Cafes & Wineries

How many times have I told myself not to meddle in the world of terroir? Having (or starting) discussions about the traditionally French notion of how wines possess unmistakable signatures of their place of origin is not unlike having discussions about religion and sexual orientation: you need to take care who you have them with.

But here I am again meddling in the “somewhereness” of wines, to borrow writer Matt Kramer’s favorite shorthand for terroir.

The question of the day is whether terroir includes the “bad” flavors as well as good — and if it does, whether such flavors should be eliminated, or not.

We’ve already had part of this discussion here on Vinography, in the context of a previous discussion about the role of yeasts in terroir. While not a part of the main post, the conversation in the comments quickly turned to the role of the Brettanomyces yeast and whether it is a fundamental flaw, or whether it might be considered part of the regional terroir of the southern Rhone. While some might object to the suggestion that Brett and its typical horsey, barnyard aromas are a part of terroir, the question of whether it represents (or represented at one time) a regional style.

A recent piece of news bears on such questions. Scientists in South Africa, in collaboration with regional winemakers, have undertaken a series of investigations to identify the source of a series of aromas found in South African red wines. These aromas, which range from green wood to burnt rubber, are considered objectionable by some (myself included) while others consider them to merely be one of the typical regional qualities of wine produced in the country, and therefore an important signature of terroir.

Let’s assume for a moment that such flavors are indeed endemic to, and produced by, the region’s particular combination of geology, climate, and (sound) winemaking practices. If this is the case, but still many consider such flavors so objectionable that they will not buy (or worse, won′t rate highly) the region’s wines, should those flavors be eliminated?

To wit: if the scientists in South Africa manage to figure out what causes these aromas and then what to change in winemaking or winegrowing to eliminate them, should winemakers go ahead and effectively erase what many have come to consider a fingerprint of the region in an effort to make their wines taste better?

There are those who will stridently declare that just like the Brett that characterized Rhone wines of a certain era (much less commonly now), these aromas are fundamental flaws and need to be stamped out like nesting cockroaches. And there are those who will just as violently argue that stripping such qualities out of South African red wine will rob it of its individuality.

My interest in all this has to do with the implied balance between typicity on the one hand (how much a wine represents a certain place or type) and pleasure on the other hand. If winemakers make wine that is indelibly true to a place, but if very few people like it, does it matter how well the wine represents the place?

There’s no easy way to answer such a question, though I find it perhaps easier than most to step back from the romanticism of terroir and ask the question: what do these winemakers want to do with their wine? If they only aspire to sell it to a local market of people who don’t think it’s red wine unless it tastes like peeled willow bark, then there’s no need for a change. If they want to sell their reds on the global market, however, and that market demands wine without burnt rubber, then perhaps the terroir, or at least the regional style, needs a bit of an overhaul.

What do you think?

Original post by Alfonso Cevola

From the 23rd Century, near a place in Tuscaremma, called Montalcinapaia.

Q. Montalcinapaia has changed, so it seems. What is the most important change, in your opinion, in wine in the last 200 years?
A. For one, we are a dry area, very arid now. Ever since the Wind War of 2059-69, this area has relied more on natural species for their survival skills than for their elegance. But we have found out that if we work in this minimal environment, we can coax a lot out of the soil.

Q. Tell us in the past a little about the wine you are making in your time?

A. Interesting that you would ask, because right now we are seeing an interest in bringing back Sangiovosso to the vineyards. After Castello Banfi was leveled by a tornado ( see picture) and the community decided to establish a wind farm on the property once owned by Banfi, Antinori and Argiano, the area had been left to go wild. The earthquake cycle of 2101-12 also contributed to re-arranging the area. The whole time we had stories of the robots who worked on the windmills telling us about a vine that would grow up on the posts of the giant rotors. But because the area is so hot we rarely send humans out to investigate in the spring and the summer.
Anyway, we have been making wine from Frappatocino and Nero D’Avellino, because they seemed more suitable for the region. But we are investigating these wild vines from around the ruins of Banfi’s property.

Q. Any other developments in the past 200 years or so?

A. This area now has been active in growing the blue Agave. We can concentrate the spirit and use it sparingly. Since we learned that drinking more than 2 glasses a day of red wine was harmful, in the 22nd century, we stepped back from overproducing wine and have sought to supplement our farming and our diet with more appropriate products.

Q. Agave, that was pretty drastic wasn’t it, getting a cactus from Central America to replace a large part of your wine production?
A. You mean like the tomato and the potato? We were searching for sustainable spirits and agave was best suited to our world. We were very fortunate that the Sicilian grapes did well in Tuscany and that we were able to save them before Southern Italy was forever altered.

Q. Back in 2000, there was a lot of talk about the so called International varieties, Cabernet, Merlot, Syrah, that kind of thing. What has happened to them in your world?

A. When the Chaîne des Puys came back to life and erupted in 2076 in France, that changed everything for Bordeaux and Burgundy. And then 10 years later when Duppacher Weiher spewed, that brought Germany to their knees. We have actually been very lucky in Central Italy. Southern Italy, that is another story. What happened though was that winemakers and farmers were looking for crops to grow that were self sustaining and didn’t need fertilizers and little water.

Q. And what role does science play in winemaking these days?

A. It’s very important. Now we need ways to help the plant work on their own and since enology met nanology it has been a great boost. Now we can develop the grapes, via nanology, to notify the winery when they are ready to be harvested. We harvest berry by berry and so our yields have not really suffered. But because we are now a world population of 63 billion, the demand is still great. Another development is the birth of new fruits that we can harvest in space, the extra-terroir-estrial varieties, like Vitus Veronellus and Vitus Iacuccius. These have been heaven sent. The best (and now, the only) Riesling comes from a space station that circles the moons of Venus, from a variety called Vitus Theisus-Shiroshekar.

Q.What about the idea of alcohol in culture and society?

A. What a strange question. I’m not sure I understand the context. With the world being almost 2/3 Hinduslam and meat eating and alcohol seen as part of a life style for the privileged, this has had some social repercussions. Getting around on the land hover vehicles now is seen as a quaint but particulare’ amusement for the Gigglionaires. But really now alcohol isn’t taboo with the eastern religions, it’s more a problem that the governments still try and tax and regulate it, to fund their space colonization programs.

Q. If I could have brought one thing from 2008 for you, what would you have wanted?

A. Water.

Q. If I could give you information from 2008, what would you want to know?

A. Nothing really. We have survived the Wind War, the Tornadic era and we have skirted the Volcanic era. We have been very fortunate. But there is one mystery you might be able to clear up for us. We have these ancient bottles of wine, from the 2003, that we found at the estates where the wind farms now are. One was called Brunello and the other was called Duemilatre. Could you please tell us what those wines were?

Original post by Alfonso Cevola

He’s already been gone half a year, this son of New Orleans, father and mentor to so many of us. Al was one of the forefathers of wine in America. He was there at the beginning, right after World War II, when the budding wine industry got its start. A great story teller, a proud grandfather, a lover of women, a classic New Orleans chef, and a slave to the wine god, in the very best sense.

This isn’t an easy post to write, because we are all still smarting from his absence. Two years ago, on Fathers Day, we slipped some Champagne and appetizers into his room at the home he was temporarily staying. He couldn’t live alone at the time and he bemoaned the dismal vittles. So we rustled in some tasty contraband.

He always had the New York Times Food section open somewhere near his reach, along with the op-ed section. Well read, an active mind, an engaged soul, who loved passionately and deeply. Sometimes too much.

I still remember his home phone number, but he’s not there. When I was in New Orleans last month, I had a dream about him. He’s dancing in Galatoire’s, making mischief in Commander’s Palace, lifting tablecloths in Brennan’s. He belongs to the Ancients now.

Al had an encyclopedic knowledge of classic food and wine, but he was always interested in what was coming around the corner. I met him when I was just starting out in the wine business; he was still on the streets. We both called on a wine store owned by a South African gent, and Al was in there pitching wine from Chile. This was in 1981!

He had a collection of menus from New Orleans and all over the country. He had stories about the wine business, some which were archetypal. They were, for me, instructional from the point of view that they indicated markers along the career track that would later come across my path. I learned survival skills from Al, who mentored me for a generation. Like other mentors who influenced my trail, they are life lessons that I use often. Those who knew Al, or who have had that kind of guidance, know how extraordinarily lucky one can be to have that exposure.

Al loved women; he had an invisible pheromone that attracted young and beautiful women to him all his life. Maybe it was his famous Café Brulot or his Coquilles St. Jacques. Anytime I walked into his home there would be something cooking. And there was often a beautiful lass by his side, learning his technique. He was a gentleman, and he loved the ladies.

Few people know that Al first brought American wines into the White House. It was his second tour of duty, the first being World War II. Al loved this country and being a true son of New Orleans, was a national treasure to me, much like the Crescent City is, to many of us in our country.

From French and Italian heritage he loved butter and olive with equality. And wine? We talked about wine all the time, his library of food and wine books was a research center for me. Whenever I had a question about something that I could not find, I’d call Al and he’d get back to me with the answer. Often he would have several versions.

Our conversations burned through cords and cords of wood, over the years. He was a happy man and a role model for me, not just about the successes, but also for the failures. When he was afflicted with a stroke, some years ago, he reinvented himself, embraced physical therapy and found a new interest in physical therapists, especially when they were young and pretty.

Later, when my wife was struck down by M.S., Al was there to listen to me, to share a glass of Chianti or Cognac, to be my friend and my wine dad.

Life for Al was never half empty. It was neither half full. For Al, pardon the cliché, but his cup always runneth over. And he was more than happy to invite friend and stranger alike to the party, to share his table, his love and his joy for life.

Happy Fathers Day Al, we’ll raise a flute in your honor today, though I know our Champagne will pale in comparison to the cuvee you will toasting with Tim Russert and all your gang.

Original post by Alfonso Cevola

Day two of Aspen’s Food and Wine Classic was blessed with the same weather as the first. Crystalline blue skies, 75 degrees and sunny. I gave my second Napa′s Next Superstars seminar to a nearly full auditorium at the Given Institute, and after hanging around to chat with some of the attendees about the wines, I was free.

With all my seminars behind me I had the opportunity to finally explore the Classic as a spectator instead of a speaker. The first thing I did was head down to the Grand Tasting tent to get a few bites of food — a lunch constructed out of small samples of grilled rib eye; rum cakes; brownies; grilled lamb and salad; crab cakes; roasted fingerling potatoes; fresh gazpacho; and bits of Spanish cheese. Plenty of other people had the same idea:

It’s a pretty astonishing sight this gathering of thousands of food and wine lovers under one huge canvas awning.

After this pastiche of a light lunch I headed over to one of the event venues to watch the second annual Sommelier Challenge — a panel session hosted by Lettie Teague, the Executive Wine Editor of Food &amp Wine magazine.

Not your usual panel session, this event pitted four of the country’s top sommeliers against each other in a sort of “sell-a-thon” where they are asked to speak to the audience about different wines, after which the audience votes on who they think did the best job.

This year’s lineup of sommeliers was a formidable cast of characters:

Each of the sommeliers, including the audience, had five glasses of wine in front of them:

2007 Santa Rita Floresta “Leyda″ Sauvignon Blanc, Chile
2006 Tablas Creek Esprit d’Beaucastel Blanc, Paso Robles, CA
2005 Vietti “Tre Vigne” Barbera d’Alba, Piemonte, Italy
2005 M. Chapoutier “Les Granits″ Rouge Saint-Joseph, Rhone, France
2005 Celler Can Blau “Mas de Can Blau,” Montsant, Spain

When I saw this session’s listing in the program, I assumed this would be a blind tasting, but instead of putting each of these guys palate’s to the test, they were instead being evaluated on their schpiels. Each would be required to speak about one of the first four wines as if they were providing a recommendation of the wine to a restaurant patron. Then each would get a shot at performing the same task for the fifth and final wine.

After Teague’s introductory remarks, the serious looking Bobby Stuckey (last year’s champion) introduced the audience to the Chilean Sauvignon Blanc. Stuckey took an enthusiastic, if traditional, approach to the task, pleased that he had been assigned the wine that, in his view was a perfect match to the Summer day we all walked out of into this session. He praised Sauvignon Blanc’s qualities, and offered his tasting note for the wine, noting its low alcohol level and food friendliness.

I thought this was an excellent wine — one of the better Sauvignon Blanc’s I’ve had from Chile. Here are my tasting notes:

2007 Santa Rita Floresta “Leyda″ Sauvignon Blanc, Chile
Pale green-gold in the glass, this wine has a vibrant nose of grassy, juicy gooseberry aromas. In the mouth it is crisp, lean, zingy with acidity, and explosive with lovely kiwifruit, lime, and starfruit flavors. Score: around 9. Cost: $23. Where to buy?

Next in line was Richard Betts who spent a few minutes good naturedly suggesting that Sauvignon Blanc was perhaps a bit too pedestrian and simple a wine for a day as lovely as the one we were having (which prompted protests from Teague who admitted that she bought that particular Sav Blanc by the case). Betts suggested that as a sommelier his job was to be “an enabler” — an advocate whose sole goal was to turn you on to something you’d really like. Instead of Sauvignon Blanc, he suggested, the audience might prefer something more truly Summery, like the complex peach and floral qualities of the Tablas Creek white. He spoke about the wine like it was an old friend, referencing the history of the Perrin family behind it, and shared his own rambling tasting note.

I′ve had this wine several times, and always enjoy it, but I have to say, at the time, I preferred the Sav Blanc.

2006 Tablas Creek “Esprit d’Beaucastel” Blanc, Paso Robles, CA
Pale gold in color, this wine truly does smell like a summer’s day — nectarines, white flowers, and other tropical fruits. In the mouth the wine is silky and weighty on the tongue with flavors of elderflowers, peaches, and orange blossoms that linger in a moderate finish. Score: between 8.5 and 9. Cost: $40. Where to buy?

Stuart Roy was up next, and began by suggesting that the lineup was truly unfair, but such was life, as he had clearly been given the best wine of the group. He went on to offer an explanation to the room of where the wine came from in Italy, and professed his love for the few Italian regions whose names included both the name of the grape as well as the place they came from, in this case, Barbera from the town of Alba. He waxed fanatical about the wine, making special note of its acidity and minute long finish, and suggested that it would be one of his favorite wines to recommend to any diner looking for a red wine with their food. Roy was articulate and knowledgeable, but came across as more formal than Stuckey and Betts. I certainly shared his appreciation for the wine however, which was excellent.

2005 Vietti “Tre Vigne″ Barbera d’Alba, Piemonte, Italy
Dark ruby in color this wine had a gorgeously floral nose that slipped sideways between violets and lavender with undercurrents of leather and red fruits. In the mouth it was smooth, even polished on the palate, with dusty tannins, beautiful acid balance, and flavors of dried cherries, leather, and sweet flowers that lingered in the truly memorable finish. Score: between 9 and 9.5. Cost: a steal at $24. Where to buy?

Finally, John Ragan got the chance to set the record straight about who really had the best wine on the table. He went on to speak about how Syrah was a trendy grape at the moment, but that its true home was in the Northern Rhone (he actually said that was the birthplace of Syrah, but I believe the Syrah grape’s origins have been traced back to the Middle East). He seemed quite familiar with the producer and this specific wine, describing the single vineyard it came from, and praising the degree to which, in his opinion, the wine personified the true essence of Syrah. Ragan was likeable and knowledgeable, but his pitch seemed to be missing the hook that might have won me over as a diner. The wine was, indeed, classic, however.

2005 M. Chapoutier “Les Granits” Rouge Saint-Joseph, Rhone, France
Dark garnet in the glass, this wine has the classic white pepper, black fruit, and wet earth aroma of Syrah. In the mouth it is frankly beautiful, perfectly balanced with great acidity and subtle dusty tannins. The flavors are deeply mineral in quality, encased in a blanket of dark blackberry and mulberry fruit, and dusted with white pepper. A long finish completes a picture perfect Rhone experience. Yum. Score: between 9 and 9.5. Cost: $60. Where to buy?

The most interesting part of the challenge involved the recommendation of the final wine, a brute of an old-vine Grenache from Spain that was heavily extracted, and heavily oaked. Stuckey and Roy both endorsed it as a big wine from a great region that would make folks looking for a major red very happy. Interestingly, and in my mind to their credit, both Betts and Ragan said that they couldn’t, in good faith, recommend the wine to us.

“Smell it,” said Betts.

“What do you smell? OAK!” He went on to suggest that the wine offered no real sense of the place it came from, and was more of a vanity piece than a wine of character.

Ragan agreed, saying “This wine has no fingerprint, no trace of its true identity. Wine has to take you someplace special, and this one doesn’t.”

The Montsant was indeed a heavily oaked concoction.

2005 Celler Can Blau “Mas de Can Blau,” Montsant, Spain
Dark purple in the glass, this wine smells of the sweet vanilla of French Oak wrapped around super-ripe cherries. In the mouth it is tight and angular, with flavors of sawdust, sweet oak, leather, and dried red fruit. The tannins are somewhat abrupt and chewy, and the finish not particularly striking. Score: around 8. Cost: $45. Where to buy?

After some closing remarks by Teague the audience was polled and the winner was…

Bobby Stuckey for a second year in a row, by a rather wide margin. Personally, after all was said and done, I was pulling for Betts, but the crowd clearly seemed to favor Stuckey. Stuckey and Betts are best friends, and after receiving his prize of the precious champions airbrushed t-shirt, Stuckey offered to let Betts wear it for the second half of their usual joint morning run tomorrow.

The session was a lot of fun, and a good reminder that some of the country’s best sommeliers are quite young, personable, and incredibly approachable. They inspire confidence and curiosity in wine drinkers, and that is a very good thing.

Original post by Arthur Krea

I just finished my first day at the Aspen Food and Wine Classic, and my second day back in my home town for the first time in 14 years. It’s been quite an honor to be asked to speak at this year’s classic, but so far it has been an incredible pleasure and a deeply nostalgic experience.

Returning to the little town where I grew up (most people don’t think of Aspen as so small, but in my day there were about 9,000 permanent residents — my high school class had 72 people in it) is a very surreal experience. The geography of the place is ingrained in me — I know the streets, the buildings, the location of the mountain peaks, but in a purely intuitive way I couldn’t tell you how to get most places, but I could walk there myself. A lot has changed, as Aspen continues to go through a development boom, but so much remains the same. This is still the place I remember and occasionally dream about.

Oddly, however, everything seems….smaller. The buildings are smaller than I remember them, the distance between landmarks much shorter, even the interior spaces of some favorite shops and restaurants have a diminutive quality that even as they provoke pleasures of memory also add a bit of unease.

As I walk around the town, I seem to think I recognize so many people. In some of the younger ones, I wonder if I’m seeing the grown-up versions of the elementary school kids I saw on the bus when I was in High School. Others, I’m sure are probably longtime locals that I’ve seen a million times before.

Aspen is in the full bloom of a gorgeously green spring, today there wasn’t a cloud in the sky and the temperature hung around 70 all day long — classic summer weather for Aspen — nothing unusual there. What was unusual, however, was the sight of people carrying their skis and boots towards the Gondola for a day of skiing. Yes, that’s right, skiing on June 13th. Call it lucky Friday the 13th.

Yesterday it snowed briefly in town, but more importantly a look at the socked-in tops of the mountains showed that it was blizzarding up there. And this on top of the still-heavy snowpack that remains at the highest elevations. No one can ever remember skiing this late into the season before.

Of course, most people in Aspen this weekend aren’t thinking about fresh tracks, they’re thinking about fresh chefs, new dishes, and fabulous wines. For those who aren’t familiar with the Food and Wine Classic, it is two and a half days of food and wine seminars, cooking demonstrations, parties, and a “grand tasting” tent where hundreds of wineries, food purveyors and other companies offer samples, tastes, and other informational tidbits to attendees. It is widely regarded as the premier wine and food event in the country.

This morning I gave three seminars, one entitled Napa’s Next Superstars, and one entitled Sake For Wine Lovers (which I gave twice) to festival attendees.

The first seminar, Napa’s Next Superstars was my attempt to introduce people to several wines from Napa that were either brand new to the market and destined to be great or were flying under the radar of most consumers. I distinguished superstars from “cult wines” by virtue of the fact that these were wines that the attendees could actually get a hold of with a little bit of effort on their part (provided their home states didn’t prevent them from doing so).

The wines I poured for the attendees were:

2005 Blackbird Vineyards “Proprietary Red Wine,” Napa Valley

2005 Meteor Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon, Napa Valley

and then I threw in a ringer wine, that I thought stylistically fit with the grouping above, but was made far from Napa:

2005 Star Lane Vineyard “Astral” Cabernet Sauvignon, Santa Ynez Valley

My review of this wine will be forthcoming shortly

I was particularly happy to be able to offer the very first tasting of any kind for members of the public for both the Meteor and the Star Lane, as both are just now being released. The seminar was attended by nearly 90 people and I was very happy with how it went. I′ll be giving the same seminar again tomorrow (Saturday) morning.

My second (and third) seminars of the day were my Sake For Wine Lovers seminars, which were designed to be introductions to sake, as well as an opportunity to taste some of what I (and some others) think are some of the best sakes in the world.

I poured the following sakes as part of the seminar:

Asahi Shuzo Dassai “Niwari Sanbu″ Junmai Daiginjo, Yamaguchi Prefecture

Ohyama Tokubetsu Junmai Nigori, Yamagata Prefecture

Reviews on the Ohyama and the Kamotsuru will be forthcoming shortly.

I also had a chance to wander through the main tent to check out what was on offer, and was surprised that it was heavily dominated by wineries, which the thousands of milling attendees and their glasses seemed thrilled about. I didn’t have much time to stop and taste, but I noted with pleasure the presence of some really top wineries, such as Massolino from Italy′s Piemonte Region, Movia from Slovenia, Hofstatter from Italy′s Alto Adige, and more. The Washington Wine commission also had a table there with some excellent Washington state wines, and the country of Spain had their own little private tent, which I put on my list for tomorrow’s exploration.

This evening American Express Publishing (the parent company of Food & Wine Magazine) threw a spectacular party at the top of Aspen Mountain (yes, the same mountain they were skiing on today). Invited attendees rode to the top of the mountain in the Silver Queen gondola as the sun was setting, and emerged at the top to be greeted by a fire juggler, a belly dancer, and a Moroccan style feast of epic proportions.

All in all, it was quite a day. I spent most of it working to prepare for, and then giving my seminars so I haven’t had much of a chance to taste any wine or really generate anything that you might enjoy reading, other than this recap. The evening before the event however I did have a chance to taste some extraordinary wines out of magnums at the much anticipated Magnum party. I’ll likely review some of those later, but one of the treats I’ll share with you now was an unusual California antiquity:

1973 Freemark Abbey “Cabernet Bosché” Cabernet Sauvignon, St. Helena, Napa
Light ruby in the glass and sprinkled with sediment, you’d never know this wine was 35 years old simply by looking at it as the color, while light, was pure and free from the brownish tinges that mark older wines. The nose offered gorgeous aromas of juniper, sawdust, and redcurrant that could only have come from slow, beautiful development over time. In the mouth the wine is delicate and dry on the tongue, with flavors of eucalyptus cedar, leather, and tart cherry fruit that remarkably still has some juice to it. The wines pretty aromas were only outdone by its long, languid finish. This was never, and will never be a world class wine, but I tell yaw, it emphasized my growing belief that some of the best undiscovered values of the wine world are the relatively ordinary Napa Cabernets from the Seventies and Early Eighties. Score: between 9 and 9.5. Cost: about $40 if you can find it.

More to come…

Original post by Arthur Krea

Excuse me, but I have just had one of the best food and wine combinations of the year. I was out with friends to an outdoor concert with picnic food. They brought fried chicken and I brought a bottle of Pio Cesare Arneis. Holy Mother of God, was that a match made in Heaven. Give it a try sometime, no kidding. OK, back to business.

This was the week I was quoted but this wasn’t the week my “deal” came through, whatever that is ‘sposed to mean. Anyway, it’s Friday the 13th, so I thought a little “spoof” would be a fun way to end the week.

All kidding aside, there were a few notable quotes from a local mag and a Houston paper. Earlier in the week I got an email about a wine blogger conference in Sonoma in October. The day before I was invited to participate in a series of Italian seminars across the country, sponsored by the Italian Trade Commission. We shall see.

Press is good – Sales is mo’ bettah. And this week I have been pounding the pavement, like I promised. With more to come. Austin, Houston, I’s a comin’.

About my Intern-Avatars. Here in flyover country we need ways to help us carry the message and I am in the throes of trying to decide which new Intern-Avatar I should choose. We have narrowed it down to two.

The hottie and the nerd.

I’m kind of leaning toward the nerd, as she seems to have a better sense of her place in the world. And it seems she has a more timeless design sense. Of course she can be a little blasé. Please feel free to comment.

These are not a real people. This is not a real post. Except for the quotes. They are real.

So were the chicken and the Arneis.

OK, back to business.

Original post by Alfonso Cevola

Excuse me, but I have just had one of the best food and wine combinations of the year. I was out with friends to an outdoor concert with picnic food. They brought fried chicken and I brought a bottle of Pio Cesare Arneis. Holy Mother of God, was that a match made in Heaven. Give it a try sometime, no kidding. OK, back to business.

This was the week I was quoted but this wasn’t the week my “deal” came through, whatever that is ‘sposed to mean. Anyway, it’s Friday the 13th, so I thought a little “spoof” would be a fun way to end the week.

All kidding aside, there were a few notable quotes from a local mag and a Houston paper. Earlier in the week I got an email about a wine blogger conference in Sonoma in October. The day before I was invited to a series of Italian seminars across the country, sponsored by the Italian Trade Commission. We shall see.

Press is good – Sales is mo’ bettah. And this week I have been pounding the pavement, like I promised. With more to come. Austin, Houston, I’s a comin’.

About my Intern-Avatars. Here in flyover country we need ways to help us carry the message and I am in the throes of trying to decide which new Intern-Avatar I should choose. We have narrowed it down to two.

The hottie and the nerd.

I’m kind of leaning toward the nerd, as she seems to have a better sense of her place in the world. And it seems she has a more timeless design sense. Of course she can be a little blasé. Please feel free to comment.

These are not a real people. This is not a real post. Except for the quotes. They are real.

So were the chicken and the Arneis.

Original post by Alfonso Cevola

When: 3-5 September 2008

Where: Shanghai New International Expo Center

Organizer:
Koelnmesse GmbH
Shanghai Derui Exhibition Planning Co.,Ltd

Supporter:
CIMS
EAFCA
Cafe de Honduras
Institute del Cafe de Costa Rica

Asia’s market for coffee and tea is now the biggest in the world. The China market is expected to dominate the market by more than half in three years time when Asia is expected to

Original post by Robert

When: 3-5 September 2008

Where: Shanghai New International Expo Center

Organizer:
Koelnmesse GmbH
Shanghai Derui Exhibition Planning Co.,Ltd

Supporter:
CIMS
EAFCA
Cafe de Honduras
Institute del Cafe de Costa Rica

Asia’s market for coffee and tea is now the biggest in the world. The China market is expected to dominate the market by more than half in three years time when Asia is expected to

Original post by Robert

It is deep winter. The snows lay heavy on the mountains of northern Japan. Cedar trees hang sparkling, dusted with ice, over frozen rivers and streams. The air is crisp, even crystalline in its stillness, and the white landscape yields only the slightest muffled sounds.

In the heart of this winter landscape a strange sight emerges every winter. A huge igloo, constructed entirely of ice, filled with rotund canvas bags. From these somewhat alien shapes that hang suspended from the ceiling at minus 2 degrees Centigrade, drip solitary drops of a sake unlike any other in the world.

This strange midwinter landscape on Hokkaido, Japan’s northernmost island, is the result of one of the more esoteric and regimented sake brewing processes found in Japan, and is constructed each year by the Takasago brewery to make their most precious product, a sake which they have appropriately named “Divine Droplets.”

Much like winemaking, the sake making process involves fermenting a big tank of liquidy mushy stuff that gradually turns into alcohol as the fermentation process progresses. Once fermentation is complete, that liquid mash — the alcohol plus the solids that are called “lees” are generally pressed in a big mechanical device to extract the liquid and leave the solids behind.

In winemaking, however, there tends to be quite a difference between the wine that simply runs trickling out of this mush (known as “free run juice″) and the wine that is extracted through pressing. The former is usually more balanced, less tannic and bitter, and generally higher quality wine than the pressed wine, which tends to contain such flavors because they are extracted from the skins and seeds as they are compressed. There is such a marked difference between the two “juices” that many top wineries only use the free run juice, and simply discard or sell off their press juice in bulk.

The sake making process is quite similar in that at a certain point most sakes are pressed off their lees, however the press juice in sake making is the most common source of juice for even the most premium sakes. Rice, of course, lacks the skin and seeds which contribute to the difference in flavors between free run and press juice in wine, so the juice pressed off the sake is not particularly undesirable.

Having said as much, however, there are those in the sake world like Takasago Shuzo who take pains (and great expense) to produce their own version of “free run juice” through the slow, painstaking, and very low-yielding process of drip pressing their sake. The brewers who believe that letting only the action of gravity on the lees extract their sake suggest that the resulting sake is the most delicate, and my limited experience with such sakes makes me inclined to agree. Perhaps just like Pinot Noir, which is famous for its delicacy and tendency to react poorly to rough treatment in the winery, top quality rice mash produces different results if it is babied through the process.

Takasago Shuzo was founded in 1899 in the town of Asahikawa City in Hokkaido, making it one of Northern Japan’s oldest operating breweries. This area of Japan is home to many sake breweries, as it offers two things essential to brewing premium sake: cold temperatures and pure mountain spring water. Temperatures in the area regularly fall to minus twenty degrees centigrade and the mountains of the area offer a bounty of springs, some of which have been used by sake brewers for centuries.

The importance of temperature in brewing sake has to do with the minimization of contamination by airborne yeasts and bacteria. Even a small amount of foreign biological agents can significantly affect the flavors of a sake as it ferments. The still, cold winter temperatures in the unheated sake brewing buildings of most breweries tends to minimize such contamination, but if you really want to eliminate all foreign agents, one of the things you might do would be to build a giant igloo in which to make your sake.

A lot of sake, especially the most refined junmai daiginjo sakes like this one, in which more than 50% of the mass of each grain of rice have been polished away before brewing, tend to evoke winter landscapes for me. I suppose that part of this quality I project into the sake, knowing how and where it is made. But the clean, crisp qualities of some sake really do evoke the heart of winter, with aromas and flavors that are instantly familiar to those who grew up in the snowy mountains, as I did.

The way Divine Droplets is made makes it a special sake. But it’s beauty is revealed only through its tasting. This is one of the most exceptional sakes made in the world, and one of my personal gold standards for the magical qualities that daiginjo sakes can possess.

Tasting Notes:
Colorless in the glass, this sake smells of rainwater, wet cedar, and flowers, with a hint of malted milk. In the mouth it is effortlessly clean, beautifully balanced, and sexy-slippery as it moves across the palate. The delicate flavors swirl between jasmine, melon, and a quartz-like mineral quality that is hard to describe. As with some of the finest white wines, this sake is so aromatic that there is the illusion of sweetness in the flavor that is completely disarming, as any concentrated effort to actually taste sweetness is impossible — the sake is bone dry. The finish is marked by a pleasant, malted milk-ball quality that lingers for a long time and then slowly fades.

Food Pairing:
Classically delicate in nature, this sake is a beautiful accompaniment to sashimi (how about albacore or yellowtail?) or lightly seared fish in the tataki style. Its subtlety will be overwhelmed by strong flavors, so it is best paired with milder foods.

Overall Score: between 9.5 and 10

How Much?: $45 for 720ml bottle (also available in 300ml bottles).

This sake is available for purchase on the Internet.

Original post by Alfonso Cevola