The Quasi-Outdoorsy

Overlooking the simple pleasure of a getaway is far too easy.

The Sweet Partner in Crime treated me to a weekend vacation at Natural Bridge State Park to celebrate my birthday. We had a rough agenda. Sleep in on Friday, get up at our leisure, and head down to Lexington to catch the last day of Keeneland. (I ended up breaking even on the day, thanks to a strong ride by a 10-1 longshot from Devil Eleven Stables bred by an old classmate of mine.)

After good times at the track, we headed down the Mountain Parkway to Slade. We stopped at Miguel's, one of the best little pizza joints you'll ever stumble across and unofficial community center to the "climber's commune" behind the place. We picked up a pizza and a salad there and headed for our cabin in the park.

We had a little mix-up at check-in. We opened up our cabin -- only to find someone else's bags already in the bedroom, newspaper in the kitchen. We called the front desk. I explained to the high-schoolish sounding attendant the situation and (after she asked "Are you serious?" and "Are you sure? Did you just check in?") said that she could get us another cabin. We went back to the lodge and received an apology and new keys from the manager. We ended up, by chance, in the same cabin where we did the Riesling tasting last year.

We settled in, finally able to enjoy the yumminess from Miguel's. Our need for bubbly with pizza is well documented, so we'd brought along a bottle of Royal St. Vincent Brut for the occasion (Usually around $15, found on sale for $10). The bubbly was crisp, dry, and had a little yeasty character. It tasted wonderful after a day in the sun and was simply delicious with the pizza.

The SPinC and I are what you might deem "quasi-outdoorsy." We love being outside, enjoy taking hikes, and think of ourselves as relatively adventurous -- but at the end of the day, rather than pitch a flimsy tent and sleep on roots and rocks, we'd much rather return to our cabin, shower, and cook a good meal in a fully-equipped kitchen. Some of you might consider that cheating, but hey...it's our vacation!

So, what did we bring along on this little jaunt of ours? Well, for general consumption after hikes and the like -- our old standard Redcliffe 2006 Sauvignon Blanc found its way into the fridge. For our evening chocolate consumption, we had a bottle of Benjamin Tawny Port from Australia ($10-13). An inexpensive port, it's got a strong but not overpowering sweetness, lots of flavors of vanilla and fruit, and a delicious finish. At the price, you probably won't find anything that can touch it.

The port also played itself into the meal we cooked on Saturday. We fired up the grill to cook some cardamom-and-balsamic marinated ostrich steaks. The ostrich was free-range raised by a colleague of mine at work (who, sadly, is getting out of the business). I'm a huge fan of the stuff, and if you haven't tried it -- it tastes like steak with the fat content of chicken. We did foil packets of vegetables and some boiled new potatoes. As a side, we diced a big apple and cooked it down with beef broth, the port, some honey, and more balsamic. Unearthly good as a chutneyish topping. Dessert was a couple of grilled pineapple rings, topped with more of the apple and port sauce.

To drink, I rolled the dice and tried a California meritage called Beauzeaux from BV ($9-12). 2005 was the first year of this blend, which has a Zinfandel base and includes juice from seven other grapes. It was nothing fancy -- just a straightforward, somewhat juicy red wine. Honestly, I wouldn't have wanted anything overly complicated with this dinner. There were so many fantastic flavors in the food that I was happy for the wine to stand at attention in a friendly fashion. For that purpose, it worked well enough as a complement. (Although I wouldn't recommend it with the pineapple.)

The rest of the weekend when we weren't eating? Other than a couple of wonderful walks in the woods (and with the slow spring we've had, we were right in the "wildflower wheelhouse" -- just beautiful colors) -- we didn't do much. We sat on the porch and watched the wind blow. We napped. We channel-surfed mindlessly (although the SPinC was fascinated by "Flip this House.") We talked and laughed. We relaxed. We slept like babies.

No email. No Internet. No cell phone service. We noticed that this was the first time in a long time that we weren't doing something. Both of us are really busy in our regular lives, and even when we have time at home -- we're usually doing something social, or catching up on watching shows, or we're checking email, or doing things for work, or running errands, or writing, or something that requires one or the other of us to be focused on something.

This weekend stood in stark contrast. Doing nothing, not plugged in for a couple of days -- not feeling the urge to be connected to people outside the room and the moment -- that peace was a luxury and a gift. No, we weren't completely "off the grid," but it was enough. The weekend gave us both nice recharge and a powerful reminder of just how easy it is to get caught up in the flow of what we find important in the "real world."

When did solitude become hedonistic?

The House Wine Evolution

I was recently asked, "So…Wine Guy…what wines do you usually have just sitting around to drink at home?"

Aside from the sheepish little grin I still get when someone calls me "Wine Guy," the question got me thinking. Honestly, there hasn't been much of anything resembling a "house wine" around the Vineyard for quite awhile. One of the upsides to this wine thing is that there's usually something new around to try. One of the few downsides? It's possible to lose sight of a "favorite" everyday wine.

(If you remember, the general answer to "What's your favorite wine?" is "Whatever's open.")

Digging back through the foggy mists of memory, there was a time not too long ago when there were standard, inexpensive wines purchased pretty consistently 'round here...before the daze of regular wine tastings and regular worship of Most Things Sonoma.

One move and two jobs ago, I usually kept a bottle of Rosemount Estates Shiraz-Cabernet around. When I started courting the Sweet Partner in Crime, I started buying the 1.5 liter bottles instead of the standard size. I revisited Rosemount's 2005 vintage this week for old time's sake. Rosemount's wines usually fall into the "pop tart wine" category, as many of their offerings are pretty indistinguishable from other inexpensive Aussie wines. Unlike most cheap Aussie Shiraz, this wine has a little more depth and character. The nose is very fruity, as you'd expect. The body is full of blackberries and cherries with a nice smoky undertone. The finish is fruity. It's very nice to drink just sitting around, and the smokiness makes it a better than average choice for barbecues and the like. Burgers and chocolate each go hand in hand here. Look to pay $6-9 for a 750ml, but you might as well splurge at around $12 for a big bottle.

Drinking wine with the SPinC opened my eyes to, among other things, three important observations. First, she introduced me to a set of oversized wine glasses she'd break out at the slightest provocation. Learning about proper-sized drinking implements is key to proper tasting. Second, I learned never to leave a full wine glass on a low table if Jessie (the lovable chocolate lab armed with the Furious Tail of Utter Carnage) were nearby. Third, I learned that it's socially acceptable to drink white wine. I almost exclusively drank reds before we started dating. She almost always had a bottle of Meridian Chardonnay on hand when I would stop by. The vintage in the store right now is the 2006. It's still a pretty decent quaff. The nose is melony with some oaky scent. I remember Meridian being much oakier in the past, but they've dialed that flavor back a good deal, leaving a much better balance between the oak and fruit. It's certainly on the oaky side of the "oak vs. butter" competition. It's quite pleasant on the finish, too -- nice fruit and a lingering smoky flavor. At $5-7, it's a great deal.

The closest thing to a "house wine" we currently have is the nearly-everpresent 1.5 liter bottle of Redcliffe 2006 Sauvignon Blanc in the fridge. One of my favorite finds of the last year or so, this is a good solid everyday wine. I wrote about this wine in my recent article in Cincinnati Magazine. It's from New Zealand (where they make my many of my favorite Sauvignon Blancs). The nose is full of grapefruits and peaches. The body is crisp with lots of grapefruit flavor and the finish is nice and crisp, making it both a great sipping wine and a "what do we have that will go with this?" food pairing wine. A 1.5 liter bottle can be had for around $12.

"But wait, Wine Guy," you're saying, "You told us not to drink wine straight out of the fridge! You can't taste the flavors!" Very true...but I learned a neat little trick. Pour a glass of wine chilled to fridge temperature. Put the glass in a microwave for 10 seconds -- no more. Ten seconds in a microwave takes the chill off the wine, leaving it at practically the perfect temperature without harming the flavors.

(As the SPinC aptly pointed out, "Um...couldn't you just leave the wine out on the counter for a few minutes?" Of course you could -- but what's the fun in that?)

So, what wines do you keep around on a regular basis for everyday drinking? Inquiring vines want to know.

End of Year Clearance!

The slide from Thanksgiving to New Year's is not just party season. It's also "DOORBUSTER DEALS SEASON!!!" How much footage have we seen of people lined up outside Best Buy at 4 am to snag a $50 Wii, outside a Hummer dealership for a free year of gasoline with the purchase of an H3, or outside K-Mart for a three-for-one pack of apple corers.

Aside from simply getting people into stores to flail about in a sea of crass Christmas commercialism, why do merchants go to all this trouble?

Inventory, of course. At year's end, old merchandise gets cleared out to make room for next year's styles, versions, colors, editions, etcetera. What's the best way to clear some space? Why, a sale, of course! Offer sharp discounts to get overwilling consumers to cart away your excess.

Wine stores are like the aforementioned car dealerships. This year's models are still on the lot when automakers prepare to ship next year's, so dealerships offer "end-of-model-year" closeouts. As wineries crank out vintages, the previous year's wines need to get moved off the shelves. The end of the year is a great time to pick up great values. Some things to keep in mind:

• Large wine producers deal in volume, so stores will have more product to sell before the next year's shipment comes in. You're more likely to find good deals on more common labels. These producers want to keep fresh product on the shelves

• Look for wines that need to be drunk soon. Not long ago, I found a Bordeaux that was normally about a $25 bottle on sale for $10. It was a 2000 -- so it might last a little while longer, but this particular type was at the height of drinkability and would be heading south soon, more than likely. I bought five bottles and went through them pretty quickly.

• In general, look for merlots, zinfandels, pinot noirs, and almost any white wines. You'll also find some cabernets and Italian wines that are nearing the end of their drinking peak that you can snap up cheaply.

This is also a great time to try some wines that would typically be a little more expensive than what you would normally get -- you'll be able to see if they're worth a splurge later on. Here are a few end-of-year sale wines that dropped themselves neatly into Vine range:

Ravenswood 2004 Old Vine Zinfandel -- Picked this up for $11, down from $17. I normally don't think of Zinfandels as "elegant," but this was as close as I've found. Rather than the usual 2x4 of fruit across the tongue, the Ravenswood is surprisingly restrained. There's a nice, not overwhelming, fragrance of plums and berries on the nose. The palate has some nice fruit also, but it's not as jammy as many Zins. Instead, there's a nice balance of fruit and tannin -- almost like a cabernet. The finish is also less fruity and more complex than I've run into with Ravenswood and many similar wines. Very pleasant.

Wente 2005 "Morning Fog" Chardonnay -- Wente Cellars made the first wine in California labeled as Chardonnay, and they're a very solid mid-line producer. This wine is normally around $18 a bottle. I got this one for $13. This full-bodied chardonnay starts you with a well-balanced nose of toasted oak and vanilla. The flavor is rich, a little citrusy, and oaky. The finish is long and a bit crisp for a chardonnay. Unlike many California chardonnays (which generally aren't my favorites) -- this one balances fruit, oak, and richness nicely. I enjoyed it.

Francis Coppola 2005 "Diamond Series Silver Label" Pinot Noir -- Honestly, I've stayed away from Coppola wines. I haven't done it because I've not liked them, but there's something about someone famous doing a "second career" as a winemaker that gave me pause. (I haven't tried any of the Greg Norman wines for a similar reason.) I figured that these might be overpriced, leaning on the Coppola name, but this one was $14, down from $20 -- so I figured, "Why not?" and I was pleasantly surprised. This is a very fragrant wine -- scents of strawberries, cherries, and something like leather. The body is very full for a pinot. A friend of mine once talked about how much he liked "chewy" pinots, and this one certainly fits the bill. Lots of berries and currant flavors, finishing with a thick, slightly dry flavor. A really nice pinot.

So, there you have it -- now is the time to try some of those wines you've thought about but thought they were just a tad too expensive. Get out there and Save! Save! Save!

(Hat tip to co-worker Kristan, her friend Emily, and the Sweet Partner in Crime for the column inspiration.)

Whatever Will Be, Will Be...Petite Sirah

Our neighbors Jeff and Christine joined us for dinner recently to celebrate Christine's brief return to the neighborhood. She'd been spending some time in (and would be returning to) Texas to help her sister her newborn young'un. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I put together a spread, and as the evening wore on, the wines we'd selected started to run a bit low.

I headed to the rack and pulled a bottle of Petite Sirah I'd picked out on a whim a few days before. I poured us a few glasses. Christine asked what it was. I told them and the two of them simultaneously broke into song:

"Petite Sirah, Sirah…whatever will be, will be…this wine tastes so good to me…Petite Sirah, Sirah…"

We all thought it was pretty daggone funny. Of course, this was our fifth bottle of the evening…

In any case, back to the wine. Petite Sirah (sometimes called Petite Syrah, Petit Sirah, or Durif) is a completely different grape varietal than Syrah. The grape was first cloned in France in the late 1800's by one...wait for it...Dr. Durif. He crossed a syrah grape with a French varietal called Peloursin and voila! This grape found its way to California, where it discovered its main home. It largely grows in the Napa/Sonoma area, France and, somewhat surprisingly, Israel.

When we made our first big wine trip to Sonoma, we experienced petit sirah for the first time at our first tasting at our B&B. This powerfully flavored wine opened our eyes to the notion that there was a heck of a lot we didn't know. The rest is history.

Petite Sirahs are generally big, inky reds that are often intensely fragrant. They're often quite tannic and can age for years. Petite Sirah was considered a "boutique" wine for many years. More and more of them are now finding their way into the general marketplace. Foodwise, they often pair with any kind of roasted meat, game, earthy vegetables and (sweet heaven) they're wonderful wines to have with chocolate. They should be decanted for awhile after opening, in general. They need a little time and some good swirling to open up. But once they do, they can be, in the words of a friend of mine, "total ass kickers."

If you're a fan of Syrah and Zinfandel, it's certainly worth trying a couple of bottles.

Bogle 2005 Petit Sirah -- I've long been a fan of Bogle, even though I haven't reviewed many of them for the column. They're generally solid, dependable reds. They didn't let us down with the Petit Sirah. This one has a big nose of plums and, believe it or not, apple pie. The body is quite big, and the fruit's pretty bold. The finish starts fruity, but then turns quickly dry and hangs on for a good long while. $9-11.

Oak Grove 2005 Petite Sirah Reserve -- This was the wine which caused the spontaneous post-gustatory singing. As I've mentioned, this varietal has a number of different spellings. This apparently caused their label writer to fall victim to synonym trouble. The label states that fruit flavors "explode on the pallet." If this were truly the case, Oak Grove's warehouses must be a mess. The wine itself is fruity, although not as strong as the Bogle. The SPinC thought it was more subtle than many petite sirahs, and I agree. The nose isn't as strong, nor is the fruit as intense, so it's probably more accessible for someone who's not tried a lot of them. The finish is dry and relatively quick. Still, as pointed out above, it is a pretty good tasting entry. For some, good enough to sing for. $7-8.

Guenoc 2005 Lake County Petite Sirah -- I pulled the cork from this bottle to find "Langtry" stamped on the side. Guenoc is Langtry Estates' second label. Their "estate" petite sirah will set you back $40, but you can find this one for about a third of that price. The nose of this wine rushes from the glass with a blast of mint and blueberry. From the other side of the couch, the SPinC said, "I can smell the mint from here." The nose also has a slight yeasty scent. The body is medium, much like a red Burgundy. The finish then turns dry as the tannin takes over, but it's a very pleasant wine. This wine recently took home "Best Petit Sirah" at the California State Fair. Give it a go at $10-12.

Wine for Thanksgiving

Hard to believe it's been a year since the last time I looked at wines for the Most Gluttonous Time Of The Year. Lots of calories under the bridge since then. We're again faced with the same dilemma -- big table, many family members with various issues, wildly varied foods, and a need for wines to please everyone.

Good luck.

Actually, there are a number of wines that would work just fine with almost any table. Since thinking basic is a good idea, there's a lot of decent product that will work. A few possibilities follow. And, like last year, if you find yourself cooking -- I still recommend a flask of Maker's Mark stashed inconspicuously behind the potato masher.

Paringa 2004 Sparkling Shiraz -- Full disclosure -- this was the first alcoholic sparkling red I've ever tried. I'd heard sparkling shiraz mentioned as a flexible wine, and I was quite curious, since I couldn't quite put "Shiraz" and "sparkling" together in my mind. If you drink this wine thinking "Shiraz," you're in for a shock. The strong fruit and slight sweetness of Shiraz gets amplified. While the wine was a little bit sweeter than I usually take, it was still very interesting. The nose is crisp, with a little blueberry. The flavor is soft. It's sweet, but there's a little bit of tannin running underneath. The finish is very crisp for a wine this sweet. If you put it with the typical Thanksgiving table -- roast turkey, cranberry sauce, stuffing, and such -- it would really shine. There are enough interesting notes in here to echo almost anything you'll find in the food. If you pick it up at another time of year, have it as a brunch wine. Fruits (we had it with cherries and chocolate covered blueberries) match this wine very well. $10.

Covey Run 2005 Gewürztraminer -- What can I say, I'm still a sucker for wines with umlauts. While Riesling is probably more flexible, if you've got a group that wants something a little different or if you're with a group that doesn't know better, bust out a Gewürz. It'll be fun for people to try to pronounce after a couple of glasses, at the very least. This offering from Washington is a really flavorful wine, starting you with a nose of honey and apples. The body is quite full and fruity, and it's not as peppery as many of its cousins. I generally prefer them with a little more spice, but this will be much more accessible to a larger group. More importantly, it does have enough acidity to stand up to most foods. It will compliment almost anything that you might think to cook, unless you're going to do a beef roast or something along those lines. For $8-9, you'll get a bottle you can use either with dinner or as an aperitif.

Louis Jadot 2006 Beaujolais-Villages -- A quick side note here. I wanted to do a Beaujolais as one of the wines, since that's a classic pairing. I was struck immediately when I checked that section of the aisle at the sheer number of Beaujolais cru that were available. If you remember, those are the ones made in particular towns in the region and are supposed to be the "top of the line." Then I noticed -- every single one of them was from Georges Dubeouf. I shouldn't have a prejudice, since his wines are generally very quaffable -- but with this onslaught of cru, I was skeptical. I followed my instinct and took the one bottle of Beaujolais among the dozen or so that wasn't from dear ol' Georges. I wasn't disappointed. A friendly, nice nose of strawberries and cherries. Those scents are echoed in the body of the wine. The tannins are light, and the acidity's not too strong. A good all around red wine to just straight-up drink or that will work with most anything you'll have on the table. Only $6-7, so you can load up and not break the bank.

Gnarly Head 2005 Old Vine Zinfandel -- "Come on, Mike," a friend of mine said, "You do these wines for big groups and parties, and you do things that will appeal to the middle of the road. But Thanksgiving is a big ass meal, so you need a big ass wine. What would you do?" With a gauntlet like that thrown down, you need a red wine where people will know that they're drinking A Red Wine. Still, you have to have appeal for lots of folks, and it does have to go with what you're serving. One wine raises its hand -- Zinfandel. Specifically, big, cranking California Zin. The Gnarly Head fills the bill perfectly. The very definition of a "fruit bomb," this wine announces its presence with authority. Lots of big plummy scents lead you to a huge fruity body. There's a little tannin and a little oak in there somewhere, and you catch hints of it on the finish -- but it's largely a big wine that would pair with big flavors. Most Thanksgiving tables would be perfect. At close to 15% alcohol, it'll liven up any party. $10.

Enjoy the gorging, enjoy the wine, enjoy the football, and celebrate the family. Whether tied by blood or by love, they're what makes us us. Raise a glass.

Testosterone Sauvignon -- Wines for Men

Men like wine. Why don't we see it advertised to them?

Watch typical "male" programming. You know, talking sports, wrestling, action movies, "24," and so on. You don't see wine ads among the deluge of "light" beers, gadgets, and John Mellencamp singing about Awrrr Countreee. Heck, they'll advertise a flippin' minivan, but not a decent bottle of cabernet.

Men are a stable wine buying population. We drink the stuff. We write songs about it (from the Rolling Stones to Merle Haggard to Axl Rose). The majority of winemakers are men. The manliest writers -- think Hemingway, London, Kerouac, et al -- feature it prominently. Behind the pursuit of "yabyum" and enlightenment, a close third-ranking activity in "The Dharma Bums" was finding a jug of wine and hanging out. Basically, the same things we still do…

Perhaps winemakers think that men aren't a good target demographic. Perhaps they think that other avenues are more effective -- I'm not sure. Even with females making up the larger percentage of wine drinkers (52.5 to 47.5%), that still leaves about a billion bottles consumed by men each year in the U.S. alone, and they haven't even surveyed me yet. In my opinion, the first winemaker to catch on to the fact that there are more than Neanderthals watching "everyday man" shows will make a mint. Maybe a couple of winemakers are wising up. I heard an ad for Dancing Bull Wines on "Mike and Mike in the Morning" on ESPN Radio, so who knows?

Regardless, as a rule, men are usually more clueless than women in a wine store. Why? Genetics. We're preprogrammed to a) be the authority and b) never ask for directions. (That thud you just heard was the Sweet Partner in Crime braining me with an Introduction to Sociology textbook.)

Let a typical man loose in a wine store and what happens? A little aimless wandering, perhaps the "what have I heard of before" thought process -- and, eventually, the same thing happens to a man as a woman. He looks at labels and buys something that looks interesting. Shiny objects and pretty colors, you know. Breweries figured that out a long time ago.

Slowly, wineries are coming around to this way of thinking. I put myself in a mindset of looking at labels and walked the aisles, thinking, "What looks interesting?" Here are a couple that jumped out:

Bohemian Highway 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon -- For the ex-and-present hippies among us. This is a pretty straightforward cab. A cab you could pour and enjoy with a meal, or sit around and Kerouac right out of the bottle. The fairly strong nose is currants and blackberries. The body is big and fruity. Nothing you have to work too hard to wrap your palate around. The finish is straight fruit, almost Zin-ish. Not a lot of tannin to be found, so it would be an excellent party wine. The flavor blends well with anything smoky. $7.

Joe Blow 2005 White Wine -- Even more challenging than finding the right marketing for men would be finding a way to market white wine to men. At least red wine has the romance and the better descriptive words on the cards in the aisles. You don't hear a pinot grigio described as "muscular" very often. So, create a label that says, "Hey…no big deal…it's just wine." Ironically, the Joe Blow is made from three very "female" varietals: chardonnay, viognier, and chenin blanc. The nose is very interesting. I guess you'd call it "tropical," but I got an odd combination -- butter and papaya -- and it worked. The viognier makes the nose strong, the chardonnay gives it a full body, and the chenin blanc adds a nice crispness. A good hot weather wine or with anything spicy. $10.

Jarhead Red California Table Wine -- The Marine emblem stands out on this simply labeled wine, marketed as a wine "made by Marines for Marines." I'm not a veteran, but I certainly appreciate the service of the Marines and the fruit of the labors of a couple of them. Made in conjunction with Firestone Vineyards (most of the wines are out of Vine range, but if you get a chance to try their cabernet, splurge.) The Jarhead is a solid red, definitely a cabernet dominated blend. Plenty of fruit on both the nose and palate. The finish is dry, but not very long. More of a get in, get out wine with any kind of red meat. We had this outside one night in the company of one of our neighbors. The proceeds from the sale of this wine go to the Marine Corps Scholarship Fund (mcsf.org). This organization provides educational assistance to the children of fallen Marines. $13.

Greatest Misses

From a recent conversation:

"You know, Mike -- by nature, you're more or less a cynical bastard. But when you write about wine, you always say such positive things. Have you ever run into a wine you didn't like?"

It's a good question. I mean, I'm usually pretty lucky with the wines I end up reviewing, but there are some I've bumped into that just…well…won't be on my list. I tend to spare you folks from reading about them -- but why not publish a cautionary tale once in awhile?

What follows are some wines I've run into during my explorations that didn't make the cut...

Cline 2006 Viognier -- I'm generally a fan of Cline wine. They're a good midline wine producer. Heck, I used a Cline in the installment where I talked about "wine sniffing." They generally make very decent wine at reasonable prices. I was excited about the Viognier, since the weather is cooling off a bit, and the weight of Viognier works well as we leave the heat. Also, I'm a sucker for a pretty-smelling wine. Unfortunately, things stopped there. The nose was slightly perfumey, like many Viogniers -- but not as strong as I'm used to. The body can only be described as "weak." It was like drinking fruity water, and the finish was the definition of what they call in WineSpeak, "flabby." Much better Viogniers are available.

Domaine Guindon 2005 Muscadet -- A friend of mine recommended a muscadet not long ago, and I wondered why I hadn't made myself at least passingly familiar with the varietal. I bought one at the store, chilled it a bit, gave it a swig, and remembered why I'd not done so. When I first started learning about wine, I picked up a Kevin Zraly wine course book and worked my way through. One of the first stops was "The White Wines of France." In the Loire Valley region, they make wine from the muscadet grape. That's not to be confused with Muscat -- the grape used for any number of sweeter white & dessert wines. This grape yields a somewhat dry wine which allegedly pairs well with shrimp & shellfish. I remember not exactly finding it to my liking. I'd not bought another -- until this one. And I remembered immediately why I didn't much care for it. The nose of this wine smelled alkaline to me, almost metallic. The main taste of the wine is incredibly dry and quickly turns really tart. The finish of the wine left my tongue feeling like a carpet. In fairness, since then I found that muscadet is fabulous with oysters on the half-shell, but unless you've got some salty shellfish on the menu, you might want to look elsewhere.

Australian Riesling in General -- As anyone who knows me will tell you, I love me some Riesling. I enjoy this wine because: (a) It's food friendly. (b) It's affordable. (c) It's generally yummy. I've also read recently that Australia has been "very successful" at growing Riesling. If that's so, I haven't run into many. I've tried a couple -- Lindemans 2004 "Bin 75" Riesling and Rosemount Estates 2005 Riesling. Given, both are from large-scale producers. Both are semi-sweet and crisp, and you'll get some lemon and apple from each, but nothing to write home about. They're both pretty inexpensive, so if you're doing a dinner party and your guests aren't picky, they'll probably all like this. If they are picky, make sure you get some food and other wines in them before cracking this one. Seriously -- if any of you out there in VineLand have some suggestions for Aussie Riesling, please pass them along. I hate to write off an entire country's varietal, after all.

There you have it -- a few of the wines I'd think twice about. Feel free to disagree. If there are wines you expected to be something special (or at least decent) and ended up disappointing, share your stories. Think of it as group therapy.

Manolo Blahnik. Kate Spade. Mad Housewife?

"In marketing I've seen only one strategy that can't miss -- and that is to market to your best customers first, your best prospects second and the rest of the world last."
- John Romero

Marketing fascinates me.

Ever since I took an "Advertising and Society" class my senior year at [redacted], I've looked at advertisements with a more critical eye. I also received the worst grade on any paper in my academic career in that class because I focused too tightly on marketing in my research -- or at least that's the explanation the TA in the class gave.

It's all about appealing to the target demographic. Advertisers get brief chunks of time to make an impression, so message must be tightly targeted. You want to appeal to young men? Use scantily clad women (or perhaps scantily clad men). You want to appeal to older men? Mention a life free from prostate trouble. You want to appeal to middle-aged folks? Get them worried about either paying for children and retirement, or remind them that they can still feel young. And then there's the John Mellencamp-themed Chevy ads. (You know the one: "This is awrrrr counnnntreeeeeee."). They seem to annoy as many people as the Applebee's "Gilligan's Island" spots -- so I'm yet to figure where they're aimed…

So what does this have to do with wine? Women account for 57% of wine sales in the US, and most female consumers of wine drink what they buy almost immediately. According to Leslie Sbrocco, author of "Wine for Women," women "look for the experience" in wine. "We think about who we're with, what we're eating," she said. "Women buy visually, paying attention to packaging. They look for a transition between day and night, work and play."

Wine sellers are quick on the uptake. Interesting labels, odd bottle shapes, funky names for wines -- these are aimed at casual wine drinkers and/or people who tend to consume wines not long after purchase, since those two demographics make up the majority of wine sales. A typical, old-school cursive covered bottle with a proudly emblazoned vintage but no other "obvious" information isn't going to stand out while strolling the aisles of Liquor Direct.

Couple this notion with Sbrocco's thesis -- and you'll get a lot of wines marketed at women for "specific" use in particular environments. Now, I'm not going to claim knowledge of what those environments may be…I'll leave those to you to envision or share in the comments. That said, here are a few wines who clearly weren't marketed towards my gender:

Little Black Dress 2005 Chardonnay -- From their publicity, "Fashioned specifically to capture the pure essence of what a woman wants in a wine, Little Black Dress signifies all that is elegant, confident, sexy and today." Pretty bold statement for an $8 bottle. Is it "sexy and today?" I have no clue, but it's decent. It comes off the hangar with a nose like a buttery chard -- creamy and citrusy. It's medium bodied for a chardonnay, and makes no bones about being Californian. There's plenty of toasty oak in this wine. However, instead of becoming buttery, it's turns more crisp -- an interesting mix of European and American styling. The finish is oaky and somewhat dry. We had this one with some grilled swordfish and yellow rice and it went quite nicely.

Mad Housewife 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon -- "This is your time. Time to enjoy a moment to yourself. A moment without the madness." Perhaps this is a reworking of the Stones' "Mother's Little Helper," but hey -- whatever gets you through. Actually, this is a very decent Cabernet. It's nothing spectacular, but very approachable. The Mad Housewife has a fragrant nose of currants and blackberries. There's a nice fruity taste with just an edge of tannin. Finish is slightly dry. The Sweet Partner in Crime said that she found it "Zin-ish, but not quite that strong a flavor." It's a $10 bottle, which is probably about right for the quality.

Bitch 2005 Grenache -- I remember the first time I saw this wine. I was wandering down the Australian wine aisle when I spotted this bright pink label with "Bitch" delicately scripted. I had a hard time running this wine down to review -- as it tends to sell pretty briskly, for reasons I would need a second "X" chromosome to properly understand. When did "bitch" become a term of endearment? I used that word to describe that Advertising and Society TA for a decade. That all changed when TA-Bitch became the Sweet Partner in Crime ten years later, but that's a story for another day.

That said, this is a much fruitier, heavier wine than I expected from a straight Grenache. Most Grenaches tend to be on the light side, but this one refuses to take a back seat. (Apparently, Grenache is also a bitch to grow…) Blindfolded, I'd think might be a more manly zinfandel, but Bitch brings the strength. At 15% alcohol -- this is not a wine to be trifled with. The nose is full of brandy-covered plums. There's some licorice to go with the fruit when you taste, and the finish is surprisingly dry. Nice tannin. $11-12.

Of course, since I'm male, you can probably discount most of what I say above. I'll do a followup column on manly wines soon. Suggestions are welcome…

Two-Buck Chuck

Great moments in cinema, Bull Durham edition:

Crash Davis gives Nuke LaLoosh advice about how to handle "The Show." "You're gonna have to learn your clichés," Crash says. Same thing applies if you ever decide to write a column about inexpensive wine. Have your responses down as you're making your pitch for fame and fortune.

When you get "What's your favorite wine?" Answer: "Whatever's open."

When you get "How many bottles do you have open at a time?" Answer: "Enough."

When you get "Sir, what do you think you're doing?" Answer: You're usually pouring glasses for yourself at a wine tasting, which is unfortunately considered poor form. Simply apologize. Then point across the room, exclaim, "Is that Robert Parker over there?" and snag the bottle when no one's looking.

However, "So, what do you know about that 'Two Buck Chuck' stuff?" was a question I couldn't answer. So, for the sake of science as well as your writing career, I'll take one for the team…

"Two Buck Chuck" is the nickname for Charles Shaw wines. These wines are exclusively distributed at Trader Joe's markets. (Pleasepleasepleaseplease open one in Northern Kentucky!) In California, where Shaw wines are produced, you can buy them for $1.99 a bottle. Elsewhere, depending on taxes, you'll likely find three-or-four buck Chuck.

There's nothing magical about this wine. The genesis of the low cost, according to the Trader Joe's website, "began as the result of an oversupply of wine and a great relationship with a valued supplier." Said supplier, Bronco Wineries (connected with Franzia), was indicted on federal fraud charges and paid a $2.5 million fine in the early 90's for misrepresenting cheaper grapes as premium Cabernet Sauvignon and Zinfandel. Bronco's bucked back with a vengeance, however -- as Charles Shaw has become one of the best selling wines in the United States.

So, how's it taste? Shaw wines have won major awards in national competitions, but I suppose I'm not enough of a connoisseur to understand why. I will say that they're generally solid, uncomplicated wines you can drink easily enough with food, but often have enough flavor to drink on their own. In other words, for a sluggable, you're talking about a decent bottle that's cheaper than either Boone's Farm or Night Train. Here's the skinny on Shaw's latest releases:

Charles Shaw 2006 Chardonnay -- In 2007, Charles Shaw's '05 chard won "Best in Class" and "Best in California" awards, but the '06 probably won't follow in its footsteps. That certainly doesn't mean that this is a poor wine. Although it's a California chard, it's not at all buttery, and only slightly oaky. The nose is light with some interesting peach scents. It's got a crisp taste with some mineral flavor and is a little peachy, like an inexpensive white burgundy. You might also notice some flavors of bubblegum in there somewhere. Finish is medium -- it's got a little weight at the end. A very decent, straight-up, inoffensive chardonnay for drinking alone or with picnic food, baked fish, or chicken dishes

Charles Shaw 2005 Merlot -- Trader Joe's patrons either skipped Sideways a few years ago or knew better than to pay attention to the "f'n merlot" rant. The Charles Shaw merlot is their top seller. I mentioned during Wine School the need to decant young and/or inexpensive wines. Here's another case in point. If you try to drink this right after popping the cork, you're going to get hit with a snootful of alcohol fumes. However, after a chance to sit and open up for a bit, it turns into a decent little quaff. The nose has a plum scent, almost like a syrah. The body is relatively light for a merlot. It's easy to drink, with some dark berry flavor, but it's not as rich as many merlots. The finish starts fruity, but then tannin kicks in and dries it out. With usual merlot foods like pork or grilled veggies, it would likely be very decent.

Charles Shaw 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon -- Again, another wine that you're going to need to decant before you drink. Straight out of the bottle, lighter fluid and berries. But after breathing for a good long while, it edges towards something a little more interesting. A little chocolate and blackberry on the nose. The taste -- well, this may be the least dry Cab I've ever tasted. There's a lot of fruit and some decent feel, but there's almost no tannin to speak of until the finish. Almost more like a Zinfandel (and knowing the history…hmm…) than a cabernet. I'd recommend this as a wine to have sitting around during a barbecue, or perhaps as your third or fourth bottle of the evening when you're not being choosy. If the latter is your reality, make sure you're stocked up on B-12, ibuprofen, Gatorade, and ginger ale.

Charles Shaw 2006 Sauvignon Blanc -- The big surprise of the bunch. In my experience, most "super-value" Sauvignon Blancs are either weak little wines or acidic enough to practically melt the bottle they're stored in -- not to mention your tongue and the underside of your jaw. The Shaw is neither. The nose is nicely fruity and approachable. The taste is a blend of honey and grapefruit. I'd almost describe it as "Viognier Lite." The finish isn't as crisp as a lot of SB's, although there's enough residual acidity to make it refreshing. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I agreed that buying a case or two each summer to have as everyday sluggables wouldn't be a bad idea. A rock-solid pool wine, although I'd probably look elsewhere for food pairings, since there are so many good food-friendly Sauvignon Blancs at only a dollar or two more.

Charles Shaw also started producing Shiraz and Valdiguie. The latter is a clone of Gamay grown in California. I haven't tried either. So, if you have, please chime in.

Remember to temper your expectations. If you're going to pick up wine that's this inexpensive, don't think. You can only hurt the ballclub.

Thinking Inside the Box

A few months ago, longtime Vine reader and erstwhile neighbor Christine asked, "So, when are you going to do a column on box wines." I mentioned to her that planned to do one for April Fool's.

"No, seriously," she said with an edge in her voice that gave me goosebumps. This is, after all, a woman who hiked the state of Vermont in five weeks, and offhandedly asks questions like, "Hey, are you guys interested in a triathlon?"

She was correct, of course. My experience with box wines had been unpleasant for the most part, but it made sense for me to give a take. After all, it is the least expensive wine delivery system.

So, how do they get the wine in there? The wine's not really in the box, of course. There's an aluminum or plastic pouch inside the box, tapped with a small spout of some kind. These containers are officially called "casks," although they're known in Australia as "goons."

Box wine tends to be of lesser quality than bottled wine -- but there are advantages. Once you open a bottle of wine, you're committed. The wine starts to oxidize almost immediately, and your wine will lose quality rapidly. Box wine never touches air until it hits the glass, so it can keep consistent quality until needed (although you can't age box wine). One of our friends termed box wine "Homer Simpson wine -- you push a button, and there it is!"

They hold up to five liters of wine, but the most common size we'll see is three liters. Three liters is equivalent to four regular-sized bottles. And there's the rub. I drink a lot of wine, obviously, but having three liters of a generally-not-great wine lying around for just myself and the Sweet Partner in Crime isn't what I'm looking for. Generally, you'd get these containers for larger gatherings -- or if someone is distracted, gone for work, or just lame enough to need a wine that will last for a month.

Still, the obvious reason was to par-tay. Thus, the First Annual Labor Day Box Wine Extravaganza was born. Christine and I each got two boxes of wine, and we went from there. The cast of characters:

• The Sweet Partner in Crime and I.
• Christine and her handyman husband Jeff.
• Katherine, a mutual friend.
• Marlene & Steve, our Francophile neighbors.

We did our best to take notes on our tastings, but by the end of the evening, predictably, we lost track of who said what. The quotes tell the stories well enough.

The wines:

• Angel Juice 2005 Pinot Grigio
• Banrock Station 2006 Chardonnay
• Black Box 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon
• Black Box 2006 Shiraz

(Christine and I bought our wines separately, so we ran with what we had.)

First up, the Angel Juice.

• "It's lawnmower wine. You know, for a hot day in the yard." (Which led to: "What? You mean you'd put it in the lawnmower?")
• "It'll drink, but there's not much body."
• "It's so light -- it's not really much of a wine."
• "It's like Crystal Light -- the Wine of the Astronauts!"
• "Kinda bitter -- like the seeds are crushed up in it."
• "It says 'honeysuckle and citrus' -- I don't get either. More lemon rind than lemon!"
• "It quenches your thirst -- but I won't say much beyond that."
• "One word: Wimpy."

We did find that it went reasonably well with food. Pesto paired well for some reason.

Then came the Banrock Station. Honestly, we all wished we'd just stayed on the train…

• "It smells like honey wine or cider."
• "It's sour. There's no oak -- none. It's just bad, bad, bad."
• "It's like a golden shower for your mouth."
• "I wouldn't cook with it."
• "It tastes like battery acid."
• "It's a cut above Mad Dog."
• "I'd give it to a homeless guy so he could get a change of pace."

Truly an awful wine -- unanimously one of the worst we'd had collectively. More optimistically, the suggestion was made: "Maybe you could make a spritzer out of it." (You couldn't.) Christine made the best suggestion: "Well, at least you could recycle the box…"

With palates collectively in shock, we were worried as we edged towards the reds. The Black Box wines -- we were dubious -- but we went forward. We were too invested to turn back:

• "This isn't bad!"
• "It's not complicated -- but it's decent." (Surprised nods all around.)
• "It's versatile. This is good wine for a party."
• "It's inoffensive -- it would go with a lot of things. There's enough fruit and tannin to be interesting."
• "It passes the cube test. If it's really hot, you can put ice in it and it's still drinkable."

Black Box's Shiraz followed suit:

• "It's nondescript, but you really could drink it with anything."
• "It's a really simple wine."
• "Hey! This goes pretty well with chocolate!"
• "It's good."
• "It's yummy -- has a little bite to it, unlike that chardonnay, which just bites."
• "It's far too easy to dispense!"

We made a dent in all four. The Cabernet had the least left by morning. The chardonnay was the cheapest ($16), while the shiraz was the most expensive ($24). Since there are clear levels of quality, if you're willing to drop $20 or more on a box, you'll probably end up OK.

One last note on the Banrock: We did follow Christine's recommendation:

UPDATE: While this has little to do with box wine, the Sweet Partner and I enjoyed some "regular" wine last night at Red, a restaurant in Cincinnati's Hyde Park district. Two thumbs up from us. The food was excellent (we had a filet and halibut, along with some of the best bourbon bread pudding outside of Lexington), the service was on par with the food, and the atmosphere was classy without being stuffy. Their website is fun, too -- allowing you to see the presentation of all their entrees. Give it a go for a special occasion.

Reese's Cup Wines

Allow me a moment of nostalgia.

I was speaking to a group of new freshmen at the institution of higher learning that funds my wine habit. As part of answering a question, I came out, for some reason, with, "You got your peanut butter in my chocolate…"

No one batted an eye. They had no clue. An entire generation of college students raised without "two great tastes that taste great together."

(Honestly, I don't remember the exact context -- and the Sweet Partner in Crime can attest that such a thing is fairly common.)

After the "jeez, you're getting' old" bell stopped ringing much later that evening, I decided to drown my sorrows a bit -- and what better way to honor that little piece of popular culture than with wines based on a similar principle.

Blending wines made from different grapes is almost as old as winemaking itself. Someone realized early on that proper proportions of different varietals greatly improve a wine's overall flavor. For instance, many cabernet sauvignons are bottled after being mixed with a touch of cabernet franc. This blend takes the edge off the tannin and brightens the fruit. Some wine growing areas even have laws requiring wines to be blended.

The French refer to a blended wine as a "cuvée." Literally translated, "cuvée" means "vat" -- which makes sense if you think about it. Cuvées were initially cheap table wine. The term has broadened significantly. Wine growers in Bordeaux and the Rhone valley specialize in cuvées. Practically all the wines from these regions, from inexpensive bistro wine to expensive first growth Bordeaux, are cuvées. Heck, Chateauneuf-de-Pape (a famous Rhone wine) is a blend of up to 13 different grapes!

American wine growers wanted to get in on the act. However, the growers couldn't call their wines "Bordeaux," obviously, and ATF regulations required a wine to be at least 75% of a single grape to be officially "named." If it wasn't 75%, it had to be labeled "table wine," which was unfortunate, considering the quality. In 1988, some California wine growers made up the term "Meritage" for blends of California grapes made in the style of French wine.

Meritage was the standard term for a bit -- but the growers discovered that few among the "normal" wine drinkers knew what the heck it meant. Then came the "Proprietary Blend" -- which basically meant that they'd put whatever they wanted in it. This was followed by "Rhone style" to add an element of gravitas. Finally, as with most things, we've come full circle. Many better American wineries are releasing "cuvees." In France, Georges DuBeouf has started making surprisingly decent blends out of leftover grapes -- called "Cuvée Blanc" and "Cuvée Rouge." Go figure.

Blended wines can be hit or miss. If the proportions are off, then the wine can end up a weak, flabby mess -- especially inexpensive blends. There are, however, many meritages with merit:

Oakley 2005 fourWHITES -- "It's very pretty," announced the Sweet Partner in Crime. This blend from Cline Cellars combines Gewurztraminer, Palomino (the grape from which sherry is made), Viognier, and Malvasia. I've never heard of that last grape. Honey and flowers on the nose like a viognier, a little of that sherry bite with the peach and citrus flavor, and a finish with a pepper like gewürztraminer. This one would be absolutely scrumptious with a salad with some mandarin oranges or something like bruschetta with fresh garden tomatoes and some balsamic vinegar. A steal at $7-9.

Toad Hollow "Erik's the Red" Proprietary Blend -- You want to talk about a serious blend? This wine has eighteen different grapes in the mix. It doesn't exactly follow any specific style -- rather, it's simply a tasty, full red. This wine has plenty of nice, deep flavors. Big dark fruit on the nose, coupled with a little of that Russian River valley boldness. The taste is soft and full of blackberries. The finish is long and fruity. While not very tannic, it's got enough muscle to hold up against some pretty hefty food pairings. It would go pretty well with a prime rib, I'd imagine -- but it's a really scrumptious companion for some dark chocolate. A good, solid, kick-back-and drink wine. $11-13.

Rosenblum Chateau La Paws 2005 Cote du Bone Roan -- One of my favorite French wines is Cotes-du-Rhone. The occasional problem with a CDR is that the earthy character of the wine often overwhelms the fruit, leaving it tasting flat. Rosenblum Cellars, known best for their Zinfandels, decided to do the Sonoma Twist with a Rhone style wine. They blended some of their Zinfandel with some of the traditional grapes of CDR (Syrah, Carignane, Mourvedre). The addition of Zinfandel creates an interesting nice balance -- a fruity wine with an earthy "backbone." The nose is plummy and spicy. It's a very big wine, as you'd probably expect. Lots more plum and smoke flavors. The finish has enough tannin to make it interesting, instead of trailing off into alcohol as many Zins do. We cracked this one simply by chance when we grilled up some marinated ostrich steaks with this. Yum! Simply put, this was one of the best grill pairings I've had in a long time. A filet mignon would also be scrumptious here. Give it a try. You won't be disappointed. $10-13.

"Shall I unscrew it for you?"

One of my favorite sitcoms of all time is Night Court. In one memorable episode, Dan Fielding, the Lothario of all prosecutors (played brilliantly by John Larroquette), finally gets his chance to bed his nemesis, defense attorney Christine Sullivan. Always the…ahem…gentleman, Dan takes Christine out for dinner, orders some bubbly, and the maître d' delivers a classic line:

"Chateau Libido isn't one of our usual selections. Shall I unscrew it for you?"

Screwcaps and cheap wine have a long association. For years, only wines of last resort had screwtops instead of corks. These wines generally could be found comfortably nestled in paper bags in the hands of…well…people who regularly drink wines of last resort. For many years, screwcaps had this unfortunate association.

Oxygen is generally the #1 enemy of wine. If you've ever had the misfortune to drink from a bottle with a deteriorated cork, you know that vinegar taste well. In addition, there's a chemical compound called TCA that can form in a cork when moisture, chlorine, and mold interact. This causes a wine to taste like damp cardboard. When a wine takes on this flavor, it’s said to be “corked” – an affliction affecting about one bottle per case of imported wine, on average.

Enter the "Stelvin closure." Stelvins were invented in the 1950's in France. The Stelvin is a screwtop designed specifically for use with wine bottles. Stelvins are two-piece caps that create a virtually airtight seal, thus no "corked" wine or rotting closures. They're also much more environmentally friendly, since no trees are damaged in the making of these closures. In the late 90's, Australia became the first country to use screwtops widely. Some California winemakers (most notably Bonny Doon) followed suit in the early 2000's. Some vintners now put $100+ wine in screw top bottles.

The Stelvin's popularity continues to spread. About 10 percent of all wine bottled worldwide now are sealed with screwtops. Two issues prevent screwtops from becoming more widespread. First, aging. No one knows how well wine will age in a screwtop bottle. Second, romance. Many feel there's something magical to that "pop" of a freshly drawn cork.

Since we're not worried about aging and you can open wines in another room -- I say ease of use wins out. Worse to be caught corkscrewless than seem cheap. Also, since you can twist the top back on and the seal is airtight, the wine maintains taste for a longer period of time. So, try a couple of these and twist to your heart's content:

Hogue 2005 Washington State Pinot Grigio -- Hogue was one of the first large-scale U.S. winemakers to switch to Stelvins. They've always done decent, inexpensive wine -- but they grabbed a larger market share after making the twist switch. As for the wine itself, the nose is light with peach and apple scents. The body is full for a pinot grigio. It's a little acidic, but with an interesting creaminess. The finish is of decent length with a refreshing end. You could consider serving this with slightly heavier food than you might an ordinary pinot grigio. Fettucini alfredo, grilled shrimp, etc… $8-10.

Twin Wells 2004 Terra Australis Reserve Shiraz: "So a Frenchman goes to Australia…" No, I don't know a punchline, and I have no idea if the winemaker is really a French expat, but this wine is as close to Europe as I've had from Australia. Since the Ozzies started this trend on a large scale, we need a wine from Down Under as an appropriate representative. The Sweet Partner in Crime gave me this wine as a blind test, and I thought I was sniffing a Cotes-du-Rhone. The nose was a little too rich and fruity for a C-d-R, but the "Old World Funk" seemed to be there. The flavor is definitely Australian Shiraz: big, dark fruits -- but with an earthier body than most. The finish is long, a little tannic, and a little tart. The price is what blew me away on this one. Found this at Trader Joe's for $7. Serve with your typical shiraz foods: grilled meats, roasted chicken, lamb, steak, and so on.

Verget du Sud 2006 Rosé de Syrah -- Not even the stodgy French could resist the temptation of the Stelvin. Winemaker Jean-Marie Guffens is a traveler. He wanders France looking for small growers producing good grapes -- but doesn't limit himself to the grapes of a particular region. His wines are exclusively (to my knowledge) capped with Stelvins. This rosé is made from southern Rhone Valley Syrah. This is a "pretty smelling" rosé -- lots of flowers and pineapple. It's very nicely balanced to taste -- the fruit isn't overcome by any acidic "bite." The finish does turn tart and a little dry. The combination of acidity and full (for rosé) body would make this a winner with almost any food short of heavy beef and sauces. With anything shellfish related, especially a fish stew or paella, it brings down the house. $9-12.

Any of these selections would be superior to D.A. Fielding’s choice of sparkling wine. But few men have walked the earth armed with a better coup de grace than Dan’s clincher:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways....I know 52 of them."

Court adjourned!

Turning Back the Clock -- Chenin Blanc

The 70's. Sit back and smell the polyester.

Imagine looking in the avocado-colored fridge of any groovy, shag-carpeted urban apartment. You'll find a bottle or jug of white wine -- probably either Krug or Gallo. In script on the label -- "Chenin Blanc." (The red in the cabinet above the fridge is no doubt a "Burgundy," but we've covered that…) Merlot's "Sideways" downturn pales in comparison to the utter destruction of Chenin Blanc in the U.S. for years by this marketing ploy.

A shame. Chenin Blanc may have fallen from the ranks of the more popular wines -- but it's a pretty incredible grape. Chenin Blanc may be the most versatile grape on the planet. Winemakers put together everything from sparkling wine to crisp, flavorful whites to some of the best dessert wines in the world. Chenin Blanc grows almost anywhere, as well.

The best Chenin Blanc is grown in the Loire Valley in France. The dessert wines from the Loire rival even Sauternes for renown. The best Chenin table wines in the Loire come from Vouvray. Chenin Blanc is the third-most cultivated grape in California and is the most widely grown grape in South Africa.

Unfortunately, the ease of growing this grape has resulted in a great lack of care in some places, leading to some truly forgettable wines. Luckily, winemakers and consumers are starting to move past the wide lapel era into modern times, where there's some good white to be had. Done correctly, Chenin Blanc is an incredibly food friendly, drinkable wine. One of the few positives (for us) of the "Chenin Stigma" is that you'll be able to find a very good wine at a very reasonable price. Here's an example of what can be done:

Vinum Cellars 2005 "Chard-No-Way" Chenin Blanc -- Vinum Cellars was founded by a couple of buddies from UC Davis that went into the wine industry. The two of them decided to help the world rediscover this lost grape. They make their wine in Napa, in the heart of Chardonnay country -- hence the name of the wine. You start with a nose of tart apples and grapefruit. It has an extremely light body (in my mind, almost too light). However, after a quiet start, the acidity and tartness pick up along with flavors of pineapples or similar fruit. The finish is fairly long and quite tart. Vinum's creation is an ideal crisp, refreshing poolside wine. You could pair this easily with almost any light seafood or with wine killers like asparagus or artichokes. $11-14.

Indaba 2005 Chenin Blanc -- South Africa is growing great amounts of Chenin Blanc, with no end in sight as the wine gains popularity worldwide. "Indaba" is Zulu for "a community discussion." This would be an appropriate beverage for any kind of social gathering to get the words flowing. The Indaba is considerably stronger in scent than the Vinum. Citrusy. The body is considerably heavier than the first, which is a good thing if you ask me. The wine is slightly sweet at first, but then gets quickly tart. If I'd not been told, I would have mistaken it for a light, complex sauvignon blanc. The finish is quite easy -- a little bit of honey and tartness. Spicy food, like satay or Thai, would go wonderfully -- as would something like pizza. Shellfish, as with most Chenins, work well. The acidity allows it to stand up to just about anything. And at $5-7, how can you go wrong?

Chateau de Villeneuve 2005 Saumur -- The Saumur region of the Loire Valley is the home of the best sparkling wines made from Chenin, but their still wines are quite good as well. Among our wines this time, this one was an interesting contrast. The Saumur has an interesting "yeasty" nose, which isn't as unpleasant as it sounds. This aroma is caused by leaving the wine "sur lie" -- meaning "on the lees." "Lees" is WineSpeak for "remaining dead yeast after fermentation." Before the whole "buttery" malolactic fermentation craze began, leaving a wine on the lees was one way to make the flavor creamier. There's also a little apple on the nose. The flavor is light-bodied, with creamy flavors of pear and vanilla. The flavor is very smooth, but picks up a nice tart finish -- which would allow it to pair wonderfully with any kind of shellfish, salad, or light pasta. I baked some scallops in foil with veggies, and it was fabulous. $11-13.

Until next time, bite the bullet, put the leisure suit away, and relax in the summer sun with some Chenin. Cheers!

Wine School! (Lesson #7 -- Syrah/Shiraz)

Syrah -- the juicy grape.

Our final red class focuses on Syrah. (Or Shiraz, if you prefer -- same grape.) Of the three reds, syrahs are biggest and fruitiest. Now, I use "biggest" to mean the fullest body -- not necessarily the strongest flavor. Think of Chardonnays. The Kendall-Jackson had the fullest body, but the Alamos had the strongest flavor.

I had a misconception about Syrah. I was under the impression that the French cultivated Syrah, and after transport to Australia, gained its more common name, Shiraz. Nope. The French actually changed the name. The grape's name comes from the city of Shiraz in Southern Iran, the possible origin of winemaking over 7,000 years ago.

A French crusader brought the vines back to Europe and withdrew to his home for the remainder of his life to cultivate it -- thus earning the wine made from French Syrah its first appellation -- "Hermitage." In the 1830's, the grape was brought to Australia, where it regained its original name and eventually became the most-planted grape Down Under. American growers tend to name their wine depending on which style it most resembles. "New World" styles are usually called "Shiraz."

Syrah creates wines that tend to be fruity (and I mean dark fruit -- like blackberries and plums) and peppery. Syrah is the backbone grape (along with Grenache) of many wines in the Rhone region of France. The wine usually tastes "heavier" and goes well with big foods. Oh, and chocolate! For my money -- I personally think that the flavors of syrah complement chocolate better than any other varietal.

Syrah is considerably less tannic than Cabernet Sauvignon, and so doesn't generally age as well. Some vintages age better than others, but, generally, Syrah really comes into its own after about 3-4 years.

During a springtime of craziness, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I ended up with a free weekend that turned out to be unseasonably cool. Not willing to waste a perfect opportunity, we decided to cook up a few different pairings for the syrah. Our lineup was:

Estancia 2003 Central Coast Syrah -- $9-11
E. Guigal 2004 Cotes du Rhone -- $11-13
Penfold's 2003 Koonunga Hill Shiraz -- $9-11

We cracked the Estancia first and gave it a swirl. Smelled like smoke and alcohol, tasted like spiked grape juice. Much like the cabernet, decanting was necessary. However, once you open a syrah, you're committed. Even if you vacuum-seal a bottle, the big fruit taste fades rapidly, so plan to finish within 2-3 days, tops.

After about 20 minutes, we tried again. First up, the Estancia. After decanting, the smoky scent was still there, but much more gently. Instead, a strong dark berry aroma took center stage. The full body of this wine was loaded with big flavors of blueberry. The finish was fruity and was the least dry of the three. The finish is best described as "smoked blueberries."

Moving on to the Guigal. Cotes-du-Rhone is typically a blend of Syrah and Grenache. These are the "generic" wines of the Rhone region -- usually because their grapes are from all over the area, not because they're inferior wines. I find them to be good "starter" wines if you want to start tasting French wines. They don't have as much of the "Old World Funk" I mentioned before.

The Guigal's nose was light, with some berries and flowers. Since it's a blend, the Grenache made the wine lighter than a straight syrah. The taste was less fruity as well -- instead yielding more of an earthy flavor. The finish was somewhat dry, "leathery," and slightly chalky. While the description may not sound appealing, Cotes-du-Rhone really shows its colors when matched with food, like many European wines. And it certainly was drinkable on its own.

Finally, the Penfold's. This Australian number also had a fruity nose, but with a leather and vanilla scent backing it up. The body was second in line here, with a smoky flavor and a taste like figs or prunes -- not sweet fruits as with many Syrahs. The finish was full of vanilla and pepper.

We tried different recipes on three consecutive nights. With a warm, spicy lentil dish, the big winner (not surprisingly) was the Guigal. Earth goes with earth, and Cotes-du-Rhone is tailor-made to pair with root vegetables and legumes.

We made a slow-cooker dish called tzimmes the next night. Tzimmes is a Jewish casserole, made by slow-braising a roast with vegetables and fruit, seasoned with honey and cinnamon. So, while meaty and earthy, there's a lot of sweetness. The Estancia was the best pairing here. If it had been a simple pot roast, I'd guess the Guigal would have been the call.

Our final meal was mustard-coated lamb with rosemary-garlic potatoes. The Estancia is not recommended here. The other two wines ran neck and neck, but the Penfold's took the title by a nose. The peppery flavor of this wine meshed really well with the mustard and the richness of the meat.

We discovered with chocolate that the Guigal isn't built to handle dessert. The chalkiness comes out, but not much else. The Estancia really brings out the cacao flavor -- the deep bittersweetness of the bean, almost like coffee. The Penfold's was fascinating. The flav