I think of wine as sort of the last true thing. It’s so utterly simple, and anyone who loves wine knows how transformative it is. I’ve always been attracted by that almost archetypal pull of wine. I like that idea philosophically and emotionally, and I like the mystery of it.
– Karen MacNeil, author of The Wine Bible
Forbes contributor Cathy Huyghe interviewed MacNeil about how she wrote and now revised her 14-year-old book, which is an impressive encyclopedia of the wine world. It’s an interesting look into
Given the general public’s recent infatuation with the profession, it’s safe to say we’ve officially transitioned from the age of the stuffy sommelier to that of the casually hip “somm.” An exchange that once involved a highly formalized set of rituals (pour for the man to taste first, never leave the bottle on the table) now takes place amid the blare of rock music in wine-centric restaurants like Manhattan’s Pearl & Ash or Racines NY, where rather than wax poetic about Latour or Lafite, your somm will likely evangelize about the sherry renaissance or recommend some offbeat natural wine from the Loire.
It’s a great summary of the renaissance happening in the wine world. And it’s certainly the energy I’ve been feeding off of in my own discoveries these past few years. But I have to wonder if Zachary Sussman is suggesting that the less “stuffy” and more “casually hip” state of the industry is a reason for the rise in more women entering the field? It’s probably made it easier. But even if being a sommelier was still quite a formal profession – in today’s modern environment – would a lot of woman still be shut out?
I don’t have an answer. Just something to think about.
If I don’t have rosé in my glass this summer, and you spy me sipping something white, it’s probably the Sandlands Chenin Blanc. That’s why I was thrilled to see Eric Asimov’s column today and the nice mention and quote from Sandlands owner/winemaker Tegan Passalacqua.
I’m still getting to know the grape and reading Asimov’s story gave me a great introduction while also talking about its resurgence here in the U.S.
Chenin blanc, the white grape of the central Loire Valley, is one of those grapes achieving new life in the United States. Once widely planted in California, it had largely disappeared from fine wine regions by 2000. In the last few years, though, at least a dozen California producers have started making chenin blancs, joining a handful who never stopped, along with producers in Oregon and New York.
Because of its great acidity, chenin blanc is a grape able to make wines bone dry or unctuously sweet yet fresh, with an entire spectrum in between. It has the ability to transparently display its place of origin, to age for decades and to tantalize not just with complex aromas and flavors but with a seemingly paradoxical texture that can be thick yet delicate, rich yet light.
Most of what I’ve learned in the past year has come from the advocacy of Pascaline Lepeltier, the wine director at Rouge Tomate in New York, who gets a nice shout-out at the end of the column. It’s exciting to see that she’s working on her own project:
She has her own chenin blanc project: a plan to plant a few vines in the Finger Lakes of New York in partnership with Bloomer Creek Vineyard.
When I took WSET claseses late last year, one of my goals was to finally learn how to communicate more effectively about wine. And while I certainly advanced my knowledge, I realized I still had a long way to go. So, it’s a nice validation to see The New Yorkertackle this topic.
Click on the link at the top of this post (or just click here) to read what I wrote to our NPR readers about the piece.
I really enjoy introducing more people to wine-related ideas and information, so I’m a wee-bit giddy I expanded my reach this afternoon.
It’s more back-and-forth pointed mostly at the In Pursuit of Balance (IPOB) movement. But I found it interesting because it provides insight into Sean Thackrey’s out-spoken personality.
In Down with Wine Dogma, Thackrey calls adhering to certain rules, like creating lower-alcoholic wines, a fad similar to what you find in the fashion world. He writes:
So what’s the point of dogma in all this? Since no one disputes that excellent wine can be made from grapes comparatively lower in sugar, what is the point of arguing that this is so, when no one argues the contrary? Methinks someone’s marketing guru doth protest too much.
If what you’re making really is all that delicious, there’s no need to demonstrate the limitations of your palate by claiming that all wines made with one or two percent more alcohol content are undrinkable; this is too perfectly stupid for comment. Pour what you’ve actually made as wine, so that we can all see how it—rather than your PR bling (i.e., we’re all about subtlety and intellectual complexity and general all-around Frenchness)—actually tastes in the glass.
Food & Wine also published a Q&A with Thackrey where Ray Isle asked him specifically about his descriptive wine label:
You’re not a guy who’s short on opinions. The label on your red wine Pleiades says that its purpose is to “delight the jaded and irritate the Wine Police…” Who are the “wine police”?
Anyone who puts restrictions on what you’re supposed to be able to enjoy. Like the idea that if a wine is 15 percent alcohol, it’s undrinkable—it’s hot, overextracted, raw, a fruit bomb, doesn’t show any subtlety, isn’t French and so on. Give me a break! Just taste it first, OK? People with those kinds of absolute preconceptions, they’re part of the wine police.
What it all comes down to – on both sides of the IPOB-debate – is making good wine that people want to enjoy. But how do you get your brand out there ahead of the others? The IPOB winemakers are using each other to propel their wines, while Thackrey is using his blunt label-writing, his non-conformist attitudes and his opportunity to have his story told in Food & Wine. They’re both marketing methods, right?!
For a bit more about Sean Thackrey, I discovered this short video while Googling.
There’s no question that wine (or any bit of alcohol) is a wonderful (although not always healthy) way to de-stress. But after spending 30 days with the Headspace app and learning the basics of how and why to meditate – as well as a new understanding on meditation’s effects on the brain – it’s a no-brainer (pun intended) to understand the similarities between a serious wine drinker sipping their favorite juice and a meditator taking a break from a busy day.
(And, no! I am not writing this as a justification to use wine instead of meditation – just showing the parallels – and *maybe* suggesting that in cooperation, the two practices could lead to *some* extra mental well-being.)*
A mindful practice means focusing on the present. To do that, you have to engage many of your senses – feeling, hearing, smelling – on what’s happening in That. Very. Moment. By doing so, your senses awaken, and in the case of what this app teaches – it lets you have a little more “headspace” so you can have a clearer, calmer and hopefully happier mind.
What I’ve realized is that drinking wine can do the exact same thing – even before the alcohol gets into the bloodstream and provides that temporary chemical escape:
Swirling – noticing the color and the weight of the wine.
Sniffing – inhaling the nuances of aromas that emanate from the glass.
Tasting – identifying the flavors and feeling for the acid and tannins that jump around your tongue.
When you’re doing those things, you’re completely focused on something that’s only purpose is for pure enjoyment. There’s nothing else to think or fret about. It creates a peaceful mind, and with homage to Billy Joel, let’s youforget about life for a while. Ommmm.
*Disclaimer – I have absolutely no medical, health or wellness training. I’m just a girl, trying to put all the pieces together and find some happiness.
Last year, the majority of the rosé I ingested came from Red Car. The Sonoma Coast winery best known for their Pinot Noir makes an elegant and crisp quaffer that goes down incredibly easy on a hot summer day (or at an IPOB tasting). I finished every last bottle I had, so in time for a recent BBQ I scoured the Internet in search of some more. I purchased a few 2014s from a New York store and was very happy. A few days after the event, a friend found some 2013s at a local D.C. wine shop. And this past Saturday, we put them together for a side-by-side comparison.
Conclusions were pretty simple: 2013 was refreshing and light and included some yeasty notes (a flaw? part of the aging?) but had lost some of it’s fruit (which isn’t necessarily a bad thing). 2014 was also refreshing, and had some good tart notes with a bit more body.
So my amateur assessment is there’s no reason to keep these bottles around past their seasons. That’s a good thing – because at least in my house – those bottles won’t stay very long. But if one happens to get lost in the fridge and reappears the following year – enjoy the surprise!
Editing to add:a nice little response from Red Car! Thanks for taking a look and weighing in!
Definitely not a wine designed to cellar. Drink up before the release of the next vintage. Glad that the '13 is still palatable @itswinebyme
If you don’t know about Maureen Downey, you should. Often called the “wine detective,” she’s a leading authority on wine fraud. I won’t go into too much detail here because you should just read this piece. It nicely weaves together an update on the French Laundry wine heist with a profile of Downey’s expertise.
A few iPhone pics from last weekend’s Spring #lambfest, cook-out and wine bash (be sure to scroll to the right – and yes, the picture above is beef, not lamb). Highlights included:
A cooler of bubbles with the super quaffable Ultramarine rosé, a 2005Gaston Chiquet Special Club Brut Champagne Blend, and the Jacques Selosse Initial Grand Cru Brut Blanc de Blancs. (The Jacques Selosse was the first pour in my glass as I walked out onto the deck and it stopped me in my tracks).
Food included lamb shoulder (not pictured) and New York strip steaks, a smoked mushroom polenta and for dessert an English pea cake with fresh pea shoots to garnish. There was also an amazing baked dish consisting of morels, fiddleheads and asparagus: the combination of crisp veggies surrounded by lusciousness felt like a mix of springtime and a warm blanket for your soul (and no, I’m not exaggerating).
There were significantly more wines than what’s amassed in these photos. I brought my favorite Red Car rosé, which while perfect for this hot summer-like day, was incredibly pedestrian compared to the 1988Chateau Latour that graced our meal. Later in the evening, I sampled both a Hervé
Souhaut Le Cessieux (pleasantly photobombing this 2004 Cornerstone Howell Mountain Cabernet) and the cab. My palate much prefers the Souhaut, but was too compromised by this point in the evening to allow me to fully appreciate one of my favorite producers.
Good times, good food, but more importantly good people – this is what life is all about!
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