An Embarassment of Riches

It’s summer, the season of easy-eatin' barbecue and easy-readin' literature. I’m a fiction addict, and I’ve been enjoying Barbara Hambly’s Benjamin January series, featuring a former slave, now free man of color, who is also a trained surgeon and musician in New Orleans of the 1830s. The setting is lush, the swampy bayou heat and rough river trade mixing in a stew of colorful French Creoles and crude Americans come to town to seek their fortunes. Intrigue and murder follow inevitably.

The key word here is “lush,” and it was the word that kept coming to mind last night as I happily, almost deliriously, tried out the Michael-David wines at Cellar Rat. The wines ostensibly were selected for their compatibility with barbecue – which as anyone from my neck of the woods can tell you is simply an excuse to drink Zinfandel.

Well, there was barbecue on hand, and there were Zins to match. But there was also a white wine (quel choc!), a Syrah, and a bright blend that should have been dubbed Kitchen Sink, featuring as it did nine separate grape varieties – Mourvedre, Syrah, Petite Sirah, Carignane, Cinsault, and heck I dunno -- maybe some Cab, Grenache, Petit Verdot???? Brothers Michael and David Phillips, who craft wines in the Lodi region (an hour east of San Francisco, and don’t go singing the Fogerty tune to them; they’re sick of it.) are responsible for 7 Deadly Zins, lately praised on this site for its smooth punch and wood-smoke finish.

Seven Deadly is the only one of Michael-David’s red offerings that I’d tried before. What does it tell you when I say that, stacked up against some of the winery’s other picks, the tasty 7 Deadly was merely pleasant to my palate, which was impatiently urging me on to other bottles that promised rewards higher on the Richter Fruit of the Vine Scale? I was perilously close to lunging across the table and grabbing me a big handful of Earthquake, and I could barely taste the Deadly wood smoke that had so recently beguiled me.

I’d been wanting to try the Earthquake Zin ever since I’d first heard it described to me a few years ago. What I learned in my wine tutorial last evening was that the Brothers Phillips are the producers of not only the Earthquake Zin, but Earthquake Cab and Earthquake Petite Sirah. One more time: Earthquake Petite Sirah. The actual reason I’d dragged Andie and three friends down to the Rat with me. Because if there’s anything as good as a kickass Zinfandel, it’s a kickass Petite Sirah.

And oh oh oh. As I’ve said before and hope to say again many times before I die, Petite Sirah is just the most BEAUTIFUL wine. It’s deep purple, almost obscenely rich-looking, with light in its dusky plum depths, like the sun has climbed into a sea of royal ink to drown. Happily.

Do you know, the Earthquake Petite Sirah is as lush and tasty as it is pretty? Luscious, like Michelle Pfeiffer (or some other aging hot Hollywood talent who’s worth way more than a bevy of callow, untested youngsters. Pick your own acting analogy here. You catch my drift, I trust: Seriously good.). It’s also a deceptively big wine, with blueberries and blackberries and vanilla coming together powerfully, but so smoothly and softly that you almost don’t notice its strength. Almost. The finish goes on forever, which is how long I’m hoping my stash will last.

When the character of the beloved matches the physical beauty, and she makes the earth move under your feet. . .well, grab that gal and ELOPE already!!! That’s what WE did. Except for the elopement part. We grabbed some Earthquake and headed out to dinner.

But not before we tried every dang Michael-David wine we could. Because even the Viognier, sounding its seductive honey notes, was lush. Lush, like a sultry spring night in 19th-century New Orleans, with mystery and adventure at hand. . .

Stay tuned for Part II of “My Adventures with Michael and David," detailing the rest of the Lodi lineup: the Incognito Rouge, The Windmill Estates Old Vine Zin, and a few more Earthquakes!

Sabotage and Staff Picks

Learning from a mechanic that someone has cut your brake hose is a serious downer. Happily for me, the freakish news came just hours before an event I’d scribbled hopefully on my calendar: Cellar Rat’s Staff Picks Tasting Night.

Gotta love that staff. The Fess Parker Chardonnay was a “classic California Chardonnay,” as Ryan termed it. I looked at him several moments, trying to discern whether he was waxing sarcastic. After all, wine snobs have turned away in droves from these once-popular creamy, buttery confections.

But Ryan was serious, and so is this wine. I loved it. I haven’t had a big boy Chardonnay like this in some time, and I love love LOVE that toasted oaky butterscotch taste. And so did Andie! I keep telling her how yummy these Chards can be, but she’s such a fan of crisp, fruity Sauvignon Blancs that she long ago dismissed the Chardonnays from her tasting lineup after one or two less than impressive samples. She must have forgotten our premium tasting at the Ferrari-Carano vineyard. Wowza!

At Cellar Rat, we sampled more than a dozen staff picks, from a Casamaro Spanish White to a Clos La Coutale Cahors. There wasn’t a loser in the bunch.

In the white wine department, in addition to the Fess Parker Chardonnay, we enjoyed the honeyed charms of the Incognito Viognier, more complex than the $16 price tag might suggest. Pineapple, loads of fruit, flowers, very nice. We also sampled the St. Supery Sauvignon Blanc -- okay, but not as good as the New Zealand SBs, IMO.

Andie’s favorite of the evening was the Old Patch Red from Trentadue, a tasty Zin-based blend with Petite Sirah and Sangiovese and maybe some Cariagne rounding it out. This tannic, berry-filled screwcap from Sonoma was about $17. We grabbed a bottle.

My own pick for the evening was “Billie’s Pick,” the 7 Deadly Zins. It suited my personal palate, this blend of old vine Zins from Lodi. It was rich, ripe, and full, with a wood-smoke finish that put me in mind of camping. I also liked the Atteca Old Vine Garnacha, 100% Grenache, balanced and smacking of cherries.

We both were impressed by the Lucignano Chianti, dry and oh so smooth, with violets and cherries and soft tannins. This Sangiovese-based beauty is produced by a small vineyard just outside the famed Classico zone (and I mean BARELY outside, just a few hundred yards, if Jeff can be believed). We got a bottle for Cara’s birthday, courtesy of Kimmy Sue Tappan. $16.

Lucky Cara. Lisa would have liked this wine. She also would have liked the Altesino Rosso, another Sangiovese with some Merlot thrown in. Earthy, with leather and berries and spice. Someone called it a poor man’s Brunello, although I wouldn’t go quite that far. It, too, was about $16.

The Norman Zin was a bit strange on the palate, I thought – some sort of candy thing going on. We skipped the Four Vines Zin, since we already have some at home, and we know it’s good, and the 2004 is better than the 2005 Cellar Rat had on hand.

Cellar Rat. My new favorite wine store. Like Gomer’s and Hy-Vee and the former Osco at 75th and Wornall, it has a great selection. But I think it beats them all with its knowledgeable, approachable staff. Sara, Ryan, Billie, Jeff, Steve. . . thanks guys!

Wine is good for your health

Is it Good for your Wallet?

Perhaps you’ve read the latest study to highlight the positive effects of drinking alcohol. Researchers from Brigham and Women’s Hospital in Boston have concluded that drinking light to moderate amounts of alcohol can lower one’s risk of renal (kidney) cancer.

For me, “alcohol” translates to “wine.” Delicious, soul-satisfying wine.

Judicious wine intake has been associated with cardiovascular health, a reduced risk of coronary heart disease, a reduced risk of stroke – and, based on an informal poll of my acquaintances, an increased likelihood of smiles and all-round cheerful conversation.

In the marketplace of modern America, there are countless wines from which to choose, from countries near and far, with prices ranging from miniscule to extravagant. While the cheapest wines may exhibit flavor to match the price, there are many wines under $20 a bottle that can provide tasty satisfaction to the discriminating drinker. There are also numerous wines that are priced way, WAY above $20 a bottle, and that ALSO offer a fine drinking experience. How fat is your wallet?

Several months ago, I opened a stored bottle of Far Niente Cabernet Sauvignon, a high-end wine that retails for more than $100 a bottle. (As it was from the 1994 vintage, this particular bottle would today sell for $150 to $300.) While balanced and tasty enough, this Cabernet struck me as just a little disappointing – and my dinner guests concurred. While there was nothing WRONG with the wine, it seemed a bit modest and undistinguished. At that price, we expected more.

A happier experience accompanied the uncorking of a 2001 Dry Creek Mood Hill Cabernet Sauvignon, which cost in the vicinity of $20. It was well-structured, black cherry and vanilla flavors leading toward a long finish. I happily cherished every sip. It had more appeal, more flavor, than the more expensive wine. In short, it offered a much better wine value.

I also recently opened a bottle of the 2003 Jacob’s Creek Reserve Shiraz, a dandy little offering from Australia that is brimming with blackberries and spice. It, too, provided a more luscious taste experience than the Far Niente Cab – and at $13, was a fraction of the price.

Value in wine is a function of both quality and price. People who love wine, but lack either the funds or the will to lavish great piles of greenbacks on it, may become value shoppers, searching – as I do – for that blissful combination of affordability and deliciousness. There are worse ways to spend one’s free time – and it may improve your health!

Petite like Queen Latifah

"Petite Sirahs," they call them. Pfiddlesticks!

I first was turned on to the joys of Petite Sirahs via the bold charms of an inexpensive, widely available wine. The Bogle brand rocks, people. At roughly $11 a bottle, the 2001 Bogle Petite Sirah was a thoroughly tasty mouthful. It made my mouth happy. It made ME happy. It created a wine memory.

I recall liking the next few bottlings, but I’ve hit a snag with the 2004 Bogle PS. Now that Costco is carrying it, it seems to have slumped. My mouth makes an eh noise, and my head nods in a rueful manner. It’s OKAY, but not the joyful palate-pleaser I remember. I hope it’s just the one vintage, because this baby regularly beats out all the other inexpensive Petites I’ve tried, and stands up well next to bottles that cost twice as much (David Bruce, Elyse).

Mind you, it’s still a beautiful beast. For sheer beauty, it’s hard to beat a Petite Sirah. It’s a lovely, deep, deep purple, like jazzed-up Welch’s grape juice – what I imagined “real” wine WOULD be, when I was a teenager swigging Boone’s Farm and Ripple ‘neath the light of a silvery Nebraska moon.

It’s also possible my palate is shifting – AGAIN. I no longer respond as strongly to the earthy, sweat-socks seductiveness of the big Italians, the Rossos and Chianti Classicos/Rufinas, as much as I used to. I’m terrified to crack my remaining bottle of the 1997 Tommasina Ripasso, for fear it will no longer be my favorite.

Why must my palate change? WHY? Change is hard, ya know. Everyone says so.

On to more fruitful topics: More than once, watching me rummage through the racks, a helpful wine store employee has suggested I try the Peachy Canyon Zinfandel – I gather it’s a popular choice. But it’s about $12, and I haven’t found good Zins in that price range, so I’ve resisted. Finally picked up a bottle on sale for $10, and I can report that the 2005 Peachy Canyon Paso Robles is quite. . . resistible.

In other recent sips, the 2004 Penfolds Limited Edition Coonwarra Shiraz was also largely forgettable. Not bad, just not memorable. I had one glass and used the rest of it for Sangria – although I will note that it made the best batch of Sangria of the night. The other Sangria bases were a 2004 Bogle Petite Sirah, an El Coto Rioja, and a Chardonnay called White Lie. Each, in its own way, deserved its Sangria fate.

Here’s an admission: I make a mean Sangria. I think this falls under the category of Strange, Usually Useless Talents. For example, I am quite gifted at guessing the weight of cats. I do this by picking up a cat, then hefting it. I can come within an ounce or two of the feline’s exact weight. How’s that for impressive? I’m still waiting for a job offer from a circus.

The thing is, I don't even LIKE Sangria much. But my friends do, and they really, REALLY like my version. It's my cross to bear, I suppose -- and it's possible that having a dab hand at sangria is marginally useful. It’s an excellent way to recycle so-so wine. It is NOT a recipe for wine coolers; my sangria is more on the order of wine-based Long Island Tea. Don’t go sipping it thinking it will be LESS alcoholic than your straight-up glass of wine, no sirree. Still, it has loads of citrus in it (lemons, limes, oranges), so it could be construed as dinner-and-drinks in a single package. Talk about your Vitamin C tonic.