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

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%.

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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!

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

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).

Midtown Manhattan's best picnicking (plus five more picks from New York City)

Jump to: Picnic pick | Eric Asimov's wine pick | Brooklynguy's wine pick | Alice Feiring's wine pick | Doktor Weingolb's wine pick | Special BYO resto pick


The plan was to blog but I stopped fighting the weak wireless signal that gave me the Internet one minute and totally disconnected me the next. So I decided to leave the laptop in my room and hit New York hard. While that made for a bit of gap in my blogging, I now have lots to say about my five-day getaway, including a few juicy tidbits about wine and food.

Consider this update as five posts in one (use the anchored links at top to navigate through it -- it's lengthy). I hope this makes up for the recent inactivity.

* * * *

First of all, as I alluded to my last post, New York City is fiery hot pit of asphalt and sweat in the summer months, especially when you are caught in Midtown or on a subway platform, or worst of all in Midtown on subway platform (Warning: Never take an uptown train from the 47th-50th Streets/Rockefeller Center station without a towel). What I discovered is that but just 10 streets down from that sauna stop on the B, C, F and V line, I discovered an oasis of refreshment and air-con at the corner of 37th Street and Madison Avenue, also known as the Morgan Library & Museum. The collection alone is well worth the price of admission, but what I went in for was its fantastic café which is at the centre of this amazing building complex.

As you can tell from the photo I posted at the top of this entry, the food is just as inviting as the cool and airy space of the café (pictured below), which the Morgan website accurately describes as "a casual dining atmosphere in the glass-enclosed central court, evoking European alfresco dining." You bet, alfresco! This is by far the greatest place for a picnic during the dog days of summer. Save Central Park for less humid weather.



The brilliant thing is that the Morgan Café emulates a real outdoor courtyard: the high ceiling is composed of a lattice of glass and steel slats, there are trees amid the small dining tables, and on exceptionally warm days like when I was there last week, the sunlight enters the space in bearable measured amounts through the help of automatically shifting shades along the glass structure (follow part of that transition in the photos below).



As for the café menu, plenty of picnic-perfect choices but my order of a plate of cold cuts, goat's cheese and olives is an amazing deal. For only $8 you get to make a couple of your own prosciutto and salami sandwiches (just slap on the cheese and that lettuce onto the complimentary rolls they offer you!) and for $7 more, get a glass of wine. (I felt like I won the lottery the instant this $15 alfresco feast started -- surely you can do no better in Manhattan.)

I chose the Château Routas Rouvière Coteaux Varois 2006, a salmon-coloured rosé from France's Provence region. It was thirst-quenching, quite dry and very likable alongside the spicy marinaded olives and salty cured meats. It had a drinkable table-ready style that some alcohol-drenched rosés from Provence don't handle as deftly. Light and appetizing, this wine is meant for casual lunches when it's really hot out. But I don't need to tell you that. See more detailed notes on this wine.

With this kind of fuel I had energy to wine-shop...

MÂCON, MÂCON-VILLAGES, AND THE MANY RESOURCEFUL TOWNS SOUTH OF THE CÔTE D'OR

My initial instinct was to take a tip from Eric Asimov and so I went for white Mâcon -- Burgundy's best summertime deal. If wine is your bag, Mr Asimov is much-respected and hard-to-miss in the blogosphere. Of all his recent recommendations, I'm finding these white Burgundies to be the most up my alley.

I love this style of Chardonnay, which is full of mineral and bright citrus flavours, though some deem it too light. I happen to value light, and not just because it often translates to light-on-the-wallet. This is Eric's point about Mâcon and its hinterland, known on the label as Mâcon-Villages.

While the results are not yet in on any specific Mâcon bottles (for that please refer to Eric's notes), I can report that New York definitely has better price-points on these wines than here in Quebec. These $12 bottles in Manhattan routinely convert to $20 bottles here in Montreal (and this is not usually the case with most French wines). Expect tasting reports for some Mâcons soon around here, most imminently for the one pictured here!

MACON, MACON & STUYVESANT, AND THE MANY GREEN STREETS OF BEDFORD-STUYVESANT

When I met the wine-wonderful Brooklynguy for lunch in TriBeCa, we discussed our common interest in wine and love for MTA buses. They are certainly cooler transportation than the subway and are routed all around the city and its four boroughs. To get to Macon Street in Brooklyn's Bed-Stuy neighbourhood, buses are the best means of public transit and, much to the glee of Brooklynguy, I recounted how I traveled along the #43 - Franklin, the #48 - Lorimer and the #25 - Halsey.

Why do us winos like buses so much? Besides being street-level and perfectly temperature-controlled (most of the time), they are wine-shopping-friendly, or to put it more precisely, they are bottle-friendly. This is because they have padded interiors and are rather spacious if you like to buy by the case. Most importantly the differential in ambient temperature between a shaded bus stop and the coach is a lot less bottle-shocking than sweltering subway platform and meat-locker train car. (Also the bus is more personable, even when you haven't got a supply of wine on you: just before getting off at Classon Avenue, a kind Bed-Stuy rider pointed out all the globs of sunscreen smudged across my face that I had missed smoothing out.)

Brooklynguy, being the generous and knowledgeable guy that he is, suggested I take advantage of a rare Beaujolais while I could and snap up the Domaine du Vissoux Pierre-Marie Chermette Beaujolais 2005. It's not that difficult to find in Manhattan. I would certainly get it again. It's an unfiltered wine and you can sense it immediately, as in I-can't-believe-it's-not-Beaujolais-cru. My uptown hosts thought it was bold, round, rich and delicious. A hit from an advised expert... check out the full review on Brooklynguy's Wine and Food Blog.

A HEAVY FAVOURITE FROM LANGUEDOC-ROUSSILLON

I have never met Alice Feiring, New York-based wine enthusiast of great expertise and integrity, though she has responded to my brusque queries and desperate emails. She is the one who saved New Year's Eve for us when we hadn't a clue where to take our Cervaro Castello della Sala Antinori Chardonnay for a hopping good time. Well, Alice answered that question and supplied so many more reliable suggestions, like this next wine pick, for instance.

Yes, it was a total no-brainer to instantly buy the Domaine des 2 Ânes Fontanilles 2004 when I happened past it at Astor Wines & Spirits. She wrote about it as an everyday wine with substantial value back in February so I wasn't sure it would still be in supply. Luckily it does seem to be quite well stocked. But unfortunately, it's put into one of those extra heavy bottles that sit in your bag like a stone and makes you wonder why you're schlepping around so much weight at a free jazz concert staged in Washington Square Park. My advice: Make your purchase on the way home rather than when setting out. Astor's open till 9 pm every weeknight.

I'D LIKE A SIX-DAY VERNACCIA IN NEW YORK

For THE best Vernaccia di San Gimignano that gets made you've got to try Mormoraia. It's a little more expensive than most Vernaccia varietals at about $16 per bottle but it does taste like the height of Vernaccia di San Gimignano, a grape that gets very little respect.

Respect is something that it may not need if pure aromatic refreshment comes this easily and this cheaply. In the Mormoraia Vernaccia di San Gimignano 2006 you also get great balance, nutty depth and a profound finish for an otherwise lightweight varietal. I wish I could've brought back more of this across the border. I certainly could've afforded more. As it stands on my map, I've clearly marked down New York Wine Co. (it's 21 Warren Street near the Chambers Street subway station), the Lower Manhattan wine shop that sold me this great stuff.

WHERE TO TAKE YOUR WINE PICKS OUT TO DINNER . . .

And to save the best for last, there's Petite Crevette, the longtime fish-specialty restaurant on Hicks Street in Brooklyn. I had the pleasure of taking a friend of mine out for a birthday lunch there even though she does not eat fish. Fish lover or not, this is a cozy little nook that charms you and sates you, thanks to Neil Ganic, "a chef who has a knack for turning out satisfying, homey but refined dishes that value flavor over frills."

Here's a guy who can single-handedly chat up your table and whip up a codfish burger at the same time. That neither one comes out overdone, rushed, or inauthentic makes this restaurant a true winner. Evenings are much busier so if you like the welcoming chit-chat and attention, definitely try it for lunch. Also definitely bring you own bottle of wine. There's none of those huge corkage fees here. Perhaps a vivacious and slightly rustic Greco di Tufo dei Feudi di San Gregorio 2004 to handle the flavourful fish and mouth-watering appetizers (two words: Cremini mushrooms!) as well as all the other non-seafood plates that are served.

I'd like to take a six-week Vernaccia: San Quirico 2005

I can't tell you how sick I've been of wine lately. But I don't need to tell you, dear reader, when you can just take a look at the last five posts.

Last month, I went totally bezerk hosting WBW 33 for May: Languedoc-Roussillon value wines. Then I OD'ed at an all-you-can-drink Pinot Noir tasting. And look at me now. Since then I've been blogging about dumpster diving for wine and crack cocaine hits.

It's a frightful picture of excess. Excess and wine do not mix (if you have to keep a 9-5 day job like I do).

So enough! What it's been adding up to is that I don't ever want to see a Syrah -- what I thought was my "desert island" red -- and any other Midi red for that matter, or at least just not till Labour Day. Even lighter-bodied wines like Pinots are off my list.

Wineblogging in general has amounted to a chore as a result of this, with any development around here slow and less than prolific. I actually was contemplating throwing in the towel entirely.

But then last night a San Gimignano came along, picked me up and put Weingolb back on its feet.

What's this? Vernaccia, of the central Italian region surrounding Chianti zones, which is not to be confused with the age-worthy Verdicchio that is big across the hills in Umbria or the more coastal Vermentino of Mediterranean fame. Vernaccia takes its name from the Italian for vernacular, meaning indigenous, so a Vernaccia di San Gimignano is unrelated to any other Vernaccia you may come across. This Vernaccia is my new favourite drink, just in time for balcony season.

NO INTERNATIONAL CHARDONNAY PARADE IN REGIONAL ITALY

There's heap of great history to delve into too. Vernaccia di San Gimignano is the definitive and long-honoured white grape of Tuscany. Gee, why would a guy like me wait such a long time to get an introduction?

Hello San Quirico Vernaccia di San Gimignano 2005. You are but one expression of Vernaccia di San Gimignano, but to me you are more than just an example. You are my first acquaintance to and blossoming endorsement of an entire grape variety and wine style -- a whole Medieval viticultural phenomenon, in fact. No pressure!

If you are interested in this phenom, see the ancient oenological legacy on this fantastically authentic Italian site. Great animations! It's like waking up to watch community programming early on Sunday mornings.

But enough about the Wine -- what about this wine. I would call it spicy lemon with supreme balance, rasping acidity and puckering finish that Jancis Robinson best calls "attractively bitter". Dry, beautiful wine at its summery best. Mmmm... Spicy lemon. Racy, citrusy but with a strong minerality too.

I had it with a garlicky grilled tuna fillets, the kind packed by Pastene and readily available at your grocery store, which I quickly and unceremoniously dump onto a balsamic mixed-bean salad with diced cucumber and orange and yellow peppers. The fish was a delicious match though a dressed salad, as always, is a bit of hitch when serving almost any wine.

San Quirico to the eye is a deep and golden yellow colour (like the photographs of the label suggest) and wonderfully aromatic. This Vernaccia seemed to pack some heft, and while quenching and refreshing might be "job one", it possesses a slightly beeswaxy note that wasn't at all displeasing at the time. It added some depth. With lovely mineral tones and a squeaky clean wet stone quality, it kind of reminded me of some great Rieslings but without the petrol.

I would've taken photos and more exact notes of the glasses I drank but it was hot and I was enjoying sipping it at exactly the perfect temperature.

When I had digested my meal I pressed on to more urgent matters. Like why there are no bottles of this at the LCBO, where I found it in April, and why the SAQ would stock three versions of (rather boring) Tuscan Vermentino, eight respectable bottles Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi, but only one Vernaccia di San Gimignano (which by the way is not exactly plentiful in Montreal).

They're mine!

In the meantime, I hope they stop planting Chardonnay in Italy. The regional white grapes that are already there (and in danger of being phased out) are so characterful and so especially aromatic that international Chardonnay is the furthest thing from a suitable update for them.

The only Chard I'm having this summer is some Swiss Chard, tossed with prosciutto and olives, or maybe more of that tuna and bean salad, accompanied by glorious, golden Vernaccia di San Gimignano.

San Quirico, San Gimignano, Italia. 12.5%. Made with certified organic grapes.

[I've never considered an importer important information before but in this case the summer is long and supply isn't so dial up Brunello Imports Inc. of Toronto, the exclusive agent in Ontario for San Quirico at 416-630-WINE (9463). Enjoy!]