Wine of the Week - Terrebrune Rosé and Tapenade

I've lived in New York essentially for my whole life (there were four years of college in the mid-west and a year in Southeast Asia and India). I've never seen a June like the one we just had, with rain almost every day, skies overcast. We had 18 days straight of rain at one stretch.

But you know what - it's still summer, and I'm taking every chance I get to treat it as such. For example, the other day while my daughters were both down for their mid-day nap, even though the sky was white, and the air thick and humid, I found myself thinking of rosé and tapenade. Probably because Bert of Wine Terroirs and I had been emailing recently about the glory of Bandol wine, and I recently re-read his post about this classic Provence pairing.

Bert says that it is easy to make tapenade - all you need is some olives, garlic, anchovies, capers, and lemon juice. A food processor helps, although a mortar and pestle is fine too. My kids nap for about two hours in the middle of the day. Could I make tapenade, enjoy it under gray skies on our deck, and still get some work done while they sleep? The answer, I'm happy to tell you, is yes.

Not a bad lunch on a humid and gray day. A food processor would help.

I used just over 6 ounces of pitted kalamata olives, one large garlic clove, two anchovy filets, about two tablespoons of capers, and the juice from half a lemon. I don't have a food processor, although we've been meaning to buy one for months. The mortar and pestle was fine though. Start by pounding the garlic with the anchovies and capers. I buy capers packed in salt usually, but for this dish it seemed better to buy a jar of large capers packed in water. Put the creamy garlic/caper mash in a bowl, then pound the olives - I had to do this in two batches. Add the olives to the caper/garlic/anchovy mash, and add the lemon juice. Stir well, and spread on slices of a baguette. My tapenade was not as creamy as Bert's, but there's only so much you can do with olives in a mortar and pestle. And coarse tapenade tastes great too.

The sun poked through the clouds as I was choosing a rosé, and I realized that celestial forces were telling me to open the very best Provençal rosé that we have. There are many fine rosés from Bandol, and every Bandol lover has his or her own favorite. Right now, mine is Terrebrune, and so I opened a bottle of the 2007 Domaine de Terrebrune Bandol Rosé, $25, Kermit Lynch Imports. Bert wrote a truly great profile of Terrebrune, and I won't waste space paraphrasing him.

Just look at that gorgeous orange color.

Terrebrune's rosé is made from the same low-yield, top quality Mourvèdre as is the estate's famous red wine. It offers rich and delicious fruit, and also a strong sense of the mineral soils that make up Terrbrune's vineyards near the sea. It is a rosé that typically benefits from cellaring. In fact, in its youth it can be quite wound up and intense, even difficult to drink. It has the classic and beautiful color that many Bandol Mourvèdre based rosés have, a deep coppery orange.The 2007 Terrebrune rosé is 50% Mourvèdre, 30% Grenache, and 20% Cinsault. The nose is tense with minerals at first, and opens up to to reveal herb-infused fruit, 7 hours later the lavender is quite clear. The oxidative nature of this wine gives the fruit an orangey character that contrasts nicely with the tension of the minerals and herbs. I saved two-thirds of this bottle to enjoy with BrooklynLady that evening, and I don't think the nose ever finished opening, although it certainly was lovely. This wine really glides across the palate with great textural richness. It is not heavy or sweet, but it is an intense and big rosé, with sunny seaside fruit flavors, a metallic mineral frame, and a nostril-filling fragrance. It demands food, and it worked perfectly with the assertive flavors of the tapenade. I hope I have the self control to cellar one or both of my remaining bottles of this wine. I would love to see how it evolves with say, 10 years. But it's just so good now, this will not be an easy task.

By the way, one thing that I particularly love about Terrebrune's wines is that they defy the trend towards higher alcohol in Provence. Not just the rosé, the red Bandol too. The 2005, the current vintage on NYC shelves, is a completely reasonable 13% alcohol. Perhaps wine maker Reynald Delille is using modern equipment to de-alcohol-ize the wine? Unlikely. But I would love to attend a presentation in which he and other Bandol producers discuss vineyard work, cellar work, and alcohol levels in Bandol over the past 15 years.

By the Glass - Top Quality Muscadet Edition

I tend to think of Muscadet as a winter white wine, a wine to drink on a cold January night with a plate of raw oysters. I bet I'm not alone in this - Muscadet and oysters are a classic and wonderful pairing. But the best producers in Muscadet are now making wines that, in my opinion, are versatile enough at the table to transcend the oyster stereotype. Perhaps even the seafood stereotype entirely.

It's not just any Muscadet that I'm talking about, though. I'm talking about fine wines by a handful of great producers, like Marc Ollivier of Domaine de la Pépière, Pierre Luneau-Papin, Jo Landron of Domaine de la Louvetrie, Guy Bossard, and André Brégeon. These producers make wines that offer ocean side aromatics and flavors, but also herbal notes, and even, heaven forbid, beautifully expressive fruit.

I recently had the opportunity to drink several of these wines over dinnerwith a group of friends. The overall quality level was simply astounding, especially given the fact that none of these wines retails for more than $25.

NY Bossard-Thuaud Vin Mousseux, $18, Chartrand Imports. This is Guy Bossard's sparkling wine, made mostly of Melon de Bourgogne (the Muscadet grape), but there is also some Gros-Plant and Cabernet Franc in the blend. There aren't many under $20 sparkling wines that are as good as this one. The nose is leesy at first, and there are fine mineral and lemon zest aromas. The fruit is perky and ripe, there is good acidity, and the finish is clean and brisk.

Our bottle of 2007 Domaine de la Pépière Muscadet Clos des Briords was corked, sadly, as was our 2005 Luneau-Papin L D'Or. I've warned people about drinking wine with me, that I am a magnet for corked wine now, but they just don't listen.

2006 Guy Bossard Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine Expression d'Orthogneiss, $19, Kysela Imports. Yes, Bossard's still wines are imported by a different company. 2006 wasn't the greatest vintage in Muscadet, but this is great wine. Shy at first, but the nose opens up to reveal beautiful floral notes. Great purity and freshness, like spring water. good acidity, and an energetic lemongrass finish that makes me think of pairing this wine with Thai style roast chicken or spring rolls.

2007 Domaine de la Louvetrie Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie Le Fief du Breil, $18, Martin Scott Imports. One of my favorites every year, this seems to be a particularly excellent vintage for this wine. The nose is leesy and rich, and very expressive with anise, herbs, and ripe citrus fruits. The palate is quite closed still, but the raw material is obviously very lovely, with hints of fruit, wet rocks, and ocean water. I'm putting mine away for 10 years minimum, and when I crack the first one it's going to be with a simple roast chicken, and braised fennel.

1997 Luneau-Papin Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine L' D'Or, $23, Louis/Dressner Selections. Recently re-released by Dressner. Next to the above wines the nose here is much more mature, with wild mushrooms in the foreground and the immutable brine and citrus aromas underneath. A truly compelling nose that was at its most expressive a solid hour after opening. The palate was as youthful as the 2005 I had a few months ago. This wine seems as if it could do another 15 years in the cellar without blinking. If I have the good fortune to drink this again, I hope it is served along side a plate of wild mushrooms cooked with nothing other than butter and perhaps some thyme.

We then moved on to drink two very special wines, wines that according to David Lillie of Chambers Street Wines, might represent the future of Muscadet. Within the rather large AOC that is Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine, there are certain parcels that offer particularly high quality, parcels that some growers are vinifying separately in order to showcase the specific terroir. These wines are typically aged on the lees for much longer than is allowed under the current rules, and ironically cannot be labeled Sur Lie. In fact, these wines are sometimes not labeled as Muscadet, That's how different they are from Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine, or more aptly, that's how annoyingly absurd the French appellation systems can be. I think of these wines the way I think of Burgundy wine - they are highly site specific. Domaine de la Pépière's Granite de Clisson is an example of this kind of wine - a superb wine last produced in 2005. We did not drink that wine on this night, but we did drink two others that were perhaps equally wonderful.

2002 Luneau-Papin Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine Clos des Noelles Excelsior, $22, Louis/Dressner Selections. I'm going to come right out and say it - I LOVE THIS WINE. From vines at least 60 years old in the village of La Chapelle-Heulin, aged on its lees for three years. The nose is brisk and mineral, but with a nutty depth, and with lovely ripe fruit. I was once poured this wine blind and the first thing I said to my friend was "Well it's obviously a Muscadet." It is the essence of everything Muscadet, but more intense and delicate and deep. Brilliant purity on the palate, great acidity, very youthful, this wine will clearly reward long term cellaring, and somewhere down the line I think will make a great cheese partner.

2000 Michel Brégeon Muscadet de Sèvre et Maine Gorgeois, $22, Fruit of the Vines Imports. From vines in the village of Gorges where there is apparently a special black granite that gives this wine its unique character. We were advised to give this wine a lot of air, so we decanted it for 2 hours prior to drinking. It was absolutely beautiful wine, my favorite of the night. The nose was focused and energetic with detailed notes of licorice and lemongrass, and ripe fruit that had a tropical edge to it. Someone said pineapple. Very intense and rich on the palate, buzzing with energy, many layers of fruit and minerals, and a long finish that ends where it started, with licorice and lemongrass notes. I want to drink this wine with tea smoked duck. Who are you to stop me?

Wine of the Week - Bernard Baudry's Rosé

Bay Area wine blogger Cory Cartwright is celebrating the 1st anniversary of his blog Saignée by hosting an event that he calls "31 Days of Natural Wine." Cory writes passionately about the wines he loves, and about his life in the Bay Area and beyond. His blog is always interesting to read and his writing style is off-beat and truly hilarious. I am honored and happy that Cory asked me to participate, and this post also appears on Saignée as the Day 8 post in "31 Days of Natural Wine."

I'll never forget our visit to Domaine Bernard Baudry in Cravant les Coteaux, right outside of the town of Chinon. It was November of 2005, BrooklynLady and I went to France together for the first time. A day or two in Paris, but most of our time was spent exploring Vouvray, Montlouis, Tours, Saumur, Savennières, and Chinon. Our visit to Baudry began with a bit of an adventure. I drove our tiny jittery rental car from the hotel in Chinon to the estate, but via the bumpiest of unpaved back roads surrounded by forest, passing no one and nothing, unsure of the proper route. We eventually arrived a half hour later, but only after some treacherous driving and several stops to ask directions. Upon arriving we were warmly welcomed by Bernard's son Matthieu who told us that Baudry's house and estate can easily be reached via one of the main roads out of Chinon, perhaps a 10 minute drive. My wife looked at me with what has become a familiar facial expression, a crooked smile that says "You sometimes amuse me in your ineptitude and dorkiness, dear husband."

Matthieu showed us cement vats full of fermenting juice - we saw and smelled the glorious 2005's as they bubbled away, turning sugar into alcohol. I climbed a tall wooden ladder and stuck my head in one of the vats. Pungent, and also not easy to breathe - not a lot of oxygen. Everything was immaculate, even the antique tools hanging from the wall. We saw the vineyards surrounding the house, and then joined Matthieu in the house's tasting room where we sampled everything from the most recent Croix Boisée Blanc to the new lineup of reds to a 1996 Les Grezeaux, a gorgeous wine.

Matthieu Baudry is in his mid thirties, married with two kids, properly schooled and internationally experienced in wine making, and now working with his father at the family estate. He is an absolutely lovely person, so warm and friendly, and genuinely interested in sharing his wines. I've had the pleasure of meeting him several times since that visit, at tastings in New York, and he continues to embody the good things about being a wine maker.

The Baudry wines are in my opinion, the very finest in Chinon. They are transparent in the truest sense of the word - the fruit is exceptionally pure and clean, the sense of soil is prominent, and changes in character with each cuvée, reflecting the specific terroir. You can smell and taste the gravelly soil in Les Granges, the richness of the clay in Les Grezeaux. But the Baudry wines also offer beautiful concentration and richness - these are not light wines. The marriage of transparency and concentration is what makes these such special wines, for me.

Baudry's wines feature a striking absence of anything that might impede the delivery of soil via fruit. Herbicides are never used, and all chemical treatments are widely avoided. Everything is done by hand, from yield-control debudding to harvest, and all wines ferment via naturally occurring yeasts.

As much as I adore the Baudry red wines, the rose has a special place in my heart too. The 2008 Bernard Baudry Chinon Rosé, $18, Louis/Dressner Selections, is 100% Cabernet Franc from two different parcels, one with flinty clay soils, and the other sandy gravel. The grapes are macerated in the press for a short time, technically making this a Rose de Pressurage (Pressed Rosé or Pressed-out Rosé). The wine then ferments in vat for as long as it takes to fully digest the sugars, a few weeks, sometimes months. "The vinification is quite similar to that of a white wine, as we want the wine to be dry (less than 3 grams of sugar/liter). That way, we can bottle the wine with just a very light filtration and very small doses of sulfites," Matthieu Baudry wrote in an email. This wine was bottled in mid-April 2009, and is more widely available this year then I remember in years past. Which is a good thing.

This is a very special rosé with an entirely different aroma and flavor profile from what you're used to if you drink Provence and similarly styled rosés. Drinking it blind I defy you to guess it a rosé - it smells kind of rosé, but drinks like a white wine. The nose offers vibrant and pure strawberry fruit and summer melon, spicy white peppercorns, and with a little bit of air, roses. It is a gorgeous nose, robust and delicate at the same time. The wine is superbly balanced on the palate with fresh orchard fruit, a primary white grapiness, perky but gentle acidity, and a fragrant finish that really lingers. This is a rosé of great presence and distinction. It compliments anything that you would normally eat with a crisp white wine, and also typical rosé summer BBQ and picnic foods. I haven't tried this pairing yet, but something tells me that this wine will be beautiful with fresh goat cheese.

Thanks again Cory for including me in your celebration of natural wine.

"Hold on - Do I Like Châteauneuf du Pape?"

That was the question I asked during a great night with friends, dinner, and lots of wine. I served three courses, each paired with a wine poured blind. I knew the wines - I selected them to pair well with the food I was serving. But my friends didn't. This is lots of fun, especially if it's not competitive, if it's about throwing out preconceived notions based on labels and prices and reputations. If it's about stimulating thoughtful discussion about wine. And it does, every time I do it.

My friend Asher drinks a lot of Rhône wine. I'm discovering a taste for the Syrahs of the northern Rhône, but I haven't had a Châteauneuf du Pape that I really like, never mind a Gigondas, or Vacqueyras. I'm just not a big Grenache fan I think. But I've had maybe 10 of these wines though, so there's not a lot to go on. Anyway, my generous friend Tista gave me the gift of a bottle of 2003 Château Rayas last time I saw him, and I figured that it would be nice with our cheese course. And how much fun would it be to serve this iconic wine blind to a Rhône nut? Lot's I guessed.

The wine was incredible, it lived up to the hype. The nose really bounced out of the glass with spicy raspberries, incredibly fresh and pure. There is some mint, some soil, and a great herbal undertone. A tremendously pungent nose that got more and more arresting over the half hour I savored it. The palate showed a teeny-weeny bit of alcohol heat, but was otherwise completely delicious, with silky smooth tannins, great purity, vibrant acidity, and an intense finish that really lingered. And this is a 2003, mind you - an outlier vintage of ridiculous heat that challenged many a vigneron's ability to create balanced wines.

People mostly thought this was a Burgundy, that's how delicate and translucent it was, and how fresh and spicy. When I unveiled the wine there were gasps of "No way, Rayas!" Asher declared it to be the Châteauneuf du Pape of the vintage, something I cannot comment on because I've had only one other from 2003. But everyone agreed - impressive wine, to say the least. And you know what - at about $135, it darn well should be.

Then it was Asher's turn. He opened a bottle that he brought, a bottle that was great fun, but that virtually ensured a hangover for all the next day. He served it to us, blind like the other wines. I could tell without even tasting that it was a Burgundy, a big and ripe example, with a heady fruity perfume. Perhaps it was also 2003? Tasting it made me reject 03 - too well balanced and controlled. Spicy orange notes on the palate to go with ripe dark fruit and finely grained dusty tannins that offered ample structure, very well balanced, and a lovely dark fruit and soil perfume on the finish. Some resiny pine notes with air. The wine felt mature, but the fruit was so fresh and youthful. I guessed it to be either a 2002, or perhaps a 2000 from a top producer and a top site. Since the wine had a masculine feel to it, and because it had that orange-spice note, I guessed that it was from Gevrey-Chambertin. I actually felt pretty confident about my guess, and I was thinking of how to politely accept the congratulations from my friends as Asher unveiled the wine.
It was another Châteauneuf du Pape, the 1999 Vieux Télégraphe la Crau. Hmmm. No congratulations for this Brooklynguy, as it turned out. Beautiful wine, though, really compelling. And hold on - Do I Like Châteauneuf du Pape?

Two Kinds of Ripe

Lars Carlberg recently left another informative and interesting comment on this blog, this time to the post on Domaine Tempier's 1994 Bandol. Lars, Mosel wine exporter, wine lover, and wine thinker extraordinaire, lamented the fact that alcohol levels are consistently higher now in so many wines from Bandol and Châteauneuf du Pape.

Alcohol levels are typically at least 14% now in wines from those places, regularly hitting 15%. Until a decade ago, alcohol levels were typically about 13%. That increase of 1-2% represents 10-15% more alcohol in the wine, a significant increase. Why has this happened? I do not have a definitive answer for you, but Lars talked about phenolic ripeness and I want to explain what I think he meant - it's an interesting and counter intuitive idea.

First of all, the amount of sugar (measured in Brix) contained within grapes determines the potential alcohol level of the resulting wine. Bandol reds and also those from Châteauneuf du Pape, like most red wines, are fermented until dry. If alcohol levels are higher now, then it seems clear that grapes are now picked at sugar levels that are higher than they used to be.

Why would there now be more sugar in Bandol and Châteauneuf du Pape grapes? Perhaps it was a collective decision to pick later, encouraging maximum ripeness. But I don't think that's the answer. There are wine regions in which the prevailing style is to leave the grapes hanging as long as is safe to do so, producing ultra-ripe grapes that in turn produce huge, fruity, high alcohol wines. I don't think that's what they're going for in Bandol or in Châteauneuf du Pape.

So what's else could be behind the increase in alcohol levels if it's not a conscious decision to pick later? Well, it turns out that there are two types of ripeness. Sugar ripeness, but also something called phenolic ripeness. As Jamie Goode's describes in an excellent article that goes into far greater detail than I do here:

Phenolic ripeness (also referred to as physiological ripeness) refers to the changes in the tannins that occur in grape skins, seeds and stems. Sugar ripeness refers to the breakdown of acids and accumulation of sugars.

The tannins in grape skins, stems, and seeds have to be ripe in order for wine to taste and feel right in your mouth. Under-ripe tannins can taste green and astringent, unpleasant. But sugar ripeness happens earlier than phenolic ripeness. So grapes that hang for a long time and achieve ultra-ripe sugars also achieve very good phenolic ripeness. Think of that California fruit bomb that exhibits loads of fruit and almost no structure.

It's warmer than it used to be, so shouldn't ripeness occur earlier? Sugar ripeness - yes. Phenolic ripeness, not necessarily. What if grapes achieve sugar ripeness before phenolic ripeness is achieved? The grower must then either pick early, perhaps making wine with astringent tannins and a green streak, or must allow the grapes to hang longer, achieving higher sugars and wines of potentially higher alcohol. This is what I imagine is happening in Bandol and in Châteauneuf du Pape, and in other hot weather wine regions too.

Global warming, as GW Bush said, is a load of hogwash spread around by environmentalist pagans. That wisdom notwithstanding, harvests that used to happen in late September and into October are now complete by mid September. In Bandol they're getting the right sugars, but they cannot pick grapes with unripe tannins. The wines are already notoriously tannic - imagine a big Bandol with unripe tannins. So they have to leave the grapes for longer than they'd like, and the wines are higher in alcohol.

Perhaps they will start making off-dry wines in Bandol and Châteauneuf du Pape, in order to bring the alcohol levels back down. Or perhaps they will plant different grapes that require more sun in order to ripen. Or perhaps, truly fine red wines made from Mourvèdre, Grenache, Cinsault, Syrah, and the other southern grapes, will in 30 years be coming from the more northerly climes of Beaujolais and Burgundy. Or perhaps producers in Bandol and Châteauneuf du Pape will be forced to start de-alcoholizing their wines, and using all sorts of other unnatural processes in order to make balanced wine.

None of this seems good. I'm buying hillside land with good exposure in Scotland and Greenland. Anyone want in?

Wine of the Week - Syrah from Pierre Gonon

2007 Pierre Gonon Vin de Pays de l'Ardèche Les Iles Feray, $17, Imported by Fruit of the Vines, Inc. Jean and Pierre Gonon are among the remaining handful of truly old-school producers in the northern Rhône Valley. Gonon's red wines bear little resemblance to those massive Syrah's that ooze with concentrated gobs of fruit. It's not that the wines are light - they are not. They are concentrated and intense, but they are also balanced and fresh, and I have yet to drink one that feels heavy. Gonon's St. Joseph is really is a wonderful wine, showcasing the nobility of the Syrah grape and the St. Joseph terroir in their meaty and mineral glory. The whites can be utterly incredible too, by the way, but this is a red wine post.

Although Gonon's St. Joseph is quite reasonable in price at about $30, for me it is too expensive to be an everyday wine. Gonon's Vin de Pays, or country wine retails for about $17, which becomes about $15 with a mixed case discount - that's a pretty mellow everyday wine price, and especially if the wine is distinctive. And it is truly excellent wine. This is a Syrah from the hills of Ardèche right near St. Joseph, but it also includes grapes from young vines within St. Joseph.

I had low expectations for this wine. The first bottle I opened was tremendously corked, and a friend whose palate I trust drank the wine and gave it a poor review. And I will say this - upon opening this wine is pretty tough - off putting really, with resin and highway tar dominating the nose, totally unappealing. Bad enough to consider pouring down the sink. Perhaps another flawed bottle?

We left it sitting there open for an hour while cooking and when we returned it became really lovely. It is about meat and blood, pepper and tar, and wild animals, much more so than it is about fruit. A savage nose, quite pungent, but also exceptionally pure and pretty in its wildness. With another hour open floral aromas emerges, some bergamot even. Vibrant acids keep the wine juicy and fresh. The finish is deeply mineral and here the dark blue fruit emerges. Such a disjointed start, but this is excellent wine, and a fantastic value in old world old-school Syrah.
It paired perfectly with a blood-rich cut of beef, a skirt steak. But it was not so intense as to overpower our early summer salad of candy-striped beets, young carrots, and ricotta salata. It is not a casual sipping wine, food is a must, and preferably something meaty. I could see this wine turning into pork broth after 10 years in a cold cellar. While it's young, I suggest opening it at least an hour in advance of drinking.

The Pickyeater's BBQ

I was lucky enough to be invited to Keith Levenberg's BBQ again this year. Last year at this event I drank a few great wines that were completely new to me. Again this year a clutch of lovely people assembled on the roof of a building in Chelsea, again we had great weather, again Keith grilled a bevy of truly excellent steaks, and again everyone brought some sort of interesting wine that they wanted to share with the world.

I didn't take notes because I thought it would be more fun to enjoy the party, to speak to other people. I finally met Michel Abood in person, Manuel Camblor too, and many other good folks. There were some great wines, many of which fall outside of my typical experience. Here are some that moved me, along with a few impressions:

1995 Mount Eden Chardonnay Santa Cruz Mountains - if California wine tasted like this, I would drink lots of California wine. And by the way, put this up against a lot of white Burgundy from the same year and this will come out ahead, as there is not even a hint of oxidation. This wine was so fresh and well balanced, so utterly and completely delicious. Pure and intense fruit, secondary mint and soil, a mature richness that really lingers. Top notch wine.

1999 Trimbach Gewurtztraminer Cuvée des Seigneurs de Ribeaupierre - an Alsace Gewurtztraminer with some bottle age...yum. Actually, the nose was the star here, not to knock the palate which was lovely, but the nose was so complex with typical Gewurtz tropical fruit, but with such an elegant and mature tone. Really intriguing wine.

1981 Bodegas Riojana Gran Riserva - I don't know which Gran Riserva this was, as there are several, but whatever it was, it was fantastic. Such a clearly defined nose of bloody meat and metal, dried cherries, and rocks. So gentle for such a powerful wine. Antique in character, youthful in its power, this was just great wine. Why did they stop making wine like this in Rioja???

1996 Michel Lafarge Beaune 1er Cru Grèves - I had so much fun drinking this wine. I wasn't collecting wine when this was released, and it's a real treat to get to drink a wine like this. Seemed austere at first, but actually it wasn't - it's just old-school Lafarge. The fruit was incredibly pure and the wine was perfectly balanced, and so the acidity of the vintage was the most obvious characteristic of the wine. But it had a quiet intensity, and was absolutely lovely. I want a bottle for myself, and perhaps a Burgundian cheese plate.

2007 Jean Foillard Morgon Côte du Py - really a pretty wine with lively and enticing fruit, and it puts on weight with air time. Elegant in body, crystal clean and pure, perfectly balanced - delicious wine. Not as meaty as the 2006, but more elegant. Great Beaujolais.

I was eagerly anticipating drinking the 2000 Bruno Clair Savigny Lès Beaune 1er Cru Dominode, but it was corked. People hanging out with me should know this - I am a magnet for corked wine right now. Clearly I am unclean, and if/when I get better I will let you know.

It's not easy to decide what wine to bring to this sort of event. It's a bunch of wine geeks - I wanted to bring something of the highest quality, but also something unusual. So I decided to bring a bottle of Equipo Navazos Sherry La Bota de Fino "Macharnudo Alto" Nº 15. Most were unfamiliar with this wine, and many of them were not terribly interested in Sherry. I can understand that - Sherry is still unusual for most people, and alot of it just isn't terribly special. But this is Equipo Navazos Sherry we're talking about, and it is as special as Sherry gets. "The Real Jay Miller," a bit of a legend in NYC wine circles, was well versed in Equipo Navazos wines. In fact, he told me, Jesus Barquin of Equipo Navazos is a friend of his, and would be coming to the BBQ later on in the evening. How's that for a coincidence?

Jesus came, he saw, and he most assuredly conquered, bringing with him a bottle of Equipo Navazos Jerez-Xérès-Sherry La Bota de Manzanilla "Las Cañas" Nº 16. Tasting these two amazing wines side by side, listening to Jesus Barquin discuss them, I think I finally understood the difference between Manzanilla and Fino. People tend to speak of these wines as if they are exactly the same, only that Manzanilla comes from nearby Sanlúcar de Barrameda. Perhaps that is true when the wines are not individually distinctive. But these wines from Equipos Navazos were cousins at best. The Fino, a wine that I think of as light and elegant (and that is light and elegant), seemed positively brawny next to the Manzanilla's ethereal texture. Both smelled of the sea, but the Manzanilla was imposibly light, with only wispy hints of almonds on the nose and a ballerina's touch in the mouth. The Fino was more assertive and more definitively structured, and a bit more pungent. I loved them both.

Now THAT'S a BBQ.