Cru Bourgeois du Medoc, Craft Beer Hipsters, and French Courts

Before the Naked Vine was but a twinkle in my virtual eye, I was a fairly prodigious homebrewer. This was before the early-aught’s explosion of homebrewing. Working out of a closet in my old bachelor pad tucked away off Harrodsburg Road in Lexington, I cranked out wildly varied batches of beer. I’d pore through brewing books and the scant online resources at the time to find new styles. Steam beer, Scotch ale, Belgian lambic, bitter (which isn’t bitter), porter, stout. I tried to taste the rainbow.

(I also tried making wine, but the juice I could produce was inferior to what I could buy in the store. That is, except for one particular batch, codenamed “Libido Blanc,” which had an effect on mere mortals so powerful that the recipe was classified as a state secret.)

I enjoyed learning how the various styles were classified, the various malts and hops that were signatures of a particular type. That knowledge made me a good consumer, especially once my preferences started to shift from beer to wine.

Fast forward about…well…a decade and a half from my brewing days, and the craft beer revolution is in full swing. I’ve lost count of how many different permutations of India Pale Ale I’ve stumbled away from in the last few years. Hop heads carrying Moleskins have become common sights in the world’s brewpubs, sampling and classifying beers by taste, color, region, grain & hop terroir – even water sources. Some of them have adopted a bit of a hipster mentality, loudly proclaiming the superiority of a region or a style over another.

“Dude, I’m here for French wine,” you’re probably saying, “What’s this got to do with Vin de Bordeaux?”

For centuries, the French have treated wine like the craft beer crews do their steins of suds. In Bordeaux, red wine is parsed so finely that our beery hipster’s ironic Grizzly Adams beard would grow half an inch from sheer envy. Traditionally, Bordeaux is classified according to the “Classification of 1865,” stemming from a decree from Napoleon.

As we’ve covered before, the top wines in Bordeaux were classified into five “Growths,” based on their chateau of origin. The designation supposedly represents where the winery ranks on a hierarchy of general wine quality. (And if you imagine there might have been some skullduggery as wineries tried to get themselves “classed up,” you’d be 100% correct.) In all, there are 61 classified growth chateaux, and the wines they produce are historically the most expensive. If you’re curious, the wineries that make up the “Premier Cru Classe” (First Growth) are Chateaux Lafite, Latour, Haut-Brion, Margaux, and Lafite-Rothschild. Looking up the prices is left as an exercise for the reader, but fifth growth wines usually start around $50.

Below the classified growths come the “AOC” wines, which tend to be less expensive – and will be the ones you tend to find in the French section of your local wine store. They’re labeled with the sub-region of Bordeaux, such as Graves, Fronsac, or Medoc and with the name of the Chateau that produced the bottle. Below that on the classification scale are Bordeaux AOC and Bordeaux Superieur AOC. These wines can be made from grapes grown anywhere in Bordeaux. These tend to be the standard “table Bordeaux.”

Needless to say, the “official classification” led to some consternation among growers, mainly in the Medoc region, who felt that their own products were of higher quality than ordinary table wine. They wanted a classification above AOC even if they weren’t classified growths. For this reason, 444 estates were designated as “Cru Bourgeois” in 1932, indicating that they were a “cut above.”

Eventually, of course, some of those chateaux wanted a more prestigious designation within Cru Bourgeois. In 2000, the classification was revised again into three quality tiers, released in 2003. The reaction was swift and nasty, leading to French courts annulling the classification in 2007.

Ever enterprising, the winemakers of the region compromised. They brought back the Cru Bourgeois designation in 2010 – but rather than a blanket award to an entire chateau, the designation is applied on a wine-by-wine basis, based on a yearly blind tasting.

Crus Bourgeois tend to run between $20-50. The winemaking techniques and production costs are

very similar, if not identical, to those used in classified growth wines. The producers of Cru Bourgeois argue, since their wines are tasted for quality on a yearly basis, that they can promise a product of equivalent quality to many classified growth wines.

I was fortunate enough to receive a couple of examples of these Cru Bourgeois. I wound up with the Chateau Tour des Termes 2012 St. Estephe ($30) and the Chateau Lestage Simon 2012 Haut-Medoc ($22). We tried these over the course of a couple of evenings.

The Tour de Termes was a real treat. The bouquet had a really interesting mint scent over a bit of old world funk. Smooth and silky, the palate yielded complex flavors of dark cherry and blackberry, with a little bit of tar and some firm tannins. The finish was easy and lasting, with really nicely balanced tannins. Definitely a wine for consenting adults. When we came back to it the next evening, it still held on to many of its smooth characteristics. Even at $30, I thought this bottle was a great value.

The Lestage was also a good wine, but it lacked the wow factor and the complexity of the Termes. I thought it was a little more straightforward with the fruit, and didn’t have quite as much depth on the palate. This one had a little bit of a licorice flavor that seemed not to quite line up with the fruit. A day later, it had pretty much fallen apart and wasn’t too different from a “standard” Bordeaux to my tastes. Again, it wasn’t that it was bad – it just didn’t do as well in comparison.

I think that a quality designation like this carries a lot more weight than simply relying on a historical classification from 200 years ago. As my sommelier buddies would tell me, the French “Grand Cru Classe” designations aren’t inaccurate, but there are always considerable differences from vintage to vintage – and the price point doesn’t always line up with the quality. A yearly “stamp of approval” at least lets you know that a wine has passed muster. I find that process eminently sensible. And if you can get a Bordeaux for $30 that’s comparable in quality to a classified growth, you’re doing pretty well for yourself. Try some and thank me later.

Naked Vine One-Hitter: Avignonesi, a Bordeaux lost in Tuscany

Ah, Tuscany -- how we love you. Home of all those wonderful Sangiovese grapes which get turned into Chianti and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano and rich goodies like Super Tuscan wines.

The Super Tuscans, are not made according to the traditional standards of Tuscany. Instead, these wines generally have Sangiovese blended with other grape varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot -- usually yielding wines that are bigger and richer than many of their Italian counterparts.

So what happens when a winemaker in Montepulciano decides, "Oh, heck with it -- I've got all these high-quality Bordeaux-blend grapes...let's make a high-end wine from that juice and commit the heresy of including zero Sangiovese in the mix."

The answer, or at least one of them, is the Avignonesi Desiderio Cortona DOC Merlot 2011. This Bordeaux blend of 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet is a big, burly bottle of red, clocking in at 14.5% alcohol. It's aged for 18 months in barriques, which are the small barrels traditionally used to age Bordeaux.

Thanks to Sean at Colangelo, I had the opportunity to try a sample of this high end (around $60) Italian red.

Not a wine for the faint of heart -- this merlot is toothstainingly rich and thick. I'd say it's probably as big an "Old World" wine as I've come across any time recently. That said, the Desiderio starts with a nose that's surprisingly light. I caught the cherry notes that I usually find accompanying a Sangiovese-based wine, which is probably at least some function of the teroir. I also found some darker blackcurrant scents followed by a whiff of chocolate.

Any illusions that the light nose might yield subtle flavors disappear quickly. On the palate. stuff gets going right away with the gobs of big, rich dark fruit that you'd expect in a merlot, but alongside a big blast of smoky tannin. The mouthfeel is big, tannic, and drying. The finish lingers long and dry, with plenty of plum and smoke. I found the Desiderio to be little rough around the edges, so you might want to consider laying it down for a bit. If you crack it now, decant it for a good long while, and serve it next to some hearty, preferably grilled, fare or big sauces to take the edge off. Many lamb preparations would be a good match here.

Naked Vine Luxury Double Barrel -- Euclid Wines

Opus One. Heard of it?

Maybe you only know it as a Jay-Z lyric, but Opus One helped put Napa Valley’s Cabernet Sauvignon on the world wine map. First created in 1979 as a joint venture of California’s Robert Mondavi and Baron Philippe de Rothschild, owner of Chateau Mouton Rothschild – producers of the first-growth Bordeaux of the same name. Opus One was, at the time, the most expensive wine produced in California – retailing for $50. Opus One now retails for $235 per bottle.

Alas, the Opus One folks did not send along samples. But Opus One’s former cellarmaster, Mike Farmer, did. (Thanks, also, to Susan at WineGlass Marketing.) When Mike retired from his position, he and his son Lucas created Euclid Wines – drawing on his 30-plus years of experience in the wine business.

For those unfamiliar with what a “cellarmaster” does (and this included me until writing this review!) – this individual is the person who’s in charge of all aspects of production at a winery from when the containers of grapes come rolling in the door to when the cases of bottled wine go rolling out. A winemaker draws up the strategy to create a wine. The cellarmaster executes that strategy.

This father-son duo said they wanted to make a Cabernet Sauvignon as their signature wine. They currently produce a premium Cabernet (which is 97% Cabernet with 3% Syrah to round out the blend) and a 100% Syrah, both produced from grapes grown on Howell Mountain in Napa County. The geometrical-sounding name of the winery is Mike Farmer’s middle name, passed down from his grandfather, Euclid Doucette. Farmer describes his grandfather as “a man of intensity, integrity, and true to his word,” and he tried to model his wines after the emotions stemming from that familial respect.

Lucas and Mike Farmer

There are fewer more direct examples of the market’s invisible hand than wine price points. High-end wine demands high-end prices because people are willing to shell out the cash. As any marketing student will tell you, there are plenty of ways to make wine more desirable aside from actually making a superior product. Fancy packaging, slick marketing, using adult film stars to garner positive reviews, and other tricks of the trade.

The Euclid 2010 Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon retails for $85, and this is one of the few wines I’ve tried where I thought, “You know, this really tastes like an $85 bottle of wine.” This cabernet is exceptionally well crafted and offers some of the most interesting aromatics I’ve sniffed. My notes say “peaches, cotton candy, crème brulee perfumed sweetness.” Needless to say, these aren’t words that pop up in my reviews of reds very often. The flavor is exceptionally well-balanced, full of vanilla, dark fruit, and super-balanced tannin. The finish was lasting, gorgeous lushness. I grilled a couple of good steaks, which I put next to some grilled beets with goat cheese and dill and it was transcendently good.

The Euclid Cab is a fabulous wine and it’s a shame it goes so quickly. I had the last half-glass in the quiet of the Man Cave while mellowing out after the Sweet Partner in Crime had retired for the evening. The wine tasted like Dobie Gray’s “Drift Away” sounds at the end of a hard day.

The Euclid 2010 Sierra Foothills Syrah is not quite as pricey as its sister Cab. The retail on this bottle is $40. Syrah is generally a couple of orders of magnitude fruitier and deeper than Cabernet Sauvignon, so I didn’t expect the same sort of subtlety we’d experienced. Even with that notion…wow, what a contrast in style between these wines.

Returning to the previous metaphor, if the Cabernet is a mellow 70’s tune, the Syrah is A Tribe Called Quest’s “Low End Theory.” Good lawrd, I don’t know that I’ve ever experienced anything quite like this wine. The nose is typical Syrah – plums, violets, and spice – although it’s really well balanced and quite pretty. The mouthfeel is rich, thick, and fruity…and then the bottom absolutely drops out of this inky, tannic monster. Imagine the warming feel of a good bourbon or scotch and convert that sensation to the fullness and depth of tannin and you’ve got this Syrah’s finish. I could feel blackness filling my chest as I drank this down. While it’s not the drying, mouth puckering tannin that it could be, it feels like a dark depth charge. Boom.

I decided to do some lamb chops as a pairing with this – and about halfway through the meal, the Sweet Partner in Crime says, “I just can’t do it. It’s too big.” Caught between the richness of the wine, the marbling of the chops and the savory nature of the fennel and caper relish I’d done as a side, the SPinC overloaded. (My Uncle Alan, in contrast, would have been in absolute heaven.) I got through my glass and, upon seeing myself in the bathroom mirror later, noticed that a single glass of the Euclid was sufficient to blacken my teeth.

We didn’t get through the whole bottle. I put a VacuVin on it and sampled it over the next couple of days. After a day, it hadn’t opened up much. After two days, some of the lighter, more vanilla aspects of the nose started to come through – even though the body was still enormous. I think it still needs more time. Make sure you decant it for at least a couple of hours before you drink it. My half-hour wasn’t enough. If you like wines this powerful, snag a couple of bottles to hold for a few years.

A French Four-Pack for the Freezin' Season

It’s cold and dreary. The sun barely peeks out – and when it does, it’s not much of a help warming things up. These are richer food days, my friends. For me, richer food calls for wine with a backbone of earth – and that leads me instinctively to one place – France.

My French wine palate perks up in the winter, because these wines go so nicely with foods that have some heft to them. Butter, mushrooms, rich meats and root veggies – French wine is a lovely accompaniment to those sorts of flavors, generally.

(Now, I admit – I do try to cook in at least a reasonably healthy manner. It’s not beef bourguignon every night of the week, and what I and the SPinC consider rich these days might be a bit of a stretch. But we feel like it’s rich – so there.)

The good folks at Bourgeois Family Selections – one of my favorite importers of reasonably-priced French wine – recently sent along a four pack of their latest offerings. Bourgeois does a good job finding solid biodynamic and sustainable wines. We knocked the chill off our bones and cracked these over the period of a week or so. Here’s what we found:

Domaine des Gerbeaux 2012 “Le Clos” Macon-Solutre – Macon-Solutre is an area in Southern Burgundy. You may have seen “Macon-Villages” – which is a Chardonnay made from particular areas within the Macon region. Solutre is one of those areas. The specific name of a village on a wine usually connotes a higher quality of juice, and this was no exception. This wine reminded me of lemon custard – rich and citrusy on the nose and body, but the finish leans out into a grapefruity, minerally denoument that becomes more pronounced as it gets some air. There’s a hint of smokiness, as well – even though this is an unoaked wine. I liked this quite a bit. You should find it for around $17-20.

Chateau Les Ancres 2010 Bordeaux – Bordeaux, especially most value-priced Bordeaux, tends to be made with a backbone of merlot. This one is no exception – it’s about 2/3 Merlot, with the rest mostly Cabernet Sauvignon. There’s 2% Cabernet Franc to round it out. This wine really needs decanting – since at first sip, there’s very little flavor. Have patience with this one. It started with a light flavor of blackberry and cocoa, widened out across the midpalate with some nice smoke and earth, and then landed with a tannic bag of hammers on the back of my tongue. Once it opens up, there’s a surprising richness to it. With stews, superb, especially for $11-13. And it goes better with chocolate than many Bordeaux.

Chateau La Faviere 2009 Bordeaux Superieur – “Bordeaux Superieur” is a wine sourced from grapes grown anywhere in Bordeaux, but the process of the winemaking is a little different. The reds with that moniker have somewhat higher alcohol contents, are aged a little longer, and tend to be a littlemore complex than standard Bordeaux. This wine, however, I didn’t get a chance to write many notes on. The SPinC and I opened this before a dinner of roasted chicken in a tarragon and butter sauce, and it was a splendid accompaniment. So splendid, in fact, that we got to talking and laughing – and the next thing we knew, we’d killed off the prettily embossed bottle. Take that for what it’s worth. I’d snag this again for around $15.

Domaine de Chateaumar 2012 “Cuvee Bastien” Cotes-du-Rhone – I’ll admit to looking a little askance at the name of this wine. Cotes-du-Rhone are generally blends, known as cuvees – usually made up largely of varying amounts of Syrah and Grenache. This wine, however, is 100% Grenache – so I assume it’s Grenache from a number of different vineyards. I enjoyed the difference. This is a somewhat lighter-styled Cotes-du-Rhone which I can imagine flexibly working with almost any food pairing. Nice plum and berry flavors with enough weight and structure to be interesting. We had this alongside a pecan-crusted trout with sautéed cabbage with a cream sauce, and it worked quite nicely. Again, recommended at $13-15.

Stay warm out there! 

The Adventure Mom Mailbag

A few weeks ago, I wrote a review of Seasons 52, one of Cincinnati’s newest restaurants. I had the good fortune that evening to be sitting next to the lovely and talented Nedra McDaniel, better known around the Internets as Adventure Mom. Nedra says that her blog, where she documents her love of “living like a tourist” – is her attempt to inspire people to step outside their comfort zones. From Broadway shows to trapeze classes to underwater hockey, Adventure Mom’s got ideas for new and interesting experiences in spades.

Nedra asked me if I’d be willing to take some questions from she and her readers about wine and wine related stuff. I realized it had been quite a while (a couple of years, actually!) since I’d done a proper mailbag, so without further ado – here’s a sampling of what folks wanted to know:

Adventure Mom: I would like to know the best way to store wine once it's open.

The Naked Vine: The best way to store wine once it's open, honestly, is in the fridge. Wine turns to vinegar through oxidation, and cold slows that process down. Now, if you don't like your red wine cold -- you can just pour it and then patiently stare at it until it gets to where you like it...or (just don't let anyone see you), pop your glass in the microwave for5 seconds and swirl. No kidding. Those VacuVin sealers can work as well -- but not as well as refrigeration.

Raising2tweens: What wine do you suggest for a mom who has had a rough day with a 13 year old girl and an 11 yr old boy? LOL Seriously though... I only like red wine. Can it really go with all meals?

The Naked Vine: There are red wines that go with almost any sort of food -- you just have to be aware of styles. If you're making baked chicken, you probably don't want a big honkin' glass of Australian Shiraz. But a glass of a light red (especially with a little chill on it) would work just fine. In a case like that, an Italian Valpolicella or Chianti -- or a French Beaujolais would be good choices...

Khrys C.: I am really dumb regarding wines. Is there a class I can take that will smarten me up a bit so I can at least have an intelligent wine conversation and know how to choose one I'd like from the vast amount of different wines out there?

The Naked Vine: There are lots of wine appreciation classes out there if you want to get out and about. My personal suggestion (no surprise) is working your way through the Wine School series of articles that I wrote (http://www.thenakedvine.net/2006/04/wine-school-index.html)  as a way to get yourself started.

Daniel V: My wife and I just had our first child and I wanted to order some bottles of wine that I can age and give to her when she turns 21.  So my question is, what kind of bottle of wine would you recommend that will age 20 years and still be good? I was thinking a French Bordeaux like a 2009 Chateau Gruaud-Larose or Chateau Grand Puy-Lacoste. Would you recommend either one of those for this idea or should I consider something else?

The Naked Vine: Now that sounds like a heck of a gift! I think there are a number of ways that you can go with that. Your idea about the Bordeaux is a very good one. A quality Bordeaux should easily age for 20 years, and if that's the sort of wine that you like, then you can definitely go that route.

Some other ideas -- Sauternes and Riesling can age practicially indefinitely. Amarone and Barolo practically need 20 years just to make it to their prime drinkability window. There are, of course, other late harvest style wines that will also last awhile. California cabernet also has a lot of aging potential.

Bottom line -- what sort of wine is your favorite? What will you likely be letting your daughter sip at dinner over the next 20 years, so when she gets to have this little cornucopia for her own -- it's not going to be a total shock to her system. I would think of it more as a time capsule of your current palate that you get to share. I think it's a great thing you're doing!

Daniel V (followup): I live in South Texas (San Antonio) and like most houses here, we do not have basements or cellars. How do I properly store wine (like the present for my daughter) so it doesn’t get ruined over time?

The Naked Vine: Hmm...now this is where it gets a little bit complicated. There's a difference in storage for a couple of years and 20. The enemies of wine are heat and light -- so obviously you want somewhere dark and relatively cool -- and also relatively stable, temperature wise. It's big swings in temperature that really kill wine, so you want somewhere stable. Now, if you're keeping wine for a relatively short period of time (say 5 years or less), an interior closet that has a stable temperature and is dark will work just fine. Fridges will work, too -- but they are notoriously expensive and can be unreliable. I went through three of them before I put my cellar in.

Since what you're planning for your daughter will require decades of storage -- you might be better off investing in an underground cellar. It doesn't have to be fancy, big, or, honestly, even climate-controlled as long as it's not below a place that will be in the sun. The natural insulation from the earth will be enough. You just need a small underground space that you can access easily.

Failing that, there are self-storage places that have climate controlled wine storage. Just depends on how much you want to spend.

Got questions of your own? Send them to Mike at thenakedvine@gmail.com or at http://www.facebook.com/wineadvicefortherestofus

A Super Basic Primer on French Red Wine

I had the good fortune of leading another wine tasting last week focusing on French reds. While it’s pretty impractical (and nearly impossible) to run the gamut of French wine in a single tasting, a “’round the country” on the basics is possible. I didn’t have a map of France handy at the tasting as a visual aid in this circumnavigation, so I went with a geometric example.

France looks roughly like a pentagon pointed upwards. (Work with me here.) Almost all the French red wine you’ll commonly see comes from one of five regions. To get a sense of where these regions are, if you travel clockwise around this shape with the tip of the pentagon at 12:00, Burgundy is at 3 o’clock. Almost in a straight line south from 4-5 are Beaujolais and the Rhone Valley. Continuing around, Bordeaux is at around 8 o’clock and the Loire Valley runs inward from the coast at around 10.

[In case you’re interested, Paris is straight south of high noon, Champagne is at around 1 o’clock, Alsace is at 2, and Provence and the Languedoc run along the south coast from 5-6. Armagnac clocks in at 7 and Cognac is at 9. Put all this together and you have what sounds like a perfectly reasonable drinking schedule.]

Let’s rock around the clock, shall we?

Burgundy – We’ll start with my favorite of the five. Burgundy is easy to understand. If you see a bottle of red Burgundy, there’s a 99% chance that you’re looking at a bottle of Pinot Noir. Yes, there are a couple of other types of red grapes grown in Burgundy. Much like Jerry Lewis movie marathons, you usually won’t see wines made from them outside France’s borders. Good Burgundy curls sensually around your palate. Sipping away a bottle of this light bodied deliciousness is an evening’s pleasure. In my experience, no wine changes and develops more once the bottle opens. With well-prepared food ranging from meaty fish to almost any kind of beef or pork, Burgundy is an absolute champ. When a special occasion meal rolls around, you’ll almost always find Burgundy on my table.

The only downside to this fabulous wine? It’s pricey. It is very rare to find a decent bottle of Burgundy for under $20, honestly. The one for the tasting, the Domaine Jean-Luc Dubois 2008 Chorey-Les-Beaune, checked in at around $24. As an entry to the world of good Burgundy, though, it’s worth every penny. Deliciously balanced and soft cherry, pepper, earth, and smoke in every sip. If you can’t find that particular bottle, try almost any in your price range from anywhere near the town of Beaune. (as in Chorey-Les-Beaune, above.)

Beaujolais – If Burgundy is slow, languorous, and sensual, Beaujolais is a quickie on the kitchen floor. Maybe it’s not quite as romantic, but there is joy in being straightforward, fun, and a little sloppy. Beaujolais is made from the Gamay grape, which yields light-bodied, food-friendly wines that tend to lack the delicacy of Burgundy. These wines tend to be more acidic and “fruit forward.” Beaujolais are produced in a slightly different style. Rather than picking grapes, crushing them, and fermenting the juice, winemakers put the grapes in a tank, add yeast, and allow the grapes to crush themselves as they ferment. This process is called carbonic maceration. Also, while Burgundy can age for decades, you’re not going to impress anyone by pulling out 1999 Beaujolais. These are wines to enjoy within 3-4 years of bottling. You can pair Beaujolais with just about anything short of a big steak or a rich stew, and you can guiltlessly open one and knock it back, as it’s relatively low in alcohol.  You can usually find higher-end Beaujolais, called Beaujolais cru (the name of its town will be on the label) for $12-20. A good starter Beaujolais is the Louis Jadot 2010 Beaujolais-Villages, which is a small step down in quality and is usually around $10.

Rhone Valley – The wines get a little heavier as we move south into the Rhone Valley. As you learn wines, you might see a wine referred to as “masculine” or “feminine.” Preferences for human gender pressed against your lips notwithstanding, this phrase usually refers to the general style of flavor. Feminine wines are usually lighter bodied and delicate. (Burgundy is the quintessential example.) Rhone wines are more “masculine.” Masculine wines have more “in your face” flavors, be it the fruit, the tannin, the bouquet, etc. Rhone wines are almost universally blends. Some 21 different grapes end up in Rhone wines – but the majority of the ones you’ll usually find will be largely comprised of Grenache and Syrah.

Rhone wine flavors are all over the map, but there’s usually a plummy or dark berry fruit, some fairly strong earthy scents, and medium tannin. The most famous Rhone wines are from the area called Chateauneuf-de-Pape. They command fairly high prices (like the one we poured – the Cuvee Papale 2009 C-d-P at $36). I normally stick to the ones labeled “Cotes-du-Rhone,” which can be similar blends – but just aren’t from that particular locale. I use Cotes-du-Rhone as a pairing for earthy dishes, stews, and dark chocolate. You can find very decent Cotes-du-Rhone (similar wines are Cotes-du-Luberon, Cotes-du-Ventoux, and Gigondas) for $12-15.

Bordeaux – Returning to our masculine/feminine comparison – Bordeaux is the masculine yang to Burgundy’s feminine yin. Bordeaux alone produces almost as much wine each year as the entire state of California. Known as claret in Great Britain, Bordeaux is a blended wine usually comprised largely of cabernet sauvignon and merlot. (Other grapes allowed are cabernet franc, petit verdot, and malbec -- the latter two usually in very small quantities.) If you’re looking at Bordeaux in your wine store, ask whether a bottle is “left bank” or “right bank.” This refers to the side of the Garonne river on which the vines are planted. Left bank wines are predominantly cabernet sauvignon, while the right bank wines are majority merlot.

The flavor profile of Bordeaux usually centers on currants and blackberries. There’s usually a floral or “vegetal” scent in the bouquet as well as leather and earth. Bordeaux is a classic pairing with beef, pork, and lamb roasts as well as strong cheeses. Bordeaux does have a pricing issue. There’s a classification system for Bordeaux set up in 1865 that rewarded certain producers, thus cranking up the price for “” Bordeaux, such as Chateau Latour or Chateau Lafite Rothschild. However, wines grown less than a quarter mile from the vineyards producing the most expensive bottles in the world can sometimes be had for a tenth the price. The one we poured was the Chateau Briot 2009, which you can get for $10.

Loire Valley – Finally, we work our way around to the Loire, home of some of the more interesting reds in France. The Loire is best known for whites such as Muscadet and Sancerre. The Loire has one of the coolest climates for wine growing in France. In many vintages, the grapes don’t ripen fully. To combat this, winemakers in Loire can add sugar to their fermenters (a practice called chapitalization, which is illegal in most of the rest of the country) to “make up” for some of the unripeness. Loire reds are exclusively cabernet franc. You may have to hunt for  them a bit, as they’re relatively uncommon. If you see “Chinon” on a bottle, that’s a Loire red. These reds tend to be medium bodied and almost always have an undertone of minerals – described as a “graphite” flavor. Raspberry is the fruit flavor most commonly associated here.

Loire reds also often have what wine critics refer to as “brett.” Brett is short for Brettanomyces, a strain of yeast that, unchecked, will give a wine a horrid odor. A little bit, however, adds a scent of smoke (or sometimes bacon) to the bouquet. The one we poured – the Catherine & Pierre Breton 2009 “Trinch!” (French for the sound of two wine glasses clinking) certainly had a bacony nose, and the flavor was quite nice. ($19) Loire reds are polarizing. People usually either really like them or can’t stand them. I’m in the former category, thankfully.

Belt Tightening, Celebration & Last Minute Gifts

As we prepare to bid adieu to 2011, we find ourselves in the last throes of the holiday season. The last two weeks of the year become a multicolored haze of festive dinners, office parties, and gift exchanges all wrapped up in a nice pretty bow of the holiday shopping orgy. You can’t really go wrong this time of year with the Swiss Army knife of presents – a good bottle of wine.

For most events, an inexpensive bottle (such as most of the ones we normally discuss around here) will suffice. Anyone who wends the way through this social maze knows that people are usually looking for something palatable to quaff so that making small talk becomes more bearable.

That’s not always the case, though. Sometimes you need a special bottle – something with a little more flavor and complexity for a more meaningful occasion. As we’ve discussed in this space before, the end of the year is the best time to snag major bargains for your cellar or gift bag since wine stores are trying to clear inventory to make room for “next year’s model.”

This opportunity is further amplified by the continued economic doldrums. The super high end stuff that can cost hundreds – wines like classified growth Bordeaux, Screaming Eagle cabernet from Napa, rare Barolo and the like – they’re always going to sell. There will always be collectors who can afford them. On the other end of the scale, the demand for the $15 and under bottle increases as wine drinkers are more judicious about discretionary income. The market slice getting hammered are the wines with “in-between expensive” price points – say $20-100. Ask almost any wine buyer. These wines just aren’t moving very well.

Here’s where you can score big if you look closely. There are “in-between expensive” bottles just sitting out there. If you’ve read those descriptions on shelves in wine stores, you’ll see many lines like “Drink between 2005-2011.” Odds that these wines will sell briskly after that window closes? Small. Wine stores need to clear these puppies off the shelves, so many of them get offered at enormous discounts. You can also find good values looking for wines that are from neighboring regions to super-expensive wines, especially if you’re thinking about French wines. For instance, a wine from a classified growth chateau may be hundreds of dollars a bottle, but a wine produced a few hundred yards away from similar grapes can go for a fraction of that cost.

Feel free to use these ideas as a great way to either score cool gifts or try some higher-end stuff that you might not have had the opportunity to crack on your normal travels. Take advantage of this. Go to your wine store and ask your friendly neighborhood wine guide to show you some “special occasion” wines that they have on end-of-vintage sale and see what happens.

Great example – the Sweet Partner in Crime and I got hitched a couple of years ago on Dec. 10^th. As readers of this space know, we’ve been together awhile. Prior to our actual wedding, we’d used Dec. 18^th, the date of our first date, as our anniversary. So we wouldn’t have to choose, we deemed these eight days our “Channiversary.” For our celebration this year, The SPinC went looking for three bottles – one from 2001 (the year we met), one from 2009 (the year we tied the knot), and another bottle, because things work better in threes. Here’s what she came up with:

La Croix de Rameaux 2009 Brouilly – The SPinC is a sucker for Burgundy, so that’s what she asked about first. Burgundy from 2009 would be too young to drink now, but she was pointed in the direction of Beaujolais (which is, after all, in Burgundy). 2009 is, by all accounts, one of the best years in Beaujolais in history, and the cru Beaujolais are not only exceptional – they’re ready to drink right now! (A Beaujolais cru will have the name of its city instead of “Beaujolais” or “Beaujolais-Villages” on the label.) Many Beaujolais, including cru,  can be a little thin, but not this Brouilly. For a light red, this had an exceptionally friendly and layered fruit and acid balance. Lots of full cherry flavors and a smokiness that was more reminiscent of a Burgundy than a Beaujolais. It was good on its own, but it truly shined as a charcuterie wine. (Which was good, because we didn’t feel like cooking the night we opened it.) With the serrano ham (oh yes!), salami, and chorizo we’d laid out...all delicious. We found it was also especially good with goat cheese, a usually-challenging pairing. Just a lovely wine to munch with. Ordinarily $32, we got this one for about $24.

Il Bosco 2001 Cortona Syrah – Italian syrah? I think I’ve seen some of it blended into Super Tuscan wines, but I don’t remember it as a single varietal. Apparently more and more Italian winemakers are giving it a go but, until recently, these wines were much more a boutique purchase. This was the wine with the “Drink between” dates I mentioned above. Strike while the iron is still hot! Goodness, was this some tasty wine. My initial comment was “it smells more Italian than it tastes.” (Although I didn’t have much of a basis for comparison with syrah.)  The nose is lovely. Plums, flowers, and smoke. Lots of earthy blackberries and cherries on the palate with a hint of that underlying Italian chalkiness. There’s also some smoke that got amplified towards the end as the tannins kicked in, leaving coffee behind. Wonderfully complex. I’d certainly be interested in trying more straight syrah from Italy. For dinner, we had salt-crusted roasted leg of lamb. Heavenly pairing. Cut straight through the lamb’s fattiness, enhancing the rich flavors. Super. A $80-ish wine that ended up at around $35.

Chateau de Bellevue 2000 Lussac-St. Emilion – I readily admit that I don’t usually get Bordeaux. It’s just not one of those Old World wines that I generally crave the way that I do Burgundy or various Italian bottles. Just the same, a nearly 12-year old bottle has an appeal, and I’ve since learned that 2000 in St. Emilion was a historically good vintage. In retrospect, that little factoid makes perfect sense. We decided to open this with an attempt at making a more-or-less true cassoulet. (Mmm…rendered duck fat!) We got to cooking and I poured the wine into a decanter. Bordeaux are notoriously slow-breathing wines. After about an hour and a half, we decided to try a glass. Oy! Tannin bomb, coming in! This wine gave both of us lockjaw. We couldn’t speak. Heavy charcoal and graphite. We decided that it needed a little more time to open, and we had an hour or so before the cassoulet came out of the oven. In the interim, I swirled the hell out of what was left in my glass for awhile, and hooboy -- was I ever rewarded. The wine started to open beautifully. The nose exploded into herbs and chocolate covered cherries. The charcoal and graphite powered flavor mellowed into a much more pleasant balance of cherry and smoke. The finish went on and on and on. The wine continued to change over the course of the evening, yielding more and more complex flavors. This was the big deal about Bordeaux. 

With food? Ye gods. While waiting for the cassoulet to finish, we tried it with some “drunken” goat cheese. Absolutely outstanding. A true “eyes rolling back in your head” combination…at least until we finally got to the cassoulet. Heaven. There really aren’t words for how good this pairing was. We did a version of cassoulet with ham instead of sausage and smoked duck. The smokiness of the wine complemented the rich duck perfectly, while the tannins tamed the salt from the ham while cutting through the fat. We lingered over this meal and the last drops of wine in the decanter for a long, long time, savoring. Perfect pairings come along rarely – those French know what they’re doing with wine and casseroles, to be sure. Many 2000’s from St. Emilion currently run well over $100. This wine from the surrounding region? $30.

So go forth, find bargains, and enjoy your holidays! We’ll see you in 2012!

A Chill in the Air, Some Reds for your Glass

Can you feel the cool on the underside of the breeze? It’s a’comin, folks. Real fall weather. Red wine season. I personally go through a lot more white wine in the spring and summer, but when the leaves start to change – I load up on the rouge.
Recently, my wine-pal Danny and I led a wine tasting. Since autumn is descending, and many stores are already hanging their seasonal decorations, we thought we’d get a jump on the holiday season and do a full spread of red. We wanted to provide a few suggestions for the upcoming dinner party (and party in general) season. Whether you’re stocking the cellar or stuffing the stockings, snagging a case of most of the wines we poured wouldn’t set you back too far. All of them fall squarely into the “flexible food wine” or “slurpable party wine” categories. (Well, there was one deliciously notable exception…)
Have at ‘em:
Vina Borgia 2008 Garnacha – I’ve long been a big fan of this wine. It’s one of my go-to inexpensive bottles. It’s 100% Garnacha (or Grenache, if you prefer) from the Aragon region of Spain. You won’t find anything overly complicated here. You’ll pay six or seven dollars for a bottle and be rewarded with a nice nose of blackberries and spice, a body that’s medium weight with a good balance of dark fruit and pepper, and a nice firm finish. For the price, it’s one of the best balanced reds out there. It’s perfectly drinkable on its own or a good accompaniment with flavors from chicken to grilled meat. I think it’s great wine choice for a holiday table when you’re buying in bulk. The Vina Borgia is also available in a 1.5 liter bottle for around $12 or a 3 liter box for $18. Can’t beat it.
Vinterra 2010 Pinot Noir – One of the things I love about pinot noir is that the grape has a real sense of “place.” If you pour a California pinot, you’ll usually get bigger fruit flavors and higher levels of alcohol. Burgundies will be lighter and earthier tasting. New Zealand pinots, like this Vinterra, tend to be light, delicate critters. It’s a very pretty smelling wine – flowers, cherries, and strawberries are prominent. The body is extremely light for a pinot. By way of comparison, I’d put it at the same weight as a Beaujolais. This is another wine with very nice balance, giving you flavors of strawberry and cherry cola. The finish is gentle, drifting away on a mist of cherries. Like most pinot noirs, this wine basically goes with any food, and it’s a great wine to pull out if you have someone around who “doesn’t like red wine.” It’s almost impossible to find pinot noir this good at $15, but here you have it.
Ocaso 2008 Malbec – I wouldn’t want to write a column that extended through football season and the requisite manly grilling without throwing a masculine malbec in there. As I always say about malbec, anything you can drag across fire –veggie burgers to grilled mushrooms to a big ol’ ribeye – will snuggle right up to a tasty malbec. Argentinean wines remain some of the best values out there. As Danny said, “Take most wine from Argentina and double the price. That’s what you’ll pay for a comparable red from France or California.” Blackberries and coffee were my first thought when I got a slug of this one. It’s tannic, but not overly so, and it’s nice and muscular if you’re in the mood for something along those lines. I’ve read that it actually goes well with vegetables, too – but that wouldn’t be my first choice. You can find this for around $10-12. Ocaso also makes a malbec rosé that I poured next to the aforementioned Vinterra. The rosé ($8) is actually heavier, believe it or not.
Elvio Cogno 2007 Dolcetto D’Alba – If you’re looking to step outside the Chianti world for a relatively light Italian red, Dolcetto is a very nice alternative. Dolcetto translates as “little sweet one,” although this is hardly a sweet wine.. I thought this was a wine that was basically built to be passed around a dinner table – like most good Italian wines are. It’s got a fair amount of acidity, which allows the flavor to cut through almost anything with a red sauce, be it pasta, chicken parmesan, or brasciole. I recently poured this next to a roasted eggplant-and-red-pepper soup and it was simply divine. If you don’t like the “chalky” flavor that Chianti sometimes have, but you like the acidity and the full fruit flavors, this is a great choice. It’s around $15 and worth every penny if you’re cobbling together a little feast for friends.
Chateau de Bel 2009 Bordeaux – Bordeaux is one of the more vintage-dependent wines out there. Bordeaux from an “off year” can be overpriced and uninteresting. The 2009 vintage, however, apparently has the potential to be one of the great vintages in Bordeaux (and in much of the rest of France, as well). The quality even trickles down to the more inexpensive bottles, like this one from Chateau de Bel. This 90/10 merlot/cabernet blend is an impressive bottle, especially for $15. Intense fruits and a nice dose of the “old world funk” that I like so much in Bordeaux. A little tannic, a little oaky – it’s just a very solid all-around wine. For the Francophiles out there, consider squirreling away a few bottles of for five years or so. I’m very interested to see how this one develops over time. Or just lay out some rich cheeses, grilled pork chops, or some good stew. You’ll thank me later.
Domaine La Roquete 2007 Chateauneuf-de-Pape – Danny couldn’t resist being a showoff. He pulled this little gem to put the rest of our selections to shame. He said that if he were forced to only drink one kind of wine for the rest of his life, he’d choose Chateauneuf-de-Pape – which is a predominantly Grenache/Syrah blend from the town of the same name in the Rhone valley. This is one damned delicious wine. You may have heard wines described as “elegant.” This one falls squarely into that category. It’s a deeply layered wine. As you take successive sips, you’ll find different flavors emerging: currants, cherry, nutmeg, blackberry, and a backbone of nice earthiness. Chateauneuf-de-Pape is an expensive wine. You’ll often see this wine start at around $50-60 and go up from there. This one was under $40, and for my money – if you want to impress – this is a nice selection to have in your arsenal. Or have this one the day after your dinner party as you’re relaxing the next evening. Be selfish. You deserve it.

Rucking the Right Bank

Hand it to the folks at Planet Bordeaux. They’re a creative bunch.

As I’ve mentioned before, Planet Bordeaux is the marketing arm of the winemakers who produce Bordeaux and Bordeaux Supérieur wines. These are the wines that often get lost between the more inexpensive “vin de pays” table wines and the “classified growth” wines that can go for hundreds of dollars apiece. These mid-priced Bordeaux (which actually aren’t much more expensive than the vin de pays) are designed to be solid, everyday values. The Planet Bordeaux folks were looking for spokesmen. They found a bunch of unexpected takers – a bunch of loud, muddy, sweaty, normally beer-swilling men and women:

Planet Bordeaux is now an official sponsor of USA Rugby.

The Rugby World Cup will be held in New Zealand in September. Planet Bordeaux decided to support the Eagles (the US team, currently ranked 17^th in the world) on their path to the event. I was fascinated by this choice of sponsors, largely because after my remarkably brief and utterly unimpressive career as a rugger, wine was just about the last thing I associate with rugby. Beer, blood, public nudity, beer, and beer…sure.

Apparently, however, the Bordelais are absolutely bonkers about their rugby and at least some of them are willing to trade national loyalty for commerce and visibility. “Planet Bordeaux and the Eagles are both dedicated to excellence and contributing to the game of rugby beyond the field. The partnership will help to prepare the Eagles for their build up to the world’s largest rugby stage in September,” said USA Rugby CEO and President of Rugby Operations, Nigel Melville.

In celebration of this partnership, the good folks at Balzac sent me another set of Planet Bordeaux samples. My enthusiasm for these bottles was much greater than my desire to put on my old kit again. I’m much better gallivanting in front of a wine tasting than I am running for my life as an overmatched outside centerback.

Here’s the latest rundown:

Chateau Raynier 2006 Marc Lurton Bordeaux – This is an exceptionally easy-to-drink Bordeaux. It has the requisite earthiness and “vegetal” nature, but for the most part, it’s just smooth and balanced. The merlot and and cabernet grapes strike an accord, and you can uncork this one with any number of foods. In our case, we had it with some beef kabobs, also skewered with pineapple, tomato, mushrooms, onions, and green peppers. Also, a salad of greens and basil leaves with balsamic vinaigrette. At 12.5% alcohol, nice and light -- just uncomplicated, friendly, and pleasant. About $14.

Chateau Le Grand Verdus 2009 Bordeaux Rosé – The English translation of the back of the label reads: “Crisp, voluptuous, aperitif, fruity, femininity, passion, lustrous, relaxation, pleasure, fragrant, candy, warmth, temptation, intensity, seductive, summer, modern, raspberry, aromatic, energy…” (Jeez…I need a smoke…) While I won’t cop to every term on that list, I will say that this is an exceptionally pleasant rosé. Made from cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, and merlot – this is a hearty rosé with plenty of fruit and a pleasant minerality. We grilled turkey burgers alongside some mushroom and parmesan couscous and it went splendidly. Also was quite tasty on its own. An absolutely smashing deal at $9, as well.

Chateau Ballan-Larquette 2009 Bordeaux Blanc -- This one takes a hard but not unpleasant turn when you get to sipping on this one. It starts out with a very tart lemony zing, but quickly mellows into a nice balance of mineral and fruit, which further mellows and finishes creamily instead of acidically. Medium bodied for a white Bordeaux so it can handle some richer foods easily enough. We did mustard-and-pretzel crusted chicken breasts with some new potatoes sautéed with pancetta. Very tasty. Very interesting value and an excellent dinner white at $10-14.

Chai de Bordes 2008 Bordeaux Rouge – Cracking this one, the nose was floral, almost lavenderish to go along with some light berry scents. It’s light bodied and fairly acidic with a cherry and mineral flavor. The finish is quite dry –tannic, but not harshly so. Reminds me a little of a Montepulciano d’Abruzzo, actually. A very pleasant and approachable Bordeaux. $15-18.

Chateau du Cros 2009 Bordeaux Sauvignon – They call this a “field blend,” which is a blend of two grape varieties planted together in the same vineyard. In this case, it’s largely Sauvignon blanc with a little Semillon and Muscadelle thrown in. It starts you with a fairly strong nose of apples and lemons. I found it to be minerally and sharply acidic, like a shot of “lemon juice light.” Finishes slightly astringent. To me, it seemed like a Bordeaux winemaker was trying to make something that tasted like Italian pinot grigio and just missed. It’s a decent quaff and would go well with shellfish, especially raw ones, but at around $16, you could likely find a better sipper.

Chateau Le Calvaire 2007 Bordeaux Superieur – I didn’t really care much for this one at first sip. I opened it about three hours in advance and was hit with an “alcohol and grape”. As a little of the alcohol dissipated, however, the wine opened quickly. The Calvaire had a really interesting nose of graphite and blackberries. Fairly full-bodied. On the tongue, more of that mineral to go with a substantial dose of dark fruit and some tannins that linger for a half minute or more. A good, big choice for Bordeaux if you’re looking for something with a little more punch. It does seem to call for bitter and dark flavors alongside – grilled meat, dark chocolate – that kind of thing, especially after it’s been open for awhile (a day wouldn’t be bad, if you can wait that long). Pretty good deal at $16.

 

 

 

del.icio.us Tags: wine,USA rugby,Bordeaux,wine tasting

On Twitter Tastings, Multitasking, and Bordeaux

As a teenager, I was the Space-Age Whiz Kid. No video game could stand in my way. Me against the machine. Sparks flew from my fingers. Always played it clean. We’re talking the good old school stuff – Pac-Man, Defender, Donkey Kong, Star Castle, Gorf, et-fricking-wonderful-cetera. Vintage Tempest machines still tremble at the sound of my initials.

Then along came Street Fighter, NBA Jam (the original boomshakalaka), Contra and others – where learning the game and good reflexes weren’t enough. A player had to learn cheat codes, combos to unlock special powers, and so on. The playing field was no longer level. Just being quick and crafty wasn’t enough I lost interest quickly. (This disinterest also roughly coincided with getting my driver’s license and discovering how utterly awesome girls were, but that’s another story…)

There’s a time I realize something may have passed me by.

Fast forward a couple of decades. Mike Wangbickler of Balzac Communications offered me the opportunity to participate in the “Twitter Taste Live” event to commemorate the launching of the new Planet Bordeaux website. Planet Bordeaux, as I wrote about last fall, is the attempt to demythologize the wines of the Bordeaux region, which are intimidating to everyday wine drinkers. Their labels are usually a salad of chateaux, communes, and the occasional picture of a castle or farmhouse.

The Planet Bordeaux website (http://www.planet-bordeaux.com) provides information about most non-classified growth Bordeaux producers who export to the U.S., information about the wines, and such. I was sent five red “Bordeaux Superieur” bottles to try, all of which retail in the U.S. in the $14-20 range:

• Chateau La Gatte La Butte 2006
• Chateau de Lugagnac 2008
• Chateau de Terrefort-Quancard 2008
• Chateau de Parenchere Cuvee Raphael 2007
• Chateau Penin Tradition 2009

So, what’s a Twitter Tasting? Well, if you can imagine a bunch of wine geeks sitting in front of computers, tasting wine and sending out their thoughts in 140 character bursts, you’ve got yourself a pretty good idea. I’d done one other Twitter tasting before, but it was a fairly small affair. This was a much bigger deal, encompassing wine writers & bloggers from across the country along with the winemakers in Bordeaux (who must have been awfully sleepy – this started at 1am their time…)

Once “social media” made its way onto the Internets, I initially kept up pretty well. I had a MySpace page (maybe I still do…I haven’t looked at it in ages). I was a relatively early adopter on Facebook and was luckily able to avoid the allure of Farmville. Facebook largely replaced email for me for awhile. And, of course, there was my blog – which all of you obviously know about. But I didn’t get Twitter. Seriously – who’s going to put in the time and effort to catalog everything they’re seeing and doing…constantly? I have a Twitter feed (@thenakedvine, if you’re interested), but I don’t tweet often. I never got the urge to speak hashtag and I’ve never made anything a “trending topic.”

This apparently puts me in the distinct minority of the online wine writing community.

As the time of the tasting neared, the Sweet Partner in Crime opened the bottles and laid them out. I was looking forward to this. The sheer amount of information about Bordeaux and the ever-changing qualities of those wines confounded me. I was never able to get a basic flavor profile. I mean, I have a pretty good idea of what pinot noir from Burgundy tastes like compared to Oregon or Carneros, but Bordeaux was more challenging. Wines from a half mile apart taste radically different. The opportunity to do a side-by-side-by-side-by-side-by-side, I thought, would clear a lot of things up.

At the appointed hour, I logged into “Taste Live!” – the most popular hosting site for these events. I immediately felt like I’d stumbled into an old AOL chatroom. Comments were flying fast and furious from people snapping micro-reviews back and forth.

When I taste a wine for the column or just out and about, I like to be a little more methodical. I like to sit and contemplate for a bit if I’m really trying to get something from the wine. So, amidst the noise, I put forth what I thought was a pretty pithy comment…only to watch it quickly get shoved out of sight down the page.

I made a comment about one of the wines being overly smoky and was lambasted by a couple of people, one of which said I had a “n00b palate.” Comments like “You’re never a serious evaluator unless you spit” were common. Several of these folks clearly knew each other, so inside jokes flew like dandelion fluff (which was used by one person as a descriptor, along with “diced green pepper stems”). One person was likening wines to obscure songs. Perhaps a mid-level Bordeaux is just like Tool’s “Intension,” but I don’t get it. (What wine goes with “Friday,” since we’re on the subject?)

I was also trying to have a conversation with the SPinC, write down my thoughts on the wines, and watch a little March Madness at the same time. After a few minutes of this, I had a really hard time keeping up. I decided, eventually, just to do my best with occasional snippets from my tasting notes. Rapid-fire and swirling just don’t work as well for me. Even my ADHD has its limits, I discovered.

That’s not to say that I didn’t pick up quite a bit. These wines were all distinctly different. The Chateau La Gatte was chalky and tart, almost like a Chianti. It was hugely acidic, full of mineral, and tasted of “dirt-covered cherries” (which is not a negative in this household.) The Chateau de Lugagnac had a bigger nose and a heavier fruit flavor. The finish on this wine was very smoky (see my reference above), which wiped out the fruit. The Chateau de Terrefort-Quancard was my favorite overall. It was very approachable, nicely balanced, and easy to drink. There was plenty of fruit, earth, and smoke, all wrapped together in a lighter package. The Chateau de Parenchere Cuvee Raphael was #2 on my rankings. Again, well-balanced but big flavors of coffee, earth, and blackberry. It was also as good with chocolate as any Bordeaux. The Chateau Penin was our least favorite. It was too much of everything – too much alcohol, too much tar and smoke flavor, and an herbal (green pepper stems!) flavor that I didn’t find pleasant. Given it was a 2009, revisiting this in a year might not be a bad idea.

All in all, what did I learn?

1. Bordeaux is still confounding. If you’re going to experiment with Bordeaux, get to know the French wine expert at your wine store and ask a bunch of questions.
2. People who can taste wine and tweet at the same time impress me.
3. I officially now feel six seconds from “Get off my lawn!”
4. Frustrating as it was, I’d probably try this again – although I’d probably cheat a bit and taste the wines ahead of time. Maybe that’s the cheat I need to keep up with the kids…

Technorati Tags: wine review,Bordeaux,wine,video games

Drinking Honeyed Sunlight -- Sauternes

Close your eyes. Picture standing in the middle of a field of honeysuckle. Breathe in that scent. Now, imagine someone’s picked all of the flowers and drained the nectar into a glass, added a little apricot essence, and gave it to you to drink. Sip. Taste it. Let it sit on your tongue like a honey comforter. Swallow. Let the honey and fruit dissolve in your mouth for the next two or three minutes. Focus on the blissful. Then look at the bottle of Sauternes you’ve dropped some serious coin on and smile.
I really didn’t expect to spend $70 on a bottle of wine. Really.
I’m in the midst of putting together a three-part series of columns on wine and cheese, as you know. (If you’ve not read the entries on soft cheeses or hard cheeses yet, follow those links.) I was starting on the third – stinky cheeses. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I had the luxury of a rare free weekend during this crazy part of the year, so we had the opportunity to take an afternoon, relax, and gorge on wine and cheese. The cheeses we picked were Taleggio, Stilton, and Roquefort.
I have a great book, What to Drink with What You Eat, by Andrew Dornenburg and Karen Page. We call this our “Book of Armaments” for wine pairings. There have been a few times I’ve disagreed, but for“classic” pairings, they’re spot-on. They made some suggestions – the Taleggio called for an Italian red, which I didn’t want, so I went with Riesling; the Stilton’s classic was port; and the Roquefort – labeled in bold, all-caps, with an asterisk (translation – make sure to try before you die!) – was Sauternes.
I gulped a bit. Sauternes is a sweet, white wine made in Bordeaux from Semillon, Sauvignon Blanc, and Muscadelle grapes. Because of the climate in this region of France, there’s a fungus called Botrytis cinerea (also known as “noble rot”) that attaches itself to the grapes, causing them to partially raisinate while still on the vines. There’s not nearly as much juice. An entire vine might yield enough juice for a single glass of wine. The wines taste sweet and have basic flavors of apricot, peaches, and honey.
Because the yields are so small from the concentrated juice, Sauternes and other “botrytized” wines are ridiculously expensive. A bottle of Château d'Yquem (the most famous Sauternes producer) will set you back $200+. More “pedestrian” versions can be had for around $70.
Considering the high costs, just realize this wine exists because some lazy winemaker with baskets full of moldy grapes said, “Screw it…let’s press these bad boys and see what we come up with!”
I had no intention of purchasing a Sauternes. I’d consider a bottle a ridiculous luxury, since I’m not a huge fan of dessert wine. I couldn’t imagine dropping that kind of coin on a bottle that I wouldn’t just drink. I went back to the Book of Armaments and found that Riesling & late harvest Zinfandel were acceptable with the Roquefort.
A’wine-shopping I went. Picked up Riesling and headed over to the dessert wine aisle to get a bottle of tawny port. I snagged it and happened to glance at the next rack of bottles. There they were, the Sauternes, beckoning. The lowest price was $50 for a half bottle. I must have stared at these bottles for ten minutes until the epiphany came:
“Go big or go home.”
I picked out a bottle in the middling price range. Chateau Clos Haut-Peyraguey 2001 1er Cru Classé Sauternes. 2001 was the year the Sweet Partner in Crime met yours truly, so I was hoping that would be good karma.
There are maybe a dozen bottles of wine that have left me utterly speechless. The SPinC called it an “Apricot-honey flambé.” I simply closed my eyes, slowly rolled my head side to side like Stevie Wonder, contemplating the fruity silk explosion rolling across my palate.
I expect sweet wines to be syrupy. The Sauternes was certainly thick, but because the viscosity is from glycerol (a product of the noble rot) rather than excess sugar, it’s the sheer power of the fruit flavors themselves that create the sweetness.
We were both stunned but said that we couldn’t imagine just drinking a bottle of this by itself. Along came the cheeses and assorted noshables that were to complement the cheeses & the wines. The Roquefort and the Sauternes were every bit as heavenly as I thought it would be. Roquefort is a powerful blue cheese, but the Sauternes was strong enough to hold up solidly, deepening and accentuating as the thick wine and the creamy cheese worked together as a delightfully melty experience. The port was listed a classic pairing with the Stilton, but something about the combination of the Stilton & pears with the honey of the Sauternes was one of the most unique, wonderful flavor combinations I’ve tried.
Then came the topper. The “perfect pairing” with Sauternes is foie gras, which is goose or duck liver paté. Not exactly something you can snag at Kroger, but I was able to find a substitute that was slightly less expensive and close enough. I first tried it spread on a cracker, but the flavor was cut too much – then I tried it again…just a big hunk of the paté, followed by the Sauternes. I almost fell over in delight.
The combination of those flavors – sweet, savory, salty, bitter, sour, fruit, meat, depth. Like perfectly cooked steak and cabernet, the sensation cements the fact that I can’t be a vegetarian. This pairing was nothing short of sexy, causing me to blurt out:
“Holy crap! That tastes like sex feels!”
This was a major moment of blissful exaggeration, and I’m lucky not to have received a well-placed backhand from the Sweet Partner in Crime. Seriously, it tasted naughty. Foodgasm.
Sauternes isn’t going to make my regular wine rotation anytime soon. We go through a lot of wine, and Sauternes is too delicious to be anything but savored. I also have no idea where this Sauternes ranks on the “absolute scale of Sauternes,” and I don’t care. We wrapped ourselves in unexpected decadence for a glorious evening.
More please.

Planet Bordeaux (Syndicate, Fool!)

Mike Wangbickler of Balzac Communications recently gave me the opportunity to get a first look at “Planet Bordeaux” – the new marketing project by winemakers in the Bordeaux region. The project’s mission is to help people realize they can afford Bordeaux wines of quality without either leasing their first-born or slugging the scrapings from the bottom of fermenting tanks. “Folks can afford Bordeaux as an everyday wine. It doesn’t just have to be for collectors,” said Mike.

First off, a quick review of Bordeaux wine. Bordeaux is arguably the most famous French wine region (the argument would come from their Burgundian neighbors). Some of the most expensive and sought after wines in the world call this slice of France home. Red Bordeaux is always a blend of cabernets sauvignon and franc, merlot, petit verdot, and malbec. White Bordeaux is a blend of sauvignon blanc and semillon.

Red Bordeaux, even though they’re a mix of some varietals that we may think of as heavy, tend to be lighter-styled, tannic reds. Even inexpensive Bordeaux can have complexity to the flavor. There’s usually an earthy or “cigar box” aroma and flavor along with the dark fruit, and finishes that are long and tannic. White Bordeaux usually are quite acidic, minerally, and have floral or herbal scents and flavors. They’re also usually very light in color. The deeper colored whites have more Semillon and tend to be heavier.

The mystery, allure, and frustrations of Bordeaux can often be traced back to the caste system for wines. In 1855, a “ranking system” for French wines was developed based on terroir, winemaking quality, overt and covert bribery, etc. The “best” single vineyard chateaux were classified into five “growths” – the Premier Crus are Chateau LaTour, Chateau Margaux, Chateau Haut-Brion, and Chateaux Lafite and Mouton Rothschild.

Below these are the AOC wines – wines from a certain region. These are your regional wines – Chateaux that can call themselves “Bordeaux” but aren’t in the “growth” rankings. The grapes must be grown in Bordeaux, but they come from one chateau or commune’s holdings, although they’re not necessarily single vineyard products. These tend to be a step below the “classed growths,” but are still considered from reasonably to really good wine. You know you’re looking at one of these wines if you see the following words on the bottle:

• Bordeaux Rouge (Red) AOC
• Bordeaux Supérieur Rouge AOC
• Bordeaux Rosé AOC
• Bordeaux Clairet (Dark Rosé) AOC
• Bordeaux Blanc (White) AOC
• Bordeaux Supérieur Blanc AOC
• Cremant de Bordeaux (Sparkling) AOC

Below AOC is “Vin de Pays” – a region’s “table wine.” Vin de Pays simply means that the grapes are grown anywhere in that region, but they can be from anywhere therein.

So, the top grade goes for hundreds of dollars a bottle. Collectors hoard these. Thus, there’s always a demand. The vin de pays can be found anywhere. It’s inexpensive. Thus, there’s always a demand. The AOC wines, trapped in the middle, were faced with quite a quandary. These wines are quite a cut in quality above the vin de pays, but many aren’t much more expensive. Imagine you’re a winemaker and you’re putting together quality product, could make a profit with a relatively low price point, and are still a really good deal in any case. If you could only get the word out – people would snap it up, right?

Enter the Byzantine (or would that be Gallic?) world of French wine law. There are restrictions on marketing. Chateaux and communes cannot partner to market their wines. They have to work individually, for the most part. So, not surprisingly, the Chateaux with the most cash get the most run in the press, since they can afford the publicity. The best selling AOC red Bordeaux is Mouton-Cadet – a little side project of Chateau Mouton Rothschild. You can find that Bordeaux almost anywhere. It’s almost as ubiquitous as Duboeuf’s Beaujolais.

So, along comes Syndicat Viticole des appellations controlees Bordeaux et Bordeaux Supérieur, also known as the Bordeaux Syndicate (not to be confused with Rhyme Syndicate). The entire region figured that since they can’t market against each other – they’d market alongside each other! “Planet Bordeaux” (online at http://www.planete-bordeaux.eu/) followed.

Thanks to Mike and Balzac, I was able to procure a few of the Syndicate’s samples. We had three bottles – one white and two red. Thoughts? First up, the white:

Château Thieuley 2009 Bordeaux Blanc ($14) – We opened this one weekend afternoon when we just needed something good to sip on. I was surprised at the nose on this wine. I expected more citrus, but I got a lot of melon scents and some yeast. The taste – it’s a nicely balanced flavor of thick citrus and mineral. The finish is soft and lingers for a bit with a touch of acidity. This wine probably deserved a dinner pairing, but hey – we were thirsty! “You can tell it’s not top line white Bordeaux, but it’s very drinkable,” commented the Sweet Partner in Crime. We moved on to the reds:

Château du Lort 2006 Bordeaux Rouge ($13)

Château Mirambeau Papin 2006 Bordeaux Supérieur Rouge ($20)

The difference between Rouge and Supérieur Rouge? The latter come from older vines as a rule, and they also must be in bottle for at least a year before release.

One tip: Bordeaux Reds MUST be decanted. The young ones need decanting to smooth their edges. The old ones need it to open up all of their potential yummy goodness. The contrast in both these wines was pretty remarkable once we let them sit for a bit. We tried them on their own first.

The “standard” had only a slight “Old World funk” on the nose -- more of a fresh-cut wood and some blackberry. The body starts almost tartly and hangs in there before transitioning into a tannic, graphite like finish that’s moderate. Not very earthy, if you like that kind of thing. The Supérieur had much better balance. The extra time in barrel smoothed off some of the tartness and gave it a “broader” nose – some earth, some fruit, some wood. The taste was quite pleasant, not too powerful or earthy, and with a nice transition of blackberry and cherry into tannins that hang in gently for awhile.

With some lamb loin chops, the standard red actually did quite well. The lamb calmed down the tannins and cut down on the edges of the tartness. The flavor became brighter and fruitier and turned into a nice contrast. After a few sips and bites, the Supérieur emerged as a dark, fruity sidecar.The Supérieur’s subtler flavor merged much more as an “alongside” flavor than the “standing out” flavor of the standard red.

After a couple of hours, they continued to evolve. The regular became “brighter” – with almost a floral bit on the nose. The Supérieur became deeper and darker, adding plums and tar to the nose, The regular red’s sharp edges smoothed and the wine balanced much more. Even so, I personally thought the Supérieur was a better wine all around.

Marketing or not, I think anyone who’s really interested in learning about wines owes it to themselves to form a decent idea of a region’s style and flavor. These AOC wines from Bordeaux give a nice window into those profiles, so these would all be good “starter” wines to help you develop a true sense of a) whether you even like these wines and b) whether you want to explore some more.

Technorati Tags: Bordeaux

Planet Bordeaux (Syndicate, Fool!)

Mike Wangbickler of Balzac Communications recently gave me the opportunity to get a first look at “Planet Bordeaux” – the new marketing project by winemakers in the Bordeaux region. The project’s mission is to help people realize they can afford Bordeaux wines of quality without either leasing their first-born or slugging the scrapings from the bottom of fermenting tanks. “Folks can afford Bordeaux as an everyday wine. It doesn’t just have to be for collectors,” said Mike.

First off, a quick review of Bordeaux wine. Bordeaux is arguably the most famous French wine region (the argument would come from their Burgundian neighbors). Some of the most expensive and sought after wines in the world call this slice of France home. Red Bordeaux is always a blend of cabernets sauvignon and franc, merlot, petit verdot, and malbec. White Bordeaux is a blend of sauvignon blanc and semillon.

Red Bordeaux, even though they’re a mix of some varietals that we may think of as heavy, tend to be lighter-styled, tannic reds. Even inexpensive Bordeaux can have complexity to the flavor. There’s usually an earthy or “cigar box” aroma and flavor along with the dark fruit, and finishes that are long and tannic. White Bordeaux usually are quite acidic, minerally, and have floral or herbal scents and flavors. They’re also usually very light in color. The deeper colored whites have more Semillon and tend to be heavier.

The mystery, allure, and frustrations of Bordeaux can often be traced back to the caste system for wines. In 1855, a “ranking system” for French wines was developed based on terroir, winemaking quality, overt and covert bribery, etc. The “best” single vineyard chateaux were classified into five “growths” – the Premier Crus are Chateau LaTour, Chateau Margaux, Chateau Haut-Brion, and Chateaux Lafite and Mouton Rothschild.

Below these are the AOC wines – wines from a certain region. These are your regional wines – Chateaux that can call themselves “Bordeaux” but aren’t in the “growth” rankings. The grapes must be grown in Bordeaux, but they come from one chateau or commune’s holdings, although they’re not necessarily single vineyard products. These tend to be a step below the “classed growths,” but are still considered from reasonably to really good wine. You know you’re looking at one of these wines if you see the following words on the bottle:

• Bordeaux Rouge (Red) AOC
• Bordeaux Supérieur Rouge AOC
• Bordeaux Rosé AOC
• Bordeaux Clairet (Dark Rosé) AOC
• Bordeaux Blanc (White) AOC
• Bordeaux Supérieur Blanc AOC
• Cremant de Bordeaux (Sparkling) AOC

Below AOC is “Vin de Pays” – a region’s “table wine.” Vin de Pays simply means that the grapes are grown anywhere in that region, but they can be from anywhere therein.

So, the top grade goes for hundreds of dollars a bottle. Collectors hoard these. Thus, there’s always a demand. The vin de pays can be found anywhere. It’s inexpensive. Thus, there’s always a demand. The AOC wines, trapped in the middle, were faced with quite a quandary. These wines are quite a cut in quality above the vin de pays, but many aren’t much more expensive. Imagine you’re a winemaker and you’re putting together quality product, could make a profit with a relatively low price point, and are still a really good deal in any case. If you could only get the word out – people would snap it up, right?

Enter the Byzantine (or would that be Gallic?) world of French wine law. There are restrictions on marketing. Chateaux and communes cannot partner to market their wines. They have to work individually, for the most part. So, not surprisingly, the Chateaux with the most cash get the most run in the press, since they can afford the publicity. The best selling AOC red Bordeaux is Mouton-Cadet – a little side project of Chateau Mouton Rothschild. You can find that Bordeaux almost anywhere. It’s almost as ubiquitous as Duboeuf’s Beaujolais.

So, along comes Syndicat Viticole des appellations controlees Bordeaux et Bordeaux Supérieur, also known as the Bordeaux Syndicate (not to be confused with Rhyme Syndicate). The entire region figured that since they can’t market against each other – they’d market alongside each other! “Planet Bordeaux” (online at http://www.planete-bordeaux.eu/) followed.

Thanks to Mike and Balzac, I was able to procure a few of the Syndicate’s samples. We had three bottles – one white and two red. Thoughts? First up, the white:

Château Thieuley 2009 Bordeaux Blanc ($14) – We opened this one weekend afternoon when we just needed something good to sip on. I was surprised at the nose on this wine. I expected more citrus, but I got a lot of melon scents and some yeast. The taste – it’s a nicely balanced flavor of thick citrus and mineral. The finish is soft and lingers for a bit with a touch of acidity. This wine probably deserved a dinner pairing, but hey – we were thirsty! “You can tell it’s not top line white Bordeaux, but it’s very drinkable,” commented the Sweet Partner in Crime. We moved on to the reds:

Château du Lort 2006 Bordeaux Rouge ($13)
Château Mirambeau Papin 2006 Bordeaux Supérieur Rouge ($20)
The difference between Rouge and Supérieur Rouge? The latter come from older vines as a rule, and they also must be in bottle for at least a year before release.
One tip: Bordeaux Reds MUST be decanted. The young ones need decanting to smooth their edges. The old ones need it to open up all of their potential yummy goodness. The contrast in both these wines was pretty remarkable once we let them sit for a bit. We tried them on their own first.

The “standard” had only a slight “Old World funk” on the nose -- more of a fresh-cut wood and some blackberry. The body starts almost tartly and hangs in there before transitioning into a tannic, graphite like finish that’s moderate. Not very earthy, if you like that kind of thing. The Supérieur had much better balance. The extra time in barrel smoothed off some of the tartness and gave it a “broader” nose – some earth, some fruit, some wood. The taste was quite pleasant, not too powerful or earthy, and with a nice transition of blackberry and cherry into tannins that hang in gently for awhile.

With some lamb loin chops, the standard red actually did quite well. The lamb calmed down the tannins and cut down on the edges of the tartness. The flavor became brighter and fruitier and turned into a nice contrast. After a few sips and bites, the Supérieur emerged as a dark, fruity sidecar.The Supérieur’s subtler flavor merged much more as an “alongside” flavor than the “standing out” flavor of the standard red.

After a couple of hours, they continued to evolve. The regular became “brighter” – with almost a floral bit on the nose. The Supérieur became deeper and darker, adding plums and tar to the nose, The regular red’s sharp edges smoothed and the wine balanced much more. Even so, I personally thought the Supérieur was a better wine all around.

Marketing or not, I think anyone who’s really interested in learning about wines owes it to themselves to form a decent idea of a region’s style and flavor. These AOC wines from Bordeaux give a nice window into those profiles, so these would all be good “starter” wines to help you develop a true sense of a) whether you even like these wines and b) whether you want to explore some more.

La soirée française paresseuse

[Rough translation: The slothful French evening]

Like just about every other foodie we know, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I went to see the now-ubiquitous "Julie & Julia." We enjoyed the movie quite a bit, especially the parts about Julia Child's background. Afterwards, we promptly rented some old The French Chef DVD's from Netflix and snagged a copy of Mastering the Art of French Cooking.

[Side note: I read the book on our honeymoon and discovered that most of the "Julia parts" were additions when the screenplay was adapted...and that Julie was hardly the cute little junebug Amy Adams portrayed. Still, both the book and movie portray the ultimate fantasy for bloggers...getting "discovered," garnering a huge following, and getting our words read widely.]

So, with this experience in our heads, we decided to do a French-themed New Year's Eve. (If you're not familiar with our little tradition, see here, here, and here.) Unfortunately, some family health issues called the SPinC out of town for the couple of days where we ordinarily did our prep. I figured she'd be exhausted when she got home and wouldn't be in any semblance of mental space to want to cook -- but I sure as shootin' wanted to keep our ritual rolling. So, the SPinC's worst nightmare came to pass -- Mike alone in the kitchen for an extended period of time. This usually leads to a good percentage of the household's pots and pans being used at least once, a few sauce and oil splatters in hard-to-reach places, and a somewhat stickier floor than when she left.

I did my best to keep things tidy. Really I did.

Here was the menu for the afternoon & evening:

• Course #1 -- Potato & Leek Soup; Chateau Riviere-Lacoste 2006 Bordeaux Blanc
• Course #2 -- Steamed King Crab Legs; Domaine Chanson 2007 Chablis
• Course #3 -- Boeuf Bourguignon; Moray St. Denis 2004 Bourgogne
• Course #4 -- Cherry Clafoutis; Piper-Heidsieck Brut Rose Sauvage

Courses #1 and 3 were from Julia Child's book. Steamed crab is pretty straightforward, and the clafoutis was a recipe I poked around the Internets to discover. Now, so you don't think that we're even more shamelessly gluttonous than we clearly are -- our little "meal" took place over the course of an afternoon and evening. We got the party rolling around 2, once the SPinC had a chance to get home, go for a run to clear her head, and get into appropriate loungewear for the day.

I never knew much about leeks for most of my life. I'm addicted to the bloomin' things now. I put them in as many recipes as I can find for them. This soup, classically French, has such a remarkable flavor -- which is amazing because it's really just leeks, potatoes, water, salt, pepper, some butter, and parsley. But it's SO good. I feared the white Bordeaux might be too light for a soup like this one, but the acidity and minerality made a lovely balance.

A couple of hours later, we moved on to the crab legs. I'd initially thought about doing a lobster for this course, but neither of us really felt like committing arthropodicide on New Year's. We let someone else do the dirty work for us and stuck to king crab, which was plenty rich and tasty enough for us. A little drawn butter alongside, we cracked the Chablis which we snagged at the dinner at the Phoenix a few months ago. Chablis & shellfish is a heaven-sent pairing, and we certainly were not disappointed.

A job well done...

We gave ourselves some digestion time as we listened to some jazz and then watched Duke's utter detonation of the Penn Quakers as an interlude. During the second half, I put the Bourguignon on to simmer itself to proper warmth. By game's end, we were ready to go. I'd opened the Moray a few hours before to let it breathe. We dished it up and headed to the table. Now, I'll admit -- I was a little bit skeptical of the recipe. I wondered why you just wouldn't throw everything in a slow cooker and turn it loose. After all, it's just beef stew, right?

Wrong. There's something about the way that the flavors from the various steps of cooking marry that you end up with waves of flavors coming at you from any number of directions. Throw in the smoky loveliness of a very very good pinot noir, and it's a pretty magical dining experience.

Admittedly, I did tweak the recipe a bit -- basically amping up the various levels of spice. For instance, the original recipe calls for 1 tablespoon of salt for the entire dish. Only a dash? Balderdash. I also had some new potatoes, which I quartered and added, rather than doing boiled potatoes on the side.]

In a nod to our advancing ages, we ended up admittedly taking a nap at this point to get ourselves up until midnight. We made it in time to crack open the Champagne and dig into the clafoutis.

Now, I'd not even attempted a dessert like that (pies and pastries are the SPinC's bailiwick) -- and if I were to do it again, I'd probably have used a slightly larger baking dish -- just so it would have cooked a little more quickly, but I was pretty pleased with the result. We used cherries from our year's harvest from the tree in the backyard, and they overwhelmed the subtlety in the Champagne (a rosé Champagne at that) -- so we finished the two up separately before clinking glasses at midnight and smiling at another New Year's well done.