Or, Longitudinal Research to Measure Taste and Olfactory Responses to Oenological Stimuli During the COVID-19 Pandemic

Or, Two-year Excuse to Drink Wine and Consume Junk Food

PART ONE: CHEETOS, MARGAUX, AND DRIVEWAY HAPPY HOUR

We have been good soldiers, Joan and I.  We have “masked up,” taken our shots, kept our distance from others when directed, and sheltered in place.  Well, not exactly that last part.  We retired in June 2020, bought a Jeep, and proceeded to put 62,000 miles on it in less than two years, while never coming into contact with anyone!  I mean, how was that even possible??

Of course, it wasn’t, but we did our best to stay safe while recognizing my own inability to stay home for more than 18 hours at a time.  Indeed, I learned many things about myself during the lockdown. I believe that March 17, 2020 was the first day of our quarantine.  On March 19, I discovered that we had a critical shortage of stackable plastic storage containers, making it IMPERATIVE that I travel IN PERSON to Home Depot to rectify the problem.  The next day, it was garbage bags; after that, fertilizer, and so on.  Of course, I didn’t realize we needed more toilet paper until I noticed, while making another critical visit to the grocery store, that every single customer walking out was pushing a grocery cart full of TP and paper towels. Of course, that necessitated repeated trips to all stores in search of that which seemed hugely important.  I even bought a single roll at a gas station for $3.00.  Just to be safe.  I still have it.

What does any of this have to do with wine??  Well, I’m getting there.  Throughout my adult life, wine had been a valued accompaniment to my days, social interactions, and sometimes even bathroom stops.  However, during the pandemic, wine was becoming the focal point of many of my days.  Suddenly, I had more time to think about wine, plan ridiculous foods to accompany it, and generally make it my new career.  Case in point: On one of our cross country drives during the pandemic, I was eating one of my favorite snacks, Cheetos. Cheetos have the unfortunate side effect of leaving color all over one’s fingers, which I must lick off in a ritualistic routine similar to a cat grooming itself. At some point, Joan said, “Cheetos go with Coors.” And there you go, it’s just like her. She oversimplifies an extremely complex situation, failing to take into account the infinite nuances that go into pairing junk food and wine. Beer? Really? Pairing beer with different foods is just like pairing BBQ and Dr. Pepper. Duh. Drink, eat, drink, eat. There is no blog-posting appeal there whatsoever!

But then I realized, there must be something to what she said. She was mentioning it to me because I had mentioned on repeated occasions that Cheetos don’t seem to pair with wine very well. So, in Joan’s own unique way, she was trying to help. The truth is, she did help, and spurred me to actually ask – what type of wine might actually work with Cheetos? This would be a different type of exploration for me. Instead of starting with a wine and trying to select the right junk food, I’m going to start with a junk food of almost universal appeal, Cheetos. There must be a wine SOMEWHERE that will go with this legendary snack, and I AM GOING TO FIND IT.

In selecting the right equipment for this important experiment, I have to begin by saying that the use of a great wine glass, Riedel for example, might be superfluous, since the Cheetos residue would render the glass opaque over time. The “legs” would be completely unobservable, and that is unacceptable. Because of characteristics of this unique snack, there must be some discussion of the utensils and glassware that should be used in this particular pairing. If a real wine glass is used, then perhaps tongs, or medical forceps, could be used to pick up the Cheetos, which would keep the hands clean. On the other hand, it would probably be much simpler just to drink the wine out of a plastic cup. Then, it doesn’t matter what one’s fingers look like. That ‘s IT!! Plastic cups for the wine, no problem (and no legs either).

The pandemic provided test parameters that were ideal for such an experiment.  From mid 2020, Joan, her sister Lyn, and I had gotten into a routine of “Driveway Happy Hours,” wherein we would meet in Lyn’s driveway, socially distance, and spend a couple of hours drinking wine and eating junk food in the safety of the outdoor air.  We didn’t use glass because of the sloping concrete driveway, so plastic cups were employed – perfect.

It probably goes without saying that the ability of a plastic cup to capture the bouquet of a fine wine is limited. Therefore, the wine must have a huge nose, or perhaps none at all.  As it turns out, the experiment began completely by accident during one of the driveway meetings.  Lyn was emptying out her wine cellar, and happened upon a bottle of 1994 Chateau Margaux.  No, I’m not kidding – see the photo. Warning: this may be a good time for those with cultured wine tastes to stop reading, because I still can’t believe that this happened.  I had half a bag of Cheetos, left open in our Camaro after a recent road trip, and I seized the opportunity.  Yes, a 26 year old Premier Grand Cru Margaux, in plastic cups, accompanied by Cheetos.  I looked up what it might have been worth, AFTER we drank it, and couldn’t find the exact vintage.  Based on what I did see, it was … a lot.

But enough about the $1,000 bottle of wine that got away, what was it like?  More importantly, were Cheetos up to the challenge?  First, I don’t like drinking any wine from a plastic cup – it just feels wrong.  Having said that, this was one of the best wines I ever consumed.  The best descriptor is “refined.” It had a very special bouquet (even in plastic), no one essence dominated the others, and it exhibited layers of subtle flavors that were astonishing, even in the driveway. That earthy terroirwas also there, which seems unique to fine French wines (at least for my palette).  

Oh yes, what about the Cheetos?  They were fine.  Turns out, you can’t destroy a great Margaux with anything cheesy, even Cheetos. Honestly, I waited a few seconds between eating a Cheeto and taking a sip of wine, just to give the wine and my taste buds a chance to work.  And work they did!  There we were, like Paul Giamatti at the end of Sideways, in the driveway with our plastic cups and a world class wine.  We drank, we munched, we looked at the evening desert sky and discussed the state of the world.  The wine made it a day we will never forget.

Just recently, I had the opportunity to replicate the experiment in an effort to identify a less expensive substitute for the Margaux.  I went to the other end of the red wine spectrum and bought a 4-pack of 6 ounce plastic bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon from Sutter Home.  Admit it, we have all had this wine.  And I bet that, while you were drinking it, at some point you said “this really isn’t bad.”  The wine was more expensive than the Cheetos, but just barely.  Anyway, I took a lesson from a past experience I had with Pinot Noir and Red Vines and decided to watch a movie while testing.  After much discussion, Joan and I selected the Bourne Ultimatum, third in the Bourne series.  Good choice!  The movie complimented the food and drink (violent confrontations abounded in both arenas) and the wine/Cheetos consumption went smoothly. Only once did I have a real revelation about the pairing one way or the other, that revelation being that all things being equal, I preferred the 1994 Margaux.  What about the Cheetos? They were fine.

           The Grape Debate Reimagined

Or, How Funions Shatter Wine Pairing and Color Preconceptions

OK, when I say “color preconceptions,” I’m not talking about diversity and inclusion here. I just want to be clear on that. I’m only referring to Simple Axioms that we wine drinkers tend to accept, so that the world makes sense and we don’t wake up in the middle of the night in a cold sweat. These axioms include:

–White wine is best chilled.
–Red wine is best slightly below room temperature.
–Red meat pairs with red wine.
–Lighter meats pair with white wine.
–Drier wines go with meals.
–Sweeter wines are best with dessert, or breakfast, or lunch, or after dinner. Or before.

We all know, deep inside, that the world might be a much more complex place than these simple precepts can explain, but overall they have guided our thinking. Until now.

My axiom-laden, ordered world started to come apart when I met my niece Jorie’s boyfriend, Justin. He seemed like such a nice young man — friendly, talented, and a really good cook. I didn’t dream that he would soon be responsible for turning my world upside down and making me question everything that I had ever believed. No, maybe I’m being a bit harsh here.  Actually, he only made one simple comment. He suggested, and I quote, “Why don’t you try a wine pairing with Funions?“

Silence. Then I finally said, “What’s a Funion?”

I believe it was Jorie who then uttered something about how people my age probably don’t know what Funions are, but eventually I was educated about the existence of these little crispy imitation onion rings that you buy in a bag like potato chips, that actually taste … oniony! Boy, it’s amazing what these young folks come up with nowadays! Well, I decided to dive into a full-blown experiment featuring two different Funions products and three wines from Mirassou winery. First, the Funions: I purchased the standard military-spec Funions (I just made up that descriptor), and also the potent “Flamin’ Hot” Funions.

I purchased three wines from Mirassou, a 2019 Pinot Grigio, a 2018 Pinot Noir, and a 2019 Cabernet Sauvignon. The Pinot Grigio and the Cabernet from Mirassou were new to me, but I have had the Pinot Noir several times. Each time, I have come away very impressed with how solid this varietal is at the price point, around $10. I know there are many who say that you can’t make a decent Pinot Noir at that price, but I believe Mirassou has done it, over and over again. The Cabernet and the Pinot Grigio were both nice surprises; the Cabernet is velvety with a good varietal nose, and the Pinot Grigio is light, crisp, and waaayy too easy to drink. After sampling the wines, Jorie, Justin, my sibling in-laws Barbara and Charlie, and I set about the task of determining whether Funions are a viable choice when faced with the age-old dilemma of choosing the right junk food to go along with your wine. After all, this is the “Wine and Junk Food Survival Guide,” and this is my job, which I take very seriously.

I believe it was Barbara who said that the flavor from the Flamin’ Hot Funion exploded in the mouth, but that the Pinot Grigio blended surprisingly well, softening the heat and blending with – of all things – the onion flavor. Hmm. That can’t be right. I tried the same combination and, you know, she was right! Justin and Jorie both came to the conclusion that the white wine was indeed pairing better with the red Funions, whereas the Pinot Noir (and to a lesser extent the Cabernet) seemed to work best with the milder, white Funions. Hmm. That can’t be right either. I looked at Charlie. He simply kept on drinking and eating without comment, then drifted off to make a milkshake. After many sips of red and white wine, and many crunches of red and white Funions, I gradually became aware of the staggering paradox. The pairings did not follow the traditionally accepted color assignments. But they had to … they needed to. This paradigm shift was right up there with finding out that the world is not a globe at all, but one of those exercise treadmill/wheels, like the ones that gerbils run on all day long. I drank more, and the more I tasted, the more it confirmed the new paradigm. The room started spinning as I contemplated the implications of our discovery. At least, I firmly believe that the implications caused the room to spin. It could not possibly have been the wine.

I don’t believe that Barbara and Charlie realized how important this discovery was to the future of mankind, because they wandered away to do other things, probably involving the Chicago Cubs.  Justin, Jorie, and I stayed around to replicate our findings through further testing, and then to discuss relevant, related topics, such as the comparative shelf lives of Pinot Grigio and Flamin’ Hot Funions. Hey, these seemed like important topics at the time, and the longer the evening went, and the more Mirassou wine was consumed, the more important these topics became. I will report back to you, Dear Readers, the results of those discussions, just as soon as I remember them. If I can’t, I’m sure it’s Justin’s fault.

Yes, I know Chardonnay is “Not a Red Wine,” but read on – I have news…

I hope everyone reading this is safe. The coronavirus outbreak is certainly nothing to joke about, but if you give me a chance to focus on an important wine issue, perhaps it will help pass the time. First, a positive development of this pandemic has been to bring into focus those things that we sometimes take for granted – such as freedom. And, (my point) cherishing friends. Because I can’t see them as often as I would like, I’m actually talking to them more than I normally do. That’s a very good thing, but it does point out a deficiency in my personality or upbringing. Why am I paying more attention to them now? I can answer that when I start another blog on my various personality disorders, but this does eventually bring me to my topic for today, and every day – wine!

While I was talking online to one of my colleagues, who we shall call “B”, I offered to bring over groceries if she needed anything. Being a bit more housebound than I, she took me up on my offer. Imagine my surprise when the only item on her grocery shopping list was, and I quote, “two cases of Chardonnay wines.” I may pick the brands, she said. So, I completed the task as any friend would, but with particular zeal since it was the first actual request I’ve had for over three weeks since being ordered – personally by The Governor – to Shelter In Place. I was really tired of cleaning closets, and I admit that this whole quarantine thing is a struggle for me. So of course, a mission to help a friend in need was just what the doctor ordered (not The Governor).
Now, I know that I don’t care for Chardonnay, and even though I haven’t had it for over 20 years, I KNOW I don’t like it. As I read about it decades ago, “the malolactic fermentation technique gives Chardonnay a buttery aftertaste” (quotes indicate an imaginary authoritative source). Some people relish this flavor, but not me.

This brings us to the point of the story where I discuss how it is never too late to learn. B knew about my interest with pairing wine and junk food (I prefer to define junk food as “food people like”). Later, B presented me with a challenge that I simply couldn’t resist – even if it meant drinking Chardonnay.

Several days after I made the “grocery” run, she texted me in a very excited manner, if that’s even possible with a text. She said that she had discovered an amazing pairing: Josh Cellars Chardonnay and “those lemon sandwich cookies that can only be bought at Sprouts Farmers Market.”

I really had a hard time imagining it. Yes I know, white wines and citrus notes. I get it, but these are cookies! It’s probably not even real lemon flavor (no offense, Sprouts executives)! Well, I put a painting mask on, which is the closest thing I have to a KN95 mask, and set out to buy the cookies and the wine. We were having my son Brian and his fiancée Tara over for dinner that evening and I figured that was the perfect time to do the test. As every good social scientist knows, it’s always best to have a broad-based sample of the population when doing groundbreaking scientific research.

First, we did our civic duty and brought in dinner from our favorite Thai restaurant in Las Vegas, Pin Kaow. Afterwards, we set about performing the experiment. Brian and Tara drank and crunched cookies before I did, because I was grabbing a notepad to record reactions and observations. I guess I could’ve used a phone – I TOLD you I’m too old to learn! Anyway, they both exclaimed that the wine was really, really good, and the combination of the wine and the cookies reminded them of “something.” As any devoted red wine drinker would do, I rolled my eyes and picked up my glass. I swirled, took in the nose, took a sip, and it stopped me dead in my tracks. Where was that aftertaste I never liked? Not there. Where was that white wine simplicity that is beneath the learned palates of We, the Red Wine Snobs of the World? Not there, just a big, broad combination of subtle flavors on the palette. I would identify the flavors like they do on the backs of wine bottles, but I can only really make up stuff on the trombone. I sipped again, and when I took a bite of the cookie, it was breathtaking. The lemon disappeared, the Chardonnay disappeared, and there was this amazing taste that reminded me of wedding cake! The melding of flavors was truly remarkable, and I’ve never witnessed any (junk food) pairing where both the wine and the food joined with one another to make something completely different, and totally wonderful.

Later in the evening, when Brian and Tara had left, there was enough of the Josh Chardonnay to pour one more good glass. No cookies this time. I drank, I enjoyed, and a weird tingling sensation began to envelop me as a realization dawned. I felt as though I was Professor Frankenstein in the lab proclaiming to the world that I had just created life. I stretched out my arms, looked up to the heavens (well, the ceiling of my kitchen) and exclaimed:

“I — CAN — DRINK — THIS!!!”

Thank you, Josh Cellars. Thank you, Dear Readers, participants of this experiment, my good friend B, and of course – Sprouts Farmers Market.  I can say something could only have happened because of everything that recently unfolded: I like Chardonnay.

Of course, I knew it all along.

We have a vacation home in Idaho. When we bought it in 2007, it fired my imagination and awakened some long-suppressed McGee survivalist genes. “We have a hideaway in Idaho, so we need guns, ammo, and canned food. Lots of canned food. And maybe a wine cellar.”

The guns are safely secured in a safe in the basement, the ammo is in, of all things, genuine ammo boxes near the safe, and we accumulated a pantryfull of dried foods, rice, pasta, coffee, and lots and lots of canned foods. “Don’t worry about having too much food,” I assured Joan, always supportive but now looking over the top of her glasses as though to say, ‘are you kidding me?’ I calmly explained, “We’ll eat all of this stuff up long before it goes bad.”

Our home has the codename “Mistmar;” not a random name, but I cannot divulge the history behind that moniker for security reasons. The command center of the Mistmar compound is in the basement, and looks suspiciously like a wine cellar, complete with two easy chairs and about 140 bottles of survival fluid, to be opened in case of attack or perhaps other emergencies such as random curiosity. Little did I know how valuable this stash of wine would become to my own personal well-being. Because, when buying several cases of chili, Chef Boy-ar-dee Mini Ravioli, and Campbells soups, the unspoken assumption is that sometime, someday, one actually has to eat all that food. Before I continue, a quick disclaimer; I have NOTHING against canned food, and although some of my friends and relatives turn up their noses at Dinty Moore Beef Stew, Joan and I have been known to CHOOSE to stay home and eat that, as opposed to going out to real restaurant nightspots like Jack-In-The-Box. Having made that admission, on one recent trip to Mistmar, I noticed that about 90 cans of food were all going to expire within the next month or two. Time to dive in and eat the emergency vittles, so we can replace them with ALL NEW gourmet cans of vittles.

Well, the effort to eat everything up stalled today. I was, for whatever reason, unable to open the twelfth can of Chef Boy-ar-dee Mini Ravioli. Several times, my hands moved toward the can opener, then began to shake uncontrollably, after which I quietly sat down in a wooden dining chair and stared blankly out the window. Almost as if a divine voice entered my consciousness, I remembered – THE COMMAND CENTER. I ran downstairs, thinking all the while, “Mini Ravioli, almost Italian, need robust wine, hmmm, ZINFANDEL”. The wine repository did not let me down, offering up a bottle of Four Vines “Biker” Zinfandel, one of my very favorite Zins in the 20-to-30 dollar range. Here, I was asking for a lot; I needed a truly great wine to transform a can of survival food into a palatable repast. Some might question why I would waste a premium wine on a meal such as this, but I say, the meal is the sum total of your experiences at the table. Whatever that means. After opening the wine to let it breathe for a bit, my hands deftly swept up the can opener as though they were nunchucks in Bruce Lee’s hands. One and a half minutes in the microwave, which coincided EXACTLY with my projected wine-breathing period, and voila! – I couldn’t wait to dig in.

Let me tell you something – Chef Boy-ar-dee Mini Ravioli ROCKS when you can top it off with the full frontal flavor assault of the Four Vines Zinfandel. The Biker wine has an amazing fruity bouquet, that either compliments the marinara of the ravioli, or completely overwhelms it; but either way, it’s great! You know what’s even better? I finished the can of vittles, and still have over half the bottle of wine left! Yes, it’s a fine day at Mistmar – and I can sleep well tonight, knowing that the McGee family compound is fully prepared for any culinary emergency. It’s just a matter of making good choices about pooling your resources.

Lord knows I’m not a health food addict. My idea of health food is a McDonald’s Quarter Pounder without cheese. In fact, I’m getting hungry right now. Nope, stay focused, McGee. Keep writing.

Even though I am not a food authority, I DO know that fruit is fruit, candy is candy, and there are at least several levels of separation between the two on the Healthy Food Index. I say all of this as a preamble to a revelation that even I could not have predicted. It happened just the other day, when my wife Joan and I joined her sister Lyn and husband Richard for a movie at one of those new Luxury Theaters. You may have heard of them: reserved seating, every person gets his/her own leather recliner, and best of all, they sell beer and wine! You can buy a glass of wine or a whole bottle. Okay, I’ll take the bottle.

Lyn and I were the only two drinking wine at 12:45 in the afternoon, but why not? How often can you sit in a state of the art theatre and drink wine? Totally cool. Anyway, there we were, savoring a really excellent Santa Barbara Pinot Noir from Sea Glass Winery (2012, I think, but it was pretty dark in the theatre). This is the type of Pinot Noir that makes you want to try other Pinots; fruity, just complex enough to make you think, and really, really drinkable. Bravo, Sea Glass! I was just settling in to the previews when Joan tapped my shoulder and said, “Here you go sweetie – your favorite.” She had brought me a package of Red Vines! I really do love them, and I can offer absolutely no reason why. They have nothing to do with nutrition or any known organic food (although they proudly proclaim “No Preservatives – Always Fat-Free” on the wrapper). They have nothing to do with the fruits I actually like; even though I like strawberries, they are about as close to strawberries as Circus Peanuts are to bananas. But, I couldn’t be rude to the mother of my children, so I thanked her and took them. Hmmm…. Pinot Noir and Red Vines; not a chance. Meanwhile, the movie started. It was the latest Captain America flick, and it was really well done in every way. Captivating. I toasted Lyn with my Pinot, savored it, let my whole mouth enjoy the grape. Swallow. Red Vine. Good movie. More Red Vine. Swig of Pinot. Great movie. Pinot, Red Vine, fun action movie, gulp of Pinot, WAIT!! This is impossible! Half of the Red Vines are gone, I’m on my second glass of Sea Glass, and there is no puckering of the lips, no tears of astringent agony, nothing! This time, I focus on the wine, drink, then the Red Vine. Nothing. Total harmony. Not Possible. Again, and this time concentrate! Wine, Red Vine, and…, and… . OMG, I’m in low budget junk food heaven!

In all, it was a perfect afternoon, and the accidental marriage of this fine Pinot and good ol’ Red Vines just goes to show that no matter how much you think you know about food, wine, or Marvel Comic heroes, we can all be occasionally surprised. Just like our friend Captain America, but that’s another story. Go see the movie. If you already like Red Vines, try the combo. Don’t overanalyze – just go with it.

IMPORTANT POSTCRIPT!

A few days later, one of my other sisters-in-law, Barbara, asked me “Do you think that the Pinot Noir will work with Twizzlers?” I decided to do a taste-off, right then and there. I went to three neighborhood wine stores, and none had the Sea Glass Pinot Noir that I had tried at the theatre. So, I picked another Pinot from the Santa Barbara region, also medium priced ($18), and bought both Red Vines and Strawberry Twizzlers. The Red Pony Ranch 2012 Pinot Noir was very good with a satisfying nose, and a smooth, fruity character. Did it work? Well, yes, with some qualifications. Red Vines, believe it or not, have a fairly subtle flavor, and I believe that was one of the reasons it could be consumed with wine. Twizzlers have a more aggressive flavor and smell. You can tell as soon as you open the package; the nostrils are assaulted. It does not work quite as well with the Pinot as the Red Vines did because it simply overwhelms the wine. However, you can certainly eat the combination, and if that seems difficult to “swallow,” think about that Captain America movie. If HE had been offered the Pinot Noir/Red Licorice feast after being unconscious for 70 years, he would definitely not complain. In his case, the ensemble would be regarded as food of the gods. It’s all a matter of perspective.

You have been there.  We all buy them, those wonderful Girl Scout cookies from those adorable Girl Scouts. So they (the cookies, not the Girl Scouts) are sitting in the pantry, but when it actually comes time to eat them and you also want a glass of wine,  the trouble begins. Last night while watching the movie Gravity, I had some difficult decisions to make that made Sandra Bullock’s predicament seem almost comical by comparison.  Sure, she is about to simultaneously suffocate and explode in orbital blackness and microgravity, but as I sit with my glass of  2011 Estancia Central Coast Merlot, should I really try the Girl Scout Peanut Butter Sandwich cookies sitting on the end table next to me, or should I lunge for the Thin Mints that my wife Joan is worrying over like a lioness with her freshly killed gazelle.  That, my friends, is a tough choice.

Short answer, eat them all.  The sweetness of the peanut butter cookies works against the wine, but if you focus your palate on the nuttiness of the confection, suddenly it works!  In fact, it works much better than it should.  Maybe the grapes serve as the fruit in a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, only with more oak, tannins, etc.  Whatever.

Now for the mints.  I love the Thin Mint cookies, and at first I thought they beat the Peanut Butter Sandwich cookies as a pairing, but in further analysis, the mint flavor competed with the soft Estancia Merlot (which is really good, by the way) too much.  I wanted the Thin Mints to win because I like them so much, but to be fair, I have to give this one to the nuttiness of the sandwich cookies.  No matter though – Joan and I ate both boxes!  Problem solved.