I have a good friend who is an
equity analyst and is beginning to be in the kind of
income range where he can enjoy the good life. About five months back, I basically
tagged along to a
business dinner he was headed to at a
trendy new
restaurant in
Boston called
The Federalist (on
Beacon Street near the state house). I was more than happy to go, as it meant a
high quality meal for free and a lot of the kind of
investment jargon I used to speak before I moved out to the country and began spending the days writing
in my bathrobe. I pointed out to my friend that the various
faux marble busts on display were not all representative of
Federalists (I think of
Thomas Jefferson in particular), but that did little to detract from the
experience. I guess I should get to the wine part, but if you would like to read a little
anecdote about
breasts, you should skip to the bottom.
Anyway, my friend really hyped up this red wine he'd recently tasted from the Caymus winery in, I believe, Napa Valley. He purchased several bottles of the 1996 vintage, but the restaurant's winelist offered the 1995 at about $150-160 per bottle; and as he explained that this was considered a superior vintage, we placed the order. Some Boston brokerage firm wound up paying for it.
I took some notes on the wine later that evening, and I came across them tonight almost at random. Nevertheless, they work well in recalling the experience to mind. It had a deep brick-red color, which I thought unusual in a five-year-old wine. It had an aroma of soft plum and spice--pleasant and not overpowering. It tasted velvety smooth, nicely balanced with just the right amount of hint of oak, and had a long, quiet finish. It was, in short, an elegant wine, and I am glad to have tasted it. If I had a complaint, it would be that it could probably have stood a few more years of age, as it was still relatively tannic. It must have been a big monster of a wine at its release. But I ordered a big old steak with peppercorn sauce, again on the broker's bill, so that was not a problem.
Was it money well spent? Hard to say. At about $30-40 per glass it seems steep, considering what you could get in the way of a vintage port for those kind of prices. But if you're looking to impress someone or have a special occasion, something like this could get people talking. I myself am trying to resist the urge to spend in the range of $200 on a few bottles of the 1997 vintage to hold onto.
As we left the restaurant, I noticed a very attractive woman walking toward us--tall, slender, about 27-28 years old, straight shoulder-length blonde hair, wearing a kind of sky-blue tube-top shirt that revealed that all-important inch and a half of skin in the navel latitudes. But most compelling (from a relatively inebriated male's point of view) were her sizable breasts. Not huge, mind you, but large for her frame, and she wore them well (if that is a proper thing to say). It occurred to me then that, were we living in more civilized times and I wore a hat outdoors, I could, without fear of censure, turn to this striking woman, doff my hat, smile, and greet her politely. But our society has left such pleasantries behind, and I was reduced to gawking mildly. Perhaps not the anecdote you expected, but there you go.
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