Weekly Wine Online

Iberia: def. peninsula between the Mediterranean & the Atlantic occupied by Spain & Portugal

Verve: def. the spirit and enthusiasm animating artistic composition or performance

This past weekend, I found myself drinking wine up in Seattle, Washington. And while I was situated right close to the Columbia Valley, it was the Iberian Peninsula that found its way into my arms, and onto my palate for that matter.

After a meal out in the Columbia City neighborhood of Seattle, friends and I cozied up in Verve Wine Bar and Cellar. We were the only ones in the bar, so Jeff, bartender extraordinaire, spent time answering our questions about the wines and tasting us on all kinds of delicacies. I tried a range of wines from Syrah and to Baco Noir, but what impressed me the most were the wines he poured for us from Spain and Portugal.

I started the night with a Tempranillo that blew my mind: Abadia Retuerta Seleccíon Especial, a red wine from Sardon del Duero in the Castilla y Leon region of Spain. The nose rang out with blueberries and blackberries, salt and dried cherries. On the palate were the same dried cherries, with nutmeg, cinnamon and toast to accompany them. The wine was exquisite.

Upon Jeff’s recommendation, the friend to my right ordered the 1979 Don PX Gran Reserva from Bodegas Toro Albala dessert wine from Spain. This sandalwood-colored wine is actually made from the Pedro Xim é nez grape in southeast Spain, the prime dessert-wine making region of Spain (hence the “PX” on the label). As we watched our friend's face light up in wonderment, we all began requesting sips, and glasses quickly were passed up and down the bar. My tasting notes echo my instant reaction:

“HOLY MOLY!”

The wine tasted like toffee, caramel and candied apples all in one. When describing the Pedro Ximénez wines, WineGeeks.com writes the following:

“… in the south of Spain, the dried P.X. grapes are vinified and then aged in barrel for many years and produce fortified wines of considerable character and sweetness. Citrus fruit notes are common in the dry style but the fortified versions can be heavy with figs, dates, molasses and coffee.”

In other words: Holy Moly!

Since we were all oohing and ahhing over our friend’s PX wine, Bartender Jeff started pulling out more dessert wines. The one that found its way into my hands was the 1996 Broadbent Colheita Madeira. The nose gave off vanilla bean and a little salt while the palate had flavors of lemon and orange peels. With surprisingly fresh acidity and caramel dreaminess, it made for the perfect finish to an exquisite evening, and I went to bed dreaming sweet dreams having fully felt the verve of Iberia.

Other great write-ups about Spanish dessert wines and Madeira:

Basic Juice (a piece all about Sherry)

MadeiraBlog (all about Madeira)

Where to Buy:

Wine.com - Abadia Retuerta Seleccíon Especial

Broadbent-Wines.com - Broadbent Colheita Madeira 1996

K&L Wines - Don PX 1979

Verve Wine Bar and Cellar (for all 3 wines)

Have you ever crushed on a fellow or lady-love for ages, only to be disappointed when, eight years into your pining you finally land a date with them and discover that they are really just a drunk that you and your dad have to schlep home at the end of the night because they pass out on your parents sofa while you run upstairs to change your shoes?

Okay, so maybe that hasn’t happened to you in that exact sequence of events. But I bet something of the sort has. And if you’ve tasted a lot of wine, I bet you’ve found the same thing to be true.

For years and years, I’d heard about Santa Barbara Pinot Noirs. While I’m slightly embarrassed to say that I haven’t (yet) seen the movie, Sideways, people have talked about it enough for me to get the basic gist that, according to this movie, Santa Barbara Pinot Noirs are Where It’s At. Well let me tell you that my 8-year crush (lets just call him Pedro to save him the embarrassment, though I doubt he’ll find his way to this page – at least I hope not!), Pedro, the gent who I crushed over in the classroom, on the playing field, always from afar, is my Santa Barbara Pinot.

So it started out innocently enough: I went to the wine store and perused the Santa Barbara Pinot section. I picked out a mid-priced Pinot with a smart-looking label: a 2006 Huber Santa Rita Pinot Noir for $38. It seemed like a safe bet.

We then headed over the house of friend who has a mini-wine society into which she was inviting us… and we were very excited. We arrived and began sipping a lovely 2006 Central Coast Chardonnay by Wild Horse, and all was bliss. With this refreshing start, I figured it could only get better.

Into a brown paper bag went our darling 2006 Huber. Next to it were four other sheathed bags from which we all began to taste. And my immediate reaction as one after another was poured: Cherry Bomb. Cherry bomb, cherry bomb, cherry bomb. It was like licking sour-patch cherry candy for hours. My tongue even started to feel a little rubbed raw by all the sour cherry acidity. As each glass was poured, I kept waiting for our Huber, which it turned out was, indeed, my favorite of the bunch. But even the Huber greeted us with a modified cherry bomb. Cherry bombs all night.

Needless to say, I was immensely relieved to have a glass of water and some dinner, followed by a Sauternes, for I was eager to dispense of the sour cherry havoc wrought on my tongue. And like darling Pedro of the high school please-date-me days, I am glad to say that my intrigue has passed. Pedro and Santa Barbara Pinots, as lovely as they are from afar, can have each other. Its back to Burgundy and Northern Cali for me.

The Santa Barbara Pinot Noirs tasted, in order of preference:

Huber Cellars

2006, Santa Rita Hills, 14.6% alcohol - $38
Nose: Cherry juice.
Palate: Lemony zest. Lovely. Leather, chives. Cherry!

Siduri

2004, Santa Rita Hills, 14.2% alcohol - $34
Color: Looks unfiltered.
Nose: Sunny earth. Carrot juice. Hot, too. Tastes like cranberry from Thanksgiving with cucumber.
Palate: Supply sweetness. Cherry. Mint/eucalyptus. Very pretty. Slightly spicy.

Taz Vineyards

2006, Santa Barbara, 14.5% alcohol - $21
Nose: Bright maraschino cherry and cranberry juice. Sour cherry.
Palate: Bright and tangy. Dusty. Nutmeg. Hot with alcohol! Tastes like it toasted in the sun.

Melville

2006, Santa Rita Hills, 15.1% alcohol – $38
Nose: Strawberry and cherry. A little mint.
Palate: Cherry bing! Sweet cherry syrup. Gentle. Classic and obviously well-made, but kind of boring.

LaFond

2006, Santa Rita Hills, 13.8% alcohol - $25
Nose: Very hot. Pasta-smell. Big, red cherry jam.
Palate: Tangy, hot. Cherry juice. “Very fast,” according to my date. Agreed. Just okay. Cherry-lemon juice. NOT complex.

Chardonnay mentioned (and my very favorite wine of the night):

Wild Horse

2006 Chardonnay, Paso Robles
Nose: Lemony vanilla. Smells like French oak. Orangeade.
Palate: Lemony freshness. Great, oaky finish. Just beautiful! Lovely earth.

The following is an article I wrote back in October 2007 for Bottlenotes, but I thought I'd revive it here since this wine just keeps getting better and better!

Ever heard of a cult New Zealand Bordeaux Blend? Neither had I until recently.

Meet Destiny Bay.

Destiny Bay, despite its sticky-sweet name, is a beautiful wine that is only going to become greater as it ages, the demand of which will also likely increase especially considering the very limited production of less than 3000 cases a year. Partner Mark Feldman, describes Mike Spratt, the winemaker, as the epitome of obsession, turning his wine habit into perfection.

Mike and Mark are best friends, first meeting while working in Silicon Valley 30 years ago. Mike now lives with his botonist wife, Anne, on Waiheke Island in New Zealand, 19km south of Aukland. Their vineyard is best described by the words from the website introduction:

Destiny Bay Vineyards is a tiny, quintessential corner of Waiheke Island, gently contoured like an ancient amphitheatre, sheltering vines of impeccable lineage, where the alchemy of winemaking combines old world traditions, new world techniques, and a timeless passion for excellence.

Indeed, this wine is excellent. I had the great privilege of trying the 2005 Mystae, 2004 Magna Praemia and 2005 Magna Praemia on Wednesday night at the home of former SEC Chief, Bill Donaldson. With 30 other wine lovers, we toasted and tasted while overlooking the East River, mist rising at the end of the day like the perfume from the glass.

Of the three wines, my favorite was the 2005 Mystae, which was also the least expensive (always a nice surprise!) The Mystae had a beautiful blackberry nose and a palate of coffee, bittersweet chocolate and blackberry. It was heavenly, a perfect balance of Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cab Franc and Malbec.

The 2004 Magna Praemia was also delicious. The nose made me feel warm and cozy, with the smell of campfire and chocolate. The palate had lots of minerals and herbs to it - I was able to pick out oregano flavors, but there were many more in there as well. And what was especially impressive was the lingering acidity and finish.

The 2005 Magna Praemia was tasty, but paled in comparison to the Mystae and 2004 Magna Praemia. I liked the nose, which gave off hints of leather, eucalyptus and cherry. But the palate was all fruit - plums and cherries and little spice, but no really depth or complexity in comparison to the other two. Then again, I like my wine a little meatier and less fruit-forward, so maybe that's why it wasn't my favorite.

Regardless, it was a beautiful night of tasting in an equally beautiful setting. There's something about tasting wines in a home that greatly enhances their beauty, almost as if the warmth of a home illumines the flavors of the wine. Whatever it is, be it the setting, the fruit or the winemaking, Destiny Bay was a showstopper on Wednesday night! 

Earlier this week, I had my nose operated on to correct my deviated septum. Since then, my nose has been swollen shut and I haven’t been able to smell a thing. But last night, with my cast on like a big duck beak, my family and I ventured out to Patois, a French neighborhood restaurant in New Orleans. And of course, I had to have a glass of wine.

We are a family of white wine lovers, and especially those of Burgundy. Thus, I selected a Pouilly-Fuissé by Dominique Cornin (Domaine de Lalande) in hopes that it met everyone’s needs: for my mother, enough freshness and lack of oak so as to compliment her favorite fish dish; for my dad, bright stone fruit flavors; and for my grandmother, something that wouldn’t overwhelm her (though at the ripe old age of 96, nothing much does these days!)

Much to my amusement, the waiter poured me the first glass, which made me chuckle since I could not sniff it at all due my closed nose. However, it was an obvious and fantastic reminder to me of the value of “nosing” a wine:

What we know of as “taste” is actually just a small part of the flavor equation both in wine and in everything we sample. Our tongue actually only tastes five sensations: salty, sweet, sour, bitter, and umami (or savoriness). Remarkably, it is smell that accounts for roughly 75% of flavor, due to an organ called the Olfactory Bulb, a quarter-sized cluster of neurons at the top of the nose. The millions of neurons that make up this cluster, and each neuron picks up different odors. The neurons transmit these odor-messages to our brain, which then signals to us the “a-ha!” flavor recognition. Thus, when my dad began describing the lovely apricot tones on the nose of the Dominique Cornin Pouilly-Fuissé, I could not perceive them at all because no odors were reaching my olfactory bulb. Amazing!

What I could detect in the Cornin was a tender bitterness of good limestone earth and freshness. Though only 25% of my senses were translating the flavor, it was an absolutely delicious 25%!

Cornin’s Domaine de Lalande is located in Pouilly-Fuissé, part of the Mâconnais region of southern Burgundy
known for its rolling hills, temperate climate, and crisp, white Chardonnay wines.

The Cornin website describes its Pouilly-Fuissé wine as a pale, brilliant wine with an almond and white flower nose. However, the best description I found online of this wine was of the 2004 vintage from Weimax Wine & Spirits:

“Absolutely fabulous is Cornin's 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé from the Clos Reyssié. It is rare to find a wine of this appellation that actually has this much personality. Wine geeks such as myself have virtually no interest in Pouilly-Fuissé, looking down our long, pointy noses at the plonk most folks buy bearing this appellation. I have to admit that there has been a nice upgrade to the quality of many M â con wines over the past few years, thankfully. Cornin's wine, though, is sort of white Burgundy you could put in front of most wine aficionados and they'd never in a million years guess it correctly as Pouilly-Fuissé. That's because these sort of wines tend to lack pizzazz and style. This wine is very deep in terms of apple and pear-like fruit and there's a touch of wood here. Cornin matures the wine in once-used barrels so there's not a strong influence of oak, but there is some wood to be found. Fantastically good!”

You can find the 2004 Dominique Cornin Pouilly-Fuissé at this online wine store:
Winebuys.com - $27.17

I couldn't find many other write-ups about Dominqiue Cornin wines, but I will keep my eye out. Please let me know if you find any good blurbs about them!

Have you ever awaken only to find out that your neighbor and classmate’s mom is a world famous author? Believe it or not, this has happened to me:

I guess I should have known when they moved into the big house, bought two guard dogs, and decided to host the 6th grade school party.

Or maybe when they bought the limo. And hired the karate expert to stand at the back gate.

I don’t know exactly the date that I learned that my neighbor and close friend’s mom was a famous writer, but I do remember one ordinary afternoon when I bopped over to play with their dog, Sunny, that the house was suddenly filled with staff left and right, answering phones and making a fuss.

“I’m just here to play with the dog!” I announced to querying eyes, staring down the 6th grader in sneakers. My friend’s mom came around the corner, gave me a kiss and then disappeared back to work.

“Wow,” I thought. “She’s really busy. And there are a lot of people here. And the body guards, the limo, the film crew I passed on the way in…” It all came together. She’s Famous!

Like my famous neighbor, whose house I had visited for years before recognizing that she wasn’t just my pal’s mom but a world famous author, I learned today that a wine I enjoy and have taken for granted is world famous, as well:

Spring Mountain was one of the first wines I tried in the company of my current bosses at Bottlenotes, Inc., an online wine marketing firm that specializes in wine clubs. I interned for the company as a business school student, and my boss used to send me home with bottles on occasion.

One of the first wines I ever took home was Spring Mountain Sauvignon Blanc (2004). Now, I’m not a huge California Sauvignon Blanc drinker, nor Chardonnay for that matter, and while this wine is positively heavenly for said person, it’s not entirely my favorite. What I respect about the wine, though, is its incredible balance of oak and tropical flavors, with fresh acidity on the finish. With food, especially fish, the acidity and lemon blossom comes pouring out, and the wine opens up to become a very refreshing accompaniment to your meal. But what I like best is that it doesn’t force me to work: I sip, and I enjoy. And after a hard day’s work, what more could you want but friends, family, and happy sipping.

But never did I expect to learn that this gentle wine was made by a house of great wine fame. Imagine my surprise when I learned that Spring Mountain made one of the six white wines chosen by the famous Parisian wine store owner (not the football coach), Steven Spurrier, for the famous 1976 Paris Tasting – essentially what has become the Oscars of wine. In this tasting, Spurrier gathered what he perceived to be the best six Chardonnay and best six Cabernet Sauvignon wines being made in California to compete with the best four French white Burgundy wines (almost always Chardonnay) and best four French Bordeaux wines (almost always a Cab/Merlot blend) for a blind tasting among many of the greatest wine experts in France. The outcome of this tasting was that the California wines prevailed in this blind tasting, and it shook the wine community to the core, for California wines had up until then been thought of as inferior. This thrust California into limelight of wine fame, and names like Stag’s Leap and Ridge Monte Bello leapt onto the stage; but somehow, Spring Mountain had escaped me. Until now.

This evening, while chewing on George Taber’s new book, The Judgment of Paris, I learned that this winery, Spring Mountain, this old friend which I have enjoyed time and time again with many colleagues and friends, is a wine not only of fame but of history. And like my friend’s darling mom, despite its immense success, remains understated and balanced, waiting for those who know it so well to finally recognize it.

Other write-ups about Spring Mountain wines:

The New York Sun, "Searching for a Great White"

Drink the Good Stuff