Doktor Weingolb

Out of shape at 33

2008-07-10T08:28:00.017-04:00

Out of shape at 33 is one of those targeted ads you see on Facebook. They are insidious, but ultimately they are an acceptable trade-off for many Facebookers (you reveal your birth date so your friends can get birthday reminders in order to buy you a drink; you suffer thereafter a torrent of tanned, toned abdominal muscles that call you out by your age, peppering you with reproach about your wanning fitness the day after your birthday).

But they are only annoying as they are effective. Internet incantations of laziness prompted me to post this, after all.

Finally, after six weeks of inactivity and silence, I am posting. Finally, after a marked increase in bottles of calorie-rich wine (that just so happened to match my sudden hike in vacation time, which always carries with it wanning physical activity)!

And, sure enough, this post comes after a time away in which I celebrated my 33rd birthday. So that's me who's out of shape. There's no contest: I really am out of shape at 33. At the very least, this blog space is a testament to it.

SEXY, STREAMLINED AND SAVVY IN AN ALTERNATE UNIVERSE

I bring up Facebook mostly because I'm on it and I'm on it a lot. (Oh, don't act surprised. You're on there too. So is Steve De Long of De Long's Wine Moment. So is David McDuff of McDuff's Food and Wine Trail.)

Need more proof of how much I'm on there (other than the sad abs-in-my-face story)? Here:
MY NEW WINE BLOG ON FACEBOOK

Yes, I've been somewhat busy with a new foray for Weingolb set in an exciting collaborative environment: it's called the Facebook page.

Here's what a Facebook page brings:

public access to everyone on the Internet (notice that I didn't say it was a Facebook profile!) so it's not restricted to registered Facebook members (though Facebookers do get the added benefits of an improved social networking experience, which is something that has entirely changed the raison d'être of wineblogging for me -- thanks especially to BrooklynGuy, Bill "the Caveman" Zacharkiw and Joe from Joe's Wine

a multi-purpose wall for writing comments, wine reviews or comments on wine reviews (or...?)

a discussion board for enhanced development of forum topics

the easiest photo and video upload tool on the planet -- accessible to all, whether you are a reader, administrator, weindoktor or plonkpupil

built-in RSS and news feed features for reliably keeping track of updates

event creation -- though it's a bit stiff and I admit could be better -- and the usual web 2.0 bells and whistles

automatic web tracking and metrics (bye-bye slow-loading Site Meter)

convenience and ease of access... since I'm already always on Facebook!

Ooops. I've forgotten a bit about wineblogging. It has been a long, long time since I last wine blogged. I meant to say... Here's what my Facebook page brings:

A Great White Gaillac

The Best Rasteau in the World

A '97 Brunello

A Maury for digestion

And those were just wines suitable for the celebration of my 33rd birthday. Plenty of other everyday wines are documented too.

Lorieux's Thélème Chinon

Lorieux's Mauguerets Bourgeuil -- in fact a Saint-Nicolas-de-Bourgeuil to be exact, called Les Mauguerets-La Contrie

all those Pinot Noirs that Joe and I tasted at our 05 Champys tasting (already reported by Joe in this Joe's Wine post)

I'm about to post reviews on Château Candastre, another French southwest wine from Gaillac, this time red, and a Limoux sparkling wine from Laurens.

Drink up!

Thanks to all the clever bloggers I have continued to read during my slow-down and switch. They have kept me inspired. I may never publish notes once a day as I did when I started this site. But I am hopeful that this move could ultimately be better than the blogging of my early days anyway.

So I hope you will visit me over here on my re-launched page.

"De la terre"

2008-06-02T16:20:00.031-04:00

De la terre means from the earth.

De la terre is also the name of the bakery café that my sister works at in Fonthill, Ontario. Its focus is on local and organic, with local taking precedence over certified organic, but often you get both. So one way or the other "de la terre" is a well suited name for this place.

See their website for words from the horse's mouth. It's at De la terre Café and Bakery.

Or read on below for what I was able to pick up about this ambitious and pleasing spot.

Though my sister has only been working as pastry chef apprentice since November 1, 2007, De la terre is already approaching its second anniversary. Jan Campbell-Luxton is the proprietor and chef of the café. He serves up a mean breakfast (shown in the photographs here) and lunch (I sampled an amazing braised beef sourdough sandwich with the best Ontario mustard I've ever tasted, as well as an fascinating celery root and apple soup).

Though it's open for breakfast and lunch but not dinner, De la terre possesses an omnipotent influence on the neighbourhood that surrounds it. In addition to a commitment to local food crops, Jan also has a barter system set up so that anyone can bring in their fresh chemical-free greens or other local produce and strike up a deal with the kitchen.

I imagine that they've given out more than a few loaves of their bread this way. Their bread is also distributed at the Grimsby market on Thursdays and at a various other establishments, including the Saint Catharines restaurant called Pan Café.

SETTING OTHER ANNIVERSARIES

As a pastry chef, my sister may not be affected by local harvests as much as head chefs who manage an entire kitchen. Regardless, she does use many regional ingredients in her creations.

You can see some of her recent baking, which she has been doing entirely on a volunteer basis. See the spelt wedding cake and dessert trays she customized for a wedding in Ball's Falls last weekend by clicking here.

That wedding -- my brother's, in fact -- carried a local theme similar to so many restaurants, recipes and cuisines have been the trend at the moment in the cultural zeitgeist. At the wedding reception, all the cupcakes, spelt brownies and other dessert nibblies were baked in a conventional domestic oven, in my sister's simple kitchen, located about only 15 minutes away from the reception.

Also keeping with the local theme, the wedding favours given out to guests of my brother and his bride once the fabulous desserts ended were large clay pots of young herbs -- mint, sage and rosemary sprigs. These were starter kits for a summer of home harvesting.

Local may be trendy these days, but it is more than that in the bigger picture. And it's more than sentiment at a wedding. It's delicious, for one thing.

When you're one of the neighbours of De la terre Café and Bakery, it's a huge benefit too and valuable addition to the community.

I left my iPod in San Francisco

2008-05-26T09:05:00.011-04:00

I got tagged with a musical meme by my buddy Joe at a perfect time.

I've been reminiscing about the traveling I did in California during the first half of April. And I've been reminiscing about the West Coast(-inspired) music that often served as ambition for my trip.

Neither one is with me anymore. Both the scenery and songs are now gone. All I have are memories, and luckily, some mp3 copies on my hard drive.

So here then, thanks to Joe of Joe's Wine Journal, is what I have been listening to lately -- sounds that have definitely shaped my spring (these are not mp3s but rather video links so just click on them to listen to the tracks).

MGMT - "Of Moons, Birds & Monsters"

Shea at Just Grapes responded to Joe's tag with "Kids," this band's most alluring pop song in my opinion. But MGMT are a very talented act with some serious chops in so many genres: glam, psychedelica, classic rock, indie dance, even disco. My great hope for modern music in 08, though I must say that their live show doesn't suggest the how incredible their debut full-length recording is. Buy Oracular Spectacular before your friends do.

Sonic Youth - "Disappearer"

The best band in the universe once wrote an album called "Goo" that chronicled the effect of show business to those new to the biz. It's a modern-day Gypsy but with a noisier score than "Everything's Coming Up Roses," and it's more about Hollywoodland than anything I else I could grab when I was packing my bags for my first trip to Cali.

Saint Etienne - "Postman"

Though a British band with a French pop element, Saint Etienne sing many songs that evoke or pay homage to postwar California. Much of their 1998 album named Good Humor (with its characteristic US spelling), evokes California living and chasing the American dream, usually with a catharsis or two along the way.

No Age - "Neck Escaper"

The band shown at the end of the video linked above is not No Age, but another Los Angeles band named AAnchors AAweigh, who I enjoyed at Spaceland in Silver Lake on April 11. No Age, meanwhile, is primed for big success with their new album Nouns following the critical acclaim of their last release Weirdo Rippers, from which this infectious track is taken.

Imperial Teen - "Room With A View"

The rushed, do-it-all, fit-it-all-in-better-than-you feeling of this song captured my week in San Francisco in retrospect. It's about grabbing what you can, while you can, even though you know it's not gonna last. The band is not on my regular rotation list but I admire them more than I listen to them, which is okay too.

Yeah Yeah Yeahs - "10 x 10"

I'm always aurally turned on by the sounds of this Brooklyn band, now spending much of its time in LA. No clue about what this song is actually about lyrically. I just love their feisty throw-downs, their great guitar sounds and their sense of self.

Pavement - "Fillmore Jive"

This could be the best song of all time. After seeing the musical depth of this Bay Area band's ten-year oeuvre when jazz masters James Carter, Cyrus Chestnut, Reginald Veal and Ali Jackson pored over songs from the Pavement catalog, there's no doubt that cuts like "Fillmore Jive" can live forever. It's nice to be particularly into this track at the moment once again.

Chloe, Helena and me: California split wins big at Café Chloe when I order the dinner special and pour Château Montelena 2005

2008-05-14T23:53:00.021-04:00

(MUSIC CREDIT: DJ SHADOW)

This is the first video upload I've ever done on my blog. A fantastic meal matched by an astounding wine were the factors that led me to create it. But it's not a video on the wine or the restaurant per se. Rather, it's a video inspired by them -- these are the scenes that unfolded around me while drinking California's best wine at what must be Southern California's best sidewalk cafe. It's less a gastronomic documentary than it is an interpretation of feeling; less food and wine than twilight mystery developing into the rich, delicious night. It's the Ch Petrogasm of wine video podcasting, if you will.

(By the way, the evocative soundtrack is by California's DJ Shadow, who hails from Davis -- especially suitable since it is the centre of California wine knowledge.)

This comes at a momentous point in time: After I (a) dined at the same restaurant for three consecutive days and (b) finally tasted an American wine that actually made me think seriously about the meaning of the Judgment of Paris.

I can safely say that neither of these things has happened to me before. Until now, I was more of an accidental tourist, never planning to repeatedly return to the same venue while on vacation abroad -- never finding a restaurant with such savvy, yet retaining a keen sense of self (Café Chloe, in San Diego's Gaslamp District, was originally tapped by the inordinately useful Brooklynguy). And also until now, I thought I was the judge on whether I bought New World or Old World wine. Tasting this Napa Valley wine made me think that maybe California was holding all the cards.

So can California cash in on me and make me a repeat player at their table? For a bottle of what I tasted, it's $44.50 in Quebec, and $44.95 in Ontario. In its home state, you'd pay a sommelier some 30-something dollars for a half bottle, which would roughly make the retail price up to $10 cheaper south of the border.

At either pricepoint, this wine is worth it. the wine I am talking about is the Château Montelena Chardonnay Napa Valley 2005. It doesn't just try to be Chablis, it does one better with its own beguiling expressiveness.

But the smart sommelier service I received and the great, truly French approach that Café Chloe demonstrates played their part too, making this a dinner of synergy and total amusement.

Château Montelena Chardonnay Napa Valley 2005

Eyes: As my video suggests, I was taking notes on the Café Chloe sidewalk terrace after dark. The gleaming lights of the San Diego Padres at Petco Park were a feeble twinkle behind Farkas Store Fixtures. No notes on the visuals, sorry.

Nose: Toasty nose. Yeast and brioche with green-tinted fruit.

Mouth: Best of both Worlds? This has a buttery finish on a seriously minerally and citrus-exposed version of Chardonnay. So buttery it seems creamy and sort of oxidized at first (malolactic fermentation?) but it is terrific and worth paying attention to. Strict lines frame a wine with deep, ponderous expression but it's quixotically sharply bracing, with great slaking refreshment. Like the California sea air. Refreshing, but more contemplative than a typical Chablis. And the nice layer of wood or that slight malo hint I get. Dry, lingering, with a balance that makes the the dismount as wonderful as the attack.

Stomach: Café Chloe served me a great dinner plate with loads of local produce, tastefully done and beautifully presented. With the fresh Pacific salmon I had (my first), I was enchanted. Though if I have to honestly say whether tasted more terroir in the fish than in my Chardonnay, I'd single out the drink. While the fish was prepared to perfection, I was let down by (perhaps) overblown promises of Pacific Coast catches, especially the salmon, in this case.

I'd say that salmon's not the ideal match for a clean-lined Chard -- herbed roasted chicken might be the best pairing -- but it didn't matter in the least. The basic building blocks I was given were there. West Coast brilliance!

And my last post said I had to force things in California?

Calistoga, Napa Valley, California, U.S.A. 13.5%.

On vacation in California, forcing the American wine out of me

2008-05-05T22:48:00.017-04:00

The trouble with Californian wine may be California -- the Freeway State.

Half the time I was trying to have fun and kick back; the other half I was desperately trying to burn up the alcohol I ingested so I could get back in the car and up the next on-ramp.

Here I am suffering through a dubious do-it-yourself Breathalyzer test in Griffith Park. I don't even think the test worked, but more on that later.

To tell it to you straight, my palate is no more a lover of the fat reds of California than my liver is. And I've been vocal in my disapproval of American wines, even when my liver for the most part would stay intact. Arising transportation issues made my outlook on exploring the local wine scene dimmer -- even in sunny SoCal.

So the idea of navigating my rental car from wine stop to wine stop in Sonoma, Santa Barbara and Temecula was dead in the water before it ever began. I drove to Mar Vista, and took a tour of some chateaux which were are simple, flat-roofed and hugging the ground instead. I took snapshots, not shots of wine, while I was there.

I wasn't even going to try to try California wine after coming all this way. It was my own stubbornness and fear of DUI, plus a wee bit of being a bad wineblogger (or else I wouldn't have created my first-ever video documentary on YouTube on the rather dry and sobering topic of postwar California tract housing and subsequently post it online to my other non-wine blog... Clearly a good wineblogger would've produced from this trip some insightful, if scathing, wine podcasts instead of researching residential history for a Mar Vista montage that nobody will want to watch).

A LIGHT AT THE END OF MY TUNNEL VISION

I may have been so busy forsaking Californian wine along with its higher than normal alcohol content that I didn't recognize this bottle of value wine that we picked up in Los Feliz. It came with a cute Retsina glass cellophaned over the top and was only $11.99 -- a no brainer for a spur-of-the-moment picnic wine. And that was before we tasted it. It wasn't bad!

In retrospect, I think my fellow wine drinker and I could've finished the bottle and I could've had the usual "full share" of my portion and not left the remaining wine you see here. It was a nice "light" Cali alternative.

It got the same thumb's up that my co-pilot gave me for putting the keys in the ignition. While DYI Breathalyzer tests can be tricky to administer and interpret, ultimately friends don't let friends drive drunk.

Which is great.

But as I said, me = bad wineblogger. I don't have any more details to give you on our experience with the wine than what is written and pictured here.

But I have more than that for my next post: I did myself and others a big favour by tasting and writing a note for a Chateau Montelena.

SNAKSHOT: Greens is Golden

2008-04-21T22:56:00.014-04:00

The tag for this post should be "Foodbloggers' Guide to the Globe" because anyblogger who's been to San Francisco's Greens would nominate it a top taste of the city.

Never mind that everyone's meal also comes with a view of the Golden Gate Bridge. And without being overly scientific above it, Greens' wine list was the most welcoming experience of my two weeks in California. It presents a host of food-friendly wines from all over served by the glass and with reasonable prices on bottles, and half-bottles too -- which is what a solo diner like me went with, after a glass of Kuentz-Bas Blanc Alsace 2005, which being a blend of Pinot Gris, Pinot Blanc and Riesling, was a beautiful way to support the blood orange salad starter.

Everything was delicious, perfect, heavenly. Including my server, Cher, who helped when I balked at finishing the last portions remaining of the Domaine Catherine La Goeuil Cuvée Léa Flesch Côtes du Rhône-Villages Cairanne 2005. It was made for the Mesquite Grilled Brochettes -- skewers of mushrooms, peppers, garnet yams, fennel, potatoes, cherry tomatoes and marinated tofu with charmoula, served on cherry-pistachio couscous.

And that the golden crusty bread they serve is always from The Acme Bread Company, which is far and away the best bakery in the city.

The place is without fault. You can approach the menu blindfolded -- it's all that good.

Just don't ask for meat 'cause they don't have any.

Notes on Alain Lorieux Expression 2005, Bernard Baudry Les Grezeaux 2004... and the best drink made in California comes from a Clover

2008-04-20T14:04:00.011-04:00

It's me again, back from California, mopping up the remains of WBW 44 by finding those tasting notes I omitted from my last post.

Since that post I've been down to San Diego, up to LA, and back to San Francisco, eating amazing food all the way, and probably gaining some extra weight after these two full weeks of eating out (that's okay -- that's what airplane bugs are for).

FOOD SLOW AND FANTASTIC, WINE EXPENSIVE AND LESS FINE

When visiting California, the wine is, in every case except at the carbon-footprint-reducing Getty Center Restaurant in Los Angeles, international in scope. The Getty takes a stand by offering only local wine. So it was at the Getty that I launched into a half bottle of Qupé Syrah from the Central Coast. It made me think more of Australia than Rhône -- whose grape varieties this winery has claimed to dedicate itself to. It was no Château Montelena (an exceptional wine that deserves a separate post here), but the 2006 was not devoid of charm either. In the end, it was like too many Californians I drink: too expensive and not my style. Or, for short: $$$, NMS

(I must've started sounding like a broken record saying this because while in San Francisco someone handed me a glass of Sanford Pinot Noir Vin Gris from Santa Barbara (the first winery shown in the movie Sideways) and it was an extreme counterpoint to Qupés everywhere, yet it that did little to improve my notion of the charm in West Coast wine.)

Oh well. There are bigger and brighter things for someone like me to gravitate to when in California. Like the image above taken from the Bay Area's Blue Bottle Cafe, a place that epitomizes the movement I might call next-wave drip coffee. This movement extends from coffees made from French presses (Bodums) to Eva Solo brewers (individually filtered cups), to vacuum siphons, Chemex coffeemakers and the crazy Rube Goldberg thing pictured above that uses gravity, no heat and a little time to brew ice coffee. And finally there's the ultimate: the Clover. And California's got more retail Clovers than any state in the union.

THE CLOVERS ARE COMING

One coffee from a Clover coffee brewer had me thinking that my favourite espresso from a Synesso machine was all wet. Perhaps not better, but so different.

If a caffè macchiato is like a Tannat-walloping Madiran, a Clover drip coffee is an elegant Irouléguy -- delivering the same goods ultimately but in an aromatic and charming way with a huge front and mid palate and a gently bitter finish. Irouléguy wines are what I want to drink at dinner this summer; Clover coffees are how I want my summer mornings to start.

Unfortunately, the closest Clover I know of is at the Dalhousie Bridgehead in Ottawa. I'm sure they are lurking in the streets of our towns, ready to spring up soon. Or else I'll be springing up in Ottawa. Watch for them/me.

So wine analogies aren't a theme on this blog, wine is. Without further ado:

NOTES ON MY WBW 44 CHINONS

Please click on an image for links to additional product information.

Alain Lorieux Expression Chinon 2005

Eyes: Colour is deep purple.

Nose: Licorice and stewed fruit.

Mouth: Creamy and very aromatic; pithy but juicy too with a nice bitter note. Very tannic. Characteristic "green pepper" but it's more leafy, musky and minerally than the stereotype might suggest. A lean angular structure -- not too overwhelming on the palate, with med body but dryiing tannins leave a strong impression.

Stomach: With food, it's a spicy and alluring dinner wine. Tuna and fresh tomato and herb pasta with lots of olive oil is perfect with it. This echoes the vegetal elements of the wine. A lively acidity support this Chinon at the table.

Alain & Pascal Lorieux, Cravant-les-Coteaux, Chinon, France. 13.5%.

Bernard Baudry Les Grezeaux Chinon 2004

Eyes: Colour is bright fuschia, lighter around the rim and vibrant purple at the centre.

Nose: Dried herbs, alcohol and fruit compote -- a very sharp and astringent perfume.

Mouth: Much fruit, black cherry with its pits covered in cream and with a bright acidity. Mineral and tannic -- a typical combination that conveys the earthy spice of the Loire terroir. Smoothness on the finish, average length, light to medium body overall.

Stomach: A juicy cut of beef and mushrooms with thyme and orange and yellow peppers. A more alcoholic impression than most (even though it is a quite low 13) and as an outcome of that, seems to demand heartier fare.

Coteau de Sonnay, Cravant-les-Coteaux, Chinon, France. 13%.

Gary Vaynerchuk slays WBW 44. He slays it!

2008-04-02T22:31:00.008-04:00

The first wine I tasted in California was a Chinon.

You don't hear that too often. But maybe TV Wine Library will help make it sound a little less out of the ordinary.

I am now spending my third day in California and I still have yet to taste a Californian wine. This is odd. Forces are working against me holding out much longer. Like last night at San Francisco's Nopa. I ordered a Gigondas and I get word back that there are none left -- I should have the Zinfandel instead. It's comparable in price, my server indicated.

But there's no price I am willing to pay for American wine.

Around $20 for a half bottle of Chinon at Restaurant Clementine (Inner Richmond) on Wine Blogging Wednesday? You bet.

Luckily, the one-country wine list at Delfina, which is on 18th at Guerrero, is not all American, it's Italian and southern Italian at that, which is utterly marvelous.

CHINON? MAIS OUI!

The two Chinons I tasted in preparation for WBW 44 are better than any wine I've tasted this week. Could it be because of the terroir? Could it just be something in the grapes? In the winemaking culture there? Like Gary claims, I think Chinon and its use of the Cabernet Franc grape got a good thing going on. I try not to over-analyze it.

I especially will not over-analyze it today, in the middle of my vacation (I just happen to have found a San José-bound bus issuing tickets that come with free WiFi (don't you love tech alley?) I have lots of notes to publish for WBW 44 but they will have to wait till later.

Until then, take a look at the labels on three very lovely Chinon reds. And here's a hint. The one shown in the middle of this post is the cheapest one and the best one. Here's another hint: You don't need a tasting note to run out and buy what you see pictured above "CHINON? MAIS OUI" -- or Would you like a Chinon? ... Of course you would! -- so just go out and get some.

150th wine review (100 reds and 50 whites): Domaine de l'Écu Expression de Granite 2006

2008-04-01T16:16:00.003-04:00

I drink red wine about twice as often as I drink white wine. It turns out that I review red and white wine at a rate exactly proportional to this.

When I was about to hit my 100th red wine review, I noticed that I was also about to my 50th white wine review too. Today post is a benchmark: 150th review, marking exactly 100 red writeups and 50 white wine writeups. (Sometimes one review will actually feature more than one bottle -- so I imagine that I have actually published tasting notes for about 200 bottles by this point.)

Worthy wine review #150 is my preferred white wine from last year, a very special Muscadet, now out with its 2006 vintage. Would it be as great as the 2005? When I saw the extra care in the wine shop display, I figured this was going to be good and I wasn't alone in welcoming it with outstretched arms (and artistic box cutter).

Domaine de l'Écu Expression de Granite Muscadet Sevre et Maine 2006

So this 2006 came in a tall slender Alsacian-type bottle rather than the standard one like last year's bottle, with its characteristic linear angles at the neck. I didn't like it as much. And the outside package hinted accurately at what was on the inside. You can judge a book by its cover?

Eyes: Pale straw colour, green tinted hue.

Nose: Mineral, creamy but spritely and vinous.

Mouth: Lacks zippy citrus accents of the 05 and generally comes off dilute in comparison, even if only comparing it to its $20 pricepoint. Has expected mineral notes, and a subtle yeasty toasted flavour. Very light bodied. Mildly refreshing. Tonic.

Stomach: Bread brings out the best in this Muscadet. Add flavourful garnishes at your peril.

The 2006 is echelons below the landmark 2005. It is not even value for the money as plenty of Muscadets are about as good at less than $15.

Guy Bossard, La Bretonnière, Le Landreau, France. 12%. Certified organic wine.

More news on WBW, plus a failed theme of my own called "When chard turns to sherry": Laroche Les Pierres 2002 and Alvear Carlos VII Montilla Moriles

2008-03-20T12:07:00.016-04:00

Lenn Thompson's Wine Blogging Wednesday legacy continues to inspire. This month in particular, I've found that I've been posting multiple WBW entries, even though WBW comes but once a month.

With the latest WBW news, I'm certainly not stopping the flow of WBW posts now -- so March continues to be a month full of interesting WBW developments and I'm on a roll posting about them.

Lenn, who runs LennDevours, should be very proud of an announcement made yesterday that Gary Vaynerchuk is the next host of WBW 44 on April 2 (AKA the 33rd of March).

The theme set by Gary for WBW 44 is French Cabernet Franc, which in itself is fantastic, but it's so much more than that. Gary's Wine Library TV makes WBW 44 the first edition to be hosted by a video blog (or so I believe). Plus Gary is a force, on a totally different level than any other blogger (a testament to this is how many non-wino, non-blogging friends of mine have tried to point me to Gary's site over the years). Gary has obviously had crossover success. He's penetrated the genre of online wine criticism, branded his own unique take on wine talk, and reached out and touched the great unwashed, for lack of a better term. And, by the way, it's worth noting the influence he has. WBW 44 participants are supposed to link their blog's entry by using the comments attached to Gary's announcement, which was officially made in Episode 426 -- well, in less than one day, Episode 426 has already received 315 comments and the blogging event is still weeks away. Now that's some reach!

ENTER MY MISBEGOTTEN WINE THEME

Last Wednesday, I found myself reaching. Except unlike Gary, when I'm reaching, I'm usually over-reaching. Anyway, there I was, sitting around mid-month and bored. No sign of the next WBW, and WBW 43 was already over and successfully wrapped up.

I was desperate for some theme action.

So I walked into a wine shop and instantly created a theme for my purchase: Discounted wine. Yes, discounted wine. See the receipt pictured at right -- I not only saved $2.50 or 10% off a $25 bottle, I also saved 5 cents more as I brought my own reusable bag for my purchase. $2.55 in my pocket! Yay, discount wine theme!

Gentle reader, you do note the irony here.

Discounted wine is a dangerous topic and even more dangerous as a theme for a blogging event. How many of you have bought marked down bottles only to uncork them and find that there was good reason for their being priced to clear?

I was entirely optimistic at the time though.

Les Pierres means "the rocks" in French, plus since 2002 was such a great year for cold-climate French wine, I figured I was on solid ground with this find.

So I went ahead and rescued that last 2002 Chablis languishing on the shelf from among a bunch of 2004s. The 2002 had a stained label (see photo at left for its good side, photo below for its bad side).

More than that the 2002 sported a different cuvée name than the 04s (they were also marked down but christened "Saint-Martin," not "Les Pierres" as the 2002 was -- yet they all shared the same product code and that same alluring discounted price.)

In fact, I bought this wine before. I recall enjoying the 2002 Chablis from Domaine Laroche a couple of years ago. I even noted it here. It was not called "Les Pierres" at that time either, which now leads me to think that this discounted bottle was a mix-up. Perhaps a remainder from an old shipment destined for some other market where Laroche wanted a less saintly, more rock-solid image. Who knows whose hands touched it. Or didn't touch it as the case may be, leaving it to oxidize and taint in warm rooms hit by direct sunlight.

But to the consumer who sees the 10% promise attached around the neck of this bottle, only that stained label is apparent. And so the smart consumer buys it, thinking that it's what's inside that counts.

Well, here's what's inside...

Domaine Laroche "Les Pierres" Chablis 2002

Eyes: An intense amber colour.

Nose: Very oxidized, tragically so -- acrid, rotting vegetables.

Mouth: Piercing on the palate, beyond vinegary. This is fermented.

Stomach: Puke-inducing.

Michel Laroche, Chablis, France. 12.5%.

But all was not lost. The theme of my impromptu event was changing before my very eyes. Friends had a bottle of sherry to open, which was a serendipitous turn. It was a non-vintage Amontillado from the Montilla Moriles appellation from Andalusia region of Spain.

So we opened it to see whether our volatile Chablis was actually on its way to sherry glory. And maybe in that sense cut it some slack.

First, I should say that this Amontillado produced by Alvear is more on the Fino sherry side than Oloroso. Typically, Amontillados are in between the two -- darker than a Fino but lighter than an Oloroso -- but I thought this bottle was quite reminiscent of some Finos I've had. Dry and deftly penetrating. An aperitif-type drink to enjoy before the food arrives.

Here now are the comparative notes...

Alvear Carlos VII Amontillado Montilla Moriles

Eyes: Slightly less opulent in colour but more viscous.

Nose: Oxidation but with great complexity -- nut purees, apricot confits, allspice and other stunning spicy notes.

Mouth: Wet bandages and almond shells, alcoholic but stylish and drying.

Stomach: Aperitif, ideal with dry-roasted nutmeats.

Córdoba, Andalucía, Espagne. 19%.

Conclusions! Old Chablis does not a sherry make; Caveat emptor, especially on older wines that are discounted.

Serial title abusers beware: Is there a doctor in the house wine recommendation?

2008-03-17T23:39:00.007-04:00

Well it's a good thing that I didn't jet off to Germany over the weekend because I totally missed the news from Friday.

Drs. Vino and Debs, and the Winedoctor too, you all might want to read this carefully.

. . . researchers in Germany have faced criminal probes in recent months for using the title "Dr." on their business cards, Web sites and resumes . . .

Under a little-known Nazi-era law, only people who earn PhDs or medical degrees in Germany are allowed to use "Dr." as a courtesy title.

. . .

Violators can face a year behind bars. (!!)

And then it gets worse, after it seems to get better.

Last week, state education ministers met in Berlin and recommended that the law be modified so anyone holding a doctorate or medical degree from America could be addressed as "Dr." without running afoul of the police.

Anyone with a PhD from Canada, Japan or the rest of the non-European world would still be excluded.

Okay, so maybe all the doctors I mentioned above might not need to worry much longer, but I may need to seriously think about mothballing this site before I ever visit Cologne.

Read the whole story in last week's Washington Post.

Another WBW update: Attems Cicinis Bianco 2005

2008-03-14T08:22:00.006-04:00

You've heard about the impossibility of a month of Sundays, but how about a month of WBWs? It's not impossible!

March is shaping up to be a month of Wine Blogging Wednesdays around here. WBW 43 wraps up with a rundown on comfort wines (click to Wine Life Today to figure out what that means -- Joel Vincent did a thorough write-up). Meanwhile, I'm finally publishing notes I wrote up with the idea of posting them to WBW 41, which was on the theme of Friuli-Venezia Giulia white wines.

Please bare with me and my misgivings on the blogging event front. I'm not participating as much as I would like to. And then when I do, I go and code 42 into the URL for WBW 43 or decide to contribute two months too late. Whoops!

Blogging like wine tasting is a fallible undertaking. Remember that.

In any case, here's some information you can take at face value: Friuli-Venezia Giulia is an expansive region in northern Italy, and way back in January, Jack and Joanne hosted a vast array of helpful resources for both the beginner and the devotee. Check it out at Fork & Bottle.

Attems Cicinis Collio Bianco 2005

The name of the winery is Attems, the name of the cuvée is Cicinis, and the name of the appellation is Collio. Bianco, of course, means white.

Attems is run under the ownership of the giant wine producer Marchesi de Frescobaldi società agricola, based in Tuscany. For the estate of Conti Attems, the producers stray far from the typical terroir and output of Chianti. The Cicinis cuvée is a blend of Sauvignon Blanc, Tocai Friuliano, and Pinot Bianco. But its manufacture with heavy wood and an oxidative note may end up frustrating amateurs looking for a real sense of what Collio -- an official Italian D.O.C. designation -- is all about. It was priced immodestly at over $25 when I bought it.

Here's what I recorded for it.

Eyes: Deeply pigmented from a white wine.

Nose: Wet bandages and vanilla combining in a silky smooth way. Also notes of honeycomb.

Mouth: Caramelized on the palate. There are flowers but a strong oxidized note makes this wine very distinct. It seems a bit distilled.

Stomach: I think chocolate is your safest bet for this kind of wine because it resembles the booze in some desserts like icewine truffles or fruitcake. Otherwise pair it with a very rich and mouthfilling dinner and accept my best wishes for good luck.

Conti Attems, Lucinico, Gorizia, Italia. 13%.

WBW #43 Comfort Wines: Grenache blends like the Château de la Gardine 2004

2008-03-06T08:59:00.025-05:00

My first post of March is March's Wine Blogging Wednesday event -- WBW comes early in March! This one clearly snuck up on me, but I was not unprepared.

Thanks to Joel at Wine Life Today for getting me motivated to finally get some of my wine tasting notes up.

Joel's timing for March's event -- called "comfort wines" -- seems perfect. This week I've been popping corks on some very soul-sustaining, get-me-through-the-winter wines. March is usually severe and wintry during this year of La Nina. Comfort wines are exactly what I've been calling for lately, and likely will until some signs of spring arrive.

The definition of a comfort wine may be highly personal. Joel offers guidance as host, but in the most general definition I have in my mind, I would expect that people thinking of their favourite comfort wines would think of red wines that are somewhat rich and substantive -- a bottle that puts meat on your bones so you can settle in for a long winter's nap. When your hibernation's over you'll awake with fond memories of that nourishing and generous wine!

So to recap, my idea of a comfort wine is one this a) red, b) ripe and c) with potentially high extraction. Above all, it is d) not a wine that you would serve with a green salad. It should feature a strong flavour profile and admirable texture, though not necessarily supplied by heavy tannin. It should be lusty, savoury and long in the mouth.

In other words, it should be a classy cuvée that involves some Grenache grapes.

GRENACHE/GRANACHA IS COZY/COSY

Grenache, or Granacha in Spanish, is the go-to grape for Spain's D.O. Montsant red wines and France's A.O.C. Faugères red blends. I mention them because I sampled one of each this week.

Both the Mas Collet Montsant 2004 and the Les Premières Faugères 2005 satisfy a definition of "comfort wine" I subscribe to.

The Mas Collet brings in an attractive level of oak and Cabernet Sauvignon to the comforting affect this wine has. Overall though this is an exemplary Grenache blend after so-so recent vintages: the 2004 is far from flabby and it possesses a nice, if light structure, for all of $15. See this recent review from a Quebec wine critic and blogger Rémy Charest and click its bottle image above for its descriptive file and local availability.

Jean-Michel Alquier's Faugères, out of the Languedoc region of the Midi, is so beautifully balanced and long in mouth, it's simply remarkable this is an under $25 wine (it's only a shade above $20 not including the tax). It has such a lengthy finish that this is a wine that fully does taste $10 more than the Spaniard. I enjoyed it immensely, to the detriment of my better note-taking. Here instead are notes from a glowing 1855.com review (written in French), complete with a top score from the 1855 people, so much so that I bet they are effectively forgetting the Bordeaux touchstone of their namesake. Click on its bottle image above for more details.

As my grandmother used to say, it's nice to be able to live life comfortably. After grandpa got that job as a foreman steelworker, her idea of comfort was all about being able to spend the extra dollars to occasionally pamper yourself. Like with a $30+ bottle of wine. That's living comfortably!

LUXURIOUS COMFORT

And for some this comfort wine. It's got that Grenache goodness too.

With that in mind my first and foremost comfort wine is the Château de la Gardine Châteauneuf-du-Pape 2001. This is the wine I celebrated my promotion with last year. We're talking crazy candied orange peels in a classically-styled and hearty wine that approaches the depth and savoriness of vintage port wine. Or at least that is what I recall. (When drinking the best comfort wines, it's best not to talk notes.)

So I only have notes on the current vintage, the Château de la Gardine Châteauneuf-du-Pape 2004, which is less exciting (less comforting too). Still nice though. The 2005 version is already replacing previous stock; it is getting more favourable reviews. (In any case, I tasted the 2004 recently after seeing it discounted to under $30 and I think it was worth it at that kind of price.)

Eyes: Light fuschia with dull red brick tone to it.

Nose: Alcohol aroma overlying meaty and juicy notes. The meat is more charred than fatty. Mineral component too -- could be ash -- but as a non-smoker this is all a strangely alluring bouquet for me.

Mouth: Bright and rasping with creamy notes. Sports a sunniness to it -- there's enough acid to make it a good Grenache in my books. Baked berries with pits. Typical Midi really with its developing fruit. But it's also zesty in both texture and flavour, kind of like a root beer with influences of star anise and sweet spice supported by the savoury edge on the acid and a medium body. Long finish and nice tannins.

Stomach: This style of wine seems to become even more luscious at the dinner table because it's otherwise a young and upfront wine that can use a little time mellowing. Right now, this wine can be great with couscous and garlicky merguez sausage. It's like the best cherry cola you've ever had with dinner.

Some seriously smoking South African stuff: Boschendal "The Pavillion" Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon 2005

2008-02-27T09:33:00.029-05:00

This is for Alex, whom I am a fan of. Alex works at ArtJava downtown, my regular coffee stop.

Alex, last name St-Laurent, was trained by Anthony Benda, who is currently the third-ranked barista in the country (he placed as a runner-up in a strong debut performance at the Canadian Barista Championships last fall).

These are big shoes for Alex to fill no doubt, but with his keen aptitude no one doubts he could do it. One day at ArtJava, Alex surprised me with his interest in wine. He approached me for advice on how he could find and drink more of the red wines that he most enjoys. He already knew most of what he needed to know -- that he likes a style of red wine with a smoky flavour profile -- and he even knew that Syrah would be the varietal that would most likely offer him this.

All that was left for me to do was consult my back pages to see what's a good deal on wines like these and not be too far from a roughly $20 to $30 price range he set for himself.

It's practically do-it-yourself blogging. But Alex is a smart guy, so what do you expect?

Links to original reviews feature clickable images that navigate directly to the SAQ online catalog, where you can check the supply of the wine and which stores near you stock it.

Smoke-filled blueberry goodness ... actually greatness! (but run to get remaining bottles): Château Cabrières Coteaux du Languedoc (rouge) 2001 $21 (including all taxes)

A "Pastiche" of red fruit, but notable smokiness: Joseph Phelps Vin du Mistral Red Pastiche 2005 $18

A non-Syrah-based taste of smoke with a Pinot Noir varietal supplying greater acidity (LCBO only): Francis Coppola Diamond Collection Silver Label Pinot Noir 2005 $28

Smoky bargain of the 2004 vintage, and of recent releases too probably: Château Mire L'Étang Cuvée des Ducs de Fleury Coteaux du Languedoc La Clape 2004 $17

And last but definitely not least, Boschendal "The Pavillion" Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon Coastal Region 2005:

The paradigm of Syrah smoke from South Africa, done up with notes of petrol and wood that give it a blue cheese tone typical of many New World wines; but here it is exceptional for its smart balance, extraction of fruit and stunning texture: Boschendal "The Pavillion" Shiraz Cabernet Sauvignon Coastal Region 2005 (The bargain of the bunch at $16 -- but I have not yet tasted the 2006 vintage that is rapidly replacing the 2005s.)

Pniel Road, Groot Drakenstein, South Africa. 14%.

Update: I pointed to a picture of the Pavillion bottle (at top) which I found on the web after SAQ.com, who stocks it within the province, ran no image of it in their catalog. It's laziness of me for not taking a photo of the bottle myself. But it's sheer stupidity I didn't better explore the site that the picture came from.

That site is EWine.co.za -- not to be confused with EWineCentral.com -- and it is apparently more than a your typical online wine vendor. They house a lot of good content on the South African wineries and winemakers, including audio media, like the sound file of an interview with Boschendal vintner JC Bekker, all placed nicely on a a profile page devoted to Boschendal. Louis Ferreira, who runs the Ewine.co.za site, provides important insight and authority -- especially for anyone like me who really has little exposure to the breadth of today South African wines.

Out of the blue, two whites sitting in the red: Argyros 2005 and Rocca Delle Macie 2006

2008-02-22T07:45:00.021-05:00

Buried under two months' worth of unopened bills I find some old scribbled notes on the two white wines shown above. (Don't you hate it when that happens!) In any case, neither one should actually put your bookkeeping in the red -- they're both fine values on some exotic, nay, ancient wines from deep down in parts of the Old World that you are not likely exposed to everyday.

The Greek bottle (Argyros) outshone the Italian (Rocca Delle Macie) in virtually every way. But the two bottles were more similar they I had expected they'd be. And personally I found them both to be quite pleasant wines that you could sip with practically any summer dinner you might have in mind.

Argyros Estate Santorini 2005

Eyes: This is a pale straw colour, faintly hued yet more pigmented than the Tuscan Vernaccia.

Nose: A lovely mix of minerality and lightly perfumed flowers emanate from this wine. A twist of banana is thrown in there too but it's slight as I am sensitive to too much of it, if anyone is.

Mouth: Nice acid and quite dry. Fruit mostly limited to citrus tones. I am surprised because before this was poured I thought it would be similar to a fat Southern Rhône. Like on the nose, on the palate this wine proves to be a more aromatic grape blend, with cleaner lines than say Roussanne, Marsanne, Viognier and Grenache Blanc. In fact, these Greek grapes -- Asyrtiko, Aidáni Aspro and Athíri -- combine to make a delightfully deft and refreshing aperitif type wine. Some wood noted, pleasing.

Stomach: A hit with Joe's cheese pretzel bites.

J. M. Argyros, Episkopi, Santorini, Ellas (Greece). 13%.

Rocca Delle Macie Vernaccia di San Gimignano 2006

Eyes: Very light, almost white and totally transparent.

Nose: Musky notes. Sweetish aromas. Not complex.

Mouth: A bitter acidity punctuates this wine. It is rasping and offers just the kind of sincerity I look for in an aperitif wine. Yet it is not as successful as the previous bottle. It is too simple to present any real interest you could linger over. A fuller nutty character on the finish and little more complexity would put it on par with other better Vernaccias I have tried recently.

Stomach: This is not the best Vernaccia I have tasted but try it with mixed nuts to lure out the nutty flavours that are bit too suppressed in this vintage.

Castellina in Chianti, Italia. 12.5%.

Yes indeed, this white wine head-to-head was conducted at Joe's place of Joe's Wine fame, way back in January. It was just the opening bout of an evening card that featured the heavyweights you see at his post titled: Bordeaux-Inspired Wines.

Joe and his family were great hosts that night and served up an amazing raclette dinner for the tasting of reds. A raclette machine is like a personal Hibachi in front of your place setting but better! I was so into the proceedings that I let my pen and paper sit inactively beside me while I seared steak, melted cheese and crisped ham with the raclette, all while sipping a selection of three substantial wines. Thankfully, Joe was more mindful of the task at hand and has already written up his notes on them. They were reds that sported Bordelais grapes without the accompanying Bordeaux appellation.

They were from Tuscany, Friuli, and British Columbia: The 2000 Ghiaie Della Furba, the 2001 Dorigo Montsclapade, and the 2002 Osoyoos Larose. Check them out at the link above and thanks to Joe for hosting!

WBW #42 Just Seven Words: Marchesi Alfieri La Tota 2005

2008-02-13T23:43:00.012-05:00

"Better than 2004's -- now I taste oak!"

San Martino, Alfieri, Italia. 13.5% <-- half a percent less alcohol than the 2004.

(Thanks to Andrew at Spittoon for this great great idea. I haven't participated in the last few events for WBW and hadn't really planned on contributing -- until I realized this could be my shortest post of all time and a little brevity always has its place . . . except in War and Peace.)

Don't get hit with cupid's arrow at Perfect Pairs Valentine's Day sale across Quebec

2008-02-12T13:22:00.002-05:00

Because in Montreal this week, he's aiming for your pocket, not your wine-loving heart

Thinking about uncorking a Roederer Anderson Valley Brut mousseux this week? Think about this: The sale of American wines in Quebec are at prices that have silently snuck back up to earlier almost prohibitive amounts. And this is barely six months after all the hoopla about sticker prices being lowered to reflect the strong Canadian dollar.

Once upon a time, this $20 bottle of California sparkling wine was sold at $27.10 in Quebec. Then in 2007, the SAQ, Quebec's state-run agency controlling the sale of wine and spirits, moderated the price at $25.95, and by late spring 2007, many media organizations trumpeted the new advantageously set prices coming into affect in June and July. So by Fall 2007, when the Roederer site started indicating that the Anderson Valley Brut NV would sale for $22 US, it was down to $24.70 CDN in Quebec. Combine that with a general sales tax reduction that the Canadian Conservative government announced to ring in 2008, and presto! the SAQ was selling this bottle for an all time low of $24.45.

And to think it was three bucks more only a year earlier. But wait. Earlier this month, the prices were silently raised on this product. It's all the way back up to $25.95. Almost all price decreases have been erased. What happened?

Mum's the word, apparently. I asked an otherwise-informative agent at an SAQ shop why prices are going back up. She did not know, but she was aware that they had been raised a few days ago. She couldn't say why the prices went back up when the Canadian loonie has regained parity with the American dollar and when it took so bloody long to lower prices in the first place.

The bigger question is what happened to the tax cut since Quebec buyers, one month into their GST reduction are already losing their 25 cents.

Shoppers need to beware because the price hikes are coinciding with a large Valentine's Day sale (how crafty!). You'll see signage on SAQ shelves announcing "$1.50 off!" but they are mostly false. Those signs were printed before the prices went up. In many cases, this means you are buying a sale item that is in all actuality marked down by only pennies once you get to the cash.

BAD SALE STICKERS FOR VALENTINES' DAY AT THE SAQ

Since SAQ.com does not reveal price fluctuations over time, only those in the know will tell you what's what. To track the price hikes, I thought Doktor Weingolb should let you in on a few via this cheat sheet.

Finca Flichman Malbec $7.90 > $8.20

Herdade das Albernoas Alentejano $9.30 > $9.75

Duque de Viseu Dao $14.95 ($12.65 in at the LCBO in Ontario) > $14.80

Sauvignon Blanc Domaine Guy Allion Touraine $13 > $14.35

Furmint Tokaji Château Pajzos $12.80 > $13.05

Cabernet-sauvignon Kenwood Yulupa Sonoma $16.40 > $17.15

Château Calabre Montravel $13.05 > $13.80

St-Jean-de-Gineste Corbières $14.95 > $15.80

Domaine de Cantarelles Costières de Nîmes $10.35 > $10.90

Not my favourite, but perhaps the perfect wine for you: Domaine de Ribonnet Clément Ader 2001

2008-02-06T23:52:00.000-05:00

No substituting a Gamay for a Malbec in today's post -- although I will say I'm going to pretty much offer a bonafide endorsement as this bottle was darned close to making it into my fave top five last year.

I thought I was the owner of all remaining bottles in Montreal back in November. And I think I was until the SAQ went and restocked the warehouse with more. Now there's enough for everyone who reads this website. Which is a good thing. Plus, not only is it back on shelves, it's still appearing as the great 2001 vintage (click on the label image for vendor product info). And because it's a typical Bordeaux blend, this wine is just starting to show off its stuff.

HATING BORDEAUX

But you know, I guess I put all these things it had going for it aside. Because in the end -- after all the bottle hunting, schlepping them home and the copious note-taking -- I didn't think this was among my personal favourite wines. I'm down to two bottles of it and I'm not even planning on getting more of the new stock that's been released. Why? Maybe Eric Asimov's current discussion at The Pour on why people increasingly "hate" Bordeaux (or Cabernet-based wines that approximate Bordeaux) has something to do with it.

(For the record, to "hate" Bordeaux is to value taste over judgment, which, for so many reasons, is fine in wine criticism as long as you know you're doing it... Lyle Fass seems to be aware of this and I think Eric Asimov is too.)

Without further ado, here's what to hate:

This is a classically styled wine blending the big Bordeaux grapes -- 40% Cabernet Sauvignon, 30% Merlot and 30% Cabernet Franc -- so no dangerous change-up from blackened Cahors to light-bodied Beaujolais on tap here.

It's actually classic Bordeaux grapes in the form of a vin de pays or French country wine. The vdp region is Comté Tolosan, which lays outside the doorstep of the Gironde, nestled in the Pyrenees that approach the Midi of the South of France. The location means it can only ask for a fraction of what you'd expect to pay: $18.75, or a total of exactly $225 for a case.

So this, folks, is where your bargain wine is at.

Domaine de Ribonnet Clément Ader Vin de pays du Comté Tolosan 2001 (Note: Clément Ader is not a winemaker, but rather a French aviator to whom this cuvée is dedicated.)

Eyes: Deep purple with dulled edges.

Nose: Rich red fruits, grenadine and lots of berries, stewing, with hints of licorice and leather and maybe animal, and over time, a crystal clear impression of muddled strawberries with white pepper. Yummy.

Mouth: Decanted for about two hours to open it up, the Ribonnet Clément Ader possesses dusty tannins and a gauzy minerality. It works against the fruit at first pour but after three hours in a carafe, the earthiness begins to balance fruitiness. After longer than that black fruit and licorice start to dominate the flavour profile. A solid wine that combines both the austerity of a fine Bordeaux and the sunniness of a Midi wine.

Stomach: Wraps itself around food quite well at this point. It leans on it and perhaps needs it when first opened, a half-dozen years into its life (with at least another half dozen to go).

Christian Gerber, Beaumont, Lèze, France. 13%. Certified organic wine.

When good advice goes bad

2008-02-04T21:42:00.000-05:00

Or, why do some recommendations make a great wine go sour? Plus other wine criticism that leaves a bad taste in your mouth . . .

In January, a lean month with only three posts and no tasting notes at all, I received one piece of fanmail. With fanmail like this you don't need hatemail.

"After trying the two Cahors that you recommended on your blog, I thought that perhaps my enjoyment of wine had left me."

Cahors, which I wrote about last December, is sometimes known as the black wine. I didn't mention that at the time. Black mark!

Futhermore, when I had correspondence with the writer above, I realized that he happens to be really fond of Beaujolais and Canadian Gamays, but is adventurous enough to try out new wine regions. Again here I should have better prepared him for the dramatic change my advice carried. My bad.

Could I have really turned someone off wine entirely by making the suggestion I did? Could I actually be encouraging the disenjoyment of wine?

I guess I should've known not to go recommending Cahors to just anyone, though I think a lot of these South American bargain wine aficionados could make the switch easily if they adhere to a simple commitment to drink less vanilla-ed oak. But still I have learned an important lesson about foisting new wines on people.

I haven't given up on wine myself -- far from it. Of course, I'm still into exploring it, noting it and sharing great bottles with like-minded friends. But I think I might take step back from making recommendations on it. At least for a while. I have a bunch of notes from the last couple of months; I expect I'll eventually get to them sometime. But I might be putting them out differently or on a different schedule.

In the meantime, everything about this blog is soaking up most of my time.

Brightness Falls From the Air

2008-01-23T13:38:00.000-05:00

John Drew Munro's latest exhibition of works has its vernissage tonight at the Gésu, at 1200 rue de Bleury (514-861-4378) in Montreal.

If you ever admired the images of circles and dots you see as you scroll down the entries on my blog, you have been quietly paying tribute to the work of John Drew Munro. Over two years ago, I asked John if on these web pages I could upload and display his art (which in my mind is somehow so suggestive of the analysis of wine) and then redirect visitors to more information about him and his work by hyperlinking to it. He said yes. As a result, clicking on any of his images you see here will eventually lead you to details about his last exhibition, which was in Westmount in 2005.

But now, I am more than happy to point to his recent works. The image above is from his new series of encaustic paintings entitled Brightness Falls From the Air. It seems to maintain his emphasis on pattern-based abstraction and the fascinating reductive techniques he uses to practically carve reliefs from his canvasses.

But other people can probably describe better it than me -- I just want to make sure I check it out in person, sometime before April 16, when the exhibits are taken down. (But why risk missing it by waiting that long when you could meet the artist by attending the unveiling tonight?)

The works in this exhibition are the culmination of 18 months of productive labour, concerned with the manipulation of a few elements… dots, circles and lines. It is not the elements in their singularity that piqued my interest; but rather the systematic repetition and the production of constellations and their association with both science and nature. I would hope that my paintings are an intimate dialogue concerned with the transference of visual sensations. The manipulation of the elements can be used in myriad ways. It is my intent to deploy a range and distribute each motif according to my response to each particular work in progress…

I paint with encaustic (a mixture of beeswax, pigment and resin): it dries very quickly, and therefore must be worked in an expeditious manner. It is quite difficult but holds rewards inherent in its qualities such as luminosity and transparency. Depth can be achieved through layering. The paint is not brushed on; instead it is poured over the surface and the markings are incised with small tools and later filled and scraped back. The layers and markings can be numerous or few… this is dependent on the needs of the individual work… colours are minimal in order to empower the work through limitation.

The title was appropriated from James Joyce's novel "Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man." It is his descriptive power that so enticed me… and stimulated the development of this work.

- John Drew Munro

Two Buck Chuck has nothing to worry about: Reports not fit for wine blogosphere

2008-01-15T12:14:00.000-05:00

You heard it here first. But it may already be too late.

Be warned the press releases that come from yet another scientific study involving wine on humans. Here's how AP phrased it when they first filed the news brief on this recent American study now making the rounds: "Apparently, raising the price really does make the wine taste better."

Actually the point of this study is that it really DOESN'T, but that there are reasons why it would appear to happen.

More importantly: "Raising the price does make the wine taste better." Taste better? To whom?

I'll tell you who. Volunteers who didn't pay for the wine, that's who. Surely this is not a real-world scenario. Had the money required to pay for these wines come out of their own pockets, I think the folks tasting would've reacted differently. Perhaps a little more skeptical and contemplative when the chips are down. That's just my theory.

Science being science, this kind of study demands random "volunteers" so winos with wallets were not invited. Now, I ask you, what about the world of enjoying fine wine is based on volunteering? Nothing. That's because most people work for their wine. And that's why this experiment and any like it are limited in how they depict the truths in wine consumption -- Two Buck Chuck has nothing to worry about.

Statements circulating in the press like "while many studies have looked at how marketing affects behavior, this is the first to show that it has a direct effect on the brain" mischaracterizes what's going on. There's no buying behaviour in this experiment, so how can marketing actually be involved?

Shouldn't the statement have been (which I might add merits some credit to the scientists, who are Antonio Rangel and his colleagues at the California Institute of Technology): "While many studies have looked at how marketing affects PERCEPTION OF PLEASURE, this is the first to show that it has a direct effect on the brain."

My point is that perception of pleasure and behaviour are obviously not the same thing. In fact, the disconnect between perception of pleasure and behaviour is a big deal for me, and, I think, anyone else who wants to live in a civilized society.

But wait. It gets even worse than that. The copy used in reports of the study suggests that volunteers selected their preferences based on results shown by the MRI scanner hooked up to their brain.

We've left the real world of wine blogging entirely. Since when is looking at brain scans useful in relaying information about wine? Maybe once or twice on Chateau Petrogasm but that's a site whose usefulness I question on a daily basis.

What I say: Of course the anticipation of drinking expensive wine is going to affect my body in different way than the anticipation of drinking plonk-priced wine. Is that the scoop we are being fed by the press -- as if it is some wine marketing revelation?

I think the press should stop selling this study to winos and wine marketers. It's merely a test on brain functions. This seems obvious to me now, but it didn't at first when the story came out. So since you're here, I'll explain what I have made sense of.

The study sets up a bogus taste test by placing wines of different prices in front of tasters. But some wine samples are identical and marked with a different price tags (there were three separate wines: a $90 Cabernet correctly listed and then listed at $10; a $45 Cab correctly listed and listed at $5; and a $35 Cab correctly listed). MRI "pleasure" activity and participant wine selections are consistent, which is I guess why the study is being called a clear success. But the hoo-ha in the news is being generated by the fact that the big pricetag wines are the ones being favoured.

Everyone comes back two weeks later to repeat the experiment using the same wines but without the prices marked. It's unclear in the press reports what happened here (Were there five or three samples? Were they hooked up to MRIs again?) but what incredible results emerge this time!

"They liked the wines originally marked $5 and $45 best," says one report. But the $5 and $45 samples were actually taken from a single solitary wine -- a five-dollar bottle. (Now that's something interesting to wine marketers!) So if and when participants' brain activity is allowed to be filtered into real-life actions and words (instead of being prematurely stopped in the lab), are pricetags really affecting their ability to identify good wine? In other words, is this experiment proving that humans evaluate quality based on cost? I say no.

Not even. What I might say however, is that this experiment demonstrates that pricetags affect one's ability to identify equality, i.e. identify that the wines marked with different pricetags were actually the same wine. Which is a whole different ballgame, and I think one which has already been played. (I play it all the time, sampling a little bit of wine from my usual glass and a little bit from one those Eisch breathable glasses, which claim to make the wine taste different... but I can't tell.)

The real intrigue here lie in the brain scans, which I'll leave to BlogMD, despite the name of this blog.

New sensations for '08: Dinner wine marketed as a doppelganger to dinner music

2008-01-09T08:20:00.001-05:00

I noticed this news story announcing a new line of American wine because I was posting on the Top Ten tracks of 2007, not because of my Annual Best Of wine list. But I guess that's exactly the syngergy that the marketer wanted for these Merlots and Cabernets named after country singer Miranda Lambert's hit songs: Rockers, for the first time, start hunting down that particular must-have cuvée, and the winebloggers turn to give Ms. Lambert a listen for insight into what makes a wine a wine.

Read the press release, with the great hook "How about a sip of Kerosene?"

It doesn't seem like anything new and the Miranda Lambert website features the typical marketing writing that bridges winemaking and songwriting.

A good deal of time went into developing this private wine label for Miranda Lambert. The reason is simple: We believe in families working hard together and celebrating success together when it finally comes. Just like wine, in the music industry, there are no overnight sensations. Many years of hard work go into the product that the public ultimately experiences. For that reason we have partnered with the family of the LouViney Vineyards to bottle a wine worthy to put Miranda’s name on. This family owned vineyard exemplifies the very values that we honor. With each of the six wines we offer on Miranda’s private label, we trust you will taste and experience the time, effort and love that goes into every bottle. It is also our hope that you will experience the great pride that comes from working hard and celebrating success together in your own family. Thank you for enjoying a bit of ours with us.

Miranda Lambert Texas Table Wine "Red 55" Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot

Wineries have found Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot blends are star performers, and perhaps that’s why our friends and family selected this wine as the front-runner in our inaugural tasting. Named after Miranda’s prized first pickup, a candy apple red 1955 Chevy step-side, this beautiful cherry-colored wine is smooth and medium bodied with a mellow berry aroma. This slightly juicy blend dodges over-oaking. Just like Miranda’s vintage ‘55, our Red 55 is sure to be a classic. Pair this best-all-around wine with almost any kind of food, from fancy fare dinners to picnics and BBQs.

And if after all that you're wondering what my "top tracks" of 2007, I've posted them to my other, mostly defunct blog. Unlike the wines on Weingolb, I posted these tracks not having finished my notes for a proper review of them, but should modern rock and music criticism be your bag, stay un-tuned, as they say.

A map of who makes my favourite wines of the year

2007-12-31T23:59:00.000-05:00

From left to right (click to enlarge):
Croft, Quinta da Roêda, Cimo Corgo, Porto E Douro, Portugal.
Domaine de l'Écu, La Bretonnière, Le Landreau, Loire-Atlantique, France.
Château Grinou, Monestier, Dordogne, France.
Clos du Tue-Boeuf, Les Montils, Loir-et-Cher, France.
Planeta, Menfi, Sicilia, Italia.

Recap of the best wines in 2007 that I reviewed:
In February, I drank Quinta da Roêda Vintage Port 1997.
In October, I drank Expression de Granite Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine 2005.
In November, I drank Clos du Tue-Boeuf 2006.
Throughout autumn, I drank Grinou Réserve Rouge 2005.
Over the last 12 months, I drank La Sagreta Rosso 2005 & 2006.

Croft makes my favourite wine of the year

2007-12-31T19:51:00.000-05:00

Croft Quinta da Roêda Vintage Port 1997 (about $20, per service)

Don't hate me for mentioning port in my year-end look back at the favourite wines I've drunk. Port is wine -- fortified wine -- or wine fortified by the addition of grape brandy. Brandy is a spirit. It's distilled which is where some people like to draw the line between wine and all other alcoholic beverages. Wine is fermented, hence it is alive. Tipple is distilled and therefore it lacks soul.

But port, or port wine, is still mainly wine -- basically 4/5 fermented grapes. That one-fifth brandy actually is created from distilling other wine. So though port is a small part distilled spirit, all of port's "spirit," so to speak, is wine, through and through.

Here's something else of interest: Who knew that the Portuguese have a definition for Canada, one that likely predates Canada the country? In Portuguese, Canada is a measure used in making port wine. It's "the amount a man should drink everyday [which is the equivalent of] 2 liters" (note the non-Canadian spelling of litres). I got this information from the Croft website glossary. I hope they're talking about drinking water here, because 2 litres a day of port wine or even the most watered-down wine sounds deadly. I have no idea how using this measure actually helps in the production of port wine.

Speaking of appropriate portions, since port is fortified wine it is best delivered in small amounts, definitely in smaller amounts than wine. Higher alcohol, greater concentration and denser viscosity all work to limit your intake of port in one sitting. So it's no wonder port can cost three or four times that of a fine table wine. A single bottle of port will often last over three or four dinners in the average two-person household. Where the 750mL bottle of table wine is something I'd consider "one service" (i.e. it is entirely served during the meal at a dinner for two), the exact same size bottle of port is what I'd call three or four services (i.e. it is not entirely served during a dinner for two; it would have additional services left in it).

Using this principle, I'm squeezing an $85 bottle of port by my spend-about-$20 rule. This is cheating perhaps. But the important thing is that this stuff happened to be some the best wine I drank all year, no question. This says more about my burgeoning interest in port than it might about the quality of this Croft bottle versus others -- I would have a hard time ranking this as today's best port since my background is so limited. But if I'm honest, the best vintage port I drank in 2007 was the only vintage port I tasted, and it was definitely amazing stuff. I would recommend this bottle to any wino.

MY TASTING NOTES ON PORT WINE

This port is from a vintage ten years ago at Quinta da Roêda, a vineyard that has long been recognized as one of the great port vineyards of the Douro Valley. Of Roêda, nineteenth century poet Vega Cabral is to have said: "If the wine district were a golden ring, Roêda would be the diamond." Croft's Quinta da Roêda is not produced every year -- vintage port never is. It comes out only after exceptional years. But unlike other ports Croft's Quinta da Roêda is made from grapes of a single vineyard, rather than mixed with grapes from several vineyards. (The best port, quite opposite to the best wine, is drawn from grapes of multiple vineyards -- so as to gather the very best grapes of the vintage... hmmm! Terroir is not port wine idea.)

Croft's Quinta da Roêda tastes like the finest wine I can imagine, concentrated into something stronger while still retaining the balance of the wine it was made from. It's as savoury as it is sweet. You taste it for hours after you've swallowed it. It's out of this world.

That's the best tasting note I can give on it at this stage of my wino life. Perhaps I'll develop a tasting note template for port that alters the existing one I use for regular table wine. I think I would at the very least need to eliminate the food pairings from the note since port, while nice with chocolate or rich cheeses, generally is not something around which you'd base your food, no less your meals. It's a few sips to be relished, and the astounding length of it helps prolong your (single) glass of it anyway.

I got a great deal on this bottle and gave it as a birthday gift to a friend who was celebrating a birthday early in the year. Soon after that, I was treated to a taste, which meant it was opened only as it was starting to peak (vintage ports need a minimum of ten to 15 years before consuming. That generalization surprised me slightly when I took a sip. I can't fathom that it would possibly get any better than what I had tasted, but then I'm newbie (for now) when it comes to port wine.

Domaine de l'Écu makes my favourite wine of the year

2007-12-30T18:38:00.000-05:00

Expression de Granite Muscadet-Sevre et Maine 2005 (about $19)

With a tip of his hat to the soil that the Melon de Bourgogne vines sit upon, Guy Brossard at Domaine de l'Écu creates a memorable Muscadet in more ways than one.

He makes an organic, biodynamic, terroir-driven wine from the Nantais region of France and it's terrific. He produces a touchstone for the zesty, minerally and briny style of modern Muscadet, the definitive wine where the Loire abuts the Altantic Ocean. And you could literally say this wine has touched stone -- it is after all named after the granite under the vines -- and when you taste it, it still seems like it's reaching out and bringing you that wonderful stoniness and minerality.

That's not why I think it is a wine of the year however. On top of being the epitome of great Muscadet, in 2005 this cuvée goes great lengths to integrate remarkably luscious fruit flavours into a perfectly balanced white wine that promises ageing potential. And it does all this at under $20.

At the place I bought my bottles of the Expression de Granite -- the SAQ -- the total per bottle came to $19.55. That was in October. Prices have gone down markedly since then, but so have SAQ stocks. In fact, the SAQ catalogue no longer even lists this item. Click on the bottle image above to go to The Wine Doctor's resourceful reference page, which includes tool to find stockists that carry this wine. (I see that this is another Doctor who has just posted notes on this wine in December.)

Many places should still carry the 2005 Expression de Granite outside of Quebec (along with the Planeta this might be the most widely distributed bottle in my top five). American merchants will likely sell it at pricepoints down to $15. Grab them! Or tell me where I can get more for myself, please. As always seems to be the case, the fab 05 vintage is being ever-rapidly replaced with the subsequent vintages.

This is a truly amazing wine, and likely the cuvée I am most confident proclaiming the "best" that's out there.

Eyes: Light and transparent.

Nose: This struck me as typical. Citrus fruit, subtly rasping aromas, mineral and slightly floral, maybe anise.

Mouth: In the mouth, the distinction of this wine is revealed. Very saline at front palate, enticing weight and personality through the mid-palate, and fine length echoing strongly a level of fruit not often seen in a Muscadet. A tremendous expression! It is masterful how a firm and briny attack relinquishes to strong and fruity finish -- no Muscadet I've known has a such an amazing arc going from saline to citrus as this one does.

Stomach: Great on its own as a classy aperatif. But because this wine is so much more dynamic than the usual Muscadet, don't limit food pairings to oysters. I think it makes me light up so much because it carries tones of licorice and anisette. So any dish relying on a fennel bulb would be a perfect match. Equally as good would be savoury salads featuring orange sections to echo the lovely citrus notes. Ultimately the admirable acid suggests its versatility. I would like to try this with fresh fish in a herb sauce with lime, savoy cabbage coleslaw, zesty garnishes with capers and shallots, and so much more.

Clos du Tue-Bœuf makes my favourite wine of the year

2007-12-29T23:50:00.000-05:00

Clos du Tue-Bœuf Rouge Cheverny 2006 (about $15)

In any previous year, Portuguese red blends -- frequently strong values -- would be in my list of favourites. Last year, the Casa de Santar Dão 2003 was one of my go-to everyday wines, for instance.

This year, I have found similar strong value, and a familiar rusticity, flavour profile and food-friendliness, in a Cheverny red blend, the generic cuvée from Clos du Tue-Bœuf (of France's Puzelat fame).

Cheverny is a French AOC in the Loire Valley and it is more associated with white wines than red. I would hardly expect it to suggest to me my favourite Portuguese bottles. But it did.

It's even stranger that the grapes blended together to do this are Gamay and Pinot Noir -- not exactly kin to the indigenous grapes of Portugal, or their reputation for yielding heavy and tannic wine.

This entry-level Tue-Boeuf was introduced to me by BrooklynGuy back in August. At that time, I was the first of thirteen people to comment on his report, salivating over what sounded like my ideal find -- what he titled "The Finest Value Red of the Season". Having just arrived back from a New York vacation days earlier (during which time I got to experiment with some inexpensive unfiltered Beaujolais that was Bguy-approved and meet the man himself), I commented that I could only hope to return sometime in the fall to hunt down this fetching cow-killer of a cuvée.

Months pass, and it's late November. I'm in Brooklyn. By all accounts this wine is out of stock (but I had all but entirely forgotten about it anyway). Sure enough, along comes Brooklynguy to meet me at a Seventh Avenue wineshop in Park Slope called Prospect Wines and he's carrying with him his last bottle of Tue-Boeuf and he proceeds to serve it me at BYO down the block. What a guy. That this wine turned out to be every bit as good as he had described was just the icing on the cake. This was one of the best wine experiences of recent memory -- and surely one of my favourite pours of the year too.

This wine is definitely unavailable in Brooklyn (or else I would've retrieved it), and as I mentioned, I couldn't get it in Canada. So suffice to say good luck to you tracking some down.

For the tasting notes on this one I leave you in the capable hands of Brooklynguy, who wrote about this bottle from summer into fall on CellarTracker in 2007. Here's how I cut and paste his observations together. (Thanks again Brooklynguy!)

Eyes: Light but deep, ripe and earthy (hmmm... I think this is referring to palate rather than appearance).

Nose: Lovely Pinot Noir nose of griottes, clean aromas of dark red berries and once open for about 10 minutes, vivid floral aromas -- dark violet.

Mouth: Pure, juicy, sweet and luscious, this is a bowl of black cherries on the palate, with pleasant earthiness and lip-smacking acidity. Smooth, although slightly grainy texture, and floral. Delicious. Low alcohol.

Stomach: Fantastic inexpensive Pinot/Gamay blend incredible how delicious this wine is (especially when you're eating -- we had it with hummus and fresh Middle-Eastern bread, bean stew, grilled lamb, and salad). When you think that it costs about $13 it becomes ridiculous.

Château Grinou makes my favourite wine of the year

2007-12-28T23:48:00.000-05:00

Grinou Réserve Rouge Bergerac 2005 (about $16)

A common theme on this annual best of list is catching the 2005s before they are replaced by the 2006s. Since 2005 was such a remarkable vintage in so many places it's not surprising to see this. But most of the acclaim for the harvest of 2005 is usually not placed on wines that are this cheap, and this good-drinking this early in their lifespan.

Here we have a young wine that seems too good to be true -- with already a firm grip and a youthful embrace it seems to know no growing pains. It's outlook is positive. It promises to only improve, which is to go from great to even better.

That what's doubly incredible about the 2005 Grinou Réserve. This lusty Merlot varietal from Bergerac, a region just outside of Bordeaux, is a keeper. Winemakers Catherine and Guy Cuisset give this cuvée a full ten years of prime drinking time, so it's peak time may not yet have arrived. Buy up cases while you can.

If that sentiment sounds familiar it's because it was first uttered by Joe of Joe's Wine back in September. At that time, he gave this bargain an admirable score among heavier hitters. I'll be monitoring that score as it likely will go up when Joe revisits it in years to come. Thanks
Joe for sounding the alarm on this one.

Meanwhile, who will be the first to report back here on the 2006 Réserve? Michel Phaneuf gave it a similarly strong review in his 2008 guidebook but he leaves out any promise of future development that somehow the 2005 managed at under $16.

Eyes: The colour is a richly-hued purple.

Nose: Had a few problems with cork taint in opening about a half-dozen of these over the course of the year and the nose can be a bit funny -- is it sour cherry? -- it suggests something mineral but at first it's quite funky as well.

Mouth: Incredibly smooth on the palate, greeting you with intense, mouth-filling spicy oak and fruit of great depth. Mid-palate turns towards earthy tones and licorice. Finish is very long and lovely lengthy plummy note etched with a slight rasp of acidity that just leaves you wanting another taste. To me, this nears perfection. A well-crafted wine, with totally integrated wood. When I dissect it, it comes across like a textbook example. And it's $16! Why? Because the B is for Bergerac, not Bordeaux.

Stomach: With the rustic cuisine I tend to make, this wine is put somewhat into misuse. I had a heavy lamb pot pie full of butter and hot spice. The wine's body, which was medium, became even less present. Spicy food is not good for it. The black fruit came through less than the minerality, making it stricter than it needed to be.

Planeta makes my favourite wine of the year

2007-12-27T11:33:00.000-05:00

La Segreta Rosso IGT Sicilia 2005 (about $16) & La Segreta Rosso IGT Sicilia 2006 (about $16)

It was late last year that I tasted this 2005 blend of Nero D'Avola, Syrah and Merlot from Sicily. It was bold and unusual, not what I typically expect from Italian wines in the price range, namely expressions of light to medium body with some tart damson plum or zingy black cherry.

There weren't much of those. Or at the very least, you could've said the Syrah packaging aligned the fruit flavours of the Nero D'Avola and the Merlot with newer world traditions: cedar, spice box, lovely roasted notes, substantial body. It was perhaps too young to drink in 2006.

Fast forward to the end of the 2007. It was November and great praise met the release of the 2006 Segreta reds. Swayed by the positive reviews, my friends and I went out to buy and taste it. Somehow we ended up with a bottle of the 2005 back in front of us. We didn't know it at the time we opened it up.

We didn't know it, except immediately I felt I couldn't be drinking wine that was less than a year old. Sure enough, this was the older vintage. Although bright and charming, there was a mellowness and fine integration to it. I wasn't taking notes at the time, but it didn't matter. It was one of those tasting moments where all the elements come rushing together perfectly -- jotting down individual components of the wine as they come to you doesn't apply when a wine is this whole, with this much integrity.

Many critics underline how tones of mocha and raspberries envelope one another within the beautifully tannic arc of the 2005. I'd go along with that. But it'd be a cop-out not to provide my own notes on a wine I'm proclaiming a wine of the year. Problem is that there is no more 2005 left where I am and all I can do is retell the story of not paying enough attention to wine labels and the happy mistake it created.

A TWO-IN-ONE ENTRY IN MY FAVE TOP FIVE

So this post for one of my five favourite wines of the year is actually for two different wines. The Planeta Segreta Rosso 2005 -- the wine that moved me -- and the the Segreta Rosso 2006 -- my great "red" hope for drinking in the new year. (Click on the first "drink now" bottle image above for 2005 availability in Ontario -- click on the second "lay down" bottle image for 2006, which is what the SAQ is currently stocking across Quebec.)

So meet the 2006 red Segreta... It's not the same wine as the 2005 by any means -- it adds Cabernet Franc into the mix -- but if anything, its critical acclaim has only grown from last year's reaction. For more technical details and press, see the Planeta website, which is making me want to visit all corners of Sicily with every mouse click. With any luck, in about ten months' time the 2006 will integrate as amazingly as the 2005 has done (isn't it interesting that the release date for the 2005 Segreta was only in August -- about a year later than its release in Quebec and perhaps much more timely). Without a doubt, I know I can look forward to 2007's edition to be bottled and shipped out soon from this island off the tip of the Italian boot.

(While I admitted to not having notes for the 2005 other than a fallible memory, my notes for the 2006 are very much hot off the press, and I might add, rather hastily arranged from a BYOW dinner at a small, noisy, and dimly-lit resto, just moments ago.)

Eyes: Brickish red, but with intense hues and quite opaque.

Nose: Earth, thyme, hints of cooked fruit? Developing...

Mouth: Savoury attack, with stewed vegetables and ripe tomato, grippy but with a silky texture and somewhat woody.

Stomach: Garden fare done Italian-style, hearty pasta with sausages, bold herbs, anything oven-roasted.

At the end of 2007, tracking down the best wine I've had all year

2007-12-26T23:58:00.000-05:00

Arriving home from holidays spent with my family in Ontario late on Boxing Day, I have wine on my mind and lists at my fingertips.

This time of year is particularly good for amassing long wish lists. Wines you'd like to buy yourself, wines you'd like to store into the new year to share with others. The timing is particularly good for me. That's because, for a change, I'm perusing the aisles in the Ontario Liquor Board's Vintages. Or being generous and not following a budget to more freely make wine purchases.

I also equate this time of year with an opportunity for me to enjoy wine at lunch and at dinner (as my grandfather pointedly made known to all my relatives gathered around the Christmas dinner table -- I'm still not sure if his comments were a pat on the back for my resilience and earnest enthusiasm or the start of a future intervention).

THE ANNUAL BEST OF LIST . . .

My Annual Best of List for the last 12 months will be appearing here over the next five days. I won't have one single favourite as I did in 2005 and 2006, when I selected one top wine. This time, I'll be singling out a handful. They are all wines that I haven't yet posted any reviews for here, mostly because I was saving my notes until the end of the year to anoint my number one drink-it-everyday, anyway-you-like-it wine.

The gauge is drinkability plus affordability: Charming, masterful wines that are ready to drink now and come in at around $20 or less (even in Canadian dollars and including a hefty Quebec tax -- so these will not break any banks). Hmmm... Shall I offer some examples of what I am talking about?

WANNABE CHIANTI

One wine you won't see on my list but clearly could have is the Poggio alla Badiola IGT Toscana 2005 from the vaunted Mazzei house. You also won't see it in Ontario's LCBO flagship store at Yonge and Queen's Quay, as I was there and looked hard, hoping to find just one bottle of the four cases that was indicated on the LCBO website. They must've been scooped up fast because this baby is a special "Give me all 48!" bargain. Wannabe Chianti? Why not.

As of today, I've only briefly tasted this wine after picking it up at the SAQ. I desperately want to search out more for proper note-taking but already I'd easily make this bottle a top runner-up for the year or an honourable mention or whatever it is that makes people sit up and take notice. It could be the greatest Italian wine value that's out there. And since well-made Italian wines are not usually cheap, especially in Quebec, this is certainly one to watch out for.

OLD WORLD MALBEC

While I'm allotting space for bottles that didn't make my list, here's a couple more notable 2005 reds that amaze me. (What is it about 2005?) They are both from Cahors in Southwest France. I call them the CDC 05 and CLC 05 -- the Chatons du Cèdre 2005 and the Clos la Coutale 2005 -- and they're just the ticket if you ever find the general repertory section of the SAQ a little drab. These are very cheap and very widely available. Having had them both many times over many recent years, it seems to me that they've never been better. Priced at $12.45 and $14.25 respectively (and that's in Canadian funds after all taxes), they are below my daily wine budget's typical range.

Amid the mass-produced alternatives that they share the shelf with, and amid all the ersatz Fuzion in the Argentina section that stares them down from across the store, these two are real standouts of the moment.

Dreaming of a White Xmas: Domaine Mourgues du Grès Terre d'Argence 05, Palacios Remondo Plàcet 05, Domaine Cauhapé Sève d'Automne 04, Bodegas Aura 05

2007-12-18T23:22:00.000-05:00

Is one in five accurate odds that the wine you open is spoiled? Our Dreaming of a White Christmas blind tasting -- hosted by Joe of Joe's Wine -- marked the second time he and I got together with five bottles. As it turned out, we found that one of the five bottles had gone off, just like what happened at our first event.

Back in October, I hosted a Cab Franc Table Talk night where I found that oxidation had all but ruined one particular bottle (to be fair, Joe was less categorical on this wine's demise). And then for Joe's white wine event earlier this month, we had a corker on our hands.

One in five bottles seems tremendously unlucky and much more than my usual day-to-day discovery of defective wine. But no complaints here, since Joe and I get so much out of these blind tasting nights. An evening of wine appreciation like these is so much more than the sum of its parts, even when there's a minus in the mix, so to speak.

So without further ado, here's our notes (Joe's are inset and mine follow) on some wines made from white grapes along the Spanish-French border: blends and varietals from Roussanne, Viognier, Grenache Blanc, Verdejo, Viura (Maccabeu), Malvoisie and the two Mansengs (Gros Manseng and Petit Manseng).

(The order corresponds with the bottles aligned across the top of the post, which are clickable images that offer more detailed product info.)

1. Domaine Mourgues du Grès Terre d'Argence Vin de Pays du Gard 2005

The decanter on the left held the Domaine Mourgues du Grès Terre d'Argence Vin de Pays du Gard, a blend of Roussanne, Viognier and Grenache Blanc. A new appellation for me, this wine was reminiscent of the white Hermitage I had recently. Yellow gold in the glass, the nose showed lavender, lemon, apple and toast. A touch thin on the palate, but as it warmed it showed a nice, rich apple flavour. Good acidity, but a bit hot. Very Rhone-like, and a nice effort.

Eyes: Darker than the others, kind of greyish

Nose: Apple, flowers, with complexity

Mouth: Honeycomb, note of cream supplanted onto a grassy edge. Full-bodied and heady.

Stomach: Had this one in a leftover minibottle so I opened it for dinner two days later. Vanilla notes totally pronounced where I hadn't thought to note anything earlier -- a sign or poor oak integration of poor conservation? In any case, with my dinner of trout and sautéed veg, it was an okay match but the woodiness was a bit overwhelming. For a fresh bottle, it'd be a great pairing for boldly seasoned Asian stir fries loaded with crunchy MSG'ed vegetables. An umami-suited wine.

François Collard, Beaucaire, France. 14.5%.

2. Château les Pins Côtes du Roussillon 2003

The next decanter held a Château les Pins Côtes du Roussillon. Corked, unfortunately, as there were some neat aromas hiding underneath - cooked pears, flowers - and some almonds on the palate.

Eyes: Golden-yellow

Nose: Cardboard over white fruit

Mouth: Complexity is there but it's all coloured by cork taint. (Fruit from 2003 already receding it would seem making this even more pithy and pitty -- hard to assess whether buying another bottle would be in order.)

Stomach: This bottle would do a disservice to food.

Cave des Vignerons de Baixas, Baixas, France. 14.5%.

3. Palacios Remondo Plàcet Rioja 2005

For both Marcus and I (and my wife who joined us later) the clear favourite was the Palacios Remondo Plàcet, a white Rioja wine made from the local Viura grape and reviewed here earlier this year. A pale white gold in the glass - the palest of the bunch - I thought it might be the Rueda by the colour. Very interesting on the nose – citrusy (limes), minerally, and floral – gorgeous. Elegant, rich and luscious, with a nice long bitter finish. Sometimes a great wine comes together so well that you can’t use words to describe why you like it so much – the Plàcet is one of those. Marcus and I just bought up the last bottles on the island (sorry).

Eyes: Straw

Nose: Flint, funky and direct -- this wine was less changeable, more distinctive than the others.

Mouth: Mineral but smooth, honeysuckle, with nutty-bitter finish. Medium body.

Stomach: Yum. My favourite style of wine of the bunch so I'd eat this with anything or drink it down all on its own. Joe's selection of cheeses from the Pyrenees did it justice, as did a salmon mousse and yeasty baguette. Even a saucisson side -- why not? Entirely lovely.

Alfaro, España. 13.5%.

4. Domaine Cauhapé Sève D'Automne Jurançon 2004

The next decanter held the Domaine Cauhapé Sève D'Automne, a wine from the Jurançon sec appellation (made from the Gros Manseng grape) and tasted in my Southwest France review. Deep yellow gold in the glass, it showed green melon, banana, honey and pineapple on the nose. The tropical theme continued on the palate - papaya and melon, with a nice bitter and minerally finish. Once again, the whopping alcohol was not overly apparent. Flavourful and elegant, but an extrovert amongst a more reserved peer group. Note: the priciest wine of the evening.

Eyes: Golden, most visually consistent of the bunch, viscous

Nose: Exotic fruit, honey

Mouth: Linear attack, white plum, spice changing more to green apple with a long finish. Nice acidity. Lime zinginess.

Stomach: What a well-made wine -- the way the acidity holds up against the fatness of the fruit. Had leftovers with dessert the following night and though this is a sec, is great with any course. Delicious!

Monein, France. 15%.

5. Bodegas Aura Rueda 2005

The decanter on the right held a Bodegas Aura, a Verdejo from the Spanish Rueda appellation. This golden wine was rather simple - apples and lemon rind on the nose, some minerals. On the palate is was thin and light, lemony and minerally, with a nice crisp aftertaste. Kinda Pinot Griggio-ish, this was a terrific white quaffer - uncomplex, but fun. And the best price of the evening...

Eyes: Yellowish

Nose: Crisp nose of gooseberries and white pepper

Mouth: A full-fronted attack: Racy, appley, lots of zest. A bit of alcohol on the finish lingers. Odd resinated quality.

Stomach: A stand-in for Sauvignon in term of food pairings. There was a goat cheese (Tomme de Chevre des Pyrenees) that Joe served that initially suggested a good fit, but I think it liked it best with an interesting and zesty semi-hard cheese from Spain called Manchego. Clearly, Joe's cheese-mongering abilities live up to his keen wine appreciation.

Castilla y León, Rueda, España. 13.5%.

On a holiday trip in America, breaking some bread with the inventor of White Zinfandel

2007-12-14T23:51:00.000-05:00

In the period between American Thanksgiving and American Christmas (the secular observance falling on December 25), life can turn into one big cranberry if you let it.

This directly applies to the flavour profile of the wines you may encounter, especially if you go along with the idea that White Zinfandel is the made-to-order match for Butterballs with all the fixings, festive holiday luncheons and the heaps of leftovers that emerge as turkey club sandwiches.

White Zinfandel is not something that I had ever knowingly tasted. If I had ever stopped to give this style of wine any thought, I'm sure I would have assumed that I would continue avoiding it, come gleaming 20-lb stuffed turkey or high water.

But quite recently, during a trip to New York City, I discovered there was a chink in my armor. Perhaps this was hubris, or even worse, holiday hubris, which often comes wrapped in coloured cellophane with a tacky wine accessory attached.

AN INAUSPICIOUS END TO DELICIOUS START

BrooklynGuy Neil, whom I met up with while I was visiting New York, lead me from Pineau d'Aunis blend to Pinot Noir bubbly, steering me entirely clear of any Zinfandel of any kind, even though Thanksgiving had just passed.

We drank Muscadet and we drank Touraine. And even in leaving behind the Loire Valley -- practically a polar winter to any Zinfandel grape -- I only strayed as far as the Mâcon.

And when my bottle of Mâcon-Villages spilled onto the sidewalk in Hell's Kitchen (yes, it was me who was the good Samaritan seen picking up glass shards at the corner of Eighth Avenue and 49th Street at noon on Saturday, December 1) I merely crossed the street and got another one almost identical to the first.

One day, change was afoot. I was feeling like something more spicy for a trip to the NoHo Star so I shopped for a lusty red wine. But I blindly passed by the Ravenswoods and Clines and picked up an Alfrocheiro from Portugal (which was a really exciting find -- my first 100% varietal from Portugal -- and it drank beautifully, almost like a light and spicy Rhône).

It would seem there was not a bottle of Zinfandel in the world that would reach this Canadian in New York during the festive season. Or was there one, silently sitting there waiting for me?

Glasses clinked and November became December. My departing train came too suddenly -- I was whisked up to Albany, where Amtrak's 15-minute layover greeted me and my hastily purchased turkey chimichanga with a small and curious bottle of Sutter Home Family Vineyeards White Zinfandel 2005 (the only wine sold in the entire train station -- thankfully with a screw top, the most teensy-tiny one I've ever seen). My train home about to pull out of the station so I wasn't about to split hairs. But I rolled my eyes and grabbed a stout as a back-up (the stout, unlike the wine, was not a screw top, and it went straight into the garbage).

Is this how it would all go down? A White Zinfandel neophyte chugging along Lake Champlain with a $2 bottle of blush to declare at the Canadian border? (For the record, Quebec only imports three brands of White Zinfandel: Gallo, Baron Herzog, and Beringer's sparkling version; Ontarians have a full dozen of White Zin options, including the one I had before me here, but their increased exposure to this blush is because the Ontario wine industry produces some even more ersatz stuff of their own -- namely White Zinfandel-Vidal -- to up the tally.)

Surely such an amazingly eye-opening trip to the Big Apple filled with great food and wine would not be concluded like this?

Well actually, it was the only time during my visit when I had nothing better to do than write tasting notes, so yes, it would be the culmination of my trip.

Eyes: This is actually a blush wine, and not just any old rosé, so it's a paler shade of pink.

Nose: Cidery, both distinct wafts of cider vinegar and aged fruit. How quaint. I'm still amazed at this point that I bought this bottle.

Mouth: Mulled wine on the palate -- practically juice. At first I felt like dumping it, but the line for the train toilet was too long to make it worthwhile. Soon, I starting coming around to it. Totally cranberry profile -- it tastes like Thanksgiving right out of one of those cranberry jelly tins. Not bad tannic presence, who knew a blush (though I think it's got more than a hint of pink) could be so grippy and drying, which mercifully complemented the sweet side of this wine's attack.

Stomach: The Adobe turkey chimichanga I got from Whole Foods was packed with shredded turkey, kernels of corn and spices. I actually felt like I was having a movable Thanksgiving feast, post-dated one week.

So overall, not a bad wine to crack open on the Amtrak Adirondack at 10:30 am (let me qualify that slightly by saying the café car wasn't selling anything with alcohol until noon that day).

Next stop Schenectady, where I picked up a wireless signal long enough to gather the following information on White Zinfandel, U.S. patent #2934857396684759760157495731110490928658.

(Like the wireless bandwidth, the following was stolen from an unacknowledged source.)

In the 1970s Sutter Home Winery was a producer of premium Zinfandel in the Napa Valley. One technique they utilized to increase concentration in their wines was to bleed off some of the grape juice prior to fermentation to increase the impact of compounds in the skins on the remaining wine. The excess juice was separately fermented into a dry, almost white wine that Sutter Home's Bob Trinchero called "White Zinfandel." This wine became the classic example of the varietal style. An "invention" that is Delicate blush pink in color, with sweet aromas of strawberries and watermelon. It is fresh and lively with a crisp finish. Enjoy well chilled.

Varietal Information

Produced from red Zinfandel grapes grown in the upper Sacramento and northern San Joaquin valleys. Grapes for this bottling were harvested early in the growing season (early to mid-August) at low sugars (18-19 degrees Brix) and relatively high acids to maximize the freshness typical of this wine.

Nutritional Information

5oz serving size, 5 servings per 750ml container:
Calories | Carbohydrates | Fat | Protein
108.000 | 008.300 grams | nil | <1 gram

Happy Accident (Detailed information)

In 1975, Sutter Home's White Zinfandel experienced a "stuck fermentation", a problem that occurs when the yeast dies out before consuming all of the sugar.[3] This problem juice was set aside. Some weeks later the winemaker tasted it, and preferred this accidental result, which was a sweet pink wine. This is the style that became popular and today is known as White Zinfandel. Sutter Home realized they could sell far more White Zinfandel than anything they had produced to date, and gradually became a successful producer of inexpensive wines. The demand for White Zinfandel resulted in extended commercial viability of old vine Zinfandel vineyards, which saved them from being ripped out.[4] When the fine wine boom started in the 1980s, demand for red Zinfandel picked up considerably and these vineyards became prized for the low yields from century-old vines.

Rather than use the leftover juice from premium Zinfandel production, Sutter Home (and most producers today) grow grapes specifically for use in White Zinfandel in places like the Central Valley of California. Production costs are substantially lower and fruit quality is not as important to the final taste as it would be in a dry table wine.

In the 1990s the Trinchero family, owners of Sutter Home, began production of a new brand of fine wines, M. Trinchero.

Napa, California, U.S.A. 9.5%.

Not hanging it up . . . for now

2007-12-09T20:27:00.000-05:00

This was a long and mostly unplanned blogging hiatus. Since the end of November, I've been able to travel and uncork great wines with both the legendary BrooklynGuy and the consummate taster Joe of Joe's Wine.

On both occasions, I got to meet their families and felt tremendously welcome. And while I had met BrooklynGuy and Joe before, meeting up with them in their element and spending more time with them was a little bit like getting to know your favourite Pinot. These guys have truly great blogs, but I still gotta say that virtual wine appreciation isn't as nearly good as the real thing -- especially with great guys like these two. You learn a lot.

And for me this just makes blogging seem less important in comparison, less vital. At the moment, journaling about wine feels almost like an afterthought -- or like talking to an answering machine when you know someone will eventually pick up if you call again.

That said, I still have a bunch of stuff I want to enter for my own record-keeping and whatnot, so the wineblog is resilient in that regard. Doktor Weingolb's decanters aren't being hung up for good so I'm turning them around. Wine to come...

Drying stands and the dryer-resistent decanter: How do you dry your wine carafe?

2007-11-30T07:32:00.000-05:00

Who has got tips on decanter dryers?

Normally I find a drying stand ideal. The water drips out on its own with a little help from gravity.

But the skewed angle at which the curvier decanters hang off the stand can still allow draining water to pool in recessed areas and small depressions in the side of the carafe. Once it begins to form a puddle you know you're in trouble. The water will never evaporate. Those stubborn puddles of moisture that linger in the hard-to-reach areas of your wine decenter are even more stubborn as wintertime approaches.

So drying stands: not so easy after all.

I bought this pipe-cleaner at a restaurant supply store. I don't remember what the device was actually designed for, but as soon as I saw the pliable stem, soft scratch-free bristles on a long handle, I knew it would come in handy for the strange microclimates that habitually form in my carafe.

Here I am depicted struggling with this the other day. I had to go it again and again before the droplets of water finally receded.

You need more than to graze them with an absorbent surface. I think this concept for drying is the best idea but have never heard any testimonials as to whether it really works.

Château Saint-Brice Saint-Émilion Grand Cru 1999

2007-11-27T12:50:00.000-05:00

Does this look good enough?

Good enough for this?

I could hardly be sure: This is my first grand cru. A fairly well-reviewed wine described as an expensive but not overpriced product from one of the celebrated châteaux operated by the Moueix family. I found this bottle -- the "second wine" of Château Magdelaine -- at a steep discount of 25% off after it had done some cellaring but was still very much before it's best-before date. Click on the image above for the SAQ's descriptive file on the current vintage.

Eyes:

Nose:

Mouth:

Stomach:

Sorry, no notes on this one. I really wanted to enjoy it, let it wash over me without an expressly critical approach, and see how it would change me.

What has changed? I have to say, not much, so perhaps that says it all. But if anyone wants more details or has a specific question you can email me.

Anytime wine: O'Terra (formerly Opus Terra) Les Vignerons des Tourelles Merlot Syrah 2005

2007-11-26T07:59:00.000-05:00

O'Terra is short for Opus Terra, but you can't really say that since some Californian heavyweights in the wine world have taken over official ownership of the word Opus since the mid-eighties.

When the Vignerons des Tourelles in Languedoc-Rousillon created this cuvée in the nineties, its label (which happens to be the one on the bottle shown above) was considered as infringing on the copyright of the winery, which is Opus One. As an outcome of the legal dustup, Tourelles had to settle for naming their wine O'Terra.

In Quebec, there is no Opus One wine currently for sale. When there was, it was priced at $264. The "opus" of a cuvée that the Vignerons des Tourelles make is $251 cheaper. No wonder Opus One was worried!

I've never tasted any wine carrying the Opus One brand -- I'm sure it'd be hard to compare it to O'Terra Vin de Pays d'Oc 2005, but I think it goes without saying that this bottle here is the anytime wine that Opus One is not.

Anytime wine is a great thing. It's the wine I described in the last post. Only the most difficult-to-pair dish would not be done justice by this savoury, oak-free, fruit-driven red wine. It's not meant to age however, so when I say it's anytime wine I mean anytime this year or next.

O'Terra is 60% Merlot and 40% Syrah. This balance is perfect. It renders tannic values to an exceptably low level for lighter fish dishes; it adds complexity to a flavour profile that is expressive enough to come across whether it served with steak or duck.

What else can I say? I most often think of opening a Loire red for my favourite dinners. But the times in between special dining occasions are more than well-served by this fantastic $13 bottle.

Eyes: A clear red with medium depth.

Nose: Fairly aromatic. It suggested cherry pie to me. Some yeasty notes with alluring red berry aromas.

Mouth: Crisp and refreshing attack with plums in a savoury spice. Tremendous brightness with a dry and light-to-medium body. Intense flavours supported by some round tannin. The finish is somewhat weaker than the attack. Simple but so expressive.

Stomach: A food-friendly package has been delivered to you. I had this with tuna casserole one night, red meat the next. Pork, poultry, salmon, why not? Lamb might not be the perfect match, but it would work.

You also might take Michel Phaneuf's word on this wine since it's been given high praise for a number of consecutive years, even in the troublesome 2002 vintage.

I particularly appreciate Malcolm Anderson's review despite being for a vintage that has long passed. I last tasted this version four to five years ago, yet it still sounds pleasantly familiar:

I really liked this wine’s blend of merlot and syrah. It had a leathery, animal, earthy nose and delightful blackberry fruit on the palate with a complexity rarely seen in a wine of this price. The wine has no oak aging - you taste what the grapes and the winemaker gave you. the wine has enough tannins to add interest to the palate but they are the softer grape tannins imparted by the skin and are easy to handle. If you are lucky enough to have any remaining turkey leftovers at this date, defrost them for this excellent wine. Wine of the week ****

Malcom Anderson - The Gazette - Jan. 11, 2003

Beaucaire, Gard, France. 14%.

What bottle of wine backs up your meal?

2007-11-23T10:00:00.000-05:00

How many people have asked the question: What wine do I serve with dinner? The photo above always comes to my mind when I hear this question. In fact, I should mount this photo onto a flash card and hand it out to anyone who asks. That's because it so perfectly demonstrates the answer to the question (and also because this photo literally depicts a wine bottle hidden behind the food -- you can only see the bottle neck peeking out).

So what bottle of wine backs up this meal? What wine is behind the dish? In order to answer, you've first got to determine what it is you're eating.

Well, that's easy. It's grilled salmon.

Fish = white wine. Problem solved. Push aside the red wine. Let's eat.

But wait! It's not actually fish -- that's really a chicken breast.

So slide the red wine over back over. Roasted chicken = red wine. Dig in!

And suddenly, the gustatory experience of your dinner has been reduced to easy visuals rather than tastebuds and mouthfeel. Any black-and-white answer to the pairing wine with dinner question becomes, at best, a dubious conclusion. My flash card has no clear answer written on the back. Because grilled salmon goes with red wine and white wine; roasted chicken goes with red wine and white wine.

KILLING THIS NEW WINE TREND BEFORE IT IS BORN

Around Halloweentime, Dr. Debs at Good Wine Under $20 spoke out, unearthing a spooky post. Very spooky!

In it, the wine bottles we typically see at our shops are talked about as if they're in perpetual disguise -- like their labels are masks and wine shoppers who come across them couldn't guess what's behind that mask until they open it, pour it out during dinner, and shockingly find [cue thunder and lightning bolts] that it doesn't complement your food!

Therefore, one proposed solution to this horror scene is a line of wines that have no labels at all, just the image of the food you should serve them with, as illustrated by the bottles above. How clever this is!

If only it worked. Dr. Debs explains the problem well. Kudos to the doctor -- check out the full post.

The way I see it, the problem is that the food you make is dressed up every night of the year, not just on Halloween, or on Thanksgiving. Surely no one prepares the same food the same way every night of year.

Take a look again at the flash-card photo of the dinner I recently made. At first, I couldn't even tell if it was chicken or fish I made that night -- mostly because my grilling preparation method with fresh herbs and bold flavours suits both chicken breast and salmon.

One ends up tasting like salmon and one ends up tasting like chicken. The accompanying flavours and textures always support a good food-friendly red wine. Personally, I think nine times out of 10, I'd reach for red wine after grilling no-matter-what, fish included. That's because the preparation supports flavours and textures that nine red out of ten would handle better than a typical white.

So yes, red wine with fish!

Now that's spooky for a lot of people. But to me, it's the truth. Spooky, but true.

But I'm not going to say that on average reds better suit grilled salmon without serving up readers a good example. Nine reds out of 10 may not totally convince you that red wine and fish match.

Stay tuned for the versatile, food-friendly wine I serve with almost anything -- that'll be the next post. I'll give you a hint: It's not Saumur-Champigny or anything remotely close to the Loire.

New rock's "Hot Earth": Domaine des Roches Neuves Terres Chaudes 2005

2007-11-21T12:45:00.000-05:00

I'm not sure why I went out to try and buy the entire Thierry Germain catalogue. Actually I do know why.

After admiring Joe's donation to our Cabernet Franc tasting -- La Marginale -- I realized that BrooklynGuy recommends other cuvées from Thierry Germain. Germain, the wine maker at Domaine des Roches Neuves, also produces L'Insolite, Terres Chaudes (the clickable bottle image shown above), as well as a self-titled domaine cuvée, their entry-level wine. I couldn't find L'Insolite, but managed to bag the other two.

I liked the Terres Chaudes 2005 quite a bit. (I preferred it to the cheaper Cuvée Thierry Germain 2004 -- coincidentally if you swap vintages you can get BrooklynGuy's take on these two, as he tasted the Terres Chaudes 04 and Cuvée Thierry Germain 05.)

Domaine des Roches Neuves Terres Chaudes 2005

Eyes: Dark purple hue with a fuschia rim. Exhibits tears and a lot of viscosity in the glass. Inky depth of colour. NOTE: Sediment is in this wine -- quite a bit -- so it needs a thorough decant.

Nose: Low intensity nose. I thought this would develop more but even on the next night is was subdued. Some licorice and, I think, alcohol.

Mouth: Sour cherry evolving to darker red berries. A rootiness suggestive of star anise takes over to make this Cabernet Franc an interesting specimen that is neither distinctly fruity nor vegetal. Some green pepper and mineral with a lovely creamy note. Drying, crispy and with a solid body and sound tannin. A fine finish with great length. Style very much similar to the 2003 La Marginale, yet I'd encourage people to treat it much more like a "drink now" wine despite the fact that it's in its youthful stage. It's good like this!

Stomach: I've read that you should grill food with this wine but my braised rôti de boeuf (a bas palette or bottom blade roast slow cooked with turnip or carrots and garlic was totally delicious as an accompaniment. Saumur-Champigny earns its title as the food-friendliest appellation of France so you could serve it with almost anything. Since this wine is more substantial fare than most bistro bottles, I would advise you try something richly textured, slightly fatty, somewhat rustic and intensely flavoured. Rôti de bas palette garni, it is!

BAS PALETTE ON PARADE

Varrains, France. 13%.

One good turn of the page deserves another: A wine tasting notebook for your wine buying guidebook

2007-11-19T07:59:00.000-05:00

A great bottle of wine deserves a great tasting note.

Think of that today as the Wine Spectator Top 100 of 2007 comes out. It's that time of year when wine lovers will be given heaps of wine recommendations. My last post is an example -- Phaneuf's Quebec wine consumer guide that just appeared on Montreal shelves. No doubt that it is the ultimate stocking stuffer for the Québécois wino you love.

But the year-end roundups, ratings and rankings make for rather obvious, somewhat clichéed gifts. Leave them for the unfashionable to give. If I was getting myself a little gift during the upcoming holiday season, it would be the Wine Tasting Notebook, pictured above, from Steve De Long of De Long Wine Info.

This Wine Tasting Notebook, which is newly available on Steve's site (click through via the linked image above, or check my Blogroll for De Long Wine Moment), is comprised of a 60-page notebook and a fold-out spill-proof quick reference guide to wine tasting terms that flips over to reveal a step-by-step how-to instruction on taking tasting notes.

My first official wine tasting note -- way back in the day when this blog was still a baby -- was with Steve's guidance. But what can I say? You don't need to be a beginner to benefit from his clear and complete wine notes package. I love the design, the useful cheat sheets and the conciseness of his guidelines. I used them then and I use them now, with my Vistorta review from a few days ago being wine note #1 in the book he sent me.

In fact, forget beginners. This notebook arrived to save me just at the time when I was floundering amid dead soldiers (empty wine bottles are only a decorative touch until they outnumber the volumes on your bookshelf). I remember looking deep into the abyss of my cork drawer, wondering why I had all these corks and no notes to immortalize the wine they once stoppered. I was becoming a virtual black hole for wine. Taking tasting notes is the healthy way out, or at least that's the way I see it.

But most importantly, with Steve's terminology and how-to guides, your note taking won't flounder before your wine glass while your dinner sits there getting cold. He presents a painless solution. The pre-printed note pages are laid out to allow you to quickly circle, fill in the blanks and jot down your most salient thoughts. Most people don't realize that you don't need to write a book for these things (unless you are lucky enough to come across one of those wines that totally illuminate you, and in turn, your pen as it fills the entire page).

FRESH NEW DUDS TO KEEP THE WINO BEYOND REPROACH

Steve was kind enough to comp me a "Your Brain on Wine" T-shirt that was exactly my colour. It was a nice shade that Steve calls pencil shavings, which is wine tasting lingo for copper-grey.

My first time wearing it was at work. I had a dress shirt with check print over top of it. I remember I was meeting with the person who was previously my boss's boss. Like many of the people I work with, my ex-boss's boss knew about my wineblog after the local newspaper printed my full name and a URL.

It's not exactly fame though. To tell you the truth, I don't think anyone in the office actually follows my posts at all. They tend to try and track my hobby in another way. They study my clothes for traces of wine stains. Yes, this is the civilized society we live in. I believe it's most precisely called Schadenfreude.

So anyway I wasn't surprised when my ex-boss's boss paid me a back-handed compliment about my shirt as we exited the meeting room, saying that it suited me very much "...and you don't even see any marks from the wine..." [laughter].

At which point I did a Clark-Kent-in-a-phone-booth and graciously, yet somewhat indignantly, stuck out my unbuttoned chest to reveal my "Brain on Wine" T-shirt. And by way of correction, I replied: "Look -- the mark of wine is always there," gesturing with hand over heart. I think anyone watching from a distance would've wanted to have me committed. On second thought, those in my immediate midst too.

No matter. Problem solved. I don't think my coworkers will be searching me for wine stains anymore. Thanks to Steve.

Phaneuf makes many changes in new guidebook on wine buying

2007-11-16T07:12:00.001-05:00

What seems at first like a subtle change is nothing short of a revolution: The 2008 Phaneuf Le Guide du Vin has become a wine guide for SAQ specialty products.

In Quebec, the government agency SAQ regulates all wine distribution. At its most simple, it owns a catalog of products for retail sale that is divided in two: wine spécialités, harder to locate and stocked in lower numbers, and wine of the répertoire générale, which is cheaper, more generally distributed bottles that one can easily locate throughout the province.

(To give you a practical sense of this, it's the specialties from the SAQ I most often blog about, that Joe from Joe's Wine blogs about, and that Bill Zacharkiw of the Gazette most often writes about.)

For this 28th edition of his guide, which appeared in stores midweek, Phaneuf explains the new approach. The new focus on specialty wine serves to help the wine buyer navigate a more elaborate and far-ranging part of the SAQ catalog. That makes sense. But I think he's stopping short of saying it all -- he's not mentioning the huge amount of mostly pedestrian wine criticism (mine, example) oozing out from everywhere and that perhaps he wants to "specialize."

Or could Phaneuf actually be saying that the ubiquitous, often characterless cheap wine of the general repertory is just not worth reviewing? With many of the these bottles around the $10 mark and going down in price, does a consumer guide that costs three times that price really add much value to your buying power? Ten dollars in a liquor store is simply dispensable for most people and a three-star review is generally not required to try out a wine with that kind of price tag.

Not that Phaneuf is never reviewing cheap wine anymore. He picks his very favourite items from the general stock -- the bottles signaling the greatest value and the most accomplished wines with a budget price. Yet clearly, he is also announcing (without actually saying it) that the really interesting wine values are not in the general repertory but in the range of wines typically hovering around $15 to $30. This is not surprising. Jancis Robinson and many other have said the same thing.

But never before has Phaneuf so purposely focused outside the general repertory. Ultimately I think this has to make a difference in Quebeckers' buying habits. People who use this guide will slowly start raising the amount they spend on a bottle. As a result, they will buy more specialties. The SAQ will respond by listing more specialties their catalog, achieving greater depth and selection. Better wines will be more readily available in Quebec.

OTHER THINGS TO LOOK FOR IN THE NEW PHANEUF

Stemming from the new attention to far-ranging wine selection, Le Guide du Vin now has space uniquely devoted to:

Austria

British Columbia

Corsica

These are good things! Just looking at the breadth and comprehensiveness now present in the guide makes me want to go to my calendar and assign each week in 2008 a different wine region. (I wrote that in hyperbole but now that it's out there I think I might really try that.)

Axed is a half-hearted and rarely updated section on wine and food pairings. In its place are expanded listings of wine-friendly restaurants in Montreal and beyond, which I like.

Also a nice move, a major change was made to the problematic page design adopted in last year's edition. In this update, designers appear to have taken all of my criticisms to heart: Inset wine labels feature wraparound text and the type itself is a huge improvement. The silly oversized font from 2007 has been relegated to the index, where its cartoon-ish size may actually be helpful since you're skimming for a lot of foreign names and long strings of numbers in their product codes. Improved typesetting throughout the book adds an extra line per page and around six extra characters per line, all while being highly legible. At about thirty pages more than last year's (and I like the new page stock) it's clear the 2008 guide has a lot more words. More words means more wine reviews and that means more consumer guidance and bang for your buck.

Perhaps Phaneuf is picking up the pace a bit because of the increased competition in the wine-expert industry. With those factors looming, he now introduces a collaborator, Nadia Fournier, to whom he seems to be passing the torch, or at least grooming for a hand-over.

I would love to be an intern working on the production of the Phaneuf book -- this thought came to me last year after criticizing it -- so it seems Ms. Fournier is now my official nemesis at six years my junior.

With that in mind, I now offer my very own published critiques of wines which now turn out to have been given top marks in 2008 (the famed Phaneuf Grappe d'Or rating). Remember, these are glowing reviews that I wrote up myself before the guide pronounced upon them:

Conte Brandolini d'Adda Vistorta Grave Del Friuli Merlot 2004

Isabel Estates Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc 2005

So you know Nadia, it's not rocket science.

WBW #39 Silver Burgundy: Domaine François Lumpp Crausot 2004

2007-11-14T07:08:00.000-05:00

Today it's BrooklynGuy's turn to host Wine Blogging Wednesday. With it comes a theme that brings bloggers a piece of him.

What makes BrooklynGuy tick may be a question you've asked yourself if you've ever followed the ongoing and always intriguing blogging going on at BrooklynGuy's Wine and Food Blog.

It's fairly obvious to the casual reader that BG is big fan of Burgundies. But when I met him he told me that these were the wines that turned him a true wine lover beyond the point of return. He admitted that these were expensive wines. With a newly arrived BrooklynBaby on the scene (and those BrooklynRents aren't going down either you know), BrooklynGuy's need to find greater value wines from storied French wine regions grew more urgent.

Hence WBW 33, hosted by me, which... whoops, wrong WBW! But like the WBW 33 Languedoc-Roussillon value wines I did in May, BrooklynGuy has asked participants to look to other wines -- the lesser knowns and the humbler reputations (in this case, Burgundy's Côte Chalonnaise and Mâconnais) -- to find some quality bottles at a more affordable, everyday price. Hear hear!

Hence Silver Burgundy. There's no need to always try to go for the gold. In the world of wine, I couldn't agree with this sentiment more.

I have a feeling the bottle I picked up for WBW 39 is too expensive, despite all this. I knew I wanted a red, and since I already had experienced a couple of great Mercureys (both the Michel Juillot and the Marquis de Jouennes would've been perfect entries for WBW 39), it was the Givry region I was perusing. In the end, they were very alluring to me and perhaps I put more weight on the appellation part than the getting a bargain part.

I picked up the Domaine François Lumpp Givry Premier Cru Crausot 2004 -- the Crausot in the name being the precise plot of land in Givry that Monsieur Lumpp uses. This bottle is priced in the mid-thirties in Quebec (see its online descriptive record here). That's because it's not only just any old Givry -- Givry being situated in the heart of the Chalonnaise region -- but because it's also a Givry Premier Cru -- my first Burgundy cru, or classed growth. So apparently that Crausot vineyard is hot stuff. Not sure if crus are what Silver Burgundy is all about, but went for it anyway.

I was very interested in seeing how this would pan out. So, of course, I would be disappointed. I think maybe I should've taken baby steps. BrooklynGuy seemed to want to ease fellow bloggers into this one and I may have dived in head first. Here's what I found.

Eyes: Flashy, intensely coloured and bright ruby in the glass.

Nose: In terms of aroma, I thought it smelled like barn on fire that contained a whole lot of freshly picked mushrooms and was subsequently doused with vats of cherry kirsh. Over time, this sense seems to wane. Maybe I got used it? Not sure. But I see that Jane MacQuitty endorsed this wine -- perhaps because it so vanilla-ish overall.

Mouth: This is a very overt wine. Also very smoky with strong cherry verging on cherry medicine by virtue of the heavy extraction. There's also some interesting earthiness and pinch of cacao, but mostly it reminds me of concentrated jello. A squelch of acid is followed by a much simpler finish than I was hoping for a wine of this calibre.

Stomach: Fairly demanding with food, I have to say. I had to re-season my meal, midstream. The chicken breast encrusted in Gran Padano and mustard-celery seeds was a lively match that stood up to this hulking Pinot. It brought out the spice and verve that lies at this Givry cru's centre. However, my simply prepared mushrooms did nothing for the wine and I really had to enhance them to continue. More flavourful were roasted red and yellow peppers. They had an intensity that paired fairly well because its strong ovenroasted notes complemented the wine's.

A LUMPPY RIDE SMOOTHES OUT OVER TIME

On the second night, this Lumpp cuvée was showing off a fruity licorice profile that I quite enjoyed and by this time the length seems quite spectacular to me but I still would not buy it again -- even if a thorough decant could get me to this point again.

My conclusions on this wine don't beat around the bush. This is a heavily extracted wine that possesses little intrigue and too much oak. Not a lot of complexity or anything that really flags my interest. This is exactly what I'd call a boring though technically sound wine. Other than the nose I'm fairly sure all aspects of this wine could be found in a Mondavi wine of half its price. In a word: Lumpp-ish.

Grade: 2 Lumpps (out of five)

Like it or lumpp it, this was a great chance to discover a region I don't usually explore and also to find out a little more about one of the palates I most respect in the blogosphere: that of the BrooklynGuy. I eagerly await the remaining entries and of course the full WBW 39 roundup. I'm staying tuned!

François Lumpp, Le Pied du Clos, Givry, France. 13%.

My dinner with Conte Brandolini d'Adda Vistorta 2004

2007-11-12T06:39:00.000-05:00

This is a wine that figures more prominently in the mind than it does in the cellar -- I think about it more than I drink it. And I refer to it more than I review it.

In fact, this is the first real tasting note I've done for this cuvée, and only the third bottle of it that I've ever opened. So reverence coloured my note-taking, which in my books means harsher judgment and tougher evaluation rather than the reverse.

But that always happens when your first experience with a certain wine lights up your circuits. That was the 2000 Vistorta, which I mentioned in this site's first review of a New World varietal (I also alluded to it in a comparison of mass-produced Merlots and again recently during Wine Label Week #1). The way I see it, that 2000 vintage far outshone the 1999, and laid the groundwork to earning the 2003 a coveted five-star review from Michel Phaneuf (his latest release Le Guide du Vin 2008 should be out this week -- will it honour the 2004 in similar fashion?).

A NOTE ON THE SOIL TYPE

I love trying to trump Phaneuf, but before I attempt to predict his evaluation of the current Visorta vintage in stores, here is a note on the type -- soil type.

The Grave in the large Italian appellation of Grave del Friuli, northeast of Venice, might conjure up Bordeaux by way of Graves, if not Pomerol. This is appropriate as both the Italian and the French Grave designations come from the same root word which signifies the gravel that generously blankets both regions. But here's where the suggestive name that makes up a wine's designation can fool you.

Vistorta's vines do not sprout up from gravelly soil. Further afield from the central lowlands of Friuli, which have plenty of gravel, Vistorta's estates in Sacile border on Piave and feature soil types that are limestone and clay.

Winemakers says that this, not gravel, is "an ideal base ... with the same characteristics found in the Bordeaux and Médoc wine-producing areas, where the clay soils and hot and dry summers favour Merlot allowing it to express itself at its best."

Hmmm... That's a bait-and-switch, isn't it? Storied Bordeaux Merlot is more right bank than left, and Merlot ripens early so how is a long hot summer going to help? It seems to me the Vistorta people don't have the Grave-Graves connection that would align them more closely with Pomerol and they are trying to sidestep their way to Claret. I am being too cynical?

MY NOTES ON THE CURRENT VINTAGE

This wine does not need convincing -- I guess that is ultimately what I am trying to get at. But many Friuli wines still carry a reputation for a thin bitter body, so I suppose Vistorta is one winery that wants to throw down its claim to convince the first-time buyer before the corks pop, at which point the convincing really begins.

I'm not a first-time buyer, but here's what happened when my most recent Vistorta cork popped...

Conte Brandolini d'Adda Vistorta Grave del Friuli Merlot 2004

Eyes: Medium ruby in colour, exhibiting clarity and little tinge around the rim.

Nose: No shortage of aromatics, yet it still suggests itself as a developing wine. Candied rinds, spices and a sweetish component. Youthfulness on the nose wears off with some time and soon in my glass I'm getting cotton candy, pomegranate, honeycomb and some very well-integrated vanilla.

Mouth: Not a lot of surprises here after spending so much time nosing this wine. It's typical of a Merlot varietal -- damson plum and flowers. (Though the flowers convey some greenness, I still think they are violets.) Quite dry and sporting a lively acidity, this is still on the incline with no doubt several years in it once it peaks. Right now, the tannins are thoroughly drying and there's only a moderate flavour intensity with a medium-to-full body. It's not reaching the heights of the 2000, or at least not yet anyway. Clearly, this is a great expression and a superb wine nonetheless.

Stomach: Some tasting notes -- usually the concluding ones -- aren't rendered until I actively decide what dinner will complement the wine I've got. I find often it's the food you're eating that will help you nail down the essence of a bottle. In this context, food is not only pleasurable, it's quite instructive too. So for the remaining wine I saved for the next night, I made a rich, heavily caramelly meal. This was drawn up as a match for the blackened fruit and caramel tones the Vistorta possesses -- that's my overall sense of the wine that I didn't even note. I prepared carbonized carrots with caramelized onions, broccoli roasted in the oven until the florets started to singe, and my old standby of Parmesan-breaded chicken breast fried in brown (burnt) butter.

Azienda Agricola Vistorta, Brandino Brandolini d'Adda, Friuli (DOC) Grave, Italia. 13%.

My cork drawer overfloweth

2007-11-08T12:33:00.000-05:00

Which I suppose might mean that my cup doth overflow as well... But are too many corks translating into too few posts?

It may be time to do an audit on the corks I keep in my kitchen drawer. Have I been keeping up with all that I have been uncorking and enjoying?

I don't keep every cork, just the ones that stopper really great wines or are exceptional corks in and of themselves.

Corks with cork taint, thought they might be "exceptional," are not included. I prefer to keep the nice exceptions -- corks with intricate designs and memorable vintages etched into their sides or corks with deeply pigmented colour leeched into their ends.

Sometimes I keep plastic and Diam corks, but I tend to separate tehm because, for the most part, they make for useful household implements rather than souvenirs. One of these stabilizes my clothesline, for instance.

Oh, and I love the reusability of those corks that have those black plastic twist tops that often come out of Pineau des Charentes or LBV Port bottles. They earn a special place.

But no, I won't be starting a screwcap drawer any time soon.

Cab Franc table talk: Château Gaillard Vieilles Vignes 2000, Charles Joguet Clos du Chêne Vert 2002, Thierry Germain La Marginale 2003, Steltzner 2004

2007-11-05T09:06:00.000-05:00

It was a huge pleasure to partake is this substantial (and revealing) tasting of some fine Cabernet Franc wines.

By teaming up with fellow blogger Joe, I was able to stage a worthwhile look at this varietal in two New World and three Old World examples: from Napa Valley's Stags Leap District, from Niagara Peninsula's Glenlake Vineyard and three from Loire appellations, including Thierry Germain's Domaine des Roches Neuves cuvée La Marginale, which sadly is no longer available for sale in Quebec.

Thanks to Joe for extracting that bottle from his cellar. He also brought the Napa Cab produced by Steltzner Vineyards. I provided the Chinon and Niagara wines, plus a unique Loire red blend from Vincent Girault at Château Gaillard in Mesland, just to get our tasting hats on. Here's how I saw it all go down.

Château Gaillard Vieilles Vignes Touraine-Mesland 2000

This wine was not tasted blind. It was, as I mentioned, our warm-up wine. From the 2000 vintage, this has got to be the cheapest oldest wine you can buy at the SAQ. Adding to the intrigue was a percentage Gamay that the winemaker claimed to blend into this seven-year-old version of Cabernet Franc. How would this taste? A lot like Malbec actually, and that's of course because Côt was the third blending grape involved, perhaps the primary one. The Gamay provided a squelch of fruity tartness, the Cabernet seemed to add some rich cocoa notes. But it mostly seemed to be an expression most characteristic of Malbec or Gamay than Cabernet. (Several nights later this wine is still hanging on nicely with some zip). For $19, this bottle from 2000 is a rather odd delivery of an otherwise friendly and fun quaffer.

Château Gaillard: Certified organic and biodynamic. Vincent Girault, Mesland, Loir et Cher, France. 12%.

Charles Joguet Clos du Chêne Vert Chinon 2002

To me this was tell-tale Chinon, and the easiest to separate from the rest of the wines. It was decanted and definitely needs it. Even after a half-hour, it was still settling in. On the nose I first got cassis and cream. It seemed one-note on the palate, but that was still changing in the glass. On the palate it became less strict, offering luscious notes of tomato and green pepper. It is a typically vegetal wine with strong earthy/mineral elements so it's not surprising it goes so well with food. When I served beef tenderloin, seasoned potatoes wedges and garlic-steamed broccoli (which, perhaps unfortunately, only occurred after the wines were revealed), this Cabernet really showed its stuff. It ushered in the meal like none of the others, a perfect partner for steak and frites or for simmered beef and fresh vegetables. (I think that only food with really spicy or sweet elements would prevent this wine from shining as bright -- this wine definitely has a style shared with the ultimate dining wines.)

Clos du Chêne Vert: Charles Joguet, Sazilly, France. 12.5%.

Thierry Germain Domaine des Roches Neuves La Marginale Saumur Champigny 2003

This was the first wine we decanted and the first wine I tasted blind. By the time I stopped taking notes it was still baffling me, especially as to its true potential. This wine was so solid with so much depth that I felt the best reading on what this wine really amounts to could only come years down the road. It had a sharp nose rendering a complex bouquet. On the palate it was equally complex and powerful. The finish delivers admirably huge tannins -- definitely an aspect worth revisiting in the future. If it was a bit tight in the early stages, a palpable acidity was shown so I see no reason why it wouldn't last a decade or more. The fruit reminded me of Saumur fruit and terroir, though with many times the body and many times the lift. Ultimately, this convinced me that it was the other French wine, though clearly more New World-ish than the Chinon. A revelation -- but it manhandled my meal a bit. If only I could save my dinner and then reheat it with this wine ten years from now.

La Marginale: Thierry Germain, Varrains, France. 13%.

Steltzner Vineyards Stags Leap District Napa Valley 2004

Here is where I lost my way. The nose of this wine presented grenadine and spices and a somewhat understated aroma of leather. This was soft and alluring and was channeling the French wines I drink almost every night. On the palate, it was sweetish and offered less intrigue than the nose. It was more heavily oaked and yet much lighter than the Marginale -- which is a far from ideal combination. Especially with food, it ends up generating vanilla and so it comes off cloying. You might sense that it has peaked and is already receding. So my guess was that this was the 2000 Niagara wine rather than the Napa three-year-old. I was wrong. Surprise! I really could not tell at all that this was an over-alcoholized American wine of 15%. Credit to Steltzner, though as the night went on and I revisited it after dessert the alcohol was suddenly unmasked. The Napa zap! But too late -- I was fooled. To me this was the most demure and attractive nose of the bunch but it took me spiraling downhill from there. If I had it again, I wouldn't decant.

Steltzner: Napa, California, U.S.A. 15%.

Hillebrand Estates Glenlake Vineyards Showcase Niagara Peninsula 2000

Alcoholized and highly evolved in the glass, despite not decanting this bottle. This wine is oxidized and was rebottled for return.

This post mirrors what Joe already published over on Joe's Wine. But unlike Joe, I am not including my notes for the Niagara bottle (and I instead mentioned the Gaillard, even though it was not tasted blind). I'm taking the Niagara wine back. This is my decision. Joe wrote me that he "didn't find it to be something that needs returning," but he understood my feelings. The fact is I had tasted the Niagara wine earlier this year and wrote glowing notes on it here. But it showed up at our tasting showing seriously aged fruit and oxidation and this was merely a matter of weeks after purchase from the winery. How disappointing.

MY LESSONS LEARNED

But I think my real disappointment was that during our tasting's blind phase, I didn't guess correctly. I observed yet I let a favourable memory of the Niagara bottle and a distaste of American wine dictate my guesses. This was because I mistook the strength of oxidizing elements on the nose for the presence of high levels of alcohol. I was shocked to see this actually revealed as Niagara. It made prefect sense to the neutral bystander, and in hindsight. This wine was much older, and had my observations been interpreted correctly, I was there. But I was swayed despite -- perhaps paradoxically because of -- the fact that we were doing them blind.

Lesson 1: Blind tastings are best performed on bottles that you have not tasted before or you'll be tempted to outsmart your own blind observations with memory and personal response, which is quite disappointing because it defeats the whole purpose.

Or rather, in blind testings, it's best to forget the past. I think my tasting partner Joe had a firm handle on this aspect. He had tasted the Steltzner before. Experience is knowledge but it's synthesized knowledge -- be advised to leave out individual bottles experiences!

"No need to be disappointed," said Joe in the postmortem. "It shows that the blind worked, and you correctly separated the old world from the new." [It's true I did ID this and the other French wines correctly].

"The Canuck wine was a bit tired -- Cab Franc, probably from younger vines than all of the others, is not going to keep forever... note that the bottle to bottle variability probably increases over time. Your previous experience was eight months ago at the end of a wine's life -- perhaps not that much of a surprise they were quite different?" surmised Joe.

OTHER LESSON LEARNED

Lesson 2: Is it hard to keep track of wine consumption at a blind tasting while it is happening! I don't think I'll ever figure out a way to better keep track when there's so much set before me. Perhaps proper tasting glasses would help?

Lesson 3: Blind tastings with "table talk" can sway evaluation as much as "drinking the label" does in non-blind tastings. Joe and I had some table talk, but not much. We didn't discuss conclusions until the end. And besides, what little table talk there was had almost no effect since the wines were positioned blind as well as tasted blind. This prevented a shared order of wines between to the two of us so table talk comments could not be attributed to a particular wine and therefore sway tasting opinions.

Lesson 4: I did not assess colour in the tasting because I thought it would too easily reveal the wine, given the broad four-year gap in cuvée vintages. The lighting was also poor so I let Joe turn up the house lights while I put the final touches on dinner (see Joe's notes for proper scoring). But the fact is that the wines' colour didn't reveal much at all, no matter how hard I tried to read them.

Wine blog and day job, Apollo and Dionysius, rhythm and melody?

2007-11-02T09:56:00.001-04:00

Seeing the future from a bottle and the lines are increasingly ~~blurred~~ blurry

My experience wineblogging will occasionally assist my real job, but rarely has my day job ever directly helped out my wineblogging.

But then: this. This morning, a wine article called Music to drink wine by: Vintner insists music can change wine's flavors came right into my inbox at work.

It came to me not because of its stated relationship to wine -- not at all because of that, though in fact several of my colleagues now officially know I'm a wino. Rather, the news story came to me by virtue of it coincidentally mentioning my employer, which really has little to do with the actual story.

And thank goodness for that. Let's just sweep that association under the rug because this is either some whacked-out story about an eccentric winemaker named Clark Smith (pictured below) or the dawn of a new wine trend that's really going to make my head hurt.

Thinking about and taking tasting notes for the wine I drink usually hurts my head enough as it is. You try to keep wine appreciation honest by accurately deciphering aroma and flavour, length and weight and then food pairings come into the equation. All that is quite hard enough without factoring in and figuring out the various cerebral synapses firing that alter your perceptions when drinking. What this report suggests is that you've got to postulate whether a musical selection is going to hurt or hinder your ability to appreciate a particular wine. Well, can't my personal experience just be kept personal and leave it at that?

Not according to this. I won't even try to re-encapsulate it myself...

MUSIC TO DRINK WINE BY

A McGill study is cited in this San Francisco Chronicle article about whether wine tasting requires the same logical processing areas of the brain as listening to music. Research by Anne Blood and Robert Zatorre of McGill in 2001 showed that when subjects listen to music they enjoy, they activate pleasure centers of the brain.

"Smith's premise is that different music makes some wines taste better and others taste worse, and the great majority of tasters will agree with the "right" and "wrong" pairings regardless of their taste in wine or music. Moreover, it's not possible to record a generic "music to drink wine by" CD because a song that might make Pinot Noir taste great can make Cabernet Sauvignon taste awful. You have to pay attention to individual music and wine pairings.

He's only getting started, but he already has made some surprising, counterintuitive discoveries in an area of wine taste-testing that didn't even exist until he created it. [Hmmm... is this last line delivered with skepticism or celebration?]

(Blood and Zatorre did not respond to a request for comment on Smith's theories.)"

I wonder why the scientists aren't rushing to comment?

I was. I commented before I even could post this entry, which offers the unique opportunity to blockquote myself:

Although Smith makes some attractive ideas salable here (many people, including myself, have likened a wine's elements to musicality), I still felt strangely uncomfortable while reading this. Uncomfortable, until I realized there was a voice of reason at the end of this article that was easy to latch onto: Kermit Lynch's. I don't think I want my brain to know about my brain, especially when I drink wine to kick back and relax!

So the question is: Are the lines that Smith has drawn blurred because of the converging forces affecting the minutiae of our lives which he then tries to scientifically explain away or are those lines just blurry because the guy has drunk himself off his rocker? I ask you.

How to wash the wine glasses you most cherish (One man's story of tough love turned ghastly)

2007-10-30T13:12:00.000-04:00

Holy busted blind Riedels, Batman!

Hallowe'en won't be the same without my trusty pair of "trick or treat" stemless blind tasting glasses to raise my spirits.

Luckily I still have one glass left to drink with but as my friend Johanna, who brought these Riedels back from Austria for me, said: what's the point of tasting with only one blind tasting glass? You need at least two to generate intrigue. Just like you need more than one guest at a masquerade.

Even in shambles, my blind Riedel showed its beauty, its charm, its form and its function. No matter how I reconstructed the crime scene, this was one tough wine glass to read: The dark, nearly-black-but-kind-of-purplish glass masked its contents so well that's practically impossible to photograph the inside of its bowl, even with great lighting shining directly into it.

The black hole is such an apt metaphor for wine appreciation in my house.

THE SCENE OF THE CRIME

Pose it and repose it as I may, the actual events leading up to my Riedel's demise confound me. I know fully well what happened but I have a hard time admitting it actually came to pass. The glass died in my own hands as a result of my own tough love -- harsh, abrasive and spotlessly clean.

Yes, I broke this glass washing it, something I hadn't done to a wine glass since my Spiegelau Spätburgunder glass bit the dust several years ago.

The problem is that washing stemware has a learning curve. Until you master it, you're on shaky ground. Once you master it, you're laughing. Laughing until stemless glasses come out and shake things up. Then you've got to rethink your whole approach.

HOW TO WASH YOUR FINE CRYSTAL (WITH STEMS ONLY)

The way I see it, stems are the easiest part of the glass to break yet the most integral part of the glass to prevent breakage, especially when washing up. Here's what I mean:

The trick when washing is to grasp the bowl of the glass with your two forefingers and your thumb. This way you do not to apply any direct or twisting pressure to the fragile stem. If you do, the image at left reveals the results (as you can see a wine glass with a snapped stem offers a unique opportunity to introduce a fancy candle snuffer/one heck of an expensive dust cover to you household, so it's not all bad).

But there's more! Grasping the bowl is sometimes not enough. Sudsy water can be slippery so I always hook my baby finger around the stem loosely. A good finger curl anchors the delicate process of washing (and drying too) and secures the glass should the bowl ever slip from your busy fingers and thumb.

Obviously, stemless glasses do not allow this. They lack this kind of forgiving component. Since there's no stem, more pressure ends up being applied to the bowl and rim to garner that same sense of kitchen-sink security, or in my case, my over-protective nature and...

Snap! Oh the irony!

Lesson 1: Don't smother the things you love so that the fear of losing them is what ultimately drives them away.

Lesson 2: [insert instructions on how to wash stemless glasses here]

There's no caffeine in Muscadet

2007-10-29T07:06:00.000-04:00

The way I start out my day seldom changes, yet for some reason this morning it suddenly seemed blogworthy.

I make coffee. Here it comes...

An unassuming enough of a start to one's day, you'd think. But actually, really really blogworthy...

Organic vs conventional! Fair trade vs direct trade! Caffeinated vs decaf! Espresso in a shot vs espresso in a cup!? Just pick your talking point.

To make my espresso-based latte-macchiato hybrid that I drink, I use these beans. They are made by Intelligentsia Coffee and Tea, a coffee importer.

I have other coffee in my cupboard ... this one... this one... and I even forgot I had this one.

I usually bypass them unless I've run out of freshly roasted Intelligentsia. But today I realize that all these coffee labels remind me a lot of wine labels. They're less a manufacturer's smacked-on trademark and more a tribute to the grapes and beans that go into it.

And while overly processed bread, dairy and fruit preserves drive me nuts, I don't seem to mind consuming processed foodstuffs when it comes to wine and coffee. Maybe that's because each one undergoes a substantial transformation -- they require significant craftmanship and some exact science before they can become acceptably drinkable. So it's the non-transformative processed food I avoid: industrial fish sticks and other frozen dinners and prepared foods that are overpackaged conveniences -- which really only seem to replicate the easier kitchen tasks I can perform without much effort, and usually, with better results.

I suppose I could try roasting my own coffee. A couple of years ago I made the leap to grinding my own coffee beans (even though it's only a blade, not a mill, grinder) and that paid off nicely for me, including this morning, as you can see.

I'm nowhere near taking on winemaking.

ORGANIC VERSUS CONVENTIONAL AGRICULTURE

I feel the first talking point coming on.... Another reason I don't mind consuming processed items like wine and coffee is because they are both involved in a positive labeling endeavour. During WLW 1 (Wine Label Week), I saw that labels don't need to be obscure sources of information once you know what you are looking at. And new label designations based on environmental certifications for organic or biodynamic farming -- Terra Vitis, Eco-Cert, Demeter, etc -- are generally being conveyed clearly to the consumer. These are good developments.

Coffee is similar to wine on being green and accountable to drinkers in how it obtains standards from a group called Fairtrade Labeling Organizations International, which sets rules on farming techniques, pesticides and recycling practices. The organization even has a program to encourage children of farmers to stay enrolled in school, so the initiative is obviously based on more than how food is cultivated but on equity practices too, which are primarily concerned with the condition of the farmer and his laborers.

Like wine, coffee is certified through visits to farmers to verify that they are meeting the criteria that bar, among other things, the use of child labor and harmful chemicals.

FAIR VERSUS DIRECT TRADING

So, like wine, some coffees can carry the organic label. On the whole, also like wine, most are still not certified. At the risk of sounding like a cop-out, sometimes you can rely on and trust in the brand name you endorse. Intelligentsia is that trusted brand name that appears on the label. Even when no official green certification is there, I buy Intelligentsia. Because while they are actually not a "fairtrade" certified company, they are a reputable "direct" trader.

That's because Intelligentsia has spoken out. They have said that fair trade coffee is as exploitive as the conventional kind, especially in countries that produce the highest-quality beans -- like Colombia, Ethiopia and Guatemala.

"Fair trade farmers there are barely paid more than their counterparts in Brazil, though their crops become gourmet brands, selling for a hefty markup, said Geoff Watts, vice president for coffee at Intelligentsia."

Full details in this business article in the New York Times.

CAFFEINATED VERSUS DECAFFEINATED COFFEES

Speaking of the New York Times, a Yahoo! feature on caffeine pointed to a NYT blog post which in turn pointed to my blog via one of the comments I left. As a result, my hits went absolutely through the roof -- more than a hundred visitors were on my site at once and 800 visits for the day total. I could post these record-setting charts and stats but I myself was going through the roof at the time too, so I'd rather talk about that.

Basically, coffee is a broad term and the coffee I drink and the coffee Tara Parker-Pope writes about in her NYT blog called Well about are not the same thing. She reported on drip coffee caffeine levels and then ran a photo of an espresso-based coffee. These are not the same types of coffee, especially when it comes to caffeine level.

In her Well blog, Parker-Pope acknowledged my issue with this in saying that "You are correct that per serving, espresso (which is served in shots rather than cups) typically does have less caffeine than drip coffee."

ESPRESSO IN A SHOT VERSUS ESPRESSO IN A CUP!?

But espresso is espresso is espresso. It doesn't matter if an espresso shot is served in a cup with milk as a cappuccino, or if it's served solo in a shot. It's still a single espresso, and it'll have the same level of caffeine no matter where it is.

There is a reason I am making a point about how different espresso is. The image attached to this caffeine story as it made the rounds through the media is clearly a an espresso-based beverage -- a cappuccino or similar artisanal coffee from the looks of its latte art on the top. Cappuccinos and other artisanal coffees like macchiatos and lattes, are the combination of a shot of espresso and varying amounts of warmed milk. Cappuccinos therefore have the same low level of caffeine as the espresso shot it is made with. But most importantly, cappuccinos by their very definition are not drip coffees, which are brewed and which are more heavily caffeinated. Yet a drip coffee is not the image chosen for this damning report on some drip coffees -- specifically the problematic levels of caffeine in drip decaf.

Why place an illustration of a non-drip coffee beverage under the headline? And why a beverage that uses a single shot of espresso which has LESS caffeine (as low as 30 mg) than a cup of Dunkin' Donuts drip decaf (as high as 32 mg)? Clearly, it's because image sells and a pretty one will draw more interest than brown, watery and lifeless decaf. Those readers who don't care about caffeine will visit just to see the dazzling latte art. Those readers who do care about caffeine levels will visit to analyze their coffee intake. In both cases, readers leave with an false association of artisanal coffee and high caffeine.

I think this is shoddy journalism by the New York Times and they should be more upfront about the photos they choose to run.

Cappuccino, which when made by a real barista, looks better, tastes better and actually is better for you on the caffeine front than the unattractive brews festering in decaf coffee pots. But based on the warning-alert nature of the headline and its accompanying image, it's the attractive espresso-based coffee that undeservingly receives the black mark, not the black decaf, the ugly fast-food swill that is actually the problem.

And once again, the media circus health report sets out on the wrong foot and potentially does more harm than good.

Muscadet madness continues! Chateau de la Ragotière, SAQ tasting and complimentary oysters

2007-10-25T11:54:00.000-04:00

This is my fourth consecutive Muscadet post and it still might not be the last.

Now that months with Rs are gearing up to full speed, oysters are increasingly in season. And where there are good oysters, there are of course Muscadets to be had, including at this event, which is tomorrow (Friday).

These two wines are both worth checking out and scooping up. We're talking seriously good values. My buddy Bill's got the word on the Ragotière Muscadet (looking forward to trying it myself for the first time) and I had the Vin de pays Ragotière Chardonnay this afternoon. It's a lovely varietal with real character and a light deft touch. Very soft and elegantly enticing with finesse not common for a VdP varietal at the $13 pricepoint.

Ragotière is welcome addition to my list of strong value wines from unheralded French designations. You can see blog labels like Unoaked European Wine, Organic Wine/Food, or many of the appellations found in the sidebar for more great values. Or search this site for "vin de pays" for an overall view of VdP bargains.

A Muscadet made sur lie has never been a muscadet that's made me this surly

2007-10-24T21:37:00.000-04:00

Where I live there are eight different producers of Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine on the market. I've tried six of them -- seven by tomorrow -- and, by virtue of this turning into an unofficial Muscadet week around here, I'm on track to tasting all eight by the weekend. Yet I'm already prepared to say that there is only one Muscadet to avoid in the province. And it's a tricky shapeshifting Muscadet. It can look like this (left) or like this (right):

Being a shapeshifter is what makes this wine not so hot.

I posted about three good Muscadet Sur Lie bottles on Monday. All of them -- Donatien Bahuaud's 2003 Le Master, Sauvion's 2005 Château du Cléray and Chéreau Carré's 2006 Réserve Numerotée -- are great values and representative of the AOC Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine mark. Add to Monday's proceedings the bottle above, a masked Muscadet: the dreaded Remy Pannier Muscadet, issued, I now discover, by the Remy Pannier Ackerman conglomerate. They suggested it was aged on lees on some 2006 bottles (at right, with Sur Lie etched in the glass), but not Sur Lie on others (left, a cuvée they decide to anoint as Vallée des Jardins 2006).

The bottles and their labels look nothing alike. You can click on the images to enlarge them and see. It took a bar code scanner and some assistance from an SAQ employee to figure out that these seemingly different bottles held exactly the same wine. Whether that wine is sur lie or not is anybody's guess.

Whether a wine is "sur lie" and aged on its lees is not required wine label information. But it does determine where the vintner must bottle his wine: that place is exactly where the wine was made. Yet Remy Pannier's Sur Lie is bottled nowhere near Sévre et Maine in Loire Atlantique, the place that the Muscadet appellation specifies that all grapes must come from. The bottle factory is some two hours down a highway into the centre of France, almost as far away from the sea as you can get and still be in France. Here's a potential route the grapes unnecessarily take inland (1 hr, 49 min):

View Larger Map

View Larger Map

So once the Melon de Bourgogne grapes from Loire Altantique arrive in St-Florent -- the land of Chenin and Sauvignon -- Remy Pannier's winemaking process begins several French départements east of Muscadet's homeland, which is centred around the city of Nantes.

Perhaps I'm being a bit romantic in my disapproval of Remy Pannier. It's true I make no exception for industrial wine and avoid it the best I can. Overly processed foodstuffs not only increase carbon footprints, but they generally are not wise buys either. As it happened, my Remy Pannier -- Remy Pannier Vallée des Jardins Val de Loire Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine 2006 -- features tasting notes that were neutrally written up because I took them down before I knew this wine was bottled so far from where its grape were grown:

No varietal character, like the strangely generic Burgundy bottle might suggest. It lacks a saline component and has little minerality, mostly thin sour edges reminiscent of slightly oxidized Sauvignon. I can hardly believe this is the Melon grape.

Today I returned this wine, not only because its contents were substandard but also because the label information, though confusing and contradictory to its alter ego Sur Lie bottle, reveals itself as an inferior industrially manufactured wine product.

Furthermore, consumers should know that this is the only Muscadet sold at the SAQ that is not produced in the Nantais region. You don't buy Chianti from Capri, why would you buy Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine from Saumur Champigny?

Here is the concept of quality behind Muscadet Sur Lie winemaking -- a concept that clearly holds sense of place at its centre, which is what Remy Pannier Ackerman is missing:

Bottling wine Sur Lie is an ancient bottling technique used in the Nantais. After fermentation, the Muscadet wine remains on its lees (expired yeast cells) for at least the winter and is bottled straight from the vat where it was fermented... This process gives the wine more freshness and there is often a slight prickle of carbon dioxide which helps protect the wine from oxidation. Muscadet Sevre-et-Maine Sur Lie has more flavour as contact with the lees adds to the richness of the wine and enables it to be aged longer. By law, Sur Lie wine may only be bottled in the cellar where it was made, protecting and ensuring the quality of the wine.

St-Hilaire St-Florent, France. 11.5%.

For the wino who ever thought he might be too pretentious, someone's always got a bigger party tube

2007-10-23T19:12:00.000-04:00

Today my wineblog got its first complimentary copy. It came to my office in a yellow padded envelope and I pulled it out on the bus that took me home tonight.

It made me happy to suddenly have a book to look at because it had been a long day with unforeseen public transit delays. And since I was supposed to be researching an unresolved wine tasting issue mentioned in my last post, I was thrilled to have this book in my fidgeting hands, a book all about wine no less.

So I open Wine & Philosophy, original essays edited by Fritz Allhoff and subtitled as a Symposium on ~~Eating~~Thinking and Drinking. Okay, now I get it. Cerebral. Abstract. Yesterday's Muscadet tasting notes which concluded with a "sur lie" conundrum -- a puzzle over what its presence on a bottle means and what it doesn't mean -- was clearly not going to be resolved by this book.

Nevertheless after flipping through quickly, I dive into the sturdy softcover by paging to the Muscadet reference listed in the index. It's in chapter thirteen, which as if by a stroke of bad luck, started with this sentence: "In the popular mind, wine tasting has often been thought of as a subjective, idiosyncratic experience, masquerading behind a false façade of expertise."

What? ...masquerading behind a false façade of expertise? That's ornery. But what made me stop short should have done to the copy editor. A false façade? The word façade in this sense is by its very definition "a deceptive or articifial face," so couldn't we say façades are always false?

Soon the essay had moved on to Kant and I began to glance around the bus furtively. Was anyone reading over my shoulder? Were passengers looking askance? I could picture them, students mostly, snickering at such a grandiose evaluation of the elitist and trendy pastime, one that I have a hand in -- with verbose writing to boot!

I'll concede that I panic easily and don't read (or ride buses) often. In any case, my worry of being ostracized proved entirely needless. A student in black jeans and Chuck Taylor Allstars had just sat down beside me with a Riedel Party Tube set of four wine glasses -- one of those long capped cylinders used to sell and transport fine crystal -- also stylishly swaddled in black. Exactly this if you need a picture. I'm assuming it still had the prohibitively expensive glasses inside and he hadn't re-purposed it for his architecture homework.

I think I stared too longingly at his Riedels too long and he caught me looking. All of a sudden, I was the plebe on this wine appreciation bus.

And realizing that, I went back to my book, and the writing got much, much better. I was really getting into the well-constructed arguments but then my stop was next. I flipped directly to the page with the Muscadet reference, page 218.

Because of the way a wine of a particular style registers on the palate as one proceeds through the ingesting stages, one can prescribe how one should taste the wine. For example, a white wine like a Muscadet from France's western Loire presents itself as a light crisp taste that is followed by a middle range of mineral qualities. It is a wonderful wine with shellfish because it cleanses the palate without dominating the subtle tastes of the seafood. Food and wine complement each other. To taste the wine expecting great complexity and a long evolving finish would be to misperceive the wine's functional character.

That's a juicy paragraph. It's the second from last in the essay, which is by Kevin W. Sweeney and is titled "Is There Coffee or Blackberry in My Wine?" and I promise I will finish it as well as the rest of the book so that I can it give a proper review. Soon.

But next I've got to get to the bottom of the sur lie situation.

Sur lie or not sur lie? Le Master de Donatien 2003, Château du Cléray Haute Culture Réserve 2005 & 2006, Chéreau Carré 2006, Remy Pannier 2006

2007-10-22T10:00:00.001-04:00

Three things you ought to know about Muscadets: they are a style of white wine made in the Atlantic Loire region and not the name of a grape variety; they are never allowed to be more than 12% alc./vol; they are at their best when designated as a "Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine sur lie" (and beware: since Muscadets come in all manner of packaging with bottles running a gamut of silly shapes and sizes, and even featuring mesh netting that cling to Muscadets like the wicker that encases those Old World wine jugs, pay extra attention to the label designation rather than being swayed by appearances).

And, oh yeah, they are very refreshing.

Yesterday we picnicked in the unusual 23-degree warmth, extending what seems to be an Indian Summer for Montreal. Today's high is 24 degrees and while I won't be reaching for a Muscadet (I've had my fill of them recently), I can recommend ways to separate the good from the bad should you be in the mood for this distinctive type of wine tonight.

TOP THREE MUSCADETS UNDER $15

Starting from the left, the first wine of five different bottles tasted is the most aged (and most expensive) wine. It's the Le Master de Donatien Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie 2003. Click on the bottle for full product details. As a special note, I've seen this item reduced in price at many SAQ locations -- in fact I don't think I've ever purchased this wine at full price!

Even at its regular retail price, I consider Donatien a good buy. Characteristic Muscadet flavours with something extra, softer, and a markedly creamy aspect to its fruit component. "Sur lie" means the wine has been aged on its lees -- a process that lets the wine's flavours deepen to an often heightened level of creaminess or savouriness. It's not always remarkable in sur lie wines, but I find it in this one. Sur lie is appropriate for a 2003 Muscadet. The 2003 vintage is about as old as you get for most retailers and "sur lie" ageing is favourable for extending the cellar life of a wine.

But what's characteristic Muscadet? Next are two names that provide useful examples. Moving in order to the right are the Château du Cléray Haute Culture Réserve Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie 2005 (yes Muscadet names can get quite lengthy -- I didn't even include the maker name, which is Sauvion, in the title) followed by the Chéreau Carré Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie 2006.

These two wines instantly place you in Muscadetland. In particular, the nose of Chéreau Carré transported me. It smells of the sea. Briny but fresh on the nose and on the palate there's wet stone and flowers with diesely tones. It's marked by a clean, crisp finish that lesser Muscadets lack.

The Château du Cléray is linear and firm, mineral and steely. It's the perfect accompaniment to oysters and fresh seafood platters. Both of these carry across the Melon de Bourgogne grape variety well (the grape of Muscadet is actually a cousin of Chardonnay). They are expressive, slightly bitter but not sour, and fairly complex, perhaps because of each one's commitment to bottle their wine after ageing on lees.

TASTING BANANAS

Unfortunately, something went awry for Château du Cléray Haute Culture Réserve Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie 2006, the current vintage. It delivers a strong tinge of banana when you drink it. The 2005, if you can still find it on store shelves, is much better. The 2007s won't appear to replace the 2006s until next spring, at the earliest.

At first I thought the banana aroma would eventually waft away and was just a lingering remnant of the lees. I waited to see if it would blow off with some time. It didn't. Even tasting it against the 2005 on the following night, I could still isolate the 2006 as the banana notes were quite still pronounced. I had brought the 2006 back out of the fridge for tasting and uncorked the 2005 version, poured them both and then went at them blind to keep me honest. Verdict: I only got banana off one and it was revealed as the 2006.

To me, this determined a few things. My palate wasn't just acting up on a particular evening, but also that the a banana aroma is not a sulphuric attribute of the wine that can lift away. Also, favouring the 2005 lends credence to the idea that some Muscadets, especially when made "sur lie," are drunk much quicker than they need to be.

But where does the so-called banana aroma come from? This reminded me of what Eric Asimov wrote recently, equally as inconclusive, on the topic of Beaujolais:

...It was the product of a selected yeast, the notorious 71B, that was widely used in the heyday of Beaujolais nouveau's popularity. But some vignerons say the banana smell comes from carbonic maceration rather than a particular strain of yeast. And one told me it was simply a characteristic of the gamay grape regardless of the yeast used. I don't smell it very often, but it's striking when I do notice it.

HITTING ROCK'S BOTTOM

Finally, last, and in this case, least is the Remy Pannier Muscadet-Sèvre et Maine 2006. I bought this wine because I thought it was sur lie. Was I losing my mind? Click on this bottle image to see that this bottle is listed as a "sur lie" at the SAQ.

I suppose I wouldn't care that this wine is not made on its lees had it been any good. Is wasn't. It lacked the freshness and the typical refreshing attack. No stony grip, no mineral sparkle. Was it oxidized? I am taking this one back to where I bought it for an explanation because it really isn't up to snuff. But maybe there is more to this story. [There is: my updated investigation and tasting notes are now up.]

Until I get to the bottom of this, check out these tasting notes for Remy Pannier Muscadet that I found online. These notes are what is written on the back label of the 2006 bottle, verbatim!

It turns out that the owner of the above wineblog is a professional tasting writer. Neat! Even though she wrote about the 2003 vintage (which by the way doesn't exactly sound like a knock-your-socks-off bottle either based on her rating system) the legacy lives on for the successive vintages. Immortalized wino!

Donatien Bahuaud, La Chapelle-Heulin; La Seigneurie du Cléray - Sauvion, "Éolie," Vallet; Bernard Chéreau, Chasseloir, Saint-Fiacre | Loire-Atlantique, France. 12%.

(Full details on the Remy Pannier to come next...)

Indian Summer: Revisiting San Quirico 2005 (Saint Quinine or "San Chinino")

2007-10-19T07:26:00.000-04:00

Indian Summer is beginning in Montreal. Temperatures went up to 18 degrees yesterday and promise to hit 23 degrees today. The weekend and Monday should reach 20 degrees - 10 degrees above normal. When the temps climb so abnormally this late in the year, it's called Indian Summer.

Indian Summers makes me want to drink white wine and I've actually got a more notes on them than the reds lately. I clearly need to clear out from the passing season. First though, another look at San Quirico Vernaccia di San Gimignano 2005 which was my favourite drink of summer.

It's no wonder I wanted to take a long summer Vernaccia when there's wine as refreshing and regenerative as this. In fact, this bottle I got while on vacation in New York over July and August, which explains the label being different from the previous one. It's the same vintage and still is the same wine inside -- that magic combination of fennel and flat ginger ale with a citrus twist.

This wine is usually low in alcohol with a bitterness that only acts to further mask any kind of heat. Very minerally, very wet stone, which I love, but really not vinous at all, which a lot of winos might not like much. It's practically a lemon lime seltzer, but it'd be the most exquisite soda you've had -- something that only New York City seltzer can seem to offer. (How appropriate the NYC connection is because Quebec only sells one single bottle of Vernaccia -- the more inhibited Rocca Delle Macie... I think I've come to associate this wine with New York for its supply as well as the seltzer standpoint.)

In revisiting this wine I deciphered another one of its interesting elements, a characteristic I can only link to quinine, that essential bitter ingredient in tonic water. (I called this wine regenerative -- it's no wonder it's like a tonic!) It kind of makes the sides of your mouth get all dry and pucker in the same way a bitter tannin would. Yet there's no tannins in this wine, and it's not even barreled in wood. So does this wine contain quinine? I can only think of quinine having a similar effect when there's no tannin or wood involved.

But wait! Quinine, it turns out, is actually a little bit of both. But first a bit of history...

Quinine was part of a refreshing beverage that was born of another kind of Indian summer -- summers in India at a time when fighting malaria had a enjoyable treatment and prevention method. Of course I'm talking about gin and tonics. It was the quinine in tonic water that was the effective medicine against malaria then and the story goes that the British and the Indians added gin to their quinine-filled water to reduce quinine's bitterness, hence the birth of the gin and tonic.

Even after other anti-malaria medicine were developed in the 1920s, India kept drinking, becoming the first place where people enjoyed the unique properties of quinine in a non-medicinal way.

So what's the tannic/wood connection to quinine, and perhaps to this wine? Well, although the Indian summer might have been where perfect quinine refreshment was discovered, it was during an Incan summer way back in Peru of 1817 when French scientists harvested bark of the Cinchoa tree in Peru to discover the alkaline organic substance which was known as Quina-Quina by locals. It came to be called quinine, taking the name from what the Incans named the bark -- "holy bark" -- and rightly so because the stuff was a medicinal wonder, though very bitter-tasting. Quinine is tannin. Quinine is wood! Or least a part thereof.

And I find it every bit the perfect coincidence that before quinine was successfully harvested from trees in South America it was originally used as a tonic. This was way back in 1600s where it was found in the swamps around Rome -- not far from San Gimignano, the indigenous home and virtually sole growing area for the vernaccia grape. Hmmm... is this how vernaccia gets its quinine-like profile? In Italy today quinine is known as "Chinino" (and if I want to stretch the connection, this wine is known as "Quirico," a placename that quite similar-sounding, though I have almost zero knowledge of Italian).

But back to the real Quirico here: There's something about the quinine-like edge and lack of vinousness in this wine that makes it special, whatever the chemistry might be.

For instance, this wine is the perfect -- scratch that -- the only wine that can be paired with a salad dressed in vinaigrette. Try Vernaccia with a salad like this and you'll be amazed as I was. It's a match! (Most wine isn't supposed to be paired with any vinegar-based accompaniments, ever.)

recipe for vinaigrette

four teaspoons olive oil
three teaspoons rice vinegar
one teaspoon amontillado sherry or other dry sherry
salt and pepper to taste

Combine ingredients in a small bowl and stir rapidly until emulsified. Pour on washed, spun-dry lettuce or mustard greens in a large salad bowl. Mix to coat thoroughtly using your hands (also washed, but not spun-dry).

SAQ.com online vendor knows I'm making a wine mistake before I can even buy that bottle

2007-10-17T08:36:00.000-04:00

Does someone know something I don't?

Ever since the SAQ launched its crisp newly redesigned site that now permits user accounts, I seem to be persona non grata. I am always making invalid requests. Bad, bad requests. Like beyond Baby Duck, like the other side of YellowTail.

Is this profiling? Can't be. I don't even have an account on their site.

Still I make error after error, though I'm told and I should try again. Hmmm... It started when I was querying white wine in a cute travel-sized minibottle from Celliers des Dauphins. Blank stares. Did the SAQ dump that wine out so the dépanneurs could carry it? How about another Rhône that I know they sell. Perrin Réserve. Still nothing.

OK. Michel Juillot Mercurey... Nope. Allegrini Valpolicella? No. A Château Meunier St-Louis? Not that either. How about the Torus Madiran from Alain Brumont... I just bought it from the SAQ last week so it must be there... please? Denied.

OFFING A FAUX-PAS WINE BEFORE A WINE FAUX-PAS IS IN THE OFFING

This is particularly unfortunate for me because every wine I've reviewed on this site is currently linking to a bad request -- even the great value wines and wines of the year, not just prickly young Portuguese reds that I'd advise are wines to avoid until the next vintages appear.

Furthermore, I've recently redoubled my efforts to link to products from the SAQ online catalogue since the redesign by recoding all my URLs. They previously pointed to bottle listings within the SAQ.com database but when SAQ.com 2.0 was laucnched none of the old links continued to navigate to the right place. I'd like my readers to get to right place, and the new SAQ.com database listing, when you can actually get there is quite a swell place to peruse wine.

But for the third time in the last week, it seems the entire SAQ.com catalogue brings errors, making me think that I may have made more than a few of my own.

If someone knows something about this, let me know now before I finish recoding all my clickable bottle images that are featured in each Weingolb review.

The glass with red wine holds the answer to a mystery

2007-10-15T08:51:00.000-04:00

Here's a fun wine decoder trick you can try. I found it buried in the bottom of my inbox during a recent email clean-up en masse.

This handy tip was sent to me from a coworker I used to work with. I had no idea he ever drank wine, never mind that he could appreciate wine with such versatility and creativity, and at the same time demonstrate the practical nature that keeps the best wine drinkers from extinction, i.e. budget-mindedness.

Though it's an old message, I doubt the techniques he describes below will ever cease to solve the puzzle in question here. No, it's a not the common puzzle of how to decode a wine label with all its various and often highly obscure information -- for that please take a look at last month's Wine Label Week.

Nevertheless the trick below may enlighten more than a few winos out there.

(By the way, check the enterprising last line that my ex-coworker writes -- you've got to love it. Who hasn't wanted to make a little profit from whatever kind of oenological specialty or secret wine knowledge you have come to wield as a wino?)

It is summer and I am in high spirits so I am sending you a message that might save you some money.

Everybody probably has those Ultramar coupons that give you secret discounts. The trouble is how can you tell which ones are a dollar and which ones are 75 cents. Obviously you would like to use the dollar ones before you lose them.

Here comes the red wine. If you look through the open end of the glass through the red wine at the coupon, the red of the wine will filter out the red covering on the blue writing. Furthermore looking through the wine glass will magnify your secret discount denomination also.

If you don't drink, send me a bottle of wine and I will be happy to read them for you.

SNAKSHOT: Filet of fish and Quinta de Cabriz Reserva 2003 meet for dinner

2007-10-12T08:33:00.000-04:00

This was a fantastic meal prepared by my sister and her boyfriend on April 2, 2007, already a half-year ago but still strongly etched in my mind.

It wasn't Easter dinner but it was a very sophisticated dinner, yet stunningly simple in execution. Lucky me -- I got to watch, and point my camera.

When I arrived for dinner, the strong smell of soy sauce met my nose. In the kitchen, fish fillets were marinating in a baking dish. The aroma was pungent and I got the idea of offering a pairing by way of one the Portuguese wines I brought with me.

The final dinner preparations were made as I nibbled and shared a Cheverny aperatif that I knew would be just my sister's style of wine and it was. I was more apprehensive when it came to selling a sturdy Portuguese Reserva with such a very white fish. But in the end, my Quinta de Cabriz Reserva Dão 2003 made perfect sense since the Portuguese diet is replete with heavily flavoured fish dishes, be they charred, smoked, grilled or broiled.

Our fish went into the salamander under the oven and was cooked to perfection. You can see this in the photo above, and how the tasty marinade worked its way into the fish flesh, generating a big flavour punch to the palate. A punch that my wine could stand up to and flatter as an accompaniment. And yes, even a blood orange garnish wasn't enough to throw off this wine, though you wouldn't except much from pairing a red with some citrus. Yet the signature profile of spice and orange confit in many good Portuguese wines permits this match too.

There was a gasoline-y note in this wine that some might call tarry or mineral. It coats the tongue in a certain way. You know it was you taste it. The assertive treatment for the fish penetrated this effect of the wine and then proceeded to dazzle the tongue with its own "umami" seasoning -- something I don't think my more restrained and elegant wine from WBW 38 would have allowed the food do as well because it is so much softer.

The Cabriz Reserva, which is composed of Alfrocheiro, Touriga Nacional and Tinta Roriz indigenous grape varieties also offered strong berry fruit with palpable acidity to cozy up to the creamy pasta side and make some nice contrasts. But all I can really say is that we lucked out, because this was not only the first time I uncorked this bottle, but the first time I had ever seen it. I bought it at the LCBO moments before I walked through their door.

I love Portuguese wine.

Thanks to those who inspired this post: Ryan and Gabrielle of Catavino who hosted WBW 38 on such a great and ripe topic; Sonadora whose compliments on my dinner photos got me to go over a long-neglected food photo album; BrooklynGuy whose interest in deciphering these red blends put me into a pairing-analysis mood; and finally to Kristen and to John for their totally memorable dinner. It was a treat! Cheers.

WBW #38 Portuguese table wines: Quinta dos Roques Reserva 2003

2007-10-10T07:49:00.000-04:00

Note on the terminology of WBW 38. "Table wine," in its broadest and most international sense, is wine of average alcoholic strength rather than those strengthened by the addition of alcohol, like fortified wines. But throughout most of the EU, "table wine" is a category of wine that has no official classification. For these wines, a vintage and a designation (like the Dão D.O.C. designation from Portugal that we see below) are not included in the labeling information. Furthermore, in Portugal, "table wine" might be construed as an "IPR" or Indicação de Proveniencia Regulamentada, which is a designation secondary to the top-tier D.O.C. system. WBW 38 is clearly focused on Portuguese wine other than Port wine or, in other words, those specified by the international definition of table wines -- simply the wines you'd find at the dinner table, and in that sense it is "table wine." Nevertheless, on these web pages, table wine is regularly used to indicate the EU/French definition. On these pages, WBW 38 wines would not be referred to instead as "table wine," and SAQ.com suggests that they be called "meal wine" which is a suitable name because Portuguese wines are fantastic for pairing with food.

Big ups to Ryan and Gabriella at Catavino for organizing a Portuguese WBW. It definitely seems about time. These two bloggers are doing some serious justice to these wine regions by hosting a ton of great resources on their site and by inspiring winos everywhere to get out and taste the indigenous grapes of Portugal. Their web pages are very much worth checking out. They allowed me to get my hands on a definitive list of Denominations of Origin or Denominações de Origem -- the 25 wine designations that Portuguese wine carry as a seal of quality.

I didn't realize that there were that many D.O.C. designations in Portugal. While I am no stranger to wines that reach beyond the Douro -- the Ribatejo, the Alentejo, the Estremadura, Vinho Verde, Palmela and Dão -- it now appears obvious to me that the first country I would visit for its wine regions would be Portugal, hands down. I look forward to reading more WBW 38 entries on these wines of Portugal, that at their best are both tenacious and lovely.

My entry to this month's theme is a bottle I've been meaning to try for a long time. I wrote a bit about why I've been wanting to taste it here. See the notes below for what it actually tasted like. Overall I was surprised, no doubt because I don't recall ever opening a Portuguese wine at this pricepoint. ($30 is definitely what I would call the upper register of the range of my value wines, though a wine bargain can surely come with any price tag attached to it -- it just depends on what's inside.)

Quinta do Roques Reserva Dão 2003

Eyes: This looks like one of those unwieldy and heavy glass bottles -- yup, it is. I keep staring the bottle down but still note that the wine is not as darkly pigmented as I would expect. Somewhat mellowed red hues and no bright purplish tinge I was expecting. A silky smooth consistency.

Nose: Yum... This is typical. A spice box with notes of cooked bell pepper. When Portuguese wines carry Loire Cab Franc aromas, I know I'm in for something good. Some diesel comes through too. Over time, the nose on this wine gets warmer, more embracing yet complex. Subtle and not at all intense. This is some absolutely elegant nose perfume.

Mouth: Zesty orange rind and fruit compote flavours up front. Some characteristic attributes are present -- chocolate, cinnamon and gasoline -- and arranged in elegant proportions. Animal too? This is Portuguese elegance. Softly moves through to a nice middle and a lovely finish. Luscious medium body is unique and interesting, but somehow makes the length seem shorter. Acidity is a little less than lively, but present, which offers this wine a tremendous arc built around a reliable (but thoroughly integrated) tannic grip.

Stomach: Don't deny the stomach -- this is table wine or meal wine or whatever you want to call it, so bring on the bouffe. All of my tasting notes came alongside a simple dinner, pictured in this post. Without food, this wine was coming off unnecessarily vegetal and cold, strangely lacking intensity. Food makes it less austere and adds an attractive element of synergy.

With food of all types -- salty, savoury, bitter and sweet -- Quinta do Roques Reserva Dão 2003 makes your dining experience so much more than the sum of its parts. Try it with the sweetness of Grelot potatoes sliced and then boiled in chicken stock, served with a sprinkling of pickled olives and the saltiness they provide. Or have it with the mild flavours of pork cutlets broiled with thyme and lavender served on a savoury bed of caramelized onion with rosemary. Even the pungent and slightly bitter arugula salad tossed with dry-cooked mushrooms for added richness is heightened by a red wine like this.

Mangualde, Portugal. 13.5%.

Wine Label Week wrap-up, plus a 1945 Korbel and a 2003-2005 Brandolini

2007-10-08T06:17:00.000-04:00

No WLW is complete without a wrap-up, so this post includes a summary of the proceedings of the last week of September, the very first Wine Label Week aka WBW 1.

See bulleted items below for how wine labels are implemented (correctly, and unfortunately, incorrectly). But rather than ending WLW on a cynical note, I'd like to emphasize the comments and emails I received. Many visitors left insightful comments, which is great -- I appreciate them and give thanks for them. One visitor even sent me a photo of his most prized label from 1945, which is cool because I was waiting for a reason to run my favourite label. (Thanks Joe!)

NEW SAQ ENABLES THE LABELS

People are interested in wine labels. I think there's a new trend toward valuing data like what is presented on the wine label. In fact, the SAQ -- the state-run wine distributor in Quebec -- has just redesigned its website to allow for a greater focus on wine labeling information. This means expanded information on current vintages of the bottles detailed on saq.com profile pages. And they increasingly include images of bottles and their labels.

I applaud this -- though the SAQ redesign means the hyperlinks on my site which used to navigate to inidividual wine profiles at saq.com no longer work. I will have re-code them one by one. Please bear with me as I redirect links to the spiffy new SAQ listings. At the very least, this tedious process will allow me to start pointing to the English pages at saq.com, something I was unable to do before, but as demonstrated below, can now do!

Here are a couple of favourite wine labels from WLW 1 -- a personal fave of mine and Joe's favourite label, which attaches to the oldest bottle he owns, a 1945 Korbel Brut! Click on each label image to be linked into the brand new SAQ profile pages for even more labeling information for these wines.

Whoops, actually the SAQ carries neither of these wines. Too bad.

A SUMMARY OF WINE LABEL WEEK

Wine labels exist to convey important information about bottle contents, not the least of which is a wine's designation, critically acting as a kind of quality assurance system

A breakdown and analysis of label information was introduced on Monday

Labels, which allow a winemakers to market their wares better than almost anything else, can actually be an expensive undertaking and considering their cost, they are surprisingly not always perfect

In investigating labels on Tuesday and Wednesday, we saw mistakes or incorrect information, namely alcohol by volume (abv) discrepencies on the label that indicated levels beyond tolerance:

In terms of discrepancies between the actual abv of the liquid and that stated on the label, in Europe the abv on the label must rounded up or down to a whole or half percent. So if the wine is 13.1%, the producer can choose to label it as 13% or 13.5%. In the EU, a label that states the more exact 13.1% would be illegal, presumably for some bizarre bureaucratic reason. The tolerance for sparkling wine is 0.8% in the EU. NB these tolerances are lower than in many other countries, including South Africa, Australia and the US (for wines produced and sold in those countries).

- Julia Harding, from the forum at JancisRobinson.com, where participants noted that the label expense often encourage winemakers to use labels from previous vintages with crucial updates made to the information that deviates from year to year, but these changes are corrected on the label with varying degrees of success.
The promotional elements of a label may be nice to look at or read, and they can affect your perception of a wine but ultimately judging a wine by its label can be a very difficult task

On Thursday, label details and especially prettied-up labels were acknowledged to influence shoppers and even evaluators, which is one reason blind tastings exist.

You can glean other things from the tradition and customs involved in labeling

The absence of a vintage label on Friday led to interesting assumptions about a wine's origin.

All in all, wine label information is serious business. Virtually all New World wines are labeled by grape variety but it's illegal to label a wine with a certain variety when it is actually another. Equally Old World wines can be fraudulent for falsely appropriating a wine designation and this has been in the news recently for misrepresentation.

And if you're wondering why my favourite wine label -- it's the one with the heart -- seems to be misrepresenting by neither specifying a wine designation, a grape variety or a vintage year, it's because the wine has none of those things: A blend of three grapes harvested over three years (hence the name "Treanni") by a winemaker that needs no designation. Friuli's Conte Brandolini d'Adda is the future of wine labeling because its singular and artful approach is all you need to know to buy its wines. Now if only I could find myself a bottle with this label. Here's a lead.

Moving beyond the label: Domaine Renucci Calvi 2005

2007-10-04T23:43:00.000-04:00

And what it means to buy the wine enthusiast a good wine gift

When this site's Wine Label Week 1 ended last week, I had to go into overdrive at work. I neglected to post anything, but of course that would change when today my boss gifted me a bottle of wine -- Greek and white and made of grapes that I had never tried or even heard of before.

It's not obvious that a wineblogger would find it nice to be gifted wine at work.

Work is not a place I associate with wine or with winos. In my current office the closest I came to having a real wine conversion was several weeks ago with my boss who, reading about my interest in wine on the pages the Montreal Gazette, said: "I just like the wines that have those pretty crests embossed into the glass."

Luckily, my wine gift was not one with an insignia melded into the glass between the shoulders and the neck of the bottle.

Not that there is anything wrong with that. I do like plenty of those Loire and Rhône examples that my boss was referring to, but for different reasons. Regardless, it's very clear that the association between wine and its worthiness in your mind might not extend to the person you're buying for. This becomes the crucial idea in any exemplary act of gift-giving. You buy for the recipient, not for yourself. So, strange as it seems, wine has actually become the hardest of gifts for me to give.

Today's gift had none of that wine-bestowing awkwardness. And that's because I suspect my boss turned to one wino for advice on what to give to another. That's smart. I don't think any wine enthusiast wouldn't be thrilled to receive an inexpensive "discovery" bottle that's hard-to-find, unique, and from a new region and producer, which describes the Greek wine I received.

Since I haven't yet had the chance to look into my Greek bottle, I'm presenting to you here an equally unique wine that's from Corsica, which is a burgeoning wine region -- but still hard-to-find in your wine shop -- and an inexpensive way to discover new grapes (Sciaccarello!) and new producers. This is the Domaine Renucci Corse Calvi 2005 (click on the bottle shown at top for product details).

Oh, and just check out how that glass bottle upstages the wine label...

Indeed! In honour of today's gift-giver, this Domaine Renucci red wine comes with some nifty relief: an embossed band encircling the bottle and featuring the emblem of Corsica (the profile of a Moor's head, pictured above). And, what's more, turn around the bottle to find a rendering of the island of Corsica, which is just off the south of France in the Mediterranean Sea (look for the outlined island at the centre of the below photograph, which, since the wine was so inviting, I was able to shoot from the front of the emptying bottle... Dear Corsicans: sorry my reproduction ends up inverting the image of your homeland).

Eyes: A nice bright red colour with fuschia hues.

NB: This unfiltered wine is pas collé ou filtré but you notice that more in the mouth than to the eye. Mine didn't throw a lot of sediment.

Nose: Aroma is promising, not quite feisty but suggesting both fruit and mineral, spices and leather. A bit like an effervescent cream soda.

Mouth: Tantalizes the palate with freshness and some very nice tannins in a medium-bodied wine with a strong finish. This is by all means a lively wine, brambly and fun with a lot of mouthfeel. The flavour profile at first seems quite deep -- earthy tones coalescing into a root beer notes, black cherry with cream, hitting some fleeting high notes of caramelization, then it goes typical of the regional grape varieties of Corsica and delivers grenadine. Actually with the Renucci it's practically grenadine syrup. It's extracted, but expressive and still young. It may lack in acidity, and its candy flavours, though surely developing, are not too complex at this stage, and could become cloying as a result... I can't wait to try this wine when I reopen the leftovers.

Stomach: Since it's a 2005 wine and I guess that the caramel notes that are hinted at could blossom with time, you might want to eventually serve this with something exotic like a Cornish hen with a flavourful herb stuffing that highlights cumin or other earthy spices. It is current state, I'd play it lighter: have it with roast chicken in a mild peppercorn sauce, couscous and some root vegetables.

Berard Renucci, Feliceto, Corse, France. 13.5%.

Next post: A proper wrap-up of WLW 1

Labeling information depicts a branch on a family tree

2007-09-30T12:37:00.001-04:00

Something about looking at wine labels really intrigues me -- the fact that they combine factual data with regional cultural influences, whether those might be purely label-design elements or wine labeling requirements specific to a designated viticultural area.

And so, with that in mind we finally reach the crescendo of WLW #1.

Friday's installment of Wine Label Week was sort of pre-empted to bring news that we Canadians are bigger drinkers than ever. This is a "label" that didn't surprise me, and in fact I think it could be expected with the number of people I know who are newly interested in buying and discovering wine. Nonetheless the stats that were released point to a significant trend worth looking at and in that regard I wanted to post an entry on it.

I also wanted to post it since the post I have here today was still being assessed by the experts on Friday. I refer to my "mystery wine" and its a mysterious label pictured here. For it, I turned to the helpful and resourceful folks on the members' forum at JancisRobinson.com.

MYSTERIOUS WINE WITH LABELING MYSTERY

As we can see, this label's different from previous examples during WLW. Yes, the designation is there -- it's an A.O.C. from Beaune, 1er cru -- putting its geographical origin in Burgundy. The vintage year is where things deviate intriguingly. Someone has written directly on the glass bottle in felt pen or paint above the front label.

Was this written by the winemaker? And is there a particular practice indicated by this? That was essentially my question to the wine forum.

And the answer, as suggested by Jancis Robinson herself yesterday, is that hand-written vintage years do indeed imply that the bottle would have come direct from its maker.

Perhaps what's most striking about all this is where did I manage to come across such a bottle, especially since I have not been to Choreys-lès-Beaune since the summer of 2000, when this wine would've still been very much cellared away in some quai.

The truth is that I found this bottle about three months ago. It was left behind in a vacated apartment adjacent to mine and I immediately took interest in it when I saw it. (Unfortunately, it was already empty but, as I said, I do gravitate to wine labels and might be well on my way to full-fledged vintitulism, the practice of wine label collecting.)

In any case, it was only in researching the winemaker when preparing this post that I realized something all of a sudden. The previous tenant had shared his surname with the one on the bottle's label.

With seemingly direct access to a Beaune domaine, this is one neighbour in whom I am kicking myself for not taking a keener interest while we were still neighbours. (I have no idea of his whereabouts now and in fact have been sending back any mail that continues to arrive, marked Déménagé in large letters.)

Who knew a link to a cellar full of Beaune 1er cru could've been as close as just across the hall?

Alcohol on the rise again in Canada

2007-09-28T23:56:00.000-04:00

But Quebec an anomoly due to SAQ strike

We interrupt Wine Label Week for an important announcement. Canadians have been labeled as increasingly likely to drink booze and they do it more regularly and in larger amounts too. This was determined by 2005 facts and figures on drinking supplied by the government, which in most places across the country also supplies the wine!

I gleaned the following from a French-only report on Vin Québec:

Alcoholic beverage sales continue to surge in Canada, says Statistics Canada. 357 million litres of wine and other potent potatables were sold in 2005, which is 4 per cent more than 2004. Plus, in 2005, total sales were up: $4.2 billion, compared to $3.9 billion in 2004.

In Quebec, the numbers did not increase due to a six-week strike at the SAQ (Société des alcools du Québec) provincial liquor corporation.

No numbers from 2006 have been spit out by the state yet.

Between 2000 and 2005, the average Canadian (15 and older) increased their spending on alcohol by 35 per cent to reach $161 per person. In Quebec, average spending was $228 per person (which is definitely more my style).

Which leads to the juicy stuff... How much booze did we drink, strike or no strike at the liquor store? In Quebec, the average person had 17.5 litres of alcohol, which is still the most in Canada.

In British Columbia, the number of litres totaled 15.7; 14.3 in Alberta; and only 12.5 in Ontario.

OK, there's nothing more to see here... Back to your labels, winos.

Colourful cottage wines and Brumont Gros Manseng/Sauvignon 2006

2007-09-27T22:55:00.000-04:00

When I was asked to pick out the four best "cottage" wines -- inexpensive, chillable wines built for enjoyment with food and on a shoestring budget -- I put together a basket of these four. It turned out that they were the wines with the most colourful labels you could possibly assemble while browsing the aisles at my wine shop.

Coincidence?

I promise you I didn't buy these wines because of their labels, but clearly people do. The people I shopped for said that each on went down beautifully. But did they do it blind? Could they have been swayed by the pretty labels set out before them? Though we are in the middle of Wine Label Week here at Doktor Weingolb I am sorry to say that we may never know.

What we do know is that this sunny foursome of a flight started off with what must be the value wine of the summer: the Brumont Gros Manseng/Sauvignon Vin de Pays des Côtes du Gascogne 2006 -- it's the green one at the left.

It's anything but green. A nose of lemon meringue pie; a palate of grass and citrus that is pulled down by une trame de gras, or a perceptible layer of fattiness, without coming off at all oily. This wine has admirable balance, and in between, presents nice acid and weight with that smidgen of fat and sweetness on the finish.

I think this wine lacks minerality, though many people have called it mineral. Not in my books. But in my books, there's nothing wrong with not being mineral. So this wine is a bit of a cream puff, at its core I get a strong musky confit which punctuates the wine but doesn't diminish its soft, gentle and somewhat subtle elegance. Simply astounding for what was the cheapest wine of the bunch!

Pair it with a buttery or rich breaded chicken dish supported by greens or garden fare. Or have it as the best aperitif you can buy with a dozen dollars and change.

But you don't have to take my word on it.

THIS SUMMER, PEOPLE WHO LOVED A COLOURFUL GREEN LABEL

Joe does

The Georgia Strait does

A BC blogger does

Vin Québec aussi!

Somebody writing in Oregon

and Gang of Pour too

There are no doubt other favourable reviews I encountered during the summer for this Brumont, a wine that is better than ever (and which just HAPPENS to have a newly designed label this year... yes, it is a coincidence -- there's no established link between pretty labels and good wine.)

Click on the other cottage wine bottles across the top of the page for reviews of previously released vintages. Each of them in their latest version is delicious (except for the Syrah rosé which I have never tasted and cannot not really vouch for other than to say that it sports the reliability and great pricepoint often wielded by wines bearing the Fortant name -- now that's how to read a label! The Fortant label alone is why I bought it for my cottage-bound friends.

How to interpret a wine labeler

2007-09-26T17:52:00.000-04:00

The last entry in Wine Label Week was entitled "How to interpret a wine label" and featured good tips and valuable lessons on getting important facts from a wine label. It just might make dinner go a little more smoothly if you carefully examine that label on the bottle. The label is going to give you some good clues on what the wine will taste like without uncorking the bottle.

Here's another label that's worth a gander.

... But not so much for what it tells you about the wine contained inside. More than anything else, this is a good example of how, based solely on a wine label, you can tell a lot about the wine labeler:

Drunk!

Stay tuned tomorrow as Wine Label Week continues because I will post what I'd say was the most unanimously reviewed best-value wine of the summer. Hint: It's definitely got a label.

How to interpret a wine label

2007-09-25T22:38:00.001-04:00

Here's a wine I bought based on the label. It's a Cheverny. I interpreted that to mean that it would be a Sauvignon Blanc varietal, the type of refreshing and appetizing wine that's affordable, serviceable and, these days, quite crowd-pleasing.

After noting the wine's designation, my eyes went to the year of vintage. It was 2005, which played in its favour, if for no other reason than it was fresh and not past its peak. (Many say that 2005 was a great year all across France and for white wines in particular so that was another consideration in my purchase.)

At this point, I wasn't quite ready to buy the bottle yet. In addition to the price tag, my eye would be drawn to one other place on label that most people ignore: The percentage alcohol by volume. A weird place to look when you first are picking up a bottle but it's natural for me. I go from wine designation, to vintage, to alcohol level.

This is because I don't like "hot" wines, not because I'm inclined to getting a quicker buzz when I drink. Those wines that have alcohol measuring 14% and above (even alcohol of lesser proportions in white wines) have a greater potential to seem hot. That's not to say that heavily alcoholized wines like Zinfandel and Amarone can't be balanced -- I'm just always on the lookout for that percentage captured in the lower corner of the wine label.

GETTING THE FACTS UP FRONT

The Oxford Companion to Wine says the labeling information for alcoholic content that appears on a wine label is usually stated as a percentage followed by '% vol' but may be expressed in degrees (°) or, in Italy in particular, as gradi.

For the wine pictured at right above (click for a larger view of its label), the typical percentage measurement was given, coming in at an expectedly light 12% alcohol -- at the low end of the scale but certainly well within the norm for white wines of this type. I made a mental note, and by virtue of this, plus the vintage and designation, I went for this bottle.

When I finally opened it, I knew there was some mistake. It was as if this odd shaped wine label had its grayish circular frontspiece peeled away to reveal a bright red octagon -- STOP! (Just take another look at the shape of the label...)

This 12% Sauvignon tasted like its 14.5% cousin produced by Grand Marnier in Chile's Valle del Rapel. It was incredibly hot, with the alcohol expressing itself in a searing, unpalatable, and thoroughly unbalanced way. I was amazed that a 12% wine could taste this alcoholic.

It was at that point I checked the percentage again. This time the label said 14.2%. I did a double take. But how could that be?

A ROUNDABOUT WAY TO TRUTH IN LABELING

It turned out the back label indicated a level of alcohol more than 2% higher than the front label (see image at left). From tasting this wine, it was clear that the back label was correct and the front label was lying. But I bought the wine based on what the front label said, as one could expect.

I had to refer to the Oxford one more time. It said: Alcohol tolerances vary considerably and can be as high as 2 percent alcohol in the US.

Although this wasn't the US, I could tell that this wine's labels were playing fast and loose with the tolerance standard, a rule that ultimately would allow having two different readings for a single wine and have them vary by an industry-accepted margin of error, and still have each of them be considered accurate!

I won't buy 14%+ alcohol Sauvignon so I took this bottle back outright.

THE MORAL OF THE STORY

A bottle of wine can have one, two, three or even four separate wine labels affixed to it. Any one of them can carry pertinent information and it pays to look at each of them before making a purchase.

Tomorrow: How to interpret wine labelers!

Labels... Who needs them?

2007-09-24T17:12:00.000-04:00

We all need them. I'd go freaking nuts if there were no labels around when it comes around to wine time.

The wine label on your bottle indicates so many different things that shape a wine on many different levels. We're talking appellation, place of origin, type or style, vintage, alcohol level, producer, vineyard, bottler, or importer... the list goes on and on and each of these things greatly affects whether you're going to best appreciate the bottle.

WHAT TO LOOK FOR ON A LABEL WHEN SURVEYING A WINE BOTTLE

The following are the main categories suggested by Jancis Robinson as the typically mandatory bits of information on a given wine label, although national or international minimum criteria may be stricter on a local or regional basis.

For each of the following label information categories, I've included a real-life example. The example is based upon the Prado Rey bottle of wine you see pictured at left. Click on it to enlarge it if you wish to follow along with what's what on a typical label.

- Wine designation: Denominación de Origen (or D.O. -- an official Spanish appellation desginating quality)
- Geographical reference: Ribera del Duero
- Volume: 750 millilitres (standard wine bottle size)
- Alcoholic strength: 13%
- Vintage year: 2001
- Name and address of producer: Real Sitio Ventosilla (S.A.) Gumiel de Marcado, España, EU (it's Spanish wine!)
- Bottling information: Estate bottled (written in red across the image and since I bought this in Quebec, it's also in French print mis en bouteilles à la propriété -- is that missing "r" a typo?)
- Varietal information: none specified (this is likely a blend of grape varieties)
- Gratuitous government interference: something on the back about containing sulphites
- Sweetness: none specified (most wines, especially dry wine which are in the vast majority)
- Fizziness: none specified (this does not apply since it is not a fizzy wine)

I would also add these other types of information to look for on your wine bottle.
- Product Origin: Spain
- Type of Wine: Red
- Style of Wine: Crianza (separate top label, cut off from photo)
- Importer: Bergeron-Les-Vins
- Product Number: +929034 (useful when shopping for a specific bottle)

Based on this, you glean a few things from the wine you are about to uncork.

WHAT NOT TO LOOK FOR IN A LABEL

One major way the label helps is it signals low quality as in serious plonk or if you're in for an unpleasant surprise. I'd say be careful if your label doesn't sport at least five of the label items listed on this page. Otherwise you might be in unchartered territory.

For example, take the contents held in the glass container at right. Sure, you've got grape varietal information (Grenache), volume -- oh wait that's weight (907 grams), and something vague about the producer being in the business for a long time (Since 1932 -- glad that's not the vintage year!) ... ah, how old-fashioned and quaint. But don't be fooled! That "caramel" claim is not exactly a suggestive wine tasting note.

As a wino, I'd definitely avoid cracking open this one.

Never trust a wine that you can spread with a knife! (Or, for that matter, a wine label that depicts children licking their lips...)

WLW #1: First-ever Wine Label Week September 24-30

2007-09-23T17:59:00.000-04:00

Labels... Who needs them?

How to interpret a wine label

How to interpret a wine labeler

Colourful wine labels

The wine label as a branch on a family tree

Wine Label Week wrap-up

Before I become the David Cronenberg of wine blogging, I'm going to radically shift the recent trend of dark and foreboding posts around here, i.e., Damaged Goods I & II, which centred on mutilation -- both oenological mutilation and the bodily kind too.

(Basically, in those entries, I realized that I'm the type of wino that will go down with the ship: the discovery of tainted wine leads to painful blood blisters from resealing the contents by hand; and furthermore, when spoiled wine unexpectedly happens in the middle of dinner at a BYO resto, too hastily speeding your ruined wine for an exchange suggested by your "sommelier for the evening" (who actually works at the wine shop up the street from the restaurant) can land you in a traffic accident if you are not careful. It's all a bit like the Cronenberg film Crash, but with wine all over the car seats instead of sex.)

So without further ado...

Tweet, tweet... It's Wine Label Week! A sweeter, gentler, more mild-mannered approach to paying tribute to what's in the bottle. There will be some wine opened and tasted to be sure -- and I promise that whenever possible I will enlist cute budgies to help present the material -- but ultimately the focus next week will be on wine bottle labels. Specifically, what they can tell you about wine and what they can't.

At the end of September last year, Doktor Weingolb was ... hmmm, apparently posting lots of pictures of food from the looks of it ... and as such, missed the opportunity to launch Wine Label Week. For those of you keeping track, the first-ever theme week on this blog was last year's Portuguese Week or the great Semana português!

Btw: Doktor Weingolb is pleased to report that in 2007 Portuguese Week has spun off into something more like Portuguese Month, with Catavino hosting WBW 38 on the subject of wine from Portugal! Click here for details on how to prepare for that.

In the meantime, stay tuned for WLW #1: WTCTYAWWTC -- it's straight ahead!

Car F#@% Day!

2007-09-21T18:59:00.000-04:00

Yesterday was Car Free Day (I call it Car F*** Day). Either way, it was observed in many places across the globe, but unfortunately, nowhere along my usual -- read: wine-errand-related -- cycling routes. These are the routes that I am mostly likely to take on a daily basis.

Which is exactly why I found the above poster that's been floating around the Internets so interesting. You may have seen it.

This strip of Lafayette in New York City is among my most travelled when I'm in Manhattan. That giant wine store you see situated prominently on the corner with the big red flag that reads Astor is the reason why I frequent this stretch. (I realize most people may not have recognized it but it was the first thing that caught my eye when I saw this scene -- I've got a wino-track mind.)

The next thing that comes to my mind -- most likely what the ad designers wanted to elicit in the mind of any cyclist who sees the poster -- is that this accident is actually me on my bike having been cut off by a car f***.

In my case, it happened like this: The car f*** would've thought that the yellow light meant I was about to stop and so the car f*** edged out, as they so annoyingly do before they get a green. In fact, I was not stopping. I was not even slowing down. I was moving fast because I was going to make this light in order to hurry back into Astor Wines & Spirits to take back some corked wine that I had just bought and opened at the NoHo Star BYO resto at the corner of Bleeker a couple of blocks down the street.

God. It's bad enough interrupting dinner because you've got to make a wine run. Last thing you need is a car f*** getting in your face. This is why you need to wear a helmet.

At least I am a master at bike-spill recovery and injury-avoidance. And at least that corked bottle I was carrying in my knapsack put a hole in the car's windshield.

Wine stigmata

2007-09-20T07:57:00.001-04:00

I drink a lot of wine. Friends have talked about slowing down.

It's important to look at your consumption from a strictly medical perspective, and I do, every once and while. I'm not sure my intake is what I really need to be concerned with.

I get these tiny lacerations on my hands from recorking wine. I recork wine more than most, I guess.

I remember I started hand-recorking in order to take spoiled wine back to point of purchase. Of course, these days I could easily go get a device like the Rabbit to do this -- I have friends who installed a fancy mechanism on their kitchen wall. But I stick to old habits. So whether it's wine which is tainted, oxidized, or simply off, I immediately recork the bottle with its contents.

I just shove the cork back down. Sometimes you need a good angle. A cork that has a strong and firm edge can help -- you go at it about 10 degrees from perpendicular with a little twist. But sometimes it's not that easy. The bottle opening can seem to be impossibly tight or the cork can look like it's bloated to twice the size it was before it was disengorged. Sometimes you need to work at it.

LIKE CORKED BATTER, I CHOKE UP ON IT

But anyway, the first time I put a cork all the way back into a spoiled bottle and returned it, the wine store employee I returned it to was alarmed. He either found it seriously fishy or miraculous that I recorked the bottle myself (I don't think he cared about the condition of the wine). He asked: Do you have a wine bottling system at your house? Is this some sort of illicit wine-returning operation is what he implied.

It's not like I'm putting capsules back on the tops (though I have managed some nice homemade versions of that too). But how did you get the original cork back in? I told him. It's not that hard. And it's worth it. It prevents spillage when returning a bottle of wine for thing. I couldn't understand why I was considered suspect for being a good customer.

Here's a mark on my right hand. Both left and right hands are equally useful in recorking wine.

Aside from properly sending back spoiled bottles, you need to recork unused wine well (and store it in cool conditions) if you want to enjoy it another day. This is an even more important reason for recorking. See this post for helpful information on the benefits and rewards of doing things right. Since starting this blog, I've been recorking wine more and more for very reason of optimal storage, though I do still encounter about the same amount of bad bottles to return. So I've noticed these marks on my hands more and more.

The next photograph shows both my hands on a night when the recorkings were numerous (and with less yielding corks than usual). I took this photo with my chin.

The new wine is coffee: Benda 2007 shows at nationals, vintage In Gamba bulks up

2007-09-18T07:40:00.000-04:00

Coffee is the new wine; espresso is the new claret.

Intelligentsia is the new Cheval Blanc; Anthony Benda is the new Véronique Rivest in Quebec.

Mr. Benda, pictured here behind his shiny Synesso at Café Santé Veritas, is the best barista in the town. His customers already knew that, but a strong third-place showing in at the Canadian National Barista Championships in Toronto yesterday meant that he was officially among the best in the country, a shining light outside Vancouver's legendary artisanal coffee scene.

Michael Yung of Caffè Artigiano (Park Royal) won the contest and Cady Wu, of Wicked Cafe, also in Vancouver, came second.

As a wineblogger, it seemed to me that this type of competition was restricted to sommeliers representing the world's greatest restaurants. Now I think it's an indication of how coffee is becoming the new wine.

For proof of this, read the feature story of last week's Dining and Wine section at NYTimes.com and if you are still in doubt, just watch the multimedia included in the report. We're talking:

Blind coffee tastings (known as "cuppings") with some serious slurping going on

A coffee industry newly characterized by brokers and direct trade, which mirrors the négociant/domaine dichotomy in wine production

Quotes like "go almost anywhere, do almost anything and pay almost any price in pursuit of the perfect _" -- no, not wine... "cup of coffee" is how that statement ends

To me this only a good thing. I think my readers must think the same thing, even though they are visiting this site to read about the latest bottle I'm enjoying.

The fact is that the best coffee in the world is just as accessible to coffee drinkers as the best wine in the world is available to wine lovers. Through direct trade, the finest coffee beans on the planet are now being harvested to the top of their potential. Up until quality roasters started endeavours based on direct trade engagement of coffee growers, the best beans weren't doing that. (A similar modernizing phase in wine could be argued to have happened many years ago, before the advent of Mondavi-ating and Rolland-eering winemakers.)

WHERE TO BUY: A GAMUT OF FINE COFFEES AT CAFFÈ IN GAMBA

In Quebec, it's obvious you go to the SAQ to purchase wine. As of last month in Montreal, it's become equally clear that you go to Caffè In Gamba when you want to buy coffee. Sure, you can get some okay beans at the corner grocer, but you could also say there's drinkable wine for sale at the dépanneur. It might be true but I'm not going to condone it.

Get yourself to Caffè In Gamba in Mile End next time you're low on coffee. The place has a retro, vintage attitude to it yet it is the first to sell Intelligentsia's coffee blends in Montreal (or in all of Eastern Canada I believe -- I had to get mine in New York before this place opened). The café stocks both Kid-O and Black Cat blends. Check out Kid-O pictured first on the left along their wall of coffees).

In Gamba has great selection, as you can see, and prices are reasonable. It comes to about $9 for a sealed roasted-within-the-week 1/2 lb bag of Kid-O, which seems to be the going rate in the U.S. too. The friendly In Gamba scale, which offers free cappuccino deals, encourages customers to buy their coffee bulk. So you don't need to dole out a lot of cash to get in the game. Get a small sample for evaluative brewing or ask the barista for advice on the bean that best suits you.

Caffè In Gamba is at 5263 Ave du Parc, just north of Fairmount.

If you don't live in the Mile End area, check out the supply of other great coffee beans at these places:

Caffè ArtJava sells Gimme Coffee! beans in Plateau Mont-Royal and downtown.

Café Santé Veritas sells 49th Parallel beans in Old Montreal.

Indigenous wine on the sly: Fontanário de Pegões & Quinta do Côtto 2003

2007-09-17T07:15:00.000-04:00

When I receive not one comment on a wine I review on this site, I'm bound to notice. I don't feel sorry for myself, I feel sorry for the wine.

I'm taking about a Portuguese wine I profiled three weeks ago. It's the only Weingolb post in a long time that hasn't received any comment and the first Weingolb review since January to go by uncommented.

Granted this Portuguese wine was not given a great review -- hard to spur on interest or conversion in that. But I think that it's the wine being Portuguese rather than it being less than stellar that explains why no one is intrigued enough to submit a response to it. I'm not sure what to do about this.

NO COMMENT?

I did a Portuguese week in February and March of 2006 when this blog was officially renamed Doutor Golb do vinho. I think that caused more of a scene on BlogShares than it did among my few readers.

Nevertheless, a year and a half later, I'm still pursuing my fondness of good-value indigenous regional wine of Portugal. More than 5% of my posts deal with the produce of Dão, Douro, Alentejo and Ribatejo et al. I believe that's a lot for the wine market I live in.

I do appreciate other sites like Catavino which focuses exclusively on Iberian wines. They're a great place to go when you know you're looking for a Portuguese bottle. But how do you introduce Portugal to a wine drinker who might not think to go looking for it? [Update: this issue has been somewhat immediately remedied by Catavino announcing their Portuguese focus for WBW 38, just moments after I posted this entry! Well played Catavino!]

For one thing, Dr. Vino's hosting of WBW #37 is a wonderful and eye-opening look at indigenous wines and I'm glad such a big theme event has come along to profile wines like Portugal's -- which is exactly what Dr. Vino's own write-up tackled.

In the end, I think my 5% blog rule is effective. I think in particular of how RougeAndBlanc, which features a majority of French and American wines, manages the same kind of thing when he integrates a healthy dose of wines like those from Portugal and most recently, the Balkans -- which is cool -- into his regular lineup of reviews.

It's almost like blogging about wine regions ripe for discovery on the sly -- perhaps that's the best way to influence the masses. Do it in between the Côte-Roties and international Cabernets.

SOME SLY WINES TO TRY

Fontanário de Pegões (tinto) Palmela 2003

A lighter and more inviting wine than you'd expect to dive into. It's a rare single-variety Castelão wine from a region which is named Palmela and whose reds I am not used to trying. It is a fruit-forward wine that is ready for instant enjoyment. No fretting over tannins. Almost too quaffable the way this wine flows and flows. But then Fontanário de Pegões gets its name from a fountain. I like a well-named wine.

Full descriptive information: www.cooppegoes.pt

SAQ product file: ~~SAQ site is down on Monday morning! / Site web SAQ est en panne!~~ Now available

TOO SLY BY HALF

Quinta do Côtto (tinto) Douro 2003

I was running into Kingston's LCBO with little time to waste. I picked up a couple Domaine du Ruault and then saw this bottle on the way out of the Vintages section. It was $21. I snapped it up. When I uncorked it, I knew I had made a hasty purchase. Though it possesses a lot more character, depth, body and tannic punch than the first wine, it is not any better balanced and actually has less personality. It may be a superior wine to the first (check the specs at www.quintadocotto.pt but it comes down to value and its $20+ sticker price is off.

Little did I know how prescient my notes would be. It turns out that Côtto is not a $20+ wine at all. It's available at the SAQ for $16.95, making it justly priced at $4 less than what I paid.

And that'll teach me for being such a sly wineblogger, thinking I'm entitled to reduced wine prices every time I pass through Ontario.

WBW #37 Go native: Domaine Monte de Luz 2005 & Torus 2004

2007-09-12T23:15:00.000-04:00

Well somebody sure came up with a tantalizing challenge for WBW 37. Tyler Dr Vino Colman's theme was discovering indigenous grapes (those other than the big six grapes varieties being the general idea), but his exciting call to action was tasting said indigenous grapes by drinking them in their native homeland.

Hmmm... Let's see. Shall I fly off to Northern Moravia in the Czech Republic for more of that Modrý Portugal? Maybe I'll just jet out to Château de Chassagne in Montrachet for some Aligoté with Michel Picard -- haven't seen him in a while anyway... wait, I hear the Almalfi Coast is nice this time of year and I've been meaning to sample the Piedirosso first hand.

I eventually came back to reality and realized that Wine Blogging Wednesday was already upon me, no time to pack or to even book a ticket. It was clear I would be drinking in my own kitchen for WBW 37.

Luckily for participants, Tyler, the good host that he is, built in a second challenge for those WBW keeners like me who can't seem to do enough each time this monthly event comes around. He claims bigger bonus points will go to those who have their indigenous wine at the same time they sample its New World wine counterpart.

Rising to this challenge I drank Domaine Monte de Luz Tannat 2005 from Uruguay and Alain Brumont's Torus Madiran 2004, an appellation contrôllée from France's Southwest.

For each wine, the main grape variety is the lusty and powerful Tannat, the only grape that is spelled the same backwards as it is forwards, and apparently a lot of these Uruguayans think they have the grape sussed out after the Basques brought it across the Atlantic Ocean in the 1800s. But does the New World come up with a hopelessly backwards rendering of this legendary vinifera?

To answer that question, Domaine Monte de Luz Tannat 2005, being the younger of the two, was up first (though it's not younger by much -- only half a year since Uruguay is a Southern Hemisphere country).

At first approach, this had light fuschia edges with darker ruby centre. Is this a bretty smell I'm getting? It's a rather stinky barnyard aroma, eventually loosening up to reveal hints of candy, perhaps even cotton candy. Holy Montevideo.

On the palate, there was red currant, quite astringent with plenty of greenness right out of the bottle with an unforgiving bitter aftertaste. Also cocoa and kir -- chocolate-covered cherries with a lot of bite to it but little real depth. Dinner helps it down a bit but this one comes up short in most respects... except when after the tasting was done and we drank the remainder with 86% dark chocolate -- then it fit right in. It's a cheap boozer. Thoroughly rough hewn.

I bought this bottle in Tyler's very own indigenous hinterland of Manhattan. It was at Martin Bros, a recommended merchant from his ingenious indigenous New York City wine shop map. I got a good deal on it too. I think it was on sale for only $6.

And then it was the Torus's turn. Torus Madiran 2004 is about twice the price of the former so you expect more and that it does deliver. We moved up considerably from the earlier, more rustic version of Tannat. The Torus was buffered with Cabernet Sauvignon and Cabernet Franc grapes -- potentially upping the ante and playing in its favour. That's full disclosure. Consider it a home court advantage.

And we taste. Nothing notably different in its colour or consistency, but the nose was softer in every way possible. Fellow taster Eric S. said it was indoorsy -- a reference to his calling the last one outdoorsy, which at the time drew the comment "outdoorsy, like a logging camp" from another drinking buddy. Point taken: the greater integration of tannins here was duly noted.

Tasting this Tannat brought forth elegance and dynamic effect. Spicy but refreshing, almost like a Pinot Noir. Had exactly the finish that the Luz didn't. Long and lingering with a strong mouthfeel receding into tingling mouthcoating acid. Fruit was also more sophisticated.

It was delicious with a hearty dinner of olive pasta and breaded chicken covered in grated Parmesan cheese. It doesn't brood like some more serious Madirans can and its lower price point makes it a little less extracted and easier to pair as a result. I'd take hands down every time. Find it in Quebec at almost every outlet of the SAQ.

WBW 37 was a great exercise. I'm tempted to go back over my notes on the British Columbia Barbera I tasted last month and compare them to an example of an original Barbera d'Asti.

Mahoma, Uruguay. 13.5%; Domaines & Châteaux d'Alain Brumont, Maumusson, France. 14%.

Tasting Château Meunier Saint-Louis A Capella 2003

2007-09-11T07:38:00.000-04:00

Here's an amazing bargain which I'm a bit late in posting considering I had bought a case and then finished most of it in the busy proceedings leading up to WBW 33: Mid-priced Midi.

At under $20 Canadian, the Château Meunier Saint-Louis A Capella Corbières 2003 definitely fits the bill, if you can find it. The new 2005 cuvées have come in and are replacing the old stock. The SAQ is raising its price by about a dollar. Still a wine that is quite ripe for discovery.

Eyes: Deep purple with a bright nearly neon magenta rim.

Nose: Muted and non-descript at first sniff. (Actually I didn't note anything down but that could be because I headed straight to the tasting.)

Mouth: Chocolaty, but dark and rooty, like a rooibos tea. The fruit presents an interesting vegetal edge, suggesting celery, earth, mineral and tomato. Great structure and nice acid -- I think I can safely say that I've never liked a Midi red from the 2003 vintage as much as I like this one. That it is so elegantly dry is a no small wonder during the year of the heatwave. It has good body and a lovely aftertaste. This wine is a fine specimen and with an admirable level of extraction that supports the dynamics of the wine.

(Lots of notes made here. Why am I such a mouthy blogger?)

Stomach: Because of the extraction and inky but balanced concentration of flavours, I'd serve this with your finest repasts. Perhaps opt for meals that possess the fullest, most heightened flavours. (When placed alongside other top Corbières, A Capella demonstrates that it is of another calibre -- don't let it do the same thing to your food!)

The wine makers have put out a real steal of a deal and wonderful and rich addition to the dinner table.

Martine & Philippe Pasquier-Meunier, Saint-Louis, Boutenac, France. 13.5%.