The Quasi-Outdoorsy

Overlooking the simple pleasure of a getaway is far too easy.

The Sweet Partner in Crime treated me to a weekend vacation at Natural Bridge State Park to celebrate my birthday. We had a rough agenda. Sleep in on Friday, get up at our leisure, and head down to Lexington to catch the last day of Keeneland. (I ended up breaking even on the day, thanks to a strong ride by a 10-1 longshot from Devil Eleven Stables bred by an old classmate of mine.)

After good times at the track, we headed down the Mountain Parkway to Slade. We stopped at Miguel's, one of the best little pizza joints you'll ever stumble across and unofficial community center to the "climber's commune" behind the place. We picked up a pizza and a salad there and headed for our cabin in the park.

We had a little mix-up at check-in. We opened up our cabin -- only to find someone else's bags already in the bedroom, newspaper in the kitchen. We called the front desk. I explained to the high-schoolish sounding attendant the situation and (after she asked "Are you serious?" and "Are you sure? Did you just check in?") said that she could get us another cabin. We went back to the lodge and received an apology and new keys from the manager. We ended up, by chance, in the same cabin where we did the Riesling tasting last year.

We settled in, finally able to enjoy the yumminess from Miguel's. Our need for bubbly with pizza is well documented, so we'd brought along a bottle of Royal St. Vincent Brut for the occasion (Usually around $15, found on sale for $10). The bubbly was crisp, dry, and had a little yeasty character. It tasted wonderful after a day in the sun and was simply delicious with the pizza.

The SPinC and I are what you might deem "quasi-outdoorsy." We love being outside, enjoy taking hikes, and think of ourselves as relatively adventurous -- but at the end of the day, rather than pitch a flimsy tent and sleep on roots and rocks, we'd much rather return to our cabin, shower, and cook a good meal in a fully-equipped kitchen. Some of you might consider that cheating, but hey...it's our vacation!

So, what did we bring along on this little jaunt of ours? Well, for general consumption after hikes and the like -- our old standard Redcliffe 2006 Sauvignon Blanc found its way into the fridge. For our evening chocolate consumption, we had a bottle of Benjamin Tawny Port from Australia ($10-13). An inexpensive port, it's got a strong but not overpowering sweetness, lots of flavors of vanilla and fruit, and a delicious finish. At the price, you probably won't find anything that can touch it.

The port also played itself into the meal we cooked on Saturday. We fired up the grill to cook some cardamom-and-balsamic marinated ostrich steaks. The ostrich was free-range raised by a colleague of mine at work (who, sadly, is getting out of the business). I'm a huge fan of the stuff, and if you haven't tried it -- it tastes like steak with the fat content of chicken. We did foil packets of vegetables and some boiled new potatoes. As a side, we diced a big apple and cooked it down with beef broth, the port, some honey, and more balsamic. Unearthly good as a chutneyish topping. Dessert was a couple of grilled pineapple rings, topped with more of the apple and port sauce.

To drink, I rolled the dice and tried a California meritage called Beauzeaux from BV ($9-12). 2005 was the first year of this blend, which has a Zinfandel base and includes juice from seven other grapes. It was nothing fancy -- just a straightforward, somewhat juicy red wine. Honestly, I wouldn't have wanted anything overly complicated with this dinner. There were so many fantastic flavors in the food that I was happy for the wine to stand at attention in a friendly fashion. For that purpose, it worked well enough as a complement. (Although I wouldn't recommend it with the pineapple.)

The rest of the weekend when we weren't eating? Other than a couple of wonderful walks in the woods (and with the slow spring we've had, we were right in the "wildflower wheelhouse" -- just beautiful colors) -- we didn't do much. We sat on the porch and watched the wind blow. We napped. We channel-surfed mindlessly (although the SPinC was fascinated by "Flip this House.") We talked and laughed. We relaxed. We slept like babies.

No email. No Internet. No cell phone service. We noticed that this was the first time in a long time that we weren't doing something. Both of us are really busy in our regular lives, and even when we have time at home -- we're usually doing something social, or catching up on watching shows, or we're checking email, or doing things for work, or running errands, or writing, or something that requires one or the other of us to be focused on something.

This weekend stood in stark contrast. Doing nothing, not plugged in for a couple of days -- not feeling the urge to be connected to people outside the room and the moment -- that peace was a luxury and a gift. No, we weren't completely "off the grid," but it was enough. The weekend gave us both nice recharge and a powerful reminder of just how easy it is to get caught up in the flow of what we find important in the "real world."

When did solitude become hedonistic?

Ol' Red Ned & Ol' Rog Fed

About six months ago, the Sweet Partner in Crime wanted to start taking tennis lessons. Both of us had batted a ball around before, but neither of us really knew how to hit groundstrokes properly, serve consistently, or use any strategy other than "try not to shank the ball onto the adjoining court."

Along came The Coach, a colleague of the Sweet Partner's, who responded to her request to "give us a few pointers" by setting up weekly lessons, breaking down our bad habits, and giving us the ability to actually keep a rally going. Coach is always good for the pithy gem. On the first day he worked with us, he came out with this:

"You know what the best shot in tennis is? The one that goes over the net. After that, there's a world of possibility. The wind could blow the ball in. You could hit a bird. Your idiot opponent could hit a volley from the baseline. But if it goes in the net, the point's over. Everything goes from there."

As the weeks passed, I realized that I have the natural ability to play "caveman tennis" (not a good thing), learned that moving on a tennis court is like playing basketball defense instead of trying to fill a hole like a linebacker, discovered that I can hit a decent one-handed topspin backhand, and discovered a competitive intensity in the SPinC I'd never seen before. (Note: Hit to her backhand if you play her. One she lines up her forehand, you're toast.)

Obviously, six months isn't enough to turn me into Roger Federer (although I actually have been mistaken in public for Andre Agassi…), but improving has been fun. So, in honor of the Australian Open championships, the Vine features Australian Shiraz. Shiraz, as I've mentioned before, is Australia's most notable wine export. There are any number of inexpensive wines from Australia -- known down under as "plonk" or "red ned." These "pop tart" wines are often interchangeable, and I wanted to move a bit beyond Little Boomey & Yellowtail. We're approaching the Finals, after all.

These very distinctive Australian creations are, like a weak backhand volley, squarely in the Vine's wheelhouse:

d'Arenberg 2004 "The Love Grass" Shiraz -- Love Grass itself is a weed is native to Africa; introduced in Australia as livestock fodder and to stabilize soil. The name comes from its uncanny ability to spread by attaching its seeds to anything that brushes by the stalk, be it animal, vehicle, human, etc. [Insert your other easy spun double entendres here.] The nose is...honestly, I don't know. The SPinC and I puzzled over this one. Leather? Coffee? Mint? Vanilla? We couldn't quite get a handle on it, but it's distinctive and we liked it. It was also, to steal from Sauvignon Blanc, a little "herbaceous." [Again, insert appropriate "grass" comment of your own.] The flavor is big and full of berries, but the finish is a drop volley of tannin across the back of the tongue. This big, herby Shiraz is great on its own, but it blew our doors off accompanied by a little dark chocolate. $12-14.

Pillar Box Red 2006 -- Pillar Boxes are the British Empire's contribution to the mail system. These metal boxes were the forerunner of the modern public drop mailbox. These were used throughout the British Empire in the 1800's. They initially were any number of colours, but eventually (as typical of the English) standardized to red, hence the wine's name. As for the wine itself, in the US, this would be a "meritage" -- a blend of half shiraz, a good portion of cabernet sauvignon, and a dollop of merlot. The results? Impressive. The nose has layers of interesting aromas: cherries, vanilla, and something like a baking cookie. It's a well-balanced wine with plenty of fruit and a nice amount of tannin. The finish is long, a little fruity, and dry. $10-12.

Shoo Fly 2006 "Aussie Salute" -- Another blend. This one is largely Shiraz, about a quarter Grenache, and a splash of Viognier. The "Australian Salute" is the term for waving one's hand in front of the face to flick away the ubiquitous bushfly. The name of the winery and the decals on the bottle pay homage to this Australian native arthropod. It's said that the Australian accent is a product of nose-breathing to avoid inhaling these buggers. Inhale deeply of this wine, however! The natural perfumes of the Viognier amplify the fruit of the Shiraz, bringing you a powerful combination of plums and coffee. The flavor is fascinating. All three of these grapes are featured in Cotes du Rhone -- and the flavor is, as the SPinC put it, "Like a fruity Cotes-du-Rhone without the funk." The finish is somewhat fruitier than a C-d-R, but with similar tannins, allowing it to flex between earthy foods and chocolates. A very nice find. $11-13.

Hooroo...

Testosterone Sauvignon -- Wines for Men

Men like wine. Why don't we see it advertised to them?

Watch typical "male" programming. You know, talking sports, wrestling, action movies, "24," and so on. You don't see wine ads among the deluge of "light" beers, gadgets, and John Mellencamp singing about Awrrr Countreee. Heck, they'll advertise a flippin' minivan, but not a decent bottle of cabernet.

Men are a stable wine buying population. We drink the stuff. We write songs about it (from the Rolling Stones to Merle Haggard to Axl Rose). The majority of winemakers are men. The manliest writers -- think Hemingway, London, Kerouac, et al -- feature it prominently. Behind the pursuit of "yabyum" and enlightenment, a close third-ranking activity in "The Dharma Bums" was finding a jug of wine and hanging out. Basically, the same things we still do…

Perhaps winemakers think that men aren't a good target demographic. Perhaps they think that other avenues are more effective -- I'm not sure. Even with females making up the larger percentage of wine drinkers (52.5 to 47.5%), that still leaves about a billion bottles consumed by men each year in the U.S. alone, and they haven't even surveyed me yet. In my opinion, the first winemaker to catch on to the fact that there are more than Neanderthals watching "everyday man" shows will make a mint. Maybe a couple of winemakers are wising up. I heard an ad for Dancing Bull Wines on "Mike and Mike in the Morning" on ESPN Radio, so who knows?

Regardless, as a rule, men are usually more clueless than women in a wine store. Why? Genetics. We're preprogrammed to a) be the authority and b) never ask for directions. (That thud you just heard was the Sweet Partner in Crime braining me with an Introduction to Sociology textbook.)

Let a typical man loose in a wine store and what happens? A little aimless wandering, perhaps the "what have I heard of before" thought process -- and, eventually, the same thing happens to a man as a woman. He looks at labels and buys something that looks interesting. Shiny objects and pretty colors, you know. Breweries figured that out a long time ago.

Slowly, wineries are coming around to this way of thinking. I put myself in a mindset of looking at labels and walked the aisles, thinking, "What looks interesting?" Here are a couple that jumped out:

Bohemian Highway 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon -- For the ex-and-present hippies among us. This is a pretty straightforward cab. A cab you could pour and enjoy with a meal, or sit around and Kerouac right out of the bottle. The fairly strong nose is currants and blackberries. The body is big and fruity. Nothing you have to work too hard to wrap your palate around. The finish is straight fruit, almost Zin-ish. Not a lot of tannin to be found, so it would be an excellent party wine. The flavor blends well with anything smoky. $7.

Joe Blow 2005 White Wine -- Even more challenging than finding the right marketing for men would be finding a way to market white wine to men. At least red wine has the romance and the better descriptive words on the cards in the aisles. You don't hear a pinot grigio described as "muscular" very often. So, create a label that says, "Hey…no big deal…it's just wine." Ironically, the Joe Blow is made from three very "female" varietals: chardonnay, viognier, and chenin blanc. The nose is very interesting. I guess you'd call it "tropical," but I got an odd combination -- butter and papaya -- and it worked. The viognier makes the nose strong, the chardonnay gives it a full body, and the chenin blanc adds a nice crispness. A good hot weather wine or with anything spicy. $10.

Jarhead Red California Table Wine -- The Marine emblem stands out on this simply labeled wine, marketed as a wine "made by Marines for Marines." I'm not a veteran, but I certainly appreciate the service of the Marines and the fruit of the labors of a couple of them. Made in conjunction with Firestone Vineyards (most of the wines are out of Vine range, but if you get a chance to try their cabernet, splurge.) The Jarhead is a solid red, definitely a cabernet dominated blend. Plenty of fruit on both the nose and palate. The finish is dry, but not very long. More of a get in, get out wine with any kind of red meat. We had this outside one night in the company of one of our neighbors. The proceeds from the sale of this wine go to the Marine Corps Scholarship Fund (mcsf.org). This organization provides educational assistance to the children of fallen Marines. $13.

Reese's Cup Wines

Allow me a moment of nostalgia.

I was speaking to a group of new freshmen at the institution of higher learning that funds my wine habit. As part of answering a question, I came out, for some reason, with, "You got your peanut butter in my chocolate…"

No one batted an eye. They had no clue. An entire generation of college students raised without "two great tastes that taste great together."

(Honestly, I don't remember the exact context -- and the Sweet Partner in Crime can attest that such a thing is fairly common.)

After the "jeez, you're getting' old" bell stopped ringing much later that evening, I decided to drown my sorrows a bit -- and what better way to honor that little piece of popular culture than with wines based on a similar principle.

Blending wines made from different grapes is almost as old as winemaking itself. Someone realized early on that proper proportions of different varietals greatly improve a wine's overall flavor. For instance, many cabernet sauvignons are bottled after being mixed with a touch of cabernet franc. This blend takes the edge off the tannin and brightens the fruit. Some wine growing areas even have laws requiring wines to be blended.

The French refer to a blended wine as a "cuvée." Literally translated, "cuvée" means "vat" -- which makes sense if you think about it. Cuvées were initially cheap table wine. The term has broadened significantly. Wine growers in Bordeaux and the Rhone valley specialize in cuvées. Practically all the wines from these regions, from inexpensive bistro wine to expensive first growth Bordeaux, are cuvées. Heck, Chateauneuf-de-Pape (a famous Rhone wine) is a blend of up to 13 different grapes!

American wine growers wanted to get in on the act. However, the growers couldn't call their wines "Bordeaux," obviously, and ATF regulations required a wine to be at least 75% of a single grape to be officially "named." If it wasn't 75%, it had to be labeled "table wine," which was unfortunate, considering the quality. In 1988, some California wine growers made up the term "Meritage" for blends of California grapes made in the style of French wine.

Meritage was the standard term for a bit -- but the growers discovered that few among the "normal" wine drinkers knew what the heck it meant. Then came the "Proprietary Blend" -- which basically meant that they'd put whatever they wanted in it. This was followed by "Rhone style" to add an element of gravitas. Finally, as with most things, we've come full circle. Many better American wineries are releasing "cuvees." In France, Georges DuBeouf has started making surprisingly decent blends out of leftover grapes -- called "Cuvée Blanc" and "Cuvée Rouge." Go figure.

Blended wines can be hit or miss. If the proportions are off, then the wine can end up a weak, flabby mess -- especially inexpensive blends. There are, however, many meritages with merit:

Oakley 2005 fourWHITES -- "It's very pretty," announced the Sweet Partner in Crime. This blend from Cline Cellars combines Gewurztraminer, Palomino (the grape from which sherry is made), Viognier, and Malvasia. I've never heard of that last grape. Honey and flowers on the nose like a viognier, a little of that sherry bite with the peach and citrus flavor, and a finish with a pepper like gewürztraminer. This one would be absolutely scrumptious with a salad with some mandarin oranges or something like bruschetta with fresh garden tomatoes and some balsamic vinegar. A steal at $7-9.

Toad Hollow "Erik's the Red" Proprietary Blend -- You want to talk about a serious blend? This wine has eighteen different grapes in the mix. It doesn't exactly follow any specific style -- rather, it's simply a tasty, full red. This wine has plenty of nice, deep flavors. Big dark fruit on the nose, coupled with a little of that Russian River valley boldness. The taste is soft and full of blackberries. The finish is long and fruity. While not very tannic, it's got enough muscle to hold up against some pretty hefty food pairings. It would go pretty well with a prime rib, I'd imagine -- but it's a really scrumptious companion for some dark chocolate. A good, solid, kick-back-and drink wine. $11-13.

Rosenblum Chateau La Paws 2005 Cote du Bone Roan -- One of my favorite French wines is Cotes-du-Rhone. The occasional problem with a CDR is that the earthy character of the wine often overwhelms the fruit, leaving it tasting flat. Rosenblum Cellars, known best for their Zinfandels, decided to do the Sonoma Twist with a Rhone style wine. They blended some of their Zinfandel with some of the traditional grapes of CDR (Syrah, Carignane, Mourvedre). The addition of Zinfandel creates an interesting nice balance -- a fruity wine with an earthy "backbone." The nose is plummy and spicy. It's a very big wine, as you'd probably expect. Lots more plum and smoke flavors. The finish has enough tannin to make it interesting, instead of trailing off into alcohol as many Zins do. We cracked this one simply by chance when we grilled up some marinated ostrich steaks with this. Yum! Simply put, this was one of the best grill pairings I've had in a long time. A filet mignon would also be scrumptious here. Give it a try. You won't be disappointed. $10-13.

For Jessie.

Jessie Red -- arguably the sweetest creature to ever put paws to soil. A chocolate lab whose smiles could light a room, and whose flatulence could clear it just as quickly. A chocolate lab with a lust for life that put Iggy Pop's to shame, and with a knack for mischief that…well…put Iggy Pop's to shame.

Jessie was the constant companion of my constant companion, Pam, for thirteen years. I've been told that Jessie was the screener five years ago for whether I got to join the household. (I'm glad I passed the test.)

Jessie was adopted a few weeks too young, so she never truly understood that there actually was a difference between human and canine. She saw herself as human and acted accordingly. Everyone entering the household deserved a proper greeting (she was always a proper lady) -- even if that meant bowling them over before drowning them in joyful slobber. People food was obviously prepared for her -- as was discovered upon walking into the kitchen to find Jessie hungrily devouring the second of two enormous porterhouse steaks that she'd jumped onto a counter and then onto a shelf to reach. Jessie would scarf down pretty much anything in reach, and she marginally preferred beef to recently-worn underwear.

So, aside from sentimental reasons, what's a chocolate Labrador retriever doing in a wine column?

Again, Jessie never understood what was and wasn't meant for dogs. Pam returned home from a long day in the salt mines of her graduate education to her usual enthusiastic Jessie Greeting, only to find shards of wine bottle glass all over the kitchen floor -- and nothing else. She'd left a wine bottle too close to the edge of the counter and Jessie -- in her ever-curious way, had knocked it off -- only to have it shatter. Jessie was a resourceful critter, however, and wasn't one to waste good wine. So she drank it.

All of it. Every drop. Carefully.

A panicked call to the vet followed. The vet asked if she was bleeding -- she wasn't. He gave the advice: "Keep an eye on her and make sure there are no signs of internal bleeding. Otherwise, just watch her." Jessie was skillful. She didn't cut herself at all. But, after the equivalent of five glasses of cabernet, Jessie had a BAC of approximately .23. She was very happy that night -- walking around with her usual big grin, and then staggering into walls, cabinets, before finally lying down to enjoy her buzz. And, yes, she was a bit hung over when all was said and done.

One year ago this week, we made the difficult choice to bid adieu to our sweet girl. After 13 years, her quality of life wasn't what it should have been, and she let us know in no uncertain terms that she was just tired and ready to go. We miss her every day...

In Jessie's honor this week: dog-themed wines…

Dog House "Checker's Cab" 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon -- "Welcome to the Dog House." I find it very fitting to open the wines here, as Jessie never met a stranger, neither canine nor homo sapiens. Jessie's constantly wagging tail of destruction would be flying after a few tastes of this very straightforward, compact cabernet. The big blackberry jam nose on this wine gives way to a slightly oaky red with some nice background tastes of licorice. The finish is very gentle for a cabernet sauvignon -- not terribly tannic with some lingering smoky flavor. Very easy to drink -- the Dog House would be a good "transition cab" for people who enjoy mellower reds like merlot and are interested in giving drier wines a try. Foodwise, the classic pairing with a cabernet is grilled steak, and this would be no exception. Pot roasts, ribs, or earthy mushroom-based dishes would be great here, as well. If you want a great tailgating wine -- the screw top (which you should not fear…more on that later) makes it a winner before a ballgame around the grill…that is, if you're not pouring Maker's. Dog House goes for $8-11, and the winery also makes a contribution with each sale to a nonprofit called "Guide Dogs for the Blind." As we need more of a reason to open a bottle…

Vinum Cellars "Pets" 2003 Petit Sirah -- Jessie would have been the wrong critter to ask about petit sirah. She didn't have much of a discriminating palate. However, she would have gotten along famously with "Tanker" -- the vintner's lab, featured on the bottle. Many people think Petit Sirah and Syrah are the same grape. While both grapes make big, bold wines -- petit sirahs tend to be extremely dark in color, almost black, and yield big, bold flavors and strong tannins -- much stronger than the mellower syrah (or Shiraz, which is the same grape). This wine needs to be opened and allowed to breathe for at least half an hour, but it's definitely worth the wait. The nose of this wine is powerful and fruity -- big scents of blueberry and blackberry. If you don't let it breathe, however, the fruit gets quickly overtaken by those signature tannins. However, with a little time exposed to air, the fruity complexity holds strongly against the tannin -- giving you a deliciously interesting flavor. The finish is long, spicy, and chocolaty. This big wine pairs up well with big foods -- roasted chicken or vegetables in sauce, prime rib, barbecue brisket. It also would go wonderfully with dark chocolate or big aged cheeses. Take the plunge with Pets to the tune of $12-15. And, in staying with the charitable theme, a portion of the sales go to the San Francisco Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Animals.

Finnegan's Lake "Fin." 2005 Chardonnay -- Jessie was full of surprises, and this chardonnay, with a profile of the puppy that is the wine's namesake, certainly gave me a start when I tasted it. I'm not a huge fan of California chardonnays these days -- they're often too oaky for my tastes. However, this wine is light and subtle, much unlike Jessie -- although both would be great fun at a summer picnic. The "Fin." reminds me much more of a French Chablis than of most chardonnays you'll run into from California, as it has a much lighter, much more lemony nose than most chardonnays you'll run into from there. The very fresh body has notes of vanilla and only a little bit of oak. The finish is long and light with just a little bit of spice. If you're not into the heavy oak or very buttery style of most California chardonnays, you'll become a fan of Fin. Light pastas, almost any type of grilled or baked fish & shellfish would probably go extremely well. Chablis and oysters is a classic pairing, and this would probably fall right in line. Thai cuisine would also be a nice pairing, especially if fish sauce is in the preparation. You'll probably end up between $11-14 for this wine, so if Chablis-style chardonnay is your thing, you'll probably like it a great deal. Fin is a decent American substitute for a classic French wine -- and since the French were some of the first Europeans to trade with the indigenous population of the Labrador region of Canada, perhaps it follows that Jessie's wine would be more French in style.

Until next time…oh, wait…excuse me…Jessie's younger sibling Mooch is nosing my elbow. He wants to get in on the act. He may be a topic of a later issue, but sure -- why not. Here's Mooch's pick for this week:

McNab Ridge "Fred's Red" 2006 -- This syrah/zinfandel blend from Mendocino County would be good to have around the house as we start donning (or growing) our winter coats. Fred is the McNab Shepherd namesake of this winery's whose picture adorns the bottle. Much like Mooch -- this wine is quite straightforward. This is a just-released wine, so I'd be interested to see what a few months or a year would do here -- but it stands up now nicely enough. There's a very full nose here for such a young wine. You get a blueberry and cherry scent at first -- and you can also tell you've got a wine that's got a bit of alcohol in it. There's fruit and very solid tannins in the body, with a long finish of smoke and licorice. Right now, the muscle of the syrah is the dominant flavor. I'd be interested to see if the fruit of the zinfandel balances the tannin as the next year or two passes. Big meats, of course, will go well with this -- but I'd be interested to see how it would stand up to a baba ghanouj or other strong eggplanty dish. Fred's Red nestles into your wine rack for right around $10.

Until next time…throw your paws in the air, and wave them like you just don't care…

"To cellar, perchance to dream..."

Wine cellar.

Wonderful words -- evoking an air of distinction, privilege, and, most importantly, a ready store of really good vintage for on-hand consumption. Realistically, these two words are a fantasy for most of the wine drinking world, and they should be -- especially for those of us who don’t want to break the bank.

As you probably already know, wine's natural enemies are heat, light, and exposure to oxygen. If Sherman set the Wayback Machine to the early days of winemaking, someone discovered that wine kept in a cave lasted longer and the flavor often improved over time. Underground, wine is obviously protected from light, stays at a constant temperature, and the stable humidity prevents the cork (or other stopper) from drying out, thus keeping the wine nice, cozy, and unoxidized until brought out and opened. Many of us try to emulate the "cave" with what we have handy -- usually a hall closet or basement. We may even install or build a rack or two to keep the bottles organized. Alas, we're generally doomed to failure.

Wine, like a Florida retiree, is extremely sensitive to temperature change. The optimal storage temperature for wine is 55 degrees Fahrenheit. This allows the proper chemical reactions to take place, producing the flavors we love so much. Once a wine gets warmer, the chemical reactions speed up. This not only ages the wine more quickly, but it can throw the balance of flavors seriously out of whack. At a constant 70 degrees, a wine will age between two and eight times faster than at 55 degrees. At 90 degrees, a wine will age between four to fifty-six times faster. If your wine is in the kitchen by the stove for a month in that cutesy little wrought iron wine rack that looks like a French waiter, it can be as if you've had it for 24 years.

I can already imagine some of you thinking, "Great! I can buy some wine that needs to be aged, keep it in a warm place for a month, and I'm all set." Not so fast. Higher temperatures increase the speed of chemical reactions, but wide swings in temperature, especially in heating, have a nasty effect on wine flavors since the reactions and oxidations get out of whack. With such variations, you're going to end up with vinegar faster than you can say "gewürztraminer." The "hall closet" trick usually fails here as well -- since very few closets are temperature-regulated. (Put a thermometer in your closet and check a few times if you don't believe me.)

So -- what do we do to hang on to wine?

A few possible options: first, you could petition your local zoning board to let you drill 20 or so feet beneath the foundation of your home, and build yourself a wine cave. That should be sufficiently deep to avoid freezing, while maintaining consistent temperature and humidity. Just watch the sewer lines.

Second, you could purchase a wine refrigerator. Serious wine collectors do this -- cheap ones will run you several hundred dollars, but they do an excellent job keeping wine in a proper state indefinitely. You can also rig a spare fridge to maintain a relatively constant temperature (I do this for homebrewing lagers) -- but even then, you probably wouldn't want to keep your Lafite '61 in there. Typical refrigerators allow swings in temperature of 8-10 degrees, which will keep wine in the right ballpark – but for really long term storage, it’s problematic.

Third, and most practically, tone down your expectations and drink your bloomin' wine. If you've got a relatively cool, relatively stable temperature anywhere in your domicile -- even if it's not perfect, you can still “cellar” wine. But, if you're like me, temptation eventually overcomes you. However, if you can stay your hand for a year or so, you can work wonders with relatively inexpensive wine – since many of them are shipped to market prematurely (and new vintages can be bargains, since they have no track record), and nine months or a year of aging will improve some wines markedly.

Some rules of thumb -- less tannic wines don't cellar as well, so pinot noir, merlot, Beaujolais, etc -- these should be drunk relatively young. Cabernets, zinfandels, shiraz/syrah -- these you can have around for awhile. White wines generally don't cellar well -- but there are a few exceptions which I'll touch on below.

Here are a couple of inexpensive numbers you might want to consider picking up half a case of and forgetting about for a little while:

Pietra Santa "Sacred Stone" Master's Blend Old World Style Red -- The reference to "Old World" in this overly-nomenclatured wine is to the winemaking techniques of the Rhone valley in France. Sacred Stone is an American version of one of a Rhone red. Many of the wines made in the Rhone are blends -- syrah is usually the backbone, but there are usually other grape varietals floating around in the mix. There’s an appellation (WineSpeak for “type of wine”) called Chateauneuf-de-Pape (French for "Chateau of the Pope" -- this wine bears the papal seal on the bottle) that can contain up to 14 different grapes. Rhone reds are very earthy, and a wine drinker first trying one of these can be knocked back rather harshly by what could be termed a "mild nose of old armpit." Many Rhone wines taste best to me with a little decanting. The Sacred Stone is a Rhone wine with a dose of deodorant. This wine is a blend of Syrah, Grenache, Zinfandel, and a few other grapes. It has a nose of earth, plums, and pepper. When you taste it, the Zinfandel comes at you very strongly. There's a powerful fruit flavor with surprisingly mellow tannin considering the nose of the wine. The finish is peppery with a nice lingering fruit flavor and warmth. I think you should be able to find this one for $8-11, and you could certainly (as suggested by the label) cellar this one for a year or two and end up with what could be an extremely good value. Any kind of earthy vegetables, meats, shepherd's pie, etc. would be absolutely top notch with this one. I think this is a fantastic wine for the price.

Root:1 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon -- The official wine of The Wizard of Covington, Root: 1 is another South American entry into the world of inexpensive wines. I focused on Chilean sauvignon blancs, but their growths of cabernet continue to improve year by year. However, this particular wine has a bit of history. As I mentioned in the earlier installment, Chile is the only place in the world where original ungrafted (never attacked by phylloxera) European vines grow. Root:1 is a product of these original "old vines." If you're a fan of fruitier -- rather than more tannic -- cabernets, you'll really enjoy the Root:1. The nose of the wine is dominated by blackberries a little vanilla. The flavor of the wine is cherries combined with berries, berries, and more berries. There are some very soft tannins as you taste it -- they become much more pronounced on the finish, which is gentle, slightly coffee-flavored and dry. The wine is rich, and would stand up nicely to sirloins, grilled mushrooms, and rich sauces of just about any type. It reminds me more of a zinfandel or a blend than a straight cab. While this is a very good wine now for $10-14, with aging of six months or a year, the berries and tannins should balance nicely, and more complex flavors will undoubtedly come forward as it becomes more "cabby."

Mirassou 2005 Riesling -- Under most circumstances, there's no way in tarnation you'd want to cellar a white. Most whites are made to be drunk young – usually within a year of release. The basic idea for most whites: buy, chill, open, serve, repeat. However, there are a couple of varietals you can cellar if you wish, and, in some cases, you'll end up with a superior product. This offering from Mirassou is case in point. This is a wine that was probably released a little too early for its own good -- but vintners that mass produce wine generally don’t worry about finding the perfect release date for a wine. They are on a schedule, after all. The typical sweet fruit nose of a Riesling isn't as pronounced with this particular vintage. The taste is a little sharp on the tongue, almost spicy -- and a little dry for a "regular" Riesling (not to be confused with a "dry Riesling"-- which is another animal altogether, and we’ll touch on that next week). The finish is much more similar to a gewürztraminer -- again, a little spicy, although there are some nice pineapple undertones. The fruit, though, doesn't stand up as much as it should. If you put this one away for a year (after buying a few at $7-8), the spicy nature will surely mellow, and the fruit will become more pronounced, leaving you with an excellent wine to pair with either fruity desserts (apple pie would be outstanding) or spicy food like Thai.

Until next time, drink no wine before its time…unless of course you do.