Mouthing Off

Oh, you know, why not? Just because every single media outlet in America is probably doing a Superbowl-tie-in story right now doesn't mean I shouldn't, too, right? Anyway, I was going to write about the following five wines regardless; they'd be dandy for a Superbowl get-together, but they'd be equally good if you were sitting on a sandy beach, or heading over to a friend's for dinner, or making venison chili over a camp stove in a shed outside Durango, Colorado. Why you'd want to do that last one, I have no idea, but at least you'd be drinking good wine while you did.

2007 Fournier Sauvignon Blanc ($12) This Loire Sauvignon Blanc, from vineyards in the Touraine and Anjou regions, comes across like a good Sancerre for about half the price—it's grassy and zesty, with lemon and gooseberry flavors and a spicy finish.  

2007 Ajello Majus Bianco ($14) A blend of the local Sicilian varieties Grillo and Cataratto. This is all midsummer Sicilian sun: smoky pineapple notes and full-bodied texture. The Ajellos have grown grapes in Sicily since 1860, and while they still sell the majority of what they grow, they reserve the best lots for their own wines.

2006 Feudi di San Marzano Sud Negroamaro Puglia ($12) Sweet, rich blackberry fruit wrapped up in spicy tannins—that’s pretty much the story with this easygoing Southern Italian red. It isn't exactly a brainy wine; more just lush and simple and inviting.

2007 Domaine Jean Bousquet Malbec ($13) Jean Bousquet started off making wine in southern France in the 1970s, but in 1997 he moved to Argentina's Tupungato Valley, evidently so he could make wines like this one: generous, black, full of ripe raspberry fruit.  

2006 LiVeli Orion Salento Primitivo ($15) This is a Puglian wine produced by a Tuscan family (the owners of Avignonesi). Powerful and earthy, it seems as though it might have been siphoned out of the ground rather than fermented in a tank, which in my book is a good thing.

Here's an interesting news story from AFP that I meant to post a little ways back. It discusses how worldwide demand for wine is apt to keep increasing despite the economic doldrums we're all in, largely thanks to the rapidly growing Russian and Chinese markets.

This follows on the heels (the somewhat rapidly receding heels, as it was a couple of weeks ago) of a Wine Market Council presentation I went to on consumer wine trends, where among other things I learned that wine was actually up last year, somewhere around 3.8% for the  thirteen weeks through December 15, and up 4.8% over the 52 weeks preceding that date. Not exactly boom times, but this was a substantially better performance than most of the other categories that Nielsen tracks (though not flour and dry vegetables/grains, which were up about 35% each—lots of people staying home to cook these days).

Anyway, unsurprisingly, the parts of the wine world that are growing fastest at the moment are the under-$10 realm (the $0-$2.99 segment is booming, though I'm not sure exactly what wines besides Two-Buck Chuck live in that world). The over-$20 zone? Hm. Not so good.

There were other hot-not notes to the presentation—Argentina? Hot. France? Not. Pinot Noir? Hot. Syrah/Shiraz? Not. I also learned that—and this is just in the channels that Nielsen surveys, which leaves out a lot of small, boutiquey wine shops—there are 13,698 different wines floating around out there on store shelves. 

So here's one of those 13,698 that I liked when I tasted it recently: the 2007 Gai'a Nótios White ($13, find this wine). Yes, it's Greek, but don't worry—if you haven't explored Greek wines recently, you should, because particularly for fans of crisp, focused, seafood-friendly whites, Greece has become a terrific resource. This bottle, a 50/50 blend of Moscofilero and Roditis, smells of spiced stone fruits and shows lots of lemon-lime citrus backed up by mouthwatering acidity. It would be great with this recipe for shrimp saganaki, created by my pal Grace Parisi in the F&W test kitchen.

Not long ago I was eating dinner at a tiny winebar called Cantina Do Spade, in Venice, when a German woman at the table next to me made a request for parmesan on her risotto nero. "I can give it to you. But you will ruin your meal," the woman who was serving her said. Her tone suggested that ruining the chef's risotto would be a very unwise thing to do. (Risotto nero, of course, is black thanks to cuttlefish ink, and as any good Venetian will tell you—evidently quite directly—fish and cheese don't go together. At least when in Italy.)

I feel like a Venetian restaurant proprietor when it comes to Sauvignon Blanc and oak. Why would you want to ruin such a spritely grape by slathering it with a bunch of oak? But, oddly enough, again while I was in Venice, at the Ristorante Lineadombra (which I heartily recommend), the proprietor effectively insisted we drink a magnum—there were six of us, so it wasn't that extreme—of the 2003 Inama Vulcaia Fumé Sauvignon ($30). And I thought it was just terrific.

This is what fixed ideas are for, I suppose: to be zapped out of existence. Anyway, the Vulcaia Fumé still had the citrus notes characteristic of Sauvignon Blanc, but it also had a savory, leesy depth that was surprisingly appealing, and a silky textural richness that was very un-Sauvignon. Of course, it was also several years old, but even so I had to rethink my absolutes. The wine is fermented in 25% heavily toasted barriques, then given battonage every six weeks for about eight months. It ought to be appalling. Instead it's delightful. And it was very good with the large and, thanks to my rudimentary Italian, somewhat mysterious-of-species roasted fish we had with it.

Anyway, I got back to the states, and decided I ought to taste the 2007 Inama Vulcaia Sauvignon ($23) just for comparison. (Inama, by the way, is in Soave, close to Venice.) Fermented and aged in stainless steel, it's still a fairly rich style of Sauvignon, probably thanks to the malolactic fermentation it undergoes. But it's more familiar in its bright grapefruity citrus character and tart finish. And it's also mighty fine; a pleasure to drink. Unfortunately, neither of these wines are the easiest to find, but if you contact the importer, DallaTerra, they may be able to help.

I fell madly in love with Italian beer a few weeks ago, after an impromptu introduction at L’Artusi. Ray Isle and I had dropped in for a late bite after the Tasting Table launch party and went straight for a gorgeous bottle of 1994 Felsina Chianti Classico Riserva. Halfway through our meal, two glasses of beer were dropped at our table courtesy of Best Cellars CEO Josh Wesson. I thought it was a strange gesture, given that we were at a restaurant known for its stellar wines (and cocktails). The beer—Grado Plato Strada San Felice —was a chestnut ale made in Piedmont and was one of the most unusual, deliciously nuanced beers I’ve had the pleasure of tasting. It had tons of body and an earthiness from the chestnuts, with just a hint of sweetness. It was so good that we ordered a bottle for dessert. Seeing our enthusiasm, L'artusi general manager Kevin Garry delivered a puckery taste of Le Baladin Super (Sour Edition 2005), which is brewed right outside of Turino.

Garry hails from Gramercy Tavern, where he helped put together the restaurant’s superambitious beer list. Now, Garry works with L’Artusi director/owner Joe Campanale and beverage director Aaron Sherman to create a well-edited brew list, which includes five esoteric Italian beers. The Italians seem to be having a beer moment. I'm thrilled to see the team at L'Artusi is helping spread the word.

There's no particular theme to this last-minute grab bag of good, inexpensive wines, though I was flipping through my notes and I did come across this comment from wine importer Bart Broadbent: "Wines are like people. If they please everyone, they're bland." This was said in the context of a tasting of Chateau Musar's unquestionably un-bland wines, but it's good food for thought regardless.

Anyway. I don't think that the 2006 Feudi di San Marzano Sud Negroamaro ($12) from Puglia would necessarily please everyone—it's too luscious and dark-fruited for folks who like their reds lean and angular—but it would certainly please a lot of people with its cassis and blackberry fruit. And no, it isn't bland.

Even less bland is the impressive 2006 Domaine de la Petite Cassagne Rouge ($15) a juicy, lightly funky red with black plum fruit and prickly tannins that wake up your tongue. It's a blend of Grenache, Syrah and Carignane from the Costières-de-Nimes, and it's a steal.

Once your tongue is awake, you could keep it that way by drinking some 2007 Rocky Gully Shiraz-Viognier ($14), which proves that not all inexpensive Aussie Shiraz tastes like blackberry jam. This one is lighter than the usual run, with bright fruit and evocative peppery notes in both the aroma and the taste. Stunning with seared kangaroo kidneys, or what have you.

If you're after rosé—which, yes, can still be drunk without hesitation despite the season—the 2007 Jean-Luc Colombo Rosé de Côte Bleue ($13) has a pretty raspberry-strawberry character and good texture. It's still drinking just fine. And if you put it outside for twenty minutes, it'll be exactly the right temperature.

My upcoming February Tasting Room column will be on Argentina's red wines—a grab-bag of tasty, affordable bottles that isn't quite online yet now it is! In the meantime, though, along with the reds I tasted a number of whites, and was particularly impressed with the quality/price combination offered by Torrontés, Argentina's most distinctive local white grape.

To me, Torrontés recalls the aromatic flamboyance of Muscat combined with the light crispness of Pinot Grigio. In the past, too many examples I tasted were also insipid (also like a lot of Pinot Grigio), but that seems to be changing. The following four all struck me as remarkably tasty wines given what they cost; the first three are from Salta, in the north of Argentina, the next two from subregions of Mendoza, Tupungato and Lujan de Cuyo. Very generally speaking, Torrontés from Mendoza is going to be bigger-boned and riper than that from Salta...

2008 Yellow & Blue Torrontés ($12/1 liter tetra-pak, find this wine). Yellow & Blue uses only organically-grown grapes for its wines. This white balances crisp acidity and a succulent texture, and has an aroma recalling mango blossoms, or what the blossoms of mango trees ought to smell like, as far as I'm concerned.

2007 Terrazes de los Andes Unoaked Torrontes ($18, find this wine). Vineyards at 5,900 feet in Salta provide flinty, almost smoky Torrontés, if this wine is any indication. It doesn't have the extravagantly floral nose of some warmer climate versions, but it trades that for an elegant, intriguing mineral edge.

2007 Sagta Torrontés ($11, find this wine). Again this has a slight smoky note in the aroma, together with bright lime and tangerine; its creamy in texture, with lots of fresh-cut white peach flavor, before narrowing down—in a good way—to a brisk, citrus-zesty end. Has some staying power, too. 

2007 Andeluna Winemaker Selection Torrontés ($13, find this wine). From the Tupungato region, this white smells of mandarin oranges and flowers, and carries those characteristics through in its flavor, adding a pink grapefruit note. That makes it sound quite sweet, but it isn't.

2007 Astica Torrontés ($8, find this wine). In many ways my favorite of this bunch, especially given the price. The Astica has a lovely Meyer lemon/lemon blossom scent, tart citrusy flavors and an edge of citrus zest in the finish. It would be a great seafood wine, or just chill the stuff down and sip it and imagine that it's June, not January....

I know that I definitely haven't finished my shopping, so I'm figuring I must have company out there in the rest of the world, too. Here are some terrific wines and other items (books, chocolates, etc.) that caught my eye recently:

I tasted a plethora of New Zealand Pinots on my recent trip there, but many of them are upcoming releases. I'll blog about those later; in the meantime, the 2006 Peregrine Pinot Noir (about $40, find this wine) is classic Central Otago Pinot, with a sort of blue floral scent (oh, you know what I mean...right?), juicy raspberry fruit, and a brambly, smoky finish. It's big enough to pour with some nice New Zealand grass-fed lamb.

For the crazy funkmeister wine fanatics in your acquaintance, a bottle of the 2000 Chateau Musar Red (about $40, too; find this wine) is just the ticket. It's got that classic Musar aroma of bicycle tire and sweet red cherry, with the same sweet red cherry fruit continuing in the flavor, along with wild strawberries and lightly twiggy tannins (by which I mean not-unpleasantly prickly in a dry twig sort of way). It's a big, dark Musar, representative of the vintage, which Serge Hochar says "was a year of Cabernet." Hochar also says, "If my wines had no V.A., I would stop making Chateau Musar. End of story." So be warned!

Since toasts are inevitable this time of year, Champagne is inevitable as well, and given its inevitability, you might as well pour something really good. Lately I'm liking the Ruinart Brut Rose NV ($75, find this wine). Not cheap, but it's a terrific rosé, dense with flavor even as its graceful structure gives it a kind of Grace Kelly beauty, in a wine way. 

In a non-wine vein, chocolate-genius Drew Shotts of Garrison Chocolates has a nifty and very tasty six-piece box of chocolates ($10) with fillings infused with Pama Pomegranate Liqueur. Too late, most likely, for Christmas, but not too late to order a box for yourself. You deserve one, since you're probably exhausted with all this present-buying craziness.

Lastly, I left one book off of my post about wine-book gifts, which is Ben Wallace's compelling page-turner dissection of one of the bigger wine scandals to happen in, oh, the past century or so. The Billionaire's Vinegar: The Mystery of the World's Most Expensive Bottle of Wine rolls scads of money, super-valuable (or not so!) counterfeit wines, some very high-profile collectors, shady business dealings, and a few read-it-to-believe-it debaucheries involving bottle after bottle of ultra-rare wine together into one big juicy narrative. I've never read a wine book that was as much of a page-turner; it's also smart and well written, which doesn't hurt.

And that's it. I'm out of here until after New Year's. 

I was on CBS's The Early Show this past Saturday, with some affordable wine recommendations for Thanksgiving (and every other upcoming holiday), and I keep receiving emails from friends wondering about wines that go with turkey, so evidently not everyone has their holiday grocery shopping done. To that end, here are a few of my favorite wines for Thanksgiving. These are just bottles I happen to like, that I think go well with a wide range of flavors—which is the key to a good Thanksgiving wine.

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A few hours of sleep and a run in Hyde Park revived me after nearly eight straight hours of eating and drinking, and had me anticipating breakfast at Daylesford Organic’s flagship London store. I have long been waiting for Britain to export Daylesford Organic to the States. The Martha Stewart-meets-Blue Hill at Stone Barns philosophy stems from Sir Anthony and Lady Carole Bamford, who 20 years ago turned their 6,000 acres of farm land in Gloucestershire and Staffordshire organic and started raising free-range poultry, Aberdeen Angus beef, making their own milk and cheese and growing their own produce. The family even produces wines and olive oils from its vineyards and olive groves in France. I experienced the Daylesford trifecta in London’s Pimlico neighborhood: At the café, breakfast at the long wooden communal table included an expertly prepared cappuccino and poached eggs and mushrooms on thick, toasted homemade whole-grain bread. Up the street is Daylesford’s garden store, a greenhouse style shop that sells flowers, garden supplies and country-chic home furnishings and antiques. And across from the café is Daylesford Butcher, where the farm’s organic, sustainably raised meats are sold. (Before I left London I got one last Daylesford fix at the just opened Notting Hill store. The upstairs has the same country market feel of the other stores with shelves of artisanal foods and just-picked produce. Downstairs is something completely new: a raw food bar.)

The rest of my day was dedicated to Marylebone High Street where I  browsed Sir Terrance Conran’s design mecca, The Conran Shop; ducked down Moxon Street for lunch at the café in La Fromagerie, one of the most amazing cheese shops I’ve ever visited; explored the shelves of Daunt Books, a 19th-century book shop that organizes both its fiction and nonfiction by geographic region – a travel junkies dream. I was still on the same street come dinnertime so I grabbed a stool at the communal table of The Tapa Room, the casual sister restaurant of the elegant, pricier Providores, which is just upstairs. For less than $25 I had one of the most satisfying meals of my trip. I ordered a glass of Mt. Difficulty Bannockburn Pinot Noir from the New Zealand-focused wine list and two small plates: a pan-fried Manouri cheese with black fig and pea shoots and a paprika roasted sweet potato topped with caramelized onion, edamame, Greek yogurt and arugula. Bob Marley and Tom Petty played from the speakers and the young couple next to me insisted I try their mochi-wrapped banana and caramel ice cream dessert that was topped with Thai puffed rice and strawberries — amazing!

I couldn’t leave London without visiting a British pub, so I made a late night trip to Waterloo for a pint of Wells Bombardier cask ale at The Anchor & Hope, London’s version of the Spotted Pig - a very proper ending to my first whirlwind tour of London.

Well, here in NYC it's a rainy fall day, which always brings to mind (my mind, at least) dishes like the venison chili I made the other night, and wines like the 2005 Hendry Block 28 Zinfandel ($30, click to find it) that I opened to go along with it. The Hendry is a big, boisterous red, with lots of rich berry fruit, but a firm framework of tannins to support it. Not a small wine, but not a monster, either.

I don't know how much of the 2006 Chateau Blanc Un Autre Rouge Côtes de Ventoux (price a mystery) makes it to the US, since wine-searcher seems never to have heard of it, but if you like lively Rhône reds and you spot a bottle, go for it. Purple berries, a scent of violets, prickly tannins, rustic spice—couldn't be more Rhônish in nature. I suspect it's affordable, and write this in hopes that a wave of the stuff will soon appear on wine store shelves.

Another good wet weather wine, ideal with something like my ex-colleague Nick Fauchald's Beef and Lamb Burgers with Cheddar and Caper Remoulade—mighty tasty burgers that he concocted this summer for a story on wine vs. beer pairing—would be the 2005 Vallado Tinto ($25, click to find it) from Portugal's Douro river valley. A blend of various local grapes, it's deep garnet in color, dark, rich and dense with lightly baked Douro black cherry fruit—another red very evocative of the place it comes from.