Cabernet Quotes

Mmm. O positive, my favorite.” “Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon.” “So it is,” said Adrian, straight-faced. “My mistake.

Keith was just bringing the glass to his lips when Adrian said, "Mmm. O positive, my favorite." Keith sprayed out the wine he'd just drunk and promptly started coughing. I was relieved that none got on me. jill burst into giggles, and Clarence stared at his glass wonderingly. "Is it? I thought it was a cabernet sauvignon." "So it is," said Adrian, straight-faced. "My mistake.

Keith was just bringing the glass to his lips when Adrian said, "Mmm. O positive, my favourite." Keith sprayed out the wine he'd just drunk and promptly started coughing. I was relieved that none got on me. Jill burst into giggles, and Clarence stared at his glass wonderingly. "Is it? I thought it was a Cabernet Sauvignon." "So it is," said Adrian, straight-faced. "My mistake.

I languish around in my life, never quite doing what I set out to do. I am tired of being a silver medalist, and tired of fighting uphill battles that I only sort of win.

If you were advising your great-granddaughter about the man you have a crush on at this moment-what would you tell her? Would you be protective, and tell her to kick this man to the curb because he's treating her so badly, or would you tell her to hold on to this man for dear life? Now, why aren't you taking your own advice?

Work hard. Be nice. Hurt no one.

When women break up, more than half the time what we man is, "I need this relationship to change." Or, "I need you to change." When men break up, what they mean is, "I want to break up.

My generation, faced as it grew with a choice between religious belief and existential despair, chose marijuana. Now we are in our Cabernet stage

People don’t change, my dear. Our ability to tolerate them might adjust with age. However, we should never expect a rosé to become a cabernet.

Paola Calvetti takes readers on a delicious trip through Italy, books, letters and love, reminding us all of the joys of a completely compelling read." Cathie Beck, author of Cheap Cabernet: A Friendship

The advertise their products in such a fashion as to make it seem wonderful to drink their ethanol products. It does not matter if they give their products fancy name like Cabernet Sauvignon or Pinot Noir, or if they put bubbles in an ethanol product and call it champagne or beer- everyone is selling ethanol.

Where are you from? New York?" "Weird you picked up on that," she said, "I've been gone from there for so long." Like a couple of decades could dilute that accent.

they could make profitable use of his ample winnings and see the world. Were he not on tour for most of the year, they could finally enjoy a home life—the simple pleasures of coffee and Daily Telegraphs, clean windows and daffodils, cabernet and Newsnight.

As she is pouring the cabernet, she recalls Tanner Walsh’s recordings.

Caymus cabernet.

From the Holy Grail
my lips, they lust a little more. Smoky grapes, Cabernet,
I sense a tug of war

He takes dinner in a likable-looking roadhouse. Because he’s off duty for the night, he has an extra-dry martini with a twist before dinner, another with an ahi appetizer, plus a glass of cabernet sauvignon with his steak.

Carter smiled weakly as he took his first sip of Cabernet and found out it didn't taste much like fruit at all. In fact it tasted only slightly better than cough medicine and not at all like the blackberries the menu had promised. Craptastic. Now they had a whole bottle of the stuff.

Milton stood among his staff, shaking hands, memorising names. He already knew them in a way - he understood this breed backward and had foreseeen how his speech would be received. Journalists were as touchy as Cabernet performers and as stubborn as factory machinists. He couldn't help smiling.

Willpower, it turns out, is more like a reservoir than a river. If we deploy willpower on one decision, we have less self-control available for our next decision. Many of our worst dietary choices, for example, are made in periods of low self-control—at the end of a long day when a big glass of cabernet or a pint of Ben and Jerry’s calls out our name.

I don't love you in the way you want to be loved. But never doubt that it's there. I love you unconditionally.

Some days are a total "What the hell was I thinking?

Pardon my French, but Sauvignon Blanc is one messy bitch.

Hugo planned a five-course meal: smoked duck, oyster stew, roast beef with mashed yams, a salad of apples with beets and blue cheese, then chocolate banana cream pie. Rich, rich, and richer still. Ben made pitchers of martinis and set aside thirty-five bottles of a tried-and-true Napa cabernet, pure purple velvet, and an Oregonian pinot gris, grassy and effervescent.

It's nothing fancy, I opened a jar of sauce and cooked the linguine. But there's fresh Parmesan and I even found a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon." "You found wine." Earlier he'd been thinking about microwaved Who Hash, solitude and if he was very lucky, beer. But a hot, fresh-cooked meal? Candles? Wine? And a chatty yoga-elf chef? With a body like a Las Vegas showgirl?

However, if you’re a top executive earning $250,000 a year and you win $1 million in the lottery, or your company board suddenly decides to double your salary, your surge is likely to last only a few weeks. According to the empirical findings, it’s almost certainly not going to make a big difference to the way you feel over the long run. You’ll buy a snazzier car, move into a palatial home, get used to drinking Chateau Pétrus instead of California Cabernet, but it’ll soon all seem routine and unexceptional.

In hindsight, I was totally unprepared for the truth. I will live without my children much longer than I lived with them. That’s a difficult reality after submerging twenty years of my life into the responsibilities, joys, and frustrations of raising kids.

Later in the evening, Devon and West had dinner in the dilapidated splendor of the dining room. The meal was of far better quality than they had expected, consisting of cold cucumber soup, roast pheasant dressed with oranges, and puddings rolled in sweetened bread crumbs. “I made the house steward unlock the cellar so I could browse over the wine collection,” West remarked. “It’s gloriously well provisioned. Among the spoils, there are at least ten varieties of important champagne, twenty cabernets, at least that many of bordeaux, and a large quantity of French brandy.” “Perhaps if I drink enough of it,” Devon said, “I won’t notice the house falling down around our ears.” “There are no obvious signs of weakness in the foundation. No walls out of plumb, for example, nor any visible cracks in the exterior stone that I’ve seen so far.” Devon glanced at him with mild surprise. “For a man who’s seldom more than half sober, you’ve noticed a great deal.” “Have I?” West looked perturbed. “Forgive me--I seem to have become accidentally lucid.” He reached for his wineglass. “Eversby Priory is one of the finest sporting estates in England. Perhaps we should shoot grouse tomorrow.” “Splendid,” Devon said. “I would enjoy beginning the day with killing something.

I gave them the same advice that had worked for me: Start by stocking your sense memory. Smell everything and attach words to it. Raid your fridge, pantry, medicine cabinet, and spice rack, then quiz yourself on pepper, cardamom, honey, ketchup, pickles, and lavender hand cream. Repeat. Again. Keep going. Sniff flowers and lick rocks. Be like Ann, and introduce odors as you notice them, as you would people entering a room. Also be like Morgan, and look for patterns as you taste, so you can, as he does, “organize small differentiating units into systems.” Master the basics of structure—gauge acid by how you drool, alcohol by its heat, tannin by its dryness, finish by its length, sweetness by its thick softness, body by its weight—and apply it to the wines you try. Actually, apply it to everything you try. Be systematic: Order only Chardonnay for a week and get a feel for its personality, then do the same with Pinot Noir, and Sauvignon Blanc, and Cabernet Franc (the Wine Folly website offers handy CliffsNotes on each one’s flavor profile). Take a moment as you drink to reflect on whether you like it, then think about why. Like Paul Grieco, try to taste the wine for what it is, not what you imagine it should be. Like the Paulée-goers, splurge occasionally. Mix up the everyday bottles with something that’s supposed to be better, and see if you agree. Like Annie, break the rules, do what feels right, and don’t be afraid to experiment.

A study titled, simply, “The Color of Odors,” will destroy your faith in anybody’s ability to taste anything. Here’s how it worked: three French researchers started with two wines from Bordeaux, a white made with Sémillon and Sauvignon grapes and a red made with Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. The researchers first had a group of subjects taste both the white wine and the red, under white light in clear glasses, and write down all the words they could think of to describe each one. In this test it didn’t matter whether the tasters perceived the same things. Inter-rater reliability wasn’t a factor here—the researchers didn’t care if tasters agreed with each other about the wine color and taste, just that each taster would consistently call one “red” and one “white.” Then the researchers took an odorless, tasteless extract of the grape-skin pigment anthocyanin and dripped it into the white wine, turning it red. And they called the tasters back for a second go-around, asking them to compare the white wine and the colored wine—the same wine, in other words, with red food coloring. The result was a taste-test catastrophe. Almost to a person, the tasters chose to use the same words for the white wine from the initial tasting on the white wine in the second. And they used the same words for the red wine on the red-colored white wine. They simply could not tell the difference. Color alone—not aroma, not flavor—told them what to expect, and that’s exactly what they tasted.

The carciofini were good at the moment, no doubt about it, particularly the romagnolo, a variety of artichoke exclusive to the region, so sweet and tender it could even be eaten raw. Puntarelle, a local bitter chicory, would make a heavenly salad. In the Vini e Olio he found a rare Torre Ercolana, a wine that combined Cabernet and Merlot with the local Cesanese grape. The latter had been paired with the flavors of Roman cuisine for over a thousand years: they went together like an old married couple. There was spring lamb in abundance, and he was able to track down some good abbachio, suckling lamb that had been slaughtered even before it had tasted grass. From opportunities like these, he began to fashion a menu, letting the theme develop in his mind. A Roman meal, yes, but more than that. A springtime feast, in which every morsel spoke of resurgence and renewal, old flavors restated with tenderness and delicacy, just as they had been every spring since time began. He bought a bottle of oil that came from a tiny estate he knew of, a fresh pressing whose green, youthful flavors tasted like a bowl of olives just off the tree. He hesitated before a stall full of fat white asparagus from Bassano del Grappa, on the banks of the fast-flowing river Brenta. It was outrageously expensive, but worth it for such quality, he decided, as the stallholder wrapped a dozen of the pale spears in damp paper and handed it to Bruno with a flourish, like a bouquet of the finest flowers. His theme clarified itself the more he thought about it. It was to be a celebration of youth---youth cut short, youth triumphant, youth that must be seized and celebrated.

Astrophage has a predator!” There’s a whole biosphere at Adrian. Not just Astrophage. There’s even an active biosphere within the Petrova line. This is where it all started. Has to be. How else can we explain countless extremely different life-forms that all evolved to migrate in space? They all came from the same genetic root. Astrophage was just one of many, many life-forms that evolved here. And with all life, there is variance and predation. Adrian isn’t just some planet that Astrophage infected. It’s the Astrophage homeworld! And it’s the home of Astrophage’s predators. “This is amazing!” I yell. “If we find a predator…” “We take home!” Rocky says, two octaves higher than normal. “It eat Astrophage, breed, eat more Astrophage, breed, eat more more more! Stars saved!” “Yes!” I press my knuckles against the tunnel wall. “Fist-bump!” “What, question?” I rap the tunnel again. “This. Do this.” He emulates my gesture against the wall opposite my hand. “Celebration!” I say. “Celebration!” The crew of the Hail Mary sat on the couch in the break room, each with their drink of choice. Commander Yáo had a German beer, Engineer Ilyukhina had a distressingly large tumbler of vodka, and Science Specialist DuBois had a glass of 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon that he had poured ten minutes in advance to ensure it had time to breathe. The break room itself had been a struggle to arrange. Stratt didn’t like anything that wasn’t directly related to the mission, and an aircraft carrier wasn’t exactly overflowing with extra space. Still, with more than a hundred scientists from all over the world demanding a place to relax, she had relented. A small room in the corner of the hangar deck was built to house the “extravagance.” Dozens of people crowded into the room and watched the TV feed on the wall-mounted monitor. By silent agreement, the crew got to sit on the couch.

He had a rough idea where he was going, since Rylann had previously mentioned that she lived in Roscoe Village. At the stoplight at Belmont Avenue, he pulled out his cell phone and scrolled through his contacts. The beauty of text messaging, he realized, was in its simplicity. He didn’t have to try to explain things, nor did he have to attempt to parse through all the banter in an attempt to figure out what she might be thinking. Instead, he could keep things short and sweet. I’D LIKE TO SEE YOU. He hit send. To kill time while he waited for her response, he drove in the direction of his sister’s wine shop, figuring he could always drop in and harass Jordan about something. This time, however, she beat him to the punch. “So who’s the brunette bombshell?” Jordan asked as soon as he walked into the shop and took a seat at the main bar. Damn. He’d forgotten about the stupid Scene and Heard column. Kyle helped himself to a cracker and some Brie cheese sitting on the bar. “I’m going to say…Angelina Jolie. Actually, no—Megan Fox.” “Megan Fox is, like, twenty-five.” “And this is a problem why, exactly?” Jordan slapped his hand as he reached for more crackers. “Those are for customers.” She put her hand on her hip. “You know, after reading the Scene and Heard column, I’d kind of hoped it was Rylann they were talking about. And that maybe, just maybe, my ne’er-do-well twin had decided to stop playing around and finally pursue a woman of quality.” He stole another cracker. “Now, that would be something.” She shook her head. “Why do I bother? You know, one day you’re going to wake up and…” Kyle’s cell phone buzzed, and he tuned out the rest of Jordan’s lecture—he could probably repeat the whole thing word for word by now—as he checked the incoming message. It was from Rylann, her response as short and sweet as his original text. 3418 CORNELIA, #3. He had her address. With a smile, he looked up and interrupted his sister. “That’s great, Jordo. Hey, by any chance do you have any bottles of that India Ink cabernet lying around?” She stopped midrant and stared at him. “I’m sure I do. Why, what made you think of that?” Then her face broke into a wide grin. “Wait a second…that was the wine Rylann talked about when she was here. She said it was one of her favorites.” “Did she? Funny coincidence.” Jordan put her hand over her heart. “Oh my God, you’re trying to impress her. That is so cute.” “Don’t be ridiculous,” Kyle scoffed. “I just thought, since I’ve heard such good things about the wine, that I would give it a shot.” Jordan gave him a look, cutting through all the bullshit. “Kyle. She’s going to love it.” Okay, whatever. Maybe he was trying to impress Rylann a little. “You don’t think it’s too much? Like I’m trying too hard?” Jordan put her hand over her heart again. “Oh. It’s like watching Bambi take his first steps.” “Jordo…” he growled warningly. With a smile, she put her hand on his shoulder and squeezed affectionately. “It’s perfect. Trust me.

His disdain for the contagious fad of blind and comparative tastings of unrelated wines will surely rub some furs the wrong way, as will his indifference to the New-Oak-Cabernet-Sauvignon global boom. Tant mieux …

Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon

But like so many things in Japan, behind the façade lay another view. So it was only after I had hiked into the woods far from the bridge that I found a fluttering world of persimmon, ocher, scarlet, and cabernet secreted away in a mossy garden of curving stone paths. When it began to rain, the colors deepened and the leaves, shaped like a baby's hands, spiraled down onto the plush green carpet and sleek dark rocks.

It takes a lot of practice to ensure that a whole bottle of Cabernet and a pint of beer makes only a slight dent in your sobriety, but Howard felt he had reached this stage of accomplishment.

Returning to the buffet, she helped herself to another piece of focaccia bread, the top glistening with a sheen of olive oil and sprinkled with big crystals of salt, fronds of rosemary and tiny curls of thinly sliced garlic. She tasted the bread and made a sound of pleasure that would have embarrassed her if anyone had heard. "It's even better with this Cabernet." Dominic Rossi stood there with two full glasses of red wine. Tess felt her face heat with a blush. Okay, so he'd heard.

Why are you so into Pinot?” 2 Maya asks. In the next 60 seconds of the movie, the character of Miles Raymond tells a story which would set off a boom in sales of Pinot Noir. It’s a hard grape to grow. It’s thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It’s not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and thrive even when it’s neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. In fact it can only grow in these really specific, tucked away corners of the world. And only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot’s potential can coax it into its fullest expression. Its flavors are the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and ancient on the planet. Miles is describing himself in the dialogue and using Pinot as a metaphor for his personality. In this one scene moviegoers projected themselves on the character, feeling his longing and his quest to be understood. Sideways was a hit and won an Oscar for Best Adapted Screenplay. It also launched a movement, turning the misunderstood Pinot Noir into the must-have wine of the year. In less than one year after the movie’s 2004 fall release date, sales of Pinot Noir had risen 18 percent. Winemakers began to grow more of the grape to meet demand. In California alone 70,000 tons of Pinot Noir grapes were harvested and crushed in 2004. Within two years the volume had topped 100,000 tons. Today California wine growers crush more than 250,000 tons of Pinot Noir each year. Interestingly, the Japanese version of the movie did not have the same “Sideways Effect” on wine sales. One reason is that the featured grape is Cabernet, a varietal already popular in Japan. But even more critical and relevant to the discussion on storytelling is that Japanese audiences didn’t see the “porch scene” because there wasn’t one. The scene was not included in the movie. No story, no emotional attachment to a particular varietal. You see, the movie Sideways didn’t launch a movement in Pinot Noir; the story that Miles told triggered the boom. In 60 seconds Maya fell in love with Miles and millions of Americans fell in love with an expensive wine they knew little about.

Seriously. What’s with the face?” Jordan asked. “You’re scaring my cabernets with that scowl.” “I’m just working through some stuff,” he said vaguely. Jordan raised an eyebrow, studying him. “Prison stuff?” “More like post-prison stuff. Nothing we need to talk about.” The last thing he needed his super-perfect twin sister with her super-perfect FBI boyfriend knowing was that he was in another dispute, of sorts, with the U.S. Attorney’s Office. He was cranky enough about the situation without Jordan laying into him about it. He’d left prison several weeks ago and was supposed to be moving on with his life, yet the vestiges of the place still clung to him. Like bad BO. He picked up four of the wine bottles Jordan had unpacked. “Where do you want these?” She pointed. “In the empty bin over there, with the other cabernets.” She looked over when Kyle came back to the bar. “So what kind of post-prison stuff?” Now he was getting suspicious. “What’s with the twenty questions?” “Sue me for trying to open a dialogue here. Geez. I’ve just been a little worried about you, since I’ve heard that it can sometimes be difficult for ex-inmates to reenter normal life.” Kyle shot her a look as he grabbed more wine bottles. “Where, exactly, did you hear that? Siblings of Ex-Cons Anonymous?” Jordan glared. “Yes, we have weekly meetings at the YMCA,” she retorted. Then she waved her hand vaguely. “I don’t know, it’s just…something I saw on TV this past weekend.” Ah. Kyle suddenly had a sneaking suspicion about the cause of his sister’s concern. “Jordo…by any chance were you watching The Shawshank Redemption again?” “Pfft. No.” She saw his knowing expression and caved. “Fine. I was flipping through the channels and it was on TNT. You try turning that movie off.” She looked at him matter-of-factly. “It’s very compelling.

All are wines Wagner himself enjoys. At least one is under $10 and two are over $50. “Over the past eighteen years, every time,” he told me, “the least expensive wine averages the highest ranking, and the most expensive two finish at the bottom.” In 2011, a Gallo cabernet scored the highest average rating, and a Chateau Gruaud Larose (which retails from between $60 and $70) took the bottom

Nick relaxed as he and Jordan settled into the last two open chairs at the bar. This kind of wine tasting was much more his style. Mike slid two empty glasses in front of them. “Where do you guys want to start?” Nick thought about this. “Do you have anything in a pink?” Mike eagerly grabbed a bottle from the back bar. “Actually, we have a gorgeous Rosato. Predominantly made from cabernet and Sangiovese grapes, fermented in stainless steel, then briefly in French oak, it’s a lush, aromatic blend of wild strawberries and blood oranges, full in the mouth without being too heavy. Perfect for a sunny, spring day like this.” “Sounds delicious,” Nick said. “I’ll take everything but that one.

Environmental factors matter a great deal in the ripening of grapes. If, for example, a grape does not get enough sunlight or gets too much light or warmth from the sun, it can cause the fruit to go into “survival mode.” Sometimes the effect is that grapes do not fully mature and balance sweetness with acidity, and they can be too much of one or the other. So the product is much more concentrated. Similarly, as our environmental factors around us grow extreme, we, too, go into survival mode. This can greatly influence our ability to balance and can cause a sort of concentration of our own product. Jessica, right now you may not be able to produce a full-bodied Cabernet. Right now, you may be a port, and that is okay, isn’t it? In fact, it’s wonderful. Allow yourself this moment. The

cabernet sauvignon is the offspring of sauvignon blanc (which, one day, thought to be in the mid-1700s, had a nice moment in nature with cabernet franc, resulting in cabernet sauvignon).

The two glasses of red wine Sue consumed while Jason printed her book had left her with the energy of a slug on muscle relaxers. She might have even gone for a third glass but realized she was using her mother’s Merlot-can-save-the-world theory. Which wasn’t going to work, because she’d been drinking Cabernet.

It’s important for food to be labeled because I should know if the product I’m buying to feed my family contains Polysorbate 60—a chemically-derived emulsifier in Cool Whip that has been linked to organ toxicity, diarrhea, and tumors in laboratory rats. The label also informs me that this fluffy, sweet concoction that looks so appealing in a Jell-O parfait also has synthetic wax, hydrogenated oils, and high fructose corn syrup. I should just eat poison instead.

Francine’s pace always picked up as she approached Reuben, her arms outstretched for a hug. When they were in a room together, she never strayed far from his ample side, unabashedly besotted. Reuben was Francine’s crown jewel, her black South African management guru who was living proof of empowerment. And, boy, was Reuben empowered. As one of a handful of black South Africans with the combined education, experience, skills and charm to consult to international organizations and donors, he was an anti-apartheid millionaire. Reuben had four cars, each a German luxury brand, and four houses scattered around Johannesburg: one for himself, one for his mother, the others for choice. He’d been on management courses in Boston, co-written articles about South African NGOs for university publications, and claimed to savor a nice glass of Cabernet at the end of a long week.

The Book of Ecclesiastes in the Holy Bible was written more than two thousand years ago, just before I was born. Chapter III contains the famous verses about there being a time, a season, and a purpose for everything. Who needs modern self-help books and expensive therapy when this astute advice explains it all?

He wanted her. Here, now, between growing vines and fallen leaves, in the rain and the mud. Anywhere.And she wanted him, too.

Bon. And you can’t do that. You can’t put pinot in a glass with cabernet sauvignon. That’s worse than incest.” Søren ignored him and finished pouring the remnants of his pinot into the glass of cabernet. “Can I ask in which direction your moral compass points?” Søren asked as he came back into the living room and sat down in his armchair again. Kingsley gestured in the direction his moral compass pointed. “I’d figured as much,” Søren said.

music—Sarah Brightman, Il Divo, Latin Jazz, Bette Midler, and a collection of movie tunes. Driving through the Idaho mountains while listening to the theme song from Out of Africa can be

TIDBIT: At dinner with one of his daughters while researching this book, we learned that Bruce Willis drinks “nothing but Opus One,” a Cabernet Sauvignon-based Bordeaux-style blend from Napa Valley.

If you’re a Cabernet Sauvignon loyalist, you might want to consider ordering your steaks rare or medium-rare.

Trying to write on a deadline is like trying to have an orgasm with a gun to your head.

All good things must someday end. Fortunately, this is also true of bad things.

You want the foolproof test to see if you're in a good relationship? Tell the person the thing that you're most afraid to tell them. Then see how they react.

Never underestimate the power of the out-on-a-limb gesture.

Fear of failure is an insidious thing. Leads people to pretend they never wanted a medal in the first place.

Enjoy. Destroy. Same difference.

Accepting my aging body allows me to tolerate sporadic episodes of humiliation and glorious crescendos of joy. In other words, a typical song in the life of a middle-aged woman. After all these years, I’ve learned to accept the fact that if I dare to venture into public, somehow I will embarrass myself.

Fuck me. I mentioned liking to use knives on more than food one time when she and I shared too much friendly Cabernet Sauvignon after work, and now she thinks I’m some sort of deviant. Which I am. But she doesn’t need to know that.

On his way? Oh fuck. That can’t be good. My throat dries, so I lift my wine and swig the nearly full glass in a single unladylike guzzle. Scott’s eyes fling to mine in alarm. Yep. That’s right. Twenty-four years of etiquette washed down with cabernet, buddy. I’m spiraling here. For both of us. You should drink up, too, before the demented gangster arrives to claim me. Jesus, I kind of love that. Not the time.

Teddy knew what everyone would order before they even sat down. It was meat loaf night, which was Charlie's favorite, so of course he'd have that with extra gravy on the side. His mom would stick with the scallops, Gretchen would get the chicken, Jane would either get the scallops or the short ribs (depending on how much red meat she'd eaten that week), and Kay would get the chopped salad with a piece of salmon on top. A calm came over Teddy as his family went around and ordered, one by one, and he had guessed right. He ordered the skirt steak, creamed spinach, and a glass of cabernet. No one got dessert, although Kay and Gail both ordered Baileys on the rocks as they almost always did.

Il est temps de s’arrêter un instant sur le vin, car il ne s’exporte guère, malheureusement. Or, il s’en produit un peu partout, en Transylvanie, Moldavie, Valachie et Dobroudja, car la Roumanie est au neuvième rang mondial des producteurs de ce breuvage. J’ai toujours goûté en Roumanie d’excellents vins, plutôt rouges que blancs, et même une sorte de « champagne », mais je n’ai jamais réussi à retrouver la trace de celui que j’avais aimé ! Il y en a tellement de sortes que l’on s’y perd, entre les différentes régions, les producteurs et les cépages, entre les autochtones dont certains sont des curiosités remontant aux Romains ou peut-être aux Daces, ceux qui ont été importés par les envahisseurs germaniques, ou plus récemment d’Occident après la crise du phylloxéra. Certains sont particulièrement réputés, comme le cabernet sauvignon de Samburesti, en Valachie du Nord, le feteasca negra (« noir des pucelles ») de Dealu Mare, à une centaine de kilomètres au nord-est de Bucarest, le tamaioasa romanesca (genre de muscat) de Murfatlar, à côté de la mer Noire. Il y a un vin pour chaque plat, léger ou plus capiteux, mais ils ne vieillissent guère !

march .. .. CHOPPED SALAD CABERNET-BRAISED SHORT RIBS WITH MIXED HERB GREMOLATA GORGONZOLA POLENTA LEMONY GREEN BEANS MIXED BERRY TART

They seized on that word and with my blessing made a beautiful cabernet sauvignon called Harumph. So if you’re disappointed when you don’t get a “harrumph” out of your audience, you can always buy a great bottle of Harumph wine instead.

You taste like wine,” he said against my mouth. “House Cabernet.” “Tastes good on you.

En su orden, los vinos con mayores propiedades antioxidantes son el pinot noir, el malbec, el cabernet sauvignon, el merlot y luego el syrah –una uva que yo adoro,

I might have been in a bar fight once, but if I hit anyone, it was with a bottle of fine cabernet.

One interesting conclusion is that money does indeed bring happiness. But only up to a point, and beyond that point it has little significance. For people stuck at the bottom of the economic ladder, more money means greater happiness. If you are an American single mother earning $12,000 a year cleaning houses and you suddenly win $500,000 in the lottery, you will probably experience a significant and long-term surge in your subjective well-being. You’ll be able to feed and clothe your children without sinking further into debt. However, if you’re a top executive earning $250,000 a year and you win $1 million in the lottery, or your company board suddenly decides to double your salary, your surge is likely to last only a few weeks. According to the empirical findings, it’s almost certainly not going to make a big difference to the way you feel over the long run. You’ll buy a snazzier car, move into a palatial home, get used to drinking Chateau Pétrus instead of California Cabernet, but it’ll soon all seem routine and unexceptional.

Defense: Microbiome Apricots Arugula Asparagus Bamboo shoots Black beans Black tea Blueberries Bok choy Broccoli Cabbage Camembert cheese Carrots Cauliflower Chamomile tea Chanterelle mushrooms Cherries Chia seeds Chickpeas Chile peppers Coffee Concord grape juice Cranberries Cranberry juice Dark chocolate Eggplant Enoki mushrooms Escarole Fiddleheads Flax seeds Frisee Gouda cheese Green tea Kale Kimchi Kiwifruit Lentils Lion’s mane mushrooms Lychee Maitake mushrooms Mangoes Morel mushrooms Navy beans Nectarines Olive oil (EVOO) Oolong tea Oyster mushrooms Pao cai Parmigiano-Reggiano Peaches Peas Plums Pomegranate juice Porcini mushrooms Pumpernickel bread Pumpkin seeds Puntarelle Radicchio Red wine (Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot) Rutabaga Sauerkraut Sesame seeds Shiitake mushrooms Sourdough bread Squid ink Sunflower seeds Tardivo di Treviso Tomatoes Turnips Walnuts White button mushrooms Whole grains Yogurt

Unlikely. That wine is the reason, the only reason, I took the case. In the nineteenth century, Chateau Haut-Braquilanges produced the finest wines in France. Their signature claret was the product of a single vineyard, of about two acres, planted in Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, and Merlot. It was situated on a hill near Fronsac. Unfortunately, that hill was violently contested in World War I, drenched with mustard gas and poisoned forever, and the chateau leveled. There are at most two dozen bottles left of the vintages from that chateau known to exist. But none from the greatest vintage of all—1904. It was believed extinct. Extraordinary that this fellow has a case of it. You saw how reluctant he was to part with even the one bottle.

5 × 5 × 5 Daily Worksheet—Preferred Foods List Choose one item from each defense category to eat each day. Defense: Angiogenesis Antiangiogenic Almonds Anchovies Apple peel Apples (Granny Smith, Red Delicious, Reinette) Apricot Arctic char Arugula Bamboo shoots Barley Beer Belgian endive Bigeye tuna Black bass Black beans Black plums Black raspberries Black tea Blackberries Blueberries Blueberries (dried) Bluefin tuna Bluefish Bok choy Bottarga Broccoli Broccoli rabe Cabbage Camembert cheese Capers Carrots Cashews Cauliflower Caviar (sturgeon) Chamomile tea Cherries Cherries (dried) Cherry tomatoes Chestnuts Chia seeds Chicken (dark meat) Chile peppers Cinnamon Cloudy apple cider Cockles (clam) Coffee Cranberries Cranberries (dried) Dark chocolate Eastern oysters Edam cheese Eggplant Emmenthal cheese Escarole Fiddleheads Fish roe (salmon) Flax seeds Frisee Ginseng Gouda cheese Gray mullet Green tea Guava Hake Halibut Jamón iberico de bellota Jarlsberg cheese Jasmine green tea John Dory (fish) Kale Kimchi Kiwifruit Licorice root Lychee Macadamia nuts Mackerel Mangoes Manila clams Mediterranean sea bass Muenster cheese Navy beans Nectarine Olive oil (EVOO) Onions Oolong tea Oregano Pacific oysters Peaches Pecans Peppermint Pine nuts Pink grapefruit Pistachios Plums Pomegranates Pompano Proscuitto di Parma Pumpkin seeds Puntarelle Radicchio Rainbow trout Raspberries Red black-skin tomatoes Redfish Red-leaf lettuce Red mullet Red wine (Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot) Romanesco Rosemary Rutabaga Salmon San Marzano tomatoes Sardine Sauerkraut Sea bream Sea cucumber Sencha green tea Sesame seeds Soy Spiny lobster Squash blossoms Squid ink Stilton cheese Strawberries Sultana raisins Sunflower seeds Swordfish Tangerine tomatoes Tardivo di Treviso Tieguanyin green tea Tuna Turmeric Turnips Walnuts Watermelon Yellowtail (fish)

Defense: Regeneration Anchovies Apple peel Apples (Granny Smith, Red Delicious, Reinette) Apricots Arctic char Bamboo shoots Barley Beer Belgian endive Bigeye tuna Bitter melon Black bass Black chokeberry Black plums Black raspberries Black tea Blackberries Blueberries Blueberries (dried) Bluefin tuna Bluefish Bottarga Capers Carrots Caviar (sturgeon) Celery Chamomile tea Cherries Cherries (dried) Chestnuts Chia seeds Chile peppers Chinese celery Cockles (clam) Coffee Collard greens Concord grape juice Cranberries Cranberries (dried) Dark chocolate Eastern oysters Eggplant Escarole Fiddleheads Fish roe (salmon) Flax seeds Frisee Ginseng Goji berries Grapes Gray mullet Green beans Green tea Hake Halibut John Dory (fish) Kale Kiwifruit Lychee Mackerel Mangoes Manila clams Mediterranean sea bass Mustard greens Nectarines Olive oil (EVOO) Onions Oregano Pacific oysters Peaches Peanuts Peppermint Persimmon Pistachios Plums Pomegranates Pompano (fish) Pumpkin seeds Puntarelle Purple potatoes Radicchio Rainbow trout Raspberries Razor clams Red-leaf lettuce Red mullet Red wine (Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot) Redfish Rice bran Rosemary Saffron Salmon Sardine Sea bass Sea bream Sea cucumber Sesame seeds Soy Spinach Spiny lobster Squash blossoms Squid ink Strawberries Sultana raisins Sunflower seeds Swiss chard Swordfish Tardivo di Treviso Thyme Truffles Tuna Turmeric Walnuts Wasabi Watercress Whole grains Yellowtail (fish)

Defense: Immunity Acerola Aged garlic Apple peel Apples (Granny Smith, Red Delicious, Reinette) Apricots Arugula Bamboo shoots Barley Belgian endive Black plums Black raspberries Black tea Blackberries Blackberries (dried) Blueberries Blueberries (dried) Bok choy Broccoli Broccoli rabe Broccoli sprouts Cabbage Camu camu Capers Carrots Cauliflower Chamomile tea Chanterelle mushrooms Cherries Cherries (dried) Cherry tomatoes Chestnuts Chia seeds Chile peppers Coffee Collard greens Concord grape juice Cranberries Cranberries (dried) Cranberry juice Dark chocolate Eggplant Enoki mushrooms Escarole Fiddleheads Flax seeds Frisee Ginseng Goji berries Grapefruit Green tea Guava Kale Kimchi Kiwifruit Licorice root Lychee Maitake mushrooms Mangoes Morel mushrooms Mustard greens Nectarines Olive oil (EVOO) Onions Orange juice Oranges Oyster mushrooms Pacific oysters Peaches Peppermint Plums Pomegranates Porcini mushrooms Pumpkin seeds Puntarelle Radicchio Raspberries Razor clams Red-leaf lettuce Red wine (Cabernet, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot) Romanesco Rosemary Rutabaga Saffron Sauerkraut Sesame seeds Shiitake mushrooms Spinach Squash blossoms Squid ink Strawberries Sultana raisins Swiss chard Tardivo di Treviso Truffles Turmeric Turnips Walnuts Watercress White button mushrooms

Instead, I stick with something simple for an excuse as to why there’s no ring on my finger: I’m a workaholic and my expectations are unreasonable. At least that’s what my therapist said. And by therapist, I mean a bottle of Cabernet and a slurring best friend by the name of Autumn.

I was enchanted as soon as I stepped off the train. As were the hundreds of others who got off the train with me who were now in the process of climbing into buggies and wagons, en route to the dozens of resorts, enclaves, and tent campgrounds in the area, where they would soak up the sun, get drunk on Cabernet, swim and picnic in the druidy redwood groves while reciting Shakespeare. I climbed into a wagon and was driven off by a Mr. Lars Magnusson to view the old Olson farm. We traveled a mile or so into the hills, past oak glens, brooks, and pools of water, past manzanitas, madrones, and trees dripping with Spanish moss. Sonoma Mountain was to the west; its shadow cast everything in a soft purple light. When we finally reached the farm and I saw the luscious valley spread out in front of me, I knew this was it. Greengage. It would be a home for me and Martha at first, but I hoped it would soon be something more. A tribute to my mother and her ideals; a community in which she would have flourished, where she would have lived a good long life. Greengage.The burbling creek that ran smack down the middle of the property. The prune, apple, and almond orchards: the fields of wheat, potatoes, and melons. The pastures for cows and sheep. The chicken house and pigsty. The gentle, sloping hills, mounds that looked like God's knuckles, where I would one day plant a vineyard.

red-state blast by the Missouri farmer Blake Hurst that was originally published in The American Enterprise magazine. He and his fellow Bush voters, Hurst stepped forward to tell the world, were humble, humble, humble, humble! Most Red Americans can’t deconstruct post-modern literature, give proper orders to a nanny, pick out a cabernet with aftertones of licorice, or quote prices from the Abercrombie and Fitch catalog. But we can raise great children, wire our own houses, make beautiful and delicious creations with our own two hands, talk casually and comfortably about God, repair a small engine, recognize a good maple sugar tree, tell you the histories of our towns and the hopes of our neighbors, shoot a gun and run a chainsaw without fear, calculate the bearing load of a roof, grow our own asparagus . . . And so on.

It's uh, it's thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early. It's, you know, it's not a survivor like Cabernet, which can just grow anywhere and uh, thrive even when it's neglected. No, Pinot needs constant care and attention. You know? And in fact it can only grow in these really specific, little, tucked away corners of the world. And, and only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot's potential can then coax it into its fullest expression. Then, I mean, oh its flavors, they're just the most haunting and brilliant and thrilling and subtle and... ancient on the planet.

And then I’m soaking wet, holding Nathan’s dead weight on the unforgiving ground, gravel and dirt caking on my legs, my black dress changing to dark burgundy, spreading like the cabernet on the white linen. And he’s not smiling anymore.

I made the house steward unlock the cellar so I could browse over the wine collection,” West remarked. “It’s gloriously well provisioned. Among the spoils, there are at least ten varieties of important champagne, twenty cabernets, at least that many of bordeaux, and a large quantity of French brandy.” “Perhaps if I drink enough of it,” Devon said, “I won’t notice the house falling down around our ears.

This is why tourists come to wine country, not just to get tipsy from tiny pours of Cabernet Sauvignon, but to be inside this world, where every surface mirrors back the sun.

A bottle of Stag's Leap Artemis Cab was open and hardly touched. That would be Stag's Leap Wine Cellars, thought Sunny, not to be confused with Stags' Leap Winery or the Stags Leap District. How many hundreds of thousands, perhaps even millions, of dollars did the lawyers get to sort out that tangle of suits and countersuits? And, in the end, it all came down to the placement of an apostrophe. The place where one stag leaps versus the place where multiple stags leap versus the declarative statement that multiple stags are inclined to leap around these few acres where very good Cabernet Sauvignon grapes are grown.

Instead of sashaying down the aisle to wedding bliss, I detoured over to Malfunction Junction.

life is fragile and getting older is a privilege denied to many others.

luxury wines such as Gaja Barbaresco, Conterno Barolo, and Super Tuscans such as Sassicaia and Masseto, we revel in the challenge of finding the most interesting and tasty Piedirosso, Pigato, and Procanico to tempt our guests. To that end, when the restaurant was under construction and still uninhabitable, we found ourselves in a whirlwind of tasting appointments off site, often up to eight hours straight, auditioning hundreds of wines daily for several weeks. Each day, we asked our trusted wine sellers to bring only the wines of a particular region of Italy. Alto Adige day seems to always be a bit easier, as these northern wines tend to have a nice palate-cleansing and reviving acidity that certainly helps when there are so many wines to taste. On that day we taste wines like crisp, clean Sauvignon Blanc from Zemmer and the elegant Chardonnays of Elena Walch, both made from international grape varieties, and Hofstatter Pinot Bianco and Mayr-Nusser Lagrein made from homegrown grapes. On the other hand, Tuscany day can be a tough one, with all of the rich, high-octane reds that are typically presented, and for the tremendous number of high-quality wines that we just cannot bring ourselves to forgo swallowing. Tuscany provides us with glassfuls of the classic Sangiovese-based Chianti, Brunello di Montalcino, and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano, and their more reasonably priced facsimilies: Sangiovese Toscana, Rosso di Montalcino, and Rosso di Montepulciano. The neoclassic Tuscan reds include the blends in which Sangiovese is married with grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah. These are the Super Tuscan wines. We call these few weeks of intense wine tasting “The Gauntlet.” As much fun as it sounds, you realize that tasting can actually be very hard work. Thank goodness for the chef’s sandwiches: Sicilian Tuna to revive the palate after all of that Sicilian Nero d’Avola, Bresaola and Arugula on Lombardy day when we have been drinking Sforzato di Valtellina and its simpler cousin, Rosso di Valtellina, both made from Chiavennesca—all perfect vehicles for bringing our palates and ourselves back to life!