Loire & More

The Chateau in Angers (in warmer times)

I've been swamped with work since I got back from France in late February, so this post is a tad late.  Apologies, as usual, and all that.  In any case, the rest of the trip went smashingly well.  Aside from a super nasty bug that sidelined me for most of the Loire shows (no Dive this year, sniff sniff), my time in France was super productive (and delicious!).

While in Angers (a beautiful city, I might add), I met up with Jean-Pascal Aubron, our Muscadet producer, who says Bonjour!, as well as Pascal Pibaleau (he was just everywhere this year).  I retasted Pascal's INSANELY good 2012 Gamay, from vines planted in 1964, which underwent 18 days of carbonic maceration (he likes to take things low and slow, looking for depth and quality, not a quicky wham bam thank you Ma'am).  Guess what, Gamay's arriving in late June/early July, so get your palates ready!

Catherine & Didier Tripoz getting all impish

There were some amazingly good meals, some great wines as usual, and visits to producers in Champange and Burgundy (sadly, nothing new from the Cotes de Nuits to report yet, but I keep trying!).  While in Burgundy, I did manage to revisit Catherine & Didier Tripoz, who make our lovely Macon Charnay Clos des Tournons.  The 9 ha walled-in plot is composed of 12 parcels of varying ages, and boy did we get geeky: we tasted each one and it was fascinating to see what they did even when handled in the same manner.  Didier hand-picks each parcel and vinifies each separately since they're differing ages.  Each one offers something unique, so Didier assembles them only once they've done their own fermentations (in steel and cement tanks - no oak here!).

After a short relaxing stay in Paris, it was back to NYC and back to the grind (or I guess the press in this case).  Our business has exploded in the past 24 months, so it was time to tend to things.  I'd have much preferred staying in the vineyards of Europe, but alas someone has to import and sell them here.  And that someone is me (well, I'm one of the someones doing it, but you get the idea). But I still LOVE this job, even if it's super difficult somedays.

Things have gotten crazy.  As of June 2013 we're in 11 states, and pushing hard to grow.  New Orleans has been one of our biggest surprises and biggest markets, we're working with an amazingly awesome team call Uncorked.  Great people, great food, great fun every time I've been down there.  Vermont is also turning into a nice change of pace, and Maine has begun picking up.  It's been a tough slog, there's a lot of competition (especially in NY, it seems like a new importer/distributor is popping up every day - I know of some stores dealing with 65 wholesalers), but the US is thirsty for more.

Which brings me to the next news: we've picked up some great new producers, so look for some new labels in Fall.  One of them is a small Biodynamic producer from the Gaillac region of Southwest France, northeast of Toulouse.  You'll meet Nicolas Lebrun doing some crazy work in his fields, working with indigenous grapes like Duras, Braucol (Fer Servadou), Loin de l'Oeil (white) and Prunelart.  The wines are big and dark and velvety but beautifully balanced with sparkling minerality and long long finishes.  I had a bottle of his basic Gourmand Sec Rouge (Duras, Braucol) that took 7 days before it faded.  This stuff ROCKS.

Look for this label in Fall, coming to a store near you (hopefully!)

Best of all, I am pretty sure this will retail around $16-17, and will be perfect for the cooler weather or BBQs in summer 2014.  I am so excited about his wines it's not even funny.  And I'm getting just as excited for our other new wine, as we're branching out from France and Spain to... Italy!  Ciao Italia!  We found a lovely small farmer Organic Chianti, which again should retail under $20.  More details to come, but we keep looking for new small Organic or Biodynamic producers to import and get to a store near you.

Frankly I haven't been this energized in a while, and planning for Fall and the future is taking up all my time.  If you can't tell, I am really jazzed for what's to come.  Heck, we even hired a COO (granted, I'm cheating a tad, it's my wife, but she is quite the slave driver), as well as a part-time salesperson for the NY market.  AND we're talking to another salesperson.  I guess it's a testament to the quality of our wines that folks are coming to me and asking to rep our wines.

Which is why I've let this blog slide a bit, shamefully.  Once again, I apologize.  Next time you see me, feel free to berate me and if I have an open bottle I'll pour you an extra-large glass of wine.  I promise to do to a better job at this.  Plus I forgot how much I loved writing, though there's no telling if you enjoy reading this.

In any case, more to come, soon...
Cheers!

Meet Champagne Bourgeois-Diaz

 

Jérome Bourgeois, winemaker
Anyone who reads this blog knows I like Champagne. Heck, let's be honest, I LOVE Champagne. I do like other bubblies (especially Cremants and Perlants, some Cavas and Proseccos too), but the French stuff is where it's at for me. Maybe it's genetic, who knows? So as someone who represents small, high-quality growers, it's killed me that I couldn't find a good Champagne at the right price point. Until now.

 

Harvesting grapes
I was turned on to Champagne Bourgeois-Diaz in, of all places, Montpellier, which is in the South, nowhere near the Champagne region. A friend in the business in France proferred a glass and said "Tais-toi et bois" ("Shut up and drink"). Lo and behold, here was a gorgeous bubbly, tart with bright acidity and minerality, with lovely, lively fruit aspects. What is this, I inquired, and he showed me the bottle. A few quick calls and emails, and poof, here we are.

 

Stainless steel fermenting tanks
This tiny family-owned estate farms their own 7 hectares (17.29 acres), scattered around the town of Crouttes-sur-Marne, south-west of Reims. The vineyards are planted on clay and chalk soils, and composed of 55% Pinot Meunier, 30% Pinot Noir and 15% Chardonnay and have a south-west exposition. All the wines are made using a traditional basket press, with a minimal dosage (9g/l for the Brut), and while the basic cuvée is aged in stainless steel, the higher end bottlings see some light oak ageing.

 

Oak ageing some of the wines
Jérome Bourgeois, the young winemaker, believes in showcasing his terroirs, and this is evident in the final product, which is both reflective of the high quality fruit he gets and a platform for the land’s characteristics.

To achieve this purity of expression of the land's character, Jérome has gone biodynamic. What does this mean? No man-made chemicals are ever used, a careful ecological balance is maintained in the vineyard by allowing cover crops to grow between the rows (check out the wild-looking vineyard in the picture above), and the biodynamic calendar is scrupulously followed, among other things. Whether you believe in biodynamie or not, maintaining a healthy vineyard and not polluting the earth can't be half bad. And the end product reflects this: the wines are alive with an energy one doesn't find in the mass-market bubblies out there.

 

Filling the old-time basket press with Pinot Noir
Jérome currently makes four different cuvées:
-the Brut Distinguée (40% Pinot Meunier, 40% Chardonnay - of which 20% is vin de réserve - and 20% Pinot Noir);
-the Rosé Distinguée (an assemblage 40% Pinot Meunier, 40% Chardonnay and 20% Pinot Noir, of which 18% is AOC Champagne still red wine);
-the Cuvée du Fils is a wine that sees some oak-ageing and is composed of 40% Pinot Meunier, 30% Pinot Noir and 30% Chardonnay (half of which sees wood);
-Lastly, the 2004 Le Millesime is a blend of 50% Pinot Noir and 50% Chardonnay, aged in oak barrels until Jérome feels it’s ready.

Look for this label soon!
Best of all, Jérome is not afraid to experiment: his next projects will be a Zero Brut (no dosage added) and a Rosé de Saignée (meaning extended skin contact to extract the necessary color and flavor profiles).

I will be showing these wines around to various distributors in the next few weeks, so hopefully one of them will see the light and pick him up. How cool would it be to serve these wines sometime this Fall? Wish me luck!
Cheers!

Giddy Wines

 

Giddy wines? What are giddy wines? They are wines that make you sit up and smile, wines that are so lovely and well-made that they remind you why you like wines, and perhaps these particular wines, in the first place. If all wines did that the novelty of finding such a thing would wear off and instead we'd be living in a world where "everyone is special so no one is special." And that would be no fun.

Instead, wines, like life, have their highs and their lows. Luckily, I didn't just find one vinous high point last night (I did give a hint, "wines" in the title is plural), I didn't just find two, I found a whopping three, count 'em, three giddy wines. As you can imagine, I hit the pillow with a grin you could see from space.

I was celebrating a late Thanksgiving with Mom and a friend, and since I detest turkey (I've said it previously and it still holds true), I decided to roast a whole duck. I did this last Thanksgiving and it was a smashing success. Last night was no different, I am happy to report.

We began the night with a bottle of NV Veuve Fourny Brut Premier Cru. If you're looking for fruity, sweet bubbly, this ain't it. It's like drinking liquid steel in a mesh of fine bubbles. It makes your mouth pucker. This is masochistic Champage. I love it.

 

Next, as we sat down to dinner, I poured a bottle of 1998 Domaine Dujac Clos St Denis. One whiff of this and I almost burst into tears. This is the smell that proves the existence of God. Beautiful, muddy cherries wrapped in that underbrush smell (sous-bois in French), a real musk that envelops the senses and refuses to disappear. The wine in the mouth is the same, flowing over the palate and gripping you, refusing to let go, not wanting to be forgotten, a presence, a weightless weight that just seems to dance effortlessly on the tongue. Wow. I think I just fell in love with Burgundy again.

 

To say it went well with the roasted duck, sauteed wild mushrooms and roasted herb and garlic potatoes would be the understatement of the year.

 

Finally, a bottle open the previous night with some seafood pasta, a 2004 William Fevre Chablis 1er Cru Fourchaume. That night it was a slightly honeyed, lemony and minerally wine that was quite delicious but nothing special. What a difference 24 hours in the fridge made... The moment I opened this, I was almost bowled over by the thickness of the aroma. It was like a velvet glove to the nose, full of cheesy scallops and almonds and citrus notes. Wow. At this point, I may have had actual tears streaming down my face.

Yeah, these are the moments we live for. These are wines that make me giddy. Giddy wines.
Cheers!

Sunny bubbles

It's sometimes amazing how a wine can remind you of certain sights, sounds and smells. But then again, drinking wine is not just about its taste but also about the entirety of the experience, whether its hedonistic, introspective, contextual, or all three.

So over a long and lazy Labor Day weekend in La Jolla I happened upon a bottle of NV Roger Pouillon Rose. I had had a lovely bottle of a Solera-style Champagne they make in late July at the great restaurant 11 Madison Park, so I was eager to try this producer's Rose. Afterward, I also did a little research into Roger Pouillon, where he's located and how he makes his wines. I mean, I am wine geek after all, it's what I do.

So a little information: this small domaine is located in the village of Mareuil-sur-Aÿ, just north of the small city of Epernay. While they don't practice biodynamic viticulture, they do "lutte raisonnee", or sustainable agriculture, meaning they do everything they can to ensure the health of the soils and avoid nasty chemicals.

And the wine? Well, it's like a glass of sunshine-filled flowery bubbles. The fresh taste of kir, strawberries and cherries, with some creamy notes, is something that just feels and reminds one of summer. The salmon color is lovely to behold and contemplate while sitting outside with friends. Especially now that the memory of summer is fading into the cool reality of Fall.
Cheers!

Sir Winston Churchill Comes Alive

No, not that one, of course. Rather, I'm talking about a recent tasting I organized with some friends of Pol Roger's prestige cuvée, the Sir Winston Churchill Champagne. The great man was a big fan and supporter of the Pol Roger house, and of Champagne in general. In fact, he is quoted as having said of it, "In victory, deserve it; in defeat, need it." As someone who enjoys a bubbly now and then, I couldn't agree more!

 

The line-up awaits: 2000 Rose, 1986, 1988, 1990, 1996, 1998 Sir Winston Churchill
This cuvée was born in 1975, to celebrate the 10th anniversary of Winston Churchill's passing. The actual assemblage is a jealously guarded secret, but seeing how he preferred more robust Champagnes, it's likely this is a Pinot Noir-dominant wine.

We started with the 2000 Pol Roger Rose, which was very tight at first, but slowly uncoiled to show lovely flowery notes backed up by soft red berries, and a gorgeous mouthfeel that was both mouthfilling and elegant at the same time. I kept going back to this over the course of the evening and kept getting happier and happier with it. What a great way to start the night.

We had decided to do old to young, and so the first pour was also one of the best, the 1986 Pol Roger Sir Winston Churchill. It was poured alongside the 1988 Sir Winston Churchill in an attempt to revisit the Eighties. Almost from the start, the 1986 was showing better, with gorgeous notes of dark yeast, apple pie, caramel/toffee, cafe au lait, brioche, and hints of red berries. It also had that lovely musk that older Champagne sometimes gets, but which blows off quickly as the wine breathes. Gorgeous, and it developped nicely over the course of the evening. The 1988, on the other hand, had something weird going on. I thought it might be slightly corked, as I got whiffs of TCA every now and then, but then again I am SUPER sensitive to that (lucky me). Others disagreed about the cork but did agree that there was something off with it. Too bad, as I had been looking forward to trying it next to the 1986.

 

There were a few other wines too...
Next up came the Nineties, with the 1990, the 1995, the 1996 and the 1998 Sir Winston Churchill. Of the four, my favorite was the 1998 and 1995 to drink right away, the 1990 to hold and watch evolve in the glass, and the 1996 to hold for another ten years. Profile-wise, as expected, they were all relatively similar, with vintage variations coming through in terms of their openness and power. The 1990 was extremely full-bodied, as was the 1996, but the 1995 and 1998 were more (relatively) lean and easy to drink. These last two were also not as complex or promising, IMHO, as the 1990 and 1996, both of which seemed to be teasing us with greatness to come.

Overall, it was a great learning experience. The wines had many similarities as could be expected, but vintage variations really came through. As did storage, of course. But the great man was correct, Pol Roger is making some lovely wines. For a big house, this was a pretty impressive showing.

Oh, and the other wines? Well, the Burgundy was nice, but WOW was that 1937 La Tour Blanche Sauternes fantastic, with the color of Cognac. This was a wine I had to sit with for a while, if only for the history that it represented. It was gorgeous, with lovely aromas of honeyed caramel brule, figs, almonds, with whiffs of herbs, and a thick, slightly oily mouthfeel that covered the palate and then faded slowly away into the mists of time. Fantastic, and extremely generous of my friend to share.

God, I love wine.
Cheers!

The Lighter Side of Wine

 

It's been a crazy 10 days or so since the NY Times review came out, so I've been swamped with work and haven't really had time to write. Add to that the fact that I've had a serious case of Writer's Block (high frustration, low creativity), and, well, what you've got is not as much updating of this blog as I'd like. My goal was to have at least 1-2 posts per week, I'm down to 1 every 10 days. Not good.

In the meantime, I've partaken of some wonderful wine dinners and shared some great times. This got me thinking, which is never a good thing, and all of a sudden I find my fingers flying over the keyboard.

Sometimes, people take wine too seriously. It becomes the focus of the meal as opposed to something that should be enjoyed and shared among friends. Two recent events stand out: a picnic in Central Park a few weekends ago (the one Saturday it hasn't been cold or rainy), and a dinner at Peking Duck House last Friday. Both are exemplary of what wine should be, in my mind, at least.

In both cases, we had some wonderful and some not-so-wonderful bottles, yet the main motive was to gather friends together and enjoy each other's company over these bottles. Too many times I've gone to dinners and all we had in common was the wine, and the moment someone stopped talking about them all you could hear were the crickets (yes, even in the city, we have them). That quickly becomes mind-numbingly boring, and I start asking myself, "Where's my gun?" Then I recall that I am in New York, and I don't own a gun, but that bus lane is quite close and a quick leap could free me from this morbid gathering.

Wine is supposed to be fun. Yes, it's all good and nice to analyze and think about it, but at the end of the day, it's a convivial beverage that you are supposed to share with your friends and family. All the analysis should be done at the professional tastings. After that, relax and enjoy yourself. Life is too short to take so many things so seriously.

HAVE FUN.
Cheers!

A Day in Champagne

There are many nice things about being in Paris. But one of the best is being only an hour or so by car or TGV from that winemaking region so close to my heart, Champagne. Yes, Champagne... Swoon...

It's a large area, with various terrains and terroirs. In the winter, and in fact for most of the year, the weather is grey and damp, which means the grapes struggle to ripen. But it is this struggle which allows them to retain the high acidity necessary for good Champagne. The soils are mainly chalk with some limestone thrown in for good measure, and each geological feature affects the grapes differently. Limestone usually leads to bigger, brawnier wines, while chalk gives more minerality and precision to the wines.

If you're into vintage Champagne, then you should know that they are comparing 2008 to 1996: lots of acidity but lots of power, and from the few '08 vins clairs (still wines) I tasted, I have to agree. This is going to be a very nice vintage.


Our first stop was cancelled due to a death in the family, so we headed over to our second appointment, at Champagne Veuve Fourny. Located in the small town of Vertus, in the Cotes des Blancs, the family has been making Champagne since the 1930s. However, they were growing grapes as far back as the 1870s. Nowadays, two brothers, Emmanuel and Charlie, run the place. I had heard of them but had never tasted their wines so I was looking forward to this.


They also fully own the tiny plot of land known as the Clos du Faubourg Notre Dame. They make a bottling from the grapes grown in the Clos, and to say it was good would be an understatement. It was fantastic! They also own the only plot of Pinot Noir in the Cotes des Blancs (only white grapes are allowed in this area), which they use to make their rosé (both in saignée and assemblage styles).


We also got a tour of the cellars, where thousands of bottles sit at a 45 degree angle upside down, their lees collecting in their necks. Anyone remember the Charlie Chaplin movie "Modern Times"? His character's hand-twitches after a day on the assembly line would be perfect here. Riddlers, as they were called, used to turn each bottle a tiny bit by hand each day, though now of course there are machines to do this.


Some of the wines are finished in oak, and we saw the malolactic fermentation (where tart malic acid is turned into softer lactic acid) taking place in one cellar. Those are bubbles frothing from the bung.


Emmanuel generously poured all their cuvées for us while we sat in their sun-dappled atrium. The wines were all quite nice, some verging on absolutely fantastic (especially the R and the Rosé). But to me the best part was hanging out with the winemaker and chatting with him, he was both gracious and generous.


My friend Nicos, who drove us to Champagne, liked the wines so much he bought a few, perhaps too many, cases, stuffing them into the trunk of his car. Eventually, we squeezed in and said our good-byes.


We met up with a Champagne writer for Wine & Spirits magazine, Peter Liem, at Champagne Diebolt Vallois. He and the owner, Jacques Diebolt, gave us an expansive tour and tasting. I thought the wines were OK, a bit on the sweet side (his dosage is relatively high compared to Veuve Fourny's). Maybe I was tired and cold and damp, but I seem to recall liking these wines a lot more in the US. Still, it was interesting to meet Jacques, he is quite the character.

All in all it was a good day, despite Nicos' bout of gastro-enteritis and the cold, damp weather. We met some great people, had some great tastings, and came home with a few new wines to share among friends and family.
Cheers!

Blind Bubbly Tasting

I am a big fan of blind tasting. It's humbling, but also very educational. Your mind races as the different flavors flow over your palate, trying to catch ephemeral hints of this and that, trying to figure out exactly what it is you're tasting. It's certainly not as easy as it looks, as the brain has a tendency to project expectations when the eye catches a label, and without this visual confirmation you are left with nothing but your nose and your tongue to figure things out.

That said, blind tasting is fun when it's with friends, but nerve-wracking when you're judging or in a competition. Luckily, this past Friday the blind tasting was with friends, and just as luckily, it was a Champagne tasting.

The theme was Blind Bubblies Under $80, the rationale being that even with a recession most folks would be splurging slightly to celebrate the holidays and the New Year (and for some, the new President). I decided to organize this as a cocktail party, since this is the format in which most people would be drinking these wines at this time of year. All the bottles were wrapped in aluminum foil, and each one was numbered as it arrived.


I won't bore you with detailed descriptors of every single wine, as there were fifteen bottles of bubbly (count 'em, 15!). Even I, a lover of the bubbly, was out-bubbled by the end, and savored the splashes of still red and white wine that were offered by generous friends who had brought extra bottles along for the ride. Apparently, there really can be too much of a good thing. Who knew?


In any case, my favorite of the evening was a 1999 Champagne Vilmart Cuvée Rubis (90% Pinot Noir, 10% Chardonnay), a lovely salmon-colored Champagne that was full of sweet berries and balancing acidity. I think the only flaw, and I am being really anal here, was that it was a tad sweet. I still loved it, as did everyone else. Another favorite was the NV Pierre Moncuit Cuvée Delos, a lovely yeasty wine with nice balance, which to me offered one of the best quality-to-price ratios of the night (approximately $30 in NYC).


Other delicious wines included the 1992 Champagne Dom Perignon, which I am happy to say I nailed blind (well, not the year, but I did say it was a DP). It was quite yummy, still fresh with only some hints of ageing. The 1985 Veuve Clicquot Rosé tasted younger than it actually was, with fresh fruit and baked notes and just hints of the oxydation age gives Champagne.


The NV Champagne Henriot Souverain showed well too, but sadly the 1990 Philiponnat had seen better days. Also good were the NV Champagne Chartogne-Taillet Cuvée Saint Anne, another great QPR wine I used to have as my house Champagne. My least favorites were the 2002 Huet Pétillant, a bubbly from the Loire that was too young and really angry at being poured, and the 2003 Giacosa Spumante Extra Brut, which I didn't care for at all.

All in all, it was an interesting tasting, many of the bubblies were well-made, some were more interesting than others, but almost all offered something for someone. Best of all, we had a great time and laughed until late in the evening. Then again, isn't that what wine is for?
Cheers!

Thanksgiving in Florida

The pre-Thanksgiving lunch
Well, another holiday has passed us by. I hope everyone had a lovely time with friends, family, and the Big Bird.

But I have to admit something: I hate turkey. I really do. Luckily, since I am the one who cooks on Thanksgiving, I get to choose what we're eating. One year it was leg of lamb, but the family complained that it wasn't "Thanksgiving-y" enough, whatever that means. So I relented the following year and made Cornish Game Hens. However, it's nearly impossible to get good quality ingredients where my family is in Florida, so we ended up with Tyson birds. While they were moist and juicy, their flavor was, to put it mildly, vile. Every single bird had a nasty metallic taste to it. This alone should be proof that you must avoid industrially-produced foods at all costs.

So this year, in keeping with the holiday's avian theme, I wandered to the Whole Foods near my mother's place. I was looking for a bird, any bird, beside chicken, turkey, or Cornish Game Hens. To my delight, I found some whole organic ducks, which would satisfy my blood-lust for fatty meat and my family's desire for a bird of some kind.

The Beast awaits its fate
Following a recipe I'd had for a while, I rubbed it with salt, pepper and some herbs, then into the oven it went.


My mother made a lovely ratatouille with the few fresh vegetables she could find in the area. Which meant not too many but just enough for it to taste delicious and look great.

Flipping the bird
After 45 minutes, I turned Daffy over onto his back to let his sinfully delicious fat drain through the whole body, bathing the meat in it.

The duck is done!
Lunch rolled around while we cooked, so I grabbed a bottle of the 2005 A&P De Villaine Côte Chalonnaise La Digoine. I had stashed a few bottles here on my last visit, and good thing too: the store I bought it from had gone out of business! This wine was lovely, with crisp dark cherries balanced by earthy notes on a really silken frame. Just delicious. Happily I have one left for my next trip.


The next day, I grabbed the left-over duck meat, tossed it with some salad and olive oil, and popped a special bottle I'd been saving for our last day: a NV Feuillate Rose Champagne. Gorgeous, creamy cherries and toasty notes filled your mouth, dancing around the little bubbles, with some beautiful acidity to firm things up.

The last lunch
This went quite nicely while sitting on the terrace, overlooking swaying palms, with a soft breeze playing over us. You know, Florida's not that bad after all.
Cheers!

Happy Birthday Mrs. Vinotas

The Table is Set
It's Mrs. Vinotas' birthday, so time to open a birth-year wine and cook some yummy things. Plus, it's been a great week work-wise, I managed to get two more wines (my Cotes du Rhône and my Minervois) into the biggest market in the US: New York, baby! If you can make it here, well, you know the rest...

As per the wife's request, I picked up some lamb chops from the local butcher, some tiny potatoes from the nearby farmer's market, and some spinach from, well, let's face it, I'm lazy, the nearest store.

The lamb chops are ready
The menu was pan-seared lamb chops with herbs, steamed spinach and baby potatoes roasted in duck fat with garlic, shallots and onions.


What's the best way to start any nice dinner? Champagne! To satisfy our need for bubbly, I picked up a bottle of NV Champagne Gonet Medeville Blancs de Noirs, a producer I'm not familiar with. This 100% Pinot Noir was quite nice, with peach, sour cherries, dark toast notes, and hints of licorice. The acidity was quite nice and the wine was big enough to hold its own against seared lamb chops, an impressive feat.

1973 Paul Chanson Corton Grand Cru
When I met her, I turned my wife to the Dark Side that is Burgundy, and now that's all she wants to drink. To say the least, I am thrilled. So as I cooked, I popped, or tried popping, a 1973 Domaine Paul Chanson Corton Grand Cru. The cork was stuck, and all the corkscrew kept doing was dig up cork. Frustrated, I finally had to push it into the bottle, at which point decanting was essential, unless we wanted to chew our wine. So what to do? Usually, I'd cover the opening with some cheesecloth and decant the wine. I couldn't find any cheesecloth, so I just decanted it, at which point of course my wife found the damn stuff. So I covered the top of the decanter to filter any cork bits that might try to intrude into my glass.


And how was it? Not bad, not great, it slowly breathed and opened up, and certainly seemed to develop with the lamb. Lots of sous-bois, as you can imagine (that's that lovely forest-floor aroma), with soft, dark cherries, leather, hints of iron, a soft mouthfeel, and a somewhat unbalanced frame that ended in a short, slightly sour finish. While this wasn't dead, it wasn't great. Then again, 1973 wasn't a very good year in Burgundy (or anywhere else except maybe Champagne).

Dessert was semi-homemade vanilla ice cream (what's semi-homemade? It's ice cream I bought at the store near the house but served at home) in a fresh crêpe. No dessert wines as we have an early-morning flight for a weekend of vinous depravity.

Happy Birthday Sweetie!
Cheers!

Friday Night Wines

You meet a lot of people who share this passion for wine, and most are generous and quite nice. As in every relationship, a very few end up being close friends, and this past Friday we were honored to have two couples that we call close friends over for dinner. It is nights like these where you realize how lucky you are, to share in the friendship as well as the wines.

This was something we'd been planning for a while as they hadn't seen the new kitchen and were sick of my constant rambling about it. So after a day slaving in the kitchen, our guests arrived, to find foie gras and sliced Rosette de Lyon sausage. What to serve, you ask? What else? Champagne!

We began with a NV Champagne Henriot Brut Souverain, big and bold yet beautiful and complex, a lovely wine that could stand on its own as well as up to the powerful taste of the foie. A friend offered a bottle of 1999 Kistler Cuvée Kathleen Chardonnay Sonoma County, but it was slightly oxidyzed, so we had to pass on it. The Henriot was quickly emptied, so we popped a NV Champagne Charbaut which was steelier, yet whose finish was rather clipped. It seemed to fall off the palate rather rapidly, something I didn't care for. Still, a learning experience if anything.

Our first course was a Melon Carpaccio, drizzled lightly with some olive oil and lime juice and sprinkled with tarragon leaves. If I might say so myself, this was fantastic. Perfect for a summer's evening. After much hemming and hawing over which wines to serve with this dish, I decided on a 2001 Zilliken Forstmeister Geltz Saarburger Rausch Kabinett Riesling (that's a mouthful, no? And people say French wines are hard to understand????). Beautiful, crisp, lively on the tongue, with minerals and lime fruit dancing joyfully across the palate. And quite good with the melon to boot!

Main course was a duck breast on a bed of wild mushrooms, a dish I'd never made before. Sadly, I think I overcooked the poor birds, as I do prefer them medium rare. What can I say, I'm still learning the ins and outs of the stove... Yeah, that's my excuse... Anyway, for our first flight we poured a 1988 Arnoux Vosne Romanée les Suchots and a 1995 Patrice et Michele Rion Chambolle Musigny les Cras. The Arnoux was corked (those damn Portuguese trees again!) so I tossed it, but the Chambolle showed sous-bois, mushrooms and light cherries on the nose, giving way to similar aspects on the palate. For a Chambolle, the wine was surprisingly mouth-filling, leaving a haunting resonance long after it was gone. Not as lacy as a Chambolle should be, the flavors were slightly muddled, but it was still delicious. For the record, Patrice Rion was the winemaker for the heralded Domaine Daniel Rion, and 1995 was his first vintage making his own wines.

The next flight, though, was killer: 1989 and 1990 Chateau de Beaucastel Chateauneuf-du-Pape, both brought by our guests. Talk about generosity! Both of these looked so young we were wondering if they might be fakes, but as they breathed they put on weight, took on some darker colors and began showing graceful signs of ageing. Both offered very similar bouquets, though the 1990 was a tad darker and muddled than the 1989, but I'm quibbling here. Basically, here was everything you could ask for in older Chateauneuf: leather, game, meats, dark and heady fruits, and a lovely balance. Absolutely decadently fabulous with the duck, too, I might add. We lingered for a while over these wines, as you can imagine.

Next came a flight of cheeses (aged Comte, raw milk Morbier and a Tomme de Savoie), with which I poured the 2002 Carillon Puligny Montrachet. Heady aromas of hazelnuts and lemons filled the air above the wine. This was just pure Puligny, backed with some startling acidity which made for a great match for the cheeses. Now this is what Chardonnay is all about!

The night ended with some home-made Mint Sorbet with assorted cookies, and at this point we were pretty happy. I am not sure what could have gone with the Sorbet, maybe Champagne? Sadly, we were out of bubbly (a sign of the Apocalypse, perhaps?), so we went back to some of the other wines once the mint had disappeared down our gullets.

It is nights like these that I am thankful for the people I've met through wine. We talked about the wines, it's true, but we also talked of other things, and laughed and lingered at the dinner table until the wee hours of the night. This is what it's all about.

And a big thank you to our guests for their generosity and for putting up with the smoke conditions while I prepared the duck.
Cheers!

Wining and Dining in South Florida

It's good to be home after a week of sun, heat and humidity in South Florida. That said, the weather wasn't nearly as bad as it could have been, I got some major tan lines, did some serious laps around the pool, and still managed to find some good wines. Food, as usual, was another matter, to some extent. There were some good, and some bad experiences.

There was Fifth Avenue Grill, where they tried to upsell us on their more expensive main course, after not only taking our orders for the $15.99 rib special, but also serving the salad and the drinks. How does the server not know that they "ran out" of the rib before taking the orders or serving part of our meal, especially at 7:15pm? The only other options were the lobster special or the shrimp special, both for $15.99, or ordering off the regular menu which had NYC prices for decidedly un-NYC sounding dishes. Steak with cheese sauce anyone? When I asked if I could get the NY Strip at the same price as the rib special (since it wasn't my fault that they "ran out" of it), I was told no. Nothing was comped, no apologies were offered. Bullshit they ran out, they were just trying to upsell us (and, I might add, succeeded, as I was in a meat-eating mood). But when dining out with elderly family, I've learned not to make a fuss...

We visited Bova, a popular Italian place that looks like it was plopped right out of South Beach. People here are so fabulous it hurts to look at them. That said, the food was good (my octopus app was fantastic) and service was very good. Best of all, BYO was $25, even for my bottle of NV Champagne Henriot Souverain. The wine was delicious too, BTW.

Another delicious find was FAH Asian Bistro, where the welcome was warm, the fish fresh, and the prices decidedly friendly. I would go back in a heartbeat.

Other times we cooked at home, which is always nice. There is a BBQ in the complex, where I sweated and steamed one night over some huge boneless rib steaks from Costco that were delicious. My wife offered us a bottle of MV Champagne Krug (and you wonder why I love her?) to go with them and what can I say? This was fabulous, but not as usual. I’ve had this wine before LVMH bought it, and since then something’s changed, though they deny it vehemently. But to my palate, this has become more lean and angular and less round and voluptuous, which it used to be. Maybe it needs more bottle time? Still, it was wonderful, with deep, toasty, yeasty, lemony and nutty notes, backed by hints of ginger and cinnamon aspects. The mid-palate was a bit shallow, but the front and back end were big and brawny. Tons of acidity seemed to strip the enamel off my teeth and leave with a lip-smacking finish.

My discovery was the 2005 A&P De Villaine Bourgogne Côte Chalonnaise La Digoine, a gorgeous red Burgundy. Wow, crisp, bright, clear and fresh red berries mingled with a lovely earthy note, with a gorgeously elegant mouthfeel that made you feel like you were tasting something more expensive than you were. This was just fantastic. As it breathed, it took on some dark fruit notes, all the while maintaining a balancing streak of minerality and acidity. The finish was medium-length, but it had that haunting quality that good Pinot Noir gets. A great food wine, this went well with some hanger steaks, arugula and boiled potatoes. Did I mention this was fantastic? And what a steal at $24.99! And yes, I bought up everything I could find. If you see this, buy it. ALL of it.

Over a light lunch of pasta salad, I grabbed a bottle of 2004 Carillon Puligny Montrachet, one of my favorite producers in Burgundy. We have another winner! I swooned right away as I sniffed this wine’s aromas, a lovely lemon and almond mix that was soft and wrapped in velvet, yet on the palate the lightly-oily mouthfeel was balanced with some spicy acidity. This was another wine that lingered on the end, reminding you of its presence in an almost teasing way. I could have hung out with this for a while if it hadn’t disappeared so fast down my throat.

For my last night in Florida, I accepted the gracious and generous invitation of some fellow local winelovers. We cracked some seriously impressive wines, again showing that this passion of ours usually brings out the best in folks. My host and his friends were friendly, generous to a fault, and a pleasure to spend an evening with.

I brought another 2004 Carillon Puligny Montrachet and a 2004 Santo Stefano Castello di Neive Barbaresco. Ooooh, welcome to traditional Piedmont. Roses, bright cherries, tar and earth mixed in a lovely bouquet above the surface of the wine. On the palate, it offered more of the same, with an elegant frame that carried the flavors through to the tart finish. Way too young, this was decanted for the better part of 2 hours before it was drinkable. Letting it breathe really allowed it to shine.

But best of all was the 1970 Mouton Rothschild. I love this wine’s label, drawn by Chagall, a favorite artist of mine, and shown here. Right away, this was unmistakably old Bordeaux: cigar box, leather, some dusty vegetal aromas and some cedar. But as it breathed, it really began fleshing out, a lovely red fruit emerged, and the mouthfeel really smoothed out and became balanced. Beautiful, if on the down-slope.

Surprisingly, I enjoyed an Australian wine (I know, I know, I'll never hear the end of it now): the 2001 Clarendon Hills Old Vines Grenache. Big and dark yet light on its feet, this was well-balanced and not over-the-top or too alcoholic. Why can't they make more wines like this?

So, while I will say we ate somewhat well, we certainly drank well (a recurrent theme in my life...). But prices in Florida are through the roof for basic foodstuffs of even mediocre quality. At least in NYC when we pay through the nose we usually get good stuff. Most importantly, we spent a lovely week with the family and enjoyed our time with them.

Now, back to work.
Cheers!

Cool Wines for a Hot Night

With the heat in NYC these past few days, it's been tough trying to think of things to cook. Who wants to make anything over a flame when it's 98F outside? So a fellow New Yorker and I decided to make some cool dishes to fight the heat. He dropped by last night despite the oppressive warmth, his hands full of grocery bags. Over the course of the next 2 hours, he proceeded to make a delicious fresh gazpacho, which we devoured as a first course. Second course was an arugula and lentil salad I'd made earlier in the day, with a mustard vinaigrette (recipe to follow). What to drink with these varied flavors? Champagne and Burgundy, of course!

As an aperitif, while my friend prepared the gazpacho, we enjoyed:
-Champagne Moutard Brut Grande Cuvee
Same notes as I've found previously, really delicious from the get-go, and improves with air. This is our new house Champer.


With the gazpacho, we popped a bubbly that our friend had brought:
-Champagne Guy Charlemagne Brut Extra
Made from 60% Chardonnay and 40% Pinot Noir, this wine was much darker and heavier than the Moutard, this showed lovely notes of baked dough and brioche and pears, with a hint of orange/citrus fruits, backed by some slight caramel. The finish was uplifted by a nice acidity, and its weight helped it survive the gazpacho.

For the arugula and lentil salad, I had decanted a young Burgundy:
-2005 Frederic Magnien Cote de Nuits Villages Coeur de Roches
I had opened a bottle last week and it was tight, tight, tight. Did I mention tight? Only the last drops were delicious. So I learned my lesson: decant this sucker for at least 2-3 hours. Seriously. Dark, funky Pinot Noir fruits filled the nose, with a streak of earthiness. The flavor profile is a bit muddled, but it's still good. Dark blue and red berries filled the attack, dropping off slightly in the mid-palate, only to come back with a vengeance on the back end. By the end of the night, 6 hours after being decanted, the wine seemed a bit alcoholic. Still, this was delicious, and what a bargain ($23 delivered).

Finally, I grabbed some home-made vanilla and fresh mint ice cream, and poured the dessert wine my buddy had brought:
-1985 Domaine Touchais Coteaux du Layon
Corked. Damn.

As promised here's the recipe I used for the warm lentil salad with arugula. It's easy to do, offers some nice earthy flavors and is perfect for a warm summer's night.

Warm Lentil Salad with Mustard Vinaigrette
1 cup lentilles du Puy picked over and rinsed
6 cups water
1 onion, chopped fine
3 bacon slices, chopped
1 garlic clove, halved
1/4 teaspoon dried thyme
2 fresh flat-leafed parsley sprigs plus 1/2 cup leaves, chopped fine
2 carrots, diced fine (about 3/4 cup)

For vinaigrette:
2 teaspoons white-wine vinegar
2 tablespoons Dijon mustard, or to taste
1/4 cup olive oil
1 bunch arugula, coarse stems discarded, washed well and spun dry

Combine lentils, water, onion, bacon, garlic, thyme, and parsley sprigs in a large pot and simmer, covered, 20 minutes. Stir in carrots and simmer mixture, covered, until lentils are tender, about 10 minutes.

Vinaigrette:
Transfer 2 tablespoons lentil-cooking liquid to a medium bowl and whisk in vinegar, mustard, and salt and pepper to taste. Add oil in a stream, whisking, and whisk dressing until emulsified.

Drain lentils well in a sieve and discard parsley sprigs and garlic. Toss the lentils with chopped parsley and vinaigrette and season with salt and pepper. Just before serving, arrange arugula decoratively around salad.

This should serve 6 as side dish/starter or 3 as a main course.
Cheers!