The experiment with rhubarb wine continues. I bottled another nine bottles from a couple of jugs that I had racked earlier. A tenth bottle I left uncorked, and I am trying it out.
It's . . . um . . . young tasting. A good few months in the cellar is obviously still called for. Nonetheless, it's not terrible, and when it is cut with some lemonade it actually makes for a pretty good summer cocktail.
No ill effects, yet, but there is still plenty of the bottle left.
Monica wasn't willing to sample it -- she and Porter went deep sea fishing yesterday with the nature center campers -- and though they came back with some nice bluefish and striper -- she also came back with lingering queasiness.
The bluefish (which is best served the day it's caught), was fantastic with some garlic bread and a salad snipped out of the garden. Tonight it is the striped sea bass and flounder that the campers caught from the shore on Thursday.
I am salivating at the thought of this as I type. I tipped in at 230 pounds when I finally got around to visiting the gym yesterday - and that's a few pounds above my previous high. So, it's time to start eating lightly - and spending some of my time hungry - which meant a peach, some plums and a few crackers with cheese at lunch. I am famished and at Monica's mercy.
I don't think the rhubarb wine can sustain me much longer . . . .