One of my little sisters got married tonight. (I thoroughly approve of the guy, as does our dad, or else he’d have ended up in a dark alley, etc., as all inappropriate suitors should. Right? Right.) The limo had Cooks on ice (shudder) and the hapless groom tried to class things up with Korbel Extra Dry. Well, OK, it’s not that hard to outclass Cooks, but still.
I’d been consulting with the restaurant about wine options, and finally I said, “You know what? I’ll buy the two bottles of Prosecco for the toast, and let’s have everybody order by the glass from the wine or cocktail menus.”
This turned out to be a stroke of genius. The bartender/cocktalian at Strings (the Denver restaurant where we had the reception) has been there for 22 years and she kn0ws her shit. (I originally mistyped “shit” as “shot” and well, dammit, she knows her shot too.) There are about 15 wines by the glass, and Strings does not relegate the cheap shit to the by-the-glass menu. There’s some seriously good stuff on there (Pouilly-Fuisse, top-end Napa Cab, etc). And do not neglect the cocktail menu, which has been crafted with care by the aforementioned 22-year bartender. I can’t remember the name (a good sign?), but ask her for the one that involves pear vodka and St. Germain. Trust me.
I have to say that these waiters at Strings went above and beyond to make sure I didn’t get glutened. Every single app they brought out, one of them would whisper to me in an aside, “Don’t eat this one,” or “This one’s cool.” They also brought food out to the limo driver. Props!
The grand finale: I feel kind of like a bitch about this, because I didn’t bring the good shit out until the bride and groom had fled to their kid-free night at the Doubletree. But I went to the good liquor store and demanded that they give me the awesome wine guy (Scott at Arrow Liquors in Littleton, if you’re interested). I gave him a price range ($25-$40 per bottle) and some flavor cues (I know Jenny likes fruity stuff, but I was all, Give me yeast and brioche and all that, and since I was paying, it was my call, hahahahaha). We ended up with two bottles of Nicolas Feuillatte Brut 2000 (I have never seen these guys do a vintage, so this was special). Jenny, I should note, was 14 when this Champagne was bottled.
And ha ha, she didn’t get any of it. She and Josh fled to the child-free confines of the hotel the moment they could get away. Can’t blame ‘em, but ha! We got the good stuff. The really, really, really good stuff. My God. Such yeasty aromas, with a whiff of French bread, sourdough and crusty baguette (all things I can’t have anymore because of the stupid celiac thing — mon Dieu, perhaps this is God telling me to drink Champagne every day instead). We inhaled the aromas and we, well, inhaled the Champagne. And it was good, good stuff.
The end. Well, not really.
I know I’ve been absent for an unforgivably long time, but I hope to make it up to you all will posts about exciting Colorado winemakers (yes, they exist!) like Infinite Monkey Theorem and Bookcliff. I am not exaggerating when I tell you these winemakers will be vying for shelf space in New York, California and Illinois within the next five years, and I’d love to help them get there.
Hope you’ve all had a good summer so far. Let’s raise a glass to air conditioning!