Slap On Another "Côtes"

I love doing side-by-sides with similar wines. In this case, I had the chance to give the once-over to a pair of Côtes du Rhône from slightly different classification.

As a quick refresher, Côtes du Rhône is (obviously) from the Rhone region of France and is the most widely available red wine from there. A wine labeled "Côtes du Rhône" can be made up from grapes grown anywhere within that region. This would be considered the "table" Côtes du Rhône.

There are other classifications for Côtes du Rhône. A wine labeled "Côtes du Rhône Villages" indicates a higher standard of quality -- and the blend of grapes must come from the eighteen "named villages" in the region.

Above that classification are those Côtes du Rhône which have the actual name of the single village from where the grapes are sourced. Puymeras, Vinsobres, and Chusclan are some examples.

Finally, there are "Côtes du Rhône Cru" -- which are from the best grapes around one of the particular villages. These wines are usually considered the best of the region, and some are known as the best wines in the world. Chateauneuf-de-Pape is the most famous of these Côtes du Rhône Cru, along with Côte-Rôtie, Condrieu (although mainly for whites) and Crozes-Hermitage.

Côtes du Rhône are always blends. There are 21 different grapes that can go into Côtes du Rhône, but the backbone of the wine is generally Grenache and Syrah. Wines from the northern Rhone tend to be Syrah-driven, while the hotter southern Rhone grows more Grenache.

Côtes du Rhône tend to be fruity, food-friendly wines. There's a pretty broad range of quality among Côtes du Rhône, and I was interested to see what this pair of bottles would yield. I tried the Les Dauphins 2014 Côtes du Rhône Reserve ($13) and the Les Dauphins 2015 Côtes du Rhône Villages Organic ($15). Both came primarily from the Southern Rhone, so they're Grenache-heavy.

You may note the "Reserve" at the end of the name of the first bottle -- and that I didn't mention it in the classification notes above. That's the case for the simple reason that...well...the "Reserve" doesn't refer to anything really in particular. It's simply a marketing term in France, just like it is here in the U.S. The only major wine producing countries that have legal requirements for "Reserve" are Spain and Italy.

The Reserve is one of the most reviewed wines on The Naked Vine -- this is the third time that it's popped up for me. It's a blend of 70% Grenache, 25% Syrah, and 5% Mourvedre. I sampled this vintage back in November around Thanksgiving time. It's a simple, straightforward, fruity red. Honestly, this bottle was so straightforward that I didn't find it particularly interesting. Red fruits came up front, followed by a middleweight palate and a softly tannic finish.

The Villages was considerably better, to my taste. This was a 60/30 Grenache/Syrah split, with  the remainder being divided between Mourvedre and Carignan. This was a much more interesting wine. The fruit was deeper and richer, with more plum notes and an earthier backbone. The tannins on the finish were chewier, and I thought it tasted much more "Old World" in style.

We tried both alongside some steaks that I'd grilled up -- grilled or roasted meats and strong cheeses are typical accompaniments to Côtes du Rhône. Again, the Villages was the better pairing with its more muscular tannin. If you have the choice, I'd suggest dropping the extra couple of bucks and going with the Villages.

Wine for Rehab Addicts

Home renovation shows are the Sweet Partner in Crime’s guilty pleasure. Especially the one where
an inordinately attractive person finds a suitably run-down or outdated target, starts a renovation, bickers and banters, runs into a complication that chews up the budget – but still manages to create a beautiful entryway out of wood reclaimed from an old gazebo they borrowed from a property up the road just in time for the big reveal…you know, that one. Or that one.

What does this have to do with wine? Well, we all like shiny things.

There’s an apocryphal “study” – that I’ve never been able to actually find anywhere – which allegedly states that the average person takes 38 seconds to select a bottle of wine. I’m not sure how exactly to read that. Were they controlling for the size of the wine store? Did they include choosing whether a person knew they were looking for red Burgundy or California Chardonnay?

Regardless...if you’re an everyday wine drinker, unless you have a particular bottle that go back to time and time again, wine buying is largely an impulse purchase. There’s the glance at the rack, a price comparison, a quick scan of any Parkerish scores that happen to be on the shelf, and the “Is a $10 wine at 88 points going to be different from this $15 at 90?” cross-reference.

And, of course, a purchaser looks at the label. Wine producers know this. We’re a long way from the days of plain wine labels with a winery, a region, a varietal, and a vintage. Bottle labels are packed with information now – tasting notes, food pairings, stories about how the wineries came to be. Each meant to distinguish one bottle from another, so a wine consumer can find what they’re looking for.

The current state of wine label marketing has been called “label porn” as producers try out newer, more eye catching, more quick-catchy displays and label artwork. Walk into any contemporary wine store and you’re deluged with an overwhelming array of funky fonts, cute art, and bright colors.

But cleverness only goes so far. Once everyone starts getting clever, then the buy me now message gets diluted. With all this variation, how can a producer get their bottle to call out “Pick me!”

One possible way? Make the bottle itself look different. Bargain-basement wines have done this for years – jugs of Almaden, lozenges of Mateus and Lancer, straw-covered cheap Chianti, or the hangovered fortifications of Black Tower are regulars. But among “normal” wines, a few standard bottle shapes and colors rule the shelves.

After getting a couple of interestingly-bottled samples, I popped down to Big Wine Store and did a pass through the aisles to snag a couple other interesting containers, with the notion of “When I’m done drinking this, could I repurpose the bottle into some interesting artifact” in mind:

Astoria 2014 “Caranto” Pinot Noir – Pinot isn’t something I usually think of when I think of Italian wine, but I’m always up for new things. Apparently, Pinot Noir grows in the northeastern corner of Italy, near Venice. I was quite pleasantly surprised by the quality of the wine. I’m used to lighter Italian grapes like Sangiovese and Valpolicella yielding light bodied wines – but this Pinot had a surprising amount of oomph. Nice palate weight with raspberries and cherries combining silkily. Smooth smoky tannins are nicely balanced and yield a smoky finish. It’s a solid wine. I was stunned to see it listed for around $11. A great value in this stubby, high shouldered bottle.

Vilarnau (NV) Brut Reserva Cava – Let’s just give props first for the beautiful label design – a colorful mosaic-ish riot of color that easily stands out from a row of Cava. I make no bones about my enjoyment of Cava, one of my favorite “Don’t think” sparklers, but this one gets a few bonus points from me. First, it’s a “brut” that’s actually brut. Many brut Cava either lack fruit flavors or taste like they have extra residual sugar. This wine has some lovely green apple and yeast aromas, but the palate is dry, crisp, and refreshing. One of the more complex, balanced Cava at its price point. And pretty!

Gérard Bertrand 2015 “Cote des Roses” Languedoc Rosé  -- A truly unique bottle style, tall and tapered, with the bottom of the bottle cut into the shape of a rose blossom, so you can show up at your intended’s door like:

The wine itself is minerally and crisp, with light strawberry and citrus flavors. I found lemon peel and stone on the finish. A really versatile rosé, workable with anything from porchtime sipping to spicy pork dishes. You should be able to find this for around $13.

The curved, feminine lines of the Aimé Roquesante 2015 Cotes de Provence Rosé also caught my eye in the pink aisle. This inexpensive, dry, strawberry-filled quaffer that looks lovely in both the bottle and glass. The salmony color is backed with a lean, zingy acidity and and friendly fruity finish. An excellent value at $10, as well.

Finally, while traipsing through the store, I came across a cute little high shouldered bottle, the Scholium Project 2009 Lost Slough Vineyards “Riquewihr” Gewurztraminer. The Scholium Project does small batches of grapes from interesting vineyards, using natural fermentation and long aging. Their small lots are mirrored in their small bottles. I likely would have let this one pass if it hadn’t been on deep sale, as for 500ml, it would have run $35+. This Gewurz, sourced from a vineyard outside Sacramento, fooled me into thinking it was a Viognier with its perfumey nose of peach blossoms that marches quickly into a minerally, Alsatian characteristic. Honestly, it was a very interesting wine, while not my favorite.

Now that you’ve got some extra glassware, let your ideas for objects d’art run wild. While my own mind generally doesn’t run towards design, I hope the SPinC will enjoy this:

Naked Vine Sporadic Tour de France Coverage -- Rhone Valley

Hello there, cycling fans. For a quick recap of the actual race, Chris Froome of the soon-to-be-dis-United Kingdom still holds the yellow jersey after 15 stages, leading the pack by 1'47", even after crashing, wrecking his bike, and running up Mount Ventoux. (How a person can run in cycling shoes is beyond me.)

Uh oh.

Our new friend Tejay Van Garderen, native of Tacoma, Washington, has acquitted himself well thus far, currently standing in 8th place, 4'47" behind Froome as the riders prepare to enter the Swiss Alps.

Over the last couple of days, the riders have been in and around the Rhone Valley, one of the more productive -- yet strangely overlooked by many American wine consumers -- wine regions in France.

The Rhone Valley is roughly divided into north and south sections by the River Drôme. The climate in the northern Rhone tends to be cooler than the south. The only red grape grown in the northern Rhone is Syrah. Viognier, Marsanne, and Roussane are grown for whites.

In the South, Grenache is the major grape of choice, although Syrah, Mourvèdre, Carignan and Cinsault are often included in red blends. Whites include Ugni blanc, Roussanne, Bourboulenc, Picpoul, Clairette and, in recent years, Viognier.

The Rhone's most famous wine is Chateauneuf-de-Pape, grown in the south. The north produces such yummies as Côte Rotie, Croze-Hermitage, Hermitage, and Condrieu -- the last being an expensive white made from Viognier.

However, for our purposes, most of the wines you'll see from the region will be labeled Cotes-du-Rhone. "Côtes-du-Rhone" (pronounced "Coat dew roan" as if you have a stuffy nose) can be made from grapes grown anywhere within the region. Reds labeled as such must contain at least 40% Grenache. The remaining 60% will be largely a blend of the red grapes we've already mentioned. The south produces 80% of the wine, so most of the wines you see labeled "Côtes-du-Rhone" are going to be from the south and will be dominated by Grenache, sometimes as a single varietal.

Côtes-du-Rhone cranks out a lot of very good, very approachable red wine. These wines tend to be drunk young -- within five years of bottling. These reds tend to be medium bodied with lots of cherry and dark berry flavors. The "old world funk"/earthiness classic to many French reds is usually there to some extent -- but not as powerfully as in many Bordeaux. Even so, these are usually great wines to go with anything earthy or sausagey -- or even just to uncork and pass around. The main issue with CdR is that the quality can be all over the place. Because there's such a broad variety in the various blends, finding a consistent CdR can be a challenge. The flipside is that, with a little research, one can find a CdR that fits almost any palate. Ask your friendly wine store person for assistance.

I had the chance to try the Les Dauphins 2013 Cotes du Rhone Reserve Rouge recently. It's a straightforward, bold red with a nose of cherries and other dark fruit. I got a burst of fruit at the first sip, but that yields fairly quickly to a mild flavor of tannin and graphite. Finish is softly tannic, although the tannin builds after a few sips. I thought it was a pretty solid red wine for almost all occasions. You could put this up against barbecue chicken or pork or grilled steak and veggies and do quite well. It retails for about $13, which is around the price you'll find many CdR.

I mentioned that there are also whites in this region, although they are fewer and farther between. 80% of the blends of those wines have to be made up of the above varietals. These wines tend to be medium bodied and food friendly, especially as an aperitif with appetizers. One example is the M.Chapoutier 2014 “Belleruche” Cotes-du-Rhone Blanc, a blend of Grenache Blanc, Clairette and Bourboulenc, which started me out with a nose of pineapple and a little wood. The body was medium weight with a nice creaminess. I thought it was interestingly complex for the price point ($12-13) with tropical fruit flavors backed with a gentle acidity. Its finish is fairly long and somewhat tart. An interesting change of pace for your table.

As I mentioned, the Tour turns northward into the French and Swiss alps next. We'll keep you posted as best we can...

Champagne Charlie, the Lonely Widow, and Bubbles $60 Apart...

I had the opportunity to try a bottle of pretty high-end Champagne. Specifically, the Champagne Charles Heidsieck Brut Reserve, which typically retails for somewhere in the $60-70 per bottle range.

I was feeling a bit cheeky during a trip to Smaller Wine Store. On a whim, I decided to snag the least expensive bottle of French bubbly I could to do a side-by-side tasting. That bottle was the Veuve du Vernay Brut Sparkling Wine. “Crisp and Fresh” the label read in French and English, right beside its $9 pricetag. I set out to determine whether the premium Champagne was really sixty bucks better than its cheapo country cousin.

My somewhat cynical attempt at an easy column theme didn’t quite work out as planned, but let’s come back to that. First, the wines themselves.

If the name “Heidsieck” rings a bell with you, you’ve probably seen the name “Piper-Heidsieck” on the side of a pricey bottle of Champagne at some point. Piper-Heidsieck was founded by Florens-Louis Heidsieck, Charles Heidsieck’s great-uncle. Charles’ father, Charles-Henri, founded the Champagne house that now bears his name.

You might also know Charles Heidsieck from the fascinating historical case of international intrigue. In the early 1850’s, Heidsieck visited New York and New England with cases of his family’s Champagne. (His father, Charles-Henri, founded their Champagne house in the early 1800’s.) Predictably, his bubbly was a huge hit among the NYC glitterati, and he became known across the country as “Champagne Charlie.”

With the outbreak of the Civil War, Heidsieck ran into trouble. Many of his outstanding debts, especially those in the Confederacy were unpaid. Whether because of legal decisions from both governing bodies eliminating debt owed across the Mason-Dixon, or whether Heidsieck’s American partners were swindling him, the result was the same.

Heidsieck traveled to New Orleans in secret, evading the Union Army by going clear to Kansas, and accepted payment for his champagne in cotton, scarce in Europe because of the North’s naval blockade. His ships attempted to run the blockade, but were sunk. Heidsieck was captured and imprisoned as a Confederate spy as he tried to return to New York. This diplomatic tussle became known as “The Heidsieck Incident” as Napoleon III lobbied Abraham Lincoln for months over his release.

Heidsieck was eventually released and returned to France nearly penniless. (His misfortune was short-lived. One of his other southern debts was paid off with deeds to land – which turned out to be about a third of the property in the newly founded village of Denver, Colorado…)

The Veuve de Vernay has its own little story. The original owner of the winery, Robert Charmat, is the son of Jean Eugene Charmat, the French scientist who developed the Charmat Method – the “other” method of carbonating wine used most often in Prosecco. A widow in the town of Vernay in the Rhone region had bankrolled John Eugene’s work, so Robert named the wine in her honor.

Moving to the present, Champagne Charlie’s signature bottle is a blend of 40% Pinot Noir, 40% Chardonnay, and 20% Pinot Meunier. Of that blend, 40% is made of up wines from Heidsieck’s 10-year old “reserve” wines to add depth and complexity. Each methode Champenoise-carbonated bottle is aged for a minimum of five years. The Veuve de Vernay, carbonated with the Charmat Method of course, is a blend of Colombard, Chardonnay, and Sauvignon Blanc.

To start our comparison, I subjected the Sweet Partner in Crime to a blind tasting of the two wines. Not surprisingly, she was able to discern the two fairly easily. The Heidseck is an austere, elegant wine. The bouquet is a complex combination of yeast, apricot, and apple blossoms. There’s a twisting balance of green apple, nuttiness, and cream on the palate, with an extended, sparkly finish. This wine is clearly crafted with great care, which the pricetag reflects.

We found the VdV much more straightforward in bouquet and flavors. Pear and peach were more in the forefront here, and the palate was much more crisp than creamy. The carbonation didn’t feel as “smooth” as the Heidseck. The finish was fruity with just a hint of sweetness at the very end. That said, though, this is a pretty damned decent bottle of bubbles. For less than ten bucks, this wine is superior to almost any sparkler you’ll find.

We also tried both of them with our dinner. I seared up some sea scallops and put them over some couscous alongside roasted red and orange bell peppers, garlic cloves, and fennel. The VdV was a good accompaniment, but the Heidsieck was culinary ecstacy. Something about those nutty, yeasty flavors next to scallops seared in butter entangled gloriously.

In thinking about doing the comparison, doing an actual apples-to-apples comparison of these wines isn’t fair to either, honestly. The VdV isn’t trying to be a premium wine. It’s an inexpensive bottle of bubbles perfect for cracking with a pizza or fried chicken. On the other hand, the Heidseick is intended to be a sophisticated wine for a sophisticated occasion, whatever your definition of “sophisticated.”

For me, personally, I have a hard time justifying a $70 pricetag for Champagne, since there’s usually a lower-cost alternative that’s nearly as good. However, if you’re really looking to treat yourself – or someone else – and money’s not really your primary consideration, you’re going to be in good hands with the Heidseick. Is it a better wine than the Veuve du Vernay? Absolutely. But I sure as heck won’t make be making a “Heidseick Bellini” anytime soon. 

Grenache -- Show Some Love!

I’ve been on a Grenache kick lately. This grape, grown…

…wait, come back! Where are you going? This is not a parody column! Get your noses out of the air and belly up to the bar.

I know, I know – your notion of Grenache may have been formed the same way mine was – commercials in the 80’s for Gallo White Grenache, a pinkish concoction (which I believe you can still get if you walk past the Boone’s) poured over ice. You know, something like this:

The commercials claimed “It will change the way you think about Gallo.” While I can’t speak to that, it certainly poisoned the way I think about the poor Grenache grape for quite some time!

Along similar lines, when the Sweet Partner in Crime and I were starting down our slippery wine-drinking slope, we used to go through Rosemount Estates Grenache-Shiraz – a dirt-cheap Australian red blend – by the virtual bucketful. At the time, it seemed perfectly drinkable, and it was a couple of dollars per bottle less expensive than the straight Rosemount Shiraz.

These days, if I recommend a Grenache to someone, about half the time they’ll look at me like I have a second head, because that’s the image Grenache has with many folks: cheap, uninteresting wine. What changed my outlook on this grape? As I’ve learned and consumed more, I’ve come to think of Grenache as the “red Chardonnay.”

Why? First off, it’s an incredibly ubiquitous grape. There are more acres of vineyard planted with Grenache in the world than any other red grape and the vines are generally quite high-yielding. These yields are a prime reason for Grenache’s bad name in the states, since a lot of those grapes landed in cheap jug wine. Forget the jugs, but remember the high yield. Because of this, winemakers can have plenty of raw material to work from, so even well-made Grenache tends to be less expensive compared to other grapes, so there are plenty of bargains to be had.

Secondly, like Chardonnay, Grenache-based wines are incredibly terroir driven. Grenache juice on its own, produces a light-styled wine, so the flavors derived from climate and soil can really shine. Good growers and winemakers, through smart cultivation, blending, and skill, can wrangle fascinating results from this grape. And they have all over the world, for years.

Finally, spring is turning to summer. Since Grenache is generally somewhat lighter in style, it makes a great red wine option when the heat starts cranking up, especially if you’re interested in something that has a little more oomph than, say, a Beaujolais. There’s a smoky undercurrent to most Grenache that just calls for food, especially grilled food.

A couple of weeks ago, K2, my Brother in Things Wine, invited me to do a tasting with him at the Party Source. I wanted to spread the word about my new grapey affection, so we ran down a series of Grenaches from around the world to educate folks on just how good this underappreciated grape can be. We put together an “around the world” Grenache tasting to show the breadth of what this grape can do.

We started our world tour in Spain, where Grenache is known as Garnacha. Many of the wines you’ll see from Spain’s Navarra region are blends that include a lion’s share of Garnacha. Garnacha is second only to Tempranillo among red grapes in the Rioja region, as well. Garnacha thrives in the Mistral winds, but rather than yielding a high-alcohol fruit bomb, it yields a lighter, smokier drink, like the Campo Vieja 2012 Rioja Garnacha. This is a quaffable wine with a very pretty floral and cherry nose. While light-bodied, it’s got good structure and finishes with lingering pepper and spice. Grilled pork, ribs, or ham would be great with this. ($18)

From there, we nipped over to Italy, specifically to the island of Sardinia. Here, Grenache goes by the alias Cannonau. The volcanic soils of Italy lend the traditional Italian minerality (which I think tastes a little “chalky”) to the finished product. Sardinian Cannonau, perhaps because of the particular terroir, has some of the highest levels of reservatrol of any red wine in the world. That’s the compound that makes red wine so good for your heart. For an example here, we had the Argiolas Costera 2009 Cannonau di Sardegna.($14) If you’re a fan of Italian wines, I’d put this somewhere between Chianti and Barbera on the “mineral vs. fruit” scale. Black cherry and licorice are the flavors I found most prevalent, but with minerality that would make it welcome next to a big plate of red sauced pasta.

For a change of pace, we headed down under to Australia. As I mentioned, Grenache was used in a lot of inexpensive plonk for quite some time, but in many regions, such as McLaren Vale, winemakers are exploring what this grape can do. In Australia, Grenache gains some heft on the palate and becomes much more fruit forward. A perfect example is the d’Arenberg 2009 “The Custodian” Grenache. ($13) Rather than the cherry and spice the previous wines showed, this one featured much richer blackberry and raspberry flavors, and the tannins turned much smokier. It’s quite a bold, pretty wine, in my estimation, which would be great with anything you might find sizzling on your grill.

The touchstone of Grenache, however, is in France. Grenache, along with Syrah, are the dominant grapes of the entire Rhone region. The finest (and most expensive, generally) wines in the Rhone, Chateauneuf-de-Pape, are made from as much as 80% Grenache. The less-expensive Rhone wines, usually labeled “Cotes-du-Rhone” are almost always made up of a majority of Grenache. That was no different with the wine we chose to illustrate French Grenache, the Cercius 2011 Cotes-du-Rhone, a blend of 85% Grenache and 15% Syrah. This is a rich, earthy wine that filled my nose and mouth with blackberries and a healthy dose of an earthy funkiness. It’s layered and complex with a finish that lasts and lasts. With any sort of roasted meats or vegetables, this would be a winner. ($16)

Finally, we arrived back in the States. The renaissance of Grenache in the U.S. was driven by a group of California winemakers in the 1980’s (led by Randall Graham) known colloquially as the “Rhone Rangers.” They thought certain varietals usually found in the Rhone, including Grenache, would respond well to certain California terroir. In general, California versions of these wines tend to be rounder and fruitier, and the Tablas Creek 2010 Patelin de Tablas ($19) from the Paso Robles region was no exception. This asskicker of a wine, which actually is a blend of Syrah, Grenache, Mourvedre, and Counoise, comes on strong with a full mouth of blueberries and blackberries, but also a bit of a bacony flavor through the midpalate and onto the long, fruity finish. This was easily the biggest of the fine wines we poured and was the overall favorite of the folks who stopped by the table.

So…enough with the poor reputation of Grenache! Go get a bottle and try it out. As you can see, you’ve got many variations on the theme with which to experiment. Try them out this summer and beyond. Who’s with me? 

A Super Basic Primer on French Red Wine

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

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

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

Let’s rock around the clock, shall we?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wine & Dinner of the Month Club - January

So here we are with the last of the Wine/Dinner of the Month Club entries (that is, unless Mike gives me a bump up in my royalties). This month, for only the second time, we go on the road. Christine and I headed out to West Virginia for some cross country skiing at White Grass Ski Touring Center. We try to get out there at least once a winter, hoping for good snow. This year there was plenty and the trails were as good as I have ever seen them. So good, in fact, that I hardly fell at all which is a pretty good measure of conditions. We were joined by our friend Patty in a cute little rental cottage with a hot tub. The kitchen conditions were a little less ideal than the skiing conditions, but we made the best of it and had a great meal. No recipe links this month, but the recipes should be easy enough to find from the sources below. One other note, the pictures are not their usual high quality. We forgot to bring our camera and wound up taking the pictures with Patty’s cell phone, but I think they give a good sense of how everything turned out. Bon appétit.

Menu

• Mushrooms Stuffed with Walnuts & Cheese. (The Silver Palate Cookbook, by Julee Rosso & Sheila Lukins with Michael McLaughlin © 2007 Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins)
• Spanish Style Braised Lentils with Sausage and Chard. (The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook, Third Edition © 2010 by The Editors at America’s Test Kitchen. A well received Christmas gift from the lovely Christine.)
• Cherry Pie. (Delivered by Patty.)

Wine
2005 Alain Paret Valvigneyre Cotes-du-Rhone

While Christine and Patty were taking a well deserved après ski soak in the hot tub--I had been in earlier and got out to start dinner--I worked on the stuffed mushrooms. These are super easy to make. You simply prepare the filling, stuff the mushroom caps with stems removed, and pop in the oven. The filling is mostly walnuts and spinach, with a little of two kinds of cheeses in the filling (gruyere and feta) to give great flavor and texture without being overly rich. Patty, who is not huge fan of mushrooms, said, “I could eat these every night for the rest of my life!” I’m not convinced that wasn’t the Maker’s Mark 46 talking that she and Christine were enjoying in the hot tub earlier, but the mushrooms were very good.

Christine and Patty both helped in making the main dish because there was quite a bit of chopping to do. It wouldn’t have been a problem at home, but with the limitations of the rental kitchen, it was nice to have some extra hands helping out. We substituted regular brown lentils for the lentils du Puy called for in the recipe. They worked fine and actually required a little less cooking time. We also used some chi-chi, non-antibiotic packaged andouille chicken sausages instead of the kielbasa called for in the recipe (Christine did the grocery shopping). This worked out as well, but after browning the sausage, there was very little fat in the pan, which is what you are supposed to use to cook the rest of the dish. I just added a little olive oil to the pan to make up the difference. One nice thing is that this is pretty much a one dish meal, which makes for easy clean up. I baked a quick loaf of crusty bread and plated up the meal. Both the mushrooms and the lentil dish had a lot of very earthy flavors. We all felt the wine did as well and so it was a great accompaniment to both dishes.

Patty had been kind enough to bring a cherry pie (my personal favorite) for dessert. Here the evening took a peculiar turn. We took the pie and a bottle of prosecco (and Christine in her pajamas) and drove into the little town of Davis to visit with a couple of Patty’s friends who were also out for a ski weekend. To protect the innocent, we’ll just call them The Russian and The Russian’s Boyfriend. Once there we all enjoyed some pie and prosecco. Some of us also had some of the Russian’s Russian vodka and a little more Maker’s Mark. I think the skiing the next morning was a little rough for at least one of us, but we all had a good time and I have to say it was probably one of the more eventful and entertaining of the past year’s wine dinners.

From the Mailbag

I start this installment with a hearty thank-you to my readers -- both those who have known me and my interest in wine since well before the Naked Vine first took seed (and I think the DJ at Radio Free Newport can probably remember the precise conversation) to the new friends that I've made along the way. To all of you, I say, heartfelt, that I'm glad you're along to raise a glass or two with me.

My wine knowledge is hardly encyclopedic. The most educational side effect of writing this column is learning about new, useful wines. I've had a number of suggestions from fellow lovers of The Grape, and I want to share their selections.

Alice White 2005 Lexia -- Vine reader Ginny M. from Raleigh, NC says, "One that you might want to try is Alice White, Lexia. It has a pleasant sweetness and an incredible fruity aroma. [My husband] hates it, but I think it is divine to drink in the hot weather." Much like Viogners, this wine seems to divide couples. Many men I've spoken to find these varietals too sweet for their tastes. I, of course, am comfortable enough in my masculinity to embrace such a wine…

The Lexia is a strongly fragrant white wine -- stronger even than most Viogners or Rieslings I've tried. Lexia is made from Muscat grapes -- one of the oldest grape varieties. Muscat is well-known for producing wines with a perfumey nature. This grape varietal is best known for use in Italian dessert wines and as a blend in some French wines. The Alice White starts you with a pungent bouquet of mangoes, flowers, and honey. The first taste is very sweet -- more honey than sugar. This sweet broadens into a slight tartness accompanies by apricot. The finish is surprisingly more acidic than one would expect. This wine is sweet enough to be considered a dessert wine -- but could also stand up to spicy Thai or Indian curries quite nicely. If you like a sweeter taste, you should try this decent entry into the pool wine category. However, if you're more into tart, dry whites, you're better off looking elsewhere with your $5-8. (Or, at the very least, farther down the column.)

La Vieille Ferme 2003 Cotes du Ventoux -- Vine reader Dan R. from Eugene, OR offered up this suggestion: "Our favorite cheapies this year have been two Rhone reds: Abel Clement Cotes du Rhone and La Vielle Ferme. Both can be found under $8, and both are genuinely good and not overly simple. Notably, for inexpensive wines, both open up a lot with breathing. Abel Clement, in particular, deserves at least an hour out of the bottle."

Unfortunately, I was unable to track down the Abel Clement, but the La Vielle Ferme was readily available and quite decent. As Dan mentioned (as well as with many French wines) the La Ville Femme is better if you crack the bottle a half hour or so before drinking. The earthy characteristics of many European, especially French, wines can take some getting used to. These aromas can overpower many a palate, but a little decanting (WineSpeak for "letting a little air get to the stuff") can ease the initial shock. One other note: "Cotes du Ventoux" is the region the wine was made, not the grape. The naming standard for French wines can be a little confusing, and I'll touch on that in a later column. This wine is a blend of largely grenache and syrah grapes.

The La Vielle Ferme greets you with a fat smell of freshly turned earth and blackberries. The first taste is a bit tart, with some deep fruit flavors with the earthiness. The finish is somewhat smoky and dry. Like most French wines, lamb, root vegetables, grilled meats, veggie chili, and most stews with beans (cassoulet being the quintessential example) would be excellent. You can take this little trip to the Rhone valley for about $6-8.

Veramonte 2005 Sauvignon Blanc -- Vine reader Mike B. of Mariemont, OH, gives me this suggestion: "Here's a couple of suggestions for wines that you might want to review/consume sometime. I think they are both great values and great tastes.

"Akanena 2005 Chardonnay (Chile) The label says "carefully handpicked" but I don't know if it refers to the grapes or the bottle…I thought it was great -- light for a Chardonnay with that citrus tone that I like.

"Veramonte 2005 Sauvignon Blanc (Chile). Currently my favorite SB, lots of grapefruit flavor."

South America, Chile in particular, is one of the rising stars among the wine making ranks. Among whites, Chile specializes in sauvignon blanc, and their chardonnays are improving quickly. [I'll likely do a more complete column on Chilean wines in the upcoming weeks -- as they're some of the best values going at the moment.] I was unsuccessful in a quick search for the chardonnay, but the Veramonte is available everywhere. The wine has a pleasantly light nose -- gentle citrus fruit and wildflowers at first sniff. Like many sauvignon blancs, the taste is lively and tart -- strong grapefruit and pineapple flavors immediately spring to mind. The finish is gently acidic and dry. The Veramonte is an extremely pleasant summer sipper, pairing scrumptiously with any light chicken dish, Caesar salad, grilled fish, or even a slightly spicy Chinese dish -- think Hunan. The Veramonte runs $7-9, and is well worth the price for the end of summer.

Hawk Crest 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon -- Vine reader McGrupp from Charlotte, NC gives us: "In the past three days I've had a $50 bottle, a $20 bottle, and a $12 bottle [of cabernet] and I found them all to be roughly the same level of quality. This leads me to believe I need to be focusing on that $12 option." The $12 option he mentioned was Hawk Crest.

Many of the high-end wineries, especially California wineries, produce "second label" wines. These wines are generally very good, since an elite winemaker isn't going to produce "ordinary" wine. To the value-conscious consumer, these are some of the better quality/value combos you'll find. Hawk Crest is the second label of Stag's Leap in Napa, California. A bottle of Stag's Leap cabernet sauvignon will set you back close to $50, while the Hawk Crest settles in between $12-15. Learning about second labels almost always yields bargains. Again, more on those later.

As for the Hawk Crest itself -- the wine has a soft, smooth nose of plums, vanilla, and wood. Like any good cabernet, it's a mouthful when you taste it. You get waves of big black cherry flavors and a fair amount of tannic bitterness -- not overwhelming, since it's balanced by the continuing vanilla taste. The finish is long and dry, with a little fruit hanging on. I imagine a ribeye, a baked potato, some steamed broccoli, and a big ol' glass of this one.

Again, thanks so much to everyone -- keep the suggestions coming!

Until next time -- skaal.