AnimaMundi

Summer Quaffs

Since the summer here in the great Northeast has been so damn hot, we have been drinking more rose and white wine. These are some of our favorites to date.

WHITES

2006 Vesevo Greco Di Tufo ($17): ancient name for Vesuvio, excellent minerality and acidity coupled with depth and an elegant finish. The 2006 Vinosia Greco Di Tufo ($25ish) did not have the acidic edge that the Vesevo had. I found it to be a little lackluster.

2007  Le Petit Chambord Cheverny Loire ($15): edgey tangy acidity, bright, clean, vibrant

2007 Le Fournier Sauvignon ($10): very good value, crisp, good acidity, fresh

2004 Pazo de Monterrey ($14): excellent QPR Spanish wine with good acidity, clean, sharp lines, rounded fruit

ROSE

2007 Chateau du Rouet Cotes de Provence ($14): dry, crisp accented acidity, balanced

2007 Les Lauzeraies Tavel ($11): full, dry, good acidity, good QPR

As for sparklers, I'll try to list some later. Peter Laurent Rose Champagne ($30) is the standout so far.

I Was Told There Would Be Cake or Money Ain't Getting Any Cheaper

When I mentioned the cost of living to my next door neighbor the other day he replied, "Oh, it's not as bad they make it out to be." There are four people in his family and they own five cars including one brand new Honda truck, a six cylinder that gets about 15 miles a gallon. He just downsized from an 8 cylinder truck that guzzled 15 gallons per mile.

Hummers, bummers, summers, gas fillups,

oil bills, AC bills, groceries, outrageously expensive super-duper cult wines 

and just about everything else. On a brighter note, we have a gift certificate to John Andrews on Saturday night. Santa paid for the gift certificate. K. has been in high intensity knee pain for a while and she needs it, badly. We will drive to New Lebanon first to meet up with friends and admire their gardens. They have expended lots of money and sweat tilling the earth. I'll take pictures. I promise. Their gardens make our yard look like desolation row. In driving there and back, we'll probably spend more money on gasoline than on the meal. From New Lebanon to South Egremont we'll ride in their new Mini Cooper club car.

Things have changed dramatically, but the average American does not want to admit it. They have been accustomed to a certain standard of living that they refuse to concede. This attitude is part of the reason that we are where we are today. It's a persistently arrogant image and I don't particularly like it.

"To knock a thing down, especially if it is cocked at an arrogant angle, is a deep delight of the blood."
  - George Santayna

Paging pathology, please. It's not all gloom and doom. But remember those Sunday afternoon drives in the country?

Up a similar avenue, my friend Alfonso has some car and consumption images for you and his thoughts on the situation as it affects vino Italiano.

How about an Italian wine that doesn’t suck all the spare change out of the glove compartment, something we can drive around our dining rooms and still be able to put pasta and salad on the table as well?

This 5 year old Spanish red, one year in oak, from Don Quixote land is one of those wines that reaffirm my faith in decent wine at a fair price. A great wine, no. A good QPR wine @ ten bux before case discount, yes.

After all, it is a dog's life.

Italian Wine Guy Intervision

Beatrice Russo, a formidable writer in her own right, interviews Alfonso Cevola in Texas hill country. I wish he would write some memoires/essays/ruminations/fantasias on wine and life. I'm sure that a book about a winemaker would also be a fascinating read, but, but...

Fanfare For The Common Man

Guest blogger, Beatrice Russo, lets the suits in suites have it over at Alfonso "On The Italian Wine" Cevola's blogspot. Excellent piece of writing about a weighty topic.

It's Called Dirt in Texas

CSW, no not certified Social Worker, Signore Cevola had a long day in the Texas sun. He earned his reward as did the others who wrapped up that vineyard. I have to give it up to him. He has a uncanny stamina that I could never approach.

Dancing Spiders and Down With Dogma

My mouth is dry. I think it all started with the still from "8½". Looking down from the tethered foot over the shore. In the documentary, Fellini: I'm A Born Liar, he talks about spontaneity and the ability to directly express oneself. Interestingly, the maestro refers to this as a type of religious experience; this direct spontaneous expression. This vitality is the touchstone of art for him. It is fascinating to listen to him talk of his ability to play with the stuff of neurosis-psychosis by using them as props on the set of life. The sedated Roberto Benigni on Fellini: "He's like a magician, a paesano who takes you by the hand and leads you to the edge of the abyss so that you can look into it!" I ordered the DVD since I don't have Tivo and only saw the last half of it. Which leads me to another Italian phenomena, the Tarantella. I have 16mm film transferred to dvd that my father took of my Uncle George doing the tarantella at my grandmother's house after a wedding. His movements are graceful and dramatic, his coal-black hair glistening in the light of the small kitchen.

I can always conjure up him dancing in that kitchen where so many good times were had over so many good meals. Afterall, it was the Christmas Eve kitchen.

Aside: In one of the Marx Brothers films, after Chico plays a song on the piano, Groucho asks him if he could play something allegro pizzicata. "You do know allegro pizzicata?" asks Groucho.  Chico answers, "Sure. I know all the Pizzicata's. Jimmy, Tony..."

Which all logically leads to my friend Alfonso's recent post. You can tell the heat and humidity have really kicked in from the tenor of his latest posts. They contain a heightened element of sun-dazed fantasia. This is a good thing since he is excellent at confabulation to begin with. These additional heat-driven bass notes and overtones weave a tapestry of words and images that are not only fun to read but leave one curious for more. So, Alfonso is bitten by a number of spiders in the heat of the Texas night and this is what happens. "...every sip of wine that isn't Riesling-with-lamb is wasted" and someone's mixing up the medicine in the basement. Ooo la la.

"Tarantella"  by Shai Bachar

Si signore

Sea Turns, Interns & Avatars

Alfonso, you know that Italian Wine Guy from deep in the heart of Texas, is makin' some good noise. After over a quarter of a century plus in the wine business, he senses a sea turn in increased receptivity to Italian wines. Even though this country imports about 33% of all Italian wine exports, it is still a hard sell in many parts of the land of the free. When was the last time you went into a restaurant and saw a wine list like this? The list is from Catalan in Houston. This might seem intimidating to some, but to wine lovers it is a rich palette that can used in concert with the variety of food one can savor. These signs from flyover country, as our seersucker-clad wine loving friend likes to call it, are good indicators for the future despite the Euro-Dollar-Oil tripple whammy. So, in his quest to bring more Italian wines to more people's palates in the great US of A, Alfonso is searching for the right type of intern-avatar to bring this message in a bottle home. Vamp or Nerd? Maybe you can help him decide.

In The Soup

The heat has struck. We are chilling Provencal rose and whites. Many years ago I read Victor Hazan's "Italian Wine". At the time, I knew nothing about wine, but I knew what I liked. Victor's wife Marcella is the person credited with introducing balsamic vinegar to this country. She later regretted its omnipresence in American cuisine. Paging Sherry vinegar. Mr. Hazan's outdated book only addresses red Italian wines. He said that he would not write about Italian white wines since he didn't consider Italian white wines worthy of the time that he gave to the mighty reds of ancient Enotria. I believe old Victor might eat those words today. I too am partially guilty of the red wine prejudice. When I first started drinking wine it was Mateus, May wine, Lambrusco. I was raised on Coke and Pepsi. So it's not surprising that sweet wines were and still are appealing to my palate. From Lambrusco I landed in California, i.e. Chardonnay, faux Chenin Blanc, limp Sauvignon Blanc. Butterland whites with oak to spare, minimal acidity, dead-on-your-palate wines. I then discovered white Burgundy and it was refreshing for my palate to educate me out of the darkness of what passed for white wine from California. For me, white Burgundy has a purity that California can't match. I still have a soft spot for white Burgundy. Backing up a bit, in the mid-70's, I met a woman at work whose family hailed from the rugged Abruzzo region of Italy. We became friends and she introduced us to home cooking that we had never experienced before. She was/is enamored of the French style and even considered moving to Provence at one time. She made dacquoise once for my birthday. It was a revelation. She also prepared Italian feasts that were extraordinary. Homemade pizza and roasted homemade sausage with roasted peppers, all with an Abruzzese twist. She and her husband encouraged us to visit Italy. We opted for Sicily for our first trip. It couldn't have been a better choice. While there we drank Etna rosato during the hot nights that oozed jasmine and laughter. As I sit in the continental humidity of upstate NY, I recall the bountiful buffeta rustica, the chill of those Etna rosatos and the sweet night air of Sicily. Back to the wine trail. In the late 80's, I had a red wine conversion. It was not a St. Paul of Tarsus type conversion. Mine was more gradual, but nonetheless a 180 degree one. It took the form of a humble Rioja coupled with grilled lamb. Within a short time, I started to try all kinds of reds from Spain, Italy and France. I also stopped drinking whites, almost totally. Even in the dead heat of summer, I would drink reds, shunning whites and only conceding an occasional Provencal rose. In the past few years, I have begun slowly to return to white wines. In addition to Burgundy, there are many fine whites from Italy, Spain, Germany, Alsace, The Loire, New Zealand, California. But I still find it difficult to pull the trigger for a $25 white wine. My red wine eye is still coloring my perception. I know it and have to try to temper my prejudice. Maybe the heat and humidity will help sway me.

Cheap Wine Expensive Food

It is Conde Nast and they mention Bruni breaking the news that the American peso ain't what it used to be. The first comment says it all:

"Wine quality" does not vary inversely with price as you posit. I prove it thus: 1. Point scores from Parker correlate highly positively with price; 2. Parker's ratings are considered quite accurate by experts and non-experts. Therefore, since quality and Parker point scores correlate positively, so must quality and price.

T-Bone Memorial Day and Duval-Leroy

The best part of Memorial Day was the day after. We had Duval-Leroy chillin' and a T-Bone marajunatin'. We started the day with doppio cappuccinos. Things looked pretty good. The neighborhood was real quiet which is a rarity. It's usually a few screaming children, barking psychotic dogs, internal combustion engines i.e. mowers, more mowers, weed wackers, leaf blowers, chain saws, rototillers. Gas @$4+ a gallon and people are still fertilizing their lawns and mowing a lot more than they have to. Hey folks, fertilizer is also petrochemically based, but that doesn't phase 'em. Who's crazy? Who said humanity is basically ignorant and stubbornly blind? I kid you not. We saw this together. Our neighbor 2 houses over mowed his huge lawn plus an adjacent vacant lot, not owned by him, on Saturday and then he mowed it again yesterday! He has a sit down that is probably 10-15 horsepower. Update, K. says that he mowed again today. God, help us. Suburbia.

At about 2 pm, my stomach started to get a little weird. My allergies haven't been wonderful either and I wonder if there is a connection. Then I started to throw up everything, which was not much. A biscotti, yogurt, peaches, honey. Ah, and cappuccino. I was a mess for 6 hours. The stomach pain was a delight and nothing I took touched it. I finally took two Tylenol PM and the pain eased up. This is the second time that this has happened and I guess that I should consult the good doctor. I slept until 7 a.m., thankful for no pain when I awoke. In the meantime, I think I should have something with a doppio, like a few cannoli or bag of sfogliatelle. I did manage to raise my glass of Champagne to a friend, but will try again tonight with more gusto.

Buon Lavoro

I got my few minutes of fame a few weeks ago Uncle Alfonso, but today you hit 'em out da' park! You are like me, bull dogged. You give it all you got. You dig in and stand up. I am a bulldog born in the sign of Taurus so I am a bulldog cubed, i.e. sorta like bulldoggedness on steroids. Like you, I'm into the search for the authentic, however mine mainly is confined to the backyard and down the road a piece.

P.S. Uncle Alfonso, I can dance even though I don't have any hip joints. This is who I was named after.

Seersucker Redux

This is very good news. Alfonso Cevola's blog "On The Italian Wine Trail" has been selected blog of the day by Google/Blogger! He owes it all to vino and seersucker.

Seer or Sucker, You Tell Me

Up North it's the last Monday in May, down South it's after Easter. These are the officially approved dates for wearing seersucker. In 1907, a New Orleans clothier made summer wear more comfortable by designing a light-weight suit in pale blue and white striped rumpled cotton fabric. He named that fabric “seersucker,” from Persian words meaning “milk and sugar.” My good friend Alfonso who happens to live in the frying pan of this country, i.e. Dallas Texas, was kind of enough to help us Northeners to prepare for the upcoming seersucker season by suggesting certain wines for various colors and styles of seersucker. As a musical lagniappe, his always apt wine suggestions are accompanied by Steve Miller lyrics. I first caught The Steve Miller Blues Band at The Fillmore West in San Francisco in 1967 and he blew the house away. I believe Gabor Szabo was also on the bill that night in July. But it was The Electric Flag that drew me since I didn't know of the previous two artists at the time. 3 groups $3. I can actually remember some things from that infamous decade. This is what I missed the following month:

From the Fillmore website: A sample month of shows Bill Graham presented at The Fillmore, August of 1967: Aug. 1-6: Muddy Waters, Buffalo Springfield, Richie Havens. Aug. 8-13: Electric Flag, with Moby Grape and Steve Miller Blues Band. Aug. 15-17: Chuck Berry and Charles Lloyd Quartet, with Steve Miller Blues Band opening. Aug. 18-19: Young Rascals and Charles Lloyd Quartet. Aug. 20-21: Count Basie Orchestra with Charles Lloyd Quartet. Aug. 22-27: Butterfield Blues Band and Cream. Aug. 29-31: Cream, Electric Flag, Gary Burton.

See, Alfonso knows what buttons to push. Wine, women, song and seersucker. He has the knack; that guy with the big Luca Brazzi hands.

Ancora Una Volta

Robert Mondavi dies at 94. At least he and his brother made wine together again before he died.

Update: A Perry Daniel just e-mailed me. It appears that the late Robert Mondavi, philanthropist and Christian that he was, left me $31.5 million. The only way I know to than the late great California winemaker is to use some of this money to buy wines that I have never been able to afford. Of course, I am not going high-end-status-cult-list-only-limited production-extremely-low-yield-per hectare-lifestyle-wines exclusively. I plan to roam Europe like a Lynch or Cevola and seek out those small producers who are making earthy miraculous wines with backbone and rusticity. I'll mainly be in Sicily, Calabria, Languedoc-Roussillon, the southern Rhone, on the plain in Spain and the Douro, Dao and Alentejo in Portugal. Thank you Robert Mondavi for your generosity. I will always drink to your spirit.

Francesco Gorshino

Some of the elders and their Gucci heirs are slackers. What with all the flurry of wine feathers over what not, BK of Piled High in Tejas had the solution a while back. The Riddler.

San Giovanni and Brunello

It seems that the Brunello scandal is still brewing. Brunello is a clone made from 100% Sangiovese, the main grape of Chianti fame. Being a neophyte, I was under the impression that Brunello's history had a longer trail. Not so. The current industry has its roots in the 1960's. What I do know is that Brunello di Montalcino has a certain cache and is one of the most expensive Italian red wines. Most of the market is in the United States. Brunellopoli and in purezza is not really a new story. The rumors of other varietals in the mix have been around for years. So why now? Who knows. This is not good for the Italian wine industry in general. The producers, five in all, are mostly major concerns. Unfortunately, the whole brooha comes at a time when the prices of all European wines have experienced a big uptick. If you are going to charge outlandish prices for a bottle of wine, at least insure that it is in purezza.

History and holy sources are not to be ignored. When matters get this bad, the Italian winemakers should take heed and have a talk with the gods that are in charge.

Jeremy Parzen clears up some of the misinformation being spread in the wake of the Brunello controversy.

De-Vino Wine Boutique

Gabrio Tosti at De-Vino Wine Boutique knows his wines. He is also ready to argue about the essence of quality, crazy consumerism and the American bias toward mediocrity among other topics. His focus is mainly Italian wines, though he does carry wines from other parts of the world. Last night we had the pleasure of drinking a 2004 Valle dell'Acate Cerasuolo di Vittoria that I purchased at his store last week. This wine comes from an area southwest of Siracusa in Sicily. It is know for its high quality fruits and wine. The DOC of Vittoria has recently seen an influx of wine producers mining the motherlode of this region. This Cerasuolo is one of the best that I have had to date. The unique timbre of this wine is very appealing and possesses an acidic spark that makes your taste buds sit up. I can also recommend the same winery's Il Moro Nero d'Avola, a dark brooding concentrated quaff. Pay a visit to Gabrio's shop. He is engaging and his wines are well selected.

Sagana

Cusamano's 2005 Sagana is a very good example of a Sicilian red that is somehow not baked into submission by the venerable Sicilian summer sun. The vines, clinging low to the torrid soil, gather their nutrients from the ferocious summer sun of the island that burns most greenery into a withered pale brunello. This wine is a dark morello cherry purple triumph over the legendary sun and lack of moisture. It is somewhat of a miracle, as are most Sicilian wines. If you have been to the island in late September, you know what I mean. Days upon days of limitless blue. Not a cloud, unless you are near the puffs of condensed cotton over Etna. Sun on sun on land, parched and begging for rain. In late September, a sunrise in Sicily is followed almost immediately by heat. The sea seems to roil in constant haze. A wine waiting for the summer rains that start at the end of September. The Sagana bears all of this alchemical tension within it and much more. It offers its mysterious essence to you from a blessedly sun burnt and fertile land. With an understated nobility, it is like Lampedusa describing his family's home in Palermo after it was decimated by American bombers during WWII. He called it his home, not a palazzo. The Cusamano people are not fooling around. They are producing wines that evoke images that hug the land and speak from the island's bedrock. When a wine can do this the winemakers are artists working in consort with our Mother, Nature. Ancient strains and notes from a volcanic land distilled in a liquid made from the earth and sun and air and water.

P.S. Thanks to my friend Alfonso Cevola who tells me that "sagana" in Sicilian means "a hidden supply reserved for only for close friends or family". Now I know why they chose this name for the wine.   

Under Alba

The commune of Alba is the wine center of the Piemonte wine province. A very large percentage of DOC Italian wines are produced here. Under the streets of Alba is the renowned Pio Cesare winery. Alfonso, On The Wine Trail in Italy, takes you through the Pio Cesare winery. It's pretty remarkable that all this exists unseen beneath the streets of Alba. Speaking of old pitchers, I swore, to whom I forget, that Alfonso told me that he was bringing me back a case of 1997 Pio Cesare Barolo Ornato. It must be that he just has neglected to mention the sacred wine to me after making it alive through the week that was. Or maybe it's still in transit. Italians are on a different meridian. Eco turf: post the Prime Meridian. Although, he could have mentioned it to me and I could have forgotten that he mentioned it. Highly unlikely. Pio Cesare 1997 Barolo Ornato, non.   

The Glitter and Glamour

In the myopic vision of most people, wine salesmen and educators have it pretty good. They get to travel around the country and internationally, meet all sorts of unique characters, drink fine wines, dine on luscious food. But the perks come at a high price. There are a lot of grueling hours of schlepping, driving,  preparing etc. that in no way resemble the pleasures and perks of the high notes. Alfonso On-The-Italian-Wine-Trail Cevola recounts his last trip to Vinitaly and the following week from hell back in the USA. NB Reading this post causes extreme exhaustion

Grillo From Mozia

In 2000, I visited the small island of Mozia just off the coast of Sicily between Marsala and Trapani. You can walk if the tide is low. It is a strange place with bare traces of substantial Phoenician and Carthaginian settlements long since laid to waste by Dionysius The Elder in 379 B.C. The ghosts of the sacrificed and those slaughtered by the Greeks were palpable. Maybe it was the wind. When wandering the numerous paths on the little island, I noticed some grapevines. So, it was with surprise that I read about a wine made from those grapes. Thanks to the honorable Dionysius of the vine and sprezzatura, Alfonso-On The Italian Wine Trail-Cevola discovered a Grillo white wine there that took him back 20 years.

1998 Ceuso Custera

This elusive, at least to me, Sicilian red wine has earned a reputation and for good reason. The first time I came across it was when I worked a few hours a week in a local wine shop. That was 8+ years ago. The limited stock was gone before I had a chance to taste it. The next time I spotted it was in NYC a few years back. Again, I held back because of the price of a bottle. However, when I came across it a third time in a shop in Great Barrington, MA last week, the charm made me pull the trigger. The Ceuso estate is on the slopes of the temple of Segesta, a secluded spot even though the Autostrada is close by thanks to the Sicilian highway authorities. My father's father lived his simple fisherman life in nearby Drepanon, the "sickle". One version of the myth states that the sickle fell from the hands of Demeter while she was hunting for her daughter Persephone abducted by Hades. This part of the island was originally settled by the Elymians who erected the famous temple here. The amphitheater sits high on a winding road above the dark green pines of the valley where the temple is unobstrusively situated melding with the landscape. The majestic view of the sea from the theater is cradled between mountain tops. Luckily we got there before the buses.

I decanted the wine for an hour or so. The color is a deep dark black-purple. The nose upon decanting was subtle and reassuring. It sang to me from some ancient well. Maybe the land and its wine tells some of the story of the ancient Elymians and their Carthaginian friends and Greek enemies. I smelled aged depth and solace. I then tasted and smelled blackberries, candied cherries, a hint of cedar. The finish was long, extremely smooth, lingering with fruit, tinged with vanilla oak. Clearly this wine would evolve as it opened up. Tonight we will check in on its reaction to air and light. The Custera proved to be very expansive and has retained a backbone of finesse and balance. The wine was created with the intention of appealing both to traditionalists and those who favor a more international style, thus the addition of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. From what we tasted, I think the blend has aged very well keeping its integrity centered. We had a grilled marinated pork loin with it. Coincidentally, we had some Sicilian blood oranges whose peel and juice went into the marinade, along with sherry, soy, paprika, saffron and olive oil. I boiled down the marinade and reduced it by half. The Custera stood up well to the sweet pork and big marinade flavors. A noble honest wine that evokes the hills and pines around Segesta, one of the most intriguing settings on the island. An ancient call echoing from a sacred site, with more than a whiff of mysterious origins and forgotten tongues.

2008 American Wine Blog Awards Recount

The 2008 American Wine Blog Awards have been announced. However, there has been a call for a recount. There seems to be have been some irregularities in the voting. The voting of the judges appears to be on the up and up, but it is the voting of the public, 70% of the vote, that has been called into question. It seems that people voted more than once using spurious names while casting multiple votes. Are those ground ballot stubs mixed in with that 20 year old Sarmassa Barolo? Some bloggers who were not nominated for any categories were not only disappointed, but somewhat mortified. The wine blogosphere is a very unique one in this vast web of internets. There are endless discussions of points vs non-points. What's the point? There is one site that has a photograph to convey their impressions of a wine. Instead of endless adjectives like pencil lead, asphalt, chicken poop, crushed stone, squirrel fur, clinker, old Life Magazines, these ingenious folks short circuit that baffling lexicon with a visual image. They won best graphics and deserve it. The awards singled out some excellent wine blogs, like Vinography for Best Blog Writing and Good Wine Under $20 for Best Single Subject Blog. As a neophyte, I have come to learn that people can get quite testy over their view of mother nature's product of the vine. The heated arguments often get in the way of, uh, enjoying the wine and food. Another topic that is endlessly dissected is natural versus humanly manipulated wines. Yes, there is a human factor and that should be minimal. Sometimes the wine makes itself, but by and large human beings tweak wines. Believe it or not, most human beings are part of nature, estranged though they may be from the Great Mother's source. Get over it. Some people are named Pope and are therefore 96-points-infallible. Others are called Czarinas, much to the chagrin of certain well intentioned people. The road to Dante's Pizzeria is not paved with a sea of Brunello. 

So, the recount is on. What with the looming Italian wine industry miasma and the questionable voting in the Wine Blog Awards, all bets are off. Who can one trust anymore? Those selling the wine, those writing about selling the wine, those writing about those writing about wine, those writing about subjectivity and/or objectivity in tasting wine, those writing about the wine as it comes from the earth gently coaxed by the artist's hands or, just maybe, trust the wine itself. Eco would have much fun in this arena.

Tom Wark of Fermentation is a honest poker player. He will sort all this out, that is, if there was any funny bizness to begin with. 'A basta.

The 1st of the cruellest month!

 

Sfinciuni di San Vito

Carlo Middione's "The Food of Southern Italy" is a well written thoroughly researched cook book. It is loaded with many helpful tips and anecdoctal historical facts that make for great reading. The recipes are simple and flavorful. It is the sun drenched food of Southern Italy. In the book is a recipe for Sfinciuni di San Vito, a Sicilian type of pizza that has a filling between two layers of dough. The filling is made up of some sauteed onion, salami (I used a decent commercial imported soppressata thinly sliced into strips), cubed caciocavallo cheese, black pepper, hot red pepper flakes and some marinara sauce. The first layer of dough is placed in a oiled 9" cake pan or another other round pan. The filling is spread over the dough and topped with the second layer of dough that is drizzled on top with olive oil. Set in a 400 degree oven for a half hour and turnover onto a plate. NB The next time roll out the bottom dough as well as the top, stupid. The wine we had was a 2006 Cusamano Benuara ($17 pre-discount) that is mostly Nero d'Avola with some Syrah. It is one of the better Sicilian reds at this price point. I believe it garnered a tre bichere recently. It was a great match for the sfinciuni, a wine with gripping acidity, backbone strength, ample fruit that finishes smoothly, yet assertively at the same time. It has a glass stopper so watch for that when you reach for the cork screw.

Where Have You Gone, Brunello?

Italian Brunello di Montalcino is one of the country's most famous and dear wines. It is supposedly made from Sangiovese grapes, "the blood of Jove". In 1986, there was an embarrassing incident involving major producers and irregularities. That cost the Italian wine industry plenty. Now it seems there are some nagging irregularities surfacing once again. (Permalinks not set yet at this excellent new site, so read back through the March posts starting on March 10th.) It is claimed that not-so-dear red wine from Puglia has been finding its way into bottles of precious bottles of this nectar of the kings, queens and popes. Brunello is in a spot. Wine lovers want the pure nectar not some overmatriculated Sangiovese posing like it were some garagista on vacation in Tuscany. She was our Holy Grail, our Mother, our Source and our Saving Grace. She was our sister, our aunt, the girl next door, our first love. She was the quintessential red wine from Italy and we had been led astray with so many Shiraz’s and Malbec’s and Bonarda’s and Zinfandel’s.
 

That Moment of The Day and Reflections on the Wine Industry

Toni Morrison's essay about cooking out:

"The day moved then into its splendid parts: a ham, fried-potatoes, scrambled-egg, breakfast in the morning air; fried fish and pan-cooked biscuits on the hind side of noon, and by the time Mama - who had never heard of Gerber’s – was grinding a piece of supper ham with her own teeth to slip into the baby’s mouth, and the Blue Gums had unveiled their incredible peach cobbler, the first stars were glittering through the blue light of Turkeyfoot Lake.

We were all there, All of us, bound by something we could not name. Cooking, honey, cooking under the stars."

The Good Grape offers 25 things that he learned while in the wine business. As for #13, when in San Francisco last May we always replied to "where are you from?" with "New York". It was assumed that we were from the City and we never offered further geographical latitudinal clarification. There wasn't enough time. We were there only 5 days. #18 is not a good thing for people like me, i.e. people who would like good QPR wine that they can't obtain anywhere else delivered to their door. To # 21, I would add that most of the restaurants in the major cities of this country would be up the same narrow creek. Napa, Napa, Napa, but #23 says the mojo is elsewhere.

Lamb and The Vine

Easter dinner was marinated Moorish style lamb chops grilled over charcoal, roasted garlic mashed russets with olive oil and a bit of grated Argentinian Parmesan & Pecorino and sauteed zucchini. I have started to prune the grape vines and keep all the clippings to later use on the charcoal grill. I forget to save olive pits. These are also good on charcoal for added flavor. For vino we had a 2004 Salanques Priorat. I think we should have cellared this wine for another few years, mainly because of the Cabernet Sauvignon in the blend. It was somewhat tight at first but did open up as it aired. It is very concentrated and centered with plenty of grip in the middle. The depth of the wine was impressive as was the silky texture in the mouth. Eric Solomon gives Jorge Ordonez a run for his money. We also had a 2005 Ridge Ponzo. Ridge never disappoints. They reflect the personality of the the winery. The wines are always straight forward and accessible. From the label to the disdain for cult status, Ridge is a solid Gibraltar in California. 

Fooled Again, But Relax Max

Spoofulation is a constant topic, read dead horse, of conversation in the wine world. It means different things to different folks. Via The Wine Camp Blog an excellent piece at Appellation America with a natural winemaking list from Appellation Feiring:

*Wines made from grapes planted on interesting soils and climates, not farmed chemically, irrigated or picked at over ripeness.
* No added yeast or nutrients.
* No enzymes
* No bacteria
* No added tannin
* No added chemicals
* No wood ‘product’ (wood is used for élevage, NOT for flavor)
* No acidification
* No chaptalization
* No alcohol adjustment
* NOTHING should be added that is not from the grape itself
* No texture manipulation (MOX)
* No reverse osmosis (unless needed to ‘save’ a vintage)
* Sulfur used in the minimum, and preferably from natural sources.

Cum Grano Salis, Fat, NOLA Trumpets, Drama Wines

Well, it's Holy Week for all you non-Christians and pagan-heathenists. Then again, there is the Vernal Equinox coming up. Without day equaling night, none of this would exist, would it?

Alfonso On The Wine Trail in Italo-Americano California dines in a few posh overpriced real Italian eateries on that venerable pacific coast and discovers the secret ingredient that keeps the faithful returning to these temples of Italian food. Since it is Holy Week, he somehow manages to avoid the use of profanity. I could never do that.

"Who therefore knows the salt and its solution knows the hidden secret of the wise men of old. Therefore turn your mind upon the salt, for in it alone (i.e. the mind) is the science concealed and the most excellent and most hidden secret of all ancient philosophers."

Mario Batali says he's going to lose 40 pounds. I should talk, but seeing is believing. Well, Bourdain gave up smoking so...

The trumpet has played a vital part in the history of the city of New Orleans. Irvin Mayfield views libraries as musical notes drifting through city, creating a sense of community.

"A library is democracy inside four walls, the freedom to information," he said. "Jazz is democracy we hear."

I think this marketing ploy is a little shallow, demographically speaking, but wine for drama queens? Turn up the refrigerator.

Monday's Child

I keep repeating the mantra of "The Last Spritzer" mention, but Lost New York City posted these handwritten signs at The Old Town Bar in NYC. I could not resist. In the other drink-related news, a few choice quotes from the hilarious Kingsley Amis:

"Offered the choice of red or white wine at a stand-up party the other day, I explained that my stomach objected to the acid produced by wine without food, whereas spirits were all right. “Sorry to hear that,” said the host. “I’m afraid there’s nothing else in the house.” My stomach took five minutes to change its mind."

"When that ineffable compound of depression, sadness (these two are not the same), anxiety, self-hatred, sense of failure and fear for the future begins to steal over you, start telling yourself that what you have is a hangover. You are not sickening for anything, you have not suffered a minor brain lesion, you are not all that bad at your job, your family and friends are not leagued in a conspiracy of barely maintained silence about what a shit you are, you have not come at last to see life as it really is, and there is no use crying over spilt milk."

I like reading Catavino, a site devoted to Spanish and Portuguese wines. The couple up and moved to Spain, realizing a dream. They arrived poor and without work, but have survived and are thriving. Videos of Rafael Vivanco and Marie Jose Lopez Heredia.

"How would you define the difference between a traditional Rioja wine and a modern Rioja wine and what do you think are the pluses and negatives of each style/philosophy?"

Bodegas Marqués de Murrieta

The Wine Doctor writes on the great Rioja Bodega, Murrieta, founded by a Peruvian. This venerable Rioja is a traditional one, hand harvested and sees old American oak with less than 1% French wood. The last time I had the pleasure of drinking one of their wines was a few years ago. It was the 1995 Ygay Reserva Collecion 2100. Luckily, I kept some notes. Great balance, centered concentration, harmonious, tannins that were well woven and integrated, lengthy very smooth, yet solid, finish with the slightest hint of vanilla like a kiss from the old oak. For a period, this bodega's wines were not imported, but recently they have begun to appear again thankfully, though not widely.

"He ventured to taste others, and judged them more with the tongue that speaks than with the tongue that tastes..."

"As that theologian said, strong is a king who destroys all, stronger still is a woman who obtains all, but strongest is wine, which drowns reason."

"The Island of the Day Before" --Umberto Eco 

Savanna's One Dream

Savanna Samson aka Natalie Olivares of Rochester, NY makes movies with subtle intriguing plots and has a wine concern. Her wine, Sogno Uno, is a blend of three varietals. Pope Parker, not the incumbent Benedict XVI, gave her wine a 91 rating. Points are important here. I don't think that she will ever be at Sundance or that I will be buying her juice. Here's an interview with her in NY Magazine.

Volatile Phenolics and Malolactic Conversion

Taste is mainly made up of smell and smell is a mystery. I believe that some of the stretched adjectives used to describe a wine's flavors come from this essential mysterious core. There are really two mysteries here; the mystery of smell itself and the mystery of wine. I am always reminded of Richard Olney's quote from his autobiography, "Reflexions": "Words cannot touch the soul of a wine." It's true, but people continue to try, some humbly some not so humbly. The barrage of the wine lexicon speak can become very annoying and sometimes gets in the way of enjoying the wine in your glass.

"These are descriptions of, respectively, a chocolate, an olive oil, and a perfume, but you couldn’t possibly guess that. I’ve never caught traces of red fruit in a dark chocolate, I don’t even know what neroli is, and, as for underripe bananas in olive oil, I’m more likely to catch the Sundance Kid in Bolivia. That doesn’t mean that the people who can taste these things are bluffing; rather, they have a vocabulary of specific sense references that I haven’t acquired. (To complicate matters, sometimes these people actually are bluffing.)" 

Rioja Redux, Il Naso, Wine Complexity and Nuances

When The Wine Doctor mentions CVNE, Compania Vinicola del Norte de Espana est. 1879, and Contino Rioja, my fungiform papillae and olfactory receptors start dancing flamenco, especially when the words Imperial Gran Reserva are used. Traditional versus modern style. It's all good in the best of both worlds.

An Obsession with Food and Wine offers some very useful tips about tasting wine from his wine class at UC Berkeley Extension. (ponytails optional):

"It’s easy to recall an aroma when a person says its name — if I say, “vanilla” you can probably conjure up its odor — but much harder to go from an aroma to its name. This is one of the hardest parts about articulating what’s in a glass, and of course the subject of infinite amusement to non-connoisseurs. 'Flutter of Edam and soupçon of asparagus,' indeed ."

In a similar vein, The Picky Eater brings up some good points about what has been termed complexity in wine. There are multiple nuances clamoring for one's attention in a wine. People seek to derive complexity from a horde of nuances. If there is no harmony and balance, then the cacaphony of nuances drowns out any imbalances.   

A wine with a “multiplicity of nuances” is presumed to be complex, even though this kind of multiplicity often results in a cacophony of disjointedness. A wine with its elements in perfect harmony is often mistaken for simple, since it is not possible to isolate every nuance and reduce it to a “descriptor” in a “tasting note.”

The Spirit of 92

I could listen to Ike Quebec and drink Alion all night long. I have a few Ike Quebec cd's and some vinyl that I can listen to any time, but we drank the last half bottle of Alion last night. It was a 1992 Reserva and still had backbone, subtle fruit and silky tannins. We had it with sliced pork loin marinated in orange juice, cumin, smoked paprika, olive oil that was then grilled on charcoal. I bought several bottles of the 1992 Alion Reserva for a song a few years ago at the Spirit Shoppe in Great Barrington, MA. The last bottle we drank was about a month or so ago. I could sense that it was time. It had peaked and was beginning to fade. I think part of the problem was the heat of last summer when the temperature in our cellar reached 70+. Alion Reservas or Crianzas of the future will not fit into our budget. Unless lady luck is with us, I don't foresee drinking Alion anytime soon. It was a fond farewell to the times circa 1992. Scents and sounds from times past. They commingle and make for magic that nothing can match. The 1990's were a decade of polar extremes for me. There was cancer, cure and a cancer. The sun at 16 degrees N made the sun at 42 degrees N seem like twilight at noon. There was the discovery of a new universe of music and dance. There were sleepness periods of three months. There were anti these and anti those. There were two therapists who fell asleep while I struggled to spit it out. The darkness polaxed me. I was almost inert. I was like a one-eyed pig running in a muddy ditch. There were horrible scenes with filled with contempt. I am the same person and I am not. On the morning of April 20, 1999, I had numbness in my right arm. The day before I had an angina attack that I thought was something else. I told my supervisor that I needed to leave and see my doctor, who luckily was right down the street. In response, my supervisor being the true bureaucrat that he is, asked me about some silly statistics. I told him that I had to leave and did. My doctor hooked me up to an EKG and called the ambulance. He told me had I waited a little longer that things would have been really interesting. He also said that he would have my car parked in his lot towed. I said thanks. After a stent was inserted at the hospital, I was wheeled into recovery. Everyone was glued to the TV. It was Columbine High day, the fourth deadliest shooting on modern history.

Time is relative as Einstein once explained by comparing his finger on a hot stove for a few seconds and a beautiful woman sitting in his lap for 15 minutes.

Alfonso and William Shatner Cut New Album Together

Alfonso always seems to be in the right place at the right time. He gets to eat CIA buffalo sliders with freshly ground black pepper from William Shatner's personal peppermill, drink lots of Silver Oak blindfolded, Nero D'Avola from Calistoga? and meet Italian women with the perfect sarcasm quotient. He also knows Terry Hughes. And he's left handed, as Terry now knows.

1947 Cheval Blanc, "a cuddly wild boar"

I have never been a Bordeaux afficionado and don't think I will ever become one, given the price of these aged wines. When I saw "Sideways", I had heard of Cheval Blanc and but did not know that it is composed of (57%?) Cabernet Franc and the balance Merlot with small amounts of Cabernet Sauvignon and Malbec. I also knew that it is revered in the wine world. What I didn't know was that the 1947 vintage is an exceptional wine. It is a remarkable tale. The wine, "a happy accident of nature", made itself despite an extremely hot growing season and stalled fermentation. Today, it has the nuances of fine aged port. We share the same birth year. We both are baby boomers. I have been told that the winter of my birth in Rhode Island was bitterly cold and snowy. Now I know that both births were troublesome. I doubt that I have aged as well as the wine. I have become a little portly, but not as fine as a aged port. I could have used some ice water in my face not a few times in life to jump start my fermentation. I have some residual sugar and volatile acidity. The prima materia has been transformed. The albedo is beginning to show faint signs of the rubedo on the horizon. My tannins are still resolving themselves and aren't fully integrated. The harmony between fruit and wood is always a work in progress. My distillation has been long and slow. The cockiness of my young fruit has been rounded into a more balanced garnet-ruby hue. More centered, as a fellow Oenatriaphile blogger once put it. I can pair with almost any food with spunk and flavor. I am not dead on the shelf and don't taste like a million other internationally styled wines. I am still alive and curious, though a little diluted. I remember where I was born and how. I hold those who raised me close to my heart, as well as those who have darkened my sense of humor. There's lots of sediment to be sure. I am not corked, yet. Labels don't stick to me, thankfully. Nor am I hoi-polloi.      

"businessmen, they drink my wine, plowmen dig my earth, none of them along the line, know what any of it is worth"

Alfonso Cevola, the guy on the Italian Wine Trail, works for a large wine and liquor conglomerate deep-in-the-heart of Dallas, Texas. He is their Italian wine man. Yet, in the stupifying mega-world of wine sales, margins, profits, promotional gimmicks, 3 tier systems, spoofilation, fetishism, wine ghosts, wine geek-speak, points, pairings and poseurs, he manages to stay close to the earth and vine. It helps that he was raised in a vineyard. Sometimes I believe he channels Melo Minnella, although still living, and Rilke. In the above post he has some links to some fine bloggers that he has met via the vine. It beats me how I got included in the group. Thanks, Alfonso.

Italian Made

In a few weeks there will be a Italian wine tasting at Delaware Plaza Wine Company. I know two of the importers, Vias and Winebow's Leonardo LoCascio Selections. I'm not sure of the third. The owner gave me a brochure from The Italian Trade Commission entitled "The Wines of Italy". It is actually a small book rather than a brochure, printed on heavy glossy stock. What was interesting about the contents was that Sicily is the first region in the book. The journey starts from the island of the Golden Honeycomb and proceeds north up the boot. This is the first time that I have seen this. In most other publications, the order is from Nord to Sud. The Mezzogiorno and Sicily are usually the last to be mentioned. Sometimes the mention is scant at best. Things have been changing for a while now and this is just another indication of that.

The Lustau Sherry Squadron

Sherry is very under appreciated in this country and its sales in Europa are in a depressed state. There are some very informative articles on this fine wine at Wine Camp's Use it Or Lose It and Michael Schachners' piece at Cellartours. The book "The Wine Atlas of Spain" is also a very good source. Lustau produces a Solera Reserva Rare Amontillado named "Escuadrilla". I enjoyed a glass with some roasted almonds. Sherry should be served in wine glasses, not those 2 oz. teetotaler china closet curios.

"Amontillado is simply old Fino. That is, Fino left to age after the protective covering of Flor has died off thus developing an oxidized character. Real Amontillado is absolutely dry and should be served at cool room temperature. By cool room temperature I mean an unheated castle in the English countryside in December. The wine should taste cool, but not chilled. Amontillado is much richer in color, body, and alcohol and is more of a sipping wine than Fino, which can be a gulping wine in the right situation. Amontillado is a wonderful cool-weather aperitif and goes surprisingly well with braised game dishes, particularly when some of the wine is used in the cooking."

2005 Cotes de Tables Red

The Perrin family of Beaucastel fame owns Tablas Creek Winery in Paso Robles Cailifornia. When I bought the 2005 Cotes de Tablas red ($19 before discount), it was on the shelf beside one of my favorite Californicated-Rhone blends, Morgan Winery's Cotes de Crows. I went with the Tablas. It was a disappointment compared to the Morgan and $2 more to boot. I won't buy it again. It lacked depth and seemed a little vapid. What with all the hype because of the familial history, I expected more wine to chew on. Maybe they should stay in the Rhone to make their wines or maybe I should stick with Rhone wineries that make their best wines in the Rhone valley. I would try the Z Three from Zaca Mesa Winery before buying the Tablas again. 

Very Smelly Lundi Gras

The human tongue can distinguish only five basic qualities: bitter, salty, sour, sweet and umami (meaty, savory). The nose however can distinguish between hundreds of substances. Flavor is made of up olfaction, taste and nerves leading from the mouth to the brain. So, when we experience the flavor of a meatball or an Aglianico, it is a very complex array of interacting factors in motion. Take a look at an anatomical drawing of the human mouth cavity and how it is connected to the brain. What happens is astounding, yet most people take it for granted or never stop to think about what is really being sensed and perceived. On dogs and scent: As for superlative sense of smell, the bloodhound is number one. The Nick Carter bloodhound cited in Wikipedia is credited with picking up a scent that was 104 hours old. I have heard of much longer scent times that are incredible.

Alfonso has his nose in books, in wine glasses and in the fields of Segesta. In his latest entry, The Italian Wine Guy offers this earthy meditation on the ancient sense of smell. Some wine textperts like to use the term "barnyardy" in referring to a certain aroma or taste in a wine. What they really mean to describe is the smell of decay and manure that is so essential to the life cycle. People don't like to hear that. It is too indelicate. They would rather hear or taste "asphalt" or "lead pencil". Much more appealing.

The picture at the top was ganked. These are pictures of Sybil, our 110 pound Bloodhound with French Canadian champions in her bloodlines. She was born and raised in the country. We drove to Auburn, NY in a VW to pick her up as a pup. These pictures were taken in 1973 at our house that we rented from George Rickey in the country in New Lebanon, NY. She was a scent hound hunter and the suburbs killed her. There is a swimming pool next door that has never seen much use in the 27 years that we have lived here. The runoff from the pool was never properly drained and seeped up to the surface. That is what killed her. I knew it the second I saw her drinking from the small pool. It was one of the most horrible nights of our lives. I had just started a new job a week earlier, but that didn't matter. That was April 1982. She had a very gentle sensitive temperament. She looked fearful, but was a big affectionate slobbering creampuff. I could pull her soft skin almost over her head. We did not get another dog until 2003.