I have now been to the beach a total of 4 days this summer – all of which have been during the month of August. So yes. It’s official! Summer weather has finally arrived here in New England. And I just can’t help myself! I am happily sipping from all categories of wine: red, white and… rosé!

It’s time to make hay while the sun shines, and try something uniquely delicious and satisfying at the end of a sticky, summer day. Head over to Wicked Local to check out which Wicked August Wines you might just want to give a s-whirl!

Have you had the pleasure of tasting any of these offerings? What are your tasting notes?

Last weekend my “Supper Swap” group met again for the first time in a while. (We try to meet at least quarterly, picking a theme to inspire our respective culinary adventures for the night and otherwise help us break out of any cooking ruts we may have fallen into.) As we sat around the table discussing our “Summer-is-coming” dishes and what changes we would make to the recipes, I realized I have gotten away from discussing food more specifically in relation to wine on the Pour Favor blog.  I’ve been talking wine first, then food. But most of the time we work the other way around, right? You pick your meal or what you are going to chef, and then select a bottle to accompany it.

Food is important.

I mean, yeah, there is the whole sustenance factor, lol. But in seriousness, wine is meant to be enjoyed with food. There are certainly some that excel on their own; but for the most part winemakers hope their wares grace your table and, ideally, take on a whole new meaning when matched with a wonderful meal.

This isn’t to say we should always strive for the perfect pairing. Nonsense! Rather, we should be mindful that the components which make a wine a wine – fruit, acidity and tannin – are elements that, by nature, are designed for food. On that note, let’s start talking about the union of food and wine over the next few weeks, shall we?

Supper Swap dish #1:  Watermelon, mint salad.

Apparently this dish was inspired by the Mustard Seed restaurant out in Davis, CA. Now their (online) recipe calls for cucumber, watermelon, mint and feta – but my friend recalled it with red onion, watermelon, mint and feta. Either which way you slice it, this salad was terrific. A true summer crowd pleaser. Fresh, healthy and delicious. And there is literally nothing more to it than dicing up the ingredients and tossing them together.

What wine would pair? This dish is incredibly versatile. But my instinct is to go for a terrific, DRY, rose – still OR sparkling! Rose tends to have terrific strawberry, raspberry or watermelon characteristics. One with more minerality (typically French offerings from areas such as Provence) or a more spice-nuanced flavor profile would be best because of the mint, bite of onion and slight richness to the feta.  You can certainly try one with more fruit-forward flavors.  But the watermelon on its own is so delicious, I’d want something nuanced in other ways to draw out it’s more subtle, secondary (et. al.) flavors.

White varietals to consider would be Spanish Albarino or Txakoli or lesser known/sought French offerings like Muscadet, Gros Manseng and Picpoul.  Sauvignon Blanc might be an easier grab-and-go choice that would certainly work.  Simply think crisp, refreshing, minerality.

Prefer red? Try a fruity, ligher-styled, dry summer red. You don’t want to upstage the juicy watermelon on your plate!

What wine(s) would you pick for this dish?

Surely my regular readers would agree I am not strictly a “purist” when it comes to wine innovation – whether it is using screwcaps or applying other modern winemaking techniques if/when it is warranted.  My jaw dropped, however, when I read an article this week detailing the EU’s desire to allow members to mix red and white wines to create rose (apologies for the lack of accent on the “e” throughout this post).

Rose is a tremendously delicious dry wine which we Americans (and others globally) have more or less just “discovered”. Sales have been booming for the last several years. Finally the myth of rose tasting sweet like your Grand/Mother’s white Zin(fandel) has been revealed! Meanwhile, consumers are going bonkers as they discover how many different styles there are; there is something for everyone and every dish.

Provence, France is arguably the rose capital of the world. Whenever I think of sitting on the shores of the Mediterranean at a little cafe, I transport myself to Provence – and I am sipping rose. The folks there have worked particularly hard over the years to debunk the myth of cotton-candy sweet pink, plonk wines and created more awareness and appreciation for these delightful wines. In my mind at least, I think of it as a local effort to give these wines the international appreciation (or distinction?) of say, Champagne.

If the EU allows a broader definition of rose such that red and white wines are mixed rather than applying the traditional method of pressing the juice from red grapes, I fear the ‘cheapening’ of this lovely libation. Provencial rose (and other areas that use this traditional, sanctioned technique) will lose their prestige as the wines lose their vibrancy. And so today my question is:

For what real benefit is the EU doing this? Where is the market research that backs up this move?

‘Tis the season to be merry! And sometimes merriment is best facilitated by getting your guests in the mood for – in the immortal words of Seinfeld writers – Festivus! Last weekend I had the pleasure of pouring a few holiday libations for just such a purpose at a public tasting event. (I had what happens to be my favorite Champagne Rose on hand, Lillet and two different Ports on offer; oh yes, I was captain of the Fun Team!)

Much to my amusement, the Lillet was the fan favorite. In part this was because it’s an aperitif that’s been around since dirt bringing back memories for many, and in part it’s because it’s just so interesting. Leave it to a monk, Father Kermann, to “invent” it back in the late 1800′s in Pondesac, Bordeaux. Fermann was also a doctor/mixologist, creating elixirs and fortifiers using ingredients like quinine. Enter the burgeoning region of Bordeaux where crazy ingredients like star anise, brandy, cane sugar, et. al. were then descending from all over the world (China, Gascony, West Indies….) and our friend Fr. Kermann is one happy camper! From this epicenter of creativity and fine ingredients came Lillet.

But let’s back up for a second… An aperitif is an alcoholic beverage meant to begin a meal. Literally, it gets consumers in the mood for food by stimulating the appetite. For me it’s also one of those ‘balms’ I’ve mentioned of late that has a welcome touch of alcohol to take the edge off potentially uncomfortable social situations, or to otherwise just get people in the spirit of the occasion (pun intended). It also isn’t so strong in taste it will kill the next libation’s flavors (e.g. wine with the meal).

On the Lillet bottle it reads: “Since 1872″. Apparently there is no official recipe they use to make it year after year, instead relying on each cuvee to dictate the outcome. And apparently in 1985 they revamped their overall approach to appeal to modern-day consumers. Once much more bitter and slightly more sweet in flavor, today the aperitif offers a tremendously floral bouquet with hints of apricots and honey – it reminds me (and others) of late harvest wines. From there it delivers a surprising minerality, and notes of slightly bitter orange peel and apricots. (Technically speaking, it is made from the white wine Bordeaux grapes Semillon and Sauvignon Blanc (85%) and “fruit liquors” (15%). It is aged for 10 months (on average) in oak barrels.) I encouraged every person who approached my table to simply try it for themselves – and while each had their own reaction, nearly all was pleasantly surprised by it and certainly excited to add it to their holiday party shopping cart.

Which apertif do you enjoy during the holidays? Have you tried Lillet – whether on ice, with a twist, a’la James Bond or otherwise?

You are sitting at a little table in Provence. You have found a quaint cafe, where a small bowl of salted almonds is at the ready before you even have a chance to ask for a glass of water or rose to quench your thirst on a hot day. You quickly find you and your partner are nibbling on local fare – the cafe’s own tapenade and a bit of bread seemed like a good starting place – while you wait for your Nicoise salad to arrive. The St. Andre de Figuerire Vielles Vines rose is taking the edge off, too. Ahh… not too shabby. No, better than shabby. “Now, THIS is summer luv’n”, you think!

Your journal reflects the experience perfectly – even the name of the wine you were drinking… is it possible to have such sensual, tasty goodness at your fingertips again? Once home, you call your local shop and discover they – somewhat shockingly – can get the St. Andre rose you had at that little cafe. Success! The wine buyer agrees to purchase a case for you, just in time to spend the remaining weeks of the summer with your feet up on your own porch patio after a long, hard day back in the daily grind, drinking through that lovely case. And it’s guilt-free drinking too, as you know the 2007 rose won’t last ’til next year – and who knows what next year’s batch will bring?! No need to save it – you’re more than willing to dive right on in.

A couple of weeks later you pick up your much-anticipated case. You quickly return home to prepare a bouillabaisse and whip together a little appetizer of pan bagna so you and your honey can snack a bit sipping on your St. Andre and reminiscing about Provence before you dive into the main course. The wine is already chilled and you pour two glasses enthusiastically. The evening is warm, the bugs aren’t biting and the tapenade is one of your best concoctions yet. Plus, you’ve both had fairly easy workdays and even made it to the gym.

The wine – and moment – is pretty fabulous; and yet somehow it isn’t quite as mind-blowing as what you had remembered. What the !@#?$???

The last time I had a wine I loved during a memorable occasion was the last game of the 2007 (Boston Red Sox) World Series. We were drinking the Winner’s Tank Shiraz. I’ll never forget it. First, it was darn good wine that paired well with our homemade pizza; and second, we won (again)!! And yet I haven’t been able to pick up that bottle of Shiraz again. I’m afraid it just won’t be quite the same…

When’s the last time you savored a bottle and dared to try it again, or couldn’t quite bring yourself to do so? For all of you hanging out on the Pour Favor blog sidelines, this is your moment to “dish”!