Tag Archives: wine

photo friday: sparkle, shine, shimmer

16 Oct


In case you were wondering if the rumors are true, yes, northern Michigan is rife with wineries, distilleries, and craft breweries.

This is not a bad thing.

In fact, it’s quite the opposite, particularly when you come across something you’ve never had before, namely a sparkling pinot grigio in a lovely winery with a spectacular view of Grand Traverse Bay.

Dear Sparkling Pinot Grigio,

Where have you been all my life?

You are pretty and I like you.



But as to the other rumors, that Michigan is also great lakes, great times, well, okay, well, yes, those rumors are true as well.

photo friday: what are you trying to say?

9 May

My friend Devon and I were riding the elevator up to our office recently, and she turned to me and said, “I have a present for you. I saw this on Pinterest twice and thought of you immediately both times, so I had to make if for you.”

Wine Mug

Things I love #106: Having crafty friends.

Things I love #107: Some peppermint teas bear a striking resemblance to pinot grigio.

photo friday: a sampling

19 Apr


Grocery shopping has long been one of my favorite activities, and the other weekend it was made even better by the fact that the wine samplers were out in full force at my local store.

Dangerous, I tell you. Marvelously, deliciously dangerous.

Wine Sample Saturdays is the answer to all of life’s question. Namely, “How did I wind up with a shopping cart full of brie and Twinkies?” 

the debate

22 Feb

Today is Ash Wednesday, which is the national Catholic day of grief as we prepare to give up the things we love for forty days and forty nights because you guys, for real, me giving up Cheetos is completely akin to Jesus dying on the cross for our sins.

Tit for tat.

Catholics across the world last night took their last sip of gin, their last bite of pizza, gave an Edward R. Murrow-esque signoff to Facebook, clicked off of the ShopBop website or dusted off their rosary beads and brushed up on the Apostles’ Creed* with a promise to return to church for the next month of Sundays.

The discussions of what to give up for Lent are always interesting ones to me mostly because they largely take place in my head, where I’ll have you know I am a scintillating conversationalist. There is a push-pull feeling to these debates, what do I want to give up, what SHOULD I give up, but should I really give X, Y or Z up? Because I know I cannot live for forty days without it, and I’ll just end up breaking my Lenten promise and feel bad about myself and that doesn’t really do Jesus any good, now does it?

Ergo, giving up pizza is out of the question.

Plus, what else am I supposed to eat on Lenten Fridays, when I can’t eat meat?

In the past, I’ve given up alcohol, sweets, potato chips, French fries, clothes shopping, and for a brief two weeks in high school, pop. But that last one was only until my best girlfriends convinced me that really, Jesus would not mind if I started drinking pop again, because me without my Pepsi products is simply a cruel boil on the world at large. Better to remain a delicate, if over-caffeinated, flower bringing peace and aspartame to the masses than cuss out Sister Mary Lightacandle every day because she walks too slowly down the hall. (Under my breath, of course.)

And before you question the giving up of sweets from the self-proclaimed salty/savory lover, know this: As soon as you tell me I can’t have something, I immediately want it/crave it. Which is how I found myself gulping huge quantities of root beer floats for breakfast a couple of years ago on Mardi Gras morning, followed by an éclair cake binge later in the day.

No judging.

This year the debate has loomed large in my head. Maybe clothes shopping again? No, I’ve been on a shopping hiatus anyway, so it would be more just an extension of my normal life, which seems like cheating to me. Try for another forty days of no sweets? Maybe, but I just got a bounty of flour from my friend Turner (another story for another post), and I don’t want to wait to use it. Pasta, or maybe carbs in general might be a good one, but that bears too much of a whiff of being akin to Atkins, or like a diet, and in my head while Lent might essentially be a test of willpower, using it as a God-approved time to diet seems, well, it just doesn’t seem right.

So I’ve made the executive decision: No booze. During the week.

Weekends, though. Different story.




What, if anything, are you giving up for Lent?

*At which point they will be in for a shock, because they changed the words. All that work Miss Traman did in second grade, making us memorize the creed for our first reconciliation? DOWN THE DRAIN. Thanks a lot, Pope.

photo friday: things past

5 Aug

I got a new laptop this week, and am mid-process of having half my stuff available to me, and the other half stuck on my old laptop, which I can only use sparingly because The Swede took my power cord back to DC with him, and, well, my battery on that laptop is for shit.

But that’s neither here nor there. What IS here is that I was going through some old photos on an external hard drive and came across this one, which is from a trip to a place that would become my absolute favorite winery in Virginia, Aspen Dale.

The Swede and I first went out there around(ish) this time last year, and I fell in love. You know how wine people always tell you to “drink that with red meat” or “sip this with a soft cheese,” or “for God’s sake, woman, stop guzzling”? The treat of Aspen Dale is that they actually GIVE you a plate of little bits of food that pair well with their wines, like a small piece of pheasant sausage, or a chunk of dark chocolate, a small round bite of goat cheese.


The grounds were simply gorgeous as well, which sealed my love. So much so that it was the last stop on my Go Away Wine Tour 2011 in March that The Swede arranged for me and the gals.

But I hope it won’t be the last stop forever. Something that good and wonderful should be experienced over and over and over, as many times as possible.

photo friday: women on top

18 Mar

In honor of Women’s History Month, today on McPolish we bring you women’s words of wisdom. And by we I mean me. And by words of wisdom I mean You Said It, Sister.


because packing is for suckers

7 Mar

So I’m moving.

Have I mentioned that?

Back to Chicago.

I’m actually not sure that I have, because it’s all happened quite quickly, so if I hadn’t told you before, my apologies. I think I packed my brain away in one of those boxes over there. I hope I remembered to wrap it with protective newspaper like I did with my teacups.

On Saturday I had some big plans to get more boxes and pack up more of the massive amounts of stuff I had no idea I accumulated in five and a half years or could actually fit into a studio apartment, but there you go. You think you’ve been living in a small shoebox that can’t hold more than a few books and a pot or pan or four, and then you discover that you’ve been living in what turns out to be Mary Poppins’ carpetbag. Excuse me while I move my coatrack and potted fern.

But my plans were thwarted—ah, gee, damn, pisser, because I do so love packing so much—when what I thought was going to be a break for brunch and a movie with The Swede turned into a wine tour party extravaganza complete with The Swede, my girlfriends, and a rented pimped out SUV.

Packing could wait. Virginia wine country could not. And neither could making a few more memories with my DC family.