with light pajama-wear when we got back to my house (sterling, intelligent conversation was replaced by me bullying her into watching Bachelor in Paradise). The standout wine: Clos Cibonne.

I also got a new puzzle :)

This wine moonlights as a Wes Anderson title sequence.

The taste-master (great term I just invented) told us all about this special wine, which comes out every year to varying degrees of success. It's always good, but some years it is WOW. 2013 was one of those years. The reason for this is it's made from an uncommon and temperamental grape, Tibouren. Tibouren is a lighter and more sensitive grape than some of its other South-of-France buddies. The color of the wine is more transparent than others typical of the region, but still with a richness to it. The result is a stunning, ruby red wine with exceptional clarity. 

But wines, unlike humans, can't be judged by their appearance. Our taste-master told us this was wine for wine geeks, a grape for people who are really into grapes. But on the palate, this is a crowd-pleaser. A jock, if you will. A jock with a sense of humor and a guitar. On the nose there's a nice Old World funk to it, as well as a chocolate-y aroma. But give it a swirl and you get red cherry and raspberries, like a classic Pinot Noir. Taste it and in addition to those fruits, a strawberry rhubarb quality and a flat cola vibe accompany the earthy flavors. The result is a juicy yet down-to-earth wine that combines Old World aromatics with New. Pair this wine with almost anything, particularly a rich and salty but still oh-so-light ham and cheese croissant from Proof Bakery. It is truly out of this world.

And while you're at it, combine some other old world and new world traditions. Like women and voting. Pumpkins and Times Square. Interesting art from various ancient Chinese dynasties and bras. Cappuccino and potato chips NO NOT THAT EVER CHAD SCOTT MUST BE STOPPED, MY FLAVOR SUGGESTIONS WERE BETTER, THAT IS WHY I AM COMBINING REVOLUTION AND POTATO CHIPS LET US RISE UP AGAINST THE EVIL THAT IS THE CAPPUCCINO CHIP. I TRIED ONE TINY BITE AND PUT THE REST DOWN, IT WAS THE WORST BITE OF MY LIFE!!!!!!

Guys... his bio. That background photo. His follower count. Also he challenged the other flavor finalists to the ice bucket challenge and they ignored him and it's so great. My flavor suggestions included Miso and Paella. You know, delicious salty foods that actually make sense as a chip???

Ok. Phew. Time to calm down. Maybe I need just one more teensy tiny half glass of Clos Cibonne... Yes, I can see that I am all worked up over these damn chips and that ought to remedy things quite nicely. Goodnight!

Cool how this $3 wine is dope

Blackberry, black cherry, raspberry, plus a little tobacco, earth. 3 FUCKING DOLLARS BRO.

California confusion

Lots happening this week in the world of wine. Like a houseguest!

James Isbell came to town and with him he brought tales from Google, lots of good vibes and a beautiful bottle of Cabernet:

This Cab was ripe and burst-y like Ellen Burstyn with plenty of classic Cabernet blackberry and black cherry flavors, plus pepper and leather. Its earthiness, which as you know I've been on a quest for, reminded me of a slightly disappointing wine I'd brought to a Golden Globes party the Sunday prior:

Black Mountain Pinot Noir was plenty tasty. It just wasn't what I was looking for in a Pinot Noir. Pinots are supposed to be light bodied with notes of red cherry and red meat and cola and earth. But this guy rocked raspberry and vanilla above all else. Wtf? Then I remembered another California Pinot Noir I tasted and realized I was starting to see a pattern (this is a real link. I get that I burned you with that Google one but this one is real). These were great wines, but not in the ways I was looking for in a Pinot Noir.

Another accidental gif! How am I doing this?! I think taking many pictures of the same person in the same place in a row? I'm literally magic. Also check out Kate's Olivia Pope wine glasses! I am told by people who watch television program "Scandal" that this is impressive! This is a long caption!

Ok, back to business. I didn't even realize I was buying the same brand when I picked up this Zinfandel:

I simply took Paul's suggestion that he often finds earth (and spice and smoke, his favorite aromatics in a wine) in California Zins. And now I see it. Now I see why Zinfandel is California's grape. And just like I can eat pizza here and tacos in New York but they aren't gonna be as good, I get why a great five dollar wine can only be found in the local wheelhouse.

Because this wine doesn't just suit my savory-minded style. No, this guy is layered as hell, combining Old World and New World aromatics for a full, fruity, leathery, peppery wine. Raspberry, blackberry, green and black pepper, leather, tobacco on the nose. A rich jamminess, a little caramel and smoke on the palate but not too sweet. Our other roommate David made a heavenly tomato jam this weekend and it reminds me of that, with its balance of sweetness, acid and layers on layers of spice. All this Old World prestige and New World bounty for I think it was 5 or 6 bucks? It's safe to say Black Mountain 2012 Zinfandel is one I'll be buying again.

Wine crush part III: try a little tenderness

I've been known to occasionally compare wine to love, and one of my favorite topics is wine crushes, both requited and unrequited. Last week, I learned I'm predictable when it comes to my palate, favoring earthy wines above others. One of the recommended grapes on my chart was Sangiovese, so I took to my local Trader Joe's in search of a bottle. I'd tried Grifone's Primitivo to decent results, so I figured I'd give their equally cheap (4 bucks!), also charmingly labeled (sleek!) Sangiovese a try to celebrate finishing my puzzle (1000 pieces in 8 days!).

My first sip was a huge disappointment. Apparently that powerful aroma of mulch and leather and other things that should never be liquid is only found in expensive wines? But I hated to give in to that idea. So I tried a little tenderness. I sniffed with the wine still. I swirled. I dug deep into that wine, probing and nuzzling and pondering until I detected some earthy notes. Sure, it was mostly fruit. But there was more, too. Even if it wasn't really there, I found something special in that four-dollar fountain of truth.

"You could build a city in the forgotten spaces between things." This line from Jennifer Egan's "Look At Me" is one of my favorites. It's written on half an index card and hung over my desk, right beneath a framed photo of a koala and next to a bottle of scotch (my spirit animals). It helps me remember to notice the little things, and the non-things, and the feeling things we've been too successful in forgetting. It reminds me that the things we fail to notice and the things we fail to imagine are the same, which means that like the things we do notice, that which we imagine is real.

Is this wine good? Or is its sleek label on the green bottle, its being made out of a grape I was sure I'd love, its price tag so temptingly low that I found a way to like it? And if I savor it, if I build aromatics in the forgotten space between sips, does it really matter?

Oh I fancy huh

It may shock some of you to learn that these posts aren't all that official. Like the Schouten Feelings Standard has yet to be adopted by sommeliers worldwide. Lame. For fun, I thought I'd share a proper tasting note I did last spring for my wine class. It also allows me to brag about the one time I drank a wine that cost more than $20 (thanks, Dad). True tasters will evaluate wines the same way every time, taking down each detail from price to palate. This allows them to compare wines efficiently, even if they haven't tasted a particular wine in a while.

Below my tasting note (after the terribly framed photo. Thanks, self) is an explanation of how to draw each of these official, non-feelings-based conclusions. Even if you don't plan to ever make a proper tasting note, these tips will help you evaluate wine wherever you are and whatever your price point. Because engaging our senses is fun! Speaking of fun, quick puzzle update, I am TEARING THROUGH this thing even without a box top so I don't know what it looks like. It's a great puzzle full of twists and turns and things are going really well between us.

Francis Ford Coppola Director's Cut 2011 Merlot
Sonoma County, CA
$20.99, 13.5% ABV

Appearance: A normal red wine in the glass. Only the tiniest bit transparent, mostly opaque. Ruby red with a little purpley-blue.

Nose: Earth aromas of forest floor and oak alongside black cherry, blackberry and smoke. A little caramel, coconut and cedar as well.

Palate: Dry wine with sweetness at the tip of the tongue. Fruit-forward with a little raspberry in addition to the black cherry and blackberry. Lots of earth and smoke here as well. Finish is medium to long, especially since the caramel and coconut really hang on the alcohol. Both acidity and tannins and low to medium, and the quality of the tannins are smooth and round.

Conclusion: I'd call this wine layered but not complex. It is straightforward in its many aromatics, which hit fruit and earth and winemaking right on the head. To enhance the smoke, pair with grilled meats in a lighter marinade or chipotle-spiced tacos.

Tasting note breakdown

Heading: Here you will provide all practical information about the wine. If wine tasting is like dating (which I have already told you it is), this is where you get the basic details: height, job, dopeness of hairstyle.

Appearance: Unlike in dating, here the appearance is the least important factor in determining anything about anything. A few clues, however, can give us potential insight into a wine's age, style and grape varietal, but all must be confirmed by other factors. A quick swirl can help you determine the body of the wine. Unless a wine is high in sugar and alcohol, like port, which will move more slowly, it should be in the normal range.

When I say age, I mean age for that wine. A Cabernet may be too young to drink even after a few years, while a Sauvignon Blanc should be consumed quickly and will start to look old perhaps after only 18 months. Red wines get lighter with age while white wines get darker. A young red wine will have a purpley-blue tone that reaches all the way to the edge of the liquid when the glass is tipped slightly, while over time the color will move toward a translucent rust-brown color. White wines will be clear and bright in youth, then they'll brown over time. But a good Pinot Noir is often transparent, and a beautiful Amarone will be brown-ish in color even when young. And you may prefer an older wine. I sometimes do. Young wines will yield more fruit-forward flavors. Older wines develop what is known as a "bottle bouquet" and have weirder, more complex, tertiary flavors in play.

This is also the time to notice sediment or petillance. Sediment is extremely rare and usually a good thing. Most wine now is fined and filtered, expect for old or fancy or super organic wines. So before you send a sediment-y wine back, consider how expensive it is. Seriously. The more expensive, the more likely that sediment is supposed to be there. What you believe is sediment may also be tartrates, a natural byproduct of tartaric acid, which is the acid from grapes. Not an issue. Petillance is common in delicate whites. If you see it in a red that's not supposed to sparkle, it could be a sign of bad things. Ask your server for their opinion.

Nose: Contrary to popular belief, you should not immediately swirl your wine. You'll actually pick up a different set of aromatics when a wine is still and right after it's been swirled. So give it a good sniff and make some notes before swirling. Then spin and get your nose up in there again. Cool, right? The incomparable Shelby Ledgerwood gave us a neat tip for helping to determine what we're smelling: start broad then narrow it down. So start with citrus, then consider what kind and even what form. Fresh grapefruit. Lemon curd. Dried orange peel. Start with earth, then narrow that down: dirt, leather, tobacco, horse. I don't always get all the way there (see: "earth" in every post I've ever written), but it makes trying less intimidating.

Palate: The same as nose, plus more! You may get slightly different aromatics on the palate (known as "in-mouth aromatics"). To help with that, hold the wine in your mouth and suck a little air in through your teeth. You'll get a little slurping noise. The air coming in helps you activate your nose, which is where tasting really happens. Our mouths only taste sweet, salty, bitter, sour and umami. Everything else is scent. Here you'll evaluate those taste elements (dry wine or sweet, how dry and how sweet?). Salty wines don't really exist, but some super fresh whites will be so dry they'll seem salty, as you'll salivate a lot after drinking them. Bitterness comes from tannin. The tannin level will inform your serving and pairing suggestions (which will come in the conclusion). Fats cut tannins, and bitter foods like greens boost the bitterness. Most wines do NOT need to be decanted or oxygenated or let to breathe. Only super tannic wines require this, so don't pour out your reds automatically. Taste first, pour second. The acidity and finish are also evaluated here. I'm terrible at evaluating acidity. I think it's like determined by the sides of your tongue? And how dry your mouth is after? Sorry, bros. The finish is how long the flavors persist on the palate. 2-4 seconds is short, 5-8 is medium, 9+ is long. A classic "one Mississippi, two Mississippi..." in your head will do.

Conclusion: Here is where you evaluate anything you want about the wine. The value for it's price, what to serve with it, when to drink it, how it compares to other wines of its varietal and/or region. It seems like a good spot for some feelings, but a true taster will be using an objective system. It's not about if you like it, it's about the structure, nose, and quality of the wine. I tend to do a little of each. I try to evaluate first objectively, then in terms of how much I like it. This allows me to determine the kinds of wines I like to drink. So at this point, even without my recent discovery that I'm embarrassingly predictable, I know I enjoy a murky, dirty, Old World-style wine. Give proper tasting a try. At the very least, you'll have taken a moment out of your drinking to engage the senses. If that's not the best form of meditation, I don't know what is.

Adventures in wine tasting and how it turns out I'm totally predictable

As I mentioned last week, I signed up for this HuffPo-certified wine club. The first thing they do in this club is send you mini bottles of wine. You taste those, and your reactions to them creates a taste profile that helps Lot18 send you wines you'll like. This weekend I got my tasting kit and learned a very important lesson:

Wine tasting is exactly like dating.

As a 27-and-a-half-year-old woman of the modern era with breasts and minimal shyness, I've had the opportunity to date a lot. I'm not one of these people who likes going on dates. I admire those people. I really do. I wish I could be like them. But for me, dates are all about anxiety. Will he like me? Will I like him? Will he like me but I don't like him and then I'll blow him off totally gracelessly and rack up even more bad romantic karma? Will I be honest, like everyone tells you to be, only to be known as a bitch forevermore (the guaranteed consequence of honesty, by the way. I've determined there are only two ways to tell someone you're not interested that will spare their feelings and yours: say you've decided to be exclusive with someone else, or just ignore them entirely and let them assume you died. Lying and disappearing may seem immature, because they are, but they're also the easiest and kindest way to go about things. No one wants to hear the truth. Anyone who says they do is lying. People want to hear they're great and that is all).

What got me thinking about all this, besides the fact that I'm a human being, was my tasting kit. Lot18 gives you six wines, two whites and four reds, along with basic tasting instructions (that are woefully incomplete), and a piece of paper to put your glasses on which makes it seem like they had some extra glossy card stock lying around because why. I was so excited to get deep into my nuanced reactions to each wine so as to create a specific profile for my taste buds and then receive wine each month catered to my very whims.

So you can imagine my disappointment when the only questions about the two white wines were: which did you like better? How much more, a lot or a little? And that was it. How are you supposed to tell anything about my tastes just from that??

Another disappointment was the wines themselves: Ten Sisters 2011 Sauvignon Blanc from New Zealand and Finial 2011 Chardonnay from Sonoma. I get what they did here: gave me the two main families of white wine, buttery and tart. And while each wine did a fine job representing its typicity (meaning what wines of that grape and region tend to taste like), neither was particularly exciting. The Sauvignon Blanc had a mineral quality and tartness, but without the burst of grapefruit and green apple I expect, especially from Marlborough. The Chardonnay was pure buttered popcorn and baked red apple, which might be nice for a Chardonnay but just isn't for me. I didn't really like either wine, but didn't want to get sent a bunch of Chardonnay, so I said I liked the Sauvignon Blanc much better. Sort of like when a friend sets you up with an actress and a doctor, and you don't like either, but since everyone in LA loves to hate on actresses, you say prefer the doctor for future reference. But you sleep with the actress because, I mean, of course. Like I wasn't going to not drink the Chardonnay. There was perfectly good alcohol in there. End of the whites.

I moved on to the reds expecting more bland typicity and unrevealing questions. Voila 2009 Pinot Noir from California was next, and it had the basic earth and fruit balance of a California Pinot, some berries, fruitier than its European counterparts but still a bit savory. It was fine. And just as I started to worry that maybe it was me, maybe I was too picky, maybe I'd never find a wine I could truly love because I didn't love myself, I took a whiff of the Nebbiolo. And, as it turns out...

Everyone has a type.

Ordine di San Giuseppe 2011 Nebbiolo d'Alba is a star. Licorice and dirt and blackberry and leather and pepper and WOW. And I hadn't even tasted it. On the palate this wine was super tannic but still velvety and weird and wonderful. Now, here's the thing. I've tasted Nebbiolo maybe twice in my life. So even if this is typical, it's new to me. Here's the other thing: I don't care. This is exactly the kind of wine I like. Which made me realize that this, too, could be a basic, typical wine. But when you find your type, to you, it's new and electrifying, even if it's just like all the other wines you've tried or people you've dated because there's a reason you keep going back. It's chemical.

I go back and forth with online dating. I was off for about four months but I recently reactivated my profile. When you do this, all your old messages pop back up. Some of the users have since left the site, but if they're still on it, but some are still around, looking for love. I logged in and found most of the messages were from users who were no longer active. But there was one chain with a guy I'd been messaging back and forth with quite a bit, who I seem to have been pretty into. Too bad I left the site. It seems like we could have dated. But I'm not too worried about what might have been, because, you see, we did.

About a month after I left the world of internet love, I met this guy in real life. We dated for six weeks or so, and then just stopped calling each other. While we were perfect on paper, I think we both realized the spark wasn't there. That's how I felt, anyway. I have no idea why he just disappeared, the bastard. And I know he didn't just die because I ran into him since then. He was on a date. She looked a lot like me.

In our messages, this guy talks about his new favorite place in LA. We went there on our second date. We discuss our favorite books. We did it again in real life. I had no clue when we met or throughout the relationship that we'd had this correspondence. If he did, he didn't let on. Remember, my profile disappeared when I deactivated my account, so he wouldn't have had the pictures for reference anymore. But this wasn't fate. This was too banal for fate. This was just the inevitability of two people who were each others' types. When you find someone or something whose qualities you're predetermined to like, you're gonna like them, no matter how typical.

There were a couple other wines, Letterpress Red Blend (I think, this wine needs a far less confusing label) and Fortuna 2010 Cabernet Sauvignon from Paso Robles. They were solid but nothing compared to the novel Nebbiolo. More typicity at work. I answered the shockingly few questions dutifully and received my profile.

The whites profile was dumb. I mean, I compared two wines I didn't like without ever being allowed to point out that I liked neither. So I clicked to the reds, and was embarrassed to find...

They nailed it.

I mean they just got me. I'm just as typical and predictable as these wines! In only a few questions, I managed to be pegged for my exact tastes. I love Tempranillos. Earthy wines are my fav. I was just as fated to love the wine that was perfect on paper for me as I was inevitably going to date that guy.

I ended up canceling my membership when I saw the wines they planned to send me. Until they expand their inventory, it seems they'll be sending more of a sampler than wines tailored to the members' tastes as promised. I know what I like. But I also know that the most important thing is to be surprised. That element was lacking in my autumn courtship and exploded from my glass of Nebbiolo. Surprise doesn't mean dating or drinking against type. It just means that even if something is perfect on paper, it needs an x factor to put it over the edge. The scent of licorice. The subtle kiss of leather. Or really good sex.

Wine + nothing: a true lush's guide to wine pairing

Wine is amazing and also terrifying. Wine combines a beautiful history with fascinating science with a treasure hunt of sensations (aromatics! Tannins! Mouth-feel!) with getting rosy-cheeked and uninhibited. The problem is that when you don’t know every detail about all of this stuff, you can feel like wine is like that exclusive foursquare game the cool girls in third grade started where they said they had a rule of “no lines” so only the four of them could play but then when one of them was sick and you asked if now you could join they said they didn’t feel like playing foursquare today and you wanted to die a petite and horrible third grade death. So you pretend you don’t care about foursquare or mouth-feel because you’re not in the club.

Nothing creates this feeling of inadequacy more than wine pairings. I’ve taken wine classes. I have a little confidence. But when it comes to pairing wine with food, I’m usually at a bit of a loss, because the rules are full on bullshit. Ideally, you’re supposed to open up a few bottles and taste each with the food. I’m sorry, but who has the cash for that? Who has the food all ready to go before wine pouring time? And who’s throwing a dinner party at our age where it’s not up to the guests to bring beverages? This “ideal” situation is fraught.

So here’s my solution: don’t pair wine with food. Pair wine with feelings.

Are you feeling anxious? Calm down with something rich and red to dive into, like Syrah or Cabernet or Don Draper making you jam. Sweaty? I don’t care if you’re serving beef, you need a crisp Sauvignon Blanc to cool down. Already pretty drunk? Low-alcohol, mega refreshing Lambrusco is the way to go.

Pairing wine with feelings is most important when you’re not serving it with anything at all. Here I think it’s fair to make some hard and fast rules that you should totally break depending on your mood, what you like to drink, and what you have on hand/know how to open.

Official wine pairing rule: Serve red wine with red meat.

Wine + feelings rule: Serve red wine with rain.

Rain inspires either grouchy or poetic feelings. Either way, with both hands on your glass and your nose deep in it, sink into the murkiest, earthiest red you can find (if you have only one bottle of wine in your home, this qualifies) and read “Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban” again because—controversial statement alert—it is the best one by far.

Official wine pairing rule: Serve white wine with fish or vegetables.

Wine + feelings rule: Serve white wine after sex.

Let me set the scene here. You were funny and cool at dinner. Your partner was right there with you. Dinner progressed to your place which progressed to yesssssss. Now you’re thinking the water/cuddle/dream sharing aspect could be extended by sharing a glass or a bottle. You gulp your wine, thirsty from your coital adventures, feasting on the other person’s descriptions of when they knew they liked you. You throw back your head and let out a throaty, ultra-charming laugh and in the light from the bedside lamp, your hair is tousled and your neck is swan-like and your ears are a delicate arabesque and your teeth… are bright f-ing red. If you’re drinking fast and not eating and up close and personal, stick to white.

Official wine pairing rule: Don’t serve wine that’s been open for more than a day.

Wine + feelings rule: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA what am I a sultan? A sultan made of wine? Yeah no I’m def drinking this.

Official wine pairing rule: Make sure the acidity of the wine is higher than the acidity of the food.

Wine + feelings rule: Don’t drink wine before dropping acid. Let the acid kick in first, then decide how you feel.

Official wine pairing rule: High tannin wine like Cabernet needs to be cut with something fatty like steak, and will taste bitter if served with salad or other greens.

Wine + feelings rule: Don’t feel guilty about enjoying a glass of wine, or ordering the cheapest bottle on the menu, or not knowing the history of barrel making. It will make your experience bitter and fruitless. Enjoy yourself. A little treat and the pleasure it gives you is lovelier than all the fad diets and wine books in the world. Also, if you drink wine and eat salad, you are a straight up French person and I would like to be your friend.

But really, the only rule that matters when tasting and pairing and drinking and learning about wine is to have fun. Actually, additional rule, have enough cheap stemware that you can be super gracious if someone breaks a glass. Because there’s nothing that doesn’t go with being a lovely hostess.

(still super into this graphic which i made with my own treasured hands)

wine + meditation

I took a break from wine classes this quarter to try a meditation class. I'm constantly multi-tasking and believe this is leading to additional stress and anxiety in my life. I've also heard meditation can improve focus for people with ADD, and I'm weaning off my meds. So this seemed like a good move, even if it meant taking a break from organized drinking.

During our first class, we tried meditative eating. The instructor stretched out a single grape into a seven minute guided meditation. She had us consider the soil it came from, the work it took to grow the grape and to get it to the store, the texture of the grape, the smell and, finally, the taste. Focusing all my energy on this one grape was illuminating. Not only did it elevate the experience of eating, it also allowed me to appreciate the grape on a level I never thought possible.

Naturally, it wouldn't be long before I was doing this with wine.

I opened a nice bottle (Francis Ford Coppola Director's Cut 2011 Merlot), poured myself a glass and meditated on the wine before me. I thought it would be a wonderful experience.

I was super fucking right.

Our image of the solo drinker is a sad one. Some guy in a bar whining to the barkeep, a girl with vodka in a water bottle tucked beneath her pillow to cope at night. But in these scenarios, the drinking itself is never the purpose. It's the forgetting, the catharsis, the emotional numbing.

But meditative drinking, like meditative eating, proved to be a spiritual experience because the attention was on the act itself. Focusing on the weight of the glass in my hand, the color of the wine (it helps that burgundy is my second favorite color, after gold. And gold is sort of the color of white wine. So.), everyone who put time and effort into the process of growing the grapes and making the wine, everyone who helped in the discovery and refining of these techniques. The smell, and my breath as I exhaled, the purposeful breathing that smelling is, the marvel of smelling at all. Evolutionarily, smell is basically obsolete for humans. It now has no purpose but pleasure, really. The nose can be the clitoris of the face, if you let it. Finally, the taste, and not just the taste, but the way the wine made my mouth feel. The wonder of salivating.

The last parts, the look and smell and taste, I realized, are nothing more than a tasting note. And THEN I realized, I did a tasting note of this wine for class last quarter, and had it saved but not published under the title "oh I fancy huh" because I so rarely drink wine over $8! (this was a 5 cent wine sale splurge, hence the two bottles). In addition to this wholly whimsical post, below please find a proper tasting note for your future reference/pretension.

Finally, I wondered if I might enjoy bringing a meditative experience to more activities. So before I wrote this post, I took a moment and rested my hands on my keyboard, appreciating the opportunity to write and communicate and add purpose to my consumption of beverages. It, too, was truly wonderful.

I understand that I sound like quite a dick.

I'm going to go meditate on that.

Francis Ford Coppola Director's Cut 2011 Merlot
Sonoma County, CA
$20.99, 13.5% ABV

Appearance: A normal red wine in the glass. Only the tiniest bit transparent, mostly opaque. Ruby red with a little purpley-blue.

Nose: Earth aromas of forest floor and oak alongside black cherry, blackberry and a smoke. A little caramel, coconut and cedar as well.

Palate: Dry wine with sweetness at the tip of the tongue. Fruit-forward with a little raspberry in addition to the black cherry and blackberry. Lots of earth and smoke here as well. Finish is medium to long, especially since the caramel and coconut really hang on the alcohol. Both acidity and tannins and low to medium, and the quality of the tannins are smooth and round.

Conclusion: I'd call this wine layered but not complex. It is straightforward in its many aromatics, which hit fruit and earth and winemaking right on the head. To enhance the smoke, pair with grilled meats in a lighter marinade or chipotle tacos.

I'm alive!

Been a delinquent poster lately, but don't worry, I'm still keeping it very fresh all the time.

Yeah those are emergency jugs of water in the background. They've come with me on my last two moves, they're sure as shit coming on this one. And yeah, this is a KICKASS LIBRARY BOOK that i read most of in a day. That day was yesterday. Pick up a copy. It's straight up thrilling.

Remember to keep even your red wine in the fridge during these muggy summer months! Leaving it on the counter can mean losing out on aromas and even causing wine to go bad. Take red wine out of the fridge an hour before serving.

I'll hopefully be back in the swing of things and blogging regularly soon. I know my tens of readers miss me desperately, and I miss you all, too! Not emotionally. Just like... we don't miss each other, do we? k bye

Love this!

A fantastic little cheat sheet!

Celebrity wines

Ok, I get that I can't have a celebrity body, in any interpretation of that phrase. I get that I can't have a celebrity lifestyle. But when they make a wine? Well, the Coppolas have made it clear I can at least have that.

But oh no. Brad and Angie have to win this one. You can imagine my excitement when I saw this in my inbox:

Followed by my utter disappointment when I clicked the link and this popped up:

I mean fuck you! I know it sold out back in March, but I thought this was my chance! Then I found out that wine distributors like Shelby Ledgerwood were buying it all up. When asked if she'd tried it, Shelby said she didn't have to. Everyone wanted it, even without her opinion, so she just sold it off. Why waste a bottle? 

I think it's kind of unfair that celebrities get to have wine we can't have on top of everything else. Which means there's only one thing to do: saturate the market for celebrity wine. Below are some suggestions I have for some new celebrity wines:

Heidi Montag California 2009 Red Blend

This full bodied wine is a mish-mash of all your favorite reds. Heady aromas of strawberry and petrol entice you to take a sip, at which point you don't like it but you can't quite articulate why. It should be great, but it's a petty, ugly little wine.

Carrot Top 2011 Rose

Brilliant pink color with slight petillance. Bright and acidic with angular, precise aromas of tangerine and meth. A fine, drinkable rose perfect for wasting an entire afternoon.

Dame Judy Dench Grand Cuvee

This dusty but magnificent sparkling wine goes with everything. Stern and delightfully fungal with notes of gooseberry and flint. A treasure.

Carson Daly 1998 Cabernet Sauvignon

A star vintage that declined in the early 2000s and is now picking up an extraordinary bottle bouquet of perfume and peppy rose petal aromatics. The wine that just won't quit.

I bought Kelis' pants

Sometimes wine makes you want to stay in and curl up with Netflix and try to forget about the human condition.

Other times it makes you buy Kelis' pants.

Ok, so I'm not trying to brag, but I literally did buy Kelis' pants. If you don't believe me, ask Kelis. The same way she asked me to get her another glass of wine when I bargained with her for the pants by saying I was too poor to be here, I was only there because my friend is a waitress at Bar Marmont and oh yeah, KELIS WAS HAVING A FULL-ON YARD SALE AT BAR MARMONT. And I bought her pants. These are they:

I can't decide if I might like them to be shorts instead. Thoughts are welcome.

Anyway, I was thrilled with the La Granja 360 2011 Tempranillo (the one with the pig on the label in the Spanish section at Trader Joe's). I mean THRILLED. Normally, that in and of itself would have constituted a proper night. Never mind that with its fruit and earth, juicy red rapsberry, cherry and strawberry grounded in tremendous forest floor and peet moss and greenery, this stuff was made to pair with comfort food and takeout (moo-shu pork is its soulmate; a complex mac and cheese its dirty little secret on the side. Either way, a match made in heaven).

So yes, I would have been good with just this, a cheap, wonderful wine.

But you know what else is super fucking good? BUYING KELIS' PANTS. God I wish I didn't have so much self respect and would demand celebs take pictures of me with them and their pants. I really should have documented the transaction. I hate my self (respect).

The point is, leaving the house is sometimes also good. It's important to appreciate life's simple pleasures, to embrace solitude instead of whining about loneliness. But it's also important to interact with the world. I know this is obvious to most people, but for me, it's so much easier to stay home in sweats with my great, cheap wine than it is to put on a bra and be a real person.

Being a real person is hard. You have to listen to the opinions of others and be judged unfavorably by dudes at bars and calculate tips with your phone-brain and it's just a lot of effort. Conversations about other people's lives make you think about your own. Being face to face with men (it still counts if you stare awkwardly at the guy's shoes or a spot on the wall to the left of his head because of confidence issues) reminds you that you are not getting any younger or hotter or sex. Much better to stay in, put on "Dancing on My Own" and text your bestie until you fall asleep or her boyfriend is all, "stop texting, Julia. Ali is never going to not have an over-dramatically urgent joke to tell you about her new theories on her recent weight gain (parasites). She is destroying our relationship. JK our relationship is amazing and a beacon of hope for all single people everywhere."*

Most of the time I go out, I wish I hadn't. I get my hopes up that tonight will be the night where everybody dances and the only drunk snack I have at the end of the night is a diet coconut water and also that that exists now and I'll meet a great guy and bond with a million friends with whom I've lost touch and my shoes will feel great all night. And those hopes are dashed so hard. So, so hard.

But last night, I bought Kelis' pants. And while moo-shu might be the soulmate of this wine, these pants are the soulmate of my legs.

So it's probably all worth it. It's probably worth it to keep hoping about everything, just in case.

Try La Granja Tempranillo. And occasionally, try leaving the house. It's not always the worst.

Oh, and in case you doubted it:

*Paraphrased from what I imagine to be conversations had by my favorite couple in the world.**
**Disney couples excluded because they are almost all imaginary.

Karber's Korner

Greg is back! Also, he is now famous. Like actually. This post is literally dripping with priceless, priceless fame. #fitchthehomeless



GREG KARBER’S 2ND-PERSON EXPERIENCES OF BEING TOO DRUNK ON RED WINE
EPISODE 2: PASSOVER


You have been invited by a friend to your third Passover. (You are a Gentile.) You are very excited.

You are also running late, and have yet to find a bottle of kosher red wine. They do not sell it at the local convenience store, which is your go-to wine provider. So you travel up Silver Lake and find a place that sells twenty dollar bottles. This is four times your typical bottle budget, but you buy two so you don’t seem cheap.

Your friend drives you to the Passover party. To protect the innocent, let us call this friend “Caitlin.” Caitlin insists on showing up on time. She gives you a hard time for making her wait a few minutes in her car because she showed up too early to pick you up. She drives you to the party, on time, and you are the first to arrive by a good half hour.

This gives you an opportunity to get a head start on drinking.

You have forgotten that the Passover ceremony itself involves drinking at least four glasses of wine. You have also forgotten that the kosher-for-Passover food isn’t exactly the stuff you stuff yourself with (except for the charoses, which are always delicious).

And you have forgotten to eat a snack before you came.

To make matters worse, Caitlin is under the impression that she should refill anyone’s glasses should they get empty. This results in a severe miscalculation of alcohol consumption which leads to be a debate over whether the Easter Bunny is a religious character (he most definitely is). (editor's note: he most definitely is not. I will fight you on this one forever)

Fortunately, Caitlin drives you home.

Your roommate isn’t home, but your downstairs neighbor is. You are lonely, so you go downstairs and hang out while he watches The Office. Despite having seen this episode before, the jokes do not make sense. You excuse yourself with a sophisticated, “I’ll be right back." You stand and stumble out the front door.

You make it to the sidewalk, where you vomit red wine. Then you puke in some bushes. Then you climb the stairs to your apartment, vomit a third time in the toilet, and fall asleep on the floor.

You were never right back.

But as a First Born, you were happy just to wake up in the morning.

Come on, Karber. Look at you. You sure you're not even Jew-ish?

Primitive needs

The Grifone 2011 Primitivo met my needs.

Cheap (4 dollars!), tasty (Primitivo is the same grape as Zinfandel, only Italian) and it has enough acid to pair well with my go-to meal: pasta (cheap and tasty!).

But that wasn't all this wine did for me. Oh, no. It had a pretty cork and an elegant orange label. It had a rich color and a versatile set of aromatics (spice, earth, a pinch of vanilla from the oak, some red and black cherry--what can't you pair this with? Donuts. Never pair wine with donuts). It wasn't too heavy for a balmy summer evening. It wasn't too light for the thick feelings I was having. IT WAS FOUR FUCKING DOLLARS.

And it got me thinking about other primitive needs. No, not sex. I'm a lady. We don't know what that is. I started thinking about food and drink and the way they nourish us beyond the physical.

Because I realized this wine would pair perfectly with my favorite thing in the world:

Bertucci's Brick Oven Pizza.

I understand that this is a chain restaurant. I get that there are probably more technically perfect pizzas out there. But I can't think of it without my mouth watering and I can't eat it without complete satisfaction. You know when you crave something and then you have it and it can't live up to the craving? That has never happened to me with Bertucci's brick oven pizza. It's only on the east coast, but I've seriously considered opening an LA franchise.

Here's a photo of me when my dad surprised me with a visit, after telling me Annapolis didn't have Bertucci's:

I was that happy with every single bite of my pizza.

The need here isn't the pizza, although I want some desperately now that I'm remembering how perfect in every single way it is. The need is the certainty, the nostalgia, the consistent loveliness, the way it never lets me down. The need of comfort food is primitive. It is the solace we find in tradition and memory and the familiar taste and texture of what we can count on to love. 

Like cheap red wine that tastes fantastic.

Like a DIY manicure that looks f-ing amazing and is on my fingers currently. Ok, so that's a stretch. I just want to show off:

FYI the bits on my fingers are gone now, they washed off, it's all clean lines now so it is even better.

A great blog that isn't mine

They exist! Obviously. This is a tonally uneven marriage between a sad person's Instagram and the diary of a lesser Kardashian.

Check out The Reverse Wine Snob. Fantastic reviews for all us aspiring oenophiles who don't have the cash to support fancy drinking habits. And he takes recommendations, which I feel like is the 21st century version of having a court taster for the king. Only this guy tries cheap wine before you do and makes sure it's good enough to impress people at dinner parties. Which is basically 30% of the point of wine, as illustrated below:

Follow Jon on Twitter for the newest and tastiest reviews!

Melville Vineyards: all about honesty

Last night I had the pleasure of hearing Chad Melville of Melville Vineyards speak about his winemaking process. Only, Chad eschews the word "winemaker." He views himself instead as a "wine grower." Chad and his family do as little winemaking as possible, relying on Mother Nature for most of the flavor. Melville favors whole cluster fermentation and stem inclusion whenever possible, which adds earthy, green tannins to their reds. Their Chardonnay isn't aged in new oak or buttered up with malolactic fermentation. They only use old oak barrels, which allow the wine to breath and come into contact with the environment more than steel, but don't impart that heavy flavor of new oak. The result is a crisp, acidic, mineral-y Chardonnay that more closely resembles a Sauvignon Blanc than the grape my grandmother drinks. Chad understands that stem inclusion makes wines "less approachable." But he feels it is important to make wine entirely rooted in the land, with as little outside influence as possible. He even makes wine with wild, local yeast!

To my further surprise and delight, despite the fact that Melville doesn't use pesticides and does everything right, they don't tout their sustainable status. Chad hates the word organic! Yes! He says it no longer means anything. Ok, so we hate the word for slightly different reasons (I don't like a word that makes me feel guilty for spending less on toilet paper. Believe me. I would like to be able to spend more on toilet paper). But still, a man after my own heart.

Perhaps the most refreshing thing about the talk, other than that Chardonnay, was when Chad discussed a question he often gets: "Are you guys trying to be Burgundy?" to which he replies, "We're not a cover band." Sure, he uses old world farming and winemaking techniques. He produces elegant, earthy, cool-climate wines that feel far more French than Californian, even though he's less than two hours away from LA. But the wines he and his family make (grow) are distinct, truly their own. They farm down to the tiniest plots of land, making different wines from different slivers of sections of a row of a vineyard. Where wild yeast is used, each fermenting tank is its own wine, because the yeast is random and will impart a distinct and additional set of aromatics on each tank.

So I would agree with Mr. Melville. He's not a winemaker. He is an artist.

Pick up a bottle of Melville Vineyards at The Wine House or better yet, have a visit!

Wine crush part II: if you can't be with the wine you love...

Get a fuckbuddy.

Or so I used to think.

This is a story of a wine crush. But this is not a love story. It's the sad story of a wine crush worse than unrequited, for I had a taste. And a taste of honey's worse than none at all.

A few months back at a dear friend's going away party, I had a truly marvelous Tempranillo at my favorite wine bar. It was earthy like nothing I'd ever tasted, but bursting with bright strawberry and raspberry flavors as well. It was a god-damn picnic in a glass. The party happened to be at my favorite (closest)(but also genuinely favorite) wine bar, which updates their wine list constantly. Btw, Britt P, I still owe you like 20 bucks from that night. We're overdue for me to pay it back in drinks. Hit me up, girl.

Anyway, by the time I realized I'd never get this wine off my mind, I didn't know the name of it. Just the grape. I was the Prince after the ball in Cinderella, only instead of a glass slipper, I had only a vague understanding of what I'd tasted and a limited vocabulary to describe it. I basically went back a few months later and was like, "hey, who was that girl I met at that really crowded party and her shoes were like clear or maybe black or maybe I actually didn't see her shoes maybe I'm talking about her glasses? I'm not sure she wore glasses. Can you just tell me if there were any hot girls at the party?" But there were a lot of hot girls at the party. Obviously. It's a party. Who would start a wine bar if they weren't going to have a ton of hot girl wine equivalents?

The cool thing about Tempranillos is they can be light and bright or murky and sexy or anywhere in between. Tempranillo is the chief grape in the Rioja region, where this crazy complex and gold laced treat is from. And like Spanish people, and people of all races, there is a lot of variety among them. Cause of not racism.

But I was a bit wine racist. I thought I could fill the hole in my heart left by my wine crush Tempranillo with some other Tempranillo. Behold, said other Tempranillo:

Ok, so pretty, right? And I gotta say, this wine was DTF. The Cala Blanca 2010 Tempranillo, which I picked up 2 bottles of at the 5 cent wine sale, is full of smoke and black cherry. It's not complicated; it's not messing around. It's here to fill a void and we both know it. It's not about remembering it in the morning. It's about not being alone tonight. I should probably date more.

As satisfying as it was in the moment, as strong and as powerful its more immediately appealing flavor was, it wasn't my wine crush. The next day I woke up feeling more alone than before, having not slept quite as well as I would with my true wine crush, and nowhere near as well as I would have slept alone (sober).

I guess what I'm realizing is, yes, if you can't be with the one you love, love the one you're with. But that one shouldn't be just anyone. It should be you, by yourself, appreciating your own slumber and adoring your own dreams until true love comes along. As good as this wine was, and it was good, it wasn't worth it. I should have held out.

And maybe so should the wine. If it were not an object completely controlled by my actions. But still, maybe it should have. Because on Sunday, I brought my second bottle to my writers group. And with its charming bottle design and lush fruit flavors, I swear, a couple of my friends started crushing on it.

There's a lid for every pot. Unless you lose the lid, like the lid gets in a car accident or meets a younger, hotter pot, but then it's still ok because you have a trump card to play every time someone else is complaining. But generally speaking from the hopeful depths of my heart, there's some-wine out there for everybody. Maybe there's even someone crushing on me, not in spite of the fact that I just said "some-wine," but because of it.

Opaque as fuck, man.

Wine + astrology

If there's one field more doubted than wine tasting, it's astrology. I spout off about aromas of wet stone and petrol and quince and even I don't really buy into it. To be fair, part of the reason I don't believe in astrology is because I decided to get into it at one point, got an online reading of my astrology and numerology, and was told my life is going to continue to be a disappointment until its early end. You know how psychics only ever give you good news? Internet astrologers don't have the same tact.

But on its most simple and fun level, astrology is all about character. And so is wine. Wines age. Wines have layers. As far as beverages go, they're pretty human. And so, knowing pretty much nothing about astrology but at least as much as the astrologist at Seventeen magazine, I thought I'd give recommend wines by star sign. Because that's the other thing drinking wine has in common with reading your horoscope: why not?

Aries

Characteristics: competitive, impulsive, independent, dynamic, quick-tempered, domineering, trusting, honest
Symbol: Ram
Element: Fire
Wine: A strong and spicy wine that steals the show with its bold, straightforward flavors. Try this 2009 Amitage Red Blend with steak and potatoes and saying it to their face. Maybe a little punching, too.

Taurus

Characteristics: patient, dependable, practical, determined, artistic, loyal, stubborn, self-indulgent
Symbol: Bull
Element: Earth
Wine: There's more to you than meets the eye, like the fact that you love the finer things in life even though you're down-to-earth. Pair yourself with something equally indulgent, complex, and stubbornly delicious like the Herederos Del Marques De Riscal 2006 Rioja Reserva. And the popcorn I paired it with isn't a bad idea for you either--air signs can lighten up earth signs, just like popcorn can help the flavors in this wine sing.

Gemini

Characteristics: curious, versatile, expressive, persuasive, changeable, clever, restless, talkative
Symbol: Twins
Element: Earth
Wine: I'm a Gemini. It's the easiest star sign to bullshit, because people just say, "oh, well there's two of you." So basically any personality trait goes. I say this is a wine wildcard. But since I'm bubbly, talkative, and will leave you with plenty of regrets in the morning, I'd say pick up some cheap champagne and pair it with this Miranda Lambert jam that just fucking gets it. I also like candies.

Cancer

Characteristics: tenacious, emotional, intuitive, sensitive, sympathetic, traditional, moody, manipulative
Symbol: Crab
Element: Water
Wine: Traditionally, white wine pairs well with shellfish, and this wine in particular brought on the waterworks when I drank (the whole bottle of) it. Get emotional with this hot little number, the 2010 Cut the Fluff.

Leo

Characteristics: dramatic, dignified, idealistic, ambitious, proud, generous, romantic, overbearing
Symbol: Lion
Element: Fire
Wine: To pair with that proud and dramatic personality, check out this properly bold 2011 Darkhorse Cabernet Sauvignon. Like the ideal Cabernet, it'll go well with your best home-cooked meal and some Passionate Feelings.

Virgo

Characteristics: Gentle, industrious, dependable, methodical, soft-spoken, humane, sincere, easily worried
Symbol: Virgin
Element: Earth
Wine: I was a virgin not so long ago. But I popped by Gewurztraminer cherry with this delicious one from Cupcake. Sweet and straightforward and downright delicious, this one could get even you talking. Pair it with Indian like I did, or a tart and earthy pear and goat cheese sandwich on hearty whole grain with a drop of honey and some afternoon friendship.

Libra

Characteristics: Cooperative, careful, artistic, persuasive, diplomatic, logical, indecisive, fickle
Symbol: Scales
Element: Air
Wine: If there's one person open-minded enough to judge Chardonnay, it's you. I've never reviewed one, but this Le Ferme Julien 2011 white blend with a hint of oak is a good place to start. And the fact that I paired it with The Voice, an exercise in excellent judgement (sometimes. Except when they eliminate people I like. They they are MONSTERS), is even more perfect!

Scorpio

Characteristics: Passionate, penetrating, private, resourceful, loyal, determined, temperamental, intolerant
Symbol: Scorpion
Element: Water
Wine: Hey, weirdo. I mean that in a good way. I find Scorpios to be weird of it and proud and super into astrology. They're kind of like Gemini, in that any personality trait goes. But here, instead of duplicity, the connotation is depth. This layered, passionate 2011 Boom Boom Syrah is delightfully confusing as well. Pair it with a stew as complex as your personality.

Sagittarius

Characteristics: Generous, honest, daring, friendly, confident, enthusiastic, argumentative, blunt
Symbol: Archer
Element: Fire
Wine: Well aren't you just sass and a half! Definitely cheerleader wine (2011 Callaway Sauvignon Blanc) for you. Take this wine to the beach, you little bitch, share it with your hot friends (because of course you have hot friends) and then crush it at drunk windsurfing.

Capricorn

Characteristics: Cautious, focused, responsible, serious, conventional, reliable, hardworking, unforgiving
Symbol: Goat
Element: Earth
Wine: Goats will eat anything. And someone this hardworking deserves to drink anything. Might I suggest this charming Merlot? It's nothing if not reliable...

Aquarius

Characteristics: Independent, tolerant, unpredictable, strong-willed, curious, perceptive, progressive, temperamental
Symbol: Water bearer
Element: Air
Wine: I bet you throw one hell of a party. I mean, that's what a modern-day water-bearer would do, right? So keep it as light and refreshing as your conversation with Reggiano Lambrusco Le Grotte, a super crowd-pleaser, and these blood mimosas you can make from it, which are unexpected and unparalleled.

Pisces

Characteristics: sensitive, compassionate, imaginative, adaptable, intuitive, idealistic, secretive, vulnerable
Symbol: Fish
Element: Water
Wine: The rich and bold Cocobon might seem a little fish-out-of-water (see what I did there?) for the quiet Pisces, but a bigger sweetheart of a wine there is not. Luscious and sensitive and full of secrets (the secrets are all that crazy mocha flavor), serve it with a box of chocolates and an evening of introspection.

But really, just taste all these wines. I mean, why not? They'll get you drunker than your horoscope.

Star sign info courtesy of infoplease.

Karber's Korner

My brilliant friend Greg asked if he could write the occasional guest post. I, not being an idiot who hates creativity, said yes. Check out more of Greg's kickass work here and here.

GREG KARBER’S 2ND-PERSON EXPERIENCES OF BEING TOO DRUNK ON RED WINE

EPISODE ONE:
THE MAGIC CASTLE

You are excited to go to The Magic Castle because it is a historic Los Angeles landmark, and also because of the strict dress code -- coat and tie for men, skirt or dress for women -- and also because of the almost certain guarantee that you will see a celebrity.

One of your friends knows a magician, and she got a pass that will get seven of you in. So you carpool and leave your friend’s car with the valet.

You pay the cover and get the night’s password. You utter it in front of a bookshelf and the bookshelf opens up, revealing a hall. You enter and find yourself in a front of a bar. You grab a glass of Au Bon Climat and begin to drink. It is delicious.

You find a magic show to watch, and grab another glass. You don’t want to finish yours in the middle of a show and just have to watch some of the best magicians in the world.

You drink so many glasses you cannot remember if that is your card.

You wander the serpentine halls in a daze. You learn that legendary sleight-of-hand artist Dai Vernon was the Magician-in-Residence for many years, that he sat at the bar and performed tricks for the guests. You carry on his legacy by making a stranger’s cheese plate disappear.

You stumble into Irma’s Piano Parlor. Irma is a great pianist. She takes requests and requests you tip. The twist: Irma is a ghost. You request “Born to Run.” She nails it. The performance is definitely worth two dollars. As you put the bread in her jar, the room begins to spin.

You mutter a lame excuse and head for the bathroom. You pass a minor celebrity, but you ignore them. You feel like your insides are being shuffled.

You stumble into the bathroom and lock yourself in the stall. The lovely tile provides a cool surface on which to sprawl. Occasionally, you pull yourself up to the toilet and hurl a torrent of grade-red vomit. You slip in and out of consciousness until a friend slides a tray of crackers under the door. You nibble and are revived. Abrakadabra.

Irma and child (both ghosts):