4 Ounces of Help

“It is one of the most beautiful compensations of life, that no man can sincerely try to help another without helping himself.”  ~RW Emerson

Tired of the math tests, or the implication that there aren’t going to be any only to find out that I slipped you a trig mickey? Well, rest assured. In the quest to make heads and/or tails of this social media bonanza while paying attention to my family and the attendant tasks of a life well lived, balanced with a mix of weed-pulling, syrah-scrutinizing and hiking, I think it’s time to add value. That’s what it’s about, right? I remember when the rage was to share with other how one was able to ride the bull we call Web 2.0. The going mantra was, “What can I do for you?” Well, I believe this to be true, and no bit.ly to justify it. For eons, or at least for the calculable estimations of human communication documented as pictographs, hieroglyphs or hearsay, we savvy bipeds have learned that the little voices inside – who utter the darnedest thangs at 3 am – have advised, cajoled, admonished and bribed us to go ahead and do the right thing. Regardless of the luncheons or the ROI. And thus was the demand for altruism from without, where the supply lay within.

Oh, crap. That sounded like a math theorem. You guys must think I’m a closet left-brainer, but I swear it ain’t true.

So anyway, the little voices sing to us today, and sometimes they sing in chords, where you’re cringing to hear what the soprano will hit you with next and the bass (think about the last time you heard a vocal chorus) rumbles the ostinato (repeating in what, on its own, would seem like a dull loop) that implies almost subconsciously, “What’s in it for meeee…Nothing in life is freee…How can I leverage this opportuniteee…” But when you peel back the layers of the song and frame it in what you know to be true in the movie you call your life, you find (may find? whatever – I’m as objective as I want to be in my own blog) that a recurring theme of this song sounds like, “Give for the sake of giving because it’s just going to happen sooner or later and it doesn’t matter whether or not you feel good but rather that it put a little more goodness into the world.” Now, in my opinion, it might seem like I’m clashing with Emerson, but what I glean from his platitude above is the virtue of giving in and of itself. I think he adds the second caveat for those that prefer to see a little payback – but only in the way that you say to yourself, “Hey, as a matter of fact that did feel good” rather than in the way of premeditated giving, like the way you donate utter junkola at the curbside more for the writeoff than selflessness/empathy.

Simple Math, Regularianism, whatever you readers would like to call my writings – it’s about what makes sense, what creates light, what adds value. The point tonight is that I want you to know more about how I move around in the wine community and try to help. I own and operate a little company called AcCELLARate Consulting & Wine Services in order to help consumers, wine collectors and vintners. Well, yeah, duh, it’s a business, but really, one has to look at one’s 16 hours a day and get a little for it. But a current event that I want to share is the emergence of what really is a competitor to my darling little winery which is owned by a great friend. I decided to do some compliance work for him (and his partners stationed around the globe) because, when he described what he wanted to do, I said, “Hey, I wanted that as well and figured out over several hours how to do it. May I help you?” (at roughly 30% of the going industry rate!) So, the result of my decision to deal with the TTB, the California ABC, the County of Napa and the CA tax board, being accustomed to filling out piles of paperwork as a winery- and home-owner, will be seen this fall in the form of The Wine Stash. Good guys, fabulous wines. I just wanted to help (and we’re not our of the woods yet but close). It’s not that this is a self-aggrandizing pro bono story, but it’s just that some fellas needed help outside of the big-box usual channels at boo-coo-per-hour and I figured it was something fun to fill my spare time with. (pshaw, for those that know how much spare time I truly have) And you might want to know a little more about the behind-the-scenes. Or maybe not. Hell if I care; this post is keeping me off of the streets and out of the mini-malls.

I think that if you’ve got something to offer, even if it’s a service or goods and thus monetized, there’s no reason not to occasionally avoid the temptation to make a killing. The favor, the advice, the simple act of random deep-fried cheesy goodness can always find a home somewhere in the world, if you place yourself in those right places at those right times without expecting this spine-tingling French horn section to clear a path to the front row for you. Some TV host once was known to say – and we ironically used to use in the trenches of the wine-sales sweatshop to do ANYTHING to close a sale – “Somewhere, some time, somebody took a chance on you, didn’t they?” He may have been implying that altruism is A-OK, that doing something nice is like putting a little back into the world that doesn’t owe you yet supports you.

Right brain checking out. Thanks for reading. Namaste.

Published in: on July 21, 2010 at 8:33 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Simple Math ’08 Chard – Silver Medal at LA Wine Competition!

Simple Math ’08 Chard – Silver Medal at LA Wine Competition!

Published in: on June 23, 2010 at 7:23 pm  Leave a Comment  

90 points for Simple Math ’08 Napa Valley Cab

I was never a fan of “complicated” math. However, as a youth, I kept up with the Joneses (my friends and fellow students) in realms academic. Why? Because it was the thing to do, because a psychologist told me to, because my high school guidance counselor urged me to – and, ultimately, because I thought that since I’d been clinically proven to have a left-oriented brain, I’d surely better inundate myself with the math-n-science rigors prescribed by those wiser than myself. One thing about an IQ test or any of the numerous aptitude batteries “on the market” is that, like the written word published online, you can’t believe everything you see. Perhaps the accelerated math-science track I put myself on represented a motivational effort, or maybe my potential, but tell you what – it was so boring to me that I imposed a learning block upon myself all throughout the torment. Given the choice between a calculator and my beloved typewriter, between memorizing the periodic table and penning tomes about Carl Sandburg, you can guess which way I pointed my compass. As humans, we just prefer to do what we love, right? So, as a result, I was a B student – my right brain earned me the A’s and my left brain saddled me with C’s.

Now, C ain’t bad, they always said. It implies that you’ve mastered 70-79% of the material, or at least have found a way to regurgitate it with 70-79% accuracy. That can be construed close enough for jazz. (Jazz, incidentally, was an obsession for me, consuming 2-5 hours of every day and garnering me some nice accolades in the trombone world. It sure beat inverting cosecant formulas and splitting hairs!) So then, the A is the apex, right, connoting perfection and all that? B is actually very good in the big picture, unless you’re engaging in the brutal college-acceptance wars as I was. Conveniently or otherwise, Cornell/MIT/Renssalaer weren’t on the financial horizon, so my cumulative B was a good deal and got me where I needed to be.

In the wine world, on the continent of acclaim, in the country of acceptance, within the province of viability and tucked away in that tiny village dubbed marketshare lies a hallowed scroll that rests in a gilt leather case. This revered scrap of rice paper has inscribed upon it but one word: CHOICE. What’s to choose? One – a vintner – is to choose whether a score from a wine critic is going to be a self-identifier or a piece of leverage. Will it toll the death knell? For some, the poor score has, but within that conundrum is the decision about who you’re asking to review your wine. You have to watch what the critics publish, learn their styles, who their heroes are, what paints their wagons red. If you come home with a crappy grade, or what your peers say “nyah-nyah” and claim a crappy grade is based on the fact that they avoided being thrown under the bus, your choice doesn’t have to be whether to go back into government work eat a can of worms. You can look at the score and remember that C ain’t bad (we’re assuming you were able to pull a 70, though I’ve only given one of those once myself as the critic you never heard of) and that this number doesn’t encompass who you are as a beautiful person who seeks justice and love and enjoys riding horseback in the silvery moonlight. You can “go git ‘em next time” if you want to. BUT – if you manage to ace the test, remember this as well – it was one critic who handed you a nice rating, and if you’ve done your homework prior to submitting your baby (bottle, that is) to her/him, you will recognize that a 90 one day could have been an 85 the next, or a 94 the following week. Every critic is human, and if you’re in the right place at the right time, that human can brighten your day just as much as if you’d never submitted wine to her/him in the first place.

So, thank you to Meridith May of the Tasting Panel Magazine for giving me a 90 on the Simple Math Cellars 2008 Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon. If there’s any left in the near future, let’s share a bottle. I look forward to reading your insightful words in the July issue.      Cheers, Christian

Published in: on June 9, 2010 at 2:16 pm  Leave a Comment  
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An Easy Math Problem

This is not a test. It’s just something for us to exercise, to keep sharp on.

Q1 : How many cases of traditional one-ounce pours does it take to keep a crowd of 3,000 people happy?

A1: About 10.

Q2: If someone says to you, “Could you give me more than just a taste this time?”

A2: First, let’s look at the qualifier ‘this time’. How many more times will it take with this person? As many as it takes to make a new friend. On the second pour, I believe one should take it to three ounces (eyeball it, study the regulated pours at your local watering hole – you’ll get used to seeing the amount). Then, without question, romance this person. You never know. (S)he could be scouting for the next best thing on behalf of a C-Level wine buyer, or… or anything. The possibilities are endless. Get a business card and/or handshake. Make it a reciprocal experience. Again, make a friend. Don’t sweat the “inventory loss” because human interaction is the true commerce to seek.

When you pull up your bootstraps and hit the road as a wine rep (meaning for your own wines, mainly), don’t be too concerned about giving wine away for free. Yes, there will be people at these events who take advantage of the situation and simply drink. Yet there’s something unique about where they went to drink, yes? And if you’re savvy (you’re in the wine biz, so you ARE sporting a certain finesse anyway), you’ll see this freebie-seeking lookie-loo lush from a mile away, knowing that IDs were indeed checked but that chronological age doesn’t necessarily mean everything you want it to mean at this moment. Take the good with the not-immediately-obviously-good. You’re marketing.

There are often two perceived choices to make when in this situation:  1) Roll over and take it like a victim, thinking of the whole affair as nothing more than schlepping 38 pounds all over Kingdom Come and pandering to the masses whilst your profits are thrown to the swine, or… 2) Make friends. Brand. Deal with it. Spread good vibes. Make friends. Make memories for people who just might be your next ten-year wine club member. Brand. Tell the story. It’s the story that wins the day.

My philosophy – remember the SAT?

If you can get rid of this analogy ————  customer: transaction

and replace it with this ———————–   client: relationship

You may find that just because you don’t see a credit card in that moment, you’re bound to be “burdened” with entering ten orders the next week, so long as you’ve left everyone with a positive impression. Don’t forget to BRAND because that’s the world we live in. Those of you with children, you get it when you consider what television can do to stultify, stupefy, STUPIDICATE a toddler left in front of it all day long for years on end. Many kids can identify products and sing jingles long before they even know how to spend money. It’s the world in which we live. Attention spans are but a glimmer, for now, so if you want to sell wine – sell yourself first.

And they said there wasn’t going to be a math test today. They were right – this is just an exercise.

Published in: on May 5, 2010 at 3:39 pm  Comments (1)  
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Let’s Save Some Wilderness!

Tonight, we’re on the dawn of an important event for Bay Area residents. I’m just gonna stick the press release here because the shadows are growing long and there’s a bit more work to do.

FOR IMMEDIATE RELEASE: 4/23/10

Simple Math Cellars to Support Angel Island in the San Francisco Bay

Description: New Micro-Winery Offers Ultra-Premium Wines to an Ecologically Sensitive Public

Windsor, CA, 4/23/10 – Simple Math Cellars, LLC , a decentralized winery with little to no overhead, no tasting room, and no limiting fruit contracts, announces today that it will provide ultra-premium wines for connoisseurs, restaurateurs and trade wine buyers to taste at the Angel Island Wine Festival on May 1st, 2010. In the San Francisco Bay, Angel Island has been a mainstay for locals and visitors as one of the most beautiful state parks in which to picnic, cycle and relax for 56 years, and it is in danger of being shut down due to California State budget restraints. Simple Math Cellars is a globally conscious winery endeavoring to preserve this historic state park, in tandem with approximately 50 other wineries. An auction will be held and numerous opportunities will exist to prevent the closure of this lovely natural fixture that has thrilled locals and visitors to the Bay Area for decades.

Unlike a traditional bricks-and-mortar winery or custom-crush wine label, Simple Math Cellars is an innovative “Wine 2.0” label operating as a decentralized negociant operation that deemphasizes “bulk” or “economy” wines but rather engenders a true boutique sensitivity in creating its wines. This allows the winery to reduce the overall cost of doing business and to pass the savings on to consumers outside of the alarmist discount, “fire sale”, or “economic stimulus” modalities currently rampant in the local wine marketplace.

As an inaugural public release, Simple Math Cellars aims to roll out wines that support ecologically-friendly methodologies and to enlighten a uniquely “green” public to a grave situation that is happening in Bay Area residents’ backyards through an event that provides a tangible solution. Attendees may take advantage of their lobbying power simply by virtue of purchasing a ticket to the Angel Island Wine Festival, knowing that a major portion of the ticket cost goes to support lobbying efforts that would help to prevent the closure of Angel Island State Park.

_______________

Simple Math Cellars was founded in August 2009 as a virtual winery offering wines at 40-50% cost savings to consumers seeking quality benchmarks.  For additional information, contact:

Christian Lane, Vintner & Managing Partner

Simple Math Cellars, LLC

(707) 542-2906

goodness@simplemathcellars.com

###

Published in: on April 30, 2010 at 5:30 pm  Leave a Comment  

Onions+Carrots+Celery = Mirepoix

Now, here’s a food review with a twist: with a look into the belly of the whale (the kitchen) during the assemblage of my food. And this is not Mongolian or Japanese, so don’t get on the stool of authority. This is French. This is Mirepoix.

The circumstances that brought me here this night didn’t warn me that it would turn into work. That it’d become a review I would syndicate elsewhere. But what is one to do when faced with the chance to redeem one’s Cub Scout training points and do a good turn? Well, one does justice to a splendid restaurant keen on getting onto a bigger map than up to this point. Restaurant Mirepoix is a study in process, and it is indeed a haven for Regularians in the sense that the experience is all about flavors and impressions rather than posture and post-dated checks. It’s affordable, adventurous and accessible. I’d wager that 99% of its clientele need to have menu items identified and explained at least once, yet the staff do so in a warm and inviting manner that precludes the need for embarrassment. With savvy at the helm and style at the rudder, the overall roster of talent here present themselves as articulate yet humble.

This is the spot for romance of a casual sort. Denim’s fine – just like at home, when one has cooked for hours to woo one’s lover, boo or soulmate. The space is like a den yet done up in white linens, and it’s situated in a simple, early-1900′s house bedecked with a porch that hits you like a hug.

I sat at the bar, snug as a bug, with direct views of the dining room and the kitchen – a bastion of process. Three chefs whipped up tiny bits of beautiful (not toy) food, in many cases rendered as reductions of a greater whole. Many entrees here remind me of collections of parts, like when I admire a layout of tools and hardware I’m about to build into something. Every component has its merit and it’s nice to have a look before that singularity is gone, to reflect with gratitude what that component is going to become. Gorgeous, not unlike the pupa-butterfly meditation if you look at it right.

Colors, consistencies, temperatures…everything dances around like synchronized swimmers or wildflowers propagating in time-lapse (only without the manipulative music and the pharmaceutical messaging). And the kitchen and logistical staff operated like perfect traffic, or ballroom dancers, or all aspects of the human circulatory system. Walk, pause, wait, proceed, drizzle, reach – with nary the rattle of or clack of ramekin or plate. The whole choreography from my viewpoint was operationally stupendous, taking me back to assembly line layouts and queueing theories from business school.

The foods and wines were like a Socratic sequence. Oboes & tympani, intrigue & resolution, cool blue lights & wispy scrims…kabuki…2-hour sets of Sasha Digweed…even Jerry Garcia sans sloppiness. A superlative head trip. mmm….garlic, poppy seeds, lavendar, goat cheese, New York steak, apple shreds, Moscato d’Asti, black pepper, Death & Taxes stout beer, rosemary flowers, foie gras (yep. I ate it but didn’t brag – read theRegularian bylaws before flaming me), cab franc, fava beans, lemon foam (they like to foam things here), black trumpets, Sancerre, tempura-battered egg yolks, sorrel, truffles, creamed potatoes, bacon, parsley…..Just picture all of the brainiest combinations of excellent, thoughtfully procured flavors. Make these the tools of a half-dozen artists that pour their souls into every moment. This was it. And again, I saw it all happen in the kitchen, like a round of auditions. You’d have thought I was a food critic with a name. These chefs were parallel to therapists, massaging and asking for feedback or administering essential oils and intuitively reading what should be the next scent sequence for full energy movement. Mirepoix remains my favorite Sonoma County restaurant because it’s such a sensuous trip.

With all of this going for it, Mirepoix’s pricing defies logic. You cannot get this kind of dining anywhere with such a light impact on the pocketbook. Make it a quiet party for the soul. Make a reservation (at 30 seats, it fills up, and the wise call two weeks ahead). Have a sensational night out, and if your 4th can’t make it, ping me because I’m just down the street and am always down to pinch hit for absent dinner guests – unless you expect me to tell funny stories.

Published in: on April 13, 2010 at 9:15 am  Comments (2)  
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A True Regularian-Vegetarian Wine-Food Pairing

Now it’s time to tip the hat to some rootsy kitchen invention as it juxtaposes with a rock-star wine. The idea is that Regularians don’t necessarily run for foie gras or emphasize cooking dishes that are difficult to pronounce, sound exotic, appear intimidating or come off as snooty. (Choucroute is one exception but it’s not snooty. Just say “choo-croot” as you combine sausage, cabbage, garlic, potatoes and so forth, perhaps throwing in a little German or Alsatian riesling. Voila. You’ve got a pauper’s meal, albeit delicious, that sounds standoffish in the wrong crowd.)

You see, Regularians go for simplicity but don’t have to relegate themselves to the humdrum, processed, nastiness that many feel is necessary to eat well without spending the big bucks.  Regularians also have license to enjoy pricey wines, but only under the assumption that it’s not about bragging. It can simply be luck. You’ve been gifted a fine bottle, right? Or you’ve gone out and spent some real money to get the good juice. I know you – you’ve done it. So here’s what went down the other night…..

Duckhorn ’06 Napa Valley merlot. Open for 3 days, argon gas on Day Two with a cork bopped on top. Sesame seed buns toasted twice to show some black. Sauteed yellow onions, diced tomatoes, TVP (texturized vegetable protein; pour boiling water into a couple of cups of these dry bits that look like Rice Krispies), a couple of chopped up Flame Grilled Boca Burgers, and ordinary 4-cheese pasta sauce. Makes a yummy sloppy joe. Season additionally, of course, because TVP is a bland base but great protein for vegetarian cooking. Grate some Swiss cheese on top. Go for it. Live the good life while nobody’s looking.

Make some mac-n-cheese on the side but instead of milk, add the best grocery store vodka sauce you can find.

Overbake some tater tots. Yes, tater tots.

Saute some Brussels sprouts cut in half. Use butter, and add fresh minced garlic. Splash in some petite syrah.

Watch a John Malkovich film with this comfort food and liberally sip the Duckhorn. It just – tastes – very good.

That’s what happened the other night, and I’m proud that my bride and I did it.

Published in: on March 18, 2010 at 10:11 am  Leave a Comment  
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Cabernet Sauvignon Tasting Trials Done

Round Two of bottling coming up in about three fortnights. The cabs are leaving their woodsy homes (barrels) to live where they shouldn’t throw stones (glass). Labels are proofed and sexy. Thanks, Dan at Richmark for making my artwork real!

My only regret is that I only learned to drive a baby forklift back in the day on the organic vegetable farm – not gonna touch the standard size until I own one or am allowed to practice on an empty crush pad. But Petar does the forking with a swiftness and a skill.

Already, the friends I’ve made are ready to roll, and I’m honored to say that Simple Math wines have some spaces cleared at shops and restaurants you may already haunt. The “trade page” will arrive soon – don’t you worry. In fact, let’s not worry about anything; let’s just be lucky!

Published in: on March 11, 2010 at 5:49 pm  Comments (1)  
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A Day of Wine Bottling Fervor

Or was a day and a half and another three quarters? Simple Math hit the road westward to his special little enclave, tucked away in the foggy reaches of Sebastopol this week. It was a lot of fun, really, with only a couple of hair-raising contingencies to handle. But as the Simple Math luck would dictate, the people in place who surround the nest like supportive mother robins helped to save the day.

Day One was terrific – my chardonnay and Sonoma Coast pinot went into bottle and onto their stacks in a short amount of time, allowing for thorough post-play investigations and strategic gyrations to take place amid a sunny yet cool afternoon. Evening One was spent coming down from a superb, brie-and-roasted-pepper-laden lunch at Chloe’s Cafe – hanging with the familial crew, without whose patience and understanding this entire project might seem to be fodder for repetitive one-on-one conversations with myself…We hung out a bit and all seemed to crash simultaneously onto our beds. (Alas, I was not the only one in the house who’d had a pretty rigorous day.)

Day Two was cabernet sauvignon – a 2007 AND a 2008, intermingled with grooving to barrel  & tank samples proffered by Petar Kirilov and Jared Souza. Decisions….but not until consummating the task at hand. There was some improvisation to be done at the speed of sound at times, which included a trip to the far reaches of the East Bay as well. Props to Armand at ACI Cork whose smooth bedside manner, enthusiasm and scientific acumen combined to ease my slightly troubled soul.  This was a very educational undertaking, and it will commence again to wrap things up in about three weeks. In the meantime, I shall be dancing one more round with the TTB and with my label printer.

More to come, with additional embellishments on the events of the week, both wine- and food-oriented. Thanks for checking in, and get your nose in on www.simplemathcellars.com for a piece of the action.

Published in: on March 6, 2010 at 7:52 pm  Leave a Comment  
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Regularians Feel the Pain of High Corkage Fees, Too

Ah, greedy shopkeeper. From whence came you? Wherefore saddlest thou the regularian with the fetters of falsehood?

Sometimes we folk prefer to let someone else do the cooking. It happens all the time – on Wednesday nights that hit as hard as Fridays after miring about in the trenches, and on holidays as well. It’s fun to whip something up for my wife but the surprise element isn’t there if we’re both at home and I can’t convince her to run some errands. That would not only be suspect but also a bit insensitive for a guy like me who has a wife like mine (re: hopelessly busy and, as a result, often tired). It’s a lot cooler in those circumstances to offer to run the errands for her. Nothing complicated there.

So, as we were both unoccupied yesterday, and feeling the love we work hard at keeping stoked like a bonfire, we decided to hit the city for a dose of art and of couture culinaire. Again, let someone else do the cooking. The first stage of the trip was amazing, comprised of taking in the Shanghai exhibit at the Asian Art Museum on Larkin Street in the city (what we in semi-rural Sonoma County call San Francisco). The Shanghai art pretty well rocked to 6-7 points on a scale of 10. That’s not bad coming from us. See, my wife’s a fantastic artist, not only in the sense of having great technical skill (check – a prerequisite), but because she creates meaningful art dripping with insight. Neither of us cares for repro art – paintings of vineyards, vegetables, decrepit barns…..argh. I am similar to her, only my art is 5% visual and 95% aural. Another guy promoting meaning and imagination through sound. So we get along nicely on the creative front. Therefore, for us, the Shanghai exhibit held many treasures but didn’t flip our wigs. The third floor (India, Persia, Burma) was one of those experiences I can’t quite describe except to say that the sculptures up there seemed to have been created by extraterrestrials. How else can I tell it? There is barely the technology available in today’s world to accomplish what certain artists rendered with their hands a century or more ago. As for insight, forget arguing. It was on. Of course, we closed the place down and will be back soon to stand rapt and weep a little bit. Then what happened next was….

Wait – interlude – we had a Champagne picnic in the car, parked at the curb with the windows down, right on McAllister. It rocked, and it happened, and there’s nothing that can be done about it now. One passerby looked in on us and quipped to his companion some trash about our status as tourists. Yeah, right. So we live an hour north, but we think we’re local enough to think we’re locals. It was fun being pegged, especially with the cheese, bubbly and berries. I grumbled at this dude past a mouthful of truffle and we had a laugh. Okay, now here goes the Regularian woe…
We went to a restaurant in the Presidio where we had a wicked-decadent time two years ago, making an anniversary memory. I don’t want to say which one, just that it’s Moroccan.

I want to say something about toy food. I don’t go out with a wad of bills or a credit card expecting to giggle at my dinner and bitch about the hunger afterwards. I go to eat and to be satisfied. And I expect my wife to be satiated as well. Toy food is cute, it looks pretty, it’s embellished with little sprigs of whatnot, and it often comes on a plate that prevents the kind of stackage I employ to save trips at parties. In other words, the plate often has a flat spot in the center, measuring about four inches across, and sort of cascades downward from the edges so that any food that might find its way outside of the center circle wouldn’t stick. So therefore the food stays within the cute circle. Therefore, with the garnishes necessary to make this entree something to brag about, there’s even less food within the circle that even fulfills a snack-level hunger. Toy food is ridiculous and I avoid it. When it makes its mark on my checkbook register, I have been had.

So yesterday, I was had. To make the matter worse, the bomb-ass bottle I brought (Pax syrah, by name) created a little bit of hassle. Not a lot, but a little nonetheless. First of all, when a server pulls the cork, that cork should stay with me. It’s unfair to assume that a couple of people are going to kill a bottle of wine at dinner. I’d like the choice, thank you.
Second of all, our glasses were topped off at every turn with a fervor that was nearly impossible to quell. My wife and I would be talking, see a shadow, hear a splash, turn our heads toward the activity, and see the rapidly-draining bottle hit the cloth before either of us could say, “You know, we’re good for now.”
Third of all, I was happy to have brought this wine. It paired well. The wine list blew chunks. Sorry, but it did. Just because I’m a Regularian doesn’t mean I don’t know good vino – I just don’t brag about drinking d’Yquem for lunch (see the Manifesto to refresh yourself on the Regularian philosophy).
Fourthly, the lastly, the proverbial straw that broke the regularian camel’s back, was that the corkage fee was $25. That’s fine at the top tier. This, however, was not a top-tier restaurant. Not by a stretch. So I had a little chat with the server, who happened to have an interesting, intellectual way about her that made me feel as though I could be candid with, honest with, “fellow industry” with. She told me her hands were tied on the issue of corkage cost but that she’d send the sommelier over for a bit of a tete-a-tete. After ten minutes, the somm comes over – the selfsame gnat who’d been assaulting our wine glasses prior to getting the nod! – and looks waaaaaaay down her nose at me. I show her three of my business cards. She ignores them. I ask for some kind a break on the corkage if not simply because I work 16 hours a day producing and promoting wine. She tells me that the costs of storing the wine and the glasses – and the glasses?!?! – is the reason the corkage is what it is. And she adds that the fee is also due to competition. Um, (fast forward to when I ask my pillow certain questions I should have thought to ask a person earlier in the day)…competition would almost naturally create an impetus to lower the corkage fee, no? Exorbitance in a climate of corkage fee rebellion would naturally foment a sort of gentle breeze of reform, would it not? Diner loyalty would be earned by throwing a guy a bone, wouldn’t it? I’m not Clive Cussler, but I do have some things to say in this industry that actually reach sentient people on a daily basis. But it was a stonewall. A wash. A futile, one-way conversation with a person whose head had been replaced by a pumpkin wearing an arrogant sneer.

What the heck is going on in the world when I’m being charged like a celebrity in a restaurant entirely devoid of celebrities? Gouging, is what. I won’t go back, and I’m sad about it. What’s the point here? If you can see a corkage fee listed on a menu before you visit the restaurant, all the better, but maybe it’s alright to have out about it if the fee’s a surprise and the overall experience doesn’t justify it. If you think I’m whining, so be it, but the last time I looked, California was engaged in a corkage reform movement that would create more traffic in restaurants that so greatly desire – and often deserve – our patronage. The more real we are with ourselves, the more real we can be with one another, setting us further along the path of promoting positivity.

Published in: on February 15, 2010 at 5:40 pm  Comments (1)  
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