Good Grape Wine Company

July 10 2007

Wine Not?  U Vint Wine

Two years ago, as a wedding gift to me, my wife gave me a gift certificate to a wine U-vint place in Indianapolis—it was something that we could do together and it was a show of support for her glancing concern for wine juxtaposed against my near mania.  I thought the wine idea was a fun and thoughtful gift, and not inexpensive, either.  The store in Indianapolis, Grape Inspirations (insert wordplay groan here), is a franchise from a Canadian operation called “Wine Not.”  The gist is you taste through the wines that are available at a tasting bar, decide which one you prefer and then you participate in the “winemaking” process.  I chose an Amarone, mostly because it was the most robust of the reds and unfortunately, in this situation, I drink a disproportionate amount of red to white.  Here, as is the case with “real” wine the whites shine much better at this quality level.

The “winemaking” process is pretty simple since it comes from concentrate—you basically put it in a sterile container, sprinkle some yeast on it and then come back to bottle—the store personnel do all of the racking and any maintenance on the wine, including administering the oak chip soak bag.

It was a nice gift, but I was getting nervous.  It produces four cases of wine and the wine, initially, was thin and, frankly, not all that great.  When I say “not that great” what I really mean is I wouldn’t use it for a Coq Au Vin, either.  They say to give it six months in the bottle.  I waited six months and, again, it was thin and, frankly, not all that great.  Meanwhile, while I didn’t mention anything to my wife, I continued to pull bottle, after bottle, after bottle of purchased wine for through-the-week consumption.  I knew she was biting her tongue, and she knew she was biting her tongue, but I wasn’t owning up to the fact that the four cases of wine in the basement kind of sucked and I don’t like to waste my bottle chooses on something I wouldn’t really enjoy.  I waited another year and, well, it was kind of thin, not offensive, but, frankly, not all that great.

My nervousness was reaching a nadir because this is not wine meant for the long haul.  Three years is probably the top drinkable shelf life for this stuff.  So, imagine my delight, when this past weekend, after two years, I pull a bottle and lo and behold this Amarone, while tasting more like a $12 house blend than a $50 Amarone, is now perfectly quaffable.  It’s a pretty simple wine, nothing profound, but in terms of bringing through the week pleasure, it’s perfect.

I remarked to my wife that this wine was now drinking pretty well and I revealed my “secret” fear that I was going to have to make the wine disappear.  She laughed, expressed similar concern and then gave her implicit approval that I could now make the wine disappear—properly—because I think I’m going to have to drink all of it in the next 6-9 months.  Ah, such a burden.  If anybody wants to try a bottle ask nicely and I’ll send you one to kick the tires on. 

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