Showing posts with label supertuscan. Show all posts
Showing posts with label supertuscan. Show all posts

Friday, November 20, 2015

Naked Vine One-Hitter: Avignonesi, a Bordeaux lost in Tuscany

Ah, Tuscany -- how we love you. Home of all those wonderful Sangiovese grapes which get turned into Chianti and Vino Nobile di Montepulciano and rich goodies like Super Tuscan wines.

The Super Tuscans, are not made according to the traditional standards of Tuscany. Instead, these wines generally have Sangiovese blended with other grape varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot -- usually yielding wines that are bigger and richer than many of their Italian counterparts.

So what happens when a winemaker in Montepulciano decides, "Oh, heck with it -- I've got all these high-quality Bordeaux-blend grapes...let's make a high-end wine from that juice and commit the heresy of including zero Sangiovese in the mix."

The answer, or at least one of them, is the Avignonesi Desiderio Cortona DOC Merlot 2011. This Bordeaux blend of 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet is a big, burly bottle of red, clocking in at 14.5% alcohol. It's aged for 18 months in barriques, which are the small barrels traditionally used to age Bordeaux.

Thanks to Sean at Colangelo, I had the opportunity to try a sample of this high end (around $60) Italian red.

Not a wine for the faint of heart -- this merlot is toothstainingly rich and thick. I'd say it's probably as big an "Old World" wine as I've come across any time recently. That said, the Desiderio starts with a nose that's surprisingly light. I caught the cherry notes that I usually find accompanying a Sangiovese-based wine, which is probably at least some function of the teroir. I also found some darker blackcurrant scents followed by a whiff of chocolate.

Any illusions that the light nose might yield subtle flavors disappear quickly. On the palate. stuff gets going right away with the gobs of big, rich dark fruit that you'd expect in a merlot, but alongside a big blast of smoky tannin. The mouthfeel is big, tannic, and drying. The finish lingers long and dry, with plenty of plum and smoke. I found the Desiderio to be little rough around the edges, so you might want to consider laying it down for a bit. If you crack it now, decant it for a good long while, and serve it next to some hearty, preferably grilled, fare or big sauces to take the edge off. Many lamb preparations would be a good match here.

Tuesday, September 01, 2015

Naked Vine One-Hitter: Le Volte Dell’Ornellaia – Breezy Bolgheri makes a Svelte Supertuscan

The last jaunt the Sweet Partner in Crime and I made to California, we spent most of our time in the Sonoma Coast AVA. That close to the Pacific, the climate and soil yielded wines that were quite different from the Sonoma offerings to which we’d been accustomed. The coastal wines had, in general, more earthiness, less pronounced fruit, and a little rough-around-the-edges character that we really liked.

Fast forward to an offer I received to try an Italian coastal version of what would commonly be called a Supertuscan wine. To refresh your memory, the categorization of Supertuscan wines came about in Italy because some winemakers in Tuscany wanted to make wines above the quality of simple table wine, but didn’t want to follow the strict guidelines required to label the wines as Chianti or Brunello di Montalcino.

These blends usually included Sangiovese, but they often had other grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Syrah – leading to a bigger, fruitier product which found much favor Stateside. These wines are usually labeled “IGT” (short for Indicazione Geografica Tipica), rather than the inexpensive vin di tavola.



The bottle I received, the Le Volte dell’Ornellaia 2013 Toscana IGT, falls into that category – but looked to be a new experience for me because the Ornellaia estate is near the town of Bolgheri, which faces the Tyrrhenian Sea from the hills. The soil there sounds much like the soil in parts of Oregon – part volcanic, part marine sedimentary, and part alluvial – so I was quite interested to see how this wine would differ from the Supertuscan blends grown further inland in the Chianti or Orvieto regions.

This wine, a blend of 50% Merlot, 30% Sangiovese, and 20% Cabernet, pours somewhat lighter than many of the thicker IGT blends. Cool weather and coastal wines tend to be lighter in body than their warmer climate, inland counterparts. No surprise there. The nose is quite pretty – violets and some light stone fruit. The first sip, as the SPinC put it, is “straight-up Sangiovese” – light bodied cherries and chalk. Then things…changed.

The sensation was like someone fed the wine a Super Mario power-up mushroom halfway through the mouthful. Suddenly, I felt I had an eyedropper of dark fruits and tannin squeezed onto the back of my tongue. Imagine a wine with the eventual punch of a big California merlot, but without the initial fruitbombiness.

I thought, at first, this particular note may have been because I hadn’t decanted the wine long enough. Even a couple of hours later, I still got the same pleasantly peculiar perception.

For dinner that night, I’d grilled up some lamb loin chops with a side of grilled okra from our CSA share, some quinoa, and tzatziki sauce on the side. It’s definitely a meat-loving wine. It went fantastically with the lamb. I think it would certainly need to accompany richer fare – it would probably be too big for many chicken or pasta dishes, unless you had a good ragu over top.

I definitely enjoyed this wine. I thought it was an interesting twist on the often over-fruited Supertuscans – and I’ll certainly be looking for some other coastal Tuscan versions.

The Le Volte retails for around $30.


(Thanks to Claire at Colangelo for the offer.)

Monday, October 27, 2014

A Side-by-Side of Super Tuscan and a Return of the Heavy Hitter

Fall! Air cooling a bit, leaves turning, and the menus around Vine HQ shifting from the scrumptious salads, soups, and lighter fare which the Sweet Partner in Crime regularly cobbles together during the warmer months. Autumn and winter cooking is my culinary wheelhouse. Casseroles, stews, rich pastas and other stick-to-your-ribs offerings give me flashbacks to my bachelor days when I’d whip up a big batch of something to nosh on for the entire week. (Of course, it was mid-July when I was making those dishes back then, but I digress...)

Fall also means bigger wines, so as I amble down the Italian aisle, my eyes start to drift over to the section often simply labeled “Other Italian Reds.” Wine stores use this section to stash Italian bottles that don’t fit the traditional Italian designations. They can be blends of grapes from across a region, or even across the country. Many will be labeled “vino da tavola.” This translates as “table wine,” as you might guess – and they’re usually light, inoffensive, and forgettable. In contrast, the bottles I go for are have “IGT” on the label. An IGT designation indicates that a wine is of high quality, but does not adhere to the winemaking guidelines of the region.

The most well-known IGT wines began appearing in the 1970’s in Tuscany. These wines became known as “Super Tuscans.” To illustrate, wines made in the Tuscan region of Chianti must be made from 75% or more Sangiovese juice to be labeled “Chianti.” IGT winemakers used grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot to create bigger, fuller -- some traditionalists would argue “Americanized” – wines. Many of these Super Tuscan wines are made of a majority of grapes other than Sangiovese and command high prices. Prior to the creation of the IGT classification in 1992, any wine with less than 75% Sangiovese could only be labeled vino da tavola, regardless of quality or price range.

Super Tuscan reds were all the rage in the 90’s and 00’s, but I haven’t heard that term nearly as much in recent days. My guess is that the name “Super Tuscan” was seen as a bit faddish (much like “Meritage” was in California around that time), so wine companies eventually backed away from using that as a primary marketing term. I personally still use the name, since I like imagining Wile E. Coyote saying “Soooper Tuscan…” 

In any case, I received a pair of Super Tuscan wines recently from Colangelo (Thanks, Maggie!) with compositions that don’t resemble Chianti in the slightest. I thought the two demonstrated a very interesting contrast.

Luce Della Vite 2001 “Lucente” IGT – Lucente is the “second label” wine from Luce Della Vite. The “first label” wine, called “Luce,” is the first blend of Sangiovese and Merlot ever constructed in the commune of Montalcino. This wine, emerging from the partnership of well-known winemakers Robert Mondavi (now deceased) and Vittorio Frescobaldi, retails for close to $100. “Lucente” is the “little brother” wine, which goes for $20-25. For a little brother, Lucente shows some muscle. This blend of 75% Merlot and 25% Sangiovese comes on strong with big fruit, strong tannin, and high acid levels. That said, as powerful as it is, no sensation is really overwhelming. If you’ve got big foods, it’s got something for every occasion. You need some tannin for your eggplant parmesan? Done. Need some acid to go with that big tomato sauce? Check. Something dark and fruity for evening consumption? Gotcha. I had quite a bit of leftover tenderloin from the Barolo experiment, so we made steak sandwiches piled high with caramelized onions and sautéed mushrooms, which made for an absolutely delicious pairing. I think the Lucente is an exceptional value for the price range.

Tenuta Frescobaldi Castiglioni 2011 Toscana IGT – The Tenuta stands in contrast to the Lucente. The Lucente, as big and round as it was, still tasted like an Italian wine to me. On the other hand, if I’d been blindfolded, I easily could have thought the Tenuta might have been a California red blend with its big, dark, Cabernet-ish fruit. This makeup is 50% Cabernet Sauvignon, 30% Merlot, and 15% Cabernet Franc. Sangiovese comprises a mere 5% of this wine. Even after decanting, the fruit on this wine overwhelmed the acid and minerality found in many Tuscan wines. We had it both with minestrone and as a side-by-side with the Lucente and the aforementioned steak sandwiches and it was just OK. Don’t get me wrong – it’s a decent wine, but at $25 – if I wanted a fruity Italian wine, I could find a similar-in-quality Barbera for ten bucks less.

Along with the pair of Tuscan tasties, tucked away in the package was a bottle of Perticaia 2009 Sagrantino di Montefalco, which retails for around $50. I wrote about the Sagrantino varietal about a year ago. This powerful red wine, which I dubbed “The Italian Heavy Hitter,” has the highest concentration of polyphenols – the compounds that make red wine so good for you – of any grape in the world. It also stains teeth more than any other red wine I’ve come across. Of the bottles I tried back then, the Perticaia was my clear favorite of the three. The 2009 vintage is very much along the lines of the 2007 I reviewed previously. While big and tannic, it had enough balance to make it drinkable, and the finish of spices and berries was very pleasant. I’m happy to report that the 2009 is very similar to the 2007 – which means that it’s worth the price for a special occasion. We also discovered a fabulous food pairing for the Perticaia: the humble pot roast.

If you want a funky twist for your next fall or winter dinner party, dust off your best pot roast recipe. Get your mom to divulge her secret recipe, or get your grandfather to divulge that twist that he brought over from the Old Country. Maybe you love a recipe that you found in a $1.99 slow cooker cookbook when you were in college. Find a recipe you can embrace. Serve it over rice, over noodles, over artisanal gluten-free amaranth shavings – whatever floats your boat. Before you start the roast, decant this wine. It needs a lot of air. When your roast is ready, plate it up, pass the platter and this bottle around your table of thankful friends, and enjoy your comfort food-laden bliss. It’s eyes-roll-back-in-your-head good.

Tuesday, December 03, 2013

Naked Vine One-Hitter: More Morellino, please…

Wine grapes can be like sandwiches.

A sandwich, by any other name, is a sub…or a hoagie…or a grinder…or a torpedo…depending on where you’re placing your order. Similarly, wine grapes can have regional monikers. Sangiovese, one of the best known Italian wine grapes, has 50+ regionally derived names.

One of these Sangiovesian synonyms is starting to make its way to the States in greater quantities – Morellino, from Maremma – a coastal region of southwestern Tuscany next to the Tyrrhenian Sea. The genesis of the name “Morellino,” which translates as “Little Dark One” may come from the brown color of the Morelli horse, uniquely of Tuscany; or it may come from the flavor of the Morello cherry, which mirrors many of the flavors in Sangiovese.

Regardless, if you have the opportunity to try one of these (and I hope you will), think of it starting in terms of a Sangiovese-based wine. The climate in Maremma is somewhat warmer than in the more northern areas of Tuscany, such as Chianti. As such, the wines tend to be more fruit-forward and soft, in contrast to the angular flavors typically found in the northern wines. The warmer climate also allows some non-indigenous grapes like Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah to flourish. The original Supertuscan wines, which are Sangiovese blended with those non-indigenous varietals, came from Maremma.

Thanks to the good folks at Colangelo, who you may remember from my experiences with Sagrantino di Montefalco, I received a sample of the Tenuta dell’Ammiraglia “Pietraregia” 2010 Morellino di Scansano Riserva. To break down the name, “Tenuta dell’Ammiraglia” is the name of the estate. “Pietraregia” is the actual name of the blend. “Morellino” is the aforementioned grape, which comprises 85% of the blend, along with 10% Ciliegiolo (typically a blending grape), and 5% Syrah. “di Scansano” means “of Scansano” – the town in Maremma. Finally, “Riserva” means that the wine has been aged for a particular length of time, which is Tuscany means generally more than 27 months. (Whew.)

So, how does this Scansano scan? Pretty darned well, honestly.

I found a fragrant nose of fresh cut plums and sawdust. The body is substantial and full-flavored with big tart cherry (Morello!) flavors backed up by dark plums and cocoa. As promised, this is very smooth for a Sangiovese-based wine, which I attest to both the Maremman climate and the Syrah smoothing everything out. The finish is long and dusky, with a combination of bitter chocolate and more tart cherry. This is really nice wine if you like rich, Supertuscan-type flavors.

With big foods, it’s also a winner. Maremman cuisine is known to be rich, hearty, and often sauce-laden. With that in mind, I made one of my eggplant parmigianas to go alongside this, and it was simply a heavenly pairing.

This Morellino retails for $25, and I think it’s definitely a worthy bottle at that price point. Be on the lookout for this one from Marchesi de Frescobaldi, and others that will undoubtedly appear on the wine store shelves soon.

Oh, and happy birthday to my sister Annie, who has a milestone birthday today!

Thursday, November 04, 2010

TNV’s Guide to Wine and Cheese – Part II (hard cheese)

Last time, we looked at where cheese comes from and looked at a few soft cheeses. I thought we did a pretty decent job of reviewing the cheeses, but my Uncle Alan is a big fan of Brie de Meaux – which I panned. As he put it, “Grasshopper, you have learned much about the grape, however your understanding of the mysteries of God's other great gift is f’d up.”

He may be right, and he’s got free rein to put together his brie recommendations in this space. (Seriously.) Still, it takes different strokes to move the world, yes it does, and as I’ve always said, let your palate be your guide.

This time around, we’ll look at some hard cheeses. As we discussed last time, the basic process of cheesemaking is to allow milk to sour and curdle, allowing the solids to settle out into curds, leaving the liquid whey behind. The curds are then pressed into balls, blocks, or logs; the whey is drained off; and you’ve got cheese.

A cheesemaker will sometimes add a complex of enzymes called rennet to the curdling milk. Rennet can be found in the stomach of any mammal. It greatly speeds up the coagulation of the solids in milk, allowing the body to begin working on digesting the proteins and fats. The rennet added to cheese is normally harvested from the stomachs of kid goats or cow calves.

When rennet is added to a batch of curds and whey, the curds form more quickly and more tightly. The whey is then drained away and the curds are put into molds for pressing to extract more water. When the water is gone, the bacteria still in the cheese actually act as a preservative, allowing aging. As a cheese ages, the flavors gain complexity.

We looked at a range of cheeses from semi-firm to hard. Again, we tried to pair with wines that were suggested as “classic pairings.” For this tasting, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I invited our friend, The Hanging Chad, to assist us with our tastings. Our cheese board:

  • Mild cheddar (pairing: oaky California Chardonnay)
  • Sharp cheddar (pairing: young California Cabernet Sauvignon)
  • Gruyère (pairing: French extra dry sparkling wine)
  • Parmesan (pairing: Super Tuscan – blend of sangiovese and merlot)

Let’s get it started:

Cheddars: Not to be confused with the TGIFridays-esque restaurant chain – cheddar is one of the more ubitquitous cheeses. It was originally made in England in the town of…wait for it…Cheddar. Cheddar Cheese differs from many other forms of cheese because of the “cheddaring” process, in which the curd is kneaded with salt and then sliced into large blocks, which are left to age anywhere from a few weeks to a few years.

In general, the longer the aging, the sharper the Cheddar. Mild cheddar is usually only aged for a couple of months, while sharp cheddar can be aged for over a decade.

Do not confuse actual cheddar cheese with various “cheese foods” like Easy Cheese (“Fromage Facile” if you want to be hoity toity) labeled with the name. Cheddar cheese has a somewhat pungent flavor which gets amplified as the cheese ages. Cheddar cheese is normally either white or very pale yellow. Those bright yellow cheeses you see all have additives – usually annatto or paprika

Starting with the mild cheddar, which just tasted like…well…cheese, the addition of the chardonnay was a good one. The wine brought out the full flavor of the cheese, which includes some smokiness. The smokiness was mellowed with some cream and the fruit emerged in the wine. The two went well together. The cabernet was also a pretty good pairing. The flavors were certainly complementary, but in a more full way. The sparkling wine was just OK. As Chad said, “The sweet dullness of the cheese thumps through the bubbly, but doesn’t do much else.” As for the Super Tuscan – it tastes like one of those “wine/cheese balls” you can get. Not particularly interesting.

The sharp cheddar with the cabernet was a mixed bag among us. I really liked it. I thought it made the flavors meld pleasantly, while both Chad and the SPinC thought it was considerably worse than the mild cheddar and cabernet. The chardonnay simply made the cheese and wine go “flat.” It wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t much of anything else. The bubbly made a combination that was much too pungent. As for the Super Tuscan, it amplified everything. Or, as the Chad cribbed, “Too much tang in the ting tang, too much zing in the zing zang.”

Gruyère: Gruyère is a hard cheese made from cow’s milk. Gruyère originated in Switzerland. Interestingly, Swiss Gruyère is a solid cheese, while French Gruyère is governmentally mandated to have holes. (The cheese from Switzerland that traditionally has holes is Emmental.) After Gruyère is pressed, it’s brined and then ripened at room temperature from two months. It’s then cured for between 3-10 months. It’s often used in cooking, as its flavor typically amplifies flavors in foods without overpowering them. It does have a somewhat distinct “funk,” which adds an earthiness to food.

With the sparkling wine, the cheese gave up the noise and gave up the funk. The flavors all blended nicely. Or, as Chad so nicely put it: “It made a great cheese sauce in my mouth.” With both the Chardonnay and Cabernet, the experience wasn’t as good. We all thought the Chardonnay clashed badly. I noted that it was an “absolute waste of alcohol” to mix these two, and I thought that the cabernet forced the cheese to submissively go belly up on my palate. Similar comments came from Chad and the SPinC, but mine were funniest. With the Super Tuscan, we all agreed that it was ok but unspectacular. About as neutral a pairing as you could find.

Parmesan: Parmigiano-Reggiano is actually the name of this cheese, if you want to be most accurate. Parmesan is the French bastardization of the word, but has come to mean most Italian-style hard cheeses that are cooked rather than pressed. Cooked? When this cheese is made, once the rennet is added and the curds have dropped out, the temperature of the vat in which this occurs is raised to about 130 degrees, further speeding up the curdling process. The curds are then drained, heavily pressed, and put in a brine bath for about three weeks. After brining, the cheese is aged for 10-36 months before it is deemed ready for consumption…and we consumed it.

With the recommended Super Tuscan, we thought it was OK, but not fabulous The strong flavors in both meshed reasonably well, but it didn’t blow any of us away. With the Chardonnay, the SPinC simply said, “Clash. Ugh.” Chad and I concurred. The Cabernet was too sharp. Chad found it particularly problematic, saying that his mouth was on “dessicative fire.” The bubbly didn’t work, either. The flavors seemed to fight. Bottom line, it’s great with pasta or in various foods, and drizzled with balsamic vinegar it’s pretty good – but find another cheese for board purposes.

Next time, we conclude with the stinky cheeses.

Wednesday, February 17, 2010

Super Tuscan



"Wile E. Coyote, super genius! I like the way that rolls out...'Wile E. Coyote...soooper geeenyus'!"

I've never been able to hear someone talking about a "Super Tuscan" wine without thinking about the Road Runner's nemesis pulling down that windowshade before the train arrives. This has as much to do with being a member of the last generation properly exposed to the brilliance of Bugs Bunny cartoons on Saturday mornings. I'm sure there's a longitudinal study somewhere correlating the effects of a lack of childhood exposure to cartoon violence with the likelihood that said child will grow up to drive a minivan, own the Dora the Explorer box set for their 3.2 kids, and overprogram the hell out of their childrens' lives, so I'll embrace my old school Warner Brothers tightly, thank you very much.

OK...back to the matter at hand.

Super Tuscan. Yet another WineSpeak term that can make a novice wine drinker feel over his or her head -- like "full malo" or "highly extracted." This term for certain Italian reds was all the rage for a few years, and I think has died down just a tad, but I still hear it. Since I love me some Italian wine, I wanted to make sure that I actually knew what this meant, so as not to sound even more ridiculous that I usually do. So...to the research we go:

Let's take a little trip back to Italy, shall we? (Oh, twist my arm!) Not surprisingly, the Italians are pretty picky about their winemaking. They've been doing it arguably longer than anyone else in the world, and with time comes specificity. The Italians aren't quite as stringent about their classifications as their Gallic winemaking brethren -- but they've still got a few quirks.

All Italian wines are given a government designation. The ones we see most often in the US are "DOC" (Denominazione di Origine Controllata or "controlled origin denomination") and "DOCG (Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita -- "guaranteed")." "DOC" wines are produced under the specifications that are regionally dependent. "DOCG" is a higher level of classification -- these wines are tested and tasted by the regulatory agencies before being bottled. DOCG wines have a numbered seal around the neck of the bottle. Since 1996, any wine you see that's labeled "Chianti" with "DOC" or "DOCG" is going to be made up of 70% up to 10% of a local grape called Canaiolo and up to 20% of any other approved red grape variety such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot or Syrah. (Before that, white grapes Malvasia and Trebbiano were included in the mix.) Wines that didn't follow these specifications were known as VdT (Vin di Tavolo -- table wine) classified.

That changed in the 1940's when the Marchese Mario Incisa della Rocchetta settled in Tuscany. He wanted to raise grapes to make wine for himself and his wife, and he imported some Cabernet Sauvignon vines from Bordeaux to do just that. He blended the Cabernet with some native Sangiovese and, lo, Sassicaia, the die was cast. These wines began being distributed in the late 1960's, and in 1978 it won a competition of the world's best Cabernets. Through the 1970's and 80's, more and more wineries started seeing the possibilities and the "Super Tuscan" term was born. Winemakers experimented with different grapes, blends, and aging techniques. Many winemakers started producing prized vintages -- which were officially labeled "VdT" because of their refusal to follow tradition. Some wore their non-DOCG status as a badge of honor. The Italian authorities adopted an "If you can't beat 'em, join 'em" stance -- and created a fourth classification: IGT, which stands for Indicazione geografica tipica, meaning that the label may indicate where the wine is from -- but it's not a "traditional" blend. An IGT wine can be 100% Sangiovese or contain no Sangiovese at all -- once considered heresy. IGT wines are not limited to Tuscany, either. You can find these nontraditional blends sourced from all over Italy.

So, what does all this mean for us? Not to put too fine a point on it -- these are Italian-based wines that are produced for the "New World" palate. There's an emphasis on fruit-forwardness and a stronger level of tannin than many traditional Italian wines. There's usually a little less minerality. Like most Italian wines, they're really best with food -- especially rich foods. Many winemakers with a little flair (or some nontraditional terroir) try to make IGT wines as their top-ends. As for the price, well -- they can range from under $10 up into the hundreds. We looked at wines at a couple of different price points. For instance:

Fanti Sant'Antimo 2006 Rosso -- Super Tuscan blend. Fascinating nose. My first sniff got me something in the neighborhood of spice cake. There's some cherry that comes through, but the smells of baking are right there. Medium weight initially on the palate, but it almost feels like it "thickens" into a lasting flavor. Dark fruits and some of that Sangiovese "chalk." The finish lingers....and I do mean lingers with caramel and really nicely balanced tannins. Really looked forward to trying this with a shrimp & calamari fra diavola, since I figured the weight would handle all the flavors. It didn't let me down. It made a scrumptious pairing, since the extra fruit balanced out the spice in the sauce. ($15)

I had a bottle of the Tenuta Dell Ornellaia "Le Volte" 2006 at around $28 and the Ruffino 2007 Fonte al Sole Toscana at around $10. The former is 50% Sangiovese, 40% Merlot and 10% Cabernet Sauvignon, and the latter is a 60/40 Cab/Sangiovese blend. The SPinC got inspired and decided to put together a parmesan-crusted rack of lamb next to a side of zucchini sautéed w/mint, parsley & basil. We opened them side by side to get a contrast between price points and blends.

The Le Volte had a lighter but more complex nose than the Ruffino. The Ruffino smelled much more like a cabernet, while the Le Volte had more of that baking-spicy nose that I experienced with the Fanti. The Le Volte was medium bodied and subtly flavored. A really nice balance between the minerality and the depth of fruit. The finish was almost coffee-ish, which isn't something I've run into with many Italian wines. The Ruffino drank like a decent cabernet. In fact, if not for that little bit of sangiovese minerality, it could have passed as a cab.

As we figured, it was an interesting contrast. The Ruffino was a pleasant surprise with the lamb. The flavors stood up to the lamb and to everything else on the table. This type of flavor experience different greatly with the Le Volte. Rather than standing up to the lamb and asserting itself, the flavors here worked alongside the richness of lamb to produce a delicious, layered experience. If nuance is what you're after, the LeVolte was the obvious choice for a pairing like this -- when we could just let the lamb melt and ponder every sip. However, in a noisier setting -- such as if this were a big dinner party, I'd have no reservations of buying several bottles of the Ruffino (and maybe putting it in pitchers around the table).

We had another real surprise with our usual end-of-evening chocolate -- we had two bite brownies this evening. The Ruffino was not only the the superior wine, but it was downright delicious. The sweetness of the brownies didn’t get dented at all by the wine -- instead, the cabernet hopped right up and complemented the flavors. I really enjoyed this as a dessert offering.

Like Wile E., I am a big fan of experimentation, so I've come to really enjoy Super Tuscans. One of the hardest sells I have for people who are new to Italian wines is that they can be a little difficult to approach when poured on their own. With food, they're easy. The inexpensive Super Tuscans make excellent bridge wines. As for the more expensive ones -- these Italian cuvees give winemakers in Italy a chance to show off a bit with their blending skills. They're usually going to be really textured, interesting wines -- so add them to your list to splurge on from time to time.




Sunday, September 14, 2008

Stateside

Greetings, Vine denizens! I'm tan, rested, and ready to roll again after a much-needed vacation. I'm fresh from floating in the Mediterranean with the Sweet Partner in Crime on our first cruise. We did plenty of research to find a ship and itinerary that would be fun, interesting, and wouldn't have hourly updates about the hairy leg contest on the Lido deck. (We ended up going with the Celebrity Summit.)

This vacation was about relaxation, pampering, and -- of course -- food and wine. I could easily wax poetic about the four course meals in the Summit's main dining room, or the six-courser that we had in the exceptional SS Normandie Restaurant one evening, but I'll focus on our gustatory experiences off-ship.


The difference in attitude towards eating and drinking between the parts of Europe we visited and the US was stunning. Honestly, it's been quite jarring to readjust after only a couple of weeks. We quickly got used to this relaxed, easygoing attitude towards dining. Most restaurants don't open until noon at the earliest for lunch and often 8:00 or later for dinner. Servers almost seem offended if you ask for the check before you've had time to drink your coffee after dessert. What's the rush?

Since we weren't on this schedule, we found ourselves in a couple of cafes before opening. No worries. The waiter would explain, "The kitchen's not open for another 25 minutes, but feel free to have a seat." Drinks were fetched, and we settled in for the next couple of hours. Multiple courses and flavors were the rule rather than the exception. Portions were considerably smaller, but I never felt underfed. And, of course, there's the wine.

In fact, there's almost always wine. What the US Government defines as "binge drinking," most Italians define as "lunch."


During our entire jaunt, I can't think of a non-breakfast meal where there wasn't at least some kind of wine on the table. Most placesetting are pre-set for meals with wine glasses (but not water glasses, we discovered). For instance, in Barcelona, I ordered cava to go with our delicious tapas at a fantastic little place called El Xampanyet. The server ducked into the cooler, pulled out a one liter bottle of house cava, opened it, and left it on the table. Heaven! No one bats an eye at a wine order with lunch. If I'd tried that in Cincy, I'd expect a comment like "Starting early, aren't you?"

Maybe I was simply being a tourist and didn't have to head back to work afterwards -- but somehow Europeans manage to maintain a stable economy while taking six weeks of vacation a year and drinking decent house wine at most every meal. I've heard people talk about how different the wine is in Europe, but their wine's made much the same way there as here. The alcohol content is similar, although the overall flavor of the house wines tend to be slightly lighter. Yet, I can't ever remember getting tipsy while enjoying my mealtime wine. Perhaps there's a lesson here somewhere...

I've said consistently that people historically make wine to complement whatever it is that they're eating locally. We were very excited about trying "indigenous cuisine" in the various ports of call. Of course, we also wanted to see what they were pouring alongside! So, what did we learn?

Italy -- We started the trip in Venice and docked in Naples, Civitavecchia, and Livorno during the second week of the cruise. We eschewed sightseeing trips from the latter two ports to Rome and Florence for wine tasting excursions to small towns in Lazio and Tuscany. Trying to generalize "Italian cuisine" is almost impossible, but "Italian coastal cuisine" has some commonalities. Lots of fresh fish, obviously, and pastas often contain or are flavored with shellfish or anchovies. The white wines tended to be very light and crisp and the reds had enough body and tannin to cut through the acidity of tomatoes, the minerality of shellfish or the oilyness of black sea bass. A red wine that reminded us of several we had over there was Falesco "Vitiano" 2005 Cabernet-Merlot-Sangiovese ($10) After we came home, I tried to emulate a pasta I had over there -- mushrooms, capers, and anchovies in a light red sauce. Cut through and complemented all of those flavors really well.

Croatia -- Our first port of call was Dubrovnik, an absolutely beautiful city nestled on a small peninsula. Interesting fact -- Dubrovnik was one of the most progressive cities in Europe in the treatment of Jews over the last 600 years. Foodwise, Dubrovnik is famous for shellfish, especially oysters and mussels. We sampled both at a restaurant called "Moby Dick," which, for my readers in Louisville, should raise a smile. It also gets very hot during the summer there, so the wines both serve as a cooling agent and a complement to anything you'd find on a raw bar. Try Toljanic 2006 Zlahtina at around $12 for an interesting change from muscadet.

Greece -- Athens and Santorini were our ports of call in Greece. Athens was a big city made up of ugly concrete apartment buildings surrounding incredible ancient sites. Santorini Island was once a volcano that exploded to form a beautiful "c"-shaped lagoon. We were familiar with "standard" Greek foods. We've chowed down at some very good local Greek places on dolmathakias, souvlaki, gyros, and so on. However, fish wasn't typically on the menu stateside, which is quite the contrast from our experience over there. Both Athens and Santorini had plenty of variety when it came to fish, shellfish, and mollusks for consumption. On the wine front, Greece is known for Vinsanto, a sweet dessert wine, and for bone dry, minerally whites that make wonderful aperitifs or go very nicely with the aforementioned sea life. Santorini itself is home to a very productive wine region. Interestingly, they grow grapes low to the ground because of the oppressive summer heat. (Also interesting was the Santorini Wine Museum -- off the scale on the Unintentional Comedy Meter.) Look for the crisp, slightly fruity Sigalas 2007 Santorini at around $15 if you want a nice example. I also discovered that I had a taste for both Ouzo and Metaxa, but that's a story for another time.

France -- We made one stop along the French Riviera. We tendered in Villefranche-sur-Mer, a small (but pretty daggone affluent) community between Nice and Monaco. The Riviera is exactly what you'd expect -- strikingly beautiful. This part of the Riviera is in the Provence region.Provençal cuisine is known for using lots of fresh vegetables (which led to a very "American" moment for me when I asked the SPinC, "So, what does Niçoise mean?" while she was relishing one of these salads...in Nice). The region is also known for wonderful seafood, with bouillabaisse as the local specialty. In the wine world, Provence immediately brings one thing to mind -- rosé. 50% of French rosé comes from this region -- the perfect pairing for both salads and fish. Domaine Houchart 2007 Cotes du Provence Rosé is a nice example at around $10.

Spain -- Our last stop on the trip was a couple of days in Barcelona before we caught our flight home. The space I have here is completely inadequate to do Barcelona and all of its wonders justice. (Anyone, religious or not, who can step into La Sagrada Familia without an overwhelming sense of awe is utterly dead inside.) The city is pleasure, decadence, and inspiration rolled into a one huge, wonderful package. Barcelonan cuisine also follows this "delicious mishmash." Paella and tapas. Ham, fish, poultry, bread, fruit and on and on. What wine goes with everything? As I've mentioned time and time again -- sparkling wine. Cava country is Penedès, just southwest of Barcelona. Longtime readers know what a sucker I am for good cava, so go pick up a bottle of Gramona 2005 Gran Cuvee at around $15, pair it with anything, and thank me later...

As a side note, we didn't experience any of the animosity that Europeans, especially the French, allegedly hold towards folks from the US. Most people we met spoke at least some English, and they weren't shy about using it, which was important -- since neither of us are fluent in anything other than our native language (unless you count the Eastern Kentuckian dialect I lapse into from time to time...). I try to imagine my reaction if someone came up to me and started asking me questions in Greek. The secret to our success, in my opinion? We took the time to learn a dozen or so useful words or phrases in the language of wherever we went. Saying "Govorim malo Hrvatski. Govorite Engleski?" in Dubrovnik went a long way in smoothing out international relations.

There will be other stories from this trip to weave as the weeks go on-- but I now prepare to face the unenviable task of readying myself to go back to work. Eek! Also, for Cincinnati metro readers or avid road trippers, make sure that you have Wine Over Water on your social calendar for the evening of Saturday, September 20th. It's going to be a great time, guaranteed...


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