Tuesday, June 2 2009

Weekly Wined-Up

Stand tall, soldiers: you did your best.

It hasn't been drinktacular at Madhouse Manor lately. I've been on the road quite a bit, and thus doing my drinking out of town. Still, we managed to have a few people over and a couple of patio afternoons and I've piled up a few reviews.

First from the left is an Alsatian White, Gentil, by Hugel. Gentil is a local name for a blend of Gewürztraminer, Riesling, Muscat, Pinot Gris and Sylvaner. With a bunch of flavourful and interesting grapes like that you'd expect an over-the-top expression of snappy tastiness. But this is Sparta! I mean, er, this is Alsace, so the wine is restrained: it's dry, like licking a rock dry, and all the grapes are highly disciplined. It has some wonderful aromas, especially if you don't drink it icy cold. I like my whites at about 11ºC/52ºF, whereas most people and all restaurants serve them below 7ºC/45ºF. When it's that cold the aroma goes numb and I'd rather drink water rather than paralysed wine. It leans towards aromas of pears, apples and white grapes, with floral hints, but never comes out and goes all Gewürztraminer on your butt, or even Rieslings up. It finishes with a little sweetness (mainly a fruit and alcohol sweetness, rather than residual sugar) and it's great with seafood or just some patio time.

Right next to it is a happy surprise: Viña Alarba 2004 Old Vines Grenache (Garnacha Viñas Viejas). A surprise because after I bought it I looked it up and found out that the world's most evil wine critic, Robert 'Kitten-Strangler' Parker gave it 90 points. I almost took it back to the store for a refund, but I had a gorgeous veal chop coming off the grill and had been counting on backing it up with some yummy Grenache.

The wine is from Calatayud, in Spain's Aragón region. The vineyard is above 800 meters (2,500 feet) with very little rainfall and the vines are over 50 years old, a recipe for deep concentrations of flavour. The 2004 is medium-bodied with frisky, grippy tannins working hand-in-glove with a nip of acidity, cherries and plums give way to spice and some really charming white pepper notes and a finish of bright cherry and hints of vanilla. It's a darn fine accompaniment to veal, and a heckuva bargain to boot. I'm glad I didn't take it back, and it just goes to show that even a broken clock is right twice a day.

Next in line is Sumac Ridge's 2005 Dry Gewürztraminer, from BC's Okanagan Valley. This wine won a bronze medal at the 2006 Canadian wine awards, and really deserved it: spicy, bright and fresh, it shows a wee hint o' pink grapefruit on the nose, and lovely dollops of apple-pear and lichee through to a dry but slightly soft finish. We had this with Japanese take-out (Taka's, of course) and it held up to Abura Bincho (smoked albacore sashimi), unagi (barbecued eel) and some special takoyaki (octopus dumplings).

You're right, that next bottle was never near a grape in it's life. It's Tequila, specifically Jose Cuervo Tradicional Tequila Reposado. Made from 100% blue agave (cheap tequila is made from only 51% cactus juice. the rest is grain alcohol and high fructose corn syrup, which is why it gives such hellish hangovers), this is a reposado, a 'rested' tequila, meaning that it spent somewhere between 2 months and a year in oak barrels, mellowing and smoothing out to a pale gold colour, with vanilla, spice, and fig aromas, a dry-ish medium-body and flavours of spice, sandalwood, roasted pepperiness, fig, and hints of green peppercorn, and a long, somewhat raisiny finish. Pretty fine as a sipping tequila, it's our go-to bottle for margaritas, slushy or shaken.

Next to it is a very special bottle Peter's Red Wine, given to me by my friend Peter Brehm. Peter is the brains and backbone behind Brehm Vineyards. Based out of Albany California, Peter buys, crushes, freezes and re-sells fabulous grapes from all over the US West. His grape material has been the byword for quality for decades, and his wealth of knowledge and personal integrity as a supplier have earned him raving fans wherever wines are made by consumers.

The bottle is part of a very cool program. According to Brehm's website:

Wine grapes harvested for the home wine market were diverted into a limited production of commercial wines. A selection of grapes from California's North Coast were fermented, aged, and bottled by novice winemakers. The resulting wine is now starting to be offered for sale. The wine is an experiment to assess the value of shipping grapes to remote locations for winemaking classes and home production.

Grapes from Sonoma, Mendocino, Solano, and Contra Costa Counties were harvested in the fall of 2004. They were processed by Brehm Vineyards in the San Francisco Bay area. To allow harvesting for optimum maturity, ease of handling and storage for later fermentation, the destemmed grapes were frozen in 6 gallon plastic buckets. This process has been successfully utilized by Brehm Vineyards to serve remote clients since 1986.

Thirty-six buckets of different grape varietals were combined on pallets for economical shipping. The pails were shipped to a small vineyard / winery in Washington State. In the spring of 2005 buckets were defrosted, opened, and placed in 4' x 4' harvest bins for fermentation. The production of wine, its fermentation, cellaring, and bottling were in the hands of amateurs. Peter Brehm did oversee and guide the winemaking.

Okay, how cool is that? A commercially available wine that's made by amateurs. Really, really talented amateurs, I must say. Peter's Red Wine is a blend of Merlot and Malbec and even though it was four years old, it wasn't quite yet at its peak: it had gorgeous dark cherry, plum and spice roaring away, with fine and abundant tannins, a gripping but gentle finish and a restrained earthiness that worked with some spicy-vanilla oak to really round out a world-class wine. Good job, and I wish I could buy this in Canada--however, that's just not going to happen. Sigh. We had it with grilled rib-eyes and I finished my wine before I ate half my steak: I don't give higher compliments than that!

On another end of the spectrum entirely is a bottle of Chateau La Gravette Minervois Rosé, from the Languedoc-Rousillon region of France. A classic southern-French pink, it's made with a blend of Cinsault, Syrah, Grenache and whatnots into a lively wine with flowery notes, strawberry jam and a crisp-yet-fruity finish that's gorgeous with roast chicken, or on it's own on the patio.

The 2007 Josef Drathen Bernkastel Riesling is a QBA wine from the Mosel. At 9.5% ABV it's soft, yet with a lively spritz of acid offsetting about 2% residual sugar and it is so snappy and refreshing you almost forget to have it with food (although spicy-salt prawns were perfect with it). In these over-alcoholised times a wine under 10% is like magic grapejuice. I think I'm going to go back for a case of this, just to have with sliced fruit for lunches.

Next up is Gehringer Brothers 2005 Dry Riesling. It's a decent wine, cleanly made and quite sturdy, if a bit unremarkable--white fruits, a bit of floral notes and decent acidity to mark a really dry finish. Despite it's lack of fireworks it's a wine I buy fairly frequently. Sometimes the best surprise is no surprise at all, and I'll always have a soft spot for the Gehringers.

It goes back to the very first time I toured the Okanagan, over 20 years ago now. Very close by Gehringer was another winery (long since changed hands, no point in naming names) and we visited there first. It was so filthy, so disorganized and so appallingly casual I didn't try any of their wines. In fact, after I saw hoses lying on the floor with mould in them, and a dog sleeping in a grape bin I tried not to even touch anything. Ten minutes later we were in Gehringer, and the change could not have been more profound: if you dropped your gum on the floor you could have just popped it back in your mouth: the whole winery, from stem to stern, was cleaner than an operating room, wonderfully organised and well appointed. It struck me as a serious winery, run by adults intent on making good, sound wine--as it was, and still is.

Next up is a gorgeous little sweetie, Domaine Chandon Extra Dry Riche, a sparkling wine from Napa Valley. According to their winemaker, Wayne Donaldson:

This wine is a tribute to the ripe characteristics of California fruit. Along with the classic sparkling varieties of Pinot Noir, Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay, we added Muscat to the blend for a unique aroma and flavor experience. I don't think you'll find another sparkling wine quite like it.

He's right: the classic raspberry notes of the Pinots and the apple character of the Chardonnay are walloped upside the noggin by a blast of Muscat grapey-grape, all nectarines, white peaches and honey-honeysuckle. Forget the 'Extra Dry' stuff--that's marketing speak for 'nice and sweet'. It's really like soda pop for grownups.

Of course, my opinion of it might be influenced by the manner in which I was introduced to the beverage, and the set and setting which I consumed it in. It was last month in Napa, and the missus and I visited Domaine Chandon during the Winemaker Magazine conference. It's a beautiful property right in Yountville, and the surroundings are stunning:

Welcome to Fantasy Wineland!

Being led down the garden path

One glass makes you larger, one glass makes you small . . .

We got a bottle of the Riche and a cheese plate and a bunch of salumi and bread. I can honestly say, if you're trapped in Napa and forced to visit a sparkling wine house, you could do a whole lot worse than spend an afternoon on the Chandon patio with excellent company and brilliant sparkly wine.

The final bottle is a Perrin Réserve 2003 Côtes du Rhône red. It's a trusty old friend, and I found the bottle while rummaging in the back of my cellar. I'm pretty sure I'm the only one with a bottle left, as it wasn't really a wine for long-term ageing. Nothing wrong with the producers: the Perrin brothers also make Châteaude Beaucastel, a wonderful Châteauneuf du Pape. Nothing wrong with the grapes either: a blend of Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre and Cinsault is perfect for growing conditions in the southern Rhône. Nope, it's the price-point. I probably paid less than $15 for it, and that money doesn't usually buy more than a couple of years of ageing potential at best.

But this bottle was in excellent, if fully mature, condition. A lovely, luminous red, more deep cranberry coloured than purple, the aromas of black cherry, blackberry, vanilla and gravel gave way to flavours of bright cherry, citrus and notes of pepper, on down to a very dry (almost tart) web of fine tannins, reminiscent of cold tea, balanced back with some mid-palate sweetness. I had it with a nice juicy steak, and it was gorgeous, just enough oomph to balance a rare piece of cow, as well as a composed salad with goat cheese and walnuts. I wish I had another dozen bottles--I'd drink 'em up right away.

Sigh. So much wine, so little liver capacity. I'm off to Winnipeg this weekend to visit Winesense, and I think I'll have the opportunity to catch a beverage with the fellows there. After all, all life is grist for the mill of writing!

Posted by Tim AT 5:13PM

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