The Wine Leading the Blind: Summer Whites for the Bored and Broke Palate
If you’re anything like me, you’ve already purchased all your tickets for summer travel, but, as said travel has yet to happen, you find yourself alone, bored, and broke in the steamy mid-summer evenings. Under such circumstances, I often find contentment on my porch with the latest issue of The Economist and a glass of something chilled (blasphemous as it may be, I can’t stomach the thought of most red wine, save a lovely light Pinot, throughout the better part of a D.C.
Having soaked my palate in several white burgundies, Loire whites, Bordeaux and other Sauv Blancs from various regions throughout the world in previous weeks, I wandered into Calvert-Woodley (a favorite wine shop) last week with the aim of finding something completely exotic and new, as I was both bored and impressionable. The catch: it had to be $10 or less.
My facial expression must have said it all, because the kind clerk approached me with a cautious, “May I help you?” I usually enjoy wandering around the store before asking for assistance, but my work-weary eyes and brain had zero interest in squinting at labels and recalling random vintage and region facts. So I took her up on her offer with a simple, “I’m bored with my whites, and I can’t spend a fortune.”
Sympathetic, she ushered me towards the Spanish section of the store, as my eyes widened and I began to put my hands up, palms first, as if to brake her, much like my dog does when she realizes she’s at the vet’s doorstep. “No…no…I don’t really do Verdejo,” I uttered, breaking my own rules/maxim. The truth was, I’d really only had three or four Verdejos, tops, in my life, and had not been impressed.
“Trust me on this,” she said, pulling a bottle of Bornos Verdejo from the shelf. “It’s more like a sauv blanc, but it tastes like apricots. It’s really different. And it’s $9.99.”
Sold.
In addition to the Bornos Verdejo, I searched high and low for a sparkling wine that didn’t cost $30 (because, let’s be honest, most will not fork over serious loot for Champagne, and it’s really not a good habit to get into anyway). I sampled a lot of subpar cavas and proseccos, convinced anything French would cost more than a limb, but I remained fruitless in my search until last weekend, when I picked up a bottle of Charles de Fere, which absolutely blew me away.
Both of these wines, well-chilled, are welcome refreshments after a hot commute home or on a lazy Saturday afternoon.
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By Lauren McNally
Lauren B. McNally is a communications consultant in Washington, D.C., who spends most of her free time exploring culinary and oenological pursuits with friends. She hails from Maine and graduated from Bowdoin College, completing additional study at the University of Cambridge in the U.K.(where she found the dining hall cuisine rather offensive and repulsive, as opposed to that of the top-ranked Bowdoin Dining Service). Her palate is ever-evolving but she includes California Zinfandels, Cotes du Rhone, and white wines from Burgundy and the Loire Valley among her current favorites. Her least favorite wine-related phrase: “I don’t like _.” Lauren also enjoys cooking Italian and French cuisine, and has an unnatural obsession with Gorgonzola and pancetta.
About The Humble Gourmand
The Humble Gourmand is a monthly online publication edited by Alison L. McConnell, a Washington, D.C.-based journalist and writer. It is designed to offer straightforward lessons and advice to aspiring cooks, oenophiles, and all other eaters and drinkers.
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