Wine Appreciation

Much like yours, I’m sure, my palate has evolved over the years. And in the case of white wines—California Chardonnay in particular—I’ve moved away from those whose overall style is formed and fashioned by the use of oak. It was not always so, for I clearly remember years ago being particularly irked when I overheard a wine store clerk murmuring sarcastically that the evening’s Chardonnay tasting class “was filled with a bunch of beginners.” We were put down because the group’s favorite wine of the session was a golden-hued, viscous, oak-infused California Chardonnay that tasted, as I now recall, more like an alcoholic fruit drink than real wine.

That nasty clerk was, of course, correct. We preferred it because it tasted somewhat sweet, with a buttery-smooth, vanilla-like, palate-coating richness, and an in-your-face tropical fruit flavor. Given those alluring, sensual qualities, what wasn’t there to like? Interestingly, what others and I didn’t prefer or rank well that night, was the Chardonnay style that had little or no contact with oak, of which France’s crisp, mineral-laden Chablis is the reference point. That style—which I now favor—finished dead last. However, judging by the company I keep, and the stores and wine reviews I browse, it seems that Chardonnays without oak (unoaked) still rank at the lower end of consumer preferences.

Oak’s effect on wine, like many of food’s serendipitous discoveries, was observed after winegrowers began using barrels to handle, store and transport the finished product. An oak barrel was never intended to modify wine’s basic character, but it did. Also, once oak’s salutary effect was fully embraced, it was only a matter of time before winemakers began to experiment with their various “oak options.” Just as chefs used herbs, spices and additives to improve the aroma, color, flavor and texture of basic food products, so did winemakers use oak—in its variety of options—to also modify and elevate wine to a new and improved state. (They can, as well, use a whole bunch of other additives and techniques with which to “craft” wines, but that’s another story.)

If you like soft (less acidic), full-bodied, deeply hued Chardonnays (and other whites) that are rich, ripe and highly aromatic, then look for those that have been barrel fermented and barrel aged. If that seems like too much of a good thing, then stainless steel fermentation followed by barrel aging should offer a lighter touch. (Be sure to check wine bottle labels for those details.) However, if you only want a much slighter effect, then look for those labels that use the words reserve, barrel select or aged. They, most likely, have been treated—either during or after fermentation—to a tea-bag-like steeping of large, porous bags of oak chips and/or chunks; or even more creatively, a dollop or two of a “tincture of oak essence.” (I doubt, however, if those options would ever be disclosed on the bottle.)

Lastly, one of my reasons for avoiding oaky Chardonnays is their relative lack of food friendliness. I may be overly analytical (or critical) in this respect, but I feel that, on balance, a wine’s inherent and unencumbered natural profile—aroma, flavor, acidity and body style—tend to yield more food pairing options than those whose character have been masked and/or re-crafted with oak seasonings.

Wine Appreciation

It was a year to remember. President Gerald Ford lost his re-election bid to Jimmy Carter. Sylvester Stallone flexed his “pecs” as Rocky received the Academy award for Best Picture. Happy Days and Laverne and Shirley were TV’s most popular shows. And two “Steve’s” started an offbeat computer company named “Apple,” while a couple other nerds created one called “Microsoft.” It was 1976, the year of our Bicentennial celebration. It was also, as someone said, the year that “a vinous shot was heard around the world.” Actually, it was more like a few swirls/sniffs/spats, the outcome of which was widely publicized by an attending American magazine correspondent. It had to do with a theretofore unique wine tasting competition that has since been immortalized as The 1976 Paris Tasting.

Steven Spurrier, an Englishman who owned a retail wine shop and well known wine school that taught wine evaluation skills to French food and wine professionals as well as neophyte tourists, conceived and promoted a competitive tasting which pitted California Chardonnays and Cabernets against their crème de la crème counterparts from Bordeaux and Burgundy. It’s important to note that in the 70‘s, when it came to world class wine, there was French, and there was . . . well . . . there was French. Nothing else was considered close in quality. Even though California wines were made from the same classic varietals, and vinified with similar techniques, they never received the same respect. But Spurrier, who had previously visited several Napa Valley wineries, was impressed with the quality of their wines and felt that they could make a respectable showing in a competitive tasting.

He assembled a tasting panel that included nine eminently qualified, French wine-savvy professionals: one renowned sommelier, two owners of Michelin three star restaurants, two wine scientists, two wine journalists, and owners from each of two prestigious Bordeaux and Burgundy wine properties. All of them had experienced professionally trained palates. The wines were tasted “blind,” that is, they were brown-bagged so as to not be identifiable. Under the attentive eyes of journalists and other spectators, each wine was evaluated on a twenty point scale for color, bouquet, flavor, and balance. Much has been written how the judges disdainfully mocked some wines they thought were Californian, and how they praised others they thought were French. However, when the results were tallied and the wines were unbagged, all the attendees were stunned by the unimaginable: the Cabernet winner was a 1973 Stags Leap Wine Cellars, and the Chardonnay victor was a 1973 Chateau Montelena! Voila !

This stunning achievement for those California wines has since been immortalized at the Smithsonian’s Museum of American History with a detailed display, and one bottle of each has been placed in the permanent archives. But the most important unintended consequence of that tasting is that it initiated a quality-driven competition that continues unabated to this day, and that elusive quest for perfection is producing wines that have never been better.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

It’s that time of year. Short, cool days followed by long, even cooler, nights. My body is aching and I’m wondering if that glucosamine will ever kick in. In absence of that, I’ll just have to invoke my reliable, Old World remedy and pour a few extra ounces of one of my favorite reds at dinnertime. And, of course, I have numerous options to consider. There’s the ubiquitous, full-bodied choice of just about everyone: Cabernet Sauvignon. This is trailed by the mellow crowd pleaser Merlot. Then there’s the ever popular, jammy Zinfandel. And close in pursuit are the American Pinot Noirs and Syrahs. All are workable choices. But as I occasionally do, I’m gazing beyond our mainland borders, to the land of gazpacho, paella, and manchego cheese, where overconfident bulls should know better than to charge at sword-brandishing men wrapped in stylish, velvet tights.

You guessed it—Spain—the nation where some writers assert wine growing was in full bloom long before the wine-savvy Romans started their imperial march north. When I first started to explore Spanish wines, Rioja was the premier wine region in Spain. In the last several years the powerful and intense wines of Ribera Del Duero and Priorat, and a few others, have challenged that primacy. But I’m still partial to the Bordeaux-like elegance of Riojas. They never seem to fail me, or my dinner guests for that matter.

Spain has an appellation (and bottle labeling) system similar to other European countries. That is, the region’s name appears on the label rather than grape varieties from which it is made. However, if I tell you that the main grape in Rioja red wine is Tempranillo, and is frequently blended with Garnacha, Mazuelo, and Graciano, I hope you won’t get xenophobic and not give Rioja an appearance or two on your dinner table.

In ascending order of price and quality, there are three levels of red wine: Crianza, Reserva, and Gran Reserva. While all are drink-worthy, I’m focusing on Reservas, those polished, user-friendly, elegant ones that make cool winter nights seem like spring. They’re well balanced, silky, and appealingly aromatic and will work well with roast beef, lamb, or chicken, as well numerous other dishes calling for medium-to-full bodied red wines. Additionally, no cellaring is required, because all the barrel and bottle aging that’s required is achieved prior to release.

Some of the producers that I’ve enjoyed over the years are Muga, Murrieta, Remelluri, Riscal, Montecillo, and Rioja Alta. And at prices from $15 to $20+ per bottle their biggest selling points are their immediate drink ability, and they deliver a level of quality far in excess of their price tag. No bull, could those considerate Spaniards make it any easier for us?


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

If you are like my wife and I, you enjoy having dinner with friends—no matter who is hosting. Recently, one of our friends, who are part of our multi-family, rotating “Gourmet Club,” invited us to their home. This evening it was just the four of us—not the entire group. As we sat down the husband brought out a couple bottles of wine. One was a Pinot Noir; the other, a minor appellation Bordeaux. I was excited by the variety, but upon closer inspection, I noticed the bottles were less than half-full. I commented that they appeared to be the same types of wines they served us when they hosted one of the recent club dinners.

They informed me that they were not just the same “types” of wines; they were, in fact, the very same bottles left over from the dinner they hosted six weeks earlier! They had re-corked and stored the bottles in a cabinet for the last six weeks! Other than being “pour-able,” or “roto-rooter quality,” I do not know enough wine tasting descriptors to charitably describe them. They were not just “over the hill,” they were comatose, barely on life support. The point being, other than storing them until they are dead, what does one do with left over bottles of wine? One of my brothers used to pour all leftover dinner wines, no matter how varietally different, into one bottle. A sort of Zinfandel/Cabernet/Pinot Noir, “Tailgate Red” as it were. Interesting, but . . . .

If you’re a routine dinnertime wine drinker, put your unfinished wines immediately into the refrigerator, even if it’s red. The cold stabilization slows down the oxidation. If it’s white, and is within several days, uncork it and enjoy a glass. No special treatment needed. If it’s red, uncork it, pour it into a tumbler and “nuke” in the microwave for about five or six seconds and enjoy it with your food of the moment. (Trust me, it works and doesn’t affect the wine.) If, on the other hand you’re concerned about affecting an otherwise special wine by nuking it, then remove it from the fridge and let it come down to your preferred drinking temperature.

If you drink wine infrequently and won’t or can’t do the above, then still initially put it into the fridge, but use it periodically in your cooking. Deglaze the pan in which you’ve roasted that chicken or leg of lamb. Or, add a half cup or so to your purchased or homemade spaghetti sauce. The alcohol burns off but flavor lingers. Or, if you have a near-full bottle and don’t plan to use it sometime soon, chop up some onions, carrots, celery and garlic and sauté them a bit. Add the wine and an equal amount of chicken or beef broth, a pinch or two of thyme and savory, and reduce the mixture by half. Taste the sauce along the way and adjust flavors as needed with salt, pepper, etc. Freeze it for later use. When its time to use it, add some butter to enrich it and pour over your grilled steak or whatever else is on the plate. And then uncork a fresh bottle and pour yourself a glass.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

When I was growing up, one of the breakfast rituals that my brothers and I performed virtually every morning was reading the back of the cereal boxes while we slurped and crunched our way through Rice Krispies, Quaker Oats, and our enduring favorite Wheaties.  We were convinced, of course, that our daily bowlful of the Breakfast of Champions would develop us into major league baseball talent like Stan Musial, Joe DiMaggio or other athletes whose images were emblazoned on the front of Wheaties.

“But what have cereal boxes to do with wine,” you ask?  Well, it seems the same old habit is reappearing—at least an adult variation of it.  But it’s not the back of cereal boxes I’m perusing these days; it’s the back label of wine bottles.  I still browse the front labels, for I’m always fascinated by the photos, drawings and artwork that are designed to trigger a “feel good” buying impulse.  However, today’s pontification is about the typically unexplored and underappreciated back label, which often contains voluntary but nonetheless vital information about a winery and its wines.

Some back labels inform us that the winery is family owned and operated.  That’s important to me since I’m an entrepreneurial type, and I always like to support the risk takers.  Others refer to the wine being estate grown (from their own property) and bottled.  That’s important to me since I can rely on a continuity of type and style.  Still others are telling us about their sustainable and/or organic winegrowing programs that hint at our environmental benefits.

Other labels specify winemaking methods and their effect on the wine’s style.  A well known Sauvignon Blanc indicates that it “Combines both cold tank and barrel fermentation to create a wine that delivers intense fruit with a hint of oak.”  That describes it perfectly, and you now know about two fermentations and how they affect flavor and taste.  For those into winespeak tasting descriptors, many labels state evocative fruit, flower and other metaphors, which allow you to compare your palate to the winemaker’s.

If you find yourself really savoring an imported wine, be sure to scan for the importer or distributor’s name on the back label.  They generally have a regional area of expertise and/or a portfolio of wine producers that they represent.  An Internet search of their web site will detail other wines and producers you may wish to explore.  For domestic winegrowers, their Internet site is typically on the back label, and virtually anything about them can be found there.  One of the bonuses of visiting their web site is discovering details about specific wines

In closing, I have always considered a wine’s back label to be a producer’s silent salesperson, a quick search for further details, and the last information stopping point before taking the bottle to the check out stand.  If you already know and understand what is on the front label, browsing the back label can only increase your chances of making an informed purchase.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

“You ARE kidding me, aren’t you?” my wife said as she stared incredulously at the glass that I was using to drink my red wine. It was a squat, thick lipped, tumbler that I occasionally use for drinking water and fruit juices. “You of all people!” she added for additional taunt. “We’ve got nice crystal stemware, and you’re drinking from that . . . that thing?”

Sure enough, that’s what I was doing. It was dinnertime and I was drinking wine from a stubby, glass that was built to survive even the worst that the Terminator could inflict. Actually, the glass seems ideal for sipping Pastis, that milky white (when water is added), anise flavored liquor that the French call the “milk of Provence.” In his best selling book, Toujours Provence, Peter Mayle asserts that to enjoy Pastis, ambiance is the key ingredient, “which dictates how and where it should be drunk.” He says that it can’t be drunk in a hurry. It can’t be drunk in New York or England or “anywhere that requires its customers to wear socks. It wouldn’t taste the same. It has to be in Provence.” And although he doesn’t mention it, I suspect the right glass—a non-descript tumbler—is also one of the vital components. Anything more refined, like crystal or quality stemware, just wouldn’t do the deed.

Similarly, my wife requires a specific cup and saucer in order to properly enjoy her breakfast caffeine boost. It has to be thin-rimmed and of delicate construction. She claims the coffee is not as enjoyable and tastes completely different in anything else but fine china. Of course, I suspect the morning ambiance is given a substantial boost when she’s stirred and gently awakened by the enticing aromas of ready-to-drink, Columbian Supremo that wafts into the bedroom, courtesy of you know who.

Also, if you’re into super-premium wines, then you might also be into Riedel wine glasses from Austria. If not, be advised that they have produced a highly successful line of connoisseur wine stemware that are specifically designed to deliver the heights of drinking pleasure for each of the most popular red and white varietals. That’s correct, one individual and distinct shape for each grape varietal. Ambience, it appears, can at times make special demands of us.

But “peasant food, “as I refer to it, was one of the key players in our dinnertime ambiance: leftover stew I discovered lurking behind several Tupperwares in the corner of our freezer. Also, we had a half empty bottle of a so-so Pinot Noir sulking quietly in the food compartment door of our Sub-Zero refrigerator. It was, without a doubt, the perfect, elemental match of two underachievers who would come together to deliver their last best shot. They were destined for the other. And, as such, the moment demanded something without the breeding of a Riedel, or even the workman-like reliability of our anonymous daily drinker stemware. No, it required the perfect partner—that ordinary, undistinguished, squat little tumbler.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

A buddy of mine says he likes his red wines “in the style of Jennifer Lopez.” You know, what you see and sniff is what you get with this colorful, grapey and juicy quaff. Overtly fruity and vibrant, with no tannic edges, this extroverted, purple, mouth watering gem is made for immediate enjoyment. Age it in your wine cellar for later drinking? Heck no, guzzle it today, and enjoy it with simple, food—ribs, burgers, sausages, basic pasta. Serve it in tumblers or Styrofoam cups, and nobody will bat an eye. Subtleties and nuances are not part of this all time Bistro favorite. Everything is up front, right where it belongs. There are no cerebral discussions needed to appreciate this hedonistic package of pleasure.

“Gimme a Catherine Zeta-Jones Red any day,” spouts another friend of mine. Maturity, refinement, and elegance are the hallmarks of his style of red wine. Approachable and certainly enjoyable right now, this well structured, elegant Cru delivers complex, voluptuous flavors of blackcurrant, cedar and tobacco. But this world class claret, with well balanced fruit and tannins, needs a little time and understanding to soften and reveal its long term promises. When the time comes, you must pay attention because the messages are soft, gentle, and nuance-laden. Satisfying throughout its long life, this very special red wine requires the right food, the right glass, and the right crowd. Snobby? Some would say so. Ah, but for those who know…

And yet another friend insists that the “Julia Roberts Red” is the only way to go. While frequently described as a “feminine” style of wine, many men have been known to knock themselves out pursuing it elusive charms. A “sweetie,” but not in the sugar sense, this aromatic beauty offers a nifty middle ground to the two wines mentioned above. This Pretty Woman is outgoing, fragrant, and smooth tasting from the get-go. Offering more serious flavors, structure, and longevity than J-Lo, it doesn’t require Zeta-Jones’ long term commitment before you understand what it’s all about. And while it is known for its immediate, tannin-free red berry appeal, this is not a one night stand drink. Though sometimes elusive and occasionally confounding, this is the wine that you will keep going back to week after week and year after year.

So, what’s the point of all that anthropomorphic word play? Well, first of all, I’ve described three types of red wine. Each made from different grapes. With each style providing its own brand of pleasure. Recognize them? I’m suggesting, not so subtly, there’s variety out there. There are many reds and numerous whites that should be explored and enjoyed. If you’re willing to learn the major grape varieties, and their flavor profile (taste characteristics), plus a few wine vocabulary basics (wine’s structural aspects), then you’re well on your way to knowing what’s in your glass, and more importantly, why you like it.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

The purpose of wine tasting is to assess its various properties—its appearance, aromas, flavors, and overall structure. That is, to determine what’s it’s all about, if it’s well made and, most importantly, if it’s appealing, and why. And, pretense has nothing to do with it, though some may think so. So, let’s review the steps involved in tasting: See, swirl, sniff, sip, swallow, and savor.

Color is a leading indicator of a wine’s condition, and the goal in the “see step” is to get an inkling of that. If you see brown, there’s trouble ahead. White wines darken when something is wrong or if they’re over the hill, and reds, as they age, lose their color and develop a brownish tinge. For the professional critics there’s much more to be gleaned from the nuances of color, but for the rest of us, just be sure it’s bright and clear.

Swirling, the next step, is a must. It unleashes all those pleasing aromas. If you’re insecure about swirling, practice the motion with some water. A couple swirls will do, this is not a centrifugal force test.

Next, take a couple quick sniffs. No long inhalations, otherwise you’ll fatigue your nasal receptors. So, what do you detect? Wine, you say? But if you detect other goodies like flowers, fruits, herbs, or spices, then you’re closing in on wine descriptors—the terms tasters use to characterize particular grape varieties. Hint: each grape variety has its own unique aromas, and with a little practice, you will quickly learn to distinguish the more popular varietals.

Now take a generous sip. Roll it around to all parts of your tongue. Savor it Some people close their eyes to eliminate visual distractions. Others suck air in over their tongue (think hot soup) to propel aromas into the back of their mouth and into their nasal passages. The point is to go slow and get your taste buds and receptors working. Now swallow and think about it. So, what do you taste? Still wine, eh? But just like in the “sniff step,” if you taste something that mirrors those wine descriptors mentioned above, then you’re well on your way to being a journeyman wine geek.

So, you’ve looked at it, sniffed it, tasted it; now it’s time to opine. Did you like the color, flavor, and aroma? Did it taste too dry, or do you prefer it sweeter? Was that white crisp and lively? And that red, was it fruity and smooth, or coarse and tannic? Would you buy it? And can you tell someone, anyone, why?


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

Somehow, this red wine has fallen from grace. And why is that, since it’s soft, gentle and enjoyable to drink? It doesn’t require cerebral discussions to appreciate it, and its attributes assure that it will seldom be astringent or overly tannic. As such, it’s an ideal wine for aspiring wine enthusiasts starting their journey into the savory delights of red wines. On the other hand, this wine is also favored by savvy wine consumers who seek a wine that has a reliable character, and one that pairs readily with a wide variety of meat and poultry recipes.

With one notable French exception, it typically makes no pretense or leap toward greatness. What you see and sniff is what you get, and “smooth” is the best adjective that describes it. As one friend said, “It tastes like a red wine should .” It hints at black fruit flavors and aromatics, and occasional smoky, toasty nuances. That profile is why it became the red wine of choice in the early 1990’s when the TV newsmagazine 60 Minutes announced red wine as the key variable in the French Paradox—why in spite of their seemingly unhealthy diet, the French seemed to have fewer cardiac issues than beer drinking, Cola-loving Americans.

Wines geeks know I speak of Merlot, the wine of choice for many years until most recently, when many consumers changed to Pinot Noir. Notwithstanding that, Merlot remains the primary grape underlying most wines produced in the Bordeaux appellations of Pomerol and St. Emilion. With their concentrated, fruit forward, low tannic profiles, these regions have been for years red hot, international best sellers. At release date, the finer ones sell in the three-digit range and become more costly as supplies diminish. Chateau Ptrus, one of the world’s most coveted wines is primarily, if not totally, made from Merlot. According to one Internet site, the 2000 Ptrus is currently fetching up to $5000 per bottle—yep, per bottle!

In addition to its Right Bank supremacy, Merlot is the primary blending grape used to counterbalance the harshness of the Cabernet Sauvignon in most Left Bank Grand Crus, and, as such, without Merlot, the fame of Bordeaux would be alternately defined. In the New World models, Merlot is typically made as a stand alone, varietally labeled wine, and is available from as low as $10 to $90 or more per bottle. And the good news is that there are numerous, attractive wines from well-known producers in the $12 to $20 range. Your local retailer should be able to advise what style and price is just right for you.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/

Wine Appreciation

The first piece of advice I received when I decided to explore the mysteries of Bacchus’ blessing came from a friend that I thought knew something about wine. I asked for his counsel on how to proceed into that somewhat intimidating world of swirl, sniff, and sip. He caught my ear with the following seduction: “Tom, it’s as simple as ABC.”

Wow, I could hardly wait for the details! I was salivating at the simplicity of it all. I would be an overnight wine guy. The ladies would adore me, my friends would be envious, and wine stewards and retail wine clerks would respect me. This was great stuff!

He leaned forward, looked around to see if anyone else was listening, and whispered into my ear in a hushed, almost religious tone, “Always buy Cabernet. Always buy Chardonnay.”

“Yes, yes,” I said, anxiously waiting for further formulaic insight that would deliver me from doubt and indecision, “What’s the rest of it?”

“That’s it,” he said, somewhat irked at my insinuation. “That’s the ABC’s of Wine. You don’t have to know anything else. One’s red and one’s white. One goes with meat, the other goes with fish. They’re the most popular. Everyone sells Cabernet, and Chardonnay, and everyone who’s with it buys Cabernet and Chardonnay.”

To a large extent, my friend was correct. Just walk into any retail liquor/wine store and examine the shelf space occupied by those two wines — they dominate. And the next time you order wine in a restaurant, just take note of the number of Cabernets and Chardonnays on the wine list — they prevail. One goes with meat (but not all meat dishes), and one goes with fish (but not all fish dishes). No doubt, those two wines are the most popular wines for most wine drinkers.

Of course, I really wanted to be with it, so I tried his approach for a while. I became somewhat confident at ordering, and I even became knowledgeable about their underlying characteristics. But popularity and simplicity did not do it for me. I was not satisfied with the narrowness of my friend’s recommendation. There had to be an additional perspective. So I approached another friend and solicited his counsel. I told him I wanted to enter the kingdom of cork dorks and serious wine geeks.

He leaned forward and solemnly uttered the following: “It’s as simple as ABC, Tom.”

“No, no thanks,” I said, “I’ve already been down that narrow wine road. There’s got to be more to it than just Cabernet and Chardonnay.”

“Precisely, my little cork puller, the real ABC’s of Wine are as follows: Avoid buying Chardonnay and Avoid buying Cabernet. I don’t mean forever, I mean just don’t buy those two wines all the time.” Now we’re getting somewhere.


– Tom Barras

www.TomBarrasWineCommentary.blogspot.com/