It’s been quite awhile. I have only met Lucio a couple of times at tastings and I seriously doubt he remembers me. Italian–definitely. But he doesn’t look like a winemaker… as if winemakers really have a specific look. I’ve seen some in pressed shirts toting a clipboard with orderly attached paper and pen. I’ve seen some looking like they haven’t bathed in a week and mostly drunk on their own hooch… and many all points in-between and for the most part, the wine doesn’t seem to suffer much. The rest is pure personality injected into the bottle. Lucio was an architect before he became a winemaker.
This was a gift from the distributor… not a necessary one, I would buy it anyway. But like, I’m going to turn it down? The Rosso Reserva from the Gemola vineyard–60% Merlot and 40% Cabernet, Bordeaux varietals on Italian limestone… a 19th century necessity thank you Philloxera, allows for the Colli Euganei terroir to really express itself. There is severe earth and rock and meat in the flesh of this fruit. The cow butt is divine (I know… its my way) and though blows off quickly, there is a lingering hint throughout the experience. I’m not sure how much more primal I would want this to get beyond barefoot women with wine stained ankles.
The Monte Rey is what I’m really after. Monterey County Syrah because Lucio said so… basically. But for now I’ll sit and visit with this particular old friend wondering what it will really be like with a few years under its cork.
One of many like this, buried deep beneath stairwell, against foundation, expectations for a well honed stubbornness but instead this dull gumming of disappointment. Thirteen years barrel to bottle to glass and why is that too long? Why should this be so domestically difficult?
I wanted to feel the slow steady pull of tannin, stumble across the uneven structured surfaces like a dusk driven drunk homeward bound on a cobblestone walk, dance barefoot on the balls of the feet, spinning and gliding with the ease amidst rushes and waves of berry and earth and animal lust. And I’m now staring at my glass, the last wallflower leaning, shoulders slouched and head hung, toes tapping to a foreign beat long out of sync.
Maybe delicate a few years earlier; I could have tapped it sooner and it would have sprung forth from the bottle with the spring scent of a darling debutant a week before the prom. Maybe more majestic in its prime, a red wine stained carpet unrolled beneath dignitary stride.
But instead we sit here fumbling with a titch of this, a slosh of that–nothing preeminent, predominate… just post mature…
January’s duty shirked; not fulfilling my obligatory ritual as keeper and deliverer of the monthly wine club characteristics, histories, and descriptors (see previous post as to the most likely whys), I am here now to make amends. I’ve put hardly any thought into this month’s foray of fine absorptions, decidedly due to the mid-winter compiled drab and dreary of what is the Pacific Northwest in early February, a feets on the ottoman type comfort is the most I should push for. These wines are not that much of a stretch. They are for the most part lush and have a considerable lower resonant frequency than previously recent offerings. That means the fruit is a little thicker and the oak a little heavier. It still doesn’t mean you’ll need a spoon and tweezers to remove the splinters. I won’t go that far. You can’t make me.
Basic 2 Bottle Club:
Beresan Merlot 2006 – Washington State.
This bottle contains boutique typical Walla Walla principled bigness: fruit forward with loads of bright cherry, blackberry jam in a very cobbler like way (French oak?). There is some familiar minerality mostly associated with the Walla Walla appellation… 100% Merlot from their estate Waliser Vineyards (50%) and Candy Mountain Vineyard (50%). There were only 200 cases made so consider yourselves of near exclusivity stock. Full flavored heavy meat dishes preferred.
Syncline Subduction 2007 – Washington State.
One of my favorite Washington Wineries: 35% Syrah, 21% Mourvedre, 16% Grenache, 15% Cinsault, 13% Counoise. How bloody close to a Chateauneuf du Pape can you get? The varietals are there, but remember, this is Columbia Valley fruit and not the Southern Rhone. The descriptor on their web site that got my attention: hedonistic. Cherries, pomegranate and blackberry with layers of exotic spices. Licorice, pepper, and a savoryness mingle with the fruit. The flavors are fairly in line with the aromatics. This is a young wine and the fruit is bright. It will mellow with age and air into what is norm for the Rhone varietals Syncline blends. Sausages and cheeses are suggested… and air.
Basic 4 Bottle Club:
Reds:
Club House Cellars Haystack Needle 2006 – Washington State.
A classic Washington young Sangiovese style that is light, bright, and tart. Earthy in a very varietally correct way, it is a little Chianti-like. Bright red fruits: strawberry, cherry, rhubarb, and raspberry in a candy presentation and then earth and leather and dried fruit on the finish. As with all young wine, air helps. Inexpensive and thus dubbed a “recession wine”, feel free to not worry with splurging on pasta, pizza, or burgers.
Val Los Frailes 2003 – Spain
From the Cigales region just south west of Rioja Spain, this wine is made with Tempranillo which is known for its aromas and flavors and elements of berryish fruit, herbaceousness, and an earthy-leathery minerality. This wine is fruity and savory with good structure and tannin. The nose is that of slightly candied red fruit, toasted wood notes, maybe cherry, some smokiness, and then cocoa. I’m thinking fun with stew.
Mercedes Eguren 2006 – Spain
A 50% Shiraz and 50% Tempranillo offering. Supple and balanced with earth, black cherry, cassis and spice. There. That was easy. Actually, this is a really good wine and once on the shelf for $15. We get it now at substantial savings through a direct importer so less is best in this instance. Also, these inserted varietals are 100% estate grown in Rioja Alavesa–a great balancing act between New World and Old World flavors: chocolate and cherry with licorice and pepper notes added to the brawn and guts. Seems reasonable. It has been suggested, Manchego and Parrano cheeses with dry salami.
Veglio Rosso Sinfonia NV – Italy
This is my new favorite pizza wine. My old favorite is still quite good, but I get bored easily. Veglio Michelino & Figlio is a small, family-owned & operated vineyard located in the Piedmont region in northwestern Italy. An everyday table wine, this Dolcetto, Barbera, & Nebbiolo blend exhibits a young and fruity inexpensive character for such usually distinguished and massive grapes, yet its suitably built for… well… pizza.
Whites:
Los Colinas Del Ebro 2008 – Spain White Garnacha
Clean, cool and crisp, with hints of tropical fruit yet very dry, this is a basic summer white to keep chilled in the fridge, ready to break out at a moment’s notice. So the only problem is that it’s no where near summer. But I really like this wine and find no reason to wait for sun and heat. There are still clams and oysters and mussels to munch on and this wine works quite well where a Sauv Blanc would normally lurk. Also, consider it as an aperitif, with bruschetta and jamon serrano, with salads and soups, or a simple grilled (oven sans rain) fish if the sun peaks out once in a while.
Lossterrassen Gruner Veltliner 2008 – Austria
Typical of a Gruner, this bottle projects a fresh, bright, slightly vegetal scented wine with notes of flowers and white pepper accenting the green berry fruits. It is a little acidic and minerally so I’m still thinking oysters. Isn’t everyone thinking oysters? This still is an “R” month. Otherwise this is a fun wine; a little nutty but don’t ask me which kind. The finish has some lingering citrus, mostly grapefruit and more mineral. Overall, quite bright, well-balanced, and again, refreshing.
2 Bottle Terroir Club:
La Massa Toscana 2007 – Italy
Okay. So here come the points. Robert Parker 92 and Spectator 90. Considered a Super Tuscan. This expansive, generous La Massa offers plenty of perfumed red fruit, licorice, new leather and spices. Words like impeccable and opulant come to mind. 70% Sangiovese, 20% Merlot and 10% Cabernet Sauvignon that spent 12 months in oak, 10% new. La Massa remains one of the top relative values in Tuscany with an anticipated maturity from 2009-2017. Layers of spicy herbs, wild cherry and hints of vanillin burst out of the glass. The finish is awesome, long, complex and supple as well. I hope you have a decanter. Braised and grilled meats.
Seccal Valpolicella Ripasso 2005 – Italy
70% Corvina, 20% Rondinela, 5% Molinara, and 5% Croatina. Bright ruby red, rounded, medium-bodied effort that has plenty of juicy cherry fruit. Fresh, upfront cherry nose and spicy richness. Ripe, intense cherry fruit palate. Did I mention cherry? This wine could be an Amarone because of the spice and power if it wasn’t for all the juiciness. Some blackberries, spice, leather and bitter chocolate all have a part to play but that will take a considerable amount of air time to pull out of the bottle. A serious but approachable wine with heaps of character. I’ll take this over the Zenato any day and yes, it does cost more. Steak!
r
It has just recently occurred to me as it has others and by their alerted nudging, I have not written anything here for over a month. As a creature of inspired habits, I can safely say that nothing lately in the world of wine sphere of supply and demand has motivated me to put fingertip to keypad concerning anything fermented from yeasty and fruity extractions. I have actually been reduced to reading quotes to all the incoming vendors and “some” customers from the “shitmydadsays” FaceBook fan page. Entertainment to and fro is essential.
Basically, January is a month for mathematical computations and counting shelf accumulations and personal as well as professional reflection. It’s a great time allotment for an extended sigh before ramping up for the next sequence of hyper momentums: Valentines Day, St Patty’s Day and Easter, Mother’s Day, Memorial Day, Father’s Day, The 4th, Labor Day, Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Years and then… sigh… It’s a great time to weed out the stagnant and past due. In wine retail, it’s a great time to take a vacation.
What keeps us here in this mix?–never having been one for extended periods of utilitarian maintenance, a devout disciple of the church of the “if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.”
Zzzzzzz…
Then ever so often an unsuspected messenger kicks the door down, marches up to the counter and lines up the answer. The oddity or irony of this latest reminder (jarring) comes minutes after I had just explained to another vendor just how tiring it gets having to taste all the wines that come across my counter and my palate and how increasingly unimpressed I have been. How many Duros and Malbecs and Toros and Chards and Pinots and Cabs can I possibly find differentiation with? Yet I must replenish and promote and excite because no two palates are alike and that is what we do.
Enter C & G Imports.
Most previously noted for excellent Portuguese Ports and table wines and Italian Wines, C & G has recently found, stumbled upon, nurtured, or whatever a mighty fine line of French wine that during presentation has shown nothing less than stellar performance, rattling both my craving for the near perfect and my wallet. This morning, the spit bucket was dry and I can’t find the checkbook.
The white Cairanne Cote Du Rhone that deposited an oil slick on the back of my tongue for the ample succulent notes of pear to slip slide about this way and that upon was first out of the bottle. The residue sluggish glistening in the glass was of specific amusement.
Then there was the Lirac, specifically Chante Perdrix. A Southern Rhone (yet 100% Syrah) this was an intensive start to finish blast of savory black pepper and pomegranate, balanced tannin and quite frankly, a food wine I could not bring myself to disturb with food. I have no idea what the savory element was… probably bayleaf. I didn’t care.
The next three wines were near, if not of, upper echelon bottled pre-release barrel samplings of Chateauneuf du Pape… luckily not to be officially available until June (see fore mentioned checkbook issue). They were particularly fruity, almost jammy and would probably sell well at a considerably lesser price than the $70 plus they will bring when they are really ready and full of tannin ad balance and the such.
And last, a Cahors of incredible depth and structure, chewable earth tones everywhere while awaiting the fruit… very very dark fruit and more than a hint of serious longevity was teasingly waved beneath my nose and now will sit rather excessive on the shelf at $58. It is what it is… one of them is mine.
If I could afford to indulge via the wallet and probable deceasing available belt loops, I would drink really good olive oil like a cordial, sipping it throughout the day every day, before the meal and after. As far as nectar from first growths and pressings go, there is not much difference from wine making in the attentiveness to quality… just the type of fruit. The process and product can be traced back some 6000 years in certain parts of the world.
As a species and particular to regions of origins of civilization, we seem to really like our oils, though not many other oils interest me beyond the imbibing kind–like crude for example (and aptly named) where there exists the priorities for the consistent and constant flow as reason for why we do things like offshore drilling, unreserving game reserves, spills, wars, stock fluctuations and a considerable amount of yelling as to who has how much. I’m not really on top of that and I’m not really sure of the context of ‘extra virgin.’ Does this mean there are some more virgin than not or if you buy 5, you get one 1 free or big versus small? And then there is how that all used to translate into potential sacrificial qualifications and royal family alignments that have gone culturally to the wayside… or have they? But I digress…
I do get olive oil; its healing properties and specifically what it does for food. We recently discovered O de Oliva (greater than yer basic virgin) Olive Oil being provided by our favorite Spanish wine importer. This particular offering is 100% from the Picual olive, thought to be initially brought to Spain by Phoenicians and Greeks. The oil denotes a full bodied character, with an intense but charmingly bitter edge. It enhances the flavor of fried foods, especially potatoes (earthy?), is an excellent starter for onion and tomato bases, stews and of course my favorite, sopped up via a fresh chunk of sourdough bread.
It sits on the shelf at $14/btl.
Late in the 7th month and it’s hot even by Mediterranean standards and this little French fishing village, Cote de Azur, Europe’s new Newport and even for 1965 and we are in tuxes because that was the way it was done back then. It’s our 6th straight headliner here and again it is for two straight nights. The tuxes can get a little ripe by day 2, but that’s not what its about. This was about class and letting the cool calm the swelter where you can find it.
And the crowd was jazzed and dressed to kill, but we killed them and they died right that night; the white gloves abandoning their VIP nests overwhelmed by the shrapnel from Coltrane’s tenor–not their usual expected swing fair. But we were already long and gone beyond that. We were the edge.
I suppose we should have popped something a little more locally indigenous, but we’re not indigenous so what would that point be? And who would have thought this was all near its end, being this was new in our minds’ eyes, and those British invasions with basic blues riffs that would filter through the young new whites’ music world and everything John and Charlie and Miles laid down, all those winged improvisational complexities, would fade away labeled as someone else’s music–not hip anymore. Who would have guessed this was the only and last time we would do that whole Love Supreme suite and even for 48 minutes. When it’s the end, ya just gotta let it end…
I have to admit I’ve been bored with the juice for a very long time. There’s not much I haven’t tried but plenty of places I’ve never been, living vicariously through the land and people specific nuances within the bottle, spending numerous evenings in brash, boisterous and frenzied camaraderie with the personalities behind the wine, without ever being in front of the person. I needed to know the cause before the effect, the initiation–the seed, the story which may now be as important, if not more so, than the final product. And maybe that’s the issue–once the bottle rests on the shelf, it is done and I’m done. The piece is finished. The canvass is dry, procured and hanging for the sole purpose to collect dust. The taste secondary, I now need the story to grow, to become legend and maybe I need to be part of the legend making process. I need the poetry to never end; to just rest, waiting patient then morph from one revision to the next. I want to be the reviser.
“But vintages change and are independently particular–and peculiar”, she mused staring through translucence, tilting her glass, finding the light source through and beyond. “And each one has stamped upon it’s label the trials and tribulations of climate and economics and even political climate. Shouldn’t that be the never ending story?”
Those are environmental defaults, mostly out of the hands of control… a mostly unpredictable given to be negotiated or circumvented. It’s business. I want the source of the passion, whether sheer ego driven or time honored tradition, or both. It doesn’t matter which, and I want it to bloom beyond the bottle–fictitious or not. I want to taste the risk in each sip, the sacrifice, the agony before the achievement. I want to interpret the final expression… define whether the satisfaction is worthy and then I want to take it beyond.
“Your palate is not that good and besides, we have markets that do all that and critics and rating systems and Parker.”
They rate the juice against an acceptable finished standard. What if we were to look at a standard of drive and process where the end result fluctuates dynamically–undefined–non-absolute? Think of the winemaker as artist, never having to explain the why or the what that was tossed in for whatever inspiration was at hand, then the unrepentant unmitigated gall and I get to interpret it all via a reality or fiction of my own choosing, writing a story, a tale that might have been, might still be, or not–whether all that really transpired, or not.
“Of course you realize, you will slam head on into capitalism and market manipulation and you know how much that makes you crazy.”
There could be a market, where creative license comes into play and it will be the passionately curious that will find their way to it. They are the worthy: independent of the markets–price and availability irrelevant…and brand be damned… the devil’s spawn.
“But you are talking about projecting someone’s wine into something it isn’t. Are you attempting to start a career as a professional charlatan?”
I’m talking about interpreting the uninterpretable and my final product being as infinitely elusive as the bottle on the shelf should be. And I much prefer the title of snake oil salesman and wheel reinventer.
“I thought you wanted to be the reviser,” she said, pouring what was left of her glass into the sink–a look of disappointment and disapproval as the wine of her inspection and critique slowly worked its way back to its origins. “Is there money to be made in this?”
Probably not.
A solstice on near horizon, stars aligned and thoughts of renewal, out with the old–in with the new… and peace and all quite serendipitously apropos as we are highlighting the wines of old friends; not necessarily a re-introduction but more of a rediscovery and continuation because gaps happen. We will sing songs of expressive Cabernet, and influences of Bobal, and Petit Verdot flamenco style.
Thanksgiving feast aside and beyond, a momentary lessening of earthly fowl gobbles until a new momentum builds, first awaiting the demise of leftovers hiding behind the milk carton and pickle jar, we now being at the mercy a different gobble and different foul. The new rumblings are in the form of market manipulations from large distribution houses absorbing brands from the lesser eclectic, shelving and dismissing what the mass market can’t identify with, promoting the varietals that move. I see this with Syrah and Malbec and it reminds me of Rice Krispies and Wheaties and their multitude of knock-offs and my nature is to scurry toward the under counter underground for the sake of all that is good and right and accessible. Will the 3-C’s of the apocalypse (Carignan, Counoise and Carmenere), fade into oblivion to sate this hunger for market share? Will the small and unconnected fall to the wayside? Will we be imbibing out of choice or confusion? Our shelf space reflects the availability of wines of distinction. They are under a current siege of reduction. Guerrilla tactics manuals are on order.
Two Bottle Club:
Willis Hall Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon 2004 - He wanted to stay and offer more beyond regulatory guideline and restriction would permit and we would have let him and maybe we would have let that happen all night and into the morning–this, a recent delving and sampling of his current production brought us to the conclusion that his Merlot would be the best offering for this month, the Cab not first and foremost on our minds, and this is what happens when we are lured from positions of vintage acknowledgeable requirements–of patience. The next day, what was left in the bottle matured and mellowed and the fruit forced its way forward. So when John states, “This wine should be vigorously decanted prior to serving”, we should take proper heed. It can be approached but it will require ease and if a rebuffing occurs, we should not take it personally. The usual accoutrements apply for this Cab: big juicy steaks, bold sharp cheeses, heavily herbed and exuberantly peppered dishes. Patience!
Casa de Illana 3de5 Crianza 2004 - Spain (35% Tempranillo, 25% Bobal, 20% Syrah, 20% Merlot and a 90 Point bestowing from Robert Parker). Bodegas Casa de Illana is called Finca Buenavista, and it was built in 1626, still in the same family which has been making wine for four generations, and the philosophical center of the winery: of tradition and artisan spirit. We attach ourselves to like-mindedness–the soul centric origins and beginnings guiding our path. This is Basi and you can sense the connection, listening to his passion for his homeland and its bounty. But so much new French and American oak and we feel Parker’s presence breathing and residual condensation on the freshly uncorked bottle and yet there is a luscious old world flare and fine leather warmth layering over black plum skins, and tomato leaf with thyme. The tannins have withdrawn their claws, happily wiggling their toes in earthy nuance and wallowing in the ripe fruit. I’m not sure what entree would not go with this wine.
Four Bottle Club:
The Renegade Wine Co. Columbia Valley Red Wine – 2008: a coagulation from Slight of Hand Cellars and Trey Busch, it boasts a suspect black and white label, duel pistol perched Poncho Villa and the required villainous verbiage: “Glasses? We don’t need no stinking glasses!” Normally I run from such display or minimally it sways my palate into the realm of unreasonable expectation, and from that point on, the wine doesn’t stand a chance. But the price was nice and even though I found it uneventful and dull at first sip, I sensed a pleasantness of safe comfort that could arise into an awakened state of lackadaisical lounge, a great place to be on certain afternoons. The contrariness to the branding of course, intriguing. But what really nailed me was after it had been open for a couple of hours and with spicy hot turkey noodle in hand and garlicky lemon hummus on the side, I suddenly became a very surprised and happy man. Odds bodkins! It is a renegade! A blast of raspberries with a little black pepper from this Syrah, Grenache, Sangiovese and Merlot and maybe stew and a burger would work for you… in case there is no spicy turkey noodle soup and hummus within reach.
Bodega Goulart Classico Malbec 2008 – Argentina. This label is simplistic. And Malbec can be simplistic. And so can a bag of hammers as it simply whaps you upside the head with a purple punch, leaving you tooth stained and numb, standing stunned and looking… well, like a simpleton. I find, and even in this price range, the Goulart to be a little more. It projects pure purple but in a little more translucent way than most Malbecs. The fruit seems more prevalent from middle to finish and I don’t mind that sort of momentum. There’s a somewhat restrictiveness to it, like it’s been bred to hold back out of the gate and down the stretch. And why kick the door down each time… why ascend to trounce the field at each turn? Beats me. Serve with Malbec friendly fair. You know what that is by now… see second paragraph from the top.
Bodega La Aldea 2008 – Spain. 100% Monastrell from 100% Jumilla and again, 100% Basi. No really, he is as attached to the brand as one can get without making it and it is made by Agustí Torelló, cava maker extraordinaire… also in Basi’s book and it is better than the previous vintages we’ve displayed and sold in the past. Ripe fruit of blackberry, black cherry and raspberry jam persuasions all combined with earth and spice. It drinks well fast and sometimes at a too furious ease depending on which roasted meat you are washing down. I’ve tried just sipping this and have succeeded in stretching the bottle foodless throughout the evening. But with food… best to get another bottle started.
de Jaja de Jau 2008 - French Sauvignon Blanc. A Vin de Pays D’Oc which means it comes from somewhere in the lower Languedoc.. a poor man’s grape? A nice roundness with regard to the nose with honey notes and I’m thinking of something in the nature of rubber but not tire. And the grassy gooseberry and definitely cat pee is no where to be sniffed. Typical sun drenched varietal citrus: lemon and lime and on the palate there a creaminess (more sun?). Jaja is an old French slang word for a glass of wine and maybe or maybe not there might be a sisterhood involved. Me thinks shell fish with this one.
Oisly et Thesee Cheverny 2008 - French Sauvignon Blanc and Chardonnay. Stolen verbiage from myself, a plagerization of a previous notation on this wine as a Thanksgiving potential. Redundancy is what it is:
I have a special place in my heart (on my tongue) for the minerally and savory when it comes to fowl, celery, and sage. I initially tasted this Cheverny last week and the first thing that popped into my mind was how it would meld with the celery and sage dressing, it’s grassy mineral overtones, a little gooseberry, and the creamy texture and this can only be extracted from a Sauvignon Blanc/Chardonnay blend and particularly from the French central Loire Valley. The finish just lingers with a touch of twang. How this will pair with other aspects of the meal such as the cranberry sauce is a little suspect.
Because sometimes the Christmas dinner can look and taste very familiar from one just a month past. If you go the way of prime rib, see below.
Terroir Club:
Ribera de Duero Arzuaga Crianza 2004 – Spain. Consisting of mainly Tempranillo (Tinto Fino), Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot with a knock-out nose of spicy oak and jammy cherry, a raspberry chaser with lavish oak, this is by far the roundest medium to full-bodied Spanish wine I’ve ever tasted. This is a serious comfort wine easily worthy of cocktail status… no food required and maybe none desired. Deep dark red in color, smooth and complex on the nose and that extreme woodiness creates a richness on the palate with definable yet integrated tannins and it still retains its fresh pure fruit characteristics complementing its dense and earthy palate. Was that clove? Still a very young wine (Crianza) and promising, keep it hidden for a little while or decant aggressively.
Finca La Verdosa: D.O. Arrayan Petit Verdot 2004 - 100% Petit Verdot (you read it right). Again a wine from Basi Rodriguez and Casa Ventura, maybe the best on that shelf (apologies to the Mas Sinen Priorat?), maybe because of the varietal and the way the Spanish are melding the new world/old earth processes and this varietal that might be just the one that responds the greatest with the least amount of attentiveness. I’m guessing, or dreaming. Eleven months in French oak, the difference between French and American oak enlightens the most restrained palate and here there exists the core of this wine: a concentrated deep cherry, cocoa & coffee (mocha… maybe powdered?). Vanilla and mineral and more dark fruits tumble and brawl midway until the finish of Mediterranean spice as ancient as the earth from which it was harvested. Was that cumin?
r
This is last in a series on wines we are suggesting for Thanksgiving dinner. It is of course, dessert.
These tawny ports are the best we have found on the market, fully enjoying the ’77’s for the most part and we have even opened a $450 1951–just because we had to. There may be more in the way of celebratory relevance than Thanksgiving needed for that splurge, but if you should choose to go the expensive route, these ports, being subject to air penetration through the barrels for the many years they are aged, will sit on the kitchen counter for many a day or week without too much of a noticeable change in quality. They eat oxidation for breakfast.
However, we are pairing this port with pumpkin pie, so maybe even the ‘77 half bottle for $63 might be a bit much. Instead, we suggest the 10 Year Tawny.
The 10 Year Tawney is so well developed that it has the quality of most 20 Year. With five more years of development than most 10 year olds, Kopke would qualify as a 15 Year old if that category existed. At $16 for a half bottle and $29 for the 750ml, this is the best bang for the buck available.
Honey colored, with deep ambrosial flavors and mouth-filling richness, the caramel and nuts and butter nuances go perfect with the cinnamon, allspice, ginger, vanilla and clove spices in pumpkin pie filling and even with the flaky crust… butter quantity relative. Finish this off with a cappuccino, a piece of chocolate, and a cigar on the side and you should be good until Christmas…
r
Our neighbor, she’s about 83 now, is making googly-eyes at the elderly gentleman across the way–intentions appearing mutual. The procession is up and down as any a Mass will go, cantor monotoned but in a perfectly pitched way. Knowing her well, I could lean over and say, “You know, if you wanna get laid, I hear church is a great place to start.” But she’d hoot and howl, pinching my cheek and giving a twist like times before, like one of my aunts used to do and I’m thinking it best if I probably not go there, considering all the prevailing circumstances of rite and ritual before us.
Another neighbor kneeling before her bishop and after a long and difficult journey toward realization and fruition of accumulative hard work, calling, and devotion is being ordained priest amidst husband, parishioner, friend, family, and bishop alike. She is aglow. We all gathered to acknowledge and congratulate and celebrate her, knowing well in knowing her, how significant her contribution to a greater purpose will be–embracing her… as folk of this sort are seemingly in short supply.
Scanning the shelves, trying to find a find a fermentation worthy of that moment, this Gavi is what I came up with. Don’t ask me why.
r
The following is a third in a persistence on wines we are suggesting for Thanksgiving dinner.
Many of note and then safely played by those who follow those of such note have usually fallen back on Pinot Noir as the best and secure red wine for turkey and all its accouterments. It is true, the raspberry, cherry, sometimes strawberry and light tannin weigh easy on the bird and vice versa. Of course, one element from our point of view comes into play when repetitive pronouncements of ease are annually announced… Boring! Also, we love really good Pinot. The question needs to be asked: why waste a really good expensive Pinot on a turkey and why settle for a lesser one because of the turkey? The answer is quite simple. Don’t. Try something else.
May we suggest: Zweigelt. This is an Austrian varietal and is quite similar to Pinot Noir in texture and viscosity. It also is light in fruit but can be a little heavy on the tannins. What I like about it is its propensity for a wee bit of a rustic old world bite. I’d love to call this phenomenon, rusticicity. But that word doesn’t exist and certain permissions have not been granted without fear of reprisal. Basically, there is a slight funky green to it, much like a young Cab Franc before it mellows over time and gets silky. Occasionally, Blaufrankish (Lemberger) is blended which also allots for some additional acidity. Acidity = food fun. These are both climate hardy grapes from climate hardy peoples. Another interesting element for the frugally minded is price. The Hugl Weine pictured is a full liter for around $16.00.
The Gamay varietal also carries about 
it bird friendly virtues. This grape is found bottled as Beaujolais just south of Burgundy, but can also exist in a drier and earthier form from the Loire region, such as Anjou and Touraine. Me likes ‘em all.
We’ve enjoyed the Pierre Chermette of Vissoux many times before and have found it to be incredibly tasty at the $20 level. A Peter Weygandt selection, it is assembled with only indigenous yeasts and with barely if any manipulation. This is full ripened Gamay at its most elegant and unindustrialized. I borrowed this description from Weygandt’s site because I can’t write it any better:
“Striking robe intense and blue-purple. The nose is pure, but discreet, the palate expresses itself fully, with both vivacity and a beautiful persistence of ripe fruit.“
–Revue du Vin de France
The following is second in a continuation on wines we are suggesting for Thanksgiving dinner.
The Thanksgiving Day feast has one common denominator amongst all the potentials that are touching and overlapping, (and sometimes piled up) on one’s plate. Somehow, all these different tastes and textures, by hook or crook, fault or default, are destined to be touching, overlapping, and piled upon each other on the same plate. Sometimes they even all fit perfectly between two slices of bread for that little snack later when the guests have left. The problem: matching wines for a meal that really traditionally has no definable courses other than dinner and dessert. This post will deal with 3 whites of similar nature but totally different flavor enhancements that can cover that spectrum.
I have a special place in my heart (on my tongue) for the minerally and savory when it comes to fowl, celery, and sage. I initially tasted this Cheverny last week and the first thing that popped into my mind was how it would meld with the celery and sage dressing, it’s grassy mineral overtones, a little gooseberry, and the creamy texture and this can only be extracted from a Sauvignon Blanc/Chardonnay blend and particularly from the French central Loire Valley. The finish just lingers with a touch of twang. How this will pair with other aspects of the meal such as the cranberry sauce is a little suspect. That’s why there’s three whites.
We have featured the Tucker 
Gewurztraminer many seasons before. It has the capabilities of going with most of everything on the table right up to that last ever so delectable yet potentially uncomfortable “pushing the limit” bite of pumpkin pie… and even the cranberry sauce. This Yakima Valley Gewurzt has just the right slight amount of residual sugar which allows all that fall apple and pear fruit and acidity to do its thing on the palate with each bite. A Riesling of similar character would also suffice, but Gewurzt has that little bit of spice that takes it over the top.
If you aren’t all that crazy about minerality and acidity and a little sweet spice, we are offering Mirth as a compromise in the form of a Columbia Valley unoaked Chardonnay from Corvidae Wine Company, a collaboration with David O’Reilly from Owen Roe. The total removal of the toasty component of oak’s influence (over- influence on many a Chardonnay) allows this wine’s more creamy fruit forward characteristics to meld with much that’s on the table. It does have some acidity, enough to qualify it as ‘food friendly’.
All of these offerings are extremely value oriented: $11, $8.60, and $9.68 respectively so having extra lying about for leftovers is highly recommended.
r
The following is first in a series on ‘food friendly turkey hooch’.
I’ve started assembling wines for that can accompany in part or encompass (difficult) in a complimentary fashion, all the elements of a traditional Thanksgiving Dinner. Of course, there can and most likely will be tangents toward the nontraditional and these wines can and most likely will also pair well with them. There are no absolutes. This is usually quite easy to remember due to the triggering mechanisms offered by distribution. Most of our reps are making their rounds with oodles of potentials and possibilities. I have in narrowed them down to the probable as far as what we will be stocking on the shelf.
First up is a Rose’ Prosecco from Italy, specifically Veneto. Prosecco is dry and straw-like, some will have a little more floral on the nose and some can be too fruity for our tastes. Substitutes can include but are not restricted to Spanish Cava, a French Cremant, or Champagne. Personally, I like to keep the expense reasonable, specifically when the first wine presented is generally for palate rejuvenation and to instigate appetite… and conversation.
Octane is at 11%, so there shouldn’t be much in the way of unscheduled face plants right out of the gate. The turkey usually nudges one into a fuzzy head nod state anyway without the help of alcohol.
Normally, we tend to walk the purist path of driest and clearest concerning Prosecco, but this one really caught my eye and palate with that little hint of berry right on the tail end of the finish that the touch of red grape skins provide. Also, though seemingly pink thus festive… it’s not really pink. The color is a more translucent brownish or prunish in an old world way–unfiltered looking. However, the palate is crisp and clean, worthy to peel away for pre-feast prepretory purposes any post breakfast residuals.
Add to the bottle presentation a string instead of cage to secure the cork and I think this is a real fun way to start the feast… and at under $13.
r
He wants to believe he has long since moved on; that this is not about how he used to react with such a wine, how he used to be drawn in before he understood nuance and the complex nature of the preferred intelligentsia , how he formerly acted on impulse as any impetuous youth lacking experience would. The arrogance of invisibility flowing within his veins and from his glass then, and replaced now with the arrogance of pretension. He stands before himself, the epitome of the snob in denial.
And now this she, a previous he? Never before existing in this form within his memory; in his dreams. If this grape ever before had even a hint of a femininity, insatiable it should be, always available with little attention from the art of pursuit.
And here she sits uncellared, a product amazingly thin and refined though not in the least bit subdued but with underlying notes of delicacy and yet, with purpose far beyond submission. Her beauty and balance exhausting, the result of craftsmanship and honed detail, this angel of vineyards strained beyond tolerance gives forth a purity rarely found in such a bottle. It also is rarely found–a gift from from a friend procured on the way home and maybe tonight was the wrong place and time… or not.
Not that I’m into judgmental comparisons (except with wine) and I’m
especially not into critique even with wine, being that so much of everything is subject to the subjective, but I think at times, certain differentiations need to be brought to light.
First of all, for those who want to dive headlong into the painstakingly time consuming much farther down the road economically fulfilling life of a winemaker and bypass all of that boring ‘details-details-details’ stuff ASAP, hitting it big right out of the gate with a high price tag and stardom and the such, please take note. The photo on the right is that of a rock star who does not make wine (albeit one who has one helluva wine cellar).
For those who are driven by the purest of passion for their craft and are willing to endure whatever it takes to bring that passion to fruition, and in this case, creating a varietal correct expression of Washington State grapes giving all they can give in a quite boutique small production fashion, then note the photo on the left; that of an accomplished wine maker but probably minus the limo. Though, I think he does have groupies.
This happens to be John Bell, owner and winemaker of Willis Hall who will be in our shop for a tasting of his current releases this coming Friday from 4pm to 7pm. The guy with the mutant bass guitar is Getty Lee, has a prior engagement and can’t make it. We are very happy John can.
This month’s wine club wines:
2 Bottle Basic
Hightower Murray Red Syrah 2007 – Red Mountain, Washington. Mostly Syrah with a little Viognier Rhone style and 100% Red Mountain juice, this first Syrah attempt for Hightower is packed with dark red raspberry notes with a classic leather tinge. The spice on the nose seems to a subtle cinnamon like spice and on the finish there is bitter sweet chocolate. Handpicked and hand sorted, gravity racked during barrel aging, and only 249 cases made and we are talking attentive wine making… lucky you. I’d go straight for the grilled steak with this one.
Vina Mayor Tempranillo 2007 – Toro, Spain. Toro is an up-and-coming wine region renowned for its big fruit forward quality reds. Robert Parker is very capable and renowned for handing out high marks for wines from there. This one is huge, but not as big as some Tempranillos I’ve tasted from Toro. Tempranillo, BTW, is to Spain what Cabernet is to France so again, this is another meat friendly red. Saucy and seductive, this wine carries with it aromas of herbs, leather, and exotic spices behind that fruit first punch. I also find it to be a little rustic and not so silky, which is fine since I am too.
4 Bottle Value
Coto Hayas Tinto – 2008 – Campo de Borja, Spain just southeast of Rioja and Navarra. Grapes have been grown here for over 800 years. The estate uses primarilyold vine Grenache – some of their Grenache vineyards were planted over 100 years ago, the average age is over 40 years. This wine is a blend of 50% Grenache, 20% Tempranillo, 20% Syrah and 10% Cabernet Sauvignon. Racy and juicy, with forward strawberry, raspberry and leather aromas followed by a zesty, bold mouthful of plum fruit and black pepper. Long and deep for a youngster, with warmth and spice. I see visions of a slow roasted bird.
Estampa Reserve Cabernet-Carmenere-Petit Verdot- 2006 – Chili. This is one of our serious new value wines. An intense garnet red color leads to a nose of ripe red fruits and plum. Followed by complex notes of herbs and coffee, the flavors show great personality and concentration on the palate, with ripe fruit and spice. The Cabernet Sauvignon contributes character and a harmoniously melded structure, while the Carmenere and Petit Verdot bring notes of dried flowers and herbs. Very smooth and easy drinking. This is great with red meat, specifically Prime Rib with all that marbled fat.
Bermier Chardonnay 2008 - Vins du Pays Jardin de la France. Some of you have visited this wine before. I can’t seem to stay away from it so I’m running through the club again for those who have not tried it. This wine is produced by the three brothers Couillaud at the Château de la Ragotière a few minutes from the Atlantic near the mouth of the Loire River where the maritime climate is ideal for producing whites that are refreshing and bright. The Couillaud’s age most of this wine on its lees until bottling to add weight and texture with around 10% being barrel fermented in French oak for the faintest touch of toastiness. There is an abundance of citrus aromas with a juicy, slightly rich mouth feel and refreshing mineral finish. Serve with white fish, shellfish, and cream sauces.
Denis Gayte Harmonie Cotes du Rhone – 2006 -France. 40% Grenache Noir, 30% Syrah, 205 Carignan, 10% Mouvedre. This relatively new, American owned winery was founded in 2002 by Denis Gayte, then only 28 years old. This 2006 is one of the first to see our shores. Reddish purple in color, the wine gives off notes of bright strawberry and granite, along with other mineral undertones. The strawberry flavor widens on the palate and is joined by black cherry and a hint of vanilla, all held up on a firm but balanced medium bodied structure. This wine is one of those great no-brainer food pairs, appropriate with anything from pasta to red meat.
La Fay d’Homme Muscadet 2007 – Loire, France. We are definitely in the midst of months with ‘R’s’ and that means oysters. My favorite wine with raw oysters is a dry French Muscadet and those that requested more than one white wine in the wine club had better get to Taylor’s Shellfish Farm and load up. For a Muscadet this young and fresh wine with white fruit aromas and a slight mineral flavor is supple, round and fruity yet still acidic enough to evoke that ‘twang’. . Server with… um… oysters.
Two Bottle Terroir
Marchese Antinori Chianti Classico Riserva – 2004- Italy. Produced exclusively from the finest, most highly selected grapes grown on the Antinori estates of Santa Cristina, Pèppoli and Badia a Passignano in the Mercatale Val di Pesa zone of the Chianti Classico region, this wine is 90% Sangiovese and 10% Cabernet Sauvignon. For this outstanding 2004 vintage, the wine received a rating of 89 points from Wine Spectator. It is dark ruby-garnet in color and on the nose, it has pronounced cherry and violet notes with nuances of tobacco. Full-bodied with remarkable depth and structure, it shows flavors of blackberry, raspberry, chocolate and spice. Beautifully balanced to enjoy now, this red has the potential to reward cellaring for another 8-10 years. It is long and silky smooth on the finish. Serve with osso bucco, lasagna, veal Milanese, grilled vegetables, and aged cheeses.
H&B Cote du Roussillon – 2005 -France. Gregory Hecht and François Bannier are wine producers in Languedoc-Roussillon, considered by Robert Parker as “an incredible source of supply”. This B & H Côtes du Roussillon Villages 2005 is a gorgeous wine. Outstanding fruit, freshness and well -balance and a purple robe that has a fresh nose with scents of stewed fruit, violets, plums and figs. The palate is voluptuous and reveals notes of vanilla, spices and pepper. The persistence of the finish is surprising. 91 Points Parker. Serve with lamb.
enjoy
r
… and I believe that is what Nerosso means. This southern Italian wine has an ancient heritage consisting of some of the oldest varietals in Puglia (pronounced pool’ ya and geographically speaking–Italy’s long stiletto heel); a blend of Primitivo, Negro Amaro, Malvasia, and Uva di Troia . Primitivo is genetically identical to our Zinfandel, but when put to Mediterranean barrel and bottle, eons apart in style and presentation. Regardless, wines with huge fruit and girth are not something this region shies away from. It also helps that the winemaker has much expertise with varietals and style from Valpolicella where heavily extracted Amarone is made.
I remember the usual Italian nose, a little primal at first but then a lush rush on the senses. Intense, full-bodied, massive in character reflecting the sun-drenching the region gets, the finish is silky and satisfying. Aging in small oak barrels for 3 months has given it a softness and elegance.
This would mostly be perfect with roasted meat, game and aged cheese. I can think of it being quite adequate by itself in front of a cozy fire with book in hand.
It currently rests on the shelf at $16 per bottle and will likely be presented at this Friday’s tasting.
ment Georgiann’s mushroom infested chicken soup. A minerally white is preferred with all that earthy goodness, but a Gamay in the way of a Beaujolais or even Anjou might do. A tenderness in the ear canals and buzz about the brain that is causing concern for any near future tasting of anything. No matter, we have no Gamay in the cellar. It is on the shelf.I awoke this morning with a burning desire to shake loose recently accumulated cobwebs concerning what constitutes wine worthy of our shelves, worthy of the curious nature of our customers and selves, and worthy of our undivided attention, and who specifically we partner with when procuring that which comes available. I generally hate mission statements. I find them to be required by the laws of the nature of perception and agenda to be about 90 percent hype. But I’m also attached to the concept of niche.
I have gone around and around in my head as to what really motivates certain distributors to present to us what they do. On more than one occasion and specifically recently, I have been enlightened to the leveraged side of which way the wine flows and why. There are too many houses that are about moving boxes over relationship and quality, some that should probably just stick to beer. Some are perched purely existing as the equivalent to an institution on welfare. Banks and insurance companies already have left a foul enough taste in our mouths concerning that method of being. Now enter the realm of territorial exclusivity and initiative lacking distribution. Measuring our available space for any and all things moving through the three-tiered system, it has become apparent that we just can’t be all things to all people be it customer or provider. A honing is in order.
I have to admit, a huge part of this thought process was initiated by an article written by NY Times wine critic Eric Asimov concerning the style of wines stocked in the cellars of top San Fransisco restaurants, restaurants that collectively project the epitome of the “buy local” ideal; oddly or maybe not so much, their leaning heavily toward European wines and the food centric reasons why. I’ll let the story speak for itself:
http://thepour.blogs.nytimes.com/2009/10/20/ripeness-isnt-all/
But lets just say I’m feeling quite validated in many of my previous perceptions and assumptions. We are about the food and the enhanced experience the wines provide. We should provde what we are about. I am in no way claiming that to be a new and improved mission statement.
r
“Rigid and austere”, he said. But I wanted to think of parlor antics as a little more jovial–maybe playful to the point just short of a tease–maybe on the edge of cruel. There had to be rules for out of hand pranksters and this was the Queen’s parlor, but this was also Paris and a peak time for irrational exuberance and boisterous vibrato projecting the debonair and the suave, the glamorous and chic, all with the right amount of portioned intellect and years before the Reich had different ideas. Had the Queen known what was to come, no one would dare be caught with their pants down; the front watchful, alert, fortified. But the Queen can’t foresee all and most likely some parlor play on late summer afternoons were pants optional.
I wanted this Saint-Emilion on that parlor table, breathing, waiting for release. I wanted it with all its rigid and austere nobility to peel ritual and ceremony from its shoulders. But it held firm and defiant. And why wouldn’t it? What could it care about flippant bourgeois play times in Paris and with the overlord himself pronouncing it of, “impressive maturity and substance, well-made.” How could it possibly allow itself to let its hair down?
But court jesters are only there to please the court, and on late summer afternoons in royal parlors, the imbibement of the day is always Champagne, as if any or all need more of a tickling, and that of deep black cherry ruby and purple character again must wait for more serious times…
The hand pale and emaciated thinks twice...
I always start out waiting for something of substance to pull me in, not liking thus not wanting to dive headlong into a scenario that more than likely will gravitate to a situation, because I have ignored the divine rules of discovery before. I’ve been snagged so many times with the promise of fruition, knowing the risk, and still I can be blinded by the light. My nose and palate rarely fail me, yet I can frequently disappoint them. Experience dictates I should know better.
Upon first sniff there was nothing, maybe a medicinal discharge that, had it color and form, would have formed a plume over the bottle as the cork dislodged. There was massive fruit once the air did its thing but it triggered a sense of viscous sludge masquerading as syrup, the kind that never finishes but annoyingly lingers, sometimes until and through breakfast.
The palate proved the nose’s assumptions. I waited for one hint of a layer, one little subtle note to lift an eyebrow. Nothing.
I want Pinots thin. I want their delicacy to provide a ballroom floor to waltz upon. And I want the dance to last well into the night. Do wallflowers hang with this wine and severely need additional alcohol provided from too much sun, too much extraction, and there yet was very little heat? Am I suspicious? Did this really need to come from Languedoc?
But I was seduced. A strapless backless dress clenching tight hourglass lines and I could almost catch her scent with thoughts of that ballroom waltz. It was confirmed that the label was catchy, projecting the femininity far more than that which was in the bottle. They can’t keep it on the shelves and this particular purveyor claimed it was the best seller in the state. And yet, who am I to judge? Even with a name like Scarlet. Even under $12.
There are still a few bottles left on the shelf.
rdustin
in2wine