So
now the dust has settled
and our dreams have come to nothing,
what have we learned? Not much, I think it's fair to say,
except that home-made wine is harder to make than some people would
have you believe. From the end of January to the start of May this
Godawful stuff has been hanging around the house, both promise and
threat, and to be honest the best bit was when it was fermenting in
the upstairs shower, burping to itself and releasing a gentle aroma
of unwashed vests from time to time. Hope is such a dreadful thing.
And
now? Four bottles of red sewage are sitting among all the other
bottles of professionally-made grog, looking for all the world as if
they have a right to be there.
Possible
courses of action:
1)
Leave them another month or so in the near-mystical belief that they
will somehow settle down and transform themselves into something I
can pour into a glass and swallow. I did test the one bottle we
opened for alcohol content and got - if I can read my hydrometer
properly and manage the resulting arithmetic - a reading of 10.85% by
volume, which puts it a shade stronger than Tixylix but not so as
you'd want to shout about it. Sheer inertia will see to it that the
remaining four hang around longer than they should, so I can see
myself taking a sip in a few weeks' time, out of sheer devilry.
Probability:
High
2)
Tip the lot away, then go to the utility room as we grandly name it,
and stare at the now redundant demijohns and other wine-making
parphernalia, shaking my head and making noises between my tongue and
teeth indicative of self-reproach and despair.
Probability:
High
3)
Try and use the DIY wine in cooking. Trouble is, I only know two
recipes which seriously call for red wine, one involving chicken, the
other beef. Chicken tends to come out better; beef just tastes like
beef stew, even down to the stringiness of the beef, no matter what
cut I use. Do I want to commit a pile of expensive ingredients to the
pot, only to discover at the end of the cooking process that my
homebrew has hideously denatured the lot?
Probability:
Medium to low
4)
Look up other people's experiences on the internet. See how common my
experience is and if there's anything I can do to redeem the
situation, short of spending more money on bottles of wine rectifier or
sachets of re-structuring powder. Should I watch the video which came
with the kit all the way through to the end? Perhaps I missed
something. This, plus some time Googling my failure, could be a
morning well spent. To do it, of course, I would have to have a
relatively robust, positive outlook-type psychological constitution
plus an attention span long enough to last a morning. I mean, on
YouTube all those months ago it looked about as difficult as making a
cup of coffee.
Probability:
Low
5)
Get rid of it by adulterating commercially-made wines with
undetectably small percentages of homebrew. Actually, PK came up with
this idea, inspired by the way top French winemakers introduce tiny -
I mean, I%, 3% - additions of Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot to a
basic Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot mix to give their products a nuance,
an intimation of something other. In this case, the idea would be for
the principal red to smother my stuff completely rather than allow
itself to be fragranced by it in any way. It would be a question of
niggardly eking out. I'm tempted by this, I have to say; although if
I have any sense, I'll Google the process first to see if it results in blindness or insanity and what the odds of
that might be.
Probability:
Medium
6)
Find some other, completely alternative, use for it - cleaning the
front steps with it, using it as for anti-corrosion in the car
cooling system, trying it as a wood preservative, textile dye,
watercolourist's medium, anti-attack spray, slug trap, tasteless
practical joke, room scent (with diffuser sticks), enema, facepaint,
sink degreaser, hair dye, Dadaist commentary on the middle classes,
communion wine, untraceable ink for ransom notes, hair tonic, late
Soviet-era borscht, hair remover.
Probability:
Low to zero
7)
Observe, in a moment of more hopeful lucidity, that, whatever else it
may have done, my homebrew has at least given me a full but futile
agenda. And an agenda, of whatever sort, is something we all need,
especially as we get older. Or am I being too cheerful about this?
Probability:
Borderline hundred per
cent
CJ
You can read all the posts tracing our home winemaking saga in chronological order on one page here. Or you can read or download for e-readers a text-only PDF here.
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