Saturday, April 30, 2011

El Xadic del Mar: a gem of a natural wine bar


On the face of it the back streets of the small town of Banyuls-sur-Mer seems an unlikely location for a natural wine bar but given that Roussillon has more than its fair share of natural winemakers, one of the most renowned of which, Casot des Mailloles, is just up the road, it’s not so surprising.

El Xadic del Mar was opened a year ago by Emmanuel aka ‘Manu’ Desclaux who used to run Le Verre Volé in Paris and has an exemplary selection of local wines and natural wines from further afield.

We stopped by for lunch before our visit to Casot des Mailloles (of which more later) and had a couple of interesting whites - Domaine Yoyo’s Restaké 2010 and Bruno Duchêne’s Val Pompo, both Grenache Gris . . .


. . . and some inventive plates of tapas including calcots and anchovies (of course, in this part of the world) and marinated mackerel with asparagus.


Desclaux’ view is that the Parisien wine bar scene has lost touch with its roots - that places that started as bars have become fully fledged restaurants. Well this is thoroughly unpretentious and a great place to drink natural wine.

El Xadic del Mar is at 11, av. du Puig-del-Mas, Banyuls Sur Mer (66650)
TÉL : + 33 4 68 88 89 20

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Friday, April 29, 2011

A Word on Vintage (or Why Vintage and Al Roker Are Basically Synonymous)

So maybe you'll think I'm a nut, but I spend a lot of time thinking about Al Roker (for those of you who don't watch TV or aren't in the US, he's a weatherman on a major morning TV show here). Not in some untoward, weird, creepy way, but in terms of the dude's profession. Why? Because I think about, talk about, and write about vintage all the time and in case you didn't know, vintage is just the weather in a particular year.

I'm sure that wine snobs would gasp at the thought that their ultimate, snot-ace-in-the-hole -- trying to trip people up by casually throwing out vintage and discussing what a great year such and such was for Bordeaux or Burgundy -- can be boiled down to a jolly, formerly portly, bespectacled man who talks about clouds, sun, and rain all day long, but tough luck on them. I'm here to tell ya, that's all it is.

After all, wine is agriculture. There are specific things that determine quality -- some mainly fixed, some variable.

On the fixed side, in my mind, first and foremost is terroir. It's that indescribable French word that encompasses everything that's inherent in a vineyard. Soil, location, climate, sun exposure, slope of the land, proximity to water, and that special un-namable thing that makes the vineyard (if you want to know more about terroir, please listen to the Wine For Normal People podcast on it)

Also sort of fixed is the winemaking style. The winemaker can determine what the end product tastes like by choosing certain techniques to make the wine fuller and creamier (like malolactic fermentation and sur lie aging, where the wine sits on the dead yeast cells after fermentation which enriches the flavor), or give it new flavors by aging it in certain types of oak (new oak produces major flavor, older oak less so). The proportion of grapes used in a blend can also make a big difference.

Those factors are what they are. Because of that, I'd argue that the wine could potentially taste the same year after year if not for the x-factor. And that's where big Al comes into play.

Let me explain.

Some of you may live in a place where the weather is fairly consistent. It's a rare year where strange things happen and storms and unlikely weather events get meteorologists geeked up for their crowning moment of glory where they get hours of air time talking about lightening, wind, and rain. For example, I'd argue that much of California has this kind of climate.

Others of you live in places where weather dictates your life. I remember when I lived in Boston, snow and rain (for 9 months of the year) meant that some years we barely went outside for months at a time and in other years we were overjoyed that, even though it was 14 below with the windchill, we could brave the streets without snowshoes. The weather people got plenty of air time and they were minor celebrities (no coincidence that all the major US networks have weather people that originated in New York stations -- they have a ton of experience on-air).

So what does this have to grapes and vintage? EVERYTHING. Because in places that are located in active weather zones, each year is a wild card. You never know if you'll have horrible wind while the grapes are being formed that could rip the clusters off the vine and reduce your harvest, or if you'll have torrential rains that will bruise the grapes as they are ripening, or a massive drought that could mean your grapes get burned by the sun.

On a continent that is very far north and surrounded by seas to the north, south, and west, and mountains that form their own weather systems, you're bound to have tumultuous weather annually. And that means that sometimes you'll hit the jackpot and your crop will be amazing, but sometimes it will just suck and only the best winemakers will be able to make lemonade from those unsightly lemons. If you've ever vacationed here, you know that often whatever you packed is always the wrong thing for precisely these reasons: Welcome to Europe.

Elsewhere in the winemaking world, we have weather but it's just not quite as volatile. We've addressed California, but we can hit a few more now. Argentina's wine regions, located very high in the mountains, are dry and escape much of the rain and bad weather it would experience if closer to the coast. Australia is plagued by drought, so they don't have to worry much about rain (even with the recent rains, the wine regions were less affected). A lot is controlled by man through irrigation systems. New Zealand, although it has some funky weather, has placed its wine regions in areas that are protected from nasty sea storms that strike up and hit coastal regions. Chile and South Africa have a bit more variation but are still pretty consistent with weather....certainly more so than Europe.

But even with more consistency, Al Roker still has a role to play everywhere in the wine world. The fact remains that no 2 years are the same for agriculture, including for grapes. You may love a wine one year, only to find that it is horrible the next. Could be that they changed the blend or degraded the quality (a lot of big wineries do this 2 to 3 years after launch on their lower range products, BTW), but for established brands it's usually all about vintage.

You've got to pay attention to that number on the bottle and do a little poking around (I like Decanter's vintage charts)...especially if that wine is European.

I think I've effectively flogged the poor dead vintage horse, so now I'll move on to reviewing the latest release/newest vintage from a California winery that sent me their product last year as well -- Concannon. Let's see if my theory holds that vintage matters less in California...

I'm going to compare wines I reviewed last year with this year's version (which, in full disclosure, where sent to me by the Winery...but as you'll see that makes no difference in my review). Here's a link to the prior post for more info on these wines and my take on them last year.

Wine 1: Concannon Conservancy Chardonnay
Where It's From: Livermore Valley
The Grapes:
100% Chardonnay
Vintage:
2009
Alcohol: 13.5%
Price: $15.00

Color:
A rich straw color...like the shimmer off a gold ring. Let's face it; oak has been here in a big way. Chardonnay doesn't get this dark without lots of time hanging out and ripening on a vine and then aging in some kind of oak to darken it up.

Nose: In contrast to last year, this nose was a lot closer to the taste of the wine. It was a tad peachy but the overall sensation was of limeade or lemonade -- a sweetened version of citrus. There was a touch of mineral/wet rock too and a little whiff of pretty jasmine tea or jasmine flowers. I liked it...but was also curious as to why it didn't smell like oak when clearly, from the color, it had been stored in some sort of oak.

Taste: Ah, and here it is...oak, vanilla, and caramel galore. There was a slight limeade flavor but oak ruled the day, once again. Pretty decent acid made my mouth water, but there really wasn't much to this wine except oak and lime.

Drink or down the sink?: Just like last year, I don't love it, but it's not a down the sink. It's just ok. It's funny because I feel like this is less typical of Livermore Chardonnay, which tends to be oaky and heavy like the 2008 was. 2009 was supposedly a better vintage than '08, which was a small vintage because there was a spring frost and then not a ton of rain (see how important Al Roker is?) so maybe the winemaker decided to rely less on oak (by aging it for a shorter time or using a smaller proportion of new oak, which tends to lend the wine bigger flavor than used oak) and let the fruit do it's thing more. Ironically, even with warmer, more consistent weather in '09, the wine seems less fruity and over-ripe than the '08. All around, I like it better, but if you like a big oaky style, this is more moderate.


Wine 2: Concannon Conservancy Petite Sirah
I talk about Petite Sirah in last year's post, so check it out for details.


Where It's From: Livermore Valley
The Grapes:
100% Petite Sirah
Vintage:
2007
Alcohol: 13.5%
Price: $15.00

Color: True to Petite Sirah, this wine is black as night. It looks viscous and heavy -- like black cherry jello before it sets. It's so dark that if you swirl it around the glass the legs (which are just alcohol dripping down the glass after the water has dripped down -- the former is heavier so it takes a longer time to get back into the glass) are stained purple. I'd expect brawn from this wine.

Smell: This year's version was like black licorice, black cherry, and black plums. It had a menthol or medicinal note too and big arse oak -- like cedar chips in the closet. The alcohol wafted out of the glass too. Compared to my impressions of the '08, this was a lot less interesting to smell. It was simplistic and not very exciting.

Taste: Black cherry juice or jello came to mind immediately, followed by grape flavored bubble gum and that kids medicine, Dimetapp, that they sell here in the US. It was a touch bitter too. I know the alcohol was 13.5% which is moderately high but not over the top, but this wine hurt to drink. I don't know if it was the acid combined with the alcohol, but it burned from the back of my throat down my esophagus (no I don't have weird issues and no this doesn't normally happen with wine for me, so it was unique to this one!). The tannins were soft but the wine just didn't work. Like last year -- it had no gusto.

Drink or down the sink?: Down the sink. I felt like the wine lacked balance between the fruit and the acid and alcohol. It had little personality and the character it did show didn't do it for me. I've had a few Petite Sirahs in my day, and there are better ones than this for the money.

If you compare this vintage with my notes on the last for the Concannon wines, I think there are two conclusions to draw:
  • Wines are constantly changing, however depending on the winery and region, they do have a common thread from year to year -- that's due to terroir and to the winemaking style
  • My conclusion about California's consistency holds true with the Concannon wines. I'll need to do the same thing with Europe on the blog, because, although I've never documented it here, I can tell you it can be a wild ride from year to year on the same brand and region. Bordeaux from 2005 and from 2006 are a far cry from each other when you're talking affordable wine
  • Al Roker is our wild card...and we're happy to have him around to keep things interesting in wine!
I'd love to hear from you! Please send questions and post comments! Readmore »»

Wednesday, April 27, 2011

Wine For Normal People Radio Episode 015 Wine Shopping 101: How to break down a wine store

Big surprise this week...M.C. Ice's dreams of being a real M.C. materialize (he's not an M.C. or a D.J., just a normal dude who is cool but slightly dorky yet patient and kind enough to be married to me!)!

Rick had to take a hiatus this week so M.C. Ice filled in and I decided to take the opportunity to tell him a few things I've been meaning to tell him for a while...about wine shopping, of course (fortunately we have no dirty laundry, so that's as scandalous as it gets around here!).

Here are the show notes:
Main Topic
  • M.C. Ice confronts his fear of the Wall of Wine (WoW) and admits that he shops by label (gasp! The dude clearly hasn't learned much through osmosis!)
  • This time it's personal: I take the bull by the horns and try to teach M.C. Ice how to break down the store so he starts bringing home some better wines
  • We talk about the key questions to ask yourself before you even get in the store. "Why am I here?" is a good place to start. Shopping with a purpose is essential.
  • We then get into the importance of deciding on the type of wine you want -- from color, to sweetness level, to weight, to style by wine producing country.
Quick addendum to the 'cast...
I realized that we talked about wine weights but then never gave examples. Here are some examples of light/medium/heavy whites and reds for reference...

Whites:
Light: Pinot Grigio, Albariño, Vinho Verde, Muscadet (from the Loire Valley)
Medium: Sauvignon Blanc, unoaked Chardonnay, dry Riesling, Verdejo, Grüner Veltliner
Heavy: Oaky Chardonnay, Viognier, most Chenin Blanc, the wines of Alsace (Pinot Gris, Riesling, Gewurztraminer)

Reds:
Light: some Grenache, Cotes-du-Rhone, some Pinot Noir, some Barbera
Medium: most Bordeaux, most Merlot, some Pinot Noir/red Burgundy, Dolcetto from Italy, Cabernet Franc, Chianti, Rioja
Heavy: California Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, Zinfandel, Petit Sirah, Monastrell from Spain, Barolo from Italy

Hope that helps!

  • Grape of the Week: Verdejo from Rueda in North Central Spain -- a great alternative white, kind of like Sauvignon Blanc, but with a bite.
  • Share your wine shopping experiences on Facebook or comment here
Here's the link: PODCAST

You can also download the podcast from the iTunes store (and if you like it please add a comment or rate it so we can make sure to stay on the radar, which helps other folks find us easily that would be great!), click the link above, or use the player below! Thanks for listening!



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Sunday, April 24, 2011

Rouge Soif, Vin de Pays de Caux


I like the idea of a vin de soif though in truth many more wines ought to be thirstquenching than are currently.

We ordered this at the wine bar and shop at the Taverne du Port in Marseillan which sadly seems to have cut down on the number of natural wines it sells since we were there a month or so ago.

It comes from Domaine Clos Louis in Nizas and is classified as a Vin de Pays de Caux. It's surprisingly bright and fruity for a 2005 vintage - and lively for 100% Carignan which I generally think works better in a blend.

Again, it's not expensive (7€ at the Taverne, 6€ online from a Pezenas wine shop Le Nez dans le Verre) and at only 12.5% not too high in alcohol. The label says it contains sulphur but I wouldn't think much.

Le Nez dans le Verre recommends it with rabbit with prunes which I reckon would be a great pairing although the producer reckons it goes with everything from fish to foie gras (as they do).

Not certified organic or classified as natural but it tastes it. Readmore »»

Friday, April 22, 2011

Ruining a Perfect Track Record: My First Disappointment from Ribera del Duero

Undoubtedly the best wine bargains these days come from places where people speak Spanish (no, I'm not talking about Arizona and Texas). From the amazing whites made from Albariño and Verdejo in Northern Spain to the reds of Malbec in Argentina and Cabernet Sauvignon in Chile that drink like they are $50 bottles, I'm regularly amazed at the bang I get for my little buck from these spots.

With all this goodness for so little, I'm beginning to think I may be a spoiled brat. My expectation is that, if I pay $15.99 for a bottle from a Spanish-speaking country, I am going to get something pretty
spectacular.

So when I went to one of my favorite local stores and heard from the head wine guy, who I talk to all the time about vino but have never sat down and tasted with, that there was a wine from the Spanish region of Ribera del Duero that was stunning, I had to try it.
What did I have to lose?

I love Ribera del Duero. It's like Rioja on steroids. The wines are usually 100% Tempranillo, but
unlike the calmer wines of Rioja, this region's crazy location and climate produce a ballsy, intense wine with no shortage of acid, tannin, or fruit. The wines are intense, but I love them because they are powerful in a very European way -- lots of texture, some earthiness, and layers of "other stuff" besides fruit to analyze. Like many of the wines from Europe, they are shy-er than California wines, but Ribera del Duero is no wimp.

Let's face it, you'd have to be bold and brazen to be a grapevine in Ribera del Duero. It's on a high plateau in Northwest Spain. That means it gets abundant sunshine and nice dry breezes, but also that its flat, rocky terrain gets walloped by weather. Blazing summers are followed by winters where the temperature drops to 0 on a regular basis. After the grapevines have flowered and are getting ready to make some fruit, a spring frost can come in and ruin everything. If that's not bad enough the soil types vary enormously within yards so harvest is totally inconsistent -- rather than picking rows at a time, the viticulturists may have to go back several times before getting all the ripe grapes from a vine. Infuriating for growers.

But still, there's something special here. If there wasn't I don't think people would have been making wine in Ribera del Duero for 2000 years or that the Benedictine Monks from Burgundy would have settled an outpost in the 12th century and gotten serious about wine. Nor do I think that the most expensive and sought after wines in all of Spain -- Vega Sicilia and Dominio de Pingus -- would be made here.

With a history of amazing producers and a growing number of them making incredible wines from Tempranillo, Ribera del Duero is one of Spain's best red wine regions. Its intense flavors and aromas are a great counterpoint to the Tempranillo-based, medium-bodied, spicy, dusty wines that are typical of its famous neighbor to the east, Rioja.


I was excited to find Sincero, an inexpensive wine from RdD that my wine guy was raving about. I popped it open with loads of excitement, looked at it, smelled it and was thrilled...and then...

The Wine: Sincero
Where It's From: Ribera del Duero, Spain
The Grapes:
100% Tempranillo
Vintage:
2007
Price:
$15.99

Color:
Typical of a wine from Ribera del Duero, this was a black purple. On the swirl it stained my glass, it was so pigmented (thick, skins on ripe grapes will make that happen). The alcohol on this one was high too -- the legs were gloppy and slow to run down the glass.

Smell:
This is what I'm talkin' about! Complexity galore. It was full of scents from the "other" category, i.e., my non-fruit list. The first few things I smelled were hay, a stable, leather, and scrubby herbs (called garrigue in French, kind of like rosemary bush and earth together). There was a salted meat quality to the wine too -- almost like prosciutto or salami. It reminded me of being in Spain and enjoying lunch underneath a large hunk of drying, cured, dead animal (appetizing, huh?). There was a bit of the plum and pepper component that you'll find in most wines made from Tempranillo, but this was so much more than that and I was thrilled to drink it!

Taste: "WHY? WHY?" I would over-dramatically cry to the winemaker if I could find him or her. What happened? The wine went from this panoply of awesome to a watery, highly alcoholic plum juice. The mouthwatering acids and mouthdrying tannins overpowered any secondary flavors and scents and the high alcohol just destroyed whatever was there with a hot, burning sensation (I feel like a commercial for anti-itch cream now, BTW). Totally didn't deliver.

Drink or Down the Sink?:
Maybe if I held it for another 4 years the wine would taste better, but as it is right now, it's a Down the Sink for me. What a colossal disappointment after the beautiful color and awesome smell. Even a day later when I tried it again, the problems with the wine were still there.

This is a bummer in two ways: now not only did I experience a gross wine...I also lost complete trust in my wine buddy. It's a good lesson for us all -- Just because someone knows a lot about wine doesn't mean they share your taste in it (I'll wholeheartedly admit that you may be thinking the same about me and I'm cool with that as long as you know what you like and you stick with me because you can trust my descriptions enough to know that even if I don't like it, you do!!).


I love your comments! Please post below if you have questions or ideas!
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Two new (to me) Faugères

There's a small organic food shop down the road from where we're staying in Agde which has a few wines including thse two from Domaine Valambelle in Laurens.

The red, L'Angolet, is a relatively conventional-tasting red Faugères - a sensuously ripe blend of Syrah (35%), Grenache (30%), Carignan (25%) and Mourvedre (10%).

The white is much more ambitious - quite an earthy blend of roussanne et grenache blanc that is made in the style of an orange wine. It's called Fleur de Campanette and sells as a vin de table.

I'd be inclined to describe it as a natural wine but not the red. It's slightly odd that the domaine, which has been in conversion and will be certified from the 2010 vintage, makes two cuvées in such different styles. Maybe the Faugères is their bread and butter and the white a bit of an experiment. Or perhaps it's a one-off they haven't repeated. It's not currently shown on the site.

Either way at 5€ 70* (£5.02 at the current rate of exchange) I'm not complaining . . .

* though £11.25 I discover in the UK. Readmore »»

Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Two natural Spanish wines and a few issues

I was sent a couple of natural Spanish reds today by Indigo Wine, an enterprising importer which brings in a number of organic and biodynamic wines. Both were good but interestingly, in the case of the first, the newly released Clos Lojen 2010 from Bodegas Ponce, not immediately appealing.

When we opened it it was really quite hot and rubbery (it's 13.5%) and didn't improve that much on decanting. But once it had been open half an hour or so it began to resemble the fresh, Beaujolais-ish style that the Indigo tasting notes had identified. I just wonder if it had been bottled a shade too early - or simply that I hadn't given it enough time to recover from its journey.

The second - Les Paradetes 2006 from Escoda-Sanahuja in Conca de Barbera was an instant hit with us both. A blend of grenache, carinena and sumoli it was full of generous, ripe fruit - and is apparently listed by El Bulli. It also has the sulphur content - 14mg per litre total - on the label which is great (and if they can do it why can't everyone else?)

But the most curious thing was what a huge variation there was in the retail price: £16.44 at an outfit called Vinissimus, £19.95 at Vagabond and a hefty £22 at a shop called Bottle Apostle. How can there be such a discrepancy? Shows it's well worthwhile Googling a wine before you order it. Readmore »»

Monday, April 18, 2011

Wine For Normal People Radio: Episode 14, Organic, Biodynamic, and Sustainable Wines - Do you care?

Ok, even if you don't care, it's still important to know the difference between "organic", "biodynamic", or "sustainable" on a wine label because they seem to be the terms du jour these days. Everyone from wine shops to wineries to wine nerds throw around these fashionable terms and it's good to know the differences between them.

In this episode, we define these terms and explain the differences, and maybe get just a little snarky about some of the marketing BS behind things.

WARNING too...I did use a few naughty words in this episode, so please don't listen with the kids in the car...

And some deets on the show...


  • Shout-outs - Some great Twitter replies, comments on the blog, iTunes reviews, and Facebook posts
  • Main Topic - Organic, Biodynamic, and Sustainable Wines
    1. Sustainable - Not certified... but maybe it should be
    2. Organic - A certification for certain winegrowing practices
    3. Biodynamic - Definitely some weird science going on - a must listen!
  • Let Us Know (on Facebook) - Does "organic", "biodynamic", or "sustainable" matter to you?
  • Grape of the Week - Grüner Veltliner (GROO-nah velt-LEEN-ah)
  • Next Week - Terroir and Pinot Noir -- How the grape is different around the world!
Also to follow up on some things we mentioned... Here's the post on which this 'cast is based: Organic/Biodynamic Wines And some great recent vintages for Grüner...2006 and 2007 were outstanding, 2008 and 2009 were pretty darn good. Try to find out what the style of the wine is before you buy it -- fruity v. peppery and buy accordingly. And as I said in the 'cast, don't give up on it. You may need to kiss a few frogs before you find your Grüner prince!

Here's the link:

Ep 014 Organic, Biodynamic, and Sustainable Wines - Do you care?


To listen, download the podcast from the iTunes store (and if you like it please add a comment or rate it so we can make sure to stay on the radar, which helps other folks find us easily that would be great!), click the link above, or use the player below! Thanks for listening!
Readmore »»

Sunday, April 17, 2011

Two lovely Loire reds


We all have our own preferences as wine writers and one of mine - particularly at this time of year - is Loire reds. I just love the way that you can drink Cabernet Franc with almost anything from asparagus to (grilled) tuna and salads to roasts. Not to mention charcuterie and goats’ cheese . . .

Here are two I tried on Friday - both from Les Caves de Pyrène. The fascinating thing is that you can tell quite a lot about the style they’re made in from the labels.

Clos Roche Blanche Cuvée Pif 2010, C Roussel, D. Barrouillet, Touraine
12% £9.48
This, as the label, suggests, is the more classic of the two - although fruity it’s very lean, pure, mineral and even slightly stony. It’s a blend of Cab Franc and Cot but tastes slightly Gamayish. Most people, even non-natural wine drinkers, would feel comfortable with this. What does Pif mean? It’s named after the owners’ dog . . .

Anjou Pur Breton 2009, Olivier Cousin, Vin de Table Francais 13% £12.90
Biodynamic (approved by Demeter)
This is much funkier with vivid, ripe brambly, hedgerow fruit. Cousin apparently uses a horse to plough his vineyards, uses only indigenous yeasts and no chemical additions or sulphur. (There’s a very nice piece about him on the jenny & Francois blog here.

I found it a shade overripe on its own (my husband disagreed) but it was oddly good with a plate of garlicky seafood pasta. Needs carafing - I liked it much better once it had been decanted.


And here's another of the Clos Roche Blanche pets who followed us, dog-like, through the vineyards on our visit last October! Readmore »»

Wednesday, April 13, 2011

Dard & Ribo Crozes-Hermitage 2009

So I finally got to taste the much-hyped Dard & Ribo last night - one of four bottles I bought from The Sampler. (If four sounds a bit miserly let me tell you they're not cheap in the UK. The Crozes-Hermitage - which is what we were drinking - is £27.)

But it was absolutely worth it for the best Crozes I've ever tasted. Pure, live syrah, every sip was thrilling. It could have been young Côte Rôtie and absolutely vindicates the natural wine approach. A snap judgement but it struck me that Dard et Ribo are to Crozes what Lapierre was to Morgon - someone who makes you completely rethink your view of an appellation.

You can read all about them on the excellent Wine Terroirs blog here and on US importer Louis Dressner's site here.

Oh, and just for the record it was a fruit day . . . Readmore »»

An Oregon Redemption: Willamette Valley Vineyards Tualatin Estate Pinot Noir

Man, I'm excited to write this post. I've had a kind of lame ass run of Oregon Pinot Noir lately. I was even beginning to doubt that my excitement around the region and its fabulous Goldilocks nature of being somewhere between the minerality, barnyard, and crazy spice of a Burgundy, and the ridiculous fruitiness of many California Pinots was completely unfounded.

The good news is that I was wrong. The bad news: I guess now is the time that I call my own bluff. I'm a firm believer/espouser of the notion that you don't have to spend more than $20 to get great wine...but I think with this experience
(which is a replica of a few I've had lately), I've confirmed that's decidedly not the case with most Pinot Noir. Unlike most other grapes where you can get good deals, with Pinot you've gotta spend the cash to get the quality. And in Oregon this is certainly the case.

It makes sense from a business standpoint. I mean, this grape, which I've touted in podcasts and posts as the most pain in the butt grape to grow and the one that requires Herculean effort to tame, master, and create good wine, makes mediocre, watery, nothing-doing ick when it's mass produced. The plain fact is that it just costs a lot of money to maintain vineyards of Pinot and to make wine out of a grape that is so high maintenance and those costs get passed on in the price of the wine.

This begs the question: Why is Pinot more of a pain? Well, for starters, we're not the only ones
that love Pinot -- birds, pests, fungus, and Mother Nature in the form of hail, wind, and rain adore removing every last vestige of amazing grapes from their vines. When you lose a bunch of your crop and when, to begin with, the grape requires cooler climates and specific soils and sites, and mutates like it had a personality disorder, this makes it a problem child in the grape kingdom. Pinot isn't a hearty grape like Syrah -- if you're planning to grow this grape, you better be ready for some serious hand-holding and potential heartbreak if the weather doesn't cooperate with you. It's a bit of a fool's folly to grow this stuff (but if it works it's awesome).

So I give serious credit to those making a go of it in the Willamette Valley (will-AM-it) of Oregon.
This is as good a place to tame Pinot as any. It's 150 miles long and 60 miles wide (pretty huge) and it's sandwiched between the Oregon Coastal Range and the Cascade Mountains, making it cool but warm enough to ripen grapes. The wet winters, and warm, dry summers and the virtual lack of rain in the growing season fatten chances for the growers that they can provide a very nice, accommodating environment for the picky Pinot....at least so says the 200+ wineries there, including some French producers who came looking for sites similar to Burgundy and found the Willamette to be closest to home.

If you aren't familiar with Oregon, it's a great region for Pinot Noir but it's super new in the wine world. The Willamette Valley became a place for wine only after 1965, when four dudes who graduated from UC Davis, which has an awesome program for winemakers and wine farmers (viticulturists) decided to move to the Valley and plant Pinot Noir. David Lett of Eyrie Vineyards, Dick Erath of Erath and Charles Coury of the Charles Coury Winery and Dick Ponzi of Ponzi Vineyards took a risk and it paid off. Others followed.


One of those was Jim Bernau, who set up Willamette Valley Vineyards in 1983. Concentrating mainly on Pinot Noir, WVV grew. Today it's one of Oregon's bigger and more commercial wineries, producing a little over 121,000 cases in 2009 (according to their annual report). This isn't just some small boutique winery -- it's a relatively big business.


And big businesses have a PR and marketing effort. A few months ago they sent me 4 bottles of wine (there'
s my full disclosure -- the stuff was free, but that doesn't mean I'm going to lie about it!). I've reviewed the Pinot Gris (it was ok). Then I tried their $20 whole cluster fermented Pinot Noir and really disliked it. It tasted like alcoholic cherry juice and reminded me of Beaujolais Nouveau -- totally a powder puff wine with nothing of interest to me. The tannins were lame, the acid weak and it was just too simple and boring for me. Another discouraging Pinot at the affordable end of Willamette Valley choices. So with that experience, I had a lot of trepidation about trying the other Pinot that was sent, the Willamette Valley Vineyards Tualatin Estate Vineyard Willamette Valley Pinot Noir.

I was not convinced that this was going to be dramatically better. Thankfully I was wrong. The wine was more than double the price and it's from a much smaller vineyard that has complex soils and a bunch of different clones of Pinot Noir that each add a little nuance to the recipe. Whereas I'd avoid the affordable Willamette Valley Vineyards Whole Cluster Fermented Pinot and drink a Cosmo instead, I could drink this wine all day long -- it was extraordinarily delicious.

Here are the deets:


The Wine: Willamette Valley Vineyards Tualatin Estate Pinot Noir
Where It's From:
Willamette Valley, Oregon
The Grapes:
100% Pinot Noir
Vintage:
2007
Price:
$45.00

Color:
Pale ruby red -- the color I think Pinot should be (not dark -- that screams out that the grape has either been blended with something else OR that it's been hanging on a vine WAY too long and won't taste like the grape rather like Welsh's grape juice). It was a slight concern that the wine had a ton of bubbles in it -- that usually happens when the winemaker juices up the wine with CO2 to keep it fresh. That's ok in a German Riesling, not the best in a Pinot.

Smell:
Really complex -- the smells kept coming and coming with each little sniff. I was encouraged. Typical Pinot can smell like tart cherries, dried cranberry, and wet rocks or minerals. Check. Check. Check. There was an unripe raspberry and a blood orange smell (like a grapefruit and an orange mated) that was unique and yummy. The earthy/mineral smell also reminded me of a rocky beach in the summer -- like hot rocks. There was a floral essence going on too. All super delicious and nothing like the overwhelming cherry juice smell of the lower tier of this wine. This was a different league.

Taste: Tart cherry at first with mouthwatering acid and a hit of alcohol (my only criticism of the wine -- it's a little hot and high in alcohol at 13.4%). Then the wine completely mellows in your mouth --it was like cinnamon toast, rhubarb pie, or berry cobbler with a crumb topping. There was clove on the finish too. The texture of the wine was amazing -- the tannins were super mild (just a little mouth drying) and the acid balanced the fruit and baking spice flavor amazingly well. Everything was balanced. Yum.

Food: You need an medium weight food -- like pork, lamb, swordfish, or certain types of mushrooms, beets, or earthy veggies-- but the rubber is going to hit the road on this pairing when you some sort of savory spice or herb sauce or rub goes on the food. The wine's already tasty profile will only be enhanced by the savory herbs or spice (I think the best option would be with starchy potatoes or some other earthy vegetables, which would combine to make those clove and fruit pie flavors into an earthy, fruity, spicy sea of deliciousness). We had it with hard cheese -- Parmesan. It was unbelievable with that too.

Drink or Down the Sink?: Drink.
There were only about 325 cases of this wine made, so it may be hard to get, but it's worth trying (order online or ask your wine shop to order it for you if you're interested). I'm thoroughly impressed with this wine...but on the other hand I have such a hard time reconciling that it's so drastically different from the lower tier.

So I return to my original discovery -- in Pinot, I think you get what you pay for. And you've got to pay to get the good stuff.


Please let me know what you think! Leave your questions and comments below, or join the conversation on the Wine For Normal People Facebook page.

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Tuesday, April 12, 2011

A glimpse of Le Chapeau Melon

We've had two trips planned to Paris in the last six months which we've had to abort - one on grounds of the heavy snow just before Christmas, the second last month for a family funeral. On both we planned to check out Paris's well developed natural wine bar scene so I have a twinge of envy when I come across posts like this from a blog called Paris Kitchen about Le Chapeau Melon which is run by Olivier Camus, one of the founders of the famous (and apparently famously rude) Le Baratin.

So that's it really. Looks great. Thought you'd like to read it . . . Readmore »»

Just because a wine is natural doesn't mean it's good

I've noticed that some people get quite aggressive when you say you like natural wine. What they tend to do is to think of the most bizarre example they've come across - if indeed they've tasted any - and conclude that you have no taste. But of course there are good and bad natural wines - or at least wines that appeal more or less to one's personal palate - just as there are with conventionally made wines.

So here, for the record, is one that didn't do it for me: Le P’tit Scarabée 2009
from Isabelle Frère, in Sorède down in the Roussillon.

I wouldn't say it was bad, just unbalanced. It's a curious colour for a start - almost as pale as a Poulsard (though it's made from old Carignan, Grenache Gris and Syrah) and oddly sweet - a bit like drinking blackberry juice. It's not typical of other Roussillon wines I've tasted (which I tend to like) so it doesn't strike me as particularly expressive of the Roussillon terroir either.

I bought it from my local wine shop for about a tenner but it sells for more than that on everywine.co.uk where it's £99 for six bottles. So while not expensive, it doesn't strike me as particularly good value for money.

Could be that it hadn't been transported or stored in ideal conditions but I wasn't impressed. My husband on the other hand quite liked it so there you go . . . Readmore »»

Friday, April 8, 2011

All About Brunello: A Tasting of Tuscany's Best with Castello Banfi

Yes, for the millionth time, I am a huge nerd. I've decided to embrace it (mostly because I'm not a creepy nerd, just a dorky one, if you know what I mean). This is why I fell in love with wine. It's constantly changing, it has an amazing history, and you can never taste everything or know everything there is to know. It's nerd utopia.

So when the opportu
nity arises to attend an event that is less about someone pushing their brand and more about educating on a region, I'm thrilled to go. Especially when that region is in the country that I've had a love affair with since I studied abroad there when I was in college: Italy.

Last week, my fellow nerd and one of my favorite wine people in Atlanta, MO'C, invited me to a three hour seminar on Brunello di Montalcino conducted by Banfi vintners, a family-owned, US company who has been importing Italian wines since 1919, and who makes some pretty great Italian wines (if you don't believe me, know that a huge chunk of their wine sales are from Italy so they don't just make wines for export -- they walk the walk. For more on them, check out their story here.).


The presentation was given primarily by Rudy Buratti (left), the head winemaker for Banfi, who understood bu
t did not speak English, which was just fine by me -- although I only understood about 1/3 of what he was saying from my rusty Italian, it still sounded great! Thankfully the talk was translated and framed by Lars Leicht, the VP and Assistant to the Chairman, whom I honestly thought was going to be a total suit, but who more than proved me wrong with his great humor, down-to-earth character, and passion for Banfi and for wine (it all stands to reason -- he's a fellow New Yorker-- it's hard to be from there and have nothing doing in terms of personality. Ok, I'm biased, I know).

The event was awesome because unlike many of these kinds of things, I learned a ton. I was blown away by the complexity and diversity of Montalcino, the small town to which MC Ice and I would love to retire, a decision we made after visiting on a wine boondoggle a few years ago.

The wine of Montalcino seems so deceptively simple at first. I mean, there's only one grape here: Sangiovese. Easier than the 5 grapes of Bordeaux or the 13 of Chateauneuf-du-Pape...ahhh, but there's so much more to the story.

As Rudy told us, the grape is really different in Montalcino than it is in other parts of Tuscany. There are 600 clones of Sangiovese here, each with just a slightly different flavor. The Brunello
clone ('little brown one,' named for its skin color) of Sangiovese has adapted to the different soil types of Montalcino. The region's dry, hot climate also allows vines here to survive, but not thrive. These poor conditions and the area’s diverse soil types create grapes with a high proportion of skin to pulp, that maximize the color, tannin, and flavors in the wine.

Wines from Brunello are a reflection of the land-- you'll never taste wine made from Sangiovese like Brunello di Montalcino -- not from anywhere, including Chianti or in Vino Nobile di Montelpuciano, both esteemed areas for the Sangiovese grape.


It was fascinating to hear Rudy talk about his findings in Montalcino upon his arrival there in the early 1980s, working for Banfi. He and his team took a long term view of working in the area. They first looked at the centuries of winemaking tradition -- the wine was recorded as being unusually delicious in the 14th century and yet it remained a local gem -- even in the 1960s there were only 11 producers
and it wasn't until recently that producers have multiplied to 200.

When Banfi invested $100 million in the area in the early 80s, they embarked on a 12 year study of Brunello and Montalcino. They found 29 different soil types and from 600, they selected the three clones they felt best exhibited unique character of the area.

Banfi also studied the all-important x-factor in winemaking: oak. This was essential because when Brunello is first picked, it's very tannic and it requires years of oak aging to help it mellow
out. It’s so integral to the wine that as part of its Denominazione di Origine Controllata e Garantita (Denomination of Controlled and Guaranteed Origin, DOCG) distinction by the Italian government, Brunello must meet strict aging requirements in oak. For regular Brunello, the wine has to age 4 years -- 2 in oak and 2 in bottle. For riserva (reserve) it's 2 years in oak and 3 in bottle before release.

You've got to have it to be a Brunello but selection of oak is essential because it can drastically change the end product based on things like oak type (American v. French v. Slovenian), age of the barrels (new barrels give stronger flavors than old ones), size of barrels (small imparts more flavor than large barrels), and toast on the barrel (do you char it to give a burnt caramel flavor or lightly toast for a subtle vanilla flavor?).


Banfi's approach to oak is very cool: Rudy actually goes to the forests in France to pick out the tree he wants his barrels made from. Banfi has its own cooperage (barrel-making facility) on-site -- a
rare luxury. They take the true European approach to oak. Unlike many American barrel producers who quickly kiln-dry their wood, Banfi’s coopers "season" the wood, cutting it into staves and then storing it outside and in contact with the elements for a year or more to allow natural, subtle flavors to develop.

When the wood is ready, they don't char it to get huge burnt vanilla flavor, which you would taste in the wine, but instead they lightly toast the barrels over a small fire to just get a light toastiness that will give soft vanilla, chocolate, and toast flavors to the grape juice. The proportion of old and new oak and barrel size varies based on the end result desired in the wine, but the preparation of the oak is consistent for Banfi. Very cool story, no?


So after all this dorking out, we tasted 10 wines (my only complaint about the event was that this was WAY too rushed. We didn't have time to ponder each wine before we moved on to the next one).

This was a component tasting. We first tasted the three clones used in most of Banfi’s Brunellos. Then, to see how the land influences flavor, we tasted wines from the four primary vineyards that Rudy uses to make the finished wines. Finally, we tasted the three finished wines. It was an amazing exercise.


First the three clones with dorky names...
  • BF 30 was floral with excellent raspberry notes. It was perfumed and astringent/mouth-drying -- the tannins were screaming and the acid was high. Clearly this one adds some backbone to the softer clones, but not something I'd want to drink alone!
  • Janus-10 was much more earthy yet with nice plum and tart cherry flavors, and very tannic/astringent. These tannins help preserve the wine so they can age. (I personally thought Janus-10 would have been a fabulous wine without blending!)
  • Janus-50 had more body and was richer in fruit and high in alcohol. It was a little astringent and hot, but still with nice raspberry and plum flavors.
The four single vineyard wines we tasted were each unique and clearly bring something different to the party:
  • The Casanova Vineyard's wine was acidic but very fruity.
  • Sorrena was very mouth-drying, but with pretty red berry and floral flavors.
  • Podernuovo was higher in alcohol so was super mouth-coating and had a really long finish. A lot less fruit, this was more textural.
  • Poggio d'Orcia Vineyard’s wine had some plum flavors, with lighter tannins, higher alcohol, and high acid.
With those descriptions, you can imagine that there are a ton of permutations the winemakers can put together to make wines that will taste really great. I sort of wished I could have played amateur winemaker and poured some combos into an empty glass to see how they tasted together. I could imagine that putting something like the acidic Casanova Vineyard’s wine with the tannic, mouth-coating wine from the Sorrena Vineyard could have been awesome. But I guess I’ll just need to leave that work to the winemakers…

Finally onto the wines that we can actually buy…made of the clones and from the vineyards above:

2006 Castello Banfi Brunello di Montalcino: Smelled of chocolate powder and oranges, but was soft, floral, and full of tart cherry flavor. It stuck around in my mouth but wasn't a blockbuster of a wine. Would be awesome with a hearty Tuscan bean soup!

2005 Poggio alle Mura: Opaque and brownish, the wine smelled like a pear, violets, and cinnamon and tasted like apples, pears, Chai tea, vanilla, and (weird) kind of like grilled hamburger. It had a really long finish, but it wasn't harsh or mouth-drying.


2004 Poggio all'Oro Riserva:
A rare wine, it's only been made in 7 of
the last 25 years. The winemakers only produce it when the weather has been exceptional. It was similar to the Poggio alle Mura in flavor, but a little more like tart cherry, perfume/flowers, and mint. It had softer tannins and strong acidity -- would have been great with food.


For the sake of full disclosure, I feel like this post was kind of long and for me, a little arduous to write. I’m sorry if it was boring to you – it’s a lot to cover. This isn’t my most fascinating post, but hopefully you got something out of it (hey, I gotta be honest with you -- especially if you've taken the time to read this far!).

That said, I wanted to get it up on the blog because this kind of tasting is so unique. You get to see the building blocks of each wine and then how they come together. If you ever get a chance to do something like this, I would encourage you to go (usually it's something only offered in wine country, since they have the components on hand!!). It gives you a whole new appreciation for winemaking as an art.

Thanks to Empire and MO'C, and to Rudy and Lars from Banfi. A great event from a winery very devoted to quality and education!


Salute!
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