We be jamm'n

Last Saturday night I visited with friends in Providence as part of a larger weekend of festivities featuring - dum, da, dee, dum! - attending the Newport Folk Festival together on Sunday. Naturally I would bring some wine for dinner. My best friend has an affection for Spanish reds; she and her husband are also fabulously hyper-local, urban farmers, so something from a sustainable or organic producer would be bonus. While I find it is always good to have some kind of direction, this time I was actually at a loss about what would fit my general criteria. And then, just in the nick of time, last Friday afternoon my colleague and I happened to uncork the Honoro Vera Monastrell to evaluate it. Dan had discovered this new project (made from Organic grapes and hailing from Jumilla, Spain!)  from the folks at esteemed producer Juan Gil while I was away at Pinot Camp; it had just arrived on the premises, so he was particularly excited about it - and eager for me to give it a taste. I was excited that he was excited. It doesn't happen like that everyday.

Made from 100% Monastrell grapes, the wine was opulent with succulent black plum, boysenberry and bramble fruit. It stopped me in my tracks. It was as juicy as it was accented with turned black soil, mushroomy earth and spice. Its silky smooth texture (my ultimate vinous pleasure) prompted an immediate high-five to Dan for "finding" it.

Over the weekend my friends were also "Wow'd". (Gotta love when you hit the nail on the head.)

Then, the next day while we were at the Festival grooving to the sound of Brown Bird, my work caught up with me in the best possible way: I nudged my BFF, smiled and said I know I'm a wine nerd, but these guys sound like last night's wine - his voice is rich, seductively smooth and thrilling; hers is the gorgeous, clean-cut note of acidity that brings it on home.

Heads bobbing, we wished we had another glass in hand.

Pairing: Garliky chopped sauteed kale and green beans; Grill-charred Salmon (with grilled sausage accompaniment optional)

Next Episode of "What She's Drinking"

I realized I haven't posted in ages about what I've been sipping on. The last several months, it's felt a bit like a marathon - not of exorbitant consumption, per se, but of keeping up with the many new vintages hitting shelves this summer. Yes, my colleague and I (largely) enjoy  our "Homework", which consists of bring home new finds or new vintages of old favorites to 'check in' on a particular wine and perhaps most important, have it in the comfort of our own homes, with friends/family (or sometimes solo)  and 9 out of 10 times, with food. Sure, you can taste 60+ wines per week, but there's something to be said for getting a little bit of a reality check, or perspective on what the average wine consumer experiences. Where to begin? Naturally we'll start with rose, since that's what I'm most inclined to take home right at the moment. I don't know what it is, but as soon as it gets warm all I want is a good rose. And now it is H-O-T.

As you may recall from my late Spring post, fresh out of the gates, things were looking a bit unsettled in rose land; wines had not yet come into their own.

But now they are singING!

I'm still a huge fan of Chateau Larroque, the Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot blend I last wrote about. Contending alongside it for my everyday rose-sipping affections is... Le Fraghe "Rodon" Bardolino Chiaretto rose. Now here's something equally unique (perhaps why there are so many apparent 'names' on the bottle). Bardolino by definition connotes a light styled Italian red, one you might chill. Ok, it's hot outside. Tell me more! The grapes in this lively rose (not that you can tell from the label, ironically) are Rondinella and Corvina - two of the flagship varietals that make up the bold Veneto wine Valpolicella. The grapes see about 6 hours on the skin, giving it a dark rose/light light red wine color. The finished wine actually matures on the lees in stainless steel tanks. This process give it a richer texture but also a zesty punch. I love it for it's uber-dry, quenching qualities - and the fact that there is a surprising, but welcome bit of spice on the finish! I think it is that little extra kick that sets it apart from other roses (particularly the kind I typically gravitate towards, those from Provence).

It's definitely been a fun summer so far! If you want to spend a few extra bones and can get your hands on any, keep an eye out for another vierdo rose - one from County Line in Anderson Valley. This bold wine is a 100% Pinot Noir offering.

What are you drinking at the moment?

Oregon Pinot Camp (OPC) 2011

"On the road again... Just can't wait 'til I get on the road again..." Oh, wait. I'm back! More or less just back from Oregon Pinot Camp 2011, a select, annual, trade, invite-only conference out in the Willamette Valley. That's (said) Willamette, damn it! and about an hour south of Portland, Oregon, where (arguably) the country's finest Pinot Noir wines are made. The goal of the conference? To bring together about 250 representatives of the restaurant and retail wine biz to learn more about the area and why great Pinot Noir is made there. They also (smartly) provide a great opportunity to explore "The Great American Whites", Oregon style, which may go more routinely overlooked, simply because Pinot Noir is the young region's claim to fame. I last visited the region in 2005 and was thrilled to have the 'excuse' to go back and delve in further to this great wine producing region.

My personal adventure began a bit further south of the Willamette  - 5+ hours south, though still in Oregon - at Foris Vineyards. Foris invited me and 11 others from across the country to come in advance of Camp and explore what southern Oregon wine country has to offer. I've worked with Foris' wines in the past (and in particular their Muscat frizzante) and was happy to have the chance to meet the owners, Ted and his wife Terri, winemaker Bryan and his sidekick Steve and the rest of the gang. They are salt of the earth people, with tremendous vision; I was lucky to start my trip with them and whet my whistle and appetite for Rogue Valley wines!

The next morning we were up bright and early to travel to Camp. We enjoyed a late "lunch" on Willamette Chardonnay and Crab, hosted at Argyle and further attended by folks like Chahalem, Ponzi, and Domaine Drouhin Oregon. What a way to begin! Soon enough we were checked in to our hotel and being shuttled (in yellow school buses) to the opening "games". All 50 participating OPC 2011 wineries - an elite bunch - offered two wines to introduce campers to their latest releases while we 'snacked' on incredibly fresh and satisfying local fare. (This general theme happily presented itself throughout the trip.)

The next two days were a whirlwind of tasting, sharing, comparing and learning - each ending with a large-format tasting reception and dinner (dancing optional). I tromped through soil pits at Penner Ash, discovered the "multiple personalities of Pinot Noir" at Domain Drouhin Oregon with winemaker-led, blind tasting workshops that delved into questions of vintage variation and the range of styles that exist, learned more about biodynamics/organics, and farming for quality at Elk Cove and enjoyed a panel discussion about Oregon whites at Torii Mor.Camp was interactive bliss.

Long, love story short my affair with Oregon wines will continue. And in the coming months in particular, it will continue with Anne Amie (best in show, best QPR) specifically, but also as I seek out and enjoy the area's 2010 whites that are coming to market now. They are spectacular, consistently delicious, vibrant, edgy, expressive wines - from Riesling to Pinot Blanc to Pinot Gris (Chard still hasn't quite won me over wholeheartedly, though Chehalem is a strong exception). These whites will certainly tide me over this summer and early fall as the immature 2009 Pinot Noirs enter the market; these wines are NOT yet at their best and will continue to evolve into the best versions of themselves in the years to come. I encourage you to wait with me - and enjoy as many 2007s as you can find in the meantime. Like good Burgundy, these wines will be worth the wait!

A big thanks to all of the OPC organizers and the many attendees, new friends, who made the experience so memorable.

"Greek-ing" out

It's not often I repost an entire post anymore because I've streamlined my efforts in the last year. But this piece from Hungrily Ever After blogger/Pour Favor staffer Rebeccah M. is so tasty - and so seasonally topical - I can't resist. Check it out! Geeking Out with Greeks

How often do you take home a Greek?

is there such a thing as the "perfect" wine?

I never really thought there was such a thing as a "perfect" wine. Sure, there are different 'categories' of wine consumption, from the nature/scale of an event in terms of fanciness, food (or not) involved, etc. to that 1 magical bottle that lives forever in your mind. But last weekend I truly think I happened upon a white wine that is a realistic kind of perfect - for any occasion, any time of year, with any group of friends, with food or without. Casale del Giglio's 2009 "Satrico" hails from Lazio, Italy. It is an expertly crafted white blend of equal parts Chardonnay (roundness, soft edges, fleshiness - plus light honeydew melon), Sauvignon Blanc (zip and lift at the hand of terrific citrus fruit flavors and light grassy notes) and Trebbiano (which adds mouthwatering, food friendly acidity and crushed hazelnut nuance).

What made this wine "perfect" to me?

It's approachability - anyone who enjoys wine will find something about this wine that excites them; it's intriguing because it is complex, but it is so well integrated you don't get bogged down thinking about what makes you happy to just sip it. It's texture is also noteworthy - it has a silky entry and a zippy finish.

It's versatility - you can drink this wine all on its own or have it with just about any kind of food (even if you're having steak, I'm willing to bet the corn on the cob and salad accompaniments, for example, would bring the whole meal together while sipping this wine).

It's Italian-ness drives the wine home - so subtle in this particular wine, I love that little bit of satisfying nuttiness that sneaks in there and makes you smile when you realize it's there.

Long story short, I have a feeling I'm going to be playing favorites this summer, even though I don't officially have any...

Do you believe in the perfect wine?

the (optimal) wine experience

I often write about wines specifically, sometimes peppering in posts about a particular restaurant that's caught my attention. Individually these are just a couple of 'tools' you can put in your belt on the quest for a fuller wine experience. Because wine, in fact, is all about the experience - who you are with, how your drink of choice pairs with a snack or meal of choice, ambience, service, etc. Any given wine experience may have any one or more of these various components. It is the intersection of parts that creates the bigger picture, hopefully of just plain old fun or (better yet) memorable elation. In my experience, these Moments are not something you can plan. This week I had the great pleasure of joining a local wine colleague at dinner with Marchesi di Barolo's Anna Abbona. Our destination? Somerville's tucked away 'hot spot' Journeyman. I had yet to embark for Journeyman - not for lack of trying (note: they are closed on Tuesdays).  The praise has remained outstanding among my colleagues and so I was all the happier to have the 'excuse' to visit. To say it didn't disappoint is not quite accurate. To say it Exceeded Expectations is closer to the truth: artisanal; attention to detail; hospitality; fresh; inspired; inventive. These are just a few words that Chef/Owners Diana and Tse Wei are beginning to redefine; the bar has been reset - so high in fact, I wonder if someone can top them. "Camberville"  is where it's at.

Journeyman set the stage for an exceptional experience, doing their part (beyond the exceptional fare) by making very clever "beverage" pairings (with Sutton Cellar's aperitif and Cisco Brewing Company's Grey Lady mixed in to the fun of their wine pairing roster). However, meeting the captivating, bright (and also beautiful) Anna was truly a treat. This is a woman who is a crucial part of an elite, fifth generation wine making family in one of the world's most important wine regions: Piedmont. I could wax poetic about her stunning wines (the 2007 Ruvei Barbera d'Alba and 2004 Cannubi Barolo made their presence known during dinner) as their sultry femininity, depth of character, expression of terroir and structure were enough to stop all conversation in its tracks. But I have to say it was her salt-of-the earth nature, openness about her experiences traveling, her insights about emerging wine markets and the focus Marchesi di Barolo will continue to maintain -  amidst ample laughter, her mutual banter and appreciation for the larger Journeyman experience and general frivolity that marked the evening tops in my books.

Indeed, I will happily return to Journeyman, though yes, this particular outing will remain on my Top 10 Boston Evenings for much time to come and it is likely it will never be unseated.

Among the grey-ist of Springs, it is now summer in my book! Thank you Anna. Thank you Diane and Tse Wei. Thank you Kathryn.

Rose season is upon us!

We've had uncharacteristically balmy and warm temps in Boston this week, and with May just around the corner, it's not quite premature to talk about rose wines. Or is it? You know from previous posts of mine on the topic that rose is that special pink wine that is irrefutably dry. It is also something that is released early each Spring in order to be served fresh off the presses, if you will, and keep us refreshed during the warm months of the year. There is great anticipation each year when 'rose season' will begin, a sort of unofficial statement of warmer days to come.

For better or worse - not enough data points are in yet to be sure - the last few years we've noticed a trend whereby producers, importers and wholesalers seem to be in ka-hoots (sp?) to get the first jump on rose season. Last year's (2009) roses from France (Provence being the most famous production area) offered a crisp punch, a happy marriage of minerality and ample fruit, which seemed in never-ending supply. We were grateful. Just the way we like it!

This year's batch, the 2010's, seem a bit lackluster as yet. They aren't bad wines by any stretch of the imagination. But coming on the heels of such a lovely 2009 vintage, it's hard to get as excited at the moment. We can't help wonder if our experience thus far with Provencial rose (the main disappointment) is that the wines are being released TOO early. It's possible the wines just need to settle in, get acclimated and integrated, to really deliver. But we won't know just yet.

In the meantime, if  like me you are happy for the warmer days and want to scratch the rose itch, I recommend giving Provence a little time and trying other areas. Right now I'm digging a terrific rose from Bordeaux (you almost never see rose coming from this appellation) that is a blend of two 'bigger' grapes, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot; it is from Chateau Larroque. Next up is a new arrival VERY few were lucky to get their hands on this year. It is a rose of Pinot Noir from the Willamette Valley's Anne Amie made in the saignee method and aged ever so briefly in wood, which gives it a richer mouthfeel. Massachusetts was the only state outside of Oregon to get an ever-so-small allocation of 15 cases. Grab a couple of bottles now to get you over the Provencial hump!

Are you ready for rose season? Found any new favorites?

Priorat Travels Continue: Clos Figueras

This post was written while I was on the road - Day 2 - in Spain two weeks ago. Now, where was I? Ah, yes... Leaving the car in its ‘hiding place’ and deciding to walk all of 5 minutes from my hotel to my hosts at Clos Figueres earlier this morning, I am happy to be in a quiet town where the only obstacles in my path are not even dog poop (Barcelona), but mama gatos protecting their kittens as I, an unexpected intruder, walk past. I guess on the directionals, hoping my inner compass will guide me to my destination. Luckily, it does.

At Clos Figueres I find Jaume, winemaker extraordinare, who has been at the winery for three years. We speak largely in Espanol, me understanding mucho, pero hablando muy mal. I learn that they use three different fermentation vats – stainless, fiberglass, and barrels. Each has their call of duty, depending whether the intended wine is for a more approachable, fruit forward offering that lends an ‘introduction’ to consumers, or the more complex wines for which the Priorat is famous.

I had hoped to video tape my time at Clos Figueres with the young expert winemaker/Master Sommelier Jaume, and Miguel, the wine manager. But our conversation was largely in animated spanglish; they both nodded enthusiastically at my very rusty Spanish and, thankfully, my Spanish training meant I could understand nearly all of what they were communicating. Was I romanced? Absolutely. Am I always romanced by the Priorat? No. It is historically a region that I quite love, but my love/hate price-point/value rationalism keeps things real.

Clos Figueres, like many of their elite neighbors, produces wine meant to age. Of course, they produce a wine that is more ‘accessible’ or fruit forward, knowing that many do not have the patience or wallet size these wines demand. They also produce a gorgeous white blend (Font de la Figueres) that is largely Viognier – a varietal that was mistakenly sent to proprietor Christopher Cannan when he set up shop in 1997; fortunately, the Priorat proved an interesting and worthwhile testing ground. I’m sipping the 2009’s worthwhileness while I write (my hosts were too kind in allowing me to take a couple of bottles with me to enjoy at my hotel later, to see how they would open, or evolve with a bit of oxygen in their ‘lungs’).

For the sake of argument, I just re-poured the second offering: the 2006 Clos Figueres red. It was a gem, arguably in its prime, even freshly uncorked this morning; now its anticipated chewy black plum and black raspberry (fraboise) fruit, with an edge of strawberry leaf, forest floor (sabroso…), dried herbs, bittersweet chocolate and black pepper spice flourish even more. Yet, I know it will continue to open and deliver even more.

Jaume used his pepito (plastic theif) to “steal” a bit of wine from each of the 2010 barrels enjoying their siesta (pre-aging/bottling) in barrels below the alfresco tasting porch so I could taste them each au natural. What an experience! This is the sort of opportunity that drives home the essence of varietal expression. Grenache is uniquely Grenache, with natural variation depending on the vineyard site; but at the end of the day, a Granny Smith apple is too tart to be called Macintosh just like Grenache is too red-berry fruited to be called Mouvedre, a more smoked meat, gamey, blueberry/redberry fruit flavored varietal. How varietals work together is what makes a particular Clos stand out in their efforts (aka when to pick, in what vessel one should ferment each varietal, and later, what balance of grapes will comprise the final wine).

Clos Figueres delivers an authentic expression of the Priorat. Their reds are structured but elegant, chewy but savory, juicy but teeth-sinking. If you can get your hands on a 2006 (or have one in your cellar) this is the time to uncork!

"Lower Priorat" - Part 1

This post was written while I was traveling in Spain last week. To say the Priorat expresses itself on the drive in, up and curving painstakingly through the mountains is one thing. Certainly. As I write (after a day of exploring this part of the Priorat and tasting at Clos Figueres – more on that later), I’m perched in my semi-private patio, overlooking life as the 240 person town of Gratallops knows it – children (all of them?) playing on the basketball court below not more than 100 feet from me, the quiet office of my hotel and the cellars (Onyx) they run, and the “parking lot” – a lucky plot of land not more than 1200 square feet with a place for you to turn off the engine without worry one of the narrow former cow path roads will lend itself to some sort of collision while you rest in the dormitory more or less above.

Purple flowers are in bloom while the vines are still largely dormant, with just a few buds appearing in the fairly warm, temperate spring air. The ground is a bright green, that is where grass is poking through, hanging in there for just a few weeks before the ever-warm sun cooks it to browness in the absence of rain.

Whereas Penendes was an amalgam of soil types, the Priorat is nearly completely (frighteningly, re: drive) terraced licoricella, or a sandy/rocky slate. Here in the lower Priorat at least, it is largely Grand Canyon orange-red. Olive (dark green) and almond (lighter green) trees are scattered throughout the vineyards. Visually they add a natural texture and romantic call to the landscape.

A vinous comparison? There is not really one. You could stretch to the complexity and arguably ‘fierce’ structure (well balanced but more tannic) wines of Bordeaux, but the fruit forward, teeth-sinking, chewy wines of Chateauneuf du Pape (last year’s trip) are perhaps better comparisons – at least one of the primary grapes used in both their reds is one in the same: Garnacha/Grenache.

The most fascinating thing – the thing that becomes particularly self-evident once you visit a wine region such as this – is that you can taste the terroir. It is visceral, it is not really something you can put your finger on, but it is very apparent. You “see” the red slate as you taste, the texture (fine tannin) is as animate as touching the soil, the olive and almond trees, the purple flowers…. The downright freshness of this place is alive in the wine. The best wineries (I think, humbly) capture this local essence no matter where you are. In Priorat you gather a survival of the fittest, but a sleepy-town (quiet) elegance as well.....

Tasting and traveling - and the two in tandem

Wondered where I've been? March was largely spent downtown or throughout Cambridge at various venues set up for trade folks to taste hundreds of wines, both those entirely new to market and also and equally important, newly released vintages of old friends. It was a more rigorous spring tasting season on "the circuit" (as we wine professionals call it) than last year, I hate to admit it. Meanwhile, I was preparing for my trip (now in motion...) to Spain, where I have been visiting what I call Cava Country, more formally known as Penedes, and also the Priorat.

My travels began a couple of days ago with Marc Picon at Pares Balta, which  proved more than I could have imagined, even knowing in advance that this is a fourth-generation run estate that has embraced organic viticulture since The Beginning, well before it was of interest or marketable to do so. They also operate in what is now a national Park.

When I arrived, Marc, my congenial on-sight host and the estate’s Export Manager, explained that Pares Balta's main priority isn’t showcasing the “music” behind their work in the winery when they are introducing people to Pares Balta (and yes, they make many, many different wines); rather they are focused on the land. I smiled and nodded a bit when he said this, because if you’ve taken a trip to any winery worldwide, I’m sure you, too, have heard the owner, winemaker or staff talk about the importance of terroir. Not to undermine their work or the sincerity of these statements, but I have to say, Pares Balta really does relish the earth and the natural course of things in an extreme way (and the result is extremely tasty!).

To explain better, Marc and I jumped in his SUV and began our “15 minute” journey up into the mountains where the Pares Balta vineyards are located, as I mentioned, now in a National Park. Yes, it is that serious. And yes, the ride was even more colorful than one of those Super Bowl SUV ads where you see trucks bouncing along easily over fallen logs, up cliffs and over boulders. If I could have taken a picture of it, I would have – but we were literally bouncing too much for me to capture the moment and video would have made any viewer nauseous.

Our first “stop” up the vigorous terrain was to the Pares Balta beehives. A costly undertaking, no doubt, PB has a beekeeper on staff to further support cross-pollination of the vines of course, but not just so they flourish; rather, so that the entire community flourishes, imparting natural, enhanced flavors in the wine. For example, the rosemary bushes growing alongside the trail flower. This flavor profile is gently communicated to the vines as the bees carry out their natural work. Brilliant. Nature helping nature help us.

Marc employed a terrific approach to best share both the Pares Balta way and what makes Penendes unique. We didn’t just bound up the mountain and look out the window. Instead, we stopped at various, specific vineyard sites to taste certain wines alongside the river in one case, and at the top of the mountain, in another. At each stop you could literally feel the change in climate, the quality of “freshness” in the air, the amount of (or lack of) wind, etc.. What makes Penendes so special was poignant and palpable: the varied terrain (a vivid mix of plots of clay literally across the path from plots of chalk) and microclimates.

What was perhaps most compelling to me was the hands off/hands on approach PB employs. They fully embrace what nature delivers on its own, and yet they don’t hesitate to employ (or encourage nature along?) either. Case in point, they use pheromones at the edge of the vineyards site as a natural ‘turn off’ to butterflies (the wind carries the "off-putting" scent down the rows), encouraging them to go ‘play’ in someone else’s vineyards. It’s one way to avoid pesticides and let the fruit mature unhindered by pests.

Tasting through many of Pares Balta’s wines was its own experience. Their range is from traditional Cavas, to rare single varietal bottlings that capture both the essence of the grape and also, critically and as expected, of the vineyard site’s terroir and aspect. As a case in point, Marc enthusiastically offered me a tasting of one of their rarest wines, a dry Gewurtztraminer. It was possibly the most varietally expressive Gewurtz I have ever experienced. (Yes! This grape is incredibly rare to Spain and more often found in Europe’s Germany and Alsace; the spice in the wine literally poked at my taste buds! But no, their production is ever-so-small, and therefore will never reach our New England shores.)

In addition, Marc enthusiastically designed a taste-off between two pairs of wines. The first was of two Garnacha’s from two different vineyard sites. Their flavors were of like family, but certainly of distinct breeding: 2008 Hisenda Miret, a more rugged, gamey beast that tamed willingy as it opened; and the 2008 Indigena, a fruit forward, approachable Garnacha with the flare of a rosey-cheeked flamenco dancer.

The second taste-off was between two Tempranillos hailing from two different clones, one wine was made from the local Penendes grape Ull de Lebre, and the other from a Pares Balta project in a much farther region, Ribera del Duero. The Absis is a Tempranillo-based wine that delivered a surprising helping of stewed plumbs, golden raisin, orange rind, blackberry and brighter raspberry fruits, with intense herbs and purple flowers, while the Ribera wine showed more masculine muscle, wet soil, fine dried herbs and baker’s chocolate flavors.

Long story short, I could have stayed all day! But appointments in the equally world-reknowned Priorat region beckoned….