My San Francisco Restaurant Experience

Thanks again to you all for your thoughtful recommendations. General impressions? From the very small sample I experienced, SF chefs are clearly concerned with the freshest and most seasonal of produce, and they clearly have access to high quality material. Seafood was uniformly excellent. Service was uniformly friendly and competent. Reservations were uniformly hard to come by. Wine lists were not terribly exciting, but there was almost always something good to drink. Very high quality food is available, and if it were NYC, it would be two-three times more expensive and created in a far more precious atmosphere. Overall, I had a great eating experience and look forward eagerly to the day I can go back.

I ate dinner at Bar Tartine and it was outstanding. It's a comfortable and stylish space without any pretense. We tried 8 dishes and all but one was excellent, a few were superb. The assortment of pickles was skillfully done - the apex of pickling, if you will. Red cabbage, for example, was enlivened with just the right touch of ginger. Mushrooms were toothsome and not oily at all, chioggia beets were draped in buttermilk and the result was thick but lively, and completely delicious. Terrine of beef tendon with horseradish and fresh greens was complex and delicious. Raw halibut with seaweed was excellent, so was fisherman's stew with green chili, so was spätzle - the lightest I've ever had. We drank two excellent wines with this feast. 2004 Karthäuserhof Eitelsbacher Karthäuserhofberg Riesling Spätlese was in a great place for drinking, so balanced and lovely, so good with the food. And 2010 Knoll Riesling Smaragd Ried Schütt, which was young, reduced, and altogether reticent, but still after 45 minutes showed how good it's going to be. We loved our dinner at Tartine and I would recommend it to anyone without hesitation, and I cannot wait to go back myself.

I ate lunch at Hog Island Oyster Company before heading to the airport on a Sunday, and it was outstanding. Now, none of you mentined Hog Island in your recommendations - you said Swan Oyster Depot (which I drove by one evening and looked great). But I met a guy who left NYC in '06, a guy who had been one of my closest friends and who I haven't seen since then. We were near the Ferry building and that's where we went.

We ate oysters - couldn't tell you what kind, other than that some were Kumamoto. They honestly were as fine as any oysters I've had. So fresh and briny sweet. There was nothing terribly compelling to drink. I went with a bottle of Henriot NV Blanc de Blancs, and I must say that it was great. Focused, chalky, classic. Clam chowder was delicious too. This was a lunch I would happily eat once a week for the rest of my life, and my excitement would never ebb.

That same buddy and I ate an impromptu early dinner at Commonwealth one night. We tried to go to State Bird Provisions, but could not get in. We arrived at 5:07, the restaurant opens at 5:30, and there was already a line of about 24 people in front of us, none with reservations. That place must be interesting, and probably quite good, and one day I will try again. Commonwealth was a fantastic replacement. Okay, so I was with a good old pal and we would have had fun wherever we went, but Commonwealth really delivered. So comfortable and airy, everything so beautifully presented, so fresh and balanced in flavor. We had the tasting menu and it was a perfect meal. Yup, I said perfect and I mean it.

Not a whole lot of wine that I wanted to drink, and I was warned that this would be the case. But then I noticed they had Philipponnat Champagne NV Brut Royale Reserve, the entry level wine from this great house. I'm pretty sure this was based on the excellent 2008 vintage, it is predominantly Pinot Noir and like the Henriot, it was a reminder of how great even basic "big house" Champagne can be, when made by the right folks. This wine was excellent, something to seek out and drink for yourself. The commonwealth folks put a bowl of homemade potato chips sprinkled with seaweed in front of us as the wine was opened. Not an entirely bad combination. Then they came with an amuse of raw yellowtail with thinly sliced jalapeno, also pretty good with the Champagne.

And then another amuse of lovage stems with some sort of whey/herb frothy situation, and it was very, very good. And only after these items did our 6-course tasting menu ($70, $10 of which is donated to charity !) begin.

We ate smoked sea trout with trout eggs and horseradish buttermilk powder - chemical cookery there, and quite delicious. These portions, by the way, were generous. This meal would have cost $175 at least, before wine, in NYC. I hate that.

Then we ate what I would say is the single best thing I ate in SF, called eggs and asparagus on the menu, but it was about the sea urchin. Served atop a seaweed brioche with asparagus, egg mousse, pickled horseradish leaves, and whey foam - I think it was whey foam.

The salad of mizuna, black radish, and goat cheese with green strawberries (the new hottest food item?) and fennel pollen was mild, earthy, and delicious. My friend didn't love it, and I can see how that is possible, as it wasn't a viscerally delicious thing. But I thought it made sense in its own composition, and in the place it was served in our meal - after the amuses and the seafood courses, almost to calm us down, to recalibrate us, before the sweetbreads.

Which were excellent, perfectly cooked, served on fava and nettle porridge and topped with pickled mustard seeds. I'm not a huge sweetbread fan, but I was sold on these. And this was followed by the most perfect small glass of celery sorbet. I don't even need to describe it further - perfect. The peanut butter ice cream bar with salt caramel sauce and "frozen popcorn" was seriously excellent too, but the sorbet stole my heart, in the sweet department. Wow - Commonwealth.

I took a long walk from the Embarcadero to the Mission one day and ate lunch at Local's Corner. Everyone I mentioned this to said they like Local's Corner, and I liked it too, but I didn't love it. There was no wine I wanted to drink and the beer taps were down, but my lemonade was very good. People were genuinely friendly, and it felt good to be there.

The pickles I ordered were excellent, but mostly it was the tart, sweet, green strawberries - filled with fresh strawberry taste, but green and pickled. Spring garlic soup was the emperor's new clothes, so mild and milky that there was nothing to latch onto. And trout with spring peas and pea tendrils was admirable in its simplicity and freshness, but was under-seasoned. Salt would have been enough (but there was none on the table, of course). The earnest chefs in the open kitchen looked like they stepped right out of Taconic on Bedford, so that's something. I would go back if some one else suggested it, but I doubt I would return on my own.

Zuni Cafe was a bit disappointing.The food was tired, that's the best way to describe it. Nothing was plated in a terribly attractive way, salads were overdressed, lamb was underwhelming, but none of this mattered one bit because I was with good friends and had a ball. I don't remember what I had for dessert but it was delicious. But I suspect that this place is past its prime. One thing - we drank very well at Zuni - Larmandier-Bernier Blanc de Blancs was delicious, as was 2010 Roulot Meursault (!). We had a weird experience with our red wine, but that's a story for another time.

Oh, and by the way, I stopped by Terroir one late afternoon, not having planned to, but I was 3/4 of the way through a tremendous walk, and it was relaxing and nice. The dudes who worked there were friendly and there was a load of enticing wine on the wall. Not a lot of which was actually for sale at Terroir, but that's fine. After asking for 5 different wines that turned out not to be available, I took the guy's recommendation and drank a glass of 2009 Puffeney Savagnin. It was delicious and I enjoyed taking it upstairs and lounging on a comfy club chair, leafing through Jay McInerney's wine book.

Local's Corner and Zuni aside, it's obvious to me from Tartine, Commonwealth, and Hog Island that there is fantastic eating to be had in SF. Thanks again for your recommendations.

Stony Hill - A Visit to the Iconic Napa Valley Winery

It was a glorious Saturday, sunny and warm but not too hot, clear blue skies, and I was with people I work with, people who have over the years become good friends. I had never before been to the Napa Valley, or to any California wine region. We drove north from San Francisco and at times it was startling in how lovely it was. As we approached Napa we hit traffic, the first sign of the popularity of this place as a tourist destination. I saw a sign for Domaine Carneros and then another for Beaulieu Vineyards. We saw large flat vineyards with rows of skinny vines supported by posts and wires, all draped with thin hoses for irrigation purposes - it gets very hot in the Napa Valley and months can go by in the summer without rain.

We, however, were going to visit Stony Hill, the iconic Chardonnay producer, physically located in the tourist carnival that is the modern Napa Valley, but philosophically located somewhere else entirely. Sarah McCrea, the granddaughter of the founders of Stony Hill Winery, and its current Sales and Marketing Director, told us to drive through St. Helena 3 miles past the Chevron station and onto Bale Grist Mill road to find Stony Hill. We literally inched through traffic, finally reaching the town of St. Helena. It took us almost an hour on a Saturday early afternoon to drive perhaps 10 miles, allowing us plenty of time to look at the various shops of St Helena. I saw that I could buy some very cool and fancy outfits for my dog, if I wanted. I'd have to get a dog first, I suppose. I saw a restaurant that looked like what a Hollywood producer's stylized image of a rural California lunch counter should have looked like circa 1972. It looked good.

And then, finally, Bale Grist Mill Road. We began to climb and immediately we left the tourist world behind for this one lane country road.

Luckily one of us saw the sign for Stony Hill.

We drove by a vineyard whose vines were thick and gnarly, old-looking, without irrigation hoses - just vines.

We arrived and were greeted by the very friendly and genuine Sarah McCrea, and her mother Willinda, who said hello and went back to work in the office.

Stony Hill Winery was created when Fred and Eleanor McCrea bought this land in 1943. They planted Chardonnay grapes in 1947 and offered their first wines to friends in 1952. The vines are a lot older now, younger McCreas run the place, there is some new equipment and the barrels turn over, but not a whole lot else has changed. Obviously this in itself says nothing about the quality of Stony Hill wine, but it happens that Fred and Eleanor got it right in the first place. The vineyard plots are mostly exposed to the east, and are on hills with natural springs running underneath - this is how they avoid having to irrigate in the intense heat and dry Napa summers. They ferment and age their Chardonnay in old neutral wood, preferring to highlight the natural aromas and flavors of their grapes, and they avoid malolactic fermentation, preserving the intensity of the acidity in their grapes. People who know about Stony Hill have for decades prized their Chardonnay for its purity and grace, its unadorned intensity and complexity, and have appreciated its ability to improve with time in the cellar.

Sarah took us to see the vineyards and the barrel room, and Milo the Stony Hill springer spaniel accompanied us on our walk.

As we walked from the offices, it was immediate and apparent how far away I felt from the tourist road, how bucolic the scene was.

We walked past a plot of Chardonnay vines and saw beyond that another plot of old Riesling vines.

I looked back at the offices and tasting room and thought, "I could live here."

The old vines were vaguely anthropomorphic in appearance.

They seemed so sturdy and weathered, such beasts compared to the delicate grapes they would give forth, to my untrained but highly opinionated eye.

I looked closely at a Riesling vine and saw that budding had actually begun - early this year, Sarah said.

We reached the barrel room and press. Stony Hill is famous for Chardonnay and produces about 3,000 cases in a typical vintage. There is also a Riesling, a Gewurztraminer, a Semillon sweet wine, and now a Cabernet Sauvignon - first commercial vintage is 2009. There's not a lot of wine, and unbelievably to me, Sarah says they still sell the majority via their mailing list. I guess that makes sense, actually. Why give money to a middleman if people are willing to buy direct?

  

Inside the barrel room we sampled the new Chardonnay vintage, the 2012. Sarah said it was a great year for Stony Hill, as opposed to 2011, which was very hard for everyone in the Napa Valley. 2012 produced balanced wines that show the typical Stony Hill intensity and purity, she said. If the barrel sample I tasted is representative, I wholeheartedly agree. The wine was fragrant and intense with fruit and rock and left a lingering spicy and almost grassy taste after swallowing.

I have been drinking Stony Hill wines, when I can find them, for a few years now. I love the Chardonnay because it is delicious and unadorned and it seems to me that it expresses the greatest aspects of Napa Valley terroir. It is rich and intense - this is a hot place. But it is also acidic and finessed - Stony Hill vineyards are 600 feet above the valley floor. I asked Sarah why her family chose to plant Chardonnay instead of Cabernet, the more popular grape.

"At the time we first planted Stony Hill, no one had really given much thought to where certain grapes should be planted," Sarah's father wrote in an email. "My father just planted what he liked, which was Chardonnay, and three other varieties that U.C. Davis suggested - Pinot Blanc, White Riesling (then known as Johannesburg Riesling), and Gewurztraminer. It turned out that because of the eastern exposure the property was ideally suited for growing white grapes. By the time we needed to replant the vineyard, we had already become quite famous for our white wines, so changing to reds didn't make much sense. It is worth noting that our new Cabernet comes from a relatively new vineyard that has a western exposure that is more suitable for growing red grapes."

We walked a different path back to the tasting room and again I marveled at the scenery - we were way up in the hills here. Does wine made here, in this style, resemble the more industrial wines made on the valley floor?

If you visit Stony Hill you will not taste old vintages, it's not that kind of place. You will taste whatever is current, whatever they still have in stock. And as fun as it is to taste the wines, the viscerally moving aspect of the visit is walking the vineyards with Sarah, Milo, and whoever you came with, experiencing this place high in the hills.

But taste you will, and we did this in a lovely outdoor garden in back of the office area. A happy little pig watched over us from the side of the office.

We tasted 2010 Chardonnay (utterly delicious - the best of the recent Stony Hill vintages I've tasted), 2011 White Riesling, 2009 Cabernet Sauvignon (restrained and expressive, very impressive!), and the 2010 Semillon sweet wine.

As we sipped and talked, we looked out onto a plot of Syrah, relatively young, planted in 1998. This is sold only to wine club members, along with another rarity - a rosé of Cabernet Sauvignon. I've often thought that Syrah and other Rhône grapes should do very well in the intense heat of the Napa Valley - I bet that Stony Hill's Syrah is excellent and I hope to taste it one day.

Tasting these wines I could feel how different they are from the typical Napa wine. These are made to showcase the juice from the grapes grown on their hillside vines, and the soils they come from. Nothing more, nothing less. Now that I've seen the gorgeous setting where these wines are grown and made, I feel like I have a richer understanding of why these wines smell and taste the way they do.  And the prices are quite reasonable - current release Chardonnay shouldn't cost more than $45. I think of Stony Hill Chardonnay as the best wine, dollar for dollar, that's made in the US, but take that with a grain of salt, as I have less experience with California wine than some who are better qualified to make such a statement.

If you haven't tasted a Stony Hill wine, you should. It may change your mind about what the Napa Valley is capable of.

And Now, For Something Completely Different

The other night a good friend of mine came over for dinner. He's also a wine lover, but his cellar is full of current California Cabernet and modern day wine from Bordeaux. Trust me though, he is a truly lovely guy. He arrived at my house carrying a 375 ml bottle of 2001 Turley Paso Robles Zinfandel Delinquent. This is a late harvest dessert wine that is not available in stores. You have to be on the Turley mailing list to be offered the wine, and apparently not everyone on the mailing list has access either. It's some sort of Turley secret society, perhaps.

I will be honest here - when my pal showed me the wine he brought, I felt a bit concerned. It's so far away from everything that I drink and love - what if I didn't like it? I didn't want to be faced with the choice of critiquing my friend's wine, a wine he loves, or fibbing about liking it. Happily, I never had to make that choice. I didn't love the wine, but it was quite interesting and I'm glad I got to try it. Actually, my friend was more critical of it than I was. And I will point out that this is not the first time in this blog's history where I have been surprised at liking a Turley wine.

First, the problems: the wine showed a lot of alcohol. It wasn't so intrusive at first, but 15 minutes in and the alcohol took over the nose, a rubbing alcohol aroma. It ebbed and flowed, but there was no mistaking it. The label says 20% alcohol (and 9% residual sugar), so I suppose that it isn't strange to sense it on the nose. Still, this wine is not handling its alcohol well.

That's it - that's the only problem with the wine, if problem is defined as "flaw." Other than that, I was surprised at how much I enjoyed it. There were articulate chocolate and orange aromas, and also something that reminded me of the medicinal herbs that I sometimes smell in northern Italian wines. The palate was spicy raspberry liquor that was very intense without being cloying or heavy. It's a dessert wine made of Zinfandel - not something that I will buy, but by being open minded I found that there were some things to enjoy there.

I worry that I might not be open minded enough. Not saying that I should spend more time with California wine, or give the Aussie Shiraz a fair shake. But it's easy to set my mind within the regions that I do know and love, to have decisions already made about which Beaujolais I love, which Vouvray I want, which Burgundy I will buy for young drinking, that kind of thing. This Turley dessert wine was a nice reminder for me that my preconceived notions are valuable and I've earned them through my own experiences, but it is wise also to be open minded, to be eager, almost, to be wrong.

Further Adventures in Blind Tasting

A lot of people don't like blind tasting, but I enjoy it a lot. The point for me is not to try to guess the wine, although that is fun and definitely a part of the learning experience. The point for me is to remove a very important stimulus from the experience of evaluating wine - knowing what the wine is, and whether or not I'm "supposed" to like it. I like to think that I'm not so superficial that I cannot separate my evaluations about a wine from my preconceived notions about that wine. But still, it's good to check in on these things from time to time.

My favorite way to blind taste is to get together with a group of friends and ask everyone to bring a bottle to serve to the group. The key, obviously, is to gather people who will enjoy the experience of evaluating wines while blind, not people who will view this as a competitive event in which they must guess wines correctly or be embarrassed.

My friend Tista was in town recently and I decided to use his visit as an excuse to gather some friends and have a blind tasting dinner. Everyone brought a bottle to accompany a certain dish and we had a great time talking about the wines. Let me tell you people, as if you didn't know this already - blind tasting is rather humbling. But it can be great fun too if you're with the right people, and I definitely was. I'll share some of the details with you:

Tista brought a wine to serve with vegetable soup and he told us as the bottle was being passed around that the wine is not yet imported to the US. I liked it very much, with its red fruited nose, herbal notes, and its bright energy. I guessed a red grape-based wine from Champagne, probably Bouzy. One taster noted an oxidative note on the nose, which turned out to be rather astute as the wine is the first sparkling wine made by Equipo Navazos, the 2007 Colet Navazos, made from Xarel-lo (one of the Cava grapes) grown in Penedès. So with Bouzy I wasn't really so far off - same continent. But that doesn't matter, as I liked the wine, but I believe I liked it less than I might have if I had known it was an Equipo Navazos wine. It's possible, anyway.

Here was another great moment - I smelled and sipped a red wine that a friend brought to pair with an egg and mushroom custard. The wine smelled wonderful and it was just delicious. It had a vague cinnamon aroma that I associate with carbonic fermentation, and texturally it felt like high quality Beaujolais to me, but one with a little bottle age. There was a prominent tannic feel to the wine, but very fine tannins. All of the sudden it hit me, and I knew what the wine was. 2007 Foillard Morgon Côte de Py, I proudly declared. I beamed as I waited for my friend to reveal the wine, and started thinking about how to be graceful while accepting the amazed congratulation of my friends. "You might have noticed that it is a Bordeaux-shaped bottle," my friend said as he took the bag off of the bottle of 1998 Chateau Simone Palette Rouge. Everyone liked the wine, by the way. It was one that everyone agreed on.

Here was an instructive moment - some one poured a red wine that they brought to pair with slow roasted pork, and it was really a great wine. Lush and deeply fruited, silky and graceful, with a nose that gained in complexity as it opened up in the glass, showing floral and earthy notes. There was a clarity to the flavors, unadorned with any kind of excess. It felt like a mature wine but not an old wine, and I had no idea what it was. Some one said it was a Cabernet Franc. Sounded plausible, but it didn't remind me of the Cabernet Francs that I know from the Loire. Turned out to be the 1983 Opus One (!!!). This is a wine that I NEVER would select from a wine list, auction, or retail shop - not a wine that I would buy. Not that I'd ever tasted one (a taste once, but a newer version). Just based on reputation. This wine honestly was excellent though, and a very generous contribution to our evening.

I didn't get them all wrong, in case you were wondering. A friend brought another wine to pair with vegetable soup and as soon as I smelled it, without even tasting it, I knew that it was Gruner Veltliner, and it had this particular funky vegetal aroma that I associate with Grüner from the Wagram. I still had a modicum of confidence at this point, by the way, as vegetable soup was the first course and I hadn't yet mistaken Simone for Foillard, among other gaffes. Turns out that I was very close - it was the 2007 Ludwig Neumayer Grüner Veltliner Zwirch, from the Traisental. More importantly, while I haven't yet found the Wagram Grüner that I love, I really liked this wine, and it was best as it disappeared. It was pungent and pure and very nicely focused, a well balanced and delicious wine that was perfect with the soup, to which I had added a bit of dill and ground caraway seed.

There were many more wines that evening, many of them very good, I learned a lot, and everyone seemed to have a good time. You should try this sometime, a blind tasting dinner. It's good fun.

Spotted in a San Diego Grocery Store

We needed sunblock and diapers, so we drove to CVS, what I think of as a pharmacy, but I now understand is really a grocery store in San Diego. They sell everything, from lawn chairs to perfume to wine.

Something like 35 states allow grocery stores to sell wine, and California is one of them. New York is not one of them, although there is a new proposal that would change that. There have been many such proposals, and all have failed.

I've already shared my opinions on the question of whether or not NY grocery stores should be allowed to sell wine, so I won't rehash it all now. I will tell you, though, that from what I've seen on the shelves in California groceries, well managed wine shops have nothing to worry about. The groceries (and pharmacies, I guess) are selling mass produced wines, wines that are inexpensive and rather common. And for the folks who simply want a bottle of something cheap, isn't it convenient that they can buy it with the rest of their groceries?

The domestic section had a reasonably wide selection of wines, all under $15. The imported wine section consisted of Yellow Tail, and a few other brands. I'm sure that there are Grocery Stores whose wine sections offer more than this one, but even so, I fail to see how something like this could threaten a decent wine store. If this CVS were in NYC, directly across the street from Chambers Street Wines, would Chambers' sales decline?

Chambers Street Wines, and the other retailers in NYC that I count among my favorites, serve a different group of customers from those who would buy wine at this CVS - these are two different markets. Chambers Street is a specialty shop, and they wouldn't be hurt if market regulations are relaxed any more than independently owned bakeries are hurt by bread sales in grocery stores. The bakery that sells Pepperidge Farm and other mass produced bread cannot compete with the grocery store, yes. But a bakery exists to separate itself from the bread masses - they offer a different product to a different customer. There are loads of successful bakeries, some of them chains, others exist as single locations. Some of them are even located near grocery stores that sell bread!

Wine stores that exist to sell half-pints of Georgi, lottery tickets, and jugs of Carlo Rossi will probably go out of business if the legislation passes. But the stores that provide a thoughtfully selected and well priced product will do just fine. Is CVS or Gristedes really going to sell Clos Roche Blanche, Chandon de Briailles, or anybody's Hermitage? I just can't see it. That's wine specialist territory.

A 5 minute drive from the CVS will take you to a little wine store that I've come to like in the few years that I've been coming to San Diego. CVS, Target, Bev Mo, and others are right next door - literally all within a mile of each other. But this place is always bustling. There is always some kind of tasting going on at the back counter, sales people stand in conversation with shoppers, there are high-priced Burgundies and bargain bins alike to poke through, there is a pretty good Champagne selection, and the prices are very good, at least compared to what I'm used to in NYC.

The other night we drank a fantastic bottle of 1996 Fleury Champagne, $55 Terry Theise Selections (I guess Fleury used to be part of the Theise book) that I bought from this store. When in San Diego, if I want to buy wine I'm going to this place. If I need diapers, perfume, a prescription filled, or a lawn chair, I might go to CVS.

Market regulation is a good thing when the normal functioning of a market has unintended or unwanted negative consequences. Like the market for bundled mortgage-backed securities, or the market for coal - those markets, when left to their own devices, produced all sorts of unwanted negative consequences and should be regulated by government. The NY wine laws are the worst kind of market regulation, preventing nothing harmful and existing solely to serve special interests. I hope that one day we can get rid of them.

What I Drink Makes the Yankees Win

They say that one of the first signs of insanity is the belief that one can somehow influence completely random events. I will stand in exactly this spot with my feet angled at 45 degrees, and when the subway stops the doors will line up with my feet and I will get on first, and perhaps get a seat - that kind of thing.

Maybe I am going insane, but I like to think of it as healthy superstition. It's October, the time of baseball playoffs, and the Yankees are back in it. It is clear to me that my own beverage consumption while watching the games is impacting the results. If you can decipher the pattern, please feel free to indicate as much in the comments. I think I've got it figured out, but I will test my theory tonight during game 6. Here's what's happened so far:

Game 1 (Yankee Stadium) - I brought a 6-pack of Weihenstephan weiss bier, or wheat beer, to a friend's house. The beer is excellent - fruity, clean, thirst quenching, bitter and sweet at the same time. The Yanks play well, the Angels play poorly and make key errors, Yanks win.

Game 2 (Yankee Stadium) - I bring a bottle of Claux Delorme to another friend's house. We decant it, it's delicious. When it's gone we enjoy the previous night's leftovers - 2002 Stony Hill Chardonnay. The game goes into extra innings, and we drink a 375 ml of 2003 Suduiraut Sauternes. The Yanks dramatically tie the score in late innings during the Stony Hill, and win a thriller in the 13th inning.

Game 3 - (Anaheim) - I have the remnants of a cold, I stay home and listen to the game on the radio (we are prehistoric and do not have a television), I drink nothing. The Yanks waste a great pitching performance by Andy Pettitte and lose a game they could have won - key mistakes killed them.

Game 4 - (Anaheim) - I again bring a bottle of Claux Delorme, this time to a third friend's house. We begin by drinking his 2007 Pinon Vouvray Silex Noir leftovers, and then drink the Delorme, again, just delicious. The Yanks dominate the Angels, winning 10-1.

Game 5 - (Anaheim) - I go back to game 2 friend's house. Deetrane comes over too. I bring Delamotte Brut Rosé Champagne and we drink it as the Yanks quickly fall behind by 4 runs. My friend opens a 1995 Château Lafon-Rochet, from St. Estèphe. I'm skeptical of all things Bordeaux, but the nose is really lovely - very pure, which is not what I've come to expect. Bright red fruit on a cedar plank, vibrantly perfumed, really enticing. The palate is not as strong, a bit dilute in the middle and just not all that complicated, but at least it's not some spoofed up fruit bomb. Very drinkable and pleasing indeed. The Yanks stage a dramatic rally and take the lead in the 7th inning. The pennant is immanent. We finish the Lafon Rochet and Deetrane opens up a 2002 Panther Creek Pinot Noir Bednarik Vineyard. It's fine, but too much on the cherry cough syrup tip. The Yanks lose the lead, and then the game.

So what, I ask you, should I bring to my Bordeaux-loving friend's house tonight for the terribly important game 6? Suggestions welcome, although they will be Monday-morning -quarterback suggestions, as you'll probably read this Monday morning. Suggestions welcome anyway, and I'll let you know what we did tomorrow in the comments.

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.

It Comes in Waves

We had quite a streak, and I guess I shouldn't complain. For several months, BrooklynLady and I enjoyed opening our wine with dinner without running into a corked bottle. The generally accepted odds say that about 1 in 9 bottles of white wine will be corked, and about 1 in 10 bottles of red. So yes, we had been beating the odds for a while now. Funny, I used to think that I couldn't pick out a corked bottle. Now I know that I actually am quite sensitive to it. Sometimes I am underconfident about it though, and I have to let the wine sit for 15 minutes and try it again to make sure.

Anyway, our good luck ran out three weeks ago and we are mired in an extraordinary slump.It's getting to the point where I'm afraid to open wine - everything is corked. So no special wine lately, nothing from the cellar, only wine that is still on retail shelves so I can return it if (when) it is corked. You can't return a corked wine that you purchased more than a year or so ago, can you?

It started with Pierre Gonon's Vin de Pays de l'Ardèche Les Iles Feray in late May, and this was the first bottle in so long that I argued with myself for a while before accepting the truth. And the flood gates opened and a week later we had corked Shinn Rosé, and five days later it was corked Qupé Roussanne.

Tonight, merely two days after the corked Qupé, some friends invited us for a quintessential summer dinner of burgers off the grill. This guy likes Bordeaux, so I brought a wine I thought he would enjoy, a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah from Provence, a naturally made wine with beautiful aromatics and a real sense of place, the 2000 Domaine du Deffends Côteaux Varois Clos de la Truffière. I had it bagged so everyone could taste it blind and enjoy it without preconceptions - it should have been great with burgers and vinegary salad. But it was ferociously corked. And I hadn't brought a second bottle. Lame, lame, lame.

Is this my destiny for the nest two months? Loads of corked wine? And what are the rules, anyway, for wine that I've cellared if it's corked? Are there due process rules that I have to respect regarding the retailer? One day I'm going to open some fancy bottle of Burgundy that I've nurtured for 12 years in the cellar, something of which I could afford to buy only one single bottle...and it will be corked. And then, my friends, you will hear the sound of Brooklynguy yelling.

Wine of the Week - 2007 Qupé Marsanne

2007 Qupé Marsanne, $22 east coast price, out west it costs $18. I know, it's a California wine! You don't read about many of them on this site. This is a special wine, though, very much old-world in style. It is the antithesis of today's typical high alcohol, overripe, overblown California wine. I bought it on a hunch, knowing essentially nothing about the producer. I knew that Qupé wines are supposed to be good, but that's it. The blend caught my eye first - 88% Marsanne and 12% Roussanne, and I've lately been exploring white wines made with these and other traditional Rhône grapes. Then I saw "12.5% alcohol," and that sealed the deal for me.

Wine maker Bob Lindquist at Qupé is doing something that I think is extremely sensible. He grows hot climate grapes like Syrah, Marsanne, and Roussanne in the Santa Ynez Valley of California, where it is dry and hot, plain and simple. And he works in an old-world frame of mind, trying to make balanced and food-friendly wines, wines that improve with age. I emailed Bob to ask about this wine and the one of the first things he said is this:

Marsanne tends to lose it's acidity fairly quickly as it ripens. In
California, I think it's important to grow Marsanne in cool climate so it has better acidity and gets to physiological ripeness at lower sugars.

And this sensibility really comes through in the 2007 Marsanne. The wine is perfectly balanced, with great acidity supporting the ripe fruit. It is completely dry, yet the alcohol is impossible to detect. The nose is very fresh with floral and tropical hints, bitter herbs, and a waxy mineral underbelly. There is good structure and length and the wine has great texture. It does not have the intensity of say, the 2007 Gonon St. Joseph Les Oliviers, but it's just delicious, really a pleasure to drink. And it's funny - I looked on CellarTracker and the comments are not particularly complimentary. People don't think the wine has any fruit. Those people must be used to jammy wines that are in the new world style. The fruit in this wine is ripe and sweet, but it doesn't take over or define the wine.

The bulk of the Marsanne for this wine is grown in the Ibarra-Young vineyard, which Lindquist has farmed organically since 1999. Marsanne fruit is also purchased from several sources, also organically farmed, including Demetria and Purisima Mountain. Qupé grows Roussanne in their portion of the Bien Nacido vineyard, but the Roussanne for this wine is purchased from Stolpman. Changes are coming, as one source lost their 2008 crop to frost, another decided to keep their fruit, and Qupé has new vines in Edna Valley. But Bob Lindquist says that the style of the Marsanne will stay the same going forward.

The grapes are whole-cluster pressed, the juice is fermented in neutral barrels and goes through complete malolactic fermentation. It is bottled after between 5 or 6 months in barrel. 1533 cases were made in 2007, as well as 200 cases of half-bottles. Lindquist says that although the 2007 is delicious young (and it is), it will age very well. He has been drinking his 1994 lately, and loving it with maturity - "it gets honied and nutty."

It's still not in my plans to buy a load of California wine right now, but I do plan on buying more of this wine. In fact, one bottle will go into my daughter's birth-year case. It is delicious wine that does well with food - we enjoyed ours with roast Blackfish with capers and tarragon. I wonder, for what is a big step up in price, are the other Qupé whites equally compelling? Maybe I'll find them in local stores next time I visit my in-laws in San Diego, as I haven't seen them here in New York.

Obscure Grapes

I was lucky enough to be invited to a dinner at Wine & Spirits Senior Editor Tara Q. Thomas' house recently. Julia Harding, Jancis Robinson's Assistant Editor was in town, and she has a special interest in obscure grapes. That would be the theme.

What do you bring to a dinner like this? These are folks who are familiar with things that are obscure to me. My Mondeuse would be mundane, my Poulsard too popular, and my Clairette commonplace.

I left this until the last minute, and then went to Slope Cellars, one of my absolute favorite Brooklyn wine stores. Patty, one of the owners, suggested a red wine from Germany made of a grape called Dornfelder. I liked this immediately because I’m pretty sure it is also the name of one of the main characters from the hit 1980’s film Revenge of the Nerds. And also because Savio Soares imports it, and I trust him as an importer. I also chose a sparkling Scheurebe, another German wine, and another Soares selection.

When I walked in I was greeted warmly by Tara’s husband Robert who helped me unpack my wines and said “Oh nice, a Scheurebe. We just did a Scheurebe dinner, all Scheurebe, all the time.” He then went back to deep-frying chickpeas. Okay, so Scheurebe isn’t obscure in this house. But aha – I brought a sparkling Scheurebe, the NV Brüder Dr. Becker Scheurebe Sekt Extra Trocken, and Julia had never had a sparkling Scheurebe. This must, by the way, set the world record for the most times the word Scheurebe is used on a single blog post.

Who were the other guests at the dinner? Oh, just Ray Isle, Joshua Greene, and Jamal Rayyis, a prominent wine writer. They all have done a fair amount of wine tasting, you could say. In fact, everyone at this dinner has forgotten more than I know about wine. But they were completely easy going and were there to enjoy themselves, and enjoy ourselves we did. Here are the wines we drank that evening. If these are not sufficiently obscure for you, well you can host your own obscure wine dinner.

We began with the sparkling Scheurebe (off-dry, floral, interesting Wrigley’s Spearmint finish) and the 2007 Terre del Principe Fontanavigna Pallagrello Bianco, a weird white from Piedmonte. With deep-fried squid perfectly seasoned with sea salt and oregano we had the 2007 Botani Moscatel Sec from Malaga, Spain. This was my favorite of the evening’s obscure wines. It was fresh and clean with a primary white grape essence, and also a lovely green herbal finish. It paired perfectly with the squid. It is obscure in that it is a dry example of Moscatel.

With seared scallops and a puree of parsley and celery roots we had the 2007 Vatistas Kidonitsa, from Greece. I had never before had a wine made of Kidonitsa, but I was assured that it was, in fact, classic Kidonitsa in character. We also drank the 2005 Cellars Unio Roureda Llicorella Blanc, a white wine from Priorat made entirely of Pedro Ximenez, of Sherry fame. Apparently the white Grenache varieties are the common white grapes in Priorat. Had I tasted this blind I would have had to guess it was an oxidized Savagnin from the Jura, and I liked it.

We then drank the 1988 Chapoutier Chante-Alouette Hermitage Blanc, a fantastic wine that was rich and broad and still taut with energetic acidity. This was a beautiful wine that defies my compulsion to name specific aromas and flavors in a tasting note because it was just so harmonious and gorgeous. Marsanne, obscure? No, but this is a rare wine, and I certainly was thrilled to be able to drink it. Just gorgeous wine, memorable and inspiring.

There were merely two red wines. We drank them with a perfect brisket (although I refused to finish my Hermitage and nursed it throughout the brisket, and they paired perfectly). I brought the 2006 Latitude 50 Nektar, the Dornfelder. It reminded me of Pineau D’Aunis – peppery and leafy. But it didn’t have the acidity that good Pineau D’Aunis has and overall it was a bit clumsy. Maybe it just wasn’t a good example of a Dornfelder. The other red was the 2006 Ravenswood Old Hill Zinfandel. I have almost no experience whatsoever with Zinfandel, primarily because I've never met one that I like. This one was perhaps a bit more cut than most, the flavors more precise, but I still just don't get Zinfandel.

With apple crisp we had the 1994 Julius Wasem & Sohne Huxelrebe Trockenbeerenauslese, a German sweet wine made of Huxelrebe. And it was really good – great acidity, clean fruit flavors, unctuous without feeling heavy. We also had the 2007 Persimmon Creek Ice Wine, a sweet wine from Georgia (the state, not the former Soviet Republic). I think the grape is called Albarola. I can tell you that a guy named Dr. Sonny Hardman made the wine, and that he must be a man of vision. I mean honestly, who lives down in Georgia and decides not only to make wine, but ice wine?

Further Adventures in Blind Tasting

Here are five red wines. They could be anything from anywhere in the world. Would you like to taste and try to identify them...blind?

For some people, even experienced wine lovers, this is an exercise in apprehension and annoyance. For others, it is a pleasurable and challenging experience. I still find myself in the latter camp, although I am so woefully inexperienced in many of the world's major wine regions, you would think that I wouldn't want to play this game. I love it though, because it generates thoughtful and unbiased discussion, IF you're playing with cool people.

My pal Asher took me to his friend's party the other night and we played this game. Not all of us - most of the people there probably thought we were quite odd. But a few of us blind tasted five red wines and tried to name them. It was an especially pure test for me because I have no idea what this guy keeps in his cellar, no clue about what he likes to drink. Never met him before. So it's really just about trying to determine what is in the glass.

Depending on your point of view, I either stunk at this game, or maybe I was okay at it. With only one wine was I able to immediately say "this wine is from here and is made predominantly with such and such a grape." But I was close in weird ways on the other wines, and I was proud of my logic, anyway. Listen - this is not easy to do.

Wine #1 was the only one that I felt immediately confident about. It just screamed California Cabernet to me. Asher agreed, and then went further saying that it was from one of the vintages between 1993-1997. It turned out to be a 1994 Stags Leap Cabernet Sauvignon Fay Vineyard.

Wine #2 did not show much varietal character. It smelled like an old world wine and it felt pretty tannic with a roasted earth character. So I went with a Grenache based Rhone wine. It turned out to be a 2002 Domaine Virely-Rougeot Pommard 1er Cru, Les Chanlins (I think). I still maintain that there was nothing whatsoever Pinot about this wine. Asher basically nailed it, by the way. He guessed a 2005 Burgundy, young and tightly closed.

Wine # 3 was a total mystery to me, and it was a style of wine that I almost never drink. Heavily oaked, little varietal character that I could detect, not much to go on. The dominant smell was vanilla oak, and the nose reminded me of some of the modern Riojas I've tasted, so I went with that - a moderately aged, modern style Rioja. It turned out to be a 1997 Castello Banfi Brunello di Montalcino. Hey, same continent right? And I was correct in that it was, in fact, a red wine.

Wine #4 was super bright with cherries and acidity, full bodied, and also very tannic. It didn't seem like a baby, just highly tannic. There was a lot of oak on the nose. I again went with a Rhone wine, this time thinking Châteauneuf-du-Pape. It turned out to be a 1998 Paul Jaboulet Aîné Hermitage La Chapelle. Again, Asher basically nailed it. He called it as a Northern Rhone wine, but he thought it might be Chave. I swear to you, it didn't taste like Syrah. Don't worry, it's not you, it's me. I'm the idiot.

Wine # 5 was a tough one, everyone was completely stumped. I sensed a sea-water umami kind of thing on the nose that I've found before in mature Burgundy, although I wasn't getting much else in the way of Pinot character. And although the nose offered mature notes, it was still incredibly tannic on the palate, as if it was born a few days ago. With some vigorous swirling I got hoisin, anise, and other savory notes. Maybe this is a Burgundy with a few years on it, from a year like 1996 where the wines can still be tannic beasts at this stage. And the mouth feel and overall character of the wine could be Pinot - too light for the Bordeaux grapes. I was just guessing here, but I went with a 1996 Chambolle Musigny, and I threw in Les Amoureuses for good measure. Turned out to be a 1996 Prunotto Barolo Cannubi.

This was such a great exercise, and so much fun to do with people who were totally non-competitive and interested in discussing the wines and the enjoyment of tasting them. I've never had a Banfi Brunello before, or a Jaboulet Hermitage, or a Prunotto Barolo. And can you imagine the generosity of this guy, Asher's friend Bruce? He decides to have a blind tasting and these are the wines he opens when 20 people are wandering around his apartment.

So what do you think? Are my guesses completely lame, or do you see where I was going? Have you done this? How did it go for you?

What I Drank on my Summer Vacation

Do you realize that in New York City in just over a week from now, about 400,000 kids, literally, are going to write short essays with almost the exact same title as this post? Another summer comes to an end.

I love summer in New York City. Yeah, it's hot and humid and the streets can get a bit smelly, but it's beautiful in the evening, especially from our deck, with the light coming through the leaves. On the weekends it can get eerily quiet though, as people flee for the country. We were lucky enough to get out of town twice in August - a long weekend in Vermont and more recently, a week in San Diego and Portland.

Here are some of the wines we drank in Vermont with my pal Deetrane and his family:

2007 Domaine de 2 Anes Vin de Table Rosé, $14. This is my favorite rosé of the season at the under $15 price point. It's a deliciously fruity wine that retains interest and drinkability because it's also lively with acidity. This is a Grenache blend, a natural wine from the Jenny & François Selections portfolio. 2 Anes (2 Donkeys) is in Corbières in the Languedoc, although for some reason this wine doesn't have AOC status.

2004 Château Pontet-Canet, $41. Decanted for about 90 minutes and served with a beautiful porterhouse steak. People salivate over this stuff in their CellarTracker notes. I just don't get it. It's perfectly pleasant dark, rich and ripe wine, with nothing particularly interesting about it, no distinctive character. You're going to tell me that it needs 20 years in the cellar, that I drank it too young. Maybe it will improve with age, but it wasn't a knot of tannic structure or anything when we drank it. It was open and showing its primary fruit. And that's all there was.

1997 Chapoutier Côte-Rôtie, price unknown. Deetrane says that '97 was an off year in the northern Rhone. I really liked this wine - it was light in color and in texture, a highly perfumed jumble of floral and earth aromas. So much better with the porterhouse than the Pontet-Canet, in my opinion.

2005 A. et P. de Villaine Bouzeron, price unknown. This was a lovely gift from Joe when he visited a little while ago. I drank the 2006 and wasn't crazy about it, but this was delicious. Incredibly full bodied and loaded with sweet lemon fruit, and cut with good acidity. Very nice indeed, although it bares little resemblance to any Aligoté I've had - this is much fuller in body and in flavor. Yes, this is the DRC wine maker.

2000 Voirin-Jumel Champagne Millésimé, $37. This is a crazy price for this wine, or for any vintage grower Champagne, really. Gotta love Astor Wines. This is a rich Blanc de Blancs with mature notes, but it hasn't lost its youthful fruit yet. With a little bit of airtime there are broad aromas of roast nuts and biscuits and the palate is deeply mineral with good acidity, nicely focused. Astor still has a few bottles too...

On one of our nights in San Diego, BrooklynLady and I drove out to Bird Rock, just south of La Jolla to have dinner with Jeremy Parzen, the professor of Italian wine, and a few of his pals. What a night! I'm telling you, if you have the opportunity to meet up with a fellow blogger, to share a meal and some wine - do it. Some think it odd to meet in person with people you only know from the internet. There are times when it is weird, but this isn't one of them. You already know each other, in a way. And Jeremy and I slipped naturally into conversation as if we'd been hanging out together for years. A gentleman and a scholar, and his friends are nice too. We enjoyed some very tasty seafood at taqueria Bahia Don Bravo, along with a smattering of interesting wines. Here are notes on some of them:

2007 Robert Sinskey Vin Gris of Pinot Noir, price unknown. Each year this is without question my favorite American rosé. It's well balanced with delicious stone fruit and good acidity. Great with shrimp ceviche tostadas.

NV Guy Charlemagne Champagne Grand Cru Blanc de Blancs Brut Réserve, $40. Salty minerals all the way, great focus and acidity, fresh and light, almost sheer. Just delicious.

2000 Dessilani Ghemme Riserva, price unknown. Dr. J calls this "an outer-borough Barolo." I guess he means that Ghemme is close to Barolo the way the Bronx is close to Manhattan. And that you can eat good Italian food on Arthur Avenue in the Bronx for half what you'd pay in Manhattan. This wine was soft cherry earth deliciousness, so nicely balanced and food friendly. I enjoyed the complexity of aromas - smoky, fruity, earthy...excellent wine, and completely new to me.

1996 Fleury Champagne Brut Millésimé, $56. This is a crazy price for a wine of this caliber. I found it on the shelves at a place called Meritage in a mall near Encinitas. I doubt that they raised the price over the years that they stocked this wine. Live in or near San Diego? Like Champagne? This one is worth the drive, especially at $56. Beautiful mature nose of roast nuts, honey, and bitter minerals. Let this one air out a bit and it becomes truly beguiling. So elegant and poised on the palate, soft and creamy, but still very focused with powerful acidity. Just delicious wine.

Then there's the amazing dinner in Portland with Peter Liem and his friends. This post is long enough already though, so tomorrow you'll hear about the ridiculous wines we drank that night.

I Learned that I Know Nothing About Wine

The more I learn about wine, the more I realize that I don't know.

This was also true when I played a lot of chess, when I was getting into economics courses in grad school, basically anytime I've undertaken anything of any import. Even within the wine regions I know, I don't really know anything. I guess it requires some degree of experience and knowledge to understand how much there is that I don't know. For example, it's impossible to understand the vastness of chess until you study the game for a while. Same is true with wine, I would say. Exciting and frustrating at the same time, isn't it?

The other night I was lucky enough to go to Keith Levenberg's Wine-fest and BBQ, and I had one of those "I am clueless" experiences with wine. I tasted so many wines that are new to me. There were about 20 people present, most knew each other already, and everyone came with at least two bottles. I had never met any of these folks. They know each other from the E-Bob message boards, NYC wine dinners, and other wine-geek events. Very nice people in general, and lots of interesting wine. And Keith grilled up some delicious food too - lamb meatballs, several kinds of steak, watermelon and feta salad, and minty wheat bulgur salad.

I didn't even try to take any notes, so I cannot share the specifics of some of the wines. There was everything from Grand Cru Burgundy to Barolo to Sancerre rosé. Although no Bordeaux, if I am not mistaken. I drank my first Raveneau Chablis, my first Produttori del Barbaresco, and my first Musar. There was a Savennières, a Santaney, a Blagny, and all sorts of other good stuff. And drinking these wines, listening to others talk about them, thinking about them myself...I realized how little I really understand about wine, how limited are my experiences. There was a moment of hopelessness, but then acceptance, and then happiness thinking about all of the learning still to come. Okay, well maybe the happiness was in part due to the distinct lack of any sort of spit bucket.

Here are some of the wines that stood out for me:

1992 Edmunds St John Syrah Grand Heritage. Incredibly delicious wine. So pure, so layered, so satisfying. Out of all these amazing wines, who would guess that one of the most memorable would come from...California?

1991 Joseph Phelps Cabernet Sauvignon Eisele Vineyard. Smooth as silk, plush, just delicious. Another excellent California wine. Who knew. Do they still make 'em like this?

1999 Chateau Musar. What an amazing wine! Incredibly acidic, but in a good way. Spicy, fruity, vibrant and alive. The light and translucent color completely belies the wine's intensity. This is the one that I must buy for my own cellar.

2000 François Raveneau Chablis 1er Cru Montée de Tonnerre. Raveneau...I get it now. Crystalline mineral deliciousness, and with such great depth and focus. I want more, but these wines are over $100 a bottle now. M. Levenberg says that there is great Grand Cru Chablis for under $40, so I might stick with whatever that is instead.

2004 Produttori del Barbaresco. Didn't realize that there are about 10 possible wines this could be - sorry, didn't get the specifics. Whatever it was, it was so juicy and delicious, with very nice acidity. And supposedly ages very well too.

2001 Baumard Savennières Clos de Papillon. This is excellent wine, very mineral, some tropical notes to the nose. Well balanced and just delicious. I wound up taking what was left of the bottle home, and it was even better the next day.

2002 Domaine du Closel Savennières Clos de Papillon. Delicious, especially after an hour open. But it clearly will not improve for the next 20 years, something that it is supposed to do. Several tastes commented on the change in style at Closel. Be that as it may, the wine is, utterly beautiful right now. Full of honeyed minerals, nice mellow acids, something herbal running underneath. I should pull the few bottles I have out of the cellar and drink them over the next year or two.

1992 Joh. Jos. Christoffel Erben Ürziger Würzgarten Riesling Auslese **. Pure and lovely with nice orchard fruit flavors, a clean finish that lingers with a bit of spice. I thought it was just great, but my favorite part was watching the experienced Riesling folk in the crowd drink it with this ho-hum reaction. "Good, not great" they said.

The Burgundies were not so impressive, on the whole. For example, there was a 1992 Roty Charmes-Chambertin Très Vielle Vignes, and it just didn't move me. A 1995 Blagny was fine but not distinctive. The only one that seemed promising to me was a 1999 Geantet-Pansiot Chambolle Musigny 1er Cru, but even that did not have the same captivating factor as some of the other reds. Maybe mature Burgundy doesn't show as well when surrounded by bigger, more obvious wines.

You might be wondering what I brought to this event. I waffled on this. Champagne was my immediate thought, but in the end I went with wine that I assumed would be unique at the tasting, and that might even be new to a few people. 2005 Puzelat Touraine La Tesnière, a lovely smoky and funky white made of Menu Pineau, and the 2004 Puzelat Touraine La Tesnière, a red made of Pineau D'Aunis. I love these wines, but let me tell you - they definitely got a mixed reception from this crowd. Some looked at the label, asked about the grape, talked about buying bottles. Others said "I hate Pineau D'Aunis. It leaves my mouth before it gets halfway down my throat." To each their own, right?

WBW #40 - Petite Sirah

Sonadora is our host this month at WannabeWino, and she has selected Petite Sirah as the theme. This is a grape that I know almost nothing about. I've had wines made from Petite Sirah about four or five times, all quite a few years ago, and in my mind I lump them in with Zinfandel. Big, dark and spicy, structured, high alcohol, intense wines that are more common out on the west coast.

This is what I like about participating in Wine Blogging Wednesday, the online community tasting that Lenn organized over three years ago now. I am compelled to venture outside of my comfort zone, to buy wine I would never otherwise buy, and to taste this wine. I won't lie to you, friends, without WBW #40 as the impetus, it's a pretty safe bet that no Petite Sirah was going to cross my threshold anytime soon. Not cause I have something against it - I do not. I just tend to drink a lighter style of red wine.

Anyway...so how does a guy find a good bottle of a wine that he knows nothing about? In this case I asked Amy, the reliable wine buyer and manager at Prospect Wine Shop to select something for me. We've tasted enough together and talked about wine enough so that she has a a good idea about what I like. I did not specify a price or any other constraint. "Can you hook me up with a good Petite Sirah?" I simply said.

Amy picked out the 2006 Fleur North Coast Petite Sirah for $15. Although it is less expensive that some others she carries, including wines by David Bruce, she explained that this one is less oaky and actually tastes more like Petite Sirah. And the label says the alocohol level is 13.8%. I was worried about 15% or higher. Nice!

The wine was deep and dark, alright, and it had simple and clear blackberry and pepper aromas. Very juicy on the palate with lots of dark fruit and a slightly grippy and astringent finish, especially on the tip of the tongue. Leaves a nice dark fruit, maybe slightly tobacco-y flavor in the mouth. Certainly quite pleasant, and it went pretty well with the green split pea soup with smoked ham that we made for dinner.

So would I buy this again? No. There are just too many ways for me to spend $15 and emerge with wine that is more exciting to me. But I recognize that this is good wine, and if I find myself at a restaurant that offers nothing better, I would enjoy a glass with hearty food and be none the worse off for it. Overall, I think Jancis Robinson's description of Petite Sirah in the Oxford Companion Third Edition applies perfectly to this particular wine: "...dark, well balanced, sturdily tannic red wine of agreeable if not highly distinctive flavour." Thanks for the description, and for the "u" Jancis.

So that's it - another edition of WBW come and gone. Thanks Sonadora for hosting, and for picking an interesting theme.