Champion Wine

(In the name of love)

It's Sunday night, and all around my apartment are happy folks overindulging in several of the seven deadly sins, but specifically celebrating Pride. I'm not a big one for the whole Pride thing, not because I'm ashamed of being gay, but rather because I think that being gay is essentially a neutral thing, something more or less uninteresting.

But here Wade and I are, in the heart of the gayest place on earth - a sort of pink Disneyland. What are we doing? Talking about moving.

Wade has plied me with a few glasses of wine to get me going about our impending move to Austin Texas. More importantly, he cooked steak frites for dinner...

Wanna celebrate Pride like us any day? Try this:

-Entrecôte is called Ribeye in the US, go to your butcher and ask them to cut your steaks on the thin side (about 1/2 to 3/4 inch). Rub the steaks with olive oil, and salt and pepper them generously.

-You can make plain old oven fries (we actually usually use the Alexia brand), but they're a hell of a lot better if you actually fry them in oil - follow the instructions on the bag, it's really not that hard.

-Heat up a cast iron skillet until it's smoking, add a touch of oil, then lay the steaks in the pan and leave them alone until it's brown and crispy along the edges, flip it over and finish for a couple minutes, but leave it pink in the center.

-Put on some good music, Serge Gainsbourg, Jaque Dutronc, Françoise Hardy, etc...

-Serve the steak with some grainy french mustard. We also have a nice little salad of Mâche in a light vinaigrette.

-Drink some wine with  this. I find that good steak frites and a nice gulpy, light, red wine enable you to drink a glass or two more than you might would normally. Wade's usually good for half a bottle, usually he drinks Coke Zero.

Navarro 2005 Anderson Valley Pinot Noir is what we drank tonight, and it was pretty tasty, if a little over-ripe for my taste.

Peirre-Marie Chermette 2005 Fleurie les Garants is what I would drink if I had my druthers - I know Wade would agree. Just a flat out delicious bottle of wine, the kind that makes you wish that the glass was bottomless and the steak without end.

p.s. Don't blog drunk!!!

p.p.s. Everyone who's reading thing really needs to buy at least a couple bottles of Domaine la Pepiere 2005 Muscadet Classique, track it down, get it nice and cold, and share with friends - you will NOT regret it!!! (I mean seriously, it's only $10.99, everyone should be drinking buckets of this stuff all summer long.)

Dirty Martini, clean Pyjamas

Wine, ain’t it great?

Yeah, well, in the last week or two I have actually been drinking a lot of gin. I heart gin. It’s like taking a break from wine – I don’t really know a whole lot about it (it’s a grain spirit, infused with various and sundry herbs, then redistilled) so I don’t get caught up in the particulars, I just enjoy it.

I enjoy it most in the form of a martini, in my case a dirty martini (I love the saltiness of the olives). I’m no expert bartender, and this is certainly not a revolutionary martini method, but I’d like to share my favorite martini with you in the spirit good will. I hope you’ll mix one up this weekend, let the cool bite cut through the warm weather, and think about the wonders of the world – I’ll do the same. So, here’s my martini recipe:

Paul’s Dirty(ish) Martini:
-First, store your gin in the freezer, so it’s already icy cold. (don’t worry if you haven’t done this in advance, just put the bottle there for the next round).

-Take a large glass or cocktail shaker, and fill it with ice.

-Take your glean martini glass and fill if roughly two-thirds full of gin, I’ve been using Hendrick’s lately, but it’s fun to try different kinds. I also have a bottle of a really cool french gin called Magellan in my freezer, it’s made with Iris root & flower, so it’s a pretty blue color – it tastes great, but gives me funny dreams.

-Dump the gin from the martini glass into your shaker.

-Fill the martini glass with ice, and pour in a little bit of dry vermouth (Noilly Prat is what’s in my fridge), let it sit while you stir the drink.

-Add a splash of the brine from a jar of pimento stuffed olives into the shaker. I’ve tried this with fancy spanish olives and have to say that good old fashioned stuffed green olives work best.

-Stir the gin and brine together in the shaker – yes, stirred not shaken, shaking the cocktail melts more ice, and requires an actual shaker. This way, you can make it in any old glass.

-Dump the ice out of the martini glass slowly, letting the vermouth coat the side of the glass. Then put three olives in the glass.

-Pour the martini over the olives. I just use my fingers, but if you have a cocktail strainer use that.

-Drink slowly, then repeat.

More Spiel...

When I was thinking about starting my blog, my biggest concern was follow-through. Would I have the discipline to update content on a regular enough basis to get repeat traffic to the site? Would I be able to come up with enough to say to not only keep myself interested, but also give people a reason to want to read what I have to say? I suspect that ponderous musings aren’t what keeps people’s attention, but it has been a couple weeks since I’ve posted anything, and I need to get back into the routine.

The difficulty in talking about wine is figuring out who you’re talking to. There are an almost infinite number of wine geeks, lovers, critics, and spectators currently spewing word upon word of thought pollution into the interweb. The world does not need another opinionated nerd sharing his thoughts on why Chateau Musar is fantastic.

Largely thanks to my dear friend Matt, I seem to be attracting a bunch of readers who enjoy wine, drink on a regular basis, but don’t necessarily understand all the arcane details. I’m used to the educating people about the particulars of wine, I think I’m pretty good at it. It’s difficult to find a way to convey the basics, to tell a story that’s been told a zillion times, in a way that is interesting and new.

I’m writing these posts for my friends and peers. Folks who care about art and culture. Adults who still feel like kids, who listen to eclectic music, watch small budget films, read graphic novels, and consider graffiti art. I’m not so sure it’s anything new, but we’re a generation of people who care about culture, who are concerned with the quality of what we consume, who are interested in how things are made, not just the end result. Perhaps it’s just the typical refusal of the previous generation's way of thinking, perhaps it’s just a trend, but today more and more people are thinking about culture as something more than the items we consume.

Wow – this is getting really ponderous…

I’ve had this conversation with every person who will allow me to talk about wine. The people who think twice about shopping at big-box retailers, buy organic produce at their local farmers market, attend art openings and local music venues, are knowledgeable about design and fashion (without being slaves to trends) – these are the people who I want to start a dialogue with. You’re reading this blog because you’re looking for information, a different point of view. You want to understand wine, you want to know what’s good, what’s cool even, but you don’t necessarily have the time to dedicate to learning all there is to know.

Wine is just like any other cultural product. It’s an agricultural product, crafted by human beings. Like food or art or music, wine can say something about where it came from, how it was made, who made it. There is a wine mainstream, there is a wine underground. A product like Yellowtail is even more insidious than Starbucks or the GAP, because folks don’t understand the difference between the factories that pump out millions of gallons of wine, versus a small independent producer, growing their own grapes and making their own wine.

Phew… I needed to get that off of my chest. I sort of needed to clear all of these thought out of my head so that I could get back to the business of actually writing about wine. Thanks for humoring me, and thanks for coming back after my hiatus. Until my next post, which will actually be about wine, I’ll leave with some recommendations on what to drink this weekend.

La Cruz de Comal Cohete Rojo - I am obsessed with the idea of regional American wines, as well as wines made naturally. California nut-job Tony Coturri makes this TX wine. Organically grown grapes, nothing more (no cultured yeast, no sulfur, no nothing) go into this wine. Freaky, furry, and immensely interesting. Hard to find, even in TX, but worth checking out.

Val de Sil 2005 Montenovo Godello - Super tasty, cheap, light wine from Spain. Don't need to say much more. Just get some, get it REALLY cold and before you know it you'll have drunk a whole bottle yourself.

Yello Wine

Here’s what I know about the Jura…

The Jura is in eastern France, bordering on Switzerland, northwest of Geneva. (Wade and I were in Geneva a couple years ago, the high price of the Swiss Franc and the fact that we literally drove around the same loop for an hour trying to get out of town didn’t leave either of us anxious to head back – we did eat some decent Mexican food though.) The French Alps along the border are known for making great cheese – the most famous is Comte. There have also been a number of successful archaeological digs in the area – Jura is the root for Jurassic, but as far as I know, neither Cut Chemist or Chali 2na are from the area. Louis Pasteur did most of his research on fermentation in the area as well.

The wines from the region are interesting, and entirely unique. The green hills of the Alps are largely used for grazing cows, but there are pockets of vines. The vineyards grow a handful of grape varieties, some familiar and some unique to the region – Chardonnay and Savagnin for white, Pinot Noir, Trousseau, and Poulsard for red. From what I’ve heard, the locals believe that Chardonnay and Pinot Noir originated in the area before heading west to Burgundy, and Savagnin (often called Traminer locally) is an ancestor of Gewurtraminer.

I keep saying this – fruit is not what’s interesting about wine. In the Jura this is immediately obvious. The reds are pretty straightforward, Pinot Noir tends toward a certain lightness and floral aromas, Poulsard makes lightly colored pretty wines (often barely darker than rose), and Trousseau can be like a cross between Pinot Noir and Gamay, with a bit more earthiness. The whites are where things get interesting. There’s a range of styles from dry to sweet, bubbly and still, and then there’s Vin Jaune.

Cremant de Jura can be nice little sparkling wines, usually drunk in the region, but if you find a bottle it’s worth checking out. Dry whites in the conventional style are quite nice; Chardonnay ranges from medium-light to moderately full body, and can be unoaked or slightly toasty, but always with a nice earthiness from the clay coil of the region, Savignin (no that’s not a typo) makes crisp wines, with pleasant acidity.

I use the word “conventional” to contrast with the classic styles of white from the Jura. When wine ages in barrels, there is a slow evaporation through the pores of the wood – the wine lost through evaporation (the Angel’s Share) is replaced so that the barrels are always full, this practice of “topping off” the barrels keeps unwanted bacteria and oxygen out of the barrel so the wine stays fresh. The Jurassiens do it a bit differently – for certain wines the barrel is never topped off, as evaporation takes place a film of bacteria develops on top of the wine, this film allows for a slow exposure to oxygen, and imparts earthy flavors. Basically, the wine is allowed to spoil, but in a controlled way. Wines made in this way are called “sous voile,” which translates as under a veil.

Any white wine from the Jura could potentially be sous voile (often the label won’t tell you, so you’re going to have to ask your merchant). Wines from Arbois and l’Etoile can be made in this style, or not. Recently I’ve enjoyed a sous voile l’Etoile (how can you not like a wine called “the star?”) that I sincerely think I could drink exclusively for the rest of my days.

The big daddy of sous voile wines is Vin Jaune – made from Savagnin, and aged in barrel for a minimum of 6 1/4 years (yes, six years and three months, I’m not making that up - thanks to Olif for the correction) before it’s released. Vin Jaune is traditionally bottled in a 620 mL bottle called a Clavelin – the rest what would typically be 1000mL is lost through evaporation during the ageing process.

What does this all mean in the glass? Well, on the most basic level it means that lots of people are going to think that Vin Jaune is rotten. I had Wade taste some once, and he spit it out saying, “I know that flavor, I don’t like that flavor.” The taste is definitely very strong – that flavor is called Rancio. Rancio is a very complex taste, not unique to wine, it’s sort of like Umami in that it’s not salty or bitter, rather it’s a kind of nuttiness (often likened to rancid walnuts). Think about how coffee can sometimes literally smell like shit, or caramel sometimes tastes slightly bitter and you’re heading in the right direction.

I fucking love the stuff. I’ll admit that my experience with Vin Jaune is far more modest than I’d like it to be, but I’ve never met a bottle I haven’t liked. I did a tasting a while back for some friends (David, who requested this post was among them) and it blew everyone’s minds. The flavors of these wines are incredible. They’re dry, and almost salty, with that super nutty aroma and vibrant acidity. The oxidation keeps the wines from being tart, and the extended age gives depth and complexity to the flavor. You can taste notes of walnut, dried apricot, toffee, curry, and candied citrus. The wines are meant to age (and they will age for forever and 6 days), but I’ve not yet had the privilege to enjoy anything older than the mid 90’s – in other words, current releases.

With our tasting, we snacked on Jurasien cheeses, Beaufort and Comte, and I’ve never tasted a wine & cheese pairing that was so completely harmonious – the combo made you taste something that you never knew was missing from both elements. The wines also went really well with roasted walnuts, and dried apricots. The big surprise (suggested by Ed Bair in the Art of Eating, who wrote an incredible article about the wines and the region last year) was how perfectly Vin Jaune played with dark chocolate.

I’ve been writing these posts about the basics of wine, and I don’t want anyone to get the wrong idea - this is AP stuff. Most people, when tasting Vin Jaune, or even a young sous voile wine like l’Etoile, are going to HATE it. Isn’t that what makes life interesting though?

Some wines to search out (added June 9):

Tissot NV Cremant du Jura

Jacques Puffeney 2004 Arbois Trousseau Les Bérangères

Domaine de Montbourgeau 2002 l'Etoile (my current favorite)

Jacques Puffenet 1998 Vin Jaune

Also check out the super informative site of Berthet Bondet. If you read french, one of the best wine-bloggers around is located in the Jura - le blog d'Olif.