| Poizin Zinfandel |
It could be I’m a bit jaded about Hallows’ Eve and its ensuing holiday. I have been wanting to make up for the lack of lukewarm nights of certain trickery and indulgent treating by painting my prodigiously black-bearded self, a light tinge of periwinkle blue; covering intently, my whole body. In tandem, I would hold a glittering silver lightning bolt in one hand, while the sea-dripping carcass of a purple octopus limply resides in the other. A faux, navy-colored ort cloud being the only piece to cover my abject nakedness while I emphatically recite, line-for-line, the entire scope of Hesiod’s “Theogeny.” Heh, though It seems that we celebrate this kind of smut and kitschiness when Halloween is coming around, it’s the one holiday that bodes well for pop-pagans, remedial occultists and readied children. For me, the definitive perks were the annual expectation that the Garfield and Charlie Brown re-runs would reappear, or, the chance to present myself as that brash, azure character I previously mentioned. Gorging myself till all the chocolate ran out was fun, but behold! Amidst the re-edits of comprehensive horror films and that same old lukewarm effect of office parties without costume, remembrances of keeping up with Jones’ decorations and delinquents’ creativities, it all resonates with the usual ho-hum effect.
| Schwarze Black Cat |
Let’s not forget the parents who mischeviously prate-on with heads-of-household to quell their own lack of social and confectionary amusements, while pre-adolescents pray to be involved in the intramural, yet painful variety of “tag sports;” represented bluntly, in teenagers’ flour-filled gym socks, torrents of spoiled eggs and irritant shaving creams. Traditions though, are quite funny, because you never see wine brought into the foreground of Halloween’s localized spectacles. There are certain parallels to the idea that good juice is a symbol of the holiday’s allowance for one night’s worth of debauch and self-gratification. ‘It’s all supposed to be harmless fun’ one could remark, but there’s nothing less spooky than a night without twisted perceptions and googly-eyed knick-knacks. I don’t mean to sound like a doctor, but the common ailments suffered during this one particular day, may call for significant doses of riesling, or red zinfandels.
Laugh as you will, but I’m being serious enough to help you see the connection here. Although I have two thematically charged items that will make any Jack-O-Lantern’s smile seem a bit more wide, the best thing about a riesling may be, if you choose a more fruit-forward one, the experience of something sweet without the gut-rot semblances of milk balls and petrified toffees. It’s something that the cool, fall weather has brought about in order to quench those desires for something a little sweeter, maybe a bit lighter than usual, and can still make those heavy autumnal foods seem like spring hors d’oeuvres. Do you need that quintessential Black Cat as a foyer centerpiece? Zeller Schwarze has a bottle that’s shaped like the one feline that foreshadows superstitious mystery. No, there’s no pictures here, it’s a bottle molded to represent the contours of the creature itself. Perhaps, the one morbid curiosity here, is that a liquor-rich white wine with notes of apricot and vanilla pour directly from the top of its inanimate head...I’m just saying, don't you think it’s a bit weird? That’s all...
If Americans still have a crush on “Jolly Roger” there’s more to his clichéd likeness than just dry bones. “Poizin” is not only another hackneyed item in the marketing of Red Zinfandel, but the communication of its worth, like most bottles, rests in its liquid content. I digress thoughtfully, because if it weren’t for the ominous labeling and the poem on back, the red would have never made it past my word processor...it would be a tasty something that would have been ill-forgotten until next October. Almost hallowed on its own, the Zin boasts of a traditional array of ripe black and blue fruits, bordering on that eerie, mouth-filling richness seen only in such a varietal. I shudder, wondering about the lack of it during feasts of roast duck and root vegetables; unlike some people, the challenge in seeing if one can survive its bounty may be equally as frightening.
I can do all the exhorting that’s required to show you the proper Halloween bottle, but there were some in which eligibility was present, but altogether they missed the mark when effusing the holiday spirit. I thought of talking about Erna Schein again, but would “The Cemetery” be a practical entry ? Its caricature is somewhat depressing, if not baleful enough; but, it’s a symbol of artisanal talent at a price that does not always meet the demands of household costume parties. A lot of wine is lurking, you have to take a long journey through those long, dark, recesses of the mind. Something which if ever, may enable you to be a little more provocative than you already are.
Toil, or trouble, I hear the cauldron a-bubblin.
Happy Halloween !
Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team
Visit us and view our holiday selections @: westchesterwine.com
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