Today, as some of you may already know is International Champagne Day. It is a completely made up event, by whom I have absolutely no idea, and it is but an excuse to open up a bottle of the greatest style of wine known to humans. I do not typically need an excuse (other than say, ‘Tuesday’) to open a bottle of bubbles, but nonetheless I approach this day like my own little holiday because I am nothing but a glorified drunk.
Champagne holds a special place for me in my wine education–it was the first region that I ‘studied’ and it is easily my wine of choice and it is not really close. Yes, I am also a Pinot whore, but it is not like getting married–you can have more than one love. I guess it is more like children–if you have more than one, you say that you love them both equally and that you do not have a favorite. You even treat them equally and outwardly love them the same, but deep down, you have favorite. If you say you don’t, you’re lying.
My favorite is Champagne–don’t tell Pinot, she will be upset and will likely need therapy.
Speaking of kids and Champagne, I could not wait any longer for my wife to get home to pop open the (first?) bottle of Champagne that I had chucked in the freezer as soon as I got home. (Sadly, I had forgotten about ‘Champagne Day’, but was reminded by a couple of my blogging friends. That meant I had to race home and get something cold and quick.) I was relaxing on the couch when the family finally made it home. Within seconds, my four year old made a b-line over to me. Normally, this would have made my day–he is not really the affectionate type–but he did not come over to give me a kiss, a hug, or even a punch in the groin.
He came over to get some Champagne.
As long as he has been able to ‘communicate’ he has had a thing for Champagne and always asks for a sip. Today was no exception. As he was about to take a gulp, though, he paused.
“What kind is it?”
“Huh?” I responded.
“What kind of Champagne?”
“Pommery”, I chuckled.
He paused again, contemplated, and then went ahead and took a sip.
“Is it good?” I asked.