Suburban Wino: cabernet sauvignon

Showing posts with label cabernet sauvignon. Show all posts

Wednesday, November 17, 2010

Transformers

I remember vividly the trip to our local toy store, "Toys Unlimited", to buy Optimus Prime. I was five years old with two fingers jammed into my suck hole. Mom- never above bribery when desperate- decided to cut a deal. I was way too old to still be sucking my fingers (far superior to the thumb, by the way), and the gorgeous, unscathed, fearless leader of the noble Autobots was the bargaining chip.

But the transaction couldn't have been that simple. Mom understood the effectiveness of tangibility when it came to malleable youth, so she bought the toy on the front end. Then, seeing that pristine, tantalizing, Transformers-emblazoned package daily (out of my clutches atop a tall dresser), I was charged with not sucking my fingers for TWO WEEKS. Upon completion of this impossible task, the bounty would at last be mine.

That two weeks must've lasted ten years. But the will of an Optimus Prime-desperate child is strong, and I outlasted Mother and her Herculean trials. I shall take to my grave any infidelity during the probationary period.

The point is that some things are worth the wait. Wine is a particularly good example. High-quality Cabernet Sauvignon is an even better example. And Napa's Quixote Winery makes a product that not only fits the bill, but- serendipitously- was recently in my possession. Sucking your fingers in anticipation yet? Me neither!

Situated in the Stags Leap District of Napa Valley, Quixote- quite simply put- is a silly place. From the Dr. Seuss architecture to the screw caps placed on $60 bottle of wine (which is fine), these folks do a pretty good job at turning the ubiquitous Napa tasting room on its ear.

From a production standpoint, Quixote basically bottles four wines: a Cabernet Sauvignon and a Petite Sirah each for the "Panza" and "Quixote" labels. Made of 100% organically-farmed, estate-grown fruit, those wines- unlike the atmosphere from whence they came- are anything but silly.

A buddy and I had purchased a few bottles there a couple years ago, and being the booze-swilling derelicts that we are, it seemed only fitting that we knock back a few on a Friday night. Among those bottles in our eventual boneyard were the 2003 Panza Cabernet Sauvignon and the 2003 Quixote Cabernet Sauvignon. Both wines sourced fruit from the same vineyards. Each featured primarily Cabernet with a little Merlot mixed in. Yet, while the Panza featured a great nose of all those wonderful Cab idiosyncrasies- [insert all the Cab aromas you read about everywhere, and tell me where to buy some damn black currants, please]- in full force, the Quixote (which was $20 more, mind you) had a tighter nose. It also had a lot more "fuzz", or tannic structure, in the mouth. The Panza- conversely- was as smooth as my baby daughter's bottom after an assault with the powder bottle.

In short, the Panza was a tastier, better-drinking wine when compared head-to-head with it's bigger brother.

The takeaway here- one that can often elude the hasty drinker such as myself- is that the Quixote was MEANT to not show as well as the Panza...for now. Upon gleaning some info from current winemaker Matt Reid, I discovered that the 2003 Quixote was made with 95% Cabernet Sauvignon and 5% Merlot. The '03 Panza, however, consists of 76% Cabernet, 14% Merlot, 7% Mourvèdre, and 3% Syrah (since both contain 75%+ Cab, they can legally be labeled "Cabernet Sauvignon" in the States). The great presence of Merlot and those Rhône varieties softened the Panza, offered less tannin structure, and made for a wine that is "something to enjoy while waiting for the Quixote to mature," according to Reid.

But why pay more for something that you can't have now? All I can say is: try some Cab with age on it. A good one...fine Bordeaux, high-end Napa Cab, something from Washington State. Not all wines are meant to age for 10, 15, 20+ years (few are, in fact). But a good Cab from a good vintage can. Seek one out. Beg, borrow, or steal. Because a well-aged Cab is like the Optimus Prime of wines. It's a transformer. It becomes something completely different over time. And that something is definitely worth the wait...every painful second of it.

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

The Untold Birth of Cabernet Sauvignon (okay, it's been told)

"a person or thing (as in fiction or drama) that appears or is introduced suddenly and unexpectedly and provides a contrived solution to an apparently insoluble difficulty."

-definition of deus ex machina from merriam-webster.com

When you think of very unlikely pairings, what pops into mind? No! Not Capri Sun and an eight-ball. You're a sick puppy. I was thinking more along the lines of romantic pairings, and one in particular jumps out at me like a cooler full of Capri Sun at a 70's disco coke party:

It's well-documented in the annals of music history that David Crosby is the father of one of Melissa Etheridge's children. Etheridge, being a card-carrying lesbian, didn't exactly get busy with the mustached troubadour. Crosby- rather- was a sperm donor, and the child was a product of artificial insemination (however, do you think he was listening to "Come to My Window" to get into the mood?).

Anyway, the partnership and method by which this child came into the world was- needless to say- unusual and unexpected. Now, let's say this couple- a couple which I would have to point out is not the most handsome of unions- gave birth to a child who ended up looking exactly like, say-

-a Brooklyn Decker. That, my friends, is deus ex machina (literally, "God out of the machine"). A resolution so ridiculous and unexpected; something absurdly convenient sprouting immaculately from somewhat dire and irresolvable circumstances.

In a way, such is the story of Cabernet Sauvignon. It is, perhaps, the most recognizable and prolific of the red grapes. The undisputed alpha-male of vitis vinifera. The crown jewel of Bordeaux. Yet, as much as the purple-stained scrolls of wine history teem with legendary names like Lafite-Rothschild, Latour, Opus One, and Haut-Brion, the primary foundation of these wines has a relatively short history.

According to studies at UC Davis, enologists discovered that Cabernet Sauvignon is actually the product of a wild and spontaneous cross between native Bordeaux grapes Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc that occurred as recently as the 17th century. A "cross" is when two subspecies of the same species (in this case, both parent grapes are vitis vinifera) genetically merge to create a new subspecies. And sure, in this case the "parents" are talented and perfectly fine on their own, but here's the rub I can't get past: how did a generally medium-bodied red variety and a crisp white variety get together to create the powerful, expressive, and incredibly profound ambassador of the red wine world? I guess there's some science in there. Some protons and electrons banged around and, boom-goes-the-dynamite...Ms. Decker. Maybe I need to ask UC Davis guys. That was a pretty lackluster explanation.

Or, perhaps this happy accident of nature was Divine Providence. Maybe it WAS deus ex machina. Impossible, but yet it happened, resolving the previously-hopeless search for the greatest grape in the world...

And we are thankful for that.

Want to drink some Cab Sauv with hundreds of wine lovers around the world? Join in the fun on Twitter this Thursday, September 2nd, by participating in the worldwide #Cabernet tasting event. Just grab a bottle (drop me a line if you need some recommendations), pour a glass, and start interacting. Or, you may also find a local live event in your area. Click HERE to RSVP and get more information.

Thursday, July 1, 2010

Oh, the Places You'll Go

I'm wondering if the use of a Dr. Seuss reference as a post title for summarizing several days of very adult consumption is sacrilege of sorts. Perhaps, but I took 10 minutes drawing that crappy cigar and glass of wine with my mouse, so we're gonna go with it.

The past week, I've poked around some of the most fascinating, if not still somewhat unknown, wine regions in North America. A pilgrimage was made from Atlanta, through Denver, into Portland, southwest to the Willamette Valley, north towards the Yakima Valley, through Prosser, east over to Walla Walla, then west to the most remote corner of the lower 48- Seattle- to sit on a tarmac for two hours, pores exuding perhaps pure wine at that point. Into Atlanta, straight to work, dreaming of my next trip west.

To be a "wine enthusiast" and say you've been to Napa Valley is akin to a "movie enthusiast" claiming he liked The Godfather. Yet, as my vine-centric adventures amass, I feel very privileged to have visited regions that not only are as impressive, but are perhaps unknown to the general public as wine Meccas.

Willamette Valley:

As you can see to the right, this area is known for its rain...

The Willamette (rhymes with "dammit") Valley's north end lies just west of Portland, and it runs down from the Columbia River to just south of of Eugene, OR. Framed on the west and the east by the Coastal Range and the Cascades, respectively, this area is known for cool, rainy winters and warm, dry summers (though the region rarely sees temperatures above 90˚, relatively cool by grape-growing standards). For this reason, the area is known for Pinot Noir, a cluster notorious for difficult growing. It's sort of like the Lindsey Lohan of grapes: don't supply it with constant attention and monitoring, and you've got a hot mess on your hands. Fortunately, the relatively mild and consistent temperatures of the Valley (particularly the Yamhill-Carlton AVA in the north end) acts as a controlled, low-dose narcotic to Pinot's Lohan, thus keeping the grapes happy and thriving, resulting in some of the finest examples of Pinot Noir wine in the world.

Yakima Valley:

Head up north from Portland, then east over the Cascades, and you see the real effects of a "rain barrier". With Mount Rainier forming the highest point at over 14,000 feet, most moisture that tries to get past the mountains is forced so high into the air, it freezes and precipitates out of the atmosphere atop the mountains. What's left to the east is a virtual desert, as the Yakima Valley receives about 6-9" rain a YEAR, compared to Seattle's 37". Fortunately, dry and hot can be a pretty damn good thing for growing grapes, among other things. Cherries, hops, apples, peaches, etc., etc., etc. all thrive in the Yakima Valley. As for wine grapes, I saw Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Chardonnay, Viognier, Sauvignon Blanc, Malbec...well, there's not much I didn't see. Most of the wines tasted of the heat (though the typical climate is more temperate, allowing cool-natured grapes like Riesling to flourish here as well), with high alcohol, lots of tannin, and big fruit flavors. From my limited experience, I consider Yakima the South Australia of U.S. viticulture, sans marsupials, crocodile boots, and a low-tannin approach famous in quaffin' Aussie wines.

Walla Walla Valley:

Another valley carved out by the massive, prehistoric Missoula flood, W-squared lies southeast of the Yakima Valley, and the AVA actually crosses into Oregon, which has always made for an awkward situation for WW's allegiance when the WNBA's Seattle Storm and now-defunct Portland Fire used to lock horns. Oh, Portland Fire...we hardly knew ye.

Anyway, upon hearing that Walla Walla had both a proud winemaking tradition AND a large state pen, I stocked up on canned fruit cocktail, oranges, ketchup, loaves of bread, and Zip-Loc bags, eager to learn the secrets and subtleties of expressing the Walla Walla terroir in a fine Pruno. Instead, I found much of the same as in Yakima: a focus on reds, especially Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot, many of which were blended in what some call the "Aussie Meritage", or a "CSM". Also found a good bit of Grenache and Mourvèdre, but mostly for the sake of blending with the Syrah to create Rhône-style blends. Also big in fruit, extraction, and alcohol, I did find the Walla Walla reds I tried to be a bit more restrained than the tooth-stainers from Yakima.

So, that's where I've been. I think many knew what Willamette has been bringing to the table, but Washington isn't on the rise for nothing. I'll delve into some of my favorite wines- and favorite people- down the road a bit. For now, find a bottle, crack it open, and pour a little out for the Portland Fire...and Dr. Seuss.

Sunday, May 2, 2010

Joe Versus the Movie Pairings, part 1

source: http://www.timesonline.com.uk

While wine pairings are- to many consumers- a point of substantial anxiety, for others, they're a creative and engaging exercise. Pulling together the food and the drink that so perfectly complement each other is a rush, sparking a "eureka!" moment that begs to be repeated...

But does the challenge of the perfect pairing become addictive? Have folks gone too far? I've seen wines paired with everything, from breakfast to shoes. I used to think that pairing wines with the music you're listen to while imbibing was a cool idea, until I realized finding a wine/music pairing is about as rare as finding a Hall & Oates song on a random iPod. I think I heard a comedian once say that iPods probably come preloaded with at least one Hall & Oates hit. I'm starting to think this wasn't a joke. Anyway, this concept is allegedly so overblown that it's caught the ire of the magnificent Hosemaster, officially relegating it to "stay away" status, for fear of a lampooning.

However, pairing with a smattering of bad 80's movies is something I've yet to see, and something that I feel must be done. Not only because I think it's got entertainment value, but also because a participant on the Facebook opus solicited the challenge. The original plan was to pair one red and one white with each, but I feel there's a unique style that defines each of these films. So, donning my Hypercolor t-shirt and best pair of acid-washed, tight-rolled jeans, I attempt part 1 of 2 (because I got a list of too many movies):

Roadhouse: when things get out of control at the Double Deuce and Dalton's not around, you're only hope to survive is to smash a bottle over someone's head. Go with a sparkling Blanc de Blancs. Made from 100% Chardonnay, "Blanc de Blancs" means "white from whites", meaning a white wine from white grapes. More critical to the situation, though, is that a Champagne or sparkling bottle is substantially thicker than a still wine bottle so it can hold the 6 atmospheres of pressure built up within. This extra-thick glass might hold up, allowing for multiple head smashings. Furthermore, the wine held inside the bottle is very nice. And it's important to always be nice.

RoboCop: Cabernet Sauvignon. This authoritative grape is a cross of Cabernet Franc and Sauvignon Blanc (yes, a red grape and a white grape combined to make a more powerful red grape...makes about as much sense as combining man with machine). Highly respected and often feared by those with soft palates; yet this grape can produce wines that are incredibly powerful, but also display finesse and precision. Unfortunately, some Cabernet Sauvignons can command incredibly high prices, so the odds of them being affordable in futuristic Detroit are highly unlikely.

Sixteen Candles: Boone's Farm Strawberry Hill. What else would you drink when 16?

Joe versus the Volcano: Sierra Foothills AVA Zinfandel. As many parts of Amador and Calveras Counties in California rate as "Zone 5" on the Winkler Scale (a way of measuring heat for the purpose of growing grapes), many of the grapes get very ripe, producing lots of sugar, which is converted into alcohol. Zinfandel, also notorious for ripening unevenly, is often left on the vine until the slowest grapes hit peak ripeness, and the early ones have pretty much turned to raisins. This- in turn- presents more sugar for the yeast to metabolize, producing higher alcohol levels as well. Many Zinfandels from California's hotter growing regions have alcohol levels of over 16% printed on the labels (with state law allowing a varience of 1% at these high percentages...meaning wines with potentially 17%+). But why all this talk about ripeness, fermentation, and high alcohol levels? Because you're gonna want to knock yourself out as quickly as possibly while watching this crap movie.

A Nightmare on Elm Street: German Riesling. Many are bottled with residual sugar present, so- as this has not been converted to alcohol during fermentation- the ABV tends to be lower, often around 8%. You'll be able to keep your wits about you longer and not be lulled to sleep. However, the ripping acidity of the Riesling grape may feel like Freddy's clawed hand across your tongue.

The Little Mermaid: if you're looking for a wine to pair with Disney cartoons... #justsayin

The Breakfast Club: A brain. And an athlete. And a basketcase. A princess. And a criminal. No grape fits this description better than the enigmatic Chardonnay. A brain, capable of beautiful and thought-provoking expression, particularly the wines of Burgundy. An athlete, globetrotting the world as one of the top grapes covering acreage under vine. A basketcase, taking on multiple personalities depending on climate, region, oak regime, malolactic fermentation, battonage, and/or sparkling production. A princess, gaining the admiration of perhaps more white-wine lovers than any other grape. And, a criminal, sometimes committing unspeakable atrocities when bottled in its cheapest and most manipulated forms. Sincerely, The Breakfast Club.

To be continued...

Thursday, March 4, 2010

Bringin' the Funk for Chile

Earthquakes are a bunch of crap.

You messed with Port-Au-Prince. Destroyed Haiti. I suppose that what the Haitians get for selling their souls to the devil. Pat Robertson said it. It must be true...

...[giant fart noise emits from my mouth]

The world is getting through Haiti. The recovery has begun. At least no grapevines were damaged. Then, February 27th rolls around, and Chile- a major wine producing country- gets smacked. Okay, you can mess with the Caribbean, earthquakes. My roots are from Ireland and Northern Germany. I get sunburnt by spray-on tan. Beaches and equatorial sunshine jive with me like hippies and techno music or hippies and Axe body spray or hippies and any sort of cleansing/deodorant products. C'mon, hippies. Once a week. A bar of soap. That's all I ask.

But, you start messin' with wine regions, and we're coming to fisticuffs (an Irishman fighting over booze...I can't imagine why stereotypes exist). So, as I sincerely (again) reflect on the loss of life in an earthquake-ravaged nation, I've decided to pour out some vino for my homies in the 011 + 56 (they don't have three-digit area codes down there...work with me, folks).

Bringing the funk tonight was the the 2007 Montes Alpha Colchagua Cabernet Sauvignon. The Chilean wine game was built in large part by the French, especially the Bordelais, so Bordeaux varieties are the name of the game: Merlot, Carménère (no longer grown in Bordeaux, but formerly a big player there), Sauvignon Blanc, and of course Cabernet Sauvignon.

Now, when I say "bringing the funk" on this wine, I'm not exaggerating at all, or using clever street-talk for comedic purposes. I mean to say that this wine smelled like poop. Big time. Some wine writers with more eloquent pens than I would describe such a smell as "barnyard". Well, I think the word "poop" is funny, so I'm going with it. Oddly, this is not generally regarded as a negative aroma in many red wines. See, when you smell poop (hee hee hee) in a wine, it's often an earthy smell, and such suggests a great expression of terroir, or "sense of place" to the French. That being said, when thrown at your nostrils in huge doses, it can be a little off-putting to the novice.

Luckily, if you stick with a poopy/funky wine, things usually develop. I always try to see it as a sign of complexity and a promise of great things to come. In the instance of the Montes Alpha, poop turned into really intense aromas of charcoal, burnt toast, but, more than anything, really high-quality dark roast coffee beans. The coffee further developed into dark chocolate, smoke, and- finally- some nice, subtle dark fruit scents: black currant (just a tell-tale in Cab Sauv) and plum.

In the mouth, this one brought big tannins, decent acidity, and a solid wallop of alcoholic heat...at 14.5%, that was to be expected. I found it a little big to drink by itself. I would like it with red meat. At this point, though, I would like anything with red meat. I'd drink Yoo-Hoo with the chance of red meat, and I'm pretty sure Yoo-Hoo is the stuff they squeegie out of the gutters on Bourbon Street the morning after Fat Tuesday.

All in all, and interesting Cab. This one is worth checking out, if only for the nose. While I'm yet to be wowed by anything from Chile, I keep hearing good things, and the experimentation is half of the fun. Besides, it never hurts to support some folks when they're down. I'm sure the Chilean winemakers and citizens- as they pick up the pieces- appreciate the help.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Preyed Upon by Infomercials

Remember this snake-oil salesman?

Yes, it's Ron Popeil, founder of Ronco, and crown-prince of spray-on hair, food dehydrators, and the Showtime Rotisserie, a device whose 3 AM infomercials have surely given many a college stoner a food-motivated stir in the britches.

Shamefully, I too fell victim to the sweet siren's song of cooking a whole turkey, baby back ribs, hot dogs and sausages for the whole neighborhood....oh...I'm hyperventilating. How could I survive without this ultimate kitchen gadget?! Set it, forget it, and become the champion of the kitchen: envied by men, and adored by women for my roasting prowess.

This was eight years ago. I saw a deal online...$99 bucks, and I would become an Iron Chef in my own mind.

Needless to say, it was used a couple times, then boxed up; set aside; shunned for years and years. But, like a phoenix from the ashes, we pulled the rotisserie out of mothballs this weekend and thought we'd give it another go. I'd procured a few bottles of freshly opened, then recorked Bordeaux (disclaimer: I got these as part of a tasting hosted by the Union des Grands Crus de Bordeaux...more on that later). While Cab is often a little hefty for roast chicken, I found these 2007 Bordeaux to be quite approachable, and I had chicken at home. What? You think I should've gone out and purchased something more appropriate? Who am I? Charles Montgomery Burns? I'm broke, son! Maybe if you'd click a link once in a while... :)

As it turned out, the chicken was great. I actually split-tested it against another chicken that was pan roasted in butter and its own juices. The rotisserie chicken was more flavorful, juicier, and had crisper skin. Oh, Ron Popeil, you rascal! You've done it again. We were so delighted with the results that I ended up doing a half leg of lamb in it the following night.

I think the secret is to use something small enough to not crowd the cooking area (the chicken was under 5 lbs. and the lamb was 2 lbs.), as well as trust your own instincts (or a meat thermometer), rather than the "catch all" cooking times on the side of the Showtime.

So, my hat is off to you, Ron (oh, and I need some of that hair spray). In my mind, you've been upgraded from "snake oil salesman" to "P.T. Barnum-style rejuvenating tonic peddler", like this guy:

Monday, January 18, 2010

Cabernet Sauvignon: the Bono of Grapes

Experimenting with two loves of mine: wine and music (booze and rock n' roll together at last...who knew?!).

Anyway, I'm hoping my first installment is entertaining. I'm pretty sure it will simultaneously delight and offend both U2 and Cabernet Sauvignon lovers. Believe me when I say that I did it all in the name of love...

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

Classic Pairings 101 - Cabernet & Steaky Akes

Sorry, no "eggy wegs" here. Homey don't play that. Yep, a (ugh, hate the term) "foodie" who doesn't like eggs. And a reference to In Living Color. All used to explain an A Clockwork Orange reference. Things could be going downhill fast.

Psyche (totally bringing that back). Why? Because when talking about food and wine pairings, the coup de gras, the "golden goose"- if you will- has to be steak and Cabernet Sauvignon. And things can never go downhill when food and wine get busy with each other. But why is this the "alpha male" of pairings? Maybe it's a combination of the food and the drink of royalty. Maybe it's the red meat and the red wine. Or maybe- just maybe- it's because they're so damn good together. The strong flavor and richness of beef are perfectly counterbalanced by the backbone and tannin of Cab...aka the "King of Red Grapes" (or the "Bono of Red Grapes"...but alas, that if foreshadowing to another post).

Tonight, it was iron skillet filet mignon, pan roasted yukon gold potatoes, and brussel sprouts w/ pancetta. Nothing earth-shattering or Iron Chef worthy, but I guarantee those starving kids in China my mom always talked about as a kid would eat it. The brussel sprouts- especially if you remember them as a dreadful hurdle of the childhood table- were wicked good. Onions, garlic and sliced sprouts fried in pancetta fat, then steamed with white wine. But let's cut to brass tax: the best part was the meat, simply seasoned with sea salt, cracked pepper, and olive oil, and seared in a hot skillet. Luckily, there's a butcher shop across the street from my house (yes, in Woodstock, GA), so having a good quality cut never hurts. I mean, look at that meat. You want to kiss it, don't you? C'mon. Don't be shy. I won't tell anyone. "Hey, I ain't just a piece of meat!" says the filet. Silly filet. You can't talk.

And while you can have the meat as your own, why not bring a third into the mix? It's not kinky, because it's meant to be. I did. Cabernet Sauvignon and steak go together like Tom and Roseanne Arnold, without the messy divorce. I had a darn good one too (disclosure: given to me as a sample). The 2004 Jacob's Creek St. Hugo Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon was clearly well-made: a balance of fruit, acidity, tannin, and alcohol. Lots of Australian Cabs can tend to be overly fruity and massive with alcohol, but this one came in at a reasonable 14.5%, and while it was fruit-forward (being true to the typical Aussie style of wine), it displayed some really nice notes of subtle green pepper, dark chocolate, graphite, and spice under all that dark fruit. No mouthful of oak, no fake, fruit punch flavors. The tannins, fruit, acid, and alcohol busted a move together well in my mouth. Also true to the Australian style, the tannins didn't dry my mouth out like I ate one of those packets that say "silica gel: do not eat" you find in your new shoes (don't ask). They were pretty smooth, but added enough structure to make it feel like a Cab. Overall, a nice match to filet mignon, which is not known as the most flavorful of steaks. A smooth steak for a smooth wine. And my belly. 'Twas the kind of threesome a mother-in-law wouldn't be shocked to read about on your blog (I think...we'll see). Anyway, the Jacob's Creek folks say to lay this one down for 10 years. I think it's good to go now (6 years after harvest), and I could see you squeezing 5 more years if you want to hang onto it as a "sorry I offended you, mother-in-law" gift down the road.

But enough about me and my pal Jacob. What's your favorite steak (cut, preparation) and Cab pairing? It's nothing original, but between the variations of meats, cooking methods, seasonings, and especially areas where great Cabernet Sauvignon is made, surely it's an interesting question. And if you don't answer, you might be subject to a bit of the "ol' ultraviolence."

I kid.

Monday, December 28, 2009

Napa Eve

"Atlanta - 91 miles"

Anniston, AL - We were hurtling down I-20 in my brother-in-law's 4-wheel-drive sleigh, returning from a Christmas Eve visit to relatives in Birmingham. Had a wonderful time with the wife's family...copious amounts of ham, quality time with my adorable- if not overly vivacious- niece, and a showering of gifts, including a sleek Vinturi instant aerator (more experimenting with that later).

But my gears had already switched from laser-focus on ham and family (let's call it "hamily" for short) to the neighbors' annual Christmas Eve party. I could already taste the reserve wines we always bust open to celebrate the season. Anniston, Alabama might has well have been China. Was the first cork being popped? What was I missing? Where in the world is Carmen Sandiego? (the last question had little to do with the moment described, but I'm still unclear about it.)

Eventually, we got there, met with the expected level of revelry/joviality/hullabaloo/mirth: an already well-lubricated crowd, unusual treats (including big Bill Blank's famous chopped liver paté and steamer clams- lovingly referred to as "piss clams"- to be shelled, dipped in broth to remove the sand, and sloshed in melted butter before devouring). Liar's Dice games were heating up (which- for the record- we were playing long before A Really Goode Job). Dean Martin crooning over the speakers...oh, and the wine.

Seems like Napa Valley was the focus of the evening.

The first one opened, which I missed, was a 2004 Rubicon Estate Gustave Niebaum Captain's Reserve Merlot, 2004. This is a wine from the Niebaum-Coppola (as in Francis Ford Coppola) family of wines...FFC has some ownership in Rubicon Estate, which is known for some pretty heady and expensive wines. However, not only could I not get a taste of it, but I couldn't find any information, pricing, or anything about it online. I'm pretty sure it's expensive, though. If you had some, tell me about it, you wine hogs.

The next bottle to go through the paces was a V. Sattui 2005 Morisoli Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon. I know the '04 got a score of 93 in Wine Spectator, so- despite my distaste for wine scoring- I hoped it'd give an indication that this was pretty good. Oh, and the $50+ price tag added pressure to the wine's success.

Baby Steps - When the label of an American wine designates a vineyard (in this case, "Morisoli"), then 95% of the grapes used to make the wine have to come from that vineyard. When an AVA, or "American Viticultural Area" is listed on the label- in this case, Napa Valley- then 85% of the grapes have to come from vineyards within that AVA. When the varietal (Cabernet Sauvignon) is listed, 75% or more of the wine must be from that grape. Finally, when a year is listed (2005), 95% of the grapes have to come from that growing year. Confused? Wait until you start learning about French wine! Anyway, from the label, we can deduce that 95% of the grapes came from Morisoli Vineyard, within Napa Valley. Of those, at least 75% had to be Cabernet Sauvignon, and 95% had to be grown in 2005. However, I'm guessing 100% came from Morisoli in 2005.

Okay, now I have a headache. Anyway, this Cab from Morisoli demonstrated flavors typical to the "Rutherford Bench" area of Napa Valley: peppery, spicy, and herbaceous, but with complex dark fruit layers underneath. The wine was incredibly concentrated and extracted, which I've noticed is a pretty consistent theme with Sattui's wines. The tannins were still pretty fierce, and I think it could have gone another few years in the bottle, maybe more. That being said, I think it was very good, but probably better with a big piece of lamb or beef than by itself.

By this time, the dice game was getting intense. We needed something a little less complex. We went for the Provenance Vineyards 2004 Rutherford Cabernet Sauvignon. Total fruit bomb, but with a nice balance of tannin, alcohol, and oak. Good wine, and probably worth the $40, but I have a hunch you could find something from Australia with a similar profile for ten bucks less. Regardless, I know Provenance has a very good pedigree for Merlot and Cab, and I think this strong effort was no exception. It was also interesting to compare a 2004 Cab and a 2005 Cab made with grapes from regions very close to each other. Was it vintage or winemaking defining such different styles? One of the many reasons why the grape on the label can sometimes say very little about the wine inside.

All in all, it was a perfect way to end the evening and put a bullet on the joyous occasion...

...yet, another notch in the (expanding) belt of excess. The January purge can't come soon enough.

Okay. Yes it can.

Sunday, November 29, 2009

Perfect Strangers

Disclaimer: the wine I'm writing about in this post was given to me as a sample from the very smart and handsome folks at Two Friends Imports.

Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot are the Dynamic Duo. They're the Gruesome Twosome. They go together like peanut butter and jelly, meat and potatoes, catfishing and MGD, pulled pork and coleslaw, cocaine and Lindsay Lohan, football and chicken wings, and/or Ponch and Jon. Yeah, you know: your favorite CHiPs, keeping the highways safe, the streets clean, and the ladies frisky. And they do it in perfect harmony with one another...Erik Estrada's powerful and undeniable machismo paired with Larry Wilcox' smooth-as-Parkay, California-surfer cool. Power and Smoothness. Sounds like Cab and Merlot to me.

Okay, this is gonna get weird, so bear with me. Let's say you take Ponch and Jon and combine them into one entity. Cab and Merlot so often work together in the wine world, so it's not too much of a stretch. Now let's draw a very odd metaphor, calling this single entity "Larry Appleton" (aka Mark Linn-Baker's character on Perfect Strangers). Sure, Larry was neurotic and not quite the milk-drinking stallion you'd expect from a Ponch/Jon love child, but the metaphor has to work. Why? Because you then take this Cab/Merlot/Larry Appleton creation, and throw a proverbial Balki Bartokomous into the mix: Vranec. Awkward on the surface (and difficult to pronounce), this pairing, in the end, is really a case of "perfect strangers" (see, it all came together neatly...sort of).

Such is the 2006 Bovin Alexandar. A proprietary (basically, meaning I don't know the percentages) blend of Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Vranec from the Tikves wine region of Macedonia. Thanks to the generosity of Two Friends Imports, I've been able to post about Macedonian wines a couple times: here talking about Cab and Chardonnay, and here talking about a varietal Vranec bottling (and Ravishing Rick Rude). Overall (especially for the price points), I've been pretty impressed at all the Bovin offerings, and I'd not hesitate to purchase them for serving to friends or giving as gifts. That's an honest opinion, not a sell out. I'd hope my integrity's worth more than a $13 bottle of wine (okay, barely).

In the snout, I got some serious barnyard at first. Barnyard, aka "horse blanket", aka "poop", is not really a bad thing in wine. To me, it's an expression of terroir, and it's something that can be pretty common in "old world" (meaning "European") wines. Shortly after, that barnyard blew off a bit and opened up very pleasant smells of blueberries (something I get from Merlot a lot), blackberries, cassis (basically, the smell of Cabernet Sauvignon), earth, charcoal, dark cocoa, and spice. I also got this really distinct smell of concord grapes, as if I was smelling a glass of Welch's grape juice. Sure, it doesn't sound very impressive to say a grape-based spirit smells like grapes, but I'm not a very impressive person. It was there, okay? Get off my back.

In the mouth, the wine was very dry, with restrained flavors of black fruits (blackberries, plums, etc.), with some pepper mixed in. It was pretty smooth, but structured with some tannins (courtesy of the Cab and Vranec, no doubt). It was actually pretty austere and reserved in the mouth, and a little hot (alcoholic) and bitter on the back end. Although I drank it alone (as in without food...okay, I was by myself too), the wine's subtleties told me that it would be very good with a meal. Preferably a meal with meats. Tasty red meats. The kind your doctor tells you not to have all the time. He's probably telling you not to have wine all the time, either, so binge all at once, then go eat a carrot or something.

So, once again, Bovin brings some nice value. For a bottle priced in the low-to-mid teens, you could blow the lid off of a California wine with a marketable name. If you're into big, fruity wines (Red Zinfandel, Australian Shiraz, California Cabernet), the Alexandar will certainly be a change of pace. However, the more you get into wine, the more you may appreciate more elegance and terroir in your glass (especially if serving with food).

Distribution's still pretty sparse for Macedonian wine, but if you're in Atlanta, you can find Bovin Alexandar (and other wines) at The Mercantile, Cheers Beer & Wine, and Your Dekalb Farmers Market. You can also ask for it to be ordered at Whole Foods or Harry's Farmers Markets.

If you're well-heeled and get to eat out (I'm pretty much no-heeled at this point), ask for Bovin at Vinocity Wine Bar in Kirkwood or Parker's on Ponce in Decatur- what I'm told is a very good and locally-owned steakhouse (I'd have more info if I'd been there...refer to "no-heeled" comment).

Bottom-line: if you get your hands on some of this wine, you may do the "Dance of Joy" (it's a Balki thing). And I will toast you: Cheers, Sláinte, L'Chaim, Salud, Prost, Skål, Konbe, Kampai, and Laissez les bon temps rouler!

Sunday, September 20, 2009

Taking Flight at Montaluce (at last, Georgia Wines part 4 of 4)

Dedication can be a tricky thing. Last thing I've wanted to do today is sit down and write a post. Football season can really wear one out, but a fan feels compelled to watch every minute of his favorite teams, even if the games run late into the night, sap all his emotional energy, and occupy his every waking minute from Saturday morning to Sunday evening. Call it, uh...dedication to the team. Unfortunately, the blog needs it's attention too, so dedication need be mustered again (somewhere, an English teacher is cursing me for using the same word three times in a paragraph).

Furthermore, I feel compelled to write about the wines being produced on the Dahlonega Plateau. These guys put in a lot of hard work and- do I even need to say it?- into what they're doing, especially at Montaluce. The folks there dropped everything to speak to some inquisitive boob from Woodstock, GA, so the least I can do is write about it. If you want to read my article about Montaluce, click here. For the purposes of this post, I'm sticking strictly to the wine:

2008 Risata: Three cheers for good winemaking. This Sangiovese-based effort was originally intended to be a red wine. When the grapes didn't come in the way the winemaker wanted, he turned it into an intriguing Rosé. Nice move. I was met with a very pleasant nose of roses, orange peel, herbs, that Georgia "grassiness", and rainbow sherbet. Yeah, the red, green, and orange stuff. It was dry and crisp in the mouth, with good acidity. A really nice wine.

2008 Chardonnay: A nice, buttery, earthy nose (maybe "grassy" again?) with some telltale Chardonnay aromas of green apple and citrus. In the mouth, there was once again good acidity (which you'd expect in a cool-climate, but not in the Deep South...nice). This wine also had a nice, long finish. It was not my favorite of the bunch, but that could be a personal problem. Why am I saddling you with my problems? You've got enough on your plate, and I respect that, valued reader.

2008 Viognier: A variety of grape that I'm seeing a ton of in Georgia, for which I am very happy (Viognier is SOOO good when done well). Montaluce's- yet again- had a very interesting nose...extra virgin olive oil (or "EVOO" if you're into terrible Rachael Ray references) was the first thing that jumped out at me. I also got apricots, peaches, and honey in my snout. Nice tangerine and spice in the mouth. Bought a bottle; what else can I say?

2008 Merlot: Another good nose. Herbs, green pepper, and berries dancing around in the glass. As I swished it around in my cheeks, this light-to-medium bodied red had a huge kick of strawberries, which never sucks. Really, what's impressive about the Montaluce wines is the depth of flavor that I haven't really seen in the other Georgia wines I've had. They're more complex, and this Merlot is no exception.

2008 Cabernet Sauvignon: I think by this point, I was jaw-jacking with Rob Beecham, and I didn't write down any notes. Nice one, Joe. Anyway, what I do remember is that it was pretty good: medium-bodied, good fruit, that signature Georgia "grassiness" (which may sound bad, but it's not. It's the "Georgia" in the wine). Sorry, Cab. I meant well, but failed to give you the respect you deserve.

So, there it is. This edition of my Georgia wine oddyssey is closed- for now. There's a lot more going on up in the hills, so I'm sure I'll be back...

...just like I'm sure I'll be sitting on the couch again on a Sunday night, trying to avoid writing a post. But if they keep busting their butts to make the best wine possible, I'll get off mine and write about it.

To dedication, even when it's not the easy thing to do: Cheers, Sláinte, L'Chaim, Salud, Prost, Skål, Konbe, and Kampai!

Monday, July 27, 2009

Bombs over Negotino: Macedonia and the Dirty South, together at last

Refreshing, full disclosure: the wines tasted in this post were samples provided by the fine folks at Two Friends Imports.

Macedonia. Just the whisper; the mere utterance of the word makes any wine lover go "huh?" Yeah, we all think of France, Italy, Spain, and Germany in the grand pantheon of European wines, but rarely this small Republic that was once part of what made up Yugoslavia. Odd we don't know anything about this wine region: while the "big four" have been under vine since the Roman times, the folks in Macedonia were kicking viticulture when the Greeks ruled the world- long before Julius Caesar got worked over like a pack of smokes at an A.A. meeting.

So, with all this history of winemaking, surely they'd be making some good stuff? Well, the locals are certainly giving it a go, especially in the Tikveš‎ region, near the town of Negotino. How 'bout a handy map:

View Larger Map

Here, in the central part of Macedonia, they're dealing with primarily a "Mediterranean" climate (read: hot and dry), which is perfect for grape-growing. Along with popular local varieties like Vranec, they're growing many "classic" varieties, such as Merlot, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Sauvignon. And, thanks to the intrepid efforts of the guys at Two Friends Import Co., we've got these unusual wines in Georgia (thus, the clever Macedonia/Outkast theme of the post. Li'l Jon would've also been acceptable, but I didn't know how to say "YEAH!" in the local tongue).

Anyway, I got to dunk my whiskers into a couple bottles over the weekend, and here's what I thought:

Bovin 2008 Tikveš‎ Region Chardonnay: Bovin has been making wine since 1998, and they're currently producing about 80,000 cases annually. Among those, this 13.7% ABV Chardonnay.

Nose: Lots of fruit: cantaloupe, ripe apple, pineapple, grapefruit, plus a VERY pleasant honey-butter aroma, and just a hint of oakiness and minerality. I'll tell you, I'm not generally a big fan of Chardonnay. Too often, it reeks of oak and vanilla, and this just masks fake-smelling fruit flavors...probably why the cheap stuff is served ice-cold so you can't smell the shame. But this nose is just pretty...everything is balanced and subtle (but definitely there), and- dammit- it just WORKS, at least for me.

Taste: Admittedly, my smellin' notes are usually better than my tastin' notes. We'll give it a go anyway. This wine is silky, with flavors of lime, buttered (slightly burnt) toast, and grapefruit. The finish was nutty (almonds, maybe?), and I counted to 20 before I couldn't taste the wine anymore. I thought it was a little hot (alcoholic) on the finish, but overall, things were in nice balance. I even came back and drank some at room temperature the next day, and things were still balanced and there was no evidence of flaw...it was actually incredible the next day.

Verdict: knowing that this wine retails for under $15, it is an ABSOLUTE STEAL. There's so much underwhelming Chardonnay from California at that price point (or more), and this drinks much more like a $25-35 bottle. That's one of the great things about lesser-known countries: good quality for a great price. If you see this one, pick it up, and snag a bottle for me, you handsome devil.

Bovin 2006 Tikveš‎ Region Cabernet Sauvignon: At 13% ABV, I expected this to be lighter-bodied. However, coming from a region that regularly hits 104° F, I thought I'd get something that kicked me in the teeth. Frankly, I was torn on what I would get. Luckily, that mystery was about to be solved.

In the glass, this was one of the lightest-colored Cabs I've seen in a while. It almost looked like a Pinot Noir.

Nose: Heinz 57, raisins, pickles, black currant, herbs, creamed corn, and a serious kick of raspberry sorbet. Trust me: this nose looks weird, but it's really cool to get all sorts of interesting things out of the aroma. The nose was really bright and rustic. Didn't remind me of Cab so much, but it was still quite pretty. Basically, between the color and the nose, this wine would've kicked my @ss in a blind tasting.

Taste: I wrote down "Cab for Pinot lovers." It was a little dull and flabby (as in "lacking acidity") at first, but I think this is just because I've come to expect big flavors, tons of tannin, and high alcohol from a Cabernet. The flavors were there: mostly berries and dark fruit. But the tannins were so soft; more like a new world Merlot. I feel like I could drink this on a hot day and not sweat my face off (the usual, flattering side-effect of me drinking a heavy red wine). It's officially "summertime Cabernet," and while it really threw me off, once I took it for what it was, I enjoyed it a lot more.

Verdict: Not quite the freight-train that the Chardonnay was, but a nice wine that I would take down with some roasted chicken (or by itself). Also priced in the teens (I believe... someone please correct me if I'm wrong here), I think you could do a lot worse.

My final analysis: if this is the first stuff coming to the states from Macedonia, we've got a lot to be excited about. This quality, at these price points, is exactly how you can still drink good wine in a tough economy. But most importantly, it's great to try new things. You can really surprise yourself sometimes and find some gems. And if you buy a bottle of Macedonian wine (click here for a list of spots in Georgia), someone in that country will probably do a dance...and I bet they've got some pretty sweet dance moves there.

Until next time, Cheers, Sláinte, Salud, Prost, Skål, Konbe, and Kampai!

Tuesday, June 9, 2009

...and we ended the night...

...after our trip in Luqillo with a bottle of this!

You can do way worse than a bottle of 2005 Duckhorn Cab. Really balanced. And sentimental!(first winery the wife and I visited on our honeymoon)

Best part: cost us $0. That's right. I robbed a wine store.

Okay, didn't rob a wine store. Got it as a leftover from an event. Gotta love the event planner wife!

Monday, February 23, 2009

Found my notes...

...and away we go. Sorry for the delay.

2006 Courtney Benham Sonoma/Mendocino County Pinot Noir

Aroma: Fruit. Cherries, Strawberries mostly

Taste: To me, California PN is often heavier than it's European (or New Zealand) counterparts. Big fruit flavors, darker color, etc. This one, however, seemed lighter than most Cali Pinot. Unlike an old world Pinot Noir, the flavors were more fruity than earthy, but the body was lighter (to me, despite containing 14% Merlot), and there was a good bit of acidity to it. Heavier than Oregon's finest, but lighter than California. I liked this wine and look forward to drinking it with a piece of freshly-caught salmon. Or canned salmon. The catfish ate all the fresh salmon in my neighborhood pond. Ooh...a pork chop would be good. Remember that guy who played for Mississippi St. whose name was "Pork Chop Womack"? I hope to someday name a child "Pork Chop". That name commands respect.

2005 Screw Kappa Napa Merlot

Aroma: Off-putting at first, but after a few swirls, I got sniffs of berries, little bit of leather, and herbs, particularly oregano (or that could have been my friends out behind the shed).

Taste: Soft tannins, like many Cali Merlots, with flavors of ripe cherries, berries, and even some charcoal. I thought this was a perfectly serviceable Merlot. I was wary of the gimmicky name at first, but was not disappointed by the true wine beneath. Nothing special, but not a bad buy for $10-12. Also, don't let the screw cap scare you off: this is becoming far more popular these days, as cork can allow air into the wine and oxidize/ruin it. Real cork is also subject to "cork taint", which can ruin a wine as well. So don't fear the screw cap...it never stopped you from drinking that 40 oz. of King Cobra, did it?

2007 Cline "Ancient Vines" California Zinfandel

Funny thing. I didn't take any notes on this wine, but I specifically recall it tasting different than the last time I had it. Why didn't I take notes? Because my notes say "see previous notes," referring to when we tasted this wine in a previous post (A Zinfandel Tasting).

But, I'm a dumbass. I recall this one tasting less chocolate and cherries, and more berries and pepper. I still liked it, but it was more, uh, "punchy", I guess. Probably more acidic.

So, let this be a lesson: even self-proclaimed "wine enthusiasts," who act like they know what they're doing, are not immune to stupifying effects of boozin'.

2005 Dynamite Vineyards Lake County Cabernet Sauvignon

Aroma: Okay. I wrote "Barrel Room". That's a smell a lot of people may not know, unless you are a shameless winery tourist, a rat, or perhaps Sloth from The Goonies.

Anyway, "Barrel Room" is the smell of where the wine is aging in oak barrels. This tells me that this wine smelled like vanilla, oak, toast, and some classic Cab smells, like dark fruit, leather, and cocoa.

Taste: Blueberries, Vanilla, Black Cherry, Herbs. Despite the described aroma, the oak was not completely overpowering the fruit flavors. I thought it was pretty decent for a $17.99 bottle of Cali cab, until I saw it at another store for $9.97....friggin' Fresh Market. Anyway, for $9.97, this is a good deal.

2005 Novelty Hill Columbia Valley Syrah

Okay. If you don't know where the Columbia Valley is, it's not in California. It actually runs from Washington down and runs along the Washington-Oregon border. So, this wine didn't fit with the "rules", but at this point, we didn't care. Furthermore, we weren't spitting throughout the night, so my notes REALLY suck here. I wrote, "classic syrah...can't pick out the scent." Wow. That's knowledge. From my experience, I can gather that this was a powerful wine with peppery aromas and flavors, laced with dark fruit, mint, leather, tar, and some nice structured tannins. I wouldn't think of Washington State as an adequate producer of a warmer-weather grape like Syrah, but it did seem similar to a more northern-Rhone wine, like Cote-Rotie. Not necessary a wine for the beginner, and a far cry from jammy Australian Shiraz, but worth a try if you're looking to get into Syrah (which is a good idea, in my opinion).