Our local wine shop, just over the hill in the Southern Village development, is called Rocks & Acid. Erin and I were there a few months ago for a tasting of “wines from the Levant” (Cypress, Lebanon, and Israel). We were there again last night, invited by friends to celebrate a birthday with tastings of New Zealand wines—a few Sauvignon Blanc (the Sandy Cove 2023, with a vibrant scent of kiwi, was quite drinkable), a Gruner Veltliner, and the excellent te Pā Pinot Noir made by a Maori winemaker.
Erin and I once toured New Zealand by campervan, stopping into wineries in Hawkes Bay and Marlborough. I feel damn lucky to have seen those islands alongside Erin.
Much of the discussion around the tasting table last night was about the destruction and rebuilding in Western North Carolina, along with talk of music; our hosts were off to see a favorite band at the Shakori Hills Grassroots Festival of Music and Dance in nearby Pittsboro. Considering my love of live music, it’s a shame I’ve never made the effort to get to this festival.
With the tasting done, I went to the shelves to look for a Slovenian wine similar to the one I’d had at dinner earlier in the week. What caught my eye, though, was a bottle of white by Domaine du Bagnol, a winery Erin and I had walked to during our fabulous stay in the French town of Cassis. Ever since that 2016 trip to Provence, I have searched the wine shelves here in North Carolina for bottles of the wines we enjoyed in Cassis. I walked out of Rocks and Acid with two bottles
Laura, the shop’s general manager, also showed me a Slovenian bottle, so I took that, too.
© Anton Zuiker