I was having dinner with my wife and stepson in Berkeley last evening, at a place that serves wonderful Japanese-influenced French food (at least I think that's how they describe it; we eat it with chopsticks.) The wines available by the glass were limited; I ordered a glass of Riesling from NZ which I enjoyed, and then I saw, on the bottle list, a Vermentino/Grenache Blanc blend, and imagined, somehow I'd discovered a kindred spirit halfway across the globe, so I ordered up a bottle straight away.
I should explain, I suppose, that I made a Vermentino/Grenache Blanc blend this Fall; it's just finishing up its' fermentation now, and I'm quite excited about it. I think Vermentino in California may be one of the most intelligent choices there is for making tasty, versatile white wine that never gets tiresome, or heavy or dull. And it was, naturally, a source of curiosity to find that someone else had decided to combine the same two grapes.
The bottle was brought to the table, opened and presented to taste, and I was astounded, on raising the glass to my nose, to discover the strident, nearly impenetrable perfume of new French oak! Ew. My word, what a bad idea! Who did this? You couldn't discern what it was made from or where it came from to save your life. Had I stumbled into a parallel Universe, where my evil twin abides? Yikes!