Still alive...just unplugged for a bit.

First of all, let's get this straight. I suck at blogging. There are a lot of things I have been bad at... such as playing the guitar (but I am not giving up...actually really just need to try to begin), running a distance of more than two hundred meters (note use of meters) and drinking just one drink. But I may actually be worse at blogging.

Please don't give up on me though. I will get better.

Well, well...well. It's been a while. Not just a short while but a long while. I have been in Tours for the last 3 1/2 weeks after a really great ride that carried me through Alsace (Strassbourg and Colmar), Avignon, Orange, Tours, Rouen, Bayeux (Normandy) and back to Tours. Where I went to rent a bike and somehow within a half hour had signed up for a 4 week French class. So I have been hanging out in Tours for the last bit and quite enjoying it. I have found that I am still much better at the part of school that doesn't actually involve school. My French has definitely improved as I started only knowing a handful of words. But my ability to find and be found by the classmates who prefer an evening dinner and wine/beer seems to have once again been my greatest success.

The bar the school frequents is rightly named the "Ganguette" and it has quickly become one of my favorite spots in France. It is one of those places that old and young mix all bonded together by beverages and dancing. The kids even have a little jungle/play area. The Loire river and Tours stunning bridge provide the background visuals and the air is always filled with laughter and music of some sort whether it be a d.j or a band of any international persuasion. Never a standard program for this bar as Cuban, Swing, Dance/electronica all seem to take a turn. Last Friday, there was a Santa Clause with a gun and a megaphone running about. It would have been nice to understand what he was saying as laughter and awe seemed to bound about when he spoke and wry smiles when he began to strip.

The "Ganguette" is a special place as it seems its arms are wide. It reaches out to everyone and it really just seems to pull people even the dirty hippies (as my friend Bruno called them.) It's a combination of things that make a great bar and I will admit that I can't recommend the wine selections or even the beer at this bar but sitting alongside the Loire with a cool breeze shuffling by as a gun toting Santa Clause yells into a microphone oddly works. The wine was cheap though and sometimes we all need a good dose of cheap wine.

So as the school has progressed, it seems I find myself more and more meeting classmates and having drinks. The school is filled with a lot of really bright kids most from 18 to 23. And a few sprinklings of random people like myself here for one reason or another. For me it is my second language and my second attempt at a second language. My class is mostly 18 to 24 except for my friend Saad, a doctor from Saudi Arabia. I had lunch with him and 2 other Saudi students yesterday and spent mostly an hour or so talking about our countries, learning about Saudi Arabia and laughing with them. Saad told me I should come to Saudi Arabia to visit him sometime and I look forward to that day.

At the Ganguette and in Tours, 16 year olds can drink. Honestly, the kids I saw drinking were more in control than I had been when I stumbled upon Strawberry Boones farm in High School or found a basement party during high school. Who would have thought I would have went on to open a nice wine bar.

Quite frankly, I must admit I like buying drinks for 18 year olds. There is even a 17 year old in my group of friends. My friend, Max at 18 has been kind enough to buy me more than a few. I have to remind myself they are 17 or 18 at times as the way they carry themselves much better than I did at their age and quite frankly better than I do at times at my age now. Discussions with them always seem to involve me learning something new about Europe, Mexico and a varied range of other topics.

So I leave on Wednesday or Thursday of this week to meet up with Cally and Andrea in Paris. I am sure the wine will be flowing and I am sure the food will be great. I will post shortly after that. I also have to remember to post my notes from Alsace (as Joe and I met up with the Great Christian Artzner) and had a blast in Strassbourg.

Ah.. the bubbles.

I am not sure quite how many I had during my three day stint in Champagne. By all estimates I am quite sure I registered at or near 3 trillion. We enjoyed, Paul Misson, Jannison Baradon, Abele, Pol Roger, Pommery and Dom Perignon. We also saw the Champagne caves at Pommery and realized quickly they are not hurting for money.

My esteemed travelling companion, Joe set us (Mike, meg and I) up at a tasting with Richard of Dom Perignon that covered 11 wines, touched on several vintages and well, made me feel as though I had somehow snuck into the upper echelon of society. But as I sat and listened, I realized the pretension and pomp I had expected was non-existent and it became as warm as an experience I have ever enjoyed in wine.

Regardless, I can assure you, I quickly kicked myself back out as soon as the opportunity arose. But for those few fleeting moments on July 11th from 11:30 to approximately 2:33:15.0076, I armed with well versed tastebuds was sitting with my esteemed friends at that table drinking as if my bank account and ancestry was that of a very well to do aristocrat.

Quite frankly, Richard didn't just allow me to sit there he made me feel I belonged there and there is no higher compliment I could ever give to a host. The highlight of the wine tasting was the tastebud tantalizer, the 1969 Oenotheque with a close follower the 1975 Oenetheque. I left with a deep respect for a Champagne house which has become one of the most recognizable brands on our big green and blue marble. Our tasting was completely eye opening, and as the vintages shuffled back in time, my respect and understanding of the history, style and ageability of Dom Perignon immensely increased. Despite my years in the wine business, I had never been afforded the opportunity to taste older vintages of Dom Perignon. Quite frankly because "money doesn't grow on trees" and more simply because no one else ever ponied up the cash and invited me.

I can now re-confirm and attest that something mysterious happens to great Champagne as it ages. It becomes philosophically revealing as layers upon layers emerge. And as one tastes, one changes themselves.

Richard is the winemaker and as I have found with several of the great winemakers of our time, he is also a full time philosopher. I am working on organizing my individual notes and if you would like to read them upon completion please let me know, I am sure they will be available by 2010.

Just so you know... here is what is coming down the pipeline for Drinkabout. Thanks for reading and thanks for encouraging me to post more. In particular a shout out to Carl and to my nephew Gabe. Just in case you start seeing some random posts about trains please know there is a very smart 3 year old checking this blog every other night and telling me to, "Post more Uncle Jake." Gabe already knows that no one in the world has a better train system than the French...now you do too.

SOON:
Alsace with Christian Artzner (formerly of Schlafly and soon to open his own Alsatian Brewery). An unexpected foray into a German Brewhaus with him. Pictures and notes from Alsace's incredible cuisine.

Notes from our tasting at Dom. Zind Humbrecht and all that is right with the wine world.


It would be wrong at this point to not afford you the opportunity of a sneak peek into those notes.

The highlights...
"The style of Dom Perignon is not technical it is blending, it is creative"

Heavens speak. So our tasting began in early afternoon and by 1:30 we still had yet to see the sun as both Reims and Epernay were overcast with layers of slow moving clouds. We were sitting in a long narrow room just off of the church in what f my memory serves me correctly was once the library. The room was painted with warm colors and we sat at a long dark table in a room that wouldn't be considered flashy nor would one say it was stark by any means. It was one of those rooms designed to invite one to stay awhile but was also uncluttered and without visual noise. Therefore allowing one's attention to remain focused on the bubbles in the flutes before them and the people around them.

So as we tasted the 1969, the clouds mysteriously parted and sun beamed in the windows. Joe took notice and Richard delivered very poignantly, "Welcome to Dom Perignon."

After three days in Champagne consuming insanely large amounts of bubbles, only once did I joke, "I really need to have something other than Champagne." To which, I believe Joe remarked simply, "Champagne"

A man comes into town... to eat and drink. Barcelona and Ronda.

Well, well and well. So far it seems most days are like this.

Church, Museum, Bar, Home.

Or Church, Bar, Castle, Museum, Park, Home.

Or Beach, Bar, Church, Bar, Home.

And last night it was Bar, Bar, Bar, Bar, Bar, Bar, Home. Next day Church.

And I suppose that is how I roll or rolled or am rolling. I am in Sevilla now after a whirlwind tour of Barcelona, Grenada, Malaga and a smaller town by the name of Ronda in which I stumbled upon a pretty suave sherry bar. (note picture above) The good time had at this wonderful establishment would have been just a bit better if I didn't have so many water spots on my glass. I am glad to report that it has been the only serious violation I have found concerning water spots thus far. I am not however suggesting in the least bit that all glasses have shined and sparkled but that a majority have been deemed sufficient and not required further inspection.

I was fortunate in Ronda to meet up with two of the shops regulars, Mark and Alena and their wonderful kids. Of course we took in a wine bar and the tapas were outstanding and the wines at about 3.50 a glass definitely delivered. Vino Blanco always hits the spot in Spain.

So I am going to back up a bit and take you on my word tour of Barcelona. The highlight of Barcelona was meeting up with a former customer, Erica and her husband Jonathan. Friday night, I was invited to a wine tasting for Ribera del Duero wines. The tasting was in Spanish but I was provided with a solid translation by Jonathan and even picked up a few words on my own.

So the hit of the night was the Alion 2005 (second label of Vega Sicilia) and the evenings wines were followed with a nice selection of cheeses, pan con tomato, some jamon serrano and blood sausage. Had a bandito not tried to lift my wallet at the subway stop a few hours prior to this nice event, I would have brought my camera and taken some nice photos of the event but I left it and my phone at home. It was a rookie traveling mistake.

Often I find in cooking that some of my favorite foods are simple. Pan con Tomate has certainly found beauty in its simplicity. It is easy to make... toasted bread, rubbed with garlic and fresh tomato then drizzled with olive oil and a bit of salt. Often one may then place a bit of cheese or sausage on top.

On Saturday, I found myself walking around a street by the name of Las Romblas in Barcelona and found their market after a stellar breakfast of Chocolate con Churros. Basically donuts and a warm seductively beautiful chocolate drink. Oh if Homer Simpson was a connoisseur of food he would eat and drink nothing else. (Thanks Amanda for the recommendation) A lively, massive market the kind that breathes life and teases your senses. The market was compartmentalized just as a store with sections for everything you could imagine. Now, at this point in my trip I had taken around 60 photos. In the two hours I wandered around in the market I took about 70 photos. Eventually, I will learn how to post them to the web as I hope to have captured a bit of that wonderful market and the intensity of thousands of people looking and buying with all their senses. If only I could have convinced one of them "Tu casa es mi casa". I am coming to dinner tonight... it's okay, I am an excellent guest and I'll bring the wine.

That evening I met Jonathan and Erica for dinner and had once again one of my favorite wines from Bierzo. The Corullon by Alvaro Palacios from the Mencia grape always delivers in a French Burgundy sort of way. Earth, animal scents, a bit of funk that wafts in and out and a smooth delivery down the pie hole.

That's it for today. I am going to start posting more as quite frankly I think that is the whole idea behind blogging.

Hola, Madrid.

So I took the show on the road, but you already knew that.

My drinkabout was kicked off with a wicked event at the ole 33 last Saturday. I think by the end of the night my arms were tired from the amount of hugs I had given out. I also had the pleasure of being hugged by Shamus a few times. During these times, Shamus who is 7 feet tall ( I round up ) lifted me high off the ground and swung me around. It was kind of disturbing to those watching but oh so fun for me. A sincere thanks to all who made the trip in on that Saturday or during the last few weeks and months to say good-bye.

So I jumped on the plane...literally with a realization that a much needed re-centering was about to begin.

I thought briefly about giving the liver a few days rest as over the past several weeks I had spent my fair share of saying good-bye with a toast and hearty farewell. That idea ended rather quickly as I found myself on Tuesday walking through a jam packed plaza in Madrid. Miraculously my liver as it usually does took over on auto-pilot and steered me directly into a bar for an order of Paella and glass of Vino tinto followed by Vino blanco. I thought it would be nice to try the Spanish equivalent of our house wine. The red from Rioja for approximately 2.75 USD (thanks to the latest screaming while falling dollar) was so, so but okay. So I switched to the white and well, well, well. Rueda Blanco came through again and I thought to myself about all those Rueda Blanco's that graced 33's by the glass list over the last several years and teased your summertime palates.

Get this... There is a statistic for Madrid stating it has 6 bars per 100 residents. Well here is a little something about something. I walked the streets in Madrid on a Tuesday night until a little after Midnight and they were packed. Not just one full bar, not just one full street. I saw families with little kids out at 11:30. (The kids were not drinking.) I saw people of all ages listening to music, drinking wine and eating. Best yet, they were enjoying it.

I left for Barcelona the next morning as I am set to return to Madrid for a few nights before my flight leaves to hurl me back across the ocean for a two week regrouping in the states before the French segment of my Drinkabout begins.

Also of great note. On my first day in Barcelona I was walking miles around and I became somewhat parched and decided it would be best at this time to quench the thirst with water. So I stumbled into a grocery store and found this glorious revelation not far from the Sagrada Familia. 1 liter of water costs 1.50 Euro. Wine costs 1.35 Euro.

So I bought a bottle of wine. Actually, as I write this I realize I should have bought wine. I am sorry if I let you down. But I can assure you it was for my health whose needs may may not always coincide with the needs of the drinkabout. I can assure you only in certain threatening decisions will I choose water over wine. One is serious dehydration, the other is if a bandito held a glock (not the musical instrument) to my head.

Now, lets go back to the Sagrada Familia. Sagrada Familia is a stunningly beautiful and a bit odd church began by the famous architect Gaudi in 1882. It is still not completed. In fact, they expect the work to take until after 2020. They did however finish the gift shop and it seems to be fully operational.

My thoughts: If wine costs me less than water, I would get less work done as well. On another note, it kind of does away with the idea of how cool it is to turn water into wine. This now represents a net loss business situation of .15 Euro. Not so cool anymore at least from a financial position. Still a somewhat wicked trick though.

That's it for the first installment from Europe. Thanks for reading. Keep your nose in the glass and your ear to the ground. I am going to a Spanish wine tasting tomorrow evening with a 33 customer who now resides in Barcelona.

It will probably give me another chance to work on my Spanish. Yesterday, I asked someone speaking Spanish if they spoke Spanish.

Tu hablas espanol?

Oops...

Porrons and me... and mi coche.

This is a picture of my Ford Escort ZX2 purchased from the Great Franz Basler (my grandpa) in November of 1999.

This has nothing to do with my drinkabout but it should be noted that on Sunday, April 26th at approximately 10:00 PM...

It was ghostriden.

There is now another dent in the hood if you look closely, it is on the right of this picture.  

Before this we were drinking out of a porron.  A porron is a Spanish drinking vessel most often found in Catalonia that sometimes helps people think ghostriding their car is a "good idea."  

In accordance with Missouri State Law our driver was below the legal limit.  

To Catalonia, I will go... 

In preparation...

In preparation for the drinkabout.  I, Jake, at the age of 35, have... wait for it... wait...just a little longer...this is really something. (Note on a personal level, as if this isn't at all personal, someone, a female recently told me, "You are really something." I don't know what to think about that..but I digress back to the important matter of this blog.)  

I suppose that is enough waiting.

I, a single male at the age of 35, moved back in with my parents... into the same room I lived when I was 4. There is a small stuffed Kermit "the Frog" still in my room.  

This allows me a few very important things.  One, no rent while I become an international man of leisure.  Two, I get to spend time with my parents as I will be gone for quite some time.  And three, I get the pleasure of moving back into my childhood room.  The pictures above are actual photos of the wallpaper in my room.  Life is good... in a really odd sort of way.  

The next picture, I would like to share is a simple picture of the floor in my room.  It is shag carpeting.  My friend Joe says, "Shagless." Funny Joe, It will be real funny when you are left on a train to Moscow and I get on the train to Alsace for the second stage of Drinkabout 2009.  More on that stage later but for now I leave you with this picture of my carpet.  Doesn't it warm your heart. 

Did you know?  "Because of its plushness, shag carpeting is virtually incapable of giving rug burns." 

30 days till departure...  

It's coming...

The European Drinkabout begins on June 2, 2009 in you guessed it, Barcelona.  

Drinking establishments in Spain, France, Czech Republic, Hungary, Croatia, Germany, Belgium, Italy, Switzerland, England, Ireland are already on the Drinkabout.  

If you don't see your country listed, please check back soon. Due to overwhelming demand, several application/requests from foreign dignitaries and Heads of State are still being reviewed.

Keep your nose in the glass and your ear to the ground...but not at the same time.