Sunday Wine Tour

I am not a wine lover. White wines are tolerable; the only type of wine I can truthfully claim to enjoy is riesling. Red wine? Forget it. Really, I've tried. I enrolled in a wine tasting course at school last year, thinking that an explanation of the elements of wines and exposure to fine wines would cultivate my appreciation. Instead, I spent one evening a week rolling my eyes at the pretentiousness of the instructors. "Yes, I think I detect a fine hint of thyme, perhaps a bit of oak (sniff, sniff), some crisp notes of pear. It's a bit tannic, but the bouquet is quite nice-- yes, very nice. I get a bit of vanilla in the nose, perhaps a touch of fig." Meanwhile, sample after sample, I'm thinking bulllllshit!-- this all tastes like bitter grape juice.

Nevertheless, I resist acceptance of my unrefined tastes. Israel has an abundance of wineries, and the superintendant's husband organized a tour of two nearby sites for a relaxing Sunday morning activity. We started out the day at the Binyamina winery-- a smaller winery established in 1952, which was originally a jasmine farm/perfume factory. They produce approximately 2 million bottles of wine each year.

Entrance of the winery.

Pre-wine tasting.

(The Asian female pictured above is not me. I know, it's confusing.
I'm Asian, she's Asian. I'm female, she's female. But really, it's not me.)

The wine tasting room.

Wine tasting room decor.

Zach and Stacy and our lovely metal spittoon.

At Binyamina, my favorite wine was the 30 shekel (~7 dollar) chardonnay that everyone else hated.

Next, we moved on to the more highly acclaimed Tishbi winery. This family-owned winery has been in operation since 1882. It is located near Zichron Ya'akov, at the foot of the Carmel mountains. Their brandy won 1st prize at an international competition a few years back.

Winery patio.

Inside the brandy distillery.

You can't pass the painted red line. If you do, the kosher wines will no longer be kosher.

Barrels of wine.

This room smelled great-- nice and oaky.

Lunch at Tishbi.

As always, the kiddies provided entertainment:

Here is Nicholas, who looks like a small old man.
His interests include grabbing beards and clapping.

Here is Gabriel, who ran around yelling about "La BEE! La BEE!"
(His mom is Chilean, his father American.)

I hated the wines at Tishbi. While everyone was fawning over the Tishbi Estate Cabernet Special Edition 2001 and scooping up bottles of wine, I bought a little clay mug because it was illogically designed with an uncomfortably small and awkward handle at the foot of the glass. While I enjoyed the wine tour, what was already known was reconfirmed: I am not a wine person.