Naked Vine One-Hitter: Marques de Murrieta Rioja

Finally, a little chill in the air.

Here at our new pad in The Pennsylvania, we’ve been dealing with some of the joys of home ownership that inevitably come with buying a home that’s considered vintage. We’ve gone from our old place in Newport to our State College mid-century modern, built in 1951. The place has been (thankfully) refurbished a couple of times over the years – most recently in the late 90’s.

Alas, the late 90’s seems to have been the last time that our air conditioner was seriously serviced, so, of course, the compressor decided to go to the Scrapyard in the Sky during a particularly warm stretch here. We got a new unit installed – just as the heat broke, of course. But with that break came the first taste of fall, cool evenings, and bracing for our first Football Weekend in State College.

Wait, this is supposed to be about Rioja, isn’t it?

Anyway…autumn is just around the corner, which means that we’re sliding into the time of year when, for most of us (except for you, Uncle Alan), bigger, more powerful reds start coming back in vogue.

Along those lines, We had a chance to sample a new Spanish offering last week as we enjoyed some of the cooler weather. The Marques de Murrieta 2015 Rioja Reserva was on our table the other evening as we took some much needed solace from the sweat of the previous weeks.

Before I talk about this particular bottle, though – a little background. First off, Rioja is not a grape. Following the naming conventions of most European wines, Rioja is named for the region in northern Spain where it’s produced. Rioja reds are primarily blends, made up of Tempranillo, Garnacha (Grenache), Mazuelo (Carignan), and Graciano.

Rioja reds are typically built to age for a long time, and they’re often held in barrel for years. This same winery – Marques de Murrieta – finally released their 1942 Gran Reserva in 1983. If a wine is labeled “Reserva” – as the one I tried is, it must be aged for a minimum of three years, with a minimum of 12 months in oak barrels.

As with many potentially long-lived wines, Rioja improves a great deal with decanting. Because of the tannic structure, they really need some air to smooth out and let the flavors broaden. This wine was no different. The tech notes say to give it 20-30 minutes, but I found that the wine continued to develop over the course of hours, even into the next day. Seriously, decant this mother.

Experience-wise, I thought this wine had a gorgeous nose once it had opened up. A lovely bouquet of vanilla, violets, and cherries jump up quickly. The body had rich spice notes, dark fruit, and leather flavors quite evident. The tannins, predictably, were big – but they were really nicely balanced. (The SPinC, who basically doesn’t drink anything heavier than Pinot Noir these days, thought it was smooth enough for her to handle.) The finish is lasting and grippy, ending with a graphite and dark cherry double feature that really builds after a couple of sips.

Rioja is one of the more food-friendly “big” wines that you can find, in my experience. The notes say that it pairs with “baked red snapper…and lamb chops with buttermilk.” That’s a pretty broad range! Personally, I love to pair Rioja with the mean pan of paella I’ve been known to make Given I hadn’t made one since we moved to The Pennsylvania, I had to throw down. So glad I did. Made for an absolutely worthy pairing.

This was a pretty sexy wine, I have to say. It’s a bit of a splurge at $30, but if you’re looking for a really nice bottle to take to a dinner – this will be a crowd pleaser.

Have a good Labor Day weekend, everyone.  

The Wine Headache Hazard

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 once 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 Zeus on Athena’s birthday? At a wine tasting I led, two different people shared versions of, "I like wine -- but I can't drink it. If I even sip the stuff, I get a massive headache." Is there a code we can crack to avoid this malady?

One explanation I hear often: "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." I do enjoy Italian whites, so I sampled Palazzone 2015 “Terre Vineate” Orvieto Classico Superiore. ($13-15) 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.

After a little digging into the sulfite question, I discovered there is such a thing as a sulfite allergy. So, find unsulfited wines and you're fine, right? Well, not exactly. Sulfite allergies are  pretty rare. People with sulfite allergies generally can't eat dried fruit and the like, and if their allergies kick in, they tend to end up with breathing problems, not headaches.

Still, if you want to avoid sulfites, stick to whites, right? Wrong. White wines almost always have more sulfites than red wines. Sulfites are preservatives. Whites, in general, need more protection from spoilage as the wine gets older. Red wine has a natural preservative built in to the mix: tannin, which comes from the skins of grapes as well as from barrel aging. Wines built to age well are usually tannic, so…maybe tannin is our headache culprit.

For a low tannin wine example, think something along the lines of DuBoeuf 2015 Brouilly Beaujolais ($15-17). Gamay grapes, from which Beaujolais is made, are naturally low in tannin. This wine sports a fairly strong nose of cherries and blackberries. There's plenty of cherry and cola flavors balanced nicely with a solid acidity. Nice crisp finish, too. It cuts nicely through spices, like in the Thai beef noodle soup I made to go with it.

Drinking tannic beverages – drinks like red wine, black tea, and coffee -- can cause a release of serotonin in the brain, and studies have shown that high levels of serotonin can trigger a migraine. However, wine's not the only source of tannin in one’s diet, and no one I know has ever complained of a coffee or chocolate headache.

A third possibility is histamines. Histamines occur in many fermented foods and high exposure levels can trigger an allergic reaction brought on by a lack of a certain enzyme in the bloodstream. This reaction can cause headaches, skin 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 tried the Martin Codax 2014 "Ergo" Rioja Tempranillo. ($13-15) The nose contains dark fruit and spices, almost like cherry cobbler. The wine's lighter than it smells. Some nice berry flavors and well-balanced light tannins lead to a finish which is easy and somewhat dry.

Histamines seem a somewhat more likely culprit for the headaches, although there hasn't been conclusive research on the effects of low vs. high histamine wines. Even so, if a person is susceptible to the reaction, there are natural defenses against histamines. Compounds exist in tea, especially black or oolong tea, which suppress the histamine response. Drinking a cup of strong tea before consuming red wine might help, as could taking an aspirin before drinking. An antihistamine might also stop the headache if the headache has already kicked in, but you might be in for a very short night if you pop a Benadryl after a couple of glasses of wine.

If you are one of those unfortunate souls who thinks they suffer from "red wine headaches," there's a simple (potentially painful) test. Drink half a glass of red wine on an empty stomach. If the wine is truly the cause of your headache, you'll get one within 15 minutes. Otherwise, it's not the wine itself that buried a hatchet in your forehead.

More likely, your fear of headaches likely stems from a good old fashioned hangover. The sheer amount of wine, and the memory of the pain the next morning, probably has more to do with it. B-12, Gatorade, ginger ale, and a sub from Penn Station the next morning are better bets, in that case.

Naked Vine Double Barrel – A Couple of Cava

While we’re in Bubbles Mode, let’s look at Spain’s answer to inexpensive sparkling wine – and a longtime go-to staple around these parts…Cava.

Cava, which translates from Catalan Spanish as “Cave,” refers to the underground spaces in which the sparkling wine was aged. Most of this wine is produced in the Penedes region of Spain due west of Barcelona. Made primarily from the grapes Parellada, Xarel’lo, and Macabeu, Sparkling wine was produced in the region 1851, but the Cava industry truly launched after a major Catalan wine producer, Josep Raventós, traveled through France and decided to produce a sparkling wine in the style of Champagne. The first Cava was bottled in 1872.

Cava is produced in the same method, known as Methode Champenoise, as Champagne. In this method, the wine is carbonated from secondary fermentation in the bottle. The fermentation is caused by the addition of a small amount of sugar and yeast, known as liqueur de tirage, before the bottles are capped. Carbon dioxide produced by the fermentation is forced back into the liquid. The dead yeast is removed from the bottle through a process called riddling, and the wines are then corked for sale.

The sweetness level of cava is indicated by a designation on the bottle. Brut Nature is the driest version, followed by Brut, Extra Seco (sometimes labeled “Extra Dry”), Seco, and Dulce (sweet). Cava is a traditional accompaniment for tapas, so it can pair with a broad spectrum of foods.

I’ve long sung the praises of cava as an inexpensive sparkler, especially in the holiday season. Here are a pair of these Spanish darlings that I’ve come across recently:

Anna de Codorníu (NV) Blanc de Blanc Brut Reserva Cava – Emblazoned with a profile of Anna de Cororníu, the heiress whose family’s history in Spanish wine can be traced back to 1551, her Blanc de Blanc is an interesting twist on traditional Cava., which takes a big step towards its French cousins. 75% of the wine is made from Chardonnay, which is a rarity, at least for my experience. The result is a Cava that tastes a great deal like Champagne, with a toasty, nutty nose from the Chardonnay, which is followed by lemon and pear flavors and a crisp, zingy finish. There’s a little bit of residual sugar at the end – and that mild sweetness makes it a very flexible food wine. Whether with a shellfish or soup course, or with something more fatty like cheese or fried chicken, this is a surprisingly well-balanced wine for $15. A solid offering.

Freixenet 2013 Vintage Cava Brut Nature – Longtime Vine favorite Freixenet (of black bottle fame) has rolled out a new series of sparklers – this time a vintage cava series. I haven’t seen a lot of vintage Cava, especially in this price range, so I was curious to give it a go. I thought, all in all, it’s quite good for a reasonably inexpensive sparkler. There’s It’s a few dollars more expensive than the “black bottle” Freixenet that I’m used to. Lemons and apples on the nose, with a delicate lemony flavor and zingy, lasting finish. The carbonation is quite sharp, and the finish is very clean. It’s very dry – as you might expect. “Brut Nature” means that it’s even drier than a standard Brut. It would be a great match for anything fatty – from cheeses to KFC. It’s a few dollars more expensive than the “black bottle” Freixenet that you see most commonly – the bottle I found ran around $16. If you like your sparkling wines on the delicate side, those might be dollars well spent. 

Locations Wine -- Blends that Break the Rules

What’s in a name?

When it comes to wine, nomenclature can mean a great deal – depending on which country’s soil you’re standing upon…or, more accurately, which country’s terroir you’re about to start slugging on.

As we’ve discussed in this space, especially among European wines, the name on the bottle typically refers to the region from which the wine is created. There are no grapes named “Bordeaux” or “Rioja.” Whether a wine drinker knows the exact grape or blend of grapes in a bottle, he or she can be reasonably confident of a wine’s style based on its locale of origin. French Burgundy, made from Pinot Noir, will necessarily have a different flavor than the Grenache/Syrah blends of the Rhone Valley.

These general naming conventions, blends of regional grapes, flavors and styles have been reasonably consistent (and often enforced by local and state food-related law) for decades or even centuries.

Enter Dave Phinney. Phinney, the winemaker who burst onto the scene in the late 90’s with “The Prisoner” – a Zinfandel-heavy field blend from California which put his Orin Swift Cellars on the map – has, over the last few years, built up a following around a set of blends he’s named Locations Wine.

(Side note: In case you’re wondering about who “Orin Swift” is, Orin is his father’s middle name and Swift is his mother’s maiden name.)

With Locations, Phinney and his team attempt to distill the essence of a country’s wines across its terroir – blending grapes from various wine growing regions to build a reflection of a “national” wine. Locations produces wines from Spain, France, Italy, Argentina, Portugal, and Corsica. On the domestic side, they produce blends from Oregon, Washington, California, and most recently, Texas.

So, for example, the California wine is a blend from Napa, Sonoma, Mendocino, and the Sierra Foothills – four regions with very distinct differences in terroir and grape type production. Juice from those regions rarely gets tossed in together. As for the European cuvées, many would consider such blending high heresy. Furthermore, the wines are non-vintage, which allows Phinney to blend wines from multiple years into the final mix. Each release is numbered. This year’s is “4.”

All but the Corsican wine are adorned with the formerly ubiquitous white oval stickers that used to adorn most cars in Europe before the advent of the European Union. (The Corsican wine is labeled with a silhouette of a wicked looking shepherd’s knife.) You’ve seen these labels before:

Locations Wine: France, Italy, Spain

I had the opportunity to try three of the blends at a “virtual tasting” with Phinney. He said that the general style of Locations is targeted towards the U.S. market. The idea, he said, was to give people an entry point to European wines; to try to turn people on to wines from countries they might not have tried before. He said that he knows that what he’s doing breaks a lot of traditional rules, so he spent a great deal of time putting together his blends. “I needed them to be beyond reproach.”

Locations sent three samples – their offerings from Italy, France, and Spain. One commonality across all three reflects Phinney’s comment about aiming these wines at American palates. All three have what I would consider New World sensibilities. I found them all to have, in general, bigger mouthfeels and more fruit-forward than most wines I’ve tried from the counterpart country. The French wine, for instance, lacked the “funk” that many Old World wines sport. I certainly don’t mean that as a defect – just know going in that you shouldn’t expect a Cotes-du-Rhone or Chianti.

Italy – The Italian entry is a blend of Negroamaro and Nero d’Avola from Puglia in the South and Barbera from the Piedmont in the North. Thick dark fruits on the nose – plums and blueberries. The nose feels as if it’s going to be attached to a wine of considerable weight, but the palate is surprisingly limber. Some nice spicy notes there, too. There’s a hint of that Italian chalkiness hanging around on the finish, backed by dark fruits and smoky tannins. This was my favorite of the three. Dynamite with a red-sauced pasta.

France – The French version is a blend of Grenache, Syrah, and “various Bordeaux varietals” (meaning some mix of, Cabernets, Merlot, et al.) from the Rhone, Roussillon, and Bordeaux. It had a fairly thick nose of strawberries and cotton candy with some floral notes. The palate is a nicely balanced mix of strawberries, raspberries, and earth. It’s fairly tannic, with a dry, lasting finish. It really calls for some kind of roasted meat, if you’re going to pair it up.

Spain – Labeled with an “E” for “España,” which I’ll sheepishly admit threw me for a hot second, this blend of Garnacha, Tempranillo, Monastrell, and Cariñena is sourced from regions all across Spain: the Priorat, Jumilla, Toro, Rioja, and Ribera del Duero. The nose is full of dark fruit and licorice, backed up with menthol and mint. The tannins harden gradually after a few sips into a slate-smoke finish. There’s light tarry flavor of coffee over dark plums. I had it with paella, and it was a tad big, but still a very nice complement. The fruit on this wine faded quickly – even stoppered, I found there was little fruit the next day, leaving largely a tannic, graphite flavor which wasn’t my favorite.

The Locations series retails for around $20. I think it’s an interesting take – and I admit interest in checking in on some of the other blends. (I mean…Texas? I can be convinced, but…)

Red, Rioja, Ribera

Oh, Spanish reds, how do I love thee?

The Naked Vine Rule #1 of Food Pairings is “People make wine to go with the foods they love to eat.” Well, Spaniards eat just about everything – from fish to fowl to flesh to flowers. Tapas is just behind fútbol as their national sport. It follows that Spanish wines, particularly Spanish reds, would need to be as flexible as their broad-ranging countrywide palate.

Spanish reds really can go with just about anything. I personally love Rioja and paella, with strong flavors like chorizo, saffron, and shellfish mixed in with all that rice. Manchego cheese, almonds, various cured meats – you really can’t go wrong.

Those Tempranillo grapes in Rioja

If you remember a few weeks ago in my “Ten Years” retrospective – I bungled my first experience with Spanish wines. When I saw “Rioja” on the label, I thought that was the name of the grape, and that’s just not right. No, to my chagrin, it turned out there aren’t picturesque vineyards of Rioja grapes ripening in the warm sunshine of Spain. Rather, there are picturesque vineyards of Tempranillo grapes ripening in the warm sunshine of Rioja.

Rioja, along with closely neighboring region Ribera del Duero, are two of Spain’s main producers of their delicious red goodness. The two regions compete with and complement each other much in the manner that Bordeaux and Burgundy do.

Both regions are on the plateaus of northern Spain. Rioja is somewhat cooler, being on the other side of the Cantabrian Mountains, which moderates the climate and shields the vineyards from some of the strong Cierzo winds blowing off the coast that can reach hurricane force. Ribera del Duero (which translates as “Banks of the Duero” – the river that runs across the region) is located on a high plateau, where it gets sun scorched in the summer and bitterly cold in the winter. This terroir difference means that the wines, made from identical grapes – largely Tempranillo and Garnacha – have very varied flavors.

In general, both wines run along the lines of Cabernet Sauvignon from a weight perspective, but the flavors run closer to Pinot Noir’s cherry than to super dark fruits. The length of aging is one of the primary characteristics of how these wines is classified. There are four general classifications in ascending order of quality:

If the bottle says simply “Rioja” or “Ribera del Duero” – that’s the “table wine,” designed to be drunk young, and will be the fruitiest versions. Next is Crianza – to receive a “Crianza” designation, the wine must spend a minimum of a year in oak and at least a few months aging in the bottle before release. If you snag an under $15 bottle of Rioja at your local wine store, odds are you have a Crianza in your grubby paws.

Then comes Reserva and Gran Reserva – made from specifically selected grapes, thus they are not produced every growing season. Reserva must age a minimum of three years before release, at least one year of which must be in oak. They usually run up to about $30. Gran Reserva are aged a minimum of three years, two years of which must be in oak. Both Reserva and Gran Reserva wines are designed for long aging, and are considered some of the best value fine wines in the world.

I enjoy comparing these wines side-by-side (or at least within a close amount of time) to get at the contrasts. Here are a few I tried recently:

Siglo 2012 Rioja Crianza – This one’s almost worth picking up for the bottle itself, which comes wrapped in burlap. Fun to bring this one to a party, for sure. It’s got a bright, fresh nose of cherries and cedar. The cherry flavor passes over to the body, which is relatively light for the fairly solid backbone this wine possesses. The tannins gradually emerge on the finish, leaving a lightly fruited aftertaste. Easy to drink on its own, but really shines with food. About $14-15.

The sample of Torres 2013 “Celeste” Ribera del Duero Crianza provided an interesting contrast. The nose was fragrantly full of cherries and violet. I thought that the flavors of the RdD were deeper than the bright cherry flavors found in the Rioja Crianza that I tried. The mouthfeel was considerably chewier with some more pronounced oak flavors. There were dark fruits – blackberry and plum – on the palate, which finished up with some chewy, plummy tannins. I thought this was a pretty serious red, but not so big as to be overwhelming. Around $20 for this.

Both went well with the aforementioned paella, although I’d probably give a nod to the Rioja if you twisted my arm. 

I also had the Coto de Imaz 2010 Rioja Reserva – which was, as you might expect, an entirely different experience. The nose is fuller and richer, but more restrained. Darker fruits are in evidence – blackberries and raspberries dominate the nose. The body is softer and tongue-coatingly rich with full chocolatey tannins. The finish is long with plummy smoke. I thought this was a fascinatingly complex wine for $20. It calls for grilled or roasted meats, especially beef. A NY strip was a lovely accompaniment. A real find and certainly worth it.

Spanish wines, in general, are much less expensive than their French and Italian cousins. If you like your Old World wines more on the fruity side, my guess is that you’re going to enjoy a Rioja more than a wine from Bordeaux or Tuscany at a similar price point.

Of course, there’s only one way to find out…

Follow this Guero Down the Duero

Let’s pop back over to Spain for a moment, Rioja is not the only game in town when it comes to the fruitful production of grapey goodness. Just a bit south of Rioja flows the Duero River, along which you can find a couple of Spain’s most well-known wine regions.

Moving west to east, we start in Rueda, which is the region centered on the town of the same name, which is about 170 miles northwest of Madrid. Wine was produced here since at least the 11^th century. Rueda is best known for white wines, particularly those produced from the Verdejo grape, which is native to the region. Some reds are produced in Rueda, but less than 5% of the total harvest yield is red grapes.

Rueda whites are produced to be drunk relatively young, and are known to be quite food-friendly. Many wine lovers liken Rueda wines to sauvignon blanc, and that comparison certainly held up for the Torres 2015 “Verdeo” Verdejo which I had the opportunity to try.

The Verdeo (and I’m unsure why the spelling is different) was a crisp, acidic quaff with aromas of pear and lemon that were mirrored on the palate. I found it to be a little richer than many sauvignon blanc, effecting a little bit of a glycerine sweetness on the palate and on the finish. It was pretty good as an aperitif, and I had the wild hair to try it with a pork and fennel Thai curry. It handled the pairing OK because of the slight sweetness at the end, but beer worked better, honestly. I think it would be a better match for fish or shellfish.

Eighty or so miles down the Duero lies Ribera del Duero – the Spanish wine region which competes with and complements its neighbor to the northeast, Rioja, in the manner that Bordeaux and Burgundy eye each other. In this case, however, both of the Spanish regions focus on the same red grape, Tempranillo. The converse of Rueda, Ribera del Duero’s grape production is almost exclusively red. The nomenclature of the red wines – “Crianza,” “Reserva,” and “Gran Reserva” mirrors that found in Rioja.

Ribera del Duero, which translates as “the banks of the Duero” is a very dry, hot region in the summer – receiving less than a foot and a half of rain annually. Also located on a high plateau, temperatures soar in the summer and can be brutally cold in the winter, so the vines must be quite hardy. Since they must struggle, the wines take on some very interesting characteristics, especially when compared to Rioja. Of late, production has increased in Ribera del Duero as the world discovers the differences.

The sample of Torres 2013 “Celeste” Ribera del Duero Crianza provided an interesting contrast. The nose was fragrantly full of cherries and violet. I thought that the flavors of the RdD were deeper than the bright cherry flavors found in the Rioja Crianza that I tried. The mouthfeel was considerably chewier with some more pronounced oak flavors. There were dark fruits – blackberry and plum – on the palate, which finished up with some chewy, plummy tannins. I thought this was a pretty serious red, but not so big as to be overwhelming. It calls for grilled or roasted meats, especially beef. A NY strip was a lovely accompaniment.

If you find the Duero-based wines interesting, there are a number of other wine regions along this plateau. Wines from Arribes, Arlanza, Cigales (especially for rosé), and Toro would provide you with some interesting contrasts.

Rioja

In my “Ten Years” retrospective, I copped to making a number of factual goofs when I was getting this good ol’ column off the ground.

I mentioned my initial confusion about the Spanish wine Rioja. I fell hard for Spanish juice when doing my first pass through the wines of the world. I enjoyed Rioja especially. I was still used to the American naming conventions for wines, so when I saw “Rioja” on the label, I thought that was the grape used in the production of the wine – as I would expect if I saw “Cabernet Sauvignon” or “Zinfandel” on the label.

And I said as much. In public.

As you probably could surmise…that’s just not right. No, to my chagrin, it turned out there aren’t picturesque vineyards of Rioja grapes ripening in the warm sunshine of Spain. Rather, there are picturesque vineyards of Tempranillo grapes ripening in the warm sunshine of Rioja.

 

Vineyards in La Rioja, Spain. Not Rioja grapes. Trust me on this.

Like most European wines, the name on the label – like Bordeaux or Burgundy – refers to the region of the country from whence the grapes spring. In this case, Rioja is a region in the north-central section of Spain, along the River Ebro just southeast of the city of Bilbao. Rioja is just on the other side of the Cantabrian Mountains, which moderates the climates and shields the vineyards from some of the strong Cierzo winds blowing off the coast that can reach hurricane force.

The primary grape used to make Rioja is, as mentioned above, Tempranillo. There is often Garnacha blended in as well to add a little extra fruit flavor to the wine. In general, Rioja is along the lines of Cabernet Sauvignon from a weight perspective, but the flavors run closer to Pinot Noir’s cherry than they do to the dark fruits usually found in Cabernet.

Rioja tend to have fairly firm tannins, both from the grapes used in production and because most, if not all, Rioja are barrel-aged for at least some period of time. The length of aging is one of the primary characteristics of how Rioja is classified. There are four general classifications of Rioja, which are – in ascending order of quality:

• Rioja – The “table wine." These are the ones designed to be drunk young. They only spend a few months in oak. These will be among the most fruit-forward, less complex versions.
• Rioja Crianza – For a Rioja to receive a “Crianza” designation, it must spend a minimum of a year in oak, and then at least a few months aging in the bottle before it is released. If you snag an under $15 bottle of Rioja at your local wine store, odds are you have a Crianza in your grubby paws.
• Rioja Reserva – This level is made from specifically selected grapes from a particular harvest, and must spend a minimum of three years, at least one year of which must be in oak before release. They usually run up to about $30. Winemakers only produce a Reserva if there are sufficiently high quality grapes in a season.
• Rioja Gran Reserva – Again, this level is only produced during very good growing years. Gran Reserva are aged a minimum of three years, two years of which must be in oak. Both Reserva and Gran Reserva wines are designed for long aging, and are considered some of the best value fine wines in the world.

 

Rioja are super-flexible food wines. The Naked Vine Rule #1 of Food Pairings is “People make wine to go with the foods they love to eat.” Well, those damned Spaniards eat just about everything – from fish to fowl to flesh to flowers. Tapas is just behind fútbol as a national sport. And you know what? Rioja can go with just about anything. I personally love Rioja and paella, even though it’s often got a bunch of fish in that rice. Manchego cheese, almonds, various cured meats – you really can’t go wrong.

(Side note: there are white Rioja as well. I like them, but I’ve never found one that really blew me away. White and Red Rioja are like White and Red Bordeaux. There’s a reason you think of the latter before the former.)

I had the opportunity to try a couple of very decent Rioja recently – one Crianza and one Reserva:

           

Siglo 2012 Rioja Crianza – This one’s almost worth picking up for the bottle itself, which comes wrapped in burlap. For that reason alone, it would be fun to bring this one to a party. It’s got a bright, fresh nose of cherries and cedar. The cherry flavor passes over to the body, which is relatively light for the fairly solid backbone this wine possesses. The tannins gradually emerge on the finish, leaving a lightly fruited aftertaste. Easy to drink on its own, but really shines with food. It’s flexible enough for all sorts of tapas-y delights. The aforementioned paella was a lovely pairing. 

Coto de Imaz 2010 Rioja Reserva – As you might expect, I had an entirely different experience with this Reserva. The nose is fuller and richer, but more restrained. Darker fruits are in evidence – blackberries and raspberries dominate the nose. The body is softer and tongue-coatingly rich with full chocolatey tannins. The finish is long with plummy smoke. I thought this was a fascinatingly complex wine for $20. A real find and certainly worth it.

Spanish wines, in general, are much less expensive than their French and Italian cousins. If you like your Old World wines more on the fruity side, my guess is that you’re going to enjoy a Rioja more than a wine from Bordeaux or Tuscany at a similar price point. Of course, there’s only one way to find out…

The Naked Vine Guide to Buying Wine for Thanksgiving

We’re three weeks away from The Big Feed and you need to start thinking about buying wine. Since you’re the classy, thoughtful individual that you are, you actually give a rip about how the wine goes with food and you don’t want anyone to take a sip, and go “um…ew.”

Thanksgiving wine-buying can be challenging. At a standard dinner party, there’s usually a general theme or national cuisine you can pull ideas from. A traditional Thanksgiving meal presents you with bunch of flavors beyond turkey that usually don’t play well with grapes. Cheesy casseroles, sweet potatoes, various beans and legumes, yeasty rolls, and other homestyle favorites create a riot of flavors that simply aren’t conducive to a pause and savor pairing.

Your goal instead is to treat Thanksgiving like the gluttonous feast it is. We’re shooting for a selection of “good enough” wines to please a range of palates, yet give people enough options so they’re not making wine runs after the salad course. Here, for your grape-purchasing pleasure, are the Naked Vine’s steps to success:

First – How many wine drinkers at the table?

Get a rough count. Even if you have guests who have expressed that they don’t like wine, budget for them anyway. Assuming it’s too late to uninvite them, they’ll probably end up sneaking a glass or two anyway because they “just want to try it with food.” Worst case scenario: a couple of extra bottles get left over for slugging during cleanup.

I subscribe to the 80% rule. Let’s say you’ve got 10 guests. Eighty percent puts you at 8 bottles. Each bottle holds 5 glasses of wine, so you’ve got 40 glasses total to go around. In my experience, heavy and light imbibers tend to balance each other out. Adjust accordingly if you are cooking for a number of true teetotalers or if you know that you’ve got some professional lushes like your narrator at the table. Also, since most people bring at least one bottle with them, you should have a comfortable cushion.

Second – Start with bubbly.

My one hard-and-fast rule for Thanksgiving beyond the above calculation – start everyone off with bubbly. Toasting the start of the meal with a glass of bubbles wakes up everyone’s palates and appetites and gets everyone in a good mood. Also, since you generally don’t pour full glasses of sparkling wine, you’ll likely only need an extra bottle or two, max.

I’d recommend something like the Gruet Blanc de Noirs from New Mexico or my old Spanish standby Freixienet Extra Dry. Again, nothing complex -- think crisp, refreshing, and food friendly. Some of your guests might also prefer bubbles with your first course, whether it’s soup, salad, or something else.

Third – Taste the Rainbow

Now we get to the actual wines for dinner. We’re not going to mess with course-by-course pairings. That takes too much energy and besides, you might have to make a mad dash to the kitchen, frantically searching for your copy of your local newspaper to fan the smoke detector, which is still sounding incessantly after you left your oven mitt on the burner.

In most cases, I’d suggest getting three different types of wine. Why three? Like I said – we’re doing wine in broad brushstrokes here and people like to sample. Think about basic flavor profiles. We can immediately rule out super light whites like pinot grigio. They’ll get run over by the feast’s flavors. On the other end of the spectrum, avoid highly-tannic or oaky wines like most American cabernets or Chardonnays or big rustic French and Italian wines. We don’t need complexity to get in the way of the stuffing. The three profiles I use are:

Fruity and Flavorful Whites – For the white wine drinkers, I’d suggest whites with a lot of fruit flavor and usually a little sweetness. I’m a big fan of Thanksgiving Riesling. Chateau St. Michelle Dry Riesling  and Kung Fu Girl Riesling are a couple of easy to find choices. If you’d like to go German with your Riesling, look for bottles that are labeled “Trocken,” which means dry.

Light, Comfortable Reds and Rosé – Good middle of the road, “keep on pourin’” wines that pair up with almost any sorts of food, be it meat or fowl. I love my rosé, but for this occasion, avoid those beautiful, delicate flowers from Provence. Go with a fuller, more fruit-forward bottle – perhaps something from Italy like Villa Gemma Cerasuolo d’Abruzzo or a South American version like Montes Cherub Rose of Syrah from Chile.

If you can’t bring yourself to buy pink wine, then another quality option here is Beaujolais, specifically, Beaujolais-Villages. Thanksgiving is also the one time of year that I find it OK to buy Beaujolais Nouveau, which is usually released around then. Don’t get suckered by a sale and buy last year’s vintage, though.

Big, Boomin’ Reds – Because every table will have at least one person who likes to drink big ol’ reds, don’t leave them out. My go-to wine when I need something big, fruity, and rich is good old California Zinfandel. Seven Deadly Zins, Ravenswood Vintner’s Blend, and their other $10 cousins should do nicely. If you want to look beyond California, a Garnacha (Grenache) like Los Rocas from Spain or a Cotes-du-Rhone like M. Chapoutier will certainly fill the bill without giving folks big mouthfuls of tannin.

In my previous eight-bottle example, I’d probably get two bottles of the whites and three bottles of

each of the other two categories to start with. I find that folks tend to lean red as the night goes on. Obviously, you know your dinner guests better than I, so jigger as necessary. And remember – while you can send leftovers home, all remaining wine stays with the house!

Happy Thanksgiving!

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:

In Time for the Holidays -- The Naked Vine Guide to Champagne and Sparkling Wine

Champagne. Sparkling wine. Spumante. Bubbly. It’s that time of year.

Dom Perignon, the monk who popularized the concept of carbonated wine apocryphally stated, “Come quickly, I am drinking the stars!” upon opening a bottle in the wine caves of his monastery, and generations thereafter have shared that particular sensation, especially around this time of the year, when the loud pop of a cork accompanies celebrations large and small.

As party season cranks up, you might get called on by your friends to “pick up some Champagne” for your next soiree. The word “Champagne” is, for all intents and purposes for most people, a stand in term for all sparkling wine – much like “Coke” in the South translates as “any kind of soda/pop.”

“Champagne,” remember, is not a grape varietal or type of wine. It’s the region of Northern France where this style of wine originated, and where the most famous and most expensive versions of this sparkling wine -- like Veuve Cliquot, Moet & Chandon, and the aforementioned Dom Perignon -- are produced. If you go to the wine store and ask for “Champagne,” you might get steered over to this rack, where you’ll be staring at a bunch of French names and pricetags starting at forty or fifty bucks.

“Waitaminit!” you say. “I’ve seen Korbel Champagne in the store! Isn’t that Champagne?” Nope. It’s sparkling wine made in California that was labeled for years as “Champagne” as a marketing ploy. In 2006, a trade agreement outlawed labeling US wines as “Champagne” unless they’d been using that as a traditional trademark – but they were required to relabel their wines as “California Champagne.” Sparkling wine that’s not from Champagne, whether from California or elsewhere, is now generally labeled “sparkling wine.”

Getting back to the French stuff, and getting down to brass tacks – in all honesty, Champagne can be a real ripoff. Yes, Champagne is wonderful. I’ve had the opportunity to try a few high-end champagnes, and they’re delightful. They’re flavorful and sensuous…and completely overpriced for my semi-educated palate. I say this since, if you’re reading this, I’m guessing you’re likely not going to be doing vertical tastings of high enders like Krug or Pol Roger anytime soon. Still, why are these wines so damned expensive?

Simply put? Brand loyalty.

We pay a premium for these wines because of the name on the label – no different from buying clothes, cars, or headphones. In some cases, the quality of actual Champagnes might be slightly higher than other sparkling wines, but at 11:59 on December 31^st, are you really thinking about doing a Parker-esque pull-apart of the various flavors? I thought not. If you’re opening vintage Champagne at midnight on New Year’s, you’re either showin’ off, or you’re at a ritzier party than I’m ever getting invited to.

That said, there’s nothing quite like the ritual of cracking open a bottle of celebratory bubbly. Good news! Consumption of sparkling wine has increased sharply in the first half of this decade. (We must be in a collective mood to get down!) Because of this increased demand, there are many options to allow you to have a good experience while still maintaining a grip on your fiscal sanity.

A couple of quick things to consider about buying sparkling wine. Unlike most reds and whites, many sparkling wines do not have vintage dates, as they’re often made from blends of wines from different years to produce a consistent product. Vintage wines often command higher prices, but that doesn’t necessarily mean that they’re better.

Also, remember that the wine’s sweetness level is on the label. The traditional French nomenclature for sparkling wine is more or less the standard. The ones you’re likely to see are, from sweetest to driest: Doux (sweet) → Demi-Sec (semi-dry) → Sec (Dry) → Extra Dry → Brut. Yep. Brut is “drier than dry.” There are actually another two, even drier, levels -- Extra Brut and Brut Nature, but you’re unlikely to come across those.

What you will come across, however, are plenty of alternatives to higher-end stuff. Here are a few that you’ll be able to find without too much trouble:

Crémant – We’ll start in France. Crémant (pronounced cray-mahn) has come to refer to French sparkling wine produced outside the Champagne region. Most Crémant is produced with the same methode Champenoise process that Champagne is, often with the same grapes. The big difference? These are more “everyday” French sparkling wines, and usually can be had for between ten and twenty bucks. The best known will be labeled Crémant d’Alsace, Crémant de Bourgogne, Crémant de Loire, and Crémant de Jura. All of these make excellent alternatives if you’re trying to look classy by putting a bottle of French sparkling wine on the table at your next party. Are they as high quality as high-end Champagne? No. Is that quality difference worth $50 or more? You be the judge.

Cava – Over to Spain. Cava is my go-to inexpensive sparkling wine. This sparkler, produced in the area around Barcelona. The name “Cava” stems from the caves in which these wines were originally stored and aged. These wines are also produced in the same method as Champagne. I find most Cava to be crisper and somewhat more acidic than the creamy gentle bubbles in the French versions. The extra acidity, in my opinion, is what makes Cava perfect for tapas – allowing it to go alongside almost any kind of food. Cava is also quite inexpensive. For a typical bottle of Cava, if you’re spending more than $15, you’re overpaying.

Prosecco & Moscato – The Italian sparkling entries. Prosecco is the more “traditional” version of sparkling wine – and you’ll typically find it nestled next to the Cava in your local wine store. I find it to be fruitier and slightly sweeter than other sparkling wines, which I think makes it a better option for an early evening palate cleanser or morning-after mimosas than for cracking at the end of the year, but your mileage may vary. Moscato, whose popularity boomed in the early 2000’s, is a sweet, peachy, low-alcohol sparkling wine that – as a wine-savvy friend once put it – “you could drink for breakfast.” Produced in both sparkling and still versions, Moscato is a favorite of brunch aficionados and high school shoplifters everywhere.

United States Sparkling Wine – While some more expensive versions of “California Champagne” are decent (for instance, President Obama celebrated his inauguration with a special version of Korbel Natural), in general, they’re best used for christening boats or hosing down your friends after winning the sports contest of your choice. That said, there’s no shortage of high quality bubbly within our own borders. In my experience, the highest quality stuff comes from Northern California, and can be every bit as expensive as its French counterparts. However, there are many of these California products you’ll find in the $15-20 range that are very serviceable for any occasion. Oregon, Washington, and New Mexico are producing very good sparklers at bargain prices.

Bottom line – unless you’re really wed to the idea of having “traditional” Champagne for whatever your occasion may be, you’ll have good luck finding alternatives that won’t break your bank. So snag some bottles and pop your corks. You deserve it.

Tapas Tuesday Part II – Sherry to Make Merry?

While enjoying our Tapas Tuesday kick, I received an offer to sample a few bottles of sherry. Sherry’s popularity peaked in the 1970’s in the U.S., when every household seemed required by law to keep a bottle of cream sherry around for nightcaps and highballs. I cook with sherry all the time – it’s a fundamental component of many of my sauces and no chowder is complete without at least a splash of the stuff.

Neither are the sherries regularly found in tapas bars and Spanish restaurants around the world. The “drinking sherries” are somewhat more carefully constructed, usually quite old, and have a small yet passionate following in the world of small plates.

 

Sherry casks aging in "solera."

Years ago, back when blogging was considered cutting edge and I was just beginning my wine education, I did a rundown of the major types of sherry. I can honestly say that, at the time, none of the various styles agreed with my palate. Fast forward a bit, now that I’ve become slightly more refined in experience if not in practice, and I hoped the passage of years might have made me more appreciative of the stuff.

Before I get to that, though – let’s talk for a moment about what sherry is. The name “Sherry” is an Anglicized version of “Jerez” (pronounced “zhe-RETH”) -- the region in Spain from where this tipple hails.

Sherry is a type of fortified wine, which makes it a cousin to port, Marsala, and Madeira. In WineSpeak -- a "fortified" wine means that the winemaker's gone and added a bunch more alcohol, usually a neutral spirit like brandy, after the grapes have been fermented. This additional alcohol prevents the wine from spoiling, and allows the wine to be aged in barrel for a long period of time.  Most sherries are between 15-22% alcohol. Sherry is made largely from the Palomino grape, but other grapes called Pedro Ximénez and Moscatel are used in sweeter varieties.

Sherry has a fascinating method of production. Winemakers fill the large casks, known as butts about 80% full -- 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."  

During the aging process, many types of sherry develop a solid layer of yeast, known as flor, on the surface of the wine in the barrel. This yeast layer slows the process of oxidation as the wine ages, preserving certain aspects of the flavor, as well as adding certain compounds called acetylaldehydes, which give sherry its “sharp” aroma.

As a part of the aging process, Sherry producers use what is called the "Solera System." Solera is Spanish for “on the ground.” In this process, as much of a third of a cask of sherry is drained and bottled, and the butt is refilled with younger wine made in the same style. This process is known as "refreshing the mother wine," and maintains consistency in the product from year to year. Sherries are aged a minimum of three years before bottling.

There are five basic types of sherry: Fino and Manzanilla are dry. Amontillado is aged for a minimum of  eight years and is dry to medium dry. Oloroso is also a medium dry sherry which is produced without the flor. 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.)

For a summary of this information, Samantha at Colangelo provided this helpful infographic:

All you need to know about Sherry -- click to embiggen!

She also sent along two bottles -- Emilio Hidalgo Fino ($14) and Faraón Oloroso ($17) – to try alongside our Tuesday slate of various yummies.

Back to my hope for an evolution of my palate. The last time I did a sherry tasting was somewhere in 2007. Eight years later, I can honestly say that my sherry palate is largely unchanged. I just don’t think I’m programmed to appreciate it, as someone who has it as a “house spirit” on a regular basis would. The old “acquired taste” cliché applies firmly.

The fino, which was my favorite of the two, had a nice floral nose and an almost olive brine-type flavor. It was the most drinkable on its own, and it paired OK with the various olives and spreads that we’d assembled for dinner. But I wouldn’t exactly seek out that drinking experience. The oloroso – I simply wasn’t a fan. The darker, oxidized flavor had a nutty characteristic that was interesting – but it was largely overwhelmed by the jet fuel-y alcohol flavor.

I’m sure that there are many out there with more sophisticated sherry palates who might be able to guide me through the cultivation of an understanding of the stuff, but on my own, it just didn’t really resonate. There are so many good Spanish reds and whites – not to mention my beloved sparkler cava – which I would turn to in a tapas bar ahead of either of these.

That said, with the broad range of flavors and aromas in tapas – a higher-alcohol wine like this would be able to cut through most flavors. If you’d been out and found yourself at a tapas bar in the wee smalls, you might consider a glass of this to keep your evening rolling. As for me, bring me that split of cava and I’ll be a happy man.

Tapas Tuesday, Part 1 – Cava, Curious Math, and Biutiful Bubbles

Since joining our CSA, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I have challenged ourselves to power our way through every last vegetable in that wonderful box before the next one arrives. This has required some creative cooking on our parts from time to time – and we’ve ended up with lots of little leftovers, stray peppers, the occasional bag of ground cherries, and the like. How to clear out the tupperware, you ask?

Tapas Tuesday!

We decided, once a week, that we’d go through the fridge and see what we could easily combine into a small plate meal. Now, much of what we end up with wouldn’t be considered traditional Spanish tapas, but early returns on this little project seem pretty positive just the same.

Along came an offer I couldn’t refuse. One of my favorite memories of our European trip several years back was a meal in Barcelona at El Xampanyet, a tapas place near the Picasso Museum. After we sat down, the waiter brought us a bottle of the house bubbly – which, of course, was Cava. Few things in the world go better with tapas than Cava. The day after we decided on our Tapas Tuesday project, Tiffany at Colangelo offered to send us a couple of Cava samples. I almost sprained my finger hitting “reply.”

Cava, if by some odd chance you’re unfamiliar, is a Spanish sparkling wine. It’s usually a white wine, although it can be made as a rosé (which we’ll get to in a moment). The name “Cava” means “cave” and refers to the caves traditionally used to store and age the wine. 95% of all Cava is made in Catalonia, the region of Northeast Spain where Barcelona lies.

Cava is made in the methode champenoise style used in the production of Champagne and many other high-quality sparkling wines. Most Cava bottlings, however, are consistently lower in price than other sparklers of similar quality. Cava has long been my go-to bubbly when I’m snagging a bottle for immediate, unfocused consumption.

Tiffany sent us two bottles, one white and one rose, for our perusal:

1+1=3 Cava Brut – Make sure you chill this one thoroughly before you crack it open. One Tuesday, I came home from work and popped the bottle in the fridge, thinking that a couple of hours would probably be sufficient to get the bottle to a serviceable temperature. After I took off the wire cage, I found the cork to be super-tight, which probably should have been a warning to me. Driven by testosterone and a craving for little bubbles, I applied somewhat more force than I likely needed. The cork finally came loose. For my futbol-loving readers -- let’s just say that if Barça is looking for a great-spraying victory bubbly, I’ve done Messi’s beta testing. I got a bit drenched, but hey – small price to pay for science, right? As for the wine itself, it turned out to be very crisp and acidic with sharp bubbles that would cut through just about any flavor you throw at it. Some yeasty flavors, green apples, and a friendly fruity finish were the major flavor features. A very solid sparkler, especially at ~$13. Unfortunately, I’ve lost my note as to the array of plates we had with it, so you’ll just have to trust me in its ability to be flexible.

Biutiful Cava Brut Rose – “Biutiful,” one of the few rosé Cava I’ve tried -- was much kinder to me than to my spellcheck! Most Cava are made from white grapes like Viura and Xarel-lo, but this rosé version is made from 100% Grenache, which I thought gave it a very interesting construction. It possessed the tight, powerful carbonation common to Cava. The initial flavor is very dry and, once again, crisply acidic. However, after a sip or two, notes of strawberry and pear start to emerge, but these flavors aren’t sugar-backed in the slightest. I guess you’d call it “fruity, but bone dry” – which certainly is not a problem around here. On this particular Tapas Tuesday, we had this bottle as a very nice accompaniment to slices of prosciutto wrapped around marcona almonds, paprika-ed potatoes, and pork tenderloin sliders topped with curried sauerkraut from a local place called Fab Ferments. Trust me on the slider pairing – it was delicious. The little extra fruit carried the flavors with the pork/sauerkraut mix nicely. If you’re looking for a sparkler with a little extra fruitiness, or you’ve got some food where you’ll have a little “fat in your mouth,” you could find a winner here. You can find this for $16-17, which is still a good value.

With Labor Day Weekend picnics abounding, consider snagging a couple of bottles of cava to pour. There’s no need to break out the good crystal. Cava tastes just as good out of a Solo cup, if you ask me. Enjoy!

Naked Vine One-Hitter -- No Need to Rue-da Day: Naiades Rueda

My jaunts down the Spanish aisle in the usually results in an impulse buy or two , largely because I know that I can’t go too far afield. Spain’s wines, especially their whites, are remarkably consistent, flavorwise. More importantly, I’ve found inexpensive Spanish wines handle age better than their similarly-priced counterparts from almost anywhere else in the world, so if there's a discounted bottle from last year's vintage, I can snag it without worry that I'm picking up a bottle that's over the hill.

[Protip: The “end of year clearance” sales are in full-force at your local wine stores as we speak, so if you’re choosing between 2010 whites from Spain and…say…California in the under $10 price range, pick the Spanish one every time.]

In Spain, the most popular white wine comes from a region called Rueda, which is northwest of Madrid. Rueda wines are primarily composed of the Verdejo grape, although some winemakers also include Sauvignon Blanc, Viura, and Palomino grapes in the blend. The wines tend to be crisp and acidic, generally featuring flavors of peaches and tropical fruits. Rueda’s also relatively inexpensive, so it certainly makes its way onto my radar.

Tatiana from Colangelo reached out to me, offering a sample of a Rueda called “Naia” to review. Before she could ship it to me, they ran out of samples. Fortunately, they had a bottle of Bodegas Naia’s first-label wine, the Naiades 2010 Rueda Blanco, for me to try instead. Most Rueda I see are under $15, and the Naia retailed for $13. Naiades' “first label” status has it retailing for $26. How was it?

The Naiades started me with honeysuckle and orange cream on the nose, followed with a little bit of a honey taste up front. There's considerable amounts of mineral and lemon on the palate. The finish is smooth and fruity, especially as the wine warms a bit, and there’s a slight oakiness at the back end. The mineral and lemon remind me a little bit of a Chablis, but the overall feel has a little more richness. I thought it made a nice accompaniment to a recipe I tried where I marinated chicken breasts in mango sorbet. The chicken is then grilled, sliced and served over a bed of shredded red and green cabbage, tossed with chopped scallions, cilantro, and a dressing of more melted sorbet, soy sauce, fish sauce, and some other yummies.

It’s definitely a good wine. Is it $26 good? I’d say that’s a few dollars high, all in all, but if you see it discounted, snag it for sure. Also, I would imagine that there’s little way that the Naia would be “half as good” at $13. If its big brother is any indication, it’ll be a very good value at that price. 

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?