A Taste of Europe- From California

My Autumn beer celebration has nearly drawn to a close, and I once again have the time to focus my attention on my true liquid passion: good wine.  I feel that beer deserves a quick plug, as I do not wish to discriminate, and am by no means a snob.  Seasonal fall beer is something I look forward to for nine months every year.  It’s like waiting for a baby.  Except in the case of fall beer, the baby is infused with pumpkin on top of the regular wheat and barley, and in the best of scenarios has a punch that smacks your soul and says “Hey, I’m a fall brew, and I’m going to keep you warm in spite of the fact that you can’t pay your heating bill” (let the records show that I have a $0.00 balance with the oil company, and am speaking only hypothetically).  The point is, I’m guilty of having an affinity for fall beer, and have deviated tremendously from my task of exploring outstanding wines.  Alas, I can stay away no longer.

As a reward to myself for surviving another week, I decided early today (Friday) that I would hit the store and pick up a deliciously fermented treat.  If you’ve followed my blog at all (literally no one comes to mind), then you know that I had a fling last spring with European wines.  I delved into lovely French Bordeaux’s and Burgundies, Italian Chiantis and Montepulcianos, German Rieslings, and Irish… I loved Europe!  I still do.  However, the little patriot inside of me has been consciously sampling more and more domestic grapes, and has been quite pleased.

Tonight’s obsession?  I grabbed a $12.99 bottle of zinfandel from California.  Nothing particularly remarkable, except it bore the inscription “Old Vines”.  Before I go on, I have a small confession to make that may perhaps be already eerily evident.  My brain is far ahead of my palate in terms of wine appreciation.  I can tell you that from the bottle of Bogle Vineyards Zinfandel, Vintage 2007, the “Old Vines” term refers to the grape vine’s history, tracing them back to Europe over a century ago!  They were apparently transplanted from the Old World in an effort to develop a wine producing industry in the U.S. in the early 20th century.

While perhaps not taken quite as seriously at first (and for good reason), I believe some of our domestic vintners have quite a bit to boast about in the 21st century.  This particular zinfandel is (not surprisingly) dry, with a slightly bitter finish, a long finish at that.  As one who is still a self proclaimed novice, I will not go much further, especially considering that I rarley drink zinfandel.  However, to any who do drink zinfandel on a somewhat regular basis, I would encourage sampling Bogle Vineyards Old Vines Zinfandel, and compare it with a favorite similar varietal.  It gets my full (though slightly naive) endorsement.

Frankly, I’ve enjoyed a bit too much of this zinfandel at the moment to make a cohesive argument.  Admittedly, a true viniculturist does not imbibe enough wine to impair sound judgment.  Lucky for me, I am not a viniculturist, and am rather self impressed that I have typed that word correctly two times in a row without error.  Try the Bogle.  Try any domestic and pair it with an import.  I think you’ll be quite surprised.

An Alternative White Wine

Admit it: white wine can often be a bore.  Of course we’ve all had our healthy shares of Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, and Pinot Gris (and Pinot Grigio now that the Italian pronunciation has became more popular).  There are reasons why we have these, however.  Valid reasons.  Any among us with a mind for our personal budgets would attest immediately to the value of finding a “typical white” in nearly every price bracket.  I once picked up a bottle of Chardonnay to cook with for $2.67 (the rest of the story reads something like this: I convinced my roommate that it was a very expensive bottle, I used a splash for cooking, and we drank the rest- my roommate thinking he was rather classy).  I suppose that makes me a liar, but I would argue that in the ’30s the cost of the bottle would have been a great sum of money.  I’m not responsible for inflation.

Nevertheless, we have other whites to go to when we want something a little bit… a-typical.  Take my experience tonight, for example.  My girlfriend and I found a bottle of Chenin Blanc for about $11.00.  It’s perhaps a bit lesser known by its varietal name, but you’ve probably seen it.  Go to the French section of your local liquor store (a good place to start- always).  Amongst the Burgundies and Bordeaux’s you may find a white label: Vouvray.  Vouvray is a part of the Loire Valley.  Chenin Blanc is the grape used.  It’s the same as the Chianti phenomenon.  Few remember that the grape is actually the Sangiovese, and the name Chianti only denotes the region where the grapes are grown.

My palate has yet to be disappointed by a Chenin Blanc.  From the few scraps of elementary literature I’ve read, the “wine experts” will tell you that the grape can run anywhere from bone dry to semi-sweet.  I have yet to try one that isn’t at least semi sweet.  Perhaps it’s the particular Vouvray style (?).  Have it with a light meal.  It can stand alone as well.  For me, just try it cold first.  We all have our own distinct preferences, and that is to be ultimately respected.  But while I’m disrespecting you at the moment, just take my advice, for what it’s worth, and have the Chenin Blanc cold.  If you don’t like it that way, leave me a comment, and I will write your name down in my book that I keep of people who I need to confront about their poor taste.  Just kidding.  Sort of.  Have it warm if you’d like to.  I hear wearing a wool sweater in July in Florida is a good decision as well.  Cheers!

The Other Italian Red

Montepulciano d'Abruzzo

No, I’m not talking about tomato juice.  The truth is the Sangiovese grape, and its famously known Chianti region have become so popular that we (myself included, until my recent triumph) have nearly forgotten about some very delicious wines.  I’m not slighting Chianti by any means, but let’s not forget about Abruzzo.  There, it is not the Sangiovese grape that dominates vineyards, it’s the Montepulciano.

I wish I could say that I have an expert knowledge regarding the Montepulciano grape, or the Abruzzo region, but I do not, and I could never lie to my most revered readers (Hi Dad).  I can say that I have been “sampling” (a euphemistic term) many different Montepulcianos for the past several months, and have yet to be even remotely disappointed.  Characteristically, all have felt soft on the palate, somewhat dry, but finishing smoothly without the bite that its cousin the Chianti is often known for.

One particular varietal I have been very pleased with is a brand called Quattro Mani (Four Hands), from the Abruzzo region.  It retails for about $10 in liquor stores, or for about $34 in high end Italian restaurants (where I had it for the first time…)  Whether you find Quattro Mani or not, go give any Montepulciano a try.  If you’re taste is similar to mine (i.e. good), you’ll be pleasantly surprised.

California Wine Country Cuisine

The following is a link to a fairly enticing article I’ve been sent about food and wine in the Napa and Sonoma counties, primarily.  Although I just finished a relatively filling meal, reading this article (and looking at the arrangements of food within) has aroused my appetite yet again.  It addresses mostly light, summer dishes, but what better to dwell on when you’re crawling through the doldrums of winter?  That’s right: a chill glass of wine in the summer.  Back to day-dreaming…

http://www.cookinglight.com/food/vegetarian/california-wine-country-cuisine-00400000036900/page2.html

March: Wine of the Month

Yes, another month has come and gone, as March awaits before us, poised with all the good things that the last month of winter brings: sleet, mud, grayness, rain, slush, more gray, potholes, and yes, grayness.  It also brings a new season of baseball, as well as this humble recommendation of mine for a very enjoyable wine.

It is none other than Louis-Jadot’s Beaujolais-Villages (Burgundy) 2007.  I had a glass (several) of this blessed grape concoction this past weekend, and was so pleased, that I* had to buy another bottle today (*- my father had to buy a bottle).  It is quite possibly the most balanced wine I have tasted in all of my extensive memories.  It is very soft on the tongue, and ripples ever so slightly across the median between bitter and sweet, though you would never call it either.  Its scent (or bouquet, if you’re one of those people) is very strong and complex, leaving you feeling almost betrayed by its balance after you take your first sip.  It hurts to be lied to, but seeing as I couldn’t stand the thought of putting this wine aside, and perhaps finding a younger, fresher wine which wouldn’t truly make me happy, but merely keep my mind occupied from thinking about the Beaujolais… I stuck by my bottle.

There are a few important things to know when selecting a Burgundy wine, if you’re as unfamiliar as I have been.  The first of these important notes is that the Burgundy region produces reds made from primarily, if not nearly exclusively the pinot noir grape.  Within the region, the simplest way of measuring quality (before you taste and form your own opinion- of course) is to look for the level of detail on the label.  If it simply reads Burgundy, that means the wine was probably produced from Pinot Noir grapes from several vineyards across the region, and is questionable (though not necessarily poor) in quality.  If the label specifies a particular town or village, in this case- Beaujolais, then there is a certain reassurance (as well as price) associated with being able to more accurately pin down the location of the wine’s birth.  Finally, if the label provides the specific vineyard where the wine was produced, you know you’ve found something, at the least, very reputable.

Go forth and enjoy.  You’ll find no shortage of Burgundy wines available, and there’s doubtless one for you, just resting somewhere, growing older, hoping for someone to bring it home and share its life with.  Learn some French.

To Oxidate, or not to Oxidate

As I have been recovering from a cold the past few days, I have consequently been having much more green tea than wine.  I do look forward to the day my cough subsides, and I am able to enjoy a brimming glass once again.  I hope it’s tomorrow (fingers crossed).

As I began to ponder the somewhat “mystical” health benefits of drinking green tea, I realized that its therapeutic qualities stem (pun intended) from one of the same sources that makes red wine an arguable health asset: the antioxidants.

Well, this is certainly nothing new.  Resveratrol, the antioxidant found in the skin and stems of grapes used in red wine, is also commonly seen in tea.  So what?

I realize there are still lingering questions about the health benefits of antioxidants, and that there are even warnings about an overconsumption.  If, however, I may be allowed to hold the largely followed belief, that antioxidants retard the destruction or damaging of cells commonly caused through oxidation, thus aiding in the prevention of certain diseases and ailments- I may be on my way to a thesis.

Without sounding overly conservative, I want to mention that I am a large supporter of the avant garde in science and medicine.  I believe most of us can agree that the 20th century ushered in a new age of sanitation, medicine, and knowledge of how to treat and prevent many afflictions that baffled mankind in the past.

That said, I believe many are making some of the most ill-informed health choices ever.  Could it be that the healthiest, best foods and drinks for us to ingest are centuries (or even millennia) old?  Forget about antioxidants: we knew merely from observation that people in France who had a much higher fat and wine consumption than the rest of the world were living significantly longer.  Do we need electrolytes in our water; water that has satisfied the thirst (not hydrated… NOT HYDRATED) of nearly every creature to have existed on Earth?  Here’s a two-parter: What is phenylalynene?  And if you don’t know, do you really want to?

I’m not saying that I need to know what the cow had for dinner whose milk I drank.  I’m merely presenting an idea: the simpler and the older the drink, the better.  I think I could be quite satisfied with water, wine, and tea.  Here’s an article from Men’s Health that breaks down the risks and benefits of some common beverage choices:

http://www.menshealth.com/cda/article.do?site=MensHealth&channel=nutrition&category=food.for.fitness&conitem=b3b0754dd54aa110VgnVCM10000013281eac____&page=1

From Tuscany- To my Mouth

And back again.  Just kidding, that’s disgusting.

What’s not disgusting, however, is Tomaiolo’s Chianti Classico, Riserva 2004.  As I stood in the liquor store, equipped only with my malnourished wallet and an education in architecture that has yet to contribute anything to the wallet, I realized something very profound: I suck.

I started counting the constraints I had placed upon myself, and began to lose sight of  what I could not afford.  The Grand Cru bottle of Bordeaux turned to dust before my eyes.  Aisles of imported wines evaporated into nothingness, leaving only traces of dirt on a bright linoleum floor.  I heard a screech from outside, and turned to watch my own car fleeing the parking lot.  I didn’t know it could drive on its own.  How I would have loved to pretend it was the Batmobile…

I then re-assessed my environment, and exchanged awkward glances with an attractive bottle of Chianti that still remained (if the bottle had eyes, that is- this particular one did not).  It bore the pink DOCG label, so I knew it was from the Chianti region.  It said Classico, so I safely assumed that it was from a vineyard within the older, historic Chianti region.  It was a Riserva, so I gathered that it had been held and aged for over two years.  It said $13.50, and I realized I could afford a good Chianti.

Several hours later, I found myself enjoying my first glass of the Tomaiolo, and writing in my wine notebook (all cool people write in a book when they drink something… right?).  It had a subtle, earthy aroma that was almost indiscernible.  Upon sipping, my tastebuds were overwhelmed with a powerful, initial flavor, ranging in seconds from sweet to bitter, and finally balancing out.  It had a relatively short finish, but such a complex, exciting scent, as well as taste, that I felt compelled to make it the latest addition to the Honor Roll.  Tomaiolo’s Chianti Classico Riserva is an incredible wine (in my opinion) at a great value (as a matter of fact).

Reading the Label: Chianti

It was bound to happen.  As one of my favorite reds, I would be doing myself a great disservice by not sharing some of the significance of the labeling system.  It’s not nearly as complicated as trying to decipher a Bordeaux bottle, but there are some important things to look for.  Come, let’s embark on this journey together.

Chianti Label

1- It’s not a pink slip, but rather a ticket to all that is good and holy.  This wrapper comes from Italy’s DOCG (much like France’s AOC), a governing agency that controls wine varietals and regulations within recognized regions.  In this case, the pink band guarantees that the contents within the bottle are from predominantly Sangiovese grapes- grown, harvested, fermented and bottled within the recognized Chianti region.  Look for this first and foremost.

2- The region: Chianti.  Many bottles may incorrectly say “Chianti” on them, but without the pink band around the bottle’s neck, they’re merely fermented Sangiovese grapes from another region.  You could possibly infer that it would be a “Chianti-style” wine, but not a true Chianti.  If, however, that’s all you’re looking for, you may save a coin or two by just getting the generic Sangiovese.

3- Vintage: 2004.  Unless the bottle is designated as a “Classico” or a “Classico Riserva”, which must adhere to more strict regulations for growth and fermentation, it’s not a bad idea to pick up a label from a more recent vintage.  Older isn’t always necessarily better.

4- Vineyard: Parentini.  There are many, many vineyards within the Chianti growing region, let alone Tuscany, so it’s a good idea to discover one that has a style you enjoy.  Of course, the only true method of discovery is through trial and error.  Fortunately, I like to have as many trials as possible.

So go out there and get yourself a Chianti.  Put the Godfather on (either Part I or Part II, does anyone really like part III?  With the incestual cousins and everything?  And no more Fredo?  What was Mario Puzo thinking?)  Perhaps a bowl of pasta is in order, too.  Live it up, and drink it down.  It’s your Chianti.  Salute!

Mr. Mondavi

I just thought for the sake of being a medium through which good things are channeled, I would pass along a little quote.  It first came to me through my lovely girlfriend, and I now carry it around in my wallet.  If I could go back in time, I might have made it my high school yearbook quote.  I might also have invested in Google, bet on the Patriots to have a perfect regular season in 2007, and lobbied for a bill that would make it unlawful for any news network to use the same catch-phrase more than thirty times in a day to cover their stories.  Alas, the quote reads as follows:

Whatever you do, pour yourself into it.  – Robert Mondavi

 Oh Mondavi, you lush.

Search for Enlightenment

There’s something that’s been bothering me for a while now that I need to divulge.  No, it has nothing to do with the fact that my Wii Fit has been telling me I’m overweight for two weeks now.  Which reminds me, I’m going to keep this entry short because I need to go practice slalom skiing in my living room.  What I specifically wish to share, however, is some of my confusion about a varietal that’s sweeping the world: Pinot Grigio.

Pinot Grigio.  Pinot Gris.  It’s the Chardonnay of 20 years ago.  You can find it on any menu, in any restaurant.  Pretty soon we’ll be seeing it served in happy meals.  I often look at Dictionary.com for various definitions, because I find it interesting to see unbiased descriptions of jargon within the wine world, from a source that is outside of the wine world.  So, I typed in Pinot Grigio.  I would have settled for the site’s basic description of the wine, but it gave me far more.  It went on to identify the wine’s primary usage: cooking!

Even for one who doesn’t prefer the grigio, I was surprised.  If the grape is one of the most widely planted in the world, and is embraced by every retailer and eating establishment, surely it can’t be all that bad (though the glass I had earlier this evening was horribly bitter).  At this point, I shall embark on my newest quest: the search for the best Pinot Grigios.  I will endure Pinot Grigio tastings.  I will write.  I will order it at restaurants.  I will drink it.  I will not sleep.  In a world filled with the grigio, we deserve reliable information…!