The winner was sweet...as usual

It's almost Fair Time!! Just two more sleeps, as a friend used to say. Happy happy joy joy!

As has become our annual ritual, Rob and I hung out last night with a bunch of wine snobs and judged this year's entries in the Home Winemaking Exhibition for our Fair. And, as usual, the evening was blog worthy.

It was a smaller collection of concoctions this year. So much so, we also got some meads and liqueurs thrown in the mix. I guess they are usually judged in tonight's beer competition instead? There were also fewer judges, although several were familiar faces. In fact, as soon as Rob and I entered the tasting room, a fellow judge and wine maker looked at us and said, “HI! I only see you guys once a year...here.” I had forgotten her name (Heather) but immediately recognized her as the highly experimental garden-variety wine maker who produced a fascinating yet not terribly tasty bell pepper/peach wine last year.

Per the judging rules, Rob and I sat at different tables and judged with people we didn't know. I ended up with two older men. Bill came in late, introduced himself to Brian, ignored me, established himself as a very experienced judge, and bragged how he timed his late arrival perfectly to miss the boring speech that emphasizes the importance of the judges writing comments to support their numerical scores. Does it surprise you that Bill wrote very few comments on his judging sheets, deeming them unnecessary? Me neither.

Turns out Bill and Brian vaguely knew each other from a boy scout troop long ago. Bill was still connected to many of the parents in the troop while Brian was largely mystified by the roster of names Bill insisted on running through. There was much relief all around when it was finally time to bring on the wine.

We judged probably ten wines. The maximum possible score is 20. I think our scores ranged from 5 to 14. One year I judged an amazing Sauvignon Blanc that ended up with 19 points and a really fancy ribbon. No such luck last night.

Our county is somewhat overrun with blackberry bushes. They are weeds here and people burn them, chop them, Crossbow them, curse them, and, when all else fails, ferment them. So of the 60+ wine entries, I would say at least a third of them involved blackberries in some capacity. Looking for some novelty, we scoured the collection and snagged a Merlot, a Chenin Blanc/Muscat/Gewürztraminer blend, some strawberry/rhubarb/raspberry blends, and the highlight of weirdness: a lime/mint blend.

Bill and Brian thought I had lost my mind when I proudly put the lime/mint wine on our table. No sense of adventure, those two. We opened it up, poured it in our glasses, and were impressed (not in a good way) by the amazingly foamy head that collected in each glass, much as one might expect from a root beer. Bill pronounced a zero score for the wine's appearance because the bottle's label clearly said “Not carbonated.” Brian and I suggested that the carbonation was probably a mistake, not a lie. So knocking off a lot of points made sense but perhaps not all of them? Nope. Bill was really offended by those bubbles.

The rest of the wine wasn't much better, unfortunately. There was lots of lime but no hint of mint anywhere. The smell behind the lime was a mixture of dirty sweat socks and some scent from an Asian restaurant that is still driving me nuts trying to identify. The taste was limey and had that minerally, metallic flavor of club soda. I can't remember the overall score but I do know that as soon as we handed in our sheets, Heather...of last year's bell pepper/peach creation...came over and said that the lime/mint wine was hers and she had overheard our comments and it wasn't supposed to be carbonated, she didn't know what happened, and it tasted really good when mixed with club soda. When I asked her what type of mint she used, hoping to solve the Asian Restaurant Mystery, she replied, “Just stuff from my yard.” And this is why I judge every year -- awesome answer!

So back to the Asian restaurant smell: every wine drinker has their own dictionary of familiar scents and flavors to draw from when trying to describe a wine. Their dictionary is a reflection of their life experiences with foods and cooking and spices and nature. So reflect as you will on some of the other descriptions I wrote on various judging sheets last night: Elmer's glue, canned green beans, Mountain Berry Kool-Aid, strawberry jam, pear juice, and castor oil.

That last one...castor oil...prompted quite a conversation between Bill and Brian. After I noted that one wine had a distinct castor oil aftertaste (Brian agreed), both of them started reminiscing about the need for constipation relief as children and then remarked how much easier it is today to just take a pill in such a situation. Then, as I watched the wheels turn down a mental path, Bill turned to Brian with great seriousness and concern and asked, “Have you had a colonoscopy yet, Brian? You know, you are at the age that that is really important.”

I didn't hear the rest of the conversation due to the laughter in my head. But once I recovered, I had no doubt: I will so totally be back next year!