It was one of those impromptu BBQ’s that required antipasto while the hamburger thawed. A trip to the olive bar at Safeway with a 4 year old dressed as Optimus Prime (BTW I’m Optimus Momma) coerced by the promise of aisles of Halloween candy fondling was in order.
As I was buying my cheap wine selections for the evening and rounding the deli counter to get to the olive bar, an ice bucket with bottles of wine and a kindly man pouring samples left me gobsmacked – what? We can sample wine in CA? Really in a grocery store? Well it’s about time. I was sipping whiskey and scotch at Syrdyk’s in Minneapolis, MN years ago and although it was for the sake of survival from the cold, it was also a smart sales tactic. I would never buy a $60-$120 bottle of liquor without a taste, even with a decent recommendation from a so so friend and I sure as hell wouldn’t leisurely stroll a liquor store (white lie) devoid of purpose only urging me to make that compulsive purchase. This was legislative progress in the Golden State.
Jay, an approachable brand ambassador, welcomed me as I nearly ran him over with my cart due to the speed and velocity of my approach. He was sampling Oyster Bay 2012 Sauvingnon Blanc. He provided the full tasting experience. While sharing the history of the wine, the tasting notes, the story of the company and how the climate of NZ is perfectly suited for Sauvignon Blanc I eagerly sipped about 8 thimblefuls of this delightful vintage.
Oyster Bay takes it’s name from Oyster Bay in Marlborough on the tip of NZ South Island. It is located in the Wairau Valley, truly one of the most recognizable wine growing regions in NZ and the world. The vineyards are perfectly suited to produce Sauv as they are in the cool Maritime coastal regions that have moderately fertile alluvial (loose sediment and silt) soil created from thousands of years of glacial activity. There is also a coastal minerality to the wines due to the naturally occurring sea life and oyster beds.
The nose was not aromatic, but the first sip was crisp, lemony and the acid had a pleasant “cut” that did not sour in the finish – which is so gross – I hate that! But this was well balanced, had a pleasant mouth feel and fresh, flavorful burst with a lovely mineral finish. I also found it surprisingly un-grassy, not like most NZ Sauvs which are well known for this characteristic. Jay explained that was a differentiating factor of this wine. I felt adequately samplified to rate this wine as guest-worthy, and I bought a bottle to serve to my guests to prove it! They were equally impressed with the price, one guest took a picture of the label on her way to the store. You can’t underestimate the power of cheap wine, it is very moving.
Due to the patience of a four year old rumbling like a tectonic plate, I needed to move along to the next aisle. I explained to Jay that matricide via imaginary lasers and a humiliating tantrum was inevitable if my cart didn’t shove off to the “aisle of candy” soon. Optimus was very, very accommodating so it was time to hold up my end of the bargain. Oh, almost forgot to mention, this wine pairs well with candy corn.
I spent this weekend catching up on my catalog of wine movies – Somm, A Year in Burgundy, American Wine Story, many you have all seen or placed in your que. This post by Confessions of a Wine Geek was the perfect post to read after viewing Red Obsession – the film about China driving up the value of Bordeaux wines – specifically Château Lafite Rothschild, of which the prices per case became so absurd it defines the bubble that popped in wine values after the precipice of 2011. (Interesting article on wine values at this link from Business week: A Dismal Bordeaux Vintage Hits the Market – Businessweek via @BW http://buswk.co/IqSRVn) I was regulated to accepting my lot in life to the lower shelves of new world or fleeting dreams of old world if a fancy friend decided to sacrifice a bottle from the cellar. However, this wonderful post was good news and a welcome guide to finding Bordelaise value wines that sound fabulous! Must seek them out maintenant. Merci beaucoup Wine Geek and cheers! Stay curious, Loie
Classed-growth Bordeaux prices have gone bonkers in recent years. It has become prohibitive for many wine lovers and it feels like those with the money are treating these masterpieces as articles of visual art as opposed to a sensation for the nose and taste buds… but maybe I’m just jealous; in fact I know I am.
I have very few bottles from the 1855 classification in my personal collection; there are a handful that I picked up on my trip to the region in the summer of 2013 a couple of others I have picked up over the years when the price has been right. I have gone to other locations to get my fix of Cabernet Sauvignon, whether exploring the New World or the lesser-known satellites of Bordeaux. But sometimes, only the real thing will do.
I recently attended a horizontal tasting of seven wines from the 2004 vintage…
I’ve been eagerly trying to write and submit this entry in this month’s #MWWC12 in spite of the distractions that abound. Work, deadlines, crying babies (not mine, the neighbors, they break my train of thought,) wine club pick-up parties, unexpected houseguests (aka ant infestation,) in-laws, parents, clergy, it’s so darn busy these days trying to make a buck and then you bonk your head “I shoulda written that post for the MWWC!”
But never fear! There isn’t a deadline that a little caffeine, spousal abandonment and chutzpah can’t conquer! Here goes….
The theme: Local. The place: Paris. The era: 2014, during the war on terror, Ebola outbreaks, overly bearded men and babies on iPads.
I’ve just strolled the Jardin des Tuileries adjacent to the Louvre, when I was nearly accosted by a band of gypsy girls asking if I spoke English. “Why yes! I thought you’d never ask!” By the auspices of lady liberté Marianne, a Parisian woman appeared on what looked like her daily stroll. Middle aged, simply chic, a touch snooty, she pulled her Alain Mikli glasses down to the tip of her nose, shook her finger vigorously at me from a distance signaling “Non.”
If it were not for the kind disdain of this local Parisienne, those gypsy kids would be selling my passport on the steps of the Cligoncourt Metro station and using my lip gloss. I grabbed my bag, checked my pockets, downed my glass of park regulation wine (red something I bought at a kiosk) and shooed the gang of nefarious tweens away! Allez! Allez!
Tragedy averted. Merci beaucoup Madame.
As the park was feeling rather tainted with the rouse of wayward youth, I then decided to stroll along the Rue de Rivoli. I was enjoying the crowds of “fashion people” sartorially posturing and desperately being au courant outside the show tents. Emaciated and fabulous, the very sight of them triggered hunger pangs. I had the altruistic need to eat copiously for these people so they can continue to parade along the Rue du Faubourg free of shame for I have taken it upon myself to eat for them. Shop, shop, shop and pile on the bags and bags of luxury labels that you will eagerly tuck away in the trunks of your Bentlys, Aston Martins and Ferraris.
Before you could say “LaDuree Macaron” I was fortunate to land my generous behind on a bench inside a Tabac on Rue St. Honoré. I wanted to have a cigarette. Please don’t hold it against me – I know the dangers, I know the grave impact on others around me, I’ve seen the cancerous lung matter from a corpse of a smoker on the outside of cigarette cartons. For the love of God, I live in CA where you can legally be shackled in the town square, beat with sticks of patchouli incense and fronds of kale while your flogger inhales biodynamic cannibus thought a cruelty free humidifier while eating gluten free brownies – and all that for smoking within 10 meters of a bar, outside – harrowing!
A ciggy and a glass of spirits are made for each other and where better than Spain or Italy can you imbibe+smoke? France! But alas, not inside the tabac – Mon Dieu! All the romance of café societé, writing, drinking and smoking simultaneously was lost in a Hemingwayian Fitzgeraldesque dream as a result of some overzealous legislation by some health nuts – geez I might as well be in San Francisco.
The proprietor of the tabac saw the tears welling up in my eyes, so she consoled me by saying, “Ok, I shall move this table to the street for you where you can smoke, what will you have to drink?” Like a child given a red balloon, I was elated at the thought of acting like a local, sitting at a cafe, drinking, eating and tittering at the fashionistas and ogling the motorcycle boys. Yippee!
Can you guess the nationality? Hint: one of them is a local, the others Italian, Japanese & Americans
I was soon with beer in hand (I enjoy an Amstel light on occasion when not chugging cheap wine or sipping Mezcal) and chomping on crisps, smoking the skinniest cigarettes I’ve ever seen. I smoke “rarely” so I didn’t want to get carried away and get sick in the street with all the other British nationals visiting for the weekend. Those Brits know how to paaaaaar-teeeee! Whooohoooo. (see below, low, low, low)
I had front row at the Rue St. Honoré Spring Summer 2015 fashion show and the constant throng of the world fashion elite and not so elite was barreling down my sidewalk runway past my table urgently to their next show, after party, photo shoot, meet and greet, celebrity sighting. I was perfectly happy snapping pics drinking beer smoking and eating more calories in one sitting than any of then will have for days….I was content.
The sidewalk catwalk:
One cultural benefit to being a lady traveling alone in France is if you are seated by yourself in a respectable establishment someone will feel sorry for you and buy you a drink – possibly a man, woman, child, poodle – it will occur as long as you are humble, amiable, not too dour and semi-pensive. I suspect it is beyond comprehension for the French to see someone eating and drinking alone. It elicits painful, sad emotions with the surrounding patrons – make it stop – buy her a drink and parlons already!
Sure enough, a gentleman swooped by, snatched my iPhone and took pictures of me without my consent but I went with it as he was charming and not a gypsy youth. He then insisted on buying me a beer and chatting to me. His English was as comprehensive as my French, and this led to a quick end to our deep conversation. But I could express my gratitude with “merci beaucoup” and all was good that eve with Franco-American relations – diplomacy at the Tabac – enchanté mes amis!
“Barbie??? What are you doing here? Last time I saw you in 1979 your head was off your naked body in my bath tub and you were an Astronaut running for President. You’re a blogger now for fashion week, gotcha. Well cool, I’ll Tweet you, you Tweet me, I’ll have your agent call my agent we’ll guest post for each other. Ciao!”
My hotel was a few blocks away and I promised to return. The proprietor Cyril and his wife, both young, very attractive, friendly locals, happily welcomed me back and gave me a card. Sadly, my next day was filled with other local adventures and cut short by an early night to catch an even earlier train to Reims. Fortunately for this digital age, I was able to connect with them on Facebook and one day plan on returning to the neighborhood to reclaim my front row seat, glass in hand.
Cyril pours Champgne sans saberingfacebook.com/leJeanNicot – I like them!
Ok – I cheated on this post…teeheehee. I have not tried this wine, but before you get on my case, I got your back – here is the intel so take a swig and calm the “flavor” down! Thank you.
Hear me out. Saturday night I decided to procrastinate about finishing an important presentation for really important people for a Monday deadline. So what did I decide to do unproductively with my time? Peruse Twitter for people to chat-up and indirectly harass. You know my intentions are always Pollyanna-ish, but my enthusiasm can unintentionally insult, frighten or irritate. So I pissed off a retired Post Master General by agreeing with her – uh – yeah (I think it was my not so funny joke about Gwyneth Paltrow and Ted Nugent.) I then had to tweet to the defense of one of my FAVORITE followers @SottileStephen who was bizarrely ensnared in this conversation with the former Post Master – ugliness and then a vulgarity ensued and all of a sudden POW! This post popped up….Gotta go y’all – cheap wine awaits!
When GV says SICK – all caps with a $ afterwards, we got to get it going on people! Who can resist the powers of a GV recommendation with a price less than a cocktail at my local fancy restaurant? Only the crazies.
If any of you have tried this wine – please, please, please let me know. To sweeten the deal and make it EVEN SICKER IN THE HEAD – free shipping from WineLibrary.com to boot! I have no idea for how long but get your crazy-arse online and buy this wine before you drive yourself nuts because you missed the deal.
Here are the truncated notes for your reading pleasure. FYI: it got a 90 from that wild man lunatic “The BobbyP.”—“flavor”yeah!
Score: 90 points from Luis Gutierrez – Robert Parker’s Wine Advocate
Varietal:
Mencia from Spain – a Roman era clone that is identical to Jaen do Dão (or “Jaen” for short) from Portugal. Shares a similar profile to Cabernet Franc – light, with soft tannic flavors and aromas. I suspect it is structured enough to pair well with savory meats such as pork, fowl, some game. Not bold enough for a heavy steak but a beef carpaccio would be an excellent pairing. It’s Spanish so a tapas of jamon y olive tapenade – muy sabroso! But I am only fantasizing – let me know if you get the real deal on your palate.
The Critic’s Tasting Notes:
“The 2010 Envejecido en Roble is aged in both French and American barrels for 8-10 months and spends one year in bottle before being sold. Sometimes these shorter times in barrel result in a less-than-perfect integration of wine and wood, and I must confess I am a little bit biased against this category of wines. Fortunately it is not the case here and the violet notes are perfectly integrated with the cinnamon and vanilla tones from the barrique. The palate is compact, light to medium-bodied, with great length and a spicy, velvety finish. This again represents good value for the category. Drink 2014-2019. ” (08/13)
Interesting Regional Fact:
The winery is located in a restored old dairy in the village of Dehesas in Ponferrada. The remodeled building integrated the stone, slate and wood of the region to align with the Bierzo architectural vernacular and gives the winemaker the purest environment for the creation of this wine.
Made By:
Carlos Garcia is the “bodeguero” or winemaker and the technical director of the winery is Raúl Pérez. They work in a quiet uninterrupted facility that allows them to focus on the beauty and character of the wine as it evolves. Hence it’s proclaimed gorgeousness. Bravo mi amigos por vino están muy interesante y nada mas dinero.¿Verdad? ¡Lo quiero!
Now back to finishing that presentation – but only after one more tweet….
This is the final installment of my wine education trilogy at Blogdramedy. It is a brain dump from my illustrious visit to Champagne, France. Ahhhhh, memories, I hope you enjoy the tiny bubbles of knowlege as much as I did acquiring them. This is a trip one must make at least once in your life, if only to be the envy of all the mothers at your son’s fancy pants nursery school – ha. ha. ha. ha. In all seriousness, it was an incredible trip and one that taught me the true passion, artistry, tradition, and science that makes one of the most celebrated spirits what it has been for centuries. To this day, I marvel at how jealously guarded the brand “Champagne” has been by the region and how incredibly smart of them to be such jerks about it – seriously – they are fully entitled to the name and what it represents. Cross the line and you will be served something other than bubbles. Voila!
It was truly an expensive honor to have the credit card maxxing opportunity to enjoy what this region has to offer. I am now well prepared to get back to the business of reviewing $10+under wines people – for a long, long, long, long time! Bloody hell.
Stay curious,
The Comtesse du Cheapeaux
CHEAP WINE CURIOUS 