The Alphabet Soup Project – G is for “Grenache”

A quick programming note before we get rolling. I’m going to be co-leading a wine tasting with Danny Gold on Wednesday evening (March 9, 2011) from 6:30-8:00 at the Party Source in Bellevue, KY. The cost is $20, but you get a $5 gift card. The theme is “California Wines under $15,” so come on down, grab a glass, and hang with us. Want to reserve a spot? Click here.

*************************************

I owe my earliest memories of Grenache to my folks. Back in the day, they usually kept a jug of Gallo white Grenache around for entertaining visitors. (In case you’re wondering, Mom – I never sneaked any…) Almaden, Rossi, Franzia – all of the major jug wine producers cranked out inexpensive, sweet blushes made from Grenache. White Grenache was what White Zinfandel eventually became in the wine market – a “refreshing” wine. (Gallo actually tried to market White Grenache as an upscale alternative to White Zin in the late 80’s. That campaign didn’t last long.)

Since pink, sweet wines were never really my thing, I put Grenache out of my head for a long time. Along came the Sweet Partner in Crime. In our wine-appreciation infancy, we powered through many a bottle of Rosemount Estates’ Shiraz blends from Australia. When the weather got warm, we’d replace our bottle of Rosemount Shiraz/Cab with their Grenache/Shiraz blend, since it was lighter. Once our wine preferences began to broaden a bit, our everpresent bottle of Rosemount got replaced with other stuff and Grenache again retreated to an afterthought.

Fast forward a bit. I started seeing Grenache as a varietal more and more, especially as French and Spanish wines became more common in my rack. But what is it? One way to find out…

Grenache is a high-yielding grape that’s extremely common in the world’s hottest, driest wine regions. It’s best known as the backbone of the wines of the Southern Rhone region – especially Chateauneuf-de-Pape and many Cotes-du-Rhone. It’s the primary grape in Tavel, one of the best regions for rosé in the world. In Spain, it’s known as “Garnacha” and the wines of Rioja, Priorat, and Navarra simply wouldn’t exist without it.

Post-Prohibition winemakers in California grew a lot of Grenache. The sturdiness and drought-resistant properties of the vines (not to mention the high yields) made it a natural match for many of the growing areas. The wines, however, were often of the aforementioned jug variety. This began to change with the advent of the “Rhone Ranger” movement, where many winemakers started putting together high quality French-style blends in the late 1990’s.

Rarely used as a single varietal, Grenache yields a fruity, low-tannin, medium-bodied wine. The French Grenache-based wines tend to be quite earthy, since the bitterness of the tannin doesn’t get in the way of the “funk.” Spanish Grenache tends to be on the smoky side. American Grenache blends usually are more

fruit forward. Most good Grenache is be easy to drink and extremely food friendly. As a pairing, Grenache works in almost any instance where you’d normally choose a pinot noir. I’ve seen Grenache described as “pinot with a punch,” and that’s accurate – similar flavors, slightly heavier body, and a more fruit-forward flavor.

The SPinC and I did a side-by-side with a pair of Grenache-dominant wines. The first was the Writer’s Block 2008 Grenache from Lake County, California. The other was Penelope Sanchez 2009 Grenache/Syrah from Campo de Borja, Spain. The Penelope is 80/20 Grenache/Syrah and the Writer’s Block is over 80% Grenache with some Syrah and Conoise blended along. Both retail for $12-15.

Both wines improve greatly with a little decanting. The Penelope, especially, was very “tight” initially. (Javier Bardem commentary withheld…) It took a few minutes, even after some heavy swirling, for the smokiness and tannin to start balancing with the fruit. Once it had a few minutes in the air, it opened into a nose laced with herbs and vanilla. The body is light-to-medium and is well-balanced cherries, smoke, and vanilla. Those flavors all twined through a long finish.

The Writer’s Block (one of my favorite names for a wine) was heavier. Like most American wines compared to Euro-counterparts, the Lake County Grenache wasn’t as subtle and had a much “stronger” profile. Everything tasted “bigger,” even though the color of the wine itself was lighter. The nose was cherries and bubblegum with much less smoke. Very straightforward. There’s more of a “leather and cigar box” flavor on the finish. The SPinC thought it tasted like black licorice.

For dinner, we grilled some salmon and roasted some cauliflower with garlic and balsamic vinegar. When we tasted the two initially, our first reaction was that we liked the Spanish version better. The flavors in the food made the wine taste bigger and smokier. After a few bites, though, we came to the realization that we weren’t observing closely enough.

The Writer’s Block was better with the fish. There was more tannin (as would be expected from a Lake County wine *add link*), so the wine’s flavors cut much more easily through the oiliness of the fish and stood up better to the grilled flavors. The Penelope was better with the cauliflower. The roasting and the balsamic brought out the sweetness in the cauliflower, which was a much more harmonious pairing with the complexity of the Spanish entry.

Both wines were quite good. They’re excellent values and either would be fine with almost any food, short of something really heavy like a cassoulet or a meal dripping with cheese.

One last point about Grenache. I’ve mentioned grapes like Alicante and Cannonau a few times in this space as varietals with which I wasn’t very familiar. Turns out that I was more familiar than I thought – both of them are actually Grenache. Whatever name’s on the bottle, it’s well worth your time geting familiarized or re-familiarized. I’m certainly glad that I did.

(Also, for remembrances’ sake, I tried a bottle of the old Rosemount Estates Grenache/Syrah. Interesting how time changes one's view of things. Sweetish nose of blackberry jam. Lots of fruit on the palate and a little noticeable residual sugar. The finish is fruity and you sort of have to hunt for the tannins in the blend. I wouldn’t pick it for a normal tipple these days. A little knowledge can be a dangerous thing, I guess…)

 

Technorati Tags: wine,Grenache,California,Spain,France

Naked (Vine) In Public

Hey, everyone! I’ve got something for your upcoming social calendars!

I’m going to be co-leading a wine tasting with my fellow wine-loving bald guy Danny Gold for the Party Source’s EQ tasting series on Wednesday, March 9 from 6:30-8:00. The theme is “Great Wines Under $15 from California.”

There’s a $20 charge for the tasting, but you get a $5 Party Source gift card for your trouble.

You can make reservations by following this link. Danny tells me that these tastings fill up, so come on down, introduce yourself, and have some wine with us.

Hope to see you there!

The Alphabet Soup Project: F is for “First” – Aperitifs

Aperitif --a common word in wine descriptions. I’m 100% guilty of throwing it out there myself, usually when I’m describing light, dry white wines that are easy sippers. I started using it because I’d seen any number of other writers do the same. (Yes, yes – we wine writers can get lost in “monkey see, monkey do,” or “Mikey see, Mikey do” in my case.)

I’ve described any number of wines as Aperitifs – everything from rosé to sherry to bubbly. So, when I’m writing about these things – just what am I supposed to be talking about and why is it something we should be interested in?

The word “Apèritif” (uh-pair-uh-TEEF) is a French word stemming from the Latin aperire, meaning “to open.” An Aperitif is a drink (or drinks, depending on who’s serving the chow) taken before a meal to stimulate the appetite. Aperitifs are usually served on their own or with some kind of light snack. Aperitifs should not be confused with appetizers, which are considered part of the actual meal. There’s not one single “traditional” Aperitif – they vary widely by country and custom. You’ll see liqueurs, cocktails, wines, and shots of alcohol used as Aperitifs.

Broadly, they tend to employ a bit of bitterness to get the salivary glands working and some sweetness to make the bitterness more palatable. With liqueurs, there’s often a notable herbal component. The most notable Aperitif in the U.S. is probably the martini. In France, anise-flavored liqueurs like Pastis or Pernod (or absinthe, if your tastes swing towards the hallucinogenic) are common. Greece’s most famous is ouzo. Italy brings us Cinzano and Campari if you’re looking at bitter liqueurs; limoncello if you want something a little sweeter.

I’ll be honest, though – I’ve tried many of the above bitter liqueurs, and I really don’t much care for them (martinis being the exception). I’ve had some very, very painful experiences with a couple of them as well. (Word to the wise…avoid ouzo. Just stay away.) For our purposes, we’ll largely stick to wine-based Aperitifs.

Wines served as Aperitifs are usually light whites. While I’ve written about any number of things as Aperitifs, traditionally, an Aperitif wine is a sparkler. Brut Champagne is a classic Aperitif, as is cava in Spain, but any dry bubbly will generally do.

The Sweet Partner in crime and I were a bit peckish one Saturday afternoon. Since I was working on this article and I never need an excuse to crack a bottle of bubbly, I decided to open one to go along with the grocery store sushi I’d picked up while I was out. I went with a relatively inexpensive dry Prosecco.

Lunetta Prosecco, imported by Cavit, was my choice for the day. It’s a relatively low-alcohol bubbly, so it doesn’t completely fog one’s brain. It’s a very pleasant sparkly sip, crisp and light with a bit of a citrus backbone. With the sushi, a very pleasant sideboard. Didn’t detract from the fish flavor at all and didn’t back down from the wasabi.

While sparkling wines are the most fun wines of all, and they’re certainly a great way to kick off a dinner party, you can use just about any light wine here. Think pinot grigio or whites from the Loire like a Muscadet or Sancerre if you want to go the still wine route here. Dry vermouth is also a very traditional Aperitif. I like martinis, and I think a person who eschews vermouth in a ‘tini is truly missing out. But on its own as an Aperitif, I’ve tried it and I wouldn’t put it high on my list of favorites.

Along the lines of vermouth, there’s a very unique wine-based beverage used as an Aperitif that I’d seen on the shelf at various stores for a long time and always wondered about – Lillet. Lillet is around an 85/15% blend of wine from Bordeaux and various citrus liqueurs. There are red and white versions of Lillet, although I’ve only seen the latter. The white is largely a Semillon-based wine while merlot provides the structure for the red.

Lillet is served chilled, either refrigerated or on the rocks. I decided to try it in one of the traditional manners: on ice with a slice of orange. (Some use lime or lemon slices.) I braced myself for the bitterness of Campari or Pernod – ready for either an herbal blast or a biting dryness. What did I find?
It’s a curious drink. It smells like fresh orange rind and flowers. As I took a sip, It’s a slightly sweet, light sipper, full of citrus. The herbal taste is similar to Chartreuse, although the flavor itself bears no resemblance. While there’s sweetness on the palate, the finish is quite dry thanks to quinine – the same stuff that gives a bite to tonic water. I found it to be extremely pleasant, and I can see how one could certainly enjoy some of this before a meal.

Additionally, Lillet became famous in American thanks to Bond. James Bond. In Casino Royale (the book, mind you – not the George Lazenby version), Bond orders a martini made of three parts gin, one part vodka, ½ part Lillet, and a twist of lemon. I couldn’t resist. I whipped one up. That Ian Fleming knew what he was writing about. It’s an extremely tasty version of a martini. Dangerously drinkable. If having as an Aperitif, limit yourself to one of these. I put one away, for scientific purposes, of course…then promptly took a nap.

As I think about the everyday implications here – I usually have some kind of pre-dinner glass of wine, and it’s almost always something white and light. I’m often cooking while I’m drinking it, so I’m normally not thinking too hard about the flavors in my glass – and I don’t want whatever it is to interfere with the inevitable spice adjustments that go on while I’m putting dinner together. I’d suggest you keep this in mind as you’re thinking about Aperitifs. This is usually a drink for conversation. People’s minds will be elsewhere, and they’ll often be mindlessly noshing. Whatever you choose, let it be something that pairs easily with almost any food. You won’t go wrong.

The Valentine’s Pack

As I get started here, let me once again thank Jeff, the Naked Vine’s foreign correspondent, for his great work with his monthly dinner club writeups. I’m sure Christine the Pie Queen was pleased with her birthday present. If you enjoyed his writeups, please drop him a line in the comment section here.

This set of releases, sent for sampling by the California Table Wine folks, was scheduled to coincide with the king of the Hallmark Holidays. So, would you want to put these in a gift basket? I was sent three samples:

• Apothic Red 2008 California Winemaker’s Red Blend
• Barefoot (NV) Sweet Red
• Bear Flag (NV) Dark Red Wine Blend

Before we get to the wines themselves, I realize I haven’t mentioned what “NV” means – it’s “non-vintage,” meaning the wine is made of a blend of wines not produced in the same year. For instance, when producing a blend, a winemaker might blend a barrel of 2008 Zinfandel with a half-barrel of 2010 pinot noir and a half-barrel of 2009 Tempranillo to get the flavor he or she was looking for.

You see non-vintage most often with sparkling wines, but more and more table wine blends are going to this model. In a relatively consistent climate like California, such a process is usually less expensive and gives a winemaker more flexibility in producing an “even” product from year to year.

As for this bunch of blends, we started by trying the wines individually.

The Bear Flag was our first sip. This wine had, by far, the most interesting label – a potentially chemically-fueled cacaphony of images by an artist named Benton Eduardo. A description won’t really do it justice, so see for yourself:

With a label that screams, “pick me and don’t worry about what’s inside,” I wondered if there would be due diligence done with the product itself – a Petit Sirah based blend with Alicante, Zinfandel, Petit Verdot, and Tempranillo. With that combination, I didn’t expect a blast of acidity, but that’s what I got on the first drink. However, the wine balanced with about half an hour of air. There’s a medium bodied blueberry flavor to it with some smoke on the end. Nothing complicated – a somewhat dry-and-fruity red wine with enough character to make it interesting. Not bad for $9.

Next, we moved over to the Apothic Red Blend. This is a Zinfandel based wine backed up with Merlot and Syrah. I’ve had any number of fruit bombs over the years, but this was, perhaps, the first vanilla bomb I’ve tasted. “It tastes like vanilla candy,” said the Sweet Partner in Crime. I concurred. It calmed down a bit after some air, but the vanilla dominated everything. The promised notes of “mocha, chocolate, and brown spice” from the description were swamped. We set it aside for later to see if it would be worth the $14 pricetag.

We cracked open the Barefoot Sweet Red with some trepidation. We’re clearly not the target audience for this blend of Zinfandel, Pinot Noir, Barbera, Grenache, and Petit Sirah. I was a little nervous when I saw that the alcohol content was only 10.5%. Zinfandels can get up to 14-15% alcohol without trying, so I wondered just how much residual sugar there must be in there. The answer? A bunch. This tasted very tart and rather sweet – like Sangria or a Seabreeze. Set me back a step. I’d imagine that this is built for drinkers of white zinfandel who don’t want to be seen drinking pink wine. The flavor profile is very similar. $6.

California red blends tend to be less tannic and more food friendly than the single varietal wines. With red wines, we thought we’d try a classic red table wine pairing. I picked up a couple of filets at the store, boiled some gold potatoes and topped them with butter and parsley, sautéed up some portabella mushrooms with some garlic and red wine. Even in in the middle of winter, I like finding a good excuse to grill, so I knocked the snow off the cover, fired that puppy up, and threw the filets on there for a good searing. (Rare. Yes, please.)

With the wines, the Bear Flag continued to be the top performer. Since it was a little more restrained to begin with, it evolved into a nice companion for the meal. It didn’t really stand out in any way, but it was a nice accompaniment.

The Apothic needed food. Even after a couple of hours of air, the vanilla was still overpowering. With a steak, however, those vanilla notes got blunted quite a bit, allowing some of the other flavors in the wine to come out. The potential was there for a very interesting wine, but it wasn’t evident by itself. It may benefit from a little more time in bottle.

As for the Barefoot? I ate a bit of the filet, had a sip of the wine, and declared, “That was the most unpleasant bite of steak I’ve ever had.” I can’t recommend it, unless you want to either make sangria or pour it over ice with a splash of club soda. As a spritzer, it’s quite decent. (Hey, it was for the sake of science…)

Finally, how about alongside that box of chocolates in your potential gift basket? We actually tried the wines with two-bite brownies. The Apothic was quite good, actually. The vanilla worked with the brownies nicely. The Bear Flag was decent. Nothing outstanding, but a solid choice. The Barefoot? No. Just no.

So, to sum up: I’m not the best judge of the Barefoot. It’s not a wine for me. The Bear Flag is a solid, value-minded choice for drinking or food. With chocolate, the Apothic is good now. It may evolve into a better food wine in a year or so.

Wine & Dinner of the Month Club - January

So here we are with the last of the Wine/Dinner of the Month Club entries (that is, unless Mike gives me a bump up in my royalties). This month, for only the second time, we go on the road. Christine and I headed out to West Virginia for some cross country skiing at White Grass Ski Touring Center. We try to get out there at least once a winter, hoping for good snow. This year there was plenty and the trails were as good as I have ever seen them. So good, in fact, that I hardly fell at all which is a pretty good measure of conditions. We were joined by our friend Patty in a cute little rental cottage with a hot tub. The kitchen conditions were a little less ideal than the skiing conditions, but we made the best of it and had a great meal. No recipe links this month, but the recipes should be easy enough to find from the sources below. One other note, the pictures are not their usual high quality. We forgot to bring our camera and wound up taking the pictures with Patty’s cell phone, but I think they give a good sense of how everything turned out. Bon appétit.

Menu

• Mushrooms Stuffed with Walnuts & Cheese. (The Silver Palate Cookbook, by Julee Rosso & Sheila Lukins with Michael McLaughlin © 2007 Julee Rosso and Sheila Lukins)
• Spanish Style Braised Lentils with Sausage and Chard. (The America’s Test Kitchen Family Cookbook, Third Edition © 2010 by The Editors at America’s Test Kitchen. A well received Christmas gift from the lovely Christine.)
• Cherry Pie. (Delivered by Patty.)

Wine
2005 Alain Paret Valvigneyre Cotes-du-Rhone

While Christine and Patty were taking a well deserved après ski soak in the hot tub--I had been in earlier and got out to start dinner--I worked on the stuffed mushrooms. These are super easy to make. You simply prepare the filling, stuff the mushroom caps with stems removed, and pop in the oven. The filling is mostly walnuts and spinach, with a little of two kinds of cheeses in the filling (gruyere and feta) to give great flavor and texture without being overly rich. Patty, who is not huge fan of mushrooms, said, “I could eat these every night for the rest of my life!” I’m not convinced that wasn’t the Maker’s Mark 46 talking that she and Christine were enjoying in the hot tub earlier, but the mushrooms were very good.

Christine and Patty both helped in making the main dish because there was quite a bit of chopping to do. It wouldn’t have been a problem at home, but with the limitations of the rental kitchen, it was nice to have some extra hands helping out. We substituted regular brown lentils for the lentils du Puy called for in the recipe. They worked fine and actually required a little less cooking time. We also used some chi-chi, non-antibiotic packaged andouille chicken sausages instead of the kielbasa called for in the recipe (Christine did the grocery shopping). This worked out as well, but after browning the sausage, there was very little fat in the pan, which is what you are supposed to use to cook the rest of the dish. I just added a little olive oil to the pan to make up the difference. One nice thing is that this is pretty much a one dish meal, which makes for easy clean up. I baked a quick loaf of crusty bread and plated up the meal. Both the mushrooms and the lentil dish had a lot of very earthy flavors. We all felt the wine did as well and so it was a great accompaniment to both dishes.

Patty had been kind enough to bring a cherry pie (my personal favorite) for dessert. Here the evening took a peculiar turn. We took the pie and a bottle of prosecco (and Christine in her pajamas) and drove into the little town of Davis to visit with a couple of Patty’s friends who were also out for a ski weekend. To protect the innocent, we’ll just call them The Russian and The Russian’s Boyfriend. Once there we all enjoyed some pie and prosecco. Some of us also had some of the Russian’s Russian vodka and a little more Maker’s Mark. I think the skiing the next morning was a little rough for at least one of us, but we all had a good time and I have to say it was probably one of the more eventful and entertaining of the past year’s wine dinners.

Alentejo, Portugal

Portuguese Wine.

I’ll be honest, I’d never given it a second thought. I knew that Port originally came from northern Portugal, and I’ve had my share of vinho verde, that summertime slightly sparkling slice of refreshment, but I’d never considered other wines from there, largely because I don’t remember seeing them in one of my regular wine store haunts.

Along came an opportunity to sample a few bottles of table wine from Portugal. As a public service, of course, I gave them a spin. We’ll get to them in a moment. A little background, first.

Portugal is actually fifth in the world in total wine export. The biggest importer of Portuguese wine is Angola with Brazil not far down the list (not surprisingly, since Portuguese is the national language in both places…) Much of that volume is comprised of Port, followed by headache-inducing pink wines like Lancers and Mateus. Vinho Verde is also gaining more of that market share. While Portugal grows some of the world’s more “common” grape varietals such as Syrah and Moscatel, most wines from Portugal are made from their abundant varieties of indigenous grapes – over 500 of them.

Like most European countries, Portuguese wine nomenclature generally follows the region of the country where the wine is produced.Vinho Verde, I learned, is not only the term for “green wine,” but is, in and of itself, a wine region. Other regions/wines include Douro (the most famous region – the birthplace of port), Dao, Bairrada, Colares, and Alentejo.

It’s the last region I mentioned, Alentejo, which produced the wines that I had the chance to try. Alentejo, as a region, covers a great portion of the southern third of Portugal. It’s not heavily populated and was best known around the world for the production of cork. However, it produces a great deal of the country’s red and white table wine, which was largely forgettable on the world stage. Over time, winemaking techniques improved along with the quality.

Since Portugal’s entry into the European Union in 1986, they adopted a similar quality classification system as several of the other countries. The “top” classifications are labeled DOC. The next step down is “Vinho Regional.” DOC is to Vinho Regional the same way you might consider Chablis to regular (white) Burgundy.

From the marketing materials I received with the samples, The broadening of the Portuguese wine market doesn’t seem to be focusing, at least initially, on “fine wine” – instead focusing on the “good table wine” range. [Note: many thanks to Jo Diaz from Diaz Communications for giving me the opportunity to try these wines.] So, how were they? I had the chance to sample a red and a white from two different producers: Finisterra and Alente. Finisterra sold around $7, Alente sold around $9.

The first one opened was the Alente 2007 Alentejo Red Wine (or “Vinho Tinto” if you prefer). This is a DOC wine. This is a blend of Trincadeira and Aragonez grapes. It’s a fairly light red. There’s not much of a nose on this wine – faint raspberry scents. The flavor is somewhat acidic with some soft tannins at the end. On its own, it wasn’t great, but the pairing suggestion was for Spanish-spiced food. We tried it with some leftover (and damned good, I must say!) ropa vieja that we’d made for a party. The wine was an OK accompaniment, but it didn’t do anything to set itself apart. Not my favorite.

We moved on to the Alente 2009 Alentejo White Wine (or “Vinho Branco”), another DOC entry made from Antão Vaz and Arinto grapes. There wasn’t much of a nose on this wine at all: some apples and light wood with a slightly astringent smell like a bandaid in the background. Once past that, the body was pleasantly fruity. It’s moderately acidic with apple flavors and a little bit of mineral kicking around. The finish is fruity and soft with a little pepper that kicks in at the very end. I had high hopes with this with a paella that I’d cobbled together, since it was about as close to regional cuisine as I could manage. It turned out to be a very nice complement, but, like its red brother, it wasn’t memorable.

Then came the Finisterra 2009 Alentejo Red Wine – This is a “Vinho Regional” made from Aragonez, Castelão, and Tincadeira. The nose was quiet with faint raspberry and strawberry, but the body was a very different experience. The flavor isn’t especially fruity – some dark fruit there, but it’s generally lean and tannic. The palate isn’t complex, but it’s pleasant and there’s a solid finish of coffee and dark chocolate. The tannins are pronounced without being too strong, so it’s very easy to drink. We found it to be a really nice food wine. We had this with a winter vegetable soup – plenty of butternut squash and leek and other earthy flavors. It worked really well in a context where my first thought would have been something in the neighborhood of Cotes du Rhone. A Cotes du Rhone wouldn’t have been nearly as good with end-of-meal chocolate, either.

Finally, the Finisterra 2009 Alentejo White Wine was an interesting quaff. This Vinho Regional blend of Antão Vaz, Siria, Rabo de Ovelha, and Perrum gave me a snootful of apples and lemons with an odd little “cheese” undertone. The flavor is initially pretty tart, but it calms down pretty rapidly. Light body with fairly high acidity with some oak. The finish turns quite oaky at the end. An oaky pinot grigio, if you need to draw some kind of parallel. This one didn’t make it to food. We opened this one afternoon and it made a nice companion to conversation. A pretty decent value for a “drinking wine.”

All in all, the Finisterra wines earned higher marks from us. I thought they were very solid values for table wine. I’d recommend them for sure.

I’m certainly going to keep my eye on Portugal moving forward. If you like Spanish table wines, but you’re looking for a slightly lighter-styled wine, Portuguese wines could be your alternative.

Technorati Tags: Portugal,wine,Alentejo

Wine & Dinner of the Month Club - December

[Some of you had been asking about Jeff’s last entry. Sorry to keep you waiting. Computer issues in the Plepysbury household put a momentary hold on the last installment. Enjoy!]

This month’s entry includes classic comfort food for the holidays and for the first time we had guests for the monthly wine dinner. We also got a chance to do a vertical tasting with the selected wine. Unfortunately I was not able to find links to all the recipes, but I have given the sources. Enjoy.

Menu

• Turkish Red Pepper Spread
• Pot Roast with Vegetables (From Better Homes and Gardens Magazine – December, 2010)
• Coconut Custard Pie (From Williams-Sonoma, Pie & Tart, © 2003 by Weldon Owen Inc. and Williams-Sonoma)

Wine

• 2005 Dynamite Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon
• 2006 Dynamite Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon

This wine dinner was extra special because it was on Christmas Eve and Christine’s parents were in town visiting, so they got to see the magic happen. Since we had extra guests I wanted to get another bottle of the selected wine for the meal. Of course, I bought these wines for Christine’s birthday last January, so there was no more of the 2005 vintage available. So instead I picked up a bottle of the 2006 vintage. I figured it would go well with the pot roast too and we would get a chance to compare the two vintages.

The pot roast actually takes about 3 hours in the oven so once I got that in I had plenty of time to prepare the red pepper spread and clean up the kitchen. I find it makes the dinner that much more relaxing when that little chore is already done. The red pepper spread was easy to make in the food processor and then served in a bowl with crackers for a tasty, and actually healthy, appetizer. The red peppers gave it a nice smoky flavor and the spices added a little heat without being over the top.

After the appetizers I plated up the pot roast and we sat down to dinner. The meat was tender with nice flavor from the caramelized onions and the vegetables. I did make one change in the recipe. One of the vegetables called for was a turnip. We couldn’t find turnips so I substituted a parsnip. For some reason the parsnip did not cook as thoroughly as the other vegetables and it was a little hard. I think turnips may be a softer root and would have cooked better with the roast. It was still tasty and I between the four of us, we cleaned up the platter.

The wine had a deep ruby color and a nice flavor that paired well with the pot roast and roasted vegetables.

As you might expect, we couldn’t really tell that much of a difference between the two vintages of the same wine, but we thought the 2005 did have some more complexity in the flavors. This was probably because it had been sitting in our cellar for the last year maturing. If we kept a bottle of the 2006 for the same length of time, I’m sure we’d get the same result.

I had made the dessert earlier in the day because it was meant to be served at room temperature. We had finished off the two bottle of Dynamite Vineyards wine so we opened up a bottle of Beringer dessert wine which had been given to us by our friends and next door neighbors Marlane and Steve. Unfortunately, we recycled the bottle before I had a chance to write this post, and I don’t remember exactly what the wine was. I know it was a botrytis wine, which means the grapes had been infected with a mold spore that causes them to dehydrate and has the effect of concentrating the sugar in the juice. The resulting wine is sweet and we detected aromas and flavors of dried fruit and honey. It went great with the coconut custard pie.

It was a great meal made even better by being able to share it with family. Make sure you check back next month for the last [ed.note – nooooo!!!!] of the Wine/Dinner of the Month Club entries.

The Alphabet Soup Project -- “E” is for “Extract”

Happy New Year, everyone! I’ve neglected the Alphabet Soup Project for far too long. Thought I’d start the new year off right…

At your next wine tasting, you could hear a wine referred to as “highly extracted” and wonder what the heck the pourer is talking about. “Extracted from what?” you might think to yourself before trying your sample. When you do get a sip, what will probably come to your mind is “Whoo…that’s a big wine!” Extract is what makes a big wine “big.”A “highly extracted” wine will likely taste somewhat “chewy.”

Where does this chewiness come from? Think a moment about what wine is – grape juice to which yeast is added. The yeast fermentation creates alcohol. Once the sugar in the wine is converted into alcohol, it’s stored and eventually bottled. The basis of wine is alcohol, any remaining sugar, and what remains of the juice.

Alcohol itself isn’t heavy. (Do a shot of Everclear if you doubt this.) Residual sugar can add weight to the feel of a wine on the palate, but that much residual sugar usually only exists in dessert wines. The heavy feeling of these extracted wines comes from all of the other stuff floating around in the mix.

Along the wending path of fermentation, the wine gathers various elements. “Extract” in a wine means anything that the wine collects or extracts from its surroundings during its creation. Or, in short, anything that doesn’t result directly from the act of fermentation itself.

What do I mean? Red and rosé wine picks up color and tannin from coming into contact with the grape skins during the fermenting process. White wine may gain character from “resting sur lie” (meaning that it sits on the dead yeast for awhile before bottling). Barrels can impart various flavors and additional tannin. Grapes may reflect the composition of their terroir’s particular soil, like the funk of French wines. Winemakers may add additional sugar, juice, or even (gads) flavorings to wines.

Any or all of these things make up “extract,” which gives a wine its particular flavor and character. The level of extract one prefers may be second only to preference for acid in determining the style of wine one will order at a given point in time.

Although it may be absolutely applicable, “extract” isn’t a term that pops up too often with white wines or reds that are traditionally light like Beaujolais. It’s used most often with bigger reds and then, usually, to describe the fullness of the body of the wine and the strength of its primary flavors.

Generally, you’ll hear bigger wines like shiraz/syrah, merlot, cabernet sauvignon, and zinfandel get described in terms of being “extracted.” The level of extract is a major consideration for a winemaker. Wine with less extract will be of a leaner, lighter style – while more extract leads to a chewier, fruitier wine. There is such a thing as too much extract. If a wine is made in an overly extracted style, then any nuance or subtlety of the wine gets blasted out of the flavor by the heavy fruit or tannin.

Through the “oughts,” highly extracted, chewy red wines were in high favor, mirroring what happened with California chardonnay in the nineties. Thankfully (at least in my opinion), winemakers across the board have decided to start moving back to a somewhat less in-your-face style to allow the various components of the extract to make appearances.

The easiest wine for me to use as a demonstration of extract is California zinfandel. Zinfandels as a rule are big, powerful wines. They have full fruit flavors, are high in alcohol, and are usually quite tannic. That particular profile of wine requires a winemaker to create a “highly extracted” wine. It’s very easy for a winemaker to get overly cautious and produce a wine that doesn’t have a lot of body or flavor. It’s also easy to go over the top with extraction and create something mouth puckeringly strong. (Relatively inexpensive zinfandel is notorious for being overextracted.)

I tried a few zins recently that showed off different extraction levels quite nicely. If you’d like to get a sense of the “rules of extraction,” here are a few examples, all $12-18:

Kenwood 2007 Yalupa Old Vine Zinfandel – I would consider this an “underextracted” Zin. The nose is straightforward with plums and menthol. The body is very thin for a Zinfandel. In fact, the wine almost comes across as light-bodied, which is a bit odd. There are some coffee flavors from the tannins, but they’re weak. I tried this wine with dark chocolate, and the chocolate completely overwhelmed the flavor of the wine, which almost never happens with a zin.

Murphy Goode 2007 “Liar’s Dice” Zinfandel – This is the flipside of the Kenwood. I find the Liar’s Dice to be overextracted. Now, some people really like this fruit-bomby style of zinfandel. If you’re into big cherry and blackberry flavors on top of some heavy tannin, then this is your wine. For me, that’s really all there was to it. Big fruit and alcohol. Subtle as a cinder block. There’s a time and place for this kind of wine, but they usually involve loud music and lots of people.

Van Ruiten Vineyards 2007 Old Vine Zinfandel – This is still a really big wine, but they did a nice job with the balance here. The nose is amply filled with vanilla and plums. It’s full bodied and spicy. There’s a lot of fruit here, balanced with a pleasant smokiness, the latter of which intensifies on the long finish. With some chocolate, bacon flavors emerge. This is not a bad thing, by any stretch. For me, the most appropriate level of extract of this sample.

Celebrity

Hello everyone. The Sweet Partner in Crime and I are back from our little sojourn in the Caribbean on the Celebrity Millennium. Yes, I know – rough life. It’s been a heck of a year, and it was a much-needed trip.
But yes, there is a point to this entry. I never thought I’d be a cruise person. Lots of stereotypes about what a cruise “is” lingered – until we did some research and ended up on a Celebrity cruise a few years back. I’m sold.
I’m not a big “shipboard activities” person. I could care less about shows or the “Hairy Leg Contest on the Lido Deck.” When I’m on vacation, I want to unplug – and if I can get good food and wine, so much the better.
Celebrity seems to have carved out its niche with “great service, foodies welcome.” The main dining room had good-to-excellent meal selections every night and the service was sparkling. The SPinC and I especially enjoyed our conversations with our sommelier, May Casapao:
She was very helpful with wine selections and she was one of the most pleasant people (even on the run, which she often was) that I ran into on the ship. She made good suggestions and that smile never left her face.
Our other dining room staff members were solid, as well. Our waiter Melvino (his glove was actually on fire when I took the picture) and assistant waiter Juan provided top-notch service:

I can’t claim encyclopedic knowledge of cruise lines. Celebrity is a little more expensive than lines like Carnival, but it’s so very worth it if you’re looking for an experience like the one we wanted – pampering, limited numbers of “family friendly” attractions, good itinerary, and exceptional food choice. You get to see plenty and you only have to unpack once. Good times.
Hope everyone’s had a good holiday thus far! See you in 2011!

“You Gotta Want The Wine” – Mendocino, pt. 1

The Sweet Partner in Crime’s well-timed conference in San Francisco gave me the perfect opportunity to take a couple of days off, zoom westward, and whisk her away up US 101 North. We plowed past the familiar stops in Napa and Sonoma to drop anchor in Cloverdale, California, gateway to Mendocino County.

Mendocino County is just north of Sonoma County. Cloverdale, about 90 miles north of San Francisco, is actually just on the Sonoma side of the county line.

We chose Cloverdale because it was the vertex of the two major roads – US 101 and CA 128 – heading up into Mendocino County wine country. The well-known 101 goes up along the Russian River towards Potter Valley and Redwood Valley. CA 128 snakes upwards along Dry Creek from Cloverdale towards Boonville and into Anderson Valley before ambling over to the Pacific Coast Highway.

We hitched the wagon at Vintage Towers, a Queen Anne B&B tucked away in a neighborhood a couple of blocks from the main street. It had everything you’d want…great interior, delicious breakfast prepared by Mary Stuart while her husband Don entertained, great spaces to relax, and necessary amenities. By the last, I mean that we were able to get a good enough wi-fi signal to watch the Duke-Colgate game on ESPN3 after we got there.

After we got settled and watched the game, we walked a couple of blocks to Piacére for dinner, a local Italian place. The owner/chef is Hispanic, but he has a serious flair for La Dolce Vita. We started with the most enormous barbecued oysters on the half shell we’d ever seen, topped with diced garlic, clams, parsley, olive oil, and finished with roe. The SPinC had veal & prawns in a lemon butter sauce and I had a “seafood of all sorts” pasta in a tomato-basil sauce. We washed this down with a bottle of Chianti. Mindblowingly good.

We decided to take the Anderson Valley “fork” on our first day. Empowered by an absolutely delicious breakfast at Vintage Towers, we packed up the rental car and headed northward. Our innkeeper made an offhand reference to 128 as “Mario Andretti Highway.” I’ve driven lots of curvy roads before. After all, I cut my driving teeth whipping a 1969 Peugeot 404 around the hollers of Eastern Kentucky. I figured that this would be no big deal.

I discovered that our new friend wasn’t kidding. If you like switchbacks, this is the road for you. Narrow, twisty, speed limit of 25 that’s not a joke. That sort of thing. We forged on, though, buoyed by the promise of scrumptious pinot noir. After about 35 minutes of winding through gorgeous scenery, Anderson Valley opened up before us.

The overall vibe of Mendocino, and Anderson Valley in particular, is very different from Napa and Sonoma. Napa has become, for the most part, an overpriced tourist trap. As Napa wines, as good as they can be, became more and more overpriced, it became the glamour region. Sonoma prided itself on being “not Napa.” They cultivated a laid back image, which made it very popular with wine lovers who wanted to avoid busses of bachelorette parties doing wine shots. But with success and increased visibility comes the need to live up to one’s press clippings. Sonoma seems to be shading from “laid back” into “hipster” territory. Too cool for school in many ways.

Mendocino, and Anderson Valley in particular, is geographically buffered from casual wine tourists. It’s a little too far from San Francisco for an easy drive – especially since you have to go through Napa and Sonoma to get there, so most people stop short. Once people get to Cloverdale, CA 128 can be a daunting trip, so the folks who make the trip really want to be there. The tasting rooms, as a result – at least on this weekend, were less crowded and we were able to spend more time chatting with folks and relaxing over our tastings. The majority of the wineries we visited used “organic” productions – certainly in process if not in certification.

Our first stop was Foursight Wines, a small operation run by the Charles family. Turns out that their grapes are the “Charles Vineyard” grapes from Papapietro Perry’s pinot noir – one of my faves. We spent quite awhile talking to Kristy Charles, who had come home after working in the world of public relations to work in the family business, bringing her husband along with her. They take their name from the number of generations that their family’s worked that plot of land. “Welcome to our dream,” they say. The low-yield, handpicked wines, fermented with wild yeast instead of cultured strains were an absolute delight. The highlights for us were the “Zero New Oak Pinot,” an elegant, meticulously balanced pinot noir and their Sauvignon Blanc, which was bright, lovely, and lean – very much along the style of a good white Bordeaux.

We spent quite a bit of time at Toulouse Vineyards working our way through their solid range of selections. We met the winemaker, Vern, just outside the door and had a friendly chat with him in the gathering drizzle of this gray day. Toulouse focuses on pinot noir with a few other wines with grapes sources from elsewhere. Their pinots were a more fruit-forward with a little more pepper. Their estate pinot (my note says “exquisite!”) was a glass of velvet with a finish of crème brulee. We had a chance to taste the unfermented pressing that went into the 2008 pinot. 2008 was a rough year for many winemakers in Anderson Valley because of the wildfires. The smokiness certainly comes through in the juice. Many people will turn away from that vintage – I would recommend that you give it a try. It gives an interesting twist.

Another highlight was Roederer Estates, the American production from Louis Roederer, the Champagne house that produces Cristal. We were tended to by Shyla and Pat in the tasting room. (It was Pat’s first day, and she did really well). Roederer Estate’s sparkling wines are some of the best values out there for “midpriced” sparklers. At Roederer, I learned that there’s cache in doing 1.5 liter bottlings of vintage bubbly over the normal sized bottle. The larger bottles carbonate more slowly, yielding a smoother flavor when tasted side by side. That said, of the wines poured, I preferred the 750 ml versions. I liked the bit of sharpness. Their L’Ermitage vintage bubbly was spectacular. Creamy, complex, and luxurious. They also were tasting some still wines, and their still chardonnay was a bargain for a high quality wine.

We made a stop at Standish Winery, which was founded by a direct descendent of Miles Standish (quite a path from Puritan to Premier Cru, no?) The 2007 Bosc Block Pinot Noir was superb – lots of fruit and menthol with plenty of Burgundian-style earth and chocolate to finish. More interesting was Michelle, our tastress, who had moved to the woods of Mendocino County from Columbus, Ohio. She left woodworking school to work in the tasting room.

Another winner was Drew Winery. The tasting room is in what appears to be an opulent, somewhat out of place Spanish villa in Philo. Turned out that the villa was once an interior design firm. The tasting room itself was very understated, as were the lovely, quietly fruity viognier and pinot noirs. However, for me, their 2007 Valenti Vineyard Syrah was an absolute rockstar. Subtle, peppery, and finely balanced, it’s simply a fantastic wine.

Our last stop of the day was Londer Vineyards. Londer Vineyards produces pinots in the $30-70 range and their tasting room is attached to a swanky art gallery. We pulled in there just as a heavy rainstorm was getting cranked up. There we met Joe Webb, one of Londer’s winemakers and the husband of Kristy Charles from Foursight (where Joe also moonlights). He ran us through their offerings. They had a very solid gewürztraminer and some really fantastic pinot. Their “Anderson Valley” pinot, made from grapes chosen from across the county, was the best value we found on the trip. Normally $30, they were selling it half-off by the case on the day we were there. We stocked up.

When we finished at Londer, rain was falling in literal sheets. I gripped the steering wheel hard and slowly crept down the side of the unlit mountain, trying my best to ignore the fact that there was no guardrail. Freeway driving was much easier. We’d had reservations that night at the restaurant in the Boonville Hotel, but we cancelled them, thinking discretion was the better part of valor. We ended up at Tian Yuen, a Vietnamese noodle place in Cloverdale that ended up being very, very yummy. A quick drive from there back to Vintage Towers and we were ready for some rest. After all, we had another full day coming up…

“Smoother Sailing” – Mendocino, part 2

(Click here for Part 1.)

On the second day of our little jaunt through Mendocino County wine country, we were accompanied by Sid, a friend of mine from back in the Usenet days of basketball discussion boards. An Oregonian living in San Francisco, he’d never been through Mendocino wine country and wanted to see what was about. We were more than happy to have him tot us around in a Prius.

The “other fork” of the road from Cloverdale is a much smoother ride up Highway 101. The viticultural areas along that stretch tend to be warmer as they’re farther inland, away from the cooling influences of the ocean breezes. The climate is better suited for growing heartier grapes such as cabernet sauvignon and chardonnay rather than the more delicate pinot noir and gewürztraminer in Anderson Valley. The wines in these regions tend to be less expensive and a little more readily available than their Anderson counterparts.

After a couple of false starts, we found ourselves at Lolonis Winery. Lucky us! Lolonis is an organic producer with an understated warehouse of a tasting room that happened to have a fabulous spread of cheeses for our snacking pleasure. We were their first visitors of the day this Sunday. “We figured everyone would be in church!” they said. Lolonis’ trademark is the ladybug, since they use these cute little critters as pest control. We had long talks with Lori the winemaker and with Petros Lolonis, the owner, who is one of the most charming gentlemen to whom I’ve ever had the pleasure of speaking. He’s quiet & thoughtful – the same adjectives I’d apply to his Redwood Valley Merlot, which at $18 a bottle is a steal. Their petit sirah and late harvest zinfandel (the latter is Cuvee Lorrane, named after the winemaker) are also excellent.
(During our visit to Lolonis, we discovered that we were smack dab in the middle of the Taste of Redwood Valley Holiday Wine Open House and Sale. Oh, darn…)

From there, we made our way to Oster Vineyards, tucked away down a back road. The tasting room is a low, wooden barn where Teresa & Ken Oster make exactly one wine, cabernet sauvignon. When they’re not picking grapes, they’re picking bluegrass tunes – and the wine and music certainly complement each other. Their cab is a balanced, approachable cab with a little bit of a rustic bite at the end that will mellow with a little time lying down. Lots of good berry and tannin even now.

The other winery highlight of our trip was McNab Ridge, where Joseph Parducci does some varietals that don’t show up very often. They make a carignane that smells like a chocolate truffle and a pinotage that’s pretty rugged around the edges but has a really nice heart of blueberries. Their 2006 Reserve Cabernet was just a luscious wine – their first ever reserve offering. There’s “Zinzilla!” – a biga zinfandel that they make year after year. An asskicker. They also had a barrel tasting available of their 2008 cabernet. As I mentioned in the last entry, 2008 was an interesting vintage in Mendocino because of the wildfires. Everyone calls it a “rough vintage,” but is that barrel was any indication, I’m personally going to be seeking out wines from that year. I think that they’ll be unique wines.

A few of the other places we hit on the second day:

Cole Bailey – At the top of a hill at the end of a twisty, muddy driveway sat a somewhat ramshackle tasting room where Bob Anderson held court, pouring his “Sesquipedalian” cabernet and sauvignon blanc. His name may not ring a bell, but he’s better known by his fraternity nickname – “Otter.” Bob was in Alpha Delta at Dartmouth – the inspiration for the Deltas. No, he didn’t say, “Bob Anderson, winemaker – damned glad to meet you,” but he was a very nice guy. His sauvignon blanc was very pleasant, as well. In case you’re wondering, a “Sesquipedalian” is “a sophistical rhetorician inebriated with the exuberance of his own verbosity. In other words, a poser who uses fancy-pants words when simple ones would do.” Alternatively, a wine writer.

Frey Vineyards – Frey claims to be “America’s first organic vineyard” and the winery and tasting room have the exterior look of a commune. While they may be the first, they’re certainly not the best. They’ve become a destination winery for hippies and hipsters. They’ve spent more time culturing their “organic” image than on the quality of their wine.

Giuseppe Wines – a fourth generation winery in Mendocino, Giuseppe was certainly the most lively place that we stopped. They’re focused on making good table wine for Italian cuisine with American grapes. Their Zinfandel isn’t subtle. It’s around 15% alcohol and is crafted to mirror big Barbera, from what I can tell. On the day of the open house, they had a big spread of food out, and this is apparently nothing new. Spaghetti dinners are regular occurrences.

McFadden Vineyard – We didn’t make it to the vineyard itself, but we enjoyed their tasting room. Stick to their sparkling wines and their smooth, subtle whites like their 2006 Riesling. Very tasty.
The three of us also had a very good late lunch at the Ukiah Brewing Company & Restaurant. All the homemade beer and delicious vegetarian pub grub (no…seriously…it’s really fricking good) that you would ever want.

Sid ran us back to Cloverdale for our last evening at Vintage Towers. We relaxed a bit, then headed to La Hacienda, a locally owned Mexican restaurant in Cloverdale. Basic Tex-Mex. Mexican food and beer were a nice change after snorking wine for two days, although the SPinC didn’t much care for her quesadilla.

Alas, our little wine weekend had to come to an end. We were up early the next morning on our way to SFO to head home. Mendocino certainly made its mark on us, though. I used to think that heading back to Sonoma would be my wine destination of choice, but Mendocino certainly has its appeal. I’d head back there in a heartbeat. And if you’re looking for something new, I’d highly recommend this jaunt.
And with that, the Vine is going to take a bit of a sabbatical. Time to recharge the batteries.

See y’all in the new year. Cheers!

Good Bubbly

Sparkling wine is like any other vino in terms of quality. There are super-cheap headache producers, everyday bottles, and loveliness to pull from the cellar when something magical is going on. I won’t touch the first and I’ve talked enough about the second in other columns. Today, we focus on the good stuff.

Sparkling wine, more so than any other type of wine that I can think of, has a “top end” dominated almost exclusively by wines with strong name recognition. Let me demonstrate with a quick game of word association. What’s the first wine that pops to mind when I say “good cabernet sauvignon?” Just answer, don’t think.

Were I able to magically see all your answers, I’d probably have a list of hundreds of brands with prices ranging from fifteen bucks to hundreds. Now, try it again. Do the same thing for “good bubbly.” No thinking – just whatever comes to mind.

I can practically guarantee 95% of you immediately pulled something from this list: “Dom Perignon,” “Cristal (or Louis Roederer),” “Krug,” or “Veuve Clicquot.”

These names rise to the surface for a reason. Yes, they’re excellent wines – and they’ve been excellent wines for decades. Because so few wine makers, relatively, make sparkling wine – the top end sparklers prices’ end up inflated simply because of name recognition. Hooters puts a $200 bottle of Dom Perignon on every menu for a reason, no? You won’t find any of those wines for under $60-70.

The other notable fact – all of these wines are Champagnes. There’s romance in the word “Champagne” which adds several dollars to the sticker price. As we’ve discussed here before, most sparkling wine is not Champagne. For a wine to be truly “Champagne,” it must be made in the Champagne region of France using “Méthode Champenoise” – a particular technique for carbonation and aging. (“That Champagne’s not Korbel” is actually an indication of quality.)

There’s a good reason why these wines are as expensive as they are. Wines made in the Champagne are, on average, more complex and of higher quality than similar wines made elsewhere in the world, even if the same production methods are employed. However, there’s plenty of excellent sparkling wine made in other places without as much notoriety.

During this festive season, there are plenty of occasions for bubbly. Some of those occasions might call for a “better than everyday” sparkler. I have a couple of ideas, and I asked some of my local friends in the wine biz for recommendations on some bottles that would be appropriate for when “good” bubbly is on the menu, but you might not want to blow all of your gift-buying cash in one place.

So, with many thanks to Kevin Keith of DEP’s Fine Wine & Spirits, David Lazarus of Water Tower Fine Wines, and Danny Gold of The Party Source, here are some ideas. First, from France:

Baumard Crémant Brut-Carte Turquoise ($17-23) – from Anjou in the Loire Valley, a blend of chenin blanc and cabernet franc has a crisp flavor of apricots and a very clean finish.

Charles Ellner Brut Reserve Champagne ($30-50) – a classic Champagne. Plenty of earth and yeast on the nose with long flavors of vanilla and honey on the finish.

Piper-Heidsieck Brut Champagne ($40-55) – one of the “just below the top” producers in Champagne. A little more fruit than many, but a consistent, high-quality product that’s been around for many, many years.

Delamotte Brut Champagne ($40-55) – the flipside of the Piper, this one is tart and crisp. Long and complex. The word that I see over and over again in reviews of this wine is “stylish.”

If I’m getting a good bottle that’s not from France, I’m looking to California:

Roederer Estates L’Ermitage Brut ($35-55) – I had the good fortune to visit this winery on a recent trip to California. Roederer Estates is the California branch of Louis Roederer, creator of Cristal. However, for about $80 less a bottle, you can take the cage off a bottle of this beautiful sparkler. Probably as close to Champagne style as I’ve had from an American bubbly. I highly recommend.

Mumm DVX ($40-55) – From Napa Valley, this is the high-end bottling from this very well-known winery. Like Roederer, they put together some very solid $20 bubbly, but if you need something a little higher end with a bit of an edge, the DVX is a yearly award winner.

Schramsberg Blanc de Blancs ($25-40) – K2 calls Schramsberg the “King of the California Sparklers.” Their Blanc de Blancs is a very flavorful, apple-laden blast of flavor that’s a real bargain at the price. I was lucky enough to get a couple of bottles of this as a wedding gift. It doesn’t disappoint.

Iron Horse Russian Cuvee ($25-40) – This sparkler is near and dear to my heart, as I had a chance to try it on our very first trip to wine country. From Sonoma County, this is a little fruity and would probably land in the “extra dry” rather than “brut” category (meaning there’s a little bit of residual sugar). This wine was designed for the Reagan-Gorbachev summit meetings at the end of the Cold War. It’s especially good with a few pomegranate seeds in the glass.

There are also some excellent values from Germany and Argentina, and there’s any number of good producers of Prosecco from Italy. Bottom line? Talk to your local wine merchant. If his or her first recommendation when you ask for “good bubbly” is Dom Perignon, go elsewhere.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Perceptions & Reflection – An exploration of the subculture of wine and society

(Originally published in the Dayton City Paper, December 1, 2010)


Robert Parker, for those of you unfamiliar, is the single most polarizing figure in the wine world. His major contribution to society is the 100-point wine rating scale that you’ve probably seen on the shelf in your local wine and spirits store.

Most wine writers, including myself, don’t care much for Parker – somewhat out of professional jealousy, really, since he came up with a good idea before the rest of us. Largely, however, because it creates a paradigm by which wine can ostensibly be judged objectively,effectively rendering our flowery prose obsolete.

An objective rating does give people permission to try new wines without fear that they’re going to get a bad bottle. A novice wine drinker will assume that the 92-point bottle that they paid a boatload for will be 92-point quality, wherever and whenever it’s opened.

Parker scores his wines at tastings. Controlled settings. Controlled pours. Controlled access. Empires rise and fall on the swirl of Parker’s stemmed glass. But does where you’re drinking wine, who you’re drinking it with and why you’re drinking it in the first place make a difference? I wanted to investigate if these factors play any part in one’s perception of a certain wine.

Honestly, I’m all for the Parker corollary of not being intimidated by a wall of wine in a store because you have at least some idea of what to expect. But is one man’s rating scale universal? Is it even worthwhile to think that way? There’s just something about the notion of one man’s palate and judgment being universal that doesn’t sit well with me.

Studying wine perceptions
In 2008, a group of scientists from the California Institute of Technology and Stanford University ran a fascinating study that hasn’t received the attention it deserves. Why? Because it turned the notion of wine and objectivity on its ear.

In the study, a group of participants were given samples of five cabernet sauvignons and informed that the wines ranged in retail price from $5 to $90. The participants were given a functional MRI brain scan while they tried the wines to see what was going on in their cerebral cortexes.

So, what’s the kicker?

The wines were not what they appeared to be. There were only three distinct wines among the five samples. Two of them were not priced at their normal retail. One was higher and one was lower than actual. What did they find?

“The results showed that increasing the price of the wine increased the participants’ subjective report of the pleasantness of the flavor. However, the MRI scans also showed a higher level of oxygen-level-dependent activity in … the medial orbitofrontal cortex.”

Since I’m not a doctor, I asked Barry Southers, head MRI instructor at the University of Cincinnati’s Advanced Medical Imaging Technology program, for a translation:

“This means the medial orbitofrontal cortex, believed to be a pleasure center of the brain, had increased brain activity (or simply, increased oxygen in the blood going to that region of the brain) when the subjects believed the wine to be more expensive. Basically, they are saying if it is more expensive, people generally feel this is a better tasting wine because the brain believes it.”

In a separate test where the participants weren’t given the prices and were simply asked to go on flavor alone, the $5 wine was rated highest. So, scientifically, marketing affects price, price affects perception and our minds bend the results of those perceptions into a reality that may not be, you know, real.


Into my own hands: a blind tasting
I was so fascinated by this study that I decided to do my own version. I invited a dozen or so of my thirsty wine-drinking friends over and set up my own little test, sans the MRI scanner.

I set out five carafes of wine, labeled A through E. All of them were red blends from Washington State of similar construction – blends of Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Merlot. I put them into two groups.
A and B were identical wines from Renegade Wine Thieves which retail for about $40. I told people that one wine was $15 and the other $40, but I didn’t say which was which. I put C, D, and E in a group. C and E were both a $25 wine called Script and Seal. D was a red blend from Hogue Cellars that you can snag for $8 in most Kroger stores. I said the three wines were $8, $15 and $35, but again, didn’t identify which was which.

I had my guests complete a short survey after tasting the wines. Thanks to some statistical assistance from the Sweet Partner in Crime (a quantitative researcher in criminology in her other life), I ran the data.

When I asked which was most expensive in the first pair, the group split almost evenly between A and B. People’s preferences correlated. 80% of the people who said A was more expensive said they preferred it. People clearly thought there was a difference in flavor – making comments that one wine was “smoother,” “fruitier” and “more complex” than the other.

Among the three-wine grouping, the wine most frequently listed as most expensive was D – which was actually the Hogue, the least expensive of the group. Looking at the identical wines, the findings were similar to the A/B choice. People who thought C was most expensive tended to prefer it, as with E. Interestingly, 100% of the people who listed E as their first or second choice identified C (the identical wine) as the least expensive.

So, what does all this mean? Fun with perception, semi-pseudoscience and an entertaining evening aside, all my partygoers know me well enough to figure that I was probably up to something, so that may have swayed their perceptions (one survey was left blank except for “Dude, they were all the same wine!”).

Much like the difference between Miller Lite, Bud Light and Coors Light, the partygoers’ brains identified differences between identical tastes because I told them there were differences to be found. And, in most cases, people’s preferences tended to follow the wines that they thought were higher priced, and thus, higher quality. One person commented that she selected the wine she thought was most expensive because she liked it the least, which doesn’t change the substantive conclusion in the slightest (this person tends not to like “snooty” wines, so she figured the one she preferred most was the least expensive).

A change of scenery
Even though we have a scientific method for proving that perceptions are mutable, we don’t generally drink wine out of unlabeled carafes and we know what we’ve paid for a bottle we’re uncorking, more often than not.

So, what happens to the flavor and the perception if we “keep the wine constant” in different settings? I thought I’d find a decent bottle in a few different locales. I settled on Steltzner Claret, a red blend from Napa that you can score reasonably easily for around $18.

Thanks to the largesse of DCP’s dear publisher, I had the opportunity to dine at a Dayton institution, the Pine Club. As we nestled cozily into a corner table amidst the 50s décor, I felt a little like Don Draper – minus the skinny tie, multiple infidelities and ubiquitously acrid stench of Lucky Strikes.

When my bone-in filet arrived, I had a glass of Steltzner right by my side. As I made my way through the meal, the wine turned out to be an excellent, flexible pairing with everything from the perfectly-cooked steak, to the creamed spinach, to the rye salt sticks.

I realized I hadn’t paid much attention to the intricacies of the Steltzner during much of the evening. It was there and it was good, but it wasn’t the centerpiece of the meal. The Pine Club isn’t a place for lingering and tasting notes. It’s a place for boisterous conversation and the consumption of mass quantities of cow. At a dining establishment heavy on scenery and the indulging of various carnivorous fantasies – wine should be seen and not heard. It worked wonderfully.

Relaxing environment
As part of my “other life” when I’m not writing about wine, I had to attend a conference in Columbus. I eventually made it home after sitting in interstate traffic for a couple of hours. My wife was kind enough to put together dinner – roasted swordfish steaks with asparagus sautéed in butter, garlic and crystallized ginger.

Like a good wine writer, I tried to break down what I tasted in the wine. I thought the wine had more of a depth than I remembered from the Pine Club … I tasted more dark fruit. I asked myself, “Is that blackberry or currant?” Then I stopped and asked myself, “What the hell am I doing?”

Instead of the combo hustle/bustle of happy hour and an early dinner, there was quiet, there was swordfish and there was room to appreciate what I had in my glass. Yes, I was able to be more analytical, but since I had time to experience the various flavor pieces, they all stepped up and let themselves be known. The wine’s flavors were the same, but the atmosphere gave the wine a different vibe.

Merlot, he wrote…
So, as I sit here at my desk and tap out the last few lines of this little tale, remnants of a nice big glass of Steltzner sits not far from my left hand. I’ve been sipping on it while I’ve been writing this article. Drinking wine engages both taste and smell – the senses most closely tied to memory.

While I may not have my own functional MRI handy, I can guarantee that blood is rushing to memory centers in my brain. I can close my eyes and see the Pine Club’s wood paneling and hear the buzz from the bar. I can feel again how tired I was eating my swordfish and picture my wife’s sympathetic smile.

But the flavor of the wine itself as I’ve been writing? Couldn’t really tell you. I’ve just been drinking it while my attention was focused elsewhere. Stopping for a moment, I can tell you that it’s a medium-bodied blend that’s a less tannic alternative for a Napa wine. Nice full fruit with a chocolaty, coffee-filled finish. And it went really well with my evening’s dark chocolate after I finished this draft (by the way, Parker gave it an 87).

Breaking a wine into its component parts is a skill. There’s certainly a call for that sort of thing. I enjoy learning the differences between wines and being able to articulate how various flavors mesh. There’s a necessary limit, however. One can describe the wavelengths of light in a sunset as well, but why bother? A glass of wine is always as good as we believe it to be.


 

Cover Story!

A little self-congratulatatory post here. An article I wrote about the environment and perception on the tasting of wine made the front page of the Dayton City Paper. I'll be reposting the column itself here later, but I'm pretty stoked about it. Check it out!