Every time I tell someone I went to New Zealand I get the question, “Why did you go all the way out there?”. My guy, why not? First and foremost can we all just agree, Lord of the effing Rings. Next, I mean, look at that fucking landscape man. It is out of this world! It was the type of thing that postcards can never do justice and the moment it takes your breath away you still don’t feel like it’s really happening to you.
To say it had been a minute since I was last at a wine event might not do the statement justice. It had been several years and, honestly, it was long overdue. I mean when old colleagues greet you with “Are you still in the industry?” you know your presence at these types of functions was severely lacking. So let’s consider this my return to form and I’m ready to make an entrance, so back on up… cause you know. But right off the bat I noticed my tastebuds were not up for the task at hand.
I gotta be honest with you, I’m not a huge fan of “Top List”. I hate to say that because who doesn’t want to file through a rundown of what the experts regard as the best of the best. So, every year when the rankings drop, I try not to give them the credit they’re due. Although, I can’t deny I give them a glance to just familiarize myself with what’s going to be the latest “new hotness” to fly off the shelves.
With the day of the year fast approaching when everyone proclaims their Irish heritage (factually or imbibed), I wanted to take this moment to explore the Isle of Eire for more than just the pint of the black it’s world renowned for. I want to delve into the brewed side of Ireland that not all of us may be aware of; to check out the oddly common, but often overlooked beers which make the Irish pub scene not just a crawl on the dark side.
World class chefs cooking up bodacious east meets west inspired BBQ and copious amounts of wine being poured is what I was expecting (at least the former was spot on). This was, after all, opening night of the South Beach Wine & Food Festival. I expected swank digs with the elitist of Miami socialites attempting to rub elbows. This was, after all, going to be hosted at Turnberry Isle. But what it turned out to be was something far more laid-back, not like a Snoop Dogg laaaaid-back, but considering the scenario, I'd say the vibe was on point for something a bit smoother around the edges.
To walk into a brew pub at three in the afternoon to see a bar top the length of an old school stretch caddy full of men pounding snifters of the dark goodness was a sight on its own. But in the corner of this vivaciously decorated, although poorly lit for the daytime, location reside the true eye catchers of the afternoon. Sprightly situated are four lively lovelies consuming libations. These are the type of young women who would fit in better in one of those SoBe night clubs a few miles away on a late-night bender instead of sitting in the corner of a dive during this ungodly hour for some mid-day philandering… but who am I to judge? More power to ya ladies!
When you’re invited to someone’s home to share a taste of their culture you jump at the offer. Always keep in mind though, there are certain rules that must be followed. First rule is you don’t ask what they are serving. That’s just plain rude man. Besides, you probably won’t recognize what their serving anyway, so don’t take away the suspense and surprise of the moment. Rule number 2, do not disregard anything that is offered; doesn’t matter if you’re convinced you won’t like it. Simply try it, smile accordingly and, if it tastes like death, then politely thank them and dodge that dish like a chunky kid running for his life during a game of dodgeball.
