I like to sip a glass of wine on occasion. Usually when dining out I will order a glass of chardonnay. While perusing the wine list I have come upon some unusual descriptions of what I am about to drink. Example 1: Powerfully aromatic with very ripe fruits, and rich oak accents. A sumptuous attack leads a full-bodied palate with a smooth, textured mouthfeel. I ordered this one to experience the sumptuous attack. In retrospect, I don’t know if I was attacked in a sumptuous manner. It’s possible the wine didn't attack me at all. I’m still confused. Example 2: attractive, forward, intense, toasty, earthy, lemony, spiced apple aroma; full body; big, rich, lush, toasty, textured, ripe tropical fruit flavors with good depth. I didn’t order this because I didn’t fully comprehend the meaning of "toasty." To me "toasty" means hot. At my age I don’t need anything to increase my "toastiness." Example 3: a voluptuous wine-- with exotic fruit, spice aromas and ornate oak. The texture is buttery and rich, balanced by crisp acids. Lime and tamarind flavors come forward in the finish, sweet and with vanilla oak bringing it all to a close. I passed one on this one as well because I didn’t think I could fully appreciate the "lime and tamarind coming forward in the finish." I kept thinking "horserace." Example 4: ripe characters of peach and rock melon on the nose, leading to fresh and floral palate with upfront sweetness and a lengthy richness. Flickering scents of green herbs and country hay greet the senses. Full on fruit, the firm acid adds to the wine's briskly clean style and youthful appeal. The oak is present only to support and not to dominate. Country hay?? A non-dominating oak presence?? Help me!! Some times I miss the days when the only two wines I knew were Mogan David Concord Grape and Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill. They were both vibrant, yet subtle, with uncommon balance and elegance, full-bodied, yet unpretentious, not to mention aromatic and sumptuous. There was no toastiness, no supporting oak presence, and no lime and tamarind coming forward in the finish. And I liked it that way. I hope my book descriptions are a bit easier to comprehend than the usual wine jargon. This week we have a pretentious little title on the new fiction shelf, Dumping Billy, by Olivia Goldsmith. The author of The First Wives Club delivers a modern-day battle of the sexes-dished up with scathing wit, hilarity, and plenty of attitude. There's something magical about Billy Nolan. It's not just that the Brooklyn bar owner is wickedly handsome; it's also that any woman he dates and dumps and he dumps them all immediately goes on to marry the next person she meets. But Kate Jameson is immune to Billy's charms. She left Brooklyn for upward-mobility in Manhattan at the first chance she got, and she's not about to fall for some cad from the old neighborhood. But when her best friend Bina's engagement is broken off, Kate hatches a plan: All she has to do is get Billy to date and dump Bina. Then, they'll wait for Bina's wayward fiancé to return and for the magic to happen. But the one thing Kate hasn't counted on is how Billy feels about the whole plot and how she begins to feel about Billy.
