Now without tantrums.

The last time through a stretch of business and wine classes, I was a mess from working wild hours at Perry's, and my GPA took a hit. I was always tired. And when tired, I tend to have meltdowns. Well, whenever I'm stressed on something I have meltdowns. So far I've been lucky. This time around, I'm pretty much all business, deadly focused. Chef Lev is a more interesting instructor as well - a dry, quick wit - so I'm taking more from these classes than I did the first go 'round. The business of designing La Forchetta Bistro took up my entire last two weeks, and these days it's all Italian, German and foritfied wines of Europe, minus France, which we covered the first time.

A few useless observations pertaining to wine:

• The power of suggestion is everything. If someone says they smell burnt almonds in a chianti, 30% of the class will agree.
  
• I'm a wine idiot. If there is not an obvious aromatic note, it all just sort of smells like, um, wine.
• Same goes for flavor. I can speak on taste in general terms, but a chianti tastes a lot like a cab tastes a lot like a late model Volvo for all I know.
• Think of Germany. Engineers. Utilitarians. Manly, passionate world-beater types, right? But they produce the mellowest, sweetest white wines you can imagine as a national past time. Riesling? Sissy wine. Especially next to-
• California wines, which are huge, flavorful and very high in alcohol. I won't bore you with the agricultural reasons behind this, but California pushes the world market on producing wines that leave you plastered after dinner.

Some tips that will make you sound like a wine big shot:

• Ask if they have any Super Tuscans on the menu.
• Smell a white wine and say, "good ML."
• Point out a $150 red on the menu and say "that's a great pizza wine."
• Shake your head slowly and sigh "...pinot noir is so over."
• Mention that Cava is the new Champagne, but say it like it's a big secret.
• Ask your server for a Chianti, but demand a Classico, and a Riserva.
• Claim a red wine almost reminds you of a fall day.
• Then say it would pair beautifully with chantrelles.
• If it's a white, swap out fall day for a spring rain.
• And then swap out chantrelles with roast quail.
• Smell a Riesling and say, "You can really smell the slate, can't you?"
• Say terrior as often as possible. If pressed to explain, mention dirt and sun only in the vaguest terms.
  

So tomorrow is the final, and I've studied like hell - it should go fine. It's actually been kind of a drag of a month, all things tallied, so closing the books on this stretch will be nice. I can get back into a kitchen and really lose myself for a while. Granted, it's baking and pastry next, which isn't my favorite, but at least we'll be getting dirty again.