Getting Laggered in the Golan

For years the excuse of my husband for drinking non-hechshered wine has been “the kosher stuff is rubbish.  Can’t compare”.  Well now he no longer has an excuse.  Wine in Israel has come a long way over the last couple of decades, and it’s now possible to be a wine connoisseur and be part of the conventionally frum massive 🙂

Before I met my husband, I wasn’t much of a wine drinker.  Possibly because I had never tasted the good stuff.  I drank fridge cold kiddush wine [the fridge is the only place for that stuff, it’s like fruit juice], whiskey on bad days, and malibu and coke on a night out.  Now, I cant sort of tell the difference between a good one and a dodgy one.  I was therefore very pleased to find myself up in the wine region of the Golan, visiting a lovely modern winery.  If you have never visited one of these places in the holy land, I recommend it.  When I booked the tour, however, the lady on the phone was somewhat concerned that Jojo, now age 22 months, wouldn’t be sufficiently entertained.  “There’s lot of standing around listening to talks” she informed me.  I can’t really blame her, the average Israeli kid is not interested in wine and can’t sit still for 5 minutes (such is the age of technology and constant stimulation we live in, according to this morning’s International Herald Tribune).

But Jojo aint the average Israeli kid.  I happen to know he has a genuine interest in wine.  I have learned this from his reaction to kiddush wine, no matter whats int he glass.

“Don’t worry” I told her. ” I will bring raisins.”

Sure enough, Jojo really enjoyed the tour, as it seems it’s one of those Serious Adult Places thats secretly for indulging the child in us all, or really just for children.  Lots of fun little forklifts to watch whizzing round the barrel room,  busy ooompa lumpas in the bottling room, and of course the “wine! wine!” at the really fun bit – the tasting part.  Thankfully, nobody seemed the slightest bit concerned that Jojo was happily watching the wine-serving demo at the end of the tour, nor that he was chanting “wine! taste!” after every pour, or that he seemed to enjoy all of it.  Yes, all of it.  Even the dry red.

Which was good really, as in London they would have called social services.  Despite the English being far hardened drinkers than Israelis, from what I can see.

Yaron peacefully slept through the whole experience in his sling.  I draw the line at giving alcohol to newborns, unless it’s their brit. As a nursing mother, I had to donate part of my wine samplings to my mother-in-law, who was only too happy to help out.

Jojo is now rather sad to see his grandma has gone, and still walks round the house chanting “Grunma? Grunma?” clutching his stuffed Gruffalo, which is a little nebuch.  I suppose I am so used to my family being scattered to the winds that I never realised it would be hard for him to adjust to people coming and going.  He now realises the difference between “Bye bye” and “Bye Bye” with suitcases.  Luckily we live in a really beautiful place, with stunning views and great nargila weather most of the year, so people can say they are visiting us, when they really just want a holiday.  Now we have an impressive wine collection, we can lure even more people up here.