When it rains, we pour -- A look at Chateau Peyrassol Rose

Was a soggy few days last few days here in Happy Valley. Typically, I’d be dipping deep into richer reds as the chill of winter starts to come on, but I’m not going to pass up an opportunity to continue my passionate advocacy for Rosé All Day just because the weather’s getting colder.

Honestly, I have no issue with rosé during the winter months. As an aperitif, I’d prefer to drink rosé than many whites when a chill is in the air, especially if I’ve got some meats and cheeses to snack on.

Drinkerbell, the wine fairy, brought along a bottle of Château Peyrassol 2019 Côtes de Provence Rosé during the soggy slog of last week. This bottle from Provence is a lovely reminiscence of summer, as well as a darned good food wine.

The Chateau itself has a fascinating history. Founded in the 13^th century by the Knights Templar, the Chateau originally was a major way station for pilgrims traveling to the Holy Land (we will avoid subsequent discussions of the Crusades, however). After the French Revolution, the land was acquired by the Rigord family, where the wives ran the winemaking aspects of the estate through the following couple of centuries. Philip Austruy purchased the property in 2001 and revamped the winemaking operation.

Made from grapes from the oldest vines on the Chateau’s property, this blend of Syrah, Cinsault, Grenache, Ugni Blanc and Rolle (the last is better known as Vermentino), is a pale, rosy pink in the glass. The freshness inherent of a lot of Provence rosé hops right out of the glass at first sniff with aromas of lemon, orange blossom, and peach. These flavors carry straight through to the crisp, pleasant palate.

One criticism I have of some rosés is that they try for “fresh” and land on “acid bomb” instead. Not the case here. This wine has great balance between acidity and round mouthfeel. The finish is fresh, clean, with a lingering citrus flavor. Such a nice wine to just sip on, honestly.

As I mentioned, we tried this with a charcuterie board of salami, Marcona almonds, and Manchego cheese and it made a lovely companion to the starter. The chicken for dinner, roasted with a paprika-based spice paste, was a bit too assertive for the delicacy of this wine (Luckily, we had a nice bottle of Beaujolais in reserve!) – so if you’re having it with food, I’d probably stick to fish or a lighter meat preparation.

Or, you could pop and pour it in front of a fire and imagine how good it will feel once the weather warms and we can start being outside again. We’re going to need these kinds of reminders to get through the winter together in one piece.

This wine retails for $18-22. If you’re interested in spending a little more on a nice bottle of rosé, it’s certainly in that category.

Naked Vine One-Hitter: Alìe -- A right, round rosé

Longtime Vineheads know I've long been a champion of rosé. For over a decade, I've been chanting my "pink is not a flavor" mantra to winedrinkers worried someone might think they ordered a glass of white zin.

While I can't take credit for the now-social appropriateness of the pink stuff, I certainly appreciate that the upswing in the rosé market has driven a number of countries and regions to up their respective rosé games. One particular example of this -- Italy.

I've never been a huge fan of Italian rosé, in general. I've found their rosés, often marketed as "rosato," to be overly fruity, usually a little too sweet, and honestly inferior in quality to any French rosé. I'd prefer a very light Italian red, slightly chilled, to almost any rosato.

But this old dog can certainly learn a new trick -- because I had the chance to try this new offering from Frescobaldi in Tuscany -- Alìe 2007 Toscana Rosé.

Alìe draws its name from a legendary sea nymph. Like most ancient Roman myths -- the story of Alìe is derived from a similar Greek story -- her name was "Halia" in the Greek version. Thankfully, the story of this wine is much more pleasant than Halia's own legend -- google if you want, but fair warning: like most women in Greek myths, Halia/Alìe doesn't get a happy ending...

In any case, this particular wine, made largely from Syrah with a touch of Vermentino for crispness, is a uniquely bold rosé. Alìe boasts one of the more striking bouquets of any rosé I've tried in quite some time. Many of these wines have very light, delicate airs -- this one, not so much. I found a full nose of ripe melon, fresh blossoms, and tropical fruits. The tropical fruit flavors are certainly present on the palate, as well -- alternating mango, pineapple, and a little cherry flavor. I expected the finish to be a little flabby with this much fruit on the palate, but I was pleasantly surprised to get a crisp, clean wind-down, with those fruit flavors lingering on a rounded mouthfeel.

It's a pretty substantial rosé, so if you're looking for something super light and flinty to drink on a hot day, this probably isn't going to be your speed. As a food wine, though, it really excelled. We had this next to some chicken roasted with lemon, capers, basil and torn bread -- and the roundness of the palate made it an excellent complement.

If you're interested in breaking out of a rosé rut, this would be a nice change of pace. Alìe retails for $17-20.

Naked Vine Showdown: Inexpensive Rosé -- Bota Box vs. Black Box vs. La Vielle Ferme

As the heat of summer continues to build, more and more of you are reaching for tasty bottles of cold rosé. Lots more of you, in fact. Whether from Provence or Petaluma, American consumption of rosé has exploded in the last decade.

When I wrote the first words in this space in 2006, the U.S. imported somewhere in the neighborhood of 200,000 liters of rosé from Provence. In 2016, upwards of 8 million liters found their way to American palates. Big Wine Store near me recently rearranged its shelves – devoting practically an entire aisle to the pink stuff from around the world, where I used to hunt for my goodies from Tavel and Provence tucked away in a dusty corner near the White Zin.

As I started my quest to get my readers to embrace my oenological mentor’s mantra that “Pink is not a flavor” and that dudes could drink pink wine and still feel manly, dry rosé was one of the best kept secrets of the wine world. But as the world’s caught on to just how daggone good the stuff is, winemakers and distributors picked up on the public’s new thirst and began raising prices to match demand. Where a $15 bottle of rosé was almost unheard of just a few years ago, many quality entries are now in the same range as premium reds and whites – in the $25-30 range. Heck, I sampled a rosé a few months ago tagged at $70.

The Lineup -- Drink Pink and Don't Think!

People, that’s just crazypants. Rosé is a wine for happiness. It’s a great choice for meals, sure – but it’s darned near impossible to drink rosé and be depressed. There’s something about that fruit and acid balance that just calls for friends and a social setting. And while, yes, there are certainly levels of quality that can roughly correlate with price – come on, that’s simply excessive. Give me $70 and the Spanish section and I’ll get you three bottles that will knock your socks off. A $70 bottle of rosé is just showing off.

The other end of the spectrum, thankfully, hasn’t been pushed out of the market entirely. I like my rosé cold and plentiful and if you’re reading this, I know you do, too. After a recent trip to the store where I saw that a couple of producers are now boxing rosé, I decided to pit three large-format rosés against each other in a happy-go-lucky wineglass rodeo. The contenders:

• Bota Box 2016 California Rosé (3 liter box -- $20-25)
• La Vielle Ferme 2016 Rosé (1.5 liter bottle -- $14-18)
• Black Box 2016 “Limited Edition” California Rosé (3 liter box -- $20-25)

[Side note – a few of you may remember that I swore off Black Box wines after a series of messes in my fridge from spout issues. I let one back in the house…you know…for science.]

The La Vielle Ferme is from the Southern Rhone valley, just northwest of the Provence region. It’s a blend of Cinsault, Grenache, and Syrah. The Bota Box and Black Box wines are considered “California blends” – meaning there’s not 75% of one varietal in either. The Black Box wine says that it’s “built around Syrah,” and I couldn’t find info on the makeup of the Bota. I suspect it’s also Syrah-driven.

Pouring the wines side-by-side-by-side, the LVF was by far the lightest in color – the pale pink traditionally associated with much French rosé from Provence and surrounding environs. The Bota Box was a slightly darker pink, although still clearly on the lighter side of the ledger. The Black Box was a darker salmon color, almost orange. This shouldn’t be considered a defect – rose gets its color through brief contact with grape skins. The longer the contact, the darker the wine, so one would expect a richer flavor with a darker colored rosé.

On to the flavors – rosé typically has a fairly delicate nose, as was the general case here. The Bota Box’s nose was light with peaches and strawberries as the dominant characteristic. I found it to be medium weight for a rosé, with more strawberries and a mildly acidic palate. The finish was crisp and fairly clean. I see this as an inexpensive American riff on a French rosé.

The LVF was along the same lines as the Bota, but classed up a bit. While peaches and strawberries were in the game here, the nose was much more “blossomy” on those particular flavors. The wine was lighter and more crisp, with lemons, peaches, and strawberries all taking their turn on the palate. While it’s certainly not a complex wine by any stretch, it tastes like what you would expect from a dry French rosé.

The Black Box was produced in a different style altogether. Oranges and grapefruit were the first flavors I got from the bouquet, which was followed by melon and cantaloupe on the palate in a somewhat heavier style. The finish was fruitier, lower in acid, and had a minerally/metallic taste that wasn’t nearly as pleasant to drink as the other two. Served cold, this would be good if you really weren’t thinking about it much. A cheap rosé for day drinking perhaps.

So, as one might expect, the wine that came in the big bottle topped the two boxes, but not by much. I’d not hesitate to pour either the Bota Box or the La Vielle Ferme on a hot summer’s day for some kickback time or with a meal where you really aren’t looking for a perfect wine pairing. Drink your rosé without thought and with happiness, the way it was intended.

Checking in with Charles Smith

Over the Vine’s period of years, I’ve seen wine trends come and go. Wineries merge, brands change, labels change. Early on in my tasting time, I remember hearing about a Washington winemaker named Charles Smith.

Smith had a reputation as the “rock and roll winemaker.” With his big mop of curly hair and penchant for mosh pit-approved attire, Smith looked more Slayer than Sonoma. Using partnerships and interesting, approachable twists on a number of wines, Smith built up an intriguing portfolio and a great deal of brand loyalty when he discovered that simple, eye catching label designs crossed with quality, reasonably priced juice makes a successful market entry. His labels and their black and white iconography look back at you at most decent wine stores.

Smith has long been into sustainable agriculture. All of his winemaking operations follow up-to-date growing techniques and such. I also have some recollection of Smith being an early adopter of using Stelvin screw-top closures exclusively.

OK...Let's do this...

Recently, a slate of five of Smith’s wines showed up at the door. I was interested to get re-acquainted with many of these, since it’d been a couple of years since I’d actually done a full-on tasting of them.

Charles Smith 2015 “Eve” Washington State Chardonnay ($13) – Eve is appropriate moniker. Ripe sweet apple blossom is the first note that shows up in the bouquet, and that’s mirrored with those similar apple flavors on the palate, backed with some tropical fruit. Very lean style, but not overly acidic. No butter or cream. Tastes like there’s just a kiss of oak to round out an exceptionally well-balanced chard. Super pleasant to drink, and a great accompaniment to some slow-baked salmon alongside some sautéed mixed veggies, broiled with shredded parmesan.

Had the Charles Smith 2014 “Chateau Smith” Cabernet Sauvignon ($20) and the Charles Smith 2014 “Boom! Boom!” Syrah ($18) side by side. This pair of deep reds were cracked and poured next to a quality grill-job on some steaks. The Cabernet was rich and fruity, with dark cherry flavors and some blackberry notes against a medium weighted body. The finish was dry and not quite as long as I thought it might be, at least initially. It improved over the course of the evening.

The Syrah, on the other hand, was a juicy, savory experience. Lots of rich blueberry and blackberry flavors, a somewhat fruity and floral nose from the hint of Viognier blended in. The finish did something quite interesting – it starts off quite dry and earthy, then comes back with a little bit of candied sweetness that I found quite pleasant. Alongside the steaks, in a bit of a surprise to me, I found myself preferring the Syrah.

The Charles Smith 2014 “The Velvet Devil” Merlot ($13) has long been one of my go-to bottles of value-priced red, and not just because of my alma mater. (Although this Devil is much more Purple than Blue.) Smith has always produced a quality merlot – and this vintage is no exception. Dark, rich cool-climate fruits are in abundance here, although there’s enough of a tobacco-ish backbone to keep it from becoming a complete fruit bomb. Good restraint in the flavor and some good earthiness and fruity on the finish. Another quality entry. This ended up being an end-of-day wine that went really well with chocolate.

Then, there’s my old fave, Charles Smith 2015 “Kung Fu Girl” Riesling. ($13) I still remember years ago when I first saw an article about Smith, where he was asked about the name of this particular wine. His booming response was “"WHY? BECAUSE, RIESLING AND GIRLS KICK ASS!" The man knows. In any case, I’ve recommended this Riesling more times than I can count, because I find it hits the middle of the Venn diagram for people who aren’t into super-sweet Rieslings, and those who can’t deal with the flinty dry ones. Rich with citrus and honey, this is one of the better wine pairings with spicy Asian cuisine that you’ll run across. Peaches and some nice minerality round out the experience.

Mr. Smith, himself.

Finally, just to be a completist – and because I happened to run across this wine when I was ambling down the pink aisle – there was the Charles Smith 2015 “Vino!” Rosé ($12) – the newest addition to his catalog. This wine, made from 100% Sangiovese grown in Washington State, which is an interesting twist in and of itself, is a very solid, study quaffer. Full of melon and strawberry with a backing of herbs, I powered through this wine much too quickly on my front porch on a warm day in early May. What was left of the bottle was fabulous with salmon.   

Smith’s wines continue to hold their reputation for being solid, well-priced entries in the “quality everyday wine” category. I still give them a thumbs up.

Slap On Another "Côtes"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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!

Down the South American Aisle -- The Bloom of the Blending Grape

Neighbor Jeff and I make an annual trip to our local Big Wine Store to stock him up for his annual project. You may remember the adventures of Jeff’s Dinner Club – an undertaking in honor of his wonderful wife, Christine the Pie Queen. Jeff lovingly crafts one delightful meal per month for his lovely Lady of Confection. As a planner, he prefers to have all of his wines in place before the project begins.

Our recent shopping trip (artist's rendition)

Jeff also likes themes and loves his grill, so we found ourselves in the South American aisle this time around. South American wine is food-friendly enough as it is, but it lends itself so very nicely to food dragged across fire. We ended up selecting a number of wines from below the equator for his year’s project.

Since we were in the neighborhood, and since the Vine has been pretty heavily Eurocentric recently, I decided to snag a few bottles from South America myself. I wanted to try some varietals I wasn’t overly familiar with from that area of the globe. I pulled some “new for me” wine from Argentina and Chile. I also picked up my first-ever bottle from Uruguay. You know, for science – and for sharing, of course.

Among white wines, Argentina is best known for a grape called Torrontes, the second-most widely planted grape in that country. (The largest white varietal in Argentina by acreage is Pedro Ximenez, which is also one of the grapes grown in Portugal to make sherry.) Torrontes is considered Argentina’s “national white.” I was musing to Jeff, “I wonder why the Argentineans don’t make sparkling wine with all this Torrontes.” My eyes flicked over a few degrees and I happened to catch a glimpse of a sparkling wine cage, in which was – you guessed it – a sparkling Torrontes.

The bottle in question was Spirit of the Andes (NV) Sparkling Torrontes. From grapes grown in the Mendoza region, the largest winemaking region in Argentina, this sparkling wine is a refreshing enough sparkling quaff. Very pale in color, with a nose of apple blossoms, which move into a green apple-dominant flavor. It’s fairly acidic, and a little sharp on the carbonation. It was a decent enough sparkling wine, but it wouldn’t make me turn away from Cava as an inexpensive sparkling option anytime soon. $17 is a bit high for this one.

A bit further down the Argentina aisle, I saw a bottle of the Humberto Canale 2008 Cabernet Franc, and decided give it a run. I’m familiar with Malbec, Bonarda, and Cabernet Sauvignon as Argentine reds, but not Franc. Cabernet Franc is a hit or miss varietal often used for blending which, on its own, tends to produce a relatively lean, tannic wine. Most versions have a finish that tastes like graphite, which makes it a “love or hate” wine for many folks. But one region’s blending grape can be another region’s gold mine – as when the French first planted the Bordeaux blending grape Malbec in Argentina and it exploded into world prominence. Maybe there was something interesting to be found here.

The results were…mixed. I don’t know what kind of aging potential Argentine Cabernet Franc normally has, but this one might have been a bit on the downhill. The nose was of blueberries and violets with a barnyard-y funk in the background. I found it to be medium-bodied with a fair amount of dark fruit and a streak of earth. The finish is more blueberries, with a long line of pencil lead gradually trailing off. As it got some air, it developed more of the barnyard flavors, to the point where fruit largely faded. An inconclusive bottle, at best. Around $20.

Just across the aisle was the selection from Chile. Thanks to the nation’s skinny geography covering over 2,600 miles of latitude, Chile produces a little bit of everything. Among reds, they predominantly produce Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot/Carmenere, and Pinot Noir. I only remember trying one Syrah from Chile, so I thought it a ripe time for a revisit.

I should have remembered the big Chilean wines require quite a bit of time to open up. The fruit on the Lapostolle 2010 Cuvee Alexandre Syrah was basically nonexistent for about an hour after I opened it, so crack it well in advance if you’re going to go down this road. Once it opens (and even the next day), it turns into a right interesting drink. If you feel that French Syrah is too earthy and Aussie Shiraz is too fruity, this bottle from Chile might be a nice sweet spot for you. I thought this was quite nice. The nose is big with blueberries and a little bit of oak. The flavor is full of big dark fruits which are balanced capably by some punchy tannins. The flavors are full, making a solid wintertime red. With chocolate or big meats, it’s a solid choice at around $18.

Right next to the wines from Chile was a narrow selection labeled “Other South American.” Among that group was the Bodegas Marichal 2013 Tannat from Uruguay. Uruguay? Pop quiz – can you find Uruguay on a map? No? Let me help you:

When the Sweet Partner in Crime and I were on a wine-tasting excursion in Italy several years ago, one of the other members of our group was going on and on about how wonderful Uruguay was. He said that the food and wine were basically the best in South America, and it was great – because almost no one knew about it. That was the last I’d heard of Uruguayan wine until I snagged this bottle.

Uruguay’s “national grape” is Tannat. Tannat originated in southwest France and is used as a high-tannin blending grape to round off the edges and add structure to the Cabernet-based wines in that area, which includes Cahors. In this respect, Tannat seems to have followed Malbec’s terroir-driven path in Argentina – bursting from seldom-used blending grape into high production.

We cracked this open next to an Indian-spiced version of a shepherd’s pie made with a base of lentils and a little bit of ground lamb. We made a heck of a good choice. The Marichal is an extremely easy to drink, low-alcohol entry – clocking in at 13%. This wine sees no oak, and the result is a lean, fruit-driven red with enough grape tannin to give it a very nice structure. I found scents and flavors of raspberries and cherries – it’s about halfway between a pinot noir and a light Cabernet Sauvignon. There’s a nice little undertone of smoke, too. I’d certainly give this high marks, and for $13, it’s a great value for the quality.

Jeff got his wine cellar restocked, and there’s a rumor that he might even start the Dinner Club adventure posts up again…so watch this space…

The Grape White North -- Wines of British Columbia

Lining 'em up in Vancouver...

The jumping off point for my summer vacation with the Sweet Partner in Crime was Vancouver. Neither of us had ever been up to that particular area of the Pacific Northwest, and we’d heard that it was a really cool city. We weren’t disappointed. We ate and drank like royalty when we weren’t putting considerable miles on our shoes and the tires of rented bikes.

One of our missions for our time in Vancouver was to become acquainted with the wines of British Columbia. As you know, we’re big fans of the wines of Oregon and Washington in this space, and it seemed logical that wine grapes shouldn’t be constrained by silly things like national borders. At our various stops around the city, we tried to sample wines from across the region.

“Wines from Canada? Never heard of them,” could be crossing your mind. I wouldn’t be surprised. British Columbia’s total wine grape production in 2014 was about 1/6 of the production of the state of Washington alone. BC wine is prized across Canada. About 80% of BC wine is consumed within the province, while about 15% is distributed across the rest of the country. Only about 5% of the total production is exported.

Why worry about it? Because these are pretty damned good wines! And production in BC has been gradually increasing – more than doubling in the last 10 years. Which means, I hope, that more of these wines will start showing up on US shelves.

A quick primer on wines from British Columbia, in case you run into them. The province has a designation, BC VQA, which stands for British Columbia Vintners Quality Alliance. This designation means that the wine has met certain standards of the region. In this case, a wine labeled BC VQA must be made from 100% BC grapes, 95% of which must come from the region designated on the label. (More on that in a sec.) The varietal listed on the label must comprise at least 85% of the wine’s composition. If it says “Merlot,” for instance, it’s at least 85% Merlot. Also, 85% of the grapes must be produced in the vintage on the label, which is somewhat different than most countries – in which most blends of grapes from different years would not carry a vintage date.

There are six major wine growing regions in British Columbia. The largest and best known is the Okanagan Valley (pronounced Oak-A-Noggin), which is about a five hour drive east of Vancouver towards the Interior, which is why we weren’t able to make it there on this trip. The bulk of BC wine comes from this region. Vancouver Island and the Gulf Islands at the southern tip of V.I. are also major producers.

Merlot is the most planted red varietal, followed by syrah, pinot noir, cabernet franc, and cabernet sauvignon. Among whites, you’ll find pinot gris and chardonnay leading the way, followed by gewurztraminer, riesling, and sauvignon blanc. The wine styles are fairly consistent with the cool climate wines you would ordinarily find in Oregon, Washington, and along the Sonoma Coast.

The Painted Rock rundown...

After returning from our vacation, I reached out to some of the wineries whose wines we’d really enjoyed along the way. One of them, Painted Rock – an Okanagan winery in the town of Penticton – was good enough to send some samples along. My thoughts:

Painted Rock 2010 Merlot – Their merlot is a sizeable wine that definitely needs some time in air to limber up. Even after decanting, the fruit stayed hidden for a bit, bringing out lots of graphite flavors with some restrained tannins. Once the blueberry flavors started popping after the wine got some air, the combination is really robust. I found some nice dark fruit and floral scents on the nose. It’s pretty smelling for a big ol’ honkin’ red. If a good Bordeaux decided that it wanted to be a little fruitier and softer in order to play nicely with others, you’d have a pretty good idea of this wine. Quite muscular for a cool-weather wine. But that was tame compared to…

Painted Rock 2010 Syrah – Hooboy, this one’s a biggie. Like the merlot, it really needed some time and space in air to get at the flavors. Decant early! I think the SPinC was intimidated simply by the pour of this wine. It’s some seriously thick, inky juice. After enough time in air, the nose becomes quite pleasant, full of violet and plum. Don’t let the soft nose fool you. This Syrah makes me think of a steroidal Chateauneuf-de-Pape. Big, dark fruits and a sizable whallop of tannins greet you in a hurry. I didn’t find it out-of-balance at all, but it’s not for the faint of heart. We had it with a roasted chicken and potato dish, and it was a little too big. Divine with chocolate, though. The SPinC, who is currently palate-wise calibrated for summer wines, just slid it aside. More for me! I quite enjoyed it.

Painted Rock 2010 “Red Icon” – The Red Icon was, far and away, our favorite of the three wines. This is a beautifully balanced red, made from a traditional Bordeaux blend (merlot, cab franc, petit verdot, malbec, and cabernet sauvignon in order). The nose is full of blackberries with a really pretty floral undertone. The flavor is full of cherries and plums, and it’s potent without being overpowering. The tannins are certainly firm, but they keep to the back, allowing the fruit to really shine, along with some strong vanilla notes. The finish is a lasting balance of leather, dark fruit, and smoke. I think this wine’s right in its wheelhouse right now. We opened this over Labor Day weekend and had it with some burgers from the grill. Grilled meat and this wine get along famously.

The Merlot and Syrah are both about $28-30 US. The Red Icon, which I really highly recommend, goes for about $35-40.

Some others that we really enjoyed along the way were the Blue Mountain Gamay Noir, which tasted like a cru Beaujolais; and the Tyler Harlton Pinot Noir, which was brambly and earthy – just the way we like it. There were also several nice whites that we had a chance to sample, the best of which for me was the Kanazawa “Nomu” -- a luscious blend of viognier, semillon, and muscat blanc full of creamy citrus, orange blossom, and peach flavors that was absolutely delicious next to some fabulous sushi at downtown Vancouver’s Shuraku Sake House.

[Other suggestions for awesome food and drink in Vancouver: Rodney’s Oyster House in Yaletown for fresh raw oysters and “Caesars,” Salt Tasting Room on Blood Alley for a unique, flavor-filled experience in a “Hamsterdam” portion of the city; “tacones” and fish chowder at Go Fish! on Granville Island; delicious tapas at The Sardine Can in Gastown; the hip young crowd at Hapa Izakaya for “Japanese tapas;” and Uva Wine & Cocktail Bar for late night downtown cocktails, jazz, and a smooth end to an evening.]

The SPinC at Salt Tasting Room

If you get a chance to try some of these north of the border selections, do so. With the unpredictability of climate change will be doing to many of our domestic wine regions – these BC wines may soon emerge as an interesting alternative. Keep your eyes peeled.

The Bodega Bay Bookend and another Sonoma Snowball

You might remember the Naked Vine’s May trip to California, where the Sweet Partner in Crime and I plopped ourselves down in the town of Sonoma, tooled around a bunch, and tried some delicious wine thanks to the Naked Vine Snowball Technique, which I described thusly:

How does this work? Start at the place where you’re staying. These people live there. They know things. Say something like, “We’re looking for a good place to start. We want somewhere fun, laid back, and not overly pricey.” Replace those descriptors with whatever you want…expensive wines, pinot noir specialists, great gift shop -- whatever floats your cork. You’ll end up with at least a couple of recommendations. Pop in to one of them and do a tasting. Chat. Enjoy. If you feel like you make a connection, then repeat your question to the good folks behind the bar. These people live there. They know things. They’ll mention a couple of other places. Those places will mention other places. Patterns form in the recommendations. You now have your guide. Go forth and enjoy.

We decided to head back out west again just before school started – this time using the Sonoma Coast as our base of operations, since we’d not done much exploration of that area of this wonderful wine region. The evening drive through the fog from SFO to the town of Bodega Bay was a bit harrowing, but all's well that ends well! We got checked in to the Bodega Bay Lodge (which I recommend once you get used to the foghorn in the bay going off every 30 seconds) and got ready for our new tour of the county.

 

(c) the San Francisco Chronicle

The Sonoma Coast AVA (AVA = “American Viticultural Area” – the designation for a subregion within a growing areas), as you can see, is a fairly large portion of Sonoma County. Most of the vineyards in this AVA are at much higher altitude than the rest of the county You might remember, during my writeup of the last Sonoma trip, that I discovered a preference for “mountain fruit” vs. “valley fruit” wines. Mountain fruit grapes from the generally cooler, breezier climates like the Sonoma coastal region create wines that are less fruit-forward and more subtle in flavor. 

These areas favor cool weather grapes such as pinot noir, rather than the Cabernet and Zin that you’d find just a few miles inland as the crow flies. The climate also gives an interesting twist to the Chardonnay and Syrah some growers are producing. The region also produces some absolutely fabulous rosé.   Many of these wines also tend to be somewhat more expensive, as the grapes are more difficult to grow and harvest. It’s easy to burn through a lot of coin ordering stuff if you’re not careful.

 

We started the snowball in Bodega Bay at a wine and gift shop called Gourmet Au Bay. Their trademark is their “wine surfing” samples, in which you get three pours on a surfboart. After a couple of tastes and a discussion about what we liked, we talked to the manager, Sissy, to see what she might recommend. Out came the highlighter and the map of Sonoma County, and we were off. 

Just getting under way. Two down, one to go.
(Snowball forming on map...)

With the narrow, twisty roads of this part of Sonoma County, we didn’t hit as many wineries as we could have – but I was pleased with our finds. Here were some of our favorites:

Iron Horse Vineyards – The gorgeousness that is the Iron Horse property is right on the border of the Sonoma Coast and Russian River AVA’s, so I’m including it. If you remember, Iron Horse was the tasting experience which started The Naked Vine down its path of oenological debauchery. Nine years had passed since we were last there, and they seem to have done pretty well for themselves in the interim. Unlike nine years ago, when they were crafting incredible cabernets (one of which, “Benchmark,” was the celebratory bottle when the Sweet Partner in Crime made full professor), they only make wine from estate fruit now. This means that they grow only Chardonnay and Pinot Noir – much of which goes into the sparkling wines for which they’re well known. We were fans of the Ocean Reserve Blanc de Blancs ($45), a sparkling wine that has an attachment to the National Geographic Ocean Initiative. Their pinot noirs were exceptional, but quite pricey. The $70 pricetag on the Russian River Pinot Noir was steep, but it’s a great wine. (http://www.ironhorsevineyards.com/)

Our return to the scene of the crime...Iron Horse.

Lynmar Estate – I’ve talked before about my notion of “wood theory” – in that there’s generally an inverse relationship between the amount of burnished wood in a tasting room and the quality of the wine. Lynmar is an exception to the theory, as their tasting room and surrounding gardens (which include a rosemary shrub taller than I am!) are lovely places to linger. The wine, as well, is lovely to linger over. Their focus is pinot noir and chardonnay, although they’ve begun cranking out some cool-climate Syrah. We really enjoyed their spread. I thought their Russian River pinot noir at $40 was exceptional, especially for the price. Lynmar also was where we discovered that a lot of these wineries are producing some pinot noir for the express purpose of creating rosé, like the good folks in Provence. Lynmar’s rosé was top notch. Their Quail Hill chardonnay, while hardly a bargain at $55, is simply luscious. (http://www.lynmarestate.com/)

Red Car Wine – Red Car won the “most interesting tasting room” prize from us on this trip, with its funky collection of memorabilia and a vibe that stops on the playful side of hipster. Red Car focuses almost exclusively on production from high-altitude, cold-climate vineyards, which produces very bright, clean, flavorful wine at relatively low alcohol levels. For instance, I don’t see a lot of Syrah under 13.5% alcohol, and Red Car’s Estate ($50) clocked in at 13.3% with gorgeous layers of plum, earth, and chocolate. Their Chardonnay ($35) could have fooled me into thinking it was a white Burgundy along the lines of the clean but oaky Meursault. Their pinots, which start around $40, also have a bit of that lean Burgundian earth and smokiness – and fruits that are very clean and striking. Highly recommended. (http://www.redcarwine.com/)

Red Car's tasting room. Good fun.

Taft Street Wines – “Garagistes since 1979” is their proud announcement. Garagistes were winemakers inBordeaux who operated outside the strict French guidelines for wine production, often making their wines in garages rather than on chateaux. The American iteration, which moved from a garage in Berkeley to an old apple processing plant in Sebastapol, was the best overall value of any of our stops. Their estate pinot is under $35, and I took a shine to their Alexander Valley Merlot, which at $20 was the best QPR I found on the trip. Fruity and lush with a really nice cocoa backbone, it’s worth stocking up on. They also produced some of the few sauvignon blancs we tried on the trip -- a steal at $18. (http://www.taftstreetwinery.com/)

Joseph Phelps Freestone Vineyards – Joseph Phelps is a very accomplished Napa winemaker. He’s produced three cabernets -- his “Insignia” label -- that earned 100 points from Robert Parker, including his 2002, which was named Wine of the Year by Wine Spectator. In 2007, Phelps opened a winery in the Sonoma Coast region for the grapes grown in his new Freestone Vineyards in the Sonoma Coast AVA. The $55 Freestone Vineyards pinot noir was a delicate, wonderfully balanced offering – full of fruit and smoke. We also discovered Phelps’ “second label” wine – Fog Dog – which were perfectly decent pinot noir and chardonnay, although at the price point, there were better wines in the county. We also had the opportunity to try the 2006 vintage of the “Insignia” which would retail for $240 – making it the second-most expensive wine I’ve ever tried. Needless to say, it was a pretty damned good wine. (http://www.josephphelps.com/)  I’ll be writing more about Phelps in the future, so stay tuned.

Fort Ross Vineyard – Fort Ross was the one Sonoma Coast tasting room we visited that was actually on the coast – about a 35 minute drive from Bodega Bay up the windy Pacific Coast Highway up through Jenner (where you absolutely must stop and get a sandwich and a beverage at Café Aquatica) and then up into the mountain fog to the beautiful tasting room, where you can watch the sun burn away the clouds as you sip on some excellent pinot noir and chardonnay. My favorite selection of theirs, however, was a grape I’d not seen anywhere else in the region: Pinotage, the national grape of South Africa – the native country of owners Lester and Linda Schwartz. I like South African pinotage just fine, but it’s usually a rough wine that calls for a big slab of meat from the braai. Planted in these coastal altitudes, the Fort Ross pinotage ($48) yields a rounder, smoother – yet still muscular – glass that features blackberry flavors and a really nice earthiness. Their pinot noir ($42-70) and rosé ($24) were also top notch. (http://www.fortrossvineyard.com/)

Fort Ross Vineyard -- Nice view, eh?

Fog Crest Vineyard – Our last stop was a lovely one, here at one of Sonoma’s newest tasting rooms. It’s so new (it just opened this year) that it’s not on the touring maps – and we only learned about it from our friends at Gourmet Au Bay. We were very glad that we made the turn up the driveway and planted ourselves on their lovely terrace overlooking the vineyard for our final tasting of the trip as we headed out of town. The view was a little reminiscent of Iron Horse – so yet another bookend. We really enjoyed the Estate Chardonnay ($39), chock full of crème brulee and spice and their full-flavored Estate pinot noir ($55) with its smoky layers that would be good to stash for a couple of years. The wine that made the biggest impression on me, however, was their Rosé ($21), Rich and fruity for a dry rosé, it’s clearly lovingly crafted. I pulled the trigger on a case for home, since one can never have too much good dry rosé around. (http://www.fogcrestvineyard.com/)

Saying farewells to Sonoma at Fog Crest.

If you’re over in that neck of the woods, I'd also recommend driving around Bayshore Drive in Bodega to get some oysters at Fisherman’s Cove (http://www.bodegabayoysters.com/), get dinner at Terrapin Creek Café (http://www.terrapincreekcafe.com/); and snag brunch at Willow Wood Café in Graton (http://www.willowwoodgraton.com/).

Cheers!

Turkish Delight III -- Wines of Turkey: Sevilen Winery

Our tour of Turkish wines takes us to Izmir in the heart of the Aegean winemaking region and one of the “older modern” wineries in Turkey, Sevilen Winery.

 

courtesy Sevilen Group

Sevilen celebrated its 70^th anniversary last year at the Isabey Vineyard and Winehouse, Sevilen’s on-site fine dining restaurant. The winery was founded in 1942 by Isa Guner, a first-generation immigrant to Turkey from Bulgaria. Guner’s travels in France planted the mental seeds for Sevilen, and the vineyards sprouted soon after. Now managed by third generation of the Guner family, Sevilen draws upon the winemaking expertise of Florent Dumeau, a consultant from Bordeaux, to produce its wines; as well as a partnership with a Turkish university to create better barrels from French oak.

Sevilen Winery, Manesia, Turkey

Sevilen’s estate-grown grapes are sourced from two main Aegean areas: from the coastal region around Izmir and from the Güney plateau somewhat farther inland. The two areas are climactically different. Izmir is warmer, similar to the weather around Athens – while Güney, at an elevation of 900 meters (about half a mile), has a climate closer to the Rhone region of France.

[Follow the series: Turkish Delight I -- Background and Kavaklidere Wine ; Turkish Delight II -- Arcadia Vineyards ; Turkish Delight III -- Sevilen Winery; Turkish Delight IV -- Vinkara Winery]

We received samples sourced from both of these areas. We did the sampling a little differently. As part of the package, we had pairs of Syrah-based and Sauvignon Blanc-based wines. Each was from a slightly different terroir, so we tasted those side-by-side to check out the contrast. We also had two other wines, a rosé and a Kalecik Karasi, a Turkish indigenous wine. Word to the wise if you get a chance to try Turkish wines. These wines really require some air to reach their full potential. Decant the whites for at least 15 minutes and the reds for half an hour or more. Let’s start with the side-by-sides:

Sevilen 2011 Sauvignon Blanc Denizli-Güney

Sevilen 2011 “900” Fumé Blanc Güney

This pair of Sauvignon Blancs provided an interesting contrast. (Just for information’s sake – Fumé Blanc is just another name for Sauvignon Blanc.) The “non-numbered” wine, which runs about $15, is almost austere until it gets enough air. Once it had time to breathe a bit, it settled on my palate with plenty of lime and apple. I found a fair amount of tropical fruit on the lean body along with a powerful backbone of mineral. It reminded me a lot of Muscadet with more tropical flavors.

The 900, which is only available in limited quantities for around $25, was one of the more interesting wines I’ve had in awhile. “It tastes like a margarita!” exclaimed the Sweet Partner in Crime, and she didn’t mean that in an “I’m on the beach in Mexico” manner. The nose is lime and green apple, with some more apple on the palate initially – but the finish becomes a rocketship of lime and mineral that made me pucker. Even after lots of air (and even the next day), there was enough lime in this wine to cure scurvy. If you like really acidic sauvignon blanc, this might be a wine for you. I didn’t mind it, but the SPinC had a strongly negative reaction.

With food – specificially shrimp roasted in herbs -- the less-expensive Sevilen was the superior wine. I’d get that one again. I’d probably pass on the 900.

Sevilen 2009 “Centum” Güney-Denizli Syrah

Sevilen 2007 “Premium” Izmir/Menderes Valley Syrah/Merlot

The Centum is a full, rich, opulent wine. It’s a full-tasting wine without being too overly heavy. I found lots of dark plummy fruit and exceptionally well balanced tannins. The texture on this wine was lovely. There’s a big nose of vanilla and caramel. I thought this was a really nice wine, and the description of similar terroir to the Rhone is apt here, as the flavor ends up in the neighborhood of a high-quality Cotes du Rhone. It also calls out for Big Food. We grilled up some lamb burgers and sautéed up some potatoes to go alongside the pairing. The Centum was exceptionally good with the burgers. It also worked well with some strong Roquefort cheese that we tried for dessert. It retails for around $30.

While both these wines need air, the Premium does especially after we discovered its flavor does something uniquely odd. At first, it was very pleasant – not too heavy, nice spicy fruit, and a balanced nose of blueberry, cinnamon, and a not-unpleasant scent of roasted meat. It was more tannic than the Centum. After about 15 minutes, the nose’s fragrance utterly vanished. The wine had flavor but no scent, which was weird. Another 15 minutes later, the nose changed to something that smelled like wet brown paper towels like you’d find in a grade school – and then it returned to normal. (Interestingly, the Centum did something similar after being open for a couple of hours – but the “nose neutralization” didn’t last as long.) The Premium wasn’t bad on its own. It wasn’t as good with the lamb, but with the potatoes it was actually a better pairing than the Centum. Go figure. (Note: I couldn't find a price point for the Premium.)

Sevilen 2009 Kalecik Karasi Denizli-Güney – Kalecik Karasi has become one of my favorite Turkish indigenous grapes, but definitely take heed of my “let these Turkish reds breathe before you drink them” advice with this one. After only a few minutes open, it’s tannic and almost sour. There are few wine metamorphoses I’ve experienced more dramatic than this wine has after decanting and some solid swirling. The tannins and tartness mellow and blend into a fragrant nose of vanilla, plums, and fresh cut wood. The body is fullish, with tarry, black fruits abounding. The finish is full of coffee and more dark fruit. We were making kebabs the night we opened this because I figured, “Hey! Turkey! Kebabs!” With the ingredients we had around, the meal’s flavors ended up being much more Cajun than Mediterranean in nature, especially with a side of red beans and rice. Even alongside those spices, this was quite a nice pairing. I would recommend it, especially at $15.  

Sevilen 2010 “R” Syrah-Cabernet Sauvignon Rosé Izmir/Menderas Valley – A very pleasant, straightforward rosé, and the first of the Turkish wines that didn’t require at least 10-15 minutes of air when opened. There’s a very pleasant peach and vanilla nose. Those flavors are echoed on the palate, which is on the lighter side and gently fruited. Weightwise, it’s along the lines of a Cotes du Rhone rosé. The finish is soft, slightly grapefruity, and lasting. An excellent choice with many foods, too, I would imagine. We had this alongside a “Spanish Mixed Grill” – chorizo sausage, chicken thighs in an adobo-lime-garlic marinade, and yellow rice. The fruit held up just fine against those spices and flavors. I’d certainly give this a second try. And it’s very reasonable at $13.

Naked Vine Double Barrel -- Le Drunk Rooster

I received a couple of sample bottles from Bourgeois Family Selections of a French tipple from the Languedoc–Roussillon region called “Le Drunk Rooster.” The wine’s moniker stems from an interesting cross section of symbols. The “state bird” of France is the rooster. (The Latin word for both “France” and “rooster” is “Gallus,” interestingly enough.) One of the winemakers that crafted these creations enjoys a good dance after imbibing. Alas, he apparently has (in a phrase I’ll steal from my mother) “more enthusiasm than rhythm on the dancefloor.” His style is, according to the information sheet, “the French version of the Chicken Dance,” hence the name.

How were they?

Le Drunk Rooster 2011 Chardonnay – This wine is in a light-bodied, lean style. No surprise, considering the region. After a little air opens it up, a considerable amount of oak starts to emerge. I’m not talking Meridian Chardonnay levels of oak – more like a Mersault from Burgundy (although it’s not creamy like a Mersault). It’s got a tart, green apple character on the palate with a lasting oaky finish. Even as light-bodied as it is, the backbone allows it to stand up firmly next to some pretty hearty fare. We poured this with a chicken and Italian sausage casserole, and it worked just fine. I thought it was a pretty solid food wine.

Le Drunk Rooster 2011 Grenache-Syrah – We opened this one during the midst of our kitchen remodel. Our first bottle of the evening had run dry, and we needed something to sip on as the evening wore on. I knew it was from the southern Rhone, so I figured it would make a decent sluggable. Turns out it was slightly better than that. If you’re a fan of peppery wines, this one will grow on you. This blend of 65% Grenache and 35% Syrah isn’t overly heavy, it’s got a good, strong blackberry backbone, followed up by a spicy “tailfeather.” It’s pleasantly smooth, medium bodied, and even on the tannins. We didn’t have this with food – but it was reasonable with evening chocolate.

Both wines retail for $10-11. Worth a try.

A Super Basic Primer on French Red Wine

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

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

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

Let’s rock around the clock, shall we?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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