The Wife, Ph.D: "I Am With Stupid"

As part of this blog, I often find myself scavenging through my friends' refrigerators, bedroom closets and makeshift wine cellars in search of unique island wines to drink and judge. Some of our friends, like The Man Who Lost His Sense of Taste, consume little to no alcohol so their stash is ripe for the picking. Last year, for instance, I raided his liqueur cabinet (under the kitchen sink, mind you) and found a 2003 Domaine Vlassides Shiraz that held up quite nicely when uncorked a few months later. Unfortunately, I also came across several "promotional" bottles of a Cypriot red wine called Blue Moufflon that would have been put to better use as liquid abrasive, analgesic cream or bowling shoe polish.

What we unearthed from My Zolpidem Supplier's pantry.

This leads us to a weekend brunch at My Zolpidem Supplier's apartment. A closet full of heard and unheard-of old Cypriot wines. An opportunity to test palates, the thrust of our tongues when spitting, and our courage given the wines' age and unfavorable storage condition. The Wife, Ph.D., refuses to partake in the tasting, citing her "fear of vertigo" as a thinly-veiled snobbish excuse. I don't blame her since the wines are probably waaaay past their prime, but when it comes to my preferred activities "stupid is as stupid does."

We start off with a 2004 Alina Dry White Wine (I assume 100% Xynisteri) from Vouni Panagia Winery which smells like sweaty socks and mold and tastes like second-rate white wine vinegar. This is followed by the 2000 Santa Monica Slightly Sparkling White Wine from Monolithos Winery in Pahna with an aroma of apple cider vinegar but outright undrinkable. I gag as I spit it into a flower vase and then I really start questioning my overall intelligence. We switch to the 1999 Socrates Red Dry Wine from Omodos and this one has the scent, taste and appearance of rain-soaked cardboard boxes with some body odor undertones. Last but not least, the 1986 Keo Othello Special Reserve, whose mold-ridden cork crumbles as I pull it out with the corkscrew. I push what remains of it into the wine for a swim and then My Zolpidem Supplier uses a sift to strain some of the swampy liquid into my glass. Rightfully so, she opts to sit this one out. To the nose, it reminds me of tomato sauce but to the mouth it is flabby and foul.*

You might be wondering what we gained from this experience. Well, I guess the main lesson learned is to avoid wine that has spent decades upright in a closet and was not meant to be aged. Next up on Stupidity On The Rock with host Claret Chump, The Wife, Ph.D.'s grandparents' collection with all of its decade-old gems. Stay tuned.

* In all fairness, I will make it up to Keo, Vouni Panagia and Monolithos by tasting their latest vintages of Alina, Santa Monica and Othello and providing them with an objective and thoughtful appraisal of their products. This here was solely an exercise in idiocy.