Drodstyhof, Red. Priceless.
Delivered and drunk from a snowgum plastic traveler by drinking buddy (DB). Can life get any better than this?
Smells and take like toffee and cola. That might be the remainder of the coca cola I had this afternoon. MMMmmm warm coke and cheap wine, a cocktail? DB is sitting on the bed beside me, she can taste toffee now too. But DB’s nose is itchy and she has a parasite. DB's parasite is a wine connoisseur. So cheap wine lady had a little chat with it.
Me: Noseless, don't you think?
Parasite: Are you kidding man? Get a whiff of those dried plums!
Me: You mean prunes?
Parasite: I dunno, but it is there and it is strong and ripe and would almost be delicious if had some more body. I like my wine like I like my women. Gimme some ripe and curvy, voluptuous fullness! Get the girl to drink some more, I be thirsty. By the way, tell her stop with the meds already, it hurts my feelings.
Me: I taste those plums! I taste boiled fruit and sugar. A little spice.
Parasite: That's nice.
Me: You?
Parasite: It tastes dark. If you can taste dark. This is a dark wine. Like the dark emotional state I enter when pondering my mortality. We are all going to die some day aren't we?
Me: With bad Kenyarn ice-cream it tastes like Rwandan ham that has turned.
Parasite: Fuck the ham,I am utterly and thoroughly depressed that this girl wants to kill me. Where is my beautiful house?
23 January 2009
3 November 2008
lime green envelope. at toast to moi!
Penasol: Tempranillo-Garnacha, Spain (no year)
Approx 5000RwF, Nakumat
[notes taken by those left behind]
Cheap wine lady is currently out of Kigali and was honoured to receive the following correspondence from a fellow cheap-wine(drinker)-in-Kigali:
Ms. X said we must take notes for you, so I grabbed the only piece of paper that was near me at the time (a lime green envelope containing a birthday card) and dutifully took notes…
Has a nose…a bit like dirty tennis shoes…reminds me of my son when he was 17.
It’s got a nose – it’s not great, could do with some work.
Lovely ruby colour…vin rouge.
Prickly on the nostrils.
Sharp, off, Vitamin B….healthy!
Acetic acid
Bitter chemicals
Ooh…I’m not sure about this.
I’ve had enough of the Aussie wine not to notice it is foul.
Light tannins, do I taste oak? If you can taste oak you’ve got a better imagination than I have. No, I don’t taste oak. Citrus, Peppers.
I need to take a wine course.
It’s got good length, not good depth.
I like to say things that are intelligent: it really opens up.
It’s like a shy Englishman; it opens up after a while.
I don’t actually reckon it’s too bad.
It gets better as time goes on.
There you go…reportage direct from Kigali.
Cheap wine lady: direct reportage indeed. And finely executed. I love big noses (more to suck on), have played tennis at least once, imbibed chemicals in my youth, and regularly take vitamin B (thanks Berocca) but shy Englishmen are such an incredible bore. I won't be losing sleep over this one.
Approx 5000RwF, Nakumat
[notes taken by those left behind]
Cheap wine lady is currently out of Kigali and was honoured to receive the following correspondence from a fellow cheap-wine(drinker)-in-Kigali:
Ms. X said we must take notes for you, so I grabbed the only piece of paper that was near me at the time (a lime green envelope containing a birthday card) and dutifully took notes…
Has a nose…a bit like dirty tennis shoes…reminds me of my son when he was 17.
It’s got a nose – it’s not great, could do with some work.
Lovely ruby colour…vin rouge.
Prickly on the nostrils.
Sharp, off, Vitamin B….healthy!
Acetic acid
Bitter chemicals
Ooh…I’m not sure about this.
I’ve had enough of the Aussie wine not to notice it is foul.
Light tannins, do I taste oak? If you can taste oak you’ve got a better imagination than I have. No, I don’t taste oak. Citrus, Peppers.
I need to take a wine course.
It’s got good length, not good depth.
I like to say things that are intelligent: it really opens up.
It’s like a shy Englishman; it opens up after a while.
I don’t actually reckon it’s too bad.
It gets better as time goes on.
There you go…reportage direct from Kigali.
Cheap wine lady: direct reportage indeed. And finely executed. I love big noses (more to suck on), have played tennis at least once, imbibed chemicals in my youth, and regularly take vitamin B (thanks Berocca) but shy Englishmen are such an incredible bore. I won't be losing sleep over this one.
20 October 2008
that's why the lady is a tramp
Cheapwinelady knew she needed a break when all the cheap wine in Kigali developed a distinct primate aroma, i.e. "this wine smells like monkey, it tastes like monkey too!"
So she hopped off to Rome and indulged in some I-sense-a-pattern-here lovely white wine, enjoyed at Il Moro, a laid-back seafood restaurant on the coast, just outside Rome. But alas, her indulgence left her with little-to-no memory of the name of a deliciously clean and dry white wine. It was along the lines of "Veragnolo" but she cannot be sure. With pickled sarde, seppiette con fagioloni, pasta alla pescatore, and griglia mista, this wine was a dedicated champion of all things that make life worth living for. The Asti (yes, she forgot its name too) was sweet but not cloying and went very well with a (liquor soaked) cake.
Cheapwinelady is concerned that cheap wine in kigali may be too cheap.
She is also concerned that this post is thinly veiled bragging and/or longing for a life that involves more Rome-time. Peccato.
So she hopped off to Rome and indulged in some I-sense-a-pattern-here lovely white wine, enjoyed at Il Moro, a laid-back seafood restaurant on the coast, just outside Rome. But alas, her indulgence left her with little-to-no memory of the name of a deliciously clean and dry white wine. It was along the lines of "Veragnolo" but she cannot be sure. With pickled sarde, seppiette con fagioloni, pasta alla pescatore, and griglia mista, this wine was a dedicated champion of all things that make life worth living for. The Asti (yes, she forgot its name too) was sweet but not cloying and went very well with a (liquor soaked) cake.
Cheapwinelady is concerned that cheap wine in kigali may be too cheap.
She is also concerned that this post is thinly veiled bragging and/or longing for a life that involves more Rome-time. Peccato.
1 October 2008
Elegant label
Cantine Astroni, Aglianico
Italia 2007
7000RwF Simba
[Mid-week dinner with mates. Last minute dash for wine]
Vinegar. I think it is so tsscchheetch it is actually burning all the way down my throat.
Yes, my first sip, I thought vinegary too, then I thought Jasmine.
As I swallow it feels like it scours my throat.
I am trying to find a positive thing to say. No plum. No berry. No spice. No chocolate. No jasmine. No cabbage. No love.
I have had a lot worse and drunk it.
Elegant Label. The label is good.
Italia 2007
7000RwF Simba
[Mid-week dinner with mates. Last minute dash for wine]
Vinegar. I think it is so tsscchheetch it is actually burning all the way down my throat.
Yes, my first sip, I thought vinegary too, then I thought Jasmine.
As I swallow it feels like it scours my throat.
I am trying to find a positive thing to say. No plum. No berry. No spice. No chocolate. No jasmine. No cabbage. No love.
I have had a lot worse and drunk it.
Elegant Label. The label is good.
29 September 2008
we could hold each other tight tonight
Cape White from South Africa.
7000 RwF Nakumat
[Ooops! Label long trashed, but worth reporting nonetheless]
A light fruity nose. Peachy, I can heartouchsmelltaste the peach.
This peach, he has a friend who is learning English.
Does he know how to say "I Love You"? "Get your kit off baby"? Of course, this is a fuzzy clingstone peach. Ti chiero, peaches.
Distinct smell of summer fruit, and a Rwandan-thunderstorm-perfect fresh and light taste. It is not syrupy, not sugary, it is refreshing. The moist clean smell of the heavy Kigali rains complement the clean rush of summer across my tongue. And because this is Rwanda, there is speck of a very polite pineapple. The wine surprisingly fills the whole mouth, but it doesn't stick around too long, because it knows you want to run naked in the rain and get another taste of summer.
This is white wine number #2 that I will buy again. Hello cheap wine in Kigali, we are diversifying! I think this means business!
Look for an update where I provide that useful winery information.
7000 RwF Nakumat
[Ooops! Label long trashed, but worth reporting nonetheless]
A light fruity nose. Peachy, I can heartouchsmelltaste the peach.
This peach, he has a friend who is learning English.
Does he know how to say "I Love You"? "Get your kit off baby"? Of course, this is a fuzzy clingstone peach. Ti chiero, peaches.
Distinct smell of summer fruit, and a Rwandan-thunderstorm-perfect fresh and light taste. It is not syrupy, not sugary, it is refreshing. The moist clean smell of the heavy Kigali rains complement the clean rush of summer across my tongue. And because this is Rwanda, there is speck of a very polite pineapple. The wine surprisingly fills the whole mouth, but it doesn't stick around too long, because it knows you want to run naked in the rain and get another taste of summer.
This is white wine number #2 that I will buy again. Hello cheap wine in Kigali, we are diversifying! I think this means business!
Look for an update where I provide that useful winery information.
26 September 2008
She wanted to know if I thought I was qualified
Hardys Reserve Chardonnay
Australia 7000RwF Nakumat
[Chopping purple cabbage]
I catch a whiff of the metallic, like drinking water from a saucepan, and I think to myself "wait, just wait, it will ease up, have patience cheap wine lady." My advice to myself is well taken, "you were right" I reply, "patience has its virtues."
I taste melon.
But you hate melon.
I know. I never eat melon, except that rosy watery kind, which does not count. But I like this made up Hardys Chardonnay melon. It is the melon you have when you are not really having melon. It is the thinking persons melon. A melon for a melon-hater with an imagination. A hypothetical melon that is worth sucking on.
Stop the nonsense.
OK.
A well integrated, complex, apple tart.
Why not apple pie?
Tart sounds more refined.
When you say "tart" I do not think "refined" I think "raw, zesty, piquant, sarcastic."
Wrong. The apple is not tart and it is not sarcastic. Think baked granny smith with a squeeze of lemon and speck of honey, but no spices. Think camping at Woodend in grade three, listening to scary stories of the headless horseman, eating damper and apples wrapped in foil roasting in the coals, and feeling too scared to play Murder in the Dark.
My thoughts and I pat each other on the back. "Your advice is infrequent, but quite useful," I quip, "we should do this more often."
Not usually that impressed by the whites here, I recommend this one, apples, melon and not oaky but not sweet. 1/2 a cup added a palette cleansing edge to the risotto rustled up for a departing Canuckster.
Australia 7000RwF Nakumat
[Chopping purple cabbage]
I catch a whiff of the metallic, like drinking water from a saucepan, and I think to myself "wait, just wait, it will ease up, have patience cheap wine lady." My advice to myself is well taken, "you were right" I reply, "patience has its virtues."
I taste melon.
But you hate melon.
I know. I never eat melon, except that rosy watery kind, which does not count. But I like this made up Hardys Chardonnay melon. It is the melon you have when you are not really having melon. It is the thinking persons melon. A melon for a melon-hater with an imagination. A hypothetical melon that is worth sucking on.
Stop the nonsense.
OK.
A well integrated, complex, apple tart.
Why not apple pie?
Tart sounds more refined.
When you say "tart" I do not think "refined" I think "raw, zesty, piquant, sarcastic."
Wrong. The apple is not tart and it is not sarcastic. Think baked granny smith with a squeeze of lemon and speck of honey, but no spices. Think camping at Woodend in grade three, listening to scary stories of the headless horseman, eating damper and apples wrapped in foil roasting in the coals, and feeling too scared to play Murder in the Dark.
My thoughts and I pat each other on the back. "Your advice is infrequent, but quite useful," I quip, "we should do this more often."
Not usually that impressed by the whites here, I recommend this one, apples, melon and not oaky but not sweet. 1/2 a cup added a palette cleansing edge to the risotto rustled up for a departing Canuckster.
10 September 2008
indulgence
Sunrise Shiraz (Chile)
5490RwF Nakumat
[Permit me a little verbal self-indulgence? Scene: 5.45pm, balcony, birthday, sun setting behind Kigali hills]
The wine has a beautiful rich deep purple colour, rimmed in the lilac reflection of the dense clouds that fill the sky. Its syrupy legs coquettishly invite a swig. Do I deny myself? Sounds of the valley - a hum of voices, distant rhythmic construction, a horn, then another, a truck goes by. I indulge.
Closer to the Shiraz now I smell herbs, earth, mushrooms and a tiny floral overtone.
Slightly tart to begin with, a little clingy in the middle, then dense and deep and dark and long but then it diminishes, so you take another sip, and you are in over your head all over again. This wine is a love serenade (thanks Mr. White). An adult wine, not adult as in zebra-print negligee, but adult as in not served at the kids table at christmas, or likes stinky cheese. It is not necessarily complex or integrated, but it lives comfortably with a few contradictions.
The sun goes down.
5490RwF Nakumat
[Permit me a little verbal self-indulgence? Scene: 5.45pm, balcony, birthday, sun setting behind Kigali hills]
The wine has a beautiful rich deep purple colour, rimmed in the lilac reflection of the dense clouds that fill the sky. Its syrupy legs coquettishly invite a swig. Do I deny myself? Sounds of the valley - a hum of voices, distant rhythmic construction, a horn, then another, a truck goes by. I indulge.
Closer to the Shiraz now I smell herbs, earth, mushrooms and a tiny floral overtone.
Slightly tart to begin with, a little clingy in the middle, then dense and deep and dark and long but then it diminishes, so you take another sip, and you are in over your head all over again. This wine is a love serenade (thanks Mr. White). An adult wine, not adult as in zebra-print negligee, but adult as in not served at the kids table at christmas, or likes stinky cheese. It is not necessarily complex or integrated, but it lives comfortably with a few contradictions.
The sun goes down.
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