Blog

By Laura Jackson Roberts

For a blogger, there’s really no finer assignment than a wine tasting, a confluence of culture and camaraderie, flavor and food. It’s a celebration of senses, a sip of sultry, a demure evening with music and civility.

I know you’re not buying this. I really just went there for the wine.

On Friday September 18, Oglebay Institute held “The Art of Wine” on the porch at the Stifel Fine Arts Center. As the OI blogger, it was my required duty to document this event. I left my husband with the kids and invited my father because he loves a fine grape, and I needed a night off.

6:30pm. Roger Hoard provides the music for the evening. The gathering is small and cozy, and as soon as we find our table, our wine arrives. “But I thought this was a wine tasting,” I say, as the volunteer fills my glass. She chuckles and tells me to really take my time and savor this Dreaming Tree No.7 Pinot Grigio. So I do as I’m told—it’d be impossible not to enjoy this wine on a warm evening. I talk to an acquaintance who regularly attends these OI events. “It’s nice,” she says. “It’s a date night for us. I relish not having to cook.”

The ladies sitting next to us have been here before too. They echo the sentiment about having a night out. I see some couples and several small groups of friends and families.

6:55pm. Ye Olde Alpha provides the hors d’oeuvres. I pile an embarrassing portion of butternut squash risotto onto my plate and plop a roasted Thai Chile chicken leg on top of it. I toss on a few shrimp and a blob of Sriracha mayo for garnish. At the table, I’m introduced to a generous glass of Crucero Chardonnay. It’s very dry and tasty.

6:56pm. I plow through the entire plate of hors d’oeuvres before I notice the card on the table telling me which food should be paired with each wine. Oh no—I’ve scarfed everything. I’ll just have to go back for more and do it correctly. Rookie mistake. Piling my plate again, I note that the risotto goes with the Chardonnay. Once I slow down, I can taste the distinct flavors.

I talk with Rick Morgan, Stifel Fine Arts Center director. He tells me how much he enjoys these gatherings. In the past, the entertainment has been provided by a watercolor artist, and a comedian, though tonight’s background music complements the mellow atmosphere perfectly. He suggests I attend the upcoming beer tasting-improv night (Art & Ale with Comedy, October 16), and implies that the combination will encourage anyone who wants to try something new. Later in October, the Stifel Fine Arts Center will host Tapas Tasting Featuring Chef Tom McCardle (10/23).

As I return to my seat, I see all of tonight’s wines are available for purchase. If we like it, we can bring it home. I work my way through the rest of my Chardonnay.

7:26pm. Time to taste the reds. The volunteer tells me the Joel Gott Red Blend is a “sipping wine.” I sip slowly and nibble the pork belly polenta with roasted red peppers. Nibble and sip. My dad implies that I’m a cheap date.

Time, undetermined. The second red is a Siegel Reserve Cabernet from Chile. This wine is my favorite; I love Chilean reds. It’s dry and robust, and it’s paired with a grilled sirloin with goat cheese and guasacaca. When the dessert wine arrives—a Belle Bolle Peach Moscato—I ask for just a splash. I don’t usually care for sweet wines, but this is a truly lovely finish. I’ve made it.

There’s an order form on the table, and all of the wine selections are reasonably priced, for those who like what they’ve tasted. I certainly do. I live nearby, and as I walk home, I review my notes in the street light. I see the phrases, “Keep on sipping,” and “Why am I holding two forks?”

Clearly, I’m a shoo-in for the beer-comedy event.

For a calendar of events like the wine and beer tastings, please visit www.oionline.com.

By Laura Jackson Roberts

Andy and Ben laugh at the back of the line, poking each other. The giggles aren’t so much joyful and pure as they are distinctly ornery. Andy sticks a wet finger into his little brother’s ear; Ben squeals and shoves Andy as far as his short arms will allow. The line of boys ahead of them sways like a lizard as the rest of the group notices my children play-fighting. A chorus of burgeoning testosterone rises to bounce off the mirrored wall and high ceilings.

“Boys!” a voice calls. “Let’s focus! Andy and Ben: Show me your cartwheels!”

My children snap to attention and stand still. Unprecedented!

The voice belongs to Kimberlee Kafana, who is known as “Miss Kim” at Oglebay Institute’s School of Dance, and she’s teaching Boys Only Tumble, Stretch and Flex. It’s Friday afternoon, and she, along with her helpers, are here to take on a gaggle of whirling Tazmanian Devils that look an awful lot like elementary school boys. These kids love Miss Kim, and they love to tumble, and what’s more, they’re getting good at it.

Miss Kim has been teaching boys-only classes for many years. And while the co-ed and female classes she instructs enjoy the same physical and emotional benefits, she stresses that “boys will be boys, and we need to let them be boys.” In her class, it’s okay to grunt, and beat your chest, and throw yourself as hard as you can onto the mat. Doing so beyond the watchful eyes of girls sets the boys free, Kim says. “When girls are in the class, [the boys] lose a lot more confidence in themselves than people realize. It’s an impressionable age, so it’s important to let them have that separation.”

I’m in agreement. When nine-year-old Andy finds himself amidst a group of young ladies, the urge to bug them takes over, and he picks and pokes and smirks. Ben, who is five, regularly launches into a booty dance, as though he wrote the book on flirting. But sans ladies, my guys easily focus on the benefits of tumbling.

And they are many. Tumbling, Kim explains, helps them developmentally. They’re not just playing around; they’re building self-confidence, becoming better students, and learning to focus on their own skills. “There are natural-born athletes, where things just come so easy. Then there are children who might be a little weaker, or less flexible. They can find success and in that journey they are the ones who control their progress and their challenges and what the outcome is going to be.” She goes on to say that she and her assistants will tailor each child’s experience to his particular physical needs. “By the time you’re done and you’ve given him the tools to succeed, he might be the most flexible. The end result is fitness for a lifetime. They are the people who control their destiny.”

Hard work. Self-discipline. They have to earn their own skills in Kim’s class, just as they do in life, whether they are natural athletes or not. She tells me she’s here to motivate and inspire them. And she does.

I wait downstairs for class to finish, listening to the thunder of feet as each child presents a skill to his peers. Kim calls, “Way to go, Andy!” and the boys clap for him as he nails a round-off. I sneak up the stairs to watch my second-born, who has never really gotten the hang of his cartwheel. He runs down the mat, flops over onto his side, and stands up, beaming.
The older boys put their arms around my little guy and ruffle his hair. “Nice cartwheel, Ben,” they say. At home, Ben will wear out my furniture showing me his tumbling skills. When I ask him where he learned to be such a great cart-wheeler, he’ll look up from the mangled couch cushions and tell me, “From Miss Kim. She says I’m totally awesome!”

Boys Only Tumble, Stretch and Flex is offered for boys K-5 at Oglebay Institute’s School of Dance on Fridays from 4-5pm.