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  • Our Daily Lies: the sulfite issue

    Let me start by saying this: SULFITES DO NOT CAUSE HEADACHES OR HANGOVERS!  I can already hear some of you saying "but they do with me because I'm allergic."  Well, you are not.  That's right, you're not allergic to sulfites.  (In case you're wondering, "sulfites" is a term referring to various sulfur compounds that are commonly added to beverages AND FOOD as a preservative.  The common one with wine is sulfur dioxide, aka SO2.)  I think I'm going to offer a pretty solid explanation for that, but first let me tell you how it relates to the title of this post.

     

    One thing that really bothers me is when someone decides to lie to their own customers in order to sell a product.  I get particularly upset about it when it happens with wine, which is a product that already has more than enough confusion and misinformation surrounding it.  Our Daily Red and Orleans Hill are large wine brands with the same owners that market themselves as having no added or detectable sulfites.  When I was on their website recently, I watched a video that makes some bold assertions, including the idea that "sulfite ... potentiates the hangover ... it's just heinous."  These statements are lies.  I'm not talking about uncertainty or exaggeration.  I'm talking about flat-out lying.  Please bear with me while I continue my whirlwind approach to explaining my points.

     

    Selling wine, it seems like about 5% of the people I talk to have self-diagnosed sulfite intolerance.  This might seem strange given that estimates from various sources cited by a paper published by the University of Florida (http://edis.ifas.ufl.edu/fy731) range from 1% to about 0.3%.  I have been told by a Ph.D. chemist whose specialty is wine that the 0.3% number is the one to believe.  This paper also mentions that "[a]dverse reactions to sulfites in nonasthmatics are extremely rare."  In fact, there is zero reliable data supporting the idea that anyone who does not have asthma suffers from sulfite sensitivity or allergy.  To say these compounds are "heinous" is really only true if qualified by "to the tiny portion of asthmatics who suffer from increased sensitivity."  That second part is not stated anywhere in that video.  What's more interesting than the extreme unlikelihood that you, the reader, falls into this very small group is the list of adverse reactions.  "The manifestations of sulfite sensitivity include a large array of dermatological, pulmonary, gastrointestinal, and cardiovascular symptoms."  I don't see where headaches and hangovers would fit into those categories.  Let's give the Our Daily Red people the benefit of the doubt and read on to the list of specific symptoms most commonly reported: "bronchospasm [asthmatic inflammation], angiodema [sic; swelling], urticaria [skin rash], nausea, abdominal cramping, and diarrhea".  Hmmm, no headaches or hangovers?  If you search the web for documented evidence of that connection, you'll find a lot of unreliable, uninformed sources telling you it exists, and an unfortunately smaller number of informed sources with documentation and citation showing that such connections have never been shown in any sort of scientific study.  It hasn't been from a lack of study, either.

     

    How about another view on the matter?  UC Davis is the foremost institution for wine studies in the US.  Their website (http://waterhouse.ucdavis.edu/whats-in-wine/sulfites-in-wine) has this to say: "The medical literature has virtually no reports on sulfites inducing headache.  There are many studies of sulfites and asthmatic responses, and a few of these address sulfites in wine."  So, this has been studied, in multiple instances, and the documented symptoms appear in only this tiny portion of the population, entirely asthmatic, and never include headaches or hangovers.

     

    I know some people do suffer from wine-related headaches.  I feel sorry for them.  There are several theories as to the cause (possibly histamine), but right now the specific cause is not known.  What is fairly certain is that the problem isn't the sulfur dioxide.  To most of us, in the concentrations found in wine, this is a fairly harmless compound.  It is also added to quite a few food and beverage products that are not wine related.  If you ever eat any sort of dried fruit (raisins, apricots, etc), you are consuming more SO2 per serving that you get from wine.  Also, fermented products such as sauerkraut, as well as bread, juices, and various other things often contain sulfites.  I never hear anyone complaining of headaches and hangovers from any of these products.  The hangover issue is also tricky, but I do find with most people I talk to who get it, they're having a problem with cheap wine.  If I drink 2-3 Natural Ice beers or shots of cheap vodka, I will feel like crap.  So, it shouldn't surprise people that a few glasses of cheap wine does the same thing.  Of course, dehydration also causes headaches and hangovers.

     

    So, thanks for reading.  I hope you'll be a little more comfortable from now on consuming wine (responsibly, of course).  I'm very comfortable with it.  Now if we can get people who sell wine to stop lying to the public, we'll really be in good shape.  I doubt these people will stop lying any time soon.

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  • celebration wines

     

     

    Well, all of my efforts in studying (as mentioned a couple of posts back) paid off.  I recently received word that I did pass my most recent and most difficult exam in the WSET Diploma program.  Riding high on the elation I felt from that news, I decided that evening to open a really nice wine with dinner, and then a really nice wine for after dinner.  There's nothing like good food and a great mood to make wines taste their absolute best.  It doesn't hurt when you also have ridiculously good wines.

     

    The first was from Jacques Selosse, a superstar of grower Champagne.  He was at the forefront of the movement to make Champagnes that have a sense of place.  Novel idea, right?  What he didn't like was that the trend at that time (and still today) was to blend grapes (multiple varieties) from all over this vast region, from and make wines that taste more like what's been done to them than where they're from.  This is the opposite of what happens in most high quality wine regions in Europe.  So, this, his least expensive Champagne, is made entirely from Chardonnay and comes from some of the best villages for Chardonnay, all in one small area.  The wine is also expensive and notoriously difficult to find.  The Massachusetts allocation is so small that we have yet to be able to offer any to our customers.  Even I have to buy the wine from retailers outside of the state.  I'm glad I go to such troubles, because it is beautiful.  The aromas and flavors are so complex, so persistent, so beguiling, that it brings me great joy and intellectual stimulation to drink these wines.  It has this amazing texture and length of flavor, to the extent where the impression a couple of seconds before swallowing a sip is IDENTICAL to the impression a couple of seconds afterward.  seriously.  My wife and I paired it with a simple meal so that we would be highlighting the wine rather than the food.  It was perfect with broiled haddock (lightly seasoned), steamed broccoli (mild szechuan seasoning), and raviolis containing brussels sprouts and caramelized onions.

     

    After that treat, I decanted a 1999 Chateau Musar Rouge.  I could get into a long description of what makes this wine so interesting, but I think I will just say that it is truly one of the great wines of the world, it is extremely ageworthy (the '99 is still an infant, and the 1981 was marvelous only a couple of years ago), and it comes from Lebanon.  As expected, the wine was singing, with bright, ripe red berry fruit supporting all kinds of earthy, funky complexity.  No other wine is at all like Musar, and I love it.  I'm really glad to have 6 more bottles tucked away, and I won't check in on another one for quite a while.  I hope I'm able to hold a couple until they're as old as the '81 was when I tried that.

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  • fruit other than grapes

     

    "Fruit Wine" is the labeling classification for wine made from fruit other than grapes.  This is a category that tends not to be taken seriously by the "serious" wine people.  Having tried quite a few of these fermented beverages, I can see why.  What grapes have going for them is their ability to turn into wines that have complexity of flavor, and taste like a bunch of things other than grapes.   The better fruit wines certainly taste good, but they tend not to have any complexity beyond the flavor profile of the fruit itself.  Pear wine tastes like pear juice, blueberry wine like blueberry juice, etc.  Some are sweet, some dry, but almost all just taste like the fruit they're made from.  And these are the better examples I'm talking about.  Some have off-putting aromas or even taste strangely artificial.  When I mention the "better" examples, I am not talking about the very best.

     

    About three years ago, I was tasting some wines with a group of fellow wine nerds, as we are wont to do.  A friend poured us all a wine, whose identity was hidden by a paper bag, that really sparked some discussion.  This was a white wine with quite a bit of complexity.  It had some nutty character showing a bit of age, quite a range of different fruit components, and some savory, earthy notes.  We were thinking maybe this was a Chenin Blanc with some age, the name Nicolas Joly (famous French winemaker) was thrown around a bit, Chateau Musar Blanc (famous, great wine from Lebanon) was mentioned, but in the end we were stumped.  I have rarely been so surprised as I was on that day when the wine was unveiled and it turned out to be the 2001 Bartlett Pear Winemakers Reserve.  This experience opened my eyes to the great potential of this unheralded category.

     

    Since then, my new interest in fruit wine has yielded absolutely nothing of such interest that isn't from the Bartlett Winery in Gouldsboro, Maine.  As far as I have found, fruit wine of such caliber that it can confidently stand amongst some of the great grape wines and not look foolish does not exist anywhere else.  For some time, that same friend who turned me on to the wines has talked about planning a trip to Gouldsboro so that I might meet Bob Bartlett, the man who makes these wines.  A couple of weeks ago, that trip finally came together.

     

    We met with a group of friends and "wine people", several of them in the business, to enjoy an evening of great food, company, and wine.  We enjoyed quite a few interesting wines that night, including a 1989 California Charbono that was in great shape, a Cru Barbaresco from 2000, and a Champagne from the legendary Anselme Selosse.  Among the top highlights for most of us, and at the top for some of us, were the spectacular blueberry wines shared by our generous hosts.  We were lucky enough to try the new 2009 Winemakers Reserve Blueberry, as well as blueberry wines from 1987 and 1989.  In case you missed that, I'll repeat it: we had BLUEBERRY WINES from 1987 and 1989!  Bob said the '89 might not have even been a Reserve, but might have been his "regular" Oak Dry Blueberry.  Whatever it was, it was outstanding.  The core of fruit was still perfectly fresh and youthful, and it was surrounded by lovely, maturing, savory characteristics that would have been perfectly at home in an aged red grape wine.  The 1987 Reserve Blueberry was even bolder and more youthful, with a ton of energy and almost needing more time in the bottle to match and probably someday surpass the elegant complexity of the 1989 (no harm in drinking it now, though!).  The 2009 was so marvelous already that it is proving extremely difficult to keep my grabby hands off of them and let them rest peacefully for as many years as possible.  The common theme is that these are wines with a brilliant array of dark fruit characteristics (black cherry, blackberry, plum, even blueberry) accented by beautiful nonfruit aromas including various spices (baking spices and more savory ones), savory notes, earth, and striking floral tones such as lilac.  The oaked versions are aged in entirely new oak, a treatment that almost always overwhelms grape wine, but works beautifully with blueberries, giving a finished product with only a hint of oak and perfect balance of flavor.  We also had the 2005 Winemakers Reserve Pear, also aged in all new oak but not showing it at all.  It's drinking brilliantly now, but my previous experience with the 2001 tells me that it will be even better with a few more years in the bottle.  I will be patient with mine.

     

    I left feeling like I had been on a pilgrimage.  For someone as passionate about wine as I am, it was something of the sort.  I was and am awestruck by the idea that this guy, with extensive formal training in winemaking, decided to make wine from fruit other than grapes, and ended up showing a small portion of the world that he could, against all odds, make something truly outstanding in comparison to most any grape wine.  Equally mindblowing is the quality of his distilled spirits.  His Pear Eau De Vie is the best I have ever had, smelling and tasting exactly like a slice of a perfectly ripe, fresh pear.  Whatever combination of determination, genius, and alignment of the stars has led to the magic that happens up there in Gouldsboro, I feel extremely lucky to have at least a little experience with it.

     

    Sadly, the wines are made in such limited quantities that they are distributed only in Maine.  The Winemakers Reserves are available only at the winery.   I highly recommend that the next time you are in Maine, you find a decent wine shop and try a sampling of some of the various Bartlett wines that they carry.  There are a lot besides the ones I've mentioned.  Once you've become a convert yourself, or if you're already on your way, you can set up a tasting appointment and make the trek up to Gouldsboro as I did.  I promise you it is well worth the trip.

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  • Enjoying Wine (recovering from a tough exam)

    Last Tuesday, I took a rather grueling exam for Unit 3 of the WSET (Wine and Spirit Education Trust) Diploma.  It involved 5 hours of frantic writing, all the while trying to maintain legibility and to get a whole lot of facts and ideas onto the page in a reasonably followable fashion.  Unit 3 is one of 6 parts of this 2-3 year program, and it is by far the most difficult.  Other units cover topics such as growing grapes and making wine, sparkling wines, fortified wines (Port/Sherry/etc), and the business of wine.  Unit 3 is kind of the "everything else" catchall, which WSET calls "light wines of the world".  This is every wine, sweet, dry, or anywhere in between, that does not bubble and has not had spirits added, from the entire world of wine production.  Okay, they spare us some of the really obscure stuff, but basically, the exam can cover anything from anywhere in the world.  Way beyond simply memorizing a list of regions and grape varieties, the WSET expects passing candidates to have demonstrated a thorough understanding of the influences of soil types, weather, vine training, winemaking, and historical and market trends, combined with the way all of those things influence the styles of and markets for certain wines.  I won't get my results for 6-8 weeks, so don't ask yet.

     

    The reason I'm telling you all of that is to give a little context to the huge amount of time I've dedicated to studying wine over the past few months in preparation for this exam.  At the expense of my personal life and amount of sleep, I think I have learned a lot.  One thing I've become even more aware of is just how particular my tastes in wine are.  I like many kinds of wine, and enjoy tastings a wide diversity so that I can talk to people about whatever it is they like and make suggestions that will fit.  The wines that I truly love, however, fit into a much more narrow stylistic spectrum for the most part.  My regular at-home wine drinking amounts to many different wines, but almost entirely excludes quite a few categories and even some whole countries.  There is also the fact that there are seas of mass-produced bulk wine out there that makes up a huge percentage of wine sold but tends not to be my cup of tea.

     

    In my recent studies, I have been trying as much as possible to experience and understand all of these types of wine that were relatively unfamiliar to me.  The 5-hour exam involves 2 hours of tasting, with the expectation of very thoroughly written notes and evaluation of the wines, without knowing what those wines are.  Since they could give us just about anything, I wanted to be familiar with just about anything.  That meant sitting at home, tasting, re-tasting, discussing, writing notes on, and even drinking a lot of wines that I don't even enjoy.  It got to the point where I was definitely not excited to open that next bottle of wine, which is an act that usually delights me.  Plus, there was the fact that in my efforts to memorize and understand, I was constantly going over things in my head, looking up facts about the wines I was drinking, and researching ideas as they came to me.  I felt at times like I was "on the clock" at every moment.

     

    I don't wan to sound too complainy here.  I am extremely happy to have committed myself to this endeavor as thoroughly as I did, and I even look forward to continuing such studies as soon as I've allowed myself a few weeks' respite.  Hopefully in what I have written, you've been able to get a sense of how it is that drinking wine can become a whole lot less fun.  None of that was unexpected, but now I am elated to be looking at wine a bit differently than I had been up until last Tuesday.  Now, I taste, drink, and read for pleasure, for the simple enjoyment of it.  It's as if I am again exploring the world of wine with fresh eyes.  I don't need to try to retain everything; I can sit back, sip, and enjoy.  And how gratifying it is!

     

    This Monday was the first day neither my wife nor I had to work since the test.  How wonderful it was to watch movies, sip some wine, and not do much else at all that day.  Somewhere around the middle of the afternoon, I opened up a 1990 Louis Jadot Corton, a Grand Cru red Burgundy.  The wine was great, and I even took the time to record a tasting note: 

    "Plenty of red fruit, some fresh but largely dried at this point, is supporting some deliciously mature flavors of forest floor and mushroom, along with some graphite minerality, dried rose, and exotic spice. There is still a freshness to this wine, indicating the potential to age quite a bit longer, but I'm not sure it gets any better than it is now. There is lots of complexity here with plenty of verve to keep things lively. To name all of the individual characteristics I'm getting would be tiresome (little bit of olive, pine, fresh herbs, and many other things), but I will say that there is a whole lot going on here, and I'm finding this bottle to be in a very good place right now. outstanding+."

    That wine was the perfect vehicle to put me firmly in the territory of enjoying for the sake of enjoyment, and it was a real joy, certainly among my favorite recent vinous experiences.  I'm sure I would see the beauty in that wine at any time, but without the relief after such intense studies, I don't think it would have been quite so good.  So, I guess there is balance here as in everything, and I can be glad for what now might be an increased pleasure from drinking wine primarily and almost exclusively for sensual enjoyment.  I'll take it.  In that spirit, and against my normal nature of blogging, I won't even get into the details of Corton.  There's plenty of information elsewhere if you're interested.  Thanks for reading.

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  • Unabashed Hedonism

    While I have a few spare moments, a rare occurrence at this time of year, I'd like to post some impressions of a recent wine tasting.  I attend several different formats of wine tasting, such as large, walkaround tastings for the trade, a tasting group where we blind taste, evaluate, and attempt to identify a set of wines as a group, comparative open and blind tastings with my study partner, and, recently, a practice exam-type tasting.  In addition to all of that, I also do the occasional comparative set of 2 or 3 wines alone at home (trying to learn more about a particular region or grape variety), and, once in a while, the most fun type for me, which is an informal tasting with a small group at a restaurant or someone's home.  The last type of tasting involves less spitting than most of the others I mentioned (I don't drink at all at most of these events so that I can keep my palate sharp, remember what I have tasted, and maintain a completely professional demeanor), which is part of the fun (I do, after all, enjoy actually drinking some of the wine that I am always tasting).  More than that, though, these tastings are fun because each person brings wine that they really like and want to share with their friends and fellow wine nerds.  We might choose a theme of some kind, or decide to enjoy whatever hodgepodge of wines happens to be brought.  This is also the only type of tasting that my wife regularly attends with me.  We will generally bring more than two bottles (one per person is generally an understood minimum unless a couple brings something really special) so that everyone can try an even greater variety.

     

    Recently, a good friend invited us to come take part in just such a tasting.  When this friend and I get together, we usually end up opening a kind of ridiculous number of bottles because we don't see each other very often and we really enjoy sharing some of our most interesting bottles with each other.  That means a bit more spitting than usual so that the later bottles are not opened completely wastefully, and it also means a lot of leftover wine.  Unfortunately, not all of those leftovers will generally be consumed, though I will usually try to have guests the following evening to give it a good effort.  That aside, opening more wine than we could hope to consume might seem excessive, and certainly a bit hedonistic, to some.  It's not that we are trying to drink as much as possible, as I mentioned.  The idea is to be able to compare quite a few really nice wines to each other.  This can be a great tool in deciding what to purchase in the future, and learning about the styles of certain producers and regions.  The wines that shine in the company of other very serious wines are truly exceptional, and this type of comparison allows us to identify such wines without being at a big trade tasting where all of the high end stuff is too young and must be tasted during a marathon of tastes which leads almost inevitably to a fatigued palate and sometimes rewards power over subtle complexity.

     

    On this day, my friend decided to compare some Pinot Noirs from California and Oregon in the 2007 and 2010 vintages.  We only had one of each of the four wines, so it was much more a comparison of producers than broad styles.  The styles are different enough, though, particularly from the 2007 vintage, that it was obvious which wine was which when tasting them blind.  For those who don't follow such things, 2007 for California Pinot Noir was a ripe and concentrated vintage.  In Oregon, however, there was rain late in the season, which made the less successful wines dilute, while the best wines were very elegant, light, and some were almost Burgundian.

     

    A quick note that I will include some qualitative evaluations of these wines.  The scale I use is poor - acceptable - good - very good - outstanding - classic.  Outstanding means really outstanding, which most wine critics using the 100-point scale seem to have forgotten, and classic means the wine redefines my view of its entire category and maybe even wine in general; in short, one of the best wines I have ever had.  Sometimes I use a plus (+) or minus (-) to designate to myself a wine that is near the top or bottom of its category.

     

    We started off with a comparison of a couple of Pinot Blancs from regions not often thought of for Pinot Blanc, at least not here in the USA.  The first was the 2009 Meßmer Burrweiller Schloßgarten IGJ Weissburgunder Großes Gewächs from the Pfalz in Germany.  This wine was mindblowing.  What a ridiculously good wine. It had the mineral presence (very chalky and stony) and lees impact of a great white Burgundy, with this spike of peachy, ripe fruit running through it. The layers of flavor were impressive. outstanding+  The second Pinot Blanc was Cédric Bouchard Roses de Jeanne La Boloree Champagne.  This Champagne is 100% Pinot Blanc, which is not one of the "big three" grapes in the region.  When you read introductory wine books, they tell you that there are only three grape varieties allowed in Champagne: Chardonnay, Pinot Noir, and Pinot Meunier.  The truth is that there are several other grapes that were used historically and are still allowed, Pinot Blanc being one of them.  Bouchard believes there is great potential for this grape, so he makes this Champagne from a single, tiny parcel of it which he owns and farms.  The wine tasted much like a still wine upon opening, but with air, the toasty, autolytic notes emerged a bit more, supporting but never overpowering what was also a peach-driven fruit presence, along with chalky minerals and tropical notes. To me, this was an outstanding wine, but just, and very much unlike any Champagne I've ever had (not surprising). You can get some very impressive wines for what it costs, so I'm not sure I'll be buying it again, but it was well worth comparing to the Messmer.

     

    As an interlude, and for something to have with our pizza, which had Thai-style peanut sauce instead of red sauce (absolutely delicious, by the way), Our host kindly opened a bottle of 2001 Joh. Jos. Prüm Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Auslese Goldkapsel.  I was really surprised at how well this wine showed for how young it is.  This was a tremendous bottle of Riesling.  So floral, ethereally delicate and nuanced, such firm acidity balancing the sweetness, I could chug this wine if it were more affordable.  An outstanding wine, and it was perfect with our pizza.

     

    Then it was time to drink some Pinot Noir.  We had a Burgundy to get us started on the reds, a 1996 Louis Jadot Beaune 1er Cru Clos de Ursules.  This is a monopole vineyard, meaning it is owned solely by a single producer, so theirs is the only bottling from this plot of land.   I had decanted the wine at home before making the 2-hour drive to Portland with some trepidation, because sometimes aged wines can show well initially only to degrade very quickly once exposed to oxygen.  The other factor, though, is the sediment in aged Pinot Noir, which can often be extremely fine.  I was worried about that sediment being shaken up in the car, which would have made it impossible to pour clear wine out of the bottle.  Plus, I'd had a bottle of '96 Jadot 1er Cru from a different vineyard in the same part of Burgundy recently, which had been very youthful still, Jadot being a traditional producer whose wines tend to be long-lived.  My friend found a bit of off-putting funkiness to this bottle, but my wife and I found it charming and complex.  It did decline over the course of the evening, unfortunately, but we thought our first glasses were fantastic, though more advanced than the other '96 I mentioned, with dried red fruits and flowers, and mature notes of forest floor and mushroom.  I thought the wine, for me, was right at peak drinking in terms of its evolution, which might have meant that it was overly advanced for its age, but that is of no concern when a wine drinks well at the time you drink it.

     

    Of the domestic Pinot Noirs that followed, I thought the 2007 Copain Kiser "En Haut" and the Patricia Green Etzel Block were the stars.  The Patricia Green was more elegant, the Copain a bit more concentrated and tannic.  I loved both, and think there is an extremely bright future ahead of both with some more years in the bottle.  Patricia Green is a producer whose wines I've decided I would like to purchase on a yearly basis from now on.  I've been buying Copain for a while and will continue to do so with confidence.

     

    I think it was at this point that our host opened a real show-stopper, by far all of our favorite wine of the night.  2002 Domaine Ponsot Charmes-Chambertin Cuvée des Merles (a Grand Cru red Burgundy) was definitely the best young Burgundy I have had, and one of the best period (surpassed only by a couple of more mature wines). It was breathtaking, and as much as I had enjoyed the Patricia Green up to that point, it held absolutely no interest to me once I tried this Ponsot.  I'm sorry, but a tasting note could not do it justice, especially one from memory.  It's in this type of context that I can really appreciate the greatness of such a wine.  Almost any wine we had that evening would be highly enjoyable on its own, but this wine was so ridiculously good even in comparison to a lot of other really good Pinot Noir.  classic.

     

    The other really noteworthy wine for me was a 1969 D'Oliveiras Sercial Madeira.  I love old Madeiras because they are good pretty much indefinitely, even after the bottle has been opened.  This wine had a certain mature note that I also get in older Cognac, and I think of as the smell of antique furniture, with the leather, the old wood, and that slight whiff of varnish, the last of which has to be very subtle for me to enjoy the wine.  The wine also had a burnt orange peel character and notes of exotic, Asian spice.  All of that with an almost bone-dry fortified wine with razor-sharp acidity holding it all together.  An outstanding wine, and I still have plenty left, which is great.

     

    Those were the highlights of a hedonistic, highly enjoyable evening that I will remember for a long time to come.  Once in a while, excess can seem rather fitting.

     

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  • Hunter Valley Semillon: Hidden Gem

    I call the classic style of Semillon from Hunter Valley, Australia a hidden gem because it is so widely unknown in the US, and yet it can provide so much pleasure at such reasonable prices.  Mine was among the majority of sadly uninitiated palates until a few months ago when I was first exposed to the wonder that is Hunter Valley Semillon.  The wine I tasted at that time is still vivid in my mind, such was the impact that it made.  In a day of marathon tasting, where I probably tried about 50 wines, one of the most memorable proved to be that sleek, focused, wildly refreshing beverage clocking in at a lunch-friendly 11% alcohol by volume and costing a mere $30 retail despite its layers of complexity.  Well, at that point, I was hooked.  I got back to work and set about trying to find something like it that we could sell.  We immediately got in the entry-level 2010 Brokenwood Semillon, and a few weeks later we were able to get a case of the very limited (in this country) 2006 Brokenwood Oakey Creek Semillon, which is the current release of that wine.

     

    There are a couple of things that fascinate me about these wines.  One is that they come from a very warm climate, which generally yields wines that tend to the flabby, low-acid, high-alcohol side of the spectrum, and yet these are just the opposite.  That is due to the ability to harvest Semillon extremely early in this area and have the grapes  and resulting wine still taste ripe.  Then there is the aging curve: long.  Especially under screwcap, these wines can age for quite a while.  I'm confident saying that the basic bottling has at least a decade of good life in it, probably much longer, and that the Oakey has two more.  As they age, the wines become rounder, with greater integration of structure and flavor, and develop interesting toasty, sometimes creamy characteristics that can trick experienced tasters into thinking they've seen some oak barrels even though they have not.  My tasting notes below show a little bit of that progression, but keep in mind that the '06 is still a very young wine!

     

    2010 Brokenwood Semillon, Hunter Valley ($20): The nose on this wine is energetic and pure.  It's like going outside on a spring day.  There is a distinct minerality, which is steely but also like the water spraying off of river stones, and even the smell of dew evaporating off the ground as it warms in the morning, all joined by lemon, lime, and tart apple.  The palate is taut, focused, and so darned refreshing.  It really makes me want to go back in for another sip just after I've swallowed the previous one.  With all of its mouthwatering capability for cleansing the palate and encouraging the appetite, this is a perfect food wine.  I enjoyed it greatly with some various sashimi and maki at my favorite local sushi restaurant, but I could also see it going great with something richer like cooked salmon, or something leaner like ray oysters, which are the classic pairing in Australia.  This is a very good, unique wine that I think is extremely well valued.

     

    2006 Brokenwood Oakey Creek Semillon ($30): Where the basic bottling is all youthful exuberance, this wine is just a bit more restrained, with a rounder feel and a bit more serenity about it.  There is the huge minerality still, but the fruit has fleshed out, having added some underripe melon and pineapple to the mix, as well as a bit of a chalky character, some peppery spice, and toast.  There is more to think about here.  Even though this is a bit more calm due to its age, there is still plenty of unmistakable verve.  I think it has just begun what will be a very long journey of evolution.  I haven't had anything older than the '05 a few months ago, so all I really have to go by is this comparison and what I have read, but when someone asked the winemaker how long these can age, his response was "Under screwcap, as long as you want."

     

    Intrigued and delighted as I am by these wines, I really hope that some of you will try them.  I can drink it all myself, but then I will have failed to expand people's horizons a bit, which is one of my primary goals as someone who sells wine to consumers.  Admittedly, that is a somewhat selfish goal, but my motivation is far more personal than professional.  I see a whole world of wonderfully interesting wines out there, and I want that diversity to continue to grow, rather than shrinking into a world of characterless, manufactured, international-tasting wines that all fit into one of a very small number of styles based on the 4 or 5 that happen to be most marketable at the time.  This style will likely continue to prosper in Australia for quite some time regardless of what we Americans do, but then they will be having so much fun while a tiny number of us lament the loss of availability of one of the most distinctive wine categories in the whole world.

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  • what Beaujolais should be

     

     

    Last night, I tried the 2010 Pascal Granger Juliénas.  Juliénas is one of the "crus" of Beaujolais.  Literally translated as "growths", the crus are individual villages which have their own place designations because they contain vineyard land of an ovarall higher quality than that within most of what qualifies as Beaujolais or Beaujolais-Villages.  Several producers in these areas eschew the use of winemaking practices that lead to the aromas of candy, bubblegum, and banana which so many people negatively and unfairly associate with the region as a whole (practices such as semicarbonic maceration and the use of certain commercially available yeast strains).  Granger is one such producer.  I have had this wine in previous vintages, and have always found it to be fresh, lively, and vinous (as opposed to juicy or artificial; descriptors that I often use for lesser Beaujolais, among other frighteningly manufactured wines).

     

    That's why I was excited to see the 2010 vintage arrive yesterday, and I had to take a bottle home immediately.  2010 is a classically structured vintage in Burgundy, which lies immediately north of Beaujolais and has generally similar growing conditions.  It's a vintage that is getting the purists pretty excited.  Amidst those stirrings, I have been making an effort to taste as much 2010 Burgundy as possible to try to understand what such a vintage is all about in its youth, so that I can then track the wines I have purchased for my own cellar over the coming years and begin to understand their evolutions.  With that focus, I have unfortunately not been paying enough attention to the 2010s from the crus of Beaujolais.  I loved the '09s from these areas, but they showed very much the warmth and sun of that vintage, and are not generally classic examples (though many are great, delicious wines).  This, one of my first forays into 2010 Cru Beaujolais, has been a really good one, and will inspire me to seek out more.  My note from last night is below.

     

    2010 Pascal Granger Juliénas ($20.99) -- Very pretty, as expected. Mouthwatering acidity supports crunchy, tart red fruits along with beautiful floral and tealike aromas. The wine is plenty concentrated for something that is true-to-form elegant in style, and the lovely finish lingers for some time. This wine is seamless, though it drinks as a wine that is very young and could use a few years to flesh out and gain a little complexity. At this price, I think I should tuck away a case and be very happy in 3-5+ years.  Still, a joy to drink now, with great finesse and deliciousness. I could be chugging this stuff.

     

    My mention of cellaring this wine might surprise some, but I will mention that the best Cru Beaujolais can age for quite some time, some even significantly longer than the 3-5 years I'm confident with for this one (think 10+ for some, and I've even read about a select few drinking well with 30+ years on them!).  As this style of wine ages, it can tend to taste more and more like its brethren from a stone's throw north in the Côte d'Or (the central, most famous part of Burgundy), which would be made from Pinot Noir and command much higher prices.  go figure.

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  • Tenuta Delle Terre Nere, Mount Etna

     

     

    Those of you who read our emails might recognize the name of this producer from an email I sent out a little while back.  I have since been an avid fan of their wines, grown on Mount Etna on Sicily and produced from the indigenous Nerello Mascalese grape.  Recently I have had two opportunities to taste several wines from this estate side by side in a single session, and these comparisons have been truly eye-opening.  I'll get to why in a minute, but first I want to mention that these tastings have also been a heck of a lot of fun for me because the wines are so darned delicious.  Here's my note from a few months ago on the 2009 Guardiola:

     

    In the glass, the wine is a beautiful transparent garnet color that belies the elegance displayed by the aromas and flavors. Aromatically, there is a mélange of strong floral notes, comprised of rose and violet, along with a core of bright red cherry and raspberry, dark, graphite minerality, cinnamon-like baking spice, and subtle soil and dusty earth. The complexity of the nose is fantastic; I am completely transfixed by its brilliance. And, if it sounds like I am describing a truly outstanding Pinot Noir, you're not too far off from the experience I'm getting. The palate follows through with the soulfulness and deliciousness that I was expecting. The lovely refreshing acidity and silky yet evident tannins provide the perfect balance, adding to my perplexity when I think about the very warm climate from which this wine originates. I'm not going to question it. I'm just going to drink it, very, very happily.

     

    My comparison to top-notch Pinot Noir, and specifically red Burgundy, is one that is often made.  The other comparison, and one that I have made quite a bit as I have tasted these wines, is to the Nebbiolo-based wines of Barolo.  Some of these wines possess a dark core of something like tar/earth/graphite in a way that reminds me very much of Barolo.  Even the '09 Guardiola did that for me when I tasted it several weeks after writing the above note.  These wines exhibit such a level of complexity that the experience of each one can change a bit from minute to minute or week to week.  It's not that they will change so drastically as to appear as completely different wines, but some components will take turns  as the most prominent.  That characteristic provides a level of interest beyond that of the vast majority of wines I have tasted, and is something I almost never find in a bottle retailing for about $40.  Add to that the elegant, nature of these wines, with their never-overbearing subtlety of flavor, and their well-balanced, refreshing acidity provided by the grape variety itself and the elevation (800-900 m) on which it is grown on the rocky, poor soils on the slopes of this dangerously active volcano, and you've got some seriously interesting and amazing wines all described in a too-long sentence.  (sorry, I couldn't resist)

     

    So, having already been convinced of the greatness of these wines and the amazing details of their origin, it came as no surprise to me that I was thoroughly impressed yesterday when I was able to taste 10 examples from various vintages and "crus" (vineyards or growing sites).  The different wines are named for their specific sites of origin, and all of these sites are in the same area on the side of the mountain and are made similarly.  This detail brings me back to the "eye-opening" experience I referenced earlier, and it relates back to the comparison of these wines to the wines of Burgundy, France.  One of the main points of interest for so many people who are fanatically interested in Red Burgundy is that it can somehow communicate a huge amount of information about its origins.  Wines made identically, from the same grape variety, from plots only a couple of hundred meters apart, will taste surprisingly different from each other.  Then if you start comparing wine from the same plot and producer in different vintages, you see further pronounced differences.  Well, the wines of Terre Nere are similarly interesting.  Tasting, for example, the floral, expressive, relatively broad 2009 Guardiola next to the tight, restrained, mineral-laden 2010 was as interesting as comparing the same 2010 Guardiola to the firm, brooding, deeply earthy 2010 Feudo di Mezzo.  The wines were alternatively fruitful and ripe, to earthy with more tart fruit, to floral and extremely perfumed.  Some were more or less revealing at their various stages of youth (none were older than 2007).  What I found was that the wines clearly all had the same soul, but they all had very different stories to tell in perhaps similar voices.  To me, this is one of the great draws of wine in general, and something that is sadly being lost in so many instances where marketability and catering to the tastes of a certain demographic or customer type is leading to winemaking decisions that obscure a finished wine's sense of origin, or terrior, as the French call it.  I hope you will have a chance to try some of these wines at some point, and to maybe get some sense of what I'm talking about here and how the wines speak to you.  To me, they sound beautiful.

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  • Cerasuolo di Vittoria

    Okay, I have no long story this time about a region or a producer.  I just want to share my tasting note on a wine I had last night that was really, really nice.  The wine is from the Cerasuolo di Vittoria region of Sicily, and is comprised of 60% Nero d'Avola along with 40% Frappato.  I think the wines of Sicily are better than ever (something I could say about quite a few regions these days), and their elegance often surprises me considering how warm the growing season is.  Well, here's the wine.

     

    2010 Planeta Cerasuolo di Vittoria ($19.99): A nice, translucent ruby color hints at the elegance of the wine. On the nose, cranberry, strawberry, rose, green tea, subtle dusty earth, and hints of leather, tobacco, and graphite are very inviting. The aromas are focused, and the fruit is extremely fresh, not at all showing the negative impact that such a warm climate can often have. The palate follows suit, with great (med+) acidity, a soft, creamy texture with medium body, good concentration without a heavy feel, and above average length. There is a sort of steely minerality coming through in addition to the elements from the nose. Overall, I think this is a very good wine, and a very good value at the price it commands. It's really delicious, and for fans of New World, cool climate Pinot Noir, it's sure to please. I usually don't like to make such comparisons, but it reminds me of some Pinot Noirs from cool sites in the Sonoma Coast and Santa Cruz Mountains that I've had recently, which cost much more.

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  • Doug's Wine Pick: Grenache Gris from Roussillon

    Yes, I like obscure wines.  I taste and drink enough wine that I can easily get bored with the major categories, so I often seek out something that will give me a new experience.  I think a lot of people who work with wine can be the same way.  Today, I tasted about 50 wines at a trade tasting, and it left me wanting something different.  I actually tasted a couple of things at the tasting that were extremely interesting, but I can't get them today, so I decided to revisit something that has, in the past, provided exactly the type of newness, freshness, and deliciousness that I want.  I think the importance of deliciousness itself is worth noting here.  There are times when I can appreciate a wine purely on intellectual merit, even though I would not want to drink more than a glass (if even that much) of the wine.  I can recognize its complexity, length, etc. as setting it apart from most other wines and enjoy the act of evaluating the wine more than I enjoy the aromas and flavors.  I know that most people are not that way.  So, I have to remain aware of aesthetic pleasure, or lack thereof, in the face of some wines that I like for other reasons.  What is really nice for me is when a wine comes along that has that uniqueness, that level of interest for even the nerdiest of wine people,, and also has such appealing characteristics that I am happy to suggest the wine to almost anyone with an open mind and a taste for diversity.  In front of me is just such a wine.  It is the 2010 Domaine Jones Blanc.  This is a white wine from the Roussillon region in the far south of France.  It is made from the Grenache Gris grape variety, a red or pink skinned clone of the widespread black Grenache grape.  The idea of a white wine made from grapes like those pictured below is pretty cool.

     

     Aren't those pretty?  As a side note, that's about the same color as Pinot Grigio/Gris as well.  So, aside from the obscure grape variety and highly underappreciated regions, the producer is a British-born wine lover who moved to France to follow her passion for wine and now owns vineyards and makes some really nice wines.  Anyone looking to do so for primarily financial reasons wouldn't have settled in this part of France.  For aesthetic reasons (there it is again, and I do mean as far as the wines and the scenery), this area is a no-brainer.  So, there's the story, and here's my impression of the wine (please excuse that the picture is of the previous vintage).

     

    2010 Domaine Jones Blanc: ($17.99) Aromas of spiced pear, ripe apple, and citrus are joined by a sort of chalky, sea-spray minerality.  There is a depth to the nose that is tough to put into words, but also an inviting feel that has me really wanting to take a sip.  When I do, my palate is greeted by lively, fresh fruit interwoven with the spice and mineral elements into a nicely layered little package, which has fairly intense flavors, but remains light and plenty refreshing.  The wine has a soft mouthfeel but remains crisp, so that it feels in no way flabby even though it does coat the palate.  The finish goes on for quite a while before fading gently into a memory which encourages another taste.  Now I am noticing even a little starfruit off in the distance, and perhaps just a hint of banana, as well as a subtle waxy note that adds a bit of intrigue.  This is a wine that you don't have to think about (I could drink it way too fast), but it you do, you'll be rewarded for it.  That's exactly the kind of wine I love, and I know I am far from alone.

     

    Trying something new solely for the sake of a new experience can be a mixed bag.  Trying something new for a new experience that's bound to be really nice is a different story.  The latter is very much what I hope to be able to get people to do by talking and writing about wines that strike my fancy.  If nothing else, I hope you've enjoyed reading.  Have you tried a wine from a grape variety and/or region that was new to you recently, as I did with this, my first Grenache Gris?  If so, please leave a comment and tell me what the wine was and whether or not you liked it.  Thanks.

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