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,  

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.

Half-priced bottles of wine!

My closest friends and I go out to a fantastic restaurant called Maxwell’s (I know, I’m always writing about it) every Tuesday or Thursday to eat a St. Helen’s BLT with a side of chips or fries, and drink half-priced bottles of wine. We talk about work and friends and what’s on the menu for our next dinner party and generally leave feeling sleepy and full of both food and friends. It is the highlight of my week, to sit under the big sparkling chandelier, a Christmas tree lit up in the window, and drink Merlots or Cabernets from their restaurant Riedels. 

There is something ridiculously fun about ordering a bottle of wine at the table. We get to scan a long wine list, and without labels and without any guidance but tastes in varietal, we pick a bottle that could be completely awful (but never is)… and then, the tasting. I love how the waitress pulls out the cork and places it, wine side up on the table, the deep purple soaked through the cork, covering the vintner’s monogram or little design, and then pours you a tiny sip. I always feel a tiny bit silly swirling my wine around, breathing in the nose, and then tasting that almost warm, always juicy first sip of wine. 

And then wine is poured around the table, swirling through each glass, catching the light, and everyone tastes and comments and usually sighs with post-work-first-glass-of-wine happiness. I don’t know if it’s the community feel this whole ritual, or the fact that it’s a time-honored process that we just inherently know how to do, but I always feel older and wiser and more stable when I’m sitting at the table ordering a bottle of wine.

A couple of weeks ago we ordered an 2009 Owen Roe Sharecropper’s Cabernet Sauvignon  from the Columbia Valley. It was $42 at the restaurant, and then half price, bringing it down to just a bit above the store price ($15 retail) – which is a steal, if you ever buy wine out! The wine was in a squat bottle with a rustic label of a horse pulling a cart and I felt like we should have been in a barn drinking wine on straw bales. The wine was just as lush as the farm notion – full of ripe berries like plum and cherry. The finish was lush with structure and some noticeable tannins. It was a great warm, lush winter wine.

Last night, we went to Maxwell’s and again ordered a bottle – but this time, we tried a Merlot. My friend Whitney, who is also getting into wine, had forwarded me an article about Merlot coming back (after its Sideways-inspired, Yellow Tail-enforced, downfall). I have always been a Merlot fan, but after discovering Cotes-Du-Rhone recently, I hadn’t the heart to drink anything that wasn’t perfectly complex and rustic like the Reserve Perrin Cotes. Luckily, we ended up with a delicious bottle of a Balboa Vineyards 2009 Mirage Vineyard Merlot. It was originally $32 at Maxwell’s and half off, cheaper than the in-store cost ($22 retail). The Merlot was very well balanced, with a fruity bouquet, complimented by some acidity at the end of the sip and a bit of spice to finish the sip. The Merlot was certainly as complex and as enjoyable as the Cabernet, regardless of what silly wine movies say!

I suppose the moral of the story is that good friends, good food, and good restaurants are made even better by good, cheap bottles of wine. I suggest you keep your eye out for a half-priced bottle of wine restaurant and start working your way through an unknown, and unfamiliar, wine list!

What are you drinking for the holidays?

This year will mark my fifth Thanksgiving away from home, my second with Ben's family, and my first Thanksgiving (ever) cooking. This year has been a monumental one, of great and small changes, and it seems only fitting that I'll be starting my own Thanksgiving traditions for it. I started 2011 as a senior in college. In this past year, I graduated from college, attended a graduate program in Denver, was both unemployed and then got a temporary job back at my alma mater. And despite the brief bouts of unemployed panic, and crazy summer budgeting, I'm going to end 2012 employed, with a brand new apartment, and a cat, and enough money saved up to actually pay a few student loan payments before they reposses all of my work clothing as collateral.

 

I expect that 2012 will bring with it even greater changes, but that's a month away and for now, I'm focusing on the holidays. I'm not necessarily a big Thanksgiving person, possibly because I don't eat turkey, don't like green bean casserole, hate yams, and don't care for cranberry sauce, pumpkin pie, and pecan pie... but it marks the onset of my absolute favorite season, holiday, and event of the year: Christmas. So I usually fill my plate with mashed potatoes and stuffing and get ready to dive headfirst into Christmas.

 

 

 

This year, I was unable to restrain myself until the day after Thanksgiving, and so I've already started my decorating and Christmas present shopping. It might be that I have too much free time on the weekends when Ben is studying... but the house looks lovely, cozy and warm and everyone seems to be curling up in the living room more. The house is done up in white lights, wrapped around the french door frame and the curtain rod at the front window. My mantlepiece is covered in vases of different sizes and shapes full of glittery pinecones and Christmas balls. I've already created a centerpiece for the dining room table that will be lovely for Thanskgiving as well - it's a copper wire Christmas tree with little white pearls weaved into the wire intersections, surrounded by gold flecked, antique tea lights. I promise that my Christmas music albums have been left untouched and will only be broken out as soon as I am done with dinner. I can hear Charlie Brown's Christmas in my head, already.

To complete the holiday scene, I've started looking for and buying my Thanksgiving wines. There will be 10 people at our dinner on Thursday afternoon and everyone is bringing a wine to the table which should offer some interesting, if not delicious, picks. Relinquishing control of the wine purchases has been difficult, but I'm trying to let people bring what they like to drink and hope for the best. Safeway currently has an amazing sale on Joel Gott 815 Cabernet Sauvignon (I wrote about it here) marked down from $20 to $13.99. They have all bottles over $20 marked off 30% at our Safeway making everything I usually want to drink for special occassions, very reasonably priced. I bought two bottles of the Joel Gott for the table, as it's one of the best Cabernets I've ever had and is neither too hearty or heavy so as to ruin the palatte for dinner or dessert. I know that cabernets are not often on the Thanksgiving wine list, but I think the cabernet is delicate enough to pair with some of the heartier stuffings and yams on the table. Ben's mom will be bringing up a Pinot Noir from Oregon as well as a local Eugene Riesling (Sweet Cheeks Riesling) for his brother who isn't big into alcohol of any sort unless it tastes like candy. I am going to look for a Prosecco to start the dinner off with (a toasting wine) as I'm not a big fan of champagne. Prosecco is an Italian dry or extra dry sparkling white wine that serves as a great alternative to champagne (especially in quality to price comparisons).

 

What are you drinking for the holidays?

Ode to Gourmet Grocery Stores (and wine, of course!)

We have a gourmet grocery store in Tacoma (and the greater Seattle area) called the Metropolitan Market and it is a magical place where you feel so happy that you empty your wallet on needless things like caramel lace cookies and five dollar creme brule desserts that come with free shaped rammakins. About once every few weeks I need something so obscure that I have to go to the Met to find it - like Japanese rice flour for mochi or coconut milk, instant polentas or pre-made tapenades. And about once every few weeks I walk out of the store with whatever obscure item I needed and about forty dollars poorer.

Because yesterday was a part of one of those weeks, I want to write a mini ode to the Met (and don't worry, their wine selection is included here!). Ben and I consider the store our special occasion/fancy/treat store. If I'm having a bad day, it's inevitable he'll suggest that we go to the Met and get a picture sugar cookie (they're always seasonally or event-themed by shape and coloring - fall leaves, Oscar figurines, peaches). And if we want a fancy 22 oz. beer that we can neither afford nor find anywhere else, it's to the Met for an 9% Black Boss Porter in tiny bottles or a regal looking bottle of unpasteurized Trappist monk-brewed Trippel Ale.

When you first walk into the met you're greeted on the right by pastries, and petit fours, decorated cakes and bursting eclairs. On the left, a whole host of hydrangea flowers and potted orchids with gigantic purple sprays. And directly in front of you: every single kind of bread and cheese you'd ever want. They have plates of cheese for tasting - 26 month Goudas and Asagio Parmesan wheels and giant stinking hunks of french blue cheese. The bread wraps around the cheese like a happy food shawl, rosemary breads and little loaves stuffed with garlic - all for about $4-6 a loaf and baked fresh. It's a scary place to walk around in when you're hungry.

After winning some money from a wine contest I entered on Snooth.com (yay!) and deciding to celebrate with... well, wine, we went into the Met to get some cheese to pair with it. They have this amazing little basket in the cheese section where they throw the ends or irregular cuts of their cheese loaves. And you can get a great piece of cheese to try for $1-3. We ended up picking out an English White Cheddar, that 26 month aged Gouda, a French Raclette (a soft cheese that was a bit stronger than brie), and finally an Emmental (a cheese from Switzerland). We added to that the Met's marinated mushrooms and a loaf of French bread and then a wine I'd bought there a while back and hadn't had a chance to drink.

I had been hearing great things about the 2009 Perrin & Fils Côtes du Rhône Reserve and, eager to branch my wine tastes into France a bit, had picked it up. I was worried that the wine would be a bit too spicy and rustic for my tastes, but after opening it up and drinking it next to all of these fantastic cheeses, I fell in love. This wine, for about $10.99 at the Met (it ranges from $9-$15), was everything you'd want in a pairing wine. It went well with cheese, and the salmon I later had for dinner, but I can see it as being a delicious addition to a pork meal as well. The wine smelled extremely peppery and acidic, but the bouquet softened considerably when I actually drank it. Though the pepper and spice remained a prominent feature of the wine, the tannins were smooth and the wine was hardly acidic at all. The finish was remarkably smooth for such a spicy wine. I would highly, highly recommend this wine, especially as a great initiation into the Côtes du Rhône region.

A Wine Rut

I've been in a wine rut lately. I have all of these great plans to buy a half-case of some wines I've been dying to try, but I keep putting it off, paycheck after paycheck. I even have three bottles on my nightstand that need to be opened, and yet, I just don't feel like drinking them. I'm not sure why I've felt so stuck, but I think it might have to do with not having wine on hand that I particularly want to try. I'm hesitant about the 2009 Reserve Perrin Cotes Du Rhone I currently have, because I'm worried it'll be too spicy and rustic for my tastes, though I know that it got great reviews. The other two wines I have are beautiful salmon colored Roses that it's neither cool enough or sunny enough to open. 

And so the other day, the only thing that got me to hold a glass of wine in my hand was a surprise bottle. Ben ran out on an errand to the other day and brought a 2009 Gabbiano Chianti Classico ($8.99) because it was cheap and he really loves Anthony Hopkins films. I promptly distrusted his judgement and the idea that a drug-store had a wine buyer, and was worried that the wine wouldn't pair with anything but human skin. When I googled it, the first result said that "Gabbiano Classico Chianti is...the Heinekin of Chianti." Well, at least the wine wasn't in a straw bottle.

 

And then I tried the wine with some dal curry, on a cold night, and it was an extremely drinkable, basic table red. Though the first sip was a bit sharp and the tannins harsh, after a few minutes, the wine rounded out nicely. The best sip was full of warm plum flavors with a smooth, full-bodied finish. The bouquet had mineral notes, which added to the body of the wine very nicely. I was expecting something a little more rustic in this wine than what we tasted. Instead the wine was full bodied and warm, without being sharp. It went well with a movie and some curry and I'd definitely buy it again to pair with just about anything.

This being said, I need some suggestions. Some pairings, some great recommendations, some mind-blowing (and cheap) bottles that will make me want to dash to the store and pick up a bottle or two. If you have any, let me know! In the meantime, I'll try to find some inspiration in this really amazing chart from the NY Times with suggestions of great wines under $12. Check it out: http://www.nytimes.com/interactive/2011/10/02/magazine/02-winechart.html

Happy Hour: Wine Edition

I think that the worst part about being under 21 is that you don't know about, can't enjoy, and aren't invited to happy hour. I think it just might be the holy grail of the twenties. I've certainly spent enough time pursuing half-off appetizers and dirt cheap well drinks, that it could be some sort of religious calling for me. 

Not only have they occupied many a weeknight, happy hours have ruined the full-price dinner for me completely. I find it increasingly difficult to eat at regular restaurants (why are these fries $7 and not $3.50? why are these sliders $3 a piece instead of $1?). And bar drinks are a similar story. It's just not worth it to go out to drink when a mojito costs $9-11 dollars and contains somewhere between half a shot and one ounce of rum. It's even harder when you order a glass of wine, at $8-$12 a glass, you might as well go buy the bottle of wine for $7.99 at a Safeway down the street and drink it in the parking lot. It'd probably save time and money. Wine is the last thing I would order out at a bar and it also seems to be the one thing Happy Hour still can't knock down to a reasonable price. 

I was reading an article in the Wall Street Journal about demystifying the exorbitant mark-ups of wine in restaurants and I feel a bit more clued in about the insane mark-up for glasses of wine. Bottles are another story. The article reasoned that, based on a host of restaurants around New York, that the average restaurant marks up their bottles of wine 300%. Read: a jug of Yellow Tail Chardonnay would be $24 in a restaurant. Yellow Tail aside, it makes great, affordable wines, completely ridiculous to purchase ($30+ for a Chateau Ste. Michelle Pinot Gris? Not tonight). And that's just the bottle price. That same Yellow Tail Chardonnay, in a glass instead of a bottle, would cost $6-$7... or, the exact price of a jug of that wine in grocery stores. 

It upsets me to say this, but this price insanity is actually driven by logic. When a customer orders that glass of Yellow Tail Chardonnay, the bottle must be opened and a small amount of the wine poured out. Once opened, the wine's shelf life drops rapidly (two to three days, at the most). If no one else walks into that restaurant and also orders a glass of that white wine, then the bottle is ruined and the restaurant will immediately face a loss. Hence the mark-up. That one glass had better at least help the restauranteer break even...

With this all being said, I was skeptical when a colleague at work suggested a place that had half-off bottles of wine on Tuesday and Thursday nights. Without a wine list and wine prices published online (this helps restaurants protect themselves from snooping customers looking to determine which wines are marked up the most, as well as snooping competitors gauging how much they can sell their wine for), and never having ordered a bottle of wine at a restaurant, I decided to try it out. When I arrived there for a late-night happy hour with friends, the place (Maxwell's) looked closed, but pushing open the door, we were greeted by an intimate restaurant with a glittering chandelier and a crackling fire. The bar was small and though it wasn't crowded, almost everyone had a bottle of wine at their table and a whole host of the appetizers that were also half-off. The wine list was large and exciting. Most of the bottles were ones I hadn't heard of and hadn't seen in store. Even better... they had bottles of wine under $30. And at the happy hour special, those wines were half-off. Such a major discount actually brought the marked-up wines down to a reasonable price, normally a dollar or two over the price in stores.

I ordered a 2010 Leyda Pinot Noir Classic from Chile ($13.99 retail, $15 with the happy hour discount at Maxwells). The wine was absolutely beautiful in color, a sparkling bright burgundy that was so clear that you could see the light reflecting in and out of the glass. It was very full of berry notes for a Pinot Noir, but it maintained the softness and lightness of some of the great Willamette Valley Pinot Noirs. The bouquet was sweet and reminded me of a Riesling or a sweeter white wine. The front notes were of berries, notably blackberries and strawberry and the sweetness developed into a smooth and minerally finish, with a hint of spice. The wine lingered, but only delicately, and it showed no heaviness or jammy-ness of some of the other less expensive Pinot Noirs I've tried. I would definitely recommend this wine and the restaurant (and I suppose the entire notion of happy hour) for both beating my expectations and god-awful wine list mark-ups.

Summer's Last Stand

This week marked the last week of summer here in Washington. Though the past few weeks of sun and above-70 degree temperatures seemed out of the ordinary, it's hard to welcome the 50-60 degree misting and grey skies that mark the onslaught of Washington's fallwinterspring season. The bright side is pumpkin flavored treats, a rekindled interest in drinking tea, and the chunky sweaters that can be brought out of storage and worn again.

Inspired by foodgawker.com's end-of-summer everything-peaches recipes and our local gourmet grocery store's Peach-O-Rama month, I planned on making a peach and brie quesadilla with peach salsa and drinking a Pinot Grigio/Gris as a pairing. Unfortunately, I decided to have a lemon drop (or two) between dicing up peaches and ended up forgetting about the Pinot Gris I'd bought entirely. Tipsy and covered in melted brie, I ended up saving the wine for a time when my palate wasn't completely destroyed by Absolut Citron and sugared martini glass rims. The peach quesadillas were delicious though, and I'd recommend giving them a try if you still have great peach prices in the store (they're still 99 cents a pound in Safeway).

Peachy rambling aside, I ended up rediscovering my 2009 Chateau Ste. Michelle Pinot Gris ($8.99) this week and thoroughly enjoyed it regardless of my criminally terrible pairing (a brown rice make-shift Yumm bowl). This Pinot Gris embodied everything I love about a good Pinot Gris: a beautiful oaky-yellow color, a fruity and floral bouquet without being sweet, and a dry finish that made the wine seem almost sparkling. Though Ben swore that he couldn't smell the notes of the bouquet (he'd been cooking onions), it distinctly smelled of pears. The finish was oaky and well-rounded with lingering notes of pear. Though we paired it horribly, I'd suggest seafood with this wine. The Wine Enthusiast awarded this Pinot Gris 88 points and it's well worth every single one. If you're a fan of dryer Pinot Gris (this wine is definitely dryer than the Columbia Crest Two Vines Pinot Gris I tried the other day), this is the perfect, well-priced wine for you.

I know that I'm constantly trying Washington wines, often from Chateau Ste. Michelle, but this winery never seems to disappoint and I often find that their wines are not only the best value but embody the best characteristics of the varietals. If you're in-need of a good wine and don't have time to hunt around the wine aisle, head to Washington wines and pick up a Chateau Ste. Michelle wine.

As a deviation from my normal wine writing, I feel compelled to share with you the above-mentioned lemon drop recipe as it turned my summer lemon-centric and turned some dull parties into great ones:

Absolut Lemon Drops
3 shots Absolut Citron
1 shot Triple Sec
Juice of 1/2 lemon
Sugar

In a large shaker combine ice, 3 shots of Absolut Citron, 1 shot of Triple Sec (increase or decrease depending on your desired sweetness level), the juice of half a lemon (again, modify depending on your tastes). Sugar the rims of two martini glasses, shake, and pour. And then beware, these lemon drops are extremely strong.

To Mendoza, Argentina

Besides near-constant ironing and waking up at 6:45 am every morning, I've realized that being a grown up means trying to have sophisticated, really delicious, super-successful dinner parties where everyone looks put together. Though the imperative word in that sentence is trying, I think that slowly but surely, we're getting closer to that goal (we've even started to like goat cheese!). The other night, I needed an occasion to drink a Bonarda I'd bought while in Oregon this summer, and so a dinner party was invented. Caitlin and Whitney, two close friends of mine that also graduated this past May and are also out in the work force, spent a day at the farmer's market finding great local food for our dinner. They ended up bringing fresh squash and zuccini (later sauteed in olive oil and spices), chevre and hot raspberry jam (all made fresh by local vendors), bright red tomatoes and cucumbers, and fresh rosemary bread that we dippied in olive oil and balsalmic. They also brought "The Show" Malbec from Mendoza, Argentina and a white wine (Stiegerebbe) made and sold locally by Stina Cellars. I made fresh corn on the cob, added a Colonia Las Liebres Bonarda, and made a great, simple dessert (vanilla ice cream covered in toasted coconut and fresh lime juice). Maria, one of our housemates, contributed goat cheese stuffed mushrooms that were absolutely to die for and some Cupcake wine. The evening is probably best summed up by a photo of the appetizers spread... but the wine deserves a more in-depth look.

In some kind of miraculous telepathy, Caitlin and I were on the same page in terms of wine. We'd both bought and brought a wine from Mendoza, Argentina and both of them went remarkably well with the goat cheese and pepper raspberry jam. The first wine we opened was the 2009 Colonia Las Liebres Bonarda by Altos Las Hormigas, a gorgeous bottle of I bought for only $8.99 at Sundance Wine Cellars in Oregon. It was an amazing deal and one of the best new reds I'd tried in a while. This wine was very different than many I've tried but had many of the same spicy, deep qualities of a Malbec. I picked up some cherry and plum followed by spicier notes of pepper and finished with structured tannins, giving it a rustic feel. If my ranting is not enough to convince you, this wine recieved 89 points from the Wine Spectator and frequents the magazine's great values lists. The Bonarda grape, a varietal I hadn't heard of before, is actually an Italian grape that was the most prominent grape grown in Argentina.

The second wine we tried was a 2009 The Show Malbec from Trinchero Family Estates that was also sourced in Mendoza, Argentina. I've recently started to enjoy Malbecs, after getting used to the heavier and spicier flavors that they're known for. This wine was about $10 and Caitlin bought it at Target (it's accesible!), and with such a flashy and interesting label, it's hard not to instantly love. It was a really great deal for so flavorful and full-bodied a Malbec. This wine opened with some deep fruit flavors of blackberry and plum that led into a spicier and softer finish characterized by notes of vanilla, and pepper, with smooth tannins to finish the sip. I loved this wine with our fresh dinner spread and thought it was also a good wine to follow the Bonarda, as it introduced some fruiter and lusher notes to counteract the spice of the previous wine.

 

 

It's worth it to mention that this tea-light decorated, fresh-food populated, and all around lovely evening developed rather quickly into playing rounds of Catch Phrase inbetween ingenius whisky, coffee, and whipped cream shots and everyone had a headache in the morning. So... I suppose the college hasn't quite been taken out of us yet.

Mutiny on the Bounty - The Pinot Noir Edition

This summer it became generally decided in the house that Pinot Noir was the thing to drink, no matter the weather or the occasion, and it would be drunk no matter who (me) didn't care for the varietal. My opposition and my wallet had blocked a large amount of the Pinot purchasing, but when I left for Denver, it was a mutinous scene. I suppose that it makes sense, as we were in Oregon, smack dab in the Willamette Valley, and hence in the center of the Pinot Noir world. And against my preconcieved notions about the grape (I'll just say it: jammy, unbalanced, etc.), five bottles of Pinot Noir later, and I'm happy to announce that I'm a Pinot Noir convert.

I think that the epiphany moment, and I know it doesn't fit the cheap motif of this blog, occurred when I had a $32 2009 Bethel Heights Estate Grown Pinot Noir. It was a summer weight Pinot Noir, thereby unconvincing me of the jammy and overdone notes I'd tasted in some of previous wines. The Bethel Heights Pinot Noir, grown near Salem, Oregon, was and will probably remain, my favorite Pinot Noir. It was so perfectly balanced, with a hint of cherries and plum on the nose that drew lightly along my tongue. It finished with perfect smoothness, the taste of raspberries and soft tannins.

Excited by this Pinot Noir, I both searched for and stumbled upon some great, cheap Pinot Noirs. Though it's a commonly held belief in Oregon that buying a Pinot under $20 is a great travesty, I beg to differ. I actually think that it's one of the wines that isn't terrible at a cheap price. Without heavy tannins like a Cabernet, there is little risk of uncomfortable sharpness to the wine, and without a tendency toward sweetness (like some Merlots), the wine doesn't ever verge into being sickly sweet. Because I have tried so many and I have also misplaced my tasting notebook in the move from Oregon to Washington, I will briefly go over some of the more affordable glasses I had. If you're not in the mood for shelling out $30+ for a bottle of wine, then read on. If you are... you've got my recommendation already.

2009 Robert Mondavi Private Selection Pinot Noir (California)- I had this wine on two occasions and on one, I absolutely loved it. On the second, I thought that it lacked some balance and some of the finesse of other Pinot Noirs I'd tried. Ben, however, loves this one. I think this Pinot might be the heaviest Pinot Noir I tried, thick with berries and spice throughout the glass. If you're looking for a cheap table wine and you like Pinot Noir, this is a good deal. You can find it for $8-$10.

2009 Eola Hills Pinot Noir (Willamette Valley) - Not only does this bottle look rather snazzy, the wine inside is excellent. This is certainly my favorite Pinot Noir of the cheap list. It's a bit more expensive than the rest, but with the extra few dollars comes a great flavor and balance. Notes of cherry and berries with soft tannins on the finish. This wine captured the best elements of a Pinot Noir. $15-$20.

2009 Lindeman's Bin 99 Pinot Noir (Australia) - For the price, $6.99-7.99, this wine was a great deal. It was light and drinkable, with soft fruit and spice notes complimenting each other, this Pinot Noir wasn't overwhelming. Ben felt it was a bit minerally for him, but I enjoyed it better than the Mondavi when I first tried them side to side. For $6.99, though, it's hard to regret the purchase.

 

 

2009 Castle Rock Pinot Noir (Bottled in California, sourced in the Columbia Valley) - Though the bouquet was sweet and jammy, the wine definitely was not. Notes of cherry and currant, followed by a smooth finish with subtle tannins. A full-bodied Pinot Noir that was an entirely drinkable, food wine. It lacked the balance of a more expensive bottle, as the front end was light and the back end heavy. A great deal! On sale for $7.99 though listed at $11.99.

A Brave New World

I’m back in Oregon, after a very quick month at the Denver Publishing Institute, and it’s nice to be in a place that has clouds and living grass. Though my days, for the past three weeks, have been filled with fruitless job searching/applying/begging, I did arrive home to my birthday gifts: two Riedel wine glasses and two coupons for the wine(s) of my choice. My excessively heavy suitcases still in the car, my boyfriend and I stopped by Fred Meyer to find a New World wine (either a cabernet sauvignon or merlot) that would best compliment my new glasses. We settled on a bottle of Joel Gott 815 Cabernet Sauvingon from California. Because it was a special occasion and Ben had been so generous (naïve?) as to put a $20 per bottle ceiling on the wine coupon, I splurged… well, I guess he splurged. I had this wine last Thanksgiving with my family, at the recommendation of a local wine shop, Grapes, in Hawaii, and I’d remembered it as being extremely good. I suppose that writing that $16.99 for a bottle of wine is a splurge affirms my current income-less state, but this wine even tastes spendy. 

In order to prove that my recent wine accoutrement accumulation was worth it, I taste-tested this wine with a various cast of glasses and with and without my aerator. I first tasted the wine in a small wine glass not designed to enhance a red wine; second, I then aerated it in that same glass and tasted it; and third, I aerated the wine and drank from the new glasses. The difference was extremely noticeable. The first glass left something to be desired. I felt as if the wine needed to be swirled in the glass or left open on the counter so that the bouquet could open. The wine tasted too simple for a cabernet. After aerating the wine, in the second step, the nose was distinct with scents of cherry, and the tannins were stronger upon the swallow. When I used my new glasses, specifically designed for cabernets, the wine tasted exactly as a cabernet should. It opened with a light taste of cherry and was followed by notes of cedar (the cedar notes were made evident only in the final test). The long finish was extremely smooth with structured tannins and a hint of acidity.

Though I went through this tasting process, this wine never tasted too sharp or undeveloped. I'm pretty sure that it'd taste great even in a coffee mug as long as you let it breathe for a bit. This wine was exceptionally smooth and embodied the best elements of a cabernet—full-bodied, hints of berry and with noticeable tannins on the long finish. The bouquet and mouth-feel were much more complex than a merlot, but the smoothness and light notes of fruit made it much more drinkable than a zinfandel or even a malbec. So if you have any hesitations about this varietal, give the Joel Gott a try and you'll be an instant convert. I'd recommend this wine to everyone and anyone. 

Have any suggestions for a wine to taste, try and love? Leave me a comment and I’ll see what I can do!

Getting close to Woop Woop!

I have not been particularly enamored with Denver, Colorado. When expressing my skepticism to a fellow Publishing Institute student, he chuckled and knowingly assured me that I just hadn’t been to the mountains yet... Clearly, he has no idea who I am. Concerned that the only promising thing about this city was the “mountains,” (wherever those are, I have no intention of finding out) I was plunged into a deeper dejection than before. Luckily I discovered the University of Denver area gem: Morgan's Liquor, an insanely well-stocked store with a massive wine selection. The wine section inside was a sight for very sore eyes (Denver supermarkets don't sell any alcohol above 3.2%). Not only were there full casts from Germany, Portugal and Chile, but almost every single bottle came with a recommendation. Some were vivid orange tags that read: “SALE! GREAT PINOT” and the rest either a winery’s own advertisement tag or official Wine Spectator tasting notes and notable reviews/scores/points. It is a wonder I didn’t keep my suite-mates in there longer as I scoured for wines without “leathery notes.”

I settled on two wines, both with screw caps instead of corks. I rarely buy screw cap wine so I don’t know if it was the lack of a corkscrew + fulcrum opener, the static electricity building in the air or just a burning desire to try some new wines that drove me to this cork-less madness, but I was not disappointed. Clearly a screw cap does preclude a bottle from containing a quality wine! It was the 2009 Woop Woop Cabernet ($10.99) from Australia that I tried first. I have been waiting to try this wine for a long time, endeared by the name and a history of rave reviews. The name Woop Woop, comes from the colloquial Australian phrase for “out there” and seemed apropos as we drank the wine in the middle of a raging lightning storm happening directly over us. This wine was one of the fruitiest Cabernet Sauvignons I have had in a while. This Cabernet was remarkably fruit forward, tasting of cherry. The finish was long, rich and smooth. I was left with the remains of fruit and silky tannins to remember the glass by. A friend that tasted it with me told me with hesitation that she’d been put off of red wine because of “too much Smoking Loon,” but I am happy to say that one glass of the Woop Woop and she was instantly brought back. For only $10.99, this wine was remarkably full-bodied and memorable. I'd also recommend checking out the rest of Woop Woop's varietals. Too scared of Shiraz to try their highly acclaimed Shiraz, I'll leave the task up to you!

I was surprised to see that this wine was called, simply, “Cabernet” instead of either Cabernet Sauvignon or Cabernet Franc (a confusing abbreviation), but it turns out it’s just a rather Australian shortening of Cabernet Sauvignon. This grape is one of the most diversely grown and well-known grapes in the world and until the 1990s it was the most widely planted grape. Merlot, another one of my favorites, surpassed it in production.

Stay tuned for more screw cap tasting when I try a La Yunta Tinto from Argentina next!

The Great Denver Travesty

My lack of wine-blogging lately has started to take a mental toll (let's not use the word "withdrawal") and even though I am eating Spongebob Mac and Cheese out of a mug right now instead of drinking a nice red wine, I can’t go another day without writing a post. This sorry picture, luckily, is due to extenuating circumstances and not due to a post-grad recession into childhood. I’m actually living in a dorm in Denver, Colorado while I attend the University of Denver Summer Publishing Institute, a month long course designed to give students a jump-start into the publishing world.

Denver is an interesting place. It’s dry, hot, stormy and many of the lawns seem to be un-mowed in the surrounding area. But the weird weather and lack of yard maintenance quickly became the least of my worries. Car-less, I walked to the Safeway yesterday in the middle of a thunder and lightning storm to buy some groceries and a bottle of wine. However, I was horrified at what I found: no. wine. aisle. There were no cheerful signs advertising the California merlots, no scant section of “Imports,” not even the familiar gleam of the hardly-drinkable Yellow Tail populating the end-of-aisle display. It was, by far, the greatest supermarket travesty I have yet to experience. As it turns out, Denver only sells 3.2% beers (read: not worth it) in grocery stores… A horrifying prospect but a reality. So until I can find a liquor store in the sweaty, 90-degree weather, I must go without. My stem-less red wine glass is sitting alone in a drawer, my corkscrew without a cork, my palate without the gentle caress of well-rounded tannins, my teeth without the telltale sign of too much red wine!

Instead I am left to recommend to you a wine that I know and love and can only dream of ingesting right now: the 2009 Bogle Petite Sirah ($8.99-$9.99 in most grocery stores). I’m not normally a fan of Syrah/Shiraz* but this varietal, though it sounds like a small Syrah, is entirely different in taste and partially different in origin. The Petite Sirah, as it is known in the U.S., is made from the Durif grape, a cross between a Syrah and a Peloursin grape. Though the origin of the Petite Sirah is linked to the Syrah grape, I find it to be a much more drinkable wine. I can drink the Petite Sirah with absolutely anything, whether it is a light salad or a heartier, spicier meal. The wine is full-bodied without being overpowering, with a smooth combination of fruit and oak. The finish contains a hint of the spiciness for which the Shiraz and Syrah wines are known. I actually went through a period in which I drank only this Petite Sirah because I just couldn't entrust my $10 to any other, potentially bad bottle of wine. When my recycling bin started to look like a wine bar's glass disposal,  was forced to branch out into more untrustworthy wines. I still drink this wine when I'm feeling unadventurous and need a good bottle to accompany my night. At under $10 a bottle, it is an amazing buy!

*Like Pinot Gris/Pinot Grigio, Syrah usually means that the wine is from the French Rhone Valley and is a lighter, more acidic wine. Shiraz suggests a more full bodied wine from Australia. When the wine is made in the U.S., then the name suggests what flavor you can expect from the wine, according to the previous distinctions.

Spanish Table Wines - Exploring the Tempranillo grape

Breaking out of my West Coast wine persuasion, I bought a Spanish wine the other night at Kiva, the quintessential Eugene, Oregon health-food store. Including their aisle of beeswax products and a line of patchouli-scented everything, they have a great wine selection. Nearly every single bottle comes with a recommendation or, at the least, an index card covered in tasting notes. What was supposed to be a quick trip turned into an hour’s worth of reading and selecting a wine. I finally settled on a 2008 Protocolo Tinto (a traditional red table wine from Spain made of 100% Tempranillo grapes). At only $7.99 I wasn’t sure what to expect, but the rave reviews from the Kiva staff seemed recommendation enough. It turned out to be a delicious wine and a really great deal. The wine was medium-bodied which made it perfect for drinking before, with and after dinner. Without being sweet, the Protocolo was fruit-forward with hints of berry and the finish was smooth. Though I had my wine with fresh pesto on penne pasta and a side salad of fresh tomatoes, I would have loved it paired with lasagna or a red sauce on pasta. I'd definitely recommend giving this wine a try (especially at such a low price).

Happy with the Protocolo Tinto, I picked up another tempranillo at Fred Meyer, a Vintage 2009 Tapeña Tempranillo ($8.99) from Spain. The Tapeña, however, had a totally different taste. Opening up the bottle, the cork came out dripping with bright purple wine which turned out to be indicative of the bright, juicy taste. It smelled faintly of berries and the taste was even sweeter. The most noticeable flavor was of strawberry, followed by a smooth fruity finish. I had this wine before dinner and then after dinner so as to avoid overpowering the wine with my meal. For those less inclined to sweeter, fruiter wines but still interested in trying this Spanish grape, I would recommend the Protocolo Tinto. But if you’re in the market for a sweeter red and a fun summer wine then give the Tapeña a try!

Having never tried a wine made from tempranillo grapes before and finding myself stumbling over the pronunciation, I did a little bit of research about the grape. The traditional Spanish grape (there are only tiny amounts of it in Oregon and California) has a short growing season, ripens early and prefers a colder climate. According to the Tapeña website, tempranillo is pronounced “temp-rah-NEE-yo” and is considered (by their winery at least) as “Pinot Noir in blue jeans.” This isn't surprising given that the tempranillo wines I tried had a strong fruit aroma and taste, yet lacked the spicy, earthy flavors that Pinot Noir is known for.

Keep reading, as I’ll be tasting the 2006 Lan Rioja Crianza next!