6.03.2009

A two-fer

V-Solo Verdejo (left)
Country: Spain
Thoughts: I've been blessed by getting good wine after good wine at Whole Foods, and at great prices too. Perhaps it caught up with me here. I was under the impression that this was some kind of secretive blend; there was no indication anywhere just what kind of wine this was. By the nose and taste alone, a good chunk - if not all - seemed to be sauvignon blanc. The telltale grassiness was more than a little evident; and if someone like me can pick it out, then anyone can. But it lacked a certain crispness, and the finish was rather predictable. An average wine with so little available information? I'll look elsewhere in the bargain aisle, thanks.
Do-over? Not for me
Final Grade: C-

Legado Malbec (right)
Country: Argentina
Thoughts: I think I've gotten enough reds under my belt to be able to assign a letter grade. So this is our virgin entry: I know that Argentinian malbecs are a popular choice for consumers at the moment, and I've been lucky to have one that I would gladly drink again. This one, however, didn't measure up quite so well. It's been several days since I tried it, so the details have become a little foggy. But I just remember thinking that I wish this wine would jump up and grab me and give me a reason to get into it, but it never did. That previous malbec had a good mouthfeel and an inviting bouquet. This had neither, at least not to the level of the previous wine. Sorry I can't be more specific with it other than to say I've had better and fully intend to have better in the near future.
Do-over? Not of this label, no
Final Grade: C

EDIT:
Thanks to Dave McIntyre's always-interesting Washington Post column, we've learned that verdejo is its own varietal. This particular grape "celebrates the commoner," he writes, though I fear this example is nearer to flipping the bird.

6.02.2009

Where have I been? And why am I back?

Some of you know me. Those that do realize the tumultuous few months it's been, particularly as it pertains to the old professional life.

I didn't intend to stop writing about wine; it just happened. Then again, how many events happen to us that really were expected?

Nevertheless, I was nudged to peck the keyboard again by my brother-in-law and by a more unseemly force. During a recent vacation, I passed the idle time by reading A Very Good Year by Mike Weiss, which traces a vintage of Ferrari-Carano's Fume Blanc from vine to table.

While I won't give away the conclusion, it again reinforced something that had been nagging at me for some time: Wine Spectator is full of shit.

Read their wine reviews. How does anyone make sense of that silliness? What relevance is there for us who are not sommeliers, who merely desire for a worthwhile drink from time to time? Where is the thought that maybe, just maybe, you can pay less than $20 for a damn good bottle of wine?

Yes, they do their top values list or what have you. But it's such a small selection of what they review, and they're reviewing to a different standard.

I do agree that varietal characteristics should be of some importance. If you buy a sauv, there should be some sort of representation of that grape in the bottle. I readily admit that I fall short in these areas, particularly as it relates to the less-popular whites and most reds.

But the most important question is never answered: Is it a good drink? Is it worth buying again?

My answers are subjective, just as Spectator's numbers are. But I like to think I'm representative of some segment of the population that thinks, you know what? I don't much care about fig and honeysuckle and whatever inane terms they use to describe a wine. I just want something enjoyable. (Plus I don't ask for a fee for the privilege of reading what I think.)

Wine doesn't have to be as hard as certain places make it. You either like it or you don't, and we're not going to agree on every grade or every synopsis.

So here's the difference: I don't portray myself as an authority. I'm one man with an idea of what he likes and what he doesn't. I try to give as full a picture of the wine as I can in terms that anyone can understand. But it's just one person's opinion.

You could get into the conflict-of-interest argument, as the book does. I buy my own wine. No one is clamoring for me to sample their product. Frankly, I hope it never gets to that point; I'm sick of most sports enough as it is. I'd hate to tire of wine too.

I think my problem with WS is more of a conflict of perception. Let me make this clear: They are wine experts. They know of what they speak.

But their magazine and the way it carries itself is very off-putting. It glorifies the Grand Crus and French first-growths that most of us will never have the means to get our hands on, whether monetarily or simply as a matter of availability. In every edition I've bought, I see long articles about charity events or wine auctions that, again, are beyond the reach of most of us.

It sells an image, a lifestyle that mirrors that of the products it reviews: Wine is luxurious, for people in the know, for the affluent, a way to distinguish one's self from the riffraff of Bud Light drinkers.

It is my firm belief that wine need not be that way.

And that's why I'm here. Wine can be discussed in layman's terms; it is not the province of the rich or knowledgeable. Wine can be good even if it doesn't adhere to strict interpretations. Wine can be a good way to blow off some steam.

I'm confident Wine Spectator does not subscribe to this line of thinking. Which explains why I will not be subscribing to them.

I'll be back tomorrow to detail some of my offseason exploits and write about a few wines I've had recently.

Thanks for sticking with me.

3.03.2009

Seacliff Sauvignon Blanc '06

Country: USA
Region: California
Thoughts: I was listening to the 3 Wine Guys' podcast a week or so ago when one of them said something that struck me. When they started that little adventure, he said, they were picking out wines that appealed to them. But over the course of time, as they became more knowledgeable, having varietally correct wines became just as important. So this Seacliff, purchased during the binge at World Market some time ago, came off as just another wine. Yes, it wasn't bad and yes, I'd consider doing it over again. But there wasn't one characteristic of sauv that I was able to pick out. The nose was kind of fresh, but not in the way I'd come to expect with a sauv. The taste was dry with big hints of orange, but nothing in the way of what I'd come to expect from a sauv. So I suppose I'm at a crossroads. Do I want to keep tasting wines as I have been? Or is it time to incorporate whether a wine held true to its characteristic? Maybe it's just time to give weight to both. I mean, I probably wouldn't have guessed this was a sauv; I might have said a shitty pinot. But in the end, the wine has to be good and those standards over in the right-hand column still apply. I still want to be wowed, but I guess now I want a greater context, too.
Do-over? Perhaps
Final Grade: C+

3.02.2009

Gaetano D'Aquino Pinot Grigio '06

Country: Italy
Thoughts: It's good to be back. A rough work schedule and bouts with the typical winter colds prevented us from digging into the wine bin over the past few weeks. We hope that can change now that we're mostly over the colds - we hope, anyway. You'll also notice that the pic is considerably different; this was a chance to me to show off the latest computer purchase, a copy of Photoshop Elements (bought for a completely different purpose than this). The shadow was created by me; and, admittedly, this was done pretty half-assed. There's a lot wrong with it aesthetically, or at least it seems so to me. But I'm not at work and I've got other things to do tonight. So you get what you get. Perhaps by now you've noticed I'm beating around the bush. Truth is, there's not much to report about this wine. There was nothing I could detect on the nose. And there seemed to be nothing to the taste. The only comparison I could make - and anyone who knows me knows that there is nothing more damning than this - was that it tasted like Coors Light. You know, the whole sex in a canoe thing. So I've tried to gussie this thing up a little by prattering on about nothing, which seems wholly apropos.
Do-over? Nope
Final Grade: D

3.01.2009

Terra Barossa Eden Valley Pinot Grigio '07

Country: Australia
Thoughts: As D.C. gets pummeled with a snowstorm - five inches or better, supposedly - there was no better time to jump back in and get with the wine tastings. The poor fridge is bursting at the seams, for heaven's sake. While on a recent assignment, I happened to be in a town that had a nice little wine shop, or so I'd read. When I found some time to slip away, I did so. And this one caught my eye. I thought, hmmm, a pinot from Australia; you don't see many of those. (If I had any sort of memory, I might have recalled that, in fact, I had already done a pinot from Australia.) But I came at this one from a different angle: Could I taste the difference between this, the Aussie version, and the other pinots I've tried - which, with a handful of exceptions, came from the U.S. or Italy? Not only could I taste a difference, it almost seemed like this was a different grape altogether. The Lindemans largely held true to form; this did not. In many ways, from nose to tongue, it had more elements of a sauvignon blanc than a pinot. This was fruit backward, to twist a phrase, with hints of stoniness and earthiness coming here and there. It was restrained; the rush of flavor never really happened. Additionally, it didn't seem to have a lot of structure to it. The slight earthiness was there, and that was about it. Still, it didn't taste bad, and was considerably different than the other pinots I've had. An example of extreme terroir, perhaps?
Do-over? It would depend on my mood
Final Grade: C+

2.16.2009

Velt.1 GrĂ¼ner Veltliner '07

Country: Austria
Thoughts: Just prior to the Oregon trip, I came across multiple references to some wine called Gruner Veltliner (and I'm sorry I can't recreate the umlaut in the text here). I think I saw one in an article somewhere, another was a selection on a wine list that I didn't get to. The name kind of stuck in my head, and I meant to look for some in Oregon but didn't get the chance. Once we returned - I and my suitcase, my wife and her cold - I had to do a lot of dinner purchasing for the following week. One night, after a mix-up in communication, I was left waiting while our order was prepared; I took a walk two doors down to Whole Foods. After perusing the regular wine area, I went to a nearby row with all their specials. There, at last, was the wine I'd been reading so much about. Ever-helpful Wiki says that it's a grape that doesn't grow anywhere beyond Austria and the Czech Republic - not exactly Burgundy and Napa. And, in truth, the wine didn't disappoint; you know how I hate building up unfounded hype in my own head. But this wine seemed to have different characteristics of more well-known wines all rolled into one. It had a bit of chard taste to it and there was some definite sauv grassiness to it. The first whiff included a small hint of fruit but mostly there was a burnt smell to it; not in an obnoxious way, mind you, but enough that it had a distinct bouquet. On the tongue, that burnt quality morphed slightly; instead of burnt, it was a peculiar kind of dry. But the smell and taste were close enough (if, in fact, you can really establish those two as a pair) that they seemed to be relates. It almost seemed like I was tasting a little dirt - and I mean that in the most kind way possible. It was like sauv that way, only more intense; the earthiness of the sauv to the fifth degree. It was laid back otherwise, perhaps with a bit of fruitiness, again in a similar proportion as the nose was. The finish was long and strong, going from a brief dryness to a honey that held on. It was an interesting wine in that the best word I could find for it was savory, as in that there was little sweetness per se to be had. Like an anti-pinot grigio. Yet it was a very compelling wine and the radical departure from what I'm used to gives it a high score on the adventure scale. And it's a great value, too.
Do-over? I could definitely see that
Final Grade: B+

2.12.2009

di Lenardo Pinot Grigio '07

Country: Italy
Thoughts: Like the last batch of posts, this one comes a few days late as well. These wines were all sampled in Oregon; I've gone over some of the reasons we didn't get to them earlier. This time, there's less of an excuse other than sheer tiredness; that's a long time in the plane from Portland to Phoenix and back to D.C. But now that we're back to a normal schedule, I anticipate more timely updates going forward. So di Lenardo... I gotta be honest, I tried this but I really didn't want to. I don't know if I'm bored with pinots or what; maybe I'm just cranky. Or maybe it's because it's been coming up on two months since I had a good one. Or maybe I just know what to expect... hell, I don't know. But this one did little to reverse the trend, though I freely admit it may have been partly my fault. This one came across as less fruity than I would have expected; it almost seemed dry. I should note I tried this at a family lunch and, having not had caffeine, I guzzled some Coke before the wine arrived. I thought I had adequately cleansed the palate, but that may not have been the case. Suffice it to say this wine didn't excite me either, but I'm willing to withhold judgment until I get a more reliable sampling. If I can find it on the east coast, great; if not, it may have to wait until summer when we return to Oregon.
Do-over? TBD
Final Grade: Incomplete