This is what eight was for

The safe arrival.The utter joy.

The bitter disappointment.

The sheer desperation.

Mystery Sceppo Guest Post

(Hey; I didn't say it was a _tough_ mystery...)

So I've always known I was a bit of a half-arsed wine geek. I can never remember the names, and while I appreciate a well-aged bottle I also still happily swill sangria. But still, I thought I was doing pretty good with how long I let some of those bottles in our Aussie collection age.

For Father's day, Dad cracked this out of his collection:

Yes, the number up the top of that bottle is 1976. I was six when these grapes were squished. Not only can't I imagine having the patience to wait that long to drink a bottle, I can't imagine having the nerve: Pinots apparently rarely last that long. (It was very tasty, but that paled in comparison to the aroma; this is one of the most delicious things I have ever smelt. Yum!) So I thought Dad deserved a guest blog for impressive restraint. Even Coz liked it:
...and you know how hard SHE is to please with wine...

eight, eight, i forget what eight was for

Peppertree
Merlot

2001

I had a hankering to make lamby shanks and lured over Megzz & Snerg with the sirens call of food and wine.

Wine was poured (there is in fact a video of this but I can't figure out the wonders of YouTube)

Food was eaten (was very yummy. lamb fell off the bone so less of an individual shank effect, more of a delicious goo)

Wine was enjoyed (It was really really good. I'm not a big merlot fan but thought it was delicious. I think Snerg wanted to marry it)

Snerg was given a doggie bag. (He was the driver. The toxic looking purple stuff is leftover dessert. White Wings Self-Saucing Pudding. So wrong and yet soo good)