Obsessed? Me???


əb-sěsh’ən, ŏb-)

  1. Compulsive preoccupation with a fixed idea or an unwanted feeling or emotion, often accompanied by symptoms of anxiety.
  2. A compulsive, often unreasonable idea or emotion.

ob·ses’sion·al adj., ob·ses’sion·al·ly adv.

obsessionMy kids tell me that I am obsessed with food and wine. I disagree with them, and explain that I am very passionate about both, so I do spend a lot of time learning about them, or actually cooking, eating and drinking. Besides, I don’t hear many complaints when they sit down to the table.

However, yesterday was one of those days that made me think that maybe the kids are right. I got out of bed, poured a cup of coffee and immediately did some promotional work for this site. Other than taking a shower, that was how the early morning hours were spent. Then Amy and I hopped a plane to Dallas to attend the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux tasting.

On the plane I read Noble Rot: A Bordeaux Wine Revolution, an excellent book that tells the history of the Bordeaux region, which is a lot more exciting than it sounds. Although, I did manage to not order any crappy wine while on the plane.

Once in Dallas we attended the tasting and tried so many wines that my taste buds went into open revolt and would not work anymore. All the while we tasted, of course, the conversation centered on wine or the cheese with an occasional detour into discussion of how funny people dress in Dallas.

After the tasting and a little wait at the airport we were back on the plane heading back home to Houston. The time passed as I returned to reading about wine. Despite really wanting to be home and in more comfortable clothes, I almost hated to land because I wanted to continue reading.

Once home, it was time to relax and reflect on how difficult it is to taste so many wines at one time like that, and how much it takes out of you. What better way to do that than with a glass of wine? After tasting (and spitting out) all of those rough, young Bordeaux wines we naturally had to have a Bordeaux that was much more ready to drink. It was quite tasty, albeit much cheaper than the delinquent youths we had earlier, and we did not spit even one drop of it.

So, maybe my kids are at least partially right, but I still contend that my obsession is fueled by my passion, and it beats the hell out of trying to make the world’s largest aluminum foil ball or playing sodoku.

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