Wine Giques

Tasting Blind

Not handcuffed. No clothespin. No handkerchief folded over and tied behind my head so that even my sense of daylight is blocked. I have every sense in tact and at my disposal, every one except for memory. Okay, memory is not a sense per se but, in this case, it would come in handy.

Blind tasting is a great exercise and an excellent tool for a wine professional. It really forces you to pay attention to what the wine is saying. And wine says a lot.

It is possible, from the color and clarity of the wine, to tell what variety the wine may be and how it was vinified. Aromas and flavors give a clue as to oak treatment, type of soils, climate, and much more about the grapes themselves. So much can be gleaned by tasting in this way, but the memory of having tasted a wine before makes it all that much easier.

A wine that will not soon be forgotten is Amarone - 1997 Masi "Mazzano" is everything that Ama rone should be  - ripe, full, fig, raisin, chocolate bomb - Memorable!  ~$50

Splendid Blends

We're having a wind storm in L.A. today.  It's not a bad thing -- it blew away the rain clouds that were stalking us at Boot Camp this morning, clearing the smog from our sinuses, and making everyone thirsty.  And boy, am I thirsty . . . thirsty for two weeks off from Boot Camp and for some holiday cheer.

"Holiday cheer" means holiday parties.  And guess what everyone asks you to bring (especially when you tell them you have a wine blog)?  That's right.  Wine.

So what's a girl to do? 

To go along with the colors of the season, and the brisk weather-- as well as my favorite lipstick-- I generally choose red.  And not a pricey red, either, unless I know I'm headed for some shindig where mass quantities of aged beef will be consumed, followed by tall tales and stogies.  Those parties are full of boys, and those boys will want to boast of wine prices and wine ratings.  I'll bring them that  '94 Staglin that I got custody of in my divorce, and I'll be the toast of the evening.  (I'll also be toasted all evening!)

But for more genteel gatherings, the choices are more varied.  And I generally find that I won't go wrong with something a little softer, more approachable . . . more quaffable, as we say, in fine wine parlance.   In these circumstances, I'm quite fond of blended varietals, generally called Meritage wines when they're made in the U.S.  Like good parties, they bring out the best in those things that, separately, are pretty good on their own, but which really shine when you stick 'em all together in one place.

A few of my favorites:

Artesa Elements -- Primarily Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot, with a touch of Rhone for spiciness, I haven't gone wrong with this one yet, no matter what vintage I choose.  And you can generally get it for between $10 -$15.

Duckhorn Decoy --  Sister label to the fabulous Duckhorn cabs (see Boy Party, above), this little blend livens up every party it attends.  A touch more spendy, generally $20-$25 a bottle, see if you can find the 2003 vintage.

Estancia Meritage -- A Central Valley gem.  The 2003 is berry-ish, rich and smooth.  $20-$25.

(And if you want to complain that my little list is all from California, well, I'm a California girl.  But rest assured, you can find tasty Meritage blends from Washington and Oregon, too.) 

Here's to a splendid holiday! 

Bubbly and Bivalves

So, I left you in October, trying to "dry out."  And the reason I didn't post when I returned from Napa was that I was amazingly disappointed by the temptations I found there . . . at least at the event I attended.   The venue, which will remain unnamed, was pouring private-label run-of-the-mill vino that had been batch-produced in some California valley not traditionally located in the wine country.  Not that I'm a snob, mind you (well, perhaps a tiny snob), but hell -- it's Napa, dammit.   Give me a break.

But I WILL tell you about Bouchon.  Before the function, my traveling companion and I sneaked up to Yountville for a snack.  (Yeah, we were having dinner an hour later, but hell -- it's Napa.)  Bouchon is always reliable, both for amazing bistro chow, but also tasty tastes of wine.  And people-watching.  (But that's another story.)

My favorite thing at Bouchon?  Bubbly.  And oysters.  So I indulged.  The bubbly?  Domaine Chandon Reserve Brut.  The oysters?   Tiny Kumamotos.   Tangy Atlantics.   Briny Belons.  (Hey, I grew up on the Chesapeake Bay -- I can talk about oysters until I'm blue in the face.)  I would have gone for a whole dozen, but hey, we were having dinner in an hour.

What is it about champagne and oysters?  Besides the fact that the combination puts me in a festive good mood and makes me insanely flirty?  (Good attributes for a networking event, BTW.)  They've been linked since the beginning of time, it seems, or at least since the beginning of time in France, which IS the beginning of time when you're talking champagne.   I'm going to do some research about the tradition and report back later.

In the meantime, a bit of trivia:  Dom Perignon, widely regarded (perhaps erroneously) as the father of champagne, was also the first to stopper his wine bottles with cork.  The French name for these little stoppers?  Bouchon.

See, it all comes back around to make sense, eventually.  By the way, I had two glasses of wine -- the bubbly at Bouchon and the other at the must-not-be-named venue.  And Boot Camp is going fine, thank you.  But that's another story.