After telling us a story about some Spanish winemaker who passed out and drowned in a vat of his own wine, Roberto led us back into the gift shop and upstairs into a small, empty dining room for the anticipated wine-tasting portion of the tour. I was relieved to see that tables were set up based on our respective parties, so we wouldn’t have to bump elbows with unsavory strangers. Roberto led Corey and me to a table next to the Bangs Party, but there was enough space in between us to keep us happy.
Roberto disappeared to fetch the wine, leaving enough silence for us to focus on the music.
“Is this the symphony version of ‘Titanium’?” Corey asked in bewilderment. I agreed and this opened the door for us to savagely criticize the Narcisi sound system. “Oh my god, that Michael Bublé soundtrack during the tour made me want to shoot myself,” Corey laughed, and I started cracking up too at the thought of us both internally fixating on the same thing during the tour.
(Ironically, Corey and I both watch X Factor and OF ALL PEOPLE, Michael Bublé performed live last week.)
On the heels of “Titanium (Old Folks Home remix)”, that over-played Philip Phillips song queued up and I thought Corey was seriously going to skyrocket out of the Narcisi Winery. “I hate this song so bad!” he groaned through clenched teeth. “It seriously ruined the Olympics for me last summer!” Now I know what song to play if I ever need to smoke Corey out of my house!
Roberto returned with five bottles of wine right before everyone started to riot. I noticed he had a bucket of some sort on the table with him and I wondered if he was going to walk around and have us all take turns spitting out our wine like mouthwash, but thank god “Spit” wasn’t part of the 4 S’s of wine tasting that Roberto was about to teach us. Actually, I can’t remember what they are now. I forgot pretty much right after he taught us on the first glass, because after that we had to do it ourselves and I pretty much just went right for (S)chug.
It was something like this:
SEE THE BEAUTIFUL COLOR!!
SWIRL WITHOUT SPILLING!
SNIFF THAT SHIT!
SAVOR THE FUCK OUT OF IT!
I was pretty bad at swirling.
Having only eaten a yogurt for breakfast, and being a light-weight to begin with, I started to feel PRETTY GOOD (read: pretty stupid) right after the second tasting. And sadly, these weren’t even anywhere close to full glasses. I am THAT intolerant of alcohol these days. So naturally, Corey and I sat there trying not to choke on mouthfuls of Stella and Granato while stifling giddy laughter because EVERYTHING WAS FUNNY at that point. And then Roberto would come over to give us more wine and we would sweetly say, “Thank you!” in our fake sibling voices, only to start cracking up again as soon as he moved to the Bangs Party.
Corey said that one of the members of the Bangs Party tried to share a moment of laughter with me but I totally missed it. Apparently, she leaned over toward me and made some sort of flapping arm-motion to emphasize her laughter.
Corey took this of me when I was unaware and I’m glad because it is a good reflection of my undying devotion to every single syllable that Roberto uttered (even though I promptly forgot it all).
Roberto has a WIFE :(
I snagged this one from Corey’s Instagram–he got a great shot of Roberto’s expert pouring prowess. Ugh, Roberto’s wife is so lucky. I bet he pours so good for her.
Anyway, Corey and I enjoyed all five wines, and we were both pleasantly surprised at the Stella especially, because neither of us are particularly fond of dry reds. But for me, that could be because I mostly drink hobo wine, and not the good stuff.
(J/K. I physically can’t drink cheap wine because it makes me super sick. I went to a gay bar one time and made the mistake of drinking two glasses of their “house white” and had the nastiest hangover of my life. Oh, and a word of advice: don’t go to a bar in Brookline and order wine. Ever.)
And just like that, the last glass was imbibed and Roberto said goodbye. Those all too familiar pangs of “There Goes My Inexplicable Crush” sadness enveloped me as I watched him descend the staircase. OH ROBERTO, WILL WE EVER MEET AGAIN?
I got over it quickly though when I realized that it was time for our lunch reservation! AND THAT MEANT: TUSCAN SUNDAE!! We left the Bangs Party to roost at their table and went back downstairs to be seated in the main dining room, which was a big, open space with high ceilings and Italian tapestries hanging from the walls. We were seated next to a birthday party, but it wasn’t too rowdy considering all of the kids had their noses buried in their parents’ phones.
And that’s when Corey was able to check his sources before confirming to me that he did, in fact, know one of the younger members of the Bangs Party because he’s FRIENDS WITH HER ON INSTAGRAM. How incredibly awkward. I hoped that she didn’t find me through his Instagram, because literally the first picture I posted that day had a caption of “WE HATE EVERYONE ON THIS TOUR WITH US.”
As you can see, I’m really awesome at learning my lesson.
And then of course the Bangs Party was seated at a table behind us, but poor Corey was facing all of them. But thanks to Instagram, we learned that it was Sarah Conner’s birthday, haha. Happy birthday to you and your dumb bangs.
We waited for our food while sipping glasses of Niagara and ravaging a basket of bread and murdering it with delicious dipping oil like we hadn’t eaten in days. I went with a grilled salmon salad since I knew I was going to be eating A TUSCAN SUNDAE. Corey got some kind of Narcisi pasta stuff. The food was really great and our waitress was wonderful but she tried to give us our check without asking if we wanted to order A TUSCAN SUNDAE. Usually when this happens at restaurants, I take this as a sign from the Fat Gods to mean that I don’t need dessert and I should leave while I can still get up from the table without the assistance of Strongmen.
But no. Not today. I NEEDED that sundae. I really can’t explain why, but I just did. I snagged her before she had a chance to retreat and said, “Actually, we wanted to order the TUSCAN SUNDAE.” She apologized and came back with the dessert menu which I pretended to look at before saying again that we wanted THE TUSCAN SUNDAE. Corey had already agreed to share it with me so I didn’t feel too gluttonous. (Don’t worry, I ate grass and twigs for dinner that day.)
When our waitress returned with Corey’s to-go container, she also set down a plate with two spoons and a fucking steak knife, so we were really intrigued at that point. WTF was a Tuscan sundae, anyway?!
Meanwhile, Corey’s to-go container wouldn’t close properly due to a disfigurement so he had to ask for another one, but then that was also malformed so he had to operate on it with a butter knife. It was probably the most stressful moment of the day, second to DO WE HAVE TO SPIT?!
And then our waitress, whom I’m fairly certain called me babe at one point and she was definitely younger than me so that left me with confusing feelings, placed the most magnificent piece of edible architecture down before us and I was like, “OK now please leave so I can fuck this shit up.” LOOK AT IT! Homemade scoops of ice cream resting peacefully in a boat of sweet dough, like Moses sailing down the stream, crisscrossed with streaks of chocolate and caramel sauce and crowned with a splooge of airy whipped cream. OMFG I need to come back for seconds and fifths, TUSCAN SUNDAE. I definitely need to bring a sharing partner with me though because not even Corey and I together could polish off that beast.
Even Corey was like, “Good call on the TUSCAN SUNDAE, sister. You are the best at everything! Thank god you exist!”
After lunch, we made our way back to the front of the winery, hoping to see the Broad, but she wasn’t at her station. So we went to the gift shop and bought some souvenir wines. The man next to me walked away with an entire case and I fucking hated him.
We were prepared to leave after that, but then we saw that Broad was back behind the wine-tasting counter! I actually was pretty bloated at that pointed, maybe even burping bubbles, but there was no way we could leave the winery without SOME modicum of interaction with the beacon that led us there in the first place.
So we set down our bags and approached the counter tentatively, where Broad disinterestedly told us that we could have three complimentary tastings. Corey and I stood there, pouring over the list in a very “doo-do-doo” manner, until I finally asked Broad what her favorites were. She sighed and pointed to the list: “The Cab Sauv and Stella.”
We totally weren’t charming her at all. Every time she’d finish pouring us a glass, she’d shuffle back against the wall and stand there like a bored statue in age-inappropriate boots. I was almost scared to make her refill my glass two more times!
I can’t even remember what we tried now, except for a sangria that I was pissed I didn’t taste before buying the wine because I totally would have bought that too. Which I guess is the whole point of tasting wine BEFORE purchasing, but you know how I love to do things backward.
We finished our last tasting and thanked Broad profusely, swearing we would be back, which prompted her to reiterate the winery’s hours in a very business-like tone.
Overall, it was a really great experience and the wine was fantastic. But if I ever go back, I’m printing out a list of wine questions to ask Roberto that will require answers so lengthy, he will say, “Come see me after the tour and we will discuss this further” and then you know, what happens in the winery’s private room stays on this blog forever for the entire Internet to read at their leisure. (And it will hopefully be NSFW.)