The Naked Vine -- Live!

A special message for Vine readers in the Cincinnati metro area (and beyond if you want to make a road trip!) :

Come join me at D.E.P.'s Fine Wine (formerly Liquor Direct) in Covington and Ft. Thomas on Friday and Saturday, respectively. I'll be doing a live demonstration based on my last column -- I'll be demonstrating my take on the differences between Pinot Grigio & Pinot Gris and Syrah & Shiraz. I'll throw in a pinot noir for good measure.

No cost, either...Free is good! I'll be at the Covington store from 4-8 pm on Friday evening and at the Ft. Thomas location from 2-6 on Saturday afternoon. Come on by, say hello, and the tastes are on me. Well, at least the tastes are *by* me...

The Flipside of Syrah -- Pinot Grigio/Pinot Gris

I did a little background piece back in the Wine School days on the difference between syrah and shiraz. Which is to say, there isn't one. Same grape. What matters is terroir, vinification, and the whims of winemakers. You may remember the basic rule: "Syrah" is the grape's name in France, where it, along with Grenache, is the backbone of many Rhone reds. French Syrah tends to be deep and earthy. "Shiraz" is the name in Australia Those wines tend to be fruitier, bolder, and less tannic. The American tradition, such as it is, is usually to tag the wine with whichever "profile" the flavor more closely resembles.

Red wines aren't alone in this multiple monickering of single grapes. Look over on the other side of the wine store, and you'll see one of the more common dual named wines -- Pinot Grigio & Pinot Gris. Now yes, I realize it's just a language difference between Italian and French -- but there's a similar process at work.

A quick aside: Pinot Gris is a "cousin" varietal to Pinot Noir. "Pinot" is French for "pine tree," which is the general shape of the tiny-berried clusters of grapes. The difference in their names stems from the color of the fruit. One is dark ("noir" is French for "black"), the other is more grayish ("gris" and "grigio" are Italian & French for "grey").

There's actually a third grape in the family, pinot blanc, but it's not grown very widely. If you see a wine labeled "pinot blanc," it can be made from Pinot Blanc, Pinot Gris, Pinot Noir fermented as a white, Auxerrois Blanc, or any blend of the four.

Anyhoo, I digress...back to pinot gris and pinot grigio. Both wines' styles are light, usually citrusy, and quite easy to drink. So easy, in fact, some of them are so light that some of the more inexpensive of either give you the experience drinking flavored, slightly alcoholic water. In general, this wine is made to be drunk young -- usually within a couple of years of bottling. The varietal has been tagged with this "don't think, just drink and work on your tan" image for quite some time. Thankfully, any number of winemakers now treat these grapes with a little more care, and versions worth taking seriously are readily available.

I can already hear you asking, "Other than the language of the grape's name, is there any real difference between the two?" The answer is yes. Italian Pinot Grigio tends to be light, have a distinct citrus character, and be very crisp. French Pinot Gris usually has a more floral nose, more mineral flavors, and usually a little more fruit and honey on the body. Versions from the rest of the world tend to follow the naming convention of the region that the flavor most resembles. For instance:

Start with Italian pinot grigio. Much of Italy's pinot grigio is grown in the Veneto, the area around Venice. I tried the Zenato 2008 Pinot Grigio della Venezie ($13) as one example. The nose is pleasantly light and peachy. It's not in the least bit watery, and certainly has some weight, with a little bit of a sugary undertone. This gets followed by more peachy flavors with an edge that tastes a little like orange peel. The finish starts soft, but eventually becomes tart, crisp, and dry.

Along those lines, if you look at an American version, you'll see many of the same characteristics. The Estancia 2008 Pinot Grigio is from California. Like its Italian counterpart, it's a citrusy, high-acid wine. Even so, it's a slightly fuller wine than the Zenato, although neither wine could be considered "heavy." Otherwise, there's a very similar flavor profile to the Italian, plus a little extra lemon on the finish.

The hub of French pinot gris production is Alsace. Alsace is famous for its dry, minerally Rieslings and Gewurztraminers. It seems like what little residual sugar is left in the country ends up in the pinot gris. These wines give you a "fuller" experience and can usually be aged a little longer than their Italian counterparts. These wines tend to be somewhat richer and more floral.

For instance, the Lucien Albrecht 2006 Cuvee Romanus Pinot Gris ($16). The nose is really "blossomy" and quite pretty. It has almost a metallic quality when initially poured, but that flavor dissipates quickly when it's had some time to breathe or been given a good swirl. What's left is a full fruity flavor. Pears and sweet apples dominate, rather than the strong citrus of the Italian versions. It still finishes reasonably crisply.

On the American side, I tried the Acrobat 2008 Oregon Pinot Gris ($12). I found a lot of the same characteristics here -- a floral nose, and a fuller body. While it is somewhat acidic, there's a lot more creaminess to this wine that you'd expect. Very nice structure and balance.

I'd really suggest that you do a pinot gris/pinot grigio side-by-side tasting, especially with summer just around the corner. Find out what you like best before the heat sets in! Also, as far as food pairings, trust the "home" regions. Pinot grigio will go well with anything light and traditionally Italian. We tried it with broiled rosemary shrimp, and it was scrumptious. As for pinot gris, it goes nicely with most of the things you'd think of with dry Rieslings and Gewurztraminers. It was very tasty with chicken and chickpea curry.

Guest Column: Wine & Dinner of the Month Club -- April

We’re back with the April installment of the Wine/Dinner of the Month Club for my lovely Christine. This month we took a trip to a Kentucky state park for a little weekend R&R. I don’t think the state parks allow alcohol so I can’t divulge the actual location, but it rhymes with Pine Mountain. We rented a log cabin which comes with a small kitchen outfitted with limited equipment, so we had to bring some of our own cookware and all of necessary ingredients for the meal. The wine this month was a dry, sparkler, which regular readers of TNV know is a very versatile wine, pairing with many different kinds of food. We decided on a brunch menu. Due to the limitations of the cabin kitchen, I kept it fairly simple, but the results were delicious and the wine was a delight.

Menu
Easy Quiche
Ten Minute Cinnamon Rolls
Sautéed asparagus

Wine
Les Rocailles Brut Sparkling Wine

I started by making the cinnamon rolls. About half-way through I realized we did not bring enough butter for the entire meal, so I sent Christine to the grocery store in town while I continued to work. The prep on the rolls took only about 15 minutes and they bake up in about 10 minutes, so I set the unbaked rolls aside while I made the quiche. As you can see, the recipe for the quiche is very simple with everything being mixed in one big bowl and then poured into a pie pan for baking. Baking the quiche took about 50 minutes, which gave me time to do a little clean up, and about ten minutes before it was done, I sautéed the asparagus. As you can see from the picture, the quiche came out lightly browned and bubbly-licious (yes, that’s a real word).

We plated everything up and had brunch on the cabin’s outer deck. We both loved the wine, the bubbles cutting through the egg and cheese of the quiche, letting all the flavors come through. It also went very well with the asparagus. But what about the cinnamon rolls?

After the quiche, we took a little break while I baked up the rolls. These are not the cinnamon rolls you may remember grandma making. There is no yeast in the mix so they come out more like cinnamon biscuits, but they are still very tasty. They came out of the oven golden brown and we let them cool just slightly before trying them with a little of the sparkling wine. I don’t think the sparkling wine was a particularly good match for the rolls. The sweetness of the rolls really overwhelmed the dryness of the wine. They were much better with the coffee we brewed up in the cabin’s drip coffee maker.

After the quiche, asparagus, rolls, coffee and a bottle of wine between the two of us, we took a long afternoon nap, like the slugs we were that weekend.


If I had to do anything different, I would have started the quiche and then made the cinnamon rolls. The 50 minutes it took to bake the quiche would have given me plenty of time to prep the rolls so they could be popped into the oven as soon as the quiche came out. No matter, it was still a great meal that kicked off a great weekend away. Next month we’ll no doubt be back at home with another delicious meal and wine pairing. Check back in to see what’s cooking!

The Alphabet Soup Project: "C" is for "Cooperage"

One of many wine-related befuddlements is trying to understand what the big deal is about oak. If you listen to some wine folks at (usually higher-end) tastings, as part of the oenological word salad that they're coming out with -- they make reference to oak, the amount of time spent in oak, oaky flavors, American oak, French oak, poison oak (well, maybe not), and occasionally "unoaked." I have a basic knowledge -- oak gives certain character to wines and the longer a wine spends in oak while in the aging stage after fermentation, the more pronounced those flavors flavor usually are. However, the subtle variations leave me rather lost in the forest for the trees.

[Please note: The Naked Vine takes no responsibility for any injury stemming from physical reactions to the bad metaphor in the last line. It just needed to be said.]

Let's start with the basics. Why age wine in barrels in the first place? They're potentially leaky, allow wine to evaporate, and grow and shrink with changes in temperature and humidity. We can make larger, cheaper containers out of steel or glass or polyurethane these days. Why do we insist on keeping this old tradition alive?

The main reason? It works. The barrel can be as much a part of a wine as the method of fermentation, the terroir, or the grape itself in some cases. When a wine is barrel aged, a number of things happen. First, wood is water-soluble. Even though the inside of a barrel is "toasted" to cure the wood, wine will invariably seep into the wood. The newly fermented wine absorbs various chemical compounds from the wood itself.

Also, barrel aging allows a slow oxidation of wine. Oxidation is why we swirl wine -- helping bring out certain flavors. Alcohol evaporates when exposed to oxygen, so some of the vapors find their way out through cracks in the wood. As the alcohol evaporates, the level of wine in the barrel drops. (In whiskey parlance, the evaporated alcohol is called "the angel's share.") Winemakers "top up" barrels with additional wine during the time in barrel.

Both of these actions add certain flavors and augment existing flavors in a wine. Tannins tend to get softened a bit in red wines, and both reds and whites gain complexity through the process.

The type of wood used in the making of the barrels plays a major role. ("Cooperage," in case you were wondering, is the making of barrels.) American oak, being a less dense wood than French oak, allows more seepage, thus imparting more characteristics from the barrel. New barrels impart more flavors than old barrels. Some varietals pick up more character from wood than others. The longer the wine stays in contact with the wood, the more flavor it picks up.

Some wines are aged entirely in one type of barrel. These are the ones you hear referred to as "100% American oak" and the like. Some batches of wine are aged piecemeal in several types of oak. Some are aged partly in oak and partly in stainless steel, cement or some other storage medium. (Some winemakers also cheat. Rather than truly barrel-aging, they age wines in steel tanks and add toasted oak chips to impart these character. This is a more cost-effective method, but it doesn't work as well...) All of these factors go into the winemaking process. A winemaker will determine what kind of wood, length of time, etc. will add the desired characteristics.

I asked some of my pals in the "biz" for their thoughts about the various types of oak. Their thoughts:

Danny Gold from The Party Source: "American oak can smother wines and make wines such as Chardonnay taste like 4x4's where a Chardonnay aged in French will be more floral with vanilla undertones. [I think] American oak will give a wine a woody backbone while French oak will give it romance."

Kevin Keith from D.E.P's Fine Wines: "I have often thought of it as a difference between deer meat from this area as opposed to Pacific Northwest or Cali. Around here, deer are corn fed so their meat is sweeter. I know that is weird. You could also think of it as American oak imparting a cocoa/vanilla spice as opposed to French lending more nutmeg and cinnamon."

What does this mean in real terms? Chardonnay (as Danny mentions above) may be the easiest way to examine the distinction. Chardonnay is the oenological version of vodka. It's the blank canvas that really takes on the character of where it's grown and how it's made. When it comes to oaky chardonnays, California's versions immediately pop to mind.

I did a little research and found four California chardonnays -- two aged in American oak and two in French -- all in the $10-15 range, so you could easily try this at home. I tried Kendall Jackson 2008 Vintner's Reserve Chardonnay, Bogle 2008 Chardonnay, Francis Coppola 2008 Gold Label Chardonnay, and Heron 2007 Chardonnay. The Bogle is 100% aged in American oak. The K-J is a mix of American and French. The Heron and Coppola were a 50/50 blend of French oak and stainless steel.

Now, this obviously isn't a truly scientific experiment. My pal Jim Voltz from Bond Street Imports suggested getting some varietally consistent wines from the same winemaker aged in various ways (and they carry a couple done just that way), but I didn't want to get too far afield...

What did we find? I expected the 50/50 mixes to be less oaky, but I was completely incorrect. Both the Coppola and the Heron were much more "toasty" than the ones aged in American oak. In fact, the Coppola was like drinking a charcoal briquette at first. Like really tannic reds, I think oaky chardonnays need some time in air to let the flavors come out -- otherwise, the oak tends to overwhelm. I thought Danny's observation was spot-on. The greater the percentage of French oak, the stronger the vanilla flavors. Even though American oak tends to impart more flavor, both the K-J and the Bogle were easier to drink overall. The "toasty" taste seemed fuller in the wines made with the French oak. It felt more broadly on my tongue.

The Heron was my favorite of the four, as I thought it had a little more complexity and the oak that was there wasn't as strong. The Heron also didn't do malolactic fermentation, which removed the "buttery" aspect -- so it had a more fruity taste.

The Sweet Partner in Crime had a hard time participating in this little exercise. She cut her white wine teeth on California chardonnays, but now she finds them "too much" for white wines. I also prefer wines that are more crisp than creamy, but I didn't mind these as much as she did.

What's the bottom line? Using oak can allow a winemaker to express his or her vision and wineries produce wines that they think people will enjoy. I just don't have enough experience looking at wines from a "wood" perspective. One observation I can make: French oak barrels are much more expensive than their American counterparts, so if a wine's notes include the use of French oak -- especially in a white wine -- you should be ready for that wine to "show off" the fact that it's been so oaked.

Just for fun, if you're presented with "this wine was aged in French oak," you come back with, "Yes, you can really get the vanilla notes, but the barrel may have been overtoasted," just to see the reaction.

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.

MEAC Annual Fundraiser -- "Wine & Wheels" -- This Friday!

Looking for a chance this weekend to get your wine tasting on? Want to support a really good cause? The Madisonville Education and Assistance Center (MEAC) is having its annual fundraiser on Friday evening. (For better or for worse, the event will be emceed by yours truly.) Admission to the event is $15. Last year, there were nearly a hundred wines to sample, so it's a fantastic deal. The relevant info:

MEAC’s annual wine tasting fundraiser, Wine and Wheels, will take place on April 23rd from 7:30 p.m. - 10:30 p.m. at the at the Volvo/Porsche/Maserati dealership located at 4113 Plainville Road, Cincinnati, OH 45227. Join us for this fun blind wine tasting with lite bites provided by area restaurants. Each team (up to 3 people) is asked to bring one bottle of Pinot Grigio and one bottle of Shiraz. Prizes will be given to the teams who bring the favorite red wine and the favorite white wine.

For more information about MEAC, click here. To register for the event, click here. Walk-ins are also welcome!

Tarrica Wine Cellars

Some of you who read my less-than-enthusiastic writeup of the last Cincinnati Wine Festival may remember that I still managed to run across a couple of wines I really enjoyed. One of the real finds at this little event was Tarrica. I did a double take when I tasted their merlot, and had a really nice conversation with their rep, Michael Gwin, about the wines, the winery, and sundry other things. Michael was good enough to set me up with a raft of their wines to sample.

Tarrica Wine Cellars is the 1999 creation of winemaker Sam Balakian, who named the winery after his two daughters, Taryn & Erica. Tarrica is located in Paso Robles -- a region gaining more and more national recognition outside of corkhead circles. Tarrica wines are made to be, in Balakian's words, "both affordable and immediately enjoyable." I could certainly speak for the first. All of the wines were listed between $9-15 (except for the petit sirah, which I've seen as high as $30).

So, how were they? As you might be able to ascertain, these are built to be solid wines you don't need to think about a great deal. Tarrica's selections aren't made to compete with the high-end stuuf from Paso, but they're certainly as good, if not better, than many California wines you'll find at similar price points.

I thought Tarrica stood out by...well...not having anything really stand out. For relatively inexpensive wines, I certainly noticed that they were crafted with balance in mind. Many of these bottlings succeeded on that front. Some were certainly better than others, in my opinion, but I'm certainly comfortable inviting you to see for yourself. Here's what we tasted, more or less in the order we tried them:

Tarrica 2007 Merlot -- Yep. I led off with this to make sure that I wasn't off base at the festival. I was instantly pleased, since it was almost exactly as I remembered. It tasted like a mainline Bordeaux, which I think is out of the ordinary. There's usually not a lot of earthy flavor in California wine, and this certainly has a bit of the "tasty funk." Now, I'm not talking Chateau Latour here or anything -- but for the price, I'd taste it blind against some $20-25 French bottles and probably fool a lot of folks. Good berry and floral nose with a solid tannic structure and excellent balance. Definitely recommended.

Tarrica 2009 Pinot Gris -- Fairly substantial body for a pinot gris. You can tell there's a little residual sugar, but it comes across as more of a honey flavor than simply sugary. It's got a lighter taste than the weight implies. Decent flavor with crisp acidity. When I first tried it, there was a little astringent nip at the finish, but that faded after the wine had been open for a few minutes. A decent enough pinot gris, just not out of the ordinary.

Tarrica 2008 White Zinfandel -- "I just can't do it." The Sweet Partner in crime looked askance at her glass. We don't usually allow this type wines into the nest unless I'm making sangria. In the name of science, though, I tried it. Like most white zins, it's quite sweet -- strawberries are the main fruit flavor initially. It does subdue itself a bit before finishing sugary. If you're into this sort of thing -- it's a good glass of white zin. I will admit, though -- I did end up making a spritzer out of the bulk of it.

Tarrica 2008 Chardonnay -- Very serviceable Chardonnay. Definitely made in a California style with the oak and butter, but neither get overwhelming. The nose is oaky, and the flavor is a good steady balance of fruit, butter, and oak. Nice smooth pear flavors on the palate. Good weight with a gently creamy, smoky finish. I'd certainly get it again.

Tarrica 2008 Riesling -- Not one of our favorites. A little heavy on the sweetness, but I'll readily admit to preferring drier style Riesling (unless I'm eating something really fiery, that is). I got apples on the nose and tongue. Sweet-ish finish. We had it with supermarket sushi, and it was decent, but I could have found a better one without too much difficulty.

Tarrica 2008 Pinot Noir -- Another very pleasant surprise! A very light-styled pinot that drinks best with just a hint of a chill. (A few minutes in the fridge after you open it will do the trick.) The nose is floral and delicate. Pinot noirs at this price tend to be either very fruity and almost thick or so light that there's barely any flavor. The Tarrica, however, is a very straightforward, well-constructed pinot. I got smoke and cherries all over the place, with a well-balanced flavor and a gentle finish. I really liked this wine, especially for the value.

Tarrica 2007 Petit Sirah -- If you think, "What would a petit sirah taste like if it were toned down a bit?" -- you'll understand where this wine is coming from. Bolder petits are more my speed, but it was a solid enough quaffer to have with evening chocolate. There was plenty of fruit, but that was more or less it -- not a lot of complexity and the tannins were light. I got blueberry flavors in a medium bodied wine, and the finish just sort of fades away. When I saw the price, however, I was surprised. There's a decent blueprint for a wine here, but I think it's probably better to wait a year or so until their yield gets better to try it again.

Tarrica 2008 Zinfandel -- The Tarrica "subtlety" motif certainly holds here. Definitely a smokier, more restrained wine than a lot of inexpensive California zins, which I don't see as a drawback. Not a fruit bomb by any measure. The nose has a strong vanilla tone. It remains a pretty muscular wine with plenty of fruit, but it's got smoky complexity and solid tannins, especially on the finish. Very drinkable and a very solid value. Grilled up a couple of steaks with this one and they went very well.

Tarrica 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon -- Nicely complex and another solid value. Plenty of blackberry on the nose with good black cherry and blackberry flavors. Not overly full-bodied, but very pleasant as a good "drinkin' cab" with its solid set of flavors. Good length on the finish with some lasting mild tannins. A perfect choice for a "third bottle" on an evening where you might be sharing some red wine and chocolate with good company.

Tarrica 2009 Sauvignon Blanc -- Peaches on the nose. Some mineral on the palate with a little more residual sugar than I usually like. Fruity rather than acidic on the finish. I'd certainly recommend it If you like softer, non-grapefruity sauvignon blancs. Otherwise, it's a  decent enough early evening/late afternoon quaffer.

Old Shandon Port Works Paso Robles Syrah Port -- One of two dessert wines that Tarrica offers up. I enjoyed this wine more a couple of days after I opened it. Right after opening, the sweetness was a little overpowering, but that backed off after a day and the wine grew more interesting. Some raspberry and chocolate flavors start showing up, the latter especially on the finish. The bottle reminded me, flavor-wise, of an Australian port. For a cold evening, it'll warm you up right enjoyably.

Tarrica "Koda" Dessert Wine -- Anyone who's followed this blog for any length of time knows that one of my tests of a red wine is trying it with something chocolate flavors. I was curious to see what would result when Tarrica took the above port and infused it with chocolate essence. The result? Well, I'll call it "interesting." The sweetness of the port runs a little roughshod over the chocolate flavors, which are pretty subtle. Long, chewy flavors and a warming glow at the end. I thought it was interesting and worth a try, and I think a lot of folks would probably like it if they're into dessert wines. I'd probably stick to getting the "component parts," however -- having the port and chocolate individually.

"White Smoke"

Fumé blanc.

Sounds interesting and a little exotic, doesn’t it? You may have seen a few bottles of it the last time you were perusing the “American whites” section of your local wine shop. Almost identical in body and color to sauvignon blanc, fumé blanc is the creation of Robert Mondavi in Napa. Mondavi decided to emulate the style of Pouilly-Fumé and Sancerre – two white wines from the eastern end of the Loire region in France.


If you want to get an idea of what he was shooting for, you might try something like Domaine du Salvard 2008 Cheverny. It's medium-weighted and rather complex. I got apples and melon on the nose, with a little whiff of yeast (which is as close as you'll get to "earthy" in a light white). I got honey and apples on the palate with a little bit of mineral. The finish is smooth, delicate, and very pleasant. ($15)

As the story goes, Mondavi was offered a particularly good parcel of grapes from a Napa grower. Mondavi thought that these particular grapes could work with his little experiment, so he followed the French techniques, fermented this new style of American wine, and sent it out under the name “Fumé Blanc” in 1968.


The public tried it, liked it, and they’ve been making it ever since, and any number of other winemakers followed suit. You can now find the stuff almost anywhere. But yes, dear readers, there’s a kicker…

This “new wine” sprung on the American public was, and is, nothing more than Sauvignon Blanc.

In the 60’s, there wasn’t a great deal of sauvignon blanc grown in the U.S. What little was grown usually ended up in cheap, sweet table wine, which is the association most people had if they'd even heard of it. Mondavi needed a good marketing angle to differentiate this new dry style he created from that good parcel of grapes, so he tagged it as “Fumé Blanc” – apocryphally named after the smoky morning mists in the hills of the Eastern Loire.

What does “fumé blanc” mean when you see it on a wine label in 2010? Honestly, very little – other than that you’re probably looking at a bottle of regular sauvignon blanc. There’s no legal definition of what is and what isn’t allowed to be so named. A general rule to follow is the syrah/shiraz distinction. Generally, if a California winemaker calls a wine “syrah” – they’re trying to make a wine in a French style. Same story with Fumé Blanc.

These wines often have a little bit of smokiness from barrel aging. They’re usually crisper and more minerally than a “typical” American sauvignon blanc. Also, like the French wines, some of them blend in a little bit of Semillon with the Sauvignon Blanc for balance. They’re also all relatively inexpensive. A couple of examples:


For starters, the Dry Creek Vineyard 2008 Fumé Blanc. This is a light, slightly citrusy quaffer. The nose is lemony and a little herbaceous. It's got a crisp, lemony finish with some lingering grapefruit flavors. Made from 100% Sauvignon Blanc, it reminds me more of a light-styled New Zealand Sauvignon than something from France. Interestingly, the reason that some winemakers choose to blend in a little Semillon is to knock down that herbaceousness a little. ($11)

One wine that follows the "Semillon formula" is the Hogue 2008 Columbia Valley Fumé Blanc. As with many white wines from Columbia Valley, this wine's a little more body-heavy and honey-tasting than the California versions of the same grapes. This one has more of a minerally taste and the finish is a bit "creamier," perhaps from the Semillon that's blended in. Crisp, apricot-flavored finish that's not quite as dry as the Dry Creek. I personally thought that this one tasted more like the Loire style. ($9)

A Quick Spanish Interlude

When I'm in a hurry to get home, I occasionally come to the realization that -- horror of horrors -- we're out of general dinner drinking wine. Yes, yes -- hard to believe, I know. That leaves me with two options. Either I can traipse down to the cellar and snag a bottle from our "occasion" wine stash, or I can duck into the wine store on the way home. The latter is usually the path of least resistance.

At such times, sometimes I don't have a wine type in mind other than general color. Something middle-of-the-road that doesn't get overwhelmed by whatever food's going to be on the table -- yet flexible enough if we end up calling a gustatory audible. There's also that "if it's not a special pairing, I don't want to spend a ton" aspect. When in doubt, I head down the Spanish aisle.

As I've mentioned a few times before, Spanish wine is some of the best inexpensive wine on the planet if you're looking for an easy food pairing. Spain gave us tapas, after all. If you're having wine with tapas, it's got to handle any number of spice, meat, and vegetable combos. Much Spanish wine that you'll find is going to be consistently decent.

Unfortunately, one major inconsistency in Spanish wine is in classification. While typically Spanish wine is named for the region, occasionally it's listed by grape, by bodega (think "chateau"), by winemaker, or just by pretty colored labels. Spanish labels often include a fairly long word salad in Español that I can't make much sense of which describes the quality classification. Let's simplify, shall we? Here's a quick glossary:

Color: Tinto, Blanco, and Rosado are "red," "white," and "rosé" respectively. Of course, you can probably tell this by actually looking at the wine itself. (Before I knew this, though -- I thought "tinto" was a grape.)

Region: There are more than 50 wine regions in Spain. In the States, however, there are a few you'll run into more than others. Rioja, Rias Biaxas, Ribera del Duero, Navarra, and Rueda are in the northern section of Spain. You may also see a few from Priorat or Penedes -- the latter of which is the source of most cava -- Spanish sparkling wine. In the south are Jumilla and Alicante. In the southwest is Jerez, the home of sherry. Most regions produce both red and white wines. The regional differences (outside of sherry and cava, of course) aren't as broad as in Italy or France, so you usually don't need to worry so much about this.

Age: Spanish wines historically were aged for quite some time. This is not always the case, but the naming conventions remain. Crianza means that a red wine has been aged for 2 years with at least 6 months of it in oak; whites and rosés -- 1 year with 6 months in oak. Reserva reds are aged for at least 3 years with at least a year in oak; whites are 2 years/6 months in oak. Gran Reserva reds are aged 5 years with 18 months in oak; whites are 4 years/6 months in oak. Wines with those designations tend to be a little pricier. If you don't see any of those designations, that means that there's probably been little or no barrel aging, and the wine is made to drink young.

Grapes: Spanish wines are made from hundreds of indigenous varietals, but there are a few used more widely. The bulk of red wines are made from either Tempranillo, Garnacha (Grenache), and Monastrell (Mourvedre). Whites are made from Albarino, Garnacha Blanca, Verdejo, or Viura. Among the "everyday" Spanish wines, the reds tend to be medium-bodied with solid acidity, not overly tannic, and at least somewhat earthy. Whites tend to be fragrant and acidic as well (although Albarino tastes like honey), with citrus and melon flavors. For comparison -- the reds are somewhere between pinot noir and zinfandel. The whites are often similar to sauvignon blanc.

Spanish wine really started penetrating the American market over the last decade, and you can find any number of very good $10-20 bottles without trying too hard. Here are a few bottles that we've cracked in recent memory:

Vinos de Terrunos 2006 Esencia de Monte -- This is a big, fruity Spanish red, made from 100% Monastrell. Lots of blueberries and wood shavings on the nose (bigger nose for a Spanish wine), even though there's no oak used in the production of the wine in any way. Also entirely organically farmed. The body is fairly full and there's some more thick dark fruit and licorice that leads to an almost coffee-ish finish. With a beer-braised chicken and lima bean stew flavored with plenty of garlic, thyme and paprika -- an excellent pairing. $15.

Raimat "Vina 24" 2008 Albarino -- Light nose of wildflowers and lemon zest. An acidic body that tastes a little like lemonade made with honey. Finish is lemony, a bit tart, with a little lingering minerality. A very pleasant wine for an aperitif. We also tried it with a homemade veggie pasta -- grape tomatoes, basil, and oregano sautéed in garlic and olive oil and tossed with homemade linguine. Acidity stood up nicely without overpowering some of the fresh vegetable and semolina flavors. Very nice. $11.

Finca Luzon 2006 Altos de Luzon Jumilla -- An interesting nose of plums and figs greets you here. It boasts a full-flavored body of dark fruits like blueberries and a real backbone of earthiness. Finish is spicy and acidic. This is a fantastic wine for pairing with big, rich foods. We had this with a veal & mushroom stew and it was absolutely outstanding. $16.

Vevi Rueda 2008 Verdejo/Viura -- An interesting blend of these two major white grapes. In the spirit of Nigel Tufnel, we asked, "How much more grapefruity could this wine be? The answer is none...none more grapefruity." Any fan of tart sauvignon blancs would really enjoy this wine. It's pleasantly acidic and refreshing, and exceedingly food friendly with light meats or fish. We had it with grilled snapper. For $9, a really solid value.

Guest Column: Wine/Dinner of the Month Club – March

The second entry in Jeff's yearlong devotion...

Welcome to the March installment of the Wine/Dinner of the Month Club for my dear Christine. You may recall that last month was a pretty hearty affair with bruschetta, lasagna and a fairly rich dessert paired with a Super Tuscan wine. This month, we went lighter for both the meal and the wine. It turned out great, and once again Mike at the TNV was spot on with the wine recommendation. Bon appétit.

Menu
Lemon Basil Shrimp and Pasta over baby spinach
Mixed Green Salad
Ambrosia Citrus Fruit Salad with yogurt

Wine
2008 Frog’s Leap Rutherford Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc

Mike suggested a light preparation of seafood to go with the sauvignon blanc. Christine is not a huge fan of seafood, so I thought this could be a challenge. After a little internet searching I found the shrimp recipe above. It is definitely a light dish with very little in the way of ingredients beyond the pasta and shrimp. Christine was in Texas that week helping take care of her nephews and sell her sister’s house (what a saintly sister) so I had plenty of time to go shopping and make preparations. Everything was pretty easy to find at our local Kroger grocery store.

One snag was with the shrimp. I’ve never actually cooked shrimp and the first thing I did was go to the fish counter and ask for a pound of pre-cooked cocktail shrimp. Fortunately I realized my mistake right away and had the clerk give me the uncooked shrimp. I can safely say, don’t be afraid of the shrimp. Once you drop it in boiling water, it cooks up in about three minutes perfectly. One other issue I had to deal with was the basil. The recipe called for fresh basil. Being March in Cincinnati, the only “fresh” basil I found was a small bag of hydroponically grown stuff that was a little wilted. But it worked in a pinch.

Christine got home around 3:00 pm on Saturday, March 27 and went straight to bed because she was totally exhausted. I started doing some prep work around 4:00. Mainly I segmented the citrus for the ambrosia salad and peeled the shrimp. One tip is that when you buy fresh shrimp ask if it has been de-veined (mine was). If it hasn’t, you’ll need to do that as well. Around 5:30 or so, I started preparing the meal in earnest while Christine revived herself. I opened the wine, and we sat down for dinner a little after 6:00. It was a pretty quick prep time for all the courses, so it would be something that could be whipped up on pretty short notice.

As I mentioned, the shrimp pasta was very light in flavor. The capers provided the strongest flavor, but there were few of them in the dish so they were not overpowering. The olive oil provided some moisture to the pasta and the lemon juice gave just the right amount of tartness and citrus punch. Because the flavors in the dish were so light, the wine was really able to show through without being covered up. The wine had very bright fruit flavors of citrus and pineapple and went very well with all the flavors in the dish, including the slight bitterness provided by the baby spinach.

After the pasta course, we took a little break while I prepared the salad. It was a simple mix of greens with cucumber and raisins. I had mine with a creamy ranch dressing and Christine had hers with strawberry vinaigrette. The wine provided a nice accompaniment to the salad course, though it was a better match to the pasta course.



For dessert I settled on Ambrosia Citrus Salad. Yes, Ambrosia, that staple of family reunions, church suppers and college cafeteria salad bars. Most ambrosia recipes are simple canned affairs (a can of fruit cocktail, some canned mandarin oranges, etc.). This recipe calls for fresh grapefruit and oranges, which is a refreshing change. It made for a nice light dessert, and the grapefruit and oranges provided an excellent citrus bridge to the main course. I left out the miniature marshmallows, but added plain yogurt to make ambrosia parfaits. Everybody loves parfaits. On reflection, I probably would have just served the ambrosia by itself. The citrus fruit and coconut went well with the sauvignon blanc, but the yogurt tended to cover up the flavor of the wine, making for a less than perfect pairing.

Preparing these meals is always a learning process and I find it helpful to do a little debrief to see what could have been done differently. First, I wouldn’t add the yogurt to the ambrosia. It can stand well enough on its own and would be a better match for the wine that way. Second, while the wilted hydroponic basil worked okay, fresh is always better. I can definitely see having this meal again in late summer, sitting on the deck in the cool evening air after picking a few fresh basil leaves right out of the garden and the wine chilling on ice.

Cincinnati International Wine Festival: Year 2

"By the end, I was exhausted, my palate and the rest of me was tired, but I was pleased. I was pretty intimidated when I walked into the place, but I felt like I held my own among the wine cognoscenti. Can't wait for next year. I could get used to this..." -- Mike Rosenberg, The Naked Vine, 3/15/2009


"Whatever." -- Mike Rosenberg, returning home, 3/12/2010

Last year, I wrote a breathless paean to the trade tasting of the Cincinnati International Wine Festival. As a first-timer, the experience was Chanukah, Kwanzaa, Christmas, and Saturday night rolled into three hours on a Friday afternoon. I gleefully hopped from booth to booth, sampling wines from across the globe from wildly varying price points, having good conversations with pourers and winemakers alike.

To reset the scene for you -- 40,000 square feet of wineries, wine distributors, and various other wine and food related companies showing off for wine store owners, restaurateurs, bar owners, and one gloriously bald wine writer. I spoke to any number of winemakers who were friendly, chatty, and willing to carry on conversations while pouring. I got a lot of good information for the Vine and have carried on some extended conversations, met some cool folks, and got pretty jazzed by the whole experience.

This year, the vibe was noticeably different. The winemakers seemed almost surly this time around. Any number of them, seeing that I wasn’t in the market to purchase mass quantities, clearly decided that I wasn’t worth speaking with. (The best was the pourer with a popped collar, sweater tied just-so around his neck, comparing golf swings with a buddy behind the counter while I stood patiently waiting for a pour.)

Even what was being poured was different. There were a lot of the usual suspects – lots of “Vine range” wines that I’d seen in every store in the area, a few local distributors showing off their portfolios and that sort of thing. There seemed to be an inordinate number of winemakers from Napa hawking expensive, overdone (to my palate) cabernet. All of these folks seemed particularly tense – they were either nervously chatty to anyone in earshot or seemed a little high and mighty. I muddled through the three hours, tasting here and there – but I didn’t leave the place feeling like I’d made nearly as many new, notable discoveries as last year.

When I got home, I wasn’t in a particularly good mood – as the Sweet Partner in Crime can attest. Couple this with me getting blindsided by a few…shall we say…questionable ethical decisions by some folks in the wine community, and it added up to an experience that should have been uplifting becoming annoying instead.

On the following Sunday, I opened the paper to find a story with the headline “Napa winery operators struggle to stay solvent.” The story noted that the prices on these wines have skyrocketed as they gained “boutique” status. (Google “Screaming Eagle wine” if you want to know what I’m talking about.) Between the economic downturn of the last couple of years and the fact that there’s a heck of a lot of good wine that’s relatively inexpensive, the demand dropped sharply. Like the overvalued housing market, eventually the demand curve brings things back to earth. No wonder so many of these folks had those attitudes – many of them are literally fighting for their futures. (Judging from their service orientation, several will lose.)

All that said, the day wasn’t a total loss. I still managed to come across a few tasty bottles amidst all the gloom:

Gruet – Not the first time that I’ve mentioned this New Mexico winery in this space. Gruet makes a very solid line of inexpensive sparkling wines produced in the methode champenoise style. This event was the first time that I’d been able to try both their demi-sec (a slightly sweeter version of their sparkler) and their sparkling rosé, made from pinot noir. I thought the rosé was particularly good.

Tarrica – Last year, I discovered Maryhill Winery from Washington – a winery that made a wide spread of varietals which were all very solid wines. This year, the “Hey, I like and can afford all of these!” award goes to Tarrica. They’re from Paso Robles, which is quickly becoming one of my favorite American growing regions. Of special note for me were the pinot grigio (which had structure and weight unlike a lot of pinot grigio I run into) and the merlot. The merlot was the real champ. It wasn’t the tepid fruity creation you’ll see a lot of at around $12. This had some power, a lot of tannin, and I guess would improve over the next couple of years. Highly recommended.

Benton-Lane – From Oregon comes this small-production winery with the potential for a big, big future. They currently only produce “pinot” varietals – pinot gris, pinot blanc and pinot noir. The gris was fruity and approachable with a really nice level of acidity. I pictured this with any number of fish dishes that I’d whip up. But the star was the pinot noir. Their “regular” pinot goes for $26, but is well worth the investment. Their high end pinot noir, called “First Class,” was exactly that. The single best wine that I sampled the entire day. Really well put together, and if you’d fed it to me blind, I would have guessed high-end Burgundy instead of Willamette Valley.

Eberle – Also from Paso Robles, Eberle means “little boar” in German. Nothing pig-like about these wines, though. Many of the California chardonnay producers are finally stepping away from the “buttered charcoal” flavors, seeing instead more of an evenhanded approach. Their chardonnay was a mouthful of balance. Their cabernet was very solid and their single vineyard Zinfandel was an absolute rockstar.

Truchard – The best white that I tasted was the Truchard Roussanne. Not a grape that shows up often as it’s usually a blending grape, but more and more single-varietal versions are showing up. This particular wine was a lovely honey and pear flavored concoction that continued to show changing flavors sip after sip, finishing with a little spiciness. A great wine for showing off at a dinner party as an aperitif.

Maybe I just took an unfortunate path through the booths. Maybe there was just something in the air. In any case, I’ll give it another run next year and hope for bluer skies.

The Man Who Cooks

The Naked Vine is branching!

Thanks to the inspiration of a few different folks (including the Sweet Partner in Crime), I'm now writing about our adventures in preparing flavorful meals that pair well with good wines. None of these meals require spending all night in the kitchen. Interested? Ease on over to The Man Who Cooks. Please let me know what you think. Any and all feedback is appreciated.

Old Vine

(h/t Jim V.)

Vine reader Ned D. shot me an email recently asking me about an "Old Vine" Zinfandel since he'd had one and enjoyed it recently. He asked, "So, is Old Vine Zinfandel better than regular Zinfandel?" A good question -- one that I hadn't really considered on more than a superficial level. I mean, if there's "old vine" wine, why isn't there "young vine" wine?

Might as well find out, no?

Like winemaking itself, the growth process of grapes is a long-term endeavor. Once planted, a grape vine needs a couple of years to get itself established and get its roots down a ways in the hopefully poor soil in which it's planted. Yes, I said, "poor." Grapes grow best in bad soil. The best grape producing vines need to struggle for sustenance. So, once a vine is at a point where it's getting steady water and nutrition, it starts producing fruit. A grapevine starts producing fruit within 2-4 years.

So, after a couple of years -- you've got fruit. Well, even if a vine's producing grapes, it can take a couple more years for the vine to persistently produce grapes with a high enough sugar level so the juice can be sustainably fermented. Winemakers often do a "green harvest" (cutting some unripened clusters) on young vines to reduce the overall grape production, allowing the remaining grapes to store more sugar and juice. Even with these methods, a grape vine can take up to around 10 years to start really producing quality grapes. A vine's "production wheelhouse" is usually between 10-25 years of age.

However, some particularly hardy vines chug along for decades, but produce smaller and smaller yields as time passes. After 40 years or so, the vine produces a fraction of what it used to. However, what is lost in quantity is often made up for in higher sugar level and a different quality of juice. The resulting wines are often higher in alcohol and have more complex flavors.

So, what does this all this mean vis a vis Ned's wine? Zinfandels aren't for the faint of heart. These are usually rich, powerful, chewy, spicy wines. Until the early 1990's, most Zinfandel was used either for blending or to create white zin. Zinfandel producers, especially in Sonoma County, then started a push to put these big reds in the public consciousness. It worked. Wine drinkers, tired of merlot and cabernet, started snapping up these wines. I fell in love with Zinfandel on our first trip to Sonoma. Zinfandel (A Dark Horse 2003 Zinfandel, specifically) was the first wine that ever made my eyes pop.

Many of the long-standing winemakers with access to old vines chose to produce a "regular" Zinfandel, which tended to be more powerful, fruity and straightforward, and an old vine version which, while often higher in alcohol and powerfully fruity, had more balance and more nuance. But more demand for these wines meant increased production and, in the case of the old vine zins, a "Californizing" of the wine style. Much like large producers of California chards producing ultra-buttery or ultra-oaky wines, many of the larger Zin producers began focusing on one particular aspect of the wine. Inexpensive zins became either unremarkably syrupy fruit bombs or thick, peppery alcoholic stews without subtlety. Some of these wines had more in common with jug wine than with the traditional Sonoma products. Thankfully, that era seems to be passing and even the wines from the lower price points are showing some more balance. The pattern still holds, though. For comparison, we tried a couple of zinfandels from Cline.

The Cline 2007 Zinfandel ($12) certainly fits the "straightforward" category. The nose is straight up vanilla initially that eases into some spiciness and some cherry after some air. Rather than a thick fruit bomb, the body here was more approachable and tasted like vanilla covered cherries and blackberries. The finish is somewhat tannic, easing towards coffee at the end. For comparison, the Cline 2007 "Ancient Vines" Zinfandel ($16) had a more balanced (and I thought, more interesting) nose of cinnamon and clove and lighter cherry on the nose. To me, the flavors had more "structure," meaning that we tasted things more gradually, almost "sequentially," rather than getting vanillacherrysmoketannin all at the same time. The peppery notes from good Zinfandel also presented themselves more strongly. The finish felt like it was wrapping the back of my tongue with sour cherries before drifting away with a strong, coffeeish taste. We tried it with some two-bite brownies, the "Young Vines" Cline was actually better with chocolate. The immediacy of the wine's flavors took care of the cocoa more handily.

Is Zinfandel the only "old vine" wine? Nope. Australia does some old vine Shiraz, which makes sense to me as both wines tend to be big and alcoholic. There are some in France and Spain as well. I haven't had the chance to try any of those, unfortunately.

There's no real guideline for what constitutes an actual "old" grapevine. The general rule of thumb is "older then 45 years." Winemakers usually turn to Potter Stewart for direction -- they know it when they taste it. Since there's nothing cast in stone, the term can be applied quite loosely for marketing reasons. On my last wine store trip, I saw that the bottles of Gnarly Head Old Vine Zin had new neighbors -- Gnarlier Head Old Vine Zin. The notes for the "regular" Gnarly Head said that the wine was made from a blend of wines from 35-80 years old. The Gnarlier Head notes only say that the wine is a "single vineyard" zinfandel -- but makes no note of the age. The "Ancient Vines" we tried above is from Cline's 100 year old vines.

One semi-tangential note: On the evening when we were trying the Cline wines, I was feeling lazy and the SPinC didn't want to finish her glass. (This frightened me a bit.) We'd done a side-by-side of the two wines, so I just poured them together for fun to finish up, tried it, and immediately tried to replicate it. (I was able to do it fairly easily -- about a 60/40 blend of new vine/old vine.) The whole turned out to be better than the sum of the parts. The two wines merged into a very approachable, somewhat fruity, very drinkable "cuvee" which seemed to have a better flavor balance than either of the individual wines.

"It's like a black and tan!" said the SPinC.

Who knew?

Ready for an Adventure?

For those of you in the Dayton/Cincinnati area, I wanted to call your attention to the Adventure Summit being held at the student union on the campus of Wright State University.

Christine (the Pie Queen) and Jeff (the Builder), erstwhile neighbors, friends of the Vine, and generally excellent individuals will be doing a presentation on their recent African safari & wine tour. You may remember Jeff's great writeup on the wine aspect. The wildlife piece is even more impressive. (I'm lucky enough to have seen a preview of the presentation. It's way cool.)

Best of all, it's free -- so if you're looking for things to do this weekend, give it a go!

Guest Column: Wine/Dinner of the Month Club – February

Naked Vine Note: The Naked Vine's international correspondent has decided to continue his foray into the intrepid world of wine blogging. I'm looking forward to Jeff's project. Read on and enjoy!

Earlier this year, I was trying to think of a way to surprise my wife Christine on her birthday. It’s not an easy thing to do. First, she’s too smart to surprise easily, and second, she has fairly down to earth tastes. The standard jewelry, perfume or clothes would not do (though she might like a snazzy new pair of hiking boots). But she does like good food and good wine to go with it.

I had recently finished off a small area of our basement as a wine/beer/hard-cider cellar and thought it would be a nice surprise to stock the wine cellar. Then, putting my head together with Mike of TNV, we hit on the idea of a dinner/wine of the month club. Mike helped me pick out twelve bottles of wine and made some general menu selections to go with them. I made a cute little certificate listing all the wines and the corresponding months and voila, Jeff’s Wine/Dinner of the Month Club was born. The kicker is that I am making the dinner each month. This is a very big thing because I don’t usually make the meals. I’m the clean-up crew in our house.

My labors paid off and the evening was a big hit – so much so that it looks like this gift might be an annual thing. Follow along each month to see how it goes. I’ll provide links to the recipes when available. You might get some menu ideas, or at the very least some excellent wine suggestions from TNV.

February

Menu
Mushroom Bruschetta
Lasagna
Mixed Green Salad
Buttermilk Panna Cotta with Brandied Citrus Sauce

Wine
2006 Monte Antico Super Tuscan

On Friday, February 26, I started preparing the meal around 2:30 p.m. and we sat down to dinner around 6:45 p.m. The meal worked out well because I could prepare the dessert ahead of time (according to the recipe even the day before) and put it in the refrigerator. I then got the lasagna sauce started and simmering while I worked on cutting up ingredients for the bruschetta and preparing the cheese filling for the lasagna. It also made it easy to clean up along the way. Did I mention I rock as the clean-up crew?

About 30 minutes before we sat down to eat we poured the wine into our decanter to let it breathe. I don’t know if this wine really needed it, but I figured it couldn’t hurt and we have this nice decanter so, by golly, we’re going to use it.

The bruschetta had not only mushrooms in the topping, but also red pepper, onion, garlic and tarragon. It presented a veritable mélange of rather earthy flavors, and the wine held its own and complemented the appetizers very well.

Next up was the lasagna. This is a hearty recipe with ground beef and Italian sausage, three cheeses and lots of tomato products–crushed tomatoes, tomato sauce and tomato paste. It was one of the best lasagnas I have ever tasted. It was so good I forgot to drink the wine with my first serving and had to go back for seconds. It was also so good you couldn’t even tell the noodles were whole wheat.* Because of the tomato content, the lasagna presented a lot of acidity. The good tannin structure of the wine balanced this out perfectly, and we almost finished the bottle, but we needed a little something to go with the salad.

(*Lesson learned: We used whole wheat noodles though the recipe did not call for them. But really, if you’re making a two meat, three cheese lasagna, don’t use whole wheat noodles in some misguided attempt to make it “healthy.” You’re just kidding yourself.)

We saved a little of the Monte Antico in our glass to have something to drink with our salad, which is the Italian way and nice to have near the end of the meal to cleanse the palate for dessert. The salad was a simple romaine lettuce mix with walnuts and dried cherries topped with a vinaigrette dressing. It was even more acidic than the lasagna, but surprisingly, the wine worked well with this too, though it was a bit of a struggle.

We were finished with the Monte Antico, but we still had dessert to go. The panna cotta was a fairly heavy dessert, made with buttermilk, heavy cream and sugar. The sauce recipe called for reducing orange juice with some sugar and a tablespoon of brandy. Since we didn’t have any brandy in the house, I Kentucky-fied it with a tablespoon of bourbon. The dessert was delicious with the citrus sauce giving a good counterpoint to the creamy panna cotta. But, what to drink with dessert?

Well, a few years ago, Christine and I went on our honeymoon in Tuscany and had some vin santo, an Italian dessert wine, and loved it. A couple years later I was in a store and saw a small bottle for about $10 so I bought it thinking it would be nice with dessert some time. I pulled it out and we tried it with the panna cotta. Let me just say that you may not be happy with a $10 bottle of aged vin santo, and leave it at that. Our bottle found its way to the bottom of our kitchen drain.

Other than the vin santo incident, we both enjoyed the meal and the wine immensely. We can’t wait to see how March turns out.