Bing!

“When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.”

Being a big fan of Bill Murray (a living White Guy) and Anton Chekhov (a Dead White Guy) I couldn’t help but think of the above quote from Groundhog Day this afternoon as continued working my way through some of the latest releases of Pope Valley Winery. It was the Rose that had me particularly yearning for this weather to break.

The new apartment into which I moved several months ago has the perfect little area for a picnic with some vino and me as the grillmaster. I’m really looking forward to the opportunity to make an assortment of light appetizers for a handful of my good friends – tapas – which if you read this blog regularly, I’m sure you already realize that I’m a pretty big fan of quite a few simple yet interesting dishes, much like my wine.

I cracked a bottle of Pope Valley Winery’s 2005 Sangiovese Bella Rosa this evening and it had me thinking of my upcoming gathering. First, my projected menu:

pan a la Catalana // pimientos estilo gernika // aceitunas mixtas
toasted bread topped with garlic, tomato & coriander
grilled poblano peppers with sea salt
mixed Spanish olives

serrano y manchego // champiñones al ajillo
Spanish cheese wrapped in ham
fried oyster mushrooms

paella de chorizo // pollo y limon // coredero moruno
seafood & sausage paella
chicken cooked in white wine, lemon juice and thyme
skewered marinated lamb

Now there’s no doubt in mind as I drink this wine that I’m going to have to add some tuna tartare to the list, but this wine is what I’ll be serving – along with some Sangria and some sherry and probably some Madeira when it’s time to relax.

I have always personally thought that the White Zinfandel Craze is kind of off base. Not that I have a problem with pink wines – by all means I love rose wine. But White Zinfandel comes from the (red) zinfandel grape. Zinfandel generally achieves uber-maturity, and so when making White Zin, rather than fermenting it to 16% alcohol they leave a bit of sugar. (Sugar converts to alcohol in fermentation. To simplify, if a winemaker leaves some unfermented sugar in a wine, the alcohol is less.) I generally don’t like sweet wines unless they have quite a bit of acidity to counterbalance them (such as in a well-made German Riesling). That’s why I’ve always thought lower-alcohol grapes such as Pinot Noir and (as is the case here) Sangiovese make better rose – pink wines.

In the bottle I have before me, the Pope Valley Winery 2005 Sangiovese Bella Rosa, I have a wine that served just slightly chilled (European Cellar Temperature – about 55 degrees), would pair with just about anything – and certainly please the most discerning palate when served with a diverse menu of foods such as those listed above. I’m looking forward to my upcoming picnic and more bottles of Pope Valley’s Wine. Dry, versatile and spicy with a touch of clay and a touch of chocolate. Nice acidity, fresh and aromatic. I can already taste it with pan a la Catalana and some paella. I suggest you to do the same! For the record, this would be great with one of my favorite slightly pretentious but inexpensive brunch items - an omelette of tomatoes, leeks and steamed mussels. Or Quiche. Or just about anything else one can dream up for a nice brunch...

So although I am starting to belive the words of Phil Connors, who tells us, “There is no way this winter is *ever* going to end as long as that groundhog keeps seeing his shadow. I don't see any way out of it,” I’m looking forward to some tapas and rose REALLY SOON, on the deck with some friends!

An Apple a Day...

Wine writers and professionals write tasting notes very differently. The "old way" consisted of less flavor and aroma descriptors and concentrated a bit more on charcteristics more fundamental to a wine and its development: texture, balance, length in the palate, etc. Most of the traditional British Wine Writers favored this method. Among them is the venerable Clive Coates, M.W. (Master of Wine). Here is an example of one of Coates' tasting notes, from one of my favorite Red Burgundies, 1965 Volnay Premier Cru Champans from the Marquis d'Angerville.

"Medium-full color. This is a little lean for the vintage. But perhaps it is still closed. The nose is classy and aromatic - nutty. The finish long and satisfying. The genrosity I'm sure will appear. Very good but not the class and depth for great."

It doesn't matter that I enjoyed the wine more (several years later). What is important is how his tasting note differs from the more modern approach, generall attributed to or at least having its beginnings with Robert Parker. An example from Mr. Parker. It is the same wine, vineyard and producer, but from a more recent vintage, the 1999 vintage:

"The medium to dark ruby-colored 1999 Volnay Champans, from a 4-hectare parcel where 50% of the vines are 40 years of age and the balance over 10 years, displays a sweet blackberry nose. Medium-bodied, this wine has an excellent depth of fruit, a supple, velvety texture, and a fresh personality. Loads of intense blackberry, cassis, plum, and spice flavors can be found in its juicy and expressive character. Drink it over the next 7-8 years."

It is not my intention to debate these two disparate techniques here, but rather examine the oft-asked question: can wine writers really taste such sensations? I emphatically say yes, though I admit that my notes tend to be somewhere in between the two examples given here and if anything are usually less wordy than either.

Nonetheless, as I was sitting down for a wholesome meal of pork chops, sauerkraut and baked apples Sunday, I did my own taste test, that I invite you to repeat at home. I had purchased three types of apples, Macintosh, Fuji and "green" apples to bake with some brown sugar and to accompany my main course. If wine writers and professionals are going to distinguish between Macintosh and Fuji, they'd better have distinguishing characteristics. So I sliced away and set about my tasting.

Very quickly it became clear that the three apples smell and taste very dissimilar. The green apples as expected were typified by a brief sugar-sweetness as they tocuhed my palate and then dominated by the pronounced attack of biting, lemony acidity that followed through forever in the finish. The texture of the Macintosh struck me as it had a waxiness that was not present at all in the green apples and appeared only in traces in the Fuji apples. Flavors and aromas of bananas distinguished the Fujis. In fact the dry, waxiness coupled with the aromas and flavors in the end reminded me very much of the taste of banana as well. I'd like to repeat the experiment with other families of foodstuffs, but my initial observations are that when I say I taste green apples and when I say I taste Macintosh apples, that I am correctly pointing out very distinct flavor sensations. I suspect that with a little practice, or maybe your own experiment or two, you can do the same.

The Great American Grape

As a follow up to my previous post that included my resipe for Al's Super-Easy Chili, I wanted to discuss what wines to drink with it. Instinctively, maybe refelxively, if I am asked what wine to drink with Spicy Tex-Mex dishes or just anything on a grill save grilled fish, my answer is usually Zinfandel. After all, we are talking about "the Great American Race" and from a gastronomical standpoint, grilling is as American as Apple Pie and chili probably figures in there somewhere as well.

So why Zinfandel? From wikipedia,

Although similar to other varieties of the Vitis vinifera imported from Europe, Zinfandel was long considered "America's vine and wine." Zinfandel was brought to the United States (Long Island) from a varietal collection of the Imperial State Nursery of Vienna in the 1820s. In the cooler climates it was grown in greenhouses. In California the first Zinfandel vineyards were planted in the 1830s. Its popularity grew swiftly, and by the end of the 19th century it became the most widespread variety in the US.

Vintners have grown Zinfandel in quantity for over one hundred years. Many of the oldest wineries in California grow Zinfandel and the vines are now treated almost like historic landmarks. At the start of prohibition Zinfandel was California's most popular and successful variety. During prohibition, limited home winemaking and the production of sacramental wine was allowed, and Zinfandel remained popular with Northern California's home wine makers. However, on the East Coast Zinfandel fell in popularity and was replaced by thicker-skinned varieties. Zinfandel's tight bunches left its thin skins susceptible to rot on the slow train rides to Eastern home wine makers. The creation of White Zinfandel in the 1970s further saved the vines by providing a larger market for the grape. In the 1990s the market for premium wine increased sufficiently that old vine Zinfandel became valuable on its own.

(Further reading of the article will show that we have in more recent times come to the conclusion that Zinfandel is probably actually from Italy, a realtive of the Primitivo grape; even so, Zinfandel secured it's place as "the Great American Grape" long ago.)


So if Zinfandel is "the Great American Grape" and foods such as Burgers and Chili are our cook's badges of honor, wouldn't be lucky if the wine and the food paired well together, so that we, like the French, Italians, etc. would have wines that go with our regional cusine? The fortunate answer is that they do.

Take, Escafeld Winery's 2003 Monterey County Zinfandel, one of our latest discoveries. Even Al's Super-Easy Chili is an incredibly complex blend of flavors - cumin, chili peppers, green peppers, black peppers, tomatoes, kidney beans, onions, beef, pork, vinegar, garlic, sharp cheddar cheese - that's a lot of different flavors in one little bowl. A wine with subtle flavors just simply doesn't work. I regualrly make the argument that Red Burgundy (Pinot Noir from France) is the world's most versatile red wine, but the Musignys and Gevreys of the world need not apply here: although they have remarkable complexity, Pinots, especially those from Burgundy, are more about finesse than pronounced flavors (not too mention haunting aromatics that would get lost in the robust scents of chili). Escafeld's Zin on the other hand, hits the spot. The interplay of spice and sweet fruits (raisins, ripe berries) not to mention the chocolatey finish mimcs the contrapuntal flavors of, for example, spanish onions and chilis.

We have already implied the nextrequirement for a Chili-wine: it must be robust, an appropriate descriptor for the Escafeld Zin. What I like a lot about the Escafeld Zin is that, while it is a full-bodied ande robust wine, it is still a wine of balance, the most important element in any wine for me. Robust yes, but all the elements are in equilibrium; not unlike the addition of vinegar in the chili, as I described it in my previous post. Too much, and you get a really strong acetic taste and smell, and you might as well start agin. But there is a certain point in any dish where the right amount of salt or acid (acetic, i.e. vinegar, or citric, i.e. lemon, lime, orange, etc.) or any wine where the right amount of alcohol, sugar, ripeness, tannin and acidity are all in perfect balance. So once you have the chili down pat, it will require much less effort to pull the cork on Escafeld's 2003 Monterey Zin. A "Great American Wine" with a "Great American Dish" during the "Great American Race": robust, balanced and simply delicious.

For more on Escafeld winery, visit their product page on www.avawine.com or visit the entertaining Vineyard Diary of our friend Elsbeth Wetherill, co-owner of Escafeld vineyards. Among other things, you can read Elsbeth's comments on Escafeld Winery's 2004 Petit Verdot, Double-Gold "Best of Class" Winner in the recent San Francisco Wine Chronicle Competition - the subject of my next blog entry.