Thanks Tim Mondavi

What a beautiful Saturday -- excellent NJ weather, wonderful company (our good friends Dan and Mary stopped by) and good food. Dan and Mary drove up in their convertible and brought two grocery bags of fruit, cheese, wine and crackers. So very Nice!

The setting seemed to be the perfect occasion for something a little special.

"I know", Jackie said, "let's open that $100 bottle of wine that we got when we were all down at the Philadelphia Wine Fest!"

"While the four of us imbibe, we can reminisce about the fun time we had that day", I agreed. (OK , I didn't really say that, I think my exact words were "ya, let's")

This particular bottle was suggested (and signed) by none other than Tim Mondavi himself. Tim is the youngest son of Robert Mondavi and was the managing director and winemaker for the renowned Mondavi Winery headquartered in Oakville, CA (before the winery was sold to Constellation Brands for $1.3B in 2005). While at the festival, Dan and I mistook Tim for a total poser - just some old guy schlepping wine for the festival goers. "Hey, dispense with the chit-chat old man and just pour me some vino, capeche? And don't be cheap wit' it, ya bastid." A funny story for another day.

Although we had all forgotten the festival date, the bottle signature reminded us that it was May 4, 2004 and the wine vintage was a Mondavi Reserve from 1999.

So out on the deck we went - stereo playing softly and a table full of wonderful snacks. With anxious anticipation, the bottle was uncorked and poured. We all took a moment to examine the wine, swirling it in our glasses. Shimmering in the sunlight, it all looked so good, with the slightest deep reddish-brown tinge around the meniscus.

The four of us toasted to good friends, clinked glasses and then began to sip.

This going to be spectacular! This is really, really great! Hey wait, this really stinks! This wine is not complex in the least! This is very bland and tasteless! This is totally flat! This ticks me off!

Thanks Tim Mondavi... for the bum steer!

I felt like Clark Griswold in Christmas Vacation when he found out he was entered in the Jelly of the Month Club instead of receiving his typical Christmas bonus.

Borrowing from Clark, "I'd like Frank Shirley (Tim Mondavi in my case), right here tonight. I want him brought from his happy holiday slumber over there on Melody Lane with all the other rich people and I want him brought right here, with a big ribbon on his head, and I want to look him straight in the eye and I want to tell him what a cheap, lying, no-good, rotten, four-flushing, low-life, snake-licking, dirt-eating, inbred, overstuffed, ignorant, blood-sucking, dog-kissing, brainless, dickless, hopeless, heartless, fat-ass, bug-eyed, stiff-legged, spotty-lipped, worm-headed sack of monkey shit he is. Hallelujah. Holy shit. Where's the Tylenol?"

OK, I wasn't that upset, but this bottle was an unexpected disappointment. It was not the chocolaty, complex, and well mannered Cabernet that we had been hoping to quaff.

BUMMER!