Not a Good Pairing
Now, I’ve written a fair bit in the past about the enjoyable or otherwise serendipitous pairings I’ve been fortunate enough to taste. So this blog post may come as a surprise, as it is, rather, all about a combination that nearly brought me to tears last night.
There I was, perched on the edge of my couch and rearing to go for the big Veep debate, a Styrofoam container of ribs, greens, and mac and cheese in front of me. And there Mrs. Wino was, right next to me, looking adorable with her barbecue-sauce mustache and tears glistening in her eyes from the extra-hot habanero sauce we’d anointed the greens with.
Everything was perfect, from the food to the entertainment to the company. And then, in a move that I didn’t think would scar both of us as seriously as it did, she took a bite of her spicy cornbread and tried to wash it down with a swig of 2006 Strong Arms Shiraz.
Her reaction was disturbingly similar to the one she had when I told her I wanted to drink wine for a living: Eyes a-bugging, disbelief and then horror clouding her face, and then, ultimately, a strong desire to share the misery with whoever would listen, which, at that moment, happened to be me.
So I gave it a whirl. And here it was, a perfectly formed object lesson ripe for the pontificating: The cornbread was excellent on its own; the wine was delicious unaccompanied. But together? A tastebud Chernobyl; a Bikini Atoll of the palate; A Soviet invasion of Afghanastan of the upper-GI tract…you get the picture.
Next time, I think I’ll just stick with cheese.
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