I think if you've been reading here for any amount of time (say, two entries?) you know that Adam and I kind of fall into the casual "crazy persons" category. We build pillow forts, we play with Transformers, we lavish scads of attention and money on tiny cars. We aren't what you'd call run-of-the-mill. I think the neighbors wish we were more of the two-kids-and-minivan mindset, but that is another entry.

Just add the following to the mounting evidence we might need to be committed.

On Saturday, we finally got around to going to tasting at Quarters West. Oh, man. I love tastings at Quarters. Laura Mudd, wine maven, opens about five bottles, from the cheap and easy to more chi-chi grape. We used to attend religiously, but by the middle of the summer, we had amassed about forty bottles of wine in our pantry and we had Emergency Vacation coming up and there was some grumbling of saving money and we kind of fell out of the habit of going.

But by Saturday, our collection had dwindled from forty bottles to a small gathering in the closet, the current Wine Spectator was singing the praises of California Pinot Noir and we were primed for a little wine sipping and browsing.

While we were wandering, we asked Laura if we could get on the list for the new Foxen Sea Smoke.

[Sidebar on Foxen: they are our winery. Seriously. Get out there, find a bottle and drink up. Last year, we managed to wheedle two bottles of the limited release Sea Smoke Pinot Noir and we've been holding on them. And then the friggin' Wine Spectator comes out and gives the 2004 release a glowing review.]

So, to recap: at tasting, love the Foxen, asked the Laura if we could get on the list for the new release.

She made this horrified face and told us that she'd received six bottles two weeks prior and sold out immediately.

And, okay, it's nice that Foxen has a following in Albuquerque, the news we couldn't lay our hands on the elusive Sea Smoke was shattering. Seriously, Adam was wandering the wine cave, whimpering quietly.

A call of the local wine shops didn't turn up a single bottle. Laura suggested wine shops in Santa Fe who might have been on the distributor's list, and one "long shot" liquor store in Pojoque.

I made the calls. Santa Fe was a bust all the way around. One green lable, one Bien Nacido Block Eight. No Sea Smoke.

But the wine guy in Pojoque not only had a bottle, he had three (though he was only doling them out one at a time). I begged him to save a bottle for us. I promised we'd be there the next day.

I hung up and Adam was bouncing on the balls of his feet. "Well?"

And that was the moment when we became the crazy couple who would go on a road trip to get a single bottle of wine.

(Part Two -- Where We Went is coming)

Labels: foxen, road trip, wine adventure