Out of shape at 33

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)

But most of all, the biggest thing it brings is:

• 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.

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

(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%.

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

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

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.

Another WBW update: Attems Cicinis Bianco 2005

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%.

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!

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

    

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.

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

     
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%.

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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%.

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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%.

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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%.

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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%.

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

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):

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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%.

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

    
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")

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).

Colourful cottage wines and Brumont Gros Manseng/Sauvignon 2006

           
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 label

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!

First taste of South African Sauvignon: Spier 2005

This is my first taste of South African Sauvignon. South Africa produces Chenin Blanc of some renown, and its Chardonnay is in no short supply. But it is the less widely-available Sauvignon grape variety that I was interested in trying this summer to see how it would compare to the other refreshing everyday wines I've been drinking lately.

A disclaimer first: The SAQ liquor agency in Quebec stocks very few white South African wines -- a couple of dozen at best with only five Sauvignons in its catalog. I bought this bottle at the LCBO in Ontario, an agency that clearly has a greater focus on developing wine regions like Stellenbosch. The LCBO distributes 80-odd different bottles of South African wine white, an impressive number though unfortunately this particular one is only available in the city of Markham at the moment.

TASTING THE S.A. S.B. (SOUTH AFRICA SAUVIGNON BLANC)

Mineral aspects of this wine stand out the most, which is slightly surprising since I was expecting a fruit-flavoured onslaught. The whole thing amounts to a lovely profile that also features strong notes of fresh herb and citrus.

I am not a fan of typically big New World fruit but here the fruit, though tropical and exotic, is rendered in a pithy style comes through with a bitter finish and bracing pucker. Not exactly a fruit bomb.

This bottle might have been better in its absolute youth. The 2005 vintage in South Africa is actually going on three years in age since it is a southern hemisphere wine region and gets the jump on most other wine regions by six months. I felt that after a little while this bottle seemed to start to wither and its attack carried a syrupy impression.

For the amount I paid for it, it's a promising wine. I would definitely keeps my eye out for more of it as it is produced and leave the remaining 2005s alone. Click the bottle image at top for more information about its listing in the LCBO catalog.

Annandale Road, Stellenbosch, South Africa. 12.5%.

WBW #36 Let's Get Naked: Domaine Fichet Mâcon-Igé Château London 2005

Without further ado, here now is my review of that Mâcon wine I mentioned in my last post -- the one I picked up last week in New York after reading Eric Asimov's New York Times column, in which he scored it the "best value" of the Mâconnais bunch (see his full Tasting Report here).

Rather than submit to WBW more or less of a rehash of what Eric said, I thought I'd at least do something that Eric couldn't do in the New York Times and drop my pants.

The idea of "Naked Chardonnay" is a suitable one for this special anniversary edition of WBW in which participants are asked strip away the extraneous and get back to basics. This month's theme is a celebration of three years of WBWs and it is hosted by none other than the prodigious Lenn Thompson of Lenndevours, the originator of Wine Blogging Wednesday, or WBW for short. Lenn himself is currently taking a step back and re-jigging some aspects of the monthly WBW event so a theme that takes a similar step back to assess a legendary grape in its most simple and essential expression (which is naked, meaning unoaked or unwooded) follows perfectly.

That's because so many Chardonnays you regularly encounter are heavily oaked these days. Wood can mask the fruit of the Chardonnay grape when not handled carefully. With some of the many cheap and industrial Chard varietals churned out, the grape variety itself is getting more and more maligned, which is unfair.

I turned to Burgundy in France for my Naked Chardonnay -- specifically to Mâcon's Domaine Fichet, which produces under the banner of one of the many localized Mâconnais appellations, Igé.

Most Mâconnais wines are vinified in stainless steel or glass-lined concrete vats for early bottling and consumption within a year or two of the vintage, writes The Oxford Companion to Wine. Furthermore, when I researched this bottle, I found a some useful PDFs on the Internet regarding Mâconnais wine and regarding Domaine Fichet, so apart from my own tasting notes below, I am borrowing liberally.

Domaine Fichet harvests grapes from Château London, just north of Mâcon and east of Cluny to produce wines that are clean and expressive. This cuvée, named after the Château London site, is produced from mature low-yielding vines on the southwest-facing limestone vineyard and is tank-fermented. It was awarded La Coupe Perraton for the best Mâcon-Villages of its vintage. Though oak is sometimes used in Fichet's line of products, it is used judiciously. (Their Vieilles Vignes cuvée comes from vines 60-to-80 years old, and is mainly tank fermented, but sees 20% barrel fermentation, giving it wonderful, intense, creamy, structured and “old-viney” characteristics.)

MY NOTES ON THE FICHET WINE

Domaine Fichet Mâcon-Igé Château London Chardonnay 2005 is exactly the kind of wine that the Oxford suggests. Moreover, big props to Eric's guest Natalie MacLean for signaling out the hazelnut note on the nose. Upon uncorking I only got a sharp but zesty nose. Over time, the nuttiness did develop nicely.

To the eye this Chardonnay had a nice translucent amber colour. (Here's hoping next time it's Naked Merlot or something a little more opaque, i.e. modest.)

To taste this is to get an immediate sense of what strong mouthfeel is in a wine. This Chardonnay is penetrating and intense, wonderfully rich, and it dominates the palate. It's all citrus building to a smooth finish, with a beginning, a middle and an end along the way: From instant refreshment upon contact to buttery and nutty tones to a hint of anise and organic matter on the finish.

Paired with a seasonal meal, its racy, tart and delicious minerality comes to the fore as food flavours invite your tastebuds to note the contrasting elements in the wine. I found that with a fresh garden vegetable pizza, a nice licorice tone was echoed. With a celery and Parmesan cheese salad, the profile was more flowery and stonier.

Overall, a stunning value as Eric claims. Even the $20 (Canadian) that I paid for it is an alright value.

Pierre-Yves & Olivier Fichet, Igé, France. 13%.

Italian white grape adventures roll on: Castello di Porcia Classico 2005

My primary objective continues to be fragrant and refreshing white wines from Italy and as the summer heats up I'm happy to report on this interesting bottle, which I found peering up at me from the SAQ's bottom shelf. It is a new product in store and one of only two readily available Tocais that I'm aware of in the province. As a result, I had no trouble deciding to take the plunge on this inexpensive and unique bottle.

It's a varietal wine labelled Tocai Italiano. The name of the Italian/Slovenian Tocai grape has a vast and sordid history (see details here). The most important thing is the grape itself -- names be damned.

It is that grape which is the predominant variety in a perennial favourite of mine, the Maculan "Pino & Toi". Here, in the Tocai Italico Castello di Porcia Lison-Pramaggiore Classico 2005, no blending grapes are used, meaning that the wine can take on the Lison-Pramaggiore appellation.

(I find it kind of funny and somewhat unfortunate that the SAQ website lists this item with an ill-advised space that renders the producer's name as Castello di Porc -- Pig Castle... the difference between a Porc and a Porcia certainly could not be greater. Oh well.)

Of this appellation, The Oxford Companion to Wine says that it lies mainly in the Veneto region of north east Italy and was created in 1986 by the fusion of two previous DOCs (Italian regions carrying the Denominazione di Origine Controllata seal), the Cabernet di Pramaggiore and Tocai di Lison.

While it's not too close to San Gimignano and its Vernaccia, which live quite a bit further down the boot in Tuscany, it is a perfect substitute with a similar attack and slaking refreshment.

If Vernaccia is known for a slight bitter finish, this Tocai has more of a sour dimension and suggests a Sauvignon Blanc's tartness. The grape's alternate names include Sauvignonasse and Vert -- each one lending the notion of a pithy weediness.

I've had some cheap Tocai that end up tasting resinated and half-way to Retsina, which can be a problem though Retsina does have its own time and place for enjoyment.

Overall, this is an affordable summertime food wine with good acidity and emphasis on minerality.

"Light in colour and body, floral in aroma, and has pronounced almond notes on the palate and on the nose. It is designed to be drunk young."

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!]