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.

Warm afternoons and beautiful wines

Wine makes daily living easier, less hurried, with fewer tensions and more tolerance - Benjamin Franklin

Though I have three bottles of wine sitting in various locations about the house (an Italian Verdicchio in the fridge, an Argentinean Bonarda next to the microwave, and a beautiful French Rosé in a brown paper bag underneath the bed), I thought I would write today about shopping for wine. I normally buy wine in the grocery store, a mission secondary to actual grocery shopping, and the experience is often cold, both literally and figuratively. In Fred Meyer, the wine section is sandwiched between refrigerated cases of Miller Genuine Draft and a shelving unit that offers both jugs of Carlo Rossi and donut holes. A far cry from the hills worth of grapes, warm glasses drunk by candlelight, and dashing European men we envision when we think about our ideal wine experience. The grocery store, instead, makes picking out a wine rather impersonal—rows of chilly bottles stare indiscriminately at you and it’s very rare that one jumps out and says buy me.  

And so, a few days ago, I had the rare and lovely experience of stumbling upon a beautiful wine store. Tucked into an odd part of town I rarely visit, next to a bookstore and a burrito place, was Sundance Wine Cellars. Walking in, I was struck by the bright room, filled with afternoon light… and then I noticed the aisles worth of wine. An employee that greeted me warned me not to get overwhelmed, as if it was a common ailment that happened to all wine lovers that came inside. And it turned out to be a very good warning as I found myself instantly lost and rather stricken in the rows and rows of beautiful bottles. In bright, unfinished wood boxes, the wines beckoned quietly. I found myself wandering through wine displays as if I was traveling through appellations and I couldn’t stop myself from touching the bottles. There were wines I knew and loved well, but there were so many that I’d never even heard of, and so the experience became one totally centered on traveling through this library of wine, instead of shivering in the center of an unhappy aisle.

In a happy wine bliss (and with two new wines to try), I had the good fortune to stumble upon an even more awe-inspiring wine shopping experience. Tucked in a tiny little room in downtown Eugene is a store called Authentica Wines. The high step into the store made me feel as if I was climbing into a new world. Against the wall were beautiful wine posters, one in black and white of a woman, a wine glass casting a shadow along her back, and along the floor were little crates full of wine. Inside the bright wood boxes were bottles of wine nestled in straw. Little pedestals and wrought-iron tables held tiny collections of bottles that glistened in the afternoon light filtering in high windows. White strands of Christmas lights hung lazily on the walls and around displays, giving the room an air of understated festivity—as if shopping for wine was a holiday in itself. And on each bottle, the proprietor had written the prices in a silver pen, barely noticeable, but so remarkably thoughtful that I couldn’t help but notice. As the proprietor recommended me a Rosé (the most beautiful Rosé I have ever seen), I noticed that every single wine in the store was beautiful in itself. There were no gaudy pictures, no harsh colors, no vivid or jagged lettering on the labels, only absolutely stunning bottles of wine.

I left the store with my heart tight. There is quite possibly nothing I love more than beautiful things, except maybe wine—and this store brought the two together. I suppose that I am trying to suggest that wine shopping should, unless in the case of a dire emergency, be a beautiful perusal instead of a harried, chilly grocery shopping experience. Most cities, wine-enlightened or not, have wine or liquor boutiques where buyers take great time to know the wine merchants, growers, and drinkers. And those buyers take time to find wines that you’ll love. It makes an amazing difference. So find a wine boutique or wine store close to you and support someone who loves wine just as much as you do.