“People often ask me why I chose to narrate a novel from the point of view of an intersex person, and my answer is, every novel should be narrated by an intersex person. The job of the novelist is to inhabit both male and female characters, so in a sense every novelist should possess a hermaphroditic imagination.” —Jeffrey Eugenides
- 4 weeks ago
- 1 month ago
This bottle is in honor of me and my fellow wine correspondent’s grim opinion of our newly accepted full time jobs (it is also to honor the 3rd correspondent, for she has maintained employment for a while now). As much as we tried to thwart reality and stay happily unemployed forever, the jobs have found us and smacked us in the face with a little taste of adulthood. SO, here’s to now affordable, somewhat more expensive, definitely more frequent red wine! May it give us the umph we need to live through this thing, may it remind us of future adventures and may it allow for happy reminiscing of our past 2 years and fuel our desire for the next round.
This particular bottle is woody with a lingering mineral finish. Couple that with dark cherries. Affordable with a high rating and easy to drink. I enjoyed inside the pool escaping the 110 degree heat index of the day.
"A sweet, rich, fragrant, pure expression of refined Pinot Noir that, after half an hour, was fully aroused, more soft fruit, with a hint of raspberry. On the palate, it was distinctly sweet, mouth-filling yet with a relatively modest alcoholic content (13%), a velvety texture, a touch of sprightliness and a refreshing finish" … or so they say - we don’t really have the $6,000 a glass it would take to find out for ourselves.
Louis Latour Pino Noir Bourgogne
Overall: a smooth, almost thin (I think wine snobs say ‘translucent’) proper red-colored pour, better as the night went on.
Tastes like: cherries at sunset
Hangover risk: we’ll see tomorrow
Makes you want: to wear fur to the film festival that you already have tickets for
- 1 year ago
the beach and, you know, a coupleabottles of nice wine.
Long before the beach was a theater of bodies stuffed into tiny suits, exposing as much skin as possible to the sun, beach-going was often a strictly medical undertaking. For centuries we looked to the sand and surf as a fully-stocked pharmacy. But first, we had to get over our fear of the sea.
Any 17th-century European pirate could tell you terrifying tales of sea monsters dwelling in the dark waters. A pirate was about as likely to swim in the sea as a pilot is to jump out of his plane.
“In the Judeo-Christian biblical tradition, the boiling sea is where great awful beasts come from,” says Dr. Robert Ritchie a senior research associate at the Huntington Library in San Marino, California, who is researching a book on the history of beach-going and seaside resorts. “The fear of the sea has biblical origins with the great flood destroying all creatures. As it retreats, it rips away the land leaving all kinds of detritus behind.”
In fact, no one thought of the sea as a particularly friendly place.
Read more. [Image: Wikimedia Commons]