Life · Tasting · Travel

Flash Forward Two Vintages

I’m doing my best to imagine – in a TV drama-like scenario – how viewers would try and piece together the events that happened if my last post was the season finale and this was the premiere of the next. Writing book summaries in grade school prepared me for this moment, y’all. Insert a moment to crack my knuckles and stretch my muscles here. Because my fingers typing up all these words is the only exercise my quarantined ass is getting up here on this day.

Anyways, a conscious decision to pause writing was all intentional rather than accidental – the last 2 years have been an exercise in focussing less on wine and more on other parts of myself: a deep-dive into all things queer, Filipino, gastronomic, and cultural, with some splashes of cocktails and wine in between.… read more

Life · Tasting · Travel

On Tokyo, Central Italy, and Miss Vanjie

I wish I could insert a montage of video clips here, combining all the clusterfucks and thrills of the past few months, but written description will have to do. Also, apologizing for a lack of posts is a tired cliché of the peak LiveJournal era, so I won’t do it. Oh, to be 13 again.

Imagine leading a tasting on Japanese whiskies – in Tokyo!

But also, imagine being so disorganized that you plan your Tokyo activities while waiting to board the plane, get lost from hopping on the wrong train from the airport, and have the police yell at your conference’s group in Japanese as we wrestled and tackled each other in Ginza. At some point in the week, you meet up with a Frenchman who tells you a story about the Japanese boyfriend that he keeps secret from his wife and kids, but is still lonely enough to crave your company: he doesn’t say it, but even as we overlook the city, he feels a claustrophobia about Tokyo that’s temporarily soothed by our sashimi and Bordeaux barrel-aged Japanese whisky.… read more

Life · Quaffing

On Nova Scotian bubbles, mature Friulano, and aged Californian Chardonnay

It’s an odd feeling – I’ve spent a decent spoonful of my adult life working outside of Canada, enough that I have to think twice about which boxes and lines I have to fill out on forms. Also very real: living through the lengthy process of waiting at the DMV, and wondering whether I should list my height in centimetres to throw the workers off, only to realize that it’s probably best not to potentially risk going back to the end of the line. Can Fahrenheit not?

Wine availability, politics, and markets are markedly different in Vancouver compared to San Francisco, and keeping my nose close to both is a bit of a challenge, especially with the constantly evolving wine scene in Canada.… read more

Life · Quaffing · Tasting

2016 was questionable, so here are 20 wines to pair with 2017

I ended a past blog post – themed: a review of 2015 – with the words “Welcome, 2016. I will cut you.” Though I feel like I did personally make some substantial dents in this crunchy titanium can of a year, the general consensus seems to be that we created a blueprint for goodness, but then said blueprint was stolen, lit on fire, and then puréed with an unwashed beige-coloured towel embroidered with the words “~fUcK yOu~”, styled in Comic Sans MS.

I won’t fill this post with hopes for 2017 so that I don’t build myself a bigger bowl of disappointment, but instead will list wines that remind me of an upwards trend of hope, a vague connection to the vapid consolation of Pantone’s Color of the Year, a fresh and flora-driven yellow-green named “Greenery“.… read more

Life · Tasting · Travel

Brun-hello? It’s me. San Francisco and a throwback to 12 bottles

You guys! It’s been around three weeks since I’ve arrived in San Francisco for what I’ve been telling everyone are secret wine projects. Which they are. It hasn’t really kicked in that I’m here yet, to be honest, and the whole city just seems like a stretched-out Vancouver with Inception-like shifting of buildings. And much less green. It’s like Vancouver and San Francisco were made from the same grape – but clearly have different expressions – like Chianti and Brunello, or something.

And it’s fucking tech central, you guys. I mean – yes, obviously – but have you seen HBO’s Silicon Valley? I’m convinced that it’s not satire. Attempting to suavely grab a baby carrot while maintaining eye contact during someone’s pitch during a Stanford mixer, and then accidentally dipping your hand in a bowl of ranch dressing?… read more

Life · Quaffing · Tasting

24 wines for turning 24

This post serves two purposes: a sincere smile-and-nod to the 23rd year of my life, and a spring cleaning wine dump of, coincidentally, a number of bottles that equals the number of anniversaries since I was pushed out of my mother. Alas. The past prime number of a year has been good to me, and I’m stoked for the next. Beyond this whole becoming-an-adult thing, I’ve done many things including completing the WSET Diploma (i hate to keep mentioning about it – but perhaps the youngest in BC to do so!), changing jobs, travelling to New York, travelling to France, travelling to Spain, and other things that would probably be best not to put on the internet. Heh.

And home. Oh God – connecting to your roots and family – sometimes I dig myself way too deep into wine culture and its countries that I forget where I come from.… read more

Life · Quaffing

On Dim Sum, Champagne, and not drinking

dimsumchampagne2016

To be more specific, my shitty New Year’s Resolution is to only allow myself to drink in the company of other people, having only broken this rule (before its inception) on January 1st: a seemingly un-celebratory bottle of Trebbiano d’Abruzzo. We’re only a month in, and yes – it’s been difficult. Of course, the temptation drifts in front of me like a horse and a carrot: I work in the industry, I’ve returned to work hours that demand refreshment, and I study wine frequently. But it’s always the third day of no alcohol that’s the worst, where a sour mood brews and where my perception of the quiet becomes even quieter. Ugh. I’m also catching up on the latter half of Breaking Bad; someone just opened a bottle of Pol Roger and I’m dying.… read more

Life · Quaffing · Tasting

2015 ends and 2016 trends

I’m a bit late to this #bye2015hello2016 stuff! Anyways, I’ve said it way too many times than you care to read: I’m not big on New Year’s resolutions. But this is the first year where reflecting and looking forward to the next year has felt the least forced. Despite my abrupt and perhaps ephemeral positivity, I won’t be superimposing any fortune cookie pieces of advice onto filtered landscapes anytime soon – March seems to be my I-fucking-hate-everything downfall month anyway, so we’ll see how much my outlook relapses.

joshlikeswine2015

At the beginning of 2015, I made the tongue-in-cheek resolution to be a bit more selfish: to not to be guilt-ridden about having a balanced serving of things that make me happy and to give less of a shit about what other people think.… read more

Life · Quaffing · Tasting · Travel

Barcelona: Cava to end the Saga

Spoiler alert: my few days in Spain were better than my two and a half weeks in France. Sorry, France. I was rooting for you, we were all rooting for you. #BeQuietTiffany

Our hostel was superior to the one in Paris: Erin and I helped cook dinner one night, we met a Canadian from Edmonton, and we made a cab driver go through McDonalds after a hostel-hosted bar-hopping session that eventually ended on a club next to a beach. And then drinking on said beach, which was a reaaaaal big blur. Have you ever drunkenly told someone they look like Ygritte from Game of Thrones way too many times?

There’s a story later that night involving myself ejecting the Devil’s Liquids from my soul, but let’s just summarize here and say that I fucking covered that up better than all of the Desperate Housewives would have, combined.… read more

Life · Quaffing · Tasting · Travel

Pain in Champagne

When your only clean shirt is that floral one you bought in Paris, but everyone in this city dresses in understated colours, and then for some reason your ankle is busted in the morning so your swag level dips into the negative as you hobble past some college students who stare at you. I suppose life was finally punishing me for being so seemingly masturbatory on social media despite my lack of #blessed, and I thought sucking it up and drinking a couple of pints of beer in quick succession would numb the pain. But after dinner, we had to cab home not without me drawing more attention by hopping on one foot out of the fucking restaurant, though luckily Theran ran out and bought Champagne, because he is a fucking god.… read more