Oh, polar vortex. Since you haven’t released your grip on Chicago’s throat and March is only one day away, there’s really just one thing for me to do: settle in tomorrow night for the Blackhawks-Penguins game with a nice glass of Moscato.
By the way, Moscato, where have you been all my life? I’m not sure how to say your name and based on the eye rolls sometimes thrown my way at parties and book club, I get the feeling you’re kind of like the Kardashians of the wine world: cheap, overly sweet and not to be taken seriously.
Wine snobbery is not my thing, though. I don’t recall taking a sip of the stuff until my thirties, and making a pilgrimage to Napa anytime soon to sample the reds is not in the budget. Most people call you a dessert wine; I just call you dessert. One glass, only 127 calories.
I happened upon you quite by chance: Christmas Eve at my sister’s, 2011. Someone had brought you and tucked you inside the door of the fridge. How dare they? You scored immediate points when I realized I wouldn’t need a corkscrew. One fruity, crisp sip was all it took. There was no going back.
Thank goodness Jewel and Binny’s have got me covered in the Moscato department. A recent trip revealed so many choices: Barefoot, Yellow Tail, even sparkling! Nicki Minaj has hopped on the bandwagon and created her own version of you. However, if her wine is anything like her music, I think I’ll stay away.
For reasons I don’t quite understand, you, Moscato, have flown under the radar until relatively recently. Rappers like Drake, Lil’ Kim and Kendrick Lamar have all sung about you, and with good reason. According to the official, completely scientific research I’ve done on the internet, you have a loyal following amongst the twenty-something set, which further reinforces my belief that I’m a twenty-five year old trapped in a forty-five year old woman’s body.
I can even pair the right Moscato with the chicken tenders or Home Run Inn pizza I’ll be indulging in with the kids tonight! The possibilities are endless, really.
Every time I take a sip of you, I’m reminded of the ongoing debate a friend and I have about which is worse for your body: alcohol or stress. Of course I say stress but maybe that’s another blog entry for another day.
Yes, it might be 5 degrees outside right now, but one sip reminds me that warmer days and happier temperatures are not too far away. Moscato, I’m glad we met. I’m gonna need you when that February heating bill comes.
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