Thursdays in the Cellar: A Rhone BYO Part III

The Tasting Notes Part II:

9. 1996 Jaboulet Cornas
Corked!? Though there was some debate around the table whether or not TCA was the culprit.

10. 2000 La Bastide Saint Dominique Chateauneuf-du-Pape “Secrets de Pignan”
Aromatics requiring energetic coaxing…so different compared to al the other so far (it is, after all, 100% Grenache). Fresh and sweet with notes of caramel and a bit of wet earth, milk chocolate and roasted meat (was the smell of the food interfering with the aromatics of the wine?) The palate so generous compared to the austerity of syrah: soft, smooth, and strawberry jam.

Evolving: Raspberry on the nose, though subtle. A little citrus on the palate along with strawberry hi-c. A sweet, nearly liqueur like quality about it. Very easy and delicious. I noted, “not my style, but very nice,” though looking back on this comment I ask myself, “why not?” It sounds great.

11. 2000 Penfold’s Grange (one of the few 100% Shiraz vintages)
Very close to the Hermitage actually, except the rich, ripe fruit underpinning the more dominant leather and game aromas. The color opaque with no sign at all of age. A little V8 juice cocktail on the nose as well. Violets and sweet oak spice. Huge extraction but impeccably balanced. Dark chocolate verging on cocoa powder without the bitterness. Sweet, full, incredibly multi-layered texture. Very supple. Eases into and across the mouth. So sleek. Mouth drying finish. A savory, black licorice persistence. Very young, though quite accessible. The finest Australian wine I have ever tasted. I was skeptical about this wine initially, and while Parker sites it as, “not one of the great Granges,” it was delicious. Based on this one bottle, I would say Grange deserves its reputation as one of the finest wines in the world.

12. 2003 Zaca Mesa “Z Three” Santa Ynez Valley, California
(52% Shiraz/46% Mourvèdre/2% Grenache)
Blood orange on the nose and sweet berry fruit with some tar and menthol. Wants to get your attention, kind of like a Labrador. Big, chunky, monolithic, and chewy. High in alcohol. Sweet, easy, pleasant. Again, not my style but good in its own way, like a candy bar is good every once in a while. Definitely decadent. Doing a fairly decent job of maintaining its balance despite the alcohol.

13. 2005 Mitolo GAM Shiraz McLaren Vale, Australia
Sweet blackberries and cream with some yogurt and vanilla extract, oak, and alcohol on the nose. Sweet, full, rich, and alcoholic. A monster of a wine (the second monster of the night, we nearly could have made it a Halloween party). Dense and I noted, dirty. Overly alcoholic, despite its claims at 14.5%. Vanilla and blackberry on the finish with mouth searing alcohol and tannins. A chore to taste.

The next day: Toasty oak and blackberry leaf on the nose. Kind of funky (I think the yogurt was going sour). Sweet attack, but something strikes me mid-palate that is off-putting…leading into a finish of (you guessed it) a whole lot of alcohol and some blue fruits. Perplexing really.

14. 2003 Tintara Reserve Shiraz McLaren Vale
Positively subdued compared to the previous wine. A bit of rubber tire . Monolithic yes, but not bad really. Crème de Cassis on the palate. Huge extraction. Grippy tannins. Too much for me.

The next day: Let me start by saying that I did want to like this wine. Interesting sort of sour milk and oak spice on the nose, along with blueberries and blackberries. Quite dense, nearly impenetrable palate. Lots of glycerol. I don’t really know what to make of it.

15. 2001 Chateau Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu “Papin-Chevalier”
Showing excellent botrytis character on the nose with a bit of petrol, apricot, and citrus rind. Rich, concentrated, viscous with solid lift from the acidity. Mineral and stone fruit palate. Very, very nice.

16. 2003 Chapoutier Banyuls
Blueberry pie filling on the nose with blackberries on the palate. A bit bitter with a tannic finish. Sweet, mid-weight, with a hint of tobacco. Not nearly as interesting as the Chenin, but an unfair comparison. Great supporting acidity. Surprisingly hefty tannins. Structured to age a while yet, though it finishes a bit short.

Thursdays in the Cellar: A Rhone BYO Part II

The Tasting Notes Part I:

1. 2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Blanc
Oaky, vanilla nose with notes of anise and culinary herbs. Richly textured with serious viscosity. Alcohol and oak dominating the palate. Savory finish with the anise lingering, along with a sense of seashells and salt air. Wood tannins noted. Pretty good, but not worth the money.

2. 2002 Fidelitas Syrah Columbia Valley, Washington
In your face new world syrah aromatics. A bit of wet paint and banana peel on the nose. Dark and dense with some blueberry, tree bark, and sweet spice. Nice, full, dense palate showing decent acidity and firm, chewy tannin. Persistent. Quite complex. A pleasant sweetness. Very good.

3. 2003 K Syrah Morrison Lane Walla Walla Valley, Washington
Toasted hazelnuts, alcohol, and canned tomatoes on the nose. Huge extraction with sweet plumy fruit underlying the chunky, chewy, oak dominated palate. Long in the mouth (all the glycerol). Ted said, “monolithic.” I cheerily agreed with him. Not my style, but I am sure it will have its fans. For me, simply too unbalanced and over the top in every way: oak, alcohol, and extraction.

The next day: Again, the alcohol ever present. But has sweetened up some with ripe plums and vanilla on the nose. Besides this aspect of fruit, remains essentially the same: a huge monster of a wine.

4. 1995 Alain Graillot Crozes-Hermitage
At the opposite end of the syrah spectrum with this…leather and game, garrigue and licorice with wet slate and a bit of smoked bacon. Sweet entry going into a mushroom and leather casserole of a mid-palate. Still has grip and good acidity. Mouth coating and drying tannins. A very long finish of autumn leaves and sweet spice. For those who enjoy the tertiary aspects of age and don’t mind a deficiency of fruit. Very nice.

The next day: Gnarly old wood and smoked meat aromas with a bit of black olive tapenade. Mouth drying tannins haven’t settled down here at all.

5. 2005 M. Chapoutier Côtes du Rhone “Belleruche” Blanc
Showing great typicity (I noted, though I’ve probably only tasted thirty or so white Côtes du Rhones in my career). Apple and pear aromas. Very refreshing sense of yellow apple and a hint of fennel on the palate. Full and big, but balanced, with some tannic bite. Nice wine.

6. 2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Rouge
Perfumed nose. Quite feminine. Restrained. Floral and a bit of game, raw meat, and pine needles. Medium weight and soft. I noted here, “really reminds of 1999 La Tour Haut Brion.” Great balance. A cool feeling in the mouth. Quite nice, even if it isn’t up to the usual snuff. Doing the best he can in a difficult vintage. Delicious, but not worth the money.

7. 1995 Chapoutier Hermitage “Le Pavillon”
Shockingly, extremely primary. Violets. The nose not giving anything up. A wine in hibernation. On the palate: great concentration and much fuller than above with a more palpable texture. Cigar box finish. Lots of potential here, but very, very reticent. I wouldn’t touch it for another ten years, at least, though it is capable of lasting far longer. A very subtle wine, soft with very ripe tannins that nearly disguise just how well structured it really is. Delicious and probably worth every penny Vincent paid for it in the late nineties.

8. 1990 E. Guigal Hermitage
Much more evolved aromatics though the color is incredible, nearly opaque with just a slight brickiness at the rim. Game, leather, meat, and cinnamon. Quite rich aromatics. Sweet entry with a very dominant gamey quality kicking in mid-palate. Like walking into a leather store and inhaling while chewing some walnuts recently released from the shell. Very long in the mouth. Not quite on par texture wise with the Chapoutier but an easier Hermitage to spot.

Evolving: a bit of root beer candy. Freshening up a bit, shedding its cloak of leather but keeping the vest on. Big red gum.

Later: fading. The nose a bit like a cold fireplace the morning after a conflagration. Very nice, but drink up.

Thursdays in the Cellar: A Rhone BYO Part I

An Homage to Hermitage

When Paul told me that he would be available to hang out on Thursday evening, I decided to host the weekly Thursday’s In The Cellar series at my house and turn it into a dinner party. Paul had a few bottles he wanted to try, all of them based on Syrah or Shiraz, thus I told all the invitees to bring Rhone or Rhone style wines.

When Thursday arrived the air seemed electrified by our enthusiasm. I probably received 25 phone calls with last minute questions and suggestions. For most of us, this would be a night of epic proportions. Many of the guests had never experienced such a high caliber line-up of wines.

Admittedly, I focused poorly during the day. I allowed work to become secondary to ensuring that everything was in order for the party. I made trips to the grocery store to buy food. I did this despite having told everyone to bring his or her own grill item. To ease the financial burden on myself I had previously decided to make it a BYOB/BYOS (steak) party. I thought, “I’ll fire up the grill and let everyone do their own cooking.”

Vincent arrived early with two really beautiful bottles in hand. He then proceeded to feel guilty for not having brought any food though I told him I had plenty. Paul and Joe showed up shortly thereafter bearing gifts of hummus, bread, and cheese with which to start our feast. Toby, Andrew, and Ted ambled in. My new housemate Stacie freely mingled with the arrived company. Stacy (the usually appearing one) was, of course, late.

We started with a bottle of Schild Estate Sparkling Shiraz, which I can’t deny disliking. After a few sips I poured mine down the drain and opened a bottle of the 2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Blanc. During this wine we all sort of stood around the kitchen talking. I made final hors d’oeuvres arrangements, checked the temperature of my wine cooler (where the reds were waiting at 63 degrees) and forced everyone to sit down at the makeshift dining room table I set up in the living room (more space now that Marita moved to Philadelphia with all the furniture). After some rather boisterous conversation around the table, I noticed that Vincent had disappeared. I imagined he must have gone outside to check on the charcoal situation, but when I went out there myself, he was nowhere to be found. Odd, I thought.

While Vincent was gone we opened a variety of wines, in no particular order, as I found it impossible to control this rowdy group. I opted for a laissez-faire attitude, hoping that it would work itself out. The resulting sequence in which the wines were tasted makes little sense. We jumped around from full-bodied new world examples, to lighter, older northern Rhone vintages. My apologies to those who might find this sacrilege, but I no longer held the reins at this point. In the end, it worked out quite well, although it did seem chaotic during the pre-meal tasting, with bottles being handed around the table wily-nilly.

On the table could be found: hummus, pita chips, cheese, bread, Tom’s fantastic pâté, crackers, chips, and salsa.

We opened and tasted through the following bottles:

2002 Fidelitas Syrah Columbia Valley, Washington (From my cellar courtesy of Paul)

2003 K Syrah Morrison Lane Walla Walla Valley, Washington (from Andrew’s Collection)

1995 Alain Graillot Crozes-Hermitage (from Vincent’s collection)

Vincent showed back up on the scene at this point (appropriately as we were tasting his wine) with two shopping bags full of food. A whole pork loin, spices, etc. Portobello mushrooms. He went to work cooking for the entire group. I had bought some lamb and fixed it up earlier in the day. Andrew brought lamb also and two types of sausages. Paul and Joe brought steaks.

Then Stacy arrived.

She began peddling her wines to anyone who would listen. She had just come from an account and remained in full salesperson mode. Her audience, all restaurateurs or wine shop stewards didn’t help this. I told her to calm down a little, as she was at a party not at work. She opened:

2005 M. Chapoutier Côtes du Rhone “Belleruche” Blanc

2005 Zaca Mesa Roussanne, California

200? Horton Viognier, Virginia

During these latter two wines I was assisting Vincent (who had ducked out when Stacy began her impassioned speech on Horton Vineyards) with the grilling, as was Andrew, who seems very much in love with cooking.

I occasionally popped back in the house to clean a tray or grab a plate. During these brief inside moments I caught some of the propaganda in favor of the three whites, with Stacy stopping mid sentence, as I appeared to ensure I tasted these “terrific” wines. I missed the Zaca Mesa Roussanne, though I did hear very positive commentary on it. The Horton Viognier I thought poor in quality and dumped it onto the fire when Vincent needed to coals contained to a more moderate temperature. I took notes on the white CDR and these can be found in Part II of this post.

Vincent, Andrew, and I arrived at table bearing great platters of food. Grilled Portobello mushrooms and green beans on one plate. A mountain of meat on another platter: pork loin, sausage, steak, and lamb. It truly was a feast fit for a carnivorous confrèrie of wine and food lovers. (I had a pre-made tuna burger courtesy of Whole Foods).

Two flights of three wines each accompanied the food (quite possibly the most interesting and delectable flights I’ve ever had, apart from a previous dinner of 1982 Bordeaux that included Talbot, Léoville Poyferré, Léoville Las Cases and La Mission Haut Brion). The spit buckets were pushed aside and left to lie unused, as we tasted through these:

2002 J.L. Chave Hermitage Rouge (Both of the Chaves brought by Paul)

1995 Chapoutier Hermitage “Le Pavillon” (Vincent)

1990 E. Guigal Hermitage (Ted)

This was followed by:

1996 Jaboulet Cornas (Me)

2000 La Bastide Saint Dominique Chateauneuf-du-Pape “Secrets de Pignan” (Me)

2000 Penfold’s Grange (Paul)

After Dinner things deteriorated a little bit. We tasted:

2003 Zaca Mesa “Z Three” Santa Ynez Valley, California (Stacy)

2005 Mitolo GAM Shiraz McLaren Vale, Australia (Stacy)

2003 Tintara Reserve Shiraz McLaren Vale (Stacy)

At this point, these three undrinkable, heavy, alcoholic wines should have been saved for a more appropriate occasion. To strip paint from a house for example. Overkill and unnecessary after the fine wines of earlier.

For Dessert we drank the following two:

2001 Chateau Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu “Papin-Chevalier” (Me)
(Oops, how did this make it into a Rhone tasting?!?)

2003 Chapoutier Banyuls (Stacy)

After the meal we lost a few good men, including Paul, Joe and Vincent. Joe actually fell asleep halfway through the dinner! The food, of course was incredible (this generally happens when Vincent is cooking). The wines (for the most part) fantastic though see Part II for the tasting notes.

As I am blogging about this dinner nearly a month after it occurred the details regarding conversation are a bit fuzzy, though I did note that Ted vociferously exclaimed he wanted blind tastings more than once. I think he actually may have told me to write this down.

Oh, I forgot to add that halfway into the Grange we decided to call Michael (Toby, Andrew, and Ted’s cellar landlord) whose single greatest wine experience resulted from a bottle of Grange. Though he doesn’t live far, poor Michael made two trips back and forth from his house to my neighborhood due to nighttime road construction on the street leading to my house and our obvious inability to give proper directions after 10 bottles of wine. He has no cell phone so when he couldn’t find it the first time, had to go home, call us back, then make the trip again, the second time successfully. I think he was happy that we got him out of bed for a glass of Grange?

What in God's Name is Crasse de Fer?

When I tell people that I blog about wine, most of them want to know how they can find it. I tell them the name of the site. This is always followed by a “what?” I then say it again. I am then asked to explain what this means. Certainly, this is a fair question. Many of the (few) readers I have are trying to convince me to change the name. Most likely good counsel.

Why don’t I let Jancis do the talking:

"Pomerol's finest wines are in general made on the higher parts of the plateau, which is predominately gravel whose layers are interleaved with clay, becoming sandier in the west, where rather lighter wines are made. The subsoil here is distinguished by a local iron rich clay, the so called crasse de fer, of which Chateau Pétrus has a stratum particularly close to the surface."


-from Jancis Robinson's Oxford Companion to Wine

And an excerpt from the page on Chateau Lafleur at greatbordeauxwines.com:

"Subsoil here and many other places in Pomerol has a very interesting and distinctive composition, and is only to be found in Pomerol and therefore not widely known. It consists of the so-called "crasse de fer" and clay. "Crasse de fer" is iron dirt or more precisely a kind of very firm and stony blend of earth and metal with high content of iron-oxide, which gives the wines a very characteristic flavour of something fat and metallic, which many associate with truffles."

And from Frank Ward's Oeno File:

"The soil of Cheval Blanc, which is on the very border with Pomerol, is a mixture of clay, gravel, sand, and crasse de fer - rotting iron ore. The latter can impart truffly aromas and flavours."

From the Bordeaux Wine Site:

"Soil in Pomerol is a unique, outstanding geological phenomenon. The topsoil is made up of gravel that varies in compactness, with layers of clay and sand. The subsoil includes iron oxide, locally called "crasse de fer". This soil, combined with a special micro-climate, accounts for Pomerol's absolutely inimitable personality."

The Birth of a Career-or-How I Got Into the Wine Biz

People often ask me how I got into wine. I find it quite difficult to come up with a concrete answer to this question. There was no one magic bottle that did it for me. I have long been drawn to it. I admire the culture of wine drinking societies. I am intrigued by wine's fickle nature. I am easily bored by routine. Wine rarely bores. Each vintage, each successive tasting of a single vintage of the same wine produces different results on the palate. Change is inevitable. A wine evolves. New wines emerge. There exists a nearly infinite number of wines to discover and taste.

I think I’ve mentioned this in a previous post, but I am a whore for experience. I chase new sensations, flavors, smells, textures. Wine offers a variety of a magnitude that will keep me from the ennui of many other professions.

My first love was literature. It remains so. Wine is my mistress. For the moment she has superceded literature, who has taken a rather distant back seat to the infatuation with this seductive beverage.

While studying Comparative Literature at the University of Virginia I applied for a job as a waiter in a restaurant/wine bar/wine shop. My courtship of wine began much earlier than this however. I spent my childhood years in France surrounded by people who loved to eat and drink well (my father worked in a restaurant in Geneva). I remember people showing up for dinners at our house with bottles in hand and I recall being intrigued by the discussion around these wines.

After high school I worked for a while as an apprentice to the pastry chef in the only “fine dining” restaurant in my town (there was no wine shop there until about four years ago). As an employee I was able to buy wine at cost (and underage) and began trying wines here and there as money allowed.

When I departed for Hampshire College in Amherst, Mass my periodical subscriptions included Food and Wine, Gourmet, and Bon Appetit. For a while I thought I would go to culinary school for Pastry Arts. But literature continued to entrance and the idea of writing the next Great American Novel tempted me.

The financial burden of a Northeastern American private college led me back to Virginia and enrollment at UVa. I began reading wine writing in earnest then. I conducted research on the internet. I bought Parker’s Bordeaux book. Some nights I didn’t sleep in order to compare the prices of certain fine wines on Wine-Searcher.com.

Once it began, it became harder to repress. I fell hard. I couldn’t concentrate on Orlando Furioso. I thought about names with which I felt some mystical affinity: Gruaud Larose, Calon-Ségur, Giscours. On my 21st birthday (October 26, 2005) I walked from La Maison Française on the UVa campus (where I was currently living) to the downtown mall. Once there, I entered Tastings Restaurant/Wine Bar/Wine Shop and ordered a half glass of T. Solomon Wellborn Pinot Noir. The bartender asked me how I liked it. I responded with something to this effect: Very much, it has a nice fruit character and is quite soft. I surprised myself. I guess reading so many wine descriptions in Parker’s book had programmed into me the basic way to describe what I tasted.

I then inquired whether they might be hiring. In fact, yes they needed a server. I filled out the application while sipping. About a week later I commenced my tenure there. I stopped going to classes in order to pick up shifts. Bill, the curmudgeonly proprietor, is extremely knowledgeable about the subject and I picked his brain at every opportunity. I learned quickly. My appetite was so great for knowledge and experience that I began tasting as sales reps came in with their samples. Eventually I took over as bar manager and then front of house manager. Meanwhile, I was tasting anywhere from 30 to 80 wines a week.

The naive devotion and admiration I felt towards Bill gradually dwindled as I became more comfortable with the wine industry and my own knowledge increased. I realized that under his tutelage I was learning a great deal, but also basing my likes and dislikes according to his palate. He detested New World wines, adored Burgundy, and dismissed many interesting wines because of these prejudices. My palate became so calibrated to his that one day I decided that I needed to be able to decide for myself whether or not a wine was good without deferring to him.

I left Tastings shortly thereafter. A few month later I landed the job with Dionysos.

The Petrus I Never Had

This post may contain some shocking material and may not be suitable for the faint at heart wine lover. Please refrain from clenching your hands into fists and smashing them on your keyboard as you read this. Yes, injustice does run rampant in this world, and yes, it extends to wine as well.

Injustice number one: I have yet to taste a Latour, Margaux, Cheval Blanc, Ausone, or Pétrus despite my goal of tasting all the first growths by year’s end. I suppose I still have time…

Injustice number two: Wine is sensitive, “alive,” as Stacy loves to remind me in the midst of my note taking, deriding my “over analyzation” of this breathing beverage. As all living things, wine has certain basic needs. It needs love and attention for example. It needs shelter. It needs protection from the elements. It does not enjoy extremes of heat or cold. Neither does it enjoy vibrations. It does not travel particularly well and when forced to make a trip requires time to get over its jet lag. If you think I am kidding, buy a mid nineties vintage of 1er Cru burgundy while in France, pack it carefully in your suitcase, and bring it back to the United States on your trans-atlantic checked baggage. Proceed to open it up the moment you arrive home. Most likely it will not even resemble the wine from before your flight. What was I getting at? Oh yes, injustice number two: letting good wine (and in this case, great wine) go bad because of carelessness and/or insensitivity to its needs.

Let us examine Exhibit A: The widow of a fairly prominent American businessman decides to sell her house. The basement contains her husband’s (now deceased four years) walk-in cedar wine closet. It had been cooled by a Whisper Kool device or something like it. In the intervening period between his death and her decision to sell the house this device broke and only generated warm air. When we arrived on the scene the temperature was about 85 degrees Fahrenheit, which is suitable only for wine destined to become Madeira, NOT collectible Bordeaux and Burgundy.

The Rieslings were weeping as we made our way into the room. Slowly their tears accumulated at the lips of bottles and silently dripped onto the carpeted floor. I nearly cried as well, seeing these poor bottles so neglected. Insanity! The 1967 Pétrus (eleven bottles of this lousy vintage) bled, the pool of blood collecting on the ground below. It was obvious these wines were unhappy and calling desperately for help.

And a vertical of Latour, 1921, 1923, and 1945. 1945!!! Probably cooked. Why god, why?!?

But what could we do? Would you buy a wine on its deathbed, even if it said 1964 La Mission Haut Brion? It is hard to justify really. On one hand, the bottles represent trophies for the neophyte collector. Even if the wine is no longer wine but unpalatable liquid, the label excites and entrances nearly enough to merit a cash exchange. Rationally however, one must come to the realization that a bottle is nearly worthless and the money could be better spent on a living wine that would afford a pleasant imbibing experience. The problem with wine geeks like us is this: we want the experience, awful or amazing, of opening wines we usually can only read about because of limited funds. Thus, we were tempted by the treasure, most likely confederate currency, in the widow’s basement.

We made her an offer of a rather low sum, to which she responded that someone else would be coming to look at the cellar as well. He offered more. We lost out.

Or did we? I called back later to ascertain the status of the wine. Sold? Thrown out? Still there in the wine cellar-cum-sauna yearning for cooler air?

She has yet to be rid of her late husband’s wine collection. I bargained. Perhaps, if we could taste some of the wine…it would help us determine whether it has worth beyond the value of the pretty labels on the bottles…one or two…it couldn’t hurt. She agreed.

And then reneged. The wine is to sell with the house. Otherwise this post would have included tasting notes for 1964 DRC Echezeaux and 1967 Pétrus, the two wines we had earlier decided would be appropriate as she had multiple bottles of them. Despite 1967 being a “terrible” vintage, I was eager to try it. I mean, come on, it’s Pétrus.

Alas, I am still a Pétrus shy of achieving my first growth goal.

Ringing in the Work Week in Style: Dinner at Fleurie 08.20.07

We approached nearly fin de siècle decadence with this Monday night dinner at one of Charlottesville’s most respected dining establishments. There was no specific occasion for the gathering, other than a goodwill gesture to the proprietors for their continued support and a rather boring weekend that inspired in me some need for communion with other human beings. It has also been a vapid couple of weeks in the wine business, August being the quietest month of the year. I needed something uplifting to put me in a better mood…

We totaled six and included: Toby and Andrew (usually featured in the Thursdays in the Cellar posts), Tom (a personal chef and dear friend), Stacy (infamous, ubiquitous, Stacy) and her friend, now our friend, Jessica.

The evening began with a bottle of Pol Roger 1998 Rosé. My second time drinking this wine, it was its usual, delectable self. Pale orange color with a salmon tint. Evolved nose with a significantly yeasty quality about it along with a shocking, but not necessarily off-putting, hint of hairspray. Shocking because my previous experience with this wine (about a year ago) did not betray such volatility. Wild strawberry aromas in the mouth with a nice sense of sweetness leading into the mid-palate. Candied citrus and toast. Fine and delicate mousse. A full mid-weight Champagne with a finish of brown butter and orange rind. Persistent, with significant evolution in the mouth after the wine has been swallowed. Lovely.

Amuse Bouche: Salmon Rillete with Cauliflower Coulis.

Next up a flight of Chardonnays consisting of Staglin’s 2002 Estate Chardonnay (no malolactic fermentation, weighing in at 14.6% abv) and Morey-Coffinet’s 2004 Chassagne Montrachet “Les Houillières.”

The Staglin displayed a very toasted oak nose with some green apple and an underlying though subtle core of tropical fruit. In the mouth: very perfumed with a bit of buttered popcorn. Sweet attack and long through the finish. For not having undergone malolactic fermentation, it was surprisingly low in acidity. Full and viscous. Paired fantastically well with the shrimp risotto.

The Burgundy showed some weakness next to the Staglin, though I don’t suspect it would have fared better among its contemporaries in a more regionally focused tasting. Oak and lemon zest on the nose. Somewhat restrained at first – served much too cold. Pear, peach, and melon emerging after some time in the glass with a dash of pineapple deep in the nose. Creamy vanilla and lemon curd on the straightforward, linear palate. Lacking the acidity of the vintage. A bit thin and short with a hint of the compost bin about it. A good wine, but not worth the money it cost, neither on the wine list nor in a retail store. Considering the amount of great white burgundy out on the market right now, I’d give it a pass.

First COurse: (passed around the table in somewhat crass form) 1. Shrimp Risotto, 2. Scallop Tartare, and 3. Chilled Vegetable Salad on Brioche Toast Points.

The following flight consisted of two reds of polemically differing characters. They were: Domaine Maillard’s 2001 Corton Renardes and Chateau St. Jean’s 1998 Cabernet Sauvignon “Cinq Cépages” from Sonoma.

Maillard: Great color, showing no sings of age. Sweet, oak spice dominating the nose along with red cherry and a little barnyard. Incredibly fresh—almost primary—I could smell the acidity. Hints of violet mid nose, but very subtle, not overwhelmingly floral or vegetal for that matter. On the palate: oak very present but not intrusive with some iodine and a touch of heat. Huge acidity. Needs time. We probably should have decanted this wine, though it showed very well. I said give it ten years, to which everyone looked up at me in dismay. Stacy loved it and said drink now. I’d give it another three to five years without blinking. It is a lean wine with plenty of endurance. My only reservation is the level of oak and that touch of alcohol noticeable on the palate. I don’t think ten years is out of its capabilities. A matter of personal preference. If I had another bottle of this wine (which I don’t, I admit rather sadly) I would wait about seven years. Perhaps on the occasion of my 30th birthday? Maillard’s Corton Renardes happily ending the streak of disappointing Burgundies. Terrific.

St. Jean: Holding up, despite the “poor” vintage conditions that led many a critic to bash this year. Consequentially, I have picked up a few of California’s more iconic wines for relatively low prices and have enjoyed most of them. Vegetal nose of overcooked asparagus with some rich berry fruit aromas on the periphery. There is a richness here that indicates why this wine is so appreciated by many consumers, though something is obviously lacking. Rich, but not opulent. Like the shell of the wine it could be. Plush on the palate, but lacking balance with noticeable alcohol. Despite the heat, very nice. Smooth and soft. The texture is really quite captivating. Caramel on the finish. Really, a bit petulant, this wine. Quite likeable. A bit of menthol emerging: Wrigley’s Double Mint Gum. It definitely evolved throughout the night, though came to a screeching halt by the end of the dinner. Very endearing. If you see it on the sale rack of your local wine store for half its original price, it might be worth a try.

(I should mention the rather heated argument that began over the movie Sideways and Miles’s abhorrence of the Merlot grape. Stacy trying to convince all of us of the deep irony of his drinking a Cheval Blanc. Toby retorting that it was merely a surface irony, his quip about Merlot being more of an attack on oaky, alcoholic California Merlot. Myself maintaining that Cheval Blanc is more Cab Franc than Merlot (well, the vineyard anyway).)

For good measure, Stacy threw in one of her wines into the red lot: Oriel’s “Alma de Llicorella” 2002 Priorat. Oriel is a new line of wines brought out by an Irish entrepreneur with a love of fine wine. Basically, he uses one label for his various wines from different parts of the world. Thus, there is an Oriel Priorat, Bordeaux, Cali Zin, etc.
The Priorat showed notes of dried sour cranberry, cherry liqueur, and cedar. On the palate it was quite fresh with good acidity. I thought it a younger wine, 2004, actually. A bit primary at this point with some unripe banana cropping up. Full and heady, but extremely tight.

Entrées included: Andrew-lamb, Toby-Squab (with seared foie gras, by far the winner among the dishes), Jessica-Halibut, Stacy-Filet, Tom-Sweet Breads, Myself-Lobster (my first time ordering this in a restaurant, I did not much care for it).

In truth, the first course overshadowed the entrées, as did the wines. The chef also sent out a seared scallop as an intermezzo between the first course and entrées. It was perfectly cooked and delicious.

For dessert we consumed (or in my case inhaled) a half bottle of 1990 de Suduiraut (my third time with this wine and my second post about it) and a 500 ml of 2000 Royal Tokaji Aszú 5 Puttonyos (Stacy’s pick). We drank these with the parfait of foie gras as an accompaniment. The Sauternes and the dish marrying so well I nearly cried.

The Suduiraut showed extremely well, very similar to my previous experience with it only a couple of months prior. Incredible botrytised nose. I could have inhaled the scent all night. Peaches, cooked apricots, honey, and orange blossom. Sweet, fat, and viscous. Seemed low in acidity compared to the Tokaji, but it was there, holding things together. Highly recommended. If you have a sweet tooth, you will not be disappointed.

The Tokaji: much lighter in color with a nose that reminded me of apricot baby food. Very soft, restrained nose. Incredible acidity. Lacked the viscosity of the Suduiraut, though this is an unfair comparison. Smoky. Very young. Botrytis emerging after some aeration as well as a dominant scent of golden raisins. Overwhelmed by the Suduiraut, but this was still a delicious drink.

Breaking News: Passing With Distinction

On May 29, 2007 I sat for the WSET (Wine and Spirit Education Trust) Level 3 Advanced Certificate in Wines and Spirits through the Washington Wine Academy in Washington DC. As I live two hours south of there I was unable to attend the classes taught by Jay Yeomans, MW. I felt at a disadvantage, for when I was able to attend a couple of the sessions I found them extremely advantageous and educational. For some reason, having someone with confidence and experience explaining a topic such as the hierarchy of German wine classification, makes it easier to comprehend than the book containing exactly the same information.

The WSET program of certification is well known in Britain, but hardly known in the USA. It is often considered a prerequisite for the Master of Wine program. The curriculum therefore, has a significantly Anglocentric slant, with chapters devoted to the wines of the UK and Eastern Europe (Cabernet Sauvignon from Bulgaria represented the largest import of that varietal for the United Kingdom in the mid 1990s), despite their negligible presence on the American market.

I learned of the WSET program through reading Neal Martin's Wine Journal before this fine (as it continues to be) internet publication was absorbed by the Parker Monarchy of Wine Criticism. I wanted to do what Neal Martin was doing, namely tasting and writing about fine wines, so I followed his lead and enrolled in the course.

After fifteen weeks of waiting for the results to arrive, I've discovered that I have passed in the top percentile of my class, earning distinction in both the theory and the tasting components of the test.

Phew!

Next will be the WSET Diploma Program, a two year, extremely intensive and rigorous study of the wine trade. This is the final prerequisite to complete before applying to the MW program.

My Current Metier and What It Involves

I suppose I have been rather reticent and somewhat obscure regarding my job description up to this point. I shall expand upon “what it is I do” for those of you out there who (I’m sure) are dying to know.

Here is a typical exchange in many social situations when I am surrounded by strangers and must make small talk:

Stranger: So, what do you do?
Me: I sell wine.
Stranger: Like, at a restaurant or wine shop or something?
Me: No. I work for an Importer/Wholesaler/Distributor.

At which point the conversation usually branches off into one of several possible directions including:

So, can you get me wine on the cheap?
OR
Do you sell two buck chuck? I love that stuff! You know it is the best Chardonnay in America, right?


Or else people proceed to tell me everything they know about wine, including the wine they use to drink in the 1970s, and do you think you could get me some? I don’t really understand this response. I mean, if you told me you were a podiatrist I wouldn’t try to tell you everything I know about feet.

Actually, most people are usually curious and ask more legitimate questions and I give them the rundown:

I work for a Company called Dionysos Imports (yes, that’s the Greek god of Wine and Revelry). We started as a Greek Wine importing company in 1991. Luckily, my boss soon realized that he wouldn’t be able to make much of a living in Greek wines alone and got into France and soon expanded to most of the other main wine producing regions in Europe and the new world. We definitely have a European focus. Our strong points lie in France, Greece, and Portugal. We work mostly with small, family owned wineries. Most everything is of artisan quality and by default is small production.

I basically go “door to door” to different restaurants and retail stores with select samples and taste the wine buyers at each establishment on these various wines. If they like one or think they can sell one, they buy it. Sometimes it’s as few as three bottles and sometimes as much as 40 cases. I make more money if I sell 40 cases.

That’s it. Pretty easy, actually. Kind of boring sometimes too…

A Going Away Dinner for Marita with Pibarnon Rose

Chez Ed and Vicky, on the occasion of Marita leaving for Temple Law School

A particularly fine dinner with my parents, siblings, and Marita. Nothing forced. Not trying. My father on his best behavior, despite the amount of wine…

We started with Maison Ambroise’s Crémant de Bourgogne. A treat for various reasons, one being that sparkling wine from Burgundy is a rarity in this market, and also because I am quite a fan of this producer. One of the best Burgundies I’ve had so far in my career was Ambroise’s 1997 (I know, a purportedly mediocre vintage) Corton Le Rognet. His Crémant had an assertive, biscuity nose; firm, but not overly aggressive mousse. Fresh and full. Lacking a bit of complexity, the finish muted. A nice sparkler though. Quite complementary to Vicky’s eggplant “caviar.”

My father had been keen to make a shrimp curry for some time and was pleased to finally have an audience for this dish with Marita and, to a lesser extent, myself. He pulled it off rather well for a Cuban. With this dish we rather heartily consumed Chateau de Pibarnon’s 2006 Bandol Rosé. Pale salmon pink with a tinge of orange. Notes of white peach and cranberry on the nose with hints of strawberry and some white pepper. A very finely balanced palate displaying stone fruits, mainly nectarines and a wisp of bosc pear. Showing great typicity. Extremely classy and refined, the Jackie O of rosés. Frankly, too subtle for the curry dish, but a pleasure to drink nonetheless.

We finished up the evening in the usual Mestre family fashion with a platter of cheeses. Along with this I served the 1995 Chateau Simard from Saint Emilion. Always a curious wine, and usually a little underwhelming, it nevertheless proved quite satisfactory and appropriate with the cheese. A sweet, lactic nose showing its age. Cheese rind, menthol, and a whiff of nuttiness. A bit leafy with a hint of alcohol coming through. On the palate, a medium weight wine with fairly solid balance and decent structure. Firm acidity and mouth drying, nearly resolved tannins. Red cherry pie filling and some wet earth, finishing with a touch of bitterness. Capable of lasting another five years, though I don’t see much chance it will greatly improve. As it was given to me I have no complaints however.

Thursdays in the Cellar: Dominus Dinner Part 2

We commenced with the pleasant Chardonnay based Champagne from Agrapart et Fils “Les 7 Crus,” that is, made from grapes of all seven of his rated vineyard sites, many of them being of Grand Cru status. Toby informed us that this producer still uses an ox to pull his cart through the vineyards during the harvest, eschewing any mechanization at all. A pale yellow color with a fairly explosive attack with some sweetness noted. A sense of yellow apples and a present minerality. Good acidity. Settling down, not an aggressive mousse, but fine. Yeasty. Nice foil to the pecorino on the grilled nectarine.

Next up Andrew served us a salad of bitter greens along with Régis Cruchet’s 1994 Vouvray Sec. Deep, golden color. Initially, a very musty smell typical of old Chenin, but blowing off with some aeration. The acidity quite present on the nose. Not a great sense of fruit, but many tertiary aromas shyly coming forward including a very intriguing sense of almond paste. On the palate: huge acidity with the almond paste bringing up the rear. Timid attack followed by a firm mid-palate and long finish. A bit vegetal and a hint of alcohol coming through on the nose, along with some vanilla extract. An interesting wine, but probably should have been drunk a few years ago.

The next wine represented my contribution to the dinner, Vincent and François Jouard’s 2004 Chassagne Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumées. Very tight and needing some time to shed its cloak of oak, this wine nevertheless performed extremely well showing an intense minerality and a hint of buttered popcorn. Sweet, oaky attack with vanilla creaminess dominating. Full bodied, rich, and well-balanced with firm acidity. Floral notes coming through after some aeration (honeysuckle) and a slightly medicinal aspect. Oak very prominent, and dominating the subtler aromas. Needs time. Let’s just hope the oak doesn’t take over but integrates. I’d give it another two to three years (?).

Because I don’t usually eat steak, I asked Sean, the chef over at Cassis to prepare for me a dinner to go. He cooked some delicious scallops that went perfectly with the burgundy. The richness of the wine and the scallops married together extremely well, while the acidity saved it from heaviness. The oak and slight citrus notes of the wines highlighted and were expanded by the scallops. Really delicious. Thanks Sean!

Then came a flight of two vintages of Dominus, the Cabernet Sauvignon lite 1994 (only 72%) and the more typical 1996 (82%). Toby decanted both of these wines about two and a half hours prior to service. After some confusion around the table, it was determined that the 1996 would be on the left and the 1994 on the right.

1996: Oaky, chocolatey nose. Very dense, rich, and surprisingly, a bit closed. A touch of alcohol noted, as well as sweet red cherries, and then more alcohol. On the palate: very full and generous, a bit monolithic, again dense. Some heat. Faint hint of unripe banana, leather, violets. Some tannin. Evolving with a bit of cranberry and an almost liqueur like cherry component. Again, the alcohol present. For me this wine is a bit incomplete and lacking the balance of the more harmonious and integrated 1994. Perhaps two more years in bottle will smooth out the rough edges, but I wouldn’t put my money on it. Overall, a very good wine, no doubt California wine fans will find it to their liking. I however, cannot get past the alcohol.

1994: More advanced. A bit of a milky quality and slightly vegetal with cedar and sweet spice on the nose. The palate shows better integration with very nice balance (though tenuous). A big wine, but carrying itself well. More subdued than its younger sibling. Milk chocolate and a lot of licorice, fennel, and a touch of menthol. A density not unlike the 1996, though seemingly more penetrable. Evolving, with notes of tobacco and leather. Seamless palate. Very, very nice. A bit more effeminate, which is to my liking. Bravo.

1999 Karlsmuhle Kaseler Nies’chen Riesling Auslese “Geiben”: A honeyed nose with notes of ripe apricots, white flowers, and a dash of petrol. Very well balanced, with attractive sweetness (not overly so) and strong supporting acidity. Full and rich. Delicious.

I’ll note here that the conversation took an interesting turn when Ted mentioned that he is unwilling to buy German wine as he feels it somewhat compromises his ethics. Evidently he maintains a picture in his head that an old Nazi grandpa comfortably wiles away his remaining days from the profits of a family owned winery. Cathy, usually quite outspoken in her views, felt she had something to say to this, especially being Jewish. She may have succeeded in disabusing Ted of maintaining his German wine boycott.

2003 Baumard Quarts de Chaume: Clearly something not quite right here. Tinny, canned asparagus aromas. Very sweet without much acidity, reflecting the vintage I suppose. Candied citrus emerging after some aeration, along with burnt sugar. A lactic quality about it. I can’t quite remember this, but I wrote: like a baked pie crust (indecipherable word) without a concluding part to the sentence. Eminently forgettable. Must try a good example of this wine as this was most likely cooked.

Thursdays in the Cellar: Dominus Dinner Part 1

I must apologize to those who have been awaiting this post. My internet service provider failed about four weeks ago and I had no time before leaving on my trip to France to fix it. Fortunately, everything is now in working order (though I did have to switch companies) and my trip proved fabulous. Look for upcoming posts regarding my time in Burgundy and Champagne in the near future...

This post continues the Thursdays in Cellar series that I hope becomes a regular event as it provides great material for Crasse de Fer and, of course, is quite enjoyable. The Cellar proprietors are Toby, Andrew, and Ted, all recognizable figures in Charlottesville’s burgeoning wine scene. They share space in a building on the mall and the collection includes bottles from each of their respective private collections as well as collectively owned bottles. I admire the concept greatly as it allows them to buy and try wines without the financial burden resting solely on one person. This appears to be especially appropriate as premium wine prices continue to soar (along with the Euro).

On this particular Thursday we made use of a mutual friend’s home as our rendez-vous destination since dinner in the cellar itself did not seem entirely appropriate or feasible. At about 4;30 PM I received a phone call from Stacy who told me that the previously discussed Dominus Dinner would be taking place that evening. I promptly called Andrew in order to secure a reservation (and yes, by that I do mean I invited myself). By 7:00 PM most of us were gathered together under one roof. We numbered seven (how lucky) and included: Toby and his date Cathy, Andrew, Ted and his wife Bonnie, Stacy, and Myself.

Altogether we consumed four courses of food, diligently and thoughtfully prepared by Andrew, and enjoyed (mostly) seven wines. They were:

1. NV Champagne Agrapart et Fils “Les 7 Crus” Blanc de Blancs (with grilled nectarines topped with prosciutto and pecorino).
2. 1994 Régis Cruchet Vouvray Sec (with an arugula salad – I’ve failed to note the accoutrements of this dish, my apologies)
3. 2004 V & F Jouard Chassagne Montrachet 1er Cru Les Chaumées “Clos de la Truffière” Vieilles Vignes (sadly, alone)
4. 1996 Dominus
5. 1994 Dominus (with its younger sibling in a flight accompanied by grilled steak)
6. 1999 Karlsmuhle Kaseler Nies’chen Riesling Auslese “Geiben” (with a fruit tart)
7. 2003 Baumard Quarts de Chaume

See Part II for tasting notes…