Mouthing Off

Alvaro Palacios is everywhere these days—even in the movies! Well, sort of. The undisputed star of modern Spanish winemaking appears in F&W’s April issue at a party in Manhattan’s new City Winery. Then, when I was watching the recently released DVD of Woody Allen’s Vicky Cristina Barcelona, I saw that Allen thanked Palacios in the credits. (I almost missed it, distracted as I was by thoughts of how I might come back in another life as the stunning Penélope Cruz). This makes sense: It seemed that every character in every scene was holding, swishing or sipping a glass of wine. As it turns out, the film’s producers, who are Catalan, approached Palacios about using his wines. He obliged. Palacios’s bottlings, especially those from the Priorat region in Catalonia, are some of Spain’s finest. His Finca Dofí (a Grenache- and Cabernet-based blend) and his Les Terrasses (which combines Carignane and Grenache with a touch of Cabernet and Syrah) are both featured prominently in the film. He also supplied wines from Bierzo, in northwest Spain, as well as a couple of Riojas. In return for all of this fabulous vino, which I can only imagine the actors savored (and for which Palacios supposedly received no payment), he was invited to attend the Spanish premier. Who got the better deal?

I'm on my way to World of Pinot Noir-yes, there really is such a thing-and so hope to return next week with a bushelful of worthwhile Pinot recommendations. In the meantime here's a roundup of entertaining wine reading. Over at Slate, Mike Steinberger (who writes for F&W now and then) weighs in on America's obsession with red wine being good for us; up in Toronto, they're pondering the fact that apparently more than 1,000 U.S. wineries are expected to change ownership by 2018 or so; Tom Wark at Fermentation has announced the winners of the American Wine Blog Awards; and France's Minister of Health wants to muzzle wine writers (says Lebanon's The Daily Star, by way of Agence Presse France).

I, for one, know that I would look very funny trying to sip wine while wearing a muzzle.

A little France vs. California match-up for the weekend, for no good reason other than that the wines were in our tasting room, they were good, and writing about them seemed like the thing to do. So nice to have one's purpose in life be so clear, right?

From California, the 2006 Clos LaChance Estate Grenache ($30) has a striking scent of violets and wild berries—really intense aromatics that give way to juicy blackberry fruit and a little black pepper on the finish. 

Then, heading down the coast, there's the 2007 Jorian Hill BEEspoke ($45), an oddball name for a potent and stylishly made 50/50 blend of Grenache and Syrah from a newish winery in the Santa Ynez Valley. It suggested smoky purple berries with a hint of wild game in the nose, then ripe, dense, berry-driven fruit with what I wrote down as a "lasting boowangy end." I have no idea what the heck I meant, though it still seems like the right thing to have written.(NB, the wine is not shown on the website, but I imagine if you called up they'd tell you how to find it.)

From France, that other country, I came across two affordable and impressive southern French reds. The 2007 Domaine de Cascavel In Fine Rouge ($14), a blend of 90% Grenache and 10% Syrah from the Côtes du Ventoux, has the classic wild herb scent of garrigue, with blackberry and cocoa notes and a juicy but firm texture.

Then, also from the Côtes du Ventoux, I was impressed by the 2007 Mas du Fadan Rouge ($13), black-purple in hue, with dusty pepper and floral notes, and a fleshy, low-acid structure that somehow still held together all of its dark, plummy fruit. It comes from a small vineyard
naturally fertilized by goats, and the property's name, fadan, means someone who has been touched by the fairies or lost their mind. Happens to me all the time.

I grew up in a family that believed in saving special (fancy) things for special occasions. Makeup and hairspray came out only for proms or weddings. The good china and crystal made an appearance once a year, at Christmas dinner. Trashy-yet-delicious candy, like Reese's peanut butter cups and Almond Joys, were only allowed in Halloween bags or Easter baskets and were thus battled over between siblings and either gobbled all at once or stashed away for safe keeping. Because of this, I've become a wine hoarder. Not just the great bottles, like cult Napa cabs and rare Brunellos, but really anything over $50 gets stored in my wine fridge or sent home to my mom's basement (my temporary wine cellar) to be saved for the perfect occasion. And the result is that the occasion is never perfect enough.

That's why I adore Open That Bottle Night. The "holiday" was created 10 years ago by husband-and-wife Dorothy Gaiter and John Brecher, who write the Wall Street Journal's wine column Tastings. In a nutshell, their motto is, Why wait? Drink it now. Drink it with friends. I'll be snowboarding with friends in Vermont this OTBN, Saturday February 28, and my ’03 Chateau Smith Haut Lafitte Grand vin de Graves and my ‘97 Kendall Jackson Stature Cab will be perfect for après-ski drinking.

Anyone else holding on to a special bottle, I urge you to open it this Saturday with friends. Host your own party or join one of these others going on around the country.

Wells Guthrie at Copain is primarily known for his impressive single-vineyard Pinot Noirs and Syrahs, most of which are quite small production and, while not crazily expensive, not exactly cheap either. For a while he made a series of affordable wines under the Saison des Vin label, but as he told me today, that mostly just confused people—they didn't know whether the wines were from Copain or not, who was making them, or what they were, exactly. So he's renamed his affordable line Copain "Tous Ensemble," and narrowed it into a set of three regionally designated varietal wines. I tasted them today, and they pretty much blew me away in terms of quality for price (this may be partly because he uses some of the fruit from his single-vineyard sources in the cuvées).

The 2007 Copain Viognier Tous Ensemble Mendocino ($20) is fermented entirely in stainless steel, which shows in its bright, crisp, lightly minerally fruit and almost prickly (in a good way) end. It smells of just-ripe nectarines, and, like all three of these, is made from organically grown grapes.

Then there's the 2007 Copain Tous Ensemble Pinot Noir Anderson Valley ($30), which I thought was remarkably good—tasting it blind, you'd assume this was a single-vineyard bottling at about $20 more a bottle. It has a sweetly floral, raspberry-strawberry aroma; lithe yet saturated fruit (again, ripe raspberry/strawberry in character) that really fills the mouth, a hint of rhubarb and a citrusy tang on the end. 

Finally, the 2007 Copain Tous Ensemble Syrah Mendocino ($20) offers balanced but substantial mocha-plum-blackberry flavors, a nose that suggests smoked meat and fragrant berries, and a grippy but appealing tannic finish. Off the top of my head, I can't think of a better $20 wine for a good steak that I've had recently. 

These wines aren't wildly limited, but they aren't in huge supply either. Probably the best way to track them down is to contact the winery, though wine-searcher.com is always a good option as well. I was also impressed (as usual) with Guthrie's single-vineyard wines, but I'll keep them for a later post; better to start the weekend with a few good bargains.

Not long ago I was in New Zealand, and got a chance to visit a number of winemakers in the Martinborough region. Martinborough has a simple problem—it sounds a lot like Marlborough, the much larger and more well-known region on the South Island that provides the template for New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Consequently people get them confused.

So, a quick Martinborough primer. It's on the North Island, though it's the southernmost wine region on that island. Various wines are produced there, but the region's strength is Pinot Noir; along with Central Otago, it's one of the best Pinot zones in the country. And it's tiny, less than three percent of New Zealand's total wine growing area.

[More]

I suppose you could spring for the usual rosé Champagne or box of fancy chocolates, but why not a bottle of Burgundy instead? I can't think of any good reason. Also, I was at the Frederick Wildman Burgundy portfolio dinner at WD-50 the other night, where I was filled with poppin-fresh Burgundy info (also with chef Wylie Dufresne's rather odd squab with butternut-squash noodles and cream soda gelée).

If the love of your life likes white, one option is to ditch him or her and find someone who likes red; another, possibly less traumatic, would be to pick up a bottle of the 2005 Domaine Christian Moreau Valmur Grand Cru Chablis ($70), which is spot-on in its Chablisiennity: a wine with volume but no oppressive weight, the wet cobbles/chalk scent characteristic of some (good) wines of the region, and crisp, mouthfilling fruit. Also mighty darn nice was the focused, intense Château Génot-Boulanger Puligny-Montrachet 1er Cru La Garenne ($55), a whole lot of words to name a wine that tasted so pure it seemed to rise past words entirely.

If your friend/spouse/alien controller likes red, well then, you're already living the good life, but for a modest outlay you can make them happy with something like the 2005 Potel-Aviron Moulin-à-Vent Cuvée Exceptionelle ($27), all fragrant black raspberry and liveliness, and yet another argument towards investigating the sadly underrated world of cru Beaujolais. If you're feeling a tad more flush, on the other hand, the 2006 Domaine Humbert Frères Gevrey-Chambertin 1er Cru Poissenot ($125) was for me the wine of the night, a very pretty G-C that you'd almost want to take on a date instead of drink, except that it's a bottle of wine and that would be conversationally depressing as the night wore on. Instead, pour yourself (or your best pal) some and enjoy its complex layers of licorice, smoke, wild berry and crisp tannin. It went pretty fabulously with the Wagyu skirt steak Dufresne cooked up. I wish I could say the same for the peanut butter "pasta" (that's right) he served with the steak, but then everybody knows that peanut butter pasta doesn't go with Burgundy. Right?

I've decided that I'm in love with a clone. Specifically, the Rued clone of Chardonnay (yes, that's what it's come to). It's a selection that originally came from a vineyard Warren Dutton planted in Sonoma's Green Valley in 1969, and to my mind it produces some of California's most compelling Chardonnays. A case in point is the 2006 Dutton Goldfield Rued Vineyard Chardonnay ($45, find this wine), which combines spiced pear and tangerine-lime notes in a way that gives it both lusciousness and vibrancy, a kind of savory leesiness that adds depth, and a touch of bitter (in an appealing way) spice on the end. It's impressive Chardonnay, worth the price.

(On a side note, when I went to the Dutton Goldfield site to check my recollection of the Rued clone's origins, I noticed that Dan Goldfield also describes the wine with the words "spiced pear" and "tangerine," among others. This happens less often than one might think; in fact, it's a worthwhile wine-education exercise to line up several different wine critics' descriptions of the same wine side-by-side and take a look at how completely different they are, then taste the wine yourself and see who you agree with.)

I also recently tasted the 2007 Hirsch Vineyards Sonoma Coast Chardonnay ($50, find this wine), a more minerally take on Chardonnay that leans more toward stone-fruits like peach and nectarine than pear and ends on a creamy spice note. Hirsch is justifiably known as one of California's greatest Pinot Noir vineyards, and there are only four acres of Chardonnay on the property, yet the little that's produced—about 500 cases—is very, very good. A portion of this wine was fermented in stainless steel, a portion in oak (mostly old), and a final portion, oddly enough, in glass containers. It's got that far Sonoma Coast precision and focus, yet is luscious enough to be inviting at the same time.

I have a disproportionate amount of guy friends, which means I usually start getting distraught calls around this time of year (i.e., two days before Valentine’s Day) asking for gift suggestions. Case in point: Over the weekend, I asked my newlywed friend Adam what he was doing for his wife on Valentine’s Day. His response: “I didn't know you still have to do Valentine's Day after getting married!” For any other guys out there who may have forgotten, or waited until the last minute, here are a few ideas for the food-and-wine-loving woman that will fit every budget.

* The newly introduced Pulpe Vitaminée facial ($235) at the Caudalie wine spa in New York City’s Plaza Hotel is an hour and 20 minutes of pure bliss. The grapeseed-based vitamin-E serum used in the treatment is superhydrating and left my skin glowing. After the treatment you get to relax even more in the spa’s glamorous wine lounge, where a sommelier will serve you a complimentary glass of the house wine, Chateau Smith Haut Lafitte.

* Cult beauty brand Fresh recently launched a new collection, Citron de Vigne, inspired by Veuve Clicquot’s vintage La Grande Dame Champagne. The perfume is $75, but I also love the soap, which comes hand-wrapped in kimono-inspired paper and costs $14.

* I eat out for work all the time, so I’m always more impressed when a man offers to cook me dinner. It’s much more intimate and thoughtful (and usually less expensive!) For inspiration, check out Food & Wine's most sexy recipes and irresistible milk-chocolate desserts.

© Caudalie Spa
The wine lounge in Caudalie Spa at the Plaza Hotel

© Courtesy of Fresh
Fresh's new Champagne-inspired collecttion

Needing an escape from the cold and chaos of NYC, I recently booked an impulsive long weekend in San Juan, Puerto Rico. All I wanted was a relatively cheap vacation someplace warm and supercasual, where I could relax with a good book, eat fresh seafood and sip a mojito on the beach. What I didn't realize was that I'd unknowingly booked my trip for San Sebastian Festival weekend (Puerto Rico's version of Mardi Gras), and that I would run into a crew of NYC magazine editors in town for a guys’ weekend who would invite me to join them for a night out. The result: A taste of both sides of Puerto Rico—the wild and glam, and the quiet and laid-back.

High-Style Fun
We dined in style at Picayo, rock-star chef Wilo Benet's white-tablecloth restaurant in the Museo de Arte de Puerto Rico. Modern art and funky, feathered lamps make the dining room feel like a private gallery, and Benet’s food is artfully plated, showcasing global riffs on traditional Puerto Rican ingredients. We indulged in a perfectly executed tasting menu that included a superflavorful lollipop of truffle-oil-spiked beef carpaccio and Parmesan cheese, crackling-studded risotto and, of course, crisp, salty tostones.

After dinner we went out to the superposh, South Beach–meets–Vegas hotel La Concha, in San Juan’s hip Condado neighborhood. A $220 million revamp transformed the lobby into a 24-hour thumping disco, and the outside is a maze of pools, hot tubs and tented cabanas.

Affordable Relaxation
My hotel, Hosteria del Mar, a great-value beachfront bed and breakfast hidden away in San Juan's residential Ocean Park neighborhood, was the antithesis of La Concha. Rooms are simple but spacious, the staff is friendly but the bar does serve an excellent mojito.

I got to taste the other spectrum of Wilo Benet's culinary talents at his newly opened wood-fired rotisserie spot, Varita, inside Condado Plaza hotel. The casual space—a modern take on a country lechonera—serves a value-minded menu of all things wood-fired. Fifteen dollars can get you a thin-crust pulled pork–and–Amarillo pizza or rotisserie-fired pork belly and a side of ripe plantain fritters. Benet’s even serving his own wine, made with grapes harvested in Spain.

© Varita
Lechon roasting on Varita's turbo-powered rotisserie.