Another Gravel-Grown Chinon

Cabernet Franc: when it's ripe enough to overcome its weedy tendencies and left well enough alone to be able to express its true self, there are few other vines that speak to me so clearly. It's a vine, like Pinot Noir or Riesling, that when grown in the right place seems to possess an immutable capability to express not just the flavor of the grape but a clear sense of its origins.

Take Chinon as a perfect example of one such Franc-centric place of origin. The wines of Chinon – again, when they're made well enough to retain their transparency – speak differently of their overall place depending on whether they hail from the banks of the Vienne, the flat lands east of the city or the hillsides that climb up from those plains. Perhaps the clearest and easiest to understand of those expressions is the voice of the Vienne, where the sand and gravel dominated soils yield Chinons of cool, supple texture, driven more by fresh acids and delicacy than by the greater richness and sinew of their cousins to the near north. There's a certain fine-grained, dusty character to the wines' tannins and a hallmark cassis-driven fruit signature that just says gravel-grown to me when I taste it. I wrote about a few such examples earlier this year; here's another.

Chinon "Les Gravières d'Amador Abbé de Turpenay," Couly-Dutheil 2006
$17. 12.5% alcohol. Composite cork. Importer: Elite Wines Imports, Lorton, VA.
The first words written in my raw tasting notes over the course of two days spent with the above wine? "I'm betting this is riverside Chinon." Light, fresh, supple and minty, it's driven by red cassis fruit and leafy aromas, with medium-high acidity and a lightly tannic touch. A dash of cocoa and raspberry parfait emerged as the wine opened. Somewhat loose around the edges. That loose-edged sensation was more apparent on day two when the wine lost much of its structure, though it did retain its coolly textured impact in spite of the softer mouthfeel. A bit less characterful than similarly priced wines from the top producers, but nonetheless a solid if simple Chinon.

I'll admit to not knowing much about Couly-Dutheil going into this bottle. So after drinking and mostly enjoying it, a quick bit of research was in order. Couly-Dutheil is a large producer by most standards, and very large indeed by Chinon standards, farming 90 hectares of vines and overseeing an additional 30 hectares, with annual production figures in the 100,000 case ballpark. "Les Gravières" falls into a group of cuvées that Couly-Dutheil classifies as Chinons de plaisir. Sure enough, it's produced from 25-35 year-old vines planted on the gravel and sandy terraces of the Vienne, just to the east of the town of Chinon. I was – again, I'll admit it – rather pleased to find my gut reaction to the wine was correct. And it's additionally edifying to find a larger producer that, regardless of what their reputation may be, can still get it right.

* * *

Some of you may recognize today's photo, by the way, as something of an Edwardian reference. There's no real connection between Nick Cave's latest novel and the Chinon, other than that it's what I've been reading of late. Entertaining enough, I suppose, but not one of the author's better efforts, musical or literary. I'll let you know if the verdict changes once I've tested its finish.

Intro only...

Tuesdays at Rosamunde (and Toronado)

Six days and seven nights a week, Rosamunde Sausage Grill makes it their business to grill up what I'm told are some of the best sausages available on the streets of San Francisco. I wouldn't know, though, as I've only been for lunch on a Tuesday, when the usual offerings of forced ground pork and game make way on the open-top grill at Rosamunde for hand-formed patties of ground beef.

Tuesday at Rosamunde's is "secret burger day," a weekly ritual that begins with a delivery of of fresh, Niman Ranch beef and ends as soon as the last of the day's 200 half-pound hamburgers is ordered by one of the legion of the hungry that began to line up along this otherwise relatively quiet block of the Lower Haight well before 11:00 AM.

A quick lunch break it's not, but you've got to be quick if you want in. The doors at Rosamunde open at 11:30 AM. The first order is taken shortly thereafter but it's another half-hour or so before the first burger is served. It's not too terribly much later that the last order is placed, usually sometime just after 1:00, and I'd guess you'd need to be in line a good hour ahead of that time to ensure you've got a chance. Sounds like an exercise in lunacy, I know, but it's damn well worth the wait. Read on and ye shall see.

We'd agreed to meet a friend at Rosamunde around 11:00 but made better than expected time on the crosstown train from Ferry Plaza, where we'd spent a leisurely morning working up our appetites by ogling the gustatory treasures at spots like Cowgirl Creamery, Acme Bread Company and Far West Fungi. At 10:45, the line had already snaked its way well down the block, tailed up when we arrived by the hat-headed guy above, who told us he never misses a week.

The sausage list looked tempting indeed, but we were there for one thing. The Tuesday burger. Three with everything, please. We decided there was no need to request a specific temperature, sensing that things would be just fine.


We were right. The guys at Rosamunde turn out what may just be the utmost example of textbook burger perfection. One generous patty, flame-grilled a perfect medium rare and set atop a toasted onion roll slathered with copious amounts of ketchup and mustard, and topped with melted cheddar, sauteed onions, lettuce and a slice of ripe tomato. A fistful of juicy, moan-and-groan-inducing goodness. I'm getting hungry just thinking about it.


And we were getting thirsty waiting for it. Thankfully, that half-hour plus waiting period from order to delivery can be spent right next door at Toronado, a solid, neighborhood dive bar that happens to have a seriously killer on-tap beer program. When the runner from Rosamunde finally comes over and calls your name, it's no problem to bring your burger right back to Toronado, just in time for round two (or three if you're drinkin' like you don't have to go back to work after lunch).

It's tough enough finding Russian River Brewing Company offerings on tap back east, where the brewery has a cult following and the beers are tightly allocated. And at $4/pint... forget about it. Time for a little RR Blind Pig IPA, a bright, snappy contrast to the wholesome richness of the Rosamunde burger.

The man responsible for leading us into this mid-week, mid-day hedonism: Wine & Spirits Magazine editor, Wolfgang "Spume" Weber. Wolfgang first let me in on the "secret burger" over a bottle of Poulsard in New York a few months back. When I told him I'd be SF bound in the fall, he suggested our mission and I held him to it. Killer tour guide that he is, WW even suggested a post-burger walk that led us to what's got to be one of San Francisco's most photographed sites, just a few blocks uphill from Rosamunde. We needed some way to burn off some of what we'd wolfed down, after all.

Is the Rosamunde and Toronado combo the ultimate burger and a beer experience? I'd be hard put to argue otherwise.

Rosamunde Sausage Grill
545 Haight Street
San Francisco, CA 94117
(415) 437-6851


Toronado
547 Haight Street
San Francisco, CA 94117
(415) 863-2276

Intro only...

Vincent Ricard's "Le Clos de Vauriou"

Touraine "Le Clos de Vauriou," Domaine Ricard 2008
$12. 12.5% alcohol. Composite cork. Importer: Petit Pois, Moorestown, NJ.

No high-fallutin' tasting note today. Just a quick nod to what's been one of my favorite everyday vins de soif of late. After a couple of recent vintages where "Le Clos de Vauriou" was a bit hit-or-miss due to issues with bottle variation and/or acetic acid bacteria, the 2008 has been rock solid. It delivers a mouthful of joyous fruit, abounds with character and pairs admirably with a damn wide range of dishes. I said it in May and I'm sayin' it again.... Ever so slightly tart acids, energetic texture, berries, pepper and a blood orange kick make it one of my most memorable $12 bottles of the year. As young Vincent Ricard promises/predicts on his website, "Vauriou" is indeed now throwing a deposit of fine, suspended particles, giving the wine a somewhat cloudy appearance but rendering it no less delicious than when it first came ashore.

Oh yeah, just in case you were wondering, "Le Clos de Vauriou" is varietal Gamay. File it under mid-week recession busters.

Intro only...

Pierre-Marie Chermette's "Les Deux Roches"

Pierre-Marie Chermette. His were the first wines that turned me on to not just the pleasures but also the deeper possibilities of Beaujolais. I first started drinking them in the mid-to-late nineties. It wasn't long thereafter that I found myself selling them, mostly the "Cuvée Traditionelle" but also the Crus, in fairly copious quantities. It's been a few years now since the shop where I work ended business relations with Chermette's US importer. I still terribly miss having such ready access to the wines.

Over the years, I've found that Chermette's wines are in possession of certain inimitable qualities that make them unmistakably delicious. They're so good that people of all persuasions are simply drawn to the wine, whether or not they understand why. I think part of that draw is the wines' intense concentration. In most vintages, the "Traditionelle" possesses richness far beyond most basic regional and Villages level Beaujolais, while the Fleurie and Moulin-à-Vent bottlings can go beyond concentrated to downright powerful.

There's a certain gut (or perhaps knee-jerk) response to call wines such as Pierre-Marie's atypical for their richness, darkness or concentration. I suppose in a sense they are atypical, as they are richer than typical Beaujolais; however, this really brings to light not some witchcraft or chemistry that Chermette is performing in the winery to achieve "big" wines but rather just how much Beaujolais out there is not so much light and simple as it is over-cropped and dilute. If more producers followed in a path similar to Chermette's, perhaps his wines would not seem so unusual.

Pierre-Marie and his wife, Martine, farm sustainably, harvest lower yields than average in the Beaujolais, and thin their crops as necessary to ensure full ripeness on the vine. As a result, the wines never require chaptalization. Fermentation techniques are traditional, based on native yeasts only and, to complement the natural structure of the fruit, run over a longer maceration period than is the norm. The wines are aged in foudres – even barriques for some of the Cru bottlings – and are finished without fining, filtration or much if any addition of sulfur dioxide.

In more recent years, I've shifted my fancies more to the Beaujolais of other producers; to the freshness and energy of Jean-Paul Brun, the beautiful bone structure of Coudert, and the filigreed purity of Jean Foillard, to name but a few. But there's still an honored spot in my heart for the occasional bottle that crosses my path from Domaine du Vissoux.

Moulin à Vent "Les Deux Roches," Domaine du Vissoux (Pierre-Marie Chermette) 2005
$25. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler, Unionville, PA.

"Les Deux Roches" takes its name from two parcels of vines owned and farmed by the Chermettes: the one-hectare "Rochegrès" and a two-hectare plot called "La Rochelle," both of which are granite-rich terroirs. The finished wine is based on an assemblage (blending) of wines from the two sites that occurs following fermentation and aging of between 4-6 months in previously used barrels. Pierre-Marie suggests keeping this cuvée anywhere from five to ten years from the vintage date; a recently enjoyed bottle gave me no reason to disagree with that prognostication.

Medium, translucent red in the glass, still hinting at its earlier purpler stage. Likewise on the nose, this is beginning to go pinotisé – morphing from primary, fruity aromas to meatier, earthier, more Burgundian characteristics – but still gives up an aromatic trace of Gamay's signature, youthful fruitiness. Great feel, both mouth-fillingly round and firmly yet gently gripping. The wine's power brings with it a flicker of heat in the upper palate, but that proves to be tamed when it's drunk with food rather than tasted without accompaniment. Medium acidity carries a wave of black cherry, damson and spiced red fruits across the palate. There's no doubt that this would be right at home in a mixed line-up of regional and even village level red Burgundies.

Thirty minutes in, the nose and fruit shut down hard, going mute and picking up a hint of musty earth. Another half-hour later the wine went into a whole other phase, richer and denser, showing the influence of a ripe vintage as well as the geographical proximity of Beaujolais to the Northern Rhône. Twenty minutes more and the wine returned to a more delicate, fresh acid-driven state but also blossomed aromatically, bursting with red raspberries on the nose. With day two came diminished vitality, but there was still plenty of pleasure to be found, particularly in the presence of food. Dead-on with roast poultry. Even more clearly pinotisé than a day earlier, this would make for a nice ringer in a flight of Marsannay or Côtes-de-Nuits-Villages.

A few more bottles would be a most welcome presence in my cellar, as I expect this will continue to develop and morph in compelling directions over the next five years.

Intro only...

Urban Winemaking at Dashe Cellars

Ask any hundred people what they consider the heartland of California wine country and Napa will no doubt top the list, followed closely by Sonoma. Ask the same group – and this implies the participants have at least some basic familiarity with the subject matter – about California’s new frontier and I’d hazard a guess that Santa Barbara or Paso Robles, maybe the Santa Rita Hills, would come out ahead. Yet more and more, some of the most compelling wines being produced in California today are coming from winemakers based within the urban landscape of the San Francisco Bay Area.

The godfather of this “new school” is no doubt Steve Edmunds, who’s been producing characterful wines that buck the trend of over-saturated, Californicated fruit since 1985 and doing so right in the heart of Berkeley. Perhaps it’s no coincidence that his neighbors at Edmunds St. John include the likes of Alice Waters and Kermit Lynch…. On the more freshly cut edge of the movement is the Natural Process Alliance, leading the locavore, low impact and natural wine front from its headquarters in Santa Rosa. Sandwiched between those two – both geographically and chronologically – is Dashe Cellars.

Michael and his wife Anne Dashe produced their first Dashe Cellars release, a Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel, in 1996. Over a dozen vintages later, they’re going strong, having slowly but surely garnered praise from the traditional wine press – they’ve made Wine & Spirits Magazine’s Top 100 Wineries list on several occasions – as well as from, more recently, natural wine cognoscenti. In 2005, Mike and Anne moved their winery to its current home in an industrial district of Oakland where, in the shadows of I-880, they share a 16,000 square foot warehouse/winemaking facility with JC Cellars. Dashe now produces approximately 10,000 cases (120,000 bottles) of wine per year, about 85% of which is Zinfandel.

During my recent trip to San Francisco, I had the chance to catch up with Mike and to visit Dashe Cellars in the full tilt of autumn harvest season. I’ll let the pictures, captions and tasting notes below tell the story. For more information, check out the Dashes’ website and be sure to (re)visit the interview I did with Mike earlier this year for 31 Days of Natural Wine.

Dashe Cellars shares a barn-red, relatively no-frills warehouse (located at 55 4th Street in Oakland, CA) about 60/40 with JC Cellars.

JC works the new barrels (look ma, no stains) to the left of Dashe’s three foudres, while Mike’s production inhabits the remainder of the warehouse, populated primarily by racks of older barriques and the ubiquitous phalanx (not pictured) of stainless steel fermentation tanks.

As mentioned above, we visited during a very busy day in late September, at the heart of NorCal harvest season. This was the second of three truckloads of grapes of the day for Dashe. The first, Petite Sirah, had arrived in the morning hours. This load of Zin arrived shortly after we did in the early afternoon, while a third truck pulled up with the day’s final delivery of Zinfandel just as we were saying our goodbyes. The Dashes, who own no vineyards themselves, source their fruit from primarily organic farms, with which they have long-term contracts, in the Dry Creek, Russian River, Alexander and Potter Valleys of California.




With freshness always foremost in mind, the fruit is moved quickly from the truck to the bin turner in half-ton crates. The process is pretty much business as usual, with Mike and his crew aiming to keep handling and manipulation of the fruit to a minimum. All fruit is hand sorted to remove leaves and any sub-par grapes, not to mention the occasional earwig. From there, it's on to the crusher/destemmer, from which the crushed juice is gently pumped into the waiting tanks inside the winery. All of Dashe's wines see a high percentage of whole berry fermentation; however, all of the Zins – and other wines at Mike's discretion – also receive a dose of press juice (that's Mike's pneumatic press in the bottom right photo) to ensure enough structure to support their ample fruit.


Back in the winery, the work is all focused on keeping the wines pure and expressive, with as little manipulation and adulteration as possible. Mike and Anne do much of the work themselves, helped by a rotating group of interns from enology schools such as UC Davis or by visiting wine makers from other regions. Mike commented that his interns are nearly always shocked to find that very nearly nothing is added to the fermenting and aging wines. Dashe ferments all of his wines, including the white and rosé, on their native yeasts. No commercial yeast, enzymes, acids or other additives/adjuncts are ever used (and Mike does not believe that cross-contamination occurs from the commercial yeast strains being used in the same warehouse space by JC Cellars). A small dose of sulfur dioxide is added at crush and again, though only if necessary and never for "L'Enfant Terrible," at bottling.

Mike is particularly happy with (and proud of) the results he's getting with the three foudres he purchased new from Tonnellerie Rousseau. The majority of Dashe's wines are still aged in older barriques but Mike plans to move more and more toward aging in larger casks as time and cash flow (those foudres are expensive) permit.


Our pals from Monterey, Steve and Stacy, had visited Dashe a few months earlier, not long after reading my interview with Mike, so they were already well acquainted with the wines. While pouring us tastes of a few of his current releases, Mike regaled us with some pretty hilarious stories of his past days writing technical user manuals for Atari. I guess a winery profile like this wouldn't be complete without at least a couple of tasting notes, so:

• 2008 Dry Riesling, McFadden Farms, Potter Valley (13.8%). Very ripe, round aromas of yellow plums and pineapple. Firm acidity. Succulent. Not as bracingly mineral as I might like but a very fine Cali Riesling.
  
  
• 2008 Grenache, Dry Creek Valley (13.8%). California Grenache under 14% alcohol? Yep. Very fresh, vibrant red berry fruit. Aged in old wood only. Gentle tannins and, for Grenache, good acidity. This reminded me very much of the style of Mike's "L'Enfant Terrible" Zinfandel. Lighter, brighter and fresher than more typical CA varietal expressions.
  
  
• 2008 Zinfandel "L'Enfant Terrible," McFadden Farms, Potter Valley (13.8%). California Zinfandel under 14% alcohol. Yep. The fruit for "the wild child" is sourced from the same cool, high altitude farm from which Mike purchases his Riesling. Macerated strawberries and pepper on the nose. Brightly textured and fresh, though a bit richer than the '07 version. In 2007, 280 cases of the 600 case production of "L'Enfant" were sold at The Slanted Door. As hinted at in the Grenache note above, Mike is considering creating other "L'Enfant Terrible" bottlings in the coming years.
  
  
• 2006 Zinfandel, Florence Vineyard, Dry Creek Valley (14.5%). Produced from young vine fruit. Super ripe on the nose and palate, full of raisins, chocolate and plum pudding but balanced by crunchy tannins.
  
  
• 2007 Zinfandel "Old Vines," Todd Brothers Ranch, Alexander Valley (14.7%). From 50 year-old vines. This was a stark contrast to the Florence Vineyard bottling; a much more elegant, structured style, showing coffee, licorice, blackberry and dark chocolate notes but on a finer, more restrained frame.
  
  
• 2007 Late Harvest Zinfandel, Dry Creek Valley (14.1%). Harvested at 40 brix, finished at 9% RS. Mike allows the fermentation to stop naturally then filters the wine to remove any yeast cells (and to prevent the possibility of re-fermentation) prior to bottling. Pretty damn tasty served, as the Dashes did, with a nibble of dark chocolate.

Clearly less comfortable at the computer and cash register than amongst the barrels, Mike called his wife Anne down from the winery office to meet us and help with our end of visit purchases. In case you've ever wondered about the winery's logo, I can now unequivocally confirm that Mike is the monkey and Anne is the fish.


Dashe Cellars is just a short walk from the Merrit Lake BART station, a quick drive across the Bay Bridge from downtown San Fracisco, and is also easily accessible from the greater Oakland and Berkeley areas. (We popped over to West Berkeley for pizza and beer at Lanesplitter after our visit.) Their tasting room is open to the public Thursday through Sunday from noon to 6:00 PM.

Dashe Cellars
55 4th Street
Oakland, CA 94607
(510) 452-1800

Intro only...

I Ate the Yankees

[The stage is set: a cloudy fall afternoon on the Lower East Side of Manhattan; it's Devil's Night Friday. In the background, faint strains of Brit Punk can be heard filtering through the street noise.]

"What exactly is a Yankees doughnut," I asked.

"Glazed with blueberry pinstripes, of course," came the answer. Ah yes, of course.... Then, “Where are you guys from?”

“My friends are from San Fran; I’m from Philly.”

They still sold me the doughnut, but only after throwing in some raspberries.

The doughnut was pretty enough but I refused to take its picture. I'm sure the bakers at the Doughnut Plant conceived it as a tribute but I was looking at it more as a voodoo-style exorcism. Eat it and, tasty or not, it would eventually end up exactly where I hoped the Yanks would be headed by the end of Game 7. Need I say more?

About that, perhaps not, but the goodies being dished up at the Doughnut Plant do bear further consideration, not to mention repeat investigation.


The PB&J in its pre- and mid-sacrificicial states.
Chompers courtesy of Old Wurld Old Skool Joe.
The basic glazed Yankees doughnut was chewier than the norm, giving it a much different, somehow more substantial feel than the typical melt-in-your-mouth sugar and shortening bomb. The real standouts though, as my sugar craving partners in crime have already reported, are the cake doughnuts, such as the coconut spiked Tres Leches with its creamy-sweet, dairy rich filling, and the decadently dark and rich Blackout, filled as the name implies with gooey, chocolate-y goodness. My pals were on an anti-pumpkin rampage all weekend but I didn’t let that stop me from enjoying the Plant’s seasonal offering. I must say, though, it paled in comparison to the PB&J, a square-shaped, heartier yeast-raised doughnut spread with peanut buttery glaze and filled with raspberry jam. Put that in a brown bag – guaranteed to send your kiddies into lunchtime sugar shock and send them careening back for more.

A dozen will set you back a pretty sum on the doughnut dollar scale but it’s definitely worth the occasional indulgence.

Doughnut Plant
379 Grand Street
New York, NY 10002
(212) 505-3700


Postscript: It should be noted that the title of this post is meant to be sung to the following tune, hopefully leading into, “...and the Yankees lost.” The next few days will tell….

Intro only...

A Post-Halloween Sun Ra Triptych

I predict a few jumps in the blogland timeline over the next few days. For now, think of it as space travel à la the Sun Ra Arkestra, which continues to thrive on the universal energy of music in Mr. Ra’s memory. Under the leadership of longtime member Marshall Allen, the Sun Ra Arkestra kicked off Saturday night’s first performance of “Anti-Jazz: The New Thing Revisited,” a four-part series being cross-promoted by Ars Nova Workshop and International House Philadelphia that continues through next spring. It’s hard to think of a show more appropriate for Halloween night. Funkadelic, perhaps… or Gwar might come close. But this was the real deal.

The first video of the trio below sets the Sun Ra stage. The second comes closest to capturing some of the more anarchic, freewheeling moments of the Halloween gig, with a 28-years younger Marshall Allen blowing his alto with wild abandon. The third… well, you’ll figure that one out.

Intro only...

Jo Pithon's 2005 Savennières "La Croix Picot"

Though I didn’t realize it at the time I purchased it, Jo Pithon’s 2005 Savennières represents a near end-point in the modern viticultural history of the Anjou. It’s the penultimate vintage ever to be bottled under Pithon’s own label and under his own autonomic control.

In 2005, a 95% stake in Domaine Jo Pithon was purchased from its financially strapped owner by Philip Fournier, founder of the telecommunications concern, Afone, which is based in Angers. Subsequently, Monsieur Fournier also purchased the Château de Chamboreau from its previous owner, Pierre Soulez, in 1996. The two estates have now been combined to form an aggregate of 27 hectares of vineyards situated throughout Angevin wine country. The wines are now being marketed under a new label, Domaine FL, after the family names of the new owner’s parents, Fournier and Longchamps. More complete details of the transaction and merger can be found at Jim’s Loire.

Though I hope I’m wrong, I fear that combining the two estates may lead to a loss of the individualistic characteristics and expressions of terroir of the old wines. It’s just a hunch, as “FL” seems to have positioned itself more as a brand name than a Domaine. If anyone out there has tasted the new wines, let me know; I’d be happy to be proven wrong.


Savennières "La Croix Picot," Domaine Jo Pithon 2005
$25. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Elite Wines Imports, Lorton, VA.

“La Croix Picot” is produced from young vines of organically farmed Chenin, planted in 2000 on a 1.1 hectare plot situated on a hillside overlooking the Loire and composed primarily of decomposed schist, with small amounts of clay, quartz, sand and red volcanic subsoil. As with all of Pithon’s wines, it’s aged in barriques (about 15% new, in this case) and produced with minimal application of sulfur and no enzymes, commercial yeasts or chaptalization.

I’ve heard some complaints about Pithon’s Savennières being dominated by its oak treatment but I didn’t find that to be the case. Perhaps it’s had enough time in the bottle now for the oak to integrate (not something that always happens) with the fruit. What I did find was a wine bursting with intensely ripe fruit, full of varietal Chenin characteristics, but not yet speaking clearly of its geographical origins.

Right out of the bottle, the wine bursts with scents and flavors of green pear – skins and all – and quince paste. It’s a very ripe yet totally controlled style, very textural and powerful but not out of balance. With air and a slight rise in service temperature, overtones of orange and vanilla cream emerged, even riper that at first glance, pushing towards over-ripeness but still contained enough to be quite enjoyable. On its second day, those orange tones were even more pronounced, joined by ripe, fleshy yellow peach. The wine’s power had subsided a bit, bringing the ripe textures and forward fruit more gently to the fore. Day three brought a loss of focus, all apple sauce on the nose and going loose on the palate.

I wouldn’t normally expect age worthiness given the extremely young age of the vines in “La Croix Picot,” but this is still very much in its infancy. It faded on day three, yes, but to be fair, there were only a few ounces left in the bottle…. I’d be very curious to see how the 2005 develops over the next three to five years, and equally curious to find where subsequent vintages lead under the Domaine FL masthead.

Intro only...

Five for Friday, Including Passing References to QPR and the Tyranny of the Tasting Note

For today, just a few notes and pics from a recent Friday get together. It had been too long, so I hope you’ll pardon my indulgences.

Rioja Gran Reserva “Viña Tondonia” Rosado, R. Lopez de Heredia 1998
$25. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: USA Wine Imports, New York, NY.
Drinking like your most comfortable pair of shoes feels, that pair you just can’t bring yourself to part with – soft, supportive, something you’d be happy to wear (or drink as the case may be) all day and just about every day. Showing medium, fully matured acidity, penetrating yet not at all forceful. Say what you will about the subjectivity of tasting notes (see the comments), this wine inspires them. A nose full of maple, orange confit and potpourri leads into a candied pecan driven flavor profile that persists and envelops the palate for minutes. Vanilla, pear, clove, peach, rose petals, winter melon… they’re all there. And the extraordinary QPR for a wine of this provenance and quality continues to astound me. Lovely stuff.

Côtes du Jura, Jean Bourdy 2005
$26. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: A Thomas Calder Selection, Potomac Selections, Landover, MD.
Jean Bourdy’s Côtes du Jura Blanc is varietal Chardonnay, which is aged in old oak tonneaux for 3-4 years prior to bottling, yielding a slightly oxidative style. Bourdy recommends decanting the wine 3-4 hours prior to consumption but we weren’t nearly so patient. In spite of our quick pour and even following a very tough act, the wine was quite subtly delicious, showing an intensely mineral nose laced with apple and pastry nuances. Drinking it, I couldn’t help but ponder whether there are Chardonnay based wines produced anywhere else that show such nervy, crackling, tight wire acidity. Certainly not in Chablis. Maybe, just maybe, in the tautest examples of Côtes des Blancs Champagne. But even then, I’m not so sure. The wine continued to improve as it warmed toward cellar temperature (which is the recommended serving temp, by the way), letting the wine’s inherent core of sweet concentration unfurl.


Sancerre “Clos la Néore,” Edmond Vatan 2007
$55. 13% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Wine Cellars Ltd., Briarcliff Manor, NY.
On this night, Vatan’s Sancerre – only a few ounces remained in a bottle opened the previous day – served as a quick segue before shifting into red gear. Very floral, bursting with aromas of lavender, Queen Anne’s lace and gooseberry pie. Maybe Sharon knows something I don’t (see her comments here), but this is really freaking delicious wine. Worth the splurge and, though I’ve never had what might be considered a fully mature example, reputedly quite worthy of cellaring.

Vallée d’Aoste Torrette “Vigne les Toules,” Les Crêtes 2006
$28. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Domaine Select, New York, NY.
Les Crêtes’ Torrette is a blend of 70% Petit Rouge – an heirloom vine, if you’ll forgive the term, native to the Valle d’Aosta – and 30% “other varieties.” Fermented in steel for a little over a week, the wine is then finished in older casks for about eight months before bottling. The wine reminds me very much of Freisa from the Langhe, barky in its aromas and texture and full of cinnamon, cocoa and huckleberry nuances, finished off with a slightly bitter edge. Very loamy, think of moldering forest floor. Raspy tannins and the slightest suggestion of a frizzante prickle make for a solid, rustic pleasure at the table. The QPR trend falls apart here, though; in the teens this would be a great value but in the high $20s I’m afraid it’s destined to be more of an occasional curiosity than a regular quaff.

Morey-Saint-Denis “Vieilles Vignes,” Jacky Truchot 2005
$45-ish. 12.5% alcohol. Cork. Importer: Weygandt-Metzler, Unionville, PA.
My friend Bill seems to have an unending knack for uncovering caches of Jacky Truchot’s Burgundies. This was a glorious bottle, more concentrated than the usual Truchot but that’s no doubt a natural outcome of the ’05 vintage. Loaded with savory, sweetly earthy umami characteristics yet equally bursting with black cherry fruit. Built to last, entirely in the vineyard rather than through any technique; immaculately balanced and, no matter how ripe and forward, entirely old school. Now if only I can convince him to part with a couple of bottles….

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IDSK Volume 3

After briefly alluding in my last post to a recent IDSK collaborative dinner, I realized I’d been remiss in not posting at least a little detail about the event. But first, for those that missed my report on Volume 2 back in July, a quick injection of background information seems in order. IDSK is an acronym for the recent collaborative efforts between Alexander Talbot of Ideas in Food and Shola Olunloyo of StudioKitchen. These are two chefs – one a long time Philly resident, the other a recent transplant – who both approach their craft with passion and intensity. If you’re into culinary artistry, the nuts and bolts of molecular gastronomic technique, or simply enjoy ogling near daily doses of some pretty high zoot food porn, their blogs both deserve to be on your reading list.

The theme at this recent outing was a combination of the exploration of subtlety of flavor coupled with malleability of form and textural contrast. Though I found the evening’s food somewhat less delicious overall than at IDSK2, there was still no lack of pleasure to be found in the moment. As always, the experience was helped along by a charming cast of dining companions, which by bizarre coincidence on this night included Tesco Vee's old college roommate, with whom I partook in a little reminiscing about the DC hardcore scene of the early-to-mid 80s.

It’s been long enough now (the dinner was held back on October 2) that I won’t belabor this post with intricate details of each course. Instead, I’ll just let Shola’s photos do the talking; you’ll see what I meant by my above food porn reference.

Hiramasa
broken icicle radishes, crab applesauce



Peanut Pumpkin
roasting jus, dona engracia



Matsutake Mushrooms and Bartlett Pears
hot and cold, raw and cooked



Chestnut Soup
gala apples, bacon bits



Warm Hiramasa
vadouvan, eggplant



Russet Potato Gnocchi
parsley, tender garlic, powdered raclette



Twice Cooked Scallop
chorizo, black cabbage, beef fat consomme



Whey Poached Beef Strip Loin
braised shank, red cabbage: raw and cooked



Adelegger 17 Month
yellow tomato jam



Apple Pie and Coffee


* * *
In the old days at StudioKitchen – these dinners are BYOB – Shola had always presented a menu long enough in advance to allow for specific wine pairings. He and Alex have more recently taken to fine tuning their final menu right up to the last moment. As such, they encourage their guests to bring whatever they’d like to drink. For me, that means packing up a wide range of wines with an eye toward versatility and food friendliness. Of course, they’re all things I’d like to drink as well. On this night, I ended up sharing just about everything I’d brought with my fellow diners. No pictures to do the talking this time, so some quick notes seem in order.

Jochen Ratzenberger’s 2003 Bacharacher Kloster Fürstental Riesling Sekt showed the ripeness of the vintage in its rounder, bigger mouthfeel than in more typical years but was still a delicious way to start the evening.

As is my friend Bill, I’m convinced that one could very successfully pair Riesling with nearly everything that Shola cooks. So, for the first course or two, Riesling it was. Johann Peter Reinert’s 2005 Wiltinger Schlangengraben Spätlese halbtrocken, to be exact, which showed a whiff of sulfur when first poured but was also beginning to develop some lovely mineral pungency. Great, cleansing acids and lots of yellow plum and green apple fruit, as well. Excellent food wine. As I’ve said here before, Reinert’s wines are super under-appreciated.

That all-Riesling fest will have to wait until next time, as next up was the 2004 Viré-Clessé from André Bonhomme. This was much more developed than I’d have hoped or expected, showing some premox character in its slightly oxidized entry, followed up by poached pear and walnut on the palate. It improved as its temperature rose but not enough to make anything near a full recovery.

A bottle of 2006 Coudert Fleurie “Clos de Roilette” was screamingly good, showing amazing, even atypical levels of richness but still full of focus. Totally on point, though it’s got years ahead of it, and a great match with the garlic-potato-parsley combo in the gnocchi course.

Last up was a 1998 Gigondas from Château du Trignon, which gave the “Roilette” a serious run for its money. I’ve been disappointed with some other ’98 Southern Rhônes I’ve opened over the past year or two, as they’d either not gone anywhere or already begun to fade. This, though, was a lovely expression of Grenache, all crushed red fruits and garrigue, with the elegance that comes to wines like this only with age.

Finally, some music with which to bring things to a close. It’s not quite the same Meatmen mayhem as 20+ years ago but, even if you didn’t follow the link earlier on, I know you were just dying to see Tesco Vee in action.

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