I loved the look of the long gone restaurant Danube in Tribeca, it always made me want to show cleavage and risk high heels. But even though the interiors of Brushstroke , David Bouley's new kid is more Ikea than Klimpt, because of Chef Yamada's precise food attack I'm hooked.
While the New York Magazine review confused me, and I was left thinking that what Adam really craved was sushi instead of kaiseki fashioned cuisine, there was one little morsel that was one of the most exciting tastes I've had in ages: fresh hearts of palm in a basil miso sauce. When even one bite in a restaurant causes a swoon, that is a restaurant worth risking all. This was a clean tasting hearts of palm pesto with such picquantry I had to resist the urge to stuff my mouth, ala potato chips. Of course the texture was different, almost like al dente artichoke heart but the impulse was to stuff my mouth, artlessly, just can't stop eatin fastly and furiously. Of course, highly unacceptable, I slowed down and toyed, coaxed and savored, then cleaned the bowl with my finger.
That was one lovely treat for the taste buds. Other memorables was the new tasting use of green tea (think texture) in the cocktails, thanks to mixologist Gen Yamatoto.
I also admit I'm a sucker for the use of lilac to decorate the plate.
Young sommelier baby-faced Seju Yang, (pinched from 15east)put together a well thought through list peppered with the bulk in the $100-$300 range but was kind to the under $120 as well, and was thinking that it might be cool to return and try the J. Roty Marsannay (2002) for $75. I was tempted by the wine but I gave my self over to the sake.
I admit, I sometimes get annoyed by the increasing volume and richness of the stuff, as if it is headed after the tropical chardonnay drinker. I know little about sake making technology but I'm eager to taste natural yeasted stuff, or at least sake that takes the foot off of the aromatic yeast pedal. And that is exactly why I loved when he indulged me with a side by side tasting of Chikurin Junmai Ginjo sake; same producer, one organic, (Ecocert) and the other conventional.
Both Seju and I agreed that the organic sake was far more complex and interesting while the other was common.
Brushstroke, 30 Hudson Street (Duane Street). Dinner every night except Sundays, with menus starting at $85. (212) 791-3771.
The first time I met Jancis Robinson, years ago I was so star-struck she must have thought a cat had ripped out my tongue. This time, a few weeks back, I had a serious heart-to heart-with self and thus overcame the shyness, had a terrific time. What a great woman and talent, but you knew that. Really. We met at The Modern. My Lustau oloroso secco (was drecco, pretty lousy sherry selections) $12, or was it $11? Jancis' Vilmart coup was $28,delicious but too high for me. I was pretty discouraged by the wines by the glass choices. In fact stumped. I mean, there's always something good to drink @ Danny's restaurants, right?
I returned to the restaurant on 53rd Street with a friend who wanted to get a light dinner and I had a deeper look at the list. It's a thick one, filled with what Talia Baiocchi who pens a great critic of wine list column over at Eater would say, repleat with 'WTF' or rather, What the F*cks.
In this case we're talking mostly a 3-4+ times retail markup, I usually walk out of a resto at 3.
+
Looking for something drinkable at a gentle prices, I passed Burgundy where there was barely anything to drink under $1000. I inched towards a $36 Breuer Charms, just an easy riesling and knew it would be decent, but wanted something drier and more angular. The sommelier (not Belinda) came over and when he heard my lament that there were no white Juras, which he immediately thought I meant Vin Jaune (not through the meal, thank you.) suggested chenin. Good move. His first suggestion was Baumard, good price @ the mid -$40s, but I really don't like the wines at all. Here there were two dry listed and one sweet. Next. In fact the central white Loire list was skippable. Plenty of Huet, in a library collection at breathtaking prices, but no dry wines offered. Then he suggested the Domaine du Collier Saumur 2005. I am sure this esoteric chenin is not a big seller, but I love the wine and given how odd most of the list is, I wondered how it snuck in. Most probably when Stéphane Colling was the wine director? Mine for $115. Really only twice today's retail price but four times its original. By percentage, a bargain, but, doesn't she want to move it? It was buried. It was too high. It will be there for a long time.
+ Hearing I wanted to stay low he said, "Oh, you want a value wine," in other words, you are cheap.
So, he sent me to the Hidden Gems. Here is where I'd expect to find trousseau, mondeuse, gamay from the northern Rhone, esoteric wines with take a chance prices. Not so here. The Albrecht Cremant Rosé which retails at $14 a bottle (here for $50) is hardly a gem, exposed or hidden. Same thing with Bouchard Bourgogne for $50, or Momo from NZ @$40 or Hugels no matter how cheap. These are wines I'm delighted to find at the New Hampshire State wine store or in a Maine supermarket where the drinking is difficult, but I was at The Modern--a class act. So, why don't the wines reflect the Danny credo?
+
And then there was the 1/2 bottle list.
Rubicon @ $160? Foradori Granato @ $80? (A great wine but the price? The 750 ml retail is $40.) And the kicker.....Masciarelli Montepulciano @ $20. Yes, Masciarelli.
+
I had the feeling that unlike any 11 Mad, Gram or USC --where the pages are filled with lovely selections at any price--the message seemed to be if you're trying not to bet the dacha on wine, screw you, you can have the Olive Garden choices. (to note: our Charms was perfectly acceptable at $36).
+
Had my friend wanted red, we could have had some 2006 Trenel for $44, but on second thought, I don't like the wines at all, they have a decidedly commercial taste. If I had $, the second deal were the underpriced Bartolo Mascarellos, under twice retail. Bargain! (more holdouts from Stéphane Colling days?) And yes, the Collier. Now that I take a closer look, they have La Caravelle for $85 and that's a nice price!
+
Here's the way my psychology works. I would have paid more money for a wine but I had lost faith, so I wasn't going to budge. I didn't feel that this was a wine director who loved wine or loved the customer. When I've done lists, (or what I see on lists I love) I take the opposite position; if you're going to drink crap (Hello Ms. Margherita PG or Yellow Label) or overblown fancy Napa labels or Guigal you'll pay dearly for it. But if you want a wine because you love it, not because of its status, and it really is a hidden gem, I'm going to make it a little easy for you.
+
I was deeply confused here. But if I were going to go back and if you were and want to take the shorthand approach, here are my suggestions. After all, the list is 49 pages long, there had to be some things to drink.
White Burgundy: I like Jean Michel Giboulot (spelled Giboulet here) a lot and was surprised to see him on the list, but $165 for the La Combe d’Eve 2006 so close to the Haute Cote seemed steep. But should be lovely. Otherwise, the J. M Caunous-Hudelot Folatieres also at $165. the '99 Pernot was a nice surprise (leftover from Mr. Colling?) but wonder if it might be past it's prime, especially for $260. But on the other hand, could be brilliant.
+
Alsace: Remy Gresser, is no one I know, but I'd take a chance on the 2009 pinot, Brandhoff @ $52 and the riesling Duttenhoff @ 48.
+
For cabernet franc, the 2008 Breton Les Galichets @ $65 or the 2007 Joguet Cuvée Terroir @$48.
+
For a red splurge the Jasmin 2001 & 2004 for $135 and $140 respectively.
+
Domestic? If you love Moraga and Beaux Freres + culties, you'll be happy from the States, but otherwise you might want that $18 bottle of Lioco Indica carignan for $52.
+
Italy? There's only one winemaker in Italy here I'd drink and it happens to be a favorite and a bargain. My splurge goes to those Mascarellos.
+
So you won't go thirsty, but it might be a bumpy road to get there.
Readers of this blog can rightly assume that I'm no fan of the Suckling Tapes. I've heard others pose the theory that watching the high-gloss productions have the compelling magnetism of a train wreck. Yet, I've not been able to make it through the end of any.
In one disturbing episode he, Jay McInerny and David Sokolin tasted and scored a mashup of 1982 Bordeaux. None of these men gave context. There were no stories behind the chateau or the vintage, all they proffered were boring, (very) tasting notes and numbers.
Directed towards Suckling's target customer? Of course.
Directed to the collector who cares soley for status and not taste? It would appear.
God knows, there are enough of those types around, who view their 1982 Latour as their new Breitling, or their new piece of arm-candy. Yes, good luck to him.
While I turned the tapes off, I found myself thinking about how years back when I sat in the Angelika watching The Cook the Thief His Wife And Her Lover, I had to leave.
Not during this scene, but during the end of this:
Tell me, is this the scene where Michael is being force fed pages of his books? ( or that's what I thought. At the time, I was so troubled, I ran away from the wet sounds of Michael's strangulation, forced to eat the words from the volumes he so loved. My fantasy may have been worse than Greenaway's reality.) But I do know, that in this scene, Helen Mirren's character said, "What good are these books? You can't eat them."
Here was disrespect for man, words and literature. Here was a scene sobereft of humanity, much in the same way those Tapes respected neither word nor story. Where the Greenaway film was complex and layered, the Tapes had an obscene reductionism. The number was the parameter, not the taste. I felt I was being smothered by points.
I have no trouble with someone marketing themselves or making money, I do question Suckling's judgment for using social media. The crowd just doesn't seem to be his audience. He was slammed immediately for shamelessness, ego. He was cited for being as out of step with current wine trends and assuming a 'natural wine' was no longer for Birkenstock wearing hippies. People in 17th century France were guillotined for similar points of view. Social Media can also be brutal with its rapid lifecycle from Hero to Haman.
While Suckling innocently sauntered into a world he didn't belong, none are immune to the lifecycle and pettiness of Blogging and Tweeting where wings of both angels and dragonflies can be ripped off from the the scapulae. Applause is as common as jeers. Sometimes the bullies swarm; mean boys and girls drive their peers to thoughts of suicide. It's easy to see how the young and the weak, or merely the weak, can be provoked to self-destruct. I am not immune.
A good and famous friend once counseled me that I should never read what is written about me. He was right and I imagine Mr. Suckling will not read the Heimoff Blog. But what happens when the hate gets posted on Twitter or even in your mail box?
Over the past few days I have had pieces of hate arrive through email, through Twitter and to my face. I did not have the option of not reading. But it sure made me think hard about human nature and how modern technology is helping to feed the baser emotions.
How people see themselves as opposed to the reality is the stuff of both depression and therapy. I have no idea how Suckling views himself, perhaps a rock star, perhaps a wine 'expert.' While people view me as some sort of natural wine something (fill in the blank: diva, princess, high priestess) those are media's terms for me, not mine.
Creating a sentence and not an image or even a wine message is what gets me up in the morning. Unfortunately, no therapist to date has been able to wean my ego away from its obsession of syntax; not color, structure and aroma. True, wine is the majority subject and it fascinates me and I do love writing about it as cultural, philosophical and political metaphor, and the ones that I love, sure do taste good to me. So I fold these two obsessions into this complex tango.
I use is my tools and platforms to support my stories and the little guy, the under dog, the person and the wines and stories that I think need to be told. Vin nature is one of them, I am not a one trick pony and my stories don't come with a number.
This weekend, Leonard Bernstein's picture arrived in the New York Times.
I tore it out and pegged it with a slender needle to my book shelves, above my computer. Lenny is speaking to me.
Look at his focus. The coaxing look in his eye, the tension across the shoulder, the grip on his baton, the curl in his pinkie; every bit of his energy is going into the orchestra to squeeze out the sound he wants. Everything. There is no room for hatred, there is no room for anything but the music, there's no room for the audience. He is there with his art and with the art. That is it. That is beauty. That is brilliance. In that moment there is no room for pettiness. There is wisdom in this image. I will try to listen.
If there's justice, which is dubious, one day Albariño will have its soul and nature returned to it, and will cease to be this plump mouthed injectable creation it has become.
A similar body-snatching happened with Beaujolais when wine writers (many who should know better) started to perpetuate the myth that the grapes natural characteristics included banana aromatics. So, many will be just as gullible to continue to propel this fallacy into the future unless we all stomp our feet and say, no no no!
Here's the bit of a press release that put me in a holiday snit.
"Albariño has a unique flavor and a natural acidity (SO MUCH THAT MOST IMPLEMENT ACID REDUCTION) with a clean finish. The wine is often described as expressive, with peach and apricot notes, or crisp and refreshing, with intense fruit flavors, such as green apples and lemon zest. Albariño complements a variety of party favorites, such as bruschetta, baked brie (WHEN IS THE LAST TIME YOU HAD A BAKED BRIE?), soups and chowders, ham, fruit cake, (FRUIT CAKE?? SWEETS? WHAT? THIS IS SOMEONE'S IDEA OF A BAD JOKE FOR WINE/FOOD PAIRINGS?) tarts and apple crisp.
About Albariño from Spain Albariño (al-ba-ree-nyo) is a white grape varietal grown in the D.O. (Denomination of Origin) of Rías Baixas, located in Galicia on Spain's Northwest coast. Accounting for 90 percent of all plantings in Rías Baixas, Albariño wine has been likened to a Riesling for its minerality and bracing acidity; to a Viognier, because of its fleshiness (FLESHY? HOW MUCH GUM ARABIC IS GOING INTO YOUR ALBARINO?)and peach/apricot character.
What do I think Albarino is? High acid, lemon pith and peel and some orange, some times some green almond and sometimes a touch of cream. The nose is compelling, I stretch up on my toes for some descriptors, but the best I can do is spring right before zero summer.
2006 Albarino Pago de Bemil: round, deep, honey, acidity out of yummy control, salty.
2007 Albarino Pago de Xoan: more acid freaky stuff with wool and lemon, a little closed but still sings.
*PEDRALONGA (between $30-$80)
2007 Albarno Barrica-acid sneaks up on you and wraps around the estony meyer lemon.
2005 Vendetta: You might faint at the sight of the bottle price but these Vendettas are serious business and almost like a vendetta against the crap albarinos out there as if to say, fuck you guys. This is important. Listen up. The honey suckle here is what gets me.
2006 Vendetta: I have a slight preference for the 06, seems to have more depth with a touch of hazel nut, lower aromatics yet increased layers of complexity.
A few months ago, noodling around, I came across something called Mod Gamay, made in Australia from the Chris Ringland operation. This wine, with it's bold copy and flashy visuals, seems to have been removed from the net, gave homage to 'the father of Natural Wines, Jules Chauvet.'
When an obscure scientist/vigneron becomes a buzzword for marketing, you know there is a body of work in trouble.
I did a little investigation and found out that while the MOD grapes are conventionally farmed from not so old fruit, and while it is naturally yeasted it is indeed acidified and I just had the feeling that Saint Jules would be rolling in his grave if he knew his names was thus invoked.
The new wines, vins libre, au naturel or live or real or naked, are in the mainstream, and that means buyer beware. The rule? If there's 'natural' on the label, a knee jerk reaction is forming--to avoid. But even then, one has to be smart about what to avoid, for example, if it's the NPA, that is one to drink. You just have to learn to suss out the true ones, read between the lines. That sort of thing.
Which brings me to my Google Alert and ......
Vintae!
It's an art directed operation. We've seen it before. Oriel and the like. A company creates a brand. They pretend it has a person and soul. It often works, especially with two searching eyes of a handsome boy peering from the label or old, veiny, wizened hands, fresh with vineyard dirt.
Two enthusiastic Perez brothers are heading up this project. I met them in 2009 when I was presenting in Rioja. They were so sweet and earnest, and why they wanted me to taste their wine, I do not know.
I held my tongue until now, I didn't want to tell the world how happy they were about this yeasted commercial Moscatel that they make in Rioja. I believe they have their own DO for this which makes me wonder who their father is in bed with.
I hated them, the wines, I mean. It was easy to like the young men. But the wines? The hatred reached some sweet profundity. Obviously they hit a nerve, and it wasn't pretty.
Now you might love them, and that's fine, drink them, buy them, guzzle them as much as their 90 + score indicates you should, and feel guilt-free about it. But besides the wines, monolithic turn offs, the marketing with earnest men, farmers provoked a gag. Rugged hands on the label and soulful eyes, just wrenching the grapes from their stalk by sheer emotion, yes, those boys made a line of wines. And their marketing is just going to make you cry. I'm repeating myself. You get the point.
So, on the WineWench.comWe have these words.
...perfectly defines an initiative that connects the oriental culture and its care of the natural world with the most ADVANCED TECHNIQUES OF BIODYNAMIC AGRICULTURE OF THE RURAL EUROPEAN ZONES. All of its wines are NATURAL, in so far as its vineyards are cultivated in a form that is completely ecological, avoiding any use of chemical or synthetic herbicides, insecticides, and fungicides. Matsu represents the ESSENCE OF NATURAL WINE, and its elaboration constitutes of a process that demands one to "wait" during the cycle that permits the achievement of its final equilibrium.
I see, this is why there are those advocating a dismissal of the world 'natural.' But any word is going to be co-opted. Nothing is sacred.
Anyway, have a look at the site. I'm going to drink some over-sulfured riesling right now, and I'm going to enjoy it too. You see? I am open-minded.
My articles are usually warehoused in the articles section, but I though this one on Leafroll Virus in the vineyards of California was worth taking up space here. New story in the San Francisco Chronicle.
Leafroll: A quiet threat in the vineyard. You can click on this link right over HERE, and see the photos, or you can just scroll down.
It's not imagined. The blood-red leaves in California's vineyards are appearing earlier and spreading more widely. While pleasing to the eye, the colors indicate a shutting down of photosynthesis, often dangerously close to harvest. They can also be a signal for a virus that's giving the wine industry a migraine. The grape leafroll virus has been around and causing trouble for at least a century. It has about 10 variations. But the newest, V3 and V5, are causing panic, with some vineyard owners ripping out vines or blasting them with chemicals. "If I'm going to believe what I hear, it's going to be the next phylloxera," says Stuart Smith, owner of Smith-Madrone in St. Helena. "Worried? You bet." The virus is also affecting vines on the East Coast and in South Africa and New Zealand, and was the topic of an international conference at UC Davis in 2008. Like that other scourge, the European grapevine moth, lots of farmers have it. But if they are willing to discuss the moth, they are often fearful to fess up to the virus. Unlike some other afflictions, this virus won't kill the vineyard, but it will greatly affect the quality of grapes by preventing normal sugar development and greatly reducing yields. But not everyone views those effects as detrimental. Lower sugars were more acceptable 15 years ago, but now they conflict with today's bigger style of wine. "The virus causes a lack of (the) maturity that most of today's winemakers are looking for," says Paul Jackson, owner of Colinas Farming Co., which farms for such Napa Valley wineries as Grgich Hills, Round Pond and Frank Family. Hesitant to talk And why are those afflicted so hesitant to talk? "It is probably because they are fearful that their vineyard will be perceived as having inferior fruit and lose sales," says Dave Whitmer, Napa County agriculture commissioner. But speak to farmers and the situation becomes more complex. Where many see no option but to learn to live with the virus, others have immediately yanked out vineyards and replanted, only to have the virus reappear. The spread of these variants of leafroll was noticed in 2002 in the famed To Kalon vineyard. The late Ed Weber, Napa County's previous viticulture farm adviser, and Deborah Golino, director of Foundation Plant Services at UC Davis, began a four-year study of the phenomenon. During the study, there was a threefold increase in the number of infections in that vineyard alone. Oakville is still one of the hardest-hit areas. The study was disturbing. Previously, this virus was believed to be transmitted by grafting infected budwood in vineyards, which is why many farmers were terrified of using field cuttings instead of buying certified plant material from Foundation Plant Services. But it turns out that's not the only way the virus is transmitted. While grafting is one way - and cleaning up the virus in the vine is Golino's focus - the major spreader is the vine mealybug, which is native to Mediterranean countries. Golino says it probably arrived on lowly table-grape vines smuggled in from Israel to Southern California. Unhappy with that sandy soil, the bug moved steadily north. It tends to breed more quickly than other mealybugs and gets carried around by wind, vineyard machinery and vineyard workers. The pests do double damage: As they suck on a vine, they excrete a sticky substance called honeydew, leaving a tacky, candlelike wax on grape bunches, ruining them; as they feed on new vines, they pass along the virus. Yet there are those who happily live with the virus. These folks seem to have found a working mix of good farming and the right rootstock. Vines on their own roots, those on an old type known as St. George, or even phylloxera-prone AxR1, might carry GLRaV3 and 5, but don't seem to show a major impact. Vineyard manager Frank Leeds, who farms Frog's Leap in Rutherford, was working on a 20-year-old plot of Cabernet Franc that needed replanting because of rabbit damage. "I couldn't get St. George, so I got something called Freedom," he says. "I planted the same budwood on the root, and after four years those vines were showing virus, yet not in any of the other vineyards." Cathy Corison's Kronos vineyard in St. Helena has organic methods and solid, old rootstock going for it. Kronos is planted on St. George, which is one of California's old drought-resistant rootstocks. At 40 years old, the rubrum-colored leaves indicate that the virus is present, but Corison doesn't care. "Few people would tolerate the yields I get off the vineyard," she acknowledges, "but I love the flavor from those grapes." The virus seems to prevent her grapes from maturing too fast and getting too sugary, exactly what she wants. Tony Coturri, a longtime organic wine grower and winemaker, almost has a response of "What virus?" even though it exists in the Hanzell vineyard in Sonoma, which he helps farm. "We just have to live with it," he says. "Sometimes the weaker plants bring a complexity to the wine." He considers clean vine material too simple to make good wine. Controlling the situation with chemicals isn't a solution, warns Kent Daane, an entomologist at UC Berkeley. Daane found that spraying, which some fearful vineyard owners had done, was not effective because the bugs hide under the leaves. Solution A better solution, he says, is a new $54,000 pheromone mating-disruption program, funded by Napa County. Plastic packets measuring 2 by 3 inches impregnated with pheromones hung in vineyards in Napa and St. Helena. The idea: Keep the mealybug population down and avoid the spread of the virus, allowing young plants to grow large enough to fend off infection. Golino is adamant that growers must purchase new certified vines - "even when it means giving up field selections that have been a longtime part of a winemaking program" - in order to reduce the virus' impact. But even that won't eliminate it. "There is not going to be a fast fix," she says. Susceptible to infection And certified vines are susceptible to infection, too. Sebastopol consultant James A. Stamp is often called in as an expert witness when vineyards have taken nurseries to court for buying certified clones that came up positive for the virus. Stamp notes that the desire to keep the complexity of virused vines has led to some unusual farming notions. "We joked about the idea to clean up the vines and then add viruses back in, to add back the potential for complexity," he says. "It would have been a little bit like having unsafe sex." Curiously, organic and biodynamic growers haven't necessarily witnessed the same dangers. Grgich Hills has 25 biodynamically farmed acres in Yountville, adjacent to an afflicted Dominus vineyard. In 2001, Grgich saw the spread of red leaves into its vineyard. The fruit couldn't top 23 Brix, a measure of sugar. In 2003, they started biodynamic conversion. "We saw red leaf slow down and our ripeness increase," says winemaker Ivo Jermaz. "In fact, since going biodynamic, we have to watch so the grapes don't get too ripe." Monica Cooper, Napa County's viticulture farm adviser, couldn't comment on the impact of farming choices, though scientists like Daane suggest organic farming might help. Research in this area has been poorly funded, even though circumstantial evidence shows that organically farmed environments might have natural predators for the mealy bug. "We don't see the problem in our organic vineyards as we do in our conventional," says Jackson, who farms using a variety of protocols. "But I'm not prepared to say that's the reason." Viticultural consultant Steve Matthiasson, who consults for Napa's Araujo Estate, among others, is not alone when he jokes that less color, flavor, alcohol and ripeness might be blessings in disguise. This reaction raises Golino's ire. "I would love to see California produce less alcoholic wines," she says. "But virus isn't the way to do it."
I broke down. It's been a hell of a day writing a story I DO NOT WANT TO WRITE. In fact I tried to convince my editor, "Please, kill the story!"
No such luck.
So I gave in and pulled out the bottle in the fridge the ringletted wine importer Jenny Lefcourt brought over last night. La Boheme,
a declassified muscadet from Marc Pesnot. 2008. Perfect for this weather. A hint of pineapple on the nose that melts to stone.
Then I turned over the label. Who needs a definition for the category of wines so far known as Natural Wine when you have this? Brilliant.
The story is still there. Staring at me like a pit bull ready to tear my brain out, but at least there is melon, and hope. Maybe.
I couldn't wait to get rid of my speech at the Ecosostenible Conference in the Penedes. I obsess about these things. I want to be perfect, to be funny, to have just the right touch of light and gravitas. In other words, until the presentation was over I was a basketcase. But I gave it. I said sustainable was meaningless and I didn't understand why the concept in wine even exists. I said other things, like I ragged on the attachment to Round Up, and the shame that an industry I'm close to cultivates the image of being close to nature while plumping up a wine with additives and process. I don't what else. I have to reread the speech, but at the Q&A a gentleman in the second row asked a question. He is writing a guide, he said... and why are the organic and biodynamic wines not as good as the conventional wines? I had no idea who he was. And I took the approach of I'd have to see what he was tasting and what his palate was like, I had the feeling he had a very different one than mine. I then went ahead and tried to explain terroir to him. Turns out.........he was Penin of the Penin Guide to Spanish Wine Who scripted that scene? There were some very excellent speakers during the few days. Such as Peter Hans Schmidt who has been researching biochar. His studies of how sprinkling the substance through the vineyard can impact water retention might have profound effect on lessening the dependence on irrigation. Then there was the stunningly slick presentation on Assessing Sustainability with Eco-Efficiency Analysis from one of the conference's sponsor's BASF, the company that brought us the new transgenic potato.
Mr. Mario Manaresi put forth his thesis that an apple out of season was more eco-minded than an apple in season. Ooof--the manipulation of carbon footprint for the companies greater good. He hit tremendously false notes with the audience as the hands shot up in attack, tempered with some politesse, as, after all, the company is a major EcoSostenible contributor.
Amongst other news was, well, it's not new, but another example of the way the EU seems intent on messing over the beauty of European wine. This time it's the definition of organic and the desire to eliminate a two-level certification, one for wine made from organic grapes and another for organic wine.
Enric Barta gave the report. All of the sudden I stopped emailing and started to take notes. The suited man next to me started to wiggle his jowls, angry but for a different reason. I raised my hand: "Do you mean that there really will no longer be a separate category for wines MADE with organic grapes?
My neighbor was outraged because his company could source organic grapes and get part of the market but did they want to invest in a whole other set of organic ingredients? This would be like having to have both a meat and a dairy sink. But what got me all on the edge of my seat was the allowance of any addition as long as the additive is 'organic.' So allowed in 'organic' wine would be" micro ox, reverse osmosis, and just about anything else including gum arabic and mega-purple. In other words, the new organic wine would be only organic by ingredient and not by soul. This seemed ultimately unfair and malicious. For once, I was on the side of big business. The guy next to me who works for one of the biggest commercial wineries in Spain almost blew his jugular out. The next day all was well for the moment as just like the rose folly of last year-the EU retreated. And the official comment from IFOAM was Commission withdraws draft proposals on organic wine EU Commissioner for Agriculture & Rural Development Dacian Ciolos has today withdrawn the draft proposal to introduce rules for the production of organic wine. Organic wine was meant to be a new concept, as wine has so far been excluded from the EU organic regulation. Processed wine from organic grapes has been marketed as 'wine from grapes from organic cultivation'. The draft has been under discussion for several months within the Standing Committee on Organic Foodstuffs - and in a number of bilateral meetings - but it has not been possible to find a credible compromise which respects organic standards. Speaking this morning, Commissioner Ciolos stated: 'It is clear that conditions for such new rules are not right in a majority of member states. I am not willing to compromise on organic standards because it sends the wrong signal to consumers on the importance we attach to quality policy. Our hope would be that the industry and research can make progress, and the Commission can come back to these proposals in future.' Based on an independent study (Orwine), the draft proposals sought a number of changes, including: · A lower limit for sulphites than in conventional wine; · A smaller list of permitted additives and processing aids than in conventional wine; · Not permitting 5 oenological practices, and restricting the use of 3 others N.B. The rules for 'wine produced from organic grapes' continue to apply. With a great big sigh, I gave my presentation on how important sustainable wine was to the consumer, my message? What, are you joking? And with that, I went off to visit another entirely different world of beauty.
Last week's visit to Morgon with Eric Texier seemed a long, long time ago when I walked into a 2009 tasting of the Beaujolais on Rue Rivoli yesterday afternoon.
The promoters called it Fabuleux Beaujolais 2009, a tasting through all of the crus. A great opportunity, in theory.
Beaujolais. There are so many good ones. The region complains that they cannot get a foothold amongst drinkers but can't they see that the ones that are acclaimed like those from Lapierre, Chanudet & Foillard, Breton, Thevenet, Lapalu, J-P Brun, Coquelet, L&C Desvignes, de la Roilette, G. Descombes, and Ducroux, have no trouble selling? Why instead do they follow the espoofers instead of the true?
So I walked into the hotel, through the lobby, picked up a glass and gave a nod of hello to the elegant M. Dubouef (in a dove grey suit) I had a go at it.
Now, the 2009 Beaujo is being as heralded as the 2009 Bordeaux and both have the same problem as most of the country did in that year: high pH and low acidity = unstability and plenty of adjustment.
Not to say that there aren't a heck of a lot of lovely wines out there, but it is certainly a year to be dedicated to your favorite producers who picked at the best time and didn't make wine according to recipe. But yet---it's the vintage of two -centuries---right?
I was assaulted with (wine and after wine) thermo-vinification, banana and bubblegum aromas, and a nuclear burning in my mouth. Acidification is out of control in 2009.
Burn, baby, burn, I heard myself thinking and headed off looking for an ice cube..when
to my surprise, over at the Morgon table, I saw Mathieu Lapierre, the son of Marcel (who's wife just fed Eric and me some plump white asparagus the week before).
"What ever are you doing in this company!" I said as I gave him two kisses.
He explained, slyly, as he poured me some of the '09, that the day was the 21st, and as it was the night where all of France was lit up with street music, he wanted to be in Paris. "A good excuse," he said.
His excuse was my salvation. The wine (which was not the unsulfured cuvee) was filled with baby powder and crushed roses. Yes, an '09 in heft, but Lapierre in elegance.
That night I too headed out into the street to listen to music. It was Paris in all its glow and a 1l2 moon over the Seine. I aimed for the left bank, where the assortment of jazz, vintage, or voices raising up to the stars on blocked off streets, changed with every few steps. The feeling was joyous and innocent, sexual and raunchy. A perfect little nicoise on Rue de Seine at Poisson (creamy walnut-sized quail's eggs, marinated anchois) some young students traveling before they took on the world and presumed adulthood, and for the moment, the burn of the sad wines of '09 left, washed down by some enlivened, unacidified Pascal Franck bubbles and a fierce walk back to the 8th.
What is fascinating to me about this particular (still entrenched in punk-ism) winemaker-- other than my joke that I never grew out of my bad boy phase?
Because the story behind drive is compelling. This man from Prague read Baudelaire and ended up in the south of France. He fell in love, drank Bordeaux left and came back, went to enoschool, met a few men who had a natural sensibility Andrea didn't know he shared.
His brush with the band in Morgon changed his attitude about wine and wine life. Which lead him to farming, winemaking, growing slowly (his first vintage was 2007) and being very closed about his winemaking techniques.
Calek, too, gives me the, "It's not me, it's the terroir," bullshit. But he knows he's giving bullshit, and that makes it charming. Perhaps it's what comes of growing up in Communism, you learn to be secret, but not without a fierce sense of irony.
He has something else. Talent. Spirit. The touch. So far at least. He is a thinker and he doesn't need someone else's opinion. When talk about technique he admits to carbonic--no pigeage, no remontage. Just wine.
Why? I ask.
I'm lazy, he says.
You don't use sulfur?
As a rule, no. But if a wine needs it, I use it.
He claims to pray, but he doesn't believe in dogma, even with sulfur. He won't go to hell, he knows that for sure. The Sulfatata won't come and knock on his door. I ask his definition of natural wine, he shrugs, he says in his edged Czeched english, 'nothing added, nothing taken away."
Hmm..has he been reading my blog? Is he playing to me --but no, I think, he means it. He goes on, it's an ideal, a philosophy, it's not always attainable. There was one year he should have added sulfur, a teensie bit would have saved the cuve from the dumpster.
I take a break and go to the toilet.
The prettiest w/c I've used in a long time.
After having my moment with guilt-- how horrible it was to leave my tissue behind-- I mean, I was traveling with one pair of jeans for three weeks --and there was no way I was going to risk a dribble. Saved by pragmatism, (Pragmatism, in William James' eyes, was that the truth of an idea needed to be tested to prove its validity. ) I buried it next to a gorgeous blue flower and then returned to the plastic table, and tasted some wines.
(no tasting note)
Chatons de Gardes. It's syrah, puppy breath, sappy with ligaments with threads of patchouli. I like it.
Punk Czech: this is his homage to Domaine Peyra--it's an early wine, red wine released less than a year after harvest and it is just that--vin de soig and made from syrah and blue portuguese and...grenache? This is more like Pfifferling meets Perya, very fruit forward, cinnamon.
The 2007 Blonde? He didn't think it would have any fizz left, but it did. "That vintage was a mistake," he said. But when 2008 came around, he made sure the bubbles were on purpose.
We passed by the pile of beer and headed to dinner.
I'm hunting the Leon Trotskys, the Philip Roths, the Chaucers and the Edith Whartons of the wine world. I want them natural and most of all, I want them to speak the truth even if we argue. With this messiah thing going on, I'm trying to swell the ranks of those who crave the differences in each vintage, celebrate nuance and desire wines that make them think, laugh, and feel. Welcome.
And, if you'd like a signed copy of either THE BATTLE FOR WINE AND LOVE OR HOW I SAVED THE WORLD FROM PARKERIZATION or NAKED WINE, feel free to contact me directly.
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