Jacob's Creek Reserve 2006 Shiraz

There are certain things men will never understand. One of them is The Notebook. And I'll admit, sometimes I don't even understand why the idea of curling up on the sofa under a blanket with a glass of wine and a movie guaranteed to make you cry sounds like the perfect Thursday evening. But it did - this Thursday at least.

This bottle was a very personal choice, so I thought it was the right time to open it. The Jacob's Creek Reserve Shiraz is the first wine I ever loved. I only had it once: it was my farewell dinner at Dragonfly in Gainesville (sushi seemed appropriate since I was moving to Japan), and a few of us split the shiraz. I've never forgotten it, and a while back, I saw it on sale in the SuperFresh behind school. $8.99 from 12.99. Good excuse to revisit the past.

Wearing neon blue tights and my oldest t-shirt, I plopped on the couch and poured a glass of blast-from-the-past. Just in time for the awkward strip scene in The Notebook where Adams and Gosling are about to consumate their teenage love on the floor of some old house. This had been a good idea, after all.

This South Australian wine is aged in a variety of French and American oak barrels for 18 months. At the end, the product is tasted, and only the best barrels are blended into the Reserve. It scored an 89 on the Wine Spectator scale. I don't know what that means.

Recently, I've found that shiraz is no longer my favorite varietal. So I was a little nervous about this wine - since it was so infused with memories, I didn't want to ruin it by realizing that I don't actually like it anymore. But it was nice. It was smooth up front but had that characteristic punch at the finish that I've found is the reason shiraz has fallen out of favor with me. It was a pleasant punch, though, spicy and not too bitter. I finished the bottle a few days later with Caitlin, and she expertly noted that it was very oaky, which I wouldn't have identified on my own. Also, those few days made a big difference in the texture. It got a lot softer, and thus a lot more enjoyable. I guess it just needed to breathe. In the end, I learned this:

wine + the notebook = catharsis

Los Vascos 2007 Sauvignon Blanc

I seem to be on a Chilean wine kick recently. Perhaps this is because there are so many affordable bottles, but it's also because the region produces really nice Cab Sauvs. Plus I recently made a Chilean friend, Nico, and whenever he brings wine over, it's inevitably (surprise!) Chilean.

This weekend I actually had two Chilean wines - a Carménère and a Sauvignon Blanc. Nico brought over the Carménère on Saturday night. He and Caitlin (my roommate) had plans to make dinner, and they downed one bottle of red while I was out ice skating. Luckily, I came home just in time to open the Carménère, which Nico received as a rather generous gift from an older co-worker. I won't review it here, because it was not a "humble" wine, and I'm sure my novice tongue could not even begin to do it justice. But it was lovely: velvety and indulgent.

Interestingly, the Carménère grape was one of the original varietals grown in Bordeaux, but was imported to Chile around 1850. It's a rather finicky grape: it doesn't grow well when exposed to too much rain, and the grape often doesn't develop properly (this is called poor fruit set). After years of problems with phylloxera infestations and failed vines, most regions gave up on growing Carménère. Luckily, it seems to do just fine in Chile, so most of the world's supply is now grown there. Until the last 15 years, Carménère was often confused with Merlot in Chile, as Sauvignon Blanc was with Sauvignonasse. Scientists and wine connoisseurs finally noticed something was off, and nowadays most bottles are accurately labeled with the appropriate varietals. But if you get ahold of a pre-2000 bottle, you might find a surprise inside.

But back to the cheap wine. Sunday was Ajay's 4-year veggietastic vegetarian anniversary, so he made yummy porcini mushroom risotto and had a few of us over for a celebration. I made chewy chocolate chip ginger cookies (sounds bizarre, but whoa) and took a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc to match. I'd picked it up a few months back at World Market on a wine binge and was saving it for an occasion that called for something light. We all shared a red with dinner, and only Ajay and I made it to this bottle.

This white from Casablanca Valley was a little tart and slightly acidic. I find most whites pretty easy to drink, and this was no exception. It was light, almost watery up front, but at the finish a strong citrus flavor emerged. Honestly, I didn't have a strong impression of it either way. It didn't offer the same taste journey that a red would have, but I enjoyed it. Also, I might have been distracted by the delicious risotto, addictive cookies, and Nick rolling around on the carpet.

Tutto Bene 2006 Toscana Rosso

I love this wine, and for one evening it loved me back. Saturday afternoon, I discovered the little gem on sale at World Market. They were claiming to have a store-wide wine sale, which turned out to be mostly dreaded Chardonnays. Caitlin talked me out of the $3.97 Riesling I found. My eyes wandered. The tuttobene label was intriguing, and it was nearly half off. As you may have noticed, I have a hard time saying no to anything under $6.

This blend of merlot, sangiovese, and canaiolo is grown in sandy clay soil of the Chianti region and aged for six months in concrete vats. The concrete method seems relatively new. The porous concrete allows the wine to breathe while aging, similar to wood (as opposed to stainless steel), but without changing the flavor in the process. Coupled with the paradigmatic climate of 2006, this bottle should taste as close to Tuscany as they come.

For dinner, hot italian sausage with onions and peppers in homemade tomato sauce over thyme-and-garlic-infused rice. Caitlin and I sat down in front of the TV, settled on Trapped, an old Kevin Bacon/Charlize Theron flick, and took our first bite. Yum. Onto the wine. I took a sip and nearly cried. It was perfect, like a peapod reunited with its italian sausage peas.

The rosso was a voluptuous maroon color, obviously full-bodied with fantastic legs. It was graceful on the tongue, in no hurry to leave. Soft and simple, reminiscent of a pinot noir up front. There was a slight kick on the inhale, but we couldn't pick out any distinct flavors. Perhaps it's because the bottle didn't give us any hints. Though not very complex, the tuttobene was sweetly satisfying at the finish and an ideal companion for spicy sausage. Caitlin suggested we go back and buy a case. I would, but that might make for a pretty boring wine blog.

Echelon 2007 Pinot Noir

Restaurant week in DC, and Meg was in town. I made a rez at Oya, a swanky Eurasian place in Chinatown for dinner. Three courses and a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc later, we braved the sardine metro experience back to Friendship Heights. We decided to open a bottle to enjoy in our PJs, so I looked for the mellowest choice on the rack. It was this pinot noir, which I got (on sale) for a meager $5.66 at the supermarket behind campus.

The front label reads "Vin de Pays de l'ile de Beaute," which from what I could gather is just a phrase used to identify certain country wines grown in Corsica. It is 87% pinot noir and 13% other Rhone varietals. While the grapes are French, the wine itself is blended in Sonoma.

The first thing I noticed about this one was the color - almost a transparent ruby brown in the light. It glided in light and smooth up front, as expected, and left a dry kick on the back of the tongue. On inhale, the words "hollow" and "metallic" came to mind. (Secret: I am actually drinking the last glass from the bottle right now, while eating leftover scallops from dinner last night, and it is strange. This wine combines with the lingering scallop flavor and it tastes like I'm sipping spare change. Not the worst thing that has ever happened in my mouth, but I don't recommend the pairing.) The label says it's fruity, and I guess that's true.

I'd definitely buy this again for the $5 price tag.

Falesco Vitiano 2005 Cabernet-Merlot-Sangiovese

It was 27 degrees outside and my turn to cook. My survival instincts told me I should probably work with what was already in the kitchen if I valued my digits. There was a fresh carton of half-and-half in the fridge, shrimp in the freezer, and an emergency bag of shells in the pantry. I think anyone would have made the same decision - shrimp and pasta in caper cream sauce. A touch of goat cheese brie on toast and the culinary improv was complete.

This called for an Italian wine. I suspect a 2nd grader might have also employed my country-matching technique. There was only one Italian bottle on our rack we were willing to open on that Thursday eve, and it was this 2005 blend. Regularly priced around $9.99, my roommate said she picked it up for a mere $6.99 on sale.

A little about the wine: it is grown in Umbria, vinified in stainless steel for 16 days, followed by 3 months in barrels from Nevers, one of the 5 forests used for French oak.

As it turns out, country-matching probably wasn't the best idea, because it didn't pair very well with the pasta. The caper cream sauce was surprisingly subtle, and the wine was ... not. It slips into your mouth and sets up shop, knocking around and killing any previous inhabitants. The flavor was alright - we actually caught a little of the dark fruit and oaky flavors alluded to on the back label - but the tannins were harsh. Inhaling while tasting this is not worth the awkward mouth maneuver - we were so incapacitated by the bitterness that any hidden flavors were lost in the pucker. There was quite a bit of sediment in the wine, and more CO2 bubbles than I have ever seen in a red. Overall, it wasn't a terrible bottle, but the pleasure came mainly from the company.

(photo by Caitlin)

"The best use of bad wine is to drive away poor relations." - French proverb