So here I am, in the midst of a career change in the East Bay-why would I add the chronicle of my fascinating, individual existence to the sea of schlock that's currently floating like a giant whale in the inter-ether?
Well, for the time being, there is a very defined project- an Aufgabe, as they say. I need to expand my palate- get my tongue-brain synapses syn-napping, stuff my head full of fascinating wine knowledge!
And someone (cough) may or may not have been too cheap to get a moleskin.
Honestly? The hour has long been nigh to get jiggy (serious) about wine knowledge, and for me the only way to make sure that happened in my corner of California was to write it the fuck down. I think muckracking about one wine a day wasn't too much to ask, given I have at least 30 pass through my hands any given day; I could give my mouth (and our brains) one in exchange.
My modern day Virgil on this trip will be the inimitable Hugh Johnson, my tome his World Atlas of Wine, as I navigate the 7 levels of hell which most definitely is internet wine blogs, importer profiles, and hours of Italian winemakers philosophizing on youtube. (Not satiated? Really?- look here)
This is how Cupboardist was willed into being- if I'm lucky it will be the poor man's graft of Scott Schuman and the Garagiste- a wine blog for those of us whose cave is the old-fashioned anglo-saxon wooden box in the kitchen- where they store their relief from the world's woes.
Of course along the way more and more sexy personal details will creep in- that's what'll lead to the multi-million-dollar film deal, but at the heart this remains a blog about our relationship to wine.
One semi-professional's chronicle of the bay area wine scene, wine-by-wine history and culture- and some of the myriad follies of single people drinking.
-or- as the inimitable N says,
"drinkin' thinkin', & crystallizin'
...in the cold blue light of the morning after."
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