A few nights before the new year, a pretty bad flu kept me up at night long enough to start thinking about all the different things I will promise to do and not see through in 2024. In a very typical move of mine, I piled several past failures into a big, risky mud pie: Learn more about wines, rediscover music, and write more. A quick visit to godaddy.com, a Tamiflu pill, two Tylenols, and a few dollars later “Friday, wine day.” was born.
As a general caveat, I must warn readers that I know nothing about wines or music. However, I am an erudite in the art of overcommitting on New Year resolutions, overthinking, and utter procrastination. Be it as it may, here I am.
The album I’m listening to is Everybody Else Is Doing It, So Why Can’t We by The Cranberries. I have to tell you, other than Zombie (which is not in this album) and Linger, I can’t say I’ve listened much Cranberries in my life. So far, I’m loving it.
When it comes to the wine, I thought it was only appropriate to start with my first love. I was lucky enough to live a few years in gorgeous Barcelona (I’m sure she’ll show up more than once during this year). Coming from California and originally from Argentina, I was used to big wines. Those that slap you on the face when you sip. Eager to explore “old world” wines, I ventured into some Spanish, Italian, and French wines, but my palate was not subtle enough for them. One night, without knowing it, I was about to fall head over hills in love with a place called Priorat. The culprit: an unassuming, extremely affordable bottle of Alvaro Palacios, Camins del Priorat. It doesn’t matter exactly how it happened now; all I know is that, for the first time, I was able to “taste” a wine. [Linger is playing now. I absolutely love this song. Dolores’ voice is quite something] It’s ridiculous, actually. As I’m tasting it right now, almost five years later, it still puts a smile on my face. There’s something about finding familiarity in a place that feels foreign. I grabbed the bottle, read the label (I absolutely loved the design), googled “Alvaro Palacios,” and that was it: love at first sight.
There are infinite bottles of wine I opened before and after this one that are better, in my opinion. Much better. But in the matters of the heart, scales mean nothing. As “Still Can’t…” starts to play, I can still taste the alcohol in my mouth. Priorat wines are known for their high alcohol percentage (I think), and in a wine like Camins, you can taste it. My Five Guys bacon cheeseburger pairs amazingly with this wine with enough tannins to cut through the fat of my fries.
Camins has a deep, dark red color. Long after an hour of having poured my glass, alcohol dominates the scene. For a $25 wine, it has very stoic tannins and a finish that fights to stay present as much as it can. My nose is quite useless, but my imagination vividly screams plums and dark fruit.
A great friend once told me that the best wine is the one you like. And Camins is not just the wine I like; it represents the excuse that led me to discover the most beautiful place on earth, that finished amalgamating my heart with Catalunya, that made me leave a piece of my heart in Barcelona and take a piece of her with me.
Love is passionate and beautifully impartial. Imagine, then, how biased first loves are! Camins will always have a special place in my life. I’ve had more passionate loves, more sophisticated ones, more experienced, more delicate, and crazier. But no other love can be your first love.
PS: I’ve also listened to the song Dreams in the past, now that I remember. But it’s not my favorite song. I do get why Linger has been so popular. See you next Friday!
Friday, Wine Day 