Wine Mixing Traditions

Now that is cup for wine!

This was a workshop that my most awesome friend, Candice, and I put together. She and her husband own a winery/meadery in Colorado named Dithyramb Winery. Therefore the subject was one of interest. We found some interesting info on top of some tasty recipes. The ancient Romans and Greeks thought it was barbaric to drink wine undiluted. Candice found this piece written by Eubulus in his circa 375BC play Semele or Dionysus concerning the consumption of wine:

“Three bowls do I mix for the temperate: one to health, which they empty first, the second to love and pleasure, the third to sleep. When this bowl is drunk up, wise guests go home. The fourth bowl is ours no longer, but belongs to violence; the fifth to uproar, the sixth to drunken revel, the seventh to black eyes, the eight is the policeman’s, the ninth belong to biliousness, and the tenth to madness and hurling the furniture.”

This exert is what made the wheels in my mind spin with the thought of doing a workshop such as this:

WEDDING WINE

from Elizabeth Cunningham’s The Passion of Mary Magdalen

I don’t know exactly what was in the wine.
It tasted fiery and sweet.
I suspect it was red mead: Maeve Rhuad
Mead mixed with red wine.
An intimate joke, a pun made by the Bridegroom
that only the Bride would understand.
Its effect transcended any ingredient.
It was like drinking life itself:
new-turned earth, sun, wind scented with sea,
blossoms opening at first light, the ripe perfection of fruit—
the elements gathered on our tongues, lingering on our breath.
It was like drinking love itself,
the passion of the Bride and Bridegroom distilled,
shared among the guests,
flowing in all our veins, rivers from a single rise.
If we were drunk, we were divinely drunk.
We were in love. In Love. All of us.
None of us could bear to part that night.
The stars were so beautiful. We were so beautiful.
In the end, we all slept together,
no one alone, each one beloved. 

As we shared what we had learned, we passed clay cups (the Greeks used a kylix during symposiums which were “drinking parties” for general socializing) filled with the different concoctions to share with each other. We had fun exploring this alternate world of wine, so for all the peeps who attended the workshop this past week and all you on the inter-webs, here are the recipes:

The Ancient Greek/Roman Way – 3 parts water to 1 part red wine (I find a half n half mix is nice, not too diluted but helps chase off the potential headache in the morning)

Muslum – Mix honey in with red wine, to your taste.

Maeve Rhuad – 1 part red wine to 1 part mead

Mulled Wine – well, I don’t really have a recipe, but I bought the spice mix from a quaint place called Savory. Check them out at www.savoryspiceshop.com. After passing this cup around we added some water and mead to the mix and it took alot of bite off.

Turk’s Blood – 3oz champagne, 2oz red wine

French Monkey – 2/3 glass red, 1/2 glass Orangina (I used San Pellegrino Orange)

Seaside Summerbliss – 2 parts red wine, 3 parts sweet apple cider

Red Wine Cooler – 4oz red wine, 2oz lemon/lime soda, 2oz ginger ale (it was mentioned that just ginger ale was better)

If anyone has any other wine mixing recipes/traditions, old world or modern, please feel free to post them!

Cheers!

Wine, Camping, and Radio Flyer Wagons: Part I

This past week, I was at a private festival that celebrates wine and the Greek god Dionysus. It’s a yearly event for me and it has this odd way of resetting my sanity and perception of the world. Many of us come from different parts of the country to this event, sometimes being the only time we see each other during the course of the year. We laugh, we cry, we do rituals, we teach workshops, we dance around a bonfire to the sound of drums, and we fall asleep to the sound of other people having sex or having a good laugh. It’s a magical time of introspection, of extraversion, of being able to be who you really are in the safety of the people who accept you for the real you. It’s the best time of just letting go. Letting go of everything. Especially since there is no cell phone service.

This year was a me year. No significant other tailing me. Not even a “benefits” friend. Just lil’ ole me. It was perfect.

I have broken something every year I’ve been going. The previous years I broke hearts except for last year. Last year I broke a tent (it was tied to my car to keep it from flying away….whoops…). This year I broke NOTHING! Oh wait, I did break something. My perception of myself and where I’m going. But that’s coming. Just wait.

Tuesday and Wednesday I couldn’t stay during the day yet still journeyed to the festival in the evening for revelries and slumber. There’s nothing like sleeping outdoors especially when one has a memory foam topper for their queen size air mattress and a king size down comforter to keep them warm.

Tuesday Night: After a torrential downpour and almost getting stuck on a mud road, I arrive at the festival for the first night. I am greeted by a variety of people, yet looking for where my cohort (Amber) had placed our encampment. Before I can find her, I am whisked off to the opening for the main dome.  The couple who put this event together are good friends of mine. As the rules of this plush, foam padded, multi-pillowed, fake fur lined dome are explained to the participants who are there, I am playing a game of foot wrestling with the wife. After the rules are explained, I hear a shout for Greco-Roman wrestling and suddenly I am tumbling around on the squishy floor, the wife and I laughing hysterically. It was a good way to start the night.

Note: Last year, my friend Jason and I got into a really good match. He does a lot of martial arts training. It was a proud moment for me to give him a run for his money. I am like an Altoid: curiously strong.

After hanging in the dome for awhile, I head a few paces away to the other dome which was being called the nipple (due to its shape) by the end of the festival. The nipple had blow-up recliners and couches. AWESOME! After listening to (and participating in) some conversations about giving head and anal sex, I strike a question to Spanky. I’ve known Spanky for years and know the person he is. I’ve met his wife once (I think) so I asked how things have been between them. He waves the question off a bit saying he could use my advice on love. A comment that I don’t exactly remember was chimed in, something to the tune that I was jaded on love. The most surprising thing came out of Spanky’s mouth…she still believes in love or else she wouldn’t be here.

Do I still believe in love? Of course I do. As much as it breaks my heart, I am a romantic. I still believe after so many failed relationships and a divorce that there is someone out there for me. There’s a lot of someones’ that fill/will fill the gap until I finally bump into him, but he’s out there. Somewhere. He’s waiting for me too. Ok, I hope he’s out there waiting for me.

Realization #1: I had become so grumpy about the lack of good men, actual dateable MEN (not boys or guys) that are around my age, I had come off as jaded about love. How sad! Now, how to fix that?!

Don’t get me wrong, there’s some good guys out there that will make amazing partners from some woman. If you haven’t noticed, I’m a bit different. It’s hard finding a guy that willing to put up with me, my crazy friends, AND who isn’t a wall flower. I’m a force of nature. I need someone just as strong and open-minded. Geez, that felt like a speed dating intro.

Next: Wednesday and the arrival of Greylin

This is my happy place. Ok...one of my happy places.

Utica Club

Tonight is another Denver Cruiser Ride night. I am dressed in my finest white trash trailer park clothes with rollers, shower cap, and racially different babies in tow. If you didn’t guess, that’s the theme. Now that I’m out of work, I’m sitting at The Interstate Bar waiting for Phillip (aka the best partner in crime for me ever that is totally platonic) drinking a Utica Club and munching on deviled eggs and a pulled pork slider.

If you’ve never had a Utica Club, well…you’re not missing much. It’s a NY state thing that stays mostly upstate, aka Central New York (CNY). So to find it in Denver, almost 2000 miles away from the city (Utica) that had the 4th worst municipal water in the United States at one time, feels like a hug from a stranger in an elevator.

I’m drinking it mostly for the novelty tonight. It speaks to me of bonfires, trucks, and lots of laughter. It is brewed by The West End Brewing Company in Utica, NY. Their mascots are Schultz and Dooley, beer steins of a German and an Irishman thus showing the influence of these immigrants to the area. On the can it says, “First beer sold in the United States after prohibition”. From all my memory, I count this as true since the brewery survived that horrible period by making soda instead. Don’t trust me on that. I did the tour once when I was 5 years old and then at 25. This beer has been in my memory since day one. Even though its not exceptional by any means, it’s one I will drink with very fond memories.

Just a Shorty

It’s been a couple of weeks since I’ve written. Life’s been a bit busy with a hurt shoulder, changing jobs temporarily, and phasing out of my current career slowly so my shoulder can heal thus letting me eventually get back to it. In the mean time, I have been drinking a nice assortment of 22s.

Argonaut Liquors has a very nice selection of bigger bottled beer aka the 22. The warmer weather of summer that has finally hit Denver has turned my stout drinking ways to lighter beers such as strong ales, wits, and (oddly) pilsners. These are the few lovelies that I shared with my friend, Phillip. The Chimay Triple and Unibroue Ephemere were snuck into the movie theatre and enjoyed while watching X-Men: First Class. The La Trappe Dubbel and Avery’s Reverend were drank as we both worked on projects late into the evening while watching Eddie Izzard.

I’ll just say, they were all tasty. The Ephemere is amazingly apple tasting and light but The Reverend brought me to my knees, it was my favorite.

Unfortunately, life is tearing me away on an errand, but have no fear…I shall return.

I *heart* 22s!

Until then, live fiercely!

Pain and Pleasure

Pain is a way our bodies tell us there is a stimulus affecting us.

Pleasure is another way our bodies tell us there is a stimulus affecting us.

Sometimes the lines between these get blurred and we get to choose an outcome. Pain or pleasure? Why not both? Can pain cause pleasure and vice versa?

Yes.

When one stimulus overrides another, we tend to feel the stronger. Yet, what if you were to train your mind to be able to switch that stronger stimulus into something else? How cool would that be? It would be like having a super power! Which, I’m already a super heroine so here’s my spiel:

When a little child falls down, they’re on the brink of tears. They feel pain. Child looks at you for confirmation of pain and permission to cry therefore getting attention. Some of us do the “shake it off…you’re ok” which can work pretty well. Even using it on an adult works really well. This weekend, I was the subject of such an event.

Denver Cruisers is an event where people go cruising around the town en masse on their bicycles stopping at designated bars and the ever fun Circle of Death. Oh yes! It’s high speed bicycling fun in a large circle and people try to cross it to get to the action in the middle. It’s like a tornado of bikes. Rides happen on Wednesdays and Sundays. Wednesdays are the themed nights where you can dress up and this week’s is cops and robbers. Sundays are more mellow and more focused on longer rides. This past Sunday was my first time attending the Sunday ride. Little did I know what awaited me.

Which just so happened to be a speed skater who knocked me off my bike.

As I started to fall, I knew it was going to hurt. Falling always hurts, no matter what speed you’re going. My left shoulder and knee took the brunt of it and my hands got scrapped up but not too bad (I was going to buy biking gloves that day but decided to not. Doh!). The 50 other Cruisers stopped and asked if I was ok. Shocked and bleeding, I moved my ankles and arms, felt my body a bit and decided there was nothing broken. Score! The skater was a man in his 50′s. He pushed his way through the crowd and said, ” Are you ok? You should look behind you when you bike…” and then walked away. Wow…what a butt wipe.

My only thoughts were:

• “Ouch, my body hurts…”
• “What a douche! He’s lucky I wasn’t one of the millions of little kids playing in this park.”
• “Shake it off, T.”

Which I did shake it off, get on my bike, and ride with everyone else to our last destination. Everyone at the ride was super nice and supportive, getting the confirmation that I’m a true Denver Cruiser now because I spilled some of my blood on the ride. I could still feel aches settling in and after an hour of hanging out I decided to head home for a hot shower and the impending pain of cleaning wounds.

I won’t bore you with details, but I did end up doing something quite naughty before hitting the shower. Let me just say, when you can’t be with the one you lust, you can still do it over video chat on Skype! It was just what the doctor should have ordered. As things got more heated, the more I didn’t notice the pain. Even afterwards, as I jumped in the shower, warm water burning my abrasions with a rainbow of pain, I chose to feel the ecstasy of an orgasm come and gone. Even though I wanted to yell in pain, I wanted to moan in pleasure more, so I did neither (at midnight, I don’t think my neighbor would have appreciated it). I chose pleasure over pain and the pain just heightened the pleasure.

I let go.

I'm such a bad ass in a plaid bra!

The Rules of Good Living

The Sassy Beer Gypsy IS someone's conscience.

Some people may think I’m an alcoholic. Some people may think I’m promiscuous. And, well, some may think I’m a lesbian. Ok, so it was my mom who thought I was a lesbian because I was kinda pissy about her comment that I need to date a nice Catholic boy. I said in return, ” What if I don’t want to date a nice Catholic boy? What if I want to date women?” My mom went beyond gnashing her teeth and wailing. Every week during lent, she left me a message saying I needed to repent and give “something” up for lent. Ha. Ha! HAHAHAHA!

Contrary to my critics, I’d like to say I am none of the above.

I love beer. If beer had no alcohol, I’d still drink it.

I love sensuality. That doesn’t mean just sex. I love indulging my senses. My job requires alot of my senses, so they stay sharp. Sometimes I overwhelm them and at times I deprive them in order to make them sharper.

Having some basic guidelines for good living are important. I may be lighthearted and a hedonist, but I do NOT advocate true bad behavior (alcoholism, addiction, unprotected sex, idiocy…you  get the drift). These are some guidelines I live by:

1. KNOW your limits! I don’t get trashed every night or even have a beer every night. It’s not healthy to drink like that and I have only one liver. Also, alcohol poisoning is not fun and expensive if you end up in the ER.

2. Take RESPONSIBILITY. Like I once said, you can’t take back the stupid shite you did last night. Therefore, don’t get so schnockered you can’t remember or you make bad decisions. Blaming other people or things for your dumb ass is lame. Buck up and take responsibility for your actions!

3. NEVER drive if you’ve been drinking. That is just plain stupid. Besides your death, do you really want to be responsible for the death of innocent people? Don’t be a douche bag…get a taxi. AND if you’re biking, have a buddy who is sober because getting a DUI on a bike sucks ass.

4. SAFE SEX!!! Babies and STDs are expensive, not just financially expensive but on a Twin Towers sized spectrum of expensive. There are some bad choices that stay with you for life and there’s some that shorten your life. Not being safe can do both. Be respectful of yourself and others, use a condom!

5. Be an ELITIST. I am an advocate of being VERY picky when it comes to lovers. Sensuality and sex are sacred to me, so I’m not going to hook up with just anyone.

6. NEVER shag someone when you first meet them or on the first date. That’s just bad form. I usually wait until after the third date, IF there is a third date and it’s still not a guarantee. I’m an elitist.

7. The most important rule: Use (un)common sense. Even after a few beers, you can still use it, yet it seems like so few do. Common sense is pretty sexy.

These are just some of the more important points. I like having fun but not at the price of my health or the people I’m with. That’s just rude.

Have fun out there and remember to be responsible!

Avant Peche by Odell Brewery

It’s been a crazy busy 2 weeks for me. Besides working (yes, I do have a steady job that affords me odd times of the day where I’m doing nothing) I have been on quite the roll of socialite behaviour. Plays, baseball games, concerts, opera, tutu gatherings, cruiser nights, and general mischief with friends has kept me from my laptop and you, the reader.

As I sit and write to you, I’m drinking Avant Peche by Odell Brewery.  I’ve had some fruity beers, but this one is mighty interesting. Peaches were added, it was aged in oak barrels, then aged in oak barrels WITH peaches. Which gives it a very peachy head and true peach flavor. Not a canned-peaches-way-too-sweet flavor. It’s 9.5%, so it’s on the hefty side yet doesn’t give you the feeling, when you taste, it that it’s high on ABV. The roasted chocolate malt flavor of porters is a side note to the peach, though others may say the peach is. It’s kinda light, so if you like the darker beers but feel like you kinda want a Hefe, this is a good middle man. It’s $16 of dark summer love in 750ml. Personally, I think it’s mad tasty, so give it shot, grab your brown bag, and drink it in the park!

Na Zdrowie!

If I were Polish, I'd say smaczny!

Prague and Paris: The Saga Continues

Spooky, right?

On August 23rd, Amber and I will be boarding a plane for Prague. We will stay there for a week, then jet off to Paris for a week before we make the sad trip home. Since you have no reference to where this all started, let me fill in the blanks.

October 2010: After realizing that I had been baby crazy for years with no success, I broke down crying on my couch before I was supposed to be out on the town. A question came to my mind: “If I don’t have kids, what am I going to do with my life?” The answer was simple: TRAVEL. That was the night I decided I wanted to see Prague and it was going to happen in a year. I was pretty sure I would go alone, since most of my friends are committed and/or have kids.

Amber and I had been thinking of going to Mexico for our birthdays (she is Feb 20, I’m Feb 24) so I asked her if she would be interested in going to Prague in September instead of Mexico. Her response was an overwhelming YES!!!

So…we’ve been planning. Planning over mahjong games, tea, devil fries, beer and pizza, and cute guys (there’s a cute waiter at the Atomic Cowboy where we were getting beer and pizza and he was giving us ideas on where to go). At first we were going to Prague and Vienna but people kept telling us we would be bored with Vienna in a few days. Sad.

As we were planning at the Atomic Cowboy one night, we started looking at flights from Prague to other European countries. We found a round trip flight to Paris for $90. Score! We have our winner!

Recently, I helped organize a twilight tutu traipse through one of parks here in Denver. Of course we had to extend our mischief to the surrounding neighborhood. Amber and I went our own way to create our own special brand of fun, traipsing through the Tattered Cover and along Colfax (the longest main street in America), to our last destination for the evening: The Thin Man. It was here that a very nice man at the bar informed us of a place I had heard about.

A church made of skeletons on the outskirts of Prague. Yep. Made of skeletons. It is located in Kutna Hora. Apparently the church became such a popular place to be buried due to sand from the holy land being sprinkled around it back in 13th century that by the 17th century there was just no more room. So they exhumed the older remains and started decoration the inside of the church.

Crazy right? We are so totally going to see this!!

If you have interesting sights (or relaxing sites) that you’ve been to in either of these regions, let me know.

The Pain of Being a Gypsy

As much as I may wander, no matter where you fit in  my life…

I will miss you.

There is something beautiful about you that has brought us together. I see the person you can be and I hope you become that and more.

I wish for you all that life can offer. Everything that is beautiful. Everything that can be painful. Only until we know our depths can we feel what is true.

I will miss you for all the lessons you have taught me.

I will miss you for the love you gave me and I to you.

And I hope you find what you are looking for.

I hope you find the love you need. The love that fits you.

And you will always be in my heart.

On my dying bed, I will remember you. No matter how short our time was.

You will be with me always.

And I will always love you, with no judgement, no constraint.

I will celebrate you everyday with the dawn.

I will shed tears for you with the dusk and run through the twilight with you on my wings.

I will always love you, even if you don’t know it.

You are always in my heart.

The Blake Street Vault And Bad Behavior

Perhaps a bad choice after a night of drinking?