Saturday, April 08, 2006

"Bottle of wine, fruit of the vine, when you gonna let me get sober?"

The bacchanalia began next door with a variety of organic grapes and cheeses, accompanied by beaujolais and gewurztraminer. I had been the last to arrive and nearly missed out on the delicious Roquefort. We stood in a circle in the kitchen, wineglasses in hand, nibbling our way through the cheese board, listening to Mingus and laughing as their fluffy black labradore (the evil Mooch) scoured the floor for stray crumbs.

By the time we sat down for the soup course we'd already polished off a couple of bottles, which in turn mottled the stimulating conversation with glimmers of hilarity.

The menu: Mushroom Soup -- Cotes-du-Rhone and Australian Shiraz
Salad -- Reisling Spatlese
Eggplant and Potato Curry/Tarragon Chicken -- Chateneauf-de-Pape, gewurztraminer, whatever was left on the table
Little Cheesecakes -- late harvest zinfandel and muscadet
After dessert wine -- Preston Zinfandel

Hubby was sorely missed, but that didn't stop us from laughing mightily at his expense--memories of last year's Derby Day still fresh enough to provide a mountain of mirth. There were eight of us, and over the course of five hours we polished off 13 bottles of wine.

Surprisingly, I was not hung over this morning, although emails from the neighbors confirmed that they were quietly suffering, and The Purcells admitted that "things were fuzzy all morning."

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