"Crap! What did I do to myself?"

Hangovers -- a hazard of the occupation.

No one can work with wine without tipping back too much from time to time. The morning after. The headache, the nausea, and the sun, as Nicholas Klar wrote, "is like God's flashlight." Nobody to blame but yourself.

But what if the pain isn't your fault? What if you only had a glass or two and your head feels like John Bonham has been using your forehead for a snare? I've had more than one person say to me, "I like red wine -- but I can't drink it. If I even sip the stuff, I get a massive headache." At the wine salon, two different people told me versions of that very thing. The "red wine headache" is a not uncommon malady. I wanted to see if, as a public service, I could track down the cause. After all, what good is wine if you can't enjoy it?

The first explanation I generally stumble across: "It's the sulfites in the wine! Red wine has all these sulfites in the U.S. I've gone to [insert European country of your choice here] and the wine doesn't have sulfites in it, so I can drink it just fine. And I can drink white wine until the cows come home, but red wines just lay me out." So, to cover my bases, I decided to go with an imported white wine. I used Il Palazzone 2006 Orvieto Classico Superiore Terre Vineate for this. ($10-13) It's a very flavorful white wine. (Side note: I'm warming more and more to Italian whites these days.) This wine has a nose of flowers and licorice. It's medium bodied with some soft citrusy flavors and a little bit of oak. It has a very easy finish. Tasty to drink on its own, but with shellfish or a light fish dish, it's very nice.

I thought I'd solved the mystery. Find unsulfited wines and you're fine, right? There are some of them out there. Unfortunately, a little more research turned up one very interesting fact: White wines almost always have more sulfites than red wines.

There is such a thing as a sulfite allergy -- it usually causes breathing problems. It's also a pretty rare condition. These are generally people who can't eat dried fruit and the like, since it causes them breathing problems. Why more sulfites in whites? Sulfites are used as preservatives. Red wine has a natural preservative built in, generally. Tannin. Wines that age well are usually tannic, so…maybe avoiding tannic wines might stop the headaches.

For a low tannin wine, I used DuBoeuf Domaine de Grand Croix 2006 Brouilly Beaujolais. ($10-13) This wine is darker in color and somewhat richer than many Beaujolais. It sports a fairly strong nose of cherries and blackberries. There's plenty of fruit balanced nicely with a solid acidity. Nice crisp finish, too. It cuts nicely through spices. I made a Thai beef noodle soup with it, and it was very tasty.

Tannins are known to cause a release of serotonin in the brain. High levels of serotonin can trigger a migraine. However, wine's not the only source of tannin in a diet, and no one's ever complained of a tea or chocolate headache. So, back to the drawing board.

A third possibility is histamines. Histamines can trigger an allergic reaction in some people, brought on by a lack of a certain enzyme in the bloodstream. This reaction can cause headaches, as well as flushing or runny nose. The levels of histamines in red wines are between 20-200% higher than in whites. Spanish reds are often lower in histamines, so I went with the Martin Codax 2005 "Ergo" Rioja Tempranillo. ($10-12) The Codax albarino went very well with New Year's dinner for us, and the Tempranillo was also quite positive. The nose was of dark fruit and spices, almost like cherry cobbler. The wine's lighter than it smells. Some nice berry flavors and well-balanced light tannins.The finish is easy and somewhat dry.

Histamines seem to be a somewhat more likely culprit for these headaches, although there hasn't been conclusive research on low vs. high histamine wines. Even so, defense against histamines may fight off some of the headaches. A person can drink a cup of strong black tea before drinking red wine. A compound in black tea suppresses a histamine response. Aspirin before drinking can also help, although aspirin after the headache kicks in won't help. An antihistamine might stop the headache. However, because of the alcohol, you might be in for a very short night if you pop a Benadryl and down a couple of glasses of wine.

If you are one of those unfortunate souls that suffer from "red wine headaches," there's a simple (potentially painful) test. Drink half a glass of red wine. If the wine is truly the cause of your headache, then you'll get one within 15 minutes. Otherwise, it's not the wine -- it's probably the amount of it that you drank that fateful night. B-12, Gatorade, ginger ale, and a sub from Penn Station the next morning are better bets to help you out. If you determine that it's actually the wine causing your suffering, try the black tea or the aspirin. After all, why should headsplitting pain be a barrier from enjoying the good stuff?

h/t to Dr. Tom for the post title...

Prospero Año Nuevo!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Salud y amor!

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?

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!

Ringing in the New Year -- Champagne & Sparkling Wine

As we close 2006, I figured we'd end the annum with the traditional New Year's drink. After all, what's New Year's Eve without a little bubbly…

Champagne is the region in France where this celebration-and-headache-inducing wine originated. "Champagne," in common parlance, has come to mean any sparkling wine. The only wines that are truly "champagnes" are from the French region, so when you hear "This champagne's not Korbel!" -- that statement is 100% accurate. Korbel is from Sonoma, California -- so the correct phraseology would be "This Korbel's not Champagne!" Most non-French producers now simply label their productions as "sparkling wine."

However, a useful related term to know is "Méthode champenoise." If a sparkling wine bears this designation, the bottle has been carbonated in the traditional style of the Champagne region. This process was discovered by a French monk by the name of (wait for it…) Dom Pérignon. This procedure is near and dear to my heart as a homebrewer -- as I bottle-condition homemade beer with practically the same process. Here's how it works:

After a wine has barrel-aged for what a winemaker deems a proper length of time, the wine is bottled with a little extra sugar and yeast and capped. The additional yeast and sugar causes fermentation -- but since the CO2 cannot escape, the bubbles are forced back into the wine, carbonating it. This step is where homebrewers stop, since we don't mind the lees (WineSpeak for "leftover dead yeast") in the bottle bottom. However, as most wine drinkers prefer a clear product, we proceed to step called "riddling" after the carbonation is complete and the wine has "rested on the lees" for an appropriate length of time (usually at least a year).

During riddling, the bottles are racked with the neck pointing downward about 45º. The yeast settles into the neck of the bottle. The bottles are turned a quarter turn every day or more often and the downward angle is increased. After a month or two, we are ready for the removal of the yeast or "dégorgement." At this stage, the neck of the bottle is plunged into a sub-freezing liquid, and the settled yeast freezes into a plug. When the plug is fully formed, the cap is removed and the carbonation forces the plug from the bottle. The bottle is then quickly corked and "caged." You're ready to go.

There are, of course, less expensive methods of bottling, but méthode champenoise tends to create the best quality of carbonation (meaning the tiniest, longest lasting bubbles) and flavor. The carbonation also tends to force the alcohol into your bloodstream more quickly, causing the "quick drunk" of champagne, as well as the intensified potential hangover, so keep that in mind.

Sparkling wines can be made from just about any varietal of grape. Traditionally, they're either made from chardonnay ("blanc de blanc"), pinot noir ("blanc de noir"), or a blend of a number of other grapes.

One final important note when choosing a sparkling wine. There are three basic flavor profiles. They are, from driest to sweetest: Brut, Extra Dry, and Demi-Sec. Yes, you're reading that correctly -- Extra Dry is not as dry as Brut. There is also a fourth category, Doux, which is very sweet -- but I haven't seen much of that. My personal preferences tend to fall on the drier end of the spectrum, but your mileage may vary.

I would also be remiss in a sparkling wine column if I didn't include a quick note on opening these bloomin' bottles. While it's a great deal of fun to take the cage off, put both thumbs under the cork's ridge, and launch the cork off three walls or partygoer's noggins and drench yourself and everyone around you like you were Jim Edmonds in the Cardinals locker room a couple of months ago -- you're doing three problematic things. First, you're gonna put an eye out. Second, you're wasting the carbonation. Third, if you get a nice fountain of foam, you're WASTING WINE. Do. Not. Do. This.

Instead: get a towel, remove the cage from the cork, put the towel over the cork and grasp it firmly. Twist the cork gently and slowly back and forth. The cork will start to come loose. Ideally, you'll release the carbonation with a small pop or hiss instead of that loud POP. If you open the bottle like this -- not only are you protecting your guests, but the bottle often retains its carbonation for hours. If you don't finish the bottle that night, put a bottle stopper in and you'll have perfect mimosa makings.

Here are a couple of offerings as you do your party planning:

Gruet “Methode Champenoise” Brut Sparkling Wine – Gruet is a winery in New Mexico which produces very solid, inexpensive sparkling wine. As you can see, Gruet does traditional style carbonation. Since they produce such solid wine, I appreciate them taking the extra time to carbonate it properly. This wine is also the traditional blend of grapes: Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. As with most Brut, this wine is very dry and crisp. A little grapefruit nose and green apple flavor. A very nice, sharp, bubbly wine for any occasion. (Many sparkling wines also come in half-bottles, which is a nice option if you're doing a tasting.) While most people think of these wines as either for a party or after a meal, dry sparkling wine goes very well with any number of foods. My wine mentor, Renee Koerner, clued me into a great secret about sparkling wines. Most countries produce wine to match their regional cuisine. French cuisine tends to be very fatty (the "French Paradox") -- so many of their wines go smashingly with fatty food. A great deal of American food, especially fast food, is fatty as well -- so drier, Champagne-style wines go extraordinarily well with french fries, fried chicken, potato chips, and other such bad-for-you-but-oh-so-good foods. A regular "we don't feel like cooking" meal around the Vine House is a pizza with a bottle of brut. Give it a try. You'll be amazed. $10-12 for a standard size (750 ml) bottle.

Freixenet Extra Dry Cava Sparkling Wine – This wine, instantly recognizable in the jet black bottle, is a product of Spain. Cava is this wine's native Spanish grape. As promised by the designation, you'll find this wine a little bit fruitier and “wetter” than the Brut. While they have similar flavors, I often like the little bit of sweetness to cut through the carbonation. Asian or Mexican food go great with extra dry, as does almost any pasta that isn't in a heavy tomato sauce. So do hard cheeses and nuts. As for the morning after, extra dry probably makes the best mimosas. Experiment! $8-10 for a standard bottle.

Mondoro Asti Spumante -- Asti Spumante is an Italian version of sparkling wine. Unlike the semi-dry prosecco from my Thanksgiving column, Astis tend to be sweeter -- much more of a "dessert" sparkler. ("Spumante" means that it's "fully sparkling") Asti is made from Muscat and the product tends to have a fresh, grapey taste. I wanted to try something other than Martini & Rossi, the ubiquitous makers of Asti, so I went with the Mondoro. An Asti -- or other demi-sec sparkling wine -- is an entirely different taste experience. This is a very fruity wine with a gentle pleasant sweetness and a little bit of raisin on the finish. Sweeter sparkling wines are best after a meal or with desserts. The Mondoro would go well with fruit or with dark chocolate. Dark chocolate dipped strawberries would be divine with this. $10-12 for a standard sized bottle.

So, have a happy New Year, everyone. I sincerely thank you all for making The Naked Vine a success. I appreciate you taking the time to stop by to read my musings and I hope you've picked up a little something here and there. Also, an anniversary wish to my sweet partner in crime. How you've put up with me for five years still astounds me. Peace and love to you and yours and I'll catch you after the ball drops.

'Tis the Season -- Party Wines

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

By the way, which one's Pink?

When my s.o. (girlfriend? partner? Is there a better term when you’re in your 30’s and shacking up?) read my last column, she came across my throwaway line where I disparaged white zinfandel. “Afraid of the pink, are we?” she said.

I’m not afraid of the pink – pink wine, that is – I’m just judgmental. I freely admit, for the longest time, I’d see people around me in a restaurant ordering pink wine and feel a little rush of pride that I had better sense. I don’t like white zin for the same reason that I don’t like fruit wines – I look for a giant smiling pitcher to crash through the wall hollering, “Oh yeahhhhhh!” after the first sip. To me, white zin is wine for folks who…well…don’t like wine.

One of the strangest white-zin-related things I ever saw was on the patio at Pompilio’s (for non-residents of Cinci-tucky – Pompilio’s is a divine neighborhood Italian restaurant up the street from the homestead) – a man ordered a pitcher of ice, a carafe of water, and a carafe of white zin. He poured the wine into the pitcher, then filled it the rest of the way with the water – I still haven’t figured that one out.

Over the years, I developed a real distaste for anything resembling white zin. Then Renee Koerner, the person who taught me the most about wine, uttered a simple sentence on a lovely spring day in 2005:

“Remember…Pink is not a flavor.”

And thus, my mind and palate were opened to the world of rosé.

Rosé should never be confused with white zin. Rosés are made with the same process and attention to detail as red wines – except that the grape skins are removed from the fermentation container after a couple of days. The skins of grapes give red wine its color, so the wine ends up a light pink. The skins also give red wine richness – so rosés tend to be lighter in body and slightly sweet.

A quick word on fermentation. Fermentation is a glorious chemical process in which yeast is added to a solution containing sugar. In simple terms, yeast eats sugar, farts carbon dioxide, and pisses alcohol. Tasty, no? The type of yeast, the speed of fermentation, the temperature, the sugar concentration, and sundry other fermentational factors affect the flavor of wine.

White zin starts in a similar fashion to rosé, but the winemaker not only pulls the skins out, but generally ferments the juice much more quickly, and leaves a good deal of sugar in the wine to mask any “imperfections” in the taste. The result, in my estimation, is a salmon colored, syrupy mess. OK, OK – some people legitimately enjoy drinking white zins – and I know that those are good people at heart. Really. Honestly. I just think there are better options if you want something sweet and wine-related…

Rosés are great summer wines. They’ve got a little more “oomph” than many whites, so you can use them with any number of foods, but they’re still very refreshing when you’re in the midst of a season when you feel a twinge in your head and wallet any time you hear your a/c compressor kick on.

Les Jamelles 2004 Cinsault -- Strawberry fields forever! Cinsault is best known as a French blending grape. France actually plants more cinsault than cabernet sauvignon. As for this wine, light and fruity to the nose, Les Jamelles is much more on the "white" end of the rosé spectrum. The taste is very much like a sauvignon blanc -- a little citrusy and a lot of strawberry. It finishes with a little crisp bite on the back of your tongue -- like you've finished a really good grapefruit. Perfect for sitting by the pool, or with a light fish or chicken dish. Hits right around the $8 price range.

Muga Rioja 2004 Rosé --. Riojas are classic Spanish reds made from mostly the tempranillo and garnacha grapes. Riojas tend to be big, fruity wines, and a rosé made from those grapes follows that lead. This winery's name splits neatly into two syllables that tell you all you need to know about this wine's flavor: Mu-Ga -- Melon/Grapefruit. Once the wine warms up a bit (you do not want to drink this ice cold) -- the initial scent of this one is a ripe melon. This stays with you through your first sip, but the wine widens to a grapefruity taste, and then stays just on the sweet side of strong citrus through the taste. If you've got any kind of pork or jerk chicken, go with this one. Muga will set you back $9-10.

Folie a Deux 2005 Ménage a Trois Rose -- The sweetest of our selections. I'd tried some of the other Folie a Deux blends (and they're from Napa, not France) -- and I'd enjoyed their red and white. This rosé had a marked berry nose, but tastes like strawberries and peaches (minus some sweetness) when quaffed. The finish is much less sharp than the other two, making this the quintessential pool wine. If you're laying out during the rest of the summer, chill this down and bring it out when you head outside -- let the sun warm both you and the wine a bit before you start drinking. You also could also pair this with some grilled shrimp if you wanted. This one’s right around $8-9.

Before we depart the pink -- I must report that I have found a use for white zinfandel. While I have no doubt that it would also work wonderfully in a hummingbird feeder, an ambitious picnic-goer can make a killer sangria with it. Mix a bottle of white zin with a ½ cup of peach schnapps, a shot of triple sec, a couple of tablespoons of sugar, a couple of cinnamon sticks, and some sliced fruit. Chill that well in the fridge, and just before you serve it -- throw in a 10 oz. bottle of club soda. Enjoy!

Until next time -- Santé.