Rabisco – Chewy, Portuguese, and (halfway) Autochthonal

Since it's the middle of winter (although it hardly feels like it these days), this is the natural season to consume a glass of that delightfully fortified product, Port.

Port, in the world’s least surprising reveal, originated in Portugal. Port is initially fermented like a typical wine, but a neutral grain spirit is added to stop the fermentation and leave some residual sugar in the mix, which ultimately conveys the sweetness to the stuff.

Practically all ports are blends. There are about 100 different grapes approved for use in Port making, but there are five primary native (or autochthonal, if you want to use the official terminology) varietals. The king of these native Portuguese grapes is a varietal called Touriga Nacional.

Touriga Nacional vines bear small grapes with a high skin to pulp ratio – meaning that the juice flavors tend to run to the powerful side. Touriga Nacional provides depth and color to most blends. Touriga Nacional vines are very fast-growing, but those vines have some of the lowest yields of any vinifera grape.

Although Touriga Nacional is generally considered the finest Portuguese red varietal, until the last few years it comprised only around 2% of Portugal’s total vineyard plantings. In the last decade, however, improvements in vine maintenance and crossbreeding have upped TourNac yields, and Portuguese winemakers have begun making dry red wine blends featuring it.

Enter Rabisco 2015 Reserva Tejo -- a dry red wine made from 50% Touriga Nacional and 50% from good ol’ Cabernet Sauvignon.

To break the wine’s name down a bit – Rabisco means “Scratch” in Portuguese. The winery from which this wine hails is part of an animal sanctuary and dozens of bird species pass through during migration. Most famously, storks winter in this region – and the wine label centers on a freehand pencil “scratch” sketch of one of these beautiful birds.

Tejo is the region surrounding the Tejo River, near the vineyards of the grapes. “Reserva” simply means that it’s a high quality, single vintage wine, but official aging or fermenting definitions aren’t attached to that term.

What’s this wine like? Well, for starters, it’s relatively inexpensive (as are many Portuguese wines) – retailing at $13. Not surprisingly, considering the skin thickness of the Touriga Nacional grape, it’s a big, honking mouthful of tannin, especially before the wine’s had time to open up. Decant for half an hour if you can. The Cabernet adds some dark fruit – blackberries and currants – which are deepened by the TourNac – but it’s certainly no fruit bomb.

It’s a wine longer on tannins than richness, so if you’re looking for something with a lighter body but a bigger flavor punch – it would probably appeal. I would imagine that the combination is somewhat of an acquired taste. I thought it was worth a try – especially alongside a braised pork dish or a tapas-y spread of appetizers. The SPinC thought it was too punchy for her palate.

All in all, it’s probably worth a try if you like full-flavored red wines. For someone who wants the combo of big tannin without an associated jamminess, it’s a good choice, especially at the price point. Fans of either Bordeaux or California merlots/cabs might not be quite as enamored.

Vine Nu Uma Rebatedor: Vinho Branco

A few weeks ago, I received an invitation for a wonderful sounding wine-tasting luncheon at a restaurant called Faith and Flower featuring wines from Portugal. Hosted by a master sommelier, this looked like a fabulous experience. Except for one thing.

Faith and Flower is in L.A.

With my enthusiasm slightly muted, I dropped a line to Katelyn at R-West, who'd forwarded along the invite. I told her that I probably couldn't get there on my lunch hour, but I'd sure like to try a sample of the potential wines. Ever helpful, Katelyn agreed, and the wine fairy delivered a bottle of Luis Pato 2013 Vinho Branco to my door.

To back up just a moment, Portugal has long been known for port (duh) and sherry -- but the "regular" wines from there are picking up steam. I've touched on a few of those wines previously -- notably my rhythmic ode to Vinho Verde and introduction to varietals from around the Alentejo region.

The Luis Pato is from the Bairrada region in central Portugal, known for fragrant white wines and full-bodied, tannic reds. Sparkling wine is also produced there in some quantity, and there's a growing production of rose.

In case you're wondering, "Vinho Branco" is Portuguese for "White Wine." (As opposed to Vinho Verde, which is "Green Wine.") This particular bottle is made from a grape varietal known in that region as Maria Gomes. Who was Maria Gomes? No one seems to know. There are stories about a hundred-plus year old woman who passed away in 2011, and a former female Portuguese army general who swindled many folks out of money by masquerading as a man -- but there don't seem to be many links between those two and grapes. In any case, outside of the Bairrada, the grape is known as Fernão Pires. This varietal, whatever its name, is the most widely planted white grape in Portugal.

If, like me, your experience with Portuguese whites is largely based on Vinho Verde, this bottle will come as a bit of a departure. The nose is much "fuller," with apple and pear blossom scents which are typical of this grape. The body has some considerable weight, along the lines of a California chardonnay, but without much creaminess. The main flavors I got were Viognier-ish peaches backed up with a lemony tartness. The finish is a bit on the soft side, which surprised me, considering the acidity. I thought it was a pleasant, though hardly complicated drink. Overall, I would say that it's a good change-of-pace summertime table wine that's not an acid ball.

The serving recommendation from Luis Pato (who, from his website, looks like a very nice guy) is to have this with lighter fishes or some kind of shellfish. I went with an Italian-style shrimp and beans and it went nicely alongside. It retails for around $13, which is just about right.

(That title translates from Portuguese as "Naked Vine One-Hitter: White Wine," if you're curious...)

Alentejo, Portugal

Portuguese Wine.

I’ll be honest, I’d never given it a second thought. I knew that Port originally came from northern Portugal, and I’ve had my share of vinho verde, that summertime slightly sparkling slice of refreshment, but I’d never considered other wines from there, largely because I don’t remember seeing them in one of my regular wine store haunts.

Along came an opportunity to sample a few bottles of table wine from Portugal. As a public service, of course, I gave them a spin. We’ll get to them in a moment. A little background, first.

Portugal is actually fifth in the world in total wine export. The biggest importer of Portuguese wine is Angola with Brazil not far down the list (not surprisingly, since Portuguese is the national language in both places…) Much of that volume is comprised of Port, followed by headache-inducing pink wines like Lancers and Mateus. Vinho Verde is also gaining more of that market share. While Portugal grows some of the world’s more “common” grape varietals such as Syrah and Moscatel, most wines from Portugal are made from their abundant varieties of indigenous grapes – over 500 of them.

Like most European countries, Portuguese wine nomenclature generally follows the region of the country where the wine is produced.Vinho Verde, I learned, is not only the term for “green wine,” but is, in and of itself, a wine region. Other regions/wines include Douro (the most famous region – the birthplace of port), Dao, Bairrada, Colares, and Alentejo.

It’s the last region I mentioned, Alentejo, which produced the wines that I had the chance to try. Alentejo, as a region, covers a great portion of the southern third of Portugal. It’s not heavily populated and was best known around the world for the production of cork. However, it produces a great deal of the country’s red and white table wine, which was largely forgettable on the world stage. Over time, winemaking techniques improved along with the quality.

Since Portugal’s entry into the European Union in 1986, they adopted a similar quality classification system as several of the other countries. The “top” classifications are labeled DOC. The next step down is “Vinho Regional.” DOC is to Vinho Regional the same way you might consider Chablis to regular (white) Burgundy.

From the marketing materials I received with the samples, The broadening of the Portuguese wine market doesn’t seem to be focusing, at least initially, on “fine wine” – instead focusing on the “good table wine” range. [Note: many thanks to Jo Diaz from Diaz Communications for giving me the opportunity to try these wines.] So, how were they? I had the chance to sample a red and a white from two different producers: Finisterra and Alente. Finisterra sold around $7, Alente sold around $9.

The first one opened was the Alente 2007 Alentejo Red Wine (or “Vinho Tinto” if you prefer). This is a DOC wine. This is a blend of Trincadeira and Aragonez grapes. It’s a fairly light red. There’s not much of a nose on this wine – faint raspberry scents. The flavor is somewhat acidic with some soft tannins at the end. On its own, it wasn’t great, but the pairing suggestion was for Spanish-spiced food. We tried it with some leftover (and damned good, I must say!) ropa vieja that we’d made for a party. The wine was an OK accompaniment, but it didn’t do anything to set itself apart. Not my favorite.

We moved on to the Alente 2009 Alentejo White Wine (or “Vinho Branco”), another DOC entry made from Antão Vaz and Arinto grapes. There wasn’t much of a nose on this wine at all: some apples and light wood with a slightly astringent smell like a bandaid in the background. Once past that, the body was pleasantly fruity. It’s moderately acidic with apple flavors and a little bit of mineral kicking around. The finish is fruity and soft with a little pepper that kicks in at the very end. I had high hopes with this with a paella that I’d cobbled together, since it was about as close to regional cuisine as I could manage. It turned out to be a very nice complement, but, like its red brother, it wasn’t memorable.

Then came the Finisterra 2009 Alentejo Red Wine – This is a “Vinho Regional” made from Aragonez, Castelão, and Tincadeira. The nose was quiet with faint raspberry and strawberry, but the body was a very different experience. The flavor isn’t especially fruity – some dark fruit there, but it’s generally lean and tannic. The palate isn’t complex, but it’s pleasant and there’s a solid finish of coffee and dark chocolate. The tannins are pronounced without being too strong, so it’s very easy to drink. We found it to be a really nice food wine. We had this with a winter vegetable soup – plenty of butternut squash and leek and other earthy flavors. It worked really well in a context where my first thought would have been something in the neighborhood of Cotes du Rhone. A Cotes du Rhone wouldn’t have been nearly as good with end-of-meal chocolate, either.

Finally, the Finisterra 2009 Alentejo White Wine was an interesting quaff. This Vinho Regional blend of Antão Vaz, Siria, Rabo de Ovelha, and Perrum gave me a snootful of apples and lemons with an odd little “cheese” undertone. The flavor is initially pretty tart, but it calms down pretty rapidly. Light body with fairly high acidity with some oak. The finish turns quite oaky at the end. An oaky pinot grigio, if you need to draw some kind of parallel. This one didn’t make it to food. We opened this one afternoon and it made a nice companion to conversation. A pretty decent value for a “drinking wine.”

All in all, the Finisterra wines earned higher marks from us. I thought they were very solid values for table wine. I’d recommend them for sure.

I’m certainly going to keep my eye on Portugal moving forward. If you like Spanish table wines, but you’re looking for a slightly lighter-styled wine, Portuguese wines could be your alternative.

Technorati Tags: Portugal,wine,Alentejo

Vintner Select 20th Anniversary

On the 18th, thanks to an invitation from Brian Scott, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I had the good fortune to attend the 20th Anniversary grand tasting at the home warehouse of Vintner Select in Mason. As I've mentioned a few times, Brian has been a real source of wine knowledge and inspiration for me, and I was very pleased to be a part of the tasting. As I've also mentioned, if I'm wondering about a wine from France, Italy, or Spain, and I see "imported by Vintner Select" on the bottle, I can almost be guaranteed of a good bottle.

The event featured over 20 different wine distributors, each of whom poured some of the better wines from their catalogue. Additionally, there was a full room of excellent edibles, ranging from scrumptious paddlefish caviar raised locally by Renee at Big Fish Farms (coincidentally, my first "wine mentor"), organic produce from Farmer Jones in Sandusky, wonderful cured salmon from Just Cured in Cincinnati, and a variety of locally grown and raised meats, vegetables and cheeses whipped into delectable amuse-bouche by my esteemed neighbor Jean-Robert de Cavel.

But the wine was truly the star of the show. Specifically, the row of Italian winemakers. Apparently, these winemakers were already touring the US with their latest releases, and it happened that they all could simultaneously show their wines in Mason. So, what happens when you get this many Italian winemakers in one place?

The good stuff comes out.

When I say "good stuff," I'm talking about serious special-occasion wine. I must have sampled at least 15 different types of Barolo, and half a dozen types of Brunello di Montalcino. Absolute heaven. I don't know if I'll drink 15 different Barolo in the rest of my life, so I took full advantage of the opportunity to compare and contrast. The best of the bunch, in my estimation? The Molino 2005 Barolo Gallinoto and Molino 2005 Barolo Conca. Both these wines had exquisite structure, plenty of fruit, and were obviously built to age for the long haul. Even this young for Barolo, these wines showed head and shoulders above the rest. And at $45-60, they were extremely affordable for these types of wines.

In addition, there were some unbelievable ports from Porto Kopke (their "Glorious 50" port -- at around $140 retail for a 500 ml bottle -- was an explosion of unbelievable peach and deep fruit flavors.); a wonderful spread from George Hendry in Napa Valley -- ranging from their crisp rosé to knock-your-socks-off Primitivo and Cabernet Sauvignon; an incredible Blanc de Noirs Champagne from Cedric Bouchard; and any number of other winning selections.

And yes, there was even a spread that was entirely within Vine range. Many thanks to Sergio Reyes Moore from Montecastelli Selections from Chile for taking the time to walk the SPinC and I through his book. He had an entire table of selections that ranged in retail from $9-15. The "Chono" label wines were incredibly flavorful and approachable, especially the Carmenere and Syrah. His Sauvignon Blanc was as flavorful and crisp as you could ask for. His other label, "Rayun" were inexpensive and easy to drink...perfect "second bottle" wines for any occasion.

We left the tasting with full bellies, empty glasses, and happy hearts. An excellent experience all around. Here's to another 20 years...

Relax.

Welcome to the most exhausting time of the year.

Thanksgiving travel gives way to familial dinner table stress. Black Friday comes, with its yearly dose of lines, crowds, stampedes and shootings. Blood pressures rise. Tension mounts. TV, radio, email, Twitter, Christmas music on all stations, bad weather, road rage. The long stretch of holiday parties, shopping, budgetary woes, seasonal affective disorder, all screeching towards the end-of-month holidays and...finally...New Year's, after which everyone is too hung over to be stressed.

Repeat.

I'm tired just thinking about it all.

In our rare moments of downtime, calm is not something that we as Americans either value or savor. There's always something in the inbox, waiting on the DVR, or around any corner. Here at the Naked Vine, I'm proposing the Minute of Calm. At least once a day, every day, between now and the end of the year, I'm going to try to stop for sixty seconds and quietly reflect on...nothing.

Sounds easy, doesn't it? Try it. See if you can be still for one minute. Start...right...now.

Don't worry about me. I'll wait.

[tick...tick...tick...15 seconds...20...30...]

Couldn't do it, could you? Don't worry. Neither could I...at least not at first. I need at least something to distract that nervous little voice in my head. I needed an assist.

Of course, I went for the easy way out...a glass of wine. Something I could pour, sit back, and savor while I let my mind go dark. This site being an egalitarian place, I wanted to give you some options. For me, it's all about the time of day:

The Just-Home-From-Work Glass: Stepping over the threshold after my evening commute, drop the lunch bag on the counter, play with the pups, change into some sweats, reach for a glass and pour myself a dollop to pause and refresh. I generally want something a little crisp if this is going to be the Minute. Ecker 2007 Grüner Veltliner is a recent find that fits the bill. "Grapefruit and rocks" was my first thought after tasting this high-acid, cool white. It's fragrant for a Veltliner, and the flavors cut right through whatever stress might manifest on your tongue, both giving you a little jolt of energy and allowing you to sit back and unwind. Best of all, it comes in a 1 liter bottle, so you get a little extra for your $10.

The Relaxing Evening Glass: Sitting in a comfy chair or laid out on the sofa, a glass to exhale fully and then breathe in the bouquet. Something lovely and supple, like...say...a pinot noir. In this case, Bearboat 2006 Pinot Noir. One of the prettier wines I've had the opportunity to sniff in quite some time, the cherry/vanilla/smoke triumvirate of a good California pinot is in full effect here. First on the nose, and strongly on the tongue, the full fruitiness of this wine quickly slides into a smoky, sinuous middle and a long, lasting finish. Absolutely a delicious wine over which to sit and ponder the meaning of life. (And you could even invite a friend along if you felt social) Now, I'll be honest -- you may have a hard time finding this one for $15. I found it on sale, and after all -- you deserve it. Splurge if you gotta.

The Nightcap: Perhaps you're not going to get to spool down until just before you head for bed. One of the evening rituals around here is a piece of chocolate or a two-bite brownie with a glass of wine. That combination sends anyone into a deliciously contemplative mood, in my opinion. So, as winter's grip starts to tighten, get those port glasses out and pour yourself a dram or three of port to go with some chocolate. For this, I chose Graham's "Six Grapes" Reserve Port. A big, robust port, full of plums and cherries -- and a bouquet of fruit and pipe tobacco. (I kid you not.) A 375ml can be had for around $15. Well worth the price.

Don't let the holiday season overwhelm you. Focus on the peace and the calm wherever you may find it. Who knows? The Minute of Calm may last beyond New Year's. That may well be my New Year's resolution.

Wine for Makin' Whoopee...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Green Eggs and...Wine?

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

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

Do you like
that wine that's green?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Now about those eggs...

Tiny Bubbles...

Will summer ever end?

Perhaps you're luckier in your neck of the woods. Because just across the river from Cincinnati, it's frickin' hot. And humid. And dry.

(What does the cheap wine man mean -- humid and dry?)

Yep. Every day's the same for the last two months. Highs in the 90's. Muggy. But no rain. Ever. We're over a foot of rain short, and everything is dry, brown, and dead. In a normal summer, I'd expect that the heat and humidity would get blasted down occasionally by a good long rain shower -- but we've had nothing. We sit, plastered to the Weather Channel, watching the radar -- which often resembles a doughnut with I-275 as the hole.

I'm whining, aren't I?

In any case, everyone searches for a way to beat the heat -- to find some kind of refreshment, while at the same time not making you heavy and sleepy. For the obvious answer, let us turn to Brigitte Bardot:

"Champagne is the one thing that gives me zest when I feel tired."

Of course, the Woman God Created was French, so she wouldn't be considering other sparkling wines. We here at the Vine are neither Francophile nor Bardotophile enough to rule out other nationalities of sparkling wine. In fact, if you're looking for relief from the heat, looking outside France is a good idea.

Why? Many sparkling wines made outside of France are considered "semi-sparkling." These wines aren't as carbonated as full sparkling wines. There's a definition which includes the pressure within the bottle -- under "three atmospheres" of pressure is considered semi-sparkling. For our purposes, a semi-sparkling wine is very lightly carbonated and generally lower in alcohol, which means you can drink them most any time of day without getting tanked. (Now, once you go for the second bottle, all bets are off.)

I know many folks think beer when it's blazing hot, but sparkling wine's lighter than the lightest light beer, colder than other wines, as refreshing as sparkling water, and quickly makes you forget that there's anything wrong with the weather. One thing to remember about sparkling wine (aside from the hangover if you're not careful) -- while it's good to keep a bottle or two around, it's best not to store them in the fridge. After a week or so, the cold will kill the flavors. Just get up in the morning, realize the weather's going to be ugly, and put the bottle in. Your wine will be plenty cold by lunch.

I don't know if these would put the pep back in Brigitte's step -- but they work for me:

Gazela Vinho Verde -- One of the few Portuguese wines that you'll find these days. Vinho Verde translates as "Green Wine." The name refers more to the age of the wine than the color. The wine looks almost clear. The wine's a blend of red and white grapes and is intended to be drunk within a year of bottling. It has a light citrusy nose that moves easily into a slightly tart flavor. I'd call the Gazela a "sauvignon blanc lite" with its flavors of grapefruit and lemon. It's a little dry on the finish, and the dryness is amplified by a slight carbonation. Technically, this wine's not a sparkling wine, but I see bubbles when I open it, so it counts. It's extremely easy to drink and, at only 9% alcohol, you could "Drink this one for breakfast," as a wine mentor of mine used to say. The Gazela is easily locatable in your wine store -- the bottle's very distinctive. I found this on sale for $5. A great value, and a nice wine to have lying around.

Borgo San Leo Prosecco Brut -- I've become hooked on Prosecco as this summer wears on. I think it's one of the most refreshing wines out there. Prosecco is an Italian grape that can be used for either fully or semi-sparkling wine. I've not run into many of the full-sparkling versions of the grape. The Borgo has a light, crisp nose of apples and a little yeast. It's fruity and dry to the taste, again with a slight yeast taste. The dryness was unexpected, even with the "Brut" tag. I thought it would be sweeter, but it was much more like Champagne. It's certainly much less sweet than most Prosecco. Finish is very dry, but pleasant. For $9-10, it certainly helps ward off the heat.

René Barbier Mediterranean Pétillant Wine -- An interesting marketing ploy for a decent wine. "Vin Pétillant" is the French term for semi-sparkling wine (as opposed to "Vin Mousseux" -- full sparkling). You need to read the fine print to see that this wine is actually Spanish in origin and is from Friexenet, maker one of my standby sparkling wines. This wine reminds me of a Spanish version of vinho verde. The flavor profile is very similar, except that this one has more of a flavor of apple then lemon, as well as a little bit of a yeasty flavor more reminiscent of a full sparkling wine. Again, under 10% alcohol and refreshing. I also found this for under $5.

You could line these three up -- Gazela, Barbier, Borgo -- and have a very interesting side-by-side-by-side progression. They'd come across as cousins. Of course, you'd then have three bottles open, so try it with friends.

Stay cool, pour some bubbly, raise a glass, hope for rain, and heed the words of Tom Waits:

"Champagne for my real friends and real pain for my sham friends."

"For the Love of God, Montresor..." -- Adventures in Sherry

The Sweet Partner in Crime and I have our New Year's tradition. Going out on the Rockin' Eve does little for either of us. As a friend of mine once said of New Year's -- "It's Amateur Night."

We tend to be homebodies on December 31^st. We watch some basketball and some football -- and then settle in to making a big ol’ feed to pair with wines we haven't tried before. This year, we decided we'd try some sherries.

Sherry -- the name evokes images of deep shag carpet, wide lapels, ruffled blouses, and key parties. The quintessential 70's drink, every household was required by law to have at least one bottle of cream sherry on hand for highballs and nightcaps. Alternatively, there's usually a bottle of cooking sherry in any well stocked pantry. After our pleasant sojourns with Spanish wine, I thought it would be an interesting experiment to try the native Iberian drink.

What is sherry, anyway?

Preventing Fortunado from
driving drunk on New Years.

Sherry is fortified wine. In WineSpeak -- a "fortified" wine means that the winemaker's gone and added a bunch more alcohol. Many sherries are right around 18-20% alcohol. Sherry is made largely from the Palomino grape, but there's another grape called Pedro Ximénez often used in sweeter varieties. "Sherry" is also the region in Spain where all this wine is made ("Sherry" is a Anglization of "Jerez.")

Sherry is fascinating because of the method of production. Most winemakers do everything they can to keep their wine from air while fermenting. Sherry is an oxidized wine -- the winemakers fill the casks only halfway -- and then put the bung (translation: "big ass stopper which closes a cask") in loosely, so air can circulate during fermentation. While in the barrel, as much as 5% of the wine evaporates. As any veteran of a distillery tour can tell you, this is what's called "The Angel's Share." (which also happens to be a Ted Leo song title)

There's also what they call the "Solera System" of aging, by which an aged cask may be drained of as much of a third of its contents, and then young wine, made in the same style, is added to refill the cask, thus "refreshing the mother wine."

There are five basic types of sherry: Fino and Manzanilla are dry. Amontillado is aged for eight years and is dry to medium dry. Oloroso is also a medium dry sherry. Cream sherry is sweet. Fino and Manzanilla are made to be served well chilled. The others can be chilled slightly. (Also, Cream sherry is often poured over vanilla ice cream.)

Truth be told, it was the Amontillado that gave birth to this idea. As a recovering English major, Edgar Allan Poe, The Bard of Baltimore, was a favorite of mine. One of his signature short stories was "The Cask of Amontillado." (If you'd like to read it, go here for the full text. You can get through it in 10 minutes or less.)

Sherry is traditionally served in Spain with tapas. The SP in Crime and I are huge tapas fans, so we decided to have a meal in that style. If you're not familiar with tapas, it's basically scads of "small plate" appetizers. (A close Asian equivalent is dim sum, which we also love) We got ourselves some smoked salmon, a fish chowder (inspired by our Maine adventure), and a sort of semi-bruschetta with fresh mozzarella and chorizo. We got three bottles of Sherry. There's a saying in Spain regarding this wine: "We drink the dry and ship the sweet." So, we picked up a Fino, a Manzanilla, and (to satisfy my curiosity) an Amontillado.

We were…shall we say…surprised at what we found.

The first bottle we tried was Osborne Pale Dry Fino. The label doesn't lie -- this is a very light-colored wine. This sherry actually had a very nice nose -- a nice scent of almond oil. The taste was very neutral and dry. There wasn't a lot of flavor to it -- just a neutral alcohol taste that wasn't too strong. I realized why dry sherry and tapas go together so well. This type of sherry would be an excellent palate cleanser. It cut right through the oil of the salmon, and if it could do that, it would do the same with just about anything else. You could easily switch from food to food without a problem. In addition, the high alcohol content would make for a good start to any evening. This was, by far, the most drinkable of the sherries that we had. I could actually see pouring a glass of this with food. A bottle goes for about $10.

We bowled up the chowder and poured the Savory & James Deluxe Pale Dry Manzanilla.

Again, the sherry was very pale in color. The taste and bouquet were somewhat similar to the Fino, although it seemed slightly "wetter." It reminded me a bit of sake. If you like sake, I would imagine that you could pair this up with a plateful of sushi and you'd be OK. Otherwise, well…not so much. We did a side by side with the Fino, and the Fino was markedly more tasty. However, the chowder lacked something after a few bites, so I poured in a few splashes of the Manzanilla. What a difference! The soup took on a new, tastier character with a little Manzanilla added. However, for my $10, I could buy three bottles of cooking sherry.

We read that the Amontillado was better served with slightly heavier foods, so we had it with the semi-chetta. After being a little disappointed with the first two sherries, I was ready for an upswing. I wanted to know why poor Fortunado was tempted to his death by a cask of the stuff. We poured some Pedro Romero Amontillado. This wine was much darker than the other two. Since both Amontillado and Oloroso are aged longer, the tannins in the barrels impart a darker color. There was also a more pronounced bouquet -- reminding me very much of Madeira. Much more sugary and nutty. I was interested -- until I got the stuff in my mouth. Maybe I'm missing something, but this tasted like cooking sherry mixed subtly with paint thinner and lighter fluid. The taste almost made the SP in Crime gag.

From what I've read, Amontillado is supposed to be "darker and softer" than fino. I guess that's true -- in the same way that death by billy club is softer and darker than a strike through the heart with a rapier. This was about a $12 bottle. In the spirit of full disclosure, most wines that I don't care for end up as cooking wine. The number of bottles I’ve dumped can be counted on one hand. This Amontillado made the list. Perhaps I don't have the correct palate for it, but this was simply horrid.

I admit -- I'm a Sherry newbie. I don't know "good" sherry from "bad" -- and if any of you out there can give me better ideas, I'm open to suggestion. I don't know if I made poor choices or if I just don't know how to properly appreciate the stuff. However, with so much delicious Spanish tempranillo, albarino, and the like -- I don't see putting more money into the Sherry region anytime soon.

Oh, and don't worry about us going dry on New Year’s. Since the Sherry Experiment didn't work out -- we pulled some tasty selections from the cellar to more properly celebrate.

And no one got shackled to a wall.

Auld Lang Syne!