Tuesday, February 10, 2015

At Long Last…Pinot Noir

     It may seem odd to some that pinot noir is scarcely mentioned in this blog. Contrary to what this may lead my readers to believe, I am an ardent fan of this luscious wine. Unfortunately, pinots from Burgundy have become far too expensive for my casual consumption. Adding to my dismay with the high cost of wines from Burgundy is that on those rare occasions when I did spend as much fifty dollars for a bottle, I was bitterly disappointed. My assumption is that our retailers are either marking up wines from Burgundy excessively, due to the wine region’s high regard amongst wine lovers or we are not importing the best that Burgundy has to offer.  Regardless of the reasons behind the high prices and poor quality, I resolved to stop wasting my money any further.


     Still, the longing for the lush taste sensation of pinot noir lingered on as a fickle memory taunting me. Unwilling to give up entirely on what I consider the noblest of all grapes, I turned my attentions to domestic producers. Unfortunately, nearly all of the American pinots I tried left an unpleasant bitter finish that is contrary to what I expect from any pinot noir.

     There is one exception to this and I would be remiss not to mention it. Costa De Oro in Santa Barbara California makes a luscious pinot noir that I tasted several years ago while visiting numerous wineries in the central coast wine region of California. Regrettably, their distribution is very limited outside of California and as a result I have not mentioned their wine before. Except for Costa De Oro, I have never found a pinot noir worth writing about—until now.

      Last month, while visiting the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston I decided to try a glass of pinot noir in one of their cafes. To my utter delight it was wonderful!  Every sip exactly as I remembered pinot noir to be—medium bodied with luscious, fruity raspberry acids and soft tannins combining to produce a velvety smooth finish. I was once again enamored with one of my favorite wines—pinot noir.  The producer of this little gem is Sea Glass Wines. The grapes are grown in their vineyards in Santa Barbara California and the wine itself is produced in their winery in Monterrey. Adding to my appreciation for the Sea Glass pinot noir is an even more agreeable price, $9.99 at Standard Liquors on Eddy Street in Providence, Rhode Island.

      Once again, I am now able to savor the lush taste sensations of pinot noir with  roast turkey, duck and other fowls as well as a variety of beef dishes such as beef stew, pot roast, meat loaf and more.  Thank you Sea Glass!


Image result for Sea Glass pinot noir wine


Friday, June 20, 2014

Beware the Name Game - Caveat Emptor!

     One of my favorite anecdotes about wine is that the French wine industry advanced to its lofty world class status in large part due to the British thirst for wine. The British are notorious for their wine consumption and French winemakers across the English Channel enthusiastically sought to quench their thirst for wine as early as the twelfth century.  To what extent this trade with Britain actually helped shape the French wine industry today, I am not certain. Nevertheless, the logical connection between the British propensity for wine and French winemakers willingness to satisfy this proclivity has always appealed to me. As a result of my fondness for this narrative, I have repeated the story many times as one explanation for how and why the French developed their famed wine industry and their export mentality.

     One of the key components to building their reputation as a fine wine producing nation are the strict laws of AOC (Appellation Origin Control) which govern the viticulture and viniculture of each wine producing region. These laws also underpin what is referred to as France’s export mentality. This is where France’s early exporting of wine to England comes into play. In the early stages of their wine industry French winemakers determined that in order to protect the reputation of French wine from some unscrupulous winemakers they would embrace a simple philosophy; when anyone buys a bottle of French wine anywhere in the world they are assured of a unswerving level of quality and a taste sensation that is indicative of its wine producing region. Hence a series of rules and regulations were put in place over many years insuring the quality of French wine. Such laws prevented some French winemakers from cutting corners in favor of profits over quality which would have ultimately tarnished the reputation of all French wine.

     Knowing my keen interest in the connection between French wine and the British, my friend and wine-muse Alex Nacar recently emailed me links to articles regarding French wine and British Sommeliers published in The Telegraph, a London newspaper.  From these articles I hoped to glimpse into present-day British wine service, uncover some new wines to try and learn from Sommeliers across the pond which French wines are currently in vogue in England today.  The articles were entertaining with such snappy phrases as “wine waiter” for Sommelier and “off-piste” for going astray and other unique phrases that only the British can get away with.  There was one point though that just went against the grain; the term declassified Chateauneuf du Pape, describing a Côte du Rhone. My immediate reaction was, no, not so!  The mere phrase grated on my sensibilities as if someone was running their fingernails across a blackboard. Not true! I muttered to no one.  At that point I donned my deer stalker cap, ala Sherlock Holmes and declared to the same invisible audience.  “The game is afoot Watson!” My curiosity was piqued.  Have I been missing out on an exceptional wine value from one of my favorite French wine producing regions, the Rhone Valley, which is also the geographical home to both Cote du Rhone and Chateauneuf du Pape?  Or, was this just another erroneous marketing term invented to help sell wine to an unsuspecting public? The answer quickly revealed itself.

      While searching the internet for a definition of declassified Chateauneuf du Pape I discovered other websites using the very same term describing various Côte du Rhones. Here is an excerpt from one of the websites: 
“This is a true declassified Chateauneuf-du-Pape.  For definition’s sake, appellation contrôlée rules for wine in France maintain that only a certain volume of wine can be produced each year with a specific label.  Any excess production must be sold under a broader appellation (region/area) or as “declassified wine”, therefore at a lower price.  The quiet understanding of “declassified” is that we are drinking wine that has been made with the same care and expertise from the same area, as in this case the big shot Chateauneuf-du-Pape.  Bottom line ... with juice such as this you’re getting a lot of bang for your buck!”

     This definition implies that a vineyard in Chateauneuf du Pape can grow as many grapes as it cares to but is limited to the amount of wine it can bottle under the label bearing the AOC of Chateauneuf du Pape. This is simply not accurate! According to the Chateauneuf du Pape website hosted by the Fédération des syndicats des producteurs de Châteauneuf-du-Pape (see link below) a vineyard is limited to the number of vines it can plant per hectare (2.47acres) not how much wine it can bottle.  This is perfectly logical and in keeping with the rational for establishing AOC standards. In this particular instance, limiting the amount of vines planted per hectare creates enough space for the vine’s roots to spread out and prosper without competing for nature’s nutrients and water from neighboring vines; thereby growing plump and juicy grapes. There is no such limit on how much wine can be bottled under the label of Chateauneuf du Pape.  The restriction is how many vines can be planted per hectare.  Contrary to what the sellers of “declassified Chateauneuf du Pape” would have us believe, a wine producer in the appellation of Chateauneuf du Pape can make and sell as much wine as they care to depending on how many hectares of land they can plant.

     There may very well be good reasons why a vineyard in Chateauneuf du Paper would declassify their wine as a Côte du Rhone but it is not because there is a limit to how many bottles of Chateauneuf du Pape they can sell bearing that AOC designation.  One answer may be that a particular vintage does not live up to the high standards of grapes for wine from Chateauneuf du Pape or since wine from Chateauneuf du Pape can consist of many different grapes (up to thirteen) they may have an excess of one or more different grapes varieties from a good vintage that can still be used to make wine under the broader AOC of Côte du Rhone by using a different blend of grapes.  Either reason makes perfect sense. Thus, by declassifying the wine as Côte du Rhone, the vineyard owner is not tarnishing the reputation of the Chateauneuf du Pape appellation with grapes from an inferior vintage or, is now able to use the different leftover grapes from a good vintage to make a Côte du Rhone.  For the consumer, these Côte du Rhones may be a perfectly good wine, even a very good wine, just not worthy of bearing the label or the price tag of Chateauneuf du Pape.

      There are many variables in deciding on whether to purchase a very good Côte du Rhone or a more expensive bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape. An erroneous definition of declassified Chateauneuf du Pape only serves to muddy the waters for any wine enthusiast.

Caveat emptor!


Except from the Chateauneuf du Pape Website: The vineyard is obliged to have a very low density of plantation: 3,000 to 3,500 vines per hectare. In the last century this was the distance required for the horses to cross the vines. Nowadays it is a guarantee of quality because each vine has enough space to flourish in the best conditions. 



Saturday, February 1, 2014

Speaking of Wine…in a Box

This declaration will not come as a surprise to anyone familiar with my views on wine—I am a big fan of boxed wines.  As someone who enjoys having wine with his meals on a daily basis, boxed wines are perfect.  They are unpretentious, young and fruity wines; reminiscent of the house wines I have enjoyed in France referred to as pichets and the carafes of house wine I quaffed with relish in Spain, Italy and other European countries. 

On a practical note, boxed wines are also very affordable.  A standard three litre box of wine is equivalent to four 750 ml bottles of wine, which on a per bottle basis usually cost about five dollars a bottle. Additionally, an “opened” box of wine can last for over four weeks without any noticeable taste degradation.  All of which make it a perfect choice to have at home whenever the spirit moves us (no pun intended).

My most recent box wine find is a vinho tinto (red wine) from Portugal, produced by Quinta do Figo.   This palate-pleasing wine is aged in oak barriques (barrels), providing ample body for hearty dishes, with mild tannins and moderate acids plus inviting hints of black raspberry and dried prune taste sensations.  The price for this three litre box of wine is just $16.00 which equates to only $4.00 a bottle!

Wine lovers who are not familiar with the quality of the wine that awaits them in a box will discover an excellent example of a good wine that just happens to be in a box.  My fellow box wine enthusiasts will join me in placing this offering from Portugal on the top of our list of favorite box wines. 

Tuesday, December 31, 2013

The Wine Buying Game of Chance - Pay Your Money and Take Your Chances

     Selecting a bottle of wine is similar to buying a stock listed on the stock exchange, or picking the number where the circulating little ball will land on the wheel in roulette or betting on the last draw in a game of stud poker—it is always a gamble. There are no magical formulas or sure-fire rules in any of these “games” of chance to guarantee the right choice. The best we can do in any of these situations is make an educated guess or trust our instincts and hope for the best or to paraphrase an old poker adage, you pay your money and take your chances.

     This was the precarious situation I found myself in the other night when I went to buy a bottle of wine to top off a fun-filled day of exploration at the Museum of Fine Arts in Boston. In my mind there was no margin for error.  Such a pleasant day deserved a bottle of wine that I knew would not disappoint. Much to my chagrin all of my usual favorites were sold out and now I faced the tenuous task of buying a bottle of wine we never had before.  At first I was attracted to a bottle of Spanish Rioja labeled Estate Grown. Past experiences though have taught me that I usually have more success with wines that have been aged more than those that are estate grown. This does not only apply to wines from Rioja but with most wines in general.  With today’s modern wine making techniques, barrel aging seems to be more important than terroir in determining quality; a concept that has taken me time to embrace.

     My next possible choice was a wine from Cahors; one of my favorite, lesser known wine producing regions in France.  Although I usually enjoy wine from Cahors the label warned me that this wine might not be what I would expect from this wine producing region.  Prominently displayed on the front label were the words Malbec and Merlot below the producer’s name.  With the exception of the wine from Alsace, French wine labels normally state only the producer and wine producing region of origin (terroir), not the grapes that the wine is made from.  Wine label’s emphasizing the grapes the wine is made from is a practice of new world producers, such as the United States. To prominently display the names of the grapes on the label, as this wine did, indicates that this wine was made for the export market, not for domestic consumption.  As such, this wine will not have the “style” that I expect from a French wine made for the French consumer. Using this rationale as my guide I rejected this bottle of wine too.

 Undaunted in my quest for just the right wine and now with the taste of a Spanish wine firmly affixed in my mind, I returned to the Spanish wine section.  I ruled out a bottle of wine from Catalunya made from Tempranillo and Garnacha as possibly not right because of the inclusion of Garnacha, a grape I usually associate with lighter bodied Spanish rosé wines. As luck would have it, on the shelf below the wine from Catalunya stood a bottle of wine from Rioja with the sought after word Crianza on the label; which according to Spanish law means that this wine must be aged for a minimum of two years, one of which is in oak.

     My patience and rational was immediately rewarded when I opened this 2009, bottle of wine from Rioja, produced by Montecillo. On the nose the aromatic effects of wood aging were pleasantly noticeable combined with tantalizing whiffs of black cherries. Our palates were equally entertained by a sumptuous, full bodied wine with notes of black cherry that “opened up” to luscious black cherries coated in dark chocolate. All this for $11.99! 


     It would nice to say that all of my mental machinations, rationalizations and the likes always lead to such a pleasurable conclusion, sadly this is not true. There are times, in spite of all my best efforts and careful considerations that I have been terribly disappointed by wines whose labels have all the rights words but the wine itself does not have the expected taste sensations deduced from the label.  In this one brief shining moment though, I paid my money and I was duly rewarded with a very enjoyable bottle of wine.