On the Ledge Part Three: Infiltration into Canada: Is There a Future in East German Riesling?

So how did I end up in Canada? It was before our beloved Berlin Wall fell that I was transferred by the Stasi to a post at the Canadian German Friendship League headquartered in Toronto. The goal was to ferret out and neutralize hostile elements to the East German Democratic Republic. I was based in Toronto and lived in a cockroach infested apartment on Victoria Park Avenue 5 minutes north of Danforth Avenue. Being German my cover was a sausage and sauerkraut vendor from a cart outside the Toronto Stock Exchange in the middle of a capitalist shitstorm in front of First Canadian Place. I soon became known by the hot shot capitalists and their toady lawyers and accountants as the Happy Kraut. I  must have served up thousands of the tasty sausages. After coming home and washing the stench of grilled sausages off my body it was a series of nightly events at some dank hall consisting of lectures, propaganda films, East German cinema and beer nights. What a ratty bunch of Canadians. It soon became apparent it was the free beer and food that drew them in. I mean they were not even proletarian but lumpen proletarian unemployed, drug addicts and the like seeking to fill their bellies and not their minds with glorious East German Canadian friendship.

My mission was doomed to fail and I informed my superiors in East Berlin who seemed unable to focus on anything other than a crumbling East Germany and the threat of looming mobs of angry East Germans furious at the ruining of their lives by our mighty security force the Stasi. It was time for a new cover and it involved championing East German Riesling. Well one slight problem and that was there was no drinkable East German Riesling as we had to import it in huge tankers from the German community in Paraguay. It was rotgut but add some sugar and Austrian anti-freeze and it wasn’t that bad.

RKS Wine: Croatia’s Dalmatian Dog

I enjoyed Plavac Mali which is the king of red wine in Croatia with much of the grape being grown on the Dalmatian Coast. The Dalmatian Dog is from the Babić grape also grown on the Dalmatian coast. It is known under more than 30 different names. We get so little Croatian wine due to terrified buyers and management of the Liquor Overcontrol Board of Ontario shovelling the same varietals year after year. Good luck on ever finding any sparkling Brazilian, wines from England, Romania, Bulgaria, Texas and so on. The easy money for a liquor monopoly is what sells well and it sells well as there is so little choice to consumers. There is big money in Chardonnay but no money in Encruzado. The Liquor Control Board of Ontario quite frankly is boring.

How does the Dalmatian dog fare? As for aromatics there is some sweet red cherry hardly ground-breaking but dig deeper there is some intriguing roast almonds and spice, cooked rhubarb and some milk chocolate. On the palate the tannins are moderate with back earth, cranberry, cactus pear, white pepper and a manageable and agreeable dusting of spice. The finish is short.

The LCBO Vintages Catalogue says the wine would pair well with sporki makaruli which features rich beef spiced with cinnamon and clove. I think I can agree with that. I have been in Croatia 4 times over the years and ate many a plate of greasy goulash. Perhaps it was not goulash but sporki makaruli?

Whatever messages this wine is sending you they are clean and vibrant. Yes this is what organic wine can convey.

(The Dalmatian Dog Babić 2018, Organic, Dalmatia, Testament Winery, Šibenik, Croatia, $19.95, Liquor Control Board of Ontario # 18810, 750 mL, 14%, RKS Wine Rating 85/100).

“Travels to a Different Time” : September 1989: Cancun, Mexico: Trip to Tulum

Tulum is a must if one is in Cancun. Booked a tour. Continental breakfast was provided for on board. The Mayan village stopped at was squalid in comparison to the ones near Chicen Itza. Beer and cakes were provided as a snack but given the overcast weather no one seemed to be in a party mood. In comparison to Chicen Itza the archaeological remains were minor but what an amazing backdrop of white sand and ocean. Lunch was at Xelha with excellent fish and the sweetest tomatoes I have ever had. On to Akumel which was a collection of hotels on a spectacular beach. Unfortunately a rain storm made swimming problematic.

RKS Film: “Lovely Jackson”: A Horrific Miscarriage of Justice

I encountered a slight feeling of guilt watching what was perhaps a documentary I should not be watching. As a wee lad we had a cottage in Vermont which was just over an hour from our home in Montreal. Inevitably there would be some horrific car accident on the road to or from our cottage and there were crowds standing by the wrecks gawking at the blood and gore. Boy did my parents let those gawkers have it. Staring at pain and misery like some type of spectator sport was morally unacceptable. I had the same feeling watching “Lovely Jackson”. I felt like I was gawking at the misery of black American Rickey Jackson wrongfully convicted of the murder of a 58-year-old money order collector in Cleveland on May 19,1975. He was sent to Death Row but later as Ohio abolished capital punishment his sentence was changed to life imprisonment.

Jackson claims he was beaten senseless by members of the Cleveland police force and never read his rights. His conviction was based on the inconsistent and contradictory evidence of a 12-year-old Edward Vernon a paper boy who allegedly drove by the shooting incident is his bicycle. Vernon was harassed and threatened by the Cleveland police if not coerced into pointing the finger at Jackson. The testimony of another eyewitness was ignored and that witness said Jackson was not the killer.

I wondered what could be so “lovely” about this horrific miscarriage of justice? Nothing really but “Lovely” as you will see was a beginning to a new life that Jackson was robbed of.

39 years of false imprisonment (two and a half years of it on Death Row) would enrage just about anyone but I would say it was “lovely” that Jackson simply marched on day after day from a beginning in Death Row to the end of the nightmare by his conviction being overturned. He bore this frightful experience with grace, dignity and even forgiveness.

It was the Ohio Innocence Project that championed for Jackson forcefully pointing out the inconsistent testimony of Edward Vernon and the lack of attention paid to the eyewitness who stated Jackson was not the killer. Vernon recanted his testimony. Suddenly 39 years later Jackson is released without a job, money or place to live. In a world he has been deprived of for almost 4 decades. Despite Ohio having a wrongfully accused compensation fund it took three years of fighting by Jackson to get $2.6 million on compensation. As a lawyer cognizant of how damages are awarded in civil suits $2.6 million is a sick joke for 39 years of being unable to live a life he was entitled to. While Jackson may had been compensated for his loss of income while being in prison the $2.6 million should have been augmented by a sizeable amount of punitive damages.

For the time of incarceration, the documentary is filmed in black and white and upon obtaining freedom in colour.

Although you may be gawking in disbelief watching the documentary it is a story that must be told. You may feel anger and disgust as you should but Jackson has turned hell into a second chance at a life he should have had. The recreation of his life in prison was shot in the actual prison where he was incarcerated. A brutal mind-numbing place.

The parole process is unmasked here as slanted against those who insist their innocence. Like blind bloodhounds the parole board members hunger for admissions of guilt and repentance as browning points for freedom. Jackson refused to give them these hollow statements and was further penalized for his claims of innocence knowing well he could have played the game and been out of jail sooner.

The documentary had its world premiere on June 17th at the American Black Film Festival. After that I would expect it will make the festival circuit and eventually be shown on television and available on VOD.

You can see the trailer here https://vimeo.com/716874497/1fdd2d6413

RKS Film Rating 86/100.

RKS Wine: 2014 Memories of the Douro: Exhaustion Mitigated by the Thrill

My media trip to the Douro in 2014 was memorable. It was early November and a chill had descended upon the Douro which can be furnace like in the summer. 5 days starting at 9 and ending around 5 hopping around from winery to winery in a Mercedes van with a guide. But that was only the beginning of the day as there were 6-10 more wines to try with a dinner served with the finest silverware and crystal. Then cheese and dessert with Port afterwards. One evening it went on to 2 a.m. So if you think this type of trip is a piece of cake think again. After trying some 250 ports and wines over 5 days you start to shut down. But the memories give you stamina. Perhaps the best might have been at a Sandeman quinta in the Douro at noon having Sandeman Splashes (Port and Tonic with a twist of lime) on a terrace high above the Douro in a feeble November sun being interviewed by the Portuguese press. My 5 minutes of fame. I might have been on the 11 p.m. news?

On our last day and I was with a freelancer for the Globe & Mail we pulled into Real Companhia Velha in Vila Nova de Gaia (right across the river from Porto) and it was a massive enterprise unlike the provincial quintas we had visited. Industrial wine production. Massive cellars. Wines being shipped all over the world some already labelled for distribution in French supermarkets. Dinner was to follow at their restaurant with no more tastings and an exit at 9 p.m. as we had a 5 a.m. flight to Frankfurt so it was arranged we would be out from our dinner no later than 9 p.m. Well shiver my timbers the no tasting deal was shattered as we walked into the private dining room with 10 bottles awaiting tasting. What a struggle and dinner arrived at 9 p.m. I had to pack so managed to escape with our driver back to the hotel the Teatro at 10 p.m. Packed and was in bed by 11 and up at 3 a.m. for the flight to Frankfurt. Thank God I learnt how to spit out wine. Not exactly easy to do initially but with practice easy peasy.

The Liquor Control Board of Ontario is one of the biggest purchasers of wine in the world so wine writers from Ontario are treated with respect if not veneration.

So when I see this wine in front of me from Real Companhia Velha I suddenly feel exhausted with a bit of post traumatic wine tasting disorder. I do remember learning that France was their biggest customer for Port as they used it many pastries!

We are trying a Porca de Murça Reserva 2017 Tinto which is 40% Touriga Nacional, 20% Tinta Roriz and 40% field blend. A field blend is a throwback from earlier days where a mixture of different grapes were planted in a field and not separated by varietal so who knows what you are getting! And on occasion you can score a huge winner not exactly knowing what grape is involved! Agony for a varietal obsessed person.

On the nose this is a mature wine that has lost the rashness of youth and is sliding into old age. Does it need some mobility assistance and is it restricted to throwing a medicine ball? Deep notes of black cherry, mocha, raspberry, lavender and yes rhubarb and raisin pie. The Portuguese looked at me with puzzled eyes when I said I noted rhubarb and raisin pie in some of the Douro red wines. Rhubarb was not in their vocabulary. And raisin pie? This was a truly a Quebec pie that has long disappeared but its taste and smell has never left my olfactory senses. My goodness 2014 memories are gushing!

On the palate dark chocolate, cherry nectar and Ontario butter tart. Short finish. This is a dense wine but is becoming befuddled and rapidly heading into decline. If you want to experience a mature wine this is for you. I am not sure why but I tried a Babu Reserva 2018 from the Tejo and a Lua Cheia 2019 Old Vines Red from the Douro recently and the Babu was long gone and the Lua Cheia very long on the tooth. This ageism is rare in Portuguese wines but thrice in the last couple of weeks? What is happening?

I think this wine would suit a Bachalau dish (dried cod casserole). Yes you express disbelief with a red wine matching a cod dish. Trust me as a former nonbeliever experience has taught me this is a great match as well as with a cod curry!

(Porca de Murça Reserva Tinto 2017, DOC Douro, Real Companhia Velha, Vila Nova de Gaia, Portugal, $17.95, Liquor Control Board of Ontario # 684753. 750 mL, 14.5%, RKS Wine Rating 87/100).

Golf and Your Mental Game: The Destructive Power of Improvement

After working as a golf Marshall I finally accepted a chunk of reality after playing 45 games. I am stuck in a range of 80-95 for 18 holes. In and out. Up and down. I am prisoner of a range and after 50 years of golf the time has come to accept that reality. The first game of the season could be the best and after 44 games the last game could be the worst. Accept that reality and the incessant desire to improve may fade and instead of a tirade of self criticism as your game is not improving you might find yourself enjoying the golf moment you are in and enjoying and laughing at the bad shots. In fact take it a step further you are on the golf course so is there really a bad shot! With age and experience comes wisdom if you embrace acceptance?

“Travels to a Different Time” : September 1989: Cancun, Mexico: Drinking Tequila from Baby Bottles and Now is Not the Time for a Shark Attack!

Off to Isla Mujeres (Island of Women) just off Cancun. It has some incredible beaches and there is the Cave of The Sleeping Sharks made famous by Jacques Cousteau. $30 USD on the “Festival Cancun”. Beautiful turquoise water! Buffet continental breakfast was served. Lots of juices and pastry. Mostly young American couples in their twenties. There was even a live band which added to the festivities although they were not particularly good. After breakfast it was open bar and the gringos were guzzling down tequila like it was a frat party. Actually most looked like they were frat boys and girls. In 90 minutes we were at El Garrafon beach which is a national park with coral reefs and tropical fish that swim around your feet. It was a beautiful snorkeling adventure of course keeping your eyes open for any sharks that were not sleeping in the caves. We had an hour at the beach which was probably wise due to the intense heat and blazing sun. Lunch was delicious in buffet format with chicken, ribs, guacamole, tostados and lots of fresh fruit. We cruised into town and wandered around with lots of shops in a quaint town that has been around for awhile. Small and narrow streets. So different than the Hotel Zone in Cancun.

Then on the cruise back to Cancun the young Americans hit the tequila real hard loving the tequila drinking contest which consisted of drinking a tequila from a baby bottle. What a banal and idiotic event or can we indulge the frivolity of gringo youth? By the time we were back in Cancun a couple of gringos had passed out most likely experienced in so doing by the many frat parties they had attended. Then taking a page from the Time Share hustle a tip jar was passed around and each “donation” received applause from the staff. Milk those gringos! Feed on gringo guilt.

A couple of days later we returned with a boat that looked as if it was ready to capsize. You know like those disasters you hear about in the Philippines or India. I noticed this was no gringo express but full of locals. Received stares by surprised locals seeing a rich gringo amongst the commoners. Like being stared at by gypsies in Romania like I was a spaceman. While I am not worried as I am a good swimmer but if this rickety tub sinks I am sure the sharks will wake up and make me their dinner.

RKS Wine: Confidencial Reserve Rosé from Lisbon

Confidencial is a label of Casa Santos Lima. They make a low-priced red that is a real winner and one of those old-style red wines that needs some serious ageing to flourish. This rosé is from “more than 10 grapes” and the winery considers the types as “confidential”. I suspect that with so many varieties we are looking at a field blend meaning that the grapes are all mixed growing in the field. Very old school from a time when grapes were grapes and wine was wine.

The wine is neither dark nor light pink but somewhere in the middle. On the nose somewhat delicate notes of raspberry, cherry, tangerine and wet stone. On the palate there are some tannic influences but not imposing ones. A bit strange but the dominant palate influence would seem to be marmalade! There is a fine seam of acidity. Notes of watermelon, ginger and a bit of white pepper. A short finish.

All said and done a run of the mill rosé and rather weak kneed like the polite response to Tsar Putin by NATO. I would say for the same price you can be drinking a Featherstone Estate Rosé 2021 from Niagara and experience how exceptional a rosé can be.

(Confidencial Reserva Rosé 2021, Vinho Regional Lisboa, Casa Santos Lima, Portugal, $15.95, Liquor Control Board of Ontario # 19846, 750 mL, 12.5%, RKS Wine Rating 84/100).

Part 2: Postcards from the Edge: A Bit About Me; Vlad the Rat

I was born in Dresden in the DDR otherwise known as East Germany on August 12, 1955. My father was a colonel in the East German Patriotic Army in the intelligence unit. We travelled around Eastern Europe as father was assigned as a “friendly attaché” to various People’s Army bases in Hungary, Czechoslovakia, Bulgaria and Romania. I had many kiddie comrade friends in these countries and I became proficient in 4 languages. For his trips to Moscow we never accompanied him but he compensated for that by bringing home numerous large containers of caviar and bottles of cheap vodka. He always said the Russians can’t make decent beer like we Germans but their vodka was excellent and superior to the East German rocket fuel vodka. I suppose the highlight was the three years we spent in New York as my father had some role to play with the East German delegation to the United Nations. I attended a private school in Manhattan and learnt English and met many decadent capitalist teenagers. I considered them weaklings as the United States had no compulsory military service. But they were a fun lot. I developed a fondness for hamburgers and macaroni and cheese.

I completed my gymnasium studies at the Stalin School of Superior Studies in Dresden. My university was the Potsdam School of Espionage where I graduated with honours in double agent recognition and squashing counterrevolutions.

My mother Helga was a kind and loving proletarian who worked as a cook for the Loving Comrades chain of restaurants popular in eastern Europe. She could cook a mean schnitzel and her goulash was famous for being meaty and devoid of grease. She always said the horsemeat used in her goulash was lean and from healthy animals unlike those dirty Yugoslavs and their greasy goulash that only Tito lovers could eat. She was also a host for several years of a show “Cooking Like a Comrade”.

I had no siblings.

I did my military service with the Stasi, the East German Security Police. I learnt how to break up and discredit capitalist roader traitor organizations and infiltrate and spy on threats to the fatherland. I was assigned to East Berlin to organize the Students for a Strong Fatherland. In fact I met a beady eyed man there called Vlad Pucken with the Russian embassy. He was a very boring character continuously boasting about his childhood battles with man eating rats in his impoverished Moscow neighbourhood. He learnt and appreciated how dangerous a cornered rat was and said watch him if he was ever cornered. How that mealy mouthed low level bureaucrat rose so meteorically in oligarchical Russia was beyond me and my German comrades. We called him “Vlad the Rat”.

So how did I end up in Canada you may ask? And in clutches of a Riesling Re-education Camp in Wa Wa Ontario!

“Travels to a Different Time” : 9September1989: Cancun, Mexico: Lost in a Sea of American Yuppies and Mexican Workers: More Time Share Beggars

Took the local bus into town to pick up some breakfast. I am the only gringo on it and it was full of Mexican workers. It has a huge crack in one of the windows. Elephant ears and banana bread. Headed out for a look at the commercial section of Cancun and hustled by 4 different Mexicans about “incredible time share deals”. These people remind me of the gypsies begging in Eastern Europe. Scouted out two malls both of which were gloriously airconditioned and devoid of human life. A massive attack of the runs hit me and I had to scramble down some rocks to let it fly. God help me if anyone saw that! With no toilet paper it was a sticky situation. The hotel strip is sterile. A cocktail of tequila and orange on the balcony. Hailed a cab to Pericos but that snooty joint required long pants so off to Calypso a rip off joint with an interesting group of owners. Long hairs and well dressed. The tables were packed with American yuppies downing all sorts of frozen drinks like money was no object. An outrageously expensive dinner and horrific service. As I left without leaving a tip I heard a surly voice saying thanks and tips are not included. I felt scammed by the extortionate prices and nonexistent service so no tip. I don’t think I have ever done that before but after being stuck and scammed so many times in Mexico it felt good to stick it to them for a change