Local Vinophiles Drunk on Bacon
Two years ago, when Alberto Giovanni escorted the recently laid off Helena Batista off the premises of the century-old, family-run Giovanni’s Winery, he gave little thought to the Haitian immigrant’s threats. “She was always cursing something,” said Alberto. “As a Christmas present, Helena would offer to damn your enemies to hell, but I don’t know of anyone who ever took her up on it.”
Shortly afterward, customers noticed a smoky, bacon taste to the 2008 pinot noir. “While our traditional patrons were repulsed by this new flavor,” explained Alberto, “other, more obese, customers were enchanted by the thin white layer of pork fat that formed on the surface of the wine by the end of the meal. And they were thrilled to be inebriated by bacon. We quickly sold out of the product.” However, the following season, these new customers were disappointed when the wine again tasted like wine.
Something was obviously missing. The vintners tried adding bacon fat, but the wine soon became rancid. They sponsored “guess the missing ingredient” contests at wine tastings. But the winning concoctions all tasted as vile as bacon-flavored wine sounds.
The Giovanni’s pinot noir appeared to be a one-hit wonder. “Now I know how Lipps, Inc. felt when their second single wasn’t as popular as ‘Funky Town,'” said Alberto. “Then I remembered Helena.” The Haitian priestess’s curse apparently came with an expiration date.
Unable to locate their former employee, the Giovannis printed her picture on each bottle of wine, like a missing-child milk carton. “If you see this voodoo priestess, don’t approach her,” warns the label. “If you find that any part of your body has shrunk, please wrap three red flowers in a green piece of fabric, tie them to a tree, and contact your physician.”
If Helena is found, and is kind enough to re-curse the vintner, the Giovannis plan to market their pig-flavored elixer under the brand name “S’wine.”