winebaer

Alsace in Kiwiland

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 17 Sep 2009 23:03:00 +0000

I recently tasted through an assortment of rich, complex, expressive, mineral-laden, mouthwatering wines which, had I tasted them blind I would have guessed were from Alsace. I would have been wrong. They were from New Zealand, and may have been the first wines from that country I have ever encountered which honestly showed a sense of place.

Of course, other New Zealand wines clearly have the markings of that country, but I contend that has more to do with the winemaker than it does the place. Those markings, after all, are overwhelmingly related to opulence of fruit aromas and flavors. They rarely demonstrate the distinctive character of a specific site. The wines I tasted this day, however, from a small winery called Pyramid Valley, did just that... and more.

Pyramid Valley is one of those wineries that just seems to be out of step with their neighbors. Husband and wife team, Mike and Claudia Weersing (he's from California and she is originally from Germany) searched the world-over for the right spot to settle down and work the soil. Mike spent time working in Europe, the US, and Australia with some of the top biodynamists - and has brought much of their philosophies along as he and Claudia started up shop in North Canterbury, NZ.

I had a conversation with a colleague the other day in which she said that she would sell, but would never drink California wine. With so much great wine from elsewhere, she explained, why bother with anything from California? Well the example of Pyramid Valley goes a long way for me in explaining why I think she is wrong to think the way she does. Mike and Claudia's wines are sophisticated, intellectually intriguing, and downright delicious - not characteristics I would have expected to find all together in most New Zealand wines.

I've said it before, and I will say it again - look beyond label, variety, and place of origin, and, instead focus on style and characteristics which make you happy... I bet you will find amazing wines from some of the least expected places.

What Drives a Wine List?

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Sat, 07 Feb 2009 15:47:00 +0000

Since moving to Portland, I've been struck by just how wine-savvy a city this is. There are few producers whose wines I crave that are not available here. And in a town with such a fantastic restaurant scene, I'm often able to find something curiously exciting on wine lists when dining out. There are, of course, those lists which don't dazzle me - and, perhaps, even, don't offer me ANY options for something appealing - at least there's usually some interesting beer to drink then.

Just like any other major metropolitan area, Portland has restaurants with wine "programs" and restaurants which simply sell wine as an obligatory (and profitable) part of the dining experience. The former group is marked by a list (long or short) of eclectic wines from a range of lesser-known regions, grapes, and producers. They often lean toward European and Euro-influenced wines, and have a staff who attempt to engage diners in a conversation about the wines they offer. The latter is often even more clearly marked by an extensive list of chardonnays, pinot noirs (a recent phenomenon), and cabernets to the detriment of other wines. Marquees (or at least very well advertised) names can typically be found throughout these lists. Some do this out of laziness, some out of ignorance, and some because they sincerely believe that's what their customers want and will buy.

Here in the Pacific Northwest, we have one additional component to wine lists which I rarely saw back in New York (even on Long Island) - there is a lot of local wine represented on and sold from wine lists. As one who knows me might expect, I have mixed feelings about this. On one hand, it supports a local industry which has proven in a very short time (since the 1960s) that great wines can be made here. On the other hand, local wines can sometimes have a disproportionate representation on lists where they don't have an abvious place. Now I'm a huge proponent of the "drink what you like - don't worry about finding the perfect pairing" approach to wine and food, but I've seen far some lists at Italian restaurants (for example) here featuring far too much local wine, and far too little Italian wine. In one instance, I read a list at a dive of a pasta place where they offered ten wines total - eight local wines from touted producers alongside a pinot grigio and a montepulciano d'abruzzo with neither a producer or a vintage listed. All I'm saying is that it would be nice to see a beter balance. Otherwise, I'll be drinking a lot more beer (and don't get me started on how hoppy the local beers are).

More than just grape juice

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 10 Sep 2008 01:38:00 +0000

I recently tagged along with some colleagues on some winery visits in Oregon's Willamette Valley. Such visits are a great opportunity for those of us charge with representing producers in the marketplace to get to know the people, stories, and ideology behind the wines a bit. The visits offered a great deal of insight into what each producer was aiming to do - and how well they had done in accomplishing their goals.

We tasted wines from both 2007 (mostly yet-to-be-blended components from barrel) and bottled wines from 2006. The contrast between the vintages were clearly striking - with deep, concentrated, fruit powered (and somewhat tight) wines in '06 and racier, acid driven wines with more elegance in '07. For those producers who are trying to achieve a classical European style, '07 may well be a terrific year.

Along the way our group heard over and over that, while much of the farming behind the wines was pure and often organic - a good amount of the cellar work was enhanced by manipulation. Let me be clear - in contrast to the many, many, many producers who add synthetic color additives and perform alcohol and acid extracting voodoo behind closed doors (and never reveal these activities publicly) - these practices are incredibly tame. More than a couple of times the notion came up of chaptilizing wines (adding sugar to pump up finished alcohol levels) in the low ripening 2007 vintage, as did the idea of using inoculating yeasts in lieu of allowing the grapes to ferment naturally with their own, native yeasts. In the case of one producer, the yeast he uses is cultivated from a wine produced by an icon in Burgundy - and it adds both a flavor and texture to the wine that would not have otherwise been there. And then, of course, there are those barrels, which can easily change a wine's entire character... but that's another story.

In the end, the fact that these producers are both open about what they are doing, and performing these activities in minimal doses, is something I can appreciate. But the next time you open a bottle, think about what is in there aside from naturally fermented grape juice - you might be surprised.

Last Stop Before Portland

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 17 Apr 2008 19:11:00 +0000

On April 15, while much of the country was preoccupied with taxes, I was more focused on wine. Not drinking wine (I only consumed beer that day), but TASTING wine. Not that I was doing any tasting either, mind you. April 15, 2008 marked my final trade portfolio tasting with Polaner Selections, where I have been overseeing events and marketing for the past few years.

My departure is bittersweet, as I have come to know and love the brilliant, talented team of individuals who make up the company. I came to Polaner with a quasi-professional wine resume (I had been teaching consumers and consulting since 1999), but with many years of experience in event planning and production. I was a fan of much of the portfolio, and, when the opportunity presented itself to become a professional advocate for these wines, I jumped. Over the last four years, my understanding of and appreciation for a wide range of wines and wine styles has developed, much of it thanks to the folks at Polaner.

Soon I start work at Triage Wines in the Pacific Northwest as the company’s Marketing Director. They work at a slightly different scale than I’ve been used to (see photo above), but I’m looking forward to the change (otherwise, why would I even consider a move from New York to Portland?). Fortunately, I’ll be in familiar territory, as much of the portfolios of Polaner and Triage overlap. I am looking forward to expanding my wine experiences in new directions as well… and developing new opportunities to teach and share my knowledge and skills with consumers and trade alike. Oregon, here I come.

Wine for All

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Tue, 11 Mar 2008 12:05:00 +0000

I recently participated in several large wine tastings attended by thousands of consumers and members of the wine trade. When not pouring wines, I took an opportunity to walk around and taste. There is a lot of wine in this world, and while I know many wines by reputation (or from long past experiences), I like to use these sorts of opportunities to be reminded of what is out there.

In the case of my recent experiences, I happy to say that there is a good deal of well made wine at all price points that are both varietally correct and filled with varying degrees of distinctive character. I am equally saddened to report that there is just as much boring, manipulated, over-extracted, and/or down-right unpleasant wine to be found these days.

But let's focus on the good. I am one to focus on the less championed, more bizzare things in life, so I was surprised to discover how much I appreciated the solid integrity of several "supermarket" wines I've tasted of late. It seems that someone in the vast cellars of these places got the memo that consumers are interested in some personality in their wines. Now, mind you, these are not superstars of the wine world, but the certainly are mass-produced wines with more integrity than I had previously given them credit. So here, in no particular order, are some "brands" worth a bit more consideration for those (like me) who might otherwise turn up your noses: Kendall Jackson, Columbia Crest, Penfolds, Bogle, Concha y Toro Casillero del Diablo, Geyser Peak. Not great wines, but not bad either. When you are in a pinch, and all other beverage options look equally as boring, consider one of these producers for a better experience than you might have expected at first.

WSJ's OTBN - A Reason to Open That Bottle

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Sun, 17 Feb 2008 15:06:00 +0000

We recently uncovered two bottles from our cellar which had been sitting there for a while, waiting to be “enjoyed.” In the spirit of The Wall Street Journal’s Open That Bottle Night we decided these wines should wait no longer. They’ve been sitting around a) for the right occasion and b) because they are not the sort of wines we typically drink. Nonetheless, we had been to a winter farmers’ market, and picked up two tasty looking grass-fed porterhouse steaks (something we don’t eat often) – which required wines like these. What were the wines? A 1985 Stag’s Leap Napa Cabernet Sauvignon and a 1993 Ridge Lytton Estate Zinfandel.

We’re not big fans of Cali Cab, but well structured wines with breeding for aging have proven useful tools with grilled steaks. As luck would have it, this was not a well structured wine – and the bottle had also likely been poorly treated (I found it in my parents’ basement a few years ago). It had fallen apart, with an unbalanced tendency toward “old wine” fruit flavors with little else to back it up.

Fortunately, Ridge saved the evening. Zinfandel is not known as a grape with solid aging potential, but Ridge has always proven to be an exception to most Zinfandel rules. I bought this on eBay many years ago before they outlawed private sales of wine. The bottle was handed off to my wife by the seller on a street corner in Manhattan. With a touch of Petit Sirah the wine had solid structure, great zin juiciness to pair with the tender, bleu steak, and it morphed nicely over the evening producing a hint of elegance by the end. Seriously, just a hint.

Neither wine has convinced me to change my Euro-traditional-focused drinking pattern, but it was fun to open them up and discover what was inside. So the next time you discover some old bottle you’ve been putting off, create a reason to open it up and discover what is inside.

Good Thing I like Pinot Noir!!!

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 13 Feb 2008 21:32:00 +0000

We’ve told our friends, and now my wife has publically announced it on her blog, so I guess it is time I did so as well. The winebaer (a.k.a. le loup) is westward bound. This May, after thirty-something years in New York, I’m heading to Portland, Oregon to explore a new lifestyle.

With the exception of my college years in “beautiful” Oberlin, Ohio, I have lived my entire life in and around New York City. My first career, in theatre and performing arts presenting, made NYC a natural place to want to be. New York has also been the ideal place to be since moving to the wine industry. It is, after all, the wine consumer capital of the world.

Nonetheless, as we’ve explored Portland over the last couple of years, we recognized that it offers a healthy amount of the elements we find most important in life – there is a wonderfully vibrant cultural scene, it’s a foodie haven, the town is pretty-darn wine-savvy, there are many – for the knitter in my life- top-notch yarn shops, and nature abounds all around.

We will naturally miss many things about New York, but to have never lived elsewhere for at least a few years, would be a big shame. We are very excited about our move… now we just need to find that perfect buyer for our lovely coop in Westchester. Any takers?

Clape On, Clape Off

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 06 Feb 2008 17:59:00 +0000

Last night Abby and I had another dinner at The Modern with some friendly folks in the wine business. The occasion gave us an opportunity share some great food, talk about the wine business, and, we thought, enjoy some tasty wine. We accomplished all three - but only to a point.

In plotting out our wine plans for the evening, we discussed the option of trying a wine from a great producer in an "off" vintage. Off vintages are ones where the weather conditions are such that wines can be tough to produce well. Too much rain, hail, heat, too little sunlight, or even the widespread introduction of some plant disease can all adversely affect a vintage. Talented winemakers have to make some tough choices in these years: either declassify or even sell off their wines or work hard to get around the problems that a vintage presents. Case in point, our choice for the night: Auguste Clape Cornas 2002. Clape is a benchmark producer for this Northern Rhone appellation - producing world class wines from Syrah. Since the late '80s, he and his son, Pierre-Marie, have been working together traditionally, using all used oak.

Our bottle, from 2002, was the result of a year that saw so much rain, that many vineyards, in areas just to the south of Cornas, were flooded, and entire crops were lost. Those producers who did produce in that year, turned out wines that were far less concentrated than normal (watered-down). Some wines proved to be thin and out of balance, while others were able to turn out some reasonably elegant wines.

When we first opened the Clape, we were all rather pleased with its gentle, pretty aromatics. It was a bit tight, but within about ten to fifteen minutes, it revealed some solid fruit flavors with great minerality and a hint of herbal character. The wine sat out, developing with the air, while we enjoyed our mighty tasty first courses - most of which were too delicate to have with Syrah. Occasionally revisiting the wine, it was clearly undergoing rapid change. By the arrival of our second course, however, the wine completely shut down. The aromatics were all but gone, and within a few more minutes, it had lost its fruit and was becoming totally herbal (and not in a good way).

Luckily, our dinner companion was also a wine producer, and, handily, had a delicious bottle of his South African Cabernet/Shiraz he had brought to share. It dutifully fulfilled its mission as a solid stand-in for a wine that had gone south far too quickly. The evening was saved (and we learned our lesson... experimenting with off vintages is a gamble which can provide great disappointments - but also great rewards).

Fishmongers, Fromagiers, and Wine Merchants

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Fri, 01 Feb 2008 19:38:00 +0000

Remember when Mario Batali used to host his instructional cooking show? He always used to tell his viewers to inquire with their local fishmonger about whatever seafaring item he was cooking that day. Of course, in this country, fishmongers are not all that common - particularly in the heartland. Neither are Fromagiers (though there are several popping up these days in major metropolitan areas). Wine Merchants, however, continue to thrive among food & drink specialists. But, with so many places to buy wine, how do you know where it's best to shop?

It may sound obvious, but I truly believe that wine merchants (and I'm making a distinction here from "liquor store" owners) should love to drink wine. Even before knowledge about the product, a merchant's enjoyment and enthusiasm for wine tops my list. But, of course, many enthusiasts stick to just one area of interest - so, in my mind, a good wine merchant needs to also be curious, open-minded, and willing to explore. This, I believe, will ultimately help them help their customers.
Price, selection, customer service, and knowledge are all important as well, though I might rank them in the reverse order.

KNOWLEDGE - This is a big word, which I intend to encompass lots of ground. Knowledge of the products they carry is one thing (It's great when wine merchants have tasted the vast majority of what they sell), but product knowledge in the context of the larger wine world is important as well. Knowing the range of styles, flavors, food-friendliness, and how or when to best enjoy certain wines is a tremendous skill that not enough merchants fully invest in. They should. They should also use better judgement in how they present and store wines while in their care. Bright, hot lights, major temperature fluctuation, and bottles standing-up for months at a time are signs that some merchants simply don't care (or know) enough.

SELECTION - I've worked with several wine shop (and restaurant) owners who insist that offering a wide range of Chardonnay, Pinot Grigio, and Cabernet (and now Pinot Noir) is all they need to focus on. The rest of the selection can be filled out with well know "other stuff" like Chianti, Australian Shiraz, and Sweet Riesling ('cuz Riesling is always sweet, right?). I was in one sorry shop a few years ago, where a big sign read "France," but a total of about a dozen bottles sat there - 6 different bottlings from a single BIG Burgundy negociant, several $7-12 Bordeaux, a bottle of Cotes du Rhone (produced by an American winery), and one lone bottle of white wine - a Sancerre. This approach is so unfortunate, but rather wide spread.

CUSTOMER SERVICE - Clearly this is a key to any successful business, yet I'm amazed at how few retailers actually care. After all, we've all been to those places where nobody is on the sales floor, and the one person who is around sits behind a counter reading a magazine - and is usually unable to answer any questions that you have anyway. But if simply being available and attentive to customers can improve their experience, imagine what things like accommodating special orders; providing wine education, tasting opportunities, and food-pairing suggestions; and offering local delivery can do.

PRICE - Offering a wide range of wines for a wide range of competitive prices is always a good idea... But even better is to offer value for price - after all, a $10 bottle of wine may be a low price, but a really delicious $10 wine is a great value.

WBW# 41 - Friuli-Venezia Giulia Whites

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Mon, 14 Jan 2008 18:10:00 +0000

This month's installment of Wine Blogging Wednesday is hosted by Jack & Joanne at Fork & Bottle. They sent participants on a mission to uncover examples of some of Italy's most distinctive white wines... those of the northeast region of Friuli-Venezia Giulia. Distinctive whites of Italy, you ask? You thought all Italian whites were thin, light, crisp, tart, and simple? Don't they all just taste like Pinot Grigio (which all tastes the same, anyway, right)? Well, in a word, NO! Italian whites often get undeservedly short shrifted. There are many brilliant examples of exciting, engaging whites from Italy - and chief among them may be those from Friuli-Venezia Giulia.

The region, borders the Italian state of Veneto, but more importantly it borders Austria and Slovenia. Throughout history, it has taken many cultural and culinary cues from these counties. During the 19th and 20th centuries, it also was influenced by French viticulture, supplementing many of the local indigenous varieties with plantings of Chardonnay, Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Blanc, Roesling, Cabernet (both Sauvignon & Franc), Merlot and others. Many of the wines of the region have a broader mouthfeel than you might expect from Italian whites. Some are aromatic, some are fleshy or creamy, and some are purposefully oxidized. These are wonderful food wines, and worth seeking out - particularly those made from the native varieties like Tocai Friulano (which will soon be officially known as Friulano), Malvasia Istriana, Ribolla Gialla, and Vitovska.

For my part of this monthly tasting, I chose the Vigna Traverso Ribolla Gialla 2006. The producer is reasonably young, having started in 1998, but they are growing some great fruit, and the wine, which I picked up for about $19, was beautifully aromatic (lemon and tart citrus fruits), texturally creamy with a tingly acidity, and fresh. At one point, I had the feeling I was licking the pith of a lemon (and liking it!). The Vigna Traverso was a starter wine for a dinner party that included several other delicious wines (produced by the likes of von Schubert, Grivot, Nicholas Joly, Lopez de Heredia, among others) and it kept pace with nearly all of the other wines that evening.

This is a region I've explored before, and will continue to. Many producers there are progressive (and even unique - Gravner & Radikon) and will deliver experiences unfamiliar to many. Thanks jack and Joanne for bringing me back to Friuli-Venezia Giulia.

Giving it Time

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 27 Dec 2007 22:25:00 +0000

You know what they say about first impressions - they are often misleading. Yet, most of us (including some "professional" wine critics) visit with a wine for such a short amount of time, that their first impression is often their only impression. Recently, my wife and I enjoyed some 2004 Bien Nacido Pinot Noir from Lane Tanner. I say we enjoyed "some," because the wine took a while to develop in the glass after we opened it. Tanner makes very non-California wines - somewhat austere to those who are used to rich, syrupy, bombastic Pinots. This wine rings in at 12.5% alc., making it much lighter than other producers' wines from the same vintage and the same vineyard. When we first opened the bottle, the wine was a combination of tartness and acidity, with very little fruit showing at all. Two hours later (yes, we slowly revisited it throughout the evening) it had turned into a pretty, well rounded wine, with much more backbone than it had started with.

I recently noticed Rusty Gafney's comments on how he tastes wine for his newsletter, PinotFile. "I taste Pinot Noir daily in a quiet home setting," he wrote. "The wines are sampled at cellar temperature and are usually tasted over a few hours both always without food and often with food in a relaxed atmosphere so as to replicate the consumer’s drinking experience." Now this is what I like to hear from someone who assesses wines - a careful, thoughtful look at a wine throughout various stages of its life after being opened. While other writers take this approach, it's clearly not as common as one would hope.

And when I'm pouring wine for consumers or professional wine buyers, I rarely see people take much time with the wine deserves before making their buying decisions. Granted, in those situations, the notion of "so much wine... so little time" is often quite true. All I am saying is that it's a shame so many of us leap to judgement when tasting - and miss out on the potential of a magical metamorphosis that some wine will display.

Farmers, Artists, Trailblazers, Winemakers

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 19 Dec 2007 20:43:00 +0000

A few days after Thanksgiving 2007, I read Joe Dressner's tribute to his friend André Iché, owner and winemaker at Chateau d'Oupia. I met Iché a couple of times at portfolio tastings, and have known and enjoyed his wonderful, character-filled, affordable wines for several years. His passing reminded me that many people in business of making wine are true farmers, passionate about their land, and masters at the artistry of growing grapes and blending wines.

I recently finished reading the updated, re-released "The Heartbreak Grape" by Marq de Villiers about the California Pinot Noir pioneer, Josh Jensen of Calera. Jensen returned to his native California after learning the ropes of Pinot production at Domaine Romanee-Conti. He invested a great deal of time, energy, and money in finding and producing world-class Pinot Noir from high-elevation limestone vineyards. His is a great story of passion, dedication, and ultimately, success. I had the chance to participate in a horizontal tasting Jensen conducted in NYC in early December, and am glad to see that his wines are still very much distinctive and exciting (after a bit of a lull a few years ago).

I've just finished reading Paul Pintarich's "The Boys Up North," about the pioneering winemakers in Oregon. It amazes me what some of these guys did: bucking trends, ignoring people who told them wine grapes could not grow in Oregon, all while living in trailers and tents on their farms and often maintaining full time jobs in Portland to pay the bills. From their start in the 1960s, these "boys" established a wine industry in Oregon, which now numbers over 300 wineries.

All this goes to show that there are real people behind the wines we drink. Sometimes they are operating machinery, removed by technology from the wine itself; but often they are getting dirty in the vineyard and rolling up their sleeves in the cellar, with a passion and mission behind their actions. I like to think there is a great personal story that goes with every bottle I drink - and learning those stories can be pretty inspiring.

WBW #40 - Petite Sirah

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 06 Dec 2007 19:26:00 +0000

This month's Wine Blogging Wednesday is hosted by Megan, the Wannabe Wino. I guess the downright cold temperatures (at least here in the northeast United States) seem fitting for her topic: Petite Sirah. Genetically unrelated to Syrah (or Shiraz to those who prefer the South African/Aussie name inspired by the Mesopotamian city where the variety is believed to have originated), Petite Sirah has been confused for that variety as well as a few others, before some DNA profiling determined it was "probably" related or cloned from the French Rhone varieties Durif or Peloursin.

In any case, it can be found throughout warm climate growing regions in the Americas - most notably in Argentina and California (where there are approximately 4,000 acres planted - some quite old). It's been used as a blending agent for Zin, Cab, and others in order to bulk up or darken the color of those wines, but seems to have found a following as the lead variety in recent years. Examples I've encountered have ranged from surprisingly pretty (as produced by Fleur de California) to inky and intense (in the hands of the likes of Ridge). Though I first tasted the variety on its own about 10 years ago at Foppiano, it's not the sort of thing I spend too much time pursuing or drinking, so this was an opportunity for me to get reacquainted.

I unearthed a forgotten bottle from the back of my cellar of Eaglepoint Ranch Petite Sirah 2001 from California's Mendocino County. The vineyard, with it's considerable elevation (1800 ft), can certainly be considered a place of cool climate viticulture - though few will admit it, most of California isn't so cool.

Eaglepoint Ranch is a vineyard which makes its own wines, but also contracts to sell grapes to other producers. It is a partnership between Mendocino viticulturist Casey Hartlip and John Scharffenberger. If that second name sounds familiar, it should. Scharffenberger is also the mind behind terrific, affordable California sparkling-wine as well as some pretty darn special chocolate. His family bought Eaglepoint ranch back in 1973 and planted it a couple of years later with Zinfandel. These days they are also growing Petite Sirah, Grenache, Syrah, and most recently they started producing Albarino.

Like other wines I've had from Eaglepoint Ranch, this wine has a pretty darn chewy texture with very concentrated dark fruit and earth flavors and a whole bunch of tannins even after a few years in bottle. I bought it about four years ago, so I'm not certain of the exact cost... but some research suggests it must have been something in the low twenties.

Bottom line: I liked the wine very much for its distinctive character and impressive heft, but ultimately, it's not the kind of wine I can enjoy more than a glass of in one sitting - a bit too rich for me. Instead, I'd probably work my way up to it allowing it to appear only at the point that an equally hefty piece of red meat was available to keep it company at the table.

'Tisn't Really My Kind of Season

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 29 Nov 2007 13:35:00 +0000

It's that time of year again. Non-stop parties, glutinous gatherings, and, of course, wine events galore. These days I find myself invited to or pouring at some pretty opulent, ostentatious, and downright rowdy wine-themed corporate and consumer events. It seems to me a natural extension of our society of consumerism and excess - and I have a love hate relationship with it all.

I certainly love any opportunity to spread a bit of knowledgeable enjoyment of wine... but the activity at this time of year is too darn concentrated over just a few crazed weeks - and many participants show up at these things more for the buzz than for any other reason. I miss those simple, casual days of summer sipping, like the wonderful midtown Manhattan event I attended about ten years ago called "Rooftop Riesling." The event was just as (and where) you might expect. It was a simple, joyous celebration of a single variety accompanied by some downright tasty summertime eats (I'm probably wrong, but my mind tells me there was spit-roasted pork involved somehow).

I'm not a big fan of Garrison Keillor, but it's times like this season of making far too merry that I pine for the simplicity of a Lake Wobegon wine tasting. That sure sounds good to me right about now.

Whence I Came - A Baer Family Thanksgiving

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 21 Nov 2007 19:54:00 +0000

My interest in wine has really always been about my interest in food. I first started drinking wine at the dinner table, and have found it much less appealing as a cocktail proxy, being slowly slurped on its own. My first wine affair was with the wines of Germany, soon followed by wines from the Loire, and reds from Burgundy. I'm an old-world kinda guy, when it comes to wine, finding a lot of wines from modernists in Europe, the Americas, down-under, and elsewhere to tend in another direction from my tastes (many exceptions exist, of course).

As my wine exposure has broadened, I've been lucky enough to taste LOTS of different grape varieties and styles of production. A few years ago, I even joined Steve De Long's fledgling Wine Century Clu b, where, in a blind tasting at one of their events, I inexplicably tied with the venerable Robin Garr for first place. I've become a fan of Fresia, benefited from more than one Bobal, and taken many a dip in the Picpoul. But for tomorrow's family gathering, it's back to my wine roots.

This year, we are preparing a pan-Asian themed feast as designed by the kitchen at Gourmet Magazine. The labor has been divided between a few parties. The meal's centerpiece will be an Indian-Spiced Roasted Turkey surrounded by various side dishes from pickled vegetables to Japanese Sweet Potatoes with scallion butter. With all the Asian spice in the air, this meal is gonna be screaming for some honest, food-friendly, slightly perfumed wine... and I can't think of a better pairing than some Riesling, Chenin Blanc, and some simple, juicy Pinot Noir.

Have a Happy Turkey Day Everyone.
_____

Postscript (11/23): The wines we drank...
1) Villa Rinaldi Rose Rosa Metodo Classico Brut NV - a deliciously crisp 100% Pinot Nero from Itlay's Veneto
2) Eugen Muller Forster Jesuitengarten Riesling Kabinett Trocken 2005 - dry, beautifully spiced wine from Germany's Pfalz
3) Paul Anhaeuser Kreuznacher Krotenpfuhl Riesling Auslese 2001 - richer, sweeter, but, alas, corked... from Germany's Nahe
4) Kalin Cellars Sonoma County Chardonnay Cuvee LD 1994 - that's right, 1994, the producer's current release
5) Jacky Truchot Morey-St-Denis 2005 - this Cote d'Or village wine is from a producer we love, who makes pure, traditional, delicious Pinot Noir. Sadly, as his children are not interested in taking over the family business, 2005 was Truchot's last vintage.

(I never did break out that Chenin I had promised)

WBW #39 - Silver Burgundy

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Tue, 13 Nov 2007 15:31:00 +0000

This month's Wine Blogging Wednesday is being hosted by Brooklynguy. His topic of choice is what he calls "Silver Burgundy," that is to say, the wine producing regions south of of the famed Cote d'Or (gold slope). Most of the production in the region (made up of both the Cote Chalonnaise and the Maconnais) is based on the same two grape varieties - Chardonnay and Pinot Noir - that produce the great wines of the Cote d'Or. Silver Burgundy can often be more affordable, and in favorable vintages, can churn out some terrific wines. In fact, many young, talented producers, having been priced out of the Cote d'Or, have been raising the bar on production here with distinctive, classy wines. I know this to be the case, as I've enjoyed many of them over the years... sad to say, the two wines I chose for WBW were less than great.

I decided to try both a white and red wine, and my wife and I worked out a meal for the two, based on what I knew of them. Our Chardonnay came from the well respected village of Rully, which is among a few villages located on a continued section of limestone soil extending south from the Cote du Beaune. The wine, Jaeger Defaix Rully Rabouce 1er Cru 2005, is produced by a family based in Chablis, who inherited the land a few years back and started production in 2004. The was quite distinctive, quartz-like minerality, darn ripe fruit, but fermented VERY dry. It was pretty tight too, leaving me with the impression that a bit more time would allow it to strut its stuff more. I'm pretty sure that some oysters would have been a better match than the scallops I had made (the meat of the scallops was too sweet for the wine), but nothing could have helped that fact that the wine had a faint, but persistent corkiness to it. How sad.

I had high hopes that the second wine would overcome the (slight) disappointment of the first. Paired with a simple herb-roasted chicken, butternut squash, and truffled mushrooms, we drank Les Champs de l'Abbaye Cotes du Couchois "Les Clos" 2005 from Alain and Isabelle Hasard. On paper, the producer seems to be doing lots of things right: dense planting, biodynamic farming, selective hand-harvesting, a second triage at the cellar, etc. The Hasards do a maceration of 6 to 10 days to extract color and flavor. Their goal is a wine of extreme concentration and elegance. In order to help achieve this they employ up to 60% new oak. I'm not sure if it was the soak time or the wood, but this wine was among some of the most tannic Pinot Noir (not a grape known for tannin) I've encountered from France. The fruit was certainly present, and a noticeable dry autumn leaf character was lurking in the background, but the tannin issue was too distracting. In an effort to give the wine the benefit of the doubt, I retasted it the following morning, finding the dryness of the tannins to have subsided a bit, but not appreciably.

This experience in no way diminishes my appreciation for "Silver Burgundy." These were two solid wines, where the producers clearly made decisions about what they were after and how they planned to get there. True, I didn't love either one all that much, and having spent $21 (Jaeger Defaix) and $26 (Hasard), it's reasonable to say that, while they may well be low-priced for Burgundy, neither is a great value in the greater wine world. Nonetheless, I do plan to seek out another bottle from Jaeger Defaix at some point... and, with a better take on their style, find a better pairing.

More Odd Wine... and I Love It!

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Mon, 29 Oct 2007 17:02:00 +0000

On a recent Friday night, my wife and I had some friends over to chat about life, careers, their upcoming wedding, food, and, of course wine. We put out a spread of Italian cheese and salumi - and ended up drinking a bunch of French wines. First off was a dry, slightly austere, sparkling Chenin Blanc from the Touraine, followed by some '06 Thivin Côte de Brouilly, a Bourgogne Rouge... and, finally, alongside some dry-pan-roasted mussels, sprinkled simply with black pepper, a 1997 Philippe Vandelle "L'Etoile" Vin Jaune.

Vin Jaune, you ask? This article in the New York Times and another, much more in-depth, piece in The Art of Eating, turned me on to the wonders of this wine. Made from the Savignin grape, the wine is very nutty, much like sherry, complex and really rather yummy. Shortly after reading the two articles last year, I picked up several bottles of both red and white from the Jura region (near the French Alps, south of Geneva, Switzerland). While many of the area's reds (made from Poulsard, Trousseau, and Pinot Noir for example) are enjoyed young(ish), Vin Jaunes are best enjoyed after considerable aging. Most bottles I got came from the 2000-2002 vintages.

Fortunately, my wife's cousin was doing an internship with a snowboard design firm in the region, and offered to bring something "local" back for us. While I would have loved for her to smuggle in some raw milk cheese, I (half jokingly) asked her for some Vin Juane... and she delivered! She brought back a bottle of 1997 wine from L'Etoile, located slightly south of the more famous Arbois. It was a real treat - nutty, deep, rich - but not too thick, balanced with wonderful acidity, and, overall, a perfect foil/mate for those smoky mussels.

These kinds of wines are not available everywhere - and are certainly not for everyone (in fact most people, even most French, will find them a bit weird)... but if you are adventuresome or curious, check 'em out.

Is it Really 10 Times Better?

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Fri, 12 Oct 2007 16:22:00 +0000

At an event I did for a client recently, I brought a wine that I had been eager to taste. The wine was priced at about ten times the least expensive wine on the table and almost three times the most expensive wine. I planted it, unbeknownst to my client, alongside the other wines and refused to answer any questions about wine prices until everything was tasted. When the tasting was completed, I shared the various prices with the group. The outcome of this experiment was that most people didn't notice a marked difference in quality between Wine X and the others. The lesson, I suggested, is that, when chosen skillfully, wine of substance and character can be found at many different price points.

Wines are priced based on a great many factors. Production costs, which include land, labor, barrels and other equipment, are a major factor, but don't make up the entire picture. Other factors can include marketing and branding costs, vine yield (determined both naturally or by dropping fruit to concentrate flavor in fewer berries), perceived quality in the marketplace (when was the last time you encountered a "cheap" wine from Champagne?), and, of course, supply and demand.

Given the high cost of land and labor (among other things) in the United States' best known wine growing regions, domestic values can be hard to come by. Elsewhere in the world, these costs are often much lower (save vineyards in famous regions like Burgundy), and there are even sometimes government subsidies in place to support agricultural enterprises - grape growers are framers, after all. Also, many producers around the world grow grape varieties that are not as well known as the big sellers in the USA... and, therefore, sometimes need to compete on price in order to get the consumer's attention.

So don't judge a wine by its price. It's been rare for me to encounter a $100 bottle that's been 10 times better than a $10 bottle. For help finding quality wines at lower prices (or avoiding high priced/overpriced ones) ask a wine profession you trust - I bet they'd be happy to help (I know I am)!

No Room for Mediocrity

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 04 Oct 2007 17:28:00 +0000

The other day, I participated in a tasting of Madeira dating back to the 1900 vintage. This was an event that I helped put together for the fine folks at Polaner Selections, where I work. Following the tasting, a friend and I planned to catch up over some snacks and wine... but in midtown Manhattan at 4:30pm, pickin's can be slim. We headed up to the Time Warner Center, where he had yet to visit, and took a booth at Landmarc. I had certainly read my share of less-than-positive comments about the place (it has over-reached in replicating its smaller downtown location; the wine list, while well priced, is pretty boring), but I figured it couldn't be THAT bad... and, in truth, it wasn't - but it wasn't that good either.

We spent an hour-plus chatting over burnt bread, decent bone marrow, and sweetbreads with a thick and tasty sauce. Our wine was an incredibly uninspired Gigondas from 2003, which was flat and lacking in acidity (a problem that year in the Rhone). The service was accommodating and pleasant, but, ultimately preoccupied with their own vanity. All in all, we agreed that we were glad to have had the experience for ourselves, but given the opportunity, neither of us would be returning. Afterwards, we headed down to 24th street to check out the new, nearly SRO bar, El Quinto Pino, opened by the Tía Pol team...

To our delight, they had a tiny space for the two of us to perch, while we enjoyed some dry sherry and cold tapas (white anchovies, pig ear salad). We saw that they offered the 1999 La Rioja Alta Viña Ardanza (one of the few remaining Rioja traditionalists) by the half bottle. We got some garbanzo beans and spinach as well as some shrimp and garlic, and enjoyed the beautiful wine and great lively atmosphere of the small, bright room. With a genuine and engaging staff, a cool but tiny wine list, and yummy small plates, El Quinto Pino saved the day.

Why Have I Never Cared About Bordeaux?

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Tue, 25 Sep 2007 14:39:00 +0000

As I poked around in the cellar last night, looking for something to pour alongside the rack of lamb we'd planned for dinner, I was struck by the fact that there's not, and never has been, much Bordeaux in my wine life. Curious, that! Bordeaux, after all, is considered one of the greatest wine producing regions in all the world. It has been the paradigm for Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot based wines the world over. But I've never been able to embrace it the way I have so many other wine regions and styles. Why not? First, we don't eat tons of red meat in our home, so wines displaying a) power and b) big tanins are not typically appropriate. Second, the flavors tend to be less appealing to me - too deep, perhaps - and that leather, tobacco, pencil lead thing isn't really my cup of tea (or glass of wine, for that matter.

Among the three Bordeaux options I encountered in the cabinet (and the one we decided to open) was a 1995 Chateau Gruaud Larose - a 2nd Grand Cru classé from a well regarded vintage. It can still be found in retail shops for as little as $60 (though we got it as a gift several years ago). The wine was certainly elegant, with a combination of cooked dark fruit, a bit of coffee, a very animale character (which echoed the meat rather nicely) and relaxed tanin from mild toasted oak, which was offset by the lamb. The wine was a good choice for the meal, but not one I'd soon repeat, given the many other options out there... probably a $15-20 Chinon (100% Cab Franc), next time. Incidentally, compared to today's Napa Cabs at 15+% alcohol, the alcohol here was a beautiful 12.5%.

The Right Way To Enjoy Wine?

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Thu, 20 Sep 2007 17:32:00 +0000

I hosted a tasting not too long ago, where participants were more concerned with "getting it right," than with simply enjoying themselves. Where they drinking from the right kind of glass; did they buy the right vintage of XYZ Wine; was it the right time to drink the wine; Where they eating the right food for that wine?

It seems that, in recent years, while consumers have caught the wine bug, they haven't noticed that wine professionals have been trending in the less-snooty, more geeky direction. Today's twenty-something, hipster sommeliers, for example, would never be caught with a tastevin, but would most certainly try to talk you into their latest "cool" discovery from Kremstal, Austria. Consumers should take this cue and relax about their wine experiences... er, enjoyment. The problem is, too many people don't recognize it as enjoyment, but rather as the development of a technical skill or proficiency in an academic subject. This needs to stop.

Another problem is that in my capacity as wine "educator," my "students" expect to learn the rights and wrongs, the dos and don'ts of wine. My advice to them is that there is only one rule in my book: THERE ARE NO RULES. To best enjoy wine, they need to think outside the box, experiment, explore, discover, and withhold prejudice. You don't need to be an expert in order to know if you like a wine. So relax, drink from a paper cup, and ENJOY!

WBW #37 - Indigenous Varieties

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 12 Sep 2007 21:08:00 +0000

For a final summer fling, the knitter and I took a week-long trip to beautiful, historic, Portsmouth, NH, where we rented an apartment in a former (18th century) warehouse overlooking the harbor. I knew of only two things that were certain to happen on our trip: 1) I would finally come through on my promise to my wife that I'd learn how to knit, and 2) I would be bringing my Wine Blogging Wednesday homework with me. This month, Dr. Vino gave us our assignment to taste and write about indigenous grape varieties. That is to say, wines from grape varieties of limited production, that are not world famous, and have an historical connection to the land on which they have been growing for a very long time. I loaded up my wine bag with several candidates, and set out for vacation.

En route to New Hampshire, we dined at Boston's Toquet, where we enjoyed a lovely meal alongside a delicious bottle of Huards Cour Cheverny 2002 (made from Romorantin, and tasting of lemon peel and slate) and another bottle of bombastic, brash, yet surprisingly balanced Mollydooker "The Boxer" Shiraz 2006 - 'cuz, well, I just wanted to know what all the fuss was about. We finished the former, and left half of the latter for our service staff to enjoy. Our second night in Boston, we had a fine, albeit somewhat less fabulous meal at a place called Bin 26... which we opted to visit after being ignored by the overwhelmed staff at another restaurant owned by the same people a block away. There, we encountered (and enjoyed more than the food) a Movia Ribolla 2004 made from vines as old as 80 years, and aged in neutral oak for a couple of years. The Ribolla (a.k.a. Ribolla Gialla just over the border in Friuli, Italy) comes from one of the best regarded producers in Brda, Slovenia. The wine was texturally rich and a curious and enjoyable combination of fruit, soil, and herbs.

In Portsmouth, we returned to a restaurant we had enjoyed on a previous visit (the name had changed, the chef had not) called Black Trumpet. Though I still had plenty of options in my wine bag, I decided to keep exploring restaurant wine lists in the hopes of making one more discovery. We did!!! From the owner of the famed and incredibly expensive Domaine de la Romanée–Conti, a much more affordable option presented itself: The A & P de Villaine Bouzeron 2005. Aside from Chardonnay in Burgundy, limited amounts of two other white varieties can be found: Sauvignon Blanc is planted near Chablis, and the grape that made this wine, Aligoté, can be found in the south. The village of Bouzeron, just north of Rully, is perhaps where the best versions can be found. Known for its high acidity, Aligoté was historically blended with cassis to create the aperitif Kir (Kir Royale is made with Champagne). The wine was rather crisp, dry, and floral, with subtle fruit and a solid mineral structure. As you can imagine, we ate a good deal of fish and seafood thus far.

Finally onto one of the wines I had schlepped up from New York... a Jacquére! We had rented an apartment, after all, and had intended to cook most of the time we were away - budget vacation. With a plate full of fresh lobster ravioli from Terra Cotta Pasta, across the harbor in Kittery, ME, we enjoyed a mighty tasty Jacquére from producer Jean-Claude Masson in France's Savoie. The wine, his 2006 Cuvee Nicolas, is produced from high altitude, old (100 years plus) vines. Masson has a 9 hectare estate in the appellation of Apremont, the largest AC in Savoie. He makes 10 different cuvées from 10 different parcels of vineyards. The soil in the vineyards is made of the rubble left by the collapse of the peak of Mont Granier in 1248; it is a mix of chalk, marne and and stony rubble. All of the wines of the AC Apremont are made from the varietal Jacquère, which was surprisingly similar to the Aligoté we had enjoyed the night before. This wine, however, was much more texturally rich, and a real sense of alpine air about it. I found it to be delicious (and in the spirit of full disclosure, should also mention that it is imported by my employer, Polaner Selections).

The lesson to be taken from my posting (along with the dozens of others, who have, no doubt, also offered their experiences up to blog audiences) is that you don't need to know the grape to enjoy the wine. There are thousand of grape varieties out there (around 2000 in Italy alone) that most of us have and will never come across. My goal is to try to encounter as many as possible... and, as a certified member of the Wine Century Club, I'm well on my way!

Me Loves Dolcetto

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Fri, 31 Aug 2007 15:52:00 +0000

While many of my wine-loving friends (and clients) continue to subscribe to the notion that "bigger is better," I'm perfectly happy with flavors that I can enjoy with the more subtle foods I tend to eat. That's one reason I find Dolcetto so appealing. I recently had a bottle of 2005 Siri D'Jermu Dolcetto di Dogliani from the Pecchenino brothers, Orlando and Attilio. While a bit riper than other Dolcettos (especially those from Alba), this wine is simply delicious.

Dolcetto is one of the less obscure varieties found in Italy's Piedmonte region. It is often said that in Piedmont, they MAKE Barolo & Barbaresco, but DRINK Barbera and Dolcetto. I certainly understand why - first, both Barbera and Dolcetto can be enjoyed much earlier in life than Nebbiolo (the grape of both Barolo & Barbaresco), and, second, they both offer a wide range of food accessibility, a trait I value in quality wine.

For years, I've considered Barbera my go-to grape for all tomato-based sauces. Dolcetto came into the picture more recently for me, and has been welcomed to my table all four months of the year with a wide range of foods. Variations of the grape have expressed everything from blueberries to sweet baking spices, and have been winning wines and great values far more often than not. My advice: find a Dolcetto, chill it down a bit, and slup it up with your next dinner.

Great Wine can be Pointless

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Mon, 20 Aug 2007 18:13:00 +0000

I was thumbing through The New York Times recently, looking at the film review, and thought to myself 'this would be a lot easier if, like every other publication, they would just assign stars or some other rating shorthand, so I wouldn't waste my time reading a bad review.' Common sense, right? Well, maybe not. I love the quick and easy summaries that such rating systems can afford, but by using them as my only guide, I am doing the reviewer and the reviewed as disservice. After all, isn't knowing the full details within any review going to lead to a better decision on my (the consumer's) part?

That's certainly how I feel about wine ratings - especially the completely non-scientific 100 point scale. Wine reviews have done a lot to help sell wine and promote some lesser known producers who work without any marketing budget. They are a necessary evil part of my day job, where I promote the wines my company sells by sharing any press our wines get to our customers. And consumers can benefit, too, if they find their own taste is aligned with that of a specific critic. But it is not my intention to discuss the possitives and negatives of wine reviews today...

Instead, my mind has run off in a completely different direction, and I need to go with it: There are some wines - often GREAT wines that do not get covered by the critics. Until recently, for example, the Loire Valley was not on anyone's regular reviewing beat - likewise producers from Oregon, Long Island, Slovenia, and other regions of high quality wine production. Why? Well there's just too much wine to be able to cover - much of it with very limited distribution. So why would any critic devote much ink to wines their readers wouldn't have any chance of encountering? Sure, the same could be said for marquis and cult producers like DRC or Sin Que Non, but wines like those also need a consitent "reality check" to justify their prices.

I was thinking about all of this the other night when I enjoyed a few "pointless" wines with dinner - one from Long Island's great experimental producer, Channing Daughters, and another from the king of Arbois, Jacques Puffeney. Neither of these producers get much press coverage, and the wines I enjoyed were not scored by anyone. But both were fresh, nicely structured, food-friendly, well balanced, and, well, delicious. I didn't need any critic to tell me that I'd enjoy these - and certainly didn't need them to assign numbers to these wines.

Damn You, Frank Schoonmaker!!

noreply@blogger.com (David Baer) — Wed, 15 Aug 2007 20:40:00 +0000

I blame Frank Schoonmaker for making wine enjoyment so freakin' difficult. That's not completely fair, but he did have a lot to do with the American obsession with THE GRAPE. When I teach wine consumers, one of the first things I tell them is to forget about the grape. We have become fixated on grape varieties, and it was all Schoonmaker's doing.

A college dropout, Frank traveled to Europe and started writing guides on sites and restaurants. While in Paris, he made friends with Raymond Baudoin, editor of La Revue du Vin de France, and began his discovery of the world of fine wine. Together, the two of them influenced many changes in the wine world, most notably in Burgundy, where they helped develop the concept of estate bottling (prior to their involvement, most wine was sold in bulk to shippers and negociants). Schoonmaker developed some great relationships with a number of top grower/producers, and, following the repeal of prohibition in the U.S., began to import wines. It was easier said than done, though, as he needed to start educating American consumers about wine if he was going to be able to sell much of it.

The 1930s were growth years for new wine importers in New York; Frederick Wildman had begun an association with Bellows & Company, and he would later start up his own company; Julian Street and George Sumner were assembling their European contacts, and Schoonmaker was beginning to realize one of his own biggest shortcomings: he could select wine much better than he could sell it. Then along came a young Russian émigré named Alexis Lichine, an entrepreneur who had supported himself by running guided bus tours through Paris; he spoke several different languages and was already quite knowledgeable about wine. Schoonmaker interviewed Lichine for a job as national sales manager, and hired him shortly thereafter.

This was the start of a truly great alliance good one. Lichine was an ideal salesman, and opened up valuable new markets all over the country for the firm. Their company's expansion ultimately brought them to California, where in the late 1930s the industry was only just beginning to recover from prohibition. There was talk of war in Europe, and if that proved to be true, Schoonmaker’s business would ultimately have to draw from another source. Schoonmaker and Lichine visited several California properties, and convinced the owners to label their wines after the grape varieties that made the wines, rather than generics names like “chablis” or “burgundy,” which had been the practice for over a century. They suggested that only quality estates in California were planted in these noble varieties, and as they proliferated, so would the need to identify them without generic labeling. There was just the question of what to call these wines. Schoonmaker and Lichine decided to call them “varietals” – although it is not clear which of the two actually thought up the term. Wente (in Livermore Valley) was the first success. By changing the name of their best white from Graves to Sauvignon Blanc, Schoonmaker sold several times as much wine as before – and now they were being distributed in the east, an entirely new market.

But here's the rub... we have now become reliant on knowing the grape variety, which has become far more important to consumers than the wine style. Sure, I can say I love Riesling, but not all Riesling is the same. What I really love is crisp, mineral-laden wines that are, at once refreshing and a bit complex too. The fact that many are made from Riesling is beside the point - they could just as well be made from Sauvignon Blanc, Chenin Blanc, Albarino, or even Rolle. Taste with an open mind, and don't be so concerned about the grape.

And forgive me, Mr. Schoonmaker, you actually did contribute a lot to the enjoyment of wine... most of which I don't find frustrating at all.