What else would I drink while reading about Comanche warfare practices for my upcoming Masters exams? If you guessed Sangiovese you would be right. I am having a sip of the Montevertine 'Montevertine' 2006 (Sangiovese, Canaiolo, Colorino), for the usual reasons: I opened it yesterday, thought it might have been corked, too oaky, etc, waited, and and tried it again today.
The key is trusting in the wine shop you work at, and sometimes blindly buying something you should probably know something more about. I can really only sell things well that I like, or at least know well. My co-workers have stumbled upon my "tells", the words I use when I (rarely ha) don't know enough about what I am trying to sell. My lucky charm word is 'phenomenal',,,, as in "this wine is good, but this one is "phenomenal"..... try it! I have a pretty close 97% success rate with it! Who's gonna argue with a slightly outdated and awkward word said with such gusto? Not many people friends, not many.
I have been absurdly lucky in wine this year. I stumble upon things that I may not know the value of yet, but hopefully, I wait a little, and like the "empath" I sold wine to yesterday, I feel things out, and let the weight of my good fortune and now-knowledge hit me in its own time. (Think vertical of J.L. Chave white Hermitage from '81-2007, minus 2 years)..... that one is still sifting through the back part of my brain, but I carry the tattered old tasting notes I took that night with me, a weird talisman, but the physicality and poetry of those notes grounds me, and makes me remember its okay to be in a place where I am still learning.
Back to today's Montevertine, I am glad I waited with this wine. It may be a year or so young, but there is something about the combination of dusty light-currant acid and central corded structure that is elegant and supremely restrained at the same time. The smells, as they were, seem to be inside the wine (if this makes even the tiniest of sense), enfolded, and wrapped, instead of worn so lushly on the sleeve. I have lately been drinking a lot of frappato and gamay, so the leanness at the core of this wine is a welcome change.
I don't usually drink during the day, or at least not "blog" about it, but it is a Saturday, and I spent the morning walking around buying absurdly specific regional cheeses. There is a strangeness to the week also, perhaps because I haven't thrown myself so headlong into studying art history/anthropology for many months, perhaps because I am sensing a similarity to the structures that I use to learn about new wines, terminologies, practices, terroirs, etc. The two subjects are becoming neat and seamless in their concurrent appreciation and appropriation into the brainiest parts of my brain.
Do I sound drunk? I'm NOT. I am trying to take a day off for god's sake, and my brain won't really let me. The Comanche ('Nermerneh', or simply calling themselves 'the People') became the terrorizers of the Plains by the 18th century, with their fast adaption of the Spanish horse (1598 with Don Juan de Onate into New/Mexico territory). In under a century the former Shoshone forest dwellers perfected their horse riding skills, could now freely raid their sedentary enemy tribes on the northern NM pueblos with ease, and also hunt bison.
The detail that is sticking with me from the studies of the last few days: in combat, the men would paint their faces in black streaks, they "devised the grimmest and most striking war helmet on the plains: a headdress made from the bison scalp, in which the great, thrusting horns of the bull buffalo were retained. The stark horns gave the mounted warriors a frightening and unforgettable appearance that no enemy forgot." (Comanches, "Death in the High Country", 112)
This must have been something to see, and terrifying. Happy spring everybody!
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