My wife and I have started a wine blog, The Willetts on Wine. It’s mostly just a place to record our own wine experiences for future reference, but you’re welcome to pay it a visit–if it points you to a great wine you wouldn’t otherwise have tried, our lives will be fulfilled.
I kicked it off with the following poem:
Call me a Cab, but not a Spätburgunder
I beg your pardon, eh,
But I don’t like Chardonnay.
Give me Gewurtztraminer:
It has a taste that’s cleaner.
And then there’s Pinot Gris:
Yes, that’s the white for me.
(Unless I have a Tokay–
As sweet stuff goes, it’s OK.)
A Riesling can be fine,
When you want German wine.
Or some Sauvignon Blanc
(Just good stuff–not the plonk.)
Red Pinot Noir, no doubt,
Is what wine’s all about–
Although a Zinfandel
Is also very swell.
Norton? What (or who)
Is Norton? What’s he do?
A Merlot can be grand,
When it’s grown on good land.
A Vidal ice-wine’s yummy,
And Baby Duck is crummy.
But better (final thought!)
That you have wine than not.
