Category: Notes from the Future

Thanksgiving Wines: Terres Dorees Beaujolais Nouveau (for those who always want the new new thing)

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: I still love Beaujolais Nouveau! It never gets old. Well, it does, but if never sticks around long enough for that to happen.

Originally published on November 25, 2008.

Wine people love to hate on Beaujolais Nouveau. “It’s all marketing, it’s all plonk.” Well, everything is marketing, even anti-marketing is still a form of marketing (as reverse snobbery is still a form of snobbery), and yes, much of it is plonk. But it’s hard to resist the original intent of Beaujolais Nouveau – which is to enjoy the first wine of the harvest. Wine so fresh and new that just over a month earlier, it was still grapes on the vine. Even the plonky stuff makes me smile because it reminds me of when I first started drinking wine.

But this year, there is some really good Bojo on the market (technically, it’s Bojo Nuvo). Frankly Wines carries Terres Dorees by Jean-Paul Brun. Jean-Paul is one of winemakers in the Dressner portfolio, so you can read all about him here. His Bojo Nuvo is delicious and it’s just the thing for the Turkey Day table. Think about it – Thanksgiving is a celebration of the harvest. Beaujolias Nouveau is a celebration of the harvest. One’s a holiday, one’s a liquid, but basically, they’re the same thing. And it really doesn’t get newer than a wine that was just released last Thursday.

But don’t take my word for it….Mr. Asimov likes it too!

Thanksgiving Wines: Scholium Project (for the Adventurous without the Spanish accent)

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: The first skin contact sauvignon blanc that ever graced my shelves. And now, I have three on the shelves. One’s even sparkling. Oh, what a wild, wild wine world it’s become. (And yes, I did indeed drink this wine on that Thanksgiving Day. And it was delicious.)

Originally published on November 23, 2008

Scholium Project is one of those wineries that exists within the wine ether. I’m not sure where I first heard of Abe Schoener’s project, but I know it was well before the Eric Asimov’s NY Times piece this fall. Lucky for me, I can just point you to the NY Times piece as background…here, which I would rather do than reinvent the wheel.

While Mr Asimov’s piece gives good background on the overall project, I would rather just talk about one of the Scholium Project’s wine’s in the contact of turkey…

2006 Farina Vineyards the Prince in His Caves

This wine is everything you’re not supposed to do with Sauvignon Blanc: long fermentation, wild yeast, oak (some of it new, I think), skin contact. It should be absolutely horribly, but it’s not. It’s actually the perfect match for Thanksgiving. I think it even ranks above the LdH, which is pretty close to perfect. You get peaches…but not just peaches. Grilled peaches, with a bit of ginger spice. Enough weight to stand up to the side dishes, but not so heavy that it can’t play well with the turkey.

At just over $40, it’s not inexpensive, but it is the single best wine I can imagine for Thanksgiving. It’s what I’ll be pouring.

Thanksgiving Wines: Lopez de Heredia Rosado 1997 (for the adverturous)

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Many vintages later, this wine is extraordinarily allocated. Like “here’s your six bottles” allocated. Which is less allocated than some wines, but for those of us that remember when we could buy as much of this wine as we wanted, whenever we wanted it, this hurts. Sure, it’s cool to see a new generation of going gaga for this wine, but still, it hurts, just a little.

Originally published on November 21, 2008.

Imagine Thanksgiving dinner (the food, not your crazy uncle or your tispy cousin-three-times-removed)

The cranberry sauce, the turkey, the yams, the turkey, the stuffing, the turkey. It’s a wine-pairing nightmare. But this is the wine that can handle it all. Delicate enough to handle the turkey (which let’s face it, is pretty bland), a little fruit to deal with the cranberries and exotic enough to stand up to the stuffing, yams, and even pumpkin pie. It’s perfect.

But it’s not exactly your typical rosé – it has some of the tangy-ness you’ll find in a good fino sherry, only a hint of fruit, and lovely exotic spices like cardamom and ginger.

So if you’re intrigued and looking for a little adventure, track down a bottle and include it in your turkey day wine spread. You should be able to find it for less than $30 which may be a lot for a typical rosé, but not this rosé (which is from 1997!)

Put-In-Bay: Scenes from My Youth

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: I’m about to place an order for some catawba-based petnat. And it is indeed pink. And I have even made a plea to a friend (who in the words of Pat Dailey does indeed have a house on the island where I can probably stay if I ask) to track me down some organically grown catawba so I can attempt to make my own pink petnat. Oh hybrids, how far you’ve come!

Originally published on November 7, 2008 .

For reasons unknown, today’s The New York Times real estate section featured Put-in-Bay, Ohio in its “Havens” column. The title: “Key West of the Great Lakes”. My husband said that “Key West of the Midwest” would have been catchier, but apparently the Times knows that Ohio isn’t really the Midwest (especially after its blue showing in the most recent election.)

As the article notes, Put-in-Bay is a little village on South Bass Island in Lake Erie. People ride golf carts around the island and drink. A lot. Including wine from Lonz Winery, which is located a short boat ride away on Middle Bass Island. For those not willing to take the boat ride, there was the Heineman’s Winery Wine Garden were you could lounge at picnic tables and drink Pink Catawba, Concord Red, or Crystal Cave Champagne from little plastic cups. Sheer deliciousness!!

There is also the fabulous Chicken Patio Peanut Wagon where my friend Denise spent summers serving peanuts to drunkards on their way to the fabulous Round House. That dome is NOT part of the Peanut Wagon – it is the Round House.

For a taste of the Put-in-Bay music scene, have a listen to Pat Dailey’s “Put-in-Bay Gonna Have a Good Time“, not to be confused with his ever-popular “How Drunk Are We Gonna Get.” Both may revolve around drinking but they are completely different songs.

Georges Descombes – 5th member of the Gang of Four (and why that math makes sense)

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Descombes on the shelf for $20??? I could cry. Nah, no crying in Beaujolais. Just moving on to the next crop of growers – there still value to be found, you just need to keep your eyes peeled. (And honestly, Descombes at what it sells for today is still very much a decent value. Just maybe a bit less so than it was ten years ago.)

Originally published on October 11, 2008.

Last night, we poured the Georges Descombes Régnié 2007. Georges Descombes is the 5th member of the Morgan Gang of Four. Yes, my math is correct, there are 5 members in the Gang of Four. I will explain, but first you’ll have to endure a little Beaujolais education. Beaujolias = a region in France. Technically, it’s the southern-most part of the Burgundy region, but it really can stand as a region of its own. In most of Burgundy, the red wines are made from the Pinot Noir grape. In the Beaujolais, the red wines (and they are mainly red) are made from the Gamay grape.

Unfortunately, Beaujolais has a bit of an image problem – mainly among people who haven’t actually tried a good Beaujolais. When most people think of Beaujolias, they think of a wine that’s rooty-tooty-fresh-and-fruity and almost bubble-gummy. While these are actually good starter wines for people just moving beyond White Zinfandel (I drank it myself when I was just starting out), they don’t really give an indication as to what really good Beaujolais can do.

Starter wines aside, good Beaujolais is an ideal match for fall. It offers the perfect balance of fresh red fruits, dark, slate-y earthiness, and the zip of acidity that makes it perfect with food. The best Beaujolais come from ten specific villages within the broader region. These villages are referred to as “crus” and they have lovely French names like Brouilly, Fleurie, Chiroubles, Saint-Amore, Molin-a-Vent, and Morgon.

The village of Morgon is home to four vignerons (a French word that incorporates grape-growing and winemaking in a more holistic way than just saying viticulturalist/winemaker) who make fabulous, “serious” Beaujolais and practice natural* winemaking. (I’d say “benchmark” Beaujolais, but that goes against the spirit of what these wines are about.)

This Morgon Gang of Four includes Marcel Lapierre, Jean Foillard, Guy Breton, and Jean-Paul Thevenet (all imported by Kermit Lynch). But they aren’t the only vignerons in Morgon using natural winemaking techniques to make Beaujolias that stand heads and tails above anything else in the region….Georges Descombes is another. Since his wines are imported by Louis/Dressner, another importer, officially amending the Morgan Gang of Four to the Morgan Gang of Five probably isn’t going to happen.

But the wine we opened last night wasn’t even from Morgon – it was from the village of Régnié. But it was made by Descombes. And it was good.

Added bonus: it doesn’t actually say “Beaujolais” on the label, it just says “Régnié” and very few people know what that means. So people couldn’t turn up their noses before they tried it. And guess what, they liked it!

I’m not going to get into an actual tasting note (too much tying already), but if you’re interested, just out BrooklynGuys note on the 2006 here. Keep in mind he was drinking the 2006 about a year ago (@ $20/bottle). We have the 2007 at a few dollars more (damn euro!)

*”Natural” wine. “Real” wine. Whatever you call it, the Louis/Dressner gives an elegant description right here.

Wine Blogging Wednesday #50: The Great Outdoors

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Now that I have a shop up in Copake, in the middle of hiking territory, I’m much more well-versed in what to bring on a hike. These days, Tetrapaks don’t seem to be as widely available. But there are cans galore to choose from. Still wine in cans. Sparkling wine in cans. Spritzes. Pre-mixed drinks. Ciders. Ciders with spritz-type flavors. The list goes on and one. And here’s a pro tip (from a hiking pro, which would not be me… I’m still not much of a hiker) – chose your favorite wine in a box – and remove the box. The bag with it’s handy spigot will travel just fine.

Originally published on October 7, 2008.

This week’s host is Russ Beebe, whose blog is Winehiker Witiculture. Fittingly for a Winehiker, the theme revolves around what wine you would pour in the great outdoors.

Now first, I don’t hike. I don’t even own sneakers, or hikers, or whatever you’re supposed to hike in. My husband and some friends used to go on a big hiking every year and I would always come up with a reason I couldn’t go. Finally. they just stopped inviting me…even my husband stopped inviting me.

Lack of hiking gear aside, I do know just what I would pour. It would be the Yellow + Blue Malbec from Argentina. Why? Well, it’s yummy. But aside from that, it comes in a tetrapak, so it’s light – much lighter than a bottle. And while I may not hike, I know hikers like to keep their packs as light as possible.

Full disclosure: I probably won’t have thought of this on my own (hiking is really that foreign of a concept to me), but a customer was just in the store last weekend, going on a hike, and she picked up 3 of these little liters for her trip.

Kindergarten Crazies

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: The kindergartner mentioned above is … wait for it…. applying to colleges!!!! (1.23.2022)

Originally published on August 31, 2008.

Labor Day weekend is almost over and Fall is just around the corner. It’s almost OND! (October, November, December – the time of year when most wine stores actually make their money.) Time to start thinking about programming for cooler weather, for Thanksgiving, bubbles for the holidays, maybe some corporate gift programs.

OR

TIME TO START THINKING ABOUT KINDERGARTEN!

Because this is New York City and even the sanest person can get a little crazy with the whole application process. For those of you outside of the Boroughs, yes, applications, for KINDERGARTEN!! Real thought must go into selecting the place where your juniors will hang out all day, slinging paint, eating crayons, and refusing to eat tasty school lunches. Actually, selecting the places where you hope the junior will get to hang out, because here in New York City, they also get to select you.

Oh well, it’s a good excuse to drink more wine…

You know how to spit, don’t you?….

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: I nearly spit out my coffee as I read this post. Because just yesterday I was re-reading Alice’s book, the very scene that describes spitting. And was I musing over the ridiculousness that every wine book requires such a scene? No I was not. I was wondering, “Hmmmmm…. how would I write about this myself?” So I have either become ridiculous, or there really is something so universally weird about learning how to spit wine that it does warrant a scene in every wine book. (And yes, “both” is a perfectly acceptable answer.)

Originally published on August 25, 2008.

….you just put your lips together and…no no no, that’s whistling. Spitting is a completely different matter – and apparently interesting enough to merit special mention in almost every wine memoir ever written.

I noticed this while working through this summer’s crop of wine-related books. In Reflections of a Wine Merchant, Neal Rosenthal devotes a full paragraph to the etiquette of spitting. Good aim, flair, and self-confidence are good. Drooling, dribbling, and barrel splattering are bad. In The Battle for Wine and Love, Alice Feiring remembers her first time time – especially the backsplash on her glasses.

I dug out a few older books and sure enough, in Red, White, and Drunk All Over, Natalie MacLean goes into great anatomical detail as to the mechanics (seems you can’t just put your lips together and blow). And in Bacchus & Me, Jay McInerney recalls the strangeness of tasting wine without swallowing during an interview with Helen Turely, his first as a newly-minted wine writer.

Apparently, if you write a book about wine, you must have well-defined opinions and memories about spitting. And here, I thought it was something you just did to keep from getting drunk.

Wine Blogging Wednesday #48: Hermann J. Wiemer Riesling

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Full disclosure… it’s almost certainly the Semi-Dry bottling that I was writing about, not the Dry bottling. And I’m laughing at my note that I probably wouldn’t order it again. I have, often, both Dry and Semi-Dry, and love them and love that people love them. I get antsy when at least one of them isn’t on the shelf at Copake Wine Works. I’m also laughing about my craving for “mind-numbing” acidity. These days, I often find myself bemoaning it as fashion and craving at least a bit of sugar. Oh dry bird of youth….

Originally published on August 22, 2o08.

Just a little over a week late…

The theme for this WBW was “Back to Your Roots” – the idea being to go back to one of the first wines that made some sort of impact on our wine-drinking selves. Although they were the first wines that actually touched my lips, I’m skipping the J Roget sparkling ‘champagne’ and Sutter Home White Zinfandel and going straight to Hermann J. Wiemer Dry Riesling.

The Wiemer winery is located in New York’s Finger Lakes region, which is also home to Cornell University, where I went to school. I wasn’t in the Hotel School, but my senior year, I took the school’s Intro to Wines class. This was an intimate wine education course for 500 – 800 people. It was a model of logistical efficiency – imagine the complexities required to get tasting-sized portions of 5 – 7 wines to an auditorium filled with thirsty college students.

The first tasting session focued on Cornell’s backyard – the Finger Lakes wineries. Since it gets cold there, the region is best suited to the same grapes you’ll find in Germany or Alsace – espeically Riesling. This was a lucky twist of geography because the Riesling is an easy grape to love, especially the trademark Finger Lakes style of that time (early 90’s) which was dry, but not too dry. It was the perfect first step into the ‘real world’ of wine beyond White Zinfandel and J. Roget sparkling ‘champagne’.

The Wiemer Riesling was one of the wines we tried that first class and the wine store just off campus wisely displayed bottles of it which many of us picked up on the way home. I introduced my friends to the wine and it was a confidence booster to see that they liked it as well. It felt like proof that wine didn’t have to be a scary, snob-ridden thing. The Wiemer not only introduced me to the world of wine-beyond-blush, but it also introduced me to the joy of sharing and introducing that world to others.

So the Wiemer was the wine I had in mind for this WBW. Of course I didn’t get my act together and the Wendesday passed without notice. But that Saturday I was at Terrior, leafing through their Summer of Riesling list….and there it was….the Hermann J. Wiemer Dry Riesling 2006!

So how did it taste? Like the really easy to love starter wine I remember it as. It didn’t have the mind-numbing acidity that I now tend to look for in my dry Rieslings. Nor did it have the precise balance of sweetness and tartness you find in the best sweet German Rieslings. But it was nice – notes of lime, minerality, hints of honey, enough sweetness to please a neophite wino’s sweet tooth balanced by enough acidity to raise the experience up a notch or two on the sophistication scale.

Would I order it again? 15 years into my (legal) wine drinking career, probably not…my palate has evolved and I like my Rieslings styled a little bit differently. Would I bring it into the store and recommend it to those just starting to get into wine? Probably. After all, you need to start somewhere!

This Week’s 3-Pack…..

Originally published on August 7, 2008.

A NOTE FROM THE FUTURE: Over 10 year later and we’re still selling these wines up at Copake Wine Works. I walked in one weekend and there they were, on the shelf. Celene, my trusty manager who traveled up to the wilds of the Berkshires from Tribeca had tried them, liked them and added the to a recent order. Now she had never tried them back at the old store – they had left the market, or we had lost track of the distributor, or any of a million things that result in a wine disappearing from the shelves. But tasty wine at a good price (and yes, a cute bottle) will find a way to those who are always searching. Even if they are located way up in Copake!

….IS A 2-PACK!

Funky-looking bottles. Funky blends from a funny, little-known region of France. Lots of interesting facts for the wine-geeks among you, but for those just interested in good juice, this fits the bill.

Producer: J. MOURAT PERE & FILS – Father and son team, practicing organic.

Region: FIEF VENDEENS MAREUIL – An obscure region within France’s Loire Valley, near the Atlantic Ocean (“only a handful of minutes away” to quote the lovely translation on their web site). The region is part of the equally obscure VDQS classification. VDQS basically stands for “wine classified as superior quality”. It’s always mentioned in the the more academic (some would say pedantic) wine tasting courses out there, but rarely do you see it in real life – until NOW!

J Mourat ‘Collection’ Rouge: A blend of Pinot Noir, Cabernet Franc, and Negrette. (This is the definition of funky.) Soft red fruits from the Piont Noir, a litle bit of garden-fresh earthiness from the Cab Franc, and some extra structure from the Negrette. What, never heard of the Negrette grape? Neither had I until the day I bought this wine. And on that very day, I tried two different wines which had Negrette in the blend. This one, as well as one from Greece. Perhaps it’s the start of a trend?

J Mourat ‘Collection’ Blanc: A blend of Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc. (We did say ‘funky’.) I don’t know if it’s a rule, but both whites I’ve tried from this region were a blend of Chardonnay and Chenin Blanc. The Chenin Blanc gives the wine a crisp, almost racy acidity, citrus peel notes, and some minerality. All that raciness is balanced by the fuller Chardonnay which also adds a little hint of pear. It’s an odd combination but it works.