Random Ramblings on Food and Wine

Millesime Bio 2012

2012-01-30T12:35:00.004-05:00

Every year, a horde of thirsty wine buyers makes its way to Montpellier for the annual Organic and Biodynamic wines trade show, Millesime Bio. It doesn’t hurt that the show takes place in the South of France, where the ambient temperature upon arrival was 60F. For reference, despite a relatively mild winter, when I left New York it was 28F and we were delayed 2 hours while the plane was de-iced. Lovely.

Le Choo-Choo arrives
Usually I fly straight from Charles de Gaulle, but this year I took the TGV from the airport to Montpellier. Happily enough, I ended up doing a Grand Tour of France through some of my favorite wine regions, heading East through Champagne, South through Burgundy and the Rhône, then West through the Languedoc to get to my goal. And it only took 4 hours! Looking out the window as we flew at airliner speeds, I had to smile: even now, with years of experience under my belt, it always amazes me that such a small country (slightly larger than the state of New York) has so many different landscapes. From the flat green fields and farms of the north to the undulating rocky forests in the East to the dry bare stone of the South, this country has scenery for everyone.

Welcome to a wine trade show
The trade show itself is several halls worth of wines that have been made according to Organic and Biodynamic principles. It’s also (sadly) still an excuse for a lot of people to make a lot of bad wine. That said, and my blazé attitude aside, there are some really stunning things to be found these days. Of course, this also depends on the price, but that’s the nature of the business (and a business it is, make no mistake about that).

Row upon row of wine
When these wines taste good, they’re great, really bright, living things, expressive of their origins and of the care the winemaker put into the vines and the winemaking. When they’re bad, they can (sometimes literally) smell and taste like shit. Bad Organic/Biodynamic wines take on an odd, nearly BO-like aroma and get sharp spiky notes in the mouth. Good Organic/Biodynamic wines, to put it mildly, go down smooth and feel alive, with vibrant fruit and lovely acidity and minerality.

Pascal Pibaleau at his stand
The first thing that hits you when you walk through the door is the smell: it smells like WINE. And that just brings a smile to my face. For two and a half days, I wandered the tables of Millesime Bio, stopping to see people I knew and meet people I needed to know. I also had the chance to hang out with one of my winemakers, Pascal Pibaleau, who makes biodynamic sparkling, whites and reds in Azay-le-Rideau in the Loire (yummy stuff too but I am biased, of course). By the end of Day One my teeth hurt like Hell, and I’m pretty sure I yelped the moment the toothpaste hit them that first night (for those who don’t know, young wines tend to have lots of acidity, and that sensitizes the enamel on your teeth).

Like an evil wine-swilling Santa Claus, I had made my list and checked it twice, I knew which wines were naughty (already imported) and which ones were nice (undiscovered). Let’s face it, you can’t go in there without some homework: it would be like visiting the Louvre with no real clue of what works of art you wanted to see. You’d end up getting lost for days and someone would have to call Seal Team 6 to rescue you.

And for the record, it’s not an orgy of foie gras and cheese (sadly). In fact, most of the meals were pretty well-balanced, though the best part was sitting with various random winemakers and trying their wines at the table. I mean, wine is made to be both convivial and served with food, so this was a great showcase for them. As opposed to the relatively scientific method employed when standing in front of a table trying not to spit wine into your neighbor’s glass.

I will say that I still do love going to a table full of anticipatory dread, sort of like a child on Christmas Day running to the tree, hoping to unwrap something good but also hoping it’s not brown socks. More often than not in my line of work, it’s brown socks (some of these wines actually smelled/tasted similar to what I imagine old brown socks would be like). The worst part is finding something that’s delicious and checks off all your requirements, only to discover that it’s WAY too expensive. Talk about deflating your dreams…

On this trip, I found a few wineries I would love to work with, but there’s a lot of negotiations to be had before any hard decisions can be made. I was also lucky enough to have the time to visit some wineries I am working with south of Montpellier (there’s nothing like a few hours in the warm sun on a mid-January day to revive the batteries), as well as see another one of my winemakers, Christine Deleuze of Clos Bagatelle in St Chinian (while she doesn’t make Organic/Biodynamic wines, she does make some damn delicious ones using sustainable practices - again, I am shamelessly unapologetically biased, deal with it).

But it’s not easy: you’re on your feet all day from 8am to 5-7pm, there are long dinners afterwards with customers or winemakers, and your liver is just taking a heck of a beating even with the spitting, not to mention what must be happening to your teeth. And frankly, let’s not forget when you stumble onto a bad wine and have to remain poker-faced as the winemaker tells you his family’s been doing this for hundreds of years and thinks they’ve got the secret to success. Good luck with that one.

All in all, however, I am happy to report that there is a definitive qualitative trend that’s pointing upward. More people are making good Organic/Biodynamic wines at relatively affordable prices than at any other time. All it takes is the right importer to bring them in (Me! Me!).
Cheers!

Annnnnnd...

2012-01-28T14:41:00.006-05:00

After a tad over a year of posting on a f*$&#ng pain in the ass server, we're back where we started, on Blogspot. Their ease of use and clean lines make us think we really screwed up by going somewhere else, so we sincerely apologize.

Come back and I promise to blather on incessantly about the wines I try to import into the US, I promise.

Oh, and now we're also on Twitter, which I'm pretty sure is a sign of the Apocalypse... But if you want to follow us, we're at @VinotasWines

I have to say, it's good to be back.
Cheers!

Le Beaujolais Nouveau Grolleau Pétillant est arrivé!

2010-11-21T12:28:00.007-05:00

La Perlette Sparkling Grolleau
I know all the signs say the Beaujolais Nouveau has arrived, but screw that fruity banana-y crap. How about some real wine? Something that'll make you sit up and go "Whoa". How about some Sparkling Grolleau?

Pascal Pibaleau's wonderfully eccentric and deliciously different sparkling wine has finally landed, just in time for Turkey Day. Grolleau is usually made into innocuous still red and rosé, but in Pascal's hands it's turned into a sparkling jewel. This wine has character, is alive, and truly tastes unique. It certainly doesn't hurt that it's from a biodynamic Loire Valley producer in Azay-le-Rideau. After manually harvesting the grapes, Pascal halts the alcoholic fermentation partway through, then lets the wine sit on its lees until disgorgement, at which time no sulfur and no dosage are added. You end up with a lightly sparkling ("perlant" in French) wine that starts off fruity and ends with a super dry and rather nutty aspect. How cool is that?

And I know it's stupid, but I really do love that label. At first you see a grape vine with bubbles rising from it, but take a longer look and you see something else, something more whimsical. This reflects Pascal's character. Like me, he doesn't take himself too seriously, though he is dead serious about the quality of his wines.

So if you're looking for an affordable (under-$20) sparkling rosé for Thanksgiving or for the end-of-year holidays, uncork (or better yet, saber) a bottle of Pascal Pibaleau's Sparkling Grolleau La Perlette.

Man, I love this stuff.
Cheers!

A Day on the Farm

2010-08-09T17:51:00.008-04:00

Well, summer's the slow season in the wine business, so I've been planning for Fall and watching my expenses. Well, trying to do that last one. And, it's been brutally hot in New York, I mean just disgusting. So, an escape from the steamy city seemed in order last Saturday, damn the torpedoes. Of course, it just happened to also be one of the most beautiful days we've been blessed with in a long time, with barely a hint of humidity to glisten one's skin. Fantastic!

Heading north on the MetroNorth train, we found ourselves surrounded by lush greenery and a beautiful working farm, in all its colorful, smelly glory. It always amazes me that if you travel barely 20 miles due north of Manhattan and its steel and concrete canyons, you can find yourself in a wild oasis. Here, outside the picturesque town of Tarrytown, is the Blue Hill at Stone Barns farm complex.

Here, the "farm to table" concept is practiced to the utmost. Crops are rotated, animals change pastures with the seasons, and everything is self-sustaining. All the food grown here is used in the two Blue Hill restaurants, the one at the farm as well as the one down in the city.

Truly addictive tomatoes
As expected, the foodstuffs are incredibly tasty. In fact, looking at these tomatoes again, I know I'd do unholy things for more of them. Yes, they're that good, with snappy skin and juicy flesh that just screams REAL TOMATO.

Peppers anyone?
Peppers were bright and alive, but man those tomatoes... I'm in love. Did I mention that I'd do very naughty things for more of them?

As we wandered the grounds, we were observed by a happy looking herd of black and brown cows, lazing in the afternoon sun.

Elsewhere, a shed full of seemingly very happy turkeys gobble-gobbled and hopped around, looking at us with curiosity. Maybe we were the main attraction to them?

Further down the road, very big Berkshire pigs rolled around in the mud and snorted and followed their keepers to get their meal, also seemingly quite happy to be out and about and free to roam their pens. I'm no animal expert, having grown up mainly in cities, but these seemed really content and relaxed, never fearing people. There was definitely a relaxed air about the whole place. This probably translates into the quality of what is grown and made here, as we would discover later that night.

There were other sheds and small barns, where different things were stored. Here, French Rose garlic was hung to dry, the door open to let the breeze tease them.

In a greenhouse, onions sat in long rows, drying out slowly.

Lettuce, bright and vibrant, sat happily in the dirt of the greenhouse, soaking up the heat and light.

The path back to the restaurant was lit by brightly colored flowers, a welcome invitation to enjoy all the farm has to offer.

We sat down for an early dinner, knowing that Blue Hill here has no menu. It's just a tasting of what's fresh that day. You can, however, choose 5 or 8 courses. As you can imagine, we chose the long dinner, and settled in for what was to become one of the best meals I've eaten this year. Everything was so alive with flavor and color and aromas, I just wanted to bask in almost every dish's glory. I won't put up pictures to tease you, plus I'll be honest and say that I don't recall all that we ate (there were, as you can imagine, more than a few bottles of wine consumed as none of us was driving).

BUT, the main take-away from this experience was that when vegetables are grown in healthy conditions, and when animals are free to explore and roam at their leisure, everything tastes better and fresher and frankly cleaner. It just feels RIGHT. And that's something we should all be striving for, even in the cities.
Cheers!

Meet Champagne Bourgeois-Diaz

2010-07-18T14:01:00.009-04:00

Jérome Bourgeois, winemaker
Anyone who reads this blog knows I like Champagne. Heck, let's be honest, I LOVE Champagne. I do like other bubblies (especially Cremants and Perlants, some Cavas and Proseccos too), but the French stuff is where it's at for me. Maybe it's genetic, who knows? So as someone who represents small, high-quality growers, it's killed me that I couldn't find a good Champagne at the right price point. Until now.

Harvesting grapes
I was turned on to Champagne Bourgeois-Diaz in, of all places, Montpellier, which is in the South, nowhere near the Champagne region. A friend in the business in France proferred a glass and said "Tais-toi et bois" ("Shut up and drink"). Lo and behold, here was a gorgeous bubbly, tart with bright acidity and minerality, with lovely, lively fruit aspects. What is this, I inquired, and he showed me the bottle. A few quick calls and emails, and poof, here we are.

Stainless steel fermenting tanks
This tiny family-owned estate farms their own 7 hectares (17.29 acres), scattered around the town of Crouttes-sur-Marne, south-west of Reims. The vineyards are planted on clay and chalk soils, and composed of 55% Pinot Meunier, 30% Pinot Noir and 15% Chardonnay and have a south-west exposition. All the wines are made using a traditional basket press, with a minimal dosage (9g/l for the Brut), and while the basic cuvée is aged in stainless steel, the higher end bottlings see some light oak ageing.

Oak ageing some of the wines
Jérome Bourgeois, the young winemaker, believes in showcasing his terroirs, and this is evident in the final product, which is both reflective of the high quality fruit he gets and a platform for the land’s characteristics.

To achieve this purity of expression of the land's character, Jérome has gone biodynamic. What does this mean? No man-made chemicals are ever used, a careful ecological balance is maintained in the vineyard by allowing cover crops to grow between the rows (check out the wild-looking vineyard in the picture above), and the biodynamic calendar is scrupulously followed, among other things. Whether you believe in biodynamie or not, maintaining a healthy vineyard and not polluting the earth can't be half bad. And the end product reflects this: the wines are alive with an energy one doesn't find in the mass-market bubblies out there.

Filling the old-time basket press with Pinot Noir
Jérome currently makes four different cuvées:
-the Brut Distinguée (40% Pinot Meunier, 40% Chardonnay - of which 20% is vin de réserve - and 20% Pinot Noir);
-the Rosé Distinguée (an assemblage 40% Pinot Meunier, 40% Chardonnay and 20% Pinot Noir, of which 18% is AOC Champagne still red wine);
-the Cuvée du Fils is a wine that sees some oak-ageing and is composed of 40% Pinot Meunier, 30% Pinot Noir and 30% Chardonnay (half of which sees wood);
-Lastly, the 2004 Le Millesime is a blend of 50% Pinot Noir and 50% Chardonnay, aged in oak barrels until Jérome feels it’s ready.

Look for this label soon!
Best of all, Jérome is not afraid to experiment: his next projects will be a Zero Brut (no dosage added) and a Rosé de Saignée (meaning extended skin contact to extract the necessary color and flavor profiles).

I will be showing these wines around to various distributors in the next few weeks, so hopefully one of them will see the light and pick him up. How cool would it be to serve these wines sometime this Fall? Wish me luck!
Cheers!

Happy Birthday America!

2010-07-09T11:18:00.003-04:00

Ribs, New York City style
Well, it's summer in the city, so the wine business is slow and sleepy. What's a budding entrepreneur with a growing business to do? I suppose it means I should be travelling, but I'm trying to watch expenses and set up sales networks for the Fall. I am also cooking at home much more, and this July 4th was no exception.

Living in Manhattan means no outdoor space unless one is extremely lucky or rich or both. I am none of those. So I make do with what I can. This July 4th, I couldn't BBQ (the neighbors, building management and the FDNY complained last time when I tried doing something with an open flame inside my apartment...), so I resorted instead to slow-cooked Asian-spiced baby-back ribs (see pic above).

Ribs, sauteed bok choy and pea shoots with mushrooms, fluffy rice
Cooking the ribs slowly for 3 hours at 300 degrees and finishing them in the broiler results in meltingly tender meat. But what wine to serve with this rich meat and sauce combination? This being July 4th, I opted for American red wines, with one Frenchie just to celebrate my background. Zinfandel has worked in the past, and this year was no exception, a 2002 Turley Juvenile Zinfandel holding up to the strongly flavored marinade. A 2006 Bella Zinfandel was too sweet and oaky, and surprisingly a 2005 Domaine la Milliere Chateauneuf du Pape Vieilles Vignes held its own.

Of course, once the reds were finished, we went straight to the bubbly. I mean, this is a celebration, right? Three bottles of NV Ganevat Cremant du Jura and one NV Champagne Pol Gardere ensured we were in a sprightly mood for the fireworks.

Watching the fireworks the civilized way
Watching fireworks in NYC means one of several things: crowding with your fellow sweaty, loud and obnoxious New Yorkers along the shores of the rivers to watch them live, getting invited to someone's place with a view, or staying at home in the air conditioning and turning on the TV. With temperatures in the mid-90s and high humidity, we opted for the latter. I think we chose well.
Cheers!

I Love New York: Sri Lankan Brunch

2010-06-14T17:43:00.004-04:00

I've said it many times before, but we really are blessed in this maddening, crazy city of ours. As a food and wine lover, this is doubly so. Oh, sure, anyone with enough money can hit the high-end places, but where's the fun in that? You're almost guaranteed a great experience (note I said almost, not always) every time. The real thrill is in finding that little hole in the wall with authentic food that delivers a great bang for the buck. While these still exist in Manhattan, it's becoming harder than ever to find them.

Which is why we headed to Staten Island with some friends this past weekend. Of course, there's another benefit to leaving Manhattan's steel and concrete canyons: you're reminded how beautiful Lady Liberty is, and how NYC is composed of islands and waterways that are woefully under-used (though, truth be told, this is changing). Best of all, of course, the picturesque ride on the ferry is free. Yes, you read that right, FREE. In one of the most expensive cities in the world, a 20-minute boat ride across NY Bay is completely FREE. Talk about a deal!

Sri Lanka is, from what my expat friends tell me, a gorgeous place with some amazingly delicious food, a feast for the eyes as well as for the palate. Despite a horrendously long civil war that recently ended, or maybe because of it, the food is filling and full of bright flavors, and frankly just looks very joyous. So when one of them recommended Sanrasa restaurant in Staten Island, I jumped at the chance to try something new.

To say I was not disappointed is putting it mildly. Yes, it was slightly spicy, but I like spicy food (whether my body likes it or not is another story). The buffet was full of aromatic curries: chicken curry (good), mutton curry (fantastic), fish curry (good), peas with garlic cloves (yummy but not sure anyone was kissing me after that, however...), delicious eggplant, and collard greens chopped up into tiny bits. Everything sits on a bed of saffron rice and vermicelli (see pic above), then it's all eaten together at the same time.

An earthy cashew sauce was added to the plate, and seemed to somehow bring everything together. Man, this was good but rich stuff!

And as if that wasn't enough, the waiter dropped off baskets of fried fish balls at our table, like little cannonballs of fishy goodness. You'd think this was all horrendously filling, and while it did fill me up temporarily, I soon found myself heading back to the buffet for more. Gluttony, you win!

On the ride back to Manhattan, we were chased (and eventually passed) by a feathered companion. Watching him glide quietly alongside us helped me digest this fantastic meal, and reminded me why I love this city so much. Sometimes you forget the riches that are right at your doorstep until you step outside of your little world.

Now, of course the big question: what wines should I bring next time?
Cheers!

Generosity

2010-06-01T19:35:00.004-04:00

Whoa, it's been a long time since I've posted anything here. I've been swamped with work but also personal stuff, so my focus has been, well, I guess you could say, somewhat fuzzy. That said, I have tried to find the time to enjoy some lovely meals with some very nice folks, which made me think a lot about this thing we call wine and our love of it. It all comes down to one over-riding habit, something we forget to appreciate when surrounded by a bevy of open bottles: generosity.

It's the one thing that binds all winelovers together, whether we know it or not. We collect these magnificent examples of winemaking, but what fun is it drinking them all alone? Appreciation of wine is inherently a social exercise, so we're almost forced to share it. Luckily, we can choose with whom we open those bottles, but still, the fact remains the same: someone is sharing a small treasure with someone else.

Whether it's a stunning bottle of 1996 Duval-Leroy Cuvee Femme that was opened with a Mother's Day dinner or a table of regular and HUGE bottles (above) sitting side by side while even more treasures are popped around them amidst a crowd, generosity is one of the reasons we love and share wine.

Other times it was lovely bottles of Burgundy, things that you don't just open on any night, but were opened for me at intimate, smaller dinners. Events like this remind me not just why I love wine, but why I like the people who are into wine.

And the generosity doesn't stop with wine, but with other things, in one case morels. These gorgeous little fungi are rare and expensive, yet were doled out like popcorn one night by a friend who never ceases to amaze me and yet never demands reciprocity (though I do try when I can!).

So the next time someone offers you a lovely bottle, don't underestimate how lucky you are to be sharing a drink with another person who thinks so highly of you. We take it for granted sometimes, but really we shouldn't. Generosity is certainly something we should raise a glass to. The world could use more of it, that's for sure.
Cheers!

The End of an Era

2010-04-28T14:58:00.006-04:00

At the dawn of the Internet, wine geeks gathered on various online fora, chatting and learning about the wines that they were so passionate about and discovering they weren't alone with this sickness we call a passion. Eventually, a few good sites evolved from the multitudes, rising to the top of the heap and really dominating all discussions about wine. Mark Squires' Bulletin Board on Robert Parker's website was, for a long time, the top dog in this pack of wine sites.

Like many others, I cut my teeth there when I first came into wine. The people there helped me fall in love with the grape, they shared a ton of information (from folks whose depth of knowledge still scares me), and became some of the most amazing friends I've ever had. Of course, it wasn't perfect, but what is? It was the best, most knowledgeable place to talk and learn about wine on the Internet. The amount of information about wine, winemaking, and wine storing there was incomparable. It truly was a vast, free resource for anyone interested in learning about wine.

But, as with all things, to this there came a time. Slowly, as the site grew in popularity and personalities (not all of whom were angels, it's true), the moderators began to tighten their fists, squashing dissent and any criticism of Robert Parker or of their heavy-handed ways. To paraphrase Princess Leia, the more you tighten your fist, the more winegeeks will slip between your fingers. And thus it came to pass. Eventually, a few split off after being run roughshod over and started up Wine Berserkers.

For a while the two coexisted, with a few other distant websites chattering about wine. An uneasy coexistence settled in, with both boards taking pot shots at each other. BUT, one could easily navigate from one to the other (unless you were banned from the Squires board - as far as I know no one is actually banned from Berserkers). While Berserkers encouraged free-wheeling (and occasionally sophomoric, to be honest) discussions about wine, Squires' censored all talk about its competition, whether blogs, boards or other critics. More and more people began to jump ship, sensing the end approaching.

And then the final blow came the other day, posted without notice or warning: the Squires Board was going to be only accessible to full-paying Robert Parker subscribers.

Why should you care if you're not a winegeek or wine collector?

Because despite all its faults and foibles, the Squires Wine Bulletin Board was one of the most knowledgeable places to learn about wine on the Internet. If you have any passing interest in the grape or how wines are made, this was the place to visit for information. And I'm not even referring to participation from Parker or other critics, which, frankly was minimal and contentious, to put it mildly. No, the regular people, people like you and me, were what really made that board special. Many had moved on, but their posts and tasting notes remained, like vestiges of an ancient civilization with lessons to teach future generations.

Now it's all locked away behind a door in a vault on a ship that is sinking rapidly. I am saddened by this heavy-handed, brutal and frankly unnecessary action. The business explanation doesn't cut it for me, sorry. This was about control and censorship, pure and simple.

But, amidst all this sadness, there is a bright light: (wine) life goes on, as many of the intelligent, experienced people who once made Squires' Bulletin Board interesting have moved on to Wine Berserkers. So there is hope in the universe of wine, despite the passing of a once great forum. I suggest you stop by, say hello, open a nice bottle of your favorite vino, and begin learning.

It's a wonderful journey that never ends.
Cheers!

I Love New York - Sripriphai Part Deux

2010-04-22T09:13:00.005-04:00

Yes, I've written about this place before, but frankly it's worth revisiting. Another hidden gem just outside the sacrosanct boundaries of Manhattan, this restaurant offers some of the best Thai food in the city, if not the best. I have a friend who says that another place, which I will visit soon, is better, but right now I'm sticking with Sripriphai.

Like most New Yorkers who live on this island, I tend to get myopic when it comes to travelling outside of my little universe. We can always find an excuse not to leave our little fortress of solitude: problems/delays with the subway, most of us don't have cars so moving about can get complicated, and bus service can take forever. However, a quick ride on the 7 line brings you to the wildly, colorfully diverse neighborhood of Woodside, Queens. This melting pot of cultures from all over the world offers something for everyone from everywhere. Literally. On one block, a mosque sits next to a Chinese take-out, which is near a Dollar Store, with an empanada joint next to it, and an old-school Italian pizza place is its neighbor.

What to drink...?
A visit to Sripriphai calls for a little forethought when it comes to wines. You can't just bring any red or white. This food is bright with pure colors, flavors and aromas, and sometimes very, very spicy. Most wines will get blown out of the glass. What you need is something with good acidity and/or something that has some residual sugar. Bubbles are a plus too. Which is where either Champagne (acidity and bubbles) or Riesling (residual sugar and acidity) come in handy.

Papaya salad
These types of wines can stand up to the intense flavors in these dishes. They can also carry through and cleanse your palate, preparing you for the next treat.

Fried tofu
Heck, the bubbles in Champagne can act as little scrubbers, cutting through the intense flavors that are inherent in some of these.

Fried watercress salad
Sugar in the Riesling acts as a protective layer when it comes to spicy plates, countering the spicy oils and also preparing your palate for what comes next.

Drunken noodles
Some of these dishes are quite extraordinary. Bright, vivacious, alive.

Red snapper with garlic sauce
They haven't been dumbed down for their American audience, they have maintained their authenticity and are true to themselves. Which is what I love, and respect.

Curried pork with beans
I am not certain stuff like this would fly outside of New York. Or at least it wouldn't do as well as this place has. Sripriphai used to be a tiny sliver of a restaurant. Now, it's a large establishment with a gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous back garden.

Chinese greens

Braised pork leg (amazing)

Curried noodles with chicken (insanely good)

We're stuffed, but dessert comes anyway: sticky rice with taro and banana
It's places like this, that have remained true to themselves, that remind me why I love New York sometimes. Despite the gentrification and Las Vegas-ification of a once proud city, you can still find restaurants that haven't sold out to the fast food crowd. They require you to sit, be patient, and enjoy both your food and your company. Take your time to discover them and you will be pleasantly rewarded.
Cheers!

Sripriphai
64-13 39th Avenue
Woodside, NY 11377
Tel# 718.899.9599

A Pause

2010-04-14T15:15:00.006-04:00

Happier Days
I've had many things happen to me in life so far, many good, many bad, some down-right awful. The worst was losing my father 12 years ago, just shy of his 70th. It was a sudden, wrenching loss, that left me and my family scrambling to pick up the pieces. He was an entrepreneur, and like me, didn't like being told what to do. He also had a hard time letting go of the reins of his company, so taking over after his passing was somewhat stressful, to be polite. Worse was the fact that I'd planned on leaving the industry we both worked in (fashion/textile) as even back then I could see which way the tide was flowing (hint: (far) Eastward). It also wasn't my passion, wine was a budding interest and I was curious about the business opportunities there. In essence, there was no future in our side of the economy, and I wanted out.

Instead, I found myself running a factory that made fabrics with 50+ employees in an industry that depressed me to no end and yet had no exit. I had always wanted to impress him, so I kept the family business going for another grueling and difficult 8 years before giving way to the winds of destiny. There were other issues involved, of course, but I wanted to prove to him (and myself) that I could succeed and provide as good a life as he had. But it would be impossible in the textile business.

My father pushed me to be better, to work harder, to keep an open mind, and to not be lazy (well, on that last one, there's still some work to be done). While it's true I hated to work for grades in high school (college was better as I could choose what to study), I got up every Saturday (and some Sunday) mornings at 5am, no matter how hungover, to go work at the factory. He forced me to keep pushing on despite all the obstacles.

Thus, I am trying to follow in his footsteps with Vinotas Selections. Sure, I blather on a lot about the wines I drink, the food I eat, and the places I visit. Sure, life can be (and has been) worse, I am not complaining. But behind all that eating and drinking and travelling, there's a lot of work being done. It's difficult work too, especially as I am not a good salesman, I can only push things that I believe in.

And it certainly hasn't been easy. But everytime I hesitate, everytime I think that perhaps something else would be easier, everytime I doubt myself, I see him, his shirt-sleeves rolled up, clambering over a 16-ton lace machine, covered in grease and oil. Just because he was the boss didn't mean he couldn't get his hands dirty. "Come on," he'd say, "get back to work."

So I'd like to take a little pause and say "Thanks, Dad". You taught me to push on despite all the problems, road-blocks, and dark days. You taught me to believe in myself and follow my passion and do what I thought was right. It's been a while since I said thank you and so I thought it should be said out loud, in public, so you and everyone knows how much I appreciated what you did for me. You made me the man I am today. And I hope you're proud of what I've done so far.

I miss you, Dad. OK, back to work.
Cheers!

Meet Pascal Pibaleau

2010-04-08T09:32:00.004-04:00

Christine and Pascal Pibaleau
I love this job. It isn't easy, there's lots of travel, I am constantly trying to show wholesalers why they should be picking up my wines, and I have to taste lots, and I do mean LOTS, of crappy wine. But the thing I love the most about this job is when I find something interesting, something that pops, something that makes me sit up and take notice.

Enter Pascal Pibaleau.

I had been looking for some Loire wines at the Angers Trade Show in February, and had been invited to a tasting of sparkling wines from the area. As someone who loves anything sparkly, I couldn't resist. However, I was pretty disappointed in most of the offerings: too much sugar, too much alcohol, or just completely out of balance for the most part. Except one.

A sparkling rosé called La Perlette, this wine had character, was alive, and truly tasted unique. The fact that it was from a biodynamic Loire Valley producer in Azay-le-Rideau only piqued my curiosity even more. As a wine geek, I thought it superbly cool that it was made from a red grape that has been derided by some of the biggest names in the business (Robert Parker, for one): Grolleau. There's very little of this left out there, so now I was practically salivating. And the price point was right where I needed it to be.

I caught up with Pascal at his stand and we began talking and tasting through his line-up of wines. He and his wife manage 15 hectares (37.06 acres) of vineyards in the Azay-le-Rideau appelation. These are planted on clay and limestone soils, where he practices biodynamic viticulture, so no man-made chemicals are used, everything's harvested by hand, and there's lots of care for the balance of life in his vineyards.

His whites, from the Chenin Blanc grape, are delicious, with white flowery notes backed up by hints of honey and wool. As is the custom in the area, he makes dry, off-dry, and sweet versions of them. His reds were very good as well, and of course there was his Perlette, made from Grolleau.

As I said earlier, La Perlette really caught my attention. This is manually harvested like everything else, and the wine made traditionally: the alcoholic fermentation is stopped before bottling. The wine is disgorged but no liqueur de dosage is added (the slightly sweet still wine that some Champenois add before bottling). The end result is an ever-so-slightly sparkling wine ("perlant" in French means very lightly bubbly, like tiny pearls on your tongue) with dry dark red fruit notes that are backed up by an earthy elegance and a long finish. It tastes like summer all year-round.

So I ask you to welcome Pascal to the Vinotas Selections family, where hopefully a wholesaler will see the potential in his wines and start selling them at a store or restaurant near you.
Cheers!

Pizza!

2010-03-29T06:39:00.006-04:00

The wild onion pizza
Damn that looks good, doesn't it? I love pizza. Actually, let me rephrase that, I love good pizza. Not the gooey, greasy, sloppy stuff you get at Ray's, Original Ray's, Famous Ray's, Famous Original Ray's or any iteration of Ray's that exists in the time-space continuum (I am convinced when we meet an alien race in outer space there will be a Ray's already there, with a greasy slice slowly congealing in its display).

While it's true that we are somewhat blessed in NYC with tons of pizza places, most serve awful slices of heart-rendingly bad oily dough piled high with cheap mozzarella cheese (insultingly called "mozzarell") and even cheaper toppings. This, to me, is an abomination.

No, I am talking about thin crust, fresh, steaming hot, straight from the oven pizza. The kind made with heart and soul and calloused hands, Department of Health rules be damned. The kind made to order, everyone wait your turn and be patient, quality needs time (somewhat like wine, eh?). I am talking about the kind of pizza you find at DiFara's, in Brooklyn.

I have to say, the first time I went, a few years ago, I wasn't impressed. I know, I know, to pizza aficionados, this is like saying to an art lover that the statue of David is no big deal. No, I made several mistakes the first time I went: it was in the middle of August, when the sidewalks were so hot that you could literally fry an egg. Inside, with an 800F oven working overtime, it was even hotter. We were actually stepping outside into 95F weather to get air. So, as you can imagine, my palate and I were both somewhat wilted. In addition, there was no line, just a mob scene, everyone yelling orders, and if Dominick heard you, yipee.

The Master at work
I was impressed, however, with his dedication to quality despite the heat. Every pie was hand-made from superb ingredients, and he fearlessly checked each pie's doneness by lifting it with his un-protected hands. WHILE it was still in the oven, mind you. Last but not least, we went on a Saturday, so the wait was eternal and the crowd huge.

This time, we went in the middle of the day on a Wednesday. Perfect timing, and it was sunny but cool outside. Dominck DeMarco's daughter now takes your order, so the mob scene of old has been replaced with a somewhat orderly crowd of people waiting relatively patiently and drooling in anticipation. Dom still makes everything by hand, without gloves, topping each pie with fresh, scissor-cut basil. Of course, this infuriates the narrow-minded bureaucrats at the Department of Health, who periodically shut him down because they're just doing their jobs and they can't think out of the box. I am sure, however, that they get a slice or two before telling him to quit for the day.

The pies now cost $25, which is incredibly expensive for a pizza. It's also $5 for a slice. And is it worth it? Well, let me just say that the only reason we stopped eating was that our belts ran out of holes. Fantastic. Absolutely fantastic. The crust was thin and crispy, the mozzarella a thin covering of cheese that lay over lovely crushed tomatoes, a perfect delivery vehicle for the enticingly sweet wild onion topping. It's what you always want pizza to be but it almost never is.

Do not go if you want pineapple or something frou-frou on your pizza. I am not sure what would happen, but I won't guarantee your safety if you do so. Also, be sure to let your inner New Yorker blossom and push your way to the front. You can say "excuse me" while shoving, even if you don't really mean it. Once you get your order, take any space available on the four rickety tables in the back, even if they're already occupied. Open your box, and let the aromas of hot pizza envelop your senses. Then attack it, and keep your elbows sharp as your neighbors will be trying to get that extra inch of table space.

Yes, I know, DiFara's has been written about ad-nauseum, but perhaps there is a reason for this. And it has nothing to do with ad budgets or marketing campaigns. Perhaps it's something else, something from a simpler time, when word of mouth was all that was needed to sell things because quality still counted. Now, thanks to the Internet, there is word of pixel, and places like DiFara's can continue excelling at what they do without resorting to gimmicks.

DiFara's
1424 Avenue J
Brooklyn, NY, 11230
(718) 258-1367
Wed - Sun:
12:30 pm - 4:30 pm
6:30 pm - 9:00 pm
Cheers!

Mexican... wine?

2010-03-15T18:13:00.003-04:00

I just returned from a long-overdue vacation (first one in five years!) in Mexico, where I sampled much of the local cuisine and beers. And while I swore off wine for the week, I ended up caving in to temptation (most folks know I can resist everything but temptation) and I suppose morbid curiosity by ordering a bottle of Mexican wine. Mexican wine, you ask?

Yes, it's true. They really are making wine all over the world nowadays (look to China soon). And so they make wine in Mexico. And I tasted it while there last week. Happily, curiosity did not kill this cat.

It was the 2007 Monte Xanic Chenin Colombard, a white blend from the Valle de Guadalupe (60 miles south of the border on the Pacific Coast). It's 95% Chenin, 5% Colombard if you're keeping score. How was it? Well, surprisingly, pretty good. Not great, mind you. But while I expected cloying tropical and heavy, almost syrupy and sweet notes due to the region's heat, I was pleasantly surprised. The wine is rather light-bodied, with citrusy and slightly tropical fruits (pears and pineapple came to mind), with a very light mouthfeel and nice acidity, even if the finish ended rather abruptly.

I have no idea what this retails for in the US, but if it's under $15 I'd say try it just for the novelty. It would make a fun aperitif wine or even go with some lighter first courses (fish and shellfish mainly). That said, I won't be tossing my French whites anytime soon. I think I am genetically programmed to prefer those, but still, I have an open palate, and it was a fun wine to try.

OK, back to work. Sigh...
Cheers!

What the Hell is that smell?!

2010-03-04T14:43:00.006-05:00

Whoa, it's been a while since I've posted anything, but I've been swamped with work and travelling a ton. Seven trade shows in 10 days in France, then the Big One, ViniSud, for 4 days, in Montpellier. To say I'm exhausted is putting it mildly.

The trips were fantastic, I mean, who can complain about being in the South of France in the middle of February? It was 65F and sunny while snow and cold were pounding New York and the East Coast. Oh, yeah, I can't complain about that.

However, one thing that really annoyed me (and still does), is the sheer amount of perfume worn by some folks at trade tastings. To say it's shameful is the understatement of the year. If you're in the business, you should be as odor-free (either BO or perfume) as possible. I mean, one of the singular pleasures of wine is smelling it slowly, watching it evolve as it sits in your glass. Yet when the person near me is seriously reeking, it can be somewhat distracting.

I dislike this when I'm at a social gathering, but it's excusable, not everyone's as intent on smelling their wines as I am. I get that. But at trade tastings, I mean, come on. Some of the culprits are the winemakers themselves, which always astonishes me. I was pouring at a tasting in NYC last month, and the winemaker standing next to me was reeking of perfume. I actually edged as far as possible as I could from him so that the trade buyers would be able to smell my wines and not his aromas. Shame on him!

A huge chunk of how we taste things, and wine in particular, is through the nose. Whether it's directly through the nostrils or through the back of the mouth and into the nasal cavity, your nose is doing most of the tasting. Yeah, the tongue's useful, but it's really your shnoz that's doing all the work. Why do you think you can't taste things when you've got a cold?

Next time you're drinking wine, try smelling it next to someone who's drenched in pungent perfume or who hasn't taken a shower in a few days. See how much you like the wine. Then go outside to get some air, or shove the offender out the nearest door, and get back to enjoying your glass.
Cheers!

A New Discovery: Domaine Ruet Beaujolais

2010-02-08T16:34:00.008-05:00

Jean-Paul Ruet shows off some of the blue granite underlying his vineyards
I love good Beaujolais. For too long, the region's been associated with cheap, mass-produced plonk, especially that Nouveau crap. Let's face it, that's not real wine. It's not even edible and, frankly, should be banned by the FDA. But, what do I know? I just want some real, authentic wine, not some factory-made product that tastes the same year in year out, without any soul.

Yes, the camera's straight, it's the hill that's steep
You want soul? Come to the real Beaujolais, where the hills are steep, the vineyards gnarly, and the wines swoon-worthy. As I wrote in my Battle of Bojos post, real Beaujolais, from real farmers, is something to get excited about. Names like Foillard, Lapierre, Descombes, Brun and Metras are well-known and highly sought after by winelovers like me.

Looking up the slope at 65-70 year old vines
Well, while looking for Beaujolais producers, a friend mentioned I should seek out the wines of Domaine Ruet. Luckily for me, they were at the last trade show I attended in Paris in November, and lo and behold, he was right. The wines are very, very good. Full of fresh Gamay fruit with earthy backbones, they are beautiful renditions of their terroirs and of Jean-Paul Ruet's gentle guidance.

Gravity-fed tanks through the wooden doors on the right
When I was offered the chance to visit the winery in the Beaujolais on this past trip, and despite having hit 7 trade shows/tastings in 10 days, I jumped at it. If you've never been to the area, I seriously recommend it. Just south of the Macon and north of Lyon, the region is full of very steep hills covered in Gamay vines that jut from the earth like crooked fingers. The food is hearty and warm, and the people generous and soft-spoken. There's a warmth of character that is both welcoming and reassuring.

Stainless steel fermentation tanks
I was met by Jean-Paul Ruet, whose family has been making wines in the Beaujolais region since 1926, when his grandfather started farming. Located in the small town of Voujon à Cercié, they own 16 hectares (39.55 acres) of south-facing, steep, old-vine vineyards on granite-rich soils that are filled with pebbles and stones, scattered between the communes of Brouilly, Morgon and Régnié (see pic below).

A panoramic view of their holdings
Jean-Paul Ruet subscribes to a philosophy of sustainable agriculture in the vineyard and strict quality controls in the winery (gravity feeds, semi-carbonic maceration, very little added sulfur), trying to respect his various terroirs and get the purest expression of his lands. Everything is manually harvested (granted, that is the law in the region), and selection starts in the vineyard and continues into the winery. In some years, he does whole-cluster fermentation (leaving the grapes on the stem), but that depends on the grapes' phenolic maturity.

To show his wines' ageability, he opened this, and all I can say is wow
And the wines? Well, they're fantastic. Full of fresh red fruits with earthy minerality and crisp, almost tart accents backed by bright acidity, they are what all Beaujolais should be but sadly isn't. Tasting through his line-up was a pleasure, and I say that as someone who has sat through some tastings where all I wanted to do was rip out my tongue so I didn't have to endure the pain anymore.

Look for this label, kids, it stands for quality!
I will begin showing the wines to distributors in the coming weeks, and hopefully someone will grab them. I think they offer great quality to price ratios, but what do I know? I just represent what I can drink, and I could chug these wines. Seriously.

Cheers!
PS: If you like these pictures, follow the big fat FaceBook Fan Page button on the right and check out the picture album, and while you're at it, become a fan.

It's Showtime!

2010-02-05T05:50:00.009-05:00

OK, nothing to do with wine, but how could I not use this pic? I mean, come on!
It's that time of the year again, when most of the major wine shows in France take place. Happily, many of them are in the South of France. As you can imagine, being in the warm south of France in the months of January and February, when the air in NYC is bitingly cold and the wind cuts through layers of clothes to whip your bones, does not suck. In fact, I can't emphasize how little it sucks.

But, it is still work. As I mentioned in my report from ViniSud two years ago, it's hectic hectic hectic and by the end of the day you'd kill for a gin and tonic. Or a nap.

So I found myself in Montpellier for a week, attending the Millesime Bio 2010 show, which focuses on Biodynamic wines. What does that mean, you ask? Well, take the theory of organic/natural wines and take it a few steps further. You end up with wines that are made without any man-made chemicals (though this is similar to "sustainable agriculture" and organic/natural), with very little added sulfur to ensure the stability of the wine, and, here's where it gets a bit odd, with a lot of attention paid to the days of the year and the lunar cycle. In fact, there's even a Biodynamic calendar that lists what days are Root Days, Fruit Days and Leaf Days.

The Biodynamic Calendar
In any case, many of the wines are fantastic (look for producers like Puzelat, Foillard, Jean-Marc Senat to get an idea of the quality out there), though far, far too many of them are either bleh or downright awful/flawed. And, let's not forget expensive. THAT was probably the most frustrating part of the trip. Despite a world-wide recession, a still-strong Euro, and massive competition from everywhere folks can plant a vine, these wines were sometimes just stupidly priced. I mean, I know you've got expenses and need to cover them and make a living, but who's going to buy a $30 white from the Savoie? You're lucky if anyone even knows where the Savoie is!

So I ran around from table to table, catching up with folks I knew in the business, and best of all catching up with the winemakers. The Spanish Basque winery I represent, Bodegas Aroa, was showing their wines, and the winemaker, Txus Macias, was beaming like a proud schoolboy as he'd won two, count 'em, TWO, gold medals for his wines.

Txus poses with his award-winning wine
I also met up with my two favorite women winemakers, Claude Jourdan from Felines Jourdan, and Christine Deleuze, from Clos Bagatelle.

Claude and Christine open samples for me
But my work wasn't done yet, oh no, so I headed up to Angers, in the Loire Valley, for the Salon des Vins de Loire (Loire Valley Wine Show). Which, by the way, means going to Paris, changing train stations, then heading down to Angers, even though it would have been faster if there were direct trains there. But, all roads lead to Rome, or, in this case, Paris, so there you go.

The first event I attended, a small-producer Biodynamic wine tasting, was in an old, gorgeous monastery with amazing woodwork in the ceiling. Yet again, while many of the wines were delicious, too many had flaws, the biggest of which was the price. But I won't belabor the issue, I promise. Angers, by the way, is gorgeous, and a city I will have to explore some day.

Busy busy busy
Next I hit the main show, meeting up with my Muscadet producer, Jean-Pascal Aubron. His 2009s, even though they're not finished, show real potential. I know you were wondering.

I hit many, many stands, saw some new and old faces, tasted LOTS of bad wine, but may, just may, have found 1-2 well-priced, interesting and well-made things. We'll see, there's much more work to be done.

Oh, and I will have an announcement in the next few days. Stay tuned... I know you're just dying of anticipation...
Cheers!

Are These Wines Rated?

2010-01-21T12:39:00.004-05:00

That must be the single most reviled question I have ever heard at a tasting. Granted, it's only happened twice, but WOW does it piss me off. Really? You need to rely on some shmuck to tell you what you like? Do you really doubt yourself that much? Frankly, I think you also like giving me all your money without asking questions.

Actually, now that I'm breathing again, I should acknowledge that wine is an intimdidating subject when you first start. I'll admit to perusing the Wine Spectator and Robert Parker for clues as to what to drink when I first got into wine. But, and this is VERY important, I quickly learned what I liked and did NOT like in relation to those critics. I knew enough about myself to quickly realize that for some wines my palate lined up and for others it completely disagreed (pretty much most things when it came to Parker, truth be told). And yes, I know, we all need to start somewhere.

But, and this is a VERY big BUT, do NOT come to my tasting and ask me "are these wines rated?" while holding a ream of printed out reviews. I have never asked my distributors to send samples to any of the critics (even though I will admit I do love reading Josh Reynolds and Steve Tanzer), so unless they buy them on their own they're not tasting anything I represent. And, frankly, I don't care if they do. I know these wines are good and well-made. If you taste them, you are free to agree or disagree. The most important thing is to TRUST YOUR PALATE.

Here, let me repeat that: TRUST YOUR PALATE.

Seriously, these critics do have a place in the wine business, for they can guide and shepherd you along the winding vinous road of discovery. They can show you new regions and new wines you'd never find without them. At the end of the day, however, YOU are the one drinking the bottle, YOU are the one judging it on that day and in that place, YOU are the one deciding whether it's good or not.

So don't go to tastings and ask the wine rep there if they're rated. Taste the wine, close your eyes, let it sit on your tongue while you breathe over it, let all the long-chain molecules waft through your sinus passages and over your palate, and either swallow or spit, your choice. But make your own decision.

Now excuse me while I go punch a wall.
Cheers!

Tastings!

2010-01-11T16:55:00.005-05:00

The year has gotten off to a crazy start: tons of work, lots of work-withs and, of course, tastings, where I'll be pouring my wines in the New York City area. That's the fun part, where I get to meet fellow wine-lovers or even plain civilians who are curious, but afraid of wine. I really love these events, there's something about interacting with the general public that's always so much fun. There's nothing I like more than that look of "Oh, wow, that's yummy, and it's how much?" Happily, this is a pretty regular occurence at the price point of the wines I represent.

So here's the upcoming tasting schedule:

-Thursday January 14th, 5-8pm at Drink, at 69th and 2nd Avenue. I'll be pouring the delightful Jean-Pascal Aubron Muscadet and the fantastic Clos Bagatelle St Chinian Tradition.

-Saturday January 16th, 12-4pm at The Wine Library, in Springfield, NJ. There I'll be showing four, you read that right, FOUR of my wines: Catherine et Didier Tripoz' Macon les Charnay Clos des Tournons (from old-vine Chardonnay planted on a steep and enclosed vineyard), the aforementioned Clos Bagatelle St Chinian, Chateau Gigognan's Cotes du Rhone Village Bois des Moines and the Chateau La Bouscade Minervois les Septs Vents. If last time was any indicator, this should be more like a party than a tasting.

So I hope you stop by and say hello, or at the very least try some small-production, authentic wines that taste more expensive than they actually are.
Cheers!

Akemashite Omedeto

2010-01-02T09:14:00.003-05:00

Me on New Year's Day
That's Happy New Year in Japanese, in case you were wondering. This past decade has been, how should I put it...? The word turbulent comes to mind, both personally and professionally. Let's just say I am happy to put 2009 and the Naughty Aughties behind me. So it was in this spirit of cleansing and renewing that I accepted an invitation to a Japanese New Year's Day dinner.

In contrast to most formal Japanese dinners, this was more free-flowing and relaxed, with far fewer rituals than usual. In fact, aside from when to put the noodles into the broth, there were almost no rules. And on a cold, snowy New Year's Day 2010, this was just what the doctor ordered.

The fresh ingredients, resonating of the season, were laid out in a colorful display that lit up the room with the light of a new year. Various mushrooms, chrysanthemum leaves, lotus root, lettuce and carrots were both earthy and vivid, both to see and to taste.

Japanese onions and fresh tofu were pleasant counterpoints to each other, each maintaining its own identity yet adding a little bit of themselves to the broth.

The richest part of the meal was some paper-thin slices of well-marbled beef, which cooked through almost instantly once placed in the wok. These remained true to themselves, yet like the vegetables, added a little to the cooking liquid to make a whole that was greater than its parts.

The main part of this meal was the broth itself, which slowly absorbed the flavors of the various ingredients.

Once we were finished with the veggies and meat, the fresh udon noodles were placed in the boiling, flavor-infused broth.

Small bowls with sauce and scallions would greet the noodles once done.

With pure generosity, the richness of the liquid was transferred to the noodles, even as more ingredients were added. In typical Japanese fashion, a single star-shaped carrot was placed in the center while it cooked to offer a bright counterpoint to the earthy colors.

Finally, this long, cleansing meal ended with a single, perfect Japanese orange.

In a bow to the Western sensibilities (and sweet teeth - not mine, I swear I didn't steal the missing one) in the room, French macarons were offered as an addendum to the fruit.

What a way to greet the new year! Instead of the usual NYC brunch that was heavy and leaden, this was a light, cleansing meal. It was a wonderful metaphor for starting anew and with a clean slate, open to all the possibilities the new year could offer.

Thank you for letting me ramble on these past few years, watching as I follow my passion and plunge headfirst into the wine business. Without your support I would never have been able to do this. So it is with utter sincerity that I say:
Akemashite Omedeto! Happy New Year! Bonne Année! Felíz año nuevo!
Cheers!

Happy Holidays!

2009-12-24T14:49:00.003-05:00

Yes, it's a Charlie Brown tree
Between work and some personal issues, I've been slightly out of commission, but I wanted to take a moment to wish everyone a wonderful holiday season and a fantastic New Year. I'll be taking a break until after then, so enjoy your family and friends and appreciate what you have.

And if you enjoy some Vinotas Selections wines, let me know!
Cheers!

Where Winos Dine

2009-12-09T18:32:00.006-05:00

Well, we can't just drink, can we? I mean, wine is meant to be enjoyed with food and friends and family, not all alone. If you start doing that, you might need some assistance...

No, good wine is designed to go with good food, both adding their virtues to the experience of life. When the pairings work, they add up to more than their individual parts and become something else, something transcending.

Of course, not all food and wine pairings get so existential, but many are thoroughly enjoyable. But where to go and enjoy your precious bottle of wine and get a great meal without breaking the bank? Sure, there are many spots in New York City that offer BYO, but either these will induce nosebleed with stratospherically high pricing, or the quality of the dishes will not be up to the quality of the bottle you bring.

So where do winos go to dine when they want to drink and eat well?

One name comes to mind, and most NYC winelovers already know what I'm about to say: Apiary. This East Village restaurant has been around over a year and it's no secret, but if you have a nice bottle you want to open with someone and get a great meal, this is the place most of us visit. The pricing is very friendly, service is good, and best of all the food is delicious. Well-executed and thought out by Scott Bryan, formerly of Veritas, the dishes are very wine-friendly as well, as one would expect. And, of course, though they're BYO-friendly, their wine list is also pretty-well put together, pleasing to both the winegeeks as well as to the casual drinker.

Oh, and no I am not paid or rewarded for this, I just thought I'd offer a Public Service Announcement. In fact, I wouldn't mention my name if I were you...
Cheers!

Giddy Wines

2009-12-04T09:09:00.004-05:00

Giddy wines? What are giddy wines? They are wines that make you sit up and smile, wines that are so lovely and well-made that they remind you why you like wines, and perhaps these particular wines, in the first place. If all wines did that the novelty of finding such a thing would wear off and instead we'd be living in a world where "everyone is special so no one is special." And that would be no fun.

Instead, wines, like life, have their highs and their lows. Luckily, I didn't just find one vinous high point last night (I did give a hint, "wines" in the title is plural), I didn't just find two, I found a whopping three, count 'em, three giddy wines. As you can imagine, I hit the pillow with a grin you could see from space.

I was celebrating a late Thanksgiving with Mom and a friend, and since I detest turkey (I've said it previously and it still holds true), I decided to roast a whole duck. I did this last Thanksgiving and it was a smashing success. Last night was no different, I am happy to report.

We began the night with a bottle of NV Veuve Fourny Brut Premier Cru. If you're looking for fruity, sweet bubbly, this ain't it. It's like drinking liquid steel in a mesh of fine bubbles. It makes your mouth pucker. This is masochistic Champage. I love it.

Next, as we sat down to dinner, I poured a bottle of 1998 Domaine Dujac Clos St Denis. One whiff of this and I almost burst into tears. This is the smell that proves the existence of God. Beautiful, muddy cherries wrapped in that underbrush smell (sous-bois in French), a real musk that envelops the senses and refuses to disappear. The wine in the mouth is the same, flowing over the palate and gripping you, refusing to let go, not wanting to be forgotten, a presence, a weightless weight that just seems to dance effortlessly on the tongue. Wow. I think I just fell in love with Burgundy again.

To say it went well with the roasted duck, sauteed wild mushrooms and roasted herb and garlic potatoes would be the understatement of the year.

Finally, a bottle open the previous night with some seafood pasta, a 2004 William Fevre Chablis 1er Cru Fourchaume. That night it was a slightly honeyed, lemony and minerally wine that was quite delicious but nothing special. What a difference 24 hours in the fridge made... The moment I opened this, I was almost bowled over by the thickness of the aroma. It was like a velvet glove to the nose, full of cheesy scallops and almonds and citrus notes. Wow. At this point, I may have had actual tears streaming down my face.

Yeah, these are the moments we live for. These are wines that make me giddy. Giddy wines.
Cheers!

Simple Things

2009-11-25T03:29:00.002-05:00

It's funny, despite my love of the simpler things in life, it's easy to lose one's way and forget this most basic principle. Every day we're assaulted by a barrage of desires, enticing us to do/eat/drink more. Yet when one takes a deep breath and a step back, we (re)discover how nice it is to take some time and enjoy the simpler things in life. Especially living in NYC with its hectic energy, we sometimes tend to forget to take that step back. Yesterday, I landed in Paris, and wandering the streets and shopping for dinner, I realized what I'd lost lately.

A simple croissant (delicious, BTW), eaten on the street (very declasse, truthfully), was the epitome of that go-go-go attitude we have in NYC. And while that's great for a quick breakfast, I was in no rush, so why'd I do that? My first meetings/tastings weren't until the day after I landed, so I was in no hurry. Shame on me!

So my first dinner in Paris wasn't at a Michelin-starred restaurant (I prefer smaller, simpler bistrots, frankly), or even an intricate meal prepared at home, even though I'd bought some lovely baby chanterelles and other ingredients. No, dinner my first night back in Paris was a half-bottle of a biodynamic red from the Languedoc (nice and unassuming), some stinky cheeses, a saucisson sec (how is this not imported in the US????), and a very nice baguette. And it was the perfect meal. Me happy.

It doesn't get much simpler than that.
Cheers!

Free Booze!

2009-11-18T00:16:00.002-05:00

Yes, it's that time of year again, when my wholesalers plop me down in front of a table and make me stand there like a human spigot. Granted, this is the part of the job I really love, where I get to interact with the vast, unwashed masses of humanity. Most of the time, it's pretty cool. But every once in a while, you get the bozos just there to get drunk. Don't be a bozo!

So this upcoming Saturday I'll be pouring three of my wines at Diplomat Wines, 939 2nd Avenue in East Midtown, between 49th and 50th streets. I'll be performing this song and dance from 5pm to 8pm, so if you're thirsty for some interesting, inexpensive and artisanal wines, come on down. If not, go away.

Oh, yeah, I'll be pouring Felines Jourdan's Picpoul de Pinet, Clos Bagatelle's St Chinian and Chateau La Bouscade's Les Septs Vents Minervois. All are yummy and inexpensive and you should stop in and buy case-loads. Seriously.
Cheers!

Shameless Plug: Turkey Day Wines

2009-11-12T09:38:00.014-05:00

Well, everyone else is doing it, so I suppose I should throw in a few suggestions for what to drink with the Bird, right? I mean, I do have some ideas of what I'd pair with a big old turkey and stuffing. Even if I am not a big fan of the stuff (see HERE).

Leaving aside my personal preferences about turkey and the sides, I figured I'd do some shameless shilling as well. I know you're supposed to serve American wines on this holiday, but I do have some wines in the US, might as well see if I can sell them, right? Best of all they all retail for under $16, so here we go...

SHAMELESS SHILLING WARNING!!!!

Now, if I were to serve my wines on Thanksgiving, what would I pour, you ask? How kind of you to inquire, let me see...

While everyone gathers and the appetizers are served, I'd pour the 2007 Jean-Pascal Aubron Grand Fief de l'Audigere Muscadet de Maine et Sevre sur Lie, with beautiful aromatics, good fruit and crisp acidity. It's light enough to whet your appetite without filling you up.

Next, as the first courses appear, if you're in the mood for white, I'd pour the 2007 Felines Jourdan Picpoul de Pinet. It's also very aromatic, but heavier-bodied, and should hold up to the first dishes pretty well. Its acidity also lets it handle a ton of different flavors. I might even serve it with the turkey if you have a simple roast turkey.

If you want a red, I'd go for a light yet earthy red like the 2007 Chateau de Gaudou 1733, 100% Malbec. 2008 ain't bad either, BTW. This isn't your Argentinian Malbec, full of huge fruit and oak, this is light, earthy, and completely oak-free. It's got a darker fruit profile on a light frame, meaning it won't overwhelm lighter dishes.

Now the turkey arrives, and everyone's oohing and aaahing. If you're looking for an Old World-style red, you can reach for the 2007 Jardin de Bagatelle St. Chinian. Hitting the stores in NYC as I write, this wine offers deep, dark, earthy, funky red and black fruit with good heft and nice acidity. Assuming you don't have too many sweet sides, this should go nicely with the Big Bird.

But, you say, Thanksgiving is an American holiday, you want an American, or at least a more New World wine, to go with the Bird. OK, then try the 2006 Chateau La Bouscade's Septs Vents, a 100% Syrah from the Minervois. Big, bold, very fruity, with some hint of sweetness from the ripe fruit and slight oak, this wine should answer your request. Yet it also maintains the freshness that European wines can have from their higher perceived acidity than their American counterparts. And frankly, this well-balanced wine goes better with the foods on the table at Thanksgiving than most of its New World siblings.

So there you have it, a smattering of Vinotas Selection wines that should handle the vast flavor differences at the Thanksgiving table. But, honestly, whatever you choose to serve, have a wonderful holiday, enjoy your time with family and friends, and be thankful for what you have.
Cheers!

Wine Online

2009-11-02T21:01:00.004-05:00

You're interested in wine, but you're not sure where to start. You ask a friend who is "into wine", you ask your neighbors, you ask a local wine store. If it's a good store, you'll find a salesperson who knows what he's talking about, but let's face it, unless you have their mobile number, you can't get answers at all times of the day or night. And frankly most store employees are not that educated about interesting wines. Most of them are there to move product, and that's about it.

So what to do?

Thanks to Al Gore (kidding), we have that lovely series of interconnected tubes, also known as the Interwebs. Better known for its massive quantities of porn, or so I'm told, the Internet is also the best place to learn about wine without opening a bottle. Of course, it's not as much fun, but pouring yourself a glass at 9am is usually a sign of a serious, more urgent issue.

Luckily, there are hundreds of websites that can help you learn about wine. The best ones allow you to interact with other winelovers, asking questions and getting answers at your convenience. You can start at the Wine Spectator's website, where you can take quizzes, read about news, and sign up for online classes. This is a very good starting source for people intimidated by wine and the mystique that surrounds it.

Snooth is a growing community of wine-lovers that is great for beginners as well. The interface is a little confusing, but sticking with it will offer you a world of learning opportunities. If you've started a small collection of 6 bottles or even have a huge, thousand bottle cellar, visit CellarTracker, where you can keep track of your inventory and write tasting notes, sharing them with other like-minded and like-palated people.

The wine critic Robert Parker's website is a good next stop, though it should be noted that this is a bit more technical. The Bulletin Board attached to the site is an excellent source of information, with thousands of winelovers interacting on a daily basis. It should be noted that the board is pretty loyal and defensive of Parker, so if you find your tastes differing from his be wary. That said, it's a great place to learn even more about wine.

Another good place to talk about wine is Wine Disorder. This bulletin board is fiercely loyal to the wines imported by Louis Dressner. If you like your bottles with tons of oak and fruit, this is not the place for you. If you love high-acid, esoteric, unique wines, this could be of interest to you.

Lastly, one of the best, most rough-and-tumble yet welcoming places to chat about wine would be the Wine Berserkers Bulletin Board. While it's not the most sophisticated, it is the most down-to-earth and warm site for both newcomers and experts, and boasts fora for winemakers and wine peddlers. This gives you a view of what happens "behind the scenes", and is a very good place to learn about all aspects of wine.

You can meet fellow winelovers in all these places, from newbies to winemakers, and can learn vast amounts about this beautiful thing we call wine. So visit a few of these sites and see which ones you like while enjoying a glass of your favorite bottle.
Cheers!

Local Food, Imported Wines

2009-10-21T17:42:00.004-04:00

Eric Azimov has an interesting article in today's NY Times about locavore restaurants in California which also serve European wines. It would seem to be hypocritical, but in many ways I can understand why they do this. Truth be told, most, not all, CA wines don't go with food. But before you get your panties in a bunch, please reread what I just wrote: I didn't say ALL CA wines don't go with food, I just said most.

In general, and again, this is a GENERALITY, many CA wines are not food-friendly, especially if the food is more on the delicate side (obviously, a hunk of BBQ'd beef is another matter). Ripe, sweet fruit, low acid, high alcohol do not translate to things one wants to drink with a meal. They tend to overpower most dishes. And don't get me started on the liberal use, or rather abuse, of oak.

Most (again, not all) European wines are not as big and brutish and their acidity lends itself to food much more easily than CA wines. So I can understand why many CA restaurant lists have these wines. It would be nice if more CA wineries tried to make more food-friendly wines, but these don't get the points and attention that big, oaky, sweet fruity alcohol bombs do. And don't get me started on points...

Luckily, here on the East Coast, we have a plethora of choices, both from the Old World and from the New World. We are truly blessed for living between the two and having access to them. Of course, this negates any attempts whatsoever at being a locavore unless you try to get Long Island wines (which are more European in style than their CA counterparts).

Frankly, I am not saying CA wines are bad, just that they don't match with food as readily as European wines do. Someone once told me, CA wines are for cocktails, European wines for dinner. And I can understand why he said that.
Cheers!

Harvest in Spain

2009-10-19T17:37:00.008-04:00

Sunrise in Navarra
Harvest is that magical time when the grapes are plump and ready to be taken off the vine, a wonderful period of the year when the air is humming with possibilities. Right? It's also a mad dash that goes on almost all day and night, when a year's preparations are focused into a 2-4 week period.

Vineyards awaiting the pickers
As in most parts of France, Spain had a fantastic year. 2009 is shaping up to be a very good year in many places, but we won't know for a while. In the meantime, the grapes came in clean and plump, as these pics show.

Back to work!
To give you an idea of what it looks like, here are a series of pictures from my winemaker Txus Macias in Navarra. Harvest here is a family and friends affair, with everyone pitching in.

Of course, at the end of the day, it's time to break bread and pop corks and enjoy the fruit of your labor, basking in the glow of a day's work and the warmth of your friends. But isn't that wine is all about? It's not about points, or what's supposed to be the "right wine", but about sharing good times with good friends and family, and realizing that these are the most important, and sometimes ephemeral, things in life.
Cheers!

The Battle of the Bojos

2009-10-13T22:38:00.003-04:00

No, not the bozos. "Bojo" is short for Beaujolais, and I am sure as Hell not talking about that plonk that arrives in November labelled "Nouveau". Frankly, if you're into that, then there's nothing of interest to see here, please move along to the next blog. Seriously. Go away.

I am talking about real Beaujolais, which is real wine. Delicious wine. Long-lasting, intensely satisfying wine. Stuff that makes you wonder how Nouveau can even exist at all. Made by small farmers with a real love of the land, it speaks of its terroir as well as its northern cousin, Burgundy. It's also something I really like and appreciate, even if I haven't really written that much about it. I suppose I was too busy drinking it to really stop and write about it.

And in case you were wondering, it's made from the Gamay grape, once called "a treacherous grape", as it is quite vigorous and can make tons of crappy wine if not cultivated carefully. It was banned from Burgundy in the 14th century, and found a new home south of that region, in the Beaujolais. And here it's made some fantastic wines that are really not appreciated by either the serious drinker or the wayward wino.

Well, recently, I had the chance to open two Bojos side by side to see how they were doing. Admittedly, it wasn't completely fair, one was 2007 and the other 2008. That extra year was really important, as I've had the 2007 and it was completely different from the 2008.

The 2008 Jean-Paul Brun Terres Dorees Vieilles Vignes L'Ancien Beaujolais was the first victim. Right from the start, this smelled gorgeous of light cherries and earth, yet was completely tight and unforgiving. Things in the mouth had yet to come together. This was like looking at the sketch of a beautiful suit, handling and choosing the fabric, but not finishing the stitching job. We decanted this for several hours, and it still refused to come to the party. Smell was great, taste was just not there. The 2007 of this is absolutely fantastic, BTW.

Compared to that, the 2007 Pierre-Marie Chermette Domaine du Vissoux Cuvee Traditionelle Beaujolais Vieilles Vignes was a sex bomb on the nose and in the mouth. With a sappy, ripe smell of cherries and light fruit and plums wrapping a core of earth and smoke, you just wanted to sit there smelling it. The palate was similar with a gorgeous mouthfeel that was almost velvety and ended with some crisp minerality with a long finish. Beautiful.

OK, so it wasn't a real battle, more of a skirmish. But I really encourage folks to drop their Nouveau and try one of these. It'll change the way you think of Beaujolais. And best of all, these wines cost less than $20 each.
Cheers!

The Season of Tastings

2009-10-10T11:12:00.005-04:00

The Orsay room is set up
'Tis the season for tastings, and so these past few weeks I've been busy standing behind tables pouring my wines that are distributed in NYC. At T Edward's tasting Jean-Pascal Aubron's Muscadet got very good reactions, a testament to his wine-making skills. But the biggest taste test was at Orsay, where Gabriella Wines held their Fall Portfolio Tasting. I poured four wines (Chateau La Bouscade, Clos Bagatelle, Felines Jourdan and Chateau Haut-Musiel) for eight hours, standing in a low-ceilinged room while hundreds of store and restaurant wine buyers filed past, sniffing, swirling, tasting and spitting (for the most part). To say I am exhausted is putting it mildly.

The room fills up
But I did find some things very interesting. For one thing, many folks are upbeat about the economy, which is a plus for everyone. Rising tides and all that. For another, it was really fascinating to see how the people who choose the wines the end consumer finds on lists or shelves make their decisions.

K&D Wines' Buyer
Most stopped and listened, either out of politeness or interest or both, as I rattled off the information about my wines. Many seemed to enjoy learning about what they were tasting, and took the time to ask questions and probe deeper. Others shot past, gulping the wines quickly and nodding a quick thanks.

One of Premier Cru's wine buyers
But I found it fascinating to think that all these people would be making business decisions that would affect what ends up in the glasses of the end consumer. Just like I'd gone through thousands of wines before choosing the ones I represent, they had to taste through hundreds of bottles lined up on tables like soldiers on the march. Like me, they seek the wines that are both well-made and sellable (the two are sometimes mutually exclusive, sadly).

With so much to taste, it is easy to become overwhelmed and fall back on the standard labels. So it was nice to see how dedicated these buyers were to finding interesting wines (sometimes mine! yay!). For me, it was physically and mentally exhausting (you'd be amazed at how tiring it can get, standing and talking ad nauseum about my wines for hours on end, and I love my wineries. But it's a part of the job I love precisely because I get to talk so much about my portfolio. And folks seemed to appreciate the effort, I am happy to say.
Cheers!

A Deliciously Affordable Bubbly

2009-09-30T22:06:00.005-04:00

Well, affordable bubbly is something I am always on the lookout for. However, inexpensive Champagne is difficult to find, though it is possible. But, what about Cremants or other sparkling wines? Is it possible to find one? Well, as it turns out, yes.

-NV Jean-Francois Ganevat "La Combe" Rotalier Oh! Cremant du Jura
Well, that's a mouthful of a name, no? I have to say, however, this is quite a lovely mouthful of a wine as well. I wasn't expecting much, as I've had some pretty lousy Cremants from all over France, and I've never been a huge Cava fan, though I do like some Prosecco. Usually, I find many Cremants too sweet or rough for my taste, but this one is quite different.

First off, the nose is very floral, with lemon, green apples, and quartz/mineral accents, and it doesn't smell sweet or overworked like other Cremants. The bubbles are quite small and piquant, tickling the palate and not rough around the edges. Think Badoit mineral water as opposed to Perrier. On the palate, this wine offers similar notes, with some nutty aspects that are backed up by a very tart finish that goes on a relatively long time. I daresay if this were poured blind among some BdB Champagnes (this is 100% Chardonnay), it might hold its own or at the very least put in a good showing. Heck, at Day Two, it was still going, though the bubbles had faded but were perceptable on the tongue, and it became much more floral. Delicious with the sushi I ordered.

In other words, I really enjoyed this. It is made like traditional Champagne, by an organic winemaker named Jean-Francois Ganevat who also has very old vines on his property in the Jura. And of course, it's always a pleasure to find something this enjoyable. When you get that "A-ha" moment, there's the small thrill of victory against the seas of swill that are sold.

At a whopping $18/bottle by the case, this is quite the value.
Cheers!

Video of 2009 Harvest in Cahors

2009-09-25T10:04:00.002-04:00

Vintage 2009 at Chateau de Gaudou

I am travelling on business in the great state of Texas where some of the wines I represent will be appearing soon. In fact, you will also find them throughout Mexico as well since this distributor sells into both countries (now that's pretty cool!). So I leave you with a short video offered by Chateau de Gaudou in the Cahors of their 2009 harvest (another region where the year is looking wonderful).

You will notice that they mechanically harvest their lowland vineyards, but all the hillside vines are tended to by hand. This is where the grapes for the 1733 and the Tradition come from. The flatland stuff is sold off in bulk, so don't worry, they're being careful with your babies!
Cheers!

And Away We Go: Harvest 2009

2009-09-17T10:28:00.002-04:00

Ripe, plump Chardonnay grapes in the Macon
I love Burgundy, as anyone who's ever even glanced at this blog could tell you. But, and this is a big BUT, it's too damned expensive. I wish I could represent some great, unheard-of winemaker who's toiling away in the Côte d'Or, but doing so would probably violate Vinotas Selections' whole raison d'être, namely to find small, high-quality producers making wines that will retail for under $25.

However, I do carry one white Burgundy that I am really fond of, the Domaine Cathérine et Didier Tripoz. After spending some time with them last year walking their vineyards and seeing their dedication, I fell in love with them and their lands.

Clipping the bunches
This past week harvest 2009 started, and it's looking like a good one. In fact, the only region that seems to have had a few issues is the area east of Muscadet, which saw some hail damage. But otherwise, reports all over France are that this year will be a great one. Didier had the same thing to say about his Clos des Tournons, another shipment of which will be arriving very soon in the NYC area.

Climbing the VERY steep hillside vineyard
As I couldn't be there this year, I asked him to send me some pictures of the harvest. I adore seeing this, it really brings it all into focus: the hard, manual labor, the long hours toiling in the field, the amount of dedication necessary to source great grapes and make a lovely wine.

Emptying the bins
Sure, in many cases it would be cheaper and easier to get a mechanical picker. And some great wines are made despite having been picked by a machine. Heck, it certainly gives the winemaker more flexibility as to timing and speed. But there's something so elemental and heart-warming to harvesting by hand, knowing that someone has carefully selected these bunches before they're sent to the sorting table to be selected again. It shows dedication to the utmost levels of quality.

Off to the winery
But it isn't easy, and not for those with bad backs or sore feet. For most folks it's this mythical time in the vineyard. For those who do it, it's back-breaking, non-stop abusive work, with plenty of bruises and scrapes and cuts to show. But it's so worth it. If you've ever wondered what it's like, I invite you to read my post about harvesting the 2006 vintage in Burgundy, HERE.
Cheers!

Never Forget: September 11, 2001

2009-09-11T07:33:00.000-04:00

Sunny bubbles

2009-09-08T13:51:00.004-04:00

It's sometimes amazing how a wine can remind you of certain sights, sounds and smells. But then again, drinking wine is not just about its taste but also about the entirety of the experience, whether its hedonistic, introspective, contextual, or all three.

So over a long and lazy Labor Day weekend in La Jolla I happened upon a bottle of NV Roger Pouillon Rose. I had had a lovely bottle of a Solera-style Champagne they make in late July at the great restaurant 11 Madison Park, so I was eager to try this producer's Rose. Afterward, I also did a little research into Roger Pouillon, where he's located and how he makes his wines. I mean, I am wine geek after all, it's what I do.

So a little information: this small domaine is located in the village of Mareuil-sur-Aÿ, just north of the small city of Epernay. While they don't practice biodynamic viticulture, they do "lutte raisonnee", or sustainable agriculture, meaning they do everything they can to ensure the health of the soils and avoid nasty chemicals.

And the wine? Well, it's like a glass of sunshine-filled flowery bubbles. The fresh taste of kir, strawberries and cherries, with some creamy notes, is something that just feels and reminds one of summer. The salmon color is lovely to behold and contemplate while sitting outside with friends. Especially now that the memory of summer is fading into the cool reality of Fall.
Cheers!

Summer's Bounty Part Deux: Upstate NY

2009-08-31T17:46:00.006-04:00

New York is known for many things, most of them ironically being on the very edges of the state: New York City, Niagara Falls, Lake George. But what many people don't realize is how beautiful and lush the very heart of the land is. Filled with huge natural parks and tons of villages with small farms, this is a truly beautiful state.

Best of all, the tomatoes in some friends' garden have escaped the blight that has afflicted the crops this year. And I LOVE tomatoes. These were succulent, fresh and with that refreshing tang of good fruit.

These made amazing bruschetta and were great while sitting outside on a cool late summer's evening.

The soils are rich with the bounty of summer, such as these fresh-picked potatoes and carrots. The carrots came home to NYC with me. The potatoes didn't last long. I love potatoes too.

Local farms also offer great meats, such as these cuts that were quickly grilled over a hot flame.

Those fresh potatoes? They went into a Pommes Ana tart that was filled with earthy, buttery goodness.

Everything was fresh, like these colorful flowers picked only a few minutes before dinner.

Apples, picked that afternoon, went into a Tarte Tatin that, unsurprisingly, was full of buttery goodness too. Hmmm... see a theme here?

And with such a rustic, lovely countryside dinner? What would you drink? I grabbed a bottle of 2007 Foillard Morgon Clos de Py Beaujolais, a deliciously earthy yet fruity wine that smells of the French countryside. Even the cat liked it.

I also revisited a place that had really impressed me the first time I was in the area: Swoon Kitchenbar, in Hudson. Like my first time there, the food was amazing, the wine list imaginative and well-priced, and the welcome warm. I even got some house-made smoked bacon from Chef Jeff. For a rustic bistrot, this was pretty cool!

Sometimes, it's nice to get away for a few days.
Cheers!

Say Hola to España's Wines

2009-08-19T13:17:00.005-04:00

You didn't think all those trips to Spain this year were for vacations, now, did you? I was working, and working quite hard, thank you very little. In some ways this is a dream job, but in other ways, it's a tough job. I mean, I spent a good 4-5 weeks earlier this year, traipsing through Emporda, Pamplona and Galicia, tasting the local wines and trying to find something, anything, that would be both well-made and well-priced. Sadly, the two rarely come hand in hand.

But after much swirling, sniffing and spitting, I settled on a whopping two, count'em, two, wineries to represent.

The first is Empordàlia, from the hilly Emporda region north of Barcelona. They're a large winery, true, with a whopping 350 hectares (865 acres!) and so my first reaction was to look at their wines with a skeptical eye. But once I started tasting what they were making, I was pursuaded. Then again, they've learned a few things in the forty or so years they've been around.

The Sinols Negre is a blend of 40% Garnatxa, 40% Carinyena, and a balance of Syrah, Merlot and Ull de Llebre (a local variety). The wine is destemmed and cold macerated for 15 days, and never sees any oak. This is a stainless steel beauty, with a lovely perfume of dark flowers, blackberries and plums. The taste reflects the nose, with an elegant mouthfeel that leads to a long finish. Best of all, these wines would retail for around $12 and be delicious.

The Sinols Blanc, an assemblage of Grenache Blanc and Macabeu, is wonderfully aromatic yet carries its hefty nose on a surprisingly elegant frame with refreshing acidity. The finish will leave you aching for more. Seriously, it's delicious, especially on a hot summer's day.

My second choice was a winery called Aroa, in the hills just north of Rioja. Aroa was founded a few years ago through the partnership of two friends who were seeking to make hand-crafted, artisanal wines in the high altitude-foothills of the País de Navarra. They focus on traditional varieties like Garnatxa and Tempranillo to maintain the wines’ historical aspects and ensured the health of their vineyards through the use of organic viticultural methods.

Winemaker Txus Macias
Working with three different vineyards in the high mountains south of Pamplona, winemaker Txus Macías has crafted some lovely wines that proudly represent their terroirs. At Aroa, he uses certified Organic methods and traditional grapes varieties like Tempranillo and Garnatxa, with small amounts of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. Low yields and careful filtering mean the end products are unique and distinctive and have a nice rustic feel to them.

Alternating cover crops between rows is standard practice at Aroa
The Aroa Tempranillo Joven is a beautifully expressive and aromatic wine, with an earthy note that is the purest translation of its terroir. The mouthfeel is wonderfully, authentically rustic, with fresh acidity leading to a long, lingering finish. This wine is perfect on its own or with some Jamón Iberico. Then again, what doesn't go with Jamón Iberico?

Where and when can you get them? Soon, very soon, I promise. I am working hard on it even as I write these words. In the meantime, enjoy the pictures I've uploaded to the Vinotas Selections FaceBook Fan Page.
Cheers!

Sir Winston Churchill Comes Alive

2009-08-11T21:26:00.004-04:00

No, not that one, of course. Rather, I'm talking about a recent tasting I organized with some friends of Pol Roger's prestige cuvée, the Sir Winston Churchill Champagne. The great man was a big fan and supporter of the Pol Roger house, and of Champagne in general. In fact, he is quoted as having said of it, "In victory, deserve it; in defeat, need it." As someone who enjoys a bubbly now and then, I couldn't agree more!

The line-up awaits: 2000 Rose, 1986, 1988, 1990, 1996, 1998 Sir Winston Churchill
This cuvée was born in 1975, to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Winston Churchill's passing. The actual assemblage is a jealously guarded secret, but seeing how he preferred more robust Champagnes, it's likely this is a Pinot Noir-dominant wine.

We started with the 2000 Pol Roger Rose, which was very tight at first, but slowly uncoiled to show lovely flowery notes backed up by soft red berries, and a gorgeous mouthfeel that was both mouthfilling and elegant at the same time. I kept going back to this over the course of the evening and kept getting happier and happier with it. What a great way to start the night.

We had decided to do old to young, and so the first pour was also one of the best, the 1986 Pol Roger Sir Winston Churchill. It was poured alongside the 1988 Sir Winston Churchill in an attempt to revisit the Eighties. Almost from the start, the 1986 was showing better, with gorgeous notes of dark yeast, apple pie, caramel/toffee, cafe au lait, brioche, and hints of red berries. It also had that lovely musk that older Champagne sometimes gets, but which blows off quickly as the wine breathes. Gorgeous, and it developped nicely over the course of the evening. The 1988, on the other hand, had something weird going on. I thought it might be slightly corked, as I got whiffs of TCA every now and then, but then again I am SUPER sensitive to that (lucky me). Others disagreed about the cork but did agree that there was something off with it. Too bad, as I had been looking forward to trying it next to the 1986.

There were a few other wines too...
Next up came the Nineties, with the 1990, the 1995, the 1996 and the 1998 Sir Winston Churchill. Of the four, my favorite was the 1998 and 1995 to drink right away, the 1990 to hold and watch evolve in the glass, and the 1996 to hold for another ten years. Profile-wise, as expected, they were all relatively similar, with vintage variations coming through in terms of their openness and power. The 1990 was extremely full-bodied, as was the 1996, but the 1995 and 1998 were more (relatively) lean and easy to drink. These last two were also not as complex or promising, IMHO, as the 1990 and 1996, both of which seemed to be teasing us with greatness to come.

Overall, it was a great learning experience. The wines had many similarities as could be expected, but vintage variations really came through. As did storage, of course. But the great man was correct, Pol Roger is making some lovely wines. For a big house, this was a pretty impressive showing.

Oh, and the other wines? Well, the Burgundy was nice, but WOW was that 1937 La Tour Blanche Sauternes fantastic, with the color of Cognac. This was a wine I had to sit with for a while, if only for the history that it represented. It was gorgeous, with lovely aromas of honeyed caramel brule, figs, almonds, with whiffs of herbs, and a thick, slightly oily mouthfeel that covered the palate and then faded slowly away into the mists of time. Fantastic, and extremely generous of my friend to share.

God, I love wine.
Cheers!

Summer's Bounty

2009-08-03T23:52:00.006-04:00

Summertime means fresh fruit and vegetables, their odors filling the house with the freshness of life. Even despite a ridiculously rainy season, the farmers markets are full of vibrant colors and odors, all vying for our attention. The fantastic basil, above, has made my fridge smell so good that I want to curl up in it and spend the day there.

The corn is insanely sweet, and what better way to enjoy it than by mixing it with the basil, some lovely shallots, and fresh scallops? Sauteed quickly in a pan, they make an amazing first course.

A young, lively white Burgundy was a perfect match for this, the acidity cutting through the sweetness of the corn and scallops and cleansing the palate.

What of the other vegetables? No, I haven't forgotten them either, they get chopped up into little squares, quickly browned in some olive oil, then tossed into a big pan all together. Simmered for about an hour, they turn into a huge, multi-colored, fantastic-smelling mass of summery goodness. Based on a recipe from Southern France, this ratatouille is a pure definition of summer. As in the movie, the aromas bring back memories of youth and more care-free days.

Of course, I wasn't drinking as well when I was younger. An elegant yet meaty, bacony, olivey 1989 Gonon St Joseph "les Oliviers" was a lovely counter-point to the rustic nature of the lemon confit, olive oil and thyme-marinated rack of lamb and ratatouille. The evening was a celebration of the season and its gifts, a gentle reminder of how generous Mother Earth can be sometimes.
Cheers!

Galicia, Spain

2009-07-27T16:28:00.002-04:00

I have to travel a lot in this job, and I just returned from a recent trip to Spain's Galicia region, in the Northwest of the Iberian peninsula. One thing I love about these voyages, aside from the good food, nice wine, and passionate people, is the exposure to local culture that I receive. I love learning about that, always have, always will. And there are always surprises to be had...

So it was quite a shock to discover that this part of Spain has a strong Celtic tradition. There are dolmens, folks wear kilts sometimes, Celtic runes on the walls of pubs, heck, there are PUBS, and, more weirdly, they play bagpipes (!). It's quite something to see someone speaking fluent Spanish to you while wearing a kilt and playing a bagpipe, or to see someone with the facial features of a Dublin resident speaking Galician. A bit disconcerting but also reassuring that this world is much larger and more full of surprises than you expected.

The geography is quite intensely wild, with forest and vineyard-lined fjords called Rias carved by receding glaciers at the end of the last Ice Age all along the coast. When one thinks of Spain, one thinks dry and hot, but this was cool and wet. Quite like Ireland, actually. Or rather, the reverse, as the original settlers of Ireland were tribespeople from this land. Who knew?

Our trip took us all over this sparsely-populated land, visiting wineries who make Mencia, Godello, Treixadura and Albarino. For the most part, it's almost all white wines, except for Mencia, which tastes a lot like Cabernet Franc.

Starting in the small city of Vigo, with its industrial port overseen by an ancient fortress and small homes, we made our way inland to Leiro. The maritime influence is still evident even here, with its food and culture and weather deeply affected by the Atlantic Ocean.

Paella, Leiro-style
The Celtic background is evident here too, with monasteries looking like they'd been plopped right from England or at least the set of the movie "Monty Python and the Holy Grail".

We were also close enough to take a quick stroll across the River Mino into Portugal, though we weren't there to taste Portuguese wines so our guides quickly rushed us back across the border before we could do any harm.

Despite all these influences, there was still the over-riding aspect of Spanish culture, such as Jamon Iberico at the local Feira del Vino in O Rosal, near the border.

The shared culture of fishing and respect for the bounty of the waters was there as well, in decorations on the walls and in the way the food was presented. Everything was appreciated, nothing taken for granted.

And, amidst all this, there was the dance festival in La Guarda, literally on the border with Portugal. There, women in fancy costumes whirled to the sound of Flamenco, their castagnettes clacking away madly, making a lovely counterpoint to their movements.

God, I love travelling.
Cheers!

Back to Basics: Blind Chardonnay Tasting

2009-07-08T08:37:00.010-04:00

This blog is ostensably about wine, and my passion is wine, but let's face it, I've been a bit neglectful in talking about it lately. So let's get back to basics: a blind Chardonnay tasting.

When this was first proposed, I was excited. First, I love good Chardonnay, espcially from Burgundy (duh). Second, it's always fun, and humbling, to attend a blind tasting. All pre-suppositions about labels, place, year, quality or price go out the window. You are judging the wine based on its merits alone. Granted, the organizer must ensure that all the wines coming are equally ready to drink, or are placed in similar flights. Otherwise you might end up with some bottles that are completely closed for business while others shout out for attention, drowning out all the others. This drinking business can get complicated, no?

So a small group of winelovers descended on Apiary in the East Village, Chef Scott Bryan's new project. First, let me just say the food and service were fantastic and I heartily recommend it (no affilition, yadda yadda yadda...).

More importantly, the tasting was quite interesting and eye-opening. It would be interesting to see if we could pick out the New World from the Old World styles, something I heartily anticipated doing.

FLIGHT 1
-#1
Creamy lemon, perfumy oak on the nose, but more citrus than wood. The body is fat, with some spicy oakiness to it that's balanced and even lifted by some striking acidity. Everyone said Burgundy, I decided to be contrarian and say a 10-year old CA Chard. I was almost right! Woohoo!
1997 Calera Mt Harlan Chardonnay

-#2
Lemony butterscotch, some caramel, mushroomy with sweet oxydative notes on the nose. Ugh, sour lemony popcorn aspects on the palate, this was shot. Too bad, this could have been amazing. We all said mid-/late-1990s white Burg. Duh.
1996 Niellon Chassagne Montrachet Clos de la Truffiere

-#3
Ripe lemony popcorn wrapped in a layer of vanilla oak, the palate was sweet and somewhat fat with a spicy, buttery note to it that ended with a slightly bitter finish. Everyone voted CA.
2000 Pahlmeyere Jason

FLIGHT 2
-#4
Ugh, caramelized apples and not much more anywhere, neither on the nose or palate. I wrote "Undrinkable", and we all guessed another mid-1990s white Burg.
1995 Ramonet Batard-Montrachet Argh!

-#5
Right off the bat, this reminded me of those CostCo apple pies you see warming in the Bakery section. Not a bad thing, as it offers some nice apple compote and cinnamon aspects, with some hints of oxydation and orange marmalade notes. The palate was slightly fat, with nutty and lemony honey tastes, ending in a surprisingly sour finish. We were all over the map on this one, especially as the bottle shape made us think New World (most said CA, I decided to be a prick and say Australia). We were all wrong.
1991 Gravner Chardonnay

-#6
At first, this had some weird, but not unlikable minty/vegetal notes, which made me think Ramonet and white Burgundy. But the green started to dissipate, replaced by an almost petrolly smell, wrapping itself around a quartz and lemon core. In the mouth, this was medium-bodied and certainly tasted better than it smelled, with honeyed lemon, striking minerality and a nice, medium, well-balanced finish. We all said white Burg.
1992 Lafon Meursault Genevriere

FLIGHT 3
-#7
Orange zest, petrol, nuts and hints of oxydation on the nose, with a spicy, medium-weight frame offering hints of tea, lemon, nuts and ending in a long finish. Another vote for white Burg.
2000 Maltroye Batard Montrachet

-#8
Right off the bat, we could see this was a lighter-bodied wine, as it didn't pour as viscously as the others in the flight. It also smelled lighter, with fresh pineapple, steely lemon cream and light nuts (almonds?). The palate followed through with a similar (relatively) lighter feel, ending in a medium-length finish. Nice, but not in the same league as the others. Votes were all over the place, I said Chassagne Montrachet. Close but no go.
2002 Louis Latour Puligny Montrachet

-#9
Oooh, this smells nice, with minty lemons, almonds, hints of minerals like quartz on the nose. Its feel is nice too, with a medium, balanced body offering more minerals, lemony almonds, and a long, spicy finish. This HAS to be white Burgundy, and I voted as such. Whoops. Surprise of the night!
2005 Dierberg Santa Maria

FLIGHT 4
-#10
The nose is full of fat, ripe lemony almonds, Granny Smith apples, and a certain, lovely musky note. On the palate, this is lovely, even if a bit fat, with lemon and spices and almonds all balanced out by a beautiful, fresh acidity. Another vote for white Burgundy. Again, whoops.
2002 Aubert Richie

-#11
CORKED. DAMNIT.
2001 Lafon Meursault Charmes

-#12
ALSO CORKED. ARE YOU KIDDING ME?
2007 Seven Springs la Source (a Lafon project in Oregon I believe)

FLIGHT 5
-#13
Whoa, this has GOT to be CA: dry almonds, minerals, perfumy oak, ripe lemons on the nose, with similar aspects carried through on the fat, ripe structure, but ending in a surprisingly short finish. Somewhat unbalanced, not to my liking, though I can see why others would enjoy it.
2001 Kistler Cathleen

-#14
Oxydated, nothing but burnt nuts and caramelized apples. Ugh.
2001 Peter Michael Pointe Rouge

-#15
Oooooh, this smells nice, what is it? Lovely herbal mint notes wrapped around a core of minerally lemons, carried through on a steely, elegant frame. The mouthfeel is just as lovely as the nose, with a laser-like precision that lifts flavors of spicy almonds, more fresh mint, and minerally lemons (think those crystallized lemons), with an understated power and elegance that is almost shockingly refreshing. The finish goes on and on and on and on. Quite nice, and we all said white Burgundy.
2001 Ramonet Chevalier Montrachet

FLIGHT 6
-#16
Ripe, honeyed lemons and almonds wrapped themselves around some nice minerals on the nose of this one. In the mouth, it was medium-weighted, with some spicy notes to it and a relatively short finish. I think we all voted CA.
2003 Marcassin Estate

-#17
Very similar aspects to the previous wine, with similarly ripe and honeyed lemons and spices, though the palate was a tad fresher and had better lift from some more acidity and more minerality. I voted white Burg.
2003 Coche Dury Meursault Caillerets

-#18 (not blind) 1979 Chateau Latour
Yep, a red, and a Bordeaux at that, generously offered by a friend of Bob's. Popped and poured, this really should have been decanted a bit, but it was rather nice and reminded me why I used to like Bordeaux so much. Notes of band-aid, funk, dark plums/cherries and soft wood aspects held your attention. The palate was light, with some sweet red fruit still fighting for survival (storage might have been an issue, we weren't sure), herbs, and a nice, balanced finish. Not bad, and a welcome reprieve from all the whites.

POST-DINNER DRINKS
Because 17 bottles of white and 1 bottle of red weren't enough, a few friends joined me for a stumble through the East Village to one of my favorite haunts, Pata Negra. Since we apparently hadn't eaten enough, either, we ordered a plate of the legendary Pata Negra ham, and while that melted on our tongues, we drank a Rose Txakoli.

-2008 Rose Txakoli (name forgotten in the mists of hangover)
Gorgeous color, with flower red berry notes, and just a hint of spritz to tickle your nose. Very light-bodied, this perked up the palate with lively acidity and fresh berries and flowers on the tongue. A great way to end the night, I might add, as the fruit was just ever-so-slightly sweet.

Conclusions: We thought it would be easier to pick out the New World from the Old World, but it turned out to be harder than anticipated. I might add, however, that while we did have most of the best of the best of CA, we didn't really have the best of the best of Burgundy. No Montrachet, only one Chevalier, and the Batards were undrinkably oxydized. WOTN for most was the Aubert, followed closely by the Ramonet Chevy.

Still, it was a fun evening, and a big thanks to all who made it and donated so generously from their cellars.
Cheers!

Market Watch: Barcelona's Boqueria

2009-07-02T18:59:00.018-04:00

After France, I returned to Barcelona for a few days of exploration and rest. Travelling non-stop almost every day does get tiresome sometimes. Actually, most of the time. Yeah, I'm going to vineyards in the South of Europe, but still, it does wear one down. So staying put for more than 3 days was a real treat. And, I got to visit some beautiful sites in a city I didn't know well at all, including the world-famous Boqueria Market. So, without further annoying interference from moi, here are a few pics for your perusal.

WARNING: Might cause a sudden sense of vertigo, induce drool, and cause your knees to weaken.

Cheers!

A Week in the South of France

2009-06-25T19:50:00.008-04:00

Yeah, there are worse places to be in early summer. Sometimes, despite all the difficulties, there are some nice aspects to this job. I spent a week travelling back and forth between the Languedoc and the Rhone, visiting my current and potential wineries.

I started off at La Bouscade, my Minervois producer that is making some great, juicy, but not over-the-top wines right outside of Carcassonne. Between visiting the vineyards and tasting the wines, I helped replace the tire on a tractor in the middle of a field.

I had time to take some pictures of the vines under the bright, warm sun, tiny berries just starting to appear as the summer started.

It was such a pleasure to see David, his lovely wife Jo, their kids, and taste their wines. We had a fantastic time catching up and visiting, their wines are really something special and are doing really well in NYC, I am happy to say.

Next I headed East to Chateauneuf-du-Pape, the ancient capital of the Avignon Papacy and heart of the Rhone's wine-producing region. This hilly land is overseen by the ruins of the castle, towering over the town itself and the rocky vineyards around it.

In Chateauneuf, I joined some travelling friends from the US for a lovely lunch at Domaine Pegau, the reputed Chateauneuf producer. There, Laurence Feraud, the winemaker, took us for a tour and tasting before opening her heart, cellar and kitchen to us.

When we came to the house, we were greeted by a lovely table. Here, we shared in Laurence's generosity with a delicious meal and good friends.

Oh, and of course, some quite nice wines.

We also had a chance to visit other domaines, including Bosquet des Papes, the classic Chateauneuf winery. To say the 2007s are good, well, that's an understatement of massive proportions.

We also stopped in at a favorite of mine, Pierre Usseglio. Again, we tried the 2007s, and were rewarded with beautiful, fresh fruit and vivid acidity. 2007 is indeed a wonderful vintage, from what I've tasted in the Rhone so far.

Vieille Julienne was another stop, and here the 2007s were also fantastic, with some differences in style and price of course. But still, WOW.

I ended my visit to the Rhone with one of the best, if not THE best, meals of my entire trip to Europe. Dinner at Gerard Alonso was really good, with pristine ingredients, a beautiful setting, great wines (2005 Allemand Cornas les Chaillots - yum!), and good friends. The chesse tray alone is worth the visit!

The next day, I hopped on a train and headed South, to the border with Spain. The train was clean, air-conditionned (wow!) and on-time, a real pleasure to take between cities. How come we don't have anything like this here in the US???? For about 28 Euros, I could travel for hundreds of kilometers in a comfortable environment. It is ridiculous and shameful to think that the leader of the Free World can't make a train system that works well.

It was such a pleasure to find myself back in the wine-producing areas of France. The weather was great, the food was delicious, and of course the wines profound. Best of all, it's always a thrill to find oneself among people who are passionate about what they do. And, I am thrilled to say that the 2007s are just gorgeous, real beauties to taste and drink.
Cheers!

A Day in Saint Chinian

2009-06-15T17:23:00.004-04:00

Where? Look at the map. If it looks like the middle of nowhere, then you've got the right idea.

During my stay in Europe, I had a chance to pop over the border and visit my Saint Chinian producer, Clos Bagatelle. There, I was greeted by Luc and Christine, the brother and sister winemaking team that I profiled a while back. They are making wines that reflect their terroir's gifts while maintaining a lovely elegant style that differs drastically from most St Chinians.

Luc is the vineyard manager, and while I was there he drove me through the torturous roads that wind their way through the local hills to show me his Saint Jean de Minervois plot. This vineyard is planted to Muscat, and makes a very particular dessert wine. While it actually only received its AOC qualification in 1949, the area has been making wines since the Romans were sauntering about.

As you can see from the pictures, it's a very stony soil at the top of a hill that overlooks the region. The wind was a constant howling companion, washing over the crest of the hill and rustling the vines. After about an hour of this, I began to believe the local legends that say it can drive someone mad.

More interestingly, however, was the way the vines were planted. They were all staked individually, and grew to no more than 1 meter in height. Big deal, right? No, because these tiny vines have to be plucked by hand. As difficult as hand-harvesting is, this must be back-breaking!

We also drove to some of Clos Bagatelle's other parcels, planted to traditional varieties like Syrah, Mourvedre, Grenache and Carignan. All are beautifully maintained to ensure the highest quality grapes. Which is where Christine's skills come into play...

Christine is the winemaker for Clos Bagatelle. She coaxes beautiful flavors and aromas by doing a post-fermentation blend, and can spend many days trying to figure out the perfect assemblage. She is looking for freshness but also a certain transparency of the region's terroir. Many of her neighbors make wines that are somewhat over-blown and even cooked due to the heat. Not Clos Bagatelle.

Thanks to Luc's skills in the vineyard, the grapes are never abused, and once they're in Christine's capable hands the results are there for everyone to taste. And boy did I taste! Going through their entire portfolio made me smile. This domaine is a winner and is one to watch. Their wines are fantastic, though of course I am just mildly biased...
Cheers!
PS: More pictures are available on the Vinotas Selections' Facebook Fan Page.

Dalí

2009-06-08T16:18:00.007-04:00

And now, for something completely different... (and by that I mean no food or wine in this post... I know, shocking!)

Dalí.

Need I say more? The very name evokes a weirdly different and quite unique way of looking at the world. The man was a legend in his own time and in his own mind, a Surrealist who embraced the ideas of the movement and took them to an extreme. His works make you look at the things with new eyes, making new interpretations of what we consider reality.

While in Figueres, in north-eastern Spain, I had a chance to stop by the Dalí Museum, and it was like stepping into a warped, twisted, somewhat disturbing version of reality. Actually, there were some lovely things to see, but also some rather strange experiences, and a few downright frightening ones as well. But then, that's the world according to Dalí, right?

He was quite the prodigious artist, and his works were not limited to any one form. There are films, paintings, drawings, sculptures, jewelry, anything he could get his hands on and transform into something similar but different. It was quite fascinating to see, and it is evident that he liked to play with his viewers.

So, without further fuss, here are some pics from that outing. Some are lovely, others weird, and yet others frightening, but they all make you look at the world and the things in it with new eyes. Or at least strange eyes.

See the face?

See the face? Hint: he's on the US penny

Dalí's resting place, supposedly, in the middle of the floor of his museum

An interpretation of his wife, Gala

A landscape, or something else...?

Dalí's bed

The spoon snake

Yet again, an interpretation of Gala

Look familiar?

Dalí's car

Dalí's face

All in all it was a nice learning experience, as the art is, to put it mildly, interestingly different. I am not sure how much I liked it, but I did enjoy his plays on how we view the world.
Cheers!

The Running of the Winos

2009-05-27T10:10:00.008-04:00

Recently, I found myself in Pamplona, in the Spanish Basque country, for the Alimenta 2009 exhibit. Of course, Pamplona is better known for the running of the bulls, but we were here for the running of the winos, charging thirstily from table to table to taste and discover what the Navarran countryside had to offer. Like the bulls, I was on a single-minded mission: to find new, interesting wineries using traditional techniques and grapes.

This area has been making wine for centuries, but most of it has been rustic and rough or easy-going and uninteresting. There also does seem to be a significant French influence, as there was in Empordà: the wines were generally higher in acid than those of the more Southern Spanish areas like La Mancha, but this could also be a function of the climate and terroir.

In any case, I did find this tasting somewhat difficult. There were a ton of wineries with over-ripe international varieties (Chardonnay, Cab Sauvignon, Merlot) when they should have been promoting and using their traditional grapes like Viura, Tempranillo, Garnatxa and Monastrell. And let's not talk about the use (or rather, abuse!) of oak...

However, I had a chance to visit the town of Pamplona, so please enjoy these pictures. It's a small but colorful town as you'll see, and we did an organized tour following the path the bulls take (800 meters in 3 minutes, no human can run that fast so the best you can hope for is 8-10 seconds in front of 3 tons of charging, angry meat, then hop the wall).

There were enticing tapas bars...

Colorful friezes...

Cute buildings filled the city around every corner

Spanish-style cathedrals (well duh, we were in Spain, right?).

Really? Is this place even necessary?

City Hall and the square where the St Fermin festival (the running of the bulls) is inaugurated every year.

The main square of Pamplona, with the hotel where Hemingway spent many nights drinking.

Lots of Basque influence too, obviously, as we're right by San Sebastian and the Basque Country.

Really tiny buildings too.

Oooh, Jamon Iberico!

This is the source of the water that Saint Saturnin used to baptize the earliest Christians.

The entry to the bullring, seen from the point-of-view of a charging bull. Or wino.

A statue dedicated to the brave (Foolish? Drunken?) souls who run during the Feria.

In a fit of thorough self-mockery, the artist included himself in his work. He's the guy who fell!

Our last dinner, complete with a professional carver and Pata Negra.

All in all I learned a bit about the wines of the region, though they, like most of Spain, have been thoroughly influenced by powerful critics. Many of the wineries have forsaken their roots and are making wines that could be from anywhere. That said, I did find some interesting stuff that was honest and true to its roots, so hopefully I'll be able to work with them.
Cheers!

Girona Flower Festival

2009-05-21T03:28:00.003-04:00

While in Empordà, we had a chance to visit the famous Flower Festival in Girona. This event, 40 years old now, invites citizens of this lovely ancient city to decorate their homes and streets in flowers and artwork. In addition, people open their houses to the street so strangers can file in and enjoy the work.

Even the river gets into the action, with a 3 meter-wide floating flower.

In the museums, flowers are appropriately framed.

In the ancient Muslim bathhouse, we discovered a veritable cornucopia of beauty.

On the roof, virtual rabbits played in a virtual carrot garden, to everyone's delight, especially theirs.

Here, proof that both the citizens and their mannequins threw themselves into the project.

Surveying it all, a modern gargoyle and an ancient one shared the view.

We were even interviewed by the local news crew, wondering what a large group of Americans with black teeth were doing hanging out drinking beer.

Art and beauty in the city were not ephemeral like the flowers, here a metal door beckons hungry travelers.

Open doorways invited people to peek inside, though everything was carefully protected by bars.

The modern artwork was juxtaposed nicely with the ancient, more permanent one.

Ever appreciative of beauty, even the French had given something to the city: this bridge, designed and built by the Eiffel company, you know, the folks who brought you that little tower in Paris.

It looked like a Spanish, one-river version of Venice, with narrow, brightly-colored buildings, all neat and proper on one side, all festooned in garlands of flowers on the other.

We ended our day at Mimolet, where we enjoyed a fantastic meal of local foods, finishing up well past midnight. The next day we would all head back out into the world, with fond and flowery memories of our time in Empordà.
Cheers!

Random Bad Translation Pic of the Day

2009-05-20T07:16:00.002-04:00

This is what happens when someone doesn't even use the Internet for translation (I mean, Google Translation HAS to be better, right?) For the record, even though I was in a duck mood, the thought of "Thigh of Hopeful Duck" was a little sad, so I opted for the "Mask of Pork" (pork cheeks).

I was a little worried about the "scum", but it turned out to be creme Chantilly. No harm, no foul, no scum. Still, I went for the apples braised in Catalan cream (a bit cinnamonny but good).
Cheers!

Empordà, Spain

2009-05-16T12:22:00.007-04:00

Where?

Yeah, I said the same when I heard I was going there. It’s in the northeast sector of Spain, just south of the French border (heck, I could walk there from where we were). Even though I (and most people I spoke with) had never heard of it, it’s also Spain’s oldest wine-growing region. The Romans came here 2,000 years ago, planted vines, and never looked back.

Looking at the Pyrenees towards France
Today, it’s a fascinating area of rolling foothills and winding roads. The northerly Tramontana wind blows constantly, and like the Mistral in France, has a tendency to drive people mad. Also like the lands just north of the border, there is a large amount of slate in the ground, giving a nice mineral note to the wines while making the vines really work for their fruit. The area achieved DO (Denominacion de Origen, say it with the “th” sound replacing the “c”, so it’s pronounced Denominatheeon; go ahead, I’ll wait) status in 2006, and after this trip, it’s easy to see why.

First, a disclaimer: I am usually not a big fan of many (not all, so don’t get all up in my visage about this) Spanish wines. I find them over-ripe, over-oaked, low-acid, and basically over-done. And the prices for some of these ooze monsters aren’t exactly easy on the wallet. Heck, some of the cheapest Spanish wines I’ve tasted have been the best because they weren’t whacked with tons of oak and extracted to high Heaven (or Hell).

So while I kept an open mind about this trip, I was a bit skeptical.

However, after three days of tasting and visiting wineries in the (quite beautiful) region, I am convinced there are well-made wines to be found in this area. In general, the wines expressed a sense of terroir that I sometimes find lacking in other Iberian wines. They all had a relatively high amount of acidity, and while some were over-oaked, most were balanced. Most of the wines exhibited a lean earthy minerality in their mid-palate that I found refreshing, and a nice amount of acidity to balance the big fruit they get there. The main sticking point for me was, for the most part, price.

I found familiar and not-so familiar grape names on the bottles: Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Tempranillo, Torrontes, Macabeo, Samsò (orginally, I thought this was Cinsault, as the two are pronounced exactly alike, which led to a somewhat Abbott and Costello-ish routine with one winemaker until we cleared things up. Oh, what is it? Carignan, as they can't call it that here as a DO in Spain is named Cariñan and the authorities don't want any confusion...). However, some grape names were in Catalàn, a dialect that when spoken sounds half-Spanish, half-French, all said with a Portuguese accent. Interesting, to say the least.

So as I said, I found some interesting things that I'll follow-up with in the coming days. We'll see...
Cheers!

The Lighter Side of Wine

2009-05-04T10:09:00.004-04:00

It's been a crazy 10 days or so since the NY Times review came out, so I've been swamped with work and haven't really had time to write. Add to that the fact that I've had a serious case of Writer's Block (high frustration, low creativity), and, well, what you've got is not as much updating of this blog as I'd like. My goal was to have at least 1-2 posts per week, I'm down to 1 every 10 days. Not good.

In the meantime, I've partaken of some wonderful wine dinners and shared some great times. This got me thinking, which is never a good thing, and all of a sudden I find my fingers flying over the keyboard.

Sometimes, people take wine too seriously. It becomes the focus of the meal as opposed to something that should be enjoyed and shared among friends. Two recent events stand out: a picnic in Central Park a few weekends ago (the one Saturday it hasn't been cold or rainy), and a dinner at Peking Duck House last Friday. Both are exemplary of what wine should be, in my mind, at least.

In both cases, we had some wonderful and some not-so-wonderful bottles, yet the main motive was to gather friends together and enjoy each other's company over these bottles. Too many times I've gone to dinners and all we had in common was the wine, and the moment someone stopped talking about them all you could hear were the crickets (yes, even in the city, we have them). That quickly becomes mind-numbingly boring, and I start asking myself, "Where's my gun?" Then I recall that I am in New York, and I don't own a gun, but that bus lane is quite close and a quick leap could free me from this morbid gathering.

Wine is supposed to be fun. Yes, it's all good and nice to analyze and think about it, but at the end of the day, it's a convivial beverage that you are supposed to share with your friends and family. All the analysis should be done at the professional tastings. After that, relax and enjoy yourself. Life is too short to take so many things so seriously.

HAVE FUN.
Cheers!

The Muscadet has Arrived!

2009-04-15T18:01:00.003-04:00

Well, just in time for Spring's warmer weather and amid all the bad news about the economy and the world, some good news, at least for me and for lovers of well-priced, well-made Muscadet. Jean-Pascal Aubron's 2007 Muscadet de Sevre et Maine sur Lie Grand Fief de l'Audigere has finally arrived in New York. The wine distributor T Edward Wines has picked it up and is now distributing it throughout the Tri-State region.

And, better yet, the reaction at a pre-arrival tasting was so good that T Edward actually reordered it before it had even landed on US shores!

So, if you're curious as to what it tastes like, look for this label, and feel free to let me know what you think. You can also find more info about it HERE.

And, not to tease, but some Big News coming soon...
Cheers!

Judging vs Tasting

2009-04-09T16:56:00.007-04:00

This past weekend I was invited to be a judge at the Concours des Vignerons Independants, the Independant Winemakers' Competition, in Paris. As you can imagine, I was very honored. But then again, I'll take any excuse to go to Paris. Even for just 4 days.

Some of the most distinctive wines are being made by these small, often family-run wineries. Most of them are really representative of their terroirs and true to the art of wine making. But, there is still an unacceptable amount of crap being produced, and this weekend I saw the good, the bad and the (really) ugly.

I also got to thinking about the difference between judging a wine and tasting a wine. While it may not seem like there are any, I found there were some subtle differences in the way I looked at the glasses before me.

The format was blind tasting, with two tastings in the morning and two in the afternoon. We were told what regions we'd be examining (in my case, 2007 Chablis 1er Cru followed by 2007-08 Brouilly/Chiroubles, then 2007-08 Saumur whites and 2006-07 Anjou reds on Day 1, then on Day 2 2007 Cotes du Rhones all morning followed by 2007 Petit Chablis and 2007-08 Beaujolais Village/Brouilly in the afternoon) but the bottles were hidden in sleeves. We had to give our impressions of the color, the nose and the taste of the wine, with a final comment and grade (based on 20, using the French system and not the 100 point ratings preferred in the US). Lastly, we had a maximum number of wines that we could recommend for a medal (gold, silver or bronze to be determined at a later competition).

Everyone there was in the wine business in France, whether as active members of professional tasting clubs (of which there are surprisingly many, and which are amazingly well-organized, in contrast to those I frequent in NY) or as members of the wine trade (making, distributing or selling it). And I was happy to see that my palate was quite similar to my table-mates (in general), though there were some times where we had divergent views, as would be expected. It was at this point that I began to see the differences inherent in a judging as opposed to a tasting.

A judging, as the name implies, looks for the qualities in a wine. But drinking wine is, after all, a subjective experience. What I might consider a "good" wine might be considered "bad" by someone else. So it's not as easy as it sounds. I had to fall back onto my own personal standards of what makes a good wine, which I enumerated a long time ago here. Luckily, most of the other judges tended to agree with my scoring, though they did think that I was a harsher grader than they were (if a wine was undrinkable, it got a 0/20, no matter how great it looked).

I found myself doing the same things I'd do at a tasting, but it was all very scientific and cold and less, dare I say, soulful. At a tasting, I'm judging the wine, yes, but I'm also looking for those qualities of wine which make it enjoyable, pleasurable, as well. At a tasting, I can go back to a wine and watch it evolve, but at a judging, it's one after another and God forbid if the wine needs more time to breathe. In fact, there were times when we'd go back to a wine only to find it had changed dramatically, for better or for worse. At a judging, time is a factor, but usually tastings are during dinners so the only constraint is how much liquid remains in the bottle. In addition, I'm comparing the intrinsic value of each wine to see which is "better" and more deserving of both a better grade and a possible recommendation for a medal. So, there are some mental gymnastics going on as well, not something I'm very good at, admittedly.

See, I told you this wasn't as easy as it sounded.

And the results, you ask? Well, the 2007 Chablis 1er Crus were delicious if young, as you'd imagine, and the 2007 Cotes du Rhone were just glorious. The Brouilly and Chiroubles were OK, the Petit Chablis nice but lived up to their names (Little Chablis), the less said about the Anjou reds the better, the Saumurs were quite nice if young (tons of acidity in the 2008s), and the Beaujolais Villages/Brouilly were awful, awful, awful. I don't know who the producers of any of these were, but the medals will be handed out in Colmar, Alsace, at the end of the month. Perhaps one of the wines I recommended will be there, who knows?

In any case, it was an interesting weekend, I met many wine people, ate some great meals, drank some lovely wines, and enjoyed Paris as it's meant to be enjoyed.
Cheers!

Random Pic of the Week

2009-03-31T10:12:00.002-04:00

In keeping with the name of this blog, I found this picture of a sign that I took while wandering the streets of the Lower East Side.

See, it's not always about wine. So there.
Cheers!

Random Wine Bar Rant

2009-03-25T14:53:00.011-04:00

Warning: rant ahead.

The other night I found myself visiting, and really enjoying, a new wine bar. Well, new for me, as I'd never been. This place, The Ten Bells, was homey, and had a very nicely chosen, priced and eclectic wine list. There were crowd-pleasing wines (an Italian Negro Amaro that had good juicy fruit with a hint of earth) as well as geek-pleasing ones (a Cheverny 50% Pinot Noir - 50% Gamay that was full of dirty cherries, the best kind). The food was perfect bar food, small plates at small prices. Think European tapas as opposed to just Spanish ones.

My experience there got me thinking, which is always a dangerous thing, if not to me then to those around me: Why can't there be more little places like this? New York's a big city, we should be drowning in them. Instead we're awash in a sea of appletini-serving "wine" bars that are filled with tourists and B&T'ers trying to get an inauthentically "authentic" New York experience. What the Hell?

Almost every time I go to a new wine bar, it's that in name only. And you can always tell because the wine list is an after-thought that's been designed by their distributor (note the singular, if they're getting all their wines from one source it's a safe bet they just couldn't be bothered to look outside the box, or their liquors were bundled into a money-saving package). In fact, the wines will be stored any which way and the liquors will be prominently displayed behind the bar. Which means that wine isn't their primary concern, despite their name. Lastly, you might recognize some ordinary wines that cost $10-15 in the stores being poured for $10-15 by the glass. The price isn't the issue, it's the "ordinariness" of the wine being poured that is.

So what would I want in a wine bar?

A real wine bar would set itself apart by finding interesting bottles at interesting prices, especially during a recession. If anything, a recession is the perfect time for such places. I mean, folks are dying to forget the sorry state of the economy and not feel like they're getting ripped off, but who wants to drink a $10 Budweiser or a $17 martini made with 4th-tier top shelf vodka or gin? Would you really feel like you've gotten your money's worth? I know I wouldn't.

No, I would want someplace that offers wines that make me sit up and take notice, but also make me forget that the economy's in shambles. A tall order, perhaps. But a few places have succeeded. Heck, I believe every neighborhood should have at least one if not more of these types of wine bars. I posted a while back about NYC's wine bars, and so I'd happily add The Ten Bells to that list. They all offer interesting selections at decent prices while making you feel at home and comfortable.

And in this economy, isn't that something nice to look forward to?
Rant over.
Cheers!

So-So Wines, Great People

2009-03-17T16:46:00.009-04:00

If there's one thing that I appreciate about being a wine lover, it's the people I've met.

I am blessed to be invited to many wine dinners (perhaps too many if one looks at my expanding waistline), most of which feature some of the most transcendental and beautiful wines ever made (read: Burgundy & Champagne). These rare and magical bottles are brought by fellow wine-geeks, to share amongst friends and family. But good wines do not a good dinner make: it's the people that count the most. Just because there are extraordinary treasures on the table doesn't mean the event will be successful. I can recall several dinners where the wines were amazing, yet I was so bored I could have shot myself right then and there. And of course there's the exact opposite: so-so wines, with great people.

The other night I joined an eclectic crew at a local BYO place downtown. We enjoyed ourselves perhaps despite the wines, which shall remain nameless to protect the innocent. The food was good, the service excellent, and the wines... well, the less said about them, the better, as I mentioned earlier. But, and this is important, we had so much fun we laughed for hours. Perhaps it was actually because of the wines?

In any case, I think this is the most important thing to remember: the people I've met are what make this hobby of ours so much fun. They have, in general, been exceptionally generous, both with their wines as well as their friendship. And to me, this, aside from the wines they might bring to a dinner, is what counts the most.
Cheers!

Champagne Ruinart at Alto

2009-03-06T17:13:00.009-05:00

I love Champagne, as anyone who's followed this blog knows by now, especially well-made Champagne. And if there's anything I love as much as Champagne, it's old Champagne. So when the Chef de Caves of Champagne Ruinart, Frederic Panaiotis, asked me to organize another dinner in New York, I jumped at the chance. Our first one, last year, was an amazing success. This time we decided to do something a bit different and try a Piedmontese restaurant, Alto, in Midtown. The food lent itself surprisingly well to Champagne, as we were to discover.

Frederic checks the wine
Even though this is a relatively larger Champagne house, Ruinart still tries to maintain an artisanal view of winemaking. And this comes through in the end product, with wines of elegance and complexity that put to shame some, if not many, of the other houses. And even if they're owned by a large comglomerate, you still get the sense that they have maintained their independence pretty well.

The table is set
Tastings like this also blur the line between business and pleasure. I mean, I represent other, smaller wineries, yet here I am organizing a dinner for a Champagne house that's imported and distributed by a luxury comglomerate. How can I reconcile the inherent contradictions? Easily, and the answer goes to the whole definition of what it means to be a wine-lover. I am sharing a wonderful dinner with some old, some new, friends, people who care less about the marketing and sales aspects of the event as they do about its sheer enjoyment. So despite the fact that technically we're competitors, we sit at the same table and enjoy the fruit of our labors.

NV Ruinart Blanc de Blancs, 1998 BdB, 1996 BdB
As we waited for folks to arrive, we began pouring the NV Ruinart Blanc de Blancs, a lovely 100% Chardonnay (as the name implies - white from white). Right from the get-go, this was lovely and flowery. It was soon followed by its bigger brothers, the 1998 and the 1996. While the 1998 was ready to drink and crisp, the 1996 had a more earthy, truffly note that had me swooning.

Sommelier Eric Zillier opens bottles
The first course, Tonno Bianco, arrived, and more wines began appearing, with the 1993 announcing the next flight, a lovely and crisp wine that had racy acidity to liven its frame. Then came a comparison of the 1990, one from a regular 750 ml bottle, the other from a magnum. Vive la difference! The magnum was fresh and clean, while the bottle had begun to show some softer sides of ageing, with a hint of caramelization and some truffles. Frankly, the magnum tasted as if it had just been put in bottle. Yum! The last wine in this flight was the 1988, another wine of exquisite elegance with both youthful and aged traits dancing around a structure in its middle that will keep it young for some time.

Frederic holds L'Exclusive
One of our guests then generously offered his bottle, a 1969 Blanc de Blancs. What is it about this week? Two 1969 Champagnes in the space of a few days (my post of the 1969 Dom Perignon is here)! While this one was noticeably older and faded when compared to the Dom Perignon, it was a pleasure to taste as it still had life to it. Not much, but there was some.

The sommeliers then began arriving with champagne that had already been poured: a blind tasting of something special. We all bent to the task, sniffing, swirling, tasting, and trying not to make asses of ourselves. There were aged aspects intermingling with youthful notes, racy acidity and a stunning frame that held everything up for your approval. Wow, what the heck was this? Some said a 1985, others a 1990, someone mentioned 1979, a year I had in mind as I trained my senses on the wine. Well, as it turned out, we were all wrong: this was L'Exclusive, a singular blend of 1996, 1993, 1990, 1988 and 1986, some of the best vintages in recent times, and all classified 100% Grand Cru. Amazing, absolutely amazing, with a deep complexity that had me coming back for more and more.

This blend had been made for the Millenium, put into an eighteenth-century glass bottle and encased in a steel cage designed by Christofle. The bottle, as you can see, is both impressive and beautiful. How cool!

These two went perfectly with the Wild Mushroom Risotto.

The Rosés arrive!
With our main course, Roasted Squab, magnums of the Rosés began to be poured, first the 1988, with a tough shell hiding a soft interior that had to be pried open, then the 1986, bridging the gap between the 1988 and the next, the 1985, which revelled in its deliciousness like a preening beauty queen. That 1985 was just gorgeous, really à point, as they say in French, both creamy and steely at the same time.

Rosés by candlelight
A lovely stink arose, and a plate of cheeses was set before us. Another round of magnums showed up, with the 1990 leading the charge, followed closely by the 1996. Both of these were quite nice yet way too young and tight, not willing to show very much without some serious effort on the taster's part. After some vigorous swirling (my forearms will start to look like Popeye's soon!), I coaxed some lovely berry and cream notes from the wines, on stupendously elegant frames. Think of a salmon-colored skyscraper who's steel internal structure has risen and is visible, with the outer layers just starting to appear. You can see what will develop soon, but it's not there yet.

The dinner ends
As we ended the night, one final magnum appeared: the NV Ruinart Rosé. This to me is one of the best Rosés on the market today, with both ripe berry accents and a beautiful acidity that keeps it fresh and lively on the palate. This wine's complexity belies its price, which has always been on the friendly side.

What a way to welcome Frederic, yet again, to New York. I wish he came through here more often! Who ever said there's never too much of a good thing was right, I could drink these wines all day, especially the ones with some age. These are complex wines that should be slowly shared and enjoyed amongst friends and family, wine-geeks or not.

A big MERCI to all those who made this dinner possible!
Cheers!

1969 Dom Pérignon

2009-02-27T10:50:00.006-05:00

Sure, Dom Pérignon is a massive marketing success, sure it's nothing but a brand from Moët et Chandon, but let's be fair: it tastes pretty damned good. It has been consistently well-made for generations, and even though I prefer to support the small farmer-growers in Champagne, when an older Dom shows up, I can't resist it.

Dom Pérignon is a vintage Champagne, which means it's only made in what are considered "good" years. It's mainly a blend of 55% Chardonnay and 45% Pinot Noir, though this assemblage might vary from year to year depending on the quality of those grapes. It was first made in 1921, and since then has been a fantastic marketing and qualitative success. As someone who represents small wineries, it pains me to admit it, but this stuff is pretty damned good, considering it's from a huge comglomerate. Best of all, it ages beautifully.

And as someone who appreciates a good bottle of older Champagne, I can really appreciate the beauty of older Doms. The other night a friend popped a 1969 Dom Pérignon, and once again I was reminded of one of the side-benefits to being a wine lover: the generosity of spirit that prevails among our kind.

This wine was absolutely beguiling. When it was first popped, it was a bit cold, but as it warmed up it began to unfold, offering stunning aromas of light coffee, brioche, white chocolate, soft lemons and gorgeous minerality. The finish went on and on and on, and I was hard-pressed not to empty the glass in one fell swoop. My patience was well rewarded, and I enjoyed this for a long time. I tried not to think that I was drinking a bit of history, drinking a wine that was made before I was born, and I think I succeeded. In any case, I really liked this bottle.

Can you tell?
Cheers!

Shameless Demotion: Tasting Cancelled (a good thing!)

2009-02-18T13:01:00.004-05:00

I suppose as problems go, this is a good one: the Wine Library has actually run out of my wines, they sold out so fast. So, there's nothing left to pour on Saturday the 21st. But fear not, I am hard at work prepping the next shipment of wines, I wouldn't want you to go thirsty. But to be honest, I didn't expect them to move this fast. Again, a good problem to have.

I must admit I am a bit disappointed, I had been looking forward to this tasting. I really do love meeting people and chatting about my wines. It's not everyday that someone takes a sip, turns to you, and says, "Your wines taste more expensive than they actually are." Things like that make me smile and make all my work definitely feel worthwhile.

So if you'd planned on coming, I thank you, and if you've tasted the wines (and hopefully liked them), I thank you too. And if you just read this blog and wonder what the heck I'm talking about, well, I thank you too!
Cheers!

Shameless Self-Promotion: Mini-Portfolio Tasting on 2/21 at Wine Library

2009-02-16T07:56:00.004-05:00

Dear Readers,

Come to the Wine Library in Springfield, NJ, on Saturday, February 21st, from noon to 4pm.

I will be pouring three of my wines, L'Agary (a red from the Languedoc), the delicious La Bouscade (a 100% Syrah from the Minervois) and the fantastic Domaine Didier et Catherine Tripoz Macon Charnay le Clos des Tournons (oak-less Chardonnay from 45-year old vines in a walled-in plot).

Best of all, none of these retails for more than $15!

Have fun, taste some great wines, and meet some fellow wine-lovers!
Cheers!

Madame Picpoul Arrives

2009-02-11T15:57:00.004-05:00

Well, I am thrilled to announce that Felines Jourdan's winemaker, Claude Jourdan, will be doing the rounds of New York City on Friday the 13th of February. It's always a thrill when one of my winemakers comes to town. It's also a thrill to say "my winemaker" or "my winery", even though technically they're not "mine"; all I do is represent and sell them to wholesalers. Still, after almost a year of doing this, I get a cheap little shiver of excitement every time I say it. Makes me smile, knowing I'm finally doing something I love.

As for the wines, Felines Jourdan's Picpoul de Pinet can be found all over the city, in lots of restaurants and stores. They usually retail for about $11-14 depending on the place. To say it's a good seller is an understatement.

We'll be walking around the city, so if you see some geeky guy (me), a cute lady (Claude) and some other person (our Gabriella Wines salesperson) walking around with long, thin, green bottles, feel free to say hello. You might also get a taste of some great white wine!
Cheers!

Big News: A New Addition to the Portfolio!

2009-02-09T10:17:00.007-05:00

OK, OK, I know, this isn't huge news, but this doesn't happen very often. I am infinitely picky and annoyingly slow at adding wineries to my portfolio, but then again that's how I work, so deal with it. However, I am happy to announce that I have decided to add this winery, Clos Bagatelle, to my line-up.

This domaine has been run by the same family since 1623, when their ancestors bought plots of land in and around the town of Saint-Chinian. Today, they farm 60 hectares (approx. 148.31 acres) of vineyards, whose soils are a combination of shist, limestone and clay, at an average altitude of 120 meters (396 feet).

The brother-sister team of Christine and Luc manages the estate these days. Their wines are really special and well-made, never too ripe or over the top but well-balanced by their fruit and their acidity. What results are wines that are not just traditional, but offer a certain sense of place and time that is defined by the term terroir. And if their basic bottling, le Clos Bagatelle Tradition, retails for more than $13, you're in the wrong store. I'm just saying.

The landscape, as you can see, is rough, stoney, and dry, perfect for really abusing the vines and making them work for a living. Only through suffering (of the vines) can greatness be achieved!

They treat their vines with the utmost care, using sustainable agriculture methods, and harvest everything manually. Their oldest vines can be found on the hilltops, where 50+ year-old Grenache and Cinsault thrive despite their age and the drought-like conditions.

Finally, older wooden barrels are used to soften the wines and add a certain "roundness" to them without imparting oak flavors. The results speak for themselves.

Their basic bottling, the Clos Bagatelle Cuvée Tradition, is a blend of Grenache (40%), Syrah (20%), Carignan (20%), Cinsault (10%) and Mourvèdre (10%). The nose offers dark fruits and berries with hints of guarrigue, which follow through on the palate on a lovely frame that is well-structured and refreshing.

The Clos Bagatelle Donnadieu Cuvée Camille et Juliette is an assemblage of Grenache (40%), Carignan (30%), and Syrah (30%) and comes from hilltop-planted, old-vine Grenache and Cinsault (50+ years old). Much more Rhône-like than its sibling, this offers dark berries with game, meat and olive notes.

The Clos Bagatelle Donnadieu Cuvée Mathieu et Marie also comes from old-vine Grenache (20%) but has more Syrah (50%), with Mourvèdre (15%) and Carignan (15%) rounding out the blend. Another wine that is reminiscent of the Rhône, this wine has darker fruits than the Cuvée Camille et Juliette, with some guarrigue and an almost bacon-like note that appears with some air.

So if you're a distributor looking to add something interesting and unique, feel free to contact me. I'll be showing these wines around in the next few weeks, so wish me luck!
Cheers!

Comfort Wines

2009-02-04T11:48:00.007-05:00

When a death in the family hits you hard, you immediately look for things and people to comfort you. Friends and family come to the rescue, reminding us of how rich we are in real terms, not monetary or material ones. And we turn to those things which inspire and impassion us to help us through the difficult times.

Seeking to celebrate the memory of my deceased aunt, who enjoyed life to the fullest (hmmm... must run in the family), I turned to what I would term "comfort wines". For me, of course, this would be Burgundy and Champagne. However, the stores in this part of the US are sorely lacking in interesting bubbly, leaving me no choice but to open a few of my Burgundies and the occasional Rhône.

My go-to red Burg down in FL is one I stocked up on a few years ago and which has never led me astray: the 2005 de Villaine Côte Chalonnaise la Digoine. Its white counter-part is the 2004 Carillon Puligny Montrachet. Both of these offer huge bangs of pleasure for the buck.

The Digoine was beautiful from the get-go, and as a vehicle for pleasure delivery, this lived up to its promise. It got better as it breathed, with lovely earthy cherries wrapped in a silken, minerally structure that ended with a long finish. Absolutely yummy, and look at that, I've got some more left!

The Carillon was absolutely crispy at first, with an almost quartz-like mineral structure wrapped in lemon zest. As it warmed up, almond skins and green apples rounded it out, giving it a soft wrapping of a steely skeleton with a medium finish. And as it breathed more, and seemed to gather more and more strength on itself, becoming an absolutely swoonaliciously good wine. Damn, that was my last bottle!

Then I found something interesting, something I'd heard about for a long time but had never had. Not that I was really looking that hard, but I had always wanted to taste de Villaine's famed Aligote. This grape usually doesn't make awe-inspiring wines, but, as with all things, something good can come of it in the right hands. Aligote from good producers can be quite nice. And despite the insinuations of those around me, I actually do have an open palate (and mind!).

At first sniff, the 2005 de Villaine Bouzeron Aligote, a somewhat deep golden-colored wine offers hints of wax and white flowers, wrapped in Granny Smith apples, but ripe ones. On the palate, it's got an interestingly waxy mouthfeel, reminding me of Chenin, but with more lemon and ripe apple taste than the Loire's grape. As it breathes, more lemons and some almonds show up to drift in the air above the wine, and similar aspects appear on the palate. The acidity was a bit shrill, but the riper notes kept it in check, and the finish was somewhat long. Not bad, an interesting experiment.

Then, being in FL and right by the ocean, I picked up some fantastic-looking (and eventually tasting) scallops. I also happened upon a bottle of 2004 de Villaine Rully Les Saint Jacques. OK, so it's a cheap tongue-in-cheek play on words. Apparently de Villaine seems to have flooded FL with his wines, and I have had the good fortune to find them all. Anyway, all you French-speakers are nodding, all you others are asking yourselves WTF is he talking about. Well, scallops in French is Saint Jacques, so I had scallops with a wine named after scallops. Sadly, that's about as clever as I get, folks. Shows over.

So, on to the wine. On the nose, beautiful notes of ripe scallops (do those exist? Would I want to taste or smell them if they did? Whatever, it smelled like that), with lemon zest and some red apples, and a slight herbal note. The palate was lean but well-rounded, with sparkling acidity (it felt like little stars going off in my mouth, really neat and definitely interesting). Very Chablis-like, but at the same time not. Very cool.

As this past week has wound down, I've taken to opening anything except for my last Digoine, so now came the Rhône varieties. First up was a bottle of 2004 Domaine Gauby Le Soula Vin de Pays des Côtes Catalanes. Interesting, to say the least. Ripe but not-too-ripe pineapple, bananas, lemons and some spicy hints on the nose. Some fat almonds showed up later as it breathed, adding some dimension and depth. The palate was not as fat as expected, surprisingly so considering where it's from (near the border with Spain on the Mediterranean side). That pineapple carried through, as did the other aspects, but they were all presented on a mineral platter that helped balance the fruitier side of the wine. Very pleasant, though I would have liked a bit more acidity (then again, I am an acid freak).

Next came the 2004 Janasse Chateauneuf du Pape Vieilles Vignes. Ooooh... This is a bruiser right from the get-go, but in that pleasant way that Chateauneuf can be in the right hands. Kirsch liqueur, brambles, cassis, some meaty notes and tons of dark cherries fill your nose, with just a hint of heat. It's a medium-bodied wine despite this, with those aspects carried through onto the tongue in a slightly sweet/ripe envelope and ending with a coffee-esque finish that lasted a while. Again, there was a light hint of heat at the back, which was a bit disconcerting, but still, this was nice. As it sat in the glass, more of the meaty notes came out, as did a harissa, Middle-Eastern spice note, reminiscent of a lamb tagine's smell right from the oven. Yum!

Overall, despite this being a pretty crappy 10 days, I have managed to reconnect with family from far afield, done some business, and tasted some pretty darn good wines. We toasted my aunt, who lived a wonderful life and was the epitome of elegance, both inner and outer. I smile as I write these words, knowing that she was always happy when surrounded by her family and friends. We are here now, surrounding her in memory.
Cheers!

Out for a bit...

2009-01-28T08:46:00.004-05:00

My trip to Europe has been tragically cut short due to a death in the family. I will be posting soon enough but right now I need to take care of more important things. In the meantime, be assured that I will bore you soon enough with wines I've drank and meals I've eaten, as well as some Big News.

Stay tuned.
Cheers!

A Day in Champagne

2009-01-21T02:51:00.006-05:00

There are many nice things about being in Paris. But one of the best is being only an hour or so by car or TGV from that winemaking region so close to my heart, Champagne. Yes, Champagne... Swoon...

It's a large area, with various terrains and terroirs. In the winter, and in fact for most of the year, the weather is grey and damp, which means the grapes struggle to ripen. But it is this struggle which allows them to retain the high acidity necessary for good Champagne. The soils are mainly chalk with some limestone thrown in for good measure, and each geological feature affects the grapes differently. Limestone usually leads to bigger, brawnier wines, while chalk gives more minerality and precision to the wines.

If you're into vintage Champagne, then you should know that they are comparing 2008 to 1996: lots of acidity but lots of power, and from the few '08 vins clairs (still wines) I tasted, I have to agree. This is going to be a very nice vintage.

Our first stop was cancelled due to a death in the family, so we headed over to our second appointment, at Champagne Veuve Fourny. Located in the small town of Vertus, in the Cotes des Blancs, the family has been making Champagne since the 1930s. However, they were growing grapes as far back as the 1870s. Nowadays, two brothers, Emmanuel and Charlie, run the place. I had heard of them but had never tasted their wines so I was looking forward to this.

They also fully own the tiny plot of land known as the Clos du Faubourg Notre Dame. They make a bottling from the grapes grown in the Clos, and to say it was good would be an understatement. It was fantastic! They also own the only plot of Pinot Noir in the Cotes des Blancs (only white grapes are allowed in this area), which they use to make their rosé (both in saignée and assemblage styles).

We also got a tour of the cellars, where thousands of bottles sit at a 45 degree angle upside down, their lees collecting in their necks. Anyone remember the Charlie Chaplin movie "Modern Times"? His character's hand-twitches after a day on the assembly line would be perfect here. Riddlers, as they were called, used to turn each bottle a tiny bit by hand each day, though now of course there are machines to do this.

Some of the wines are finished in oak, and we saw the malolactic fermentation (where tart malic acid is turned into softer lactic acid) taking place in one cellar. Those are bubbles frothing from the bung.

Emmanuel generously poured all their cuvées for us while we sat in their sun-dappled atrium. The wines were all quite nice, some verging on absolutely fantastic (especially the R and the Rosé). But to me the best part was hanging out with the winemaker and chatting with him, he was both gracious and generous.

My friend Nicos, who drove us to Champagne, liked the wines so much he bought a few, perhaps too many, cases, stuffing them into the trunk of his car. Eventually, we squeezed in and said our good-byes.

We met up with a Champagne writer for Wine & Spirits magazine, Peter Liem, at Champagne Diebolt Vallois. He and the owner, Jacques Diebolt, gave us an expansive tour and tasting. I thought the wines were OK, a bit on the sweet side (his dosage is relatively high compared to Veuve Fourny's). Maybe I was tired and cold and damp, but I seem to recall liking these wines a lot more in the US. Still, it was interesting to meet Jacques, he is quite the character.

All in all it was a good day, despite Nicos' bout of gastro-enteritis and the cold, damp weather. We met some great people, had some great tastings, and came home with a few new wines to share among friends and family.
Cheers!

Morning

2009-01-14T15:54:00.003-05:00

The soft light of morning gently caresses the night's fog, its luminous fingers filling it with color. The mist parts like an ocean in slow motion, the light giving life to amorphous silhouettes, straight walls leading to curved roofs. Shadows become crisp and lucid, revealing a city waking up to a new day. Smells of baking bread and freshly-cleaned streets fill the air, and the sounds of movement and civilization begin to resonate against ancient stone walls. The sun's rays begin to pierce the grey veil, shaking the slumber from the city and its inhabitants.

And me.

I am home. I am in Paris.

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

2008-12-31T09:19:00.001-05:00

I want to wish all my readers and friends a very warm, loving, healthy and happy New Year!
Cheers!

Merry Christmas!

2008-12-25T15:55:00.004-05:00

I just wanted to take this opportunity to wish everyone a very Merry Christmas!
Cheers!

Blind Bubbly Tasting

2008-12-17T12:18:00.002-05:00

I am a big fan of blind tasting. It's humbling, but also very educational. Your mind races as the different flavors flow over your palate, trying to catch ephemeral hints of this and that, trying to figure out exactly what it is you're tasting. It's certainly not as easy as it looks, as the brain has a tendency to project expectations when the eye catches a label, and without this visual confirmation you are left with nothing but your nose and your tongue to figure things out.

That said, blind tasting is fun when it's with friends, but nerve-wracking when you're judging or in a competition. Luckily, this past Friday the blind tasting was with friends, and just as luckily, it was a Champagne tasting.

The theme was Blind Bubblies Under $80, the rationale being that even with a recession most folks would be splurging slightly to celebrate the holidays and the New Year (and for some, the new President). I decided to organize this as a cocktail party, since this is the format in which most people would be drinking these wines at this time of year. All the bottles were wrapped in aluminum foil, and each one was numbered as it arrived.

I won't bore you with detailed descriptors of every single wine, as there were fifteen bottles of bubbly (count 'em, 15!). Even I, a lover of the bubbly, was out-bubbled by the end, and savored the splashes of still red and white wine that were offered by generous friends who had brought extra bottles along for the ride. Apparently, there really can be too much of a good thing. Who knew?

In any case, my favorite of the evening was a 1999 Champagne Vilmart Cuvée Rubis (90% Pinot Noir, 10% Chardonnay), a lovely salmon-colored Champagne that was full of sweet berries and balancing acidity. I think the only flaw, and I am being really anal here, was that it was a tad sweet. I still loved it, as did everyone else. Another favorite was the NV Pierre Moncuit Cuvée Delos, a lovely yeasty wine with nice balance, which to me offered one of the best quality-to-price ratios of the night (approximately $30 in NYC).

Other delicious wines included the 1992 Champagne Dom Perignon, which I am happy to say I nailed blind (well, not the year, but I did say it was a DP). It was quite yummy, still fresh with only some hints of ageing. The 1985 Veuve Clicquot Rosé tasted younger than it actually was, with fresh fruit and baked notes and just hints of the oxydation age gives Champagne.

The NV Champagne Henriot Souverain showed well too, but sadly the 1990 Philiponnat had seen better days. Also good were the NV Champagne Chartogne-Taillet Cuvée Saint Anne, another great QPR wine I used to have as my house Champagne. My least favorites were the 2002 Huet Pétillant, a bubbly from the Loire that was too young and really angry at being poured, and the 2003 Giacosa Spumante Extra Brut, which I didn't care for at all.

All in all, it was an interesting tasting, many of the bubblies were well-made, some were more interesting than others, but almost all offered something for someone. Best of all, we had a great time and laughed until late in the evening. Then again, isn't that what wine is for?
Cheers!

I Love New York- Sripraphai

2008-12-16T08:05:00.006-05:00

There are always small, hidden, out of the way places that can make a trip to the boroughs really worth it. For Manhattanites, it's sometimes inconceivable that there's anything worthwhile outside the borders of our little island, but there you have it. It's a mind-blowing myopia for a city that calls itself the center of the world. Heck, most of us know more about the rest of the planet than we do our own backyard.

One of these little (not-so-hidden) treasures is the Thai restaurant Sripraphai. Located in the wildly mixed neighborhood of Woodside, Queens, this place offers some of the most authentic and inexpensive Thai food in the city. Its modern decor and inviting garden are perfect settings to concentrate on the intense flavors and colors of the dishes. Best of all, it's a short ride on the 7 line from Manhattan.

So, for your viewing pleasure, here are some pictures of the dishes we enjoyed recently. Careful, don't drool on your keyboards!

Cheers!

I Love New York- Wine Bars

2008-12-09T08:48:00.000-05:00

The mallification of New York continues apace, with Duane Reades, CVS (CVI?) and banks sprouting up on corners all about the city. What was once a vibrant metropolis filled with mom and pop stores which reflected their neighborhoods is rapidly becoming the Mall of America, a Las Vegas version of itself, cleaned and respectable, just as the tourists like it.

Yet, as I have posted before, there are still small pockets of originality and independance. The spirit of New York lives on, though it is now somewhat hidden and not blazing defiantly as it once did. It is to celebrate this spirit that I offer a few affordable Manhattan wine bar suggestions for the next time you get thirsty.

These aren't the cookie-cutter places that serve Sutter Home Chardonnay by the glass for $12 or pour more martinis in a night than bottles of wine. These places are proudly independent, resisting the lure of a quick turnover and offering warmth, richness and depth, something that is becoming rarer and rarer these days. These places are the real New York, where you will find real people trying to enjoy real experiences.

-Bar Veloce
Though there are now several of these about town, the East Village location was one of the first real wine bars in the city, with a unique and interesting selection of Italian wines from all over the Boot. The food is very good too (try the paninis and anything with Nutella in it, really), but it's more bar food than a restaurant experience. Just be ready to snuggle with your date and your neighbor as the original is tiny. Really, really tiny.

-Bar Solex
This French wine bar was opened by the folks who brought you Bar Veloce. Another sleek, minimalist wine bar, this one carries mainly high-quality, low-cost French wines. Again, the selection comes from all over the Hexagon (what the French call France due to its relatively hexagonal shape), and has some unique bottles that you won't find elsewhere in the city. These wines showcase the various terroirs that the country can offer. The food is mainly bar food, with some good French pizzas (yes, you read that correctly, they do personal pizzas in the South of France that rival anything in Italy).

-Pata Negra
Now we move on to Spain, which is nicely represented by this tiny, warm and inviting tapas bar in the East Village. With brick-lined walls and only a few tables, Mateo the friendly owner makes you really feel at home. That would be true, of course, if your home had a Spanish Pata Negra ham in the kitchen (and if it does, please feel free to invite me over) as this place does. If you love the pig (and I certainly do!), then this is the place for you. And it's more than likely that you'll catch me here, gorging on some Jamon Iberico and a glass of Rioja.

-Turks and Frogs
The people who run this eccentrically-named wine bar are Turkish, but focus mainly on French wines. Thus, the name. Tiny and inviting, these wine bars (there are 2 locations currently) are refuges, soothing enclaves in which to enjoy a nice glass from an interesting bottle.

-Demare Bistrot
Previously known as Bandol Wine Bar, Demare Bistrot is a warm and welcoming spot in the affordable-gastronomic wasteland known as the Upper East Side. While its neighbors charge astronomical prices for pathetic plonk and over-worked food, Demare has continued to serve well-chosen wines and well-made, solid meals at reasonable prices. Pamela, the owner, greets everyone personally, and ensures that you have a lovely experience.

All these places represent the old spirit of New York in the context of wine bars. There are countless other "wine bars" in the city, but these really offer unique experiences that the others couldn't even imagine. So the next time you're in their areas, stop in and say hello. You might just see me at the bar.

And feel free to post your own finds, I know I missed a few.
Cheers!

Thanksgiving in Florida

2008-12-02T16:43:00.007-05:00

The pre-Thanksgiving lunch
Well, another holiday has passed us by. I hope everyone had a lovely time with friends, family, and the Big Bird.

But I have to admit something: I hate turkey. I really do. Luckily, since I am the one who cooks on Thanksgiving, I get to choose what we're eating. One year it was leg of lamb, but the family complained that it wasn't "Thanksgiving-y" enough, whatever that means. So I relented the following year and made Cornish Game Hens. However, it's nearly impossible to get good quality ingredients where my family is in Florida, so we ended up with Tyson birds. While they were moist and juicy, their flavor was, to put it mildly, vile. Every single bird had a nasty metallic taste to it. This alone should be proof that you must avoid industrially-produced foods at all costs.

So this year, in keeping with the holiday's avian theme, I wandered to the Whole Foods near my mother's place. I was looking for a bird, any bird, beside chicken, turkey, or Cornish Game Hens. To my delight, I found some whole organic ducks, which would satisfy my blood-lust for fatty meat and my family's desire for a bird of some kind.

The Beast awaits its fate
Following a recipe I'd had for a while, I rubbed it with salt, pepper and some herbs, then into the oven it went.

My mother made a lovely ratatouille with the few fresh vegetables she could find in the area. Which meant not too many but just enough for it to taste delicious and look great.

Flipping the bird
After 45 minutes, I turned Daffy over onto his back to let his sinfully delicious fat drain through the whole body, bathing the meat in it.

The duck is done!
Lunch rolled around while we cooked, so I grabbed a bottle of the 2005 A&P De Villaine Côte Chalonnaise La Digoine. I had stashed a few bottles here on my last visit, and good thing too: the store I bought it from had gone out of business! This wine was lovely, with crisp dark cherries balanced by earthy notes on a really silken frame. Just delicious. Happily I have one left for my next trip.

The next day, I grabbed the left-over duck meat, tossed it with some salad and olive oil, and popped a special bottle I'd been saving for our last day: a NV Feuillate Rose Champagne. Gorgeous, creamy cherries and toasty notes filled your mouth, dancing around the little bubbles, with some beautiful acidity to firm things up.

The last lunch
This went quite nicely while sitting on the terrace, overlooking swaying palms, with a soft breeze playing over us. You know, Florida's not that bad after all.
Cheers!

Happy Thanksgiving!

2008-11-25T12:45:00.001-05:00

Enjoy the Big Bird!

I will be with family in Florida, cooking the Big Dinner, and serving Champagne and Burgundy alongside it. If my wines were in this market I'd serve the Felines Jourdan Picpoul, as I think it's both aromatic and crisp enough to hold up to all the different flavors. Then again, I am biased, after all.

Cheers and Happy Turkey Day!

A Week In Paris

2008-11-12T15:22:00.004-05:00

Morning in Paris
Yeah, there are worse places to spend a week than in Paris.

I decided to treat myself to a week in Paris, where I could do some business and also celebrate my birthday. To put it mildly, I have my priorities straight, thank you very much.

I left Macon very early on a Saturday morning, taking the TGV from the quaint little town to the capital. To my surprise, the train was packed to the gills, though everyone was asleep due to the early hour. Rocketing through the fog-shrouded French countryside felt like flying, with nothing but clouds and sun outside the windows and that shallow rocking motion high-speed trains get. What a civilized way to travel!

Upon arrival, my first order of business, of course, was to eat breakfast (espresso and croissant, delicious) then head over to Caves Augé to meet some friends for a tasting of Burgundy producers. The tasting was a lot of fun, we met some great winemakers, tasted some very good wines (especially Marechal and Pacalet), and tasted some not so good wines (nope, won't bad-mouth them). Best of all was hanging outside on the street while tasting, and popping over to a table where some fresh jambon persillé and some paté de campagne were being served. Yum!

We then ran over to Willy's Wine Bar for lunch. A stop at Willy's is de rigueur for me on every trip to Paris. It's a great deal for lunch (20 Euros if I recall correctly), and the wine list is fantastic. We shared a bottle of 2002 Anne Gros Clos de Vougeot "Musigni" which was nice but took forever to open and reveal itself. The best glass, as usual, was the last. Of course.

It was quickly decided that we were still thirsty, so we headed over to Caves Legrand Filles et Fils, across the street. Their wine bar has some interesting selections and the store itself has some deals (sometimes, you need to really do some hunting however).

For some reason, I can't quite recall what I ended up doing for dinner...

The following morning I woke up early and decided that the apartment I rented needed some food, so I hopped on one of the municipal bikes (Velib) scattered throughout the city and headed over to the Boulevard Raspail Organic Market. If I may say so myself, I was quite dashing, with my leather jacket and scarf, speeding through the sleepy streets of Paris on this cold fall morning.

That is, until I hit the streets still paved with cobblestones.

I won't need to worry about having kids after those. Ouch. Those bikes weigh a ton, and have no shocks, so you ladies need to use your imagination, but all the men reading this just winced.

Lesson #1= avoid the cobblestoned streets.

In any case, I piled all the fresh produce (eggs, herbs, salad, etc...) into the little basket at the front of the bike and headed back to my apartment. Problem was that the place I rented was in the 9th, near Place Clichy, which is at the top of a hill. Boulevard Raspail is all the way at the bottom, and across the Seine.

Lesson #2= make sure you have the energy to bike a heavy, steel bike up steep hills before attempting to look cool biking through the City of Light.

After this abuse, I made it back home and prepared a lovely omelette aux fines herbes the way it's supposed to be: runny and gooey and freakishly delicious. There's something about eggs in Europe, they're denser and so much more flavorful than the eggs we get in the US, even from farmer's markets.

My friends Sharon and Arnaud invited me to dinner for my birthday, and much good, no, fantastic wine was consumed over a lovely meal. Highlights included a NV Ruinart Rosé from magnum (WOW), a 2000 Armand Rousseau Ruchottes Chambertin Clos des Ruchottes that was swoonfully good (yes, I just invented that word, deal with it) and a mind-blowingly good 1993 Niellon Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru "Champgains".

Over the course of the week I found a few new wine bars and restaurants that I will add to my revised Wine Geek's Guide to Paris (look on the right-hand side of the blog, link is right there). I also cooked myself some lovely meals and discovered a neighborhood I didn't know very well but ended up really liking.

Now, back in New York, I am re-energized for work and looking forward to showing more of my wines as business grows, even as I long for and miss Paris. Sigh...
Cheers!

A Night in Macon

2008-11-09T16:33:00.005-05:00

The town of Pouilly Fuissé
I left Avignon for Macon, in southern Burgundy, with a heavy heart and a somewhat heavier head (more like a pounding head to be honest). My winemaker, Didier Tripoz, of Domaine Cathérine et Didier Tripoz, picked me up at the tiny train station. I represent their monopole wine, the Clos des Tournons, a walled enclave of old vines (between 30 and 65 years of age). This makes for a lovely, unoaked and full-flavored yet light on its feet Chardonnay that is just making its appearance in the US.

The moment I saw the vine-covered hillsides, I knew I was home: Burgundy! Even though I was an hour south of Beaune, the regional capital, it felt like I was back where I belonged. The vines’ leaves were turning yellowish with the changing of the seasons, making for a beautiful undulating golden carpet. Absolutely glorious.

A rocky spur overlooking vineyards
We dropped my stuff off at the crappy hotel I was staying in (never, ever, ever, stay in a Balladins motel, it’s downright scary: the bathroom was a solid piece of plastic, so I could take a shower while taking care of business while brushing my teeth – a nightmare of efficiency taken to the extreme), then proceeded to head right into the vineyards. Didier drove us through a beautiful vista of steeply rolling hills covered in those golden leaves, with rocky outcroppings popping up at odd intervals, all lined by centuries-, if not often millennia-old, stone walls. God I love this part of the world. There really is something magical about this region, something timeless that just really stirs the soul.

Didier challenges me to a race up the hill
We visited a new plot that Didier had just bought in the Pouilly Fuissé appelation, angled so steeply that going up was a chore but coming down was an adventure. I swear, this thing must have been at a 45° slope! There, we were joined by his assistant winemaker David, who had helped out with this year’s harvest. After stints in New Zealand and several other wineries, David has settled in as Didier’s helper going forward. He’s really ambitious and eager to increase the quality of the wines, which is always a good thing.

Looking up the slope

Looking down the slope

Lost in a sea of Chardonnay
After driving around the perimeter of the Clos des Tournons , we came to the winery, which is basically an addition to the house’s garage. We began tasting the 2008s from tanks, and I was thrilled to see that this year's Clos des Tournons would be another success, with beautiful fruit backed up by almost stinging acidity and a lovely, rich mouthfeel. We also tasted the Pouilly Fuissé, which holds much promise as well. We made our way through all the wines, from Chardonnay to Pinot Noir as well as Gamay (the grape used in Beaujolais but used here to make red Macon, very rare). Quite nice if I may say so myself.

Didier pours from the tank
After the winery visit, we retreated to the tasting room, where some 2007s were opened for my perusal. I was pleased to see that Didier hasn’t lost his touch, his wines were just as beautiful as I recalled. Then, as his wife Cathérine announced that dinner would be ready soon, he poured me something else, something intriguing, something quite surprising. “This is for our aperitif,” he explained.

Now, I’m a sucker for Champagne, I just love the stuff. I am not a fan of Crémants or other bubbly wines, in general. So I was wary about this.

The wine he was pouring looked like Champagne, a golden liquid with surprisingly tiny, elegant bubbles, it smelled like a Blanc de Blancs, on the palate it was richer, with bracing acidity, yet it wasn’t Champagne: it was his Crémant de Bourgogne. I almost fell off my chair. This was stunning. This was amazing. This was unbelievably delicious.

Using the traditional Méthode Champenoise, Didier makes a sparkling wine from Chardonnay without adding back the liqueur d’expedition, or the base wine plus sugar that most sparkling makers add back to make the wine richer and balance its high acidity. In this case, he doesn’t add it back because, being further south than Champagne, his grapes achieve a higher level of ripeness: in other words, they don’t need the sugar, some of theirs survives the first fermentation.

The result is unbelievable, at least for a Crémant. This is something I’ll be happy to show to my clients very soon.

Dinner was a long, leisurely affair with Didier, Cathérine, their son and David. We laughed a lot and chatted about the upcoming elections (I swear the French were more obsessed with it than we were). Finally, I retired to my crappy motel and tried, unsuccessfully, to fall asleep.

I had an early morning TGV to catch: I was heading to Paris. Yay!

Next: A week in Paris.
Cheers!

The United States of America

2008-11-05T10:15:00.003-05:00

Note: I am taking a small break from reporting about my last trip to France to say a few words about this election.

I have never been prouder to be an American.

The election of Barack Obama to the Presidency is an amazing event. No matter who you voted for, no matter what you think of him as a person or as a politician, you have to admit that this is a singular, momentous occasion for this nation: an African-American man will be the 44th President of the United States. Whether you're happy or not that he won, you have to admire how far this country has come.

Do we still have racial problems? Absolutely. Is there still much work to be done? Absolutely. And of course let's not forget the economic mess our "Masters of the Universe" drove us into, or the wasteful war in Iraq and the forgotten war in Afghanistan. There's lots of things to fix after 8 years of incompetence and corruption.

But Barack Obama's election reminds us, and the world (which, let's face it, has been watching with baited breath) that the United States of America is not just a country but an idea and an ideal. We might have gotten horribly distracted from it for the past eight years, but this election tells us that the ideal survives and thrives. It is one of hope, freedom, and the absolute faith in a person's ability to thrive and rise to the top with hard work and dedication.

Whatever his policies and views, Barack Obama's victory shows that we as a nation are willing to give anyone a chance. No matter the color of their skin.

I have never been prouder to be an American.

Of course, to celebrate, I popped a French Champagne, but I do have to be faithful to part of my heritage, non?
Cheers!

One Day in Avignon

2008-10-30T15:59:00.004-04:00

I found myself in the ancient walled city of Avignon, in the Rhône Valley, where I was to meet up with one of my winemakers, Jean-Marie Popelin of Château Haut-Musiel, for lunch. I love this city, it’s beautiful, full of energy and history and winding, medieval streets. You really expect a knight on horseback to come clip-clopping by at any moment.

From 1309 to 1423 the Catholic Popes set up shop here due to infighting in Rome, building a massive Gothic fortification with huge, imposing walls that overlooks the whole city. Today it’s a tourist destination, but for nearly a century and a quarter it was the seat of a powerful regional state. This period in history is known as the Avignon Papacy, and more information can be found here: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Avignon_Papacy

The Popes' Palace
Anyway, I had no dealings with the Church, instead heading for a small wine bar for some sinful consumption. Jean-Marie met me at a lovely, tiny and modern place called Vinoe & Co, near Avignon’s main market, Les Halles. I loved their Seven Delicious Sins list, which you can see on their website in French but which I took the liberty of translating:

Pride of Cabernet
We have the pride of only drinking the greatest Cabs

The Gluttony of Riesling
Tart candy which hides a honeyed heart

The Envy of Chardonnay
We only want to wallow in its purest expressions

The Greed of Mourvèdre
For all the decanters in the world

The Wrath of Gamay
Gamay isn’t for the kids anymore

The Lust for Syrah
Like that for a black diamond

The Sloth of Grenache
Ever really feel like working after a great Grenache?

I perused the menu and was shocked: there were some seriously ambitious dishes here. And when I saw the wine list, I nearly fell over. There were many highly-regarded wines at ridiculous prices (and I am taking into account the exchange rate).

Now, I like Jean-Marie. He’s young, ambitious, really proud that his wines are making an entrance into NYC and New Jersey, and best of all, like me, a bon vivant. He took the wine list from my hands without asking (a cardinal sin if ever there was one) and flipped through a few pages, finally stopping, looking up with a wicked little smile, and asking “Do you like Châteauneuf?” Do I? Hell yeah! “I love the classical ones like Clos des Papes,” I responded, to which he laughed. “I was going to suggest that!” What can I say, great minds think alike.

The 1998 Clos des Papes Châteauneuf des Papes was poured right from the cellar, still cool. Quite nice at first, this really came out of its shell with some air, putting on weight and gaining confidence in itself, big and fruity and meaty yet balanced, growing before our very palates and becoming slightly darker in color. It went amazingly well with my excellent main dish, braised pork cheeks on a bed of pasta. Clearly, this business is not for those faint of palate or vegetarian by nature…

We had a nice time discussing business, after which I was off to a few more meetings. But once Jean-Marie found I would be alone for dinner, he insisted on joining me at a local wine bar with a nice, eclectic list and some great food.

We met up at AOC (no website that I could find, sorry) that night at 8:30pm, and ended up chatting and talking with the owners and other folks until the wee hours of the morning. We tasted some great wines but I don’t recall the names, and we ate some great, light food (like paté, rillettes, saucisson, lots and lots more saucissons of different types, and of course tons of cheese). I can seriously recommend this place, off a small pedestrian street in the heart of Avignon. The welcome was warm, the décor unpretentious, and I am ready to go back. Right now.

Vinoe & Co
http://www.vinoe-co.com/
31 RUE SAINT JEAN LE VIEUX,
84000 AVIGNON
Tel. 04 90 86 31 29

AOC Wine Bar
5, Rue Tremoulet,
84000 Avignon
Tel : 04 90 25 21 04 - Fax : 04 90 25 21 04

Next: One night in Macon.
Cheers!