Tidbits

Been busy and not able to write as often, but please don't think that means I've been starving and not drinking anything interesting. Oh no, my friends, I've been a very lucky Brooklynguy lately, in large part due to the generosity of friends. Here are some tidbits, things from the past few weeks that are worth mentioning:

Slope Farms sells pork now. I cannot tell you how excited I am about this. Ken and Linda Jaffe (former Brooklynites who moved to the Catskills) are dedicated to farming healthy cows, and theirs is my absolute favorite beef. I'm not sure of the details on this new pork venture, but I hear they have an elder and respected neighbor who advised them as they set up their farm. This neighbor raises pigs. The Jaffes now sell their neighbor's pork. Look at the marbling on the meat, and the beautiful color. I've tried the chops and a rib roast so far, and WHOA, this is very very good pork.

And on the other end of the food spectrum, processed food, I've discovered what I now believe to be one of the finest canned food products - Heinz baked beans, the kind they sell in England. These are done in tomato sauce, not in that cloying brown sugary sauce that our baked beans swim in. If you see these, try them. Okay, they're canned, but they're actually not that bad for you. And they taste so very good.

Some wine too...

2001 was not a very good vintage in Champagne. Not many vintage wines from that year - it was rainy, especially in the weeks leading up to harvest, there was a lot of rot, and it was a challenge for the grapes to ripen. I know from reading ChampagneGuide.net that this is considered to be one of the most challenging vintages of the past 20 years. So it was fascinating to have the opportunity to try a vintage wine from 2001, Jean Vesselle's Brut Prestige. This wine is all Bouzy, a blend of 70% Pinot Noir and 30% Chardonnay, but it reminded me of a wine I tasted a few years ago by Moutard that is made with the obscure grapes of Champagne, things like Arbanne and Petit Meslier. The wine had overt notes of green herbs and leafy vegetables, and I think it would have benefited from a few grams more of dosage (it was dosed at 3 grams, I believe). But really, it was good wine, well balanced and particularly lovely on the nose. I cannot say that it is what I dream of when I want Champagne, but it was a very good wine, and a reminder that it is possible to enjoy well-made wine from bad vintages.

I had dinner with a few friends and we each brought wine to the restaurant. These were good wines, on paper anyway. We arrived at 7:00, opened everything, and it was clear that nothing was showing very well. After a little while, I don't know how long exactly, but probably an hour or so, all of the sudden everything was fantastic.

I'm talking about a bottle of 2000 Vincent Dauvissat Chablis Les Clos that was butterscotch pudding for a while, and then turned into this detailed and focused thing of beauty. Some caramel notes, but also a bunch of freshly picked white honeysuckle. Pungent, long, and intense with a saline edge to the finish, this was a beautiful wine, a very special treat.

And the 1990 Robert Ampeau Volnay Santenots, a wine that began better than the others, but still was a tangled mess. And an hour later it was gorgeous - a complex and beguiling nose that had that vibrant mature-wine-pungency thing. Flowers, musky and gamy, but in the end, very much about stone. And it is the texture that gets you - the wine couldn't be more silky, and this silk surrounds what essentially is a wine about rock. Textbook Volnay, and a truly compelling and lovely wine.

And the 2002 Paul Bara Bouzy Rouge Coteaux Champenois, a wine that was probably the messiest of all when we first opened it, all bramble and pitch black fruit and very disjointed. But later on, I swear this wine was the freshest and most detailed wet stone basket of ripe strawberries, so pure and elegant, light as a feather. And the 1999 Eric Texier Côte-Rôtie, a wine that fooled all of us. It was a red fruit mash at first - I would have guessed a Grenache heavy wine from further south had I tasted it blind. This one took the longest to come around, but when it did it was a classic old school bloody, meaty, black olivey, and very mineral northern Rhône Syrah.

Can I tell you that the next day I learned that our dinner occurred on a flower day...but only after 8:00 PM. Why do these annoying coincidences keep happening with the confounded biodynamic calendar and the way wines taste?

At a restaurant in Boston I drank a bottle of 2007 Didier Dagueneau Blanc Fumé de Pouilly. The wine was beautiful, a perfect mingling of freshness, tension, elegance, and quiet intensity. It was not in any way showy, and was amazing in its perfect harmony, not for any one particular characteristic of aroma or flavor. Wow, I wish I had more experience with Dagueneau's wines. They are awfully expensive now.

I recently drank an Emidio Pepe wine for the first time, the 2001 Montepulciano d'Abruzzo. It had been open for hours before we drank it with dinner. I loved it, really loved it. Such interesting and delicious wine. Jet black fruit, very brawny, but detailed and fresh, with cooling herbal aromas, and a streak of something like tar and leather. It was lovely with the aforementioned Slope Farms pork roast, and I must find a way to drink this iconic (and expensive, and apparently very variable) wine again.

Lastly, look at this nice list of white wines by the glass. This is at the restaurant Herbsainte in New Orleans. I was down there recently for work, and stopped in to have a cocktail before retiring to my hotel room. But before I could order, I overheard the bartender telling another man that there was a buttermilk fried Louisiana frog legs special that evening. Hmmm.

Forget the cocktail - I ordered a glass of El Maetsro Sierra Fino (!) and the frog legs. Well that whole situation was so delicious, that I decided to keep going, and drank a glass of the 2010 Domaine du Closel Savennières La Jalousie with a little plate of Gulf shrimp and grits with okra. Even more delicious! You know, I used to love Closel but I kind of gave up on the wines after not liking anything after 2002 (and after the last of my 2002's showed oxidized). I told friends that I was done with the wines. Well, I have no idea what's really going on with Closel, but honestly, this 2010 was just excellent - fresh, pure, balanced, showing typical wooly and waxy notes and lots of minerality. A reminder to me not to make pronouncements about wine. I just don't have the years of drinking experience to make pronouncements.

Mid-term Cellaring Results

Not too long ago I retrieved some wine from off-site storage, things that I meant to drink at about this point in their lives (and in mine), and also a few things to check in on. The results have not been terribly impressive so far. These are wines that I liked very much several years ago, enough to send several bottles to off-site storage. It's interesting to see the way your own tastes change, to put yourself back in the mindset of making these decisions. Kind of like reading an old journal entry.

Anyway, here are the wines, along with a few notes:

2006 Marcel Lapierre Morgon, $22, Imported by Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant. This is absolutely and utterly delicious, and I only wish I had socked more away. Now there is an earthy complexity to the nose, although there is still plenty of dark fruit. There is also a pungency to the palate that is truly compelling. Great balance, vibrant acidity, lovely finishing perfume, just great wine - a joy.

2004 Éric Texier Côtes du Rhône-Brézème Domaine de Pergault, $29, Louis/Dressner Selections. I'm glad I have another because I have mixed feelings about the bottle we drank, and I want to drink it again. The nose was lovely and detailed, with lots of black olives and some floral hints, but the wine felt rather dilute on the palate. It never really filled out, although after it had been open for almost 2 hours it did put on a bit of weight. Perhaps I opened this one too young, or maybe I should have drunk it several years ago when I loved it. I have one more and I'm thinking that I should put it away again for another 5 years.

2005 Paul Pernot Beaune Clos du Dessus des Marconnets, $23, Fruit of the Vines Imports. Boy, did I love this wine a few years ago. I still like it fine, but it has not developed any kind of complexity - it's a lovely, fruity wine. There is nothing whatsoever that is exciting about it, though. Live and learn...

2004 Domaine du Closel Savennières Clos du Papillon, $26, Louis/Dressner Selections. There was a time when I loved this wine, LOVED it. And I don't think I was wrong - when it was young, this was a delicious wine. Only a few years later, though, and something is dreadfully wrong. The nose is beeswax and lots of alcohol (14.5%), and that's it. Two hours later, that's it. The palate is a disaster - way too evolved, no definition, not flawed, but unpleasant. So much so that we decided not to drink it. I think that this was good once, and has not aged well. But I have a couple more, so hopefully I'm wrong.

Isn't it interesting how things turn out?

Osso Bucco

I've made Osso Bucco before, but with beef shanks, never with veal. The other day prowling the meat case at the coop, I saw three shiny and beautiful veal shanks sitting there, and so I pounced.

Osso Bucco is braised shanks, a humble cut of meat, and yet there is something celebratory about it. It's no more difficult than any other braise, and if you're having trouble thinking of something yummy to serve for the holidays (that might impress your guests), consider Osso Bucco. You can create your own recipe, in a way - you need to brown and then braise the meat, and you should probably add some vegetables. I braised mine in a mixture of chicken stock and fresh squeezed orange juice, and added sliced fennel and carrots. You can use tomato, wine, stock, any kinds of vegetables, whatever. The point is, brown the meat, cook it in the oven low and slow. Here's a bit more on how I did mine, which were pretty darn tasty, if I say so myself.

I usually season braising meats with salt and pepper at least 24 hours before I plan to cook them, but I didn't do that with this veal. I guess I figured that the meat would be rather delicate, and that I didn't want to over-season it. Veal and beef shanks have a white membrane on the outside that holds everything together. You should use kitchen shears to cut through it in a few places, and then some cooking twine to hold them together. I've skipped that step before, and for some reason the meat curls and twists while braising. It's worth using twine.

Dredge the shanks in flour seasoned with salt and pepper, and then brown them on all sides in a heavy bottomed braising pot. Remove the meat, pour out the fat from the pot, and pour in a bit of acidic liquid. I used some orange juice. You can use wine, vinegar, whatever. Scrape the browned bits off the bottom of the pot, and then add 2-3 cups of liquid - I used a mixture of chicken stock and orange juice. Probably it's best to use veal stock. Good for you if you find veal bones and make veal stock.

Bring the liquid to a boil, add the meat back to the pot, cover with a damp sheet of parchment paper and a tight lid, and into the oven at 300 degrees for an hour. If you want to eat the marrow, turn the meat so the wider end of the bone is facing up.

Then add your vegetables - I used a fennel bulb that I cut into half in slices, and two big carrots. I also added a bay leaf, a few black peppercorns, and a bit of salt. Cover again with damp parchment paper and a tight lid, another hour in the oven, and life should be good. If you're using beef shanks instead of veal, you might add 30 minutes to each cooking segment, by the way.

While the veal was braising with the vegetables, I made a gremolata, a mix of chopped citrus zest, herbs, and garlic. I used orange zest because I used a bunch of oranges for the braising liquid, and I used those wispy fennel tops that look like dill, because I used a fennel bulb in the braise. You could use parsley and lemon zest, whatever you like. I also used just a little bit of garlic, less than a teaspoon, and some salt.

When the veal is as tender as you want it to be, remove it and the vegetables from the pot. Now you decide what you want to do about sauce. I simply turned up the heat on the stove top and cooked down my braising liquid until it was reduced by a bit more than half.

On a bed of rice, with some of the vegetables, the sauce, and topped with gremolata...yum. We spread the marrow on toast too, just because we could. And by the way, although my kids didn't eat it in this form, I shredded some of the leftover meat for them, mixed it with the chopped vegetables and even some gremolata, and they both ate it all up.

What to drink with this dish? I used orange juice and stock, and after reducing like that, there was an unmistakable orange scent to the sauce. I wanted a full bodied white wine, something with plenty of acid to cut through the rich meat, but also something with herbal flavors, maybe, to play with the fennel? Since I have no Italian white wine in the house, I opened a 2005 Domaine du Closel Savennières Clos du Papillon, $33, Louis/Dressner Selections, which worried me with its alcohol and bulk two years ago, and has not improved, I'm sorry to say. If I could go back in time and prepare better, I'd open a Tocai from Friuli, perhaps by i Clivi.

Osso Bucco, baby! Don't even be a little bit scared, because you should definitely make this dish.

JD Headrick's Wines at Rouge Tomate

I was very fortunate to be invited to dinner by JD Headrick, the philosophical and articulate wine importer based in North Carolina. Headrick's portfolio is small, but well selected. But if you consider only his Loire producers, his portfolio is large - 20 producers. His wines are well distributed (it seems to me, anyway), and appear in many states, but they don't appear on retail shelves as often as you might think, based on the quality of the wines. Those who know Headrick's wines always seem to like them, and you'll see his bottles appearing on the lists at top restaurants on the east and west coasts.

Headrick has two producers in particular that are true favorites of mine, Damien Laureau in Savennières and Françoise Bedel in Champagne. He also has several excellent producers in wine geeky appellations in the Loire. This dinner was a great opportunity to taste new things by my favorite producers, and also to get acquainted with some of his producers who are new to me. Here are some notes on my favorites from that evening:

(2000) Françoise Bedel Champagne Dis, Vin Secret, about $60. Bedel is that excellent producer working in the far west of the Vallée de la Marne, closer to Paris than to Reims. The one who converted to biodynamic farming in 1982. Pinot Meunier does very well in this area and Bedel's wines are mostly Meunier. According to Peter Liem, this is one of two terroir-specific wines Bedel makes, both from limestone parcels. I love LOVE love the other wine, called Entre Ciel et Terre, and this was my first time drinking Dis, Vin Secret. It is 100% Meunier, mostly from the ripe and forward 2000 vintage, with about 10% reserve wines. It was a beautiful wine and a great value at the suggested price. Classy on the nose with the rich and slightly oxidative aromas that typify Bedel's wines, the wine hits that balance of lushness and focus on the palate, a combination that can be elusive with Meunier wines. The fruit is sweet and red, and underlined with a cooling stoniness. Very fragrant, it really lingers on the finish. Delicious in a visceral way, this wine also offers something to think about if you're one of those folks who looks down upon Meunier-based Champagnes. We drank this as an apertif, but I wish I had saved some for my excellent plate of scallop carpaccio with sturgeon caviar and butter-toasted poppy seeds.

By the way, Rouge Tomate is really good. I had previously dismissed it because the name reminded me of this rather dismal place in the Mitsuwa food court - Italian Tomato. Silly me.

2008 Michel Delhommeau Muscadet Sèvre et Maine Sur Lie Cuvée Harmonie, about $15. Delhommeau is a newer producer in Muscadet and his vines are on the black quartz called Gabbro, in the village of Monnière, right near Michel Brégeon's vineyards in Gorges. This wine was absolutely classic. Fragrant with lees-y citrus fruit and that anise seed hint that I also get in Brégeon's wines, well balanced and energetic, very mineral, and delicious with oysters. If this bottle is any indication, Delhommeau is a nice addition to the existing super-group of Muscadet producers, and if you're into Muscadet, you should find a bottle.

2008 Claude Riffault Sancerre Les Boucauds, about $28. This one took a little while to unfold and then was just lovely wine, and like the best wines from the area, much more about Sancerre than about Sauvignon Blanc. Very strong acidity and minerality anchors the fruit and the finish has a gentle creaminess to it. To me, this is not a wine for sipping before dinner. I drank it with the scallop dish and it was a very good match. It would probably be great with any kind of white fish in creamy sauce, or even lean pork dishes.

2007 Damien Laureau Savennières Les Genêts, about $28. What can I say, I love these wines. I have much more experience drinking the other cuvée, Bel Ouvrage, which is aged mostly in barrel. Les Genêts is aged mostly in tank, and the 2007 it is such a fine wine. Can I take a minute here and say that I LOVE 2007 in the Loire? This wine is floral and powdery on the nose, and continued to gain in complexity until we drank it all. Such vibrancy in the mouth, the wine really fills all cavities, and this is a lean wine we're talking about, it's not accomplishing this with excess, but rather with energy and grace. No question for me at this point, Laureau is my desert island Savennières.

There are other wines that I truly liked on that evening - two different Cour-Cheverny by Domaine des Huards, for example. The 2002 took a while to open up, very oxidative at first, but after about an hour it found a balanced and delicious place. The 2008 was all young craggly rocks, and you could drink it with oysters and then scrape the mud off a pig with whatever is left in the bottle. 2007 Claux Delorme Valençay, about $16, is a delicious blend of Malbec, Gamay, Cabernet Franc, and Pinot Noir. Lighter in body than the 2006, it continues to impress me as a full bodied wine that is fit for richer meaty dishes, and yet has a light enough mouth feel to be very good to drink on its own. If I owned a restaurant I would serve this by the glass so fast, your head would spin.

Every one of these are wines that I would eagerly buy for myself, or order off of a restaurant wine list. Okay, maybe not the Sancerre, but that's about me and my issues with pricing in Sancerre, not about this particular wine. I'm telling you, people - JD Headrick has good wines. If you like good wine, you should keep your eyes peeled.

Old Coulée de Serrant: Thoughts on a Friend's Birth Year Wine

To celebrate a good friend's birthday, the other night we shared a bottle of wine from his birth year, the 1973 Château de la Roche-aux-Moines Clos de la Coulée de Serrant. This wine was made by Nicolas Joly's mother Denise - for a succinct history of the vineyard take a look at the Wine Doctor's profile.

We decanted this wine and drank it slowly over the course of the evening. A wine like this provides pleasure on many levels. There are obviously the sensory pleasures of smelling and drinking the wine, but there is perhaps even greater pleasure in doing so in the company of another person, particularly one who knows and loves wine as much as Peter does.

The wines of Nicholas Joly are quite controversial and I have absolutely no desire to engage in that debate. I've had very good bottles, and not so good bottles, and I've not had enough examples of Coulée de Serrant to say anything. Drinking this particular wine provoked some interesting conversation (I was part of it, so grain of salt necessary) and I want to share some of the issues we discussed.

--This isn't a Nicolas Joly wine. It was not made using biodynamic farming principles, and I have no idea what Denise Joly did in her cellars. Peter suspects, actually, that this wine is was made under what were standard practices - pesticides galore in the vineyards, who knows what in the cellars.

--Coulée de Serrant is one of France's and the world's greatest terroirs. It is the apex of Savennières, and some would say, of the potential of the Chenin Blanc grape (although many Huet lovers would argue for Vouvray).

--The wines of Savennières and of Coulée de Serrant are made differently now. The wine we drank does not list the alcohol level on the label - that law wasn't yet in existence. But it felt to us that it was 12%, maybe 12.5%. Joly's wines from the same terroir are higher in alcohol now, and I do not know of a Savennières producer whose wines are routinely under 14% in alcohol.

--Is it a drive for phenological ripeness in Savennières that fueled this uptick in alcohol? Is it the changing climate? Even Damien Laureau, currently my favorite producer in Savennières, who in fact has a plot of vines that are adjacent to the Coulée de Serrant, his wines are 14%. Is this a stylistic preference or a climatic necessity?

--If it is stylistic, it would be a shame that everyone in Savennières bought into the notion that bigger and more powerful is better. And obviously I'm not limiting that to Savennières...

--What happened to quality in Savennières? That is a rhetorical question. As recently as 5 years ago I loved wines made by Closel and others. I've had nothing other than Laureau's wines in recent years that I like. And as good as Laureau's wines are, they require more thought than other wines regarding pairing with food. Why have the great wines of Savennières become not as great?

--Will these higher alcohol wines be as long lived as the leaner wines from the '70s and '80s?

--The wine we drank was amazing, one of the greatest white wines that I have ever had. It was a distilled rendition of the rocks and soil of Coulée de Serrant. It had nothing whatsoever to do with fruit - there could not have been any less fruit in this wine. 0% fruit. It was pure mineral with amazing intensity and focus, driving throughout and after the finish. And with nothing extraneous, only the vital components present - lean and muscular. Shocking to me too was the vibrancy - this wine is 37 years old and it had great energy and vitality.

--I wish I could have tasted it when it was young to understand its progression. Will any of the Savennières I have sleeping in my cellar become wine like this in 30 years? I don't know, obviously, but I would say that sadly, it is not likely.

Levi Dalton Roasts a Pig

Well, the chef at Alto did, anyway. Levi just organized the whole thing. And lucky for me, he invited me.

Levi, enjoying a thoughtful moment, or perhaps reaching down to tie his shoe.

Levi is a top shelf wine guy, truly Grand Cru. He is an extremely bright guy with a vast wealth of wine knowledge, and he's relaxed and easy going about it. Sharing a glass with him is a great way to learn about wine, as he is so good as describing in such an accessible manner what he likes and doesn't like about a wine. Plus, he has a razor sharp wit and is simply fun to be around. If this guy invited me to a three hour tasting of Boone's Farm wines, I would go.

Photo courtesy of Levi D.

So I was excited for Levi's pig roast the other night. The event was hosted by Alto restaurant and was in part a showcase for the Piedmontese wines of Silvia Altare. Many NYC sommeliers and other wine people showed up, some from as far away as Philly. Many wines were shared. I was incredibly lucky to spot, and then basically attach myself to this guy:

SF Joe: the little white lights are the constant smart thoughts buzzing out of his head.

SF Joe, as he's known on the wine bulletin boards, is a brilliant and dedicated aficionado of the Loire Valley wines (among others). He was hanging out with a guy named Kirk, another NYC wine guy with a legendary cellar and a generous soul. So my night began with a glass of Kirk's 2002 Nicolas Joly Savennières Clos de la Coulée de Serrant. Nicolas Joly is a controversial figure, as probably the greatest living champion of the biodynamic movement in wine grape farming. And this is a controversial wine. Very expensive, and yet subject to what is apparently is a particularly high degree of bottle variation. Also, there are many who feel that this wine is plagued by problems with oxidation. I have no opinions on these matters, as I've had the wine too few times to understand it. But I will say that this bottle we had was very, very good. Attractive, balanced, absolutely pure, just lovely wine. Made me want to drink it again, although I don't know if I'm ready to plunk down my own $85 yet. I have enough problems with bottle variation already.

Then SF Joe broke out two absolute gems from the fantastic 1989 vintage in the Loire, wines that are pretty rare to come across today. First it was the 1989 Domaine de la Pépière Muscadet Clos des Briords, a direct refutation of the crazy talk coming from some guy on the left coast about how there's no reason to age Muscadet. This wine was a beautiful thing. No fireworks, nothing fancy, just pure, mellow, perfectly poised, deeply aromatic, and utterly delicious. If it were a house, it would be one of those weathered red-cedar shingle houses on the New England coast.

Then it was the 1989 François Cotat Sancerre Les Monts Damnés. This wine always has a certain richness to it, but at over 20 years old and from a ripe year like '89, this one was infused with honey. It was full and lush but very nicely structured, and like the Muscadet, strikingly pure. I enjoyed how the wine changed from front to back, how the initial taste was so honeyed and floral, and then the finish was more delicate and stony. I decided that it would be with this wine that I needed to indulge in the roast pig.

This photo is terrible, not enough light, but it gives a sense of what was going on with the pig. The chef completely de-boned it and then stuffed it with itself - loin, leg, sausage, and so on. Which by the way, is exactly how I would like to die. Seasoned with rosemary, sea salt, and who knows what else, the pig was ridiculously good. Large portions were served and everyone would say things like "my goodness, there's no way I'm going to be able to eat all that," before slipping into a pig-devouring silence that lingered a little while after the plate was clean.

I loved the way the old Sancerre worked with the pig. I know, it was supposed to be about Silvia Altare's wines, and those were very good too (my favorite was a delicious white Langhe wine made from Pinot Noir). But there was something about the way the floral honey and the rosemary in the Sancerre mingled with the piggy-ness of the pig...

And then, just when I thought it was safe to hang up my glass and head home, Kirk rooted around underneath one of the tables and emerged with a bottle of 1998 Giacomo Conterno Barolo Cascina Francia. This is one of those iconic wines that I have very few chances to drink, and it's not easy for me to describe how good it is because I have little context for the wine. But it is one of those wines that just knocks you out immediately, the nose is so gorgeously deep with roses and herbs and tar, impossibly detailed, delicate, and energetic.

What an evening - thanks again for your generosity Levi, Kirk, and SF Joe.

Lunar Cycles and Wine Showings

I'm starting to believe in the influence of lunar cycles on wine. I'm not saying that wine is better if it's made biodynamically, I'm not trying to tell you what you should do, there is no dogma here. I'm talking about what I'm finding regarding the days when wine shows well and when it doesn't. I haven't done any kind of study, although I might soon try to do just that. But through casual conversations with people who know and love wine, I'm finding that when a wine doesn't show well it turns out to have been a root day or a leaf day. And when a wine shows great, it turns out to have been a fruit day or a flower day.

Disclaimer: I've only been paying attention to this for a few months and following along myself for a few weeks since reader TWG kindly emailed me a copy of the 2010 calendar. And there have been exceptions.

But I kid you not, the calendar has been so reliable that I'm starting to plan dinners and tastings around it. And I'm already at the point where I cannot imagine opening a special bottle unless it's a fruit day.

Listen to this: on Saturday we had our friends Clarke and Sophie over for dinner and we opened 7 bottles of wine. Lest you think that we are lushes, we didn't drink all of the wine, only most of it. Every single wine showed spectacularly well. And yes, it was a fruit day. On its own this means absolutely nothing, of course. But when was the last time you drank (not tasted) 7 bottles of wine in an evening and every one of them showed beautifully? The last time I drank this many wines in an evening was the Savigny-lès-Beaune night I hosted and nothing showed very well. It was a root day, as it turns out. Check that, I drank loads of wine the other day at Levi's luncheon, and they showed very well, for the most part. It was a flower day, and it was the only favorable day for drinking that week until Friday. I wonder, did Levi check the calendar before choosing the date of the lunch?

Who really knows what's going on with these things. I put a period at the end of that sentence because it is a rhetorical question. So please don't get riled up in the comments - I'm not trying to convert anyone, I'm not making any kind of argument, and I haven't done enough to know how I feel about this yet. But as you have surmised, I am greatly intrigued.

And by the way, the wines from Saturday night really were superb. Here is what we drank and ate:

NV Equipo Navazos La Bota de Manzanilla Nº 16, $39, Eric Solomon Selections. Imported by European Cellars. We drank this with my first ever attempt at scallop ceviche. The wine was the essence of Manzanilla, although in drinking the leftovers two days later (on a root day) I can say that it would benefit from a few years of bottle age. It was delicious, but burly and assertive when we drank it, and now it is completely harmonious and gorgeous.

2005 Damien Laureau Savennières Le Bel Ouvrage, $32, Jon-David Headrick Selections, Imported by European Cellars. My favorite Savennières producer right now, Laureau's wines are consistently delicious and very expressive. Bel Ouvrage, anyway, as I've never had his other cuvée called Les Genêts. my first time with the '05, this wine showed more overtly fruity than any other Laureau wine I've had. That's to be expected from 2005, but it was also very floral and mineral with an almost powdery sense to it, and with great poise and balance. I loved this wine and imagine that it will age very well.

2006 Paolo Bea Arboreus Umbri Bianco, $66, Neal Rosenthal Imports. My first time with Arboreus, or any of Bea's white (orange) wines for that matter. This is a local strain of Trebbiano that spends lots of time in contact with the skins and then lots of time on the lees. It was incredible in that the aromas were absolutely the purest of orange fruit, fresh juicy and vivid orange and tangerine. Some rocks too, but I was wowed by the fruit. We drank this and the Savennières with flounder baked in parchment paper (look out, my fish monger is back at the market).

2001 Azienda Agricola La Torre Brunello di Montalcino, $69, Neal Rosenthal Imports. Beautifully rich and dark cherry fruit and a bit of soil. Delicious, but came across as a bit one dimensional on night one. One dimensional in a hedonistic and delicious way. This is probably because the wine simply needs time. I drank the remnants the following evening (still a fruit day) and the wine was utterly superb, showing everything I would hope for from a Brunello. A beautiful interplay of pungent leathery earth and vivid dark cherry fruit, an herbal finish that really resonates, clarity and purity - this wine was a bit of a revelation for me.

1986 Château Simone Palette Rouge, $50, Robert Chadderdon Imports. What can I say here? As Clarke put it, this was a great example of a noble old wine. The nose was of the forest, and very mellow, while the palate was fresh and vibrant, still showing good acidity, and showed that seamlessness that makes it silly to try to describe the flavors. The whole package was really quite beautiful. We drank this and the Brunello with braised pork ribs, creamy polenta, and kale.

2001 Domaine de Montbourgeau L'Etoile Cuvée Spéciale, $26, Neal Rosenthal Imports. What a bounty of ripe fruit! Yes, this is made in the under-the-veil style and is gloriously oxidized, but the brightness and clarity of the fruit was amazing. I assumed it was Savagin, but Sophie told us that it is Chardonnay in 2001. This was great with a Vacherin du Jura, the creamy cow's milk cheese that is wrapped in a band of spruce bark.

And then after BrooklynLady's delicious home made chocolate pudding we drank a bottle of 2002 Huet Vouvray Pétillant, $33, Robert Chadderdon Imports, because we were a bit drunk and it just seemed like the right thing to do. A great showing there, as well. I loved how completely woolly the wine was, compared with the flowery fruit and crystalline shimmer of the Savennières - such wonderfully different expressions of Chenin Blanc.

By the Glass - Domestic Cheese Edition

We've been delving further into domestic cheeses lately with some very good results, mostly. It continues to fascinate me, the challenge of pairing wine with cheese. In my opinion, which in this case is even less well informed than most of my other opinions, red wine is just too difficult to pair with cheese. They both tend to have such powerful aspirations, how can they avoid doing battle with one another? I find myself wanting to drink whites with cheese, the only question being whether or not the wine should have residual sugar. We've tried the cheeses I mention below several times, with various wines. Here are a few recent pairings that worked. Please feel free to chime in with any suggestions of your own.

Jasper Hill Farm Bayley Hazen Blue Cheese, paired with 2002 Domaine du Closel Savennières Moëlleux Les Coteaux, $28, Louis/Dressner Selections. Jasper Hill Farm might be the last great hope for artisanal cheese in Vermont. Mateo and Andy Kehler raise their own cows and make their own cheeses, but they also cellar small-batch cheeses made by other dairy farmers, including the famous Cabot's Cloth Bound Cheddar. Their Bayley Hazen Blue is a raw milk cheese that's aged for at least four months, and it is distinguished by its great balance. Not too salty, not too sweet, this cheese tastes of fresh butter, with herbs and roast nuts. It is crumbly and dense, not creamy like St. Agur. There are many wines that would be great with this cheese, but after one nibble, I knew that I wanted something sweet. The wines of the Savennières appellation are typically dry, but in 2002 the Domaine du Closel made a sweet wine. It was a great match, the herbal flavors of the wine enhancing the same flavors in the cheese. The rich, somewhat viscous texture of the wine enhancing the cheese's lean and sprightly characteristics. I've had this wine as an apértif in the past year, and it was far better with cheese than it was on its own.

Jasper Hill Constant Bliss, paired with 2007 Paul Pernot Bourgogne Blanc, $18, Jean-Marie de Champs Selections. This is a Chaource-style (in the Champagne region) cow's milk cheese. It is aged longer than Chaource cheeses (thank you, flavorful bacteria-averse FDA regulations), and the Jasper Hills folks say that it doesn't really resemble the cheeses of Chaource. This is delicious cheese, plain and simple. The best wine pairing I've found so far is the fabulously over-achieving everyday Bourgogne by Paul Pernot, which in the classic vintage of 2007 manages to be both lighthearted and serious. It shows hints of everything that makes white Burgundy wine so great - ripe fruit, delicate floral and stony aromas, and inner layers of texture that fade in and out.

Scholten Family Farms Weybridge, paired with 2007 Agnès et René Mosse Anjou Blanc, $18, Louis/Dressner Selections. This cheese is aged at the Cellars at Jasper Hill. It is a pasteurized cow's milk cheese with a bloomy rind, aged for 20-30 days. It quite sensibly ripens from the outside in, offering a lovely contrast between the creamy outer layer and the more chalky inner paste. I found the texture to be the most interesting thing about this cheese. The flavors are nice too, but more simple. The Mosse Anjou Blanc was nice here, its earthy and woolly notes adding complexity that I found the cheese to lack. Somehow, though, the wine showed almost no acidity when paired with the cheese. Strange...

Meadow Creek Dairy Grayson, paried with 2006 Pierre Frick Sylvaner Cuvée Classique, $13, Fruit of the Vines Imports. This is a raw milk washed rind cheese from the mountains of south-western Virginia, made somewhat in the style of the classic Italian Taleggio. Meadow Creek Dairy practices an earth-friendly form of cattle farming and cheese making. I have no data to back this up, but I hereby assert that Meadow Creek dairy is partially responsible for the fact that in the recent Presidential election, the great state of Virginia voted Democratic for the first time since 1964. In any case, this is delicious cheese. It is not a runny washed rind cheese, it retains its bouncy form even after several hours at room temperature. It is pungent, but not at all overpowering, with grassy and fruity flavors. Better to cut around the rind though, in my opinion, as it offers little to no flavor, and it adds an unpleasant brittle, waxy texture. Frick's bone-dry Sylvaner is great with this cheese. The floral aromas bookend the pungent, buttery cheese perfectly, and the almost startlingly dry wine accentuates the cheese's clean grassy flavors.

Wine of the Week - Damien Laureau Savennières

The Savennières AOC is a small appellation, and a small group of producers makes most of the wine that hits US retail shelves. That list includes Château d'Epiré, Domaine du Closel, Domaine des Baumard, Roche aux Moines, and the famous and controversial Nicholas Joly. Damien Laureau is not one of these well known and often seen producers, although he should be, and I think inevitably will be.

The village of Savennières is a very small place. BrooklynLady and I traveled there in 2006 to visit Domaine du Closel. We had no appointment and no idea where we were going, really. We got lost, went into a tabac (kind of like an Optimo meets a café, but with a liquor license) and in my broken French I asked if he knew the way to Domaine du Closel. A voice from near the magazine racks called out "I am Madame de Jessey of Domaine du Closel." This is a village with one tabac, a church, a bakery, a café, and a butcher/meat shop - the bare essentials for a French village, from what I can tell.

Laureau is somewhat of a black sheep in Savennières, not entirely accepted by the old guard of growers. Why the outsider status? Damien Laureau is trying new things in Savennières, making wines that are fundamentally different. Savennières wines are world-class whites from Chenin Blanc, wines with enormous cellaring potential, but they are wines that can be austere in their youth, like a barren moonscape - nothing but rocks and sand. Most producers make several cuvées, and usually at least one of them is more approachable in its youth. But the producers who work with what are thought to be the best vineyards in Savennières - Clos du Papillon, Roche aux Moines, or Coulée de Serrant, for example, are making wines that are not very rewarding when young.

Damien Laureau's wines are approachable when young. They are intensely mineral wines, but the fruit is beautiful from the beginning. He harvests a bit later than most people, allowing the grapes to turn yellow. But Laureau's wines are not sweet - they are bone dry, and at the alcohol level that is typical of the appellation, about 14%. Laureau experiments with a witches brew of plant-based sprays to ward off molds and rot. He keeps yields low, at 35 hl/ha whereas 50 hl/ha is common. Fermentation occurs with indigenous yeasts, and the wines spend over a year maturing on their lees.

There are two cuvées. Les Genêts comes from a plot on top of a hill - you can see the vineyard in Bert's photos at Wine Terroirs. Le Bel Ouvrage is the top cuvée, the grapes grown on soils of sand and clay over schiste, and typically spends at least a year in barrel. I've had these wines a couple of times now, beginning with the 2002 vintage, and I think they're great, as good as anything I've had from Savennières. The one we drank this week was the finest yet, with a simple meal of pan-fried pork chops and bitter escarole. I have never had an aged example, and I look forward to it. Both the 2002 and the 2004 Bel Ouvrage seem like they will develop beautifully with cellar time.

2004 Damien Laureau Savennières Le Bel Ouvrage, $27, Jon David Headrick Selections. Definitely wound up, not revealing all of itself, and not at all settled, but gorgeous. The nose is a wall of wet rock, but with a little airtime shows classic beeswax and orchard fruit, fruit that leans towards pear and apple, very rich and subtly infused with spices. The palate is far more graceful than the nose at this point, although also less revealing. The fruit is ripe and mostly pear and apple, but there is an exotic pineapple note also. The acidity is vibrant and carries through to the finish, which really lingers with mineral and spice tones. This is a full bodied, rich, and concentrated wine, but also a graceful wine, one whose pieces are individually beautiful. With time in the cellar, when they harmonize better, this will be a majestic wine. If you are lucky enough to see this or any other Damien Laureau Savennières, you should just buy it. If you don't like it, you can put it on my tab.

Loire Chenin Blanc Wine Dinner

I'm in a really great wine group now, and great ones are hard to find, trust me. This is a great one because the people are intelligent, easy going, and excellent company. And because our wine tastes are quite diverse. And also because we came up with a nice system for running the group. We rotate as hosts and the host provides everything. All the wine, all of the food, everything. The host picks a theme and decides how to explore that theme.

I like this system because it allows the host lots of freedom but also gives them lots of responsibility when it's their turn. It's also an egalitarian system - the host who feels flush can select 2002 Vosne-Romanée 1er Cru wines as the theme. The host whose employer is requesting a 20 Billion dollar bailout from the Feds, and who is not feeling flush, can select Muscadets young and old as the theme. Although vastly different in necessary expenses, both themes are fantastic in the hands of our capable hosts.

We've had a great time so far but I haven't been writing about it because, frankly, who wants to invite someone for dinner knowing that the dinner and wine will be dissected in a forthcoming blog post? When I host, I'm allowed to write about it. Recently it was our turn to host wine group and I chose Loire Chenin Blancs as the theme. I looked through my "cellar" and decided to go with the following wines:

Sparkling
2004 François Pinon Vouvray Brut (Magnum)

Dry
2005 Huët Vouvray Sec Le Mont
2002 Domaine du Closel Savennières Clos du Papillon
2000 Clos Rougeard Saumur Brézé (by generous gift of Joe Dressner, just for this dinner)

Off-Dry
2005 François Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Clos Habert
2002 François Pinon Vouvray Cuvée Tradition
1996 François Cazin Cour-Cheverny Cuvée Renaissance

Sweet
1998 Domaine des Baumard Quarts de Chaume

I went with roast striped bass with oyster mushrooms for the dry wines and a pheasant pâté plate of sorts, including a dollop of home made quince paste, for the off-dry wines. Pear and honey cake for dessert. It pretty much turned out okay.
This night for me was further proof for me that the Loire Valley offers truly profound white wines at reasonable prices. Overall, the wines showed fantastically well. The exceptions for me were the Pinon wines - the Brut was fine but the 2002 Vouvray Tradition was just no good. Other people liked it, so it's just my opinion, but I found the seaweed/dried mushroom umami aromas to be extremely off-putting. And the 2005 Chidaine Montlouis-sur-Loire Clos Habert, one of my favorite demi-secs of the vintage, was in an awkward and closed phase on this night.

Here are some quick notes on the wines:

The Pinon Vouvray Brut was fine and lots of fun out of magnum, but objectively it just wasn't special wine. Other than Huët's, I have yet to be truly wowed by any Loire sparkling wine, I must say.

The dry wines were fantastic, each with its own distinct personality. The Huët ($26 in early 2007, decanted 3 hours ahead) was the most delicate of the three, and although it was lovely during the dinner, it was utterly gorgeous the next day. Makes sense - the dry wines need time to develop. The Closel wine ($24 a few years ago) was in my opinion at the peak of drinking. Perfectly mature at only 6 years old (odd for a Savennières, but whatever), it was full of waxy ripe fruit, herbal, honey, and mineral flavors. Beautiful stuff. And the Clos Rougeard (over $60), which I decanted almost 6 hours ahead of time, was incredibly deep, although even with the decant, painfully young and during the actual dinner, not all that approachable. It's funny because about a half hour after decanting it was pretty fantastic. It goes through phases I guess. I wish I had saved some for the next day.

The weakest flight was the off-dry wines, although the 1996 Cazin ($26) was, for me, the wine of the night. And this is an interloper, a wine made from the Romorantin grape, not a Chenin Blanc. So sue me. It was gorgeous and completely harmonious, really in a great place. Mature and regal nose of ripe fruit with some interesting petrol and earthy notes. The palate was perfectly balanced with great depth of fruit and a great vein of acidity, and there was real viscosity here - this is dense without being heavy, long without being ponderous, just elegant and deep wine. Although I am not a fan of the 2005, my commitment to cellaring my '02s and '04s is renewed.

The 1998 Baumard Quarts de Chaume ($39) showed very well too. Incredibly beautiful nose of ripe orchard fruit, dripping with mineral intensity, and so fresh and youthful. This wine has a long life ahead of it. On the palate it's a wash of apricot and herbal honey supported by crackling acidity, loads of minerals, and a finish that lingers and changes, becomes pleasingly bitter. This wine had a cleansing effect on the palate, so different from most of the dessert wines I come across.

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?

Summer Pasta with Nicolas Joly

I know - I just wrote that I might have to change direction, think about wrapping it up here at Brooklynguy, and now only a few days later I write the longest post in the history of blogging. Whaddayagonnado?

I've been working on a pasta dish that's perfect for summer. When I do it well it marries savory and herbal flavors. It's light but it's also completely satisfying. A plate of this along with a green salad - a lovely summer dinner. There are only 6 ingredients and it's pretty easy to make. That said, it's taken me a few tries to get it really right - balanced with savory ricotta and garlic, aromatic herbs, and summer squash. I've tried mint, marjoram, and chervil for this dish. Any aromatic herb will be interesting. It's best warm, although I find that the flavors mingle and are quite good on days two and three, right out of the fridge. Here's the recipe:

4 small - medium yellow or zucchini squash.
Coarse kosher salt.
1 large green garlic clove. Use any garlic if you can't find green garlic, but any farmer's market has it right now.
4 oz good ricotta cheese.
10 oz spaghetti.
A handful of washed fresh mint leaves.

In summary, all you're doing is salting and then frying grated squash. You're tossing that with ricotta cheese, garlic, and herbs in pasta. More details:

Wash the squash. That rhymes. Dry it, and grate it into a large non-reactive bowl. Grate a layer of squash into the bowl and liberally add salt. Then grate another layer of squash, add more salt, and repeat until you're out of squash. I find that each squash is about a layer. Allow the salted squash to sit for about a half hour. You're salting both to season the dish but also to draw some of the water out of the squash. Meanwhile, bring a large pot of salted water to boil for the pasta. Wash and dry the mint.

When a half hour is up, heat some olive oil or butter in a cast iron skillet. Put the spaghetti in the boiling water to cook, al denté is best. Take a handful of the squash and squeeze as much of the water out as you can. Do not wash the salt off the squash. Place it into the skillet and flatten it a bit. Repeat until you've used all the squash. Cook, stirring every now and then, until some parts are browned and the squash is soft and cooked through. Peel the outer layer off the garlic and pound it in the mortar and pestle with a bit of salt. Pound it into a fine paste. Take two ladles of pasta cooking water and put aside in a bowl before you drain the pasta.

Drain the pasta, add the cooked squash, the garlic, the ricotta. Finely chop the mint and add it too. Mix this all together, adding pasta cooking water little by little to help blend the ingredients. Taste as you go, stop when you like the texture.

So that's the dish. What wine for this dish? I've tried Beaujolais, and it works. But I prefer a white with this. Most recently, a sec-tendre Chenin Blanc with the McDuff - yes, this is that dish, that time prepared with zucchini and marjoram. Then I remembered a comment that Peter of the tasty Cookblog left when I asked how to pair a complex Savennières. He suggested pasta with caramelized onions, walnuts, and orange zest. This is clearly a different dish, but somehow it still seems right. So this time I went with a Savennières, a beautiful dry Chenin Blanc from the master of biodynamics, Nicolas Joly.

Joly makes controversial wine. Wines from older vintages get raves, before he went down the biodynamic farming natural wine making road. For more on this, see Peter Liem's discussion of his vertical tasting during a binge weekend in Oregon. Don't miss the comments, by the way. The modern wines, though, seem to divide people, even groups of Loire lovers. This has a lot to do with the incredible bottle variation that plagues Joly, and many other natural wine makers. Joly adds no sulfur at all, so the wines are unstable, and that's it. When you buy them you know you might get a bad bottle.

There is another thing about Joly's wines that might annoy people. They supposedly require many days open in a decanter before showing well. I'm going to be honest - that put me off. I'm not sure I can be that accurate about what I will be doing and drinking that far ahead. I read this interesting and amusing set of posts by JD Harden of the new and highly readable blog Rational Denial. He vigorously decanted and tasted over five days. He found that the wine improved over five days, but he never really loved it to begin with. I decided to give Joly another try, and to essentially ignore the five day wait.

2005 Nicolas Joly Savennières Les Clos Sacrés, $27. Mine is not flawed, and it's from the 05 vintage, so it is probably more fruit forward than the 2004 JD discussed on Rational Denial. In fact, I loved this from the moment I opened it, although there was a distinct cheesy phase, kind of unpleasant. Gorgeous and complex nose of minerals, wax, faint baking spice, and an undercurrent of roast nuts. This actually reminds me of good Champagne. Not a fruit-driven nose, more mineral and wax, but absolutely regal and lovely. The fruit comes out on the palate, with pears and other orchard fruit supported by good acidity and more minerals. It's still young and there is plenty of room for relaxation and balance. But you know what - I'm not sure that I would stash this wine away for 20 years, as you might with many Savennières. It's delicious right now and it's already complex, it's not only about fruit. Let's see what happens over the next day or so. Oh - it works perfectly with this pasta dish. Very intense wine, but it supports the flavors of the dish and together they bring out the best in each other.

Day 2 - this wine is not showing as well! There are nice aromas of lemon chiffon and orchard fruit, and still amazingly intense minerality, but there is also a lot of alcohol heat on the nose and palate - 14.5% is pretty high I guess. But in this ripe vintage, it'll get there if you vinify the wines all the way dry. It would have been interesting to check in for the next few days, but I just didn't have that kind of patience.

Familiar Places, New Friends

Sometimes I can hang out in a familiar place and never look in a certain corner of the room. And then it becomes a habit not to look in that direction. Even if there were a chest full of gold coins in the corner, I'd miss it. Maybe it's just me. Probably is. But anyway, recently while in two of my favorite hangouts, Savennières and Champagne, I finally glanced over in that corner of the room and made some new friends.

The first is from a producer that I've heard about for a while now, a young guy who apparently was not welcomed into the fold in the small community that is Savennières. He ended up throwing caution to the wind, making wine his own way. I always meant to taste the wines, but never did. And then by habit, never did. But then Peter Liem in his truly excellent blog Besotted Ramblings and Other Drivel wrote about Damien Laureau's Savennières in his February 9, 2008 post (to which I cannot seem to create a link), calling it the finest example of Savennières from 2005. This is a serious thing to say. 2005 was a very good year in Savennières, as it was in most of France. So I scoured the NYC shops until I found one selling Laureau's wine - Vestry Wines in TriBeCa. The '05 is not around yet, but Vestry had the 2002, which was also a fine year in the Loire Valley.

2002 Damien Laureau Savennières Les Bel Ouvrage, $29.50, JD Headrick Imports. Here is the story behind the producer and some technical information on the wine. I'm not expert enough to be able to tell you how this wine is so different from the rest of Savennières. The contrast between the nose and the palate is striking. The nose is boisterous with orange fruit and flowers, clementines become clear with some aeration, and honeyed pure water. But the palate is all about the minerals, like clean water filtered through rock. Almost salty minerals, very intense, and the wine feels huge in the mouth, by the way. This is not some light minerally wine. This thing is a monster. Later on some fruit pokes its head out of the rock, some lime, hints of apricot, the finish lingers on with citrus and more minerals. Delicious wine, and fascinating too, I can see that there will be more Damien Laureau in my future. I must say, I feel confused about what food would pair well with this. Rabbit? Cheese? Somebody, help me.

I met my other new friend at a restaurant, of all places. Because of the high markups, I don't often try new wine at restaurants. If I'm paying top dollar I'd prefer to stick with whatever I know is good. But it was BrooklynLady's birthday weekend, we were out with the little daughter at one of our favorite neighborhood places, Al Di La Trattoria. We wanted a half bottle of bubbly to start and they had NV Guy Larmandier Brut Cramant Grand Cru. I'm such a sucker for ignoring this producer. I figured, 'I like Larmandier-Bernier, one Larmandier is enough.' Nope, not enough. And I should have known that a Rosenthal Champagne would be right up my alley. This Blanc de Blancs from the village of Cramant in the Côtes des Blancs was very elegant and delicate, and also very firm and powerful, very focused. Such a delicious and satisfying Champagne, its good genes so obvious in the overall harmony of the drink. We're going to have to invite our new friend over to our house for dinner one of these nights.

Two Great Values from the Loire Valley

Even though the Euro commands more than one and a half dollars, there are serious and beautiful wines to be had from the Loire Valley for under $20. Cellar-worthy wines too.

Here are two very fine examples :

2005 Château d'Epiré Savennières Cuvée Spéciale, $18. Sort of sad that as a lover of Savennières, I've never tried an Epiré wine until this one. This wine really blew me away. But not in a hedonistic this-is-so-delicious-right-now kind of way. Deeper than that. An amazingly focused nose of woolly minerals, like standing in a wet limestone cave, with hints of lime pith, and green apple. The structure and concentration are apparent even on the nose. Completely transparent palate with tight flavors of wet rocks, citrus oils, quinine. Incredibly persistent, the finish really lingers. This is a thinker of a wine, and I imagine that it has many years ahead of it. I'm putting a few bottles of this down to sleep. If you like Savennières you might consider giving this one a try. And I remind you, it's under $20.

2006 Puzelat Touraine PN, $18, Louis/Dressner Imports. That's right, this is Pinot Noir, and it's delicious, AND it's $18. No, I'm not trying to trick you, I am absolutely serious. The o6 vintage says "PN" on the label, not Pinot Noir, by the way. This has a slightly funky nose of mushrooms and dried leaves, but also of red fruits and violets. A lovely palate of ripe fruit and earth with a bit of rusticity. The tannins have not been polished out of this wine, they are right there and gently providing all the structure you could want. There is a buzz of energy to this wine that makes it great on its own, but even better with food. You could do roast duck, any kind of game, and mushroom soup or risotto would be great too. If you can find this just buy whatever they have, you will not be disappointed. I would enjoy drinking this one over the next year.

I Was Wrong About These Wines

You drink a wine with dinner and you form an opinion about it, and when the opinion is a negative one, it can be pretty hard to shake. But wine really does evolve. There is an aphorism about wine that I have previously placed too much stock in: "if you don't like a wine young, you won't like it with age." Maybe that refers only to the wines that are truly distasteful. In other words, if you hate it now, 8 years in a humid, cool, and dark cellar will not bring redemption.

But what if you were merely indifferent, or mildly disappointed at first taste? Well, even as little as a year of cellaring can bring about positive developments in a wine. It can recover from bottle shock, let's say, or from the vibrations of travel during shipping, or maybe the tannins can integrate just enough so that there is better balance and texture. Maybe the young fruit was shy at first. It's a complicated thing, this wine thing of ours, so doesn't it deserve a second chance?

The problem is that I don't have the space or the dollars to keep stock of every wine that I'm interested in, so those that don't show promise at first taste usually get left behind. This means that I will sometimes pass on the new vintage of a wine that I usually love, based on that one indifferent first experience. And unless I have the opportunity to re-taste this wine at a friend's house or at a restaurant, I don't even know what I'm missing! Ignorance can, in fact, be bliss.

Sometimes, though, I go deep-ish on a wine without even tasting, just based on past experiences with the producer and the quality of the vintage. So even if I don't like the first taste, I can be utterly wrong and live to tell the tale. Here are two lucky examples of this, both from the Loire Valley.

I bought six bottles of 2005 Domaine du Closel Savennieres Clos du Papillon without so much as a drop passing my lips. These babies were $33 apiece (a solid 15% price increase beginning with this vintage), why such confidence? Because I've tasted every vintage since 1999 and a few others before that, and found each of them to be fascinating and delicious. So when the perfect 2005 vintage hit the shelves, I didn't mess around. This should be one of those wines that brings tears of pleasure to your eyes in like, 15 years. Just buy the half case and move on to more pressing matters.

But the bottle I opened in July was just uninspiring. I found nothing of Papillon in there, or of Closel. It was full bodied and tightly knit wine, but nondescript, even after 3 days open And that really made me sad. So guess how happy I was the other night when the next bottle rang out with butterfly vineyard waxy mineral pure concentrated nutty honeyed structured goodness? Granted, it took 36 hours open to really show itself, but it's in there. I was dead wrong about this wine. Should have known better too, with all of the raw material provided in 2005, and I apologize to you Madame de Jessey for doubting your wine, even for a minute.

And what of the 2005 Bernard Baudry Chinon Cuvee Domaine? I gave this wine insufficient attention also, finding the first bottle to be rather dense and nondescript. So confident was I in my assessment that I held my remaining bottle for too long without another taste, and now I fear that I may be out of luck finding more. I cannot imagine a higher quality $17 red wine of this type. The bottle I opened last week was soooo good, and I only opened it because I wanted a glass of red, and I didn't want to open something pricier. There were clean aromas of dark flowers and tobacco on the nose, really mingling nicely and enjoying each other's company. Ripe fruit and some iron minerality to go with that on the palate. Very satisfying indeed, and very well defined flavors. It's true what Lyle at Rockss and Fruit said - this wine will not blow you away. But good luck finding a classier wine at this price.

So now I have to go write on the blackboard 100 times: "Trust the producers you love, and be more patient with their new releases."