Tag Archives: Uncle Art

Rose not Rosé

Uncle Art came through again … this time with a home-crafted wine that has rose petals in it. Rose petals from his garden!   It was a delicate wine that hinted of gourmet candyfloss – if there is such a thing.  Well done my Uncle – I like the duel going on between yourself and Uncle Ron.  Keep me in the middle of it. 

Gooseberry Wine

I  obtained a bottle of Gooseberry Wine this week – same supplier as my High Bush Cranberry Wine .  This wine had only a hint of smelly sock on the nose. I was a little disappointed because I like being offended by a wine’s nose. I once had a delightful Coyote’s Run Cabernet Franc that smelled like a goat farm (and not in the good way) but it was the best wine at the wine festival. In any event I did not detect any evidence that a cat had peed on this gooseberry bush, just good old gooseberries.

My collection of Uncle Art's wine


This Gooseberry wine was not nearly as tart as the instant puckering taste of a gooseberry but  rather tasted of very nice ripe fruit.  I also received a lovely Elderflower wine that was delicate – like you would expect a flower wine to be – and became a great conversation piece at the Craig’s birthday party.  Uncle Art, keep making wine and don’t forget who your relatives are!


Locavore? Well that’s relative

My Uncle gave me homemade wine from the relatively obscure wine region of Northwestern Ontario. Is that considered a local wine?  He is my Uncle (that’s kinda local),  it was made in Ontario (a two day’s drive from where I live but still in Ontario),  and it does fit in with the 1200 mile diet that I am trying out this week (well today).

My Uncle Art, the original “most Harrowsmith man in the world”, gave me a High Bush Cranberry Wine from Dryden ON – vintage August 2009.  Usually that’s not a good sign on a vintage when they also tell you the month, but for this wine it seemed perfect.

The nose is of sweaty socks – exactly what high bush cranberries smell like – so I guess it’s off to a good start.  The colour is a lovely hue of light rhubarb, and it tastes like those stinky cranberries.  Also, it drinks like a grappa and my Uncle doesn’t tell me what the alcohol content is – so user beware.

Seriously though, I literally ran around my neighbourhood pouring glasses for 3 of my neighbours who I knew would be as excited about it as I was.

Thanks Uncle Art – you’re part Uncle, part winemaker to me. This may be how Tio Pepe got his start.