This was the best weekend.
Beer and bluegrass on Friday; wine and turntables on Saturday. I brought a couple of bottles for our host—a gift that paled in comparison to a pile of vintage records, one of which was a commemorative recording of Charles and Diana’s royal wedding. Top that. When mixed with the right beats, the stuffy drone of Archbishop Robert Runcie can infuse energy into any evening.
This morning I was discussing with Carey whether the video I made could be perceived as offensive, but I decided it was too funny to care:
[2007 Bonny Doon Le Cigare Volant, 2008 Owen Roe Ex Umbris, and 2008 David Bruce DB Select Pinot Noir]
Dinner was masterful. I have reconnected with the parsnip and vitamin D milk—both of which helped me get through an an embarrassing hot sauce episode. I thought if I swallowed quickly, I would skirt the brunt of the burn, while sparing my palate for future wine enjoyment. It didn’t work. My mouth still burned terrifically and I succeeded in scalding my throat.
I kept eating, mostly as an excuse for cooling the heat, but really I was just greedy for vittles. Two shots of whole milk did the trick at putting out the flames, while at the same time satisfying me until the ice cream course—which consisted of Chunky Monkey, New York Super Fudge Crunch, something minty and something pistachio-y. I ate them all. Twice.
Thank you to Stephen and Archbishop Runcie for an incredible evening! It was deeply spiritual and we have the empty wine bottles to prove it. Carey is already itching to get back on the tables. She ordered some shutter shades for the next time she flicks her tips.
Hope you had a great weekend!