Pusher Man

Couly-Dutheil
Chinon, Loire, France
Cabernet Franc
Rating: 9.0


There's nothing wrong with Domestic wine. Trust me, I'll start covering them more, soon. We've got plans.

But can California beat this kind of history???

Okay, so check this out:

Apparently the "Couly" and the "Dutheil" namesakes originally joined in ownership of the chateau because they married. Big deal, eh?

Well, guess what?

They were cousins....

I win.

Anyway, not only that, but one-time owner of the land was the Rabelais family (including Francois Rabelais, a Renaissance man condemned by the Roman Catholic Church for being so outspoken on their habits/traditions). Fred Franzia is a dildo, but man, France is way more interesting.

In the last year, I've tried about 6 wines from Chinon, liking all to some extent. None were great with subtlety, though. However, all those I've tried were a 90-second snapshot. That's it.

I've got time tonight to watch this evolve, and it's been a shocker. Motherfucking-bravo.

This. Is. Worth. It.

Chinon is 100 percent Cabernet Franc (usually a minor grape in red Bordeaux wines), and at the beginning it's all the usual: Loads of angular green pepper, mustard seed and black soil. This was looking to be 7.0-7.5 at best. But in a mere hour of being open, it became a stellar value, built on mojo.

That's not hyperbole. If you could just feel it change. It came alive, and became something wild and lovable. I smelled the garlic farms of Gilroy, CA, a just-bitten-into plum, softer sautéed bell peppers, and just a touch of blueberries.

The acidity is slightly noticable, but the glass-half-full of the situation is when you serve this with a meal, this will prove to become a wine that can take the back seat. It's not a showoff, but it feels obvious that combination of extroverted style, green herbs, wild fruit, and an uncanny ability to evolve so quickly means that this is a winner. This Chinon won't be for the fruit-seekers. But it should be for everyone else.

And you might ask yourself a few things:

What helps me get laid? Are you female? If you are female, do you think batting your eyes and touching a man's arm when he talks about his dreams will get you a few hours of action?

Gentlemen? Do you think that you're dexterous game of sensitivity and machismo will drop her underwear into a ball of memories hurriedly picked up in the morning?

Listen, the night changes every second. Like this wine. And, for my money, there's only one man that understood the best of power and the best of love. And you know him. And love him.

And that's Curtis Fucking Mayfield.

So In Love is the best song of all time. Trust me.

-Justin

Drink Off I - Spanish Reds, 2000.

Five people.

Seven bottles.

No leftovers…….

Five headaches.

But hey, you’ve gotta make sacrifices. And that’s what Pitchfork Wine & Company did last week, at PW’s Drink Off I.

December’s Drink-Off was pretty simple. We chose seven Spanish red wines, all from the 2000 Vintage. We tried them blind, as well. All bottles were shoved into brown paper bags and held in place by rubber bands. Only the bottle shape could’ve been a giveaway.

Blind tasting is great for a few reasons:

1. It keeps you on your toes. You have to allow for objectivity. The most expensive wine may not always show the best, and as a wine lover, it’s a growing experience to actually feel the difference (or non-difference) in wines. You can’t know the story before it happens. Guess all you want. You will be wrong most of the time.

2. You are no longer in control. That’s right, you power-hungry twerp. You’ll actually have to think.

3. There is no right or wrong, and the only way to realize this is to be absolutely humble when your favorites of the night aren’t what they thought they would be. Grow some balls. Life ain’t that difficult.

So, with that taken into account, here are the results of Drink Off I.

2000 Spanish Reds

1st Place - Las Gravas – From the Eastern region of Jumilla, this is 50% Mourvedre, 40% Cabernet Sauvignon, and 10% Syrah. Notes ranged from “meaty and penetrating, licorice, waves of spice,” to “complex nose, spice, dark blackberry,” to “strawberry, methane nose, very thin but almost garlic-like.”

Jay and Justin both ranked this first, while Lauren ranked it third. Ah, yes. Even us wine-industry types agree to disagree. Which is what’s so damn beautiful about discovering wine. Expect to pay about $27-35 retail.

2nd Place – Marqués de Cáceres Rioja Reserva – From Rioja, Spain’s best-known region, this 85% Tempranillo, 15% Garnacha Tinta and Graciano impressed everyone. Notes: “peppers/marshmallows/blackberry,” “big fruit nose, tannic but yet thin,” “nice, spicy finish.” Non-wineguy Patrick says this “makes my tongue sandy.”

He also gives this 1,087 points.

So close to winning was the Caceres, but Jay gave the slight nudge at the last minute to Las Gravas. It was close. This was Lauren’s favorite. $20-25 retail.

3rd place – Mas de Bazan Crianza – Wow. This shocked us all. First all, the fucking bottle comes with what looks to be a ponytail holder, or a sweatband. This bottle was totally working out. Some say that the red stretchy fabric was supposed to stop the dripping; I feel that’s a ruse to allow for the ‘70s retro look.

Anyway, this one comes from somewhere between Madrid and Jumilla, in a little-known place called Utiel-Requena. This is a mish-mash of 4 grapes: Bobal, Tempranillo, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Merlot. I had no idea what Bobal was 30 seconds before I wrote this.

Notes: “Barnyard, leather/shoe polish, light perfume,” “kinda punchy, new leather, pleasant cherry,” “alcohol, long, fruity finish.”

For $10-14, this was by far the best value.

4th place – Rotllan Torra Priorat - $18-24

5th place – Montecillo Rioja Reserva - $18-24

6th place – Valderiz Ribera del Duero - $20-27

7th place – Faustino de Crianza Rioja - $11-15

Now, none of these were bad wines. We all enjoyed each wine to some extent. But the Valderiz seems overpriced in retrospect. Justin liked it the most, but even he said the “finish was a bit lacking.” Now, this wine was tasted both 45 minutes after opening and 2 hours after opening, which is plenty of time for a 2000 to breathe and to really show any potential beauty on the nose. But it didn’t really happen.

Now that it’s over, we can look back and give thanks for Las Gravas being as awesomely elegant as it was, and Mas de Bazan being as cheap as it was.

But we have to thank the soundtrack for the night:

Sonic Youth - Washing Machine
Ivy - Apartment Life
PJ Harvey - Stories from the City, Stories from the Sea
Curtis Mayfield - The Very Best of Curtis Mayfield
Talking Heads - Stop Making Sense
The Who - The Kids are Alright

Drink Off II will be after the holidays, when we tackle Rieslings.

Until then, one wine at a time, one album at a time. With love and inebriation...

Enjoy!

-Pitchfork Wine Staff

More Than This

Ridge
Lytton Springs 2004
Sonoma County, California
Rating: 8.5








I'll start off by proclaiming how awesome my mom is. Aside from birthing me she also, upon being invited to my apartment for her birthday dinner, volunteered to cook (and set up a tiny Christmas tree which I would have never thought to procure on my own). Don't get me wrong, I love cooking and would have gladly made dinner. However, I couldn't turn down one of Gail's signature dishes: fettucini with shrimp, tomatoes, sundried tomatoes, basil, shallots, and feta. This left my boyfriend and I to choose an appropriate vino, bread, hors d'orderves, and dessert. The wine proved to be easy, as we went with our gut instincts. Getting out of Zingerman's in a timely manner, however, is a bitch. We were like Hansel and Gretel, sampling goodies fed to us by a staff hellbent on fattening us up and, through a natural curing process, making us delectible enough to be sliced and placed between two slices of Farmhouse bread , priced $13 at the Roadhouse.


While the pasta was being prepared, we snacked on two cheeses: a locally made goat cheese rolled in tarragon and a creamy, brie-like cheese from Burgandy which is actually rubbed in pulp from Burgandy grapes. A no-brainer match was L. Mawby's Blanc de Blanc, a crisp, dry, delicious sparkler from the Leelanau Peninsula. Probably best known for his Sex Brut Rose (and subsequently one of the most predictible double entendres in the local wine industry), Lawrence Mawby's winery is my favorite in Michigan. All sparkling but all over the place and a great tasting room experience to boot. But the bubbles were just the beginning...

Although we had considered going with the Geyserville, we chose the Lytton Springs for its higher concentration of Petite Sirah. All Ridge proprietary Zinfandel blends possess a common thread in taste, but are different just enough to warrant indecision of what to drink with a particular meal. Initial instincts, as often the case, proved correct. The 2004 Lytton Springs, which is 79% Zinfandel, 18% Petite Sirah, and 3% Carignane, was the right choice. Rich plum color with a nose of dark berry and smoke, but also walnut and fortified grape(which I'll get to later). This is a serious Zin- all the fruit-forward qualities for which the varietel is known, but with added structure and boldly finessed tannins. It's also a formidible match to a dish with shellfish and tomatoes, as it's smooth enough not to drown out the flavor of the former and hearty enough to stand up to the ripeness and acidity of the latter.

Lytton Springs is Bryan Ferry- unquestionably masculine, but wrapped in such a suave and deboniare package. Perhaps I should have put on Country Life as we sat around the table after dinner, savoring the last of the wine. This is when an important discovery was made- the more the Lytton Springs opened up, the more it took on an aroma of vanilla, nuts and cognac quite reminiscent of the wine that, coincidently, we planned on drinking with dessert. Chateau d'Orignac Pineau des Charentes, one of my favorite dessert wines, is aged in cognac barrels and has a toasty hazelnut flavor. With its sonically harmonious fusion of strong flavors, it just might be the Bryan Eno of wine. Or not. Trying the two side by side only made the similarities more apparent and made for a seamless transition from dinner to dessert. Naturally, both go well with chocolate-frosted cupcakes.

-Lauren

Boys and Girls in the Douro

Cado
Romeira de Cima
Douro, Portungal
Rating: 8.8

Wow. The flavor-to-dollar ratio is all screwed up now.

I had tried this about 6-8 months ago, and I remembered thinking highly of it. But holy crap this lived up to my memory.

Most importantly, I just spend a total of maybe $20-22 on what amounts to a meal for 4, wine included. Now I live alone (technically I have a roommate, but he "stays over" at his girlfriends 6.85 days a week), so this means that a: I have leftovers, and b: I might drink the entire bottle right now.

That's fine with me. Trust me, this is one of the best values I've seen in awhile, if you're looking for grit, dark fruit, spice, and earth in your wine.

Granted this will probably be about $13-15 retail, the Cado Douro is not going to be both muscular and elegant. Good luck getting that below $40. And anyway, Portugal isn't really known for cheap and elegant wines.

I paired this up with a a 3-cheese Ziti with Mushroom Sauce and Chorizo that kicked major ass, but took almost 2 hours to cook. Knowing that the meal would take awhile I humored myself by starting the night with a Wittekerke and then a glass of Stonehaven Chardonnay (I'll rate this 6.9 - clean, easy, no more).

As the meal was nearing the moment of truth, I couldn't help myself any longer. I had to try this demon.

I popped the bastard open, poured a glass, and took a whiff. And at first the Cado was a bit of a free-for-all, with scents of hot, sticky clay taking precedent. But patience is a virtue. I, in time, was starting to get a feel for the fruit of the Cado, with some great plum undertones and some meatiness. It's amazing what leaving a wine in your glass for 15 minutes will do.

And at first sip, the wine's flavor was exactly what the nose predicted: Hot earth, plum, and tannins. But it developed even more, into a its own little niche of complexity, muscle, and my sweet-spot for big, strong wines that do it without choking me with oak.

With patience, I found a wine with beautiful clay and earth, blackberry jamminess, and just a slight reminder of chocolate, along with hints of Port-esque characteristics of caramel and raisins (this is the same region in which Port is made). This handled all the spice of the chorizo, and the hard texture of the Parmesan, Romano, and Reggianito.

I try not to be an advocate for any particular wine. But if you want tenacity, spice, and dark fruit from something that still makes you want to fall in love, then this is it.

With that in mind, for those of you (us) that have been asleep for the last few years, go check out The Hold Steady.

Trust me and the 78 other people who've already told you to.

-Justin

Driving Sideways

Nobilo
Sauvignon Blanc, 2005
Marlborough, New Zealand
Rating: 8.4









It's not often I see the girlfriend during the week, considering we currently live about 100 miles down from each other on the racetrack of hell known as I-94.

I hate driving on that thing. Cars going 75 passing trucks going 74, staying in the left lane to pass a truck barely discernable on the horizon. Here are the basic problems of I-94:

1. Stupid people - I'm driving to Kalamazoo last night and Joe Honda pulls the usual routine. With the assertiveness of a dead donkey, Joe drives the span of a semi he's passing in probably 60-90 seconds. Because of this awesome miracle, there's now about 20 cars behind him (I'm watching all of this in my rearview; I saw it coming, so I zig-zagged around the putz) waiting to pass the semi.

2. Cell phones - I wasn't aware that talking on a phone cause limited usage of more than one extremity. Apparently feet don't work that well; neither does one's left arm (focusing primarily on the driver's ability to use the blinker and slightly turn the wheel.

3. Manifest destiny - Anyone who's paid attention to history knows that unnecessary death, diseases and problems occur when one tries to achieve manifest destiny.

"THE ROAD IS MINE!?!!!!"

"@#%&@#%(*&$!@"

For some reason people get offended when they get passed on the left. They then proceed to speed up to your speed, likely to prove a point. I'm just not sure what it is yet.

But I felt like seeing her and taking her out to dinner. We don't do it often because of lack of time and money, so this was a long time coming.

She'd been eyeing this place, the Oakwood Bistro, next to her health food store for awhile. So we decidedly stopped in for some 'fud.'

Now, I have to preface this all by saying that the girlfriend cannot eat gluten (which is found in wheat, barley, other grains), soy, or dairy. So we're not going to be the easiest slam-dunk of a table. But we're not too picky.

So we sit down, and the restaurant seems pretty clean and friendly. It's oddly narrow for a place of fine dining, but the proof is in the pudding. Or the crab cakes.

I snag the wine menu first, and am sadly disappointed. There's nothing incredibly substantial on the list. All of their cheap glasses/bottles are from subpar performers ($6 for a glass of Non Vintage Foxhorn Cabernet Sauvignon?). I was tempted to just go for a beer.

However, I noticed that they had Nobilo's Icon on the menu. Having had it 6 months ago at a tasting and enjoyed it, I figured it would this wine or no wine. GF ordered their Beef Tournedos, a French dish of Filet Mignon, sautéed spinach and peppers. I ordered their Blue Crab Cakes (highly recommended) and the Wild Sockeye Salmon.

Now, The Icon Sauvignon Blanc is not the best pairing for either entrée; I understand that. GF doesn't really drink reds, and I really didn't feel like drinking an overpriced watery Pinot Noir. I guess it's to no fault of the restaurant. I'm bettin' they probably sell the crap out of their wine list.

So Jen the server brings over the wine a few minutes after the crab cakes arrive, and it was pretty much as good as I remembered.

Marlborough Sauvignon Blancs tend to be a bit acidic and reallllly strong with the citrusy components. They're usually not subtle, and people don't drink them for subtlety. They tend to be drunk for overt fruit flavor and a refreshing style.

The Nobilo Icon is a bit different.

Certainly some noticable lemon peel and grapefruit aromas, but the body was a bit different. Still refreshing stylistically, the Icon had hints of the land the grapes were grown on. And that doesn't seem to happen a whole lot with the New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs. It was more elegant and pleasant than "kick-ass," more leafy green and asparagus/pistachio than melon and lime.

It ended up not being a terrible match to my Salmon. The Salmon was slightly dry, but that was my only true complaint. We both were impressed with the Icon, and our food. We decided to go for it (with the GF risking stomach issues on diary) and try their S'more Pot de Crème (just a fancy s'more, nothing more). It was a nice way to top off the meal.

The Lesson Learned is this: Restaurant wine lists are usually unadventurous and a bit overpriced (to be fair, there's a lot of money that goes into the upkeep on the things like glasses, cleaning, returned bottles that customers say are bad when really they are not).

Hopefully there's a gem or two on every list...stick with those instead of the someone telling you that you should drink this when you eat that. In theory, of course that's true. A perfect food/wine pairing is a beautiful thing. But your Pork Medallions ain't gonna taste like the Last Supper if you're drinking Night Train Express.

Just keep that in mind.

-Justin

Italian Vein Melter

Masi
Campofiorin Ripasso, 2003
Valpolicella, Veneto, Italy
Rating: 8.2







I recently attended a luncheon that took place for one reason only: For an Italian winery representative (whose winery shall remain nameless) to pimp out his alcohol for us "on and off premise" pimps to get it, appreicate it, and move his product.

As this man opined his way through the forest of misshapen entrées and clumsy salads, he was able to show his wines with candor, stating all the things he thought were wrong about the lunch (and how the wines were paired), and what was right. And it made sense.

Point being is this: He also went on to scoff at the Veronese (think Romeo and Juliet) habit known as Ripasso/Amarone. Made of mostly the Corvina grape, these two types of wine are not subtle, and any winery trying to make its name on elegance likely would take umbrage of the fact that a heady, concentrated style of wine such as Ripasso/Amarone might take some of the U.S. market share of Italian Imported wine.

I, the suburban white boy, dug this man's wines of elegance. But tonight, I drank a Ripasso.

And as muscular as Ripassos tend to be, I found it to a success in explosiveness and balance, even if there was no complexity.

Masi's Ripasso is just like every "ripassa," in that dried grapes are ultimately added to the blend. So if you ever taste something akin to raisins in these wines, you'll know why.

There was some obvious punchy fruit from the get-go, thick, round and alcoholic. However, this never became a fruit-and-alcohol delivery system. This was, instead, a wine missing some grace, but making up for it with a candied nose, and reminders of blackberry, cherry, wet clay, and cooked red peppers.

My Thai Curry sausages and rice/veggies stir-fry experiment found a relatively sound partner in the Masi. I solidly recommend this for dishes with Asian/Mediterranean/Moroccan spices.

The wistfulness of feeling the wine's acidity come alive with the food was astounding, considering how little I expected the Ripasso to have any dexterity toward a dish largely based on rice and green beans. Thoroughly enjoyable.

It's all about improvisation. An old man I've met a few times is known to say "man makes plans but God decides." I'm sure the old fart had bigger things in mind than food, but it doesn't matter. He's right. I planned originally to drink this tomorrow with some steak, but after I tasted the final product in the pan, I knew I had a nice pairing.

It also helped that Herbie Hancock's "Headhunters" was on in the next room, reminding me just what kind of improvisation actually moves some mountains every now and then.

-Justin

O Valencia

Torres
Viña Esmeralda 2005
Catalunya, Spain
Rating: 8.8

All right, I am fully aware that the Torres wineries are located in the Penedes, which is much closer to Barcelona than Valencia. Bear with me. Viña Esmeralda is unique blend of 85% Moscatel and 15% Gewürztraminer of which my preconceived notions were nil. The nose can only be described as a hug from a heavily made-up European grandmother: perfume, floral, slight muskiness, and a hint of hairspray. I'm not sure I've seen the latter adjective used in the wine press, but it's not the first time I've smelled a little Aqua Net in a white wine (and found it off-putting). Alas, first impressions, with wine as with people, can only reveal so much.

Almonds, citrus, and pineapple all came to mind as I sipped this treat of a wine that rode the line between whimsy and elegance. Eating a few raw almonds with the wine brought out more pronounced flavor and it seemed to compliment Muenster cheese quite well. However, the well-balanced acidity and light fruit could stand up to a heftier, saltier Iberian cheese for sure. A truly transcendant white for a mere $13, if pressed to compare, I'd liken it to a White Burgandy meets a Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc. Old world meets new world, brash yet subdued, what could it's aural component possibly be?

The latest effort from The Decemberists, The Crane Wife, is analogous to my experience with Viña Esmeralda. Those bookish, cardigan-wearing kids from Portland have always had one foot in the old world while turning out contemporary pop (a genre which seems to be undergoing a renaissance worthy of no longer using the term as a pejorative). Elitists be damned, their folk-meets-prog major label debut is as much of an excercise in accessibility as it is in esotericism. Chamber pop melodies, kick-ass guitar solos, and a track so long I momentarily thought I was at a Yes concert when I saw them live last month. They deserve all the air-play they can get, just as this interesting white blend is a worthy competitor of other less-interesting wines in its price range.

-Lauren

Southern France and Mud Flaps

Grande Cassagne
"G.S." - 2004
Costières de Nîmes, Languedoc-Rousillon, France
Rating: 6.8







Nobody wants to worry about always putting in the effort. And we shouldn't have to. There are too many drinks out there nowadays for us to seriously consider pairing wine with food on a regular basis. If you like Chardonnay, drink Chardonnay. No one's saying you're an asshole. But one day, you're going to come across a wine that just didn't make sense until you tried a kickass meal alongside it.


That's what it took for this one. But I won't give it the credit for being a wine of stature that only a thick steak could tame. The Grande Cassagne has character; there's nothing wrong with this wine per se. However, one shouldn't have to try this hard.


From the beginning, this smelled like the Southern French rolling mountains (I imagine). 40 percent Grenache, 40 percent Syrah, and 20 percent Mourvedre (the three most important grapes for red Rhone wine and other French areas), I get a hefty noseful of blackberries and wet soil from the nose. And that's usually a good sign. And so I try a little harder to get some pretty cool hints of herbs...something like basil (pizza seasonings, perhaps?).


And the red juiciness lands on my tongue and explodes with out-of-control acid.


Damnit.


I've had refermented wine many times before; that wasn't the problem. This just didn't have the balance I was looking for. Which was too bad. Fortunately, this because 10 times as tolerable when I broke out the rock-hard block of Dutch Perrano cheese in my fridge. Almost there. So, I gave it some time while I cooked up a steak on the stove.


It shouldn't have come to that, but hey, whatever. This was $12 spent on something that I enjoyed for what it was: fruity, earthy, syrupy wine with something closely related to a soul. With the cheese, this certainly livened up into a refreshing representation of raspberry/blackberry and cream (thank you, dairy farmers).


I guess expectations are a bitch.

However, a major factor in the enjoyment has been the soundtrack of the last month of my life. Decoration Day by the Drive-By Truckers has easily found it's way into the top 10 albums of the decade, thus far. Beer seems to be the obvious pairing while taking in these Southern Rock Hammers. With that being said, there's a shitload going on here. Decoration Day came out 3 years ago, but it might as well have either been 2010 or 1974. It's great when a true rock band can weave stories in their songs that don't pander to the simple equative emotions of loving your home or country. Thank God for DBT.

-Justin