WineandtheCity

Between the moon and New York City

Okay, so it has been a little while since I posted anything, but I'm back and soon we'll all be caught up. I am in New York, of course, having made a graceful exit out of the store on a record sales day. Friends ran down the street trying to get in a quick good bye, but I wasn't having it- it was time to go! On Friday there was one last dinner at the 13 Coins Restaurant near the airport. We ate and drank until it was time for me to go to the gate, so I was with people I love until the last moment. Felt great. One of the best nights I've ever had, actually.
And now? Now my life is mostly taken up with commuting to work ( I am at a temporary office in New Jersey- this is called 'reverse commuting). I take two subways and a bus and it takes about an hour. Unless, of course, it starts to SNOW, and then it takes all damn day. Now that I have been fully immersed in the World of Snow in New York City, I have this to say: the snow in New York is exactly the same cold, white, wet powder that falls on the rest of the Earth. It is just as magical, and then, just as irritating as it is in the rest of the world. My neighborhood looks a little prettier than others because I face Central Park, and that's very pretty. Otherwise, it's alot like living in Russia. We are all wearing every article of clothing we own, much of it is at least ten years old and very unfashionable. We all have the same grim, determined look on our face as we march off to the Gulag, otherwise known as the subway. The long, shadowy concrete tunnels that connect Manhattan's subway stops are lit by long tubes of florescent lights, or, occasionally a lone single bulb swaying in the breeze. There are eerie sounds, too- whistling winds, random screams and shouts, and the roar of the trains. Sounds like prison to me! I have been on the perpetual lookout for the 'Subway People'- you know-the ones that supposedly live under the subway tracks, but so far, nothing. Thank goodness! In addition to the Proletariat- style weather and clothing, there is the inevitable potato knish, the official cold weather street snack of New York. See, whenit snows, the pizza guys and the hot dog guys all have the sense to pack it in, but the knish people quickly replace them. You stand in a long line, curious to see what it is that so many people are huddling around for. once you are in front of the cart, you are given a waxed paper bag and you give them a dollar. The bag contains a knish- something that I have long fantasized about. After all, it consists of two of my favorite things:potato and pastry, and combines them into what I was sure was going to be an orgasmic treat. Well, here's the rub: they give it to you COLD! That's right- cold mashed potatoes in a soggy, crumbling crust with no seasoning. This is what we were waiting for? Yikes!
Fortunately, a gal like me has other dining options, so I'll forgive New York the knish and get to the business of desribing Union Square Cafe, one of Danny Meyer's restaurants. This charming spot looks like " Trattoria meets Spanish Villa"- it is three stories, has large square ceramic floor tiles, a mix of Important Modern Art, white linens and tiny chairs. I couldn't tell you for sure what is on the menu because it was too dark to read it. I ordered the first thing I could see, which was rack of lamb. It was beautiful. My dining companion had the special, Lobster Pot Pie, which was also glorious, although it was a nightmare to pick out a wine for this meal. We decided to drink the best wine on the list, which in our opinion was the 1994 Quilceda Creek Cabernet Sauvignon. So good, we drank TWO bottles- never a good idea but a common pitfall once you get rolling it is hard to stop .I really think that all fine wine shoud come in a one-liter bottle- it's just a better size!
Duty calls- there's no easy way to say 'that's all for now' , but there you have it. Tomorrow I go to Jean Georges!!!

No Regrets!

My last days in Seattle are coming to a close, and although I didn't see it coming, it's ending pretty...badly? sadly? quietly? I don't know what the right word is to tell you the truth. Work is more than I bargained for, with the new buyer out sick, leaving me annoyed but not overburdened. Actually, it could be busier and I would feel better. It was strangely quiet today, so I fear for tomorrow and the next day...my last day!!! Praise God!
Last Saturday was my official going away party, with about forty of my best friends. It was a great party, full of delicious food and wine. One guy that I don't know very well brought my 'Wine of the Night". a bottle of Ojai 'Hudson' Syrah. Geez, I wish I'd know him better! That's a guy I would have liked to have hung out with! Another guy, one I know a little bit better, came all dressed up. He was at an auction, though, turned out it had nothing to do with my party, but, anyway, I'd never seen him so dressed up before and I thought, geez, I wish I had hung out with him a little more!
Isn't that the way it goes? And, are we really taking people for granted? Maybe I did enjoy each of these people to the fullest while I was here. Maybe what I'll do is stop wasting time watching TV when I could be hanging out with friends, drinking wine and getting to know people.
Turns out I have a 'bodyguard' coming to NYC with me for the first few days. Selfishly, I'm glad. I won't have the privacy needed for a good, long cry. I'll have to buck up and keep a steady gaze. I think that's for the best. Besides, this guy has friends already in New York, so maybe I'll get to know some dressed-up, great wine-loving Manhattanites on my very first night! Who knows? Anything can happen: it's New York!!

Blacklisted!

Because our actions have cosequences, I will not be going to the bowling/winetasting/eight ball party tomorrow night with the rest of my town's Upper Wine Echelon. I always assumed that buyers never really had to face any payback for what they dished out to wholesalers but I've learned my lesson now. And, who better to learn it from than two of the industry's most arrogant, ill-informed, obnoxious, and irresponsible people than the two that run that company? One is a former sales rep of mine; someone that I trusted with enormous amounts of business and leeway only to find out that he was selling all his allocations of fine wines to one of my competitors while denying me the wines. Mind you, these are allocations that he got because he was doing so well in his territory. Doing well because of me! And he gave all his cherries to the other account! Now, it gets really interesting here: he started a distributorship with the guy that owned this wine shop! No kidding! They use the wineshop guy's Dad's money to pay for it. And, they are surprised that I don't want to buy any wine from them!! They think I'm a real bitch because I don't want their $60 bottles of Chardonnay and Merlot from Napa Valley. Isn't that rich? One of them looks like he's strung out on coke all the time- I daresay this is while people want to party with him...it certainly is why I want to. Right. Because there's nothing better than that to do.

Buyer Flyer Miles

I'm busy recruiting/ preparing to interview the candidates for my assistant in New York. What a daunting task. Further complicated by the fact that some of them are asking really difficult questions like, ' What is your management style like?", and " Can I take free trips to Europe at the vendor's expense?" Sigh. I was hoping to duck this one for a long time. It makes me think that my management style is going to be, " I stick my head in the sand and look the other way." But, you can't if you want a really close team. Full disclosure is best. Vendor trips are one of the perks coveted by people in the wine business, but they are fraught with complications for people in the grocery business. There's a policy that says 'We are all equal, we all deserve to be treated the same, " and yet, the likelihood of the produce buyer being invited to Hawaii to look at a grove of pineapple trees is very slim. On the other hand, the likelihood of the wine buyer being invited on a ten day trip through Italy is quite high. This is why some people want the job. It is a part of what keeps me here on a bad day. So, I've sent this question off the The Bosses ( I have seven ), to see what they say. Stay tuned.

Goodbye Wine Group

I've only ever belonged to one wine tasting group my whole life. I don't know how to crack the code that has some people in ten groups while I have only ever had this one. Last night we met for what will probably be my last time and I was felling really melancholy. When we started tasting the Champagnes ( all 1996 vintage wines), our attention seemed to be on anything but wine. We talked about football, baseball, Russian men, as in, handsome or not?, and cupcakes. I don't know a whole lot aoout sports, but cupcakes I know, and as I joined in the fun, I realized that this kind of adolescent banter is what I love in a tasting group. I don't really want to sit around and discuss the finer points of wine on a Sunday night. I do that all day long. At five pm it's like my brain flips a switch and all I can do is gossip and listen to music. So, maybe this is the only group I'll ever belong to, the only one that never demanded my opinion or really commanded my attention. I'll really miss it. Here, then, are the tasting notes. If you want retails, please email me and I'll let you know.

1996 Vintage Champagnes:

Jose Michel: a nose of juicy pineapple fruit and cream, a little sourness, really interesting
Gaston Chiquet; Very popular with the group, it had a yeasty nose, creme brulee, pear fruit, but I really thing that I prefer the GC non vintage brut
Clicquot: Sulfur-y at first, light, pale, lemon chiffon pie, a little sugary
Fleury: I love this winery.Very dry, egg-y, toasty, with vanilla extract. Brioche. Yum!
Bolly Grande Annee: My favorite, if monet were no object. Very spicy, very elegant mousse, a little short on the finish, but I think I was losing my touch at this point.
Charton-Taillent ( spelling?) Lean, minerally , might have been different if it had been poured in an earlier spot, but I found it rough going at this point.

Next, we had a miserable bottle of domestic sparkling syrah, and then it was time for dinner.
Dinner wines:
1996 Beaux Frere Pinot Noir- Showed its usual cola notes. I just can't get excited about this winery.
2000 Vietti Barbera d'Asti Tre Vigna: many many red plums, under much, much acid
Castello di Bosso 1996 Corballa: why? cran-raspberyy, tobacco, olive, too crisp!
some Chateauneuf-du-Pape from peter Weygandt that I've never heard of ...1998 Ch du Morre du Tendre ?
raspberry, cocoa, ccherry liqueur, in a soft, Pineau d'Aunis style. Fetching.
Okay, I am bored silly trying to do this right now. Off to work.

Business as Usual...

One of the things I fantasize about most frequently when planning my new New York life is the thrilling number of new contacts I'll make. Distributors, reps, brokers, winemakers, customers, man, there will be so many people. It's one of the reasons for the blog-even if it bores everyone else to tears I'll have some kind of record that I can go back and look at. That is, assuming I'll remember anything about the meeting. I can't tell you how unusual it really is to have a first meeting with a new importer degenerate into a scene from some high school senior party ( seriously- there was dope and Pink Floyd ). And this evening pretty much started off that way, right from the get - go. I didn't show up my usual self. These days, I feel the arms od one coast rapidly letting go of me, and another one slowly extending a hand, and I was not prepared to meet anyone else here, in Seattle, who gave a shit about me. Enter the forward looking host, and his guest, The Importer, in what was to be a smallish dinner party for five. I knew everyone very well, except for The Importer, so I felt comfortable. Comfortable is a synonym for, oh, let's say "It won't matter if I show up with three hibiscus martinis under my belt and act like an ass all night"...you know, that kind of comfortable. Did anyone else see Hannah and Her Sisters? Remember the boozy old Mom?? get the picture? So, I had not done my part in showing up all professional-like. I showed up rather buzzed - like, and was completely taken aback to meet a tall, slim good-looking guy....good-looking in a taller, younger, Richard Dreyfus kind of way. In fact, he looked just like one of my college boyfriends all grown up. Except that those kinds of guys never look like they get any older, do they? No. Not at all. It's all boyish good looks, soft, curly locks of hair flecked with gray, and crinkly laugh lines around kind eyes. Wine? There's wine to try? Sure, I'll try some wine. Sure, I''ll try another. Three, four, five, six, maybe seven glasses later we were flaked out on the couch listening to Pink Floyd talking about our lives. Frankly, I blame the dog. Our host has an adorable Jack Russell terrier that kept running around feeling everyone up, kissing and slobbering and in general, being a huge flirt. It was in the air. And although it all ended shortly, sweetly, and fondly, the sad truth is that I can't remember anything about the wines. I remember one wine from the whole night, a dazzling sauvignon blanc that took my breath away ( well, I was pretty breathless to begin with ). There is no consensus of opinion as to which wine it was, as I was not being taken seriously that night by anyone, so now I am going to have to buy a bottle of it and see if it is the right one. If it is, I'm thinking about making it the very last wine I buy for the home shop. Think of the sign I could write :-)

Raw Adrenal Nearly Killed Me

Shocking, but true .On the advice of a well-meaning sister I started to take a raw adrenal tablet for adrenal gland support. This was a virgin foray into supplements-use, and it will no doubt be my last. I have no idea what our adrenal glands do, but if mine need more supporting, they'll have to look elsewhere for help. I was so sick. We're talking about an excrutiating all-over bodyache, nausea, fatigue. I had to cut my lunch with Bernard Sparr short! I couldn't eat one piece of quiche, for crying out loud. Disoriented and distraught, I taxied home, buried my face in a soft shawl, and wept. I fell asleep watching 'Top Gun' and woke up at three, feeling considerably better. I couldn't bear the thought of not attending the wine tasting, no matter how miserable I thought it might make me.
I'm glad I went. There was someone there I've long wanted to meet - he works for Terry Thiese and Michael Skurnik and will be one of the people calling on me when I get to Manhattan. Aside from the fact that he married a ballerina, he seems almost perfect. What is it with men marrying ballerinas? It used to be that guys were snapping up elementary school teachers like they were going out of style. Now, the trend is to get a ballerina. It's not enough that they are stick thin and flexible, and have a career in the performing arts? Now, they need husbands? Get over it. You are supposed to be married to your career.
I even went to dinner, and there did not seem to be as much of a love fest for the aforementioned person as there usually is. IN other words, I got my fair share of attention, which is all I'm asking for. Head's up; Campagne is serving a really delicious fig ice cream .Tastes much, much better than any actual fig I've ever had.
Today I struggled over grimy, hard-to-read blueprints and added up the number of wines I'll be able to carry in New York. 500. Ina city where most stores have 2000+, I'll have 500. Survival of the fittest. Let the Wine Olympics begin!

Tomorrow

Monday.
Monday after inventory, no less. It will at least 3a.m. before I get to sleep, and I have 'brunch' with Bernard Sparr at 11 a.m. Monday morning at Cafe Campagne. That's eight hours to get home, undress, watch 'Sex and the City', fall asleep, get up, shower, get dressed, watch more 'Sex and the City' and ride the bus downtownto get to the restaurant. Something's soing to have to give . Perhaps I. will give me a ride downtown! That will save me about forty-five minutes! If I could move a TV into the bathroom I could save time that way, too, but I don't see it in the near future.
After brunch , I'm going to a tasting. This is an 'Independent' kind of wholesaler, one so full of its own virtuosity and preciousness that it has totally forgotten that I was their number one account, and about twenty percent of their revenue for the first year of the business. Now they are embarrassed by this, and of me in general. I, in turn, despise them for this but have myself over a barrel because I have turned my customers on to so many of their wines that I pretty much have to stock them or suffer a loss in sales. So, I'll go to this tasting, where I feel like an outcast in my own backyard ( a backyard that I provided a pool, a cabana, and a fence for, I might add....) and will further be insulted by not being invited out to dinner afterwards. I know that there are two dinners: ona at a small bistro where everyone will be able to properly worship Her Majesty, The Mighty, The Meek, The Ever-So- Modest _____ ____________. See? I can't do it. Can't write her name even in this tiny corner of the world. Sigh. Is there no refuge from her allies? Then, there is a definitely B-List dinner at a place I have eaten at once and did not like. Bad mashed potatoes. What excuse is there for that? None. Absolutely none. I do not go back to restaurants that cannot even fix a plate of potatoes. Can't be trusted. So, dinner's out for me.
Anyway, there ought to be some good stuff on here this week: gossip, tasting notes,etc....

Packing for a New Land

New York City is so different from Seattle that it might as well be Europe. And packing to move there is no small feat. Consider that this is a " suitcase and UPS move, " and it is also going to be Winter. Winter in New York! Now, that makes me think of spiked hot chocolate, Handel's Messiah on the radio, and shopping like a lunatic. It makes others think of horrible, freezing cold, blizzards, and icy winds. As if! Like I'm going to go outside! Don't be ridiculous. My own apartment is nice and toasty; the subway is about 100 steps from my front door, and I am going to work in a glorified shopping mall. How could I possibly get cold?! I hate the outdoors, and do not plan on going outside until April. I have enough wine to last me until then, and I will have alot of meal delivery options. And, I have a cook! Yes, that's right, a cook. Now, all I need is a car and driver and I will be in business.
I knew this was going to be a snap. Ha ha ha! 30 days and counting til I get to NYC!

I Hate Personal Questions

Someone advised, " Fill out the 'About Me " section of your site, otherwise no one will know who you are...."
Isn't that the whole point?
I want to write thngs that I could get in trouble for! I want to write about what really goes on in the wine business, the slick, nauseating, supplier-driven side. Tell you who I am? No way. Not a chance. You're either a member of my family, a very close friend, or you just fell into this by mistake. I know it doesn't look like much yet, but it's going to get good, I promise.