A New Discovery: Domaine Ruet Beaujolais

 

Jean-Paul Ruet shows off some of the blue granite underlying his vineyards
I love good Beaujolais. For too long, the region's been associated with cheap, mass-produced plonk, especially that Nouveau crap. Let's face it, that's not real wine. It's not even edible and, frankly, should be banned by the FDA. But, what do I know? I just want some real, authentic wine, not some factory-made product that tastes the same year in year out, without any soul.

 

Yes, the camera's straight, it's the hill that's steep
You want soul? Come to the real Beaujolais, where the hills are steep, the vineyards gnarly, and the wines swoon-worthy. As I wrote in my Battle of Bojos post, real Beaujolais, from real farmers, is something to get excited about. Names like Foillard, Lapierre, Descombes, Brun and Metras are well-known and highly sought after by winelovers like me.

 

Looking up the slope at 65-70 year old vines
Well, while looking for Beaujolais producers, a friend mentioned I should seek out the wines of Domaine Ruet. Luckily for me, they were at the last trade show I attended in Paris in November, and lo and behold, he was right. The wines are very, very good. Full of fresh Gamay fruit with earthy backbones, they are beautiful renditions of their terroirs and of Jean-Paul Ruet's gentle guidance.

 

Gravity-fed tanks through the wooden doors on the right
When I was offered the chance to visit the winery in the Beaujolais on this past trip, and despite having hit 7 trade shows/tastings in 10 days, I jumped at it. If you've never been to the area, I seriously recommend it. Just south of the Macon and north of Lyon, the region is full of very steep hills covered in Gamay vines that jut from the earth like crooked fingers. The food is hearty and warm, and the people generous and soft-spoken. There's a warmth of character that is both welcoming and reassuring.

 

Stainless steel fermentation tanks
I was met by Jean-Paul Ruet, whose family has been making wines in the Beaujolais region since 1926, when his grandfather started farming. Located in the small town of Voujon à Cercié, they own 16 hectares (39.55 acres) of south-facing, steep, old-vine vineyards on granite-rich soils that are filled with pebbles and stones, scattered between the communes of Brouilly, Morgon and Régnié (see pic below).

A panoramic view of their holdings
Jean-Paul Ruet subscribes to a philosophy of sustainable agriculture in the vineyard and strict quality controls in the winery (gravity feeds, semi-carbonic maceration, very little added sulfur), trying to respect his various terroirs and get the purest expression of his lands. Everything is manually harvested (granted, that is the law in the region), and selection starts in the vineyard and continues into the winery. In some years, he does whole-cluster fermentation (leaving the grapes on the stem), but that depends on the grapes' phenolic maturity.

 

To show his wines' ageability, he opened this, and all I can say is wow
And the wines? Well, they're fantastic. Full of fresh red fruits with earthy minerality and crisp, almost tart accents backed by bright acidity, they are what all Beaujolais should be but sadly isn't. Tasting through his line-up was a pleasure, and I say that as someone who has sat through some tastings where all I wanted to do was rip out my tongue so I didn't have to endure the pain anymore.

 

Look for this label, kids, it stands for quality!
I will begin showing the wines to distributors in the coming weeks, and hopefully someone will grab them. I think they offer great quality to price ratios, but what do I know? I just represent what I can drink, and I could chug these wines. Seriously.

Cheers!
PS: If you like these pictures, follow the big fat FaceBook Fan Page button on the right and check out the picture album, and while you're at it, become a fan.

It's Showtime!

OK, nothing to do with wine, but how could I not use this pic? I mean, come on!
It's that time of the year again, when most of the major wine shows in France take place. Happily, many of them are in the South of France. As you can imagine, being in the warm south of France in the months of January and February, when the air in NYC is bitingly cold and the wind cuts through layers of clothes to whip your bones, does not suck. In fact, I can't emphasize how little it sucks.

But, it is still work. As I mentioned in my report from ViniSud two years ago, it's hectic hectic hectic and by the end of the day you'd kill for a gin and tonic. Or a nap.

So I found myself in Montpellier for a week, attending the Millesime Bio 2010 show, which focuses on Biodynamic wines. What does that mean, you ask? Well, take the theory of organic/natural wines and take it a few steps further. You end up with wines that are made without any man-made chemicals (though this is similar to "sustainable agriculture" and organic/natural), with very little added sulfur to ensure the stability of the wine, and, here's where it gets a bit odd, with a lot of attention paid to the days of the year and the lunar cycle. In fact, there's even a Biodynamic calendar that lists what days are Root Days, Fruit Days and Leaf Days.

The Biodynamic Calendar
In any case, many of the wines are fantastic (look for producers like Puzelat, Foillard, Jean-Marc Senat to get an idea of the quality out there), though far, far too many of them are either bleh or downright awful/flawed. And, let's not forget expensive. THAT was probably the most frustrating part of the trip. Despite a world-wide recession, a still-strong Euro, and massive competition from everywhere folks can plant a vine, these wines were sometimes just stupidly priced. I mean, I know you've got expenses and need to cover them and make a living, but who's going to buy a $30 white from the Savoie? You're lucky if anyone even knows where the Savoie is!

So I ran around from table to table, catching up with folks I knew in the business, and best of all catching up with the winemakers. The Spanish Basque winery I represent, Bodegas Aroa, was showing their wines, and the winemaker, Txus Macias, was beaming like a proud schoolboy as he'd won two, count 'em, TWO, gold medals for his wines.

Txus poses with his award-winning wine
I also met up with my two favorite women winemakers, Claude Jourdan from Felines Jourdan, and Christine Deleuze, from Clos Bagatelle.

Claude and Christine open samples for me
But my work wasn't done yet, oh no, so I headed up to Angers, in the Loire Valley, for the Salon des Vins de Loire (Loire Valley Wine Show). Which, by the way, means going to Paris, changing train stations, then heading down to Angers, even though it would have been faster if there were direct trains there. But, all roads lead to Rome, or, in this case, Paris, so there you go.

 

The first event I attended, a small-producer Biodynamic wine tasting, was in an old, gorgeous monastery with amazing woodwork in the ceiling. Yet again, while many of the wines were delicious, too many had flaws, the biggest of which was the price. But I won't belabor the issue, I promise. Angers, by the way, is gorgeous, and a city I will have to explore some day.

Busy busy busy
Next I hit the main show, meeting up with my Muscadet producer, Jean-Pascal Aubron. His 2009s, even though they're not finished, show real potential. I know you were wondering.

I hit many, many stands, saw some new and old faces, tasted LOTS of bad wine, but may, just may, have found 1-2 well-priced, interesting and well-made things. We'll see, there's much more work to be done.

Oh, and I will have an announcement in the next few days. Stay tuned... I know you're just dying of anticipation...
Cheers!

Are These Wines Rated?

That must be the single most reviled question I have ever heard at a tasting. Granted, it's only happened twice, but WOW does it piss me off. Really? You need to rely on some shmuck to tell you what you like? Do you really doubt yourself that much? Frankly, I think you also like giving me all your money without asking questions.

Actually, now that I'm breathing again, I should acknowledge that wine is an intimdidating subject when you first start. I'll admit to perusing the Wine Spectator and Robert Parker for clues as to what to drink when I first got into wine. But, and this is VERY important, I quickly learned what I liked and did NOT like in relation to those critics. I knew enough about myself to quickly realize that for some wines my palate lined up and for others it completely disagreed (pretty much most things when it came to Parker, truth be told). And yes, I know, we all need to start somewhere.

But, and this is a VERY big BUT, do NOT come to my tasting and ask me "are these wines rated?" while holding a ream of printed out reviews. I have never asked my distributors to send samples to any of the critics (even though I will admit I do love reading Josh Reynolds and Steve Tanzer), so unless they buy them on their own they're not tasting anything I represent. And, frankly, I don't care if they do. I know these wines are good and well-made. If you taste them, you are free to agree or disagree. The most important thing is to TRUST YOUR PALATE.

Here, let me repeat that: TRUST YOUR PALATE.

Seriously, these critics do have a place in the wine business, for they can guide and shepherd you along the winding vinous road of discovery. They can show you new regions and new wines you'd never find without them. At the end of the day, however, YOU are the one drinking the bottle, YOU are the one judging it on that day and in that place, YOU are the one deciding whether it's good or not.

So don't go to tastings and ask the wine rep there if they're rated. Taste the wine, close your eyes, let it sit on your tongue while you breathe over it, let all the long-chain molecules waft through your sinus passages and over your palate, and either swallow or spit, your choice. But make your own decision.

Now excuse me while I go punch a wall.
Cheers!

Tastings!

The year has gotten off to a crazy start: tons of work, lots of work-withs and, of course, tastings, where I'll be pouring my wines in the New York City area. That's the fun part, where I get to meet fellow wine-lovers or even plain civilians who are curious, but afraid of wine. I really love these events, there's something about interacting with the general public that's always so much fun. There's nothing I like more than that look of "Oh, wow, that's yummy, and it's how much?" Happily, this is a pretty regular occurence at the price point of the wines I represent.

So here's the upcoming tasting schedule:

-Thursday January 14th, 5-8pm at Drink, at 69th and 2nd Avenue. I'll be pouring the delightful Jean-Pascal Aubron Muscadet and the fantastic Clos Bagatelle St Chinian Tradition.

-Saturday January 16th, 12-4pm at The Wine Library, in Springfield, NJ. There I'll be showing four, you read that right, FOUR of my wines: Catherine et Didier Tripoz' Macon les Charnay Clos des Tournons (from old-vine Chardonnay planted on a steep and enclosed vineyard), the aforementioned Clos Bagatelle St Chinian, Chateau Gigognan's Cotes du Rhone Village Bois des Moines and the Chateau La Bouscade Minervois les Septs Vents. If last time was any indicator, this should be more like a party than a tasting.

So I hope you stop by and say hello, or at the very least try some small-production, authentic wines that taste more expensive than they actually are.
Cheers!

Akemashite Omedeto

Me on New Year's Day
That's Happy New Year in Japanese, in case you were wondering. This past decade has been, how should I put it...? The word turbulent comes to mind, both personally and professionally. Let's just say I am happy to put 2009 and the Naughty Aughties behind me. So it was in this spirit of cleansing and renewing that I accepted an invitation to a Japanese New Year's Day dinner.

In contrast to most formal Japanese dinners, this was more free-flowing and relaxed, with far fewer rituals than usual. In fact, aside from when to put the noodles into the broth, there were almost no rules. And on a cold, snowy New Year's Day 2010, this was just what the doctor ordered.

The fresh ingredients, resonating of the season, were laid out in a colorful display that lit up the room with the light of a new year. Various mushrooms, chrysanthemum leaves, lotus root, lettuce and carrots were both earthy and vivid, both to see and to taste.

Japanese onions and fresh tofu were pleasant counterpoints to each other, each maintaining its own identity yet adding a little bit of themselves to the broth.

 

The richest part of the meal was some paper-thin slices of well-marbled beef, which cooked through almost instantly once placed in the wok. These remained true to themselves, yet like the vegetables, added a little to the cooking liquid to make a whole that was greater than its parts.

The main part of this meal was the broth itself, which slowly absorbed the flavors of the various ingredients.

Once we were finished with the veggies and meat, the fresh udon noodles were placed in the boiling, flavor-infused broth.

Small bowls with sauce and scallions would greet the noodles once done.

With pure generosity, the richness of the liquid was transferred to the noodles, even as more ingredients were added. In typical Japanese fashion, a single star-shaped carrot was placed in the center while it cooked to offer a bright counterpoint to the earthy colors.

Finally, this long, cleansing meal ended with a single, perfect Japanese orange.

In a bow to the Western sensibilities (and sweet teeth - not mine, I swear I didn't steal the missing one) in the room, French macarons were offered as an addendum to the fruit.

What a way to greet the new year! Instead of the usual NYC brunch that was heavy and leaden, this was a light, cleansing meal. It was a wonderful metaphor for starting anew and with a clean slate, open to all the possibilities the new year could offer.

Thank you for letting me ramble on these past few years, watching as I follow my passion and plunge headfirst into the wine business. Without your support I would never have been able to do this. So it is with utter sincerity that I say:
Akemashite Omedeto! Happy New Year! Bonne Année! Felíz año nuevo!
Cheers!

Happy Holidays!

 

Yes, it's a Charlie Brown tree
Between work and some personal issues, I've been slightly out of commission, but I wanted to take a moment to wish everyone a wonderful holiday season and a fantastic New Year. I'll be taking a break until after then, so enjoy your family and friends and appreciate what you have.

And if you enjoy some Vinotas Selections wines, let me know!
Cheers!

Where Winos Dine

Well, we can't just drink, can we? I mean, wine is meant to be enjoyed with food and friends and family, not all alone. If you start doing that, you might need some assistance...

No, good wine is designed to go with good food, both adding their virtues to the experience of life. When the pairings work, they add up to more than their individual parts and become something else, something transcending.

Of course, not all food and wine pairings get so existential, but many are thoroughly enjoyable. But where to go and enjoy your precious bottle of wine and get a great meal without breaking the bank? Sure, there are many spots in New York City that offer BYO, but either these will induce nosebleed with stratospherically high pricing, or the quality of the dishes will not be up to the quality of the bottle you bring.

So where do winos go to dine when they want to drink and eat well?

One name comes to mind, and most NYC winelovers already know what I'm about to say: Apiary. This East Village restaurant has been around over a year and it's no secret, but if you have a nice bottle you want to open with someone and get a great meal, this is the place most of us visit. The pricing is very friendly, service is good, and best of all the food is delicious. Well-executed and thought out by Scott Bryan, formerly of Veritas, the dishes are very wine-friendly as well, as one would expect. And, of course, though they're BYO-friendly, their wine list is also pretty-well put together, pleasing to both the winegeeks as well as to the casual drinker.

Oh, and no I am not paid or rewarded for this, I just thought I'd offer a Public Service Announcement. In fact, I wouldn't mention my name if I were you...
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!

Simple Things

 

It's funny, despite my love of the simpler things in life, it's easy to lose one's way and forget this most basic principle. Every day we're assaulted by a barrage of desires, enticing us to do/eat/drink more. Yet when one takes a deep breath and a step back, we (re)discover how nice it is to take some time and enjoy the simpler things in life. Especially living in NYC with its hectic energy, we sometimes tend to forget to take that step back. Yesterday, I landed in Paris, and wandering the streets and shopping for dinner, I realized what I'd lost lately.

 

A simple croissant (delicious, BTW), eaten on the street (very declasse, truthfully), was the epitome of that go-go-go attitude we have in NYC. And while that's great for a quick breakfast, I was in no rush, so why'd I do that? My first meetings/tastings weren't until the day after I landed, so I was in no hurry. Shame on me!

 

So my first dinner in Paris wasn't at a Michelin-starred restaurant (I prefer smaller, simpler bistrots, frankly), or even an intricate meal prepared at home, even though I'd bought some lovely baby chanterelles and other ingredients. No, dinner my first night back in Paris was a half-bottle of a biodynamic red from the Languedoc (nice and unassuming), some stinky cheeses, a saucisson sec (how is this not imported in the US????), and a very nice baguette. And it was the perfect meal. Me happy.

It doesn't get much simpler than that.
Cheers!

Free Booze!

Yes, it's that time of year again, when my wholesalers plop me down in front of a table and make me stand there like a human spigot. Granted, this is the part of the job I really love, where I get to interact with the vast, unwashed masses of humanity. Most of the time, it's pretty cool. But every once in a while, you get the bozos just there to get drunk. Don't be a bozo!

So this upcoming Saturday I'll be pouring three of my wines at Diplomat Wines, 939 2nd Avenue in East Midtown, between 49th and 50th streets. I'll be performing this song and dance from 5pm to 8pm, so if you're thirsty for some interesting, inexpensive and artisanal wines, come on down. If not, go away.

Oh, yeah, I'll be pouring Felines Jourdan's Picpoul de Pinet, Clos Bagatelle's St Chinian and Chateau La Bouscade's Les Septs Vents Minervois. All are yummy and inexpensive and you should stop in and buy case-loads. Seriously.
Cheers!