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.
“It’s OK.” He then started to walk away. “Not great.”
the drunken cyclist 
Ouch, your life will be tough, my friend – you have one serious wine critic growing up… What is hos opinion about Krug?
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We don’t give him any Krug–that’s still an ‘adult drink’.
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that is very wise… However, there is a good chance he will appreciate it : )
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That’s what scares me!
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wow some legs at the top of the post. Yowsa Yowsa Yowsa
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You know who’s those legs might be?!?
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Can we still be imaginary-bloggy friends if I tell you I don’t like champagne? If they made red champagne, I bet I’d like that! 🙂 Yes, I’m the Ellie May Clampett of the wine world. Except not as cute. Maybe I’m Granny. Yeah, I probably am. Cheers!
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Dead to me…
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I understand. It’s the price I pay for blaspheming like I did.
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I joke. You just need an intervention (or maybe some shock therapy), that’s all….
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HA, that is EXACTLY how I feel about Pommery!! You’re raising a smart kiddo there…
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Ha! I am trying!
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That’s awesome. Tho I’m a little torn because its a rite of passage for young drinkers to go thru Cold Duck, Cooks, an Korbel.
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No it’s not–that’s called child abuse….
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The apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree, I guess. 🙂
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Oh so this is MY fault?!? 😉
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Hysterical! You better closely catalog those bottles when he gets older!
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How right you are!
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