'Boeuf's Beaujolais Blunder

I've mentioned on more than one occasion what a fan I am of Beaujolais. Beaujolais is the red of summertime. It's best served slightly chilled, is light in body, and pairs with a huge array of summertime foods. Cold cuts, cheeses, grilled or roasted chicken, pork -- any of these stand tastily next to a slightly chilled glass of the stuff. As I mentioned last time -- Beaujolais is one of the few wines that will complement pretty much any salad, regardless of what you're throwing in the bowl -- thus, an essential around this household!

As a quick refresher, Beaujolais is a province within Burgundy. These wines are all produced from the Gamay grape and are fermented through a process called carbonic maceration. In this process, grapes are piled into a tall, vertical container pumped full of carbon dioxide and yeast is added. Rather than crushing the grapes and fermenting the resulting juice in the presence of oxygen, most of the sugar is fermented while still in the grape skin. This process creates some unique flavor compounds.

There are three basic quality levels of Beaujolais, in ascending order:

Beaujolais -- These wines are produced from grapes grown anywhere within the Beaujolais region.
Beaujolais-Villages -- These wines are produced from grapes grown in one of thirty-nine villages in the southern part of the region, known to produce consistently high quality wine.
Beaujolais Cru -- There are ten villages known to produce the best wine in the region, and the wines are designated simply by the name of the town.

(Do not confuse these classifications with Beaujolais Nouveau. This wine is very light, and is meant to be drunk almost immediately after bottling. As a marketing ploy, the third Thursday of November is always the release date. To me, Beaujolais Nouveau is the oenological equivalent of Hallmark's "Sweetest Day.")

Come summertime, I usually have several bottles of Beaujolais-Villages and cru lying around. However, when this season began, I went to the French aisle to stock up and got smacked in the face with an unpleasant surprise.

All of the prices went up -- and not by a little...by a lot. Last year, a bottle of DuBoeuf's Beaujolais-Villages could be had for $6-7. This year, it was $11-12, and the 1.5 liter bottle was $20. When I asked about the price hike, I was given some explanation about shipping costs, exchange rates, and so on. I shook my head, since most of the other wines from around the world (including most French wines) have maybe gone up in price by 5-10%, not 100.

My theory? Beaujolais' popularity started to skyrocket over the last few years, and Georges DuBoeuf decided it was time to cash in. DuBoeuf is the leading producer in the Beaujolais world, and the prices of these wines often follow the lead. A few years ago, a bottle of the aforementioned Beaujolais Nouveau was in the $7 range. Now, they're selling for more than some crus, after a huge marketing blitz by GDB.

I looked for other light red alternatives. I discovered a pretty good substitute in the J.Lohr 2006 Wildflower Valdiguié. This wine was marketed as Gamay, until it was discovered that Valdiguié is a slightly different grape. But "slightly different" in this case is of the same degree as the difference between Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana. The flavor of this Monterey County wine is almost indistinguishable from a Beaujolais-Villages, dark in color, fruity in flavor, and with a soft tannic finish. I started keeping this around a fair bit.

Then, an amazing thing happened. Apparently, Adam Smith's invisible hand smacked our French winemaker friend in the side of the noggin. The last four wine stores I've walked into have had DuBoeuf's various brands of Beaujolais on sale, with discounts that bring these wines back into line with what I would expect to pay. So, I finally got around to trying a few for the season:

The DuBeouf 2006 Beaujolais-Villages was marked down from $12 to $8. It's still very much the pleasant wine that I remembered. The nose was soft mint and cherries, and the flavor is one you can throw down without too much thought. A great wine to break out with dinner or just on a warm summer evening.

The DuBeouf 2006 "La Trinquee" Juliénas had an interesting smoky flavor to go with the richer fruit. There were some solid cherry and blackberry scents and tastes. This one would go really nicely with a grilled chicken dish, especially if you were going to have a side that included a salad with tomatoes. A very nice compliment. ("La Trinquée" is "the clinking glass" -- which is also a nice conversation starter.)

Finally, the DuBeouf Domaine de Grand Croix 2006 Brouilly had dropped from $17 down to a much more respectable $13. The nose of this one is very pretty -- cherries and lavender. The flavor is very well-balanced from an acidity standpoint for Beaujolais. The finish is fruitier but a little more tannic than many in this family of wines. If you were doing grilled chops or other pork dishes, I'd probably recommend this one.

Bottom line, while making a profit is obviously the goal of any winemaker -- pushing too far can lead to trouble...although finding good wine on sale is certainly a thrill for this wine drinker!

Also, this wine writer's going to put things on hold for a bit. I'm off on a muchly needed vacation for a few weeks to recharge the batteries. If you need some other ideas for wines or other general information, please poke around the tasting index and see what you can see.

I'll have some stories when I return...believe me...

Stumble It!

The Wine Spectator Scam

Many thanks to the Cockney Rebel for this heads up. As many of you know, I have a sense of uneasiness about Wine Spectator, Robert Parker, and the like because of their "objective scale" of wine ratings. Regardless -- they have a lot of pull in the wine world. They also give "Awards of Excellence" to restaurants that are deemed to have top notch wine lists.

Now, this might be a hoax, but it looks like all you need for one of these awards is $250 and a well written cover letter. I simply pass this along without comment...aside from a chuckle or six...

UPDATE: To be "fair and balanced," Wine Spectator has posted its "side." Yes, whomever the author was went to a lot of trouble to put one over on the WS, but I still consider it a win for creativity...


Stumble It!

Salad Days

Summertime. Fresh vegetables and herbs. All the natural yumminess you’d ever want, there for the taking at your local farmer’s market or in your backyard if you’re lucky enough to be able to keep things a’growing.

I know that I focus a lot on what to eat with grilled food during seasons like this, but I’m just as likely to want something light when it’s blazing hot. I’m perfectly happy with a big ol’ dinner salad most nights, but that doesn’t change the need to indulge my little oenological fixation.

Salads are tough for wines, though. Greens of almost all sorts have at least a hint of bitterness in their flavors. Some, like arugula, can be absolute wine killers that make a decent bottle of chardonnay taste like turpentine. Also, as delicious as fresh vegetables can be, flavors leap off in any number of directions and throw off many flavors in wine. Roasting certain veggies can markedly change food flavors, mushrooms add earthiness, asparagus almost always sets wine on its ear, and so on.

Heck, we haven’t even started talking about different kinds of dressing. Or perhaps you want to add meat to your greens to soothe the carnivorous beast within. How can you set up a pairing for optimal dining pleasure while not either making a boring salad or ruining a perfectly good bottle of wine?

When I think about wine pairings for salads, I follow three simple rules:

1) Go with the acid. Without veering headlong into Timothy Leary Territory, I’ll simply give assurances that powerful hallucinogens and romaine generally do not mix. However, tartaric and malic acids generally work much more effectively. The acidity of tart, crisp wines tends to cut through the bitterness that most greens have, as well as working to effectively dissolve the oils in most dressings, which allows both the flavor of the wine and the other flavors in the salad to make a stronger impression. Almost any crisp wine will work with a salad. And when in doubt, as with any number of other foods, rosé works well. For instance, the Saintsbury 2006 Carneros Vin Gris -- A French-styled rosé from California. It reminded me a great deal of Tavel. The wine has a pleasant nose of strawberries. Body is slightly acidic and quite fruity. Finish has a nice fruit, followed by a crispness that would make it a wonderful pairing with almost any kind of salad you might come up with. $12-14.

2) Pair with the dominant flavor. The idea here is similar to the rule of thumb used when pairing wines with pasta. You wouldn't want to drink a pinot grigio with a heavy tomato and meat sauce, but a big ol' Montepulciano works splendidly. Think about the major flavor in the salad -- or if there's one ingredient that, even if it's just an accent flavor, would be the first thing people taste. For instance, we recently made a tomato salad with lots of Mediterranean flavors: parsley, pistachios, mint, and scallions. While light, the tomatoes and herbs certainly took center stage. After some discussion with a knowledgeable staff person at a local wine store, we came upon the Pierre Boniface Apremont 2006 Vin de Savoie -- This wine from the French Alps is made from a local grape called Jacquère. The nose is cream and apples and the flavor is somewhat acidic and grapefruity. However, much like the wines from the neighboring Loire Valley, you get a some minerality, although not as much as a Muscadet. The body is light and crisp with a slighty flinty finish. A wine like this will cut through strong herbal flavors as well as the acid of things like tomato. $11-13.

3) Spice can be nice, but always think twice. While many think of salads as simply cool and green, adding spice and heat to a salad is becoming more and more common. If you look at the ingredient list for almost any salad in a cooking magazine these days, you're going to run into ingredients in either the dressing or the salad itself that adds peppery, savory flavors to the mix. Thankfully, there are a number of wines that balance those flavors. When it comes to pairing food with spices, Riesling immediately jumps to mind, especially dry Rieslings. The better dry Rieslings are often from Alsace, and one I had recently was The Furst 2006 Riesling – a wine with an interesting twist. The nose is perfumey and appley, much as I expected from a Riesling. Most Alsace Rieslings I've tasted have been bone dry, but this one has a pleasant amount of sweetness, which works wonderfully to balance the flavors you'd find in a salad. Also, the body wasn't as heavy as some Rieslings I've had. If you're doing an Asian-flavored salad, you'd be well-advised to spend $12-14 here.

The other major varietal that pairs with almost any salad is Beaujolais, but I'll hold off on discussing those in depth since they'll be the central theme of the next entry. But if you want a red wine with a salad, that should always, always be your first thought.

So, enjoy that fresh produce straight from garden to plate -- and confidently pour something that stands up proudly alongside.

Another good reason for wine tasting...

On September 11, Party Source in Bellevue, KY will be hosting a wine tasting benefit for the Krystal Pepper Memorial Scholarship fund. Krystal's sister, Michelle Lentz, is better known in these parts as the Wine Girl.

The event runs from 6-8 pm and will focus on red wines up-and-coming French winemakers and wine regions. Tickets are $40 and can be purchased here.

If you get the chance, lift a glass for a good cause!

Tare What?

Hang out with corkheads long enough, and someone will eventually start talking about terroir. Wine's typically not something to be scared of, so what gives?

No, not "terror" -- "terroir!" It's pronounced "tare-WAHR" and is the backbone of any wine. Specifically -- it's where the bloomin' grapes come from.

The term is often used in discussions of the soil in which grapes grow, but I prefer the broader definition. Terroir certainly includes the soil itself, but also encompasses the climate and the topography of the growing region. The most obvious example of the expression of terroir is in the classification of French and Italian wines.

To wit, the terroir of the Bordeaux region produces a certain type of wine. That’s then further divided into the specific area of Bordeaux (Pomerol, Margaux, etc.) and then even further into the various Chateaus – like Lafite-Rothschild, et al. You see this more and more with many American wines as well. You’ll see wines labeled “Central Coast” or “Willamette Valley” – and these wines often get down to listing the individual vineyards from which the grapes are harvested.

So, why does all this matter? What difference does it make where these wines are from – especially wines like the ones we’ve got here – wines that aren’t the tippy top of the scale?

Because where the grapes are grown can tell you as much about what’s in that bottle as the grape varietal itself. If you’ve been reading the Vine for awhile – or even if you’ve just stumbled your way through Wine School, you’ll notice that there are often huge flavor variations among wines made of the same grape. The largest of these flavor differences go hand in hand with geography. For instance, a sauvignon blanc from New Zealand will generally have flavors of tropical fruit, a white Bordeaux often has a lighter, minerally taste, and an American sauvignon might taste more like grapefruit.

Terroir also explains why some regions grow certain grapes. Pinot noir, for instance, needs a very particular type of climate. That’s why so few regions produce the grape. And it’s no accident that New Zealand is about as far south of the equator as Oregon and Burgundy are north.

I bring all this up because knowing a wine’s terroir (and the general flavors of wines from that area) comes in very handy when you’re trying to find a wine either to pair with food or just to have on its own. As a rule of thumb – wines grown in cooler climates tend to be more delicate and have more complex flavors. Warmer climate wines tend to be higher in alcohol and have much more powerful fruit tastes.

One of the complaints you'll often hear about wines in the price range we're most interested in is the "uniformity of flavor" these wines often have. "One tastes like another," you'll hear many people say. Even among similarly priced wines from the same country, you’ll find significant differences. As an example, I tasted three American syrahs -- often considered to be fairly uniform. I looked at three, all between $10-12:

I started with the J. Lohr 2005 South Ridge Syrah. J. Lohr's syrah comes from Paso Robles. Red wines from Paso Robles (about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles, and inland across the Santa Lucia mountains) have some consistent notes across varietals. The Paso Robles Wine website quotes Matt Kramer’s book in stating that almost all their reds (they grow primarily Cabernet, Merlot, Grenache, and Syrah) have soft tannins and rich fruitiness. This is another perfect example of terroir description -- common flavor elements across grape varietals. This syrah falls squarely along those lines. The nose of this wine is big, fruity and smoky. It tastes much like it smells -- with flavors of blueberries, blackberries and leather. The finish is leathery and dry, but the tannins soften considerably as the wine opens. If I hadn't known better initially, I'd thought I'd been handed a cabernet, and this certainly could pass as a cabernet’s first cousin.

From there, we move on to the Rock Rabbit 2004 Central Coast Syrah. Rock Rabbit grows most of its grapes slightly north of J. Lohr in the "Central Coast" region near Monterey. The wines from this region tend to be big and juicy, and this syrah also follows right along. According to the winemaker, this wine is made in "Australian style," and I would concur. The nose is big and plummy -- a fruit bomb to be sure. The flavor is very fruit dominant, although it mellows a bit after a sip or two. Plenty of plums and licorice, and the finish is only slightly dry. It's quite a contrast.

Finally, I went with the Hogue 2005 Syrah. I expected a big difference, and I wasn't disappointed. Hogue is from Washington State, where the weather is considerably cooler than what you'll find in California. As such, the wine is much more balanced and almost delicate. The nose has much more subtle fruit -- raspberry comes to mind, with a smoky undertone. The flavor is "smooth earthy" -- blueberries and caramel. The finish is long and not very dry. A very pleasant wine, and a much more complex one than the other two.

So, have no fear of terroir – let it be your ace in the hole when it comes to picking the “right wine.” Much as in the description of Paso Robles above, you can feel pretty safe in picking out a flavor profile once you get exposed to a certain terroir. Give it a go and see what you find!

"...when you're having more than one."

Let's face facts.

Lots of wine drinking has nothing to do with "wine tasting," especially in summertime. Sure, there are gatherings where people taste a bunch of wine and there are dinners where it's nice to have a good pairing, but this is the season for long nights out on the patio and for gatherings. Backyards. Front porches. Picnics. Reunions.

Somewhere near the cooler of beer, there are usually at least a few bottles of wine about. Now, some believe that "more is better" applies, and the jugs of Gallo get stuck in the ice next to the PBR. While I'm happy to toss back wine sans swirling -- I want to slug something that's not going to make me feel like I've just poured a plastic cupful of battery acid.

So, we're basically looking for some wines that aren't going to be center stage. We're not going for complexity. We're not looking to take flavors apart. We want some wines that will be inexpensive enough that you can load up, but of enough of a quality that no one's giving their glass that "one squinty eyed" frown.

I've found a few that could fill the bill -- so, for your gathering pleasure...

Sundial 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon -- When I bought this bottle, I was told by the person in the wine store, "People who buy it usually come back and get some more." After a glass or two, I understood why. For a bargain-line cabernet, this is a surprisingly big and tannic wine. ($13-14 for a 1.5 liter) An absolute must: make sure you let it breathe for awhile. Once it opens up, you'll get a nice nose full of raspberries and dark fruit. It's got solid body with some uncomplicated fruity flavors, and a decently dry finish. Perfect for any grilling occasion.

Twisted PiG 2006 Pinot Grigio -- I've been seeing a lot of Twisted Head wines on the shelves of various wine stores, and I happened upon their pinot grigio. This wine certainly fits the "uncomplicated" mold. It's very light and has some decent fruit, but it wasn't anything overly exciting -- until we had it with some salty snacks. Pretzels were fantastic, and I'd imagine chex mix would have been, as well. It's about $8 for a 1.5 liter bottle. Easy enough to drink without ill effect or ill flavor.

Borsao "Vina Borgia" 2006 Campo de Borja -- I'm intrigued by a wine that tags itself as the wine of an infamous noble family, but hey -- why not? (It actually refers to the town in Spain, Borja). I've long been a fan of Spanish wine, and I'm glad to see them start to release value-sized bottles of the stuff. In my experience, especially with Spanish reds, even the most inexpensive have been drinkable. This wine is 100% Grenache. It's solid fruit if you try it right after it's opened, but given a few minutes to get its legs under it, it's got a very pleasant fruit scent, enough tannin to be interesting blending with the flavors of berries and cherries, and a slightly dry finish. Another great wine for anything grilled, and really tasty with chocolatey desserts. $11-12.

Le Faux Frog 2005 Pinot Noir -- I admit, this was an impulse buy. I was walking past the box wines and I saw this very cute frog on one of them. Closer inspection revealed that this was actually a Toad Hollow production, so I picked it up. At first pull, very tight and really tart, but after a few minutes, and for subsequent glasses, one of us remarked, "This...is a dangerous wine." The nose is largely cherry, but nothing complex. But definitely a real pinot-ish scent. Flavor, again, after a few minutes to let it open is soft fruit and has a somewhat complex finish of blackberries and coffee. It also lulls you into a false sense of security because it's super easy to drink...so it's probably good that it's only $23-25 for the adorably-frog-adorned 3 liter box.

Sweet Wine

Sweet wine, hay making, sunshine day breaking.
We can wait till tomorrow.
Car speed, road calling, bird freed, leaf falling.
We can bide time.
-Cream

When I talk to new people about wine, I'll usually hear "I don't like dry wines. I like them sweeter," at least once. The gender mix is irrelevant. I've found as many men as women out there who prefer sweet wine -- they just don't generally admit it in public. Chances are, many of these folks got smacked in the face with a big-ass cabernet when they first started drinking wine. (Or at least after they'd moved past Boone's.) Since we tend to return to that we find pleasant, and most folks have at least one positive sweet wine experience, "Sweet is better" often plays pretty well.

I'm not here to dislodge that idea from anyone's mind.

As we've covered before, when yeast is added to wine, the yeast eats sugar, farts carbon dioxide, and pees alcohol. If a winemaker wants to make a wine sweeter, he or she will add something to the wine to stop the fermentation before it's complete, leaving some "residual sugar" in the wine. Many wines leave at least a little residual sugar to improve the taste. Also, a lot of mass-produced wines do so as well, since a little sugar can cover a lot of shoddy winemaking.

I go through phases where I prefer sweeter wine. They aren't long phases, mind you, but I certainly can relate to enjoying that sugar from time to time. I also checked my archives and realized that I hadn't written about Riesling in awhile. Since Riesling is probably the best known "sweet" wine, without further ado, I decided to compare American and German Riesling:

I started with Pacific Rim 2006 Columbia Valley Sweet Riesling -- Pacific Rim is one of the many faces of Bonny Doon winery. Bonny Doon has long been a favorite in Vine land. Their Dry Riesling is one of my standard go-to bottles if I'm having sushi or almost any kind of spicy Asian food. "Sweet Riesling" isn't normally a term you'll see on a wine's label, so when I saw this offered by Pacific Rim, I decided to give it a go. I set this up as a side-by-side with the Selbach 2005 Riesling Kabinett, a German Riesling I know to be sweet and basically at the same price point. (Around $10 for either bottle.)

At first taste, the Pacific Rim is a much more straightforward wine. This is a very low alcohol wine -- only about 9%. The nose is peachy and light. The flavor is very fruity and, as promised, quite sweet. Peaches and pineapples are the dominant flavors. The finish is a little sugary and not as crisp as I generally prefer in a Riesling. Compared to both their Dry Riesling and the Selbach, it's not as good as either.

The Selbach was more interesting. The nose was also very light, but the first taste had a lot more going on. Like many German Rieslings, there was a mineral undertone to the sweetness and fruit, giving a flavor I find appealing. The main flavors centered much more on apple and pear. The finish was crisper, again largely because of the minerality.

We also tried both of these wines with a spicy stir fry that we put together. With the food, the Selbach outperformed the Pacific Rim as well. The minerality cut through the spices much more effectively.

However, one should certainly not turn away from the Pacific Northwest if you're looking for a good choice among Rieslings. Not long ago, I had the chance to try Charles Smith "Kung Fu Girl" 2006 Washington State Riesling. As Charles himself puts it, "WHY? BECAUSE, RIESLING AND GIRLS KICK ASS!" and I wholeheartedly agree on both counts, although the caps are his. Charles brings rock and roll panache to his winemaking, and this particular Riesling brings the house down.

This Riesling is on the sweeter side, but takes off in a number of directions. The minerality of this wine reminds me of an Austrian or German Riesling, but there's more complex fruit as well. Mango, pear, some citrus -- you can find something different with each sip. The finish is slightly sweet and nicely crisp. I first had this at a wine tasting with a number of friends whose palates ranged from "only sweet wines" to "sweet wines really bite." The table was unanimous in praise for this wine. At around $13, it's an absolute steal -- and with a name and bottle design like this one has, it's a perfect wine to bring to a summer party, regardless of the flavor preferences of the gathering.

If you're looking for something sweeter, you're probably better off looking down the German aisle if you're trying to find something in the $8-10 range. For a few dollars more, you'll find some wonderful domestic offerings from places like New York’s Finger Lakes region and the Pacific Northwest -- but, in my experience, the U.S. hasn't gotten the hang of inexpensive, sweet, and high quality just yet.

Another New Wine Resource

One of my online acquaintances, David Pearce, is starting The Weekly Wine Round-Up, a selection of quality wine articles and blogs from around the world. Since I know many of you have interests beyond my inexpensive little corner of the Internets, this may be a resource of interest to you. Hop on over and sign up!

Roundup

A post to take care of some much-needed housekeeping...

First off, The Vine would like to welcome Recoil Magazine to our print outlets out there. Grand Rapids will never be the same. Recoil's online version focuses on news satire (which, these days, largely needs very little help...) and commentary, so check them out.

A couple of friends have started their own online ventures and I'd like to give them a shout.

First off, David Lazarus -- one of the most knowledgeable folks about wine I know and generous host for the Sunday Salon in February -- has started writing about his experiences. His blog, Too Many Good Wines, Not Enough Time -- is running commentary on his own wide-reaching wine experiences.

Also, a recently relocated-to-Cincinnati couple whom I know are starting a pretty ambitious project: Cincy Eats A to Z. Their mission? In their own words: "Eating our way through the Cincinnati metro area, letter by letter." For more details, see their about page. A wonderfully ambitious project.

And, sadly, one of our benefactors has closed its doors. The Durham Flyer has pulled up stakes. Thanks to all the folks there for the opportunity.

The Ballad of Barolo

As I mentioned, more on the birthday celebration...

Just after New Year's 2008, I decided to put the wheels in motion for the Sweet Partner in Crime's 40^th birthday. I thought it might be an interesting idea to get a bottle of wine born two-score years ago and open it during our celebratory shindig.

Trouble is, options get pretty limited when you're trying to procure a wine that old. Ports, brandies, cognacs, and armagnacs are regularly that old -- but none of those are faves of the SPinC, especially not while enjoying dinner on the patio in summertime. There are some French wines that can hold up that long, but they're prohibitively expensive. See what the going rate on a 1968 first-growth Chateau Latour is these days, for instance.

That brought me to Italy, where several types of wine are built for the long haul. The one I really wanted to see what I could do with was Barolo. As I'd mentioned before, I'd tried the Italian "Wine of Kings" before and wasn't all that impressed -- largely because Barolo takes 10-15 years to get into its wheelhouse. Also, since the Sweet Partner's favorite kitchen creation of mine is my somewhat nontraditional eggplant parmesan, it seemed a natural match.

Any wine aged that long is going to be a crapshoot. A buyer is gambling that the bottle has been stored in good, stable conditions and that the cork has managed to hold together in a reasonable fashion. You're also hoping that the natural fermentation hasn't already turned the wine into an expensive bottle of vinegar. Unless a wine's been cared for properly, maybe 1 in 100 bottles will be drinkable.

There are companies out there who specialize in selling "collectable wines." A little research led me to one whose name I won't publicize here (for reasons that will become apparent). In mid-January, I called them to inquire about some of their selections. They had five Barolos from 1968. They put me through to "Troy," their Italian wine specialist. I asked him which one he would get if he wanted one that would drink well. He made a recommendation and I placed my order. He said it would be to me in a couple of weeks.

Three weeks passed. I called Troy again. He said there "had been a dock strike" and the wine shipment was held up in port. He said to call back in a couple of weeks. Three weeks passed again. I called again. Troy told me that the "strike was over," but that my wine wasn't on the shipment, he'd be checking on it, and he'd get it to me for sure. Then came the height of basketball season, and I got distracted for awhile. The beginning of April rolled around, and I called yet again. I was informed that "Troy was no longer with the company" but my order was still pending. I started to get a bit nervous.

Finally, the beginning of May rolled around, and I still hadn't received the wine.I called back one more time and spoke to their new Italian wine guy. He told me that the original Barolo was unavailable, but there were a couple of other potentials he could check on. He said to give him a week. I finally heard from him after ten days, and he gave me the news that there were no Italian 1968's to be found anywhere. He offered me a refund. I took it, swore loudly after hanging up, and then started madly Googling.

Call it fate, divine intervention, or just dumb luck, but I stumbled across WineCommune.com, a sort of eBay for wine -- and discovered a seller with excellent reports and several Barolos from that vintage. After a couple of emails, I placed another order. Four days later, I had a bottle of 1968 Renato Ratti Barolo in my greedy little hands. I smuggled it into the house, put it in the wine fridge, and set the wheels in motion.

After a birthday dinner and wonderful brunch from Julie Francis at Nectar, picking yet more cherries, some absolutely top-notch massages, and some relaxing at home, I was ready for the main event. I put together my parmesan (I grill the eggplant instead of deep frying it. The smoky flavor is perfect, in my opinion.) got it to baking, and relaxed for awhile on the patio with some Pinot Grigio.

Just after taking it out of the oven (it needs to sit for a few minutes before digging in), I made the presentation. At first, I think she thought it was just another bottle of Italian wine -- until she saw the date. "Ecstatically Stunned" would be an apt description. We shared some happy tears, then went inside to open it. The wax seal on the bottle was intact, and the cork looked to be in good shape. However, after the first half inch or so, the rest started to crumble when I extracted it. With the help of a mesh screen and some slow decanting, I was able to salvage almost all of the wine.

The first small pour was enough for us to know that what we had was an actual bottle of wine, not vinegar. The nose was fragrant and unique -- cherries, sort of, but other aromas I couldn't put my finger on. The flavor was actually somewhat thin, which surprised me, knowing how big this wine was supposed to be.

We served up the parmesan and poured a little more of the wine. Even after another 20 minutes, the wine started to change remarkably. The nose, tight at first, began to open up into a broad combination of cherries, spice, and smoke -- mirrored by the flavor continuing to deepen, becoming more tannic, but certainly not overwhelmingly so, and the fruit flavor deepened as well. The most interesting addition was the finish, which lasted for what seemed like ages. To me, it was a sensation of peeling back smoky layer after layer, balanced on top of the tannin. Needless to say, it echoed the flavors in the meal exceptionally well. We ended up eating and drinking much more slowly than we usually do, savoring the changes the wine continued to exhibit.

Finally, we settled into the lounge chairs to enjoy the rest of the wine. We tried it with some dark chocolate with mixed results, but we simply sipped the rest of it over the course of the next couple of hours, relishing the evolving and deepening flavors.

I'll draw the curtain at this point. While every day should be a celebration, I don't think there's anything wrong with going a little over the top. While the bottle certainly wasn't in the neighborhood of $15, I would recommend any wine lover trying something like this once, just for the experience. Just make sure you share it. You'll be glad you did.

Commissioning a Symphony in "C"

Many thanks tonight to Sherri Prentiss of the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra for arranging the conclusion to the Sweet Partner in Crime's birthday celebration. We went to Riverbend this evening to take in "Vintage Classics" -- a wonderful combination of a performance by the Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra and a well-appointed wine tasting.

If you're one of my Cincinnati-area readers and you haven't availed yourself of the music of the Cincinnati Symphony, perhaps thinking it's not your scene, you're missing out. As Sherri put it in her interview with the Cincinnati Enquirer, she's "targeting individual niches."

And as long as she's targeting the wine drinkers -- we should do what we can to encourage her...

(But wait...there's more on the celebration. Stay tuned...)

Cherries Jubilee

When the Sweet Partner in Crime and I consolidated households and moved northward, one of our favorite features of the house we ended up with was a couple of wonderful old cherry trees in our backyard. The blossoms welcome in spring in a beautiful way. We're also able to get some wonderful tart fruit from the trees.

These were some of the best "pie cherries" we've found, and I made a pretty tasty batch of cherry-flavored beer a couple of years ago with part of our pickings. Last year, unfortunately, a late frost followed by a drought killed our entire harvest. We didn't know what we'd see this year.

The trees bounced back in style. We had a bumper crop this year. Our neighbors, Jeff and Christine (from a few earlier episodes), came by for a partial harvest. We've still got more on the tree than we know what to do with. They're going to be out of town later this week, so they won't be here for the SPinC's monumental birthday celebration.

Christine, bless her soul, had the fabulous idea to take the cherries and put together a meal with that tasty fruit in each course. The results were wonderful and, since cherries are coming into season just about everywhere, I thought we might share some of these potential pairings for public consumption.

We started off with an appetizer of goat cheese topped with a "cherry-walnut-bourbon thing" -- which was close enough to chutney for government work. We initially had this with a cherry-vodka cocktail that Jeff whipped up, but if you wanted wine, I'd probably put this up against something relatively light, a little sweet, and bubbly. The Lazurro Moscato d'Asti ($8-9) would be a possibility. It's quite a sweet wine, reminding me actually a little bit of a sparkling grape juices, except not as carbonated and with a kick. The sweetness and a slight acidity would cut through both the cheese and the chutney nicely.

Our next course was a salad made from our neighbor's "yeah, you betcha" garden with tomatoes, cucumbers, and a cherry vinaigrette dressing. We had this with Lindeman's 2007 Bin 99 Pinot Noir. ($9-10) Ordinarily, I haven't been a big fan of Australian pinots. I think they tend to be a little bit heavy for this type of wine -- but this one worked pretty well. I think that we needed something relatively fruity and non-tannic without being overwhelming, and this worked. I think even inexpensive pinot will work if you need something relatively food friendly and flexible. Just don't expect the wine of a lifetime.

The main course was grilled pork tenderloin with a cherry sauce and asparagus. We had this with another pinot noir -- this time one that was safely out of Vine Range -- Amphora 2006 Pinot Noir. Amphora is one of our favorite wineries from Sonoma -- but they're known more for big cabernets and zinfandels than pinot. This one was more lush than many pinots, but had a delightful smokiness to it that worked well with the grilled flavors.

For dessert, of course, cherry pie. Pie-making is one of Christine's considerable talents and her cherry pies are unmatched. We had this with Oak Grove 2005 Reserve Zinfandel. ($7-8) You'd definitely want a relatively fruity wine to go with a pie like this. The Zinfandel worked reasonably well -- this wine is certainly that. By this point in the evening, it also held up as we continued to drink on it through the evening. If I'd had it to do over, I'd probably have gone with a dessert wine made from Zinfandel -- a late-harvest Zinfandel of some kind. Rosenblum Cellars does a late harvest called "Rosie Rabbitt" that you can often find for right around $15. The sweetness would have worked quite nicely with the pies.

All in all, a delightful evening in excellent company, and an exceedingly proper way to kick off the Sweet Partner's week of birthday celebration. More on that as it unfolds, of course...

Wine for Makin' Whoopee...

"When are you going to write about wine and sex?"

I got this question from my friend R.D. a couple of months ago, and I've been at a bit of a loss. However, considering spring has finally sprung and this is the Vine's 69^th entry, it seems fitting.

Disclaimer: The information following should, in no way, be considered a guarantee of sexual satisfaction. However, if any readers, male or female, get lucky as a result of the advice contained herein, I expect thanks. Only readers healthy enough for sexual activity should continue reading from this point. The following is not an endorsement of random, drunken hookups -- you're better off with bourbon or tequila in that event, anyway. Do not operate a motor vehicle immediately after reading this column, drinking a bottle of any of these wines, or after having sex. Your partner will think you're rude.

Where to begin? Wine and sex have a long, long history. My patron deity, Bacchus, was devoted to wine and pleasure. Omar Khayyam wrote the Rubaiyat as an ode to love, life, wine, and his beloved. More than any other libation, wine is historically associated with romance, with sensuality, and good ol' gettin' it on. Wine is a delicious tone-setter and completer of ambience. If you're trying to create a conducive atmosphere, adding wine can only help.

Sex and wine are very personal. Every person has a different experience each time and everyone likes certain flavors better than others. And when you share with someone who has similar passions and tastes...well...the possibilities are practically limitless. For the sake of time, space, and the desire to actually try these out...I'll just forward a couple of potentials for potential coupling...

The Picnic -- A park, a secluded shade tree, a blanket, some food, and -- of course -- a bottle of wine. This setting calls for a selection that both brings happiness and goes well with whatever you've stashed in the basket for the prelude. You're going to want to go with something relatively simple to set up and easy to eat. Perhaps a Mediterranean board of some kind -- olives, pita chips, hummus, feta...you get the idea. Alongside, I might recommend a sparkling wine. Bubbles are always arousing. I recently tried the Zardetto Prosecco Brut ($12-15) with some similar selections. This Prosecco is fairly dry and has a pleasant, slightly yeasty character. The finish was a little fruity, quite crisp, and complimented the foods very well. You'll have to supply the witty conversation thereafter on your own.

The Dinner -- Whether you're dining out or putting something together in the kitchen, you're going to want a wine sultry enough to amplify the mood, yet flexible enough to go with whatever you're ordering or plating up. One wine quickly steps to the fore. Pinot noir. You can't go wrong with decent pinot, whether it's a traditional Burgundy or an offering from California or the Pacific Northwest. The Concannon 2005 Limited Release Pinot Noir ($13-15) from California's central coast was a delicious wine. Cherries and berries on the nose, followed by a fruity, smoky body and a finish of vanilla and smoke. It would be a very flexible food wine -- especially if you were thinking something roasted -- whether it's duck, pork, or vegetables.

The Dessert -- Dinner's over and you're lingering. The meal and conversation have gone well, signs are pointing to "yes," and you've got something in front of you that's some version of chocolate. If there's no chocolate, stop. Back up. You've chosen incorrectly. You MUST have chocolate at this stage. Its powers as an aphrodisiac are unmatched. Port pairs particularly well with chocolate, especially dark chocolate. Sandeman's Founder's Reserve Porto ($9-11 for a 375 ml bottle) slides in easily next to such a dessert. Don't waste your time with little port glasses. Be decadent. Pour it into larger wine glasses so you can swirl and enjoy the lush fruity aromas. The nose is strong with deep dark berry and grape scents. The body is rich and full, and the sweetness balances the delicious bitterness of dark chocolate for a sensually intertwined finish.

Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go find the Sweet Partner in Crime...and some dark chocolate...

Support the arts in Dayton!

My "print persona" has run for the longest continuously in the Dayton City Paper, so I'd like to ask my readers in Mad River Country (and anyone else!) to consider making a small donation that might end up netting you some tasty vino.

Dayton's Human Race Theatre Company is currently having a wine-related fundraiser. Tickets are $20 apiece and 6 for $100. The winner of the raffle, drawn at the final performance of HRTC's new show, Five Course Love, will receive 30 bottles of wine selected by Arrow Wine, arguably Dayton's best wine store. The street value of this ready-made cellar is right around a grand, apparently -- so it's potentially a heck of a return.

Tickets can be purchased at Arrow Wine or by calling the HRTC at 937-461-3823.

Green Eggs and...Wine?

(Vine reader Jason M. suggested that I write a column about Vinho Verde, the inexpensive Portuguese "green wine." What follows is...well, I'm not quite sure -- but I know apologies to Dr. Seuss are in order.)

Wine is green.
Wine is green?
Green is wine.

Do you like
that wine that's green?

That wine that's green,
That wine that's green,
I do not like
That wine that's green.

"VEEN-ho VAYR-day"
Is its name.
Can I in'trest
You in same?

Why would I like
That wine that's green?
It sounds bizarre
I'll pass, I'll seem.

But it's bubbly and it's light
Citrus flavors taste so bright
Comes to us from 'cross the sea
Portugal, its home you see?
Summer there is extra-hot:
Temperatures of One-Aught-Aught

So they make a wine to quaff
As at the heat they try to scoff
Tastes like grapefruit juice or Fresca
Less the sweetness, yeah you betcha.

But how will I know
which one to buy?
I get confused
When on the fly.

What you get? It doesn't matter
Gazela, Broadbent, names can scatter.
They'll all taste about the same:
Light, refreshing, tart, and tame.

But why's it green?
I'm glad you asked.
Green means it's young
So you'll be tasked
With drinking it one year within
The time of green wine's bottlin'

Well, let me try it.
Here you go
No need to worry 'bout sippin' slow,
Since alcohol is very low.

A tasty, tasty sippy drink
And honestly I say, I think:

The wine that's green
The wine that's green
I do like the wine that's green!

Now about those eggs...