Wednesday 30 June 2010

Bodegas Ateca 2009 Garnacha de Fuego

This afternoon I felt a little like I might be getting an ulcer. After finishing a pretty big motion for summary judgment at work (17 pages what!), I took on a small assignment for another attorney, then jetted off to school to meet with my prof and the IT department about the Business Law Program website. By the way, it's "website" now, as opposed to "Web site" like it was when I took Writing for Mass Comm. in undergrad or "Website" like it morphed into soon afterward. So sometime before the meeting, I got this kind of ill burning in my tummy, which lingered until well after I got home. I considered the possibility that the burning was a direct result of me eating cake for dinner, but that seemed like a bummer conclusion. Instead, I decided that it might be an ulcer from all the stress, so I should probably relieve some of it with a little vino. On the rare occasions when I have a glass of wine by myself, I try to select the cheapest bottle on my rack. I don't even know if this makes sense, but it feels like a waste if I open an awesome bottle and no one is here to share in the elation. This grenache was a steal the other night at wine tasting, on sale for $7.99.

The vines used for this wine are 60 to 80 years old and rest at 3000 feet above sea level in the Calatayud Region of Catalonia, Spain. It is 100% Granache and is not aged in oak (though I can't find what is IS aged in). Calatayud consists of 15 vineyards, or bodegas, and the area produces 12.3 million liters of wine every year. The soil is clay and gravel loams, which just means that it retains water well while not completely locking in water as a pure clay would. Thus, the vines need minimal rainfall to get enough water, and aren't drowned by lingering water stuck in the clay.

I had to smile when I swirled the wine in my glass. It was a beautiful fuschia and glowed under the fluorescent kitchen lights. The first taste was full of grapes - maybe this sounds obvious, but if you've ever tasted a cab sauv or malbec, you know there ain't no grapes in there. With a little more attention, I noticed a heavy cherry flavor - but cherry juice, not cherry syrup. I was nibbling on some gouda while I drank it, but oddly, neither was enhanced by the other. Usually, I find that just about any cheese makes just about any wine taste markedly more delish. In this case, the wine could hold its own with the fruit and wasn't in need of accompaniment. That being said, I could go for a burger right now.

Sunday 20 June 2010

Diseño 2008 Malbec

This weekend I had a visitor from Brooklyn. After a day of whiskey tasting at Pauls, running around the Mall, staring at hundreds of portraits in the Portrait Gallery, and going on a failed food mission to the National Museum of the American Indian, we decided to just cook dinner at home and relax for a bit before making any evening plans. I had a couple red peppers in the fridge, so I thought I'd do a tex/mex stuffing and spinach quesadillas on the side. I was craving olives, so we stopped at Whole Foods on the way home to pick up the last few ingredients. Somehow we settled on a stuffing of sardines, rice, kalamata olives, onion, jalapeno, cherry tomatoes, rice, cilantro, black beans, and Monterrey cheese. It was no longer tex/mex. It had become Mexiranean (clever, right?). Since the peppers were a little spicy and a little latin, we went with a Malbec.

I got this bottle the other night at Superfresh for $8.99, on Viv's recommendation. It is made in Mendoza, Argentina, an area known for its incredible Malbecs. When I googled Diseño Malbec, all sorts of positive reviews popped up for the past few vintages, so I guess this is generally a solid choice. (Thanks Viv.) I must say, this one did not disappoint. I will definitely get it again.

The wine was good, but it wasn't all sunshine and giggles. We ran into some pretty serious cork issues within the first minute and a half. Not to toot my own horn, but I can usually uncork a bottle with the best of them. This one, however, put up a fight and threatened to bend the life out of our wine key. Eventually, we got it out in a two step attack, but I was quite concerned for a while. On pouring the first taste, I noticed it had a dark, muted purple color, almost opaque in the glass. The first sip was already good, and the wine didn't need any time to open up or settle down. It was soft, warm, and mellow, with a little bit of chocolate and just a touch of fruitiness. This Malbec was on the drier side, but it wasn't too thin and the tannins were completely undetectable, so it didn't create that sticky suction at the back of my throat. It was so delightful, I'm shocked it lasted all the way through cooking and eating. I think the good conversation might have had something to do with it.

Tuesday 1 June 2010

Graff 2007 Riesling Spätlese

After a morning sampling most of the public bathrooms in Greenpoint, we finally made it over the bridge and dropped Meg of with her boyfriend's family for lunch. The three of us remaining (Han, Mon, and I) ended up in a little shop called Village Tart in Little Italy, in an effort to escape the heat of the city. After mulling over the wine list for a few, we hesitantly eyed a humble (relative to others) Riesling, but decided to talk to the server in hopes it was a dryer one. He assured us it was just a tad sweet, and despite his shiny gold t-shirt, we believed him.

He lied. I swallowed at least three sugar cubes in the first two sips. This was a Riesling to end all Rieslings - everything we were hoping it was not. We actually told the waiter when he went through the tasting that it was waaaaay sweet, but he just shrugged and looked uncomfortable for a solid 30 seconds until we told him to go ahead and pour it. Halfway through our first glass, we were reduced to asking for soda water to cut the sweetness, which of course, the restaurant did not have. Though it was hard to tell with my tongue coated in syrup, there was a touch of pear and a light acidity on the finish that helped lift the sugar just a little.

This white is grown in the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer region of Germany, named for the three rivers that frame the region and known for limestone slate soil. The vineyards of the area are basically God-given for Riesling - most are on steep slopes, which are difficult to farm but allow for great rain drainage and sun exposure. Almost 60% of the grapes grown there are Riesling, and 90% are white varietals. You'd think that with the expertise that goes into Riesling from Mosel, this Spatlese would have rocked our world. And to be fair, maybe it would have if we had wanted something super sweet instead of specifically asking for the opposite. Oh, and I almost forgot the worst part of it all - 8% alcohol content. Cheers to really expensive grape juice in NYC.