macbebekin

summer wine

2008-07-03T10:12:47Z

First things first: I'm not a connoisseur. I'm not much of an oenophile. Most of the things I am are much easier to spell. But I've been getting interested in wine, in my small way. I do like to have a pleasant glass with dinner. Two or three glasses, and I start to giggle. Four, and I start to show my tattoos. And I don't have any tattoos, so you can see that four is over my limit. A scant two is more likely, and not always two days in a row. Since I'm the only wine-drinker in the house, I hate to open a good bottle and have it sit on the shelf, squinting sourly at me for the rest of the week, so I'm looking at some alternatives. ]]> boxed wines Because the bladder (hee) in a proper boxed-wine box keeps the remaining volume of wine airtight, boxed wine will keep in the fridge for weeks without noticeable decline in quality. Even with the tetra-packs (think "oversized juicebox"), you can squeeze out most of the air before recapping. No, the problem with boxed wines isn't the decline in quality, but the quality, full stop. I'm trying out a few, and looking for recommendations of others. This Chow article recommends the Bota box. Coincidentally, I'm currently drinking my way through a thoroughly unremarkable Bota box of Pinot Grigio. It's drinkable, but flat. Based on the article rather than the Pinot Grigio, I'm willing to give the Bota Shiraz a try. The Frugal Oenophile gives an overview of some "alternatively packaged" wines, a couple of which sound dreadful, but there are a few possibilities there for an everyday wine. He also describes one tetra-packed Shiraz that sounds quite lovely. This apparently abandoned blog on boxed wines nonetheless has some good reading, and here's one of many Chowhound threads on boxed wine, with the requisite nay-saying wine snobs. cheap wine I stock our "cellar" (actually a hallway) with bottles of decent-not-great wine for US$12 and under. It's a tough price point, but higher than that and I stop insouciantly opening any old bottle for one or two glasses. Oddly enough, boxwines.org focuses not on boxed wines, but on affordable wines in general, as does this award-winning blog devoted to Good Wine Under $20. Nirvino, a review aggregator with user-added content, looks like a useful resource for overviews of specific bottles and brands. Here, a reader asks Metafilter "What was that "vino rosso"? I'm looking for a red wine like the "house reds" we drank in northern Italy." And just in time, Eric Asimov makes an impassioned call for chilled reds for summer. (NYTimes, log-in required.)

Yes, we want red wine. And how are we going to drink this red wine? That's right, chilled! Cold, cool, brisk, whatever you want to call it, we are going to enjoy this red wine at a temperature that refreshes, restores and revitalizes even the most exhausted soul.

Conveniently, the wines that best take to chilling are --- yes --- moderately inexpensive little reds. glasses A poor glass can handicap even a fine wine, and conversely a good glass can transform a ~~cheap~~ less expensive wine, bringing out its fragrance and hidden notes. I believed this for a long time, but confirmed it after receiving these handsome Spiegelau glasses as a gift. (Thanks, Mom! I love love love them, and I credit them with spurring some of my new interest in wine.) A side-by-side tasting of the same cheap bottled Chardonnay in different glasses tells the story: in the plain old glass, it's flat and vegetal with a faint boozy aftertaste. In the Spiegelau glass, it blooms with fruit, grassy undertones, and hint of richness. Though the glasses are designed for Chardonnay, they amply improve Pinot Grigio and Sauvignon Blanc. I'm so delighted by these new glasses that I'm going to splurge on a half-dozen for red wine. The only question: should they be for Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Shiraz, or a general-purpose glass? discussion! Probably the best resource for a novice wine drinker: talking to other wine drinkers! Here are some of Elli's remarks (also visible in the comments). Elli says Having bought and abandoned many a wine glass in Switzerland, I like a general large-bowled glass that gives you a good surface area and is aesthetically pleasing to hold. (Similar to this but taller...) Also consider getting a decanter if you have guests... Oh, and Faith introduced me to the sparkling Shiraz which is great in summer! Elsa responds Ooooh, those glasses are niiiiiiice. I'm also looking at these Cab/Merlot/Bordeaux glasses and this Cab/Merlot set, but I like the big swell at the bottom of the glasses you linked. Elli, you cleverly remarked upon several points I intended to mention, but, uh, forgot. I do have a handsome vintage decanter, scored at a yard sale years ago. I pulled it out of the cupboard just in case, thinking it would be an easy way to class up boxed wine, but it doesn't get much use. For myself, I decant my cheap red wine into the glass and let it sit for a while, and for guests I'm usually serving a proper bottle of good (but not marvelous) wine that doesn't improve with decanting. If we have more than one wine drinker, we'll empty a bottle or more, so I don't cringe at opening them for guests. And, yes, I've been keeping an eye out for sparkling Shiraz since you mentioned it last summer (your summer or mine, not sure), but I can only find one sold locally. I keep forgetting to look up the label for reviews. Tell me: do you drink it from champagne glasses to retain the fizz, or from red wine glasses to get the bouquet? the dump bucket Sorry to say, some of these alternatively packaged or lower-priced wines aren't worth drinking, even as a table wine, even from a well-designed glass. Make the most of the clunkers! - using up too-sweet Gewurztraminer, which would work for most white wine. - using up slightly bland red wine. Now I'm looking forward to a languid August evening when I can mix Coca-Cola and cheap red to make Calimocho/Kalimotxo, the tipple of Spanish teenagers. (And, yes, the Elsa in the thread, with the cheap wine and the nice glasses and the onion jam, is me!)

I'm back

2008-07-02T08:47:14Z

Watch out, travels are over and I'm back on the net, people. Don't get too excited though, as most of my pursuits will be towards bringing in the bacon to pay for an incredible, envy-inducing apartment. I'll be watching you from my little nest, my little haven in the wintery world down under. Elsa and I received our first spamalicious request to review product x, over which we had a good laugh and set some ground rules (all thanks to Elsa because my brain is on vacation still): A) We might choose not to write about it. B) If we do decide it's worth writing about, the review might be negative. c) We will always disclose that the product was a promotional sample. So there you have it. We're all about disclosure and honesty if you didn't get that already. You're curious now, aren't you? Too bad, we're exercising option A here. On the verge Memories from ten and twenty years ago come flooding back to me as I approach the big 3-9 which precurses* the massive 4-0. (*Why is this not a verb? I precurse you!) I'm remembering the drama department at UT, the cult where I met JM, moving to a new country, the adjustment... Is it all about adjusting and accepting? I sense a trend... In Port Adelaide, on our last day there, I woke up from a dream thinking "this isn't my life", that I should go back to sleep to the life I was just experiencing--I really and truly couldn't identify with the waking me. It was so cool. Once I realized, no, this is it, I was able to adjust, but the whole experience gave me pause to consider just what reality is which at this moment is... I'm running out of internet time at the caravan park.

parties

2008-06-21T05:57:42Z

The Fella and I have been trying to socialize more, a resolution that butts up against our natural inclination to hole up alone together in our dollhouse-sized apartment and make fun of movies. The more we go out, and the more we have people over to our dollhouse-sized apartment, the more I daydream about parties I'd like to have: - an easy brunch. Nothing too fancy, and no on-the-spot cooking: I'll bake sweet rolls and let people help themselves to homemade granola, macerated fruit, yogurt, and slices of cold frittata. Mostly, this is a chance to catch up with friends who work weekday jobs, to show off the espresso maker The Fella gave me for Christmas, to break open the "extra" bottle of champagne my mom casually palmed off on me during a recent visit. (Which tells you something about my mother: she's the kind of person who gives away champagne. Thanks, Mom!) - a Star Wars viewing party. Okay, this one belongs to The Fella. I mentioned wanting to watch the trilogy all together some night, and he perked up. "We'll have people over!" ....yyyyyes, okay, let's! I'll bake swirly cinnamon rolls, so we can hold 'em up to our heads Leia-style. He can take charge of everything else. - a birthday party. Can you imagine a better birthday cake than this? Pistachio cake, marzipan, apricot preserves (or maybe I'd use bitter marmalade, mmmmm), and dark chocolate ganache. Swoon. Do you suppose making actual petit fours would make it any simpler? No, perhaps not. - a proper tea party. I want to unpack the box of porcelain teacups that Mom gave me, make some dainty little sandwiches and tiny pastries, and sit in the garden with friends, all wearing sunhats and sipping tea with our pinkies prinked out from the handle. I foresee only two possible obstacles: I have no teapot and no garden. What party would you give? What party would you attend?

I'm sorry: a movie review

2008-06-19T03:10:23Z

I talked The Fella into watching Bloodrayne. [I had to heave a sorry sigh before I could type anything else.] Curious about the foulness that notoriously awful director Uwe Boll foists upon an undeserving world, I insisted upon seeing the evidence. I even bounced on my toes as I waggled the DVD case at The Fella. He, who routinely comes home with packets boasting "Drive-In Classics: 50 movies on 12 DVDs!" or "Horrorlicious! Bonus features: Hostesses of Horror!," displayed no enthusiasm, which should have been my first warning. No. Uwe Boll should have been my first warning. Bloodrayne takes its premise loosely from the videogame of the same name, transferring the action from WWII-era to a generic Olde Tyme of corsets, candles, and horseback. The basic narrative, if it can be said to have one, follows half-vampire Rayne as she oh I can't go on. You don't need to know, because you'll never see it, because you deserve better. We barely even laughed at at. This movie plunged too deep for laughter. I just felt sad. Sad for Michael Madsen, a fine actor trudging wanly through this muck. Sad for Geraldine Chaplin, who brought a glimmer of dignity to her small part. Only a tiny bit sad for Sir Ben Kingsley, who (based on his previous roles) clearly likes money. Sad about the action sequences, which mostly featured bit players walking stolidly up to the point of impact, carefully aiming their blood-squibs at swordpoints. Sad. Neither of us felt even a little bit bad for beloved horror regular Udo Kier; this is exactly his kind of gig, and its pedestrian dreariness doesn't even touch him. Remarks I made during this film, in place of the hoots of laughter I expected: - I feel bad. - Michael Madsen looks so sad. So sad to be in this movie. - This is soul-suckingly awful. - Should we stop? - Oh. Oh. Oh, no. - I feel like a worse person for watching this.

Zardoz: a movie review

2008-06-11T17:44:51Z

Zardoz, 1974. In a post-apocalyptic future, a giant flying stone head named Zardoz rules over the warrior class, indoctrinating them with wisdom like "The gun is good; the penis is evil." Wait, I'll start again: It's 2293, and the earth is populated by The Brutals, who suffer under the reign of the Exterminators (a.k.a. The Chosen), who in turn are ruled by Zardoz, who (did I mention?) is a giant flying stone head that belches out firearms. Hang on, this doesn't seem to make sense. Okay: Zed (Sean Freaking Connery!) assassinates the Immortal Eternal pilot (yeah, don't ask me how you kill an Immortal Eternal) of the giant flying stone head that rules over the... Um. Look: Zardoz was made in 1974; director John Boorman was given carte blanche after the spectacular success of Deliverance, which relied on the terrible simplicity of human nature and a perfectly unaffected setting. In striking contrast, Zardoz features Sean Connery dolled up in red leather briefs with criss-cross suspender straps, dramatically flared thigh-high boots, and a Yosemite Sam mustache, a get-up that in no way enhances his overblown macho posturing as he bounds around a dystopian landscape (and into another dimension, or a vortex, or, uh, something) trying to undermine the totalitarian regime of, yes, a giant flying stone head. As sci-fi, it's peculiar. As allegory, it's fatuous. As camp, it's mindblowing.

espousing my virtues and foibles

2008-06-10T01:52:39Z

As a 1930s wife, I am
Average

Take the test!

I make a barely adequate 1930s wife, and I'll tell you why: - fails to wash the top of the milk bottle before opening it? Yes. - gives [The Fella] shampoos and manicures? No. - slows up card game with chatter and gossip? Yes. - tells risque or vulgar stories? Oh, hell yes --- this one time, I told a risque or vulgar story in a burlesque club, when we were between acts, and I ... Oh. I fare much better as a husband.

126

As a 1930s husband, I am
Very Superior

Take the test!

There oughta be a law!

2008-06-05T04:32:07Z

Hanlon's [or possibly Heinlein's] razor: Never attribute to malice that which can be adequately explained by stupidity. Callahan's principle, illustrated here on a handsome stein: You can't argue with stupid. Segal's law: A man with a watch knows what time it is. A man with two watches is never sure. Hofstadter's law, which recursively contains its own addendum: It always takes longer than you expect, even when you take into account Hofstadter's Law. Murphy's law [or sod's law]*: Anything that can go wrong will go wrong. Sturgeon's law: Nothing is always absolutely so. Sturgeon's revelation**: Ninety percent of everything is crud. *I'm assuming this link is pre-borked, or will go dead, or will crash your browser, or something because, well, y'know. **Please notice how rigorously we at macbebekin implement Sturgeon's revelation, in homage to a fine author and a visionary.

Dude, where's my vision? Brought to you by the letter C.

2008-05-30T06:34:10Z

C is for chalazion. I thought I was the victim of spider bite until the opthamologist set me straight. The lump on my eyelid is very small in comparison to all the photos I've found, but it's large enough to have caused my vision to go all wonky and produce a ghosted double of everything. I'm currently using chamomile tea bags as a warm compress to bring down the swelling, but what a pain the eye this has been. I am in love, sweet bitter love with Chinotto, but I can't help the creeping feeling I'm slowly being poisoned while I drink it. The final C represents the campground where we're staying close to the project in Port Adelaide. At night I can hear the waves on the beach (but not during the day). The original accommodation came with a cat and since I'm allergic we had to find a back up. We're in a cosy cabin surrounded by wild bunnies. Odd, but true.

roll, baby, roll

2008-05-23T06:08:54Z

It's early in the evening. There's a quiet table or two down at the other end of the pub, but I'm the only one sitting at the bar. My friend M is tending bar, doing some busywork and keeping me company. The TV perches above us, the Winter Olympics silently beaming out iceskating. Unfed, the jukebox plays a selection of the most popular songs in its repertoire. Of course the friggin' Doors pop up in the rotation. And because we're alone, M and I are the only ones who see it. The skater takes to the ice just as "Roadhouse Blues" cranks into its first notes. At first, we snort in laughter at the unlikelihood of the juxtaposition, but thirty seconds in, M and I are silenced, our mouths gaping at how perfectly, how impossibly her gliding swoops and arches and leaps suit the tempo of the song. You gotta roll, baby, roll. It's flawless. It's maddening. We flick our eyes at each other, but hate to take them off the spectacle for even that instant. The skater winds up with a grand flourish just in time for "I woke up this morning and I got myself a beer." M and I spontaneously burst into applause. You kinda had to be there.

Taking the plunge

2008-05-17T07:54:55Z

I wrote on twitter about being shy. Here's a bit of expounding: Before yesterday I wouldn't have added you as a contact unless I knew you personally or overcame the supreme sense of hesitation after seeing that you added me and thought why on earth would this person do that? When I was actively doing Illustration Friday I loved the comments, but it was so hard for me to leave one on somebody else's site. I've always been the girl who sits at the side of the pool splashing her feet while you were out there playing marco polo or whatever. I hate making the first move and for that matter so does JM--it's a wonder we'll celebrate our tenth anniversary soon. Anyway, yesterday I had a beer and threw caution to the wind. I started adding people left and right to my twitter and flickr accounts. I even left a message or two. Maybe only one, not two. Am I too weird? It's taken a while, but I think I'm finally getting the gist of this ~~internet~~ life-thing. Toes in, next the whole foot.

More trips, old and new

2008-05-16T08:49:23Z

Well, I'm not waking up at 5:00 any more like a week ago, but since then I am pulled out of sweet slumber at around 1:30 every night. There is no way I'm getting up to write at 1:30, I'm too lazy. This will hopefully be resolved by next week when we take the back roads down to Adelaide. When traveling JM and I usually hit the hay not long after dark (which is coming earlier and earlier) and wake up before sunrise and the swarms of flies. Speaking of flies, our trip with the Getaway group was great and best of all our interview ended up on the cutting room floor. Possible reason: JM mentioning the word "butt". We went to the regular Thursday night barbecue at Jol's to watch the segment and also say goodbye to the usual crowd since we may not be back this way for a few months or longer. I had such a fun time on that shoot and am grateful to the cameraman Chris who taught me how to use my polarising filter! Here's the Getaway segment about the Never Never Track and Jol's site Direct 4WD where you can book the trip if you're down this way (JM's done all his 4WD training with Jol as well). Also here are my photos of the Never Never excursion.

gloss

2008-05-14T10:08:01Z

I've been trying a few products and treatments that promise to restore luster and shine to my prematurely gray hair. Most recently, I tried a product I assumed was long extinct, an artifact of the 1970s. But no: you can still pick up a tube of Alberto V05 Conditioning Hairdressing in a drugstore for a few dollars. So I did, and that night while The Fella and I sat side by side watching a movie, I tried it out. Piercing the tube's seal, I squeezed onto my fingertip a tiny dab of what appeared to be industrial motor lubricant: thick, oily, grayish-green. I sniffed and recoiled. "Whew! This smells like old!" The Fella leaned in, sniffed, and nodded. "Yup." "This smells like old dude!" I bit my lip. "The reviews said the smell would dissipate quickly." A beat. "I'm trying it." I spread the dab of goo over my palms and glossed it onto my hair. Then we waited. Waited. Waited for the smell to diminish. And in the meantime we talked. Talked about the smell. Among the things we decided it smelled like: - old dude. Though I'd remarked upon it immediately, we thought it deserved a strong seconding. - old dude barbershop: a barbershop for old dudes, full of customers. - the nurse's office. - comb sanitizer. - cheap band-aids from the hospital. - a clean wrestler. - old dude, a third time. - Great-Uncle Bill, minus the whiskey.

Mini-rant

2008-05-09T01:32:31Z

I'm perturbed over the fact that I asked JM to upgrade Movable Type based solely on the new user pic feature AND IT DOESN'T WORK. I'm so sorry, Bu, I'll never ask you to upgrade MT again. Instead, next time, we'll switch to WordPress. I promise I'm not doing this in order to find more grey hairs. (I swear that man has no grey on his head except in his beard. Dude, you're 38 (almost). Meanwhile, all the dyes in Australia cannot keep these little hairs brown.)

products of the damned

2008-05-09T00:21:24Z

I swear to God, Spam Singles. Apparently for that subset of the market that (inexplicably) wants Spam, but not much Spam. Cynar, a bitter aperitif made of, uh, artichokes. Meat-flavored bottled water for your pet. For your pet. Not for my pet. Fruit-flavored bottled water for your pet.

Email back to the edge

2008-05-07T06:17:49Z

Just sent to Elsa: Speaking of bloody things, last year JM and I were driving down the street when he pointed across the road and said, "Bloody Santa." I began looking for a blood drenched fat man in red and white costume. I was disappointed to see only bored Santa with a sandwich board proclaiming massive discounts on waterbeds. Oh, Titus. Seems we've been in Australia long enough for the vernacular to seep in.