newlondonbrickhouse

Filmed at Quinta do Bomfim, Dominic Stymington on Douro wine

2010-11-30T20:10:00.000-08:00

For MK Mag

2010-08-22T10:21:00.001-07:00

From l’Evangile’s anomalous vineyards of clay and gravel in Pomerol, this Right Bank wine outshines even the best from Pauillac in the 1982 vintage. Merlot and Cabernet Franc locked in a gorgeous embrace of blue flowers, tobacco, truffles and dark fruit. A muscular beauty, even after twenty-eight years.

1982
Chateau l’Evangile
Approximately 2,000 cases produced (an unknown quantity remain)
About $400-$600 on the open market

As close to Grand Cru Gevrey-Chambertain as the North American continent is ever likely to get. The Bryce vineyard is a mere four acres in the Ribbon Ridge AVA, and is farmed to an excruciatingly low yield that requires two vines to make a single bottle of wine. Bryce Pinot Noir combines depth, complexity and balance. A wine a penetrating dark fruit, loam and spice.

The passing of Marshal Bryce makes this the last vintage of Bryce Pinot Noir that will ever be produced.

2007
Bryce Vineyard Pinot Noir
375 cases produced
About $70

This wine is the antidote for those who are tired of Super-Tuscans and Parkerized Brunellos. Villa Le Prata is a foursquare example of Tuscany’s heritage and quality. The nose and palate are quintessential Montalcino, with notes of old earth, old wood and old men.

A wine of profound expression and sense of place. You are not likely to confuse this with Bolgheri Cabernet. This is Sangiovese Grosso, this is and could only be Brunello de Montalcino.

2004
Villa le Prata Brunello
400 cases produced
About $60

Deep Science

2010-03-14T14:48:00.000-07:00

E-mail forwarded from of friend of mine.

"Nice to see you the other night and thanks for the taste of the Gaja. I thought it was a nice wine, if not memorable. The main issue that I had with it were the rather green and astringent tannins for its overall weight. Some food for thought in guiding your future purchases follows.

With late ripening varieties like Nebbiolo and Cabernet, warm vintages (like 2000 in Piemonte) are problematic. On release they show well. You expect some tannin, they are after all young, and the high glycerin that comes along with high alcohol seems sweet. Sweet enough that the nature of the tannins are not very apparent at that point.

I think that most wine drinkers equate warm years with high levels of ripening, yet often the reverse is true. Ripeness was typically measured in terms of sugar in the grapes, which warm years provide lots of. But a more modern and accurate view looks at the ripening of the phenolics (tannins) which only occurs through lots of photosynthesis from a long "hang time".

Photosynthesis also produces sugar, but high sugar concentrations also occur from the dessication of grapes through evaporation in warm years. So in a warm year in a region that grows a late ripening variety, sugars rise rapidly due more to dessication and the resultant small tight berries (little water in them) more than actual production of sugars through photosynthesis.

The high sugar concentration occurs before the hang time is long enough to create the ripened phenolics, and the grower is in a bind. Pick now or wait? If they pick when the sugar is high enough to achieve 13-14% in the wine, the flavors will be less developed and the tannins on the green side (those kind rarely resolve and integrate into the wine). If they wait until the phenolics show ripeness, the sugar will now be at a level to produce a wine at 18-20%. Also in warm years the high temps create low acid grapes, so the PH will be high and the sugars, off the charts.

You can't make good wine from musts like this. You would then (whether legal in your area or not) have to water back the must to get a 14-15% wine and then add lots of acid that you buy from a chemical lab. Also, by the way, not a formula for great wines, but this "formula" is VERY common in CA.

I have tasted many 1997's from Tuscany, another hot vintage that was highly lauded on release, ( I am thinking about a bottle of 1997 Solaia that *** offered me a taste of recently) that are now, absolutely shot. Most 2000's from Piemonte may go this way very soon too."

Tokaji with Sebastain Bausinger

2009-12-29T14:36:00.000-08:00

Jim Morrison-
What's the oldest Tokaji you've ever tasted, how old, what winery, and how was it?

Sebastain Bausinger-
Nice to see you back from the dead and alive&kickin´once again
Well, just between you and me, the Tokaji I tried was from 1811, the year of the great comet.

It was Essencia, winery is unknown (unfortunately, but probably not existent anymore). My description is a short one: heavenly. Fresh, alive, full of a most elegant fruit, some nuts, a bit of honey...just like a dream come true.

I can add that I was somewhat disappointed in one aspect: it did not show its age at all. It could have been 40 years old or 60 or even 20...it was so fresh, nearly crisp...not the slightest hint of becoming tired or old. It was not overburdened with aroma, rather a very complex yet elegantly medium-bodied wine looking like liquid gold.
All I can say is that it was a nearly religious experience for me, very interesting, very gratifying. My notes from that tasting;

"color of caramel, very expressive bouquet, completely alive, clear&clean, tiny particles of deposit, somewhat oily, fresh/fruity/nearly buttery nose.
Impression of hotness and sweetness, extremely long, intensly complex nose, heavenly, delicate scent, unfathomable depth of flavours which keeps on relieving/revolving around each other, a tiny bit like a perfect Riesling TBA, unbelieveable freshness, does not show its age at all, might as well be 10,20,30 years old instead of its 198years. Perfect happiness! Speechless..."

How about you so far?

Jim Morrison-
The oldest wine I have ever had was a 1937 Colhieta from Warres. It also showed no age. It could have been 20 years old or 10, I would never have guessed 70 years. I drank it with Dominic Symington at Warres overlooking Nova de Gaia. Then I took the train up the Douro and stayed at Quinta do Bonfim in Pinhao. Not a bad day. The food was a little... British if you know what I mean, but the view was to die for.

Garret Oliver of Brooklyn Brewery once told me he drank and Imperial Stout from 1824. Beer like that often resembles Port more than Lager. So I believed him, and I believe you too.

You should post the age of that Essencia on the Tokaji page. Tokaji doesn't get the respect it deserves.

Sebastian Bausinger-
On a sidenote, I read your blog and I agree so much with what you say there. Wine needs to be unique, to show its birthplace and its heritage, not just how well the winemaker operated the spinning-cone-column.

Your day at Nova de Gaia with Symington sounds fantastic, like a perfect combination of wine, place and conversation!
I wonder what that Stout tasted like and how he managed to obtain a bottle. Oh, and thank you for your trust in me. It´s a bit hard to explain generaly how something so old can still be consumable, not to mention with as much joy as I had.

Partly because of what my father taught me. I have a mild obsession with aged wines, including some older Riesling wines from 1948 onwards (so far). 1956, 1971 and 1976 are still very great if you manage to find some (they are rather inexpensive because everyone believes their livespan would be something like 10 years. For some strange reason here in Germany hardly anyone expects a white wine to last longer than that.). 1945 is on my list to bother my brother about, he still got some bottles of that year in his cellar.

Tokaji is indeed horribly underrated and I am hoping Hugh Johnson will change that at least a bit in the years to come. Same with Sherry, dry Marsala, Constantia from South Africa, Madeira - what a drama!- and Commandaria from Cyprus...looks like Port is the only sweet wine left with some esteem. German TBAs and such things are cheap as dirt compared to what Yquem charges for their stuff and their are/can be as least just as good, sometimes even way better.
Oh man, sorry to drown you in my words, wine is one of my biggest loves and so I find it hard to stop when I find a fellow spirit.

Fino

2009-07-15T19:21:00.000-07:00

La Cosecha Fino Sherry, Imported by MHW Ltd out of Manhasset, NY

La Cosecha is the only Sherry I buy, as it is the best in the world and not expensive. I have waxed poetic about their Palo Cortado on these very pages, now that the weather has shifted, so have I to Fino.

The man I buy La Cosecha from, the man who "selected" it, is a man named Fred Seggerman. He is quite old and quite mad, nonetheless genius and a legend in the wine business.

He went on for hours that this was "fresh Fino" and I should try a few "goddamn cases".

It is the finest Fino I have ever had, light, dry with just a hint of marcona almond. No perceptible oxidation, just a clean and clear expression of the Palomino grape.

I served it chilled with Lamb Saag and Chana Marsala

Grillet & Tomatoes, E-mail to Dr. Hank Mann

2009-06-13T09:25:00.000-07:00

Henri!
Ch Grillet is the smallest appellation in all of France, the entire A.O.C. is a monopole. They Grow Viognier and nothing but Viognier. But this is not the exuberant, lusty Viognier of Condrieu, oh no Mon Frere! This is from the granite schist of Grillet. Underneath the fleshy aromas of white flowers and woodspices, seethes the musculature of a dancer. A sexy precision and intellect, like large breasts on a nobel prize-winning underwear model.
I have tossed and turned, night after night trying to determine which of your 32 varieties of heritage tomatoes will best pair with this most rare of wines. I drew no conclusions except these; we should pull the cork and eat, for I do my best thinking with my tongue.

xoxo- James

Wine List For John

2009-05-03T11:27:00.000-07:00

Champagne
All of the Champagnes that we carry at Thames River Wine & Spirits are grower-producer Champagnes. In other words, produced by the growers themselves from their best fruit, in the artisanal tradition.

Marc Hebrart Cuvee de Reserve $50
80% Pinot Noir, 20% Chardonnay, from soil of chalk and limestone, 5800 cases produced from the entire estate.
Marc's wines are powerful, masculine and dramatic. Sweeping tones of blue fruit are balanced and supported by focused acidity and magnificent expressions of minerality. Reminiscent of Corton Charlemagne in structure and concentration of fruit, the wine will improve as it warms and is exposed to air. I recommend serving it chilled but not cold in wide Bordeaux glasses to maximize aromatics.

Vilmart Grand Cellier $75
66% Chardonnay, 33% Pinot Noir, from soil of clay and limestone, 8750 cases produced from the entire estate, all free run juice.
Laurent Champs, owner and the wine maker at Vilmart, is widely considered one of the finest producers of grower Champagne. His use of oak in aging the base wine is as deft and poised as any grand marque in Champagne or Burgundy, and draws constant comparisons with Krug. His wines are beautiful, and exotic. Whereas Hebrart Champagnes are masculine, Vilmart wines are creamy, voluptuous and feminine, as well as informed by and insightful of their terroir.

I would serve both to each guest in two consecutive rounds, Hebrart first followed by Vilmart.

White wine

Nessa Albarino $15
From Rias Baixas (ree-ahs buy-shuss) in northern Spain made from 100% Albarino that is whole cluster pressed and does not go through malolatic fermentation, but is aged for one month on fine lees. All of that means that they are pressing their grapes softly to get the best juice, leaving the acidity in, while they create weight and texture. The result is a wine that has the body to satisfy your typical American Chardonnay drinker, but has much better acidity for food and is all together more interesting.

Luigi Baudana Chardonnay $18
From Piedmonte Italy. This is one of my all time favorite producers. Their Barolo is one of the best in the world, just ask the Gambero Rosso. The Baudana estate is a whopping 4.5 hectare and the Chardonnay is produced from a .5 hectare plot! The entire estate production is 2100 cases. The wine is stainless steel fermented and unadulterated in any way. As with all Baudana wines the emphasis is on viticulture, authenticity and varietal typicity.

Red Wine

Domaine La Manarine Cotes du Rhone $15
There are two astounding facts about this wine. The first is that this level of quality can be attained in a wine humbly labeled Cotes du Rhone. The second is that a wine of such dark complexity can be achieved with 100% Granache. I will address these in turn.
The wine maker, Gilles Gasq, learned his trade as assistant to Paul Jeune of Domaine Montpertuis, whose Chateaunuef-du-Pape is truly epic. In fact despite it's classification as simple Cotes du Rhone, the wine has quite a bit in in common with Cahtneuf-du-Pape. The vineyards are on a plateau just north of Orange known as the Plan de Dieu. The soil there consists of an impressive layer of Galets, the large quartzite stones that define the wine of Chateau-neuf-du-Pape.
Each time I drink this wine I am stunned by it's complexity, its ability to achieve layer upon layer of dark brooding flavors with one varietal. This is not a Granache of high toned fruit, of cherry and pepper. This is a wine of anise, fennel, currents and hard stone minerality.

Fratelli Alessandria Barbera $27
As with the Luigi Baudana, I came to this wine through the estate's much more famous Barolo. Alessandria Barolo is a perfect counterpoint to the brutish Baudana Barolo, it is fine and precise, intricate and involved. And like Baudana Chardonnay, the Alessandria Barbera is almost completely overlooked in favor of the very famous Barolo.
But good habits are hard to break, and in each case, a great winemaker will make great wine regardless of the varietal. Barbera is the narrow end of the wedge for California wine drinkers. Barbera has all the weight, structure and muscle that Napa drinkers have come to expect from wine, yet infinitely nuanced and full of what I call small flavors.
What was true for Mies Van der Rohe, is true in wine, god is in the details. The big sweeping statements provide the scope of the wine, but the small flavors that occupy the corners of your mouth, the fleeting, ephemeral wisps of terroir from an ancient vineyard, this is it's greatness.

I hope you enjoy them. You can reach me at Newlondonbrickhouse@gmail.com if you have questions about these or any other wines.

Jim Morrison

Dre, Elke and Burgundy

2009-03-02T11:53:00.000-08:00

Swing Down sweet chariot stop and let me ride
swing down sweet chariot stop and let me ride

"You mind DRE?"
"No DRE is cool by me"

"I'm sorry it's a little messy in here"
"Is all this stuff yours?"

"You mean the giant hairbrush and the aqua patent leather flats? No, those belong to my ex-girlfriend. This is my break-up car. When she split she said, keep the car, I said thank you."

"Why don't you give this stuff back?"
"She doesn't want that shit, would you? Besides, it keeps me grateful"

"About what?"
"She could have left nothing but the shoes"

"So where are we going exactly?"

"The Lenox Hotel, downtown Boston, for the Frederick Wildman 2007 Burgundy preview, last year's preview was the dopest wine show ever in the history of dope wine shows. The finest producers and vineyards, these will likely be the best wines you ever drink."

"So these are wines with like really big scores and great ratings and such?"

"Look, just because some jackass from Maryland created a language without art to describe wine, doesn't mean we have to employ such crude metaphors, such reductionistic thinking. I prefer prolonged intoxication and drunken diatribes, eventually we will get to the heart of the matter, even if it takes years. This is a life's work."

It's like this, and like that, and like this, and uh
It's like that, and like this, and like that, and uh
It's like this, and like that, and like this, and uh

"From what I remember, you don't drink a lot of California wines"

"No I don't, but I drink as much Burgundy as possible. California wines and that whole aesthetic...milieu, the high score wines, all that shit is predicated on massivity, dramatic ripeness and extraction, and the use of new oak as a primary element of flavor. Even the best of them, lack... mystery. Even when there are several distinct flavor events that take place at each sip, with say, a Stag's Leap or Spotteswoode, a Staglin, those events, that sequence of flavors, is fairly...predictable. Fruit, tannins, oak, rinse, repeat. Burgundy seems a little different.

With Burgundy the fruit plays the protagonist, but as with every great protagonist, it needs an antagonist to expresses itself, tannic and malic acid provide this foil. It is the dialectic between these two basic elements, fruit and acid, that informs the palate and creates a dynamic tension that pulls the wine open and allows us to see into it, through it, and if we are lucky, glimpse the vineyard below, the soil beneath the fruit. "

bitches relax while I get my proper swerve on
bumping like a motherfucker ready to get my serve on

"So if you can imagine the fruit and acidity plotted on an XY graph, realize that no matter how big those values are, we are still only dealing with two dimensions, and a two dimensional wine. It isn't until we add data on the Z axis that we get a three dimensional wine. That aspect of the wine, that Z axis, is spatial, it's place of origin, commonly know as terroir. Now add in the variations of vintage, and the vagaries of drinking an ever changing wine as it matures, and Oh Shit! We are drinking on a temporal plane now motherfucker, we are drinking in the fourth dimension. That's Burgundy. Get your mind around that"

Just to floss it like a motherfucker, clownin' an' shit
Got the Danas on the hooptie and your fly-ass bitch

"Jesus, you get paid for that? I'm glad I pulled a few tubes before we left, this is going to be a long ride"

"I try to imagine a wine's flavor in my mind's eye as a three dimensional shape like a hologram or like the wavelengths on an oscilloscope. It helps me remember the wine and approach it's flavor from different angles. But yeah, I get paid for this, amazing isn't it?

Just for instance, let's take Humbert Freres Gevrey Chambertain, this guy makes like 400 cases of that wine. I remember him last year at his table in overalls and muddy work boots, and no matter what he's wearing this year, I will choose to remember him the same way. This guy is a farmer.

Drink his wine and you have this rush of fresh red and black fruit, a touch of licorice, that slight note of new oak coming in behind your ear at three quarter palate, even the hint of strawberry greens. But the only thing I can think about is... you know that smell, when you go to the oven and you pull out a little aluminum foil pouch of beets that have been roasting. You're not sure if they're done so you slowly unwrap them and then that smell hits you, sweet and ripe and mineral. The smell of sweet hot earth, an aromatic minerality that is drawn up from the soil itself and magnified through the lens of the beet, or if you prefer, the grape. That's what this guy's wine smells like, raspberries and roasting beets."

"Behind your ear?"

"Yeah behind my ear, the taste of new oak isn't at the forefront, it's not at the tip of my tongue or on the sides. It doesn't rise up like tannins from the bottom of my mouth and swallow my tongue like an angry squid, nor does it cascade down onto my tongue from the roof of my mouth like that tart raspberry fruit. It comes in, it pokes its head in from behind my ear and sits for a moment on the back of my tongue, then disappears. That is a well made wine, oak in the supporting role."

Breaking all you suckaz off something real proper like
you know what I'm saying?

"Or take the wines of Armand Rousseau. Last year, I'm at the Rousseau table blithely drinking and I'm trying to find the wines on the price list and I'm looking and looking, can't find them. So finally, I say to the guy, 'this wine is not for sale is it?' He shakes his head as if I should know. Very famous, historic, storied estate. The wines have a prettiness, an obvious beauty. They are perhaps THE most beautiful wines in the world, I mean you could say that. In fact if history is any indication, a couple glasses of Gevery Chambertain and that is exactly what I'll be saying, and I'll mean it too.

There's an aristocracy, a pedigree there, and you can taste it. Think about Elke Sommer, and I don't mean some retro, harken back type of thing. I mean image that it's 1968 and we're standing right there in the Playboy mansion and Elke Sommers walks in buck naked in a pair of high heels. A perfect example of the feminine form. That's what Rousseau Burgundy is like to me, statuesque wines with broad feminine shoulders. Wines with a long neck and delicate collar bones, beneath a strong jaw and high cheek bones. Wines with a gentle slope of a supple breast and a nipple pointed upward indicating some place off in the distance, some place over the horizon that you can't imagine, but long for nonetheless"

And word to these hyped ass lyrics and dope beats that I hit you with, that I get you with,
As I cruz in my '4 on Dees hittin' switches.

"Still they're not my favorite wines.They're beautiful, but beauty is just another form of tyranny. I prefer the dark and brooding qualities of Domaine des Perdix Echezeaux. That wine is a thoroughbred through and through, and like a thoroughbred it's head strong and cagy. It provokes this sort of existential anxiety, and leaves you asking yourself, will I ever know wine? What do I taste? You can spend hours rolling that wine over your tongue, worrying each note with your palate like an old lady with rosary beads, passing them again and again between her fingers.

Like all great art, it's a mirror. It will tell you more about yourself than it will ever reveal about itself. Am I the type of person who needs the answer, or am I happier forever pursuing the question?"

"Hey, this is good, park here."
"Parking meters? I fucking hate parking meters. We should cut the heads off "

"We'd probably be arrested"
"True, but once we were in jail we could eat a hundred eggs"

"No man can eat a hundred eggs"
"Don't be so sure"

"I don't have any quarters"
"Me neither, but these people seem nice. Hey lady, you have a quarter? Buddy you got any quarters? Got a quarter, man?..."

"You realize that we've been reduced to begging on the streets of Boston?"
"I'd feel bad about that if it wasn't working so well, there's like eight dollars here, another half hour of this and we'll have dinner covered"

"We should get to the tasting"
"You're right, I'm not one to step up off a hot corner, but Grand Cru Burgundy awaits"

Swing down sweet chariot stop and let me ride
Hell, yeah...
Swing down sweet chariot stop and let me ride
and all the Bitchez say...
Swing down sweet chariot stop and let me ride.

Automat

2009-01-17T09:07:00.000-08:00

I received an E-mail from a friend of mine asking me if I had heard of wine bars with pre-paid cards and gas systems meting out samples of wine. "Is it heresy?", she asked.

My Response:

I have heard of wine bars like this, they have been around for years. People love them, especially people who like gadgets, gizmos and technology in general. In the 1940's and 1950's the same type of thing was very popular in New York with food. They were called Automats. They looked like a room full of post office boxes. You would drop in your dime and open a little door and pull out a sandwich.

As the idea of eating a post office box egg salad sandwich seems unpleasant to us now, drinking wine from little spigots will probably seem unpleasant to future generations. There is a novelty aspect, the longevity of which is questionable. I'm sure it was once very exciting for people to pump their own gas or run an elevator by themselves.

Furthermore, I'm uncertain if these places ever become the fine dining destination their owners hope for. My feeling is that they do well in an area with heavy foot traffic, and within close proximity of other restaurants. For many, this type of establishment becomes a pre- or post-dinner stop. In L.A., with a large affluent populace of West Coast types milling around, a restaurant like this can do quite well. The point of business is money, and these things can and do make money.

As a serious wine drinker however, it's not for me. More often than not places like this serve 72 different brands of wine, not 72 types of wine. The difference is huge, although would likely be overlooked on the West Coast. For instance, to taste Chalk Hill Sauvignon Blanc and Stag's Leap Sauvignon Blanc head to head is unenlightening. However tasting, Sancerre and Pouilly Fume head to head is quite.

Then there is the issue of fatigue. Maybe they put Gaja Barbaresco on the wine list just to silence assholes like me. I would still be thinking, how long has that bottle been open? how clean are the lines?

The advantage of buying wine from a machine instead of a person escapes me. I don't find it exciting to drink with the same type of card I use at the laundromat to wash my clothes.

Heresy? No, a gimmick yes.

Now if you are going to tell me I'm an arrogant prick, save your breath I know.

Chateau Beaucastel

2009-01-01T11:15:00.000-08:00

One of my favorite wines of all time, if for no other reason than I have a deep history with the wine going back many vintages. Once, I even did a vertical tasting with Marc Perrin himself of the 2004, 2003, 2001, 1995, 1989, 1985, 1983, 1978, as well as several vintages of the Rousanne V.V., including the 2002 which was remarkable for what was by all accounts a disasterous year in the Southern Rhone.

Beaucastel ages better than any wine I've ever had, there I said it. The 1978 and 1983 are still drinking beautifully, they get finer and lighter as they age obviously, but still show no sign of being in decline. I've taken Ch. Beaucastel head to head with Ch. Rayas and even once put Beaucastel 1983 vs. Ch. Latour 1982. When the dust settles and you get past the fame of the other suitors for your palate, I still prefer Beaucastel, it is my tongue's favorite lover.

There is an intrinsic advantage to that scope of varietal blending, in terms of complexity, and depth of flavor. Then there's Mourvedre! What can I say about Mourvedre that hasn't been said before in song and story. It imparts an earthy gaminess that appeals to those who like things like venison, wild boar and the smell of sex. Ch. Beaucastel may often lack the firm burnished surfaces of Ch. Latour or the absolute high toned clarity in Ch. Rayas, but for me, it is simply wine made manifest.

A New England Christmas

2008-12-26T07:47:00.001-08:00

Christmas Dinner 2008, Hank Mann in the Traditional Role of the Lamb Santa

Hank Mann is a great chef. The food he has served me in his home is simply some of the best food I have ever eaten. Hank has served me the best mussel I've ever eaten, the best shrimp, the best artichoke, the best paella, the best curry, the best bouillabaisse, and just this thanksgiving, the best turkey I've ever eaten. He and his wife Carol were kind enough to extend an invitation for Christmas dinner this year, there is no where I would rather be, and no one I would rather dine with, so I gladly accepted.

Dinner at the Mann's can be an epic experience, not only for the quality of the food and wine, but for the sheer scale of the evening. Hank routinely cooks for over twenty people, and often serves meals of six, seven, eight courses. It is not uncommon to arrive for dinner at 2pm and eat and drink for eight hours until you simply have to leave and go lie down. Once, he hosted a 2005 Spatlese Riesling tasting, we lined the wines up on a small antique drop leaf table, there were so many wines that the table gave way, sending wine to the floor. We lost a dozen or so bottles, still I counted forty-six wines that we tasted through over a four hour period. Then we had dinner, with a whole new set of wines.

I've had 1982 Ch. Latour at his house, and 1970 Ch. Gruaud Larose and 1975 Ch. Pichon Lalande. I've had 1990 Ch. Rayas at his house and consumed so much 1978 Ch. Beaucastel that I smelled like Mourvedre for a week. Once when I mentioned to his friend Ken that I had never had a Trockenbeerenauslese before, Ken produced from his bag two bottles from two different vineyards and we drank them standing in the kitchen talking about drainage in the vineyards of the Great Ramp in the Mosel.

Hank and Carol live deep in the woods of Stonington on an old homestead that was first settled in the 1600's. The original house was lost to fire and replaced by the current home built in 1777. There are still ruins and outbuildings that provide insight into Colonial life in the woods of Connecticut. They have an earthen ice house with a stone roof by the pond, and a spring house, and an old barn with a flat rock foundation with no mortar, there is even a family cemetery on the hill. The house itself has wide board floors, exposed hand hewn beams and a wide shallow fireplace with a deep granite hearth. In short, a perfect place for Christmas.

I arrived at two o'clock with a bag of goodies and had the singular treat of cooking with Dr. Mann. We began with a plate of Sliced smoked duck breast, Pate de Foie Gras with 2% truffle, and a very ripe Epoisses. I opened a bottle of Domaine Dujac Chambolle-Musigny, and I was like a kid at Christmas. I had been holding on to that bottle of Dujac for over a year, with very high expectations. It has a magnificent reputation and an unfortunate price. The wine did not disappoint, It was dark red with black undertones, fully opaque, with raspberry and brambles, fine strong tannins well integrated into the fruit with a touch of iron. The wine paired perfectly with the stinky Epoisses, also from the Cote d'Or, and the earthy, loamy Foie with truffles and smoked duck.

As we ate and drank, we prepared the next course, duck confit. We unwrapped the duck legs and trimmed the excess fat to expose the meat. We boiled the potatoes for three minutes, then tossed them with butter and salt. We placed the confit in the center of a wide shallow pan, surrounded them with the potatoes, added in the trimmed duck fat and dusted the potaoes with rosemary. Then into the oven at 425 for 35 minutes. As the duck legs cook the fat is rendered out providing a fantastic medium for the potatoes to cook and crisp and brown.

While that cooked, Hank had me try some of the curry he had made the night before. "The trick is to add the chicken late so that it doesn't overcook, it stays moist and keeps it's texture that way, and here try this". He added a dollop of ginger pickle and lime pickle paste. In twenty years of eating curry this was the best I've ever had.

After the taste of lime pickle had subsided, we pulled the cork on a bottle of 2005 Ch La Vielle Cure and prepped the lamb. With a nice hard wood fire going in the fireplace in the dining room, we set up a grilling rack and placed the lamb loin over the open flame and glowing coals and sat at the dinner table drinking wine and watching lamb roast.

I opened a bottle of 1983 Hermitage La Chapelle and decanted it. I have had this wine many times, and at twenty-five years old it still seemed a little young. Thankfully, both the duck confit and the lamb provided just the thing, the perfect key to unlock the wine and allow it to express itself, fat. Gamey, dark fat.

Carol set the table with her grandparents 19th Century china, beautiful stuff signed by hand on the underside. I have always loved good china, it makes for a beautiful canvass for the artistry of great food. It was a small gathering on this night, Hank, Carol, their son Tommy and their daughter Melanie, and myself. It was a very happy day in my life. We sat and ate like a family, like I was part of the family.

For dessert Carol brought out a cheese cake with a raspberry orange sauce. We opened a bottle of 2001 Hugel Gewurztraminer Vendage Tardive Grains Noble, that at first glance seemed a little shy on the acidity, but with the tart raspberry sauce, it was perfect, perfect.

This was the quaint New England Christmas you see in the movies, it was Norman Rockwell with cool people. It was the Christmas I have always wanted, it was the Christmas I finally got.

In Defense of Champagne during a Recession

2008-12-24T05:48:00.000-08:00

http://www.nytimes.com/2008/12/24/dining/reviews/24wine.html?emc=eta1

Link to a New York Times Article sent to me this morning by a local banker

My response

My problem with the New York Times article is that the Times assumes that it should champion less expensive products during a market downturn, and that simultaneously, a luxury niche will be opened up to a larger demographic. This is true. They are bemused by this little irony, and very pleased with themselves. How clever.
But they are fools, simply because they are treating artistry as mere fodder for commerce. They are gauging the market, and analyzing seemingly appropriate consumer solutions, quite astute I'm sure. But they don't love, they don't drink with their heart. I fear that those who read them will similarly drink with their head and not their soul. For me, the opportunity to touch greatness is priceless. Or I should say, reasonably priced at about $50 a bottle.

How I met Raimund Prum

2008-12-19T15:23:00.000-08:00

Pouring for Raimund Prum at a vertical tasting of six vintages of his Wehlener Sonnenuhr Spatlese at Brie & Bleu

One year it snowed heavily the day of the Mohegan Sun winefest. At the time I drove a 1987 Ford Ranger that had already been hit once so I figured, what's the worst that can happen? I drove down to the old Sub Cafe on Bank street and picked up some nice heavy pieces of rubble from around back. I had about 800lbs of cement block and yankee granite in the back of that truck as we crept up 395 on our way to the Sun. I had Ryan Connelly with me. He was front of the house at Brie & Bleu at the time and I had gotten free tickets to the show through the wine shop. We had low expectations about the wine we would see, but we had the will to live and hoped to do the type of drinking associated with the words open and bar.

The Mohegan Sun Ballroom is as unpleasant a place to taste wine as I can imagine. Bright light, synthetic carpet, fat Americans milling around embarrassing themselves. Only this time, there was no one there because of the snow. A show ready for 5000 had maybe 500 people. I was set upon immediately by salespeople, sales managers, brand managers, key account managers, and various others attempting to ply their trade, the poor bastards. I was dragged through several "important brands" and through two dozen $100 Cabs until they all tasted the same. My tongue now burnt, I excused myself

Then I saw Raimund, all 6'4'' of him with bright red hair. So I stumbled up to him and said "I've never liked Riesling, I know I should, I've just never gotten it. You are supposed to be one of the great winemakers of the Mosel, impress me with your wine." And he did. He walked me through QBA, Kabinett, Spatlese, and Auslese. He told me about the steep vineyards of schist, the hand harvesting, about the purity and clarity, the tension and transparent nature of The Queen Of White Grapes.

Then I looked at him and asked a question I'd been asking all day with disappointing results."Do you have anything under the table?" If you go to a wine show, any wine show, this is not a bad question to ask. Invariably there are people there who have brought wines to show their best clients, the press, each other, whoever, but not you. Now, you can ask to see this wine, but you can't flinch. You have to look them right in the eye and ask with the gravity of someone who can put money in their hands.

Raimund bent down and pulled out a 375ml bottle of 1998 Graacher Himmelreich Ice wine. His corporate lackey handler Max gave a little twitch and started to sweat as Raimund poured. At the time this was the greatest wine I had ever had, and I'm not sure it still isn't. Produced from grapes frozen in a quick hard frost, and harvested from a vineyard of steep slate, by hand, and crushed while the water is still trapped in ice crystals at -5C, it was a wine of vast depth, with penetrating acidity, concentrated fruit and intense minerality. I polished off the pint, (I can be very persuasive in situations like this), then I politely asked how much something like that cost, as I would be interested in buying some for the store.

"It's expensive" says Max
"How expensive" says I
"$355 for 375ml" says Max
"I'll take six" says I
"I don't know if we have six" says Max
"Find Six" says I

I thanked Raimund for his time and told him if he was ever in New London to call me. "We can do an event at the bistro, we can do for the public what you just did for me, we can make them understand. I mean look around you, we are swimming in a sea of liquid shit, it's only redeeming quality is it contains alcohol." Raimund thanked me for my enthusiasm, and was polite as I excused myself as only a German can be polite when the person he is speaking with is making little sense.

I moved on and looked for Ryan, who had been very busy. In my absence he had procured a Trade Laminate that gave him full access to the show, but more importantly the ability to lift as much wine as he could carry without so much as raising an eyebrow. After scouring the show, he had compiled a few cases of expensive wine that he intended to walk out with. There were four cases, too much to carry alone, so I was recruited into a life of crime once again. We loaded up and walked out like we owned the place.

The Mohegan Sun is one of the biggest Casinos in the world. That is to say it was a long walk to the car, a long walk drunk over busy carpets and through ringing bells and flashing lights. I don't remember what happened next but I remember we were running and I was very aware of the cameras. And then Ryan fell, hard. And wine hit the floor, hard. I remember standing over him face down on the floor, 24 bottles of wine splayed out in front of him. I paused just a second, and then decided this was one of those times when you just keep moving.

So I did, and I found my truck, loaded with cement as it was, and put the two cases in the cab. Then I realized that I didn't even want this wine. Stealing bad! What would Buddha do? I had to get rid of it! So I started making phone calls, drunk phone calls. "Hey do you want any wine, I got a couple of cases of wine and I have to get rid of them right now or I might have bad Karma." I reached Kat Murphy and she agreed to help by drinking what she could. So I piloted my truck downtown, and rang the bell at the Hygenic Art Co-op. Kat answered, I went up, Greg Bowerman joined us and that is all I remember from that night.

In the morning I went to work on my day off just to drop off business cards I had collected and make brief notes on wines I had tasted the day before. The phone rang and I answered It. A strange man with a strange voice said things I didn't understand. Then he just kept repeating "It's me, It's Raimund!"

"Hey man,thanks for the wine yesterday.Where are you calling from?"
"I'm In New London!"
"Why?"
"I'm at the train station I'm going to New York, can I come by and see the store?"
"Yeah, man I'll be right there"

So I went down and picked him up, in my truck full of rubble, and brought him to the store, which he loved. The next time he was in the States we did a massive vertical Spatlese tasting from Wehlener Sonnenuhr for about twenty customers. I came to understand and love Riesling all the more. It is the perfect lens by which to examine terroir, each vintage original and unique. When he saw the Ice wine on our shelf he picked it up and said reverentially, "This wine will last one hundred years, maybe more"

That is how I met Raimund Prum

Ryan Connelly turned up two days later. He had lost his wallet, his keys, his glasses and his shoes. He had come to on a bench in a hallway at the casino not remembering how he got there or why.

For photos of Wehlener Sonnenuhr click on Riesling tag or see a Quick Defense of Riesling

Grower Champagne Tasting

2008-12-15T09:15:00.000-08:00

Your humble narrator labors long into the night, a pen in one hand, a glass in the other

Several years ago Dave and I were invited to a Champagne tasting at Fat Cat's in Norwalk. There were five of us, we ate pizza, talked politics, and drank Grower Champagne for four hours. It was one of the best tastings I have ever attended, a very simple, straightforward and thorough examination of wine.

For most wine drinkers, Champagne escapes attention and scrutiny. It is typically served ice cold, consumed quickly after a toast, or promptly at midnight. The big marque houses and their ubiquitous labels dominate the market, while their house style obscures the vast complexity of great Terroir.

After the Norwalk tasting (as it's come to be known), I turned my back on all major brands of Champagne, because they were quite simply that, brands. We carry no Veuve, Moet, Dom, Cristal, Bollinger or even Krug at the wine shop where I am the buyer. (Yes, I know Krug is great wine, we all love Krug, have you seen the prices recently?)

We put our queer shoulder to the wheel and did the hard and thankless, yet noble task of disabusing the American public of their love of Orange labels and misinformed notions of what constitutes quality and what justifies price. We set out to apply the same passion and critical eye to Champagne as we had to the rest of the wine producing world.

Quite simply put, the Champagne we sell is wine made in France by farmers. In that respect it is much like the Burgundy we sell, and the Sancerre and the Chateauneuf-du-Pape. It is different in character, but not different in nature, to the Rioja we sell, and the Barolo. It is artisanal wine that can be tied to a piece of land. It is wine made by a man or woman with whom you can speak or dine, or even thank.

In an effort spread the enthusiasm, and keep our Champagne Kung Fu the best, we hold a Champagne and Pizza event once or twice a year. The following are my notes from this year's two events, seven Grower Champagnes tasted twice under the same conditions within thirty days. In each of the two tastings the wines were pulled off the ice and allowed to gradually come up to room temperature. All wines were served in Bordeaux glasses to maximize aromatics and aeration. Finally, each wine was tasted after it had gone flat, three hours after being opened. In doing so, we were able to track the full arc of the wine and participate in the very long process of it's complete and full expression.

A. Margaine Cuvee Traditionelle $48
6.5 hectares in Villers-Marmery, Planted to 10% Pinot Noir, 90% Chardonnay
entire estate production 4600 cases

Opulent fruit and very aromatic with a touch of salt. Old fashioned in a good way, in a White Star Ocean Liner sort of way. On the palate, lemon pith, with a little bitterness to balance candied orange peel. The salt is now firmly brine, as in sea spray, in my mind, giving way to a long finish of lemon fruit, the pith is gone yet the pithiness remains. I time the finish with my watch, one and a half minutes

Pierre Peters Cuvee Reserve $55
17.5 hectares in Le-Mesnil-Sur-Oger, Planted to 100% Chardonnay
entire estate production 13,300 cases

FINE wine in the truest sense of the term. Very focused and precise, yet grand and sweeping. A Chalk minerality that is very Cote d'Or, Like Grand Cru Burgundy with bubbles. It brushes aside the the A. Margaine which by comparison seems quaint, like an English uncle in tweed, while the Pierre Peters is urbane and wicked suave.

Marc Hebrart Cuvee de Reserve $50
12.5 hectares in Mareuil-Sur_Ay, Planted to 75% Pinot Noir, 25% Chardonnay
entire estate production 5800 cases

The Cuvee de Reserve is 80% Pinot Noir and it shows, lots of blue fruit even black fruit. Power and muscularity with great poise. I flash on David in classic repose, strong and balanced, not overly dramatic but symphonic. The Champagne is enhancing the pepperoni on the pizza, creating a very intense tactile interplay between food and wine. The finish is insane, timed at three minutes, no really.

Vilmart Grand Cellier $75
11 hectares in Rilly-La-Montagne, Planted to 60% Chardonnay, 36% Pinot Noir, 4% Pinot Meunier
entire estate production 8750 cases
organic producer

The best example ever of the presence and use of oak. The still wine spends ten months in cask, but the oak is like dark matter, you know it's there but you can't see it. The oak bumps up the texture of the wine and supports the fruit, but it is totally absent in the conventional California Chardonnay-esque way. Very fine gunflint minerality, with salt and egg yolk. This is really good wine.

Pierre Peters Cuvee Especial 1999 in Magnum $175
17.5 hectares in Le-Mesnil-Sur-Oger, Planted to 100% Chardonnay
entire estate production 13,300 cases

Brioche and Minerality on the nose, Yeast and stone. Reminds me of young 2002 Corton Charlemagne without the weight. Very tightly knit. This is a mature but vigorous wine like a 1968 Steve McQueen, the flavors are pronounced yet extremely well integrated. A block of iron with sherry lemon oil.
one hour later brioche has blown off leaving pure apple and lime zest, classic Champagne fruit components, reminds me of the 1988 Lanson Noble Cuvee I used to drink with such great abandon.

Aubry Rose Brut $54
17 hectares in Louy-Les-Reims, Planted to 30% Pinot Noir, 40% Pinot Meunier, 30% Chardonnay.
entire estate production 11,700 cases

Fat strawberry, fairly simple and somewhat clumsy. It is hard for me to rectify this wine with the 1999 or 2000 Aubry de Humbert which is one of the finest wines in the world to my palate. This is odd, not bad, but odd. Two dimensional, without great depth, There is no wizard behind the curtain.

H. Billiot Rose Brut $65
5 hectares in Ambonnay, Planted to 75% Pinot Noir, 25% Chardonnay
entire estate production 3750 cases

Ohhh... Much more complex than the Aubry. Brioche on the nose giving way to Red Apple skins. The fruit is Strawberry balanced with bitters, as in Strawberry Rhubarb pie, AND I LOVE PIE! Much longer finish, finer wine in all respects.
After an hour or so of chasing this wine around the glass, I start to imagine stuff like, do I smell fennel? Best of night? Maybe. Magnificent wine definitely. Even warm and flat, this is a wine of limpid joy, clear flavors well pronounced and expressed

Great Wine Quote

2008-11-30T07:47:00.000-08:00

"The debate is not about whether the numbers are right but whether it is right to have numbers. Everyone agrees that Parker is, on his own terms, a completely honest scorer; but by scoring he intends to serve the consumer, and makes the wine drinker into one. What consumers want is reliable beverage products, and, once wine is a reliable beverage product, it isn't quite wine."

Demanding absolute excellence on an unchanging universal numerical scale is not, after all, our usual measure of sensual engagement. A man who makes love to fifty-some women and then publishes a list in which each one gets a numerical grade would not be called a lady's man. He would be called a cad. And that, more or less, is how a good many Frenchmen think of Parker: they don't doubt his credentials; they question his character. A real man likes moles and frailties; a real man marries his wine, as he marries his wife, and sees her through the thin spots. Being impatient with the tannins in a Margaux is like being impatient with the lines on your wife's face. They are what makes it a marriage rather than a paid assignation."

From THROUGH A GLASS DARKLY by ADAM GOPNIK in The New Yorker Issue Sept. 6, 2004. Review of the book "Noble Rot", by William Echikson.

Michel Rolland

2008-11-18T16:41:00.000-08:00

Michel Rolland tries to find Terroir in his glass

Michel Rolland is the most controversial figure in all of the wine world. Many people want him horse whipped and jailed, while others see him as an answer to all their problems and pay him very well for his advice. What can you make of a winemaker from Bordeaux who says things like "I can make great wine anywhere", a man who has abandoned, nay forsaken the artisanal process? Yet his wines are loved the world over, by critics and consumers alike.

The tenets of his winemaking philosophy fly in the face of conventional wisdom. To Rolland, place is irrelevant and the approach to wine making, whether it be Pomerol or Mendoza is always the same, ripeness, extraction and micro-oxygenation. In Rolland's defense, he is making some of the most lush, approachable wines in the world. And what others might refer to as a hegemony of aesthetics, others see as a democraticization of wine. The only problem is that his very successful approach, with the high Parker scores, and hundreds of millions of dollars that follow, supplant the indigenous, historical winemaking wherever he goes. When you are talking about Bordeaux, you are either discussing one of the pillars of world culture, or simply another product to bring to market. Where you fall in that debate makes Rolland's ubiquitousness, consulting for over 100 wineries, either a panacea or a plague.

I think that probably Rolland should be horsewhipped, but not jailed. Instead he should merely be exiled to Argentina where he can make wine in peace without interference from things like tradition and historical typicity and character. In Argentina he is a man free from the shackles of his ancestry and he can swim like an otter in a sea of possibility. In Argentina the arid climate and constant sun allow the Bordeaux varietals to flourish, reaching proportions formerly unknown. In Argentina vineyards can achieve levels of ripeness impossible in Bordeaux. Rolland's approach of maximum extraction expresses the fruit as Bordeaux never could. His method of mirco-oxygenation, whereby oxygen is injected into the wine during fermentation through a porous ceramic block, creates a wine of opulence and roundness of texture well suited to the Bordeaux varietals planted in Argentina. The question is, as Rolland smoothes out all the rough surfaces, as he burnishes and hews the wine in the cellar, does he simultaneously strip away character ? Is all sense of place lost ? And does it matter ? Lets take a look at two of his wines, and see if we can figure this out.

Clos de Los Siete 2006 $20 . A blend of Malbec, Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah. Rolland takes the finished wine from seven vineyards and creates this cuvee. From the back label "A new star is born: with seven points and symbolising ambition and conviction". I, for one didn't need the back label for that, I could see the ambition on the front label, and taste it in the glass. The wine is big, but not massive, new oak is present and it's obvious he is a practiced hand. He has made barrique his servant, not his master. The wine is more complicated than I expected but that may simply be from the inherent advantage of blending varietals. But no stones, no soil. None of the vast tracks of alluvial washes are represented here. Argentina itself is absent in this glass.

Cuvelier Los Andes 2005 $24 One of the seven wineries contributing wine to Clos de Los Siete. The Cuvelier family, who own the vineyard, are also the proprietors of both Chateau Leoville-Poyferre and Chateau Le Crock. Rolland consults for them in the production of this wine. Many French wine families such as the Rothschilds and the Marnier-Lapostolles have established wineries in Argentina and Chile over the past few decades. Many of them have set out to make Bordeaux, and others have set out to use Bordeaux varietals, including Carmenere, to find the voice of Argentina's vineyards. Don Melchor being the best example of the former and Clos Apalta the best example of the latter.

Rolland has done neither. The wine has a tremendous volume of flavor, and a powerful fruit expression. Tannins are firm, but well tamed, providing the basis for opulent fruit of great depth. Massive wine, very fat, much heavier on the new oak, and the perceptible unctuousness of glycerin. The wine is largely Malbec, that Bordeaux varietal well suited to Argentina, with Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Merlot, Petit Verdot in supporting roles. But the Malbec, instead of expressing itself as definitively Argentine, is confused by Syrah. Do we really need Syrah here?

The wine is certainly a crowd pleaser, and it tastes great as far as that goes. Actually drinking it is a bit fatiguing, and it is hard to imagine the food that pairs with this wine. The Famous beef of Argentina? Maybe, but the food would be better served by higher acidity and some earthiness, some gaminess to balance all that high toned fruit. Again, terroir is wholly absent, there is no particular sense of place. In it's stead is the very obvious hand of Rolland, for whom winemaking is a top down relationship between himself and the land. The wine rises not from the vineyard but from the mind of the winemaker, and the demands of the market.

Fuck This Shit

2008-11-03T15:20:00.000-08:00

I got a text message from one of my favorite sales people today. He is one of my favorite for the simple reason that his wines are better than most, by far. He was just in the store tasting me on wine last week and they were the best wines I have seen in months. But today instead of just sending me a note telling me of exciting arrivals or better yet his personal favorites, wines he's know for years, estates he's visited again and again, he sent be a brief synopsis of The Wine Advocate's review for one of his Barolos.

Et Tu Michael? This was made all the more unpleasant by the fact that it was my day off and I was in a dark room meditating on the Buddha, as I do every Monday. My prompt reply was that perhaps he should fuck Robert Parker,"and I don't mean that gentle boy-love of two Cubscouts on their first camping trip, but the punishing sex of a prison shower."

He replied that perhaps I was bitter, and that may be, but I've never been called an asshole, not in New York. So I went about my day. When I got home I started to make a stir fry of broccolini, red pepper and shrimp with little thai peppers that I grow right here in the Brickhouse. I have a beautiful bottle of Breton Bourgeuil, but that's not quite right for this particular application. So I dug around in the 'fridge and pulled out a free sample that was given to me in the spirit of kindness and commerce. In that spirit I'm not going to reveal it's name because, Jesus what's the point, swing a dead cat, hit a bottle of shitty wine or some other glorified piece of mediocrity in this world. My point, hopefully is more profound.

That point is this, as I drink this wine I realize that I could write a perfectly relevant, seemingly critical review that nonetheless avoided the fact that the wine just tastes bad.

To Wit;

"This inexpensive little wine delivers Sauvignon Blanc character clearly rooted in the New Zealand style. Pronounced herbaceousnecss up front, rests on dramatic tropical fruit and vibrant acidity. Best with seafood, especially shellfish."-Jim Morrison

Here's another review I found on line of the same wine.

"A refreshing, crisp white that has very good Sauvignon Blanc character. Solid fruit flavours (green apple, citrus and a hint of tropical) with good acidity make it a versatile white for grilled fish and seafood. "

And Finally Parker's whore

"Its not often that we get so excited over a $10 white wine, but this stuff is so good for so little, we really love it. All the flavor and complexity that you would want (gooseberry, minerals, grapefruit, sour apple tang) in a $17+ Sauvignon Blanc for a lot less. A wonderful aperitif, or perfect seafood and salads.

Wine Advocate No notes. Score: 85. —Jay Miller, June 2007. "

Once more, this time with feeling,

This is definitely Sauvignon Blanc, or more accurately someone's idea of Sauvignon Blanc. It has all the elements of Sauvignon Blanc, but those elements are poorly integrated, they rattle around inside the wine like a bunch of doorknobs in a pillowcase. Reminds me of a dinner salad from the 1970's, big hunks of iceberg lettuce and tomatoes that seem to have nothing to do with each other, you technically have a salad, so there is no point arguing with the waiter.

This is a wine of plausible deniability, there is nothing you can point to and complain about, grapefruit, grass, a little tropical fruit, it must be Sauvignon Blanc, and only $10 what a deal. Except it vaguely reminds me of windshield wiper fluid, a combination of soap and a solvent that won't freeze. Has it come to this? Do we continue to embrace the poor shadow of greatness just so that everyone can buy it for $10 ?

Jay Miller are you really "excited"? Do you really "really love it"? Seriously? Just be honest with me. Presumably you've had Sancerre and Pouilly Fume, with that in mind, still excited? Or is it just really great to have another value oriented, volumetric brand, complete with adorable icon, in the portfolio of one of the biggest fine wine importers?

Fuck you for helping to ruin something I love, fuck you for diminishing the world by degrees, for lowering everyone's expectations, for turning the world of wine into a room full of slack-jawed fools blathering over the considered attributes of wines with Doggies, and Horses, and Birds and Bicycles on the labels, wines from fucking nowhere.
-Jim Morrison November 2008

Sherry and the Smell of Furniture

2008-10-13T14:55:00.000-07:00

Palo Cortado in Solera

A well Polished piece of Furniture, indeed

Fred Seggerman is the elder statesman of the Connecticut wine trade. He's been in the business 50 years and can tell you not only about wine, but also about the people of wine. In other words, he is a terrible gossip, as am I. He can tell you who was putting Algerian Syrah into their Burgundy in the 1960's and who's putting Chilean Syrah into their Russian River Pinot Noir now.

As well as being versed in topics such as Italian Olive oil, Fred is an expert on Sherry, a topic I've never quite mastered. Not so long ago, Fred brought me a bottle of Palo Cortado. He insisted "This is old wine" , "How old?" , "Oh who the hell knows, old. Just try the damn stuff"

I had my second bottle last night, and it reminded me of my childhood and the smell of freshly polished furniture. The smell of Connecticut cherry, two hundred years old, gleaming with fresh lemon oil. The smell of a Piecrust Tea table or the Block and Shell of a well made desk, polished, and with the bitter citrus smell of lemon oil. In a room of polished Walnut paneling and the smell of a thousand things that happened once a long time ago. Wistfully I chased the scents into the glass, remembering a previous life.

Hank's Dinner

2008-10-06T16:11:00.000-07:00

Dinner at Hank's Sunday Night

Inama Du Lot 2006
Naiades Verdejo 2006

Dr Loosen Uziger Wurtsgarten 2005 Kabinett
Sybille Kuntz Scharz Riesling 2005

Cantina Del Pino Barbaresco Orvello 2001 in Magnum

Ch Beaucastel Chateauneuf-Du-Pape 1983, 1985, 1989
One of my favorite wines of all time, if for no other reason than I have a deep history with the wine going back many vintages. Once, I even did a vertical tasting with Marc Perrin of the 2004, 2003, 2001, 1995, 1989, 1985, 1983, 1978, as well as several vintages of the Rousanne V.V.. Beaucastel ages better than any wine I've ever had, there I said it. The 1978 and 1983 are still drinking beautifully, they get finer and lighter as they age obviously, but still show no sign of being in decline. I've even done head to heads with Ch Rayas and even once Beaucastel 1983 vs. Ch Latour 1982. When the dusk settles and you get past the fame of the other suitors for your palate, I still prefer Beaucastel, it is my tongue's favorite lover. There is an intrinsic advantage to varietal blending, in terms of complexity, and what can I say about Mouverde that hasn't been said before in song and story...

And the best piece of Lamb I've ever had. I pleaded for the recipe.

"Saute onions, leeks, garlic, shallots
add one half bottle white wine per 6 shanks
remove zest from one lemon per 6 shanks and quarter lemon, putting it with the vegetables. slice 3 medium carrots and 3 stalks of celery, add to the mix.
the add chicken stock add 1-2 T chopped fresh mint add 2-3 T tomato paste

Cook

Brown 6 shanks, either in pan or coat lightly with flour and roast at 425 for a while.
Put shanks in a single layer in roasting pan, cover with mixture and add chicken stock to bring level half way up the shanks. Place in 350 over covered for 1.5 hours; then uncover and cook 45 minutes, turn shanks over and cook further. The sauce will thicken. Cook until the meat nearly falls off the bone.

I also took some of the chicken stock and cooked it with finely grated potato for thickening, and added it to sauce in roasting pan.. Towards end stir in several Tps of chopped mint and the lemon zest.

I think that is it.

-Hank"

A Quick Defense of Riesling, and the Perception of Terroir

2008-09-29T15:44:00.000-07:00

The Fabled Vineyards Whelener Sonnenuhr, Erdener Pralat, and a Close-up of the Blue State of Bernkastele

Terroir is the sense of place of a wine, the characteristics of that wine that preclude it from coming from anywhere except it's actual origin. It is the sum total of all the elements that create the wine itself, and no grape better transmits that sense of place better than Riesling.

With Riesling, there is a dynamic tension between the sweetness of the fruit and the fruit's acidity. This pulls the wine open, making it transparent, we taste the wine, but also through it, and into the soil and stone from whence it came. It is because of this openness that Riesling is the great transmitter of Terroir, the perfect lens through which to examine the Vineyards of the Mosel.

Pre-Phylloxera Vines in Rioja

2008-09-23T20:59:00.000-07:00

Rioja is an ancient wine region in north central Spain. Phoenician settlers were producing wine in Rioja by the 11th century B.C.E., and it has continued there unabated for three millennia. The region is a large basin filled with alluvial deposits of limestone, sand and red ferruginous clay, washed down from the Sierra Cantabria mountains by eons of melting glaciers, ice age after ice age.

By the 1890's phylloxera, a root louse, had come to Rioja and the vineyards were devastated. The solution was to graft Vitis Vinifera, like Tempranillo, to hearty American rootstock, which is resistant to the pest. As with the great wine producing regions of France and Italy, the vineyards of Rioja were replanted en masse. Ungrafted ancient vines are almost impossible to find in Rioja, but they do exist.

Most of the vineyards of Rioja are on plateau, or low lazy hills of red clay and hard scrabble dirt, but just above the banks of a small creek I found a bed of white sand and some truly ancient vines. The fine dry sand, barren of organic matter or humus, was inhospitable to everything, except vines that could send tap roots dozens of feet down in search of food and water. Even phylloxera, the tenacious little aphid, could not survive the barren soil.

This vineyard, free from phylloxera, had never been replanted, all of it's vines were on original rootstock. When a vine is grafted, scar tissue forms a small necrosis which ultimately leads to the vine's demise by inhibiting it's ability to absorb water and nutrients. An ungrafted vine, free from this defect, can live for hundreds of years. The vines in front of me were at least 120 years old.

As a vine gets older it produces ever decreasing quantities of better and better fruit. Vines of this age are prized. Their fruit produces wine of tremendous concentration, with a texture that can be mimicked with extraction techniques and new American oak but never quite achieved.

As these vines had aged and their yields had fallen, one arm had been driven down into the soil where it reemerged as a new vine. The offspring in turn had also been woven back down into the soil, and again a new, younger vine arose. In front of me were three generations of Temparnillo , all connected, one glorious vine. Grandfather, Father, and Son.

Special Thanks to Drew Viner who had the presence of mind to take photos, while the rest of us ate and drank like Satyrs

Special Club Champagne

2008-09-22T11:27:00.000-07:00

I opened a bottle of Gaston Chiquet 1999 Special Club Champagne Friday night. These wines go through two rounds of blind tasting, by the winemakers themselves, before they can be released in their squat little bottles, with their old fashioned labels, looking like something you might be served on a White Star or Cunard line.

Upon first sip my vision blurred and I stared out a window that wasn't there. The wine was vertigo inducing, such was it's depth. It was like falling into wine more than drinking it. It was broad, a thousand rivulets woven into one wide cataract. The wine was profound, yet other than it's extreme quality, age and extended yeast contact, the wine was for the most part quite classic. This was to change dramatically.

We pulled the wine off the ice. It is my habit with Champagnes of this quality to serve them cold, but drink them slowly over hours, letting the wine warm, breathe, open up, even go flat. It is an exercise in discipline to simply nibble at something so delicious, as it is a leap of faith to let your $70 Champagne go warm . Yet, I have done this many times, and while I don't always know where I'm going, I know I'm going somewhere.

So we put down the Champagne. My head was swimming from one sip. I needed a bracer. So out came the Gaja Sperss Grappa, made from Nebbiolo pomace from the Sperss vineyard and Angelo's $400 wine. It was perfect with a plate of charcuterie and cheese. Properly tuned up, we sat to dinner and cracked a bottle of 1983 Cheateau Cantemerle.

The Bordeaux was a little past prime, thin of texture, lacking the fruit and volume, muscle and penetration of flavor one would expect from Bordeaux. I, of course loved it. What it lacked on the plate, it had retained on the nose. From the first smell, I was taken. Dried rose petals, horse hide blanket, the smell of wet gravel, and the very smell of your lover after sex.

The rest is somewhat of a blur. I distinctly remember having two glasses in my hands, one filled with 1999 Special Club Champagne, the other with 1983 Bordeaux. I remember trying to break my mind and confuse my senses, smell the Bordeaux, and drink the Champagne, back and forth until everything was gone, including the Grappa. In the morning I had an E-mail from Dr Hank Mann, apparently in response to this missive that I had sent him the night before.

" I found some stupid good Champagne. Gaston Chiquet Special Club 1999, disgorged 2007 (!!!!) that's 8 years on the lees. It's like a Spatlese by Willie Shafer, all Orange blossom and tropical fruit, shored up by a briney little breeze of caper berries, with brioche curtains, and a Chardonnay coffee table. "

R Wines Boarding Pass Shiraz

2008-09-20T15:28:00.000-07:00

Jay Miller, taken from Robert Parker's The Wine Advocate

"The 2005 Shiraz was aged in French and American oak for 12 months. Purple-colored, it is very expressive, with a nose of smoke, spice box, blackberry, and blueberry jam. Layered, supple-textured, sweet, and full-bodied, this seamless, crowd-pleasing wine offers a remarkably long finish for its humble price. Drink this awesome value over the next 6-8 years. The Boarding Pass label is just that, a dead ringer for an airplane boarding pass. According to Dan Philips, it is like going on a trip to Australia without leaving home while the First Class is a luxury upgrade. Aside from the humor, these two wines have more in common with Fed-Ex, delivering the goods right on time. R Wines is a new company founded by importer and marketing genius, Dan Philips, along with co-owner, renowned winemaker, Chris Ringland. 92 PTS "

Stephan Tanzer of The International Wine Cellar reviewing the same wine, sent to me by wine professionals who like Irony

"Inky ruby. Raspberry and blackberry aromas are complemented by cinnamon, nutmeg and vanilla. Sweet dark berry preserve qualities verge on sickly but are firmed by gentle tannins, which barely keep the wine's sweetness in check. Many wine lovers will find this undrinkable. At least one foot here is squarely planted in the critter-label school of cloyingly sweet beverage products that contain alcohol. (The 2005 First Class Shiraz South Australia was cartoonishly confectionary, with off-putting mucoid texture and disturbing persistence. The 2006 Evil Cabernet Sauvignon South Australia smelled and tasted like chocolate-coated asparagus, while the aptly named 2006 Suxx Shiraz South Australia and 2006 "r" Cabernet Sauvignon Barossa Valley both resembled wine.)"

An Occasion for Champagne

2008-09-01T01:34:00.001-07:00

As you leave the city on an asphalt path into the hills of Ledyard you are flanked by the old hardwood forests of Connecticut. At night they are thick and deep, and as I ride my motorcycle to Shane's house, I'm reminded of Joseph Conrad's description of the jungle. I too am traveling up river, borne on a well worn Harley whose churning engine under the late summer sky is positively hypnotic.

I arrive and six or seven people are barbecuing. I begin drinking immediately. I start with Francois Cazin Cour-Cheverny, a wine made from the local grape Romartin. It drinks something like a Sauvingnon Blanc or a Chenin Blanc, which makes sense hailing as it does from the Loire Valley in France. The fruit and texture of the wine are reminiscent of Vouvray, with a clean and focused finish you would expect from Touraine Sauvignon Blanc. There is also, thankfully, that herbal, slightly vegetal note that I've come to call Loire Garrigue, a slight greenish flavor that is present in all good Loire wines and serves as a signature or thumbprint left on the wine by it's origin. It's the smell of broken vines as you push through the brambles looking for more blackberries.

Then a very pleasant suprise as Loree breaks out two bottles of H. Billiot Rose Champagne. This is my favorite Rose Champagne. After years of drinking Billecart-Salmon with it's fine and delicate flavors, it's high toned aromas and ethereal fruit, I've come to love Billiot in it's place. Where Billecart is a summer breeze at the shore, Billiot is an off shore wind filling the sail that is your tongue, pulling your entire palate out into the deep water.

Billiot is a very small estate producing only 3570 cases of wine from 5 hectare, all limestone Grand Cru. The wine is defined by it's ripe and muscular Pinot Noir. Billiot does not put it's wine through malolactic fermentation, nor do they use a dosage. Therefore the fruit, that Cote d'Or-esque fruit, sits on lightning acidity that delivers the red berry flavors with a fullness and volume, a precision and force that belies it's relatively light rose color. I nurse the wine with my nose, poking at it with my senses, turning it over in my mouth and in my mind.

We drank and ate, and started a bonfire for amusement, a fallen pine tree ample fuel for our fire. We lit unfiltered cigarettes and danced under a sky littered with stars, and waited for the cops to come.

Thanks to Larry St. Pierre who provided these Photos.
To visit Larry, who is a hell of a nice guy, go to www.stpierrephoto.com

Pian Del Ciampolo and Michael Kane

2008-08-30T12:15:00.000-07:00

Last year Pian Del Ciampolo was the great red wine discovery of the year for me. So beautiful and sincere, true to Sangiovese and true to Tuscany. Everything I could possibly say about it however is dwarfed by an e-mail I received from Michael Kane. I sold only a few bottles of this wine, choosing instead to drink most of them myself, but every time I did sell one I printed out Michael's e-mail. Like the wine, what makes Michael great to work with is his sincerity, believe it or not he wrote this without a sense of irony, this is the way the man speaks.

"As pure and authentic, neither manipulated nor molested, an expression of noble Sangiovese as one could ever hope to find! Supple, suave, silky, a precision-tooled definition to both aroma and flavor, and, as always, exhibiting supreme balance, Pian del Ciampolo is a tour de force in the 2005 vintage. How does the Manetti family capture such depth, such brilliance in this wine and at the same time display such deft restraint? Ah, the secret is born on the prevailing north wind that blows through the cool canyons on the backside of Radda!"

for more

www.madrose.com

Dialogue with a winemaker

2008-08-29T18:37:00.000-07:00

"In spite of the occasional profanity and less-occasional rant (which, come to think of it, may be what a blog is), I find yours interesting, amusing, and very well said and refreshingly well spelled."

Jim
"Rant, yeah well, if you are looking for a reasoned argument, you're talking to the wrong guy. "

"I think that you (what I know) and your blog (what I've read) are very reasonable indeed. It's just forcefully said.
Let's put it this way: We all know there will be R. Parkers and a long list of others who will sell us tripe (fig.) because we're ready to buy. That ain't changing. And what you say about him and about that whole misguided way of reducing the universe-to-be-discovered by elevating a few crappy nadas (100 points!) is so true. What you say against that reduction is interesting, but the light really comes on when you argue for a richer, more positive view - your view.
I certainly intended no affront by using the "r" word."

Jim
"I try to do a little of that in the Nutmeg piece and the 2006 Burgundy preview, but seriously no one cares. However, there is a lot of pent-up anger toward R.P. , yet few, very few people are in a position to criticize him. I am the only person I know able and willing to say that he doesn't know what he's doing. I spent hours researching, looking for one piece of criticism published about Parker. I found nothing. "

"Interesting. I assumed there was a whole world of winemakers who truly didn't care what R.P. said. I generally believe monoliths point the way to their own demise, but I guess that's not true here. I'll keep reading."

Jim
"The point is that there are many winemakers who disagree with him, but no one willing to publicly criticize him. The people who make, import, distribute and retail wine are not in a position to bite the hand that feeds them. And Monoliths may point the way to their own demise, yet men like this can do much damage. There are now two or three generations of winemakers and wine drinkers laboring under the hegemony of Parker. How many generations does it take to lose a tradition? How fast does a culture die? "

Wines You Can't Drink

2008-08-21T07:12:00.000-07:00

In this month's Wine Spectator Matt Kramer has a article that got me thinking. I've always sort of liked Kramer, simply because he is the most reasonable of what I consider an unreasonable and ludicrous bunch, the wine press. He has real insight, although he seldom takes the argument all the way and I can't tell if it's because Marvin Shanken signs his paycheck or if he is quite literally a half-wit.

This month he writes that the 21st century world of wine will be divided into the wines we taste and the wines we drink. Even a generation ago First Growth Bordeaux and Grand Cru Burgundy were affordable enough to be consumed if not everyday, at least routinely. Now even those of us who work in the industry are lucky if we drink wine like that a few times a year, while the average wine lover may never taste a bottle of Haut Brion or Montrachet, and if they do it will be nothing more than a taste. Kramer writes that this tasting in place of actual drinking is a virtual wine experience, a virtual relationship with wine. I agree with him wholeheartedly as far as he goes, but then I got thinkin'. While it's sad that much of the great wine of the world has been relegated to the fringe of our drinking experience because of price, isn't it just as sad that much of the wine in the world was never MADE to be drunk, it was made only to be tasted.

Many times I've been to a friend's house for dinner and with great ceremony they show their hospitality by opening one of the stars of new wine, Numanthia, Quilceda Creek, Shafer Hillside, Kosta Browne etc, and my first thought is, "how the hell am I going to get through that?" Drinking those wines, actually drinking them is like marching through a swamp in heavy boots, a sticky exhausting affair. God forbid some poor chef has made great food only to have their work undone by the heavy hand of Chris Ringland, it's embarrassing. That is not to say that those wines don't deserve the scores that they get.

However, the 100 point score should be qualified with a disclaimer "100 points, this wine is an absolute marvel, it shows best when consumed in a single sip while standing on a loud synthetic carpet in a over-lit hotel banquet room. Ill-suited for food, the wine is both ponderous and awkward at the dinner table. Will contradict most cuisines and be undone by anything less inert than water."

In other words the wine has been created, from over-ripening in the vineyard, to over-extraction and over-oaking in the winery, to do nothing but garner scores from people who are not actually drinking them. This my friends is a problem.

One of these two men is a psychopath

2008-07-27T15:10:00.000-07:00

I just watched Mondovino, I laughed, I cried, I made death threats. The interviews with Robert Parker... This! This is the man we are all listening to? I mean look at that haircut, holy shit. And then they cut away to the old picture of him with more hair and it's worse! Jesus Christ, dude go to a salon, they're called hair products. Parker's proclaimed preference for young wine (even first growths?) is not surprising given his love of Californian wine, I just can't believe that he admits to it on camera, such is his arrogance. He says he loves the vibrancy, he says, "The older I get, the younger I like them," with a wink and a nod, and certain sexual implications, but I don't think he would know good wine or pussy if he saw it. Could it be that maybe his palate, that million dollar palate is just dying?

To say you like the vibrancy of a young Staglin over the fractal complexity of an old Bordeaux, or Chateauneuf or Burgundy is like saying Led Zeppelin is better than Mozart, it's more vibrant. Thing is I don't think Parker ever discovered Mozart. And I don't think his mind or palate can really grasp the nuances of an old, terroir driven wine. I think he will always take flash and beauty over truth and culture. That just makes him a fool. What makes him dangerous is that so many people follow suit and believe that a bottle of Screaming Eagle is the pinnacle of the wine world. Equally tragic is his insistence on seeing himself as an agent of the "democratization" of wine. Yet the fruits of his labor, the globalization of wine and the hegemony of aesthetic , have only served to strengthen the position of wealthy wine aristocracy like the Frescobalis and the Rothschilds.

And James Suckling (has ever a man had a more appropriate last name), what can I say, another self-absorbed, self-centered, self-congratulatory baby boomer. The idea that there is anything cultural or historic in the world that he is not aware of is absurd to him. He is just another post war T.V. baby (I wonder if he watched Daniel Boon and had a coon skin cap?) , largely ill-equipped to understand the scope of what he writes about . For Suckling, culture is a flower whose beauty is only manifest upon his perception of it. If this were a Greek tragedy we would simply have to wait for an angry god to strike them dead for their hubris. Unfortunately, this isn't Euripides, this is the fucking wine business.

Nutmeg Article

2008-07-07T20:32:00.000-07:00

I want a wine to taste like it came from some place, and was made by somebody. This is the flippant American equivalent of the French concept of "terroir", the idea that wine, more than a product, is a representation of a place and it's culture. Properly made, we should be able to taste the grapes of the vine, taste through them into the soil below, and sense the hand of the winemaker deftly coaxing out their subtle expression.

Unfortunately, most of the big brands of wine that people are familiar with are simply that -- brands. They are wineries in name only, with little or no land behind them. They sell a beverage based on grape juice like Coke and Pepsi sell a beverage based on corn syrup, the flavor of which is decided upon not by tradition and terroir, but by a marketing department with multiple target focus groups. This mass-market approach to wine is the same process that gave us the TV sit-coms of the 1980's and the "Cool Ranch Dorito". Hardly what you'd call an artisanal process.

So, what does that mean? It means, if you are drinking Yellow Tail, Sutter Home, Robert Mondavi Private Selections, Beringer, or Blackstone, for God's sakes stop. There's just no truth to those products -- there's no honesty, no identity, no authenticity. If you miss out on that authenticity, on a wine's ability to describe a time and place, to unfold in front of you with infinite complexity, haunting you with ephemeral glimpses of beauty, then you miss out on wine itself and you should just drink whiskey.

The only thing those wineries do well is marketing, creating an imaginary "package store pastoral" -- the image of a wizened old man tending bucolic vineyards -- vineyards that in many cases just don't exist. Sure, Robert Mondavi was a real man, but he didn't own the land to produce the 1.9 million cases sold last year labeled with his name. Beringer last year produced 8.63 million cases of wine. Imagine the industrial nature of that production.

Your alternative is authentic wine, produced by farming and traditional artisanal winemaking methods -- but you are going to have to buy wine from places where they don't speak English. I recently visited one such winery in Cafayte, Argentina: Michel Torino.

To get there you drive for three hours through the bad lands of Salta. Mile after mile of what looks like the Grand Canyon brings you to the vineyards of Michel Torino, the highest vineyards in the world. As you stand between the vines eating grapes, you are surrounded by the Andes, and flocks of parrots fly low through the vineyards. As I watched the local farm hands tend the vines I realized that I was among the Inca. Where their people before them had farmed blue potatoes, they grew the purple grapes of Malbec, the black grapes of Tannat, and the Alabaster grapes of Torrontes.

This is high desert, 6000 ft above sea level, and very little rain falls here. The constant sun, dry soil and the cool breezes of the mountains create the ideal micro-climate for Torrontes. It's as if Torrontes is the blonde, handsome daughter of Viognier and Sauvignon Blanc. The nose is a bouquet of lilies and orange flower blossoms above a spicy core of nutmeg, cinnamon and allspice. One then expects the wine to be ripe and unctuous, without sufficient structure. But as the sun ripens in Cafayate, so does the mountain breeze cool the grapes, and the wine maintains it's acidity and it's focus.

The nose, so round and lush, tapers into a broad, firm wine on the palate, and finishes with a crisp, linear acidity. This contrast of seemingly contradictory elements is the wine's greatness and the wine maker's genius. How can it smells so luscious, such a riot of fruit and spice, yet be so proportional, so balanced and well integrated on the palate? That is wine, the result of a vineyard, its farmers and a winemaker.

As with all good wine, Torrontes co-evolved with the food of the region. It's no surprise that Torrontes was perfect with goat empanadas under a desert sun at lunch -- what was surprising was that it worked equally well with the prosciutto and strawberries at breakfast. It's crispness has since proven ideal for shrimp, scallops and lobster, while its fruit and floral notes give it body enough to pair with Thai, Indian and Schezuan food.

As I stood over a barrel with the wine maker tasting his cloudy nascent wine, his face imploring me to like it, I remember thinking how invested he was in his wine, how connected he was to what he produced. The wine and it's creator had a face, a place, and a home -- not simply an image and a website. Drink Good Wine.

Breakfast

2008-06-15T08:44:00.000-07:00

An e-mail Sent to Dr. Hank Mann, Sunday Morning-

I cooked up some duck bacon this morning. When it was done I pulled it out of the pan, leaving the rendered fat hot and ready to go. I dropped in a quarter cup of diced red onion and started to sauté. Have you ever seen onions cooking in duck fat? It is truly beautiful. I pulled them out, drained the excess fat, and started making my eggs. When they were done I was so excited that I started eating with my hands, lest washing a fork delay me in any way. By the time it was over, I was bare chested and covered in duck fat above the waist. It was not a pretty picture, but I'll send you a copy anyway. I'm going to go lie down now. I'll look into the Wild Boar's leg this week.
-Jim

2006 Burgundy preview

2008-02-24T09:44:00.000-08:00

Above Pierre Damoy looks up the word "Charming" to describe his $625 Clos de Beze V.V.

"This is old school burgundy, a little brett, a little horse saddle," "That's why I'm here," I say and carefully navigate the teams of twenty-four year olds in their $500 suits, clamoring to write something insightful about every one's first peek at the 2006 Burgundies. I am not in a suit, and I know that pleasure needs no insight. Instead I'm wearing a pair of jeans that hopefully don't make me look fat and a sweater over a crisp white shirt. I am somewhat aware that I carry with me the stink of provincialism, coming as I do from New London. The alcohol washes away this feeling, as does the realization that they are all much shorter than me. I resume drinking, and for the next two hours speak to no one, except winemakers.

I had done a little reading before going to this show. Only a little as I think wine criticism tends to poison the mind. The consensus was that 2006 had been a challenging vintage, with hail and rain. People made great wine but, not everybody, and generally speaking white was better than red. I love white Burgundy, I practically bathe in the stuff, so this was fine by me. As it turned out Chassagne, Puligny, even Corton Charlemagne, all disappointed. I started to think it was me. I had been smoking like a second job the night before, and was it four or five double whiskies at the Oasis?

Frustrated, I decided to go right to the money shot, and started drinking Clos Vougeot from every producer that had one. And the scales fell from my eyes or palate. My notes from Domaine Meo-Camuzet 2006 Clos de Vougeot, "predictably fantastic, if a little heavy on the new oak, assiduously defended by a matronly french woman." Notes from Domaine Jacques Prieur 2006 Clos de Vougeot, "Perhaps the perfect Pinot Noir, like a tenor note from Pavarotti, full yet balanced, with the whole spectrum of Burgundy within."

At the Domaine des Perdix table I approached a very attractive and well dressed man (is that vintage Yves St. Laurent ?), and began consuming quantities of his 2006 Echezeaux. This was to become, for me the best wine in the room, and I told him as much in conspiratorial tones. "I can not say such a thing," he says, "but I am glad that you have." My Notes, "best wine in room, smoky soil, raspberry, tobacco, earth, perfect level of expression, perfect volume."

You have to remember that at an event like this, when you walk up to a winemaker, you are just another schmuck with a glass, in a room full of schmucks with glasses. Salespeople, Brand managers, journalists and fake journalists. And the fact that these guys are farmers makes this metropolitan setting hopelessly trite. These people are artists who work the land to create something ephemeral yet timeless. What is more fleeting and haunting than a sniff of Grand Cru Burgundy? Yet the vineyards themselves are hundreds of years old, and these people are stewards of a tradition that spans generations. I can't help feeling that my love for them, pouring across the table is not being returned. To remedy this I resort to shameless drunken flattery seldom seen outside a Prom limo.

I lumber up to Alain Burguet, and speak to a woman I assume to be his wife. "Tell him he is a genius, and he has made me very happy" I say about his 2006 Chambertin Clos de Beze. She translates and he says thank you. Not the effect I was looking for. "Tell him that to drink his wine, is to drink the finest Burgundy has to offer, the finest France has to offer" She translates and this gets his attention, and I see it, pride. He stops what he's doing and shakes my hand. "Tell him that when I drink his wine I feel as if I am a small child, stripped bare of all pretense and expectation, tell him I stand naked before him." She translates, and it's obvious I've overstayed my welcome.

On to Domaine Pierre Damoy where I drink Gevery-Charbertin "Clos Tamiset," a monopole, Chapelle-Chambertin and Chambertin Clos de Beze , three very well made wines. I start to rewrite in my mind, perhaps these are the best wines in the room, among the best I've ever had. Then I realize that I'm far to drunk to make such declarations, besides what does it matter. The wines are simply perfect, superlatives seem redundant. I try a different tact to get to the heart of the matter. How did you make this wine?
Pierre goes on to tell me that 2006 was a hard vintage in that there was serious hail in July causing extensive vine damage. In many cases 80%-90% of the yield was lost to hail. This was followed in August by rain, the enemy of good wine. Vines being plants, they suck up the water and the fruit becomes diluted. Then there are the issues of rot and fungus, both serious threats in 2006. September however was dry with persistent wind, drying out the vines and fruit. "It was a good year for those who waited," and he waited until October 9Th to harvest a small quantity of well ripened fruit. "Enormous Tirage" that is to say, severe sorting and careful selection of fruit. So that very little fruit was turned into even less wine, but that wine was extremely well made, with intense care. At this point I realize that I have accomplished what I came here to do, drink Grand Cru Burgundy and understand the 2006 vintage. Feeling a sense of accomplishment, I leave and go to a restaurant to consume ducks.

A quick post script, I had purposely avoided any mention of filthy lucre, feeling it a violation of a sacrosanct, essentially religious experience. It wasn't until a few days later that I took a look. Meo-Camuzet Clos de Vougeot $275, Domaine Perdrix Echezeaux $255, Pierre Damoy Chambertin "Clos de Beze" $625.

Beauty and Truth

2008-02-12T16:04:00.000-08:00

"it's not so much about beauty as it is about truth" - Dave Anderson

Dave was of course referring to music. Specifically, he was making a point in our on going discussion of Miles Davis and John Coltrane, which turns out is a Rorschach test for your personality. I won't bore you with the details of that conversation, but his point got me thinking about wine and women, completing the trinity.
Big California wines are like large breasted actresses with injected lips. Their fame and flash draw you in, but the experience is ultimately uninteresting. Sweet overripe fruit, vanilla and sloppy behavior, that sums up the majority of my experience with California wine, and actresses.
I prefer wines of terroir, wines that have a culture and history behind them. I want wines with gaped teeth and crooked noses, that describe a place where they were born. Wines of expression, and seeming contradiction. Wines that keep you guessing, wines that are with you the next morning when you wake, and haunt you all the next day.
I would rather drink an inexpensive Cheverny, than a Napa Cabernet. There is nothing Caymus can tell me about wine or Napa, and ordering it at a restaurant to impress my friends is like bringing Pamela Anderson to my cousin's wedding.

Pet Your Food

2008-02-10T13:16:00.001-08:00

"On the slaughterhouse floor at Quality Pork Processors Inc. is an area known as the "head table," but not because it is the place of honor. It is where workers cut up pigs' heads and then shoot compressed air into the skulls until the brains come spilling out. Over eight months from last December through July, 11 workers at the Minnesota plant - all of them employed at the head table - developed numbness, tingling or other neurological symptoms, and some scientists suspect inhaled airborne brain matter may have somehow triggered the illnesses.Scientists have yet to figure out if there is something in the brain matter that could be causing the symptoms. Quality Pork has not said what it does with the pork brains"- Dow Jones Newswires.

It was this story last year that was the last straw for me. Not since Upton Sinclair's The Jungle, had the written word so changed my very intimate relationship with food. Then, as now, I was forced to look at each piece of meat with suspicion. Quality Pork processes pork for Hormel Chili, it doesn't take much imagination to figure out where the pig brains are going, (what did you think was in it?). I'm not big on Hormel Chili or Dinty Moore Stew, or Civil War Era canned horse meat, so I could probably avoid this issue altogether. But after thinking about the head table, having in turn up in my dreams, giving me pause every time I ate something I didn't make myself, I realized that gastronomic elitism wasn't going to save me. I had to face the fact the our food system has been corrupted on a major scale.
I set out to compress the distance between me and my food. Vegetables are fairly easy. There are plenty of local produce stands and farmer's markets in New london county. In the winter I just suck it up and go to the Supermarket, I figure a bag of carrots from Stop and Shop probably has a minimum of swine brains in it. It's the meat that's the hard part, coming as it does, all wrapped in plastic from who knows where.
So I went to Beaver Brook farm where they make sheep. I didn't know exactly what I was looking for, but I figured that if they looked happy and healthy, I would eat one. I approached the barn and was greeted by the guard sheep, and it was adorable. I rubbed his little head and introduced myself. He smelled like sheep, that is to say, food. Gamey, musky, earthy, like all my favorite wines, cheeses and parts of the human body. I walked into the barn and dozens of sheeps were there, basking in the low hanging afternoon sun. They stood collectively, and stared with the blankest of stares. Their ears stick straight out, their eyes are on opposite sides of their heads, pointing in different directions. It reminded me of that scene in The Birds, when Tippi Hedren is in the attic, surounded by birds, harmless birds, but hundreds waiting to attack. I leaned over the fence to get a good look at my dinner, and a sheep mooed right at me. But it wasn't a moo, it was more a Bhaaa! Then they all started doing it, hundreds of sheep moos. So I left before there was any real trouble.
I bought some cheese, lamb and frozen lamb stew, all of which was delicious. When I go to a restaurant, I like to be able to see the kitchen, and when I buy meat, I like to be able to see the barn.

Casimiro Maule

2008-02-09T07:55:00.001-08:00

I had dinner last week with Casimiro Maule, who must, by all accounts be considered one of the great winemakers of the world. The man has just completed 37 vintages at Nino Negri, and received a mind boggling 10 consecutive Tre Bicchieri from the Gambero Rosso. For those of you who do not know the Gambero Rosso, they provide the most consistent and object wine criticism in the business. Born of the Slow Food Movement, these people appreciate good wine and are able to understand it within it's historical, regional context. Not like that advertising slut of Shanken's, who will open her pages for just any old body, but I digress.
Casimiro is the wine maker at Nino Negri in the Valtalina in Lombardy Italy, just inland from Piedmonte. The entire Valtalina produces a whopping 3,000,000 bottles or just 250,000 cases. To get an idea of how low the yields are and how land intensive the wine is, the Sfursat 5 Stella requires the fruit of three vines to produce one bottle. Or put another way, each vine yields only one third of a bottle worth of fruit.The talk of yields always gets me a little excited, its like the foreplay to the consummating act.
The wines had all of the concentration you would expect from such low yields, and all the depth you would expect reflected from such harsh terroir. What makes Casimiro a great winemaker however, is his seemingly paradoxical ability to produce wine so supple and approachable in it's youth, yet possessed of an agelessness. To produce a wine so pleasurable when young yet capable of great maturation, puts you on a short list of winemakers. Angelo Gaja is on that list, Michele Rolland is not.
Of course the man didn't speak a word of English. He sat there in humble dignity, slightly embarrassed, I think, to be the center of so much attention.These whirlwind tours of the states, with a cadre of handlers, must be tough for a man used to the quiet life in the country. Still, he weathered the 20 drunken Americans with the air of a Diplomat ,and seemed genuinely touched when people, myself included, asked to have our photos taken with him.

More $1 Burgundy

2008-01-30T17:13:00.000-08:00

I just opened the 1999 Michel-Colin-Deleger Marangeres 1er La Fussiere and it's yummy. It comes across a little simple for a 1er, but the tart cherry and mushroom Pinot Noir taste are definately there. There is plenty of structure and the finish goes on for quite a bit. Like the rest , it lacks a little power and heft of flavor. It drinks like a simple bourgogne rouge, but that's ok, it cost me a frickin' dollar. So some of it is going in the marinara, and the rest is going down my gullet, as I tune up for a night of whiskey drinking at the Oasis.

Pleased with myself and my Burgundy

2008-01-27T15:13:00.000-08:00

White Burgundy

2008-01-26T08:37:00.000-08:00

Vic "The Velvet Hammer" Vicari, my sales person for Winebow came in this week with an inventory reduction list. Every distributor in the state is discounting wine, trying to get rid of wine they didn't sell during the big season. Usually it's some shit that they overbought, and even after a thousand case stacks in a thousand A&P s, they still have too much of it . Sometimes it's good wine that I buy and I'm a little miffed to see it on sale when I just bought some last month. So mostly I avoid this type of thing, but I took a look.
It was titled "cooking wine" and was a list of several 2000 and 2001 1er Cru white Burgundies, $12 a case. I couldn't resist, I bought six cases, and I bought them even after they assured me that they hadn't completely lost their minds, the wines were in fact shot. Such is the nature of my hopeless romanticism, I figured how shot could they be?
The Michel Colin-Deleger & Fils Puligny-Montrachet La Truffiere 2001 was the first bottle I cracked. The fruit was there and so was the acidity. It was a little oxidized, and the wine sort of fell apart mid palate. I would have been disappointed at $50 or $60 , but at $1 it was hard to be too critical. Then there was the sheer joy of actually cooking with 1er Cru Montrachet, dumping it on shrimp and garlic, boiling it in a pan. So much fun.
The next wine was the Michel Colin-Deleger & Fils Chassagne-Montrachet Les Chenevottes, which was thoroughly shot. It tasted like old olive oil and looked like a urine sample from someone who is suffering from dehydration. To test just how shot, I gave a bottle to a few musicians I know, a bass player, a guitar player and a saxophone player. Even they, with their great and persistent thirst, were reluctant to drink it, they did, but they hesitated.
So I don't know what to do with stuff. I am seriously considering opening each bottle and dumping it into the bathtub. The next time someone asks me if I drink a lot of white Burgundy I can literally say I bathe in the stuff.
Next Michel-Colin-Deleger et Fils Chassagne-Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumes, which was pretty damn good, again missing a little penetration of flavor considering it's a 1er, but it tasted like something you might pay $30-$35 for.
So, two cases of drinking wine and one case of bath water for $36.

Champagne AOC Expansion

2008-01-19T07:40:00.000-08:00

The French government is considering expanding the AOC region of Champagne to include forty new communes that have historically been excluded from the region. This is significant because in order for sparkling wine to bear the name of this most famous region, it must be produced from grapes grown within Champagne. As you might imagine, there are literally billions of dollars at stake.

Proponents of the expansion point out that instead of expanding the region, the government is really filling in gaps between villages already part of the Echelle de Cru. We are asked to imagine the poor french farmer, toiling in obscurity, growing his grapes outside the delimited zone. While it is true that many villages were not included in the classifications between 1919 and 1927 for reasons that have nothing to do with terroir, I find this argument a little disingenuous. Seldom does any government do anything for a handful of farmers.

So then why, and why now, and why so much? The discussion on expanding the Champagne region has been going on since the mid 1980's, but never in all that time has the pressure for more Champagne been greater and the chance for more profit as tempting. To understand some of the motivation behind the expansion, visit the Louis Vuitton Moet Hennessy web site.

LVMH, the multibillion dollar international luxury goods conglomerate, owns such brands as Moet, Krug and Veuve Cliquot. Read their quarterly reports and it becomes quite apparent that Champagne is less an artisanal agricultural product than another brand commodity like handbags, watches and Marc Jacobs socks. The 2007 third quarter report from LVMH boasts impressive growth in the wine and spirit sector of their business, 9% in the U.S., 15% in Europe and a whopping 22% in Asia. The big marque houses look to the East and wonder how on earth are they going to produce enough Champagne to get a billion Chinamen dancing on table tops at the new year?

Cognac or Champagne, it all begins in a vineyard, and when agricultural realities rub up against corporate models, problems arise. If you have a delimited region with harvest limits, the only solution for continued growth and expanding markets is material outsourcing. You can't blame these guys for thinking this way, it's their nature and their stock prices require these sorts of approaches. On the other hand, there is only so much of something that you can produce, and still call it a luxury item.

Last year the Champagne region produced 30 million cases, the vast majority by the likes of LVMH. Again, according to their own website, LVMH sold 5 million cases in 2006 and is experiencing double digit growth in emerging markets. Industrial protocols are the antithesis of luxury and the artisanal myth surrounding Champagne. It is hard to imagine applying corporate growth and production expectations to anything agricultural and winding up with anything but shite.

So to expand or not to expand? Well, maybe. The French government has appointed a committee (there is always a committee) of experts in fields such as geography, geology, history ,agronomy, and my favorite, phytosociology. The identity of these experts however, has been kept secret in an effort to prevent influence from interested parties. Unfortunately, this has only added to the credibility problem by removing the transparency needed to gain public support.

To make matters worse, according to noted authority Tom Stevenson, "Although any new land is supposed to conform to certain criteria, such as soil, subsoil and exposure, nothing is quantified and amazingly, no minimum requirements have been set." Stevenson points out that an exhaustive geological study, known as the Zonage project, has already been done in the Zone of production. In every 50m x 50m parcel, a hole was dug to ascertain the type and nature of the soil. It is this type of objective and transparent approach that would make the whole thing seem like something more than a corporate land grab. It is a very scientific and sound approach, which is probably why I hate it.

This is not to say I disagree with using the Zonage information as a starting point to find out where the geological delimitation of Champagne stands. However, we must remember that they are essentially evaluating art and culture and that a strictly scientific approach simply misses the point. Vineyards in Burgundy and the Mosel, were delineated by monks, who answered only to God. In the upper Duero in Portugal, geologists, who can tell us where a rock and soil stop and another starts, determined the region. In each case the wine itself validated those delineations over the centuries.

So, what about the grapes, what about the wine? In Burgundy, Grand Cru wine has proven itself to be exactly that. A region like Pouilly Fuisse which has been excluded from the Cote d'Or, as it is not on the hill, has none the less proven itself a region of great wine with producers like Ch. Fuisse and Colette Ferret. So if Champagne is to be expanded, who is looking at the fruit, where's the wine in all this and how does it taste? The wine is the thing, it's absence from the center of this debate speaks volumes.

Stop me if you have heard this one... an argonist, a geologist, a historian, a geographer, a photosociologist and a sommelier walk into an AOC.....

For instance, the village of Loivre is located very near currently established Champagne communes. A soil sample reveals that the vineyards are comprised of soil and rock consistent with the rest of the region, with proper drainage and aspect to the sun. Then the wine is tasted over several vintages, then and only then is the decision to expand the AOC to include Loivre in made. A multiplicity of criteria, with the wine at the center of the decision.

The grower-producers in Champagne release " Special Club" Champagnes that go through two rounds of blind tastings. Perhaps this same peer review process could be used to insure that new producers of grapes and wine are meeting the quality and typicity expectations of Champagne. Perhaps this consolidation of the region will provide not only more fruit for Negoociants, but more wine from as of yet unknown wine producers.

Perhaps. Right now, it just looks bad. A multinational corporate land grab, and an outsourcing of raw materials, the dilution of one of the great wine regions of the world. Unless the French Government uses objective, tangible criteria and applies them transparently, the appearence of naked greed will be hard to avoid.