About That Wine

Mom’s report of our trip through the Pacific Northwest tells of an unfortunate wine purchase:

The house brand Pinot Noir was just shy of noxious. We tried the Cabernet. Not much better. Finally we agreed that the Merlot was enough better than the other two that we might as well take it …

…

As we investigated our temporary home-by-the-sea, Carli found two bottles of wine, attractively presented in a little basket on the kitchen counter. Tom remarked that the red wine was much better than the one we had purchased so reluctantly. It cost slightly less. We decided to take advantage of it instead of opening the dubious Merlot.

I asked Tom what he intended to do with the Merlot.

“We’ll give it to friends we don’t like and tell them it is a fine Oregon wine,” he replied without hesitation.

Some months after the trip, I decided that the Merlot couldn’t really be all that bad. I retrieved the bottle, opened it, and poured myself a sip. It was that bad. I gave Tom a sip, and we both agreed that it was not worth drinking.

I gradually used up wine by adding a quarter cup to any sauce, soup, or stew I cooked whose flavor was hearty enough to overpower whatever taste the Merlot might contribute. It was a relief when the bottle finally was empty.