(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...