White Zinfandel through a straw

I just finished reading a book on how to live more like the French called Lessons from Madame Chic: The Top 20 Things I Learned While Living In Paris (Jennifer L. Scott, $2.99 on Amazon Kindle books), as recommended to me by a colleague with similar taste. Though at times poorly written (she basically threw her blog posts at some binding glue and called it done), it was excellent in that it revitalized me, made me think, and made some amazing points. If you can get past the moments of bad writing, it is a complete self-help, life-changing gem. Beyond giving great advice about dressing, eating, entertaining, and decorating – the author, Jennifer Scott, gave great advice about living as a whole. She suggests at one point in her book that 

“Seeking out nothing but quality in your life is not about being snobby or pretentious – it’s about being selective and discerning. It is about respecting yourself and your loved ones enough to realize that every moment in life is previous, so why not fill it with the highest quality things or experiences as possible?” 

This excerpt encapsulates my life philosophy - from the way I like to eat and dress, decorate my home, spend time with people, and finally the way I like to drink my wine. Ben likes to tell me that I’m being snobby and pretentious (about everything, not just wine), and I like that Jennifer Scott understands. There’s nothing wrong with wanting quality in your life, where you can afford and access it. There is just as little reason to drink low-quality wine out of the wrong glassware, as there is to eat rotten vegetables off of a Frisbee with a stick (except maybe when cost or alcoholism is severely limiting you). With wine so remarkably accessible and inexpensive (Target, Fred Meyer, Safeway, even gas station convenience stores, have great, well-priced offerings) , there is no reason to be tapping into your Franzia box with a reindeer mug on a Saturday night, unless, of course, you’re 17 and that’s all that you could get someone over 21 to buy for you (the mug is still inexcusable -it’s March!). If you can’t afford a $75 bottle of Chateauneuf-du-Pape (sobs) or one of Parker’s contested 100-point Bordeaux, there’s no reason to throw in the towel and chug a jug of Carlo Rossi or Yellowtail Moscato. Take the Columbia Crest Two Vines Chardonnay, for example, which is $6.99 at my local Walgreens and received 86 points with the Wine Spectator, or a bottle of Barnard and Griffin Rose, on the Wine Spectator’s top 100 wines list in 2008, for only $11. They may be triple, even quadruple, the price of two-buck chuck, but let’s be honest; shelling out an extra $3 for about 86 more points in value and taste is a remarkable deal not found in many other arenas of our material lives.

In addition to drinking quality wines, I think it’s rewarding to drink your wine out of the proper glassware (no more mugs, you recent grads, and god forbid anything plastic – we’re not camping). I recently was gifted Riedel glasses and a Vinturi aerator (definitely out of my personal price range, but perfect for gifts), and was blown away by the difference between drinking out of a stem-less red wine glass from Fred Meyer and the thin crystal Riedels designed for drinking wine. My mom recently purchased red wine glasses by Riedel Vivant, the Target line of Riedel, which were considerably less expensive ($40 for a set of 4 red wine glasses) and was also thrown at how much the glasses increased the quality of her drinking experience. She didn’t quite believe me when I said that the difference in taste was not only noticeable, but life changing. The glassware may encourage your now blooming wine to go down more smoothly, but it also allows you to fully experience wine the way it was meant to be experienced.

If $10 a stem is $10 a stem too much for you, I also recommend lurking around Goodwill or other thrift shops as they often have great glassware for fifty cents to a dollar a stem. Ben got a set of brand new Riedel beer glasses from Goodwill for a ridiculously good deal, and my champagne flutes are also from a local thrift store (fifty cents a flute and New Year’s Prosecco was a go). Additionally, TJ MAXX has excellent deals on stemware. I purchased my most recent entertaining wine glasses (my Riedels are for private tastings between Ben and I, not company) there and found a set of gorgeous Lenox non-leaded crystal red wine glasses for $20. 

Once you’ve thrown away your plastic sippy cups, stained purple from many a night alone with a Bota Box of wine – you’ll be amazed at the difference in experience proper glassware and good wine will make. Your enjoyment of the afternoon glass will turn into enjoyment of the experience of uncorking a bottle, pouring it through the decanter (or just swirling it around the glass), and drinking out of a glass made to accent the vivid fruit, lingering spice, and mouthfeel of a sip of wine.

Or, I guess, you can just sip a Beringer White Zinfandel with a straw and call it good…

Blindfolded in Italy

There is nothing like the first hint of spring in the Northwest, a place where winter is seven long months of rain and wind. And a few days after our last bout of snowy weather, there has finally been a hint of it. At work, there has been warm sunlight streaming in through the windows, the smell of bark mulch around the trees, and spring flowers have been creeping up in the frosty air. At home, the sun is staying out until almost 7:30 p.m. and the apartment has been filled with glowing early morning and afternoon light – purple and red sunsets over Mount Rainier. We have yellow daffodils in the bedroom and yellow, orange, and red tulips in the living room. 

If you’re from the Northwest, you’ll know what that first warm batch of sunlight feels like on your skin, after almost seven months of rain and grey skies. And the sun brings on ideas of the summer, of warm evenings spent on the porch drinking beer and wine and lemony cocktails. We may not have a porch, and the sunshine may still be maxing out at 53 degrees, but it has got me in the mood for summer entertaining.

Though I have two unopened bottles of French rose in my wine rack, I haven’t quite graduated from my warm reds. I guess I’m waiting for some kind of weather miracle (like a 60 degree day in March?) to actually pull out the corks and drink them with a light appetizer. And so while we wait for the spring to kick off Pinot, white wine, and Rose season…

The other night I came home to homemade pizzas and two wine glasses sitting out on the table, meaning Ben had gone rogue and picked out a wine by himself (he’s rarely allowed this privilege). There is little better than being able to come home after a long day at work and have dinner in the oven, the house clean, and a bottle of wine being aerated for you. I suppose that’s probably why men in the 50s were so reluctant to let their wives work – it’s really a paradise that everyone should get to experience. Ben is a fan of big, bold, and, well, Italian wines, so it was no surprise that he picked out an Italian blend of Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Sangiovese. The wine, a 2009 Vitiano Rosso (~$10-11), was a beautiful dark red. The bouquet was very fruit forward with quite a bit of spice (I noted a lot of pepper). This blend, without the Sangiovese to blend it, would have been far too sweet, as the cabernet, which dominated the front of the sip, was very juicy and ripe (almost jammy) with cherry. The end, however, added dimension to the cabernet and merlot components of the wine, adding the rustic quality so common to Italian wines. The wine verged on being too heavy, but when served with our two pizzas (a mushroom and red onion pizza, and a warm cheese pizza with mixed greens piled on top), it was perfect. Suggested as a pizza-wine in the store, I think it was perfect for the meal and the price. Try it with any red-sauce and pasta and gourmet pizza or calzones.

Ben had me experiment with a blind tasting when he served the wine. I’ve never done a blind tasting before and I certainly didn’t pass this with flying colors, but it was very eye opening. I first smelled the wine and picked up the bold flavors with a hint of spice. It was immediately evident that the wine was not French, as it was too big and bold. I guessed that it was American, as the heavy fruit from the Cabernet was so powerful that I suspected it had to be New World. However, the spice at the end of the sip made it evident that the wine was a blend (I’d never tasted a varietal with that range before) and I guessed that very quickly. I was spot on in guessing Cabernet, but missed the Merlot and Sangiovese components. I understand that blind tastings are difficult when you purchase your own wine, but I recommend that if you ever have the opportunity,  

The Real World

As the year anniversary of my graduation from college looms (how can that be?!), I realize that the title of this blog is becoming quickly outdated. I’m not a recent college graduate anymore, something both terrifying and liberating. One of my best friends and I were talking the other day about how life after graduation has eaten us up – between the full-time job, the daily commute, the entry-level paychecks, the monthly expenses, and all of the real-world things we’re facing on our own, we feel like the real world has swallowed us whole.

My month consists of a list of payment due dates versus pay days. It’s only now that I realize that the “starving college student” assumption should be entirely renamed the “starving after-graduation new-adult.” My for-fun ramen in college wasn’t necessity-for-the-last-few-days-of-the-month-ramen, like it is now. My frivolous expenses in college were Spring Break trips to New York City and Las Vegas. This pay period my frivolous purchases were a couple of $9 frames from K-Mart and a bottle of Horse Heaven Hills on a Safeway Washington Wine sale. 

But for all of these pain points, it has been an enriching experience as well. I don’t think I expected to graduate from college without a place to live and without a job. I didn’t know that I could literally live out of a suitcase for 4 months. Through the struggle to find a place to live and the almost endless job searching, I did find a job (that I love) and I did find a place to live (that I love) with both the person and the cat that I love, and proved to myself that I could pretty much deal with all of my worst unplanned-life fears.

Image from columbiacrest.com

And in keeping with a blog post torn between the painful and the gratifying, it seems appropriate to write about wine I tried this week. The first was a 2009 Horse Heaven Hills Les Chevaux ($13) red blend (34% Cabernet Sauvignon, 34% Merlot, 18% Syrah, 10% Malbec, 3% Cabernet Franc). The wine scored 90 points with the Wine Spectator, was on sale with Safeway’s Washington Wine 30% discount, and comes from one my favorite off-shoots of Columbia Crest. As my aforementioned poverty has been limiting my wine drinking lately, I was excited to store this in the wine rack and drink it on the weekend when both Ben and I had time to enjoy the bottle. Naturally, as all things seem to go lately, fate interrupted my plans and Ben dropped the bag that held the wine bottle on our walk from the car to the apartment. Everything seemed intact until we got back to our apartment and the top fell off of the bottle splashing wine all over my “rustic mudroom bench,” the walls, the open Joy of Cooking, and Ben’s H&R Block tax documents. And really, thank god for the decanter. Ben and I decanted the spilling wine and enjoyed it right there. 

Like all Horse Heaven Hills wines, this was smooth, full, and excellently balanced. I was shocked at how well the blend had been crafted, as I’m not usually a big fan of blends. There was neither too much nor too little fruit for a New World cab/merlot blend, and the Syrah/Malbec addition didn’t over-spice the back end of the wine. The finish was smooth, with silky tannins and enough dimension to keep me wanting more. I’d very very highly recommend this wine. 

If my recommendation isn’t enough to sway you, Les Chevaux is French for “The Horses” and if that doesn’t endear you with visions of wild horses running through fields of wine grapes, then you might as well screw open a jug of Carlo Rossi and stop reading this blog.

New and Old World musings

Standing in the Stadium Thriftway (the cute, overpriced market close to our apartment), I said out loud in the wine section that I “wasn’t feeling New-World-y lately.” Ben was holding a bottle of Washington wine and though he laughed, I’m sure the people looking at round bamboo cutting boards thought I was gross… It has been true lately. If the bombardment of French wine blogging is any evidence, I haven’t been drinking anything from this coast.  

Luckily, the restaurants I (too) frequently visit, don’t offer very many affordable French options and I was recently forced in to some New World wine. I had a 2009 Ghost Pines Cabernet Sauvignon (~$15-$20 retail) and was very pleasantly surprised by this Sonoma County-sourced wine. The wine was big and smooth. Whenever I drink New World Cabernets (always in Riedels), I think of lush fruit. The deep, full glasses evoke rich, dark jams and make me picture fat grapes hanging off the vine (maybe even that grape scene from the original Fantasia). If you’ve ever been to a vineyard, you know that fat, ripe fruit is not quite the take-away image. I’ve actually never seen a delicious looking bunch of grapes at a vineyard, for good reason.

Regardless, this Cabernet evoked the same sentiments. It was vivid and lush without being jammy, and surprisingly smooth. Even though the bottle had just been opened, I found little sharpness or acidity at the end of the sip and found the tannins to be quite smooth. If you’re more partial to fruitier cabernets like Bonterra and Horse Heaven Hills Cabernet Sauvignon, I would highly recommend the Ghost Pines. It evokes blackberries and plums, and finishes very smoothly. For those looking for lots of complexity and finishing notes in their cabernets, this might be a bit simple for you. 

In the same week, I also tried a new French wine, and the comparison between the new and old worlds is one I think worth sharing. The wine I tried was a 2009 Mas de Guiot Grenache-Syrah ($12.99) from the Costieres de Nimes estate in Southwest France. The winemakers, Francois and Sylvia Cornut, are renowned for their orchards as well as their wine. The label suggested that the rocky soils of this region made the wine reminiscent of a Chateauneuf-du-Pape (my dream appellation). The Mas de Guiot was 40% Grenache and 60% Syrah. Though I’m not usually a Syrah drinker, I can completely get behind the blends that use it as their backbone. Somehow the Grenache blends and matures the Syrah so that it is less powerful, spicy, and tannic. In the blends, the earthiness and complexity remains without so much of the espresso and black pepper intruding on the sip. The Mas de Guiot, while no Cotes du Rhone, was very drinkable. I found myself missing the body of the Ghost Pines and the weight of the Cotes du Rhone, but pleased none-the-less. Considerably less heavy than either of the two I just mentioned, this wine would be a perfect accompaniment to a meal (casual grilled meals like fajitas or burgers). 

The difference between old world and new world is reflected in wine much like it is in our views and cultures. The old world wines are very unassuming. The Mas de Guoit’s label was merely black script on white, the Ghost Pines is a beautiful image of leafless trees against a misty backdrop. The Mas de Guiot asked to be drunk with grilled meat, the Ghost Pines with a Filet Mignon. I found myself able to drink the French wine over casual conversation, but found myself digesting and consciously drinking the Cabernet. Everything seemed bigger and more pronounced in the New World wine.

I think that our wine drinking habits, inclinations, and tastes are interesting to look at, across regions and countries. Perhaps it says something that our wines are always trying – to score points, to please great numbers (gag, Barefoot), to make an impact. And perhaps that’s why we should buy sleepy French wines whose labels say little but “I am French.”

21 Cellars in Tacoma

This weekend, enjoying a Groupon my friend Caitlin shared with us, we went wine tasting down the street from our apartment. I don’t normally associate Tacoma with wine-tasting, and until a week ago was in the dark as to any wineries or tasting rooms in the immediate area. However, tucked into a little brick building, down a steep flight of stairs, and located in a tiny basement with exposed concrete and unfinished ceilings is the charming 21Cellars. Marked only by a sign that says “Open” and through a door explaining “Massage Therapy,” this winery fits the “hidden gem” bill. The ceilings were strung with white lights and the room full to bursting with gorgeous wine barrels, stained purple. The entire room smelled of oak and wine. Only open on Saturdays from 12-4 p.m. (or Thursdays by appointment), wine tasting is $5/person. 

The assistant winemaker, Katrina (another Puget Sound grad), led our tasting and we met the winemaker, Philip Coates. 21 Cellars has been around since 2003, but only recently took off after their 2006 Pont21 Cabernet Sauvignon was named one of the Top Ten New Washington Wines. Our tasting consisted of the 2007 Pont21 Cabernet Sauvignon ($19), the 2009 Pont21 Malbec, and the 2008 Promesse 21, a Cab Sauv/Cab Franc blend for $32. I was thoroughly impressed by the Pont21 Cabernet as it was rich, smooth, and very drinkable. It reminded me of some of the Bonterra Cabernet Sauvignon - juicy without being jammy, and smooth with fruit without being too overbearing.   The Promesse 21 was also delicious, but a bit over-budget for me (and for this blog). The assistant winemaker suggested that the Pont21 Cab that this wine would only improve with age, up to seven years in the cellar. I found the wine to be perfect as we drank it, as it was smooth, and I found the tannins already smooth and well-developed. I bought a bottle to take home and am happy to hear that it’s sold in some grocery stores in the area as well. I think that this winery will only expand from this point and I highly recommend stopping by to taste some wine. 

We finished our wine tasting afternoon with our usual weekly dinner party. Wine-snob themed, we drank two excellent and inexpensive Bordeauxs with goat cheese, onion, and mushroom tarts, smoked salmon on tuiles, and cheese and wine spreads on crusty sourdough. We finished the evening off with Caitlin’s excellent arrabiata and penne, a  Horse Heaven Hills Cabernet Sauvignon, and then had hot pears stuffed with blue cheese, nuts, and raisins for dessert. I’ll write more on the Bordeauxs for another post, so stay tuned.

Ben and I spent the rest of the weekend drying out a bit from the wine festivities by watching Intervention and Addicted on Netflix. If you’re looking for a way to be turned off of alcohol and other substances, watch these shows. There is little that is less appetizing than screaming alcoholics running nude through the streets and washed up basketball players selling their clothes for meth.

Dreaming of drinking

I just had my wisdom teeth out – all four, at once – which has severely curbed my culinary pleasures. I spent lunch today thinking about eating and plan on spending dinner drawing pictures of crunchy St. Helens BLT sliders from Maxwell’s and wishing I didn’t have what seems to be an emerging case of dry socket.

 It has been quite the ordeal at our house this week, what with me mewling on the couch, the cat having a nervous breakdown over the appearance of “Red Bug” (or the bug that comes out of the laser pointer when you least expect it), and Ben tending to my insistent cries for “more jello!” or “do you think I’m going to die?” We didn’t get to spend Valentine’s Day with a Joel Gott 815 Cab (like I would have liked), nor did we get to kick off the weekend at our usual Thursday night haunt with a ½ off bottle of wine, maybe a Balboa Merlot or a Sharecroppers Cabernet. Nor did it help that when skyping with my Mom, she poured herself a glass of red to tease me from 2,500 miles away. Instead, I worried near constantly, went through about 90 bags of ice, and now have a messy house and a very very sore mouth.

Needless to say… I’m dying for a glass of wine. Anything really. I’d have a Zinfandel at this point, heck I’d even try a White Zinfandel if it meant that I could sit back and each cheese and crackers and drink something. However, the pain, my insane neuroses, and the jarring mental image (sorry!) of wine filling up my exposed gum holes, only to come swishing back out again and down my throat, has completely turned me off pretty much everything. My diet right now consists of things that don’t make me want to immediately vomit – applesauce and tomato juice. I’m sure that this image has now made you want to vomit and stop eating applesauce and tomato juice, but such is life. Misery loves company. I’m probably making a bigger deal out of this than necessary, but somehow using a syringe to irrigate food particles out of your surgical wounds doesn’t put a skip in my step.

So, instead, I’m thinking about things I’d like to eat as if I was facing my last meal. And, in lieu of writing about anything I’ve discovered recently, I’m going to plan a dream wine menu (feel free to enjoy without me) - 

If I could drink any wine I want right now, I would start with a Prosecco toast among friends. I tried an Adami Prosecco ($14) at a wine tasting the other day and it was so light and so crisp I could see drinking bottles of it and not getting tired of the delicate taste. With the right amount of bright citrus, yet a dry finish, this wine was perfect on its own and I’d recommend it that way. And then, as the bottle ran dry, a Kris Pinot Grigio ($10-12). Clearly, I’d be on a sunny porch in some foreign country, airing out my tanned and impeccably toned legs, and I would be eating caprese, the fresh tomatoes bursting with seeds and red juice. The wine would be cool, clear, and almost sparkling, the pale yellow in the glass picking up the sun. And then, I’d move, as the sun set over a glistening and very warm sea, to a Bethel Heights Pinot Noir ($30). With it I’d nibble on thin slices of raw Ahi, slather some bread with a thick mushroom bruschetta, and spread soft blue cheese on thin baguette slices. And then, as the air got chilly and the breeze picked up a hint of faraway places, and the leaves started to rustle in a natural chorus, I’d open a bottle of Reserve Perrin Cotes du Rhone (you all know that this is my favorite wine), and serve up some mushroom and herb encrusted lamb (in this dream I am no longer a kind-of-vegetarian) with a wilted spinach salad. And for dessert, hours later, into the painted black of nighttime in a quiet place, I'd drink a glass of Warre's Warrior Port ($16) with a tiny bit of Stilton cheese and absolutely die of happiness.

Mm… and now back to my lukewarm applesauce.

Ode to Hops

I find myself caught between competing interests when I write this blog and am often hard-pressed to keep the conversation strictly to wine. I drink great beers on a more regular basis than I do wine (you can open beer one without worrying about drinking the rest of the six pack within two days) and find it hard not to write about the latest brew in the fridge. And risking losing my (very) small audience, I’m going to dedicate this blog post to everything-but-wine, get it all out of my system, and return to blogging as normal by the next post.

I think that I mentioned somewhere in the past few posts that I’ve been on an IPA kick of late. Ben and I did not consider ourselves IPA lovers as late as this summer, choosing Ambers, Porters, and Stouts (and even Hefeweizens, uck!) over anything hoppy. Though they weren’t as far down the list as pale ales, we considered IPAs fourth-drink beers – about the point where your taste buds can’t feel or taste a thing. 

 

We visited the Eugene Ninkasi brewery one day with Ben’s friend Carl and tried a sampler of their beers. They were all, save for one, IPAs. Needless to say, I drank a taster of their delicious Oatmeal Stout and steered clear of the rest. The IPAs were ridiculously hoppy and bitter. And then, one day, it just happened that a Deschutes Brewery Inversion IPA tasted delicious. And then a Stone IPA tasted pretty great. And as all taste changes occur, it caused a snowball effect.

I finally came around to Ninkasi, a brewery that makes, in my newly-assessed opinion, the best IPAs. Based out of Eugene, it’s no wonder I’d initially hate the beer and then come to love it. Eugene was for me, initially repulsive – maybe it is the excessively liberal climate, the lack of any kind of downtown area that isn’t a hippie open air market, and the fact that they call Valley River, their small and completely reasonable mall, “Valley Rip-Off” just because you can’t barter for goods there like you can everywhere else in Eugene. And then, slowly but surely, like a good IPA, my fourth-drink-city became beloved. I found little restaurants tucked away that offered amazing happy hour deals on draft beer. I realized that Eugene’s VooDoo Donut is open 24 hours a day and is next to McMenamin’s, where the tater tots are Cajun-ized and often on Happy Hour. I started to like the smell of the market especially when basil was in season, start to enjoy the weird clay wares for sale, begin to love the wet weather because it meant the freshly planted garden was getting much needed rain… 

But I digress. Back to Ninkasi – Ninkasi is crazy success story of a brewery going viral. It opened in June of 2006 with a Total Domination IPA, their best-selling brew to this day. Their tasting room opened in 2009. Ninkasi, named after the goddess of brewing, has become one of the fastest growing craft breweries in the U.S. It consistently receives high marks for its beers. The Total Domination IPA, probably the least hoppy of their IPAs, is still a beer to try once you’ve already decided you like IPAs as it’s still considered an “aggressive IPA.” Once you do love them, don’t hesitate to try it. Total Dom is a gorgeous light orange and wheat color that smells like fresh hops and packs an alcohol content punch at 6.7%. Their second, and my personal favorite IPA, is the Ninkasi Tricerahops, an epic Double IPA (more malt, more hops, and a higher gravity). At about $5.99 a 22oz. (the Total Dom is about $3-4 a 22oz. or $9.99 a six pack), this beer is a luxury in our house. It’s 8.8% alcohol and, speaking from experience, it will damage you if you drink the entire 22oz. If you’re looking to literally double your IPA tastes, then this is the beer to try.

If you’re not seduced by my Ode to Hops, but still want to try an IPA that’s both more reasonably priced and tastes a little less bitter – check out the spring seasonal release of the Alaskan Black IPA. My good friend Maria recently brought this over to my house as an exchange beer for a bottle of homebrew and it was delicious. This IPA, and other black IPAs, combine the malt of a porter or stout with the bright flavor of an IPA. This beer tastes like an IPA on first sip, but quickly turns into a dark and malty finish. Imagine taking a swig of a Deschutes Inversion IPA and following it with their Black Butte Porter (two of my favorite beers). Alaskan calls this beer “sessionable” and I’m inclined to agree. Not an Alaskan Brewing Co. lover, this beer definitely surprised me.

Cotes du Rhone (again)

Three bottles of Côtes du Rhône blends later and it looks like my New Year’s resolution is already shot. Ah well… I suppose that’s what you get for trying to break away from such a delicious group of wines. At least I’m writing about it.

This wine-writing experience for me is not only about drinking wine and writing (two of my greatest loves), but it’s also about learning. I certainly don’t pretend to know everything there is to know about great appellations or terriors. Nor do I know very much about the specific and varied grapes that come from every different region. And my affair with Côtes du Rhône is a perfect example of my naiveté.

I found myself unable to answer my mother the other night when she asked me if a Côtes du Rhône was a type of grape or a region. Though I knew it was a region, I couldn’t figure out what specific varietal it was – probably because I’d never seen anything on the label but "Côtes du Rhône" and the name of the winery from which it came. And so, I started to do a little bit of research. 

Côtes du Rhône (hills or slopes of Rhone) is a controlled appellation in the Rhône wine region of France from which a whole host of delicious blends emerge. Though the Côtes du Rhône, is not, as I may have thought, a varietal – it might as well be, as most wines that come from this region are primarily Grenache and Syrah blends (either red or white from Grenache blanc). To be considered a Côtes du Rhône blend, the wine must have a minimum percentage of Syrah. Though I haven't delved into the white blends, they have similar requirements with a minimum percentage of Grenache blanc required. My favorite Côtes du Rhône, the Reserve Perrin is composed of 60% Grenache, 20% Syrah, and 20% Mourvedre - a relatively common assortment of varietals for a glass of this appellation's wine.

I’ve written about  my favorite blend, the 2009 Perrin Reserve Côtes du Rhône ($10.99), but I haven’t written about two different blends I tried recently. The first, at the recommendation of a Professor of mine, was the 2007 E. Guigal Côtes du Rhône Red ($10.99-12.99). This red, given 90 points by Robert Parker, was delicious, but a bit too Syrah-y for my tastes. I’m not a big fan of the Shiraz/Syrah varietal and as this was about 50% Syrah, it was too much for me. Though the wine was certainly smooth, with a great finish, I thought the cherry and currant led it to be a bit too sour without any tempered soft spices to really balance it out. Though it certainly wasn’t difficult to drink, I found myself, like many other reviewers, wondering why this wine was so revered when less expensive alternatives tasted better.

The second Côtes du Rhône blend I recently tried had a nearly indistinguishable name and label from the 2009 Perrin Reserve Côtes du Rhône. However, the wine was completely different. From the Famille Perrin, the Perrin Reserve Côtes du Rhône Rouge 2010 ($8.99) is a delicious, less expensive alternative to the 2009 Perrin Reserve Cotes du Rhone blend. Though they are nearly identical in name and almost impossible to look up online, the wines were similar in smoothness, spicyness, and both full of rustic Côtes du Rhône flavor. Like the Reserve blend, this wine is also made up of more Grenache than Syrah, lending it a spicy element that countered the sour cherry and currant fruit that was so heavy in the Guigal. We did have to let it sit in the decanter for quite a while, as the sharp tannins at the end were a bit harsh at first and made me feel that the wine was still a bit young. I’d recommend this wine with a lighter meal (or perhaps before the meal entirely), and save the Reserve blend for the heartier pastas and meats.

Chardonnay

I’m a picky person. I don't like very many things. I find the majority of fruits to be a bit too squishy, a small population of vegetables to be horrifying (brussel sprouts, lima beans, peas, cauliflower, etc.), most nuts to be too nutty. I don’t care for most sodas, the majority of tropical-themed juices, and anything MinuteMaid makes my teeth hurt.

And so it constantly surprises me how much I like wine. And how much I like all of the varietals. It's very rare that I'm horrified by a wine, Cupcake Red Velvet, being the most recent exception to the rule. (If it's a sweet red that makes non-wine drinkers go: "Mmm! Tastes like chocolate!" then I probably hate it. And it's probably Cupcake Red Velvet.)

Maybe a year ago, I would have put quite a few varietals in the list of things I didn’t care for – Shiraz, Zinfandel, Chardonnay, Riesling, Pinot Noir. But time and money have conquered most of these dislikes and turned them into loves. I have already chronicled my fear of Pinot Noir and the Oregon summer that lead me to drinking more regularly than a Cabernet or Merlot… But I haven’t spoken about many white wines.

I’ll start with Chardonnay. The Chardonnay obstacle was a mental roadblock - buttery whites that dominate female ordering on 90s television shows spelled out a “No thanks!” for me. The name even sounds terrible. When I say it in my head I imagine a bigger man from a Southern state pronouncing it in an accent, his large hands around a tiny, cheap glass of wine. Maybe it’s the alliteration, or the ugly “Chard” introduction to the word…

But then I had a really cheap, really great encounter with the Columbia Crest Two Vines Chardonnay. I don’t usually make it a habit to buy $6-$7 wines, but one summer day the Wine Spectator’s 89 point rating and the teeny price tag drew me in. You can read more about the tasting experience here.

And then I had another encounter, at over 2x the price of the Columbia Crest that solidified my taste for Chardonnay. I went to a Safeway wine tasting recently (it was every bit as sterile as it sounds, but I’m glad Safeway is trying to offer this!) and they had available a La Crema Chardonnay, Pinot Noir (from the Sonoma coast) and Kendall Jackson’s Summation red. I won’t go into how much I resist buying anything with a name so boring as Kendall Jackson and I’ll admit that I loved the Summation blend (against my aesthetic, creative judgment). I didn’t have high hopes for the Chardonnay, but once again, was surprised.

The 2009 La Crema Chardonnay ($14.99 on sale at Safeway/off sale $20) is a delicious, more adult Chardonnay). Though it was still rich with oak and silky smooth, the wine had a great hint of acidity that cut the smoothness. The dimension in this Chardonnay, blended flavors of honey and apple, complimented by the acidity, pushed it beyond the designation of an easy drinking, summer porch wine Chardonnay. I was blown away by the taste in store and bought it to go with some fresh basil, tomato, and mozzarella pizza. The freshness of all of the flavors reminded me of the crispness of early spring.

If you, like me, fear the large man holding a tiny glass of Chardonnay, pronouncing Merlot “Mer-lot,” or equally fear turning into a mini-skirt clad 90s lawyer ordering Chardonnay at a local bar (I’ve been watching Ally McBeal) – then try the La Crema Chardonnay. I think you’ll take a sip and picture a satisfied oenophile on a terrace somewhere in California, looking over a rolling sea, listening to sea birds.

Stuck in France

I get stuck in food/taste ruts quite often. I'm not sure what to call it but it's categorized by long bouts of eating the same thing, until I overload my taste buds with the same tastes and swing in a drastically opposite direction. I'm in a yogurt and granola rut right now. Organic blueberry flax granola and greek honey yogurt... I could eat it for every single meal, all day long, for the next two weeks. Last time, it was Pace Medium Picante salsa and Mission Tortilla chips. I ate jars and jars worth of salsa. I can't say it's healthy, but it's taste-bud satisfying and it makes for easy bulk-shopping.

It seems to be the same with alcohol. You can probably chart my wine drinking ruts through this blog. Right now, I'm smack dab in the middle of a Cotes Du Rhone binge. I don't want to drink anything else. And seeing that there are about 2 worthwhile Cotes Du Rhone wines in my price range, there isn't much differentiation in my drinking habits. As for beer, I'm only drinking IPAs. Nothing tastes as rich or as refreshing as a really good, 6%+ IPA. So it's Cotes Du Rhone and a variety of IPAs (Deschutes Inversion IPA and Ninkasi Total Domination IPA, primarily) at our apartment right now and I can't seem to break free. My last alcohol rut was probably Cabernet Sauvignon and Porters... I suppose the difference isn't huge in this case, but I certainly have my patterns.

The weather has been insane here in Washington lately, a big snowstorm (for us) with some nice snow days off of work, an ice storm immediately following, and then big puddles from the snow melt and a bunch of rain. Though the temperatures have been warming up, it's a great time to be drinking rich red wines that serve as fantastic alternatives to turning the heat up all the way to the "Comfort Zone" range. At a dinner party we had last night, a friend brought over a Malbec and Cabernet and Ben, after having a small glass, remarked that he forgot how good a nice glass of red wine can be (the beer drinking seems to have erased his memory) in the chilly weather. I was the designated driver and so I didn't try the Argento Malbec, but everyone around the table seemed to thoroughly enjoy it.

And so the Malbec realization and the wine rut realization merged and I've come up with a resolution (a little late, I know) to drink more variety, beyond the usual big reds I like (into France, Italy, Spain, Germany, Mendoza, South Africa, some more of California and Oregon, and finally into some richer white wine territories). And then I want to pick up writing about it again. I know the blog has fallen off a bit lately with work getting busier and busier and my spare time now filled with using my KitchenAid mixer rather than my Waterford decanter. But, I think it's a ridiculously easy resolution on the scale of self-improvement resolutions.

So off into the wine world 2012 I go. Let me know if you have any pressing recommendations or suggestions on how to break out of ruts - a particularly good varietal would suffice!