Suppose you’re in the mood for a red, and Indian summer’s still in full tilt. Big boys such as Syrah, Malbec, or Cabernet Sauvignon won’t do, nor will bantamweights Pinot Noir or Beaujolais, especially if that’s nearly all you’ve sipped the last six months. What to pour?
Once again, I’ll repeat my oenological mantra: Think outside the bottle. Few varietals would fit the bill better than Agiorgitiko, a nervy red grape with a lively streak of acidity. It’s a native of the Peloponnese, a region in southern Greece south of the Gulf of Corinth that’s nurtured by the plentiful sun and warmth that defines the Mediterranean climate.
The region’s soil, on the other hand, is barren and dry as any on the planet – an unlikely setting to cultivate vineyards. However, while the Agiorgitiko grape features the same lightness and fruitiness of its ever-popular sibling Pinot Noir, it requires none of its care. “(Pinot) is thin-skinned, temperamental, ripens early,” says the Miles Raymond character in Sideways, adding that it “needs constant care and attention … and only the most patient and nurturing of growers can do it, really. Only somebody who really takes the time to understand Pinot's potential can then coax it into its fullest expression.” On the contrary, Agiorgitiko develops its vibrant freshness in conditions – desolate soil and intense, searing sun – that’d destroy the delicate likes of Pinot Noir.
What does Agiorgitiko offer? Plenty. Its classic trademarks include exuberant, fresh-from-the-vine scents and flavors of cranberry, raspberry, an array of zesty spices, a light body, and tangy acidity. It’s a young soul, this varietal, one with an irrepressibly cheerful and spunky demeanor. Thanks to its self-reliant nature, one of its most appealing features is its appealing price tag, usually around the $10 neighborhood. Even though it’s a staple on wine lists of Greek restaurants coast to coast, Agiorgitiko is at home with any fare usually paired with Pinot Noir and other light reds. Here’s one that’s one of our favorites:
ACHAIA CLAUSS DRY RED WINE “DANIELIS” NV/PATRAS: ABOUT $12
100% Agiorgitiko. In 1854, native Bavarian Gustav Clauss visited Patras, a region in northwestern Peloponnese, and liked it so much he chose to settle there. The first wines he produced there were Mavrodaphne – a sweet red grape transplanted from the Ionian Islands – and Muscat of Patras. In 1861, seven years after putting down roots in his new land and creating his wines, Gustav built the Achaia Clauss winery. More than 150 years later, it’s one of Greece’s best-known wineries, with a portfolio that features 32 different wines and four spirits than run the gamut from young, refreshing quaffers to boutique-style wines with power and depth. Gustav, we think, would truly enjoy sipping a glass of his “Danielis,” a soft, spunky red that shows the charm of the Agiorgitiko grape. Spunky red fruit, ginger, and a zippy touch of pepper dance all over the palate. Versatility is its calling card, as welcome at a holiday dinner as on a picnic.
Saturday, October 25, 2008
Wednesday, October 22, 2008
So you want a snappy bargain wine? Here's one for toasty weather
It's been brutal in southern California these last few days, with mid-day temperatures nearing the century mark and violent, dry Santa Ana windstorms searing throats. "Fire weather" is what locals term these disagreeable conditions, since the terrain in this region has the unfortunate tendency to go up in flames at around this time each year.
As if the climate isn't enough for people here to contend with, consider the economy. I call the mess a total collapse, while my 84-year-old parents say it's worse than the original Great Depression they remember as elementary-school kids. It's ugly everywhere, but few places nastier than here in Orange County, the unofficial headquarters of the mortgage, financial, and contracting industries on the west coast. Rarely a day passes without news of a local mortgage or financial firm slashing drastic numbers of staffers, many to battle personal financial crises they'd never imagined.
Even for those who haven't had things so rough, the economic climate is nevertheless a definite downer. What's an oenophile to do when Wall Street takes massive belly flops of several hundred points each day?
Here's my advice: Think outside the box -- ahem, bottle -- for maximum quality for a minimal price. Over the last year, wine pundits have enthusiastically pointed to Spain and Portugal as superb sources for excellent, extremely affordable juice. The Better Half and I, long fans of tantalizingly priced Riojas, nod in agreement.
With that, here's what to pour when both the heat and the economic collapse get their angry on:
ALIANCA CASAL MENDES VINHO BRANCO NV/VINHO VERDE: ABOUT $6
Pederna and Azal Branco (both unidentified quantities). Alianca was founded in 1927 by Portugal's Bairrada Dellimited Region. According to Daniel Sogg of Wine Spectator, Alianca is one of the 20 best wine companies in the world. "Alianca is a family company that is one of the most advanced and modern wine producers in Portugal," he points out, of which "the quality has been a guide in the path to success on the recent crops." The wine companies honored offer stunning value, as well as distinctive flavors for the varietals from the region's leading wine regions. Casal Mendes' Vinho Branco stands out as a perfect Exhibit A of the concept of top quality for a song: Two workhorse white grapes -- Pederna and Azal Branco, both bit players in white Port and lighter white Portuguese blends -- lend their fresh appeal. Starting with its delicate straw color and its tempting scents of fresh citrus, it offers tangy, light flavors of lemon, lime, pineapple, and kiwi, as well as a lovely lift of acidity and a spunky, peppy finish of ginger and star anise. It's just the thing with a sizable range of fare: poultry, halibut, mahi mahi, sushi, and an array of cheese-based vegetarian entrees. Then again, it's great as a preprandial sipper, a way to take off the edge on a hot, gusty day. Best of all is its price tag: $6 or under, for a 750 ml bottle, at better wine shops.
As if the climate isn't enough for people here to contend with, consider the economy. I call the mess a total collapse, while my 84-year-old parents say it's worse than the original Great Depression they remember as elementary-school kids. It's ugly everywhere, but few places nastier than here in Orange County, the unofficial headquarters of the mortgage, financial, and contracting industries on the west coast. Rarely a day passes without news of a local mortgage or financial firm slashing drastic numbers of staffers, many to battle personal financial crises they'd never imagined.
Even for those who haven't had things so rough, the economic climate is nevertheless a definite downer. What's an oenophile to do when Wall Street takes massive belly flops of several hundred points each day?
Here's my advice: Think outside the box -- ahem, bottle -- for maximum quality for a minimal price. Over the last year, wine pundits have enthusiastically pointed to Spain and Portugal as superb sources for excellent, extremely affordable juice. The Better Half and I, long fans of tantalizingly priced Riojas, nod in agreement.
With that, here's what to pour when both the heat and the economic collapse get their angry on:
ALIANCA CASAL MENDES VINHO BRANCO NV/VINHO VERDE: ABOUT $6
Pederna and Azal Branco (both unidentified quantities). Alianca was founded in 1927 by Portugal's Bairrada Dellimited Region. According to Daniel Sogg of Wine Spectator, Alianca is one of the 20 best wine companies in the world. "Alianca is a family company that is one of the most advanced and modern wine producers in Portugal," he points out, of which "the quality has been a guide in the path to success on the recent crops." The wine companies honored offer stunning value, as well as distinctive flavors for the varietals from the region's leading wine regions. Casal Mendes' Vinho Branco stands out as a perfect Exhibit A of the concept of top quality for a song: Two workhorse white grapes -- Pederna and Azal Branco, both bit players in white Port and lighter white Portuguese blends -- lend their fresh appeal. Starting with its delicate straw color and its tempting scents of fresh citrus, it offers tangy, light flavors of lemon, lime, pineapple, and kiwi, as well as a lovely lift of acidity and a spunky, peppy finish of ginger and star anise. It's just the thing with a sizable range of fare: poultry, halibut, mahi mahi, sushi, and an array of cheese-based vegetarian entrees. Then again, it's great as a preprandial sipper, a way to take off the edge on a hot, gusty day. Best of all is its price tag: $6 or under, for a 750 ml bottle, at better wine shops.
Monday, October 20, 2008
After an enforced sabbatical, I'm ready for the good stuff
Many apologies for being away so long.
Not only did our computer go on the fritz for several days last week, I did, too: An early-season flu KO'ed me Oct. 10, leaving me with the mental and physical energy of a garden slug. As a result, I took a week-long sabbatical from wine, downing TheraFlu Severe Cold Formula, NyQuil, and Early Times toddies. (Why deplete what little there is of your tiny wine collection when you know full well that your taste buds wouldn't be able to discern Arbor Mist from '61 Petrus?) By now, I'm almost back to normal, as is my palate ... provided it hasn't been assaulted too badly by a week's worth of cold meds. No matter: I'll talk about one of my top wine finds of the year, one that The Better Half and I discovered at the end of July.
On the last Sunday of July, we made the 100-mile drive to Julian, a rustic 19th-century mining town 4,235 feet above sea level in northeastern San Diego County. About 1,600 folks are year-round residents of this artsy-quaint locale, an official California Historic Landmark that bursts its seams each autumn with tourists celebrating the town's Apple Days festival. After about three hours of hoofing around town that sun-splashed afternoon checking out the town's historic sites, we strolled into the tasting room of Witch Creek Winery (http://www.witchcreekwinery.com/) to see for ourselves what was behind the wines' eye-catching labels.
WITCH CREEK WINERY 2006 AGLIANICO/VALLE DE GUADALUPE: $16
Established 15 years ago in Carlsbad, Witch Creek Winery is named after a small waterway near the northern San Diego County town of Ramona. The winery itself sources its grapes from some rather esoteric regions, most notably Valle de Guadalupe in northwestern Mexico, roughly 14 miles north of Ensenada. The fruit goes into small-production wines, termed by their vignerons as "rich, full bodied, and well balanced." While oenophiles can find plenty of pleasure from Witch Creek's reserve Cab, Merlot, and Sauvignon Blanc, it's the lesser-known varietals that really sing. (Kudos to the Wodehouse family, the founders of Witch Creek Winery, for having the vision to go with a host of Italian and Spanish grapes -- Nebbiolo, Tempranillo, and Sangiovese, for starters -- that thrive in their Californian and Mexican vineyards.) The star of the show, however, is the '06 Aglianico. If the name of the varietal doesn't ring a bell, don't fret; it's a grape from the southern Italian regions of Campania and Basilicata that nearly always ends up in a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. In its Italian incarnation, Aglianico makes for hearty, boisterous, full-flavored drinking -- which, interestingly, is the polar opposite of its Mexican counterpart.
Pretty, soft, and exquisitely balanced are the words we repeated as we plumbed the Aglianico's character. The juice is truly a charmer, starting with its ruby-red hue and continuing with its appealing, fresh nose of Bing cherries, raspberries, and crabapples. Add lovely and subtle hints of black pepper, cloves, leather, and smoke to the appealing fruit flavors -- as well as a supple, rounded notes of lilac and pepper on the gently lingering finish -- and you've found a genuinely food-worthy wine with more pairing possibilities than can be imagined. It'll drink well, and distinctively, for another three or four years. (Need more info? The '06 Aglianico was awarded a bronze medal at the San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition earlier this year.)
Is there a negative side to this beauty? Sadly, yes: The manager of the Julian tasting room told us that the head folks at Witch Creek make sure that their wine is available only at their tasting sites (Julian and Carlsbad), or by phone or online order. On the other hand, its modest price tag -- $20 -- more than compensates for its relative inaccessibility.
After finishing this entry, I'm more than ready to make toddies a thing of the past.
Not only did our computer go on the fritz for several days last week, I did, too: An early-season flu KO'ed me Oct. 10, leaving me with the mental and physical energy of a garden slug. As a result, I took a week-long sabbatical from wine, downing TheraFlu Severe Cold Formula, NyQuil, and Early Times toddies. (Why deplete what little there is of your tiny wine collection when you know full well that your taste buds wouldn't be able to discern Arbor Mist from '61 Petrus?) By now, I'm almost back to normal, as is my palate ... provided it hasn't been assaulted too badly by a week's worth of cold meds. No matter: I'll talk about one of my top wine finds of the year, one that The Better Half and I discovered at the end of July.
On the last Sunday of July, we made the 100-mile drive to Julian, a rustic 19th-century mining town 4,235 feet above sea level in northeastern San Diego County. About 1,600 folks are year-round residents of this artsy-quaint locale, an official California Historic Landmark that bursts its seams each autumn with tourists celebrating the town's Apple Days festival. After about three hours of hoofing around town that sun-splashed afternoon checking out the town's historic sites, we strolled into the tasting room of Witch Creek Winery (http://www.witchcreekwinery.com/) to see for ourselves what was behind the wines' eye-catching labels.
WITCH CREEK WINERY 2006 AGLIANICO/VALLE DE GUADALUPE: $16
Established 15 years ago in Carlsbad, Witch Creek Winery is named after a small waterway near the northern San Diego County town of Ramona. The winery itself sources its grapes from some rather esoteric regions, most notably Valle de Guadalupe in northwestern Mexico, roughly 14 miles north of Ensenada. The fruit goes into small-production wines, termed by their vignerons as "rich, full bodied, and well balanced." While oenophiles can find plenty of pleasure from Witch Creek's reserve Cab, Merlot, and Sauvignon Blanc, it's the lesser-known varietals that really sing. (Kudos to the Wodehouse family, the founders of Witch Creek Winery, for having the vision to go with a host of Italian and Spanish grapes -- Nebbiolo, Tempranillo, and Sangiovese, for starters -- that thrive in their Californian and Mexican vineyards.) The star of the show, however, is the '06 Aglianico. If the name of the varietal doesn't ring a bell, don't fret; it's a grape from the southern Italian regions of Campania and Basilicata that nearly always ends up in a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. In its Italian incarnation, Aglianico makes for hearty, boisterous, full-flavored drinking -- which, interestingly, is the polar opposite of its Mexican counterpart.
Pretty, soft, and exquisitely balanced are the words we repeated as we plumbed the Aglianico's character. The juice is truly a charmer, starting with its ruby-red hue and continuing with its appealing, fresh nose of Bing cherries, raspberries, and crabapples. Add lovely and subtle hints of black pepper, cloves, leather, and smoke to the appealing fruit flavors -- as well as a supple, rounded notes of lilac and pepper on the gently lingering finish -- and you've found a genuinely food-worthy wine with more pairing possibilities than can be imagined. It'll drink well, and distinctively, for another three or four years. (Need more info? The '06 Aglianico was awarded a bronze medal at the San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition earlier this year.)
Is there a negative side to this beauty? Sadly, yes: The manager of the Julian tasting room told us that the head folks at Witch Creek make sure that their wine is available only at their tasting sites (Julian and Carlsbad), or by phone or online order. On the other hand, its modest price tag -- $20 -- more than compensates for its relative inaccessibility.
After finishing this entry, I'm more than ready to make toddies a thing of the past.
Friday, October 10, 2008
Albarino: a classy white that deserves much more love
Stop me if you've heard me say this before, but here's my advice whenever you've got a chance to try a varietal or a region you've never sampled before: Take the bull by the horns -- or, rather, the glass by the stem -- and go for the gusto.
(Besides, I'd mentioned in my first blog that I'd focus on varietals, regions, and labels that routinely miss the attention of better-known wine mavens and publications. With that in mind, I went ahead and wrote about -- what else? -- California Cabs. Talk about my going back on my own word!)
Anyway, to stick with my original concept of writing about under-the-radar wines, I'll get going with one of my all-time favorite white varietals: Albarino. A white varietal that's native to both the Rias Biaxas region of northwest Spain and the Vinho Verde region of Portugal, it first came to our attention in early 2006 when The Better Half and I visited SecondEmpire (http://www.second-empire.com/) during a trip to Raleigh, N.C. Since we both were in an adventurous mood while we checked out SecondEmpire's wine menu, we both agreed upon a Spanish white with an exotic-sounding name and a mouth-watering description of its flavors. And while the '04 Albarino we'd had with our meal (I can't remember the wine's producer or label, to my regret) was still recovering from the final stages of bottle shock, its vibrant, distinctive scents and flavors of citrus, peach, passion fruit, and lime with a hint of "wet rocks" minerality really rang my bells. Since then, I've been on a mission to locate this crisp, intensely lovely and distinctive Spanish white.
Unfortunately, the chances of your local grocery store's stocking Albarino are about as good as being able to purchase the Brooklyn Bridge for a five-spot. That's why it's worth it to drive to your local top-flight wine shop and make a beeline to the "Spanish Whites" section. (With gas hovering around $3.50 a gallon, you might even want to ask a fellow wine fan to carpool with you, just in case you live a goodly distance from your nearest wine shop.) One positive trend of Albarinos is their increasing affordability: When TBH and I had our first sip of the varietal almost three years ago, it was often priced slightly north of $20. In October '08, however, a typical bottle of this shellfish-friendly white will now set you back $15 or a bit less. If that isn't good wine news, what is?
Here's one of my favorite Albarinos. If your local wine shop doesn't have it in stock, ask the buyer to see if he or she would consider including it as a regular item. (It's a worthy point. Truth be told, how many wine shops are overstocked on Albarino?) If the answer's no, be ready to special-order a case. Of course, you'll need to pay ahead of time, but you'll probably get the standard 10 percent discount on a case purchase.
LICIA 2005-06 ALBARINO/RIAS BIAXAS: ABOUT $14
100% Albarino. Long recognized as Spain’s major white grape, Albarino hails from Rias Biaxas, a region in the northwestern portion of the country. The varietal itself is one of the world’s most exotic and memorable, thanks to its complex aromas and flavors -– lemon, lime, apricot, peach, white pepper, ginger, and anise -– mixed with its intense acidity, its surprisingly full body, and distinctive “spritziness.” Not only does the Licia Albarino offer everything that makes this varietal so distinctive, it pulls everything together with elegance and balance. Since world-class Albarinos under $20 are about as common as Halley’s Comet, this bright (and totally affordable) star in the wine universe is one to relish. It’s an understatement to say it’s a natural with paella, mahi-mahi, shellfish, or poultry.
~ Cheers!
(Besides, I'd mentioned in my first blog that I'd focus on varietals, regions, and labels that routinely miss the attention of better-known wine mavens and publications. With that in mind, I went ahead and wrote about -- what else? -- California Cabs. Talk about my going back on my own word!)
Anyway, to stick with my original concept of writing about under-the-radar wines, I'll get going with one of my all-time favorite white varietals: Albarino. A white varietal that's native to both the Rias Biaxas region of northwest Spain and the Vinho Verde region of Portugal, it first came to our attention in early 2006 when The Better Half and I visited SecondEmpire (http://www.second-empire.com/) during a trip to Raleigh, N.C. Since we both were in an adventurous mood while we checked out SecondEmpire's wine menu, we both agreed upon a Spanish white with an exotic-sounding name and a mouth-watering description of its flavors. And while the '04 Albarino we'd had with our meal (I can't remember the wine's producer or label, to my regret) was still recovering from the final stages of bottle shock, its vibrant, distinctive scents and flavors of citrus, peach, passion fruit, and lime with a hint of "wet rocks" minerality really rang my bells. Since then, I've been on a mission to locate this crisp, intensely lovely and distinctive Spanish white.
Unfortunately, the chances of your local grocery store's stocking Albarino are about as good as being able to purchase the Brooklyn Bridge for a five-spot. That's why it's worth it to drive to your local top-flight wine shop and make a beeline to the "Spanish Whites" section. (With gas hovering around $3.50 a gallon, you might even want to ask a fellow wine fan to carpool with you, just in case you live a goodly distance from your nearest wine shop.) One positive trend of Albarinos is their increasing affordability: When TBH and I had our first sip of the varietal almost three years ago, it was often priced slightly north of $20. In October '08, however, a typical bottle of this shellfish-friendly white will now set you back $15 or a bit less. If that isn't good wine news, what is?
Here's one of my favorite Albarinos. If your local wine shop doesn't have it in stock, ask the buyer to see if he or she would consider including it as a regular item. (It's a worthy point. Truth be told, how many wine shops are overstocked on Albarino?) If the answer's no, be ready to special-order a case. Of course, you'll need to pay ahead of time, but you'll probably get the standard 10 percent discount on a case purchase.
LICIA 2005-06 ALBARINO/RIAS BIAXAS: ABOUT $14
100% Albarino. Long recognized as Spain’s major white grape, Albarino hails from Rias Biaxas, a region in the northwestern portion of the country. The varietal itself is one of the world’s most exotic and memorable, thanks to its complex aromas and flavors -– lemon, lime, apricot, peach, white pepper, ginger, and anise -– mixed with its intense acidity, its surprisingly full body, and distinctive “spritziness.” Not only does the Licia Albarino offer everything that makes this varietal so distinctive, it pulls everything together with elegance and balance. Since world-class Albarinos under $20 are about as common as Halley’s Comet, this bright (and totally affordable) star in the wine universe is one to relish. It’s an understatement to say it’s a natural with paella, mahi-mahi, shellfish, or poultry.
~ Cheers!
Thursday, October 9, 2008
Is a "big name" any guarantee of quality? Hardly
And to think we'd waited six years for this ...
Shortly before Christmas '02, The Better Half and I attended a holiday party, hosted by the founders of a local wine club. (When I use the phrase wine club, I don't mean the sort that a person joins to have two wines sent to his or her home each month. This club, truth be told, is merely a gathering of folks who, despite their claims of being on the lookout for fine wine, are happiest guzzling down grade-Z plonk guaranteed to burn throats and provide two-day hangovers.)
Anyway, one time-honored tradition of the group's annual holiday shindig was the gift exchange. Lucky recipients found themselves with a decent bottle, whereas less-fortunate ones ended up with stuff that'd make Robert Parker award Beringer White Zinfandel with a score of 95. When we took our wine out of the bag -- a '99 Rodney Strong Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon -- fellow partiers murmured "ooh" and "ahh."
Last month, we learned, that bottle most definitely did not deserve their adoration.
One of the results of the economy's free fall is our dining creatively. That's also a result of TBH's being laid off in January 2006 from his terrific executive position, as was everyone else from his department, from the massive insurance company for which he toiled for nearly 16 years. Right now, he's earning about a third of his former salary as a manager of Internet car sales. What this means, kind reader, is that a birthday dinner in 2008 means heading out to Mimi's Cafe with a bottle primed for a $1 corkage. (Before his layoff, our b-day celebrations involved going to pretty great spots in downtown Long Beach -- The Madison, Sir Winston's, L'Opera, or The Sky Room -- all places where it's easy to part with $250 for a pre-dinner drink, an appetizer, a bottle of wine, two entrees, an after-dinner cordial, and a dessert.)
Anyway, my birthday dinner was our chance to sample that '99 Rodney Strong. "I'll bet it's become really rich and elegant by now," TBH murmured, pulling it from our wine rack shortly before we left for Mimi's.
Rich and elegant, unfortunately, were hardly fitting discriptors for this dull, generic juice.
Shortly before Christmas '02, The Better Half and I attended a holiday party, hosted by the founders of a local wine club. (When I use the phrase wine club, I don't mean the sort that a person joins to have two wines sent to his or her home each month. This club, truth be told, is merely a gathering of folks who, despite their claims of being on the lookout for fine wine, are happiest guzzling down grade-Z plonk guaranteed to burn throats and provide two-day hangovers.)
Anyway, one time-honored tradition of the group's annual holiday shindig was the gift exchange. Lucky recipients found themselves with a decent bottle, whereas less-fortunate ones ended up with stuff that'd make Robert Parker award Beringer White Zinfandel with a score of 95. When we took our wine out of the bag -- a '99 Rodney Strong Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon -- fellow partiers murmured "ooh" and "ahh."
Last month, we learned, that bottle most definitely did not deserve their adoration.
One of the results of the economy's free fall is our dining creatively. That's also a result of TBH's being laid off in January 2006 from his terrific executive position, as was everyone else from his department, from the massive insurance company for which he toiled for nearly 16 years. Right now, he's earning about a third of his former salary as a manager of Internet car sales. What this means, kind reader, is that a birthday dinner in 2008 means heading out to Mimi's Cafe with a bottle primed for a $1 corkage. (Before his layoff, our b-day celebrations involved going to pretty great spots in downtown Long Beach -- The Madison, Sir Winston's, L'Opera, or The Sky Room -- all places where it's easy to part with $250 for a pre-dinner drink, an appetizer, a bottle of wine, two entrees, an after-dinner cordial, and a dessert.)
Anyway, my birthday dinner was our chance to sample that '99 Rodney Strong. "I'll bet it's become really rich and elegant by now," TBH murmured, pulling it from our wine rack shortly before we left for Mimi's.
Rich and elegant, unfortunately, were hardly fitting discriptors for this dull, generic juice.
RODNEY STRONG 1999 CABERNET SAUVIGNON RESERVE/SONOMA COUNTY: ABOUT $20
For starters, the nose was as plain and one-dimensional as any I've ever tried in the last decade. Even after we'd swirled the wine in our glasses for five minutes, we were able to pick up only two aromas: plum and prune. In fact, one sip reminded me of a glass of Sunsweet Prune Juice I'd had a few years ago.
Roughly 25 minutes after that, once we were ready for our second glass -- we took our time with that first one with our French onion soup -- tiny notes of black pepper and smoke emerged in both the scent and the flavor. Regrettably, the plum/prune essences became flatter with extended aeration, making the wine itself taste like stale prunes. (Did I forget the wine's ultra-short finish?) To its credit, its full, soft mouthfeel and laid-back tannins cooperated politely with a blackened ribeye we'd had for our dinner entree, as well as a milk-chocolate mousse pie -- an on-the-house birthday treat from our Mimi's server.
With each sip of the Rodney Strong, we remembered the adoring comments made by our fellow party guests from that holiday party nearly six years ago. "Somehow, I just don't think they'd have gone on like that if they knew how dull the wine turned out to be," TBH commented. "Don't bet on it," I replied. "If they had the kind of taste I thought they had, they'd have given it a standing ovation." My bottom line: This bottle, which pushed $20 while it was available in wine shops a few years ago, is far and away one of the lowest-achieving wines we've had in more than a decade, making it the Spicoli of the vineyard. By comparison, the non-vintage Foxhorn "American" Cabernet Sauvignon -- y'know, the magnum that retails for four bones in grocery stores -- shows itself like a 96-point Wine Spectator classic.
Make no mistake, I'm delighted that we had a wonderful birthday dinner, filled with engaging conversation and good humor, given how low on funds we are. If only we could've brought a different, and undoubtedly more intruiging, wine ...
Cheers!
Greetings ... and meet my first under-the-radar wine winner
Over the last few decades, wine fans have been treated to the expertise and elegant prose of a variety of writers, most notably the editors and writers of Wine Enthusiast and Wine Spectator . Their years of experience in the field itself, as well as their deft way with the written word, marks them as respected professionals the world over.
With their accomplishments uppermost in mind, however, I'll share my own wine-related discoveries, adventures, and joys to readers in "Musings of a Wino," my individual look at a variety of wines, varietals, winemakers, and regions too often overlooked by high-profile -- and handsomely paid -- wine experts. If the troubled economy has dampened wine fans' hopes of locating quality juice, they shouldn't despair: The vast majority of wines I'll review in upcoming blogs are surprisingly easy on the wallet. (Yes, Virginia, it's true: You can enjoy a gorgeously balanced Bordeaux, a plush California Cabernet Sauvignon, or an elegantly nuanced red Burgundy for less than $20.)
Introductions aside, I'm eager to introduce you to one wine I've raved about since I first sampled it two years ago. The varietal is familiar, but the vineyards' location definitely isn't:
BEARTRAP CANYON "BEAR PAW" CABERNET SAUVIGNON 2001/ANGELES NATIONAL FOREST: ABOUT $19
100% Cabernet Sauvignon. You never know where the next mind-blowing wine will show up. We found this beauty at last year's Orange County Fair: a sumptuous, complex, memorable Cab that's everything the varietal should be. Bill and Elaine Mills, founders and owners of BearTrap Canyon Winery, discovered a sublime location to plant their six acres of vines: on a slope 4,300 feet above sea level roughly 10 miles from the tiny town of Acton in the foothills of the Angeles National Forest. That's where they've cultivated their Cabernet Sauvignon grapes for more than 15 years. (The crush, wine making, and cellaring take place in Santa Barbara County, with the juice seeing 20 to 24 months of aging in French oak barrels.) Bill and Elaine's meticulous care in their winecraft is evident: Seductive, full aromas and flavors of blackcurrant, blackberry, plum, black pepper, nutmeg, cloves, and a hint of smoke entice, while the velvety mouthfeel and hauntingly spicy finish linger on the palate. Make no mistake: This is one of the best, most elegant California Cabs I've ever enjoyed -- and an astonishing bargain, too, at its suggested retail price of $19. (Note: At this writing, Bear Paw is available at a few quality wine shops in northern Los Angeles County. If making that trek is out of the question, contact the folks at BearTrap at http://www.beartrapcanyon.com/ to place an order.)
With their accomplishments uppermost in mind, however, I'll share my own wine-related discoveries, adventures, and joys to readers in "Musings of a Wino," my individual look at a variety of wines, varietals, winemakers, and regions too often overlooked by high-profile -- and handsomely paid -- wine experts. If the troubled economy has dampened wine fans' hopes of locating quality juice, they shouldn't despair: The vast majority of wines I'll review in upcoming blogs are surprisingly easy on the wallet. (Yes, Virginia, it's true: You can enjoy a gorgeously balanced Bordeaux, a plush California Cabernet Sauvignon, or an elegantly nuanced red Burgundy for less than $20.)
Introductions aside, I'm eager to introduce you to one wine I've raved about since I first sampled it two years ago. The varietal is familiar, but the vineyards' location definitely isn't:
BEARTRAP CANYON "BEAR PAW" CABERNET SAUVIGNON 2001/ANGELES NATIONAL FOREST: ABOUT $19
100% Cabernet Sauvignon. You never know where the next mind-blowing wine will show up. We found this beauty at last year's Orange County Fair: a sumptuous, complex, memorable Cab that's everything the varietal should be. Bill and Elaine Mills, founders and owners of BearTrap Canyon Winery, discovered a sublime location to plant their six acres of vines: on a slope 4,300 feet above sea level roughly 10 miles from the tiny town of Acton in the foothills of the Angeles National Forest. That's where they've cultivated their Cabernet Sauvignon grapes for more than 15 years. (The crush, wine making, and cellaring take place in Santa Barbara County, with the juice seeing 20 to 24 months of aging in French oak barrels.) Bill and Elaine's meticulous care in their winecraft is evident: Seductive, full aromas and flavors of blackcurrant, blackberry, plum, black pepper, nutmeg, cloves, and a hint of smoke entice, while the velvety mouthfeel and hauntingly spicy finish linger on the palate. Make no mistake: This is one of the best, most elegant California Cabs I've ever enjoyed -- and an astonishing bargain, too, at its suggested retail price of $19. (Note: At this writing, Bear Paw is available at a few quality wine shops in northern Los Angeles County. If making that trek is out of the question, contact the folks at BearTrap at http://www.beartrapcanyon.com/ to place an order.)
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