I hang out with a gang of four other girls and we unabashedly call ourselves the Fab Five. Now separated between LA, SF, and DC, we had a reunion last weekend up here in the bay. Despite the fact that it took the LA girls NINE hours to get here (flat tire and then dead battery on the 5), and despite the fact that the ENTIRE objective of Friday night was for the Fab Five to drink Strawberry Fields cocktails together (muddled strawberries, vodka, soda, simple syrup, lemon juice) at Tipsy Pig and they were fucking SOLD OUT of them (luckily Doris, R2 and I went on a stealth mission earlier that night, armed with thermoses and brought some home in case they didn’t make it here before last call; we poured the drink into the containers in the bathroom stall and a LOT of it fell [a] into the toilet [GROSS LOOKS LIKE…] [b] on the floor, causing the girl in the stall next to us to shout, “SOMEONE’S PEEING ALL OVER THE FLOOR!”), all was well by Saturday when we went to Sonoma in the late afternoon for some wine tasting.
Our first stop was Viansa. Here we encountered the strangest employee ever (I’ll call her Barbara). We spent a lot of time, individually, trying to figure out if she had some sort of legit brain disorder or other psychopathology. She began pretty alert, telling us that she likes to “tailor tastings to each person’s palate. So tell me what you like and I’ll pour you something you’ll find is delicious!” Tinx went first, shyly (in her unique “I’m talking to grown-ups” voice which I think is hilarious but also love) saying, “I’m not sure, but I like light wines – nothing too intense.” Barbara said, “Alright, I’ll start you off with our Cabernet Franc – it’s rich and delicious and very full-bodied.” WTF?? Then, Logo: “Actually, can I try that? I love cabs.” Barbara: “Oh, well for you I’ll pour our Pinot Grigio – so CRISP!” WTF squared. I said “I like raisiney blends” and Babs said, “Dessert? You like dessert?” “No, RAISINEY, like, tastes like raisins.” “Are you saying ‘dessert?'” “No, RAISIN, you know, like, dried grapes? In the sun?” “Oh, well if you like raisins you’ll love our dessert wine.” Sigh. She poured me grape juice with sugar in it – their Frescolina, which made everyone a little ill but which we (actually, ReeRee) bought as a gift for R2, who goes up to bars and announces “I’m a lightweight, please give me a girly drink” to bartenders.
Anyway, standouts from Viansa were the Arneis and the Pierina Vernaccia, both very unique and unique to their winery and only a handful (fewer than five) others. Tinx also picked up some truffle cheese which was the bomb.
Poor Doris. At this point she started getting green around the gills; massively hungover from the night before (the sad kind where you wake up in the middle of the night and barf alone in the dark whilst others are sleeping). She announced that she was going to puke and put her head over a barrel-turned-trashcan, but didn’t actually puke.
So we piled into the van (Logo’s younger brother Pogo was driving us in her family’s van – THANK YOU!) and headed to Gloria Ferrer winery. They don’t really do tastings – they are more like a “wine bar” they said. Weird and un-fun, but we obliged and got a bottle of bubbly and sat outside, shivering but forcing ourselves to enjoy the view. The woman who came out and opened the bottle for us failed epically – first by messing up the cork popping and then making our glasses overflow (esp embarrassing for her because we watched the bubbles go up and up and up in the flute and we were like “ohh nooo!” and she said, “Nope! Just watch – it’ll be fine. This is my job, you know. I have a lot of experience at this.” and then it overflowed).
Doris missed out on this all, because she was in the bathroom allegedly puking (she did not).
Next, to the Larson Family Winery; everyone’s favorite [don’t be sketched out by the shady-ass dirt road on the way to the winery lined with what look like hillbilly crackhouses]. We were riding on a cute animal high because we passed a buncha sheep with baby sheep that looked like little cotton balls stuck to their momma’s legs. SO CUTE.
THEN, we were greeted by three labs – yellow (Sunny), choco (Bubba), and black (Pete). They wanted to play fetch with us – with LEMONS! Fuckin A that’s cute. Sunny (the alpha) would fetch the lemon but then drop it on the ground in front of you and stand on it. Pete was less interested in fetch and more interested in getting petted. They were three happy and uber muscular dogs that had one job and that was to run around.
I quite liked their Pinot Noir and quite LOVED their Meritage.
At this point we were pretty sauced; alternating between singing Tik Tok at the top of our lungs and singing Bad Romance at the top of our lungs. Tinx accidentally buckled her seatbelt through the handles of her Viansa bag and thus couldn’t access her cheese, which she lamented loudly. Doris didn’t drink but instead, every so often, would threaten to puke and then not puke.
ReeRee: She’s been false alarming all day! I kinda HOPE she pukes at this point!
Next, to Jacuzzi Winery. They have FREE tastings (they also have olive oil tastings)! They are, accordingly, miserly portions, but they had the most sublime Merlot and a chocolate shot ($2) that was reminiscent of this shit so I drunkenly made my forearms into an “X” and cried “NOOOOOO~”
Lastly, we went to Cline Cellars, open latest in Sonoma till 6 pm. Our attendant had cleeearly been drinking all day long himself. He could barely get us through our tasting and devoted all his energy to slurring his words and flirting with us. Here, the Cashmere was amazing and the Carignane transcendant.
We then went to Logo’s parents and soaked in their jacuzzi for an hour, toasted (except Doris, who can someone tell me if she actually ever puked?) and happy (all), residually giggling over things that had happened that day, and this silly picture I took of Pete (he looks stupid lol).
