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!

Monday in the Minervois

Talk about "garagiste": David and Jo in front of their winery's door
I found myself in the ancient walled city of Carcassonne after a lovely weekend in the Cahors visiting my family and one of my wineries, Château Gaudou. I was met at the train station by Château La Bouscade’s winemaker, David Cowderoy. With a bright warm sun and blue sky, this was a nice change from the cold dampness of the Muscadet region or the foggy mornings in the hills of the Cahors. Now, I was in the South of France.

Yay!

After a quick drive to the tiny village of Puicheric, we got down to business: breaking into David’s house as he’d forgotten his keys… He grabbed a ladder from the open winery and made his way to the roof, finally finding an open window. Aaaah, the vagaries of the wine business…

The racking system in the tiny winery
We quickly began tasting the 2007 Syrahs from a plot of land called the Stone Shed for the dilapidated building in the vineyard. David had put the wines in different oak barrels to see how they’d react. It was fascinating, even though every Syrah had a certain common streak (gorgeous dark fruit and minerality) they were all marked more or less by the wood, as would be expected. The French oaks imparted more smooth tannins and lighter tastes, the American oak was what you’d expect, big and brawny with rough tannins, and the Russian oak added a perfumy aspect to the wine that I hadn’t been expecting. In any case, 2007 looks to be a good vintage for David.

David pointing out how he makes his wines

The TINY pneumatic press
Stealing some wine with the wine thief (pipette)
Pouring barrel samples
We also tasted some whites like a late-harvest Vermentino/Macabeo which was lovely but still undergoing fermentation and almost painfully sweet. Tasting still-fermenting wines, either red or white, was an interesting experience but it was tough to judge the quality of something that hasn’t really grown into itself. By the end, my hands and teeth were stained black and my mouth was super dry from all the tannins.

Caught red-handed!
Bacchus the guard dog
After a quick scrub-down, I sat down for a lovely and long and copious dinner of BBQ’d duck breast (amazingly tasty and succulent), scalloped potatoes, and assorted fresh veggies, with a lovely Syrah and herb reduction. We began with David’s 2007 Chardonnay, a lovely rendition with just a hint of oak and refreshing acidity. We then moved onto his 2005 QED, a 100% Mourvèdre. The QED program is made up of whichever grape does best in each vintage, and in 2005 the Mourvèdre was stunning, offering a wine of incredible intensity but beautiful balance. Gorgeous, absolutely gorgeous.

Then, with some stinky cheeses, he poured the 2006 Septs Vents, the next vintage of the wine I’ve placed in New Jersey and New York. Not as big as the QED, this was still a beautiful 100% Syrah. Best yet, it’s under screw-cap, so no worries about TCA!

Finally, David offered a small half-bottle of the late-harvest Macabéo/Vermentino, a nice sweet ending to a lovely dinner where we ate, drank and laughed in equal amounts (ie a LOT). It was a perfect example of why I’m just so happy in this business: you are surrounded by folks who are passionate about what they are doing, and who love sharing that passion with others.

Gobelet-trained vine
Walking through the vineyards
The next morning we set out for David and Jo’s plots, walking through the beautiful vineyards until lunchtime. David showed me the work they were doing in their parcels, working the land as naturally as possible so as to make the best wines possible. In a few years, a new winery will be built, all of it planned to be as environmentally-friendly as possible. David is extremely ambitious and proud of his parcels and I don’t blame him, the potential for greatness is definitely there.

The rocky soil
Vines in the stony soil
Gnarly old vines
More old vines

Next: Two Days in the Languedoc.
Cheers!

The Thrill of Discovery

Obviously not me, but I like the picture

The other day I wrote about how I get tons of samples, and how I really need to kiss a lot of frogs to find a prince amongst them. And it's quite true, though many people still think I'm spoiled with all the free booze. Yeah, well, you try tasting through 20 young, thick black Corbières or Cahors wines, then come see me. If your teeth are still white and your tongue still functions, you ain't doing it right.

In that post, I mentioned how I seek something that is well-made and a good-value, a wine with good balance between all the components. Something that makes me sit up and take notice, something that tells me the winemaker wasn't just following a recipe but was actually watching over his baby like an obsessed parent. Something that gets me all excited and all revved up and reminds me why I love my job despite the constant hammering of badly-made bottles, occasionally over-priced producers and customers seeking better prices amidst a flailing Dollar.

It's something I like to call the "thrill of discovery".

It happens far too rarely, as the world is awash in an ocean of bad wine. But when it does happen, it makes everything else seem worthwhile. And I can happily say that it happened to me the other day, when I tasted a bunch of samples from a winery, Chateau La Bouscade, in the Minervois, an area located halfway between the Mediterranean coast and the ancient fortified city of Carcassonne.

There, winemaker David Cowderoy is crafting some beautiful, well-balanced, medium-to-big bodied reds from Syrah, Mourvèdre, Grenache and old-vine Carignan. The wines, it's true, have seen some oak, but not in an obnoxious way. If anything, the wood ageing adds complexity and body to the wine without masking the fruit, something that can happen when the winemaker isn't careful. And from what I've seen so far, Mr. Cowderoy is very careful.

I tasted with a few friends in the wine business, and as we tasted the wines over the course of a few hours, I couldn't help but sit up straight, slowly and surely, a small smile creasing my lips. The wines kept on developping, becoming deeper and more complex as they breathed. While they're not huge wines, especially by New World standards, they are elegant and balanced, wines someone could enjoy alone or with food and not get burned by the alcohol.

I had similar reactions to all their bottlings, and thus to me it was a no-brainer to represent them. Better yet, they represent both a great value and an understanding of international commerce, a rare combination. This is a perfect example of the thrill of discovery. Of course, the best thing is when potential clients taste the wines and say things like "This over-delivers!"

And when it happens, it makes everything good.

Cheers!