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.

Round Hill 2008 Chardonnay

Adi has the best roof ever - even better than my roof, which is quite a statement. You can see the entire city from it, including the Monument (far right in the picture) and the Capital (picture too crappy to see). After (a looooong day of) work on Wednesday, I headed to his place for an Indian dinner with a view. He made spicy turkey with potatoes and chapatis. To accompany the meal, he offered a choice of Pinot Grigio or this 2008 Chardonnay. Recently, I've been toying with the idea that all Chardonnay might not suck, so I decided to test the theory.

This white is 96% Chardonnay and just a 4% touch of Muscat Canelli. In 2008, spring frost damaged the vines in California, so many grapes were lost and the remaining stayed relatively small. But apparently, small grapes can make better wines, depending on when in development they are deprived of water. Smaller grapes usually have higher sugar concentrations and intenser flavors. In red wines, the increased skin to pulp ratio makes for a more tannic wine as well. Although I couldn't find anything on its aging process, I assume there is some oak involved. Oddly, Round Hill recently started making an Unoaked Chardonnay that I've wanted to try.

Even with the oak, this was yummy. It was exactly the type of Chardonnay I've been searching for ... bright with a syrupy acidity, but the body and smoothness that a little oak offers. Though supposedly just 4% Muscat, the peachy sweetness was really noticeable (but not too sticky). This bottle was a really good compliment to the spicy Indian food and just a nice summer wine in general. It's listed online for $8, which seems reasonable. I recommend enjoying it on a rooftop.

Isola D'Oro 2007 Nero D'Avola

It's been a while since I grabbed a random bottle off the shelf and just went for it. Last night I was duped into buying this red from Sicily. It was "marked down" from $15 to $8 at Superfresh, and my inner bargain-hunter could not resist. Adi was cooking me an Indian dinner (and I wasn't much in the mood for a white), so I thought a Syrah might be a good match for the spice. I guess we will never know, because I accidentally grabbed this one... same winemaker, same price, identical bottle. Through my research, I've learned that Nero D'Avola is often compared to Syrah, so perhaps it didn't matter.

Nero D'Avola, indigenous to Sicily, means "Black of Avola," the southern town where the original vines were. Now Nero D'Avola is the mostly widely grown varietal in the country and Sicily's most popular wine. It is used to fortify weaker reds (which just means it gives them more body and color), but recently has grown in popularity as a solo varietal. This particular red is made by the Cantina Corbera winery in northwest Sicily, started in 1971 as a coop of farmers who survived a 6.4 quake that killed 236 and drove many others away from the area. Although Nero D'Avola has an affinity for oak, this one is aged in stainless steel. When a wine has an "affinity for oak," it means that aging it in oak barrels softens the tannins and complements the natural flavors of that particular varietal.

Perhaps this wine should have been aged in oak, because it tasted kind of like battery acid. Even the smell was harsh. On impact with my tongue, it was thin and tart, and even after a moment to get comfortable, there was no warmth or softness. The center was hollow and it even burned a little going down. This wine reminded me of the occasional sour green grape that everyone dreads biting into; I can't imagine choosing it, and I contemplated throwing the bottle out. But with a little air and most of my taste buds destroyed by the first few sips, the Nero D'Avola was eventually drinkable.

Luckily, the food was amazing (see photo for sev puri appetizer).

Penfold's Koonunga Hill 2008 Cabernet Sauvignon

Last night I went to VA for dinner with Sandie. It was Mother's Day and we were burying the ashes of her beloved Cinnamon (dog) who just passed away last week. Several of her neighbors joined the funeral and planted an azalea bush on top of the burial site. Sandie is a whole-heart-giving kind of woman, so this was a pretty emotional event. Actually, it was my first funeral. But from what I've heard, the best funerals are the ones where the sadness is followed by a kind of joyous celebration of life with friends. So that's what we did. We made pizzas with a ridiculous pile of toppings - chicken, olives, cilantro, red peppers, broccoli, & swiss. The neighbors brought a big salad, and we opened Sandie's favorite wine, Penfold's Cab Sauv.

I've seen this wine at the store before, but never had a chance to try it. Penfold's Koonunga Hill is much better known for their Shiraz Cabernet, which has been around since 1976. Penfold's owns a large number of vineyards all over South Australia, and Koonunga Hill in the Barossa Valley was planted in 1973 with only Cab Sauv and Shiraz grapes. The soil is described as red-brown earth over heavy clay. Clay stays cool and holds water well, which causes the grapes to ripen slower and become more acidic and complex. The winemakers age only a portion of the grapes in American oak so as not to overpower the fruit in the flavor.

This Cabernet tasted good. It was rich but not too heavy, and the oak was barely there. The Cabernets I've tried recently have been quite flat, and I started to wonder if my tastes were changing. Sometimes Cabernet can be a little thin and boring, especially when tasted next to a Malbec or something, but this one was full of flavor without being super fruity or terribly tannic. The tannins added just enough dryness, instead of sticking on the back of my tongue like some. I think this bottle cost around $12, and it is definitely worth the price. It was great on its own and paired well with the pizza.

After dinner, we had coffee ice cream and Sandie played the piano for us. A lovely evening in honor of the late Cinnamon.

Bastide de Beauvert 2007 Cotes du Rhone

I forgot there was steak in the fridge. I had spent all day parked on the futon outlining Criminal Law, and it occurred to me that dinner would eventually need to be eaten. Miraculously, I finished my outline right around dinner time, and decided to celebrate with a little red meat and red wine. I pounded out a top round steak, rubbed it with a black pepper/grain mustard blend, and roasted it in the oven with sweet potatoes, onions and asparagus. All of this went over egg noodles with butter and the Grana Padano cheese leftover from last weekend. Of course Caitlin joined me for dinner, and we opened a bottle of Cotes du Rhone I took a liking to at wine tasting a few weeks ago.

The wine was a $10 blend of 70% Grenache and 30% Syrah. I strategically selected it for the spice in the Syrah and the sweet balance the grenache contributes. While this wine is classified as a Cotes du Rhone, about 90% of the grapes actually come from a region known as Cotes du Rhone Villages Laudun. A small amount of wine from the actual Cotes du Rhone appelation is added, allowing the wine to take that name. The difference in the regions lies in the soil; the Villages Laudun area is mostly limestone, while the Cotes du Rhone is sandy. The less acidic limestone soil produces a softer aromatic wine than a traditional Cotes du Rhone.

I guess it's not really like opening a present if you already know what's inside. Whenever I open a bottle that I've brought home from wine tasting, I pretty much expect that nothing gross is going to come out of it. But I must say, I was quite proud of the food pairing. By itself, this French blend was fruity up front, with a light but flavorful body and tangy dry finish. With the buttered noodles and sweet potato, the wine's dry kick softened and the sweetness in the butter and potato emerged. All the sharp edges rounded and it was like someone coming home to her lover after a day off hustle and bustle. Nestling into the peppered mustard and red meat, the Cotes du Rhone unraveled and shed its tangy bite in favor of a sweet kiss. Corny? Yes. Delicious? Yes.

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...