In just about every episode of Fraiser, at some point you'll hear Fraiser say, "Sherry, Niles?"

Well, yesterday J n' I went to pick up a bottle of wine, and we were wandering around the store looking for something new... not that it matters much, because I have no real palate to appreciate the subtleties found in vino.

Actually I was on a wine tour a few months ago, and the guide asked me if I eat a lot of spicy food -- which I do -- and he said that is why I can't pick up on all the complexities of wine. (It made me feel better because the guide said he was exactly the same...) Apparently if you can stand a lot of heat, it means that your taste buds are less sensitive - or at least gradually become less sensitive. Makes sense, I suppose.

I guess if wine was as important to me as spicy food, I might lay off the chili pepper flakes and give my taste buds a break once in a while -- but alas, I am twice the foody as I am the wino, so I will have to simply make due with wine tasting like oaky grapes, with hints of "something". I'm so lame because even without a refined palate, I still keep a little book where I try to write down all my wine notes -- oh yes, I am a pretentious geek alright! But ONLY at home in my jammies in front of J. ;) I figure it's my way of testing my palate, because I write down what I think I taste, and then I'll read the back of the bottle. Meanwhile, J will sit there itching to put a movie on. (He refuses to put it on while I'm tasting because he doesn't want my attention to be divided between the wine and the movie. Funny guy...)

Anyhoo, where was I...?

Oh yes, so J n' I were on the hunt for something new to try, when J points out this rack of sherry. I cringe. "Sherry?"

I was pretty sure that sherry was sweet... and well, we already have two bottles of ice wine and a bottle of orange/chocolate port that were all gifts, and have been taking up space for YEARS because neither of us cares for sweeter wines... Actually the chocolate/orange port might not be too bad, but we're just not interested enough to bother opening it.

I cautioned J, "Are you really going to drink that? I think it's sweet. What if we both hate it?"

"Ah, it's only $8.00," he rationalized.

Ha, yes... $8.00. Clearly a sign that this was a good quality sherry.

"Okay, fair enough. I guess if we don't like it we can always pass it off to my folks when they visit next week. Maybe they'll like it?"

Sounds like a plan.

Later that evening we decided to crack this bottle open for a little taste test. I pulled out two tall fancy glasses that someone gave to me at my shower, but I haven't used yet.... and chances are I may never use again, since I think they're meant for the bottle of ice wine that went with them.

J took a whiff and choked, "Ack! Remember when we opened that bottle of wine and left it in the rack for a few weeks? It stinks like that! It smells like wine gone bad!"

YUM!

I took a whiff. "It smells like cough medicine to me."

J kept commenting how gross it smelled, finally saying, "Well, maybe this isn't the type of wine you're meant to smell and savour."

Ha. Hmm... if you ask me, I always figure if something smells gross, it's not going to taste much better.

I ran to Wikipedia to look up "sherry" so I could see what we were getting outselves into (because I'm a nerd like that), while J poured us each a glass.

The picture on Wikipedia had a glass of sherry next to a bowl of olives. "Maybe you have to eat olives with it to improve the taste," I joked, as I grabbed us each a small ramekin filled to the brim with the little briney snacks.

We sat on the couch staring at the amber-coloured liquid before us, as if it were two tablespoons of gag-worthy cough syrup. We grabbed the stems, clinked out glasses, and took a sip.

J recoiled in disgust. "BLEGH! I need something to get rid of this awful taste!!"

I popped an olive into my mouth. "Well, it's... it's not as baaaad as I thought... it's a bit sweet, nutty, and kind of creamy... but there's something about it that tastes like strong medicine or just too alcoholy. Meh, I really don't like it."

J continued complaining about the taste, so I told him to eat an olive. I think he had three or four.

We both went in for a second sip... It wasn't much better. Even without being a fan of sweet wines, I think I still could've handled it if it weren't for its mediciney kick. That totally ruined it for me.

"Okay, just one more sip and then I'm throwing this out," J said.

I played along and took one more along with him.

J thought he was going to gag, and all I could taste was medicine.

We poured the rest down the drain, and stuck the bottle up in the cupboard above the stove.

"My parents might drink it," I assured J.

I had a big glass of water, while J chugged down a diet A&W rootbeer. He made us a plate of cheese and Triscuts to eat with the rest of our olives and erase that wicked aftertaste from our tongues. In another hour, we felt ready to have a real glass of wine.

I think the next time we watch our Fraiser reruns before bed, when Fraiser asks, "Sherry, Niles?" I might not be able to stop myself from yelling out, "DON'T DO IT, NILES! DON'T DO IT!"

Of course, what did we expect from an $8.00 bottle of sherry?