Yesterday, we popped the first cork on the Tempranillo for dinner. That is a bit of a nerve-wracking and satisfying moment for me. I love the first aromatic trace of the first bottle. Visually, the first pour--the deep red color--of the Tempranillo reminded me of the juice of black cherries.
But what sealed it was when my wife tasted it first and made the noise. A crosshatch of surprise, relief, and pleasure. She nodded and said it was good--maybe even better than the Petit Verdot...which is an awesome grape and makes an easy-drinking wine.
So far, everything we made has tasted great--at least we haven't completely ruined a batch yet.
We don't share it too much! We've brought bottles to family functions and parties--and it goes fast. We entered a bottle in a local community fair and won a third-place ribbon, but received no criticisms from the judges remarks. All in all, we make some good drinking wine.
And that's why we make it--we make it to drink it. Not stare at it on a wall. Wine is our favorite vice.
Each time we make a batch, it takes anywhere from 3 to 6 months for the process to play out. A six gallon carboy will produce 28-30 bottles each time. We would love to build up our supply, so we often have a batch of something fermenting. However, the build-up of the supply is coming along like a herd of turtles--that's what happens when you drink it.
Neither of us has taken a class. We don't know the vocabulary. We just purchase the supplies, follow the directions, and let chemistry and time work its magic.
And we drink it.
You don't need a degree to drink it and enjoy it.
from A Dictionary of Victorian Slang (1909)