The Naked Vine tries Naked Tchopstix

Some restaurant experiences are wonderful. Some are awful. Some simply need to be documented.

Sushi is one of our indulgences. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I cook a lot, as followers of the Vine know, but sushi is an exception. Finding sashimi-grade fish and other ingredients, the prep, the ritual – it’s just better left to the experts. We were lucky to have one of the Cincinnati area’s best sushi restaurants, Aoi, within a short walk from our front door at Newport on the Levee. Aoi was a modern, classy establishment with excellent service, a quiet atmosphere and some of the freshest, best prepared sushi I’ve had anywhere. We were so disappointed when it closed.

Fast forward a few months. We read that a new Asian restaurant called “Naked Tchopstix” was opening in the old Aoi space. Naked Tchopstix is a small Indianapolis-based “sushi, pan-Asian food, and bar” chain, and the Newport location is their first outside of Indiana. The SPinC and I had a mutual sushi crave, so we decided to take an evening stroll to check it out.

Naked Tchopstix is a big place. They annexed a small art gallery next door and converted the space into additional bar/club space. A sign in front announced the evening’s featured appetizer as Hawaiian pizza. My eyebrow arched. We went inside. The place had been somewhat redone. The Japanese style partitions had been replaced by a more open, traditional dining room, part of which was set up for tatami – which were all in the middle of a room rather in more traditional private nooks. New place, new design – we could go with it.

Aoi set a very high standard, so I tried to keep an open mind. However, after being greeted by a young woman in a Sinful t-shirt whose perfume smelled like overripe apples, I began to worry a bit. She led us to our table, dropped off our menus and a drink list, and told us that our server would be there soon.

The menu is overwhelming. Imagine porting the Cheesecake Factory dining concept to Asian food. The menu was 10-12 pages long. Sushi (nigiri and about three dozen types of rolls), sashimi, Korean dishes, various Chinese stir-fries, noodles of various preparations, almost 30 appetizers (including frites?) and salads, and on and on. At the end, they had a list of “suggestions for the undecided” – which consisted of “rolls without raw fish” and similar things.  

As our eyes began to glaze over, we were approached by our server, who introduced himself, asked if we’d like something to drink “and the specials tonight are $2 Buds and Bud Lights and $3 Kentucky Bourbon Ales.” We asked for a couple of waters and I ordered a bottle of (nicely priced) Albariño. Our server said, “Is that all?” Erm…ok. I said yes and he departed, we assume to figure out what the heck “a bottle of “all beer eenyo” was.

Several minutes passed with no sign of our server. The SPinC suggested that I go check out the fish on the sushi bar. I looked it over – the fish looked good – and the sushi chef, who looked to be a recent college grad, asked if he could help me. I told him I was just checking out the fish. He said, “Yeah. We’ve got some really good stuff here.” I told him I was looking forward to it, but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he had just stopped short of calling me “brah.”

I returned to the table. Our drinks hadn’t shown up yet. At this point, a man who had been standing across the room pointedly watching our table, comes sauntering over. He looked like a thin version of Quarles from “Justified.” He asked in a raspy smoker’s voice if we’d been helped. I told him we’d placed our drink orders. He said, “Oh, OK” and walked off without another word. A bit creepy.

Finally, our server returns with a couple of waters. He puts them on the table and says, “And I’ll be right back with your wine.” Whew. At least we got the drink order cleared up. He returned with the bottle in a chiller. He struggled mightily with the screwtop for a minute before opening the bottle, turning to me, and saying – I shit you not – “Say when!” He poured some, I said when, and before I could reach for my glass, he started filling the other.

As I was checking the wine (which was fine), he then started telling a wonderfully ironic story about watching another server who “had never done a wine presentation” trying to open a screwtop bottle with a wine opener. He chuckled to himself about how dumb the guy looked. I tried desperately not to shoot wine from my nose.

He asked if we were ready to order. We decided to stick to our plan – sushi. We ordered the two-person minimum chef’s choice “Slow Boat to Tokyo” option. We said that we were pretty adventurous, so they could be creative. We just didn’t want any tempura. He told us that it would be about 25 minutes or more because they’d have to “work around the tempura.” We asked if it came with soups or salad or anything. He said that it didn’t, but added “That’s a lot of money, so I think I can find you some soup.” He returned a few minutes later with some miso soup which tasted OK.

We finished our soups as we waited for the sushi. After several minutes with our empty bowls in over on the edge of the table, Quarles returned and rasped, “I’ll take these for you.” We shuddered a bit.

The sushi boat eventually landed. When I order “Chef’s Choice,” I’m hoping for a little fun and a little flair from the chef. What arrived was a fairly standard array of nigiri and sashimi (tuna, white tuna, smoked salmon, salmon, yellowtail, snapper, octopus, eel) and two rolls – a “corona roll” and a “volcano roll.” I could have cobbled this array together a la carte more cheaply, I think. I asked the server what we had in front of us and he paused for a moment. He started pointing at the fish. “This is salmon…this is tuna…” and the SPinC stopped him, asking about the rolls. “That’s a corona roll and that’s a volcano roll.” I asked what those were. His face went blank.

He took a deep breath and launched into a story about how there’s a lot of things to learn on the menu. “And when the high rollers come in, they have these special kinds of tuna and shrimp that they only get in four or five times a month for them, and they have a whole other special menu we have to learn. You know, for the high rollers, like city councilmen and stuff.” I asked him again what the rolls were and he said, “Wow, you’re really testing me.” He came back with descriptions of what the rolls were and departed.

So…Sushi time! We dug in. And looked at each other with “hmmmm….” expressions. The sushi wasn’t *bad,* mind you. It looked really good, but with the exception of the yellowtail and white tuna, tasted completely unremarkable. The textures weren’t great, the flavors were OK. It was a step above what’s available in the fridge case at Kroger, but it was a huge step down from what had been such a wonderful dining experience for us for several years. When we’re going to drop sushi-type money on an indulgent meal, we’re hoping to be wowed. My overall thought was exactly what I told the sushi chef when he came over at the end of the meal and asked how everything was, “Eh…it’s alright.”

Naked Tchopstix isn’t gunning for the sushi-loving dining crowd. Their target audience is families, large parties of folks who want a mid-priced dining experience with lots of options, or twentysomething bros and chicks who want to feel adventurous before heading to the clubs.

Maybe I can convince Mayor Peluso or one of the other local “high rollers” to invite us to join them dinner there sometime. Otherwise, we likely won’t be coming back. If you’re a foodie searching for sushi, save your money for cab fare to one of the area’s other options.

A Quick Spanish Interlude

When I'm in a hurry to get home, I occasionally come to the realization that -- horror of horrors -- we're out of general dinner drinking wine. Yes, yes -- hard to believe, I know. That leaves me with two options. Either I can traipse down to the cellar and snag a bottle from our "occasion" wine stash, or I can duck into the wine store on the way home. The latter is usually the path of least resistance.

At such times, sometimes I don't have a wine type in mind other than general color. Something middle-of-the-road that doesn't get overwhelmed by whatever food's going to be on the table -- yet flexible enough if we end up calling a gustatory audible. There's also that "if it's not a special pairing, I don't want to spend a ton" aspect. When in doubt, I head down the Spanish aisle.

As I've mentioned a few times before, Spanish wine is some of the best inexpensive wine on the planet if you're looking for an easy food pairing. Spain gave us tapas, after all. If you're having wine with tapas, it's got to handle any number of spice, meat, and vegetable combos. Much Spanish wine that you'll find is going to be consistently decent.

Unfortunately, one major inconsistency in Spanish wine is in classification. While typically Spanish wine is named for the region, occasionally it's listed by grape, by bodega (think "chateau"), by winemaker, or just by pretty colored labels. Spanish labels often include a fairly long word salad in Español that I can't make much sense of which describes the quality classification. Let's simplify, shall we? Here's a quick glossary:

Color: Tinto, Blanco, and Rosado are "red," "white," and "rosé" respectively. Of course, you can probably tell this by actually looking at the wine itself. (Before I knew this, though -- I thought "tinto" was a grape.)

Region: There are more than 50 wine regions in Spain. In the States, however, there are a few you'll run into more than others. Rioja, Rias Biaxas, Ribera del Duero, Navarra, and Rueda are in the northern section of Spain. You may also see a few from Priorat or Penedes -- the latter of which is the source of most cava -- Spanish sparkling wine. In the south are Jumilla and Alicante. In the southwest is Jerez, the home of sherry. Most regions produce both red and white wines. The regional differences (outside of sherry and cava, of course) aren't as broad as in Italy or France, so you usually don't need to worry so much about this.

Age: Spanish wines historically were aged for quite some time. This is not always the case, but the naming conventions remain. Crianza means that a red wine has been aged for 2 years with at least 6 months of it in oak; whites and rosés -- 1 year with 6 months in oak. Reserva reds are aged for at least 3 years with at least a year in oak; whites are 2 years/6 months in oak. Gran Reserva reds are aged 5 years with 18 months in oak; whites are 4 years/6 months in oak. Wines with those designations tend to be a little pricier. If you don't see any of those designations, that means that there's probably been little or no barrel aging, and the wine is made to drink young.

Grapes: Spanish wines are made from hundreds of indigenous varietals, but there are a few used more widely. The bulk of red wines are made from either Tempranillo, Garnacha (Grenache), and Monastrell (Mourvedre). Whites are made from Albarino, Garnacha Blanca, Verdejo, or Viura. Among the "everyday" Spanish wines, the reds tend to be medium-bodied with solid acidity, not overly tannic, and at least somewhat earthy. Whites tend to be fragrant and acidic as well (although Albarino tastes like honey), with citrus and melon flavors. For comparison -- the reds are somewhere between pinot noir and zinfandel. The whites are often similar to sauvignon blanc.

Spanish wine really started penetrating the American market over the last decade, and you can find any number of very good $10-20 bottles without trying too hard. Here are a few bottles that we've cracked in recent memory:

Vinos de Terrunos 2006 Esencia de Monte -- This is a big, fruity Spanish red, made from 100% Monastrell. Lots of blueberries and wood shavings on the nose (bigger nose for a Spanish wine), even though there's no oak used in the production of the wine in any way. Also entirely organically farmed. The body is fairly full and there's some more thick dark fruit and licorice that leads to an almost coffee-ish finish. With a beer-braised chicken and lima bean stew flavored with plenty of garlic, thyme and paprika -- an excellent pairing. $15.

Raimat "Vina 24" 2008 Albarino -- Light nose of wildflowers and lemon zest. An acidic body that tastes a little like lemonade made with honey. Finish is lemony, a bit tart, with a little lingering minerality. A very pleasant wine for an aperitif. We also tried it with a homemade veggie pasta -- grape tomatoes, basil, and oregano sautéed in garlic and olive oil and tossed with homemade linguine. Acidity stood up nicely without overpowering some of the fresh vegetable and semolina flavors. Very nice. $11.

Finca Luzon 2006 Altos de Luzon Jumilla -- An interesting nose of plums and figs greets you here. It boasts a full-flavored body of dark fruits like blueberries and a real backbone of earthiness. Finish is spicy and acidic. This is a fantastic wine for pairing with big, rich foods. We had this with a veal & mushroom stew and it was absolutely outstanding. $16.

Vevi Rueda 2008 Verdejo/Viura -- An interesting blend of these two major white grapes. In the spirit of Nigel Tufnel, we asked, "How much more grapefruity could this wine be? The answer is none...none more grapefruity." Any fan of tart sauvignon blancs would really enjoy this wine. It's pleasantly acidic and refreshing, and exceedingly food friendly with light meats or fish. We had it with grilled snapper. For $9, a really solid value.

Thanks...and the rundown

One more time -- thanks so much to K2 and the gang at Liquor Direct in Covington and Ft. Thomas for being such fantastic hosts at the wine tasting last Friday and Saturday. I had a great time. Honestly, I had as much fun meeting the staff as I did talking about the wines. I hope we can do this again sometime.

So, what does a cheap wine guy select from a store to taste when given the run of the place? For those of you who couldn't make it down (or up, or over, depending on your geography), here's the rundown of what I had out for folks to try:

Martin Codax 2007 Albariño -- "As if a chenin blanc mated with a bottle of honey." Maintains all the crispness and fruitiness of this wonderful Spanish grape, but with a little residual sugar to take the edge off the acidity. The result, a very approachable, mostly dry, friendly wine that you could have on its own or with any kind of fish. $10-12.

Muga 2007 Rosado -- Lighter than when I first wrote about it, but still one of the best pink wines I've run into. Bone dry, but with plenty of melon and grapefruit flavors, I described this as my "fallback if I've been invited to dinner and don't know what's cooking." Anything short of a ribeye will pair nicely. $12-14.

Verget du Sud 2006 Syrah d'Endes -- A French syrah that will show you what the "Old World Funk" is, if you still don't know how that smells. The...ahem..."forest floor" smacks you right in the nose at first whiff, but beneath that (especially on the palate) is one of the more complex wines you'll find for around $10. There are all sorts of smoky, dark berry, and earth flavors playing around here. Some balanced tannin dries your palate at the end. As one taster put it, "This one makes my tongue feel fuzzy." Think mushrooms, ratatouille, or anything with legumes to go alongside.

Marques de Caceras 2004 Rioja Crianza -- Probably the overall winner by seeing the number of bottles I saw walking out of the store after tasting. I love this wine. The label says that you should "open an hour before drinking." If you follow those instructions, once this wine opens up, it's wonderfully fruity without being overwhelming. Nice body of blackberries and cherries. The finish is long and soft, eventually turning dry. An extremely well-balanced wine, especially for $10-12. As I told folks, "Anything you can drag across fire goes with this wine."

Batasiolo 2007 Moscato d'Asti -- I don't see a lot of dessert wines at tastings, and I thought it would be fun to throw this out there. When I saw the range of wines, I thought, "Start with honey...finish with honey." Unlike the Albariño, however, this wine was quite sweet -- pears and honey were the dominant flavors. This wine could be an aperitif, go by its own as a dessert, or pair with a fruit and cheese brunch board. And, at 5% alcohol, you don't have to worry. Just enjoy. $10-12.



Stumble It!

Prospero Año Nuevo!

The Sweet Partner in Crime hits a birthday milestone this year. She's long said she wanted to be "floating in the Mediterranean" then. Unfortunately, the collapse of the US dollar has made this an untenable scenario. If Barcelona weren't an option, we decided the least we could do was bring Spain to us.

In keeping with our New Year's Eve tradition of doing some experimental cooking, tasting scads of wine, discovering new pairings, and enjoying a mellow evening at home with Mooch, we forged ahead with a little Spanish feast for ourselves. The lineup for the evening:

Tapas:
Smoked Fish & Fruit Pintxos
Shrimp & Scallop Ceviche
Artichoke Hearts with Almonds & Figs
Mushroom Caps stuffed with Serrano Ham

Wines:
Gazela 2007 Vinho Verde ($4-6)
Marqués de Cácares 2005 Rioja Blanco ($6-8)
Martin Códax 2006 Albariño ($10-12)
Care 2006 Cabernet/Tempranillo Rosé ($8-10)
Albiker 2005 Rioja ($6-8)
Freixenet Brut Cordon Negro Cava ($8-10)
Alvear "Carlos VII" Amontillado Sherry ($22-25)

Primer Curso -- The Sherry Retasting
As you've undoubtedly noticed, the Amontillado is outside our price range. My good friend The Wizard of Covington and I have had a number of conversations about how many people's distaste for certain kinds of liquors came from not drinking "The Good." (The Wizard is now a fan of certain types of rum, scotch, and sake as a result…) Last year's New Year's tasting centered on Sherries. After that fiasco, I decided I'd get a recommendation on a better quality sherry before I wrote the beverage off. The Sweet Partner in Crime was dubious.

I poured a bit as an aperitif. The nose initially was pungent, but not unpleasant and somewhat nutty. I was hopeful. I sipped a bit. It was certainly better than some of the selections from last year, but "better" is a relative term. I could have drunk more of it, but it wouldn't have been my choice on its own. Perhaps with the food…

Segundo Curso -- Fishie, Fishie, Fish…
Our first course was the pintxos, which are skewers of tomatoes, berries, olives, and smoked fish splashed with lemon juice and sprinkled with fresh ground pepper. Our original thought was that the combination seemed peculiar, to say the least. On first taste, however, we discovered that the sweet, salty, smoky flavors meshed into something nigh unto spectacular.

We had this with the white Rioja and the Vinho Verde. (The latter is actually a Portuguese wine, since there's not a Spanish VV to be found in the Greater Cincinnati area.) The Vinho Verde (just like the last time I tasted it) was very light and crisp. The Rioja was fuller, fruitier, and slightly more "round." Both of them would make nice aperitifs both complimented the wonderful array of flavors on the skewers. The Rioja probably graded out slightly better for both of us, but neither disappointed.

Tercer Curso -- In the Raw
Next up was the ceviche. If you're not familiar, ceviche is seafood that's "cooked" by first blanching it in boiling water for a few seconds, then marinating it in lime and orange juice for several hours. The fish is then tossed with peppers, spices, and diced tomatoes. Both of us are big fans of this dish, and we were glad to see that we were able to properly replicate the scrumptious flavors.

We tried the ceviche with the first two wines, as well as the Albariño. On first taste, the Albariño was full of smooth pear and peach flavors, but still crisp and light. The finish wasn't as sharp as the other two wines. With the ceviche, though, there was no comparison. The Albariño blew the other two wines away. Arguably my favorite pairing of the evening. I can imagine that Albariño would be a good wine to have around for almost any occasion, as it's tasty on its own and superbly food friendly.

Cuarto Curso -- Dueling with the Wine Killer
We love artichokes but don't usually use them as the centerpiece of a course. As an ingredient in a dish, artichokes usually add a really nice flavor -- but on their own, the unique flavor is notoriously difficult to pair with wine. We were not going to be dissuaded, however, as artichokes are favorites both among residents of the Iberian Peninsula and our homestead.

The artichoke preparation was interesting -- pouring boiling water over the figs, letting them plump up for a few minutes, and then steeping saffron in the drained fig water. We then sautéed the artichokes briefly, added the saffron water, the figs, sliced almonds, some salt, and vinegar, and then cooked the whole mess until all the liquid was absorbed. The result was an extremely tasty concoction.

On the side, we had what turned out to be a very tasty rosé. This wine had more body than a lot of rosés. It was almost more of a "light red" than a pink wine. It was fruity and a little acidic, but had a "roundness" that I think came from the cabernet in the blend. Very flavorful. Alas, the two great tastes didn't taste great together. No matter what we tried it with, the artichokes made everything turn bitter. The rosé and the Vinho Verde were the best bets. The Albariño and the white Rioja would not be recommended. And the Sherry? Ew. Just ew.

Quinto Curso -- Getting stuffed
The last official course of the evening was mushroom caps stuffed with diced Serrano ham, parsley, and peppers and then baked. The base flavors were great, but, unfortunately, we added a bit too much dried pepper. The heat of the filling came close to overwhelming the really interesting combination of flavors, but we managed.

The Rioja was quite a contrast to the lighter styled wines we'd had earlier in the evening. After the whites and the rosé, a mouthful of tannin and berries came as a shock -- albeit a very pleasant shock. The nose had plenty of plummy fruit, the body was full, and the finish was medium in both length and dryness. Very pleasant.

If we'd cut back on the heat a bit, the Rioja probably would have been the better pairing, but the rosé turned out to be quite nice. The acidity cut through the heat and brought up the flavor more strongly, but it wasn't for the faint of heart. I once again braved the sherry. All it did was intensify the heat, sending me to the kitchen for a spoon of lime juice to cool everything down. The sherry will likely go down as the most expensive bottle of cooking wine I've ever purchased.

Sexto Curso -- Ringing in 2008
Our meal complete, we settled in to watch the ball drop. We switched back and forth between Dick Clark and some random X-Games dude jumping a football field on his motorcycle twice. At the stroke of midnight, we did need some bubbly -- and I went with my old standby, Freixenet cava. Fresh and crisp, this is one of my favorite sparkling wines. After a glass to start the year in a sparkling manner, we discovered that the flavor-cutting tendencies of sparkling wine made it the best pairing of the evening for both the blazin' mushrooms and the artichokes.

(Yes, I know it's not the right toast -- we don't have "Salud" glasses…)

Not long after, we called it quits. I put a stopper in the cava to save it for New Year's mimosas; we cleaned up the kitchen more or less, and crashed. I can only hope that the rest of 2008 is as much fun as New Year's Eve was (and we will get ourselves to Spain at some point), and I hope all of you started the year out on a good foot. Welcome to 2008, everyone!

Salud y amor!

'Tis the Season -- Party Wines

Party Season: the stretch from Thanksgiving to New Year's. Most folks' dance cards fill up early with social engagements -- dinners with groups of friends, notorious office parties, and general gatherings for people to mingle, drink, and be merry. Custom demands you "bring something to the party," and wine's always a good choice. All you need is a corkscrew and a sound system -- you've got yourself an official shindig.

We find ourselves in the situation with which we started this venture -- ambling the aisles of your local liquor store trying to sort out appropriate choices. This dilemma is somewhat akin to Thanksgiving: You need something flexible enough to satisfy a group without looking cheap or clueless.

With some help from the Sweet Partner in Crime (who happens to be a criminologist in real life) -- we subdivided the party circuit into two major categories: informal gatherings for grazing and drinking and more "formal," and I use that term very loosely, dinner parties. While there are lots of choices (and feel free to add your own in the comments section) -- I offer up a red and a white for each type to get you started. First off -- the "gather and graze:"

These events are your basic "everyone shows up at someone's house, munch on appetizers, and carry on various degrees of conversation/deviltry" deals. There's usually at least one table where people pile liquor and wine for general consumption. If this is where you're going, look here:

Rosemount Estates 2005 Shiraz -- About as safe a decent wine as you can get. Rosemount is one of the more popular Australian bargain-line wines. I was a big fan of the Rosemount blends until they jacked up the price across the board. The Shiraz, however, remains a favorite of mine for sluggable red. Straightforward, uncomplicated -- this is a perfect red for walking around, chatting people up, and drinking a few glasses to get a warm glow. While the Rosemount's nose is plummy with a little leather scent, the best feature is the taste. Rosemount is a very fruity Shiraz with straightforward dark berry flavors. There's not a lot of tannin here, so it doesn't finish very dry -- just fruit and a little bit of pepper. Rosemount Shiraz is the very definition of "easy quaffer." If you're looking for a "real" syrah/shiraz, you're probably better off looking elsewhere. But for our purposes -- unveil, uncork, and go to town…you're not going to do much better for $6 a bottle. Heck, just drop the pretense and get the under $10 1.5 liter bottle. We're all friends here.

Snoqualmie Vineyards 2004 Chenin Blanc -- Now, as for a white... Again, we need something everyone can drink -- not too sweet, not too dry, enough complexity for corkheads and enough ease for less serious drinkers. What to do? My first instinct would be Riesling, predictably -- but I've done a lot of those recently. Chardonnay...well, many inexpensive chards are either going to be overly oaky or way too dry for mass consumption. Sauvignon Blanc? Too tart. Viognier? A lot of people think they're too perfumey and some of my friends have had really negative reactions to viognier for some reason. I settled on Chenin Blanc. Chenin Blanc gets a bad rap. Much like "Burgundy" and "Chablis" --"chenin blanc" evokes thoughts of cheap wine shoplifted by high school kids tired of Boone's Farm. While the Chenin Blanc grape has been used in great quantity in jug wine, in the hands of someone who knows what they're doing -- it becomes a refreshing, accessible white. The Snoqualmie is an example. This Washington-produced white has a pronounced fruit nose, but it's not as citrusy as a sauvignon. The taste starts a little sweet, but becomes a nice light balance of lemon and pear. There's a little acidic zing on the finish which turns fruity and crisp. It's an ideal "stand around and graze on munchies" wine -- as this would go really well with most hard cheeses and other such finger food. You're looking at $6-7 for a bottle.

Our other category, the loosely defined "dinner party," will have at least one evening's component where you're actually going to use a set of silverware, a napkin, and sit around a table. Since you'll generally have multiple courses, you can be a little more specific in your wine choices. Just ask your host or hostess what you're having, and plan accordingly:

Burgans 2004 Albariño -- This wine looks out of place in the Spanish section with its Celtic script and label graphic. As most of you know, wine isn't exactly Ireland's national spirit. (I may ask The Wizard of Covington to guest-write a column on the joys of Clontarf down the road, however.) What's Ireland have to do with Spain? Centuries ago, some of the first settlements in the Iberian Peninsula were Celtic -- especially in this wine's region of Spain. As a nod to their northern neighbors, Burgans styled the bottle with Celtic script. Both bottle and cork are adorned with a rune. As you may remember from the entry a couple of months ago, Albariño is one of Spain's most precious white grapes. Albariños tend to be a little more expensive, but a couple fall into Vine range. An Albariño is very different from most whites. It's not quite as perfumey as a viognier, and usually has a little sweetness, but not as much as a Riesling. These wines are usually exceptionally well-balanced. Here, the Burgans has a wonderful nose of fresh flowers and mangoes. This is a medium bodied wine, and the sweetness only shows up at the very beginning with a full taste of ripe green apple. The finish is a little tart, a little sweet, and quite nice. This would be a very flexible food wine, so you'll be in business. I had this with penne pasta with potatoes, zucchini, and tomatoes and the pairing worked nicely. I've also heard that smoked salmon would go wonderfully well if you're pairing up with an appetizer. This is a very "hot" varietal right now -- so impress your friends with this bottle --$10-12.

Windmill Vineyards 2005 Old Vine Zinfandel -- Michael-David Winery in Lodi, California has cranked out some really incredible wine over the last few years. Their signature wine, 7 Deadly Zins, is a regular gold medal winner -- and another favorite of mine. Unfortunately, it's slightly out of our price range. However, as I mentioned in an earlier entry -- one can find really good value by looking for "second label" wines by such growers. The Windmill is a perfect example. Just so you know, "Old Vine" is WineSpeak for…well…there's not really an agreed upon definition, other than that the vines are generally at least 30-40 years old. If a vine can produce consistently and with quality for that long, it's planted in the right place -- and if it ain't broke, don't fix it. The Windmill is a blend of old vine fruit from several of Michael-David's neighboring wineries. These choices produce a powerful zin with a big nose of blackberries and wood smoke. The taste is downright luscious -- all sorts of big cherry and vanilla flavors balance out the rich tannins. The finish is lingering, with dark chocolate and cooling mint. I went to undergrad down Durham, North Carolina way -- and it's hard to be there for any length of time without picking up a fondness for barbecue (and for you Northeastern readers, that's a noun, not a verb). This straightforward zinfandel would be a great pairing with some properly prepared North Carolina style barbecue -- or just about anything else with smoky, grilled flavors. Since you'll probably be having some heavier food this time of year, comfort food will work well. For dessert, of course, chocolate would work swimmingly. You're looking at $9-11 for this one.

Enjoy your season of socialization! And until next time…throw your hands in the air, and wave them like there are no conceivable consequences.

The Sun Also Rises...and so does my glass.

Spanish wines, among many other sensual pleasures of that great nation, became well known to the world in the writings of Hemingway. ("This wine is too good for toast-drinking, my dear. You don't want to mix emotions up with a wine like that. You lose the taste." -- The Sun Also Rises) And Papa certainly had good taste. In addition, since October is Hispanic Heritage Month -- Spanish wine becomes a natural fit for this week.

Spain is the world's third largest wine producer. Spain has a long, storied history of wine production -- but only in the last ten years or so have these wines really started to gain a solid foothold around the globe. The Iberian Peninsula has historical evidence of wine dating to around 1100, but if you're a Biblical scholar, Noah supposedly planted the first vineyard 5000 or so years ago.

"Modern" winemaking came to Spain in the 1850's and 1860's. As longtime readers will astutely recognize, that was the approximate time of the phylloxera outbreak in France. (For my new readers -- phylloxera is a species of louse that wiped out huge portions of the European vineyards over 150 years ago. Jump back to my article on Chilean wine to read more.) French winemakers, fleeing the devastation of our little pest, crossed the Pyrenees in droves, bringing grapes and know-how with them. Spain's vineyards were largely spared until the turn of the century, when phylloxera eventually made the migration across the mountains. The vineyards made it through in much better shape, and the techniques were in place to craft wonderful wine. In the last 30 years, Spain has also benefited greatly from the technological Renaissance that has done so much for South American wines.

Spain started producing a great deal of quality, easy-to-find, easy-on-pocketbook wines in the last ten years or so. The winemaking tradition in Spain was to age wines for a long time in oak before bottling -- creating a number of mediocre wines where the subtleties were overrun by the wood. Spain has been quicker on the trigger to release wines in recent years -- although Spanish wines do tend to improve with a little aging. If you see "Crianza" on a bottle of Spanish wine, it's been aged at least two years. "Reserva" indicated three years aging, and "Reserva Especial" is at least five years old.

Spain has two major red varietals -- Tempranillo and Garnacha. Garnacha is the same grape as Grenache, which is the backbone of many of the best French Rhone wines. Also from France comes the nomenclature -- as many Spanish wines are named after their locale. The best known region for French red is Rioja, although Peñedes is another big producer. Navarra and Campo de Borja are also up and comers. Spanish reds are often earthy and fruity, and you'll rarely find a red that doesn't at least have some wood with the tannin.

Among whites, the two most common varieties are Albariño and Verdejo. Albariño creates very perfumey, wonderful whites -- much like viognier. Verdejo is a very interesting grape -- like a less-acidic sauvignon blanc with some pepper thrown in. It's often blended with sauvignon blanc. There is also a wonderful sparkling wine, cava, made in Spain -- but I'll come back to that later.

Historically, Spain is best known for Sherry. Sherry is a fortified wine (often upwards of 20% alcohol) that's made from a neutral grape brandy added to wine after initial fermentation. Another fortified wine from Spain is Madeira -- which was used by George Washington to toast the Declaration of Independence. These wines certainly deserve further study…

For this week, three wines -- ranging in region, variety, and color.

Artazuri 2005 Garnacha -- As I mentioned, Garnacha is the same grape as Grenache -- backbone of many of the big earthy French wines. In Spain, however, Garnacha delivers a very different character. Rather than the earthy smell of this varietal's French cousins, the Artazuri, grown in Navarra, comes straight at you with bright, fruity character. The nose of this wine is wonderful -- while there's a touch of earth, the overwhelming scent is of black cherries and plums. The medium body of this wine is peppery and fruity -- zinfandelesque. The finish is long and a little spicy, with the cherry flavors from the body hanging around a good while. While I probably wouldn't pair this with a steak, barbecue would go fantastically well with this, as would, I think, a curry that's got some potatoes or other earthy veggies in it. This wine would be extremely food friendly, so you can't go wrong -- as long as the food has a little bit of heft to it. And for $9-11, anyone at a party would be happy with this. I also think you could buy several and easily hold on to this for six months or a year, and you'd really have something.

Borsao 2005 Rosé -- I've been long overdue for a rosé review, and I figured I might as well look at one since there's such good red grape stock here in Spain (and since I enjoyed my last Spanish rosé so much). Borsao's rosé is made from 100% Garnacha grown in the Campo de Borja region. This dark pink entry greets you with a floral nose that includes some easy peach scents. This wine's gentle first taste is very light and includes more of that nice ripe fruit. The taste lingers briefly before spreading into a long, citrusy, slightly spicy finish that includes some hints of cinnamon. While this would be a perfect summer wine -- as the weather starts to turn colder, pull out some Mediterranean style recipes and do some roasting: whether it's a slow-cooked chicken, an earthy chickpea and eggplant dish, or some marinated pork chops. There's a braised monkfish recipe I once put together that I think would go wonderfully here, and you can find a bottle of Borsao for between $6-8. A good, flexible entry.

Las Brisas 2005 Blanco -- Might Las Brisas is from the Rueda region, and -- while it's getting a little late in the year to discuss a wine this light -- keep this one in your memory banks until next year rolls around and the weather starts warming up and you can kick back outdoors again. The lively Las Brisas is one of those aforementioned blends of Verdejo and Sauvignon Blanc, and has a lot of the recognizable character of the latter. The grapefruitiness of a sauvignon is certainly present on the nose, but it's somewhat mellower, balanced by a mangoish scent. It's a very light wine -- a little tart and lemony, but the acidity mellows quickly into a fruity peppery body and a strong, flavorful finish. This would be a wonderful aperitif or poolside wine, but if you have any kind of fish dish -- I had this with a baked cod -- you're going to be in business. You could also consider a cheese tortellini, or most any kind of Spanish dish that doesn't involve beef or pork. Probably plan to spend $8-10 on this very easygoing, happy wine.

So lift a glass of Spanish wine this week, and until next time…Arriba!