Charles Shaw 2009 Pinot Grigio & Quail's Gate 2005 Old Vines Foch

This weekend, Tom came in town to accompany me to the Barrister's Ball. After having dinner with his grandparents on Thursday evening, his grandma gave me a bottle of her favorite go-to wine - Two Buck Chuck Pinot Grigio from Trader Joe's. Tom and I opened it on Friday. I had made plans to cook a nice dinner that night and open the most special bottle in my (small) collection, an Old Vines Foch that I took home from a wine tour in the Okanagan Valley of Canada. Earlier in the week I had researched food pairings, and lamb was at the top of the list. So I decided rack of lamb would be appropriate and impressive.

Around 6, Tom and I went to the weekly local wine tasting with some friends, then headed to Giant for dinner ingredients. When we arrived at the store, there were no racks of lamb to be found. Clearly everyone else in the neighborhood had the same plan. There was a pause as we stood in front of the meat cooler and Tom looked at me expectantly. I eyed a stack of lamb chops. I've always had a strange aversion to the idea of lamb chops, perhaps because I felt so fondly about Lamb Chop and her Playalong. But the thought of reformulating our whole meal was entirely too much to deal with, so I pushed "The Song That Never Ends" out of my head and put the lamb chops in our basket. We picked up the other ingredients without incident and headed back to the apartment to cook. The recipe Natalie gave me for risotto called for a quarter cup of white wine, so Tom and I opened the Two Buck Chuck. I steamed an artichoke to snack on with a little balsamic mayo for dipping, and we shared the Pinot with my roommate, Caitlin.

Two Buck Chuck got its name from the $1.99 price tag at California Trader Joe's, but I hear it costs more like $2.99 (gasp!) around these parts. Unfortunately because of state law, the Trader Joe's in Maryland doesn't sell wine, which is probably the only reason I haven't had this before. Fred Franzia, of the beloved boxed varieties, has been making the Two Buck Chuck line of wines since 2002, with the mission of producing everyday affordable wines that people actually enjoy drinking. Although all the varietals are cellared and bottled in Napa or Sonoma, the grapes come from multiple locations to keep costs down.

This springy white turned out to be a wonderful artichoke accompaniment and aperitif. If Tom's grandma hadn't told me it was a "two buck" bottle, I would have thought it to be in the $10 range. It was a lovely Pinot Grigio, light and crisp, but not too watery. Tom expertly detected hints of pear. The finish had just a tinge of acidity, cutting whatever sweetness lingered and making it incredibly drinkable. Every time I looked at my glass, it was empty. I think Tom was drinking mine when I wasn't looking, because his glass always seemed to be full.

Just as we finished the two buck chuck, dinner came together. Lamb chops with onions in a dijon worcestershire sauce, portobello mushroom risotto, and spicy sauteed rainbow chard. Tom got a photo of the meal; tragically, the bottle of Old Vines Foch was being shy.

The red we had with dinner was a limited release 100% Marechal Foch by Quail's Gate Winery in Kelowna, B.C. Summer of 2008 on my way home from two years in Japan, I stopped in Canada to see a friend who had gone home the year before. Hessen, her friend Keltie, and I took a week-long road trip from Edmonton to Vancouver, stopping in the Okanagan Valley on our way back. The region, which is home to most of Canada's wineries, is rather fascinating. It's actually almost a desert, with over 200 days of sunshine a year and only 10-20 inches of rainfall. The soil in Kelowna is mostly sand and gravel, with glacial silt and sediment. The Marechal Foch varietal is a French hybrid introduced to Canada in 1946. The vines used in the Foch we had were from the first plantings in the Quail's Gate vineyard about 25 years ago, hence the "Old Vines" label. The grapes were picked around September '05 and aged in American oak for 18 months. Currently, most Marechal Foch is sweetened and used for cheap jug wines, but there is a small cult following of carefully produced Foch made from older vines. This bottle cost around $25, but I don't think you can find it in the states.

I'd been carrying this bottle around for two years, so I was really looking forward to opening it with Tom. At least I knew he could help me write the wine blog entry. Not to disappoint, he immediately tasted dark chocolate, which my palate could not pick out. I picked up hints of coffee, and we both noticed a strong layer of oak. The Foch was a beautiful wine - bold and full but with soft tannins on the finish. Like warm satin in the mouth, it was round and not quite fruity or dry. As expected, it paired well with the lamb and Grana Padano cheese in the risotto. The rainbow chard was a nice break from the richness of the everything else, and it turned out to be quite photogenic.

From a fun two buck white to a sentimental red - the wine, the evening, and particularly the Tom - were perfect. I'd recommend them to anyone.

Fifth Leg 2006 Red

This was one of those evenings meant for wine. Nothing on the agenda, The Time Traveler's Wife on DVD, and Caitlin cooking dinner: all signs pointed to red. A month or so ago I picked this bottle up after wine tasting from the 50%-off crate most people are too embarrassed to dig through. Usually a $13 bottle, I scored this Western Australian red blend for half that. Apparently "Fifth Leg" stands for the label's anti-corporate, self-proclaimed indie status.

It's a blend of Cab Sauv, Merlot, Shiraz, and a smidge of Cab Franc grown by Devil's Lair in Margaret Valley. In 2006 there was a drought, so the region only got about 80% of the normal rainfall. Luckily, the summer was warm and dry, so the grapes ripened well and were harvested a little early. They were then aged for a year in American and French oak. According to the tasting notes on Fifth Leg's Web site, the 2006 vintage is most drinkable through 2010, which may explain the discounted price.

This red started out fruity and stayed sweet at the finish with mild tannins. It was full-bodied but not too heavy, and as it opened up in the glass, it got smoother and smoother. I could definitely taste the spice of a Shiraz, but without the harsh kick they usually deliver. The balance of the blend was nicely done, producing a purpley flavor that was spunky but easy to drink. I'd recommend it if you can find it; this wine seems a little obscure. Now I just have to figure out when I have time to finish off the bottle this week...

Wily Jack 2007 Zinfandel

I know, I know. It's been a long time. Believe me, I missed you, too. But the good news is that I have a pretty good wine to recommend. (See left)

Monica came in town this weekend for a job interview, so I decided to throw a modest dinner party in honor of her arrival on Friday night. On the menu were Greek salad, a baked potato bar, kabocha spinach soup, spicy chicken skewers, curried avocado and tofu salad, my signature hummus, and for dessert, warm poached prunes over vanilla ice cream. The prune recipe called for a dry red wine, so I pulled this Wily Jack off the rack. The bottle cost around $7.99. While the fruit was simmering, Caitlin and I enjoyed a glass of the remaining wine.

The grapes for this Zin are grown in Sonoma and aged in French oak, but I couldn't find much else about the wine making process. Despite the lack of information about the wine itself, the back label did offer Chapter Three of Wily Jack's adventures. A young winemaker, Jason Becker, has done quite a clever job creating a story to sell his product. He hired Michael Schwab, a celebrated graphic artist with work on display at the Smithsonian National Portrait Gallery, to create the character behind the label. Schwab came up with Wily Jack, the cowboy-esque silhouette who represents the brand. Wily Jack makes three wines - Zinfandel, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Sauvignon - each with a slightly different image of Jack on the front and a new chapter of his story on the back. Interestingly, the Wily Jack Cab Sauv just won a silver medal and the Chardonnay a gold medal in the 2010 San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition. I'll have to try those next. You'll have to pick up a bottle (or all three) to read
Wily Jack's story.

This Zinfandel turned out to be a perfect fit for the poached prunes, and rather enjoyable on its own. It was wildly fruity up front, with plenty of berries and an arguably pruney flavor. After the yummy entrance, it revealed its dry side with full oaky body and a bit of pucker on the finish. It was quite a wily mouthful, and while I found it a very interesting zinfandel, the tannins were a little strong for my taste. Despite being personally overwhelmed, I think this is a really fun wine and recommend it to anyone who's not afraid of a wily ride.

Chateau de Castelneau 2006 Reserve Merlot Bordeaux

I had just finished a loaded baked potato and opened Intro to Law & Economics - there was a knock at the door. Strange on a Wednesday eve at The Irene, unless it was Bob from the 12th floor, and he hasn't stopped by in months. I still haven't figured out if our door has a peep hole (there is a weird plastic box thing where a peep hole might be), so I just opened the door. There stood Jaime with a brown paper bag and a tired smile. Awesome surprise.

Jaime loves wines from Bordeaux, so of course he brought a 100% Merlot from the region. Merlot is the prominent grape grown in Bordeaux, but it is rare to find a pure merlot; usually it is blended with other varietals. It was an interesting change for me, because I almost never drink merlot. The most striking aspect was its dryness. It almost felt transparent, like it was just sweeping through in a gossamer wave and taking all my mouth's moisture on its way out. On the inhale, it had a smoky flavor with very little fruit. Actually, I find it kind of hard to describe, because this merlot was so different from the wines I usually choose. It had a whole new set of characteristics I haven't learned to articulate yet. New goal: drink diverse.

We enjoyed it for sure. A gluttonous Wednesday eve.

Gnarly Head 2006 Cabernet Sauvignon

It all started with a honey ham. Caitlin found one on sale at the market and decided to make an event out of it. Girls Night With Honey Ham, we called it (in my head). A few of Caitlin's ladies came over for dinner, followed by a trip to the theater to see Valentines Day. Movie reviews are not my thing, but I will note that the movie was not the highlight of the evening, though nor was the Gnarly Head Cab.

I don't remember much about this wine, partly because it wasn't that great, and partly because I drank it over a week ago. This week has been a little demanding, so I apologize to my loyal reader(s). I will recall what I can about this gnarly wine, which I picked up on sale from $12 to $7. Last summer, a friend said it was one of his favorites, so I figured I'd take advantage of the buy and grab a bottle for the party.

The Gnarly grapes are grown in Northern California, and this wine is a blend of grapes from different regions, including Mendocino, Paso Robles, Monterrey, and Lodi. Each area's grapes add something to the overall flavor. The Gnarly Head Winery started with a mission to make great Zinfandel, but has expanded to making Merlot, Pinot Grigio, Chard, and Cab as well.

I opened the bottle while baking coconut cream cheese cookies for the ladies. (pictured left coated in almond slivers) Perhaps it wasn't the best pairing, since the label suggests drinking it with meats and rich cheeses or chocolate. It was medium bodied with a hint of cranberries up front, with a lot more presence than a typical Cab Sauv. The wine left a strong aftertaste, which Caitlin thought tasted like lime rind, and I just thought tasted bad. It was light on the tongue, but quite heavy on the taste buds - spicy and bitter with tannins on the finish. Oddly, this wine has gotten great reviews: 91 points at the 2008 California State Wine Fair Competition and 86 from Wine Enthusiast Magazine. I didn't like it much.

Domaine Grand Veneur Les Champauvrins 2007 Côtes du Rhône Villages

There's not much to do during Snowmageddon other than drink wine and blog about it. Caitlin was making pizza from scratch last night, and class was cancelled for today (surprise!), so it seemed like a good time to open a nice bottle. We bought this Cotes Du Rhone Villages together at the neighborhood liquor store after a wine tasting one Friday. We both really liked it, and it was on sale for $19. Not exactly the humblest of wines, but splitting the cost made it bearable.

Les Champauvrins is a single vineyard bordering Chateauneuf du Pape appelation (a legally defined geographical indication), first made known for winemaking by Pope Jean XXII in 1320. This is evident in the name of the region, meaning "New Castle of the Pope." The Jaume family, who run Grand Veneur Winery, began farming the region in 1826. The area is renowned for its soil, a base of marine sandstone layered with remnants of Alpine glaciers and rocks deposited by the Rhone. The winery practices green harvesting, which means that during the growing season, they go through the fields and selectively remove bunches of immature grapes. Although this process significantly decreases the winery's output, it allows the vines to give everything they have to the remaining bunches, ultimately producing better grapes and wine - quality over quantity logic.

This particular Cotes du Rhone Villages is a blend of 70% Grenache, 20% Syrah, and 10% Mourvedre. It is aged in stainless steel vats for 15 days with "pigeage". Pigeage is when the skins and stems, which naturally float to the top of the liquid, are manually submerged to increase their contribution to the flavor. Traditionally, people did this with their feet, like in the movies. If you Google "pigeage" there are some interesting image results.

I must confess we opened the bottle before the pizza was even in the oven. Even the cork in this wine was lovely. It was a proper cork (not agglomerate or the beloved screw top), and crested with the name of the current head of the estate, Alain Jaume. Beyond the cork, the wine was no disappointment. When I first tasted it, I thought OH! sweet! But then as it circled around my tongue and slid towards my throat, it opened up into something else. It took me a few sips to figure out what was happening, and for the first time I really understood what it means to say a wine is complex. Maybe it's because I've been paying more attention, or maybe it's because this wine cost more than $6, but it really tasted like a story. A childhood of rich syrupy fruit, a sweet and seductive adolescence, evolving gently into delicate refinement, and finishing with the subtle scars and callouses of a life well-lived. Sorry boys, but wine seems more like a woman to me.

If you can't tell, this wine was a win. So was the pizza, by the way.

Jargon 2007 Pinot Noir

Thursday night Law & Econ is a great time to G-chat. Adi (left) was also stuck at school and suggested we try out the free salsa lessons after class, since I have been talking about wanting to learn ballroom (and he went all last semester). One of the girls from my section hosts lessons at school from 8-9 with a guy whom I guess she teaches legitimate dance classes with outside of school. Earlier in the evening, Adi and I had both been drinking wine at respective event receptions at school. We decided (via G-chat) more wine was needed. So he went and picked out this bottle while I was finishing class, and we convened afterward to enjoy. He brought a crunch bar and a mug, true law student ghetto chic.

He selected a 2007 Pinot Noir, mostly, I think, because of the screw top, and partly because of the little megaphone man on the label. It's bottled under the Jargon label, which only makes Pinot Noir. They have a pretty cute Web site, www.jargonwines.com, through which I learned that "Jargon" is basically poking fun at the whole wine-critique culture (and by association, my blog?). It is grown in California by the Trinchero Family Estates, which also encompasses several other well-branded wines. I can't find anything online about the process from vine to bottle, probably because of the rebel nature of the label. But I would guess it was aged in stainless steel or concrete, since there wasn't any oak in the flavor.

The easiest way to explain this wine is that it was much more like a white than red. It was simple and fruity and reminded me of the Manischewitz they serve for church communion. The sweetness was thick with cherries, and the tannins were barely noticeable. I've never had such a bright Pinot Noir, and I honestly think anyone would enjoy this wine. Adi and I liked it, anyway.

It was the perfect wine to loosen the hips for salsa. After a glass, we joined the class and I learned some pretty sweet moves. I'll definitely be back next week to learn more, and maybe review a new bottle!