I describe the red California wine Vista Point Cabernet Sauvignon here, where I also discuss Dionysus, the God of Wine.

Vista Point wineries in southern California also have a white wine. Their Vista Point Pinot Grigio is: "Light, crisp & refreshing with citrus & apple notes & pleasant acidity."

When I had it, I could taste the light and crisp notes, but there was some substance to the wine. Many inexpensive whites tend to have an insipid, watery taste, or an acrid aftertaste. This is actually pretty perfect. I think it is the apple that gives it substance. It tastes like a green apple, perhaps a Granny Smith.

I took my C. S. Lewis Mere Christianity along. I will write a short report in my next post on my reading. Lewis is surprisingly original, and generously optimistic in his book.

I asked the waitress to give me the name of the wine (they just wrote it as "Vista Point White" in the menu). She brought the bottle to show me. Later, while I was busy reading and writing notes, she showed up with a bottle of red wine and another glass. "I wanted to have you taste our new red," she says.

How am I supposed to "taste" another wine while I have one already before me? This is the crassness of our current civilization. First, this waitress showed no respect for me, interrupting me while I was occupied. Second she brings another wine, mostly as a sales gimmick. Third, the level of her voice was so high, that I actually jumped when she spoke. Fourth, she is from another culture (she looks Chinese, although she speaks with a fluent English and with no accent). Her lack of understanding of wine, wine culture, and table etiquette arises from this alien culture of which she is a part. I doubt she is really interested in wine (or the food in the restaurant, for that matter), because they don't relate to her background and how she lives (and plans to live) her life in Canada. Multiculturalism, rather than bring people together, has actually pulled them apart, with each culture living in its own cocoon, and ignoring or even maligning the historical white culture.

I just waived my hand to say no, and for her to leave. I could feel the fury of Dionysus, who I felt was protecting me during this unpleasant interlude. The manager of the restaurant, a Scots/Irish (I asked him if his name was English, and he adamantly told me that it was Scots/Irish), is pleasant to me after I emailed him and the restaurant's head office about these unschooled waitresses. It's not making much of a difference. Now, I simply ask for the Caucasian waitresses, who are calmer and more attentive. I don't think that is simply a matter of training, but of culture as well.