- Do you find old tasting notes relevant?
- Does anyone care about Bordeaux any more?
- Is five years (France, February 2004) too long?
- Or should I skip ahead to Italy, February 2006?
Tuesday, December 9, 2008
Digging Through the Crypt
After a long hiatus and in spite of the time demands of the holiday crunch, I'm feeling it's high time to dig back into my travel journals from the past few years and start writing up some more winery profiles. My only hesitation is that some of these visits go back nearly five years. The details don't worry me, as my notes are pretty good and even my memory still functions fairly soundly. However, I'd welcome feedback from any and all passersby on a few questions:
Saturday, December 6, 2008
Riesling on Repeal Day
In stark contrast to last year, when Repeal Day elapsed without a taste of wine passing my lips, I spent yesterday, the 75th Anniversary of the abolition of prohibition, pouring some great German wines. As it happens, I was happy to be serving them alongside the men who grew them, some of the finest producers from their respective regions. While there was nary a lowlight on the evening, certain wines in each grower’s lineup inevitably showed their mettle.
Young Frank Schönleber (pictured above), in his second year holding the winemaking reins at Emrich-Schönleber, is already demonstrating that he has a great grasp of the terroir in his slice of the Nahe. His 2007 Monzinger Halenberg Riesling trocken is just beginning to show its stuff. Beautiful fruit, intense minerality and fine filigree are all balanced by depth and muscle that hint at a fine future to come.
Jochen Ratzenberger and Andreas Laible, both a bit tired after their long and interrupted trans-Atlantic flight, were nonetheless happily sharing their wines in great spirits.
It was a true pleasure to sip the 2007 Bacharacher Riesling Kabinett trocken of Jochen Ratzenberger. However, it was his 2005 Steeger St. Jost Riesling Großes Gewächs that stole the show, demonstrating that the best German wines from top quality sites can possess every bit as much richness and profundity as the top whites of the Côte de Beaune and Chablis, while also showing a level of bundled nerve and fruit expression that similarly priced white Burgundies rarely achieve.
I also really enjoyed meeting Andreas Laible for the first time. Though the focus at his estate is on Riesling, he was kind enough to diversify the evening’s slate by opting to pour examples of his other varietal wines. Though I’d find greater day-to-day flexibility in his lovely Weißer Burgunder Kabinett trocken, it was his 2007 Baden Ortenau Durbacher Plauelrain Traminer Spätlese trocken that begged for attention, its decadent nose of flowers, herbs and citrus oil balanced by fine acidity and rich, prickly texture.
Spending a little bit of time with the three of them yesterday – along with thinking about the wines as I write about them now – made me pine for a return trip to Germany. There’s so much more to explore….
Young Frank Schönleber (pictured above), in his second year holding the winemaking reins at Emrich-Schönleber, is already demonstrating that he has a great grasp of the terroir in his slice of the Nahe. His 2007 Monzinger Halenberg Riesling trocken is just beginning to show its stuff. Beautiful fruit, intense minerality and fine filigree are all balanced by depth and muscle that hint at a fine future to come.
Jochen Ratzenberger and Andreas Laible, both a bit tired after their long and interrupted trans-Atlantic flight, were nonetheless happily sharing their wines in great spirits.It was a true pleasure to sip the 2007 Bacharacher Riesling Kabinett trocken of Jochen Ratzenberger. However, it was his 2005 Steeger St. Jost Riesling Großes Gewächs that stole the show, demonstrating that the best German wines from top quality sites can possess every bit as much richness and profundity as the top whites of the Côte de Beaune and Chablis, while also showing a level of bundled nerve and fruit expression that similarly priced white Burgundies rarely achieve.
I also really enjoyed meeting Andreas Laible for the first time. Though the focus at his estate is on Riesling, he was kind enough to diversify the evening’s slate by opting to pour examples of his other varietal wines. Though I’d find greater day-to-day flexibility in his lovely Weißer Burgunder Kabinett trocken, it was his 2007 Baden Ortenau Durbacher Plauelrain Traminer Spätlese trocken that begged for attention, its decadent nose of flowers, herbs and citrus oil balanced by fine acidity and rich, prickly texture.
Spending a little bit of time with the three of them yesterday – along with thinking about the wines as I write about them now – made me pine for a return trip to Germany. There’s so much more to explore….
Thursday, December 4, 2008
Not Your Average Wine Box
Notice I didn’t say “boxed wine.” This has nothing to do with what’s in the box – though the wines of Bérèche et Fils are excellent – but everything to do with what’s on the box. Bérèche packs their wines, for convenient carrying given the weight of Champagne bottles, in six-pack boxes. On the top of each carton is a map of the environs of Craon-de-Ludes, the estate’s home base on the Montagne de Reims. The map details the distribution of vines owned by the estate, right down to the single pied, or foot, the word the French use to denote a planted vine.
I’ve uploaded a larger image than usual, just in case you’d like to click through for a closer look. If your display or your eyes are not up to the task, here’s the lay of the land: 8,678 Pinot Meunier vines just north of Chambrecy; 5,050 Chardonnay vines, 10,549 Pinot Noir vines and 13,600 Meunier vines to the south of Ormes; 9,236 vines of Chardonnay, 11,839 of Pinot Noir and 8,839 of Meunier to the north and west of Ludes; 1,036 vines of Pinot Noir to the west of Chigny-les-Roses; 11,511 Chardonnay vines, 4,000 vines of Pinot Noir and 12,666 Pinot Meunier vines south of Mareuil-le-Port; 4,353 vines of Pinot Meunier to the northeast of Festigny; and 1,400 Chardonnay plants just southwest of Trepail. Get the picture?
Some of my fellow wine bloggers (Neil and Peter, for instance) have called out for the provision of detailed information (vintage mix, grape blend, disgorgement date, etc.) when it comes to Champagne labeling. They’re requests for information that I heartily second. But who could realistically ask for the type and detail of information provided on the Bérèche box? Does it even serve a purpose? And who counted all those vines, anyway? I don’t know, but I dig it.
Aside from its top flaps, Bérèche's six-pack offers up the usual branding.
I’ve uploaded a larger image than usual, just in case you’d like to click through for a closer look. If your display or your eyes are not up to the task, here’s the lay of the land: 8,678 Pinot Meunier vines just north of Chambrecy; 5,050 Chardonnay vines, 10,549 Pinot Noir vines and 13,600 Meunier vines to the south of Ormes; 9,236 vines of Chardonnay, 11,839 of Pinot Noir and 8,839 of Meunier to the north and west of Ludes; 1,036 vines of Pinot Noir to the west of Chigny-les-Roses; 11,511 Chardonnay vines, 4,000 vines of Pinot Noir and 12,666 Pinot Meunier vines south of Mareuil-le-Port; 4,353 vines of Pinot Meunier to the northeast of Festigny; and 1,400 Chardonnay plants just southwest of Trepail. Get the picture?
Some of my fellow wine bloggers (Neil and Peter, for instance) have called out for the provision of detailed information (vintage mix, grape blend, disgorgement date, etc.) when it comes to Champagne labeling. They’re requests for information that I heartily second. But who could realistically ask for the type and detail of information provided on the Bérèche box? Does it even serve a purpose? And who counted all those vines, anyway? I don’t know, but I dig it.
Aside from its top flaps, Bérèche's six-pack offers up the usual branding.Wednesday, December 3, 2008
The Heat Miser Strikes Again
Last night, I cooked an easy Tuesday dinner and uncorked a bottle of wine, thinking in the back of my mind that I might find something to write about the pleasures of simple food and simple wine, or about pairing red sauced pasta with white wine. Instead, I find myself writing about that pervasive old culprit, heat damage.
This is not a rant against the wine in question, the 2006 Falanghina “Sannio” from the large Campanian producer Feudi di San Gregorio. I’ve enjoyed this wine and others from Feudi di San Gregorio in the past. When it’s in good shape, it’s a lively, well-balanced white, brimming with peach, lime and fresh herbal flavors, backed by medium acidity, medium body and a faint hint of minerality. It’s refreshing, a versatile food wine and, at around $12-13, a pretty solid value. But this bottle was dead in the water. Though not totally undrinkable, it was all but devoid of fruit, its alcohol was much more prevalent than it should be in a wine clocking in at 13%, and that savory herbaceousness was no longer savory. Think instead of herbs that have sat unused for too long, wilting and tasting more of decomposition than of freshness, of death rather than life, and you’ll have a sense of what I found.This is not a rant, either, against the store where I bought the bottle, against its importer, the distributor or the winery. In one way or another, they’re all responsible for the fate of this bottle. So am I, for buying it in full knowledge that it might be flawed. It would be way too idealistic and optimistic on my part to think that every spoke in the wheel of the global wine distribution system will ever take the steps necessary to prevent heat damage from happening. But until they do – and I’ll try to hold out a glimmer of hope, in spite of my natural skepticism – nearly every bottle of wine you and I buy will carry with it the distinct possibility of not being what it was meant to be.
How do I know this bottle was heat damaged? Well, part of it can be chalked up to plain old experience. As I mentioned above, I’ve had good bottles of this wine in the past. I know it’s good in its youth – it’s a wine I’d usually look to buy as young as possible – yet I also know that it has the stuffing to last for a couple of years with no problem.
This case was actually tougher to detect than some others, though, as the effects of its heat damage were subtle rather than profound. The bottle passed all of my usual point-of-purchase inspections. Its capsule spun, there were no signs of seepage or leakage and no sweet or sour aromas emanating from below the capsule. Its fill level was good and there was no schmutz on the bottle. So, obviously, I bought it. When I opened it, though, I found that all my inspections had not been enough.
Corks, in spite of their own inherent problems, can provide great evidence in sussing out questions of poor handling. Just take a look at the picture above. The bottom of the cork was perfectly moist and seemed to have kept a good seal. However, the sides of the cork told a different story. Stains, now dried out, appeared at varying heights, like the graph of a very erratic heartbeat. This is not the signature of wine that’s begun to soak up through the cork over time. Rather, it’s the sign of wine having been forced up between the cork and the neck of the bottle by the increase in pressure caused by heating of the bottle’s contents. In this case, the heat exposure wasn't extreme enough to piston the cork or to cause leakage, but it was definitely enough to bruise and dull the wine. There’s no telling when or where this might have happened. It could have been in the hold of a ship, in the back of a delivery truck, on the shelves of a warm wine shop or in a warm distributor’s warehouse, or even on the driveway at the winery, where the wine could have been left out on a sunny day waiting to be picked up.
The problem with this kind of heat damage lies in its very subtlety. As mentioned above, the wine was not totally undrinkable. It just wasn’t what it could or should have been. And I can guarantee that you, I and everyone who has ever bought more than a couple of wines in their lifetime has had many a wine like it.
For obvious reasons, many importers, distributors and retailers tend to downplay the prevalence of heat damage. Even professional wine writers and avid connoisseurs have been known to deny its effects, sometimes because they may have vested interests in protecting the agents of wine’s global supply chain but also, I think, because they may not want to admit – to themselves or others – that many of the wines they may have drunk, written about or stashed away in their cellars may have been damaged in much the same way as was this poor Falanghina.
So no, this isn’t a rant against the handlers, sellers and other enablers in the wine business. It’s also not a shill based on the fact that I work in a totally temperature controlled wine shop, from point of origin to point of sale. I buy wine for my own enjoyment from many, many outlets, as I’m not willing to limit my sphere of experience to the few sources that do what’s necessary to prevent heat damage from occurring. It’s just a call to awareness, backed up by a little pseudo-scientific detective work, that I hope will help us all to recognize some of the many signs of heat damage.
For those unfortunate enough not to grasp the “Heat Miser” reference or to recognize this posting’s lead-off image, here’s a clip from the original source, just in time for the holidays.
By the way, Mr. Snow Miser’s influence on wine is much less insidious than the Heat Miser’s, although the Ice Man will rear his head from time to time when you do this.
PPS: You can also read about a slightly different experience with heat damage as reported in one of the first experiments conducted at the Rational Denial lab. I'd like to see that lab test recreated, this time using a wine the Director already knows and enjoys.
Monday, December 1, 2008
Food, Wine and Friends at the Thanksgiving Table
In spite of my sentimental ruminations of yesterday, Thanksgiving is more to me than a time for melancholy reflection. It’s also a holiday that holds an important place in my heart for bringing together friends or family to share in the pleasures of good wine, good food and good company. This year’s feast was shared with dear friends and paired with delicious food and a little more than our fair share of good wine.
We wasted no time in getting to the highlights of the day, sitting outdoors on a bright, chilly November afternoon, shucking oysters, sautéeing mussels and warming our hands by the fire. Both wines we kicked-off with worked wonders with the shellfish.
Muscadet Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie “Le L d’Or de Pierre Luneau, Cuvée Médaillée,” Domaine de la Grange (Pierre Luneau-Papin) 1995. $25. 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
How’s that for an overwrought wine name? No matter, this was fantastically fresh. Drinking it gave me the sense of cool rain water leaching through the limestone and schist soils in Le Landreau. Marrowy and broad, intensely mineral, slightly saline and hinting at its age only via its dark aromatic profile, it was naturally stellar with the oysters.
Vouvray “Clos Baudoin,” SARL Vallée de Nouy (Poniatowski/Chidaine) 2004. Around $20 on release. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
I also really dug the 2004 Vouvray “Clos Baudoin” of François Chidaine, produced during the period when he was farming and making the wines at Prince Philippe Poniatowski’s estate. (The “Clos Baudoin” now belongs to Chidaine). Fully sec in style and medium golden in color, its richer flavors were not as automatic a pairing with the oysters, but the match created some finishing flavor combinations that were really magnifying and haunting. And its pear nectar and sunshine-laced fruit worked handsomely with sweet, juicy mussels picked straight from the fire.
Palette, Château Simone 2006. $70. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Neal Rosenthal, New York, NY.
As hard as the first two wines were to follow, the most exciting white of the night was the 2006 Palette from Château Simone. It was my first experience with wine of any color from this tiny AOC located just southeast of Aix-en-Provence. I’d never thought Provençal white wine could be this good – sweetly herbal, dry but generous in its texture and braced by clean, refreshing acidity and apple tinged fruit. Poured alongside a Vietnamese preparation of pan seared scallops and a slaw of napa cabbage and mirin-spiked shiitakes, the wine did far more than stand its own. Its price, though, forces the wine even further into the realm of curiosity than does its obscure AOC.
Alsace Grand Cru Wiebelsberg Riesling “La Dame (Partager Avec Toi),” Domaine Marc Kreydenweiss 2004. $20. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Wilson-Daniels, Saint Helena, CA.
This was the only dim bulb in a lineup of otherwise luminescent whites. The wine was perfectly sound and palatable but more or less bereft of any liveliness or depth, not living up to its Grand Cru status or to my hopes based on a positive write-up of the Domaine in Monty Waldin’s Biodynamic Wines (Classic Wine Library)
. I suppose there’s a reason why it was on closeout for $20….
Meursault “Clos des Mouches,” Domaine Henri Germain 2002. $46. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Not to be confused with Beaune “Clos des Mouches,” the Clos des Mouches in Meursault is a monopole vineyard owned, farmed and planted to Pinot Noir by Domaine Henri Germain. This took the honors for red of the night, at least in my book. Its nose of macerated cherries and white truffles was followed up by silky, lithe red fruit, with flavors of buttery lucques olives, vanilla-laced cherries and sweet English thyme all dancing across the palate. Firm of texture and fresh in acidity but delicate, delicate, delicate, through and through. Really lovely red Burg.
At this point, my note taking and wine geekery took a back seat to the spirit and timing of the meal. The size of our party didn’t merit a whole turkey, besides which I don’t think anyone wanted to spend the afternoon at the oven door. Instead, our hosts prepared duck two ways, with braised duck leg served atop walnut oil-dressed mashed potatoes and seared duck breast set alongside my wife’s dish of curried lentils and sweet potatoes. After thoroughly enjoying Germain’s Meursault Rouge with all of this, we popped and tasted a couple of other reds of potential interest. Thierry and Pascale Matrot’s 2006 Blagny “La Pièce sous le Bois” is already drinking nicely, with dark, crunchy fruit and good structure, but will definitely benefit from further slumber in the cellar. After the two Burgundies, Smith Haut Lafiitte’s 1998 Pessac-Léognan seemed dull in comparison.
When it comes to pairing wines with traditional Thanksgiving desserts – pies of pumpkin, apple, pecan and mince meat – it’s the stickies of Southwest France that often come first to mind. I don’t think the delicious 2004 Jurançon from Camin Larredya made it past the cheese course, though. Our dessert compartments weren’t cooperating that night. A brisk walk and, for me at least, a wee nap were in order before pie could even be considered.
When it comes to traditional Thanksgiving meals, this evening’s menu may have been something of a departure. But it was a welcome one, offering more than plenty for which to give thanks.
We wasted no time in getting to the highlights of the day, sitting outdoors on a bright, chilly November afternoon, shucking oysters, sautéeing mussels and warming our hands by the fire. Both wines we kicked-off with worked wonders with the shellfish.
Muscadet Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie “Le L d’Or de Pierre Luneau, Cuvée Médaillée,” Domaine de la Grange (Pierre Luneau-Papin) 1995. $25. 12% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
How’s that for an overwrought wine name? No matter, this was fantastically fresh. Drinking it gave me the sense of cool rain water leaching through the limestone and schist soils in Le Landreau. Marrowy and broad, intensely mineral, slightly saline and hinting at its age only via its dark aromatic profile, it was naturally stellar with the oysters.
Vouvray “Clos Baudoin,” SARL Vallée de Nouy (Poniatowski/Chidaine) 2004. Around $20 on release. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
I also really dug the 2004 Vouvray “Clos Baudoin” of François Chidaine, produced during the period when he was farming and making the wines at Prince Philippe Poniatowski’s estate. (The “Clos Baudoin” now belongs to Chidaine). Fully sec in style and medium golden in color, its richer flavors were not as automatic a pairing with the oysters, but the match created some finishing flavor combinations that were really magnifying and haunting. And its pear nectar and sunshine-laced fruit worked handsomely with sweet, juicy mussels picked straight from the fire.
Palette, Château Simone 2006. $70. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Neal Rosenthal, New York, NY.
As hard as the first two wines were to follow, the most exciting white of the night was the 2006 Palette from Château Simone. It was my first experience with wine of any color from this tiny AOC located just southeast of Aix-en-Provence. I’d never thought Provençal white wine could be this good – sweetly herbal, dry but generous in its texture and braced by clean, refreshing acidity and apple tinged fruit. Poured alongside a Vietnamese preparation of pan seared scallops and a slaw of napa cabbage and mirin-spiked shiitakes, the wine did far more than stand its own. Its price, though, forces the wine even further into the realm of curiosity than does its obscure AOC.
Alsace Grand Cru Wiebelsberg Riesling “La Dame (Partager Avec Toi),” Domaine Marc Kreydenweiss 2004. $20. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Wilson-Daniels, Saint Helena, CA.This was the only dim bulb in a lineup of otherwise luminescent whites. The wine was perfectly sound and palatable but more or less bereft of any liveliness or depth, not living up to its Grand Cru status or to my hopes based on a positive write-up of the Domaine in Monty Waldin’s Biodynamic Wines (Classic Wine Library)
. I suppose there’s a reason why it was on closeout for $20….
Meursault “Clos des Mouches,” Domaine Henri Germain 2002. $46. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Not to be confused with Beaune “Clos des Mouches,” the Clos des Mouches in Meursault is a monopole vineyard owned, farmed and planted to Pinot Noir by Domaine Henri Germain. This took the honors for red of the night, at least in my book. Its nose of macerated cherries and white truffles was followed up by silky, lithe red fruit, with flavors of buttery lucques olives, vanilla-laced cherries and sweet English thyme all dancing across the palate. Firm of texture and fresh in acidity but delicate, delicate, delicate, through and through. Really lovely red Burg.
At this point, my note taking and wine geekery took a back seat to the spirit and timing of the meal. The size of our party didn’t merit a whole turkey, besides which I don’t think anyone wanted to spend the afternoon at the oven door. Instead, our hosts prepared duck two ways, with braised duck leg served atop walnut oil-dressed mashed potatoes and seared duck breast set alongside my wife’s dish of curried lentils and sweet potatoes. After thoroughly enjoying Germain’s Meursault Rouge with all of this, we popped and tasted a couple of other reds of potential interest. Thierry and Pascale Matrot’s 2006 Blagny “La Pièce sous le Bois” is already drinking nicely, with dark, crunchy fruit and good structure, but will definitely benefit from further slumber in the cellar. After the two Burgundies, Smith Haut Lafiitte’s 1998 Pessac-Léognan seemed dull in comparison.
When it comes to pairing wines with traditional Thanksgiving desserts – pies of pumpkin, apple, pecan and mince meat – it’s the stickies of Southwest France that often come first to mind. I don’t think the delicious 2004 Jurançon from Camin Larredya made it past the cheese course, though. Our dessert compartments weren’t cooperating that night. A brisk walk and, for me at least, a wee nap were in order before pie could even be considered.
When it comes to traditional Thanksgiving meals, this evening’s menu may have been something of a departure. But it was a welcome one, offering more than plenty for which to give thanks.
Sunday, November 30, 2008
Reflections on Thanksgiving
November has been a quieter than normal month here at MFWT. Even if Black Friday is essentially a non-event in small, independent wine shop circles, the cold weather and holiday inspired shopping season has kicked things into a higher gear at work. Combine that with the social demands of the season and I’ve had a hard time of late squeezing the time for blogging into my day-to-day routine.
It’s those “social demands,” though, that can make the Thanksgiving season so meaningful. It can be a time of stress, I know, and a time where losses and absences are more strongly felt. Why, I don’t know, but this year I’ve been thinking a lot about old times.
I’ve been thinking about places that hold a special place in my memories but have sadly been swept away by the times, like DC Space, where I spent many a great night during my teens and twenties.
And I’ve been thinking about old friends, taken away by nature far before their time should have come, like Eva, who was a good friend in high school. She was one of those incredibly and naturally gifted artists that always seem to live and function on a slightly different plane from everyone else around them. She introduced me to the pleasures of a good gin and tonic and taught me to appreciate the depth of soul in the voice of Aretha Franklin. But it’s the haunting beauty of Eva’s own voice that embodies my feelings around the holiday this year.
The Thanksgiving season is a perfect time to appreciate everything that is important to us. Even though it’s obviously been a reflective time for me this year, Thanksgiving is also a holiday I enjoy for the pure joy of sharing good food and wine along with good company. It’s really that coming together with loved ones – to share everything, happy or sad, past and present – that makes it a special time. Some of those happier notes are soon to come. I promise. So thanks for listening.
It’s those “social demands,” though, that can make the Thanksgiving season so meaningful. It can be a time of stress, I know, and a time where losses and absences are more strongly felt. Why, I don’t know, but this year I’ve been thinking a lot about old times.
I’ve been thinking about places that hold a special place in my memories but have sadly been swept away by the times, like DC Space, where I spent many a great night during my teens and twenties.
And I’ve been thinking about old friends, taken away by nature far before their time should have come, like Eva, who was a good friend in high school. She was one of those incredibly and naturally gifted artists that always seem to live and function on a slightly different plane from everyone else around them. She introduced me to the pleasures of a good gin and tonic and taught me to appreciate the depth of soul in the voice of Aretha Franklin. But it’s the haunting beauty of Eva’s own voice that embodies my feelings around the holiday this year.
The Thanksgiving season is a perfect time to appreciate everything that is important to us. Even though it’s obviously been a reflective time for me this year, Thanksgiving is also a holiday I enjoy for the pure joy of sharing good food and wine along with good company. It’s really that coming together with loved ones – to share everything, happy or sad, past and present – that makes it a special time. Some of those happier notes are soon to come. I promise. So thanks for listening.
Wednesday, November 26, 2008
Grower Champagne Dinner at Domaine Hudson
As often as I extol the virtues of sparkling wine’s place at the table, it’s far from often that I have the opportunity to sit down to a five course dinner paired exclusively with Champagne. That’s just what I did last night, though, courtesy of an invite from Tom Hudson, owner of Wilmington, Delaware’s Domaine Hudson (and a semi-frequent commenter on this blog).
The evening's lineup.
In addition to overseeing the day-to-day activities at Wilmington’s only wine bar, Tom coordinates an occasional series of focused tasting and wine dinner events. This latest shindig paired the food of executive chefs Jason Barrowcliff and Mark Doto with selections from the Champagne portfolio of Terry Theise. Unable to attend himself, Mr. Theise, I’m told, personally selected the Champagnes on offer after contemplating the menu the chefs had designed for the affair. In the absence of Terry or one of his usual representatives, Tom invited Linda Collier, proprietor of Collier’s Wines in Centreville, Delaware, to provide color commentary for the evening’s proceedings. The real stars of the show, though, were the Champagnes that not only spoke for themselves but also spoke, more often than not, in harmony with the food on offer.
Green Eggs and Ham – warm poached egg, herb emulsion, spinach, crispy pancetta and warm shallot compote on brioche
with
Champagne Brut “Tradition,” Gaston Chiquet NV (Dizy)
The first duo set a tough standard, one of those pairings where everything harmonized really well. The initially reductive characteristics of the Champagne clicked, right off the bat, with the salty, smoky flavors of the pancetta crisp. As the wine warmed, its Meunier dominated flavors became more apparent, showing touches of nut bread, pear and red flowers, all of which flavors were heightened by the richness of the egg protein and sweetness of the caramelized shallots on the plate.
Prosciutto and Arugula with toasted walnuts, fig, shaved parmiggiano and orange-vanilla vinaigrette
with
Champagne Grand Cru Sec “Cuvée Tendresse,” Jean Milan NV (Oger)
I’m still not a big fan of Milan’s “Tendresse.” I just can’t get my arms around its highly perfumed, slightly confected being. On this night, it was tasting, straight up, like the “liqueur” from a jar of maraschino cherries and that, my friend, wasn’t helping me come to terms with it. All of that said, this was one of those pairings where food helped the wine to make more sense. The Champagne worked with what was essentially a salad course in much the same way as can a Riesling Kabinett from the Mosel or Saar, its combination of delicate sweetness and high acidity playing nice-nice with the notoriously difficult combination of greens and vinegar. The sweetness of Prosciutto certainly didn’t hurt, even if the dish would have been even better minus the insidious influence of a few drops of truffle oil.
Pan Seared Day Boat Scallop with exotic mushroom-goat cheese strudel and herbed truffle-carrot broth
with
Champagne Premier Cru Blanc de Blancs “Fleuron” Brut, Pierre Gimonnet et Fils 2002 (Cuis)
Truffle oil again… but this time it worked, courtesy of the vinosity and well developed mineral flavors of Gimonnet’s vintage “Fleuron.” At once rich and delicate, the wine showed elements of sandalwood and white chocolate, marrying naturally with the sweetness of the scallops, carrots and mushrooms. As with the Chiquet, “Fleuron” really developed with air, its grippy texture and phenolic concentration becoming more apparent via its upward shift in temperature. Lilacs and baking spices emerged on the nose and the wine displayed excellent length. This time, the Champagne may just have stolen the show, even though this was my favorite dish of the night.
Roasted Barrel Cut Rib Eye with sage-pepper coulis and parmiggiano polenta
with
Champagne Premier Cru “Sélection” Brut, Marc Hébrart NV (Mareuil-sur-Ay)
Tom admitted to being skeptical as to whether Champagne could hold up to a beef course, a doubt I’m sure he wasn’t alone in holding. I wasn’t among the doubters, though, as I’ve had many a black fruit driven Champagne with more than enough structure to stand up to red meat. As it turned out, Hébrart’s “Sélection” was indeed up to the task. Even if nothing was added via its combination with the steak, it held its own, tasting pretty darn decadent along the way. It was actually the streak of tomato coulis painted down the middle of the plate that threw the wine for a loop, with a zesty tang that was too assertive for the wine to match.
Warm Berry Crisp with vanilla ice cream
with
Champagne Premier Cru “Le Demi-Sec,” A. Margaine NV (Villers-Marmery)
Well, four out of five ain’t bad. I don’t think even a fully doux Champagne could have withstood the berry crisp’s triumvirate of acidic fruit, high sweetness and tongue numbing, mouth coating frozen dairy product. Margaine’s demi-sec was blasted out of the water. The dessert was actually quite tasty, just not the pairing. Even after finishing the crisp it was tough to discern any detail in the wine. Theise had apparently warned Tom that this might be the case.... I’m generally a proponent of wine following food but here’s a case where it might have been best to tailor a dessert specifically for the wine. Milk chocolate beignets, perhaps? Or a lightly sweet apple tart?
No harm done, though. Just as we can sometimes learn more about someone based on what they don’t like versus what they do enjoy, the occasional awkward pairing is an integral element in learning the ins and outs of the greater food and wine experience.
Gimonnet's 2002 "Fleuron" was the wine of the night.
Domaine Hudson
1314 N. Washington Street
Wilmington, DE 19801
(302) 655-WINE
In addition to overseeing the day-to-day activities at Wilmington’s only wine bar, Tom coordinates an occasional series of focused tasting and wine dinner events. This latest shindig paired the food of executive chefs Jason Barrowcliff and Mark Doto with selections from the Champagne portfolio of Terry Theise. Unable to attend himself, Mr. Theise, I’m told, personally selected the Champagnes on offer after contemplating the menu the chefs had designed for the affair. In the absence of Terry or one of his usual representatives, Tom invited Linda Collier, proprietor of Collier’s Wines in Centreville, Delaware, to provide color commentary for the evening’s proceedings. The real stars of the show, though, were the Champagnes that not only spoke for themselves but also spoke, more often than not, in harmony with the food on offer.
Green Eggs and Ham – warm poached egg, herb emulsion, spinach, crispy pancetta and warm shallot compote on brioche with
Champagne Brut “Tradition,” Gaston Chiquet NV (Dizy)
The first duo set a tough standard, one of those pairings where everything harmonized really well. The initially reductive characteristics of the Champagne clicked, right off the bat, with the salty, smoky flavors of the pancetta crisp. As the wine warmed, its Meunier dominated flavors became more apparent, showing touches of nut bread, pear and red flowers, all of which flavors were heightened by the richness of the egg protein and sweetness of the caramelized shallots on the plate.
Prosciutto and Arugula with toasted walnuts, fig, shaved parmiggiano and orange-vanilla vinaigrette with
Champagne Grand Cru Sec “Cuvée Tendresse,” Jean Milan NV (Oger)
I’m still not a big fan of Milan’s “Tendresse.” I just can’t get my arms around its highly perfumed, slightly confected being. On this night, it was tasting, straight up, like the “liqueur” from a jar of maraschino cherries and that, my friend, wasn’t helping me come to terms with it. All of that said, this was one of those pairings where food helped the wine to make more sense. The Champagne worked with what was essentially a salad course in much the same way as can a Riesling Kabinett from the Mosel or Saar, its combination of delicate sweetness and high acidity playing nice-nice with the notoriously difficult combination of greens and vinegar. The sweetness of Prosciutto certainly didn’t hurt, even if the dish would have been even better minus the insidious influence of a few drops of truffle oil.
Pan Seared Day Boat Scallop with exotic mushroom-goat cheese strudel and herbed truffle-carrot broth with
Champagne Premier Cru Blanc de Blancs “Fleuron” Brut, Pierre Gimonnet et Fils 2002 (Cuis)
Truffle oil again… but this time it worked, courtesy of the vinosity and well developed mineral flavors of Gimonnet’s vintage “Fleuron.” At once rich and delicate, the wine showed elements of sandalwood and white chocolate, marrying naturally with the sweetness of the scallops, carrots and mushrooms. As with the Chiquet, “Fleuron” really developed with air, its grippy texture and phenolic concentration becoming more apparent via its upward shift in temperature. Lilacs and baking spices emerged on the nose and the wine displayed excellent length. This time, the Champagne may just have stolen the show, even though this was my favorite dish of the night.
Roasted Barrel Cut Rib Eye with sage-pepper coulis and parmiggiano polenta with
Champagne Premier Cru “Sélection” Brut, Marc Hébrart NV (Mareuil-sur-Ay)
Tom admitted to being skeptical as to whether Champagne could hold up to a beef course, a doubt I’m sure he wasn’t alone in holding. I wasn’t among the doubters, though, as I’ve had many a black fruit driven Champagne with more than enough structure to stand up to red meat. As it turned out, Hébrart’s “Sélection” was indeed up to the task. Even if nothing was added via its combination with the steak, it held its own, tasting pretty darn decadent along the way. It was actually the streak of tomato coulis painted down the middle of the plate that threw the wine for a loop, with a zesty tang that was too assertive for the wine to match.
Warm Berry Crisp with vanilla ice cream with
Champagne Premier Cru “Le Demi-Sec,” A. Margaine NV (Villers-Marmery)
Well, four out of five ain’t bad. I don’t think even a fully doux Champagne could have withstood the berry crisp’s triumvirate of acidic fruit, high sweetness and tongue numbing, mouth coating frozen dairy product. Margaine’s demi-sec was blasted out of the water. The dessert was actually quite tasty, just not the pairing. Even after finishing the crisp it was tough to discern any detail in the wine. Theise had apparently warned Tom that this might be the case.... I’m generally a proponent of wine following food but here’s a case where it might have been best to tailor a dessert specifically for the wine. Milk chocolate beignets, perhaps? Or a lightly sweet apple tart?
No harm done, though. Just as we can sometimes learn more about someone based on what they don’t like versus what they do enjoy, the occasional awkward pairing is an integral element in learning the ins and outs of the greater food and wine experience.
Domaine Hudson
1314 N. Washington Street
Wilmington, DE 19801
(302) 655-WINE
Tuesday, November 25, 2008
Bark and Bite in the Touraine, or Clos Roche Blanche is The Schist
I was reading around my usual circuits of the blogosphere yesterday in search of a little inspiration and found it in the form of a rave from Mike Drapkin at The Schist. [Link now defunct, as is The Schist, I'm sorry to report.] The quest for what to open with dinner – grilled New York strip, a birthday treat from my wife – was complete. And while I could have opted for a special bottle of Barolo, Brunello or that old chophouse classic California Cab, what I opted for instead was Cabernet of a different ilk.
Touraine Cabernet, Clos Roche Blanche 2006. $16. 12.5% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
The label image above is borrowed from the 2005 vintage and Mike wrote-up the 2007. I went with the 2006, which just happened to be hanging out at home, waiting its turn in line. This is cool climate Cabernet Sauvignon, full of bark and bite. It’s a little darker and more brooding than the typically lean, light Cabernets of the Anjou yet is much brighter and snappier than the Cabernets we all know from warmer climes. More like a scrappy terrier or whip smart border collie than the muscular, sometimes plodding rottweilers and mastiffs of Bordeaux and Napa. Its nose is typical of Clos Roche Blanche in general, outdoorsy, animal and very forthcoming, pretty much brimming with fresh crushed blackberries and currants spiked with a sprig of bay laurel. The wine’s jagged texture requires food, its cool tannins standing out in stark relief to its bright, medium-bodied fruit. A match made in heaven for a rich cut of steak done black and blue, no. It worked well enough, though, that a second pour effortlessly found its way into my glass. And it’s a wine so loaded with life and character that I’d be happy to drink it on a regular basis, which seems to be a recurring theme with me when it comes to CRB.
Touraine Cabernet, Clos Roche Blanche 2006. $16. 12.5% alcohol. Nomacorc. Importer: Louis/Dressner, New York, NY.
The label image above is borrowed from the 2005 vintage and Mike wrote-up the 2007. I went with the 2006, which just happened to be hanging out at home, waiting its turn in line. This is cool climate Cabernet Sauvignon, full of bark and bite. It’s a little darker and more brooding than the typically lean, light Cabernets of the Anjou yet is much brighter and snappier than the Cabernets we all know from warmer climes. More like a scrappy terrier or whip smart border collie than the muscular, sometimes plodding rottweilers and mastiffs of Bordeaux and Napa. Its nose is typical of Clos Roche Blanche in general, outdoorsy, animal and very forthcoming, pretty much brimming with fresh crushed blackberries and currants spiked with a sprig of bay laurel. The wine’s jagged texture requires food, its cool tannins standing out in stark relief to its bright, medium-bodied fruit. A match made in heaven for a rich cut of steak done black and blue, no. It worked well enough, though, that a second pour effortlessly found its way into my glass. And it’s a wine so loaded with life and character that I’d be happy to drink it on a regular basis, which seems to be a recurring theme with me when it comes to CRB.
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Due Nebbioli I Didn't Like
Regular readers will have deduced by now that I feel a particular affinity toward the wines of Piedmont, in particular to the many regional iterations of Nebbiolo. I like Nebbiolo, too, when grown in the precarious, high altitude area of Valtellina, nestled near the Swiss Alps in northern Lombardy. Yet sometimes I do drink wines from both regions that I don’t like. I just don’t write about them as often as the wines I do enjoy. Sometimes, though, you can learn just as much if not more about someone’s tastes by what they don’t like as compared to what they do.
Sometimes, there’s the wine I’ll buy in hopes of liking it….
Rosso di Valtellina, Sandro Fay 2005. $13.50. 12% alcohol. Synthetic. Importer: Omniwines, Linden Hill, NY.
Nebbiolo is an incredibly finicky vine. It requires perfectly selected vineyard sites if it’s to ripen adequately and provide wine of any real character. Piedmont and Lombardy seem to be the only two regions on the globe where that happens with any consistency. It’s also temperamental, both in the vineyard and the cellar; a vine and wine that requires much care and attention from the farmer and winemaker. In all of these respects, it shares much in common with Pinot Noir, particularly as cultivated in Burgundy. And much like red Burgundy, especially in today’s marketplace, the idea of a varietal Nebbiolo selling for under $15 seems too good to be true. Yet my hope that such a wine might surprise just had to be explored.
I don’t think my expectations were too high. This is meant to be a simple wine, a relatively everyday expression of Nebbiolo (actually, it’s about 90% Nebbiolo blended with other local vines and a smidgen of Merlot). And I found it simple – simple to a fault that is. There was nothing technically flawed about it. It’s just that it left me completely flat, flat being a word that pretty well sums up its qualities in the glass – muted fruit and aromas with little in the way of liveliness. It’s quaffable enough; heck, it even held up pretty well over the course of three days. I won’t rule out trying it again. In fact, I probably will, in hopes that my first impressions might be proven wrong. It’s just that this bottle didn’t move me. And I want to be moved, at least a little, by any wine I drink, no matter the price point.
Then sometimes, there’s the wine I’ll buy in spite of expecting not to like it….
Call it a reality check, if you will. Or call it the antithesis of open minded or blind tasting. I suppose it’s both.
Langhe Nebbiolo “Vigneto Starderi,” La Spinetta 2004. $27.50. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Marc de Grazia Selection, Vin DiVino, Chicago, IL.
I think it’s fair to place La Spinetta at the extreme modernist end of the spectrum when it comes to Piemontese producers. The estate is represented in the US by Marc de Grazia, an importer who heavily influences the stylistic approaches used by the winemakers in his portfolio. While I don’t discount the possibility of perfectly lovely wines being made in the modern style (Elio and Gianluca Grasso’s Barolo “Runcot” comes immediately to mind), I do tend to prefer Nebbiolo – and wines in general – when the vineyard has more to say than does the winemaking.
Tasting La Spinetta’s Langhe Nebbiolo, I’m left with the distinct impression that I’m drinking made wine. Its richly hued garnet color is darker than I’d expect from Nebbiolo, especially from a young vine wine like this, even if from a good vintage. And while some of the classic Nebbiolo aromas – licorice, tar and raspberries – were present, there was also an aggressive element to the wine’s scents. Alcohol and paint both came to mind. In the mouth, the wine wasn’t just disjointed. It also felt over inflated, as if someone had started out with what might have been Grace Kelly but ended up producing something more like Pamela Anderson. Too much oak and too much extraction, with little in the way of finesse to balance out those top-heavy attributes.
Sometimes, there’s the wine I’ll buy in hopes of liking it….
Rosso di Valtellina, Sandro Fay 2005. $13.50. 12% alcohol. Synthetic. Importer: Omniwines, Linden Hill, NY.
Nebbiolo is an incredibly finicky vine. It requires perfectly selected vineyard sites if it’s to ripen adequately and provide wine of any real character. Piedmont and Lombardy seem to be the only two regions on the globe where that happens with any consistency. It’s also temperamental, both in the vineyard and the cellar; a vine and wine that requires much care and attention from the farmer and winemaker. In all of these respects, it shares much in common with Pinot Noir, particularly as cultivated in Burgundy. And much like red Burgundy, especially in today’s marketplace, the idea of a varietal Nebbiolo selling for under $15 seems too good to be true. Yet my hope that such a wine might surprise just had to be explored.
I don’t think my expectations were too high. This is meant to be a simple wine, a relatively everyday expression of Nebbiolo (actually, it’s about 90% Nebbiolo blended with other local vines and a smidgen of Merlot). And I found it simple – simple to a fault that is. There was nothing technically flawed about it. It’s just that it left me completely flat, flat being a word that pretty well sums up its qualities in the glass – muted fruit and aromas with little in the way of liveliness. It’s quaffable enough; heck, it even held up pretty well over the course of three days. I won’t rule out trying it again. In fact, I probably will, in hopes that my first impressions might be proven wrong. It’s just that this bottle didn’t move me. And I want to be moved, at least a little, by any wine I drink, no matter the price point.
Then sometimes, there’s the wine I’ll buy in spite of expecting not to like it….
Call it a reality check, if you will. Or call it the antithesis of open minded or blind tasting. I suppose it’s both.
Langhe Nebbiolo “Vigneto Starderi,” La Spinetta 2004. $27.50. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Marc de Grazia Selection, Vin DiVino, Chicago, IL.
I think it’s fair to place La Spinetta at the extreme modernist end of the spectrum when it comes to Piemontese producers. The estate is represented in the US by Marc de Grazia, an importer who heavily influences the stylistic approaches used by the winemakers in his portfolio. While I don’t discount the possibility of perfectly lovely wines being made in the modern style (Elio and Gianluca Grasso’s Barolo “Runcot” comes immediately to mind), I do tend to prefer Nebbiolo – and wines in general – when the vineyard has more to say than does the winemaking.
Tasting La Spinetta’s Langhe Nebbiolo, I’m left with the distinct impression that I’m drinking made wine. Its richly hued garnet color is darker than I’d expect from Nebbiolo, especially from a young vine wine like this, even if from a good vintage. And while some of the classic Nebbiolo aromas – licorice, tar and raspberries – were present, there was also an aggressive element to the wine’s scents. Alcohol and paint both came to mind. In the mouth, the wine wasn’t just disjointed. It also felt over inflated, as if someone had started out with what might have been Grace Kelly but ended up producing something more like Pamela Anderson. Too much oak and too much extraction, with little in the way of finesse to balance out those top-heavy attributes.
Friday, November 21, 2008
Wines at the Autumn Table
After spending 40 hours a week in a wine shop making food and wine pairing recommendations for customers, sometimes picking wines for my own purposes becomes a less precise, more gut, heart and whim based process. Such was the case when picking bottles from the cellar to carry along to a recent meal at Talula’s Table.
Sydre Brut Tendre, Eric Bordelet 2001
$12. 4% alcohol. Cork. (ex)Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
I could say that I chose this as a perfectly seasonal aperitif. In actuality, it went something more like this: “Holy crap! I can’t believe this one got away from me.” That meant time to drink up, so no better occasion than prior to an autumnal feast. I’d had Bordelet’s Poire “Granit” with some time under its belt before, but I really didn’t know what to expect from his regular Sydre bottling with nearly seven years under cork. Once opened, any question marks quickly dissipated. It was still amazingly alive, smelling of pithy red apple skins and displaying kombucha-like characteristics, both in its funky, slightly acetic nose and in its appearance, slightly cloudy and full of little swimmers. The nose became purer with airtime. Any hint of residual sweetness that was present on release had completely integrated into an incredibly dry cider, full of apple skin tannins that made for fuzzily astringent texture. Even though it cried out for a hunk of Pont l’Évêque, we happily settled for sipping it solo.
Champagne Premier Cru Rosé Brut, Aubry NV
$45. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Terry Theise Selection, Michael Skurnik Imports, Syosset, NY.
On the orange side of salmon to the eye, Aubry’s rosé gave a toasty, nutty nose of rose petals, dried herbs and early season strawberries. Disgorged in February 2007, this had already lost much of its fruit. Even though it was still enjoyable – in fact, it paired extremely well with saffron sauced oysters – I think I’d have preferred this nearer to its disgorgement date when its red-fruited flavors should have been more vibrant. On a related tack, Peter Liem had some interesting things to say about rosé Champagne just a few days back. Be sure to read through the comments, where he builds upon the quick point made about aged rosé in the body of his post.
Napa Valley Gewurztraminer, Stony Hill Vineyard 2006
$21. 12% alcohol. Cork.
I suggested a visit at Stony Hill Vineyard to my friends Scott and Marisa during their recent trip to Napa. They took me up on the suggestion and brought me back a bottle of SHV’s Gewurztraminer as a generous gesture of thanks. Stony Hill is a champion of the old school in Napa. From their tiny planting of Gewurztraminer vines they produce a fully dry wine, replete with smoke, spice and mineral extract carried on a lean (for Traminer), food-friendly (for Traminer) frame. Orange oil, muskmelon and peach preserves unfolded across the palate, with an ever so slightly unctuous feel on the finish, lifted by fresh acidity.
Südtiroler Lagrein Gries “Berger Gei,” Ignaz Niedrist 2005
$35. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Niedrist is something of a cult producer, farming a small estate in the hills of the Südtirol. Tiny quantities of his wines come into the country each year. While I often get to taste them immediately upon arrival, it’s rare that I get to drink them with any kind of time under their belts. I remember this being a bruiser upon release. In just a bit over a year, it’s really come into stride, so much so that my notes from the evening actually read, “Holy shit! That’s delicious.” Mulberry, damson plums and blackberry jam – all pretty typical characteristics of Lagrein – jumped out of the glass, backed up by really energetic mouthfeel and a lively acid profile. Bracingly clean and bursting with aromas of sweet red earth and crushed hothouse flowers. Absolutely tailor made for our final savory course of cocoa rubbed venison and cocoa roasted beets.
Saumur Blanc, Château du Hureau (Philippe and Georges Vatan) 2005
$12. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Fruit of the Vines, New York, NY.
Tremendous value and character in a $12 Loire Chenin Blanc. Slightly off-dry in style; also slightly hot but not so much as to mar its drinkability. It delivered vibrant fruit, with generously floral and grapey aromas. Typical quince and pear nectar on the palate. I really dig off-dry Chenin with the cheese course. This had an acid-to-fruit profile that made it work with just about everything in this night’s assortment. Though it wasn’t quite rich enough to balance the spice and strength of the blue cheese fondue, the cheese did bring out the funky, mineral side of the wine, providing hints of what the wine’s likely to taste like a few years down the road.
Sydre Brut Tendre, Eric Bordelet 2001
$12. 4% alcohol. Cork. (ex)Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
I could say that I chose this as a perfectly seasonal aperitif. In actuality, it went something more like this: “Holy crap! I can’t believe this one got away from me.” That meant time to drink up, so no better occasion than prior to an autumnal feast. I’d had Bordelet’s Poire “Granit” with some time under its belt before, but I really didn’t know what to expect from his regular Sydre bottling with nearly seven years under cork. Once opened, any question marks quickly dissipated. It was still amazingly alive, smelling of pithy red apple skins and displaying kombucha-like characteristics, both in its funky, slightly acetic nose and in its appearance, slightly cloudy and full of little swimmers. The nose became purer with airtime. Any hint of residual sweetness that was present on release had completely integrated into an incredibly dry cider, full of apple skin tannins that made for fuzzily astringent texture. Even though it cried out for a hunk of Pont l’Évêque, we happily settled for sipping it solo.
Champagne Premier Cru Rosé Brut, Aubry NV
$45. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Terry Theise Selection, Michael Skurnik Imports, Syosset, NY.
On the orange side of salmon to the eye, Aubry’s rosé gave a toasty, nutty nose of rose petals, dried herbs and early season strawberries. Disgorged in February 2007, this had already lost much of its fruit. Even though it was still enjoyable – in fact, it paired extremely well with saffron sauced oysters – I think I’d have preferred this nearer to its disgorgement date when its red-fruited flavors should have been more vibrant. On a related tack, Peter Liem had some interesting things to say about rosé Champagne just a few days back. Be sure to read through the comments, where he builds upon the quick point made about aged rosé in the body of his post.
Napa Valley Gewurztraminer, Stony Hill Vineyard 2006
$21. 12% alcohol. Cork.
I suggested a visit at Stony Hill Vineyard to my friends Scott and Marisa during their recent trip to Napa. They took me up on the suggestion and brought me back a bottle of SHV’s Gewurztraminer as a generous gesture of thanks. Stony Hill is a champion of the old school in Napa. From their tiny planting of Gewurztraminer vines they produce a fully dry wine, replete with smoke, spice and mineral extract carried on a lean (for Traminer), food-friendly (for Traminer) frame. Orange oil, muskmelon and peach preserves unfolded across the palate, with an ever so slightly unctuous feel on the finish, lifted by fresh acidity.
Südtiroler Lagrein Gries “Berger Gei,” Ignaz Niedrist 2005
$35. 13.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.
Niedrist is something of a cult producer, farming a small estate in the hills of the Südtirol. Tiny quantities of his wines come into the country each year. While I often get to taste them immediately upon arrival, it’s rare that I get to drink them with any kind of time under their belts. I remember this being a bruiser upon release. In just a bit over a year, it’s really come into stride, so much so that my notes from the evening actually read, “Holy shit! That’s delicious.” Mulberry, damson plums and blackberry jam – all pretty typical characteristics of Lagrein – jumped out of the glass, backed up by really energetic mouthfeel and a lively acid profile. Bracingly clean and bursting with aromas of sweet red earth and crushed hothouse flowers. Absolutely tailor made for our final savory course of cocoa rubbed venison and cocoa roasted beets.
Saumur Blanc, Château du Hureau (Philippe and Georges Vatan) 2005
$12. 14% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Fruit of the Vines, New York, NY.
Tremendous value and character in a $12 Loire Chenin Blanc. Slightly off-dry in style; also slightly hot but not so much as to mar its drinkability. It delivered vibrant fruit, with generously floral and grapey aromas. Typical quince and pear nectar on the palate. I really dig off-dry Chenin with the cheese course. This had an acid-to-fruit profile that made it work with just about everything in this night’s assortment. Though it wasn’t quite rich enough to balance the spice and strength of the blue cheese fondue, the cheese did bring out the funky, mineral side of the wine, providing hints of what the wine’s likely to taste like a few years down the road.
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