Krall's Thrall

One of the great guilty pleasure sites on the Intertubes is The Smoking Gun. The Wizard of Covington ("The Width of a Circle") passed along the recent TSG feature on Diana Krall.

Tour riders are great. The demands that touring bands have for their venues can be from the ridiculous to the sublime. Krall provides a list of some seventy-some odd wines deemed "acceptable" for her dressing room spread. Pretentious wine snob?

Heck no! She's practically a Vine reader. (Who knows...maybe she is...) A quick glance down the page reveals about half of the wines listed fall squarely in our acceptable range. Sure, there are some $40+ critters on there, but heck -- I've reviewed a bunch of them.

And I'm happy to work my way down the list and provide her with copious tasting notes if she can hook me up for drinks with her hubby, Declan McManus.

Headfirst into the Wine Lake

French wine can be confusing.

As I've noted, French wines are usually tagged with the name of the region from which the wine hails. From there we can often get the specific city, the estate, the quality of the vines, and even the specific vineyard from which the grapes were harvested. From "Appellation d'Origine Contrôlée" to "Vin Délimités de Qualité Supérieure," French wine labels are a cascade of vocabulary. There's usually one thing missing:

The frickin' grape the wine's made from.

Unless you've done your homework, you likely wouldn't know that the 2005 Domaine/Maison Jean-Marc Brocard St. Bris is a nine-dollar bottle of Sauvignon Blanc.

The French cling strongly to their winemaking tradition. Historically, they take as much pride in viniculture as in philosophy, art, or Fabian Barthez. Time changes all things.

French per capita wine drinking has dropped steadily for the last 40 years. In the 1990's alone, consumption dropped by almost 20 percent. During the same period, other countries markedly improved their own winemaking techniques, reducing demand for French wine worldwide. The "Freedom Fries" nonsense in the U.S. in the early 2000s exacerbated the situation. The result? A huge glut of wine -- known as the "Wine Lake."

The French government attempted to drain the lake by sponsoring vine pulls (as in Australia) and by converting some of the wine to industrial alcohol. Neither made much of a dent.

The French stood fast for a long time to their tradition, but they saw the effectiveness of Australia's marketing plan: the sale of inexpensive, easy to understand wine to the U.S., China, and others.

France followed suit. Some French winemakers began marketing table wines labeled by varietal instead of location. They've also changed their bottling schemes. Gone are the pictures of chateaux and avalanches of hard to read script. In its place, very "normal" looking bottles. More often than not, the results have been pretty decent. For example:

Les Jamelles 2005 Sauvignon Blanc -- Before the first shoots of The Vine caught sunlight, Les Jamelles was one of the first inexpensive French wines I discovered. It's been a solid, consistent choice ever since. This very drinkable Sauvignon Blanc has floral notes and peaches on the nose. The flavor is very light without too much initial acidity. The flavor is nice, round and peachy with some more citrusy flavor on the end. The crisp finish makes it perfect for the pool or any light meat or fish dish. $9-10.

Red Bicyclette 2005 Pinot Noir -- This pinot surprised me. We opened a bottle of this (among others) one night for the heck of it on our back patio with some friends of ours, and the bottle might have lasted fifteen minutes. Of course, that might have had to do with the company as much as the wine, but I digress. In any case, for the price, I certainly didn't expect a pinot this good. The nose is soft with cherries, and the flavor is very silky. Lots of berries and cherries. The finish was "relaxed." I thought it was a great kick-back wine, especially if coupled with some crackers and mild cheese – and, of course, the friends and conversation. Again, $9-10.

Georges Duboeuf 2005 Merlot Reserve -- Good old Duboeuf. Since they've basically cornered the market on inexpensive Beaujolais, it was only expected that they might expand a bit to other grapes. I've started seeing a number of other Duboeuf offerings of varietal wines on the shelves lately, and I'll likely look into them more closely soon. This merlot has a fruity nose of blackberries. It's medium-bodied and a little bit dry. The finish is "quicker" than and not as fruity as many merlots. I'd place it squarely in the "inoffensive" category -- not bad if you're not thinking about it, but probably not the best to pair up with food. The draw of this wine is the brightly multicolored bottle. As a "party" red, this would be a good choice at around $8-9.

By all accounts, the wine lake is still somewhat deep. While the high end French wines remain high end, the inexpensive versions should remain relatively good buys for the immediate future. Give them a swirl and see what you get -- and if you find one worth sharing, please do!

Cannonball!

The Thunder Down Under

My initial experience with Australian libations came during my first semester in college. I was a semi-clueless freshman, hanging out with some of my soon-to-be fraternity brothers. One of them handed me something that looked like a can of 10w/30.

"Foster's. Australian for beer." (Any self-respecting Ozzie will clip you for repeating that phrase. Victoria Bitter is Australian for beer.)

I didn't bump into any other Australian beverages until eight or nine years later, when I learned the then-well-kept secret: Australia makes some pretty good wine.

Set the Wayback Machine for the late 18^th Century. Not long after England claimed Australia in 1770 and began using it as a penal colony, Australians started producing wine. The first large scale production came about around the turn of the century, and the first bottles were available for export in the 1820s. Wine production in Australia roughly mirrored that of the United States. Of course, there was one major difference:

Prohibition.

While America made fortunes for the mob, bootleggers, and makers of bathtub gin, the Australians continued to refine their winemaking skills. By the time American winemaking got back on its feet in the 1970s, the Australians were pumping out large quantities for sale all over Europe. Australian wine was so popular and planted so widely that, in the late 1980's, the Australian government ordered thousands of acres of vines pulled to combat a glut of grapes. Then someone had a bright idea -- sell wine in America.

The strategy paid off handsomely. In 1990, Australia exported about 600,000 cases of wine to the U.S. Last year, the US imported over 25 million. China recently started importing Australian wine and quickly became the world's fastest growing market. Australia is best known for Shiraz (remember – it’s Syrah) and Chardonnay, although any number of other grapes flourished in recent years.

Australia remains a major force in the inexpensive wine world. I heard someone once refer to inexpensive label Australian wines referred to as "pop tart wines" -- since, in his opinion, they tasted identical, much that only a connoisseur can tell strawberry Pop Tarts from blueberry. While largely true, I find many of those wines are quite decent as "sluggables." (I also have a weakness for Pop Tarts.)

Here's some Down Under tipple for you:

Penfolds 2004 Thomas Hyland Shiraz -- Penfolds, arguably the most famous Australian label, has the distinction of making the Shiraz which started both the Sweet Partner in Crime and I down the Aussie wine road. My initiation was in graduate school while half-cocked at a party thrown by an Ozzie whose name escapes me. The SPinC -- also in graduate school, supplementing her meagre stipend by working at Outback. Penfolds is a solid, dependable Shiraz. The Thomas Hyland has a nice upfront nose of dark berries. The flavor is very pleasant and plummy. The finish is fruity, has a good amount of peppery taste, and lasts a long time. We had this with some kabobs with sundried tomato sausage, peppers, tomatoes, mushrooms, and pineapple. Deeelishous. $13-15.

Little Penguin 2006 Chardonnay -- The Little Penguin (like Rosemount, Yellow Tail, Four Emus, etc.) is one of the aforementioned "pop tart wines." I find most inexpensive chards pretty bland or, if Californian, oaky as a burnt tree. Little Penguin actually distinguishes itself from the pack. I bought a bottle on a whim. I needed a sluggable white to go with angel hair pasta and shrimp. I was pleasantly surprised. The nose is nothing too out of the ordinary -- typical chardonnay scents of pears and such. However, the first taste was spicy, almost like cloves, dissolving to a nice fruity middle. The finish was surprisingly crisp. It's nothing too complicated -- but for $4-5 a bottle, this wine's a great value. Pastas, seafood, chicken -- any of your typical chardonnay pairings would work.

Villa Maria 2005 Private Bin Hawkes Bay Unoaked Chardonnay -- I'll stray just east of Australia because I need to shoot praise towards New Zealand. New Zealand's wine production is growing rapidly and is positioned in a slightly more expensive price range than their neighbor. New Zealand does exceptionally interesting, tasty Sauvignon Blanc. Other varietals, like this Chardonnay, are becoming more popular. One characteristic of New Zealand wines is a pungent, complex nose. No exception with the Villa Maria. There's a strong scent of ripe bananas and flowers. It's a little acidic, but not minerally like the Chablis after which it's styled. Instead, there’s more of a creamy banana flavor. (The SPinC didn't get bananas at all when we tried it -- she got vanilla.) The finish is a little sharp and dry. You'll find this at around $10. The Villa Maria website suggests "A crisp salad of celery and green beans with potatoes, lemon and olives." Sounds like a winner to me.

Enjoy the fruits of the Southern Hemisphere Remember, in the words of Charles Schultz: “Don't worry about the world coming to an end today. It is already tomorrow in Australia.”

"Shall I unscrew it for you?"

One of my favorite sitcoms of all time is Night Court. In one memorable episode, Dan Fielding, the Lothario of all prosecutors (played brilliantly by John Larroquette), finally gets his chance to bed his nemesis, defense attorney Christine Sullivan. Always the…ahem…gentleman, Dan takes Christine out for dinner, orders some bubbly, and the maître d' delivers a classic line:

"Chateau Libido isn't one of our usual selections. Shall I unscrew it for you?"

Screwcaps and cheap wine have a long association. For years, only wines of last resort had screwtops instead of corks. These wines generally could be found comfortably nestled in paper bags in the hands of…well…people who regularly drink wines of last resort. For many years, screwcaps had this unfortunate association.

Oxygen is generally the #1 enemy of wine. If you've ever had the misfortune to drink from a bottle with a deteriorated cork, you know that vinegar taste well. In addition, there's a chemical compound called TCA that can form in a cork when moisture, chlorine, and mold interact. This causes a wine to taste like damp cardboard. When a wine takes on this flavor, it’s said to be “corked” – an affliction affecting about one bottle per case of imported wine, on average.

Enter the "Stelvin closure." Stelvins were invented in the 1950's in France. The Stelvin is a screwtop designed specifically for use with wine bottles. Stelvins are two-piece caps that create a virtually airtight seal, thus no "corked" wine or rotting closures. They're also much more environmentally friendly, since no trees are damaged in the making of these closures. In the late 90's, Australia became the first country to use screwtops widely. Some California winemakers (most notably Bonny Doon) followed suit in the early 2000's. Some vintners now put $100+ wine in screw top bottles.

The Stelvin's popularity continues to spread. About 10 percent of all wine bottled worldwide now are sealed with screwtops. Two issues prevent screwtops from becoming more widespread. First, aging. No one knows how well wine will age in a screwtop bottle. Second, romance. Many feel there's something magical to that "pop" of a freshly drawn cork.

Since we're not worried about aging and you can open wines in another room -- I say ease of use wins out. Worse to be caught corkscrewless than seem cheap. Also, since you can twist the top back on and the seal is airtight, the wine maintains taste for a longer period of time. So, try a couple of these and twist to your heart's content:

Hogue 2005 Washington State Pinot Grigio -- Hogue was one of the first large-scale U.S. winemakers to switch to Stelvins. They've always done decent, inexpensive wine -- but they grabbed a larger market share after making the twist switch. As for the wine itself, the nose is light with peach and apple scents. The body is full for a pinot grigio. It's a little acidic, but with an interesting creaminess. The finish is of decent length with a refreshing end. You could consider serving this with slightly heavier food than you might an ordinary pinot grigio. Fettucini alfredo, grilled shrimp, etc… $8-10.

Twin Wells 2004 Terra Australis Reserve Shiraz: "So a Frenchman goes to Australia…" No, I don't know a punchline, and I have no idea if the winemaker is really a French expat, but this wine is as close to Europe as I've had from Australia. Since the Ozzies started this trend on a large scale, we need a wine from Down Under as an appropriate representative. The Sweet Partner in Crime gave me this wine as a blind test, and I thought I was sniffing a Cotes-du-Rhone. The nose was a little too rich and fruity for a C-d-R, but the "Old World Funk" seemed to be there. The flavor is definitely Australian Shiraz: big, dark fruits -- but with an earthier body than most. The finish is long, a little tannic, and a little tart. The price is what blew me away on this one. Found this at Trader Joe's for $7. Serve with your typical shiraz foods: grilled meats, roasted chicken, lamb, steak, and so on.

Verget du Sud 2006 Rosé de Syrah -- Not even the stodgy French could resist the temptation of the Stelvin. Winemaker Jean-Marie Guffens is a traveler. He wanders France looking for small growers producing good grapes -- but doesn't limit himself to the grapes of a particular region. His wines are exclusively (to my knowledge) capped with Stelvins. This rosé is made from southern Rhone Valley Syrah. This is a "pretty smelling" rosé -- lots of flowers and pineapple. It's very nicely balanced to taste -- the fruit isn't overcome by any acidic "bite." The finish does turn tart and a little dry. The combination of acidity and full (for rosé) body would make this a winner with almost any food short of heavy beef and sauces. With anything shellfish related, especially a fish stew or paella, it brings down the house. $9-12.

Any of these selections would be superior to D.A. Fielding’s choice of sparkling wine. But few men have walked the earth armed with a better coup de grace than Dan’s clincher:

"How do I love thee? Let me count the ways....I know 52 of them."

Court adjourned!

Rammer Jammer Yellowhammer!The Naked Vine's in Alabama!

The good folks at Planet Weekly in Tuscaloosa, Alabama, are the latest to join the Vine family. I may not be able to install sauvignon blanc as the official tailgating beverage at the Iron Bowl, but I guarantee I'll find you a pairing for some Dreamland take-out.

Get yourself a glass, pull up a seat, kick back, and stay awhile...

"Woke up this morning/Got yourself the Vine…"

Only fitting as a tribute to the now-departed Sopranos that I give Italy some more space. Since the series focused on Italian expatriates, I thought I'd look at Italian expatriate wines. (OK, it's a stretch -- I needed a lead…sue me…)

What do I mean by "expatriate wines?" Many grapes are native to a certain region or country. For the most part, grapes prefer their original terroir. Wines from a grape's native region tend to be better examples of a particular varietal, but not always. Planting a grape in a different country’s soil sometimes yields an interesting result.

For example, malbec -- a humble blending grape in France -- took root in Argentina and became an excellent red on its own. Riesling, long of Germany and Alsace, takes on a very different character outside the Rhineland. Italian grapes largely don't fare well outside the confines of their motherland. Italian grapes tend to be persnickety -- requiring very specific climates and soils.

Luckily, there are always a few winemakers who have enough stubbornness and desire for particular wine styles to overcome a grape’s homesick tendencies. A few other places around the globe are now making good wines from Italian stock. For instance, Sangiovese -- the backbone grape of Chianti, is now cultivated somewhat widely in California. The results are quite interesting – try one next to a Chianti Classico and see what I mean. Here are a few other Italian grapes "out of their element" for your consideration:

Blue Fish 2005 Pinot Grigio Pfalz -- Pinot Grigio actually hails from Burgundy, where it is known as pinot gris. Much like the nomenclature of Shiraz and Syrah, winemakers tend to name their wines after the style the wine most resembles. Drier wines tend to be labeled "Pinot Grigio." Blue Fish is best known for making solid, inexpensive Riesling, but recently started experimenting with other varietals, including Pinot Grigio.

The wine has a soft nose of grapefruit and honey. The wine is medium-bodied and is quite dry. There's also some tart, tropical flavor. The finish is grapefruity and of decent length for a simple wine. I'd consider it a cross between a Sauvignon Blanc and a Grüner Veltliner. A dry, acidic wine is usually refreshing and food friendly. You could have this with a risotto, with some grilled chicken, or baked swordfish. You could also sip this one by itself on a warm day. $6-7.

Rancho Zabaco 2004 Sonoma Heritage Vines Zinfandel -- In Italy, the Zinfandel grape is known as Primitivo. While the lineage of this grape reaches back to somewhere in Croatia, it came into its own in Italy’s Apulia region. Zinfandels (and no, not white zinfandel -- we've covered that…) are often big, alcoholic wines that are made specifically to be "fruit bombs." Some of them are a little more restrained -- but you're generally not thinking "subtle" when you’re quaffing zin.

I won't make any bones about it…I really enjoy this wine. Rancho Zabaco does three different, readily available zins. There's the "Dancing Bull" -- about $7-8 a bottle. There's the "Stefani Vineyard Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel," setting you back $28-30. Then you have the “Sonoma Heritage Vines.” At $12 or so, it’s a huge step up from Dancing Bull and holds its own against most other wines. Scrape your couch cushions for a few extra bits and try it.

The Heritage Vines has a big nose -- sharp with blackberries and mint. The body, not unexpectedly, is big and bold with a nice balance of dark fruit and tannin. The finish is long and dry, with a nice cherry taste winding it all up. You going to put barbecue sauce on anything this summer? Get a bottle of this to go with it.

Goats Do Roam 2005 "The Goatfather" -- Goats Do Roam has been a favorite value pick of mine ever since I had it for dinner a few years ago at Francesca's in Lexington, KY. The Goatfather ("Goats do roam…capice?") is a "reserve" release from this South African winery. This wine is a blend on which the winemakers claim omerta. It's a mix of traditional vinifera (Syrah, Cabernet, Merlot) and a couple of Italian varietals (Barbera, Primitivo). The result? While the nose of The Goatfather doesn't exactly conjure images of an Italian trattoria, you do get some interesting plum and licorice scents. The taste is strong and earthy. Decanting is a must. There's a surprising amount of tannin here -- it reminds me a great deal of a petit sirah with the chocolate flavors therein. The finish is long and smoky, with plenty of tannin. Like most big Italian reds, this wine would be much better paired with food than having it on its own. This would be a great match with earthy, savory foods. Sausages, ribs, stews and root vegetables would be excellent with this. You'll find it for $12-14. Similar "Super Tuscan" Italian blends will run you $20 and up.

One last thought about the Sopranos -- I thought the last two episodes were some of the best television I've ever seen. As for the last scene -- yes, it was a little over the top. I never thought I'd read about the symbolic confluence of Journey lyrics, onion rings, the Latin Mass, and the difficulty of parallel parking an Audi within a single textual analysis, but it's now part of our collective memory. In one single cut to black, David Chase's series cemented its place in pop culture history, and Victoria Principal didn't even have to find James Gandolfini in her shower.

(Shudder.)

Nectar Restaurant -- note for Cincy readers

The Sweet Partner in Crime and I went for a birthday celebratory dinner at Nectar, a very nice restaurant on Mt. Lookout Square. After our meal, this place rocketed into the top three or four places we've eaten in town since we've moved here. Julie Francis' place treated us extremely well. Their oft-changing seasonal menu is largely created from locally grown and/or organic ingredients.

For appetizers, we had their sautéed fresh calamari and their charcuterie (FoodSpeak for "bunch of various fresh meat items") plate, which included prosciutto, organic chicken liver mousse, homeade pickles, and whole grain mustard. The range of flavors was absolutely fantastic. We did hanger steak and duck for entrees. When perfectly done duck is the "least good" thing you've got in front of you -- it's a happy time.

Why include this particular restaurant recommendation? (Besides, of course, that we were ecstatic about the quality of the food?) The wine list was very affordable. Nothing under $15, of course, but you expect that kind of markup when you go out to dinner. You're not going to find any $200 bottles of wine on the list there, but you really don't need to. The wines are all basic, simple, affordable and complement the food wonderfully. Our server did us the favor of letting us interview a couple of wines before our entrees came out.

If you're local or coming to town -- do check them out. It's well worth your dinner (or brunch) dollar.

Turning Back the Clock -- Chenin Blanc

The 70's. Sit back and smell the polyester.

Imagine looking in the avocado-colored fridge of any groovy, shag-carpeted urban apartment. You'll find a bottle or jug of white wine -- probably either Krug or Gallo. In script on the label -- "Chenin Blanc." (The red in the cabinet above the fridge is no doubt a "Burgundy," but we've covered that…) Merlot's "Sideways" downturn pales in comparison to the utter destruction of Chenin Blanc in the U.S. for years by this marketing ploy.

A shame. Chenin Blanc may have fallen from the ranks of the more popular wines -- but it's a pretty incredible grape. Chenin Blanc may be the most versatile grape on the planet. Winemakers put together everything from sparkling wine to crisp, flavorful whites to some of the best dessert wines in the world. Chenin Blanc grows almost anywhere, as well.

The best Chenin Blanc is grown in the Loire Valley in France. The dessert wines from the Loire rival even Sauternes for renown. The best Chenin table wines in the Loire come from Vouvray. Chenin Blanc is the third-most cultivated grape in California and is the most widely grown grape in South Africa.

Unfortunately, the ease of growing this grape has resulted in a great lack of care in some places, leading to some truly forgettable wines. Luckily, winemakers and consumers are starting to move past the wide lapel era into modern times, where there's some good white to be had. Done correctly, Chenin Blanc is an incredibly food friendly, drinkable wine. One of the few positives (for us) of the "Chenin Stigma" is that you'll be able to find a very good wine at a very reasonable price. Here's an example of what can be done:

Vinum Cellars 2005 "Chard-No-Way" Chenin Blanc -- Vinum Cellars was founded by a couple of buddies from UC Davis that went into the wine industry. The two of them decided to help the world rediscover this lost grape. They make their wine in Napa, in the heart of Chardonnay country -- hence the name of the wine. You start with a nose of tart apples and grapefruit. It has an extremely light body (in my mind, almost too light). However, after a quiet start, the acidity and tartness pick up along with flavors of pineapples or similar fruit. The finish is fairly long and quite tart. Vinum's creation is an ideal crisp, refreshing poolside wine. You could pair this easily with almost any light seafood or with wine killers like asparagus or artichokes. $11-14.

Indaba 2005 Chenin Blanc -- South Africa is growing great amounts of Chenin Blanc, with no end in sight as the wine gains popularity worldwide. "Indaba" is Zulu for "a community discussion." This would be an appropriate beverage for any kind of social gathering to get the words flowing. The Indaba is considerably stronger in scent than the Vinum. Citrusy. The body is considerably heavier than the first, which is a good thing if you ask me. The wine is slightly sweet at first, but then gets quickly tart. If I'd not been told, I would have mistaken it for a light, complex sauvignon blanc. The finish is quite easy -- a little bit of honey and tartness. Spicy food, like satay or Thai, would go wonderfully -- as would something like pizza. Shellfish, as with most Chenins, work well. The acidity allows it to stand up to just about anything. And at $5-7, how can you go wrong?

Chateau de Villeneuve 2005 Saumur -- The Saumur region of the Loire Valley is the home of the best sparkling wines made from Chenin, but their still wines are quite good as well. Among our wines this time, this one was an interesting contrast. The Saumur has an interesting "yeasty" nose, which isn't as unpleasant as it sounds. This aroma is caused by leaving the wine "sur lie" -- meaning "on the lees." "Lees" is WineSpeak for "remaining dead yeast after fermentation." Before the whole "buttery" malolactic fermentation craze began, leaving a wine on the lees was one way to make the flavor creamier. There's also a little apple on the nose. The flavor is light-bodied, with creamy flavors of pear and vanilla. The flavor is very smooth, but picks up a nice tart finish -- which would allow it to pair wonderfully with any kind of shellfish, salad, or light pasta. I baked some scallops in foil with veggies, and it was fabulous. $11-13.

Until next time, bite the bullet, put the leisure suit away, and relax in the summer sun with some Chenin. Cheers!

Back to the Boot

I'm still getting the hang of Italian wines.

When "in the know" wine folks talk about the "finest wines in the world," the debate generally centers on Italy and France. Wine connoisseurs talk about Italian wines' unmatched complexity, the wonders of aging for decades, the depth of flavor, the sheer artistry that is the ancient craft of winemaking in Italy.

The first time I tasted Barolo, the Italian "wine of kings," I nearly choked. THIS is supposed to be the best wine in the world?" Granted, I've come a long way. As time's gone by, I've worked on my learning curve of appreciation for the -- shall we say -- interesting flavors of Italian and French wine.

Also, like many people, I usually considered Chianti (as I did at the Vine's early roots) when ordering or making Italian. Of course, there's a lot more to Italian food than the familiar Tuscan recipes we often see, so don't paint yourself into a corner -- all due respect to Chianti, of course.

When the SPinC and I did our first Italian wine and food pairing cookfest, we discovered many Italian wines are either very affordable or very expensive -- there's not a lot in between. Finding wines that are decent, drinkable, and affordable is a challenge. In the $10-15 range, there's surprisingly little. You've got your very inexpensive wines, and then you've got your garden variety Barolo, which will run you $50 or more. (Although I found a very decent Barolo at Trader Joe's for $25 that was divine with a roasted lamb steak.) Research is necessary.

When I think about buying Italian wine, I keep a few simple things in mind:

1) Italians are foodies. They have been for millennia. They're also fiercely territorial. If you ever get into a food conversation with just about anyone of Italian heritage, they'll tell you the food on "Nonna's table" was REAL Italian. As I've mentioned before, people make wines that go with whatever they happen to be cooking -- so if you know the menu, choose accordingly. Italian wines, like French wines, are generally named for the place they're made, so let that be your guide.

2) Just as Italians made wine to complement the food they were making at the time, they also made their wine to go best with food. I have yet to run into many Italian wines that I would have as a "drink at the end of the day" wine. Put them with the right food, and squisto!

3) Decant, decant, decant. Italian wine is built to age, so when you open it, you need to let it wake from its slumber. A good rule of thumb for the wines we'll be looking at is to crack the bottle 20-30 minutes before you pour.

Here are a few alternatives:

Ruffino 2005 Orvieto Classico ($7-10) -- Orvieto is in Umbria, one of Tuscany's neighboring provinces. Umbria is entirely landlocked, about in the "calf" of the boot. Foodwise, Umbria is known for pork products like salami and prosciutto, lots of vegetables, and earthy additions like mushrooms and truffles. The city of Orvieto is known largely for its white wine. One of the first wine books I really looked at was by Kevin Zraly. He said, "The Italians traditionally do not put the same effort into making their white wines that they do with their reds…and they are the first to admit it." But there's money in the global white wine market continues to globalize, and the Italians are taking advantage.

The Ruffino has a nice nose -- light and floral with a scent of honey. It's fruity, slightly citrusy, but not incredibly dry -- in the ballpark of a rich Sauvignon Blanc. It had a refreshing finish with a little citrus tang and smooth flavors of melon. Like Sauvignon Blanc, this would be a very food friendly wine. Foodwise, think about light pork or rich chicken dishes, meaty fishes, or even salads. The acidity in this wine would be able to stand up to things like asparagus.

Pala Triente 2004 Cannonau Di Sardegna ($11-13) -- That's "Sardinia" to we barbarians. I've heard a lot of people confuse Sardinia and Sicily. Sicily is the island perpetually getting booted. Sardinia is the island halfway up the boot off the Eastern coast. While the cuisine of Sardegna is steeped in fish, much of it is hearty and savory, both with meat (roast boar on a spit is a national tradition) and vegetables (stews and soups with earthy vegetables and beans).

This wine is largely (95%) made from the Cannonau grape, known to the rest of the world as Grenache -- the other 5% is other native varietals. Interesting to note -- this is a macerated wine. Maceration is the same process the French use to make Beaujolais. The result is a very interesting red. When poured, it's extremely light and the nose is very fragrant. It reminds me of a Beaujolais cru. The flavor is very Italian -- earthy, with berries calling for food. The finish then turns a little bit dry. We had this with a spicy chicken chili. You could certainly have it with a red sauced pasta, aged cheese, or fish in a nice sauce.

Michele Chiarlo 2004 Barbera D'Asti ($12-14) -- First off, the "Asti" does not refer to sweet champagne here. It's a town in the Piedmont province in northernmost Italy nestled against the Alps (Piedmont translates as "the foot of the mountains"). The Piedmont produces much of the very expensive wine I mentioned earlier. The nebbiolo grape is used to make Barolo and Barbaresco, the most prized wines of Italy. Fortunately, some of the "lesser" wines are more than adequate. Piedmont cooking is very earthy. Truffles are a major export of the area. Lots of cream, butter, garlic, and cheese find their way into the meals. Olives and rice are also produced in quantity.

I find the Barbera produces a wine like a fruity, amped Cotes-du-Rhone. There's a nice nose on this wine. It's a slightly alcoholic, very fruity, floral experience. The flavor is full of bright fruit -- like a cross between Beaujolais and a Cotes-du-Rhone. The finish is easy and fruity -- cherries and blackberries. We tried this with a pasta with an olive tapenade and seared tuna -- it was wonderful, just as it was with some chocolate covered dried fruit we had. Pair it with just about anything that includes some of the above ingredients and you'll be just fine. Also, like Beaujolais or Cotes-du-Rhone, you could drink it on its own.

Until next time…buon' appetito!

Greetings to Greensboro!

In the midst of putting Wine School together, I completely forgot to announce the Vine's latest branch. So, without further ado, I'd like to welcome in Yes Weekly of Greensboro, NC. They're the first willing to give me a run weekly. Many thanks to them and a hearty welcome to the good folk from the Gate City. Cheers!

Wine School! (Class #8 -- Riesling)

Riesling -- the crowd pleaser.

In my CinWeekly interview, I mentioned Riesling as my favorite wine of the moment. I mentioned it's "the most flexible," meaning one can find a Riesling to pair with almost anything. Since I love to cook and love to eat even more -- it's a natural.

I wasn't a big fan of whites for a long time. I'd drink them, sure -- and it was nice to have something cold around the house, but I chilled them almost to freezing and basically used like light beer. Once I started learning about wine, I grew to tolerate them. I thought most were too tart or too oaky. I discovered good Riesling and my eyes opened. Riesling was my gateway white.

Among U.S. wine drinkers, "Riesling" meant "syrupy-sweet German wine" for a very long time. As I discussed in my Riesling column, that's an unfortunate stereotype. While the grape is of German origin and the most expensive Rieslings are dessert wines -- the majority of decent Riesling out there isn't going to pucker your mouth. If you'd like a primer on deciphering Riesling, refer to the "Raise Your Riesling Steins" entry and you'll get a good idea.

For our tasting, I decided I'd try to put my advice to first hand application. On my birthday, I did a wine tasting for my family. The cast of characters:

• My father and mother -- neither of whom are big drinkers. They have the occasional glass of wine, but rarely have any around the house.
• My sister and brother-in-law -- also occasional wine drinkers, but the usual drink of choice at their place is Michelob Ultra.
• The Sweet Partner in Crime.
• My 95 year old grandmother who almost never drinks -- except for an occasional glass of Manischewitz.

They were faced with:

• Pierre Sparr 2004 Riesling (France) -- $11-14
• J & H.A. Strub 2005 Riesling Kabinett (Germany) -- $13-15
• Salmon Run 2005 Riesling (New York) -- $11-14

I'd rather my party did most of the talking.

We started with the Sparr. My grandmother's initial comment was "This is sour. I like sweet wines." My mom and sister thought "bitter apple" was a good description of it. The most colorful description was from my brother in law: "It's kind of got an odor in your mouth. It tastes like…I'd say…rubbing alcohol smells. Not that I drink rubbing alcohol or anything."

Rieslings like the Sparr from in the Alsace region are traditionally very dry. Part of this is due to the terroir, but most Alsatian wines are in this style. French Rieslings also improve with a little age, so this wine would have been very different after two or three more years. These wines have some fruit to them, but they're generally much more acidic than other Rieslings. I remembered Alsatian wines generally go well with shellfish. We still had some shrimp cocktail from lunch, so away we went. The wine's acidity worked extremely well with the shrimp. Everyone liked it. I'd imagine this would be a great choice at a raw bar.

Next, the Salmon Run. My grandmother liked this one "better than the first one." My brother-in-law thought it was "pleasant" and he said it "didn't have any nasty taste." My mother said it was a wine you could easily "drink too much of on a sunny day." My dad said only, "Fuller, fruitier." My sister said it was "tangy, but sweet."

American Rieslings tend to be middle-of-the-road. While they're not quite sweet enough to handle heavy food, they are good everyday wines. Most of the U.S. Rieslings you'll see will be from California, but the Finger Lakes region of New York is now cranking out some very good versions. Finger Lakes Rieslings generally have enough acidity to handle a broad variety of foods, and they're very easy to drink. If you're going to a party and don't know what to bring, this is a safe bet. With this particular wine, you'll get a lot of pear and apple flavor and a long, smooth finish.

Finally, the Strub. A German Riesling Kabinett tends to be on the sweet side. My grandmother indicated the wine "smelled and tastes sweet." My brother in law said the body tastes "like when you eat a bunch of sweet candy…you get that thick taste in your mouth." My mother thought it would be too heavy for food. My sister said it tasted like pears. My father reclined, saying little, contemplative. Perhaps the accumulated effect of wine, cognac, and Kahlua got to him.

This wine is very German. It would go very well with traditional Rhine-style cooking. Spaetzle, beef & pork sausages, and sauerkraut would be a natural pairing. It could also accompany anything spicy. Thai, Indian, Chinese, Mexican -- any of them would work well. As the SPinC put it: "Anything that would go with beer would go with this."

So ends our tour of the big six. A friend of mine contacted me a couple of months ago -- he told me about the "century club," a group of people who pride themselves on tasting 100 different varietals. I think that's a noble goal, but let's be honest. Unless you've got a lot of time and money, probably 90% of the wines you drink on a regular basis will fall into one of these six.

I hope you've enjoyed this, picked up some good information, and you'll feel a little more comfortable when faced with a wine list. I invite you to share of your own observations in the comments.

Cheers, everyone!

Wine School! (Lesson #7 -- Syrah/Shiraz)

Syrah -- the juicy grape.

Our final red class focuses on Syrah. (Or Shiraz, if you prefer -- same grape.) Of the three reds, syrahs are biggest and fruitiest. Now, I use "biggest" to mean the fullest body -- not necessarily the strongest flavor. Think of Chardonnays. The Kendall-Jackson had the fullest body, but the Alamos had the strongest flavor.

I had a misconception about Syrah. I was under the impression that the French cultivated Syrah, and after transport to Australia, gained its more common name, Shiraz. Nope. The French actually changed the name. The grape's name comes from the city of Shiraz in Southern Iran, the possible origin of winemaking over 7,000 years ago.

A French crusader brought the vines back to Europe and withdrew to his home for the remainder of his life to cultivate it -- thus earning the wine made from French Syrah its first appellation -- "Hermitage." In the 1830's, the grape was brought to Australia, where it regained its original name and eventually became the most-planted grape Down Under. American growers tend to name their wine depending on which style it most resembles. "New World" styles are usually called "Shiraz."

Syrah creates wines that tend to be fruity (and I mean dark fruit -- like blackberries and plums) and peppery. Syrah is the backbone grape (along with Grenache) of many wines in the Rhone region of France. The wine usually tastes "heavier" and goes well with big foods. Oh, and chocolate! For my money -- I personally think that the flavors of syrah complement chocolate better than any other varietal.

Syrah is considerably less tannic than Cabernet Sauvignon, and so doesn't generally age as well. Some vintages age better than others, but, generally, Syrah really comes into its own after about 3-4 years.

During a springtime of craziness, the Sweet Partner in Crime and I ended up with a free weekend that turned out to be unseasonably cool. Not willing to waste a perfect opportunity, we decided to cook up a few different pairings for the syrah. Our lineup was:

Estancia 2003 Central Coast Syrah -- $9-11
E. Guigal 2004 Cotes du Rhone -- $11-13
Penfold's 2003 Koonunga Hill Shiraz -- $9-11

We cracked the Estancia first and gave it a swirl. Smelled like smoke and alcohol, tasted like spiked grape juice. Much like the cabernet, decanting was necessary. However, once you open a syrah, you're committed. Even if you vacuum-seal a bottle, the big fruit taste fades rapidly, so plan to finish within 2-3 days, tops.

After about 20 minutes, we tried again. First up, the Estancia. After decanting, the smoky scent was still there, but much more gently. Instead, a strong dark berry aroma took center stage. The full body of this wine was loaded with big flavors of blueberry. The finish was fruity and was the least dry of the three. The finish is best described as "smoked blueberries."

Moving on to the Guigal. Cotes-du-Rhone is typically a blend of Syrah and Grenache. These are the "generic" wines of the Rhone region -- usually because their grapes are from all over the area, not because they're inferior wines. I find them to be good "starter" wines if you want to start tasting French wines. They don't have as much of the "Old World Funk" I mentioned before.

The Guigal's nose was light, with some berries and flowers. Since it's a blend, the Grenache made the wine lighter than a straight syrah. The taste was less fruity as well -- instead yielding more of an earthy flavor. The finish was somewhat dry, "leathery," and slightly chalky. While the description may not sound appealing, Cotes-du-Rhone really shows its colors when matched with food, like many European wines. And it certainly was drinkable on its own.

Finally, the Penfold's. This Australian number also had a fruity nose, but with a leather and vanilla scent backing it up. The body was second in line here, with a smoky flavor and a taste like figs or prunes -- not sweet fruits as with many Syrahs. The finish was full of vanilla and pepper.

We tried different recipes on three consecutive nights. With a warm, spicy lentil dish, the big winner (not surprisingly) was the Guigal. Earth goes with earth, and Cotes-du-Rhone is tailor-made to pair with root vegetables and legumes.

We made a slow-cooker dish called tzimmes the next night. Tzimmes is a Jewish casserole, made by slow-braising a roast with vegetables and fruit, seasoned with honey and cinnamon. So, while meaty and earthy, there's a lot of sweetness. The Estancia was the best pairing here. If it had been a simple pot roast, I'd guess the Guigal would have been the call.

Our final meal was mustard-coated lamb with rosemary-garlic potatoes. The Estancia is not recommended here. The other two wines ran neck and neck, but the Penfold's took the title by a nose. The peppery flavor of this wine meshed really well with the mustard and the richness of the meat.

We discovered with chocolate that the Guigal isn't built to handle dessert. The chalkiness comes out, but not much else. The Estancia really brings out the cacao flavor -- the deep bittersweetness of the bean, almost like coffee. The Penfold's was fascinating. The flavors went through transformations, with varying, shifting intensities of fruit, tartness, and bitterness. We felt as if we were tasting the component flavors individually.

One last note -- you may see a varietal called "Petit Sirah." While a distant cousin, it's a very different grape than Syrah -- one that yields wines that are even bigger and much more tannic.

One lesson remains. The final white -- Riesling.

Class dismissed.

"First Saturday in May" -- bonus entry!

If you can't identify the reference, you're clearly not a Kentuckian. Not that there's anything wrong with that -- but y'all need some educatin'...

The Kentucky Derby is held the first Saturday in May each year. This year is the 133^rd running at Churchill Downs in Louisville. (However, if you want to really experience Thoroughbred racing, drive an hour and a half to the east and go to Keeneland in Lexington during Spring and Fall meets. You'll understand…)

The Kentucky Derby is:

• The best horses in the world.
  
• The most amazing hats you'll ever see.
  
• 100,000 of your closest friends on the infield.
• Burgoo.
• Mint juleps.
  

The backbone of a mint julep, of course, is bourbon. One of my favorite columnists is Mark Morford of the San Francisco Chronicle. He once made a somewhat disparaging comment about bourbon, specifically Maker's Mark, in one of his columns, and he was a big enough man to do some research about Kentucky's contribution to the world of spirits and understand he was mistaking bourbon for ordinary whiskey. (He also gave me some fabulous scotch recommendations -- but that's another story.)

So what's the difference? For a whiskey to call itself "bourbon," there are several criteria it has to meet -- relating to production, aging, composition, and so on. The process is exacting -- so don't let anyone tell you that Jack Daniels is bourbon. It's not. And should be treated as such.

Bourbon is a sipping drink. Good bourbons are best either neat (LiquorSpeak for "poured into a glass, mixed only with air"), on the rocks, or cut with a splash of water. The first two are the way I usually take mine.

I did a taste test with four "midrange" bourbons. The really inexpensive stuff, for my taste, isn't good for much of anything except doing shots and baking. (That's your Ancient Age, Ten High, Beam, Evan Williams, et al.) The expensive stuff is…well…expensive. But here are four that you'll likely find on any liquor store shelf.

Maker's Mark -- You can't miss Maker's. The distinctive bottle shape. The red wax. The font on the label. And, of course, the flavor. Maker's uses a higher percentage of winter wheat as a main grain in the mash, which produces a very smooth, distinctive flavor. Makers has a nose that's slightly smoky and has a strong vanilla component. The flavor, even neat, is smooth and balanced with a nice warmth at the end. Unlike some bourbons, the "warmth" doesn't catch in your throat. There's a slight smokiness, too. I think it's a very pleasant drink. $20-26 for a fifth.

Wild Turkey 101 Proof -- Ah, the "Kickin' Chicken." In the interest of full disclosure, this was the first alcohol that I ever…shall we say…overimbibed, and it turned me off bourbon until I was an older and wiser man. Wild Turkey is the transition between the cheap stuff I mentioned above and the better grades of bourbon. Still, it's pretty common, so I'll include it. Tasting it after the Maker's was a shock. The scent of alcohol on the nose is much, much stronger. The nose is also "heavier" and smokier. The taste is hot and smoky. Now, if you cut it with a splash of water, you're going to have more of an easy time, and there's some nice vanilla and caramel flavors that I didn't expect. Still, it's not my favorite, even after all these years. $15-23 for a fifth.

Woodford Reserve -- Among Kentucky bourbon drinkers, there's a definite split. There are Maker's drinkers. There are Woodford drinkers, and rarely the twain shall meet. There's good reason for this -- apparent when you taste it. Woodford has a wonderful nose -- almost floral, with scents of cedar and vanilla. It's a smooth drink -- and is much more sweet than the others here. It's not as smoky, but to my palate -- not nearly as flavorful as many other bourbons. Don't get me wrong, it's good stuff -- but it's not going to be as interesting flavorwise. Woodford Reserve is also made by Brown-Forman, the company that brings you Jack Daniels, Herradura, Canadian Mist, Early Times, Fetzer, and others. $20-29 for a fifth.

Buffalo Trace -- Buffalo Trace is one of the more recent entries into this price point of bourbons. The nose is very clean, almost nearing the scent of scotch. It's almost "mossy" -- not quite peaty like a scotch. The taste, however, loses the little caramel in the heat of the alcohol. Cut with a little water, however, you get a smooth vanilla taste as the smoke and alcohol get balanced out a little bit. $16-25 for a fifth.

Again, in the interests of full disclosure, I'm a Maker's drinker by habit, as any of my friends will tell you. Of the bourbons of this type, it's my favorite -- especially in winter during basketball season. As for Derby time, I also think Maker's is the best backbone for mint juleps. Many people swear by Woodford for juleps, but since Woodford is already sweet, I think adding the requisite simple syrup overpowers the flavor with sugar. (I'll toot my own horn…my juleps are peerless.)

If you're ever lucky enough to find yourself in the Bluegrass, you owe it to yourself to take the road trip down the bourbon trail. You can tour the Maker's, Woodford Reserve (actually, Labrot & Graham), and Buffalo Trace distilleries -- and for bourbon aficionados and turistas alike, seeing the history and learning about the spirit of the spirit is well worth the drive. (Although be forewarned, Loretto, KY -- where Maker's is distilled -- is a dry county…)

Also, slipping out of Vine character for a bit -- there are some premium bourbons worth splurging on. Some of my favorites are the "B's": Blanton's, Baker's, and Basil Hayden's. If you can find a bottle of Pappy Van Winkle's 15 year, I'd put that up against the finest scotches. And then there's a whiskey not technically a bourbon, but well worth a try -- Bernheim Wheat Whiskey. Trust me…the stuff is sweet music. Bernheim was created by the grandfather of Miss Judy, one of my dear friends.

For those of you who haven't yet recognized the First Saturday in May as the holiday it truly is -- give some of these a try. You'll start to understand. And if you don't, you'll have fun trying.

Until next time -- place your bets…

Wine School! (Class #6 -- Chardonnay)

Chardonnay, the ubiquitous white.

Chardonnay is the United States' most popular wine -- and perhaps the most popular in the world, but I haven't been able to run down the exact ranking. (If anyone has a reference, send it along!) Walk into almost any neighborhood bar or five-star restaurant anywhere in the country. Nine times out of 10, the "house white" will be a Chardonnay.

The history of Chardonnay is somewhat unclear, but there is a town of the same name in Mâcon in the Burgundy region of France. A group of monks in Chardonnay were the first to cultivate the grape for "mass production and distribution." Today, almost any white from Burgundy will be almost entirely produced from the Chardonnay grape.

Chardonnay is an incredibly versatile grape that grows almost in any soil and in any climate. While it's a hardy, flexible grape -- the flavor changes radically depending on its terroir. Chardonnays from cooler climates tend to be crisper and tarter, while warmer climes produce fruitier, creamier styles.

To keep things simple, you can expect to run into three basic flavor profiles of Chardonnay: minerally, oaky, and buttery. Here's an illustration of each:

Louis Jadot 2005 Mâcon-Villages (France) -- $9-11
Alamos 2005 Chardonnay (Argentina) -- $9-11
Kendall-Jackson 2005 Vintner's Reserve Chardonnay (California) -- $12-14

First up is the crisp taste of the Louis Jadot. In French wine nomenclature, the best wines are named after their particular chateau or town where the vineyard is planted. Pouilly-Fuissé is known as the home of the best white Burgundies. The name actually refers to two towns, between which lie the vineyards. These wines tend to run $25 and up. However, "Mâcon-Villages" means that the grapes can be from anywhere in Mâcon -- the region in which Pouilly and Fuissé are located. For my money, a Mâcon-Villages is every bit as good at less than half the cost.

This wine has a very light nose -- citrusy and light, with a little scent of something like licorice. The taste is very clean and a little tart, like green apples. The finish is very crisp and pleasant. This is a classic French Chardonnay, which tastes almost more like Sauvignon Blanc than Chardonnays from other places in the world. It's extremely refreshing and light.

Next, we'll let the Argentinean Chardonnay give us the "oak" profile. Over the last several years, Argentina has become known for Malbec on the red side, and Chardonnay on the white. As with much of South America, you can find great wine values from there without trying too hard.

The Alamos starts with a nose of ripe peaches, but the taste shifts radically. As crisp and light as the French version is, this one is much bigger. The flavor is of peaches, toasted almonds, and smoke. You can't miss the oak here. You'll know exactly from here on out what someone's talking about when they mention oaky. The finish is smoky and lasts a long time.

Finally, bring in the butter. California chardonnays almost became parodies of themselves through much of the 90's, as the winemakers went completely overboard with "oaking" their wines. They've settled down a bit, and the "buttery" Chardonnay is becoming more common among California wines. As I mentioned in Lesson #2, the "buttery" flavor is from a process called malolactic fermentation. Some California winemakers are swinging to the other end of the spectrum and producing "unoaked" Chardonnays -- their attempts to get back to the Burgundy tradition.

The Kendall-Jackson smells sweeter and heavier than the Alamos, much more like peach cobbler than peaches. The flavor has a little bit of sweetness and some more of that peach flavor, but it's got a very creamy vanilla taste as well. Again, in comparison to the Alamos -- the oakier wine had a stronger flavor, but the buttery one was richer and fuller. There was a little bit of oak on the finish, held in check by the creaminess.

What to eat with these? If I were drinking one on its own, I'd go with the Louis Jadot. I'd also have this with just about any kind of lighter fish or shellfish dish. An oaky chardonnay will pair more effectively with something smokier, like grilled chicken or veggies, or even a filet if you want white with a steak. The buttery chardonnay -- predictably, goes more effectively with creamier sauces, richer fishes, and almost anything you can picture with butter.

We made a rich fish dish when we did our tasting. The Sweet Partner in Crime liked the Kendall-Jackson, although I thought the Alamos made an interesting pairing. So, in short, experiment and find what you like. There's a Chardonnay out there for almost everyone.

Next up, we dare return to big red territory -- Syrah.

Class dismissed.

Welcome, Fort Wayne!

Whatzup, the entertainment weekly of the Summit City, started running The Naked Vine in print this week. While not quite as notable as the playing of the first major league baseball game, we at the Vine aim to be the official wine advice column for The Landing, the new NBDL franchise, and all the wine drinkers of Allen County. Welcome! Kick back. Grab a glass and enjoy...