Greetings, Cincinnati!

Howdy!

Hello to all my new friends from Cincinnati.Com! I'm Mike Rosenberg, Sommelier for the Common Man, and I'll be your host, guide, and regular cause for eye-rolling here at The Naked Vine.

I've been pecking away at this little corner of the web since a fateful 2006 conversation at the Beer Sellar where my friend Scott made the offhand comment, "You know, it's easy to find a good $50 bottle of wine. I want to know where to find a good $10 bottle of wine."

The recovering English major side of me kicked in, and The Naked Vine was born. I've been fortunate enough to land myself in a variety of print and online forums -- but like the stuff often sloshing around my glass, it's only now that I've managed to swirl my way home. I'm so pleased to be able to share my adventures with my fellow Cincinnati-area wine lovers.

My goal is simple and I state it right up there in the tagline: Wine Advice for the Rest of Us. If you're looking for 100 point scales and tasting notes playing up the glories of "forest floor," "saddle leather," and "cold steel" -- you're in the wrong place. What you will find are easy to understand reviews of wines and useful bits of wine knowledge. Food and I go way back, so I always try to provide some good culinary pairings. Heck, I'll even throw in a recipe or two from time to time.

Basically, my hope is that after reading the Vine, you'll be able to stroll confidently down the aisle of the wine store of your choice, peruse a good restaurant's wine list, or belly up at your favorite watering hole and say with a grin, "I want THAT."

If you're new to wine, I recommend that you start with my Wine School series. (You obviously want to find more recent vintages of those wines if you taste them.) It'll give you a basic background on the major wine grapes and how to approach them. If there are certain wines that you're looking for, check out my tasting index. If you have wine-related questions, comments, or suggestions for what you'd like to see -- please feel free to shoot me an email. I'd also invite you to "like" the Naked Vine on Facebook or follow me at @thenakedvine on Twitter.

I look forward to having you along with me for the good times on this continuing journey. Grab a glass and come along...

Cheers!

Seasons 52 Fresh Grill -- Slick, Tasty, and Lean

Deep in the throes of the ongoing kitchen remodel, I didn’t expect to find myself tucking away deliciously seasoned strip steak and quail, but there I was last Tuesday. I received a fortuitous invite to a “media wine dinner” at Seasons 52, a soon-to-be-opened restaurant on Edwards Road just across the street from Rookwood Commons. Seasons 52 is an upscale casual dining restaurant based around a “fresh grill and wine bar” concept. I was joined by a collection of other friendly media types from the area, including a TV producer, a couple of Enquirer editors, and Nedra – better known as local blogger “Adventure Mom.” 

We had a quick tour of the contemporarily decorated restaurant before the meal began. Seasons 52’s distinguishing architectural feature is the stone split-face mosaic walls which closely resembled one area of our kitchen-to-be. The restaurant had lots of mahogany, warm lighting, and high ceilings throughout. The patio (which will look much better when it doesn’t open onto a construction site) and several private dining rooms available for meetings, receptions, etc.

The open kitchen was interesting to me because of what wasn’t there. There’s no fryer. I learned no butter is used in the preparations. The hook of Seasons 52 is that no item on the menu, including desserts, contains more than 475 calories. The menu changes seasonally and leans heavily on mesquite grilling, brick oven cooking, and caramelizing. I asked about the portion sizes at one point. Most entrees apparently run 6-8 ounces of protein plus a vegetable and a starch. I wondered how an 11 oz. steak could be that calorically miniscule. The answer, apparently, is a particularly lean stock of Piedmontese bovine.

Would you buy a wine pairing from this man?
(Short answer: Yes.)

Our tour ended at the long piano bar where different live musicians play 7 days a week. Our pianist for the evening played an eclectic mix. (I’ll admit I’ve never heard Weezer’s “Sweater Song” done quite that way.) At the bar, we met George Miliotes, our emcee for the evening. The affable Miliotes (one of the world’s 180 Master Sommeliers, apparently) started us with a glass of Chartogne-Taillet Champagne to go alongside samples of a pair of appetizer flatbreads – one an artichoke and goat cheese, the other chipotle shrimp with roasted poblanos and feta. I enjoyed both as Miliotes gave us some background on the restaurant and introed the wine list, which includes 65 wines available by the glass – any of which are also available as a 1 oz. sample for experimentation purposes.

After a few minutes of get-to-know-you and bubbly, we adjourned to our table where we met Clifford Pleau, Season 52’s executive chef. He and Miliotes have worked together for the last 20 years, as some of their banter indicated. We wasted little time getting to the meal itself.

We started with a crab and avocado amuse bouche – which reminded me of a crab quesadilla, minus the tortilla. A Vinho Verde alongside served as a nicely crisp aperitif.

From there came a cedar plank roasted salmon filet with a grilled sea scallop skewered on a stalk of lemongrass. The salmon was fresh, moist, and flavorful. The scallop was divine. The wine pairing was a medium-oak Central Coast California chardonnay, which played off the seafood and the grill char.

Cedar plank salmon.

Next up, the salad course. The salad, comprised of organic field greens, grilled mushrooms, toasted pistachios, and truffle dressing was served (as are most of their salads) in plastic tubes and shaken out on the plates to present more aromatics from the dressing. Truffles. Yum. I wouldn’t have thought Carneros pinot noir with a salad course ordinarily, but with truffles? Why the heck not!

From there, we had goat cheese ravioli, roasted garlic, and shredded basil in an organic tomato broth. My ravioli might have been a bit undercooked, as it had soaked up much of the broth by the time the plate arrived and was still a little bit dry. Still very flavorful. The wine pairing here was a Cabernet Franc from Bordeaux. It was a very solid choice, but I would have leaned towards a light Italian red as is my usual preference with such flavors.

The “main” course was a mixed grill of Piedmontese strip steak and Manchester Farms quail, mashed sweet potatoes, and red wine sauce. For me, this was the highlight of the meal. The strip steak was done a delicious medium rare and had no fat that I could see. The quail took a little surgery to get at the tender, scrumptiously seasoned meat, but it was worth it. We had two wine pairings here – a Cabernet blend from South Africa, which was quite tasty, and a Spanish Garnacha, which was full and almost creamy. The Garnacha was an especially enjoyable pairing.

We finished up with “mini indulgences.” These are small desserts served in square “cordial style” glasses. At the end of a big meal like that, however, I usually don’t want more than a few bites of something sweet. I went with the key lime pie. Other options included carrot cake, pecan pie, rocky road, chocolate peanut butter mousse and various others. The dessert wine, a luscious German Riesling Auslese, was dee-lish.

The "mini-indulgences"

Now, I fully understand our little media gaggle was getting a special preview of this establishment, so I expected everything to be really good. It was. For this type of restaurant, I would heartily endorse it for the flavors alone. However, I had one major unanswered question –cost. The restaurant website (http://www.seasons52.com) lists the complete food and wine menu without prices. I’m normally of the “if there’s no price listed, you don’t want to know” school.  Kelly McMillan, field manager of the Cincinnati location, was happy to provide the local menu.

You know what? It ain’t overly painful. Wines by the glass range from $6.50 to $18. (The most expensive we had was the Champagne, which would have been $14.) The flatbreads were $8-10 for a generous size. Small salads run $6-9, while entrée salads were $12-16. The most expensive item on the menu was a bone-in strip steak at $28. The “mini indulgences” are $2.50 each. Not cheap, but less expensive than I expected.

The Cincinnati location opens today, Monday, February 4. I’d say it’s certainly worth a try if you’re a fan of restaurants like P.F. Chang’s, J.Alexanders, and other upscale casual options.

For a different (and more photographic!) view of the evening, here's Adventure Mom's review.

[Seasons 52 is part of the Darden group of restaurants, which also includes the Capital Grille, Bahama Breeze, LongHorn, the Yard House, Eddie V’s, Olive Garden, and (believe it or not) Red Lobster.]

The Alphabet Soup Project -- "M" is for "Meatless" (Wine pairings for vegetarians)

Pumbaa: “Hey, kid, what's eatin' ya?”

Timon: “Nothin'. He's on top of the food chain!”

-The Lion King

Astute observers of the Vine know that I love me some meat. Well, I love most food in general, but I'm not sure that I could ever be a vegetarian. I tried removing animals from the ol' diet during a brief, dark once-upon-a-time down Florida way, but it didn't take. I've got too much of the "how do you know you don't like it if you've never even tried it" hardwired into my palate, I guess.

I try my best to include potential food pairings with my reviews – pairings which often involve some suggestion of a meat dish. I do realize not everyone shares my particular omnivorous eating pattern. There are lots of folks, like my friends opening Kitchen 452 in Cincinnati, who choose to be more kind to our web-footed friends (and their hoofed, finned, & clawed compatriots), sparing these critters a quick trip to Dinnersville.

One of the better dinner parties we've thrown here at Vine HQ involved an entirely meatless menu, so I've seen firsthand not only how much wine my vegetarian friends can throw down, but also how well vegetarian dishes go with well-paired wine.

In the interests of egalitarian dining, or if you’re considering doing some more meatless meals for health purposes or new year’s resolutions, here are some general wine recommendations to go with whatever meat substitute you’re planning to plate up for the evening.

All these recommendations should be viewed through the prism of one of the Vine’s universal truths: "People make wine to go with what they're eating.” For example, if you’re making an Italian-based recipe, Italian wine is your best bet. Tapas will work with Spanish wine. Also, if you’re making spicy curries or other Asian flavors, the classic pairings of Riesling and Gewurztraminer will likely be winners.

Tofu: The Swiss Army knife of vegetarian cooking, tofu is made by taking soy milk and adding a coagulant of some sort to curdle the milk. The resulting curds are then pressed into the blocks you see in the grocery store. The type of coagulant used determines the texture of the tofu, so combinations are often used. Acid-coagulated tofu creates softer, “silken” tofu while salts and/or  enzymes create a firmer texture.

As for what wine to pair with your tofu dish? There’s not an answer to that question. Tofu in and of itself barely has any flavor, as you probably know. It does, however, absorb the flavor of whatever else is in the pot, wok, skillet, or other cooking implement. Your wine pairing reflect the dominant flavor of the sauce. For Asian preparations, a dry Riesling or a very light red like a Beaujolais would be fine. For grilled tofu, especially if marinated, a fruity wine like a merlot would go well. For flavored tofu preparations like “soyrizo” or “tofurkey” use the corresponding pairing for the meat. I’d go with Rioja and either a pinot noir or a chardonnay, respectively, in those cases.

The same sort of pairing suggestions guide also works with tofu’s first cousin Tempeh, which is made from soybeans fermented and pressed into blocks. This has a much firmer texture and can be used for kabobs, broken up for a ground meat substitute in something like vegetarian chili, etc. It has a slightly nutty flavor, but is generally pretty neutral. 

Roasted Vegetables: When you roast almost anything, the heat causes the sugars in whatever you have in the oven to caramelize, bringing out the sweetness and deepening the flavors as the cooking process proceeds. Sweet potatoes, zucchini, squash, cauliflower, broccoli, tomatoes – you name it. Toss them in olive oil and sliding them into a 425˚ oven for an appropriate amount of time yields a scrumptious base for any number of dishes. Smoky, bright, and slightly sweet works well next to a chardonnay that’s got body and a little oakiness. California chardonnays make an excellent choice with almost any roasted vegetarian preparation, as do most white Burgundies other than Chablis. Chablis’ delicacy gets run over a bit by roasted flavors. In my kitchen, there are two major exceptions to the chardonnay rule, which are…

Eggplant and Mushrooms: Two of my favorite foods of all time. I use eggplant in any number of dishes – my favorites being eggplant parmesan where I grill the eggplant slices and a roasted eggplant and tomato dish served over couscous. Eggplant gets a very smoky, savory flavor when roasted or grilled. The chemical composition that can give eggplant a bitter flavor is actually countered nicely by tannic wine, so think big. For the Parmesan, I’ll break out a Barbera, or Super Tuscan Italian wine. For the roasted dish, I look to the Rhone region. If you’re feeling like splurging, roasted eggplant and Chateauneuf-de-Pape is a gorgeous side-by-side, but Cotes du Rhone works well, too. Young California cabernet is also a good match with almost any eggplant dish.

As for the tasty, tasty fungus – mushrooms add, unsurprisingly, an earthy flavor to any dish. On their own, whether grilled or sautéed, they’ll have a flavor that you want to keep far from almost any white wine. You want something with an earthy backbone, yet not too heavy. Either of the French “B’s” – Bordeaux or Burgundy – work well. I personally think grilled Portabella mushroom caps and an Oregon pinot is a little slice of heaven.

Quinoa – America is finally catching on to this wonderful, nutty-flavored South American grain, which is one of the best meat substitutes our there as far as nutritional content goes. Quinoa (pronounced KEE-nwah) has a complete spread of amino acids, lots of iron, and cooks faster than rice in most preparations. Often used as a side, much like brown rice would be, I find it’s also an excellent base for a Latin-flavored salad, tossed with bell peppers, black beans, lime juice, cilantro and such. The “regional” pairing works nicely here, so look for a red from South America. You can’t go wrong with either Malbec or Carmenere. And speaking of beans:

Beans, Chickpeas, and other Legumes – Ah, the musical fruit. Beans and their various cousins are also very high in protein, fiber, B-vitamins, and all sorts of other goodnesses. The basic pairing rule is “the darker the berry, the darker the juice.” White beans like cannellini and cranberry beans, as well as chickpeas, like to go next to lighter whites. Sauvignon blanc and Chablis are good choices. For lentils, peas and the like – go with dry rosé or lighter reds like Chianti and Beaujolais. With kidney beans, black beans, and other dark ones, go bold! Zinfandel and earthy French reds like Cotes du Rhone and Bandol will pair nicely.

Cooper’s Hawk Winery and Restaurant – A Model of (and based on) Consistency

I was invited to attend the recent grand opening of a Cooper’s Hawk Restaurant, an “upscale-casual” restaurant boasting a tasting room at each location – all the better to serve their house wines. The tasting room is just the start. The wines apparently have enough of a following that Cooper’s Hawk has a wine club – according to them, the largest of its kind.

Illinois-based Cooper’s Hawk currently has 10 locations – seven in the greater Chicago area, one in Indianapolis, one in Milwaukee, and their newest location in Columbus, Ohio. Locations in Cincinnati, Kansas City, and Tampa are scheduled to open during the next year.

Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to attend the opening – so I can’t attest to the quality of the food (although the menu looks fairly wide-ranging and interesting). But thanks to Jennifer at Wordsworth Communications, I was able to obtain a couple of Coopers Hawk samples and score an interview with Rob Warren, the winemaker.

Rob, a native of Port Hope, Ontario, got his start working in wineries both north of the border and in northern Virginia. In 2007, he met the CEO of Cooper’s Hawk, Tim McEnerny, at a trade show. “We just got to talking and really hit it off. He said he was looking for a winemaker and I interviewed for the position. Next thing you know, here we are!”

These...and 36 more!

Cooper’s Hawk has a very large catalog of wines. Their basic list of wines, including vinifera, fruit wines, and sweet wines, numbers about 40. Then there are the wines for the wine club. “We make 12 wines just for the club each year.” These wines tend to be lesser known varietals and blends, crafted especially for members who are usually looking for something a little different.

The blends seem to be where Cooper’s Hawk hangs its proverbial hat. “We try not to limit ourselves on the blends. Most wineries are limited to their own vineyards, or even their own region. I like finding combinations across terroir – like blending Washington and California grapes, for instance. We just do whatever we can come up with that we think will be awesome.”

According to Rob, the blends are the most popular wines in the catalog. “Among the reds, we do a blend of pinot noir, malbec, and barbera that people seem to like, as well as our cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, and zinfandel blend. Among the whites, our pinot grigio/riesling blend is a big hit.”

I asked Rob about the challenge of making wines for such a broad audience – a big wine club and a growing restaurant chain featuring his wines. “Our wines are made to be enjoyed right away, so I try to make something you can open, pour, and enjoy. I try to find a basic profile for a wine that I hope people will like. Once we know the profile we’re looking for, we can almost always match them up from year to year. Since we’re not limited by vintage dates or appellations, we have the flexibility to create consistent wines.”

Rob said that his real goal is to make wines that people enjoy enough that they’ll join the club. “Once they know they can get quality wine from us, we want them to join. They get discounts at the restaurant, and they can buy any of the 40 wines on the main list at a discount. We’ve got some other neat promotions for club members, too.”

Cooper’s Hawk sent along a couple of bottles, one white & one red, for me to try. Neither of them were the popular blends Rob mentioned earlier, so I may have to visit one of the restaurants to check them out in the future. My thoughts on the two bottles:

Cooper’s Hawk (NV) Gewurztraminer – Very aromatic. Lots of tropical fruit scents on the nose – especially pineapple and papaya. This wine is definitely modeled after a “new world” Gewurztraminer. Tthe full, thick body has a fruit-cocktailish flavor of pineapple, apple, and that specific flavor of lychee. Quite full bodied, the finish turns slightly bitter at the end after some sweeter papaya flavors. On its own, it was OK. With a spicy Thai-flavored chicken soup, it worked well. The thickness of the body kept the tropical flavors from being overrun by the spices. The wine would be a nice pairing with most foods that register on the Scoville scale.

Cooper’s Hawk (NV) Pinot Noir – I wouldn’t necessarily agree with the “pop and pour” sentiment of Rob’s here. I thought this wine needed some time to open – otherwise, it came across as almost watery. After about 45 minutes of air, the fruit started to open up a bit. Even so, it’s an extremely light pinot. There are cherries and some soft wood on the nose, followed up with a light cherry flavor on the body. That’s most of what I got. The finish was light, a little smoky, and soft. There are some tannins that emerge eventually. It has the basic flavor profile of a pinot, but it’s not complex by any stretch of the imagination.

Pricewise, the wines retail at the restaurant from $15 to 40. The pinot noir I tried retailed for $22 and the Gewurztraminer was $18. I think both are a bit high for what you get, although if I’d bought either of those in a restaurant at those prices, I’d think I was getting a real deal – considering what the markup usually is. The wine club prices are $18.99 for one bottle monthly or $35.99 for two. There’s also a shipping option, where members would receive either 3 or 6 bottles quarterly for $80 or $140 respectively.

For more information, restaurant menus, wine lists, and the like you can check out the Cooper’s Hawk website at http://www.coopershawkwinery.com 

The Dreaming Tree -- Wines from Dave Matthews

Let’s go drive ‘til the morning comes,

Watch the sunrise to fill our souls up.

Drink some wine ‘til we get drunk…

            -Dave Matthews, “Crush”

For the sake of full disclosure, I’ve never been an enormous fan of the Dave Matthews Band. I’ve always appreciated them, but they’re one of those bands that have always been on the periphery of my music collection. However, after a friend of mine forwarded me a press release announcing the release of Dave Matthews’ new “Dreaming Tree” series of wines, I got curious. I sent an email to Megan at Constellation Wines and lo and behold, there were samples to be had! While I may not be a fanboy, I’ll give big ups to anyone willing to let me try his wine.

I do, actually, have a tangential connection to Dave Matthews. Several jobs and a couple of lives ago, I found myself working at the University of Richmond (VA). I lasted less than a year there – working in residence life, riding herd over drunken, horny, segregated-sex college students wasn’t exactly my bag.

from http://www.dreamingtreewines.com

However, I was in Richmond right around the time the Dave Matthews Band (from just up the road in Charlottesville) was blowing up around the country. Not long after I moved to Richmond, the DMB was playing a show in Richmond just before the release of their second album – the now-ubiquitous “Crash.” More than one of my students told me, “Dude (yes, “Dude.”) – you gotta go to The Dave Show.” That’s the only way I ever heard him referred to in Richmond – “Dave.”

A small, fragrantly smoky venue in Richmond is probably the best way to experience the Dave Matthews Band live for the first time. As my musical tastes expanded, DMB joined a few other bands I liked in my mid-20’s as bands I’d hear from time to time and go, “Hmm…not bad” and then let it pass from my attention. Except for “Crash into Me” – which I heard once as a first-dance wedding song – which is just lyrically creepy if you think about it.

In any case, Dave Matthews’ first experience with winemaking was a property he bought in Charlottesville, Virginia he wanted to farm. “I started making wine and that process kind of enlightened me,” said Matthews. “Through a few different instances I met Steve, and that brought the possibility of making wine in a place that’s designed for making wine!”

“Steve” is Steve Reeder, head winemaker at Simi winery in Healdsburg in Sonoma County, the aforementioned well-designed place for wine. “From the first time I talked to him on the phone,” said Matthews, “I got the sense that he wanted to do something with me. Not because he thought I was a great winemaker, but because he was curious. I think that’s pretty bold and also pretty generous.” Matthews went to Sonoma to discuss life and winemaking with Reeder, and The Dreaming Tree (named after a song on his “Before These Crowded Streets” album) sprouted.

“I want to work in collaboration with Dave to make wines that are approachable, still food friendly, fun wines that are available for pretty much everyone to drink,” said Reeder. “I like to make wines for people to drink, not wines to be put in the cellar.” (This is only half true. Simi makes some cabernets in the $60-$100 range that I wouldn’t classify as everyday!) Matthews and Reeder collaborate on the composition of the wine in small batches. Reeder takes care of the heavy lifting in production, since he has Simi’s ample resources at his disposal.

The Dreaming Tree produces a chardonnay, a cabernet sauvignon, and a red blend called “Crush,” all from California grapes – a much better source than Charlottesville, to be sure. The information on their website stresses environmental sustainability in production and bottling, which is a nice plus. All three retail in the neighborhood of $15. So, how are they? Have a seat crosslegged ‘round the fire and read on:

The Dreaming Tree 2010 Central Coast Chardonnay – Sourced from grapes in Monterey and Santa Barbara counties, my note after the first sniff was “lemony!” I was pleasantly surprised with the balanced fruit and oak. There’s definitely a background toastiness to it, but it’s doesn’t overwhelm the flavor, which is the tendency of many newbie California winemakers playing with chardonnay for the first time. Solid flavors of lemons and apples on the palate. The finish is quite gentle with a hint of citrus and some lingering toasted oak. I thought this was a very pleasant bottle of white that paired nicely with some broiled salmon filets topped with sautéed fennel and a light curry sauce. The oak brought out a little more of the grill smoke flavor, but it was quite pleasant on a cool night.

The Dreaming Tree 2009 “Crush” North Coast Red Blend – The Crush is a 2/1 blend of Merlot and Zinfandel. While these wines are designed to be “open and drink,” this one certainly benefitted from a little time in air. At first slug, the flavor was a little “grapey” without much structure, like a very inexpensive merlot. However, some time in the glass with a few strong swirls pulled vanilla out of the nose. Once the wine opens up a bit, it’s got a very full flavor with strong blackberry and vanilla tastes. I thought it was just a bit too dry for a “quaffing by itself” wine. As it is, it would likely be good for gnawing on a plate of barbecue ribs. Unfortunately, that’s not what we had that evening and disappointingly, it wasn’t all that tasty with evening chocolate. Another recommended pairing from the website was “Spanish orange and onion salad,” but I have a hard time envisioning that.

The Dreaming Tree 2009 North Coast Cabernet Sauvignon – Made with grapes largely from Sonoma County, this was my favorite wine of the three. The nose is full of blackberries with a little bit of vanilla. When I took a sip, my first thought was “Bacon?” There’s a smoked meat flavor that I didn’t see coming at all. After a few days, it hit me where I’d run into that scent before. Dave Matthews is a native South African, and this smelled as much like a Pinotage (the pride of the Rainbow Nation) as any Cabernet I’ve tried. That bacony smokiness mellowed out quite a bit after a few minutes to something a little more balanced, although as the finish sat, there were still hints of that savory goodness at the end. Otherwise, lots of dark blackberry and cherry tastes with a finish that doesn’t start tannically at all, but quickly dries into smoke. This wine ends up being a mouth-coater of a cabernet. Like most wines with a South African flavor, this would be right at home next to a big hunk of something grilled. They recommend rack of lamb or lentil salad, both of which I could see without too much of a problem.

Matthews claims his wine philosophy is “If it tastes good to you, then it’s good wine,” which has been one of my standard lines at the tastings I have led for years. As Reeder so aptly put it, “Great minds drink alike.”

Massandra 1931 Ai-Danil Tokay...and Happy Birthday, Dad!

I could devote many column inches on the enormous impact my father has had on the fabric of so many people’s lives over the years (Google “John Rosenberg AppalRed” or “John Rosenberg civil rights lawyer” for a taste), but that’s for another venue. What’s the wine connection?

What do you get the man who doesn’t need anything? He’s happy, healthy, and still doing the work he loves. A milestone like an 80^th birthday deserves an appropriately celebratory gift. After some pondering and a little poking around online, I was able to locate (via Sotheby’s Wine – a New York offshoot of the London auction house) something appropriate. Ladies & Gentlemen, let me introduce:

Massandra 1931 Ai-Danil Tokay

The wineries in Massandra were built during the reign of Czar Nicholas II. During the process, wine caves containing thousands of bottles were constructed beneath the city. This “personal wine cellar” of the Czar contained tens of thousands of bottles. These caves survived the Russian Revolution, both World Wars, the fall of Communism, and Yakov Smirnoff. In 1990, about 13,000 of these bottles – never before available in the West – were put to auction. (Read more about the auction here: http://goo.gl/B86Uc) A couple of decades later, FedEx brought one of those bottles to me.

The bottle itself was quite a sight. Standard sized wine bottle, green glass, no label. The Sotheby’s wrapper had the identifying information. The wrapper was necessary for cleanliness purposes, as the bottle was still caked somewhat with the Crimean cave dirt in which it had rested for about sixty years. Wax seal, still mostly intact, over the cork.

Tokay (or Tokaji), in case you’re wondering, is a dessert wine originating in the Tokaji region of Hungary (the wine is mentioned in the Hungarian national anthem). During the days of the Austro-Hungarian Empire, the Ukraine was part of the Tokaji region, so those wines maintained the moniker. The wine is made from grapes affected by “noble rot,” like French Sauternes. The result is a golden-colored, fragrant, sweet wine with enormous aging potential. As the wine ages, the color changes like a sunset – from gold to increasingly deep red. The complexity of flavors follows.

I consulted with a couple of sommelier friends of mine to get some pointers on handling such an old bottle. The short version of said advice: “Keep the bottle as still as you can so you don’t disturb the sediment, and be careful decanting it.” Later in the evening, my brother-in-law said that he thought there was either something alive or explosive in the box, since I was handling it so gingerly.

The potent fear when opening wine this old is that it might not be wine anymore. It doesn’t take much going wrong over the course of 80 years to complete a wine’s journey to Vinegar-land. After Dad had a chance to see the bottle, the moment of truth was at hand. I slowly started extracting the cork. I immediately saw that there was only about a quarter inch of dry cork left. I’ve seen two-year old bottles with similar looking corks be utterly shot. Butterflies were cutting complex maneuvers in my gut. The cork came free.

My nose met a blast of honey, fruit, and flowers. Intact! The relief and excitement evoked a long-ago summer camp memory of a brown-haired girl’s smile as she whispered, “You can kiss me if you want.”

Grinning and trembling a bit, I decanted the Tokay. All things considered, I did a pretty good job. I was able to keep almost all of the sediment in the bottle. The wine had continued its darkening over the years and was now a deep reddish-chestnut. I poured small amounts for everyone and we toasted my father.

How’d it taste? Unbelievably good. One of the most “layered” wines that I’ve ever tried -- rich, full, and sweet without being cloying. Each sniff and sip yielded something a little different. The notes I managed to scribble (which really don’t do it justice): “Nose: honey, prunes, sunshine, violets. Body: raisins, caramel, honey, peach, pear. Back: spice, honey, little lemon zest. LAYERS. 3 minutes of finish. Stupendous, worthy, rich. Wine for a king’s table.” (Or, as I learned above, a czar’s.)

Since very little of the wine had evaporated over the years, we had enough to actually brave a food pairing. The suggested  pairing with Tokay is pears and blue cheese. Lovely. The pears amplified the fruit in the wine. The creamy funk of the Roquefort shook hands and gave the honey a warm hug. Stunningly tasty.

We continued with the birthday celebration, and I managed to slyly move the decanter from the table so that the Sweet Partner in Crime and I could have a nightcap. Not surprisingly, the soul of the wine, preserved so long, left quickly. The wine was still

drinkable a couple of hours later, showing some of the same flavors, but the bouquet and layers of wonder and complexity had flattened. No matter. This wine lived 80 years and shone brightly for we who were lucky enough to be around when it was opened…like my Dad.

 

 

 

 

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TNV’s Guide to Wine and Cheese – Part III (stinky cheese)

After our forays into hard and soft cheeses, the time has arrived to have a peek of the most polarizing province of the cheese kingdom, stinky cheeses. They’re sometimes known as “pungent,” “blooming,” or “blue” cheeses. So, what are they, and where the heck does that smell come from?

As we discussed in the other entries, cheese is created by allowing milk to curdle, separating the curd from the whey, pressing the curd into a certain shape – then, usually, aging the cheese for a certain period of time. The older the cheese, the stronger or sharper the taste and smell usually become. Stinky cheeses are all aged. What makes them different from, say, cheddar?

With most hard, longer aged cheeses, the chemical and bacterial makeup of the cheeses prevent the formation of various kinds of mold and bacteria. With stinky cheeses, the growth of that mold is not only desirable – it’s encouraged! There are two major processes a cheesemaker uses to “stink up” a cheese: from the outside in and from the inside out.

The “outside in” cheese is usually referred to as a washed rind cheese. Once the cheese’s rind forms, the entire block of cheese is cured for a period of time in brine and/or other substances which can bear mold – usually some type of alcohol. Beer, wine, and brandy are common additions to the wash, along with certain spices. Curing the rind in this solution allows the formation of a certain type of bacteria that imparts the stronger flavors and scents to the cheese. A washed rind cheese can be soft or hard. While the rind usually has a very strong scent, the cheese itself is often somewhat mild. Examples are Limburger, Munster (not Muenster!), and Taleggio.

The “inside out” cheeses are known as inoculated cheeses. An inoculated cheese begins its change from normal to noxious early in its lifetime. While the cheese curds are still loose, they’re injected with a specific type of mold – one from the Penicillum genus. This mold has been used to stinkify cheeses for over 2000 years. As the mold propagates, it forms veins through the cheese, altering the texture, flavor, and odor. “Blue” cheeses are in this category, although the mold can also be brown or green, depending on the specific type of mold involved. Common examples of this type of cheese are Roquefort, Stilton, and Gorgonzola. (As a side note -- this is the same type of mold from which Penicillin was first synthesized when it was discovered that certain bacteria don’t grow in the presence of the mold)

We chose three cheeses for our tasting, along with some “classic” wine pairings:

• Taleggio (pairing: Alsace Riesling)
• Stilton (pairing: Australian tawny port)
• Roquefort (pairing: Sauternes)

You may be looking at those pairings and thinking, “One of these things is not like the other.” You’d be right. For those of you who are unfamiliar with Sauternes, it’s a sweet, expensive French wine that was simply unbelievable, flavorwise. Sauternes is a “botyrized” wine, meaning that the grapes have also molded with “noble rot.” There are other, less expensive, wines made in a similar fashion. Ask your neighborhood wine person. As an alternative, an Auslese Riesling or a ruby (rather than tawny) port will work. Still, follow the link above if you want to read how that wine made our eyes roll back. Otherwise, onward:

Taleggio – A cow’s milk cheese named for Val Taleggio, the valley in Lombardy, Italy, from where this cheese hails. It’s a washed rind cheese, traditionally sponged with seawater once a week during the 6-10 week aging process. The finished product has a whitish rind like brie, but the two smell nothing alike.

I was introduced to Taleggio via one of my coworkers who simply told me, “It’s good stuff.” When I unwrapped it, I have to admit to a moment of dubiousness. There’s no better way to put it – the stuff smelled like feet. However, once I got some of it on a cracker, my opinion rapidly changed. The cheese does have an earthy funk to it, but it’s light. It’s creamy and the flavor is nicely balanced. Very tasty on its own.

Matched with the wines, the Riesling was the best pairing by far. The wine amplifies the funk and brings out some more complex flavors in the cheese itself. However, I would suggest a slightly sweeter Riesling rather than a dry one. The cheese turned the wine somewhat too sharp and metallic. Even just an off-dry Riesling would be enough to keep out the potential unpleasantness. As for the other two – well, I have in my notes, “Poor Taleggio.” Both the Sauternes and Port absolutely overwhelmed this cheese. In my opinion, this would be a great cheese to melt into risotto or some kind of pasta sauce, but on its own, you may get a bad match if you put it on your holiday cheese plate.

Stilton – Another cow’s milk cheese that you’ll find colored either white or yellow. For a cheese to be legally Stilton, it must be made in County Derbyshire, Leicestershire or Nottinghamshire, England. Interestingly, the village of Stilton is not in any of those counties, but instead in the nearby County Cambridgeshire, thus rendering it illegal to produce Stilton in Stilton, for reasons known only to British royalty. Also, Stilton must be made from pasteurized milk rather than raw. (I assume this is to prevent unwanted bacteria from growing.) Stilton is made by piercing the cheese blocks with needles, allowing air bearing the mold into the core of the cheese. Aging of the cheese takes about nine weeks.

On its own, it’s a very full-flavored cheese with a strong salty flavor. The traditional food pairing with Stilton is pears. Sure enough, the two of them meshed very well. The pear-sweetness was an excellent balance for the funky, salty cheese. The traditional wine pairing is port. It was very good. The flavors meshed nicely, and, again, the sweetness of the wine balanced the cheese. The Riesling was pleasant enough. Both experiences, though, paled next to the Stilton with the Sauternes. A little of the cheese, a pear, and the Sauternes was eye-crossingly good. However, I wasn’t trying it with $70 port, so it might not have been the fairest comparison.

Roquefort – This cheese is produced from sheep’s milk and comes from a specific region in the south of France. The particular mold that gives this cheese its particular flavor is found in the soil of nearby caves. The traditional method of making this cheeses involves leaving loaves of bread in the caves until they’re consumed by mold. The moldy bread is then ground into powder and mixed with the curd. The cheese is then aged for about five months. It’s a white cheese, crumbly, and shot through with the mold, which is usually a bright green.

The initial smell of this cheese can set you back a step, but the flavor is one of super creamy goodness. It’s very earthy and salty with a rich consistency and a buttery finish that just goes on and on. “Buttery, yummy mold in your mouth” was a comment from one of us. The Riesling and Port were only average companions for the Roquefort. Neither was particularly outstanding – but few things prepared us for the Sauternes. All of the flavors are very powerful, but they all work together. They practically rotated on our tongues, trading back and forth between the earth and the sweet. After a couple of bites, they settled down, meshing into a combination that simply demanded savoring over a long period of time. Which is exactly what we did, happily.

40th Birthday dinner

I've had a couple of people ask about the birthday dinner that the Sweet Partner in Crime and I had to celebrate my official passage into middle age. We had dinner at Hugo in Oakley. We'd never eaten there before, but we kept hearing great things about it. 

Predictably, Wednesday night was pretty slow at the restaurant, so we were able to sit back, relax, and soak in the decadence. We weren't disappointed. We chose to do the "tasting menu" -- a slate of small plates paired with appropriate wines. When we sat down, the maitre'd asked us if we'd like to "augment our meal with a foie gras course" for a small charge. We said yes. How often do you get foie gras, after all?

Here's how it ended up with the wines -- let the games begin. (Please forgive me, I can't remember some of the garnishes and sides or the wine producers, but they were divine...)

• Diver scallop with arugula salad (Australian Sparkling Sauvignon Blanc)
• Green bean salad (New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc)
• Twice-cooked pork belly (Alsatian Pinot Blanc)
• Yellowtail in thin pastry with gnudi (Oregon Pinot Noir)
• Foie gras on buttermilk biscuits w/almond butter & grape compote (PB&J! --  Moscato d'Asti)
• Homemade spicy pork & beef sausage on white bean puree (Rioja Tempranillo)
• Shrimp & grits (richest grits I've ever tasted -- Australian Shiraz)
• Huguenot tort (apples & walnuts) with maple syrup ice cream milkshake blended with Frangelico & vodka.

We were fine up through the foie gras, which was unbelievably good. The last couple of courses were just so rich that we had a hard time working our way through them. We managed, don't get me wrong -- but we were painfully full after that little adventure. Not much more to the evening than to get home and collapse.  So worth it, though. Absolute overindulgent bliss. 

Hugo definitely gets a thumbs up as an "occasion" restaurant. The service was efficient, but our waiter had a shtick that was clear he stuck to almost robotically. Questions were met with a little annoyance for breaking his Shatner-cadenced delivery. That aside, we never felt rushed. The whole experience lasted better than 2 1/2 hours. Great pace and a great place.

From the Mailbag -- peanut butter

Hello, everyone...

In the interest of keeping the vine growing, I thought I'd post and answer some of the reader questions that I get from time to time, rather than waiting to do a separate mailbag column. So, to start us off, something from Vine reader Lynn A.:

So what is the best wine to accompany peanut butter?(Creamy, not crunchy!)

An interesting question, to be sure. Peanut butter...hmm...

When I'm considering a wine pairing, the first thing I think about are what the major flavor characteristic are of a particular food. In this case, peanut butter would give you creamy and salty. What are the complementary flavor types. Creamy would point you towards white wine, since the acidity helps cleans your palate. Salty -- well, I don't know about you, but I like sweet with my salty. What's the traditional peanut butter partner? Fruit jelly!

So, a white wine with some sweetness in it to counterbalance and complement those flavors -- the first thing that jumps to my mind is Riesling -- especially a somewhat sweeter Riesling. You'd probably be OK with most domestic ones that aren't labeled "Dry Riesling." German Rieslings tend to be a little more nuanced, and you'd probably lose that with your basic peanut butter sandwich.

That's my recommendation. Other ideas from out there?

Wine Dinner -- The Phoenix

Hungry, thirsty area foodies looking for something tasty to do this week should take note. The Phoenix in downtown Cincinnati will be hosting a wine dinner this Wednesday, September 23rd. The dinner will feature six Burgundies from Chanson Pere & Fils with commentary from Chanson's export manager, Sophie Baldo.

According to general manager Kent Vandersall, the menu and pairings go something like this:

• Chanson Vire-Clesse 2006 (passed upon arrival)
• Honey Lime Shrimp, Capellini w/Chanson Chablis 2007
• Arctic Char with White Beans, Mushrooms, and Dried Tomatoes w/Chanson Meursault 2006
• Rosemary Dijon Lamb Chops with Swiss Chard w/Chanson Bourgogne Pinot Noir 2006
• Veal Marengo, Creamed Whipped Parsnips w/Chanson Beaune Clos des Mouches 1er Cru 2006
• Filet of Beef, Carrots Parisienne, Pinot Noir Demi w/Chanson Gevrey-Chambertin 2005
• Fruit and Truffles

Yours truly and the Sweet Partner in Crime will be attending this little shindig, and I'll be posting my thoughts sometime thereafter. Reservations are $70, including tax & gratuity. For more information, contact the Phoenix via their online form or by phone at 513-721-8901.

If you decide to attend, please say hello. I'll be the bald guy.

Let's go to the Mal(bec)...today!

One of the first wines I wrote about on The Naked Vine was Malbec, not long after having discovered it initially. Since then, I haven't had much of an opportunity to natter on about this until-recently-overlooked varietal.

Lovers of French wine know that Malbec is one of six grapes that goes into the blend that makes up Bordeaux wines. (The others being Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Carmenere, and Petit Verdot.) Malbec as a predominant varietal produces big, inky, tannic wines that historically haven't been very common.

Malbec took off as a singular varietal after it was exported from France to Argentina in the mid 1800's. The terroir of Argentina turned out to be exactly what the doctor ordered for this grape. Argentinean Malbec has much less tannin than the French counterpart and, as a result, is a much more flexible, approachable wine.

I've long extolled the virtues of Malbec as a "grilling wine," but there are other benefits, as well. Polyphenols are the organic compounds that give red wine many of their alleged health-supportive properties. Malbec has some of the highest concentrations of polyphenols, making it an extra "heart smart" wine.

During my wine tasting recently, the staff and I got into a conversation about Malbec in its various forms. I ended up choosing three to try with a strip I had ready to throw on the grill. The contestants for this side-by-side-by-side were...

El Dueño 2007 Malbec ($9-11)
1919 2006 Malbec ($9-11)
Chateau Lagrezette "Zette" 2003 Malbec ($8-11)

The first two listed are from the Mendoza valley, which is where most of the best Malbec in Argentina is grown. The third is a French version. It's around 85% Malbec, with some Merlot and a little bit of a grape called Tannat (which produced an even inkier and more tannic wine than Malbec) blended in.

First impressions: The El Dueno smells a lot like a Zinfandel with a big burst of blueberries. You also get a snootful of fumey alcohol that takes some time to breathe itself out. Eventually, the body becomes somewhat tart, with a smoky pepper finish. The 1919 -- my first thought was "chocolate covered bacon." Yes, I'm serious. Work with me on this one. The body was rich, velvety, and much easier to drink on its own than the Dueno. The Zette was a disappointment. The nose reminded me initially of Robitussin, and the body was extremely tannic. Leather moving straight into big tannins without much fruit. Even after a couple of days, the Zette still was a big, tannic mess.

With the aforementioned steak, The Dueno became "brighter" with the beef. The tannins balanced out the fat in the meat and the berry flavors of the wine stepped to the forefront. It stood out well on its own. The 1919 was interesting. Rather than "playing off" the flavors in the beef, the flavors in the 1919 ran "alongside" them. Dark flavors of chocolate and coffee, as well as some dark fruit were a silky sidekick to the rich meat flavors. The finish had enough tannin to take the fat away and leave a pleasantly dry finish. The Zette again fell short. The beef and wine clashed, unfortunately, and we ended up leaving it for later. As I mentioned, I tried drinking it a couple of days later, and couldn't pair it well.

So, what's the verdict? If you like your wine to stand out from your beef -- then go with the Dueno. If you want a wine that you could drink by itself or that eases up next to the grilled meat and nuzzles gently, the 1919. As for the French? I hope it would be happy being part of a good, rich Bordeaux.

Turning the Tables

One of the founding missions of the Vine was to alleviate "wine anxiety" -- the sinking feeling that comes when presented with either an overwhelming array of wine choices or a "think fast" situation. Last weekend, I was at a conference in Chicago. On successive nights, I found myself out to dinner with groups. Each night, a colleague who knew about my secret life away from the academy handed the wine list in my direction and said something to the effect of:

"You're the wine expert -- so you pick the wines!"

Time for the hypothetical rubber to meet the proverbial road.

OK, then -- ground rules if you find yourself in a situation like this. First, it is of utmost importance that you do not panic. Fight down all of those feelings that rise up about making sure you pick the "perfect" bottle. Guess what? You can't. There's simply no way to find a single wine that will perfectly mesh with everything at the table, so don't try. You're looking for "horseshoes and hand grenades" here.

Secondly, since you don't know everyone's palate -- do the best you can. Think about what you would order with the different dishes -- even if they aren't dishes that you'd ordinarily order.

Third, don't let the waiter rush you. Stall. Order water and say that you're "still deciding on your entrée." They'll have to make an extra trip, but no matter -- just tip well.

Fourth, have some standbys in your head. Generally, we fall into patterns with wines and cuisines, so you should have an idea of some relatively flexible wines (or at least varietals) you can call upon. I mean, you can't really go wrong with Riesling or Pinot Noir with just about anything.

Fifth, don't be afraid to get the least expensive bottle on the menu. If a restaurant's worth its salt, they won't put crap wine on their wine-by-the-bottle list. (They will jack up the price of nasty wine by the glass, though.)

So, what did Mike do?

The first night, I was at an Italian place, Volare, with two coworkers from my college and a new friend that we'd met in the hotel bar while we were deciding where we were going to go. (She hailed from Utah and had given a presentation at the conference, so she certainly needed wine.) I ordered a seafood risotto dish, and the others ordered bowtie pasta in a vodka sauce, ravioli in a salmon sauce, and a Caprese salad (mozzarella, tomatoes, and basil).

What do we have here? Seafood, lots of tomato flavors, and a salad. So, a flexible Italian red. Nothing too heavy, light tannins, and nice fruit. My normal instinct would have been to look for a Montepulciano, but there weren't any available. So, I went with a Barbera d'Alba instead. Something like the Marchesi Di Barolo 2006 Barbera D'alba Ruvei would work well here. (Around $15 retail.) The table seemed to be agreeable with the pairing, even one person who normally didn't drink red wine. The food, just for the sake of full disclosure, was downright wonderful.

The next night, I was with a large group at Tavern at the Park, a "classic American cuisine" restaurant overlooking...well...Millennium Park. I was having wine, and a couple of other people expressed interest -- although for some reason I ended up splitting the bottle with only one other person. Anyway, the menu at this place is all over the map, but most folks were keeping to beef or seafood. (One of our party ordered a scrumptious looking brownie dessert as an appetizer! Rock on!) Most of the food was grilled, so I needed something that would pair well there.

Grilled meat and fish hearkened me straight back to Barcelona, so I found a Spanish red, the Viña Izadi 2004 Rioja (again, retails for about $15). A little bit of spice and smoke on the nose and in the body held up well against the grilled flavors, and enough oomph to handle sauces and the like. Like most Rioja, this one needed to open up a bit before drinking, but once it did, it was a very serviceable, tasty wine. Also, there's the added bonus of introducing people to Spanish wine. Lots of people think that's cool. (Well, except John McCain.)

The main thing to remember is that you really can't screw up too badly. Just remember, if someone sips their wine and they don't like it -- no worries! They're no worse off than where they started, and they'll probably order whatever they're used to anyway. So, either everyone at the table gets a glass that they like and enjoy, or there'll be an extra glass in the bottle that you're going to enjoy. Whatever happens, you win! So, spin the wheel, hand over the wine list, and let 'er rip...


Stumble It!

'Boeuf's Beaujolais Blunder

I've mentioned on more than one occasion what a fan I am of Beaujolais. Beaujolais is the red of summertime. It's best served slightly chilled, is light in body, and pairs with a huge array of summertime foods. Cold cuts, cheeses, grilled or roasted chicken, pork -- any of these stand tastily next to a slightly chilled glass of the stuff. As I mentioned last time -- Beaujolais is one of the few wines that will complement pretty much any salad, regardless of what you're throwing in the bowl -- thus, an essential around this household!

As a quick refresher, Beaujolais is a province within Burgundy. These wines are all produced from the Gamay grape and are fermented through a process called carbonic maceration. In this process, grapes are piled into a tall, vertical container pumped full of carbon dioxide and yeast is added. Rather than crushing the grapes and fermenting the resulting juice in the presence of oxygen, most of the sugar is fermented while still in the grape skin. This process creates some unique flavor compounds.

There are three basic quality levels of Beaujolais, in ascending order:

Beaujolais -- These wines are produced from grapes grown anywhere within the Beaujolais region.
Beaujolais-Villages -- These wines are produced from grapes grown in one of thirty-nine villages in the southern part of the region, known to produce consistently high quality wine.
Beaujolais Cru -- There are ten villages known to produce the best wine in the region, and the wines are designated simply by the name of the town.

(Do not confuse these classifications with Beaujolais Nouveau. This wine is very light, and is meant to be drunk almost immediately after bottling. As a marketing ploy, the third Thursday of November is always the release date. To me, Beaujolais Nouveau is the oenological equivalent of Hallmark's "Sweetest Day.")

Come summertime, I usually have several bottles of Beaujolais-Villages and cru lying around. However, when this season began, I went to the French aisle to stock up and got smacked in the face with an unpleasant surprise.

All of the prices went up -- and not by a little...by a lot. Last year, a bottle of DuBoeuf's Beaujolais-Villages could be had for $6-7. This year, it was $11-12, and the 1.5 liter bottle was $20. When I asked about the price hike, I was given some explanation about shipping costs, exchange rates, and so on. I shook my head, since most of the other wines from around the world (including most French wines) have maybe gone up in price by 5-10%, not 100.

My theory? Beaujolais' popularity started to skyrocket over the last few years, and Georges DuBoeuf decided it was time to cash in. DuBoeuf is the leading producer in the Beaujolais world, and the prices of these wines often follow the lead. A few years ago, a bottle of the aforementioned Beaujolais Nouveau was in the $7 range. Now, they're selling for more than some crus, after a huge marketing blitz by GDB.

I looked for other light red alternatives. I discovered a pretty good substitute in the J.Lohr 2006 Wildflower Valdiguié. This wine was marketed as Gamay, until it was discovered that Valdiguié is a slightly different grape. But "slightly different" in this case is of the same degree as the difference between Miley Cyrus and Hannah Montana. The flavor of this Monterey County wine is almost indistinguishable from a Beaujolais-Villages, dark in color, fruity in flavor, and with a soft tannic finish. I started keeping this around a fair bit.

Then, an amazing thing happened. Apparently, Adam Smith's invisible hand smacked our French winemaker friend in the side of the noggin. The last four wine stores I've walked into have had DuBoeuf's various brands of Beaujolais on sale, with discounts that bring these wines back into line with what I would expect to pay. So, I finally got around to trying a few for the season:

The DuBeouf 2006 Beaujolais-Villages was marked down from $12 to $8. It's still very much the pleasant wine that I remembered. The nose was soft mint and cherries, and the flavor is one you can throw down without too much thought. A great wine to break out with dinner or just on a warm summer evening.

The DuBeouf 2006 "La Trinquee" Juliénas had an interesting smoky flavor to go with the richer fruit. There were some solid cherry and blackberry scents and tastes. This one would go really nicely with a grilled chicken dish, especially if you were going to have a side that included a salad with tomatoes. A very nice compliment. ("La Trinquée" is "the clinking glass" -- which is also a nice conversation starter.)

Finally, the DuBeouf Domaine de Grand Croix 2006 Brouilly had dropped from $17 down to a much more respectable $13. The nose of this one is very pretty -- cherries and lavender. The flavor is very well-balanced from an acidity standpoint for Beaujolais. The finish is fruitier but a little more tannic than many in this family of wines. If you were doing grilled chops or other pork dishes, I'd probably recommend this one.

Bottom line, while making a profit is obviously the goal of any winemaker -- pushing too far can lead to trouble...although finding good wine on sale is certainly a thrill for this wine drinker!

Also, this wine writer's going to put things on hold for a bit. I'm off on a muchly needed vacation for a few weeks to recharge the batteries. If you need some other ideas for wines or other general information, please poke around the tasting index and see what you can see.

I'll have some stories when I return...believe me...

Stumble It!

Salad Days

Summertime. Fresh vegetables and herbs. All the natural yumminess you’d ever want, there for the taking at your local farmer’s market or in your backyard if you’re lucky enough to be able to keep things a’growing.

I know that I focus a lot on what to eat with grilled food during seasons like this, but I’m just as likely to want something light when it’s blazing hot. I’m perfectly happy with a big ol’ dinner salad most nights, but that doesn’t change the need to indulge my little oenological fixation.

Salads are tough for wines, though. Greens of almost all sorts have at least a hint of bitterness in their flavors. Some, like arugula, can be absolute wine killers that make a decent bottle of chardonnay taste like turpentine. Also, as delicious as fresh vegetables can be, flavors leap off in any number of directions and throw off many flavors in wine. Roasting certain veggies can markedly change food flavors, mushrooms add earthiness, asparagus almost always sets wine on its ear, and so on.

Heck, we haven’t even started talking about different kinds of dressing. Or perhaps you want to add meat to your greens to soothe the carnivorous beast within. How can you set up a pairing for optimal dining pleasure while not either making a boring salad or ruining a perfectly good bottle of wine?

When I think about wine pairings for salads, I follow three simple rules:

1) Go with the acid. Without veering headlong into Timothy Leary Territory, I’ll simply give assurances that powerful hallucinogens and romaine generally do not mix. However, tartaric and malic acids generally work much more effectively. The acidity of tart, crisp wines tends to cut through the bitterness that most greens have, as well as working to effectively dissolve the oils in most dressings, which allows both the flavor of the wine and the other flavors in the salad to make a stronger impression. Almost any crisp wine will work with a salad. And when in doubt, as with any number of other foods, rosé works well. For instance, the Saintsbury 2006 Carneros Vin Gris -- A French-styled rosé from California. It reminded me a great deal of Tavel. The wine has a pleasant nose of strawberries. Body is slightly acidic and quite fruity. Finish has a nice fruit, followed by a crispness that would make it a wonderful pairing with almost any kind of salad you might come up with. $12-14.

2) Pair with the dominant flavor. The idea here is similar to the rule of thumb used when pairing wines with pasta. You wouldn't want to drink a pinot grigio with a heavy tomato and meat sauce, but a big ol' Montepulciano works splendidly. Think about the major flavor in the salad -- or if there's one ingredient that, even if it's just an accent flavor, would be the first thing people taste. For instance, we recently made a tomato salad with lots of Mediterranean flavors: parsley, pistachios, mint, and scallions. While light, the tomatoes and herbs certainly took center stage. After some discussion with a knowledgeable staff person at a local wine store, we came upon the Pierre Boniface Apremont 2006 Vin de Savoie -- This wine from the French Alps is made from a local grape called Jacquère. The nose is cream and apples and the flavor is somewhat acidic and grapefruity. However, much like the wines from the neighboring Loire Valley, you get a some minerality, although not as much as a Muscadet. The body is light and crisp with a slighty flinty finish. A wine like this will cut through strong herbal flavors as well as the acid of things like tomato. $11-13.

3) Spice can be nice, but always think twice. While many think of salads as simply cool and green, adding spice and heat to a salad is becoming more and more common. If you look at the ingredient list for almost any salad in a cooking magazine these days, you're going to run into ingredients in either the dressing or the salad itself that adds peppery, savory flavors to the mix. Thankfully, there are a number of wines that balance those flavors. When it comes to pairing food with spices, Riesling immediately jumps to mind, especially dry Rieslings. The better dry Rieslings are often from Alsace, and one I had recently was The Furst 2006 Riesling – a wine with an interesting twist. The nose is perfumey and appley, much as I expected from a Riesling. Most Alsace Rieslings I've tasted have been bone dry, but this one has a pleasant amount of sweetness, which works wonderfully to balance the flavors you'd find in a salad. Also, the body wasn't as heavy as some Rieslings I've had. If you're doing an Asian-flavored salad, you'd be well-advised to spend $12-14 here.

The other major varietal that pairs with almost any salad is Beaujolais, but I'll hold off on discussing those in depth since they'll be the central theme of the next entry. But if you want a red wine with a salad, that should always, always be your first thought.

So, enjoy that fresh produce straight from garden to plate -- and confidently pour something that stands up proudly alongside.

Tare What?

Hang out with corkheads long enough, and someone will eventually start talking about terroir. Wine's typically not something to be scared of, so what gives?

No, not "terror" -- "terroir!" It's pronounced "tare-WAHR" and is the backbone of any wine. Specifically -- it's where the bloomin' grapes come from.

The term is often used in discussions of the soil in which grapes grow, but I prefer the broader definition. Terroir certainly includes the soil itself, but also encompasses the climate and the topography of the growing region. The most obvious example of the expression of terroir is in the classification of French and Italian wines.

To wit, the terroir of the Bordeaux region produces a certain type of wine. That’s then further divided into the specific area of Bordeaux (Pomerol, Margaux, etc.) and then even further into the various Chateaus – like Lafite-Rothschild, et al. You see this more and more with many American wines as well. You’ll see wines labeled “Central Coast” or “Willamette Valley” – and these wines often get down to listing the individual vineyards from which the grapes are harvested.

So, why does all this matter? What difference does it make where these wines are from – especially wines like the ones we’ve got here – wines that aren’t the tippy top of the scale?

Because where the grapes are grown can tell you as much about what’s in that bottle as the grape varietal itself. If you’ve been reading the Vine for awhile – or even if you’ve just stumbled your way through Wine School, you’ll notice that there are often huge flavor variations among wines made of the same grape. The largest of these flavor differences go hand in hand with geography. For instance, a sauvignon blanc from New Zealand will generally have flavors of tropical fruit, a white Bordeaux often has a lighter, minerally taste, and an American sauvignon might taste more like grapefruit.

Terroir also explains why some regions grow certain grapes. Pinot noir, for instance, needs a very particular type of climate. That’s why so few regions produce the grape. And it’s no accident that New Zealand is about as far south of the equator as Oregon and Burgundy are north.

I bring all this up because knowing a wine’s terroir (and the general flavors of wines from that area) comes in very handy when you’re trying to find a wine either to pair with food or just to have on its own. As a rule of thumb – wines grown in cooler climates tend to be more delicate and have more complex flavors. Warmer climate wines tend to be higher in alcohol and have much more powerful fruit tastes.

One of the complaints you'll often hear about wines in the price range we're most interested in is the "uniformity of flavor" these wines often have. "One tastes like another," you'll hear many people say. Even among similarly priced wines from the same country, you’ll find significant differences. As an example, I tasted three American syrahs -- often considered to be fairly uniform. I looked at three, all between $10-12:

I started with the J. Lohr 2005 South Ridge Syrah. J. Lohr's syrah comes from Paso Robles. Red wines from Paso Robles (about halfway between San Francisco and Los Angeles, and inland across the Santa Lucia mountains) have some consistent notes across varietals. The Paso Robles Wine website quotes Matt Kramer’s book in stating that almost all their reds (they grow primarily Cabernet, Merlot, Grenache, and Syrah) have soft tannins and rich fruitiness. This is another perfect example of terroir description -- common flavor elements across grape varietals. This syrah falls squarely along those lines. The nose of this wine is big, fruity and smoky. It tastes much like it smells -- with flavors of blueberries, blackberries and leather. The finish is leathery and dry, but the tannins soften considerably as the wine opens. If I hadn't known better initially, I'd thought I'd been handed a cabernet, and this certainly could pass as a cabernet’s first cousin.

From there, we move on to the Rock Rabbit 2004 Central Coast Syrah. Rock Rabbit grows most of its grapes slightly north of J. Lohr in the "Central Coast" region near Monterey. The wines from this region tend to be big and juicy, and this syrah also follows right along. According to the winemaker, this wine is made in "Australian style," and I would concur. The nose is big and plummy -- a fruit bomb to be sure. The flavor is very fruit dominant, although it mellows a bit after a sip or two. Plenty of plums and licorice, and the finish is only slightly dry. It's quite a contrast.

Finally, I went with the Hogue 2005 Syrah. I expected a big difference, and I wasn't disappointed. Hogue is from Washington State, where the weather is considerably cooler than what you'll find in California. As such, the wine is much more balanced and almost delicate. The nose has much more subtle fruit -- raspberry comes to mind, with a smoky undertone. The flavor is "smooth earthy" -- blueberries and caramel. The finish is long and not very dry. A very pleasant wine, and a much more complex one than the other two.

So, have no fear of terroir – let it be your ace in the hole when it comes to picking the “right wine.” Much as in the description of Paso Robles above, you can feel pretty safe in picking out a flavor profile once you get exposed to a certain terroir. Give it a go and see what you find!

"...when you're having more than one."

Let's face facts.

Lots of wine drinking has nothing to do with "wine tasting," especially in summertime. Sure, there are gatherings where people taste a bunch of wine and there are dinners where it's nice to have a good pairing, but this is the season for long nights out on the patio and for gatherings. Backyards. Front porches. Picnics. Reunions.

Somewhere near the cooler of beer, there are usually at least a few bottles of wine about. Now, some believe that "more is better" applies, and the jugs of Gallo get stuck in the ice next to the PBR. While I'm happy to toss back wine sans swirling -- I want to slug something that's not going to make me feel like I've just poured a plastic cupful of battery acid.

So, we're basically looking for some wines that aren't going to be center stage. We're not going for complexity. We're not looking to take flavors apart. We want some wines that will be inexpensive enough that you can load up, but of enough of a quality that no one's giving their glass that "one squinty eyed" frown.

I've found a few that could fill the bill -- so, for your gathering pleasure...

Sundial 2004 Cabernet Sauvignon -- When I bought this bottle, I was told by the person in the wine store, "People who buy it usually come back and get some more." After a glass or two, I understood why. For a bargain-line cabernet, this is a surprisingly big and tannic wine. ($13-14 for a 1.5 liter) An absolute must: make sure you let it breathe for awhile. Once it opens up, you'll get a nice nose full of raspberries and dark fruit. It's got solid body with some uncomplicated fruity flavors, and a decently dry finish. Perfect for any grilling occasion.

Twisted PiG 2006 Pinot Grigio -- I've been seeing a lot of Twisted Head wines on the shelves of various wine stores, and I happened upon their pinot grigio. This wine certainly fits the "uncomplicated" mold. It's very light and has some decent fruit, but it wasn't anything overly exciting -- until we had it with some salty snacks. Pretzels were fantastic, and I'd imagine chex mix would have been, as well. It's about $8 for a 1.5 liter bottle. Easy enough to drink without ill effect or ill flavor.

Borsao "Vina Borgia" 2006 Campo de Borja -- I'm intrigued by a wine that tags itself as the wine of an infamous noble family, but hey -- why not? (It actually refers to the town in Spain, Borja). I've long been a fan of Spanish wine, and I'm glad to see them start to release value-sized bottles of the stuff. In my experience, especially with Spanish reds, even the most inexpensive have been drinkable. This wine is 100% Grenache. It's solid fruit if you try it right after it's opened, but given a few minutes to get its legs under it, it's got a very pleasant fruit scent, enough tannin to be interesting blending with the flavors of berries and cherries, and a slightly dry finish. Another great wine for anything grilled, and really tasty with chocolatey desserts. $11-12.

Le Faux Frog 2005 Pinot Noir -- I admit, this was an impulse buy. I was walking past the box wines and I saw this very cute frog on one of them. Closer inspection revealed that this was actually a Toad Hollow production, so I picked it up. At first pull, very tight and really tart, but after a few minutes, and for subsequent glasses, one of us remarked, "This...is a dangerous wine." The nose is largely cherry, but nothing complex. But definitely a real pinot-ish scent. Flavor, again, after a few minutes to let it open is soft fruit and has a somewhat complex finish of blackberries and coffee. It also lulls you into a false sense of security because it's super easy to drink...so it's probably good that it's only $23-25 for the adorably-frog-adorned 3 liter box.