Riesling the Body Electric

After going around and around with a grape juice supplier, FedEx, UPS, the grape juice supplier again, a priest, a rabbi, and the ghost of a grizzled old prospector, I now know how Rosa Parks felt when she couldn't just get her six goddamn gallons of Riesling juice.

A couple weeks back, I found a supplier online in Northern California who was willing to send your humble diarist six gallons of premium Johannisberg Riesling juice from a reputable vineyard for only $35. I would have to send a nationally recognized transport company out to get the juice who would then use their well-established shipping channels to get it to me, but that was a mere trifle. I ordered a Steinberg Geisenheim yeast, did a little research and idly waited.

The Federal Express Company of Memphis, Tennessee was to pick up my juice on Thursday and deliver it to me on Saturday. As I watched Texas beat the pants off of Missouri that Saturday evening, I watched with great eagerness for gleam of the FedEx truck's headlights against the gray mailbox planted in our front yard.

Sadly, for reasons that I still don't quite have the capacity to understand, that gleam would not shimmer that day.

Tuesday, I drove home expectantly after the Internet had notified me that my sweet, sweet juice would be resting comfortably on the porch, and indeed it was. I knew it would be heavy, probably upwards of 60 pounds.

But the box couldn't have weighed more than 20. Something was amiss.

It was packed especially well. Two pieces of half inch thick plywood sandwiched a six gallon sealed pail, held down tightly by metal bands. This shit wasn't going anywhere.

After considerable effort, I liberated the pail from the metal and plywood, and pried open the sealed pail. Inside, maybe two gallons of white juice that was bubbling like crazy. I was confused. Did the team member I spoke with on the phone send me five liters? Did a roving band of street toughs abscond with my precious juice? As it was well past 6:00 PDT, there would be no way to know until the morning.

FedEx was nice enough. They said that no notes about juice flying all over the fuck had been placed on the shipment. I said thank you to the chap and bid him good day. Then I called the juice monger with that information.

Also very, very accomodating. The guy who packed my order called and assured me that he had indeed packed SIX gallons of pure Johannisberg Riesling. He admitted that they didn't ship a ton of juice, and that most customers came to their warehouse to pick up their orders. It was then that I notified him, in my mind at least, that I was not most customers.

After a few minutes of discussion, he said he'd be happy to send me a new pail for no cost. I thanked him and bid him good day as well, and dispatched a courier from the United Parcel Service of Atlanta, Georgia to him post haste.

After a couple of missed connections, the new pail was picked up on Monday the 27th of October and is currently scheduled to arrive here tomorrow. It is then that we will see if the fates smile upon the Huevos Caballos 2008 Riesling, or if they demand more sacrifice.

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As a brief post script, I should inform you that I'm not going to dispose of the orphaned two gallons of juice like some kid of jerk. It was already well into fermentation by the time I got it, nearly to dryness. Since I hadn't yeasted it up yet, that means that the wild yeasts who summer in the grapes had started their dirty business and had eaten most of the sugar already. If I'm careful, it may produce half a case of Huevos Caballos 2008 Riesling Reserva, an ultra-exclusive wine.

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As another brief post script, I shall now update you on the status of the fruit wines. I racked them all this evening, and they all smell and taste terrible, except the strawberry, which tastes somewhat like something that a human not in prison might wish to drink.