We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
I live in a civilized household, and I travel with a Swiss Army Knife. When I'm flying somewhere, the Swiss Army Knife goes in my checked baggage.
Should TSA steal it, which is quite possible, I go to plan B, which is to call the Concierge and ask him to send me up a corkscrew.
Lord Above! The thought of taking a decent vintage wine and shaking the sediments up that way is frightening. Only a barbarian would even consider it. Anything that deserves to be opened that way already comes with a screw cap.
All us folks down here in LA (That'd be Lower Arkansas) know that much. You Yankees scare me sometimes!
Best sedimentary wine I had was some home-made stuff at some nameless Italian man's house ... an invite that dimly lives in the recesses of my mind. Stage set: 22 years old. Navy, 1975, Italy, where? beats me. Out with a group including the civilian tech reps. One of the guys says hey! want to have a REAL Italian dinner. So we all chip in and go to some dudes house. It gets real hazy here. There was only 8 or nine courses each accompanied by appropriate libation. But what sticks the the sloshed cells of my mind was the dessert wine, some very dark liquid that I swear still had the peels of the grapes in it.
My father later alluded to Grappa... but that drink was anything but clear. I think it was more port than anything.... but if one of y'all could put a name to it (besides big head, pounding head, freeking exploding head) I'd be interested in knowing... even after all these years.
I wouldn't try this against modern American drywall walls. No, I wouldn't do that.
Take it outside. Try it against a bit of foundation of stout wall with a nice, cheap wine.
Or go with Jefferson101 and be civilized and never caught without a corkscrew or a means to have someone bring you one. Even cheap giveaway swiss army knockoff knives have serviceable corkscrews these days (don't axe how I know).
In fact, you'd need a pretty good wine for the bottle to use a corque that will not fracture when you try to pry it out like that...
Most cheaper wines have dry, brittle, corques that can hardly be removed at all without breaking, let alone using unconventional methods like this.
Or of course they have tight fitting plastic plugs or screwcaps that won't need a corkscrew at all :)
In my chequered past, I recall seeing a great big tough Marine open a corked bottle by striking the bottom of the bottle with his iron fist. Very impressive, and I recall that it certainly impressed me... and he wanted to impress me.
HRT from Down Under
This works fine on a picnic table or a stump. However...
If you find yourself in such dire straits, it is probably kinder to take the nearest pen / stick / screwdriver and firmly push the cork into the bottle. The last inch or so is tough since it is compressing the tiny bit of air in the bottle into an even tinier space, but there's less risk of busting the bottle.
I thought New Englanders ran this blog. How come nobody mentions the always trustworthy, and at least in winter, available ski pole. As college students in the '60s we often were without advanced vintner technology. Therefore, we often took advantage of the fact that the diameter of the ski pole was slightly smaller than the diameter of the cork in a wine bottle. With a little downward force it was easy to push the cork into the bottle. After that, what's a few pieces of cork among friends?
Chateuneuf du Pape is the official wine of the First Infantry Division (Big Red One). That is all one needs to know.
I have been researching this fact but have come up empty.
I first heard this on a military staff ride with the command group of the 6th Field Artillery Battalion in 2002.
The commander told us the story about how this came to be, but he failed to mention which one of the many names is the actual Chateauneuf du Pape. Can you shed any light on this?
(like Chateau de Beaucastel, or la Fiole du Pape....etc)