Chicago, Jill Woodgrove
On- Line at Customs
With my 1982 Rioja Gran Reserva in hand, I thought: why did I do this anyway? My heart is racing, I’m sweating, I’m shaking, my palms are wet. This is insane. Should I take it out of my suitcase?
What will be worse, this customs official seeing the towels I took from that sweet B & B in Briñas overlooking the Ebro or them confiscating my artisanal chorizo, Cinco Jotas jamon and serving it up at their backyard barbeque next Sunday?
Why did I do this? It’s not illegal like in Uncle Tom’s day. I can buy ham and chorizo online at Latienda.com Was this about saving the shipping and handling or simply the thrill of risk? Risks? To be fined and embarrassed?
This guy looks nasty I’ll go to the other line. Dang, I hope I wrapped it up enough. Paco from the store in Briones did give me 30 pieces of aluminum foil. What an aromatherapy session for my dirty laundry. That’s precisely what Uncle Tom said: always wrap it in your dirty laundry.
This is the dumbest thing I ever did…”Passport please, ah, Jill Woodgrove, Where were you traveling?”
“Spain sir.” Purchase anything? Just some souvenirs. “Business or pleasure” “Business Sir” He quickly spurted, “What kind of business?” “I am a wine importer. Sounds fun Do you have wine with you? No sir, I get all the samples I need in the states duty-free.
“Lucky you.”
Do they have good wine? Yes, world-class wines. I’ll have to try them, maybe I’ll even ask for a bottle for Christmas. Well, there are great Rioja wines from $15.00 a bottle to over $100.00 a bottle. “Then what should I ask for young lady?“ ,he asked. “Well if you were good ask for a Rioja Reserva and make it a 2015”, I replied.
I lied. On the form, to his face, I lied. But I made it through just like Uncle Tom did too many times but was the stress worth it?
Back in my abode on Clark Street ,I spent the month serving my partner Sue jamon from my pata and grilling up my chorizo. I even made warm Patatas a la Riojana on some cold March nights and cuddled up by the fire with my easy Friday night crianza. As I sat in my kitchen my mind wandered off to that amazing butchers shop in the Plaza Mayor of Haro, the sights and smells I felt just as euphoric as pre-phylloxera Haro, in 1888. I concluded, oh yeah it was worth it
