Rebel Rose

Ah, faint redemption. With two perpetually hungry men in my household, a halved bagel is a treat one step closer to consumption. I can't stand the blueberry bagels we find in our market. I swear, those are not real blueberries. They are some kind of rejected, inferior raisin permeated with blueberry essence, and when the Kid toasts them, the aroma makes me gag. I tried to stop buying them, but if He only finds real, dense bagels topped with poppy seeds, onion and salt, He's grossed out.

I am a bagel halver. Guilty. And I take the top, with all the seeds and salt and good stuff.

The issue of oak chips, dust, flour, planks, inserts, etc. intrigues me. Mel Knox addressed this briefly during his wine forum appearance. He's the one who calls it 'quercus fragmentus.' Here's an article by wine writer Gerald Boyd in Vineyard & Winery Management on the subject. Hmm. Our winery is not a "heavily financed small production vintner." I often say that we're a microwinery with a microbudget, and yet Dan and I both adhere faithfully to traditional practices in oak, as do other small producers with more talent than funds.

Due to the interest in this thread on oak alternatives, I've started a new thread, Quercus Fragmentus. I have a feeling that will become a lively discussion on its own. Back to cooking with wine . . .

Dang, that's weird! Here's my theory, which is probably completely harebrained. Most capsules have a tiny hole in them to permit them to slide onto the bottle easily during bottling without an annoying cushion of air getting trapped underneath. Wine doesn't necessarily leak out through the hole, though, because it's so small. Has anyone else here had the weird experience of ripping a foil off a bottle and . . . no cork! If the cork had slowly slid into the bottle, air would have been sucked in through the small hole and the foil wouldn't have imploded like that. Therefore, either the cork imploded suddenly, or the foil hole was plugged, or both. So I'm thinking the cork was defective or cracked and gradually deteriorated, soaking wine all the way up to the capsule, where the wine, or even just the alcohol in the wine, gradually evaporated through the little peephole. At some point, due to evaporation, the pressure in the bottle dropped, the cork was suddenly sucked in, and since the foil was sticky with wine residue and the peephole was plugged, the foil ripped inward as well. Schlooop! However this is my favorite theory:

That is a really well written article, and the author does indeed take a few well-aimed and richly deserved jabs at the Health Dept. I know a woman in Washington State who designs and supplies the software that seafood suppliers use to generate the identification tags that are sent with their products. The LADHS is certainly aware of this software as it is used by nearly all west coast seafood suppliers. (If you want to know where your store's clams came from and how fresh they are, you can ask to see the tags. You may have to figure out some of the abbreviations yourself, however.) If Powell really cares about public safety, why didn't he get her contact information, find out if she can adapt the software for mushrooms, and make that information available to mushroom purveyors before his little edict, which has only been partially enforced? In the meantime, he is taking livelihoods away from a few people, and taking mushrooms away from an unharmed public, while allowing others in his fiefdom to operate until he "gets around" to them. Smacks of corruption to me. Although I can't imagine there'd be that much money in mushrooms.

Look for a home on a rocky, wooded bluff or on other land that is not considered arable--in wine country it might be less expensive. A nice large garage or outbuilding with power and water, and you're all set. As Bruce suggested, with our current California grape glut, you can buy great grapes for far less cost and headache than planting a vineyard. Which is a whole 'nother topic. You might also try ferreting out the oldest, semi-retired realtors in these areas. They often know of the old-time, aged people with farms who are on the verge of selling, but haven't listed the property yet. We got our property before the "For Sale" sign went up, and there were three backup offers for more money behind us. (When the sign went up, it said, "For Sale, Sold Quickly" ).

Melkor, I believe you have a personal connection with the WSET that you're not mentioning. I think it would be fascinating to hear more about how the program started, what the initial concept was, and whether or not the program adheres to the original idea or whether it has evolved. I'd also like to know more about what goes into planning a course of wine study like this. Anyone else with me on this?

With the current market splash of inexpensive wines, most are generally fine for cooking, and many excellent for drinking as well. Eminently Drinkable Plonk!, All $10 or less and pretty decent. But you're right about "cooking wine" on the grocer or condiment shelves. Nasty stuff. Generally the guidelines to cook with "a wine you would drink" arise from the misguided idea that when an opened bottle has gone bad that it's still fine to cook with. Yeek. That's basically cooking with vinegar. So open a fresh bottle, whatever the price, and don't forget to pour a glass for the cook!

2001 Eyrie Vineyards Pinot Noir, 13.0%, $20.99 Aromas of barnwood and berry pie, and a thin, tart mouthfeel with flavors of cranberry, strawberry, sage, and tarragon. It seemed a little more interesting after being open for one hour, and went reasonably well with food. For the price, I was disappointed. While I'm not averse to a lighter style of Pinot, I expected more complexity. 2003 O'Reilly Pinot Noir, 13.5%, $14.99 The nose had volatile acidity, wet socks and blackberry, but in a pleasant kind of way. The wine had darker color than the Eyrie, and was super-oaked, with flavors of black cherry, anise, and blackberry jam, with a finish of thyme and marjoram. I'm guessing these grapes were picked very ripe, with a high pH and that the wine is unfiltered. It was almost too big for a true Pinot experience, but for $5 less, it was a much more satisfying experience than the Eyrie. And hey, it's got a dog on the label.

Hi, Ralph. That is a sad story. I think we've all had similar experiences . . . I recently visited my brother and sister-in-law, who like wine but are just getting started and aren't all that experienced with storing it yet. They pulled down a nice California cab blend from the top of the pantry, where it was sitting cork up for who-knows-how-long. It was so hot I suggested we put it in the freezer for a few minutes . . . I gently suggested they needn't open it just for me. I'd be perfectly happy with a glass of their box wine.

"Cabalicious" is indeed my own term for wines that are made from varietals that I feel are interesting on their own--or blended in a way that highlights their strengths--but have instead been blended with cabernet or merlot to make a red wine that is more familiar to a large market. Sangiovese, for instance, is an excellent food wine and I love its distinctive character, but in the US, it is often produced in what I call a "cabalicious" style, to our loss. In the US, a producer can legally blend 25% of any other grape into a wine and still label it as a single varietal. So, you could buy a pinot noir that has 25% zinfandel in it, or 25% cabernet, or 10% zinfandel and 15% cabernet, and you would not know unless the producer chose to reveal those notes on the label or on their website. I'm very happy to see US consumers becoming more adventurous, trying new varietals and blends, and appreciating each for their unique charm and for what they bring to a meal.

All good advice so far. Sometimes the alcohol is a bit much for someone not used to it, as the dryness of most reds. Jeffy's suggestion to start with wines like riesling and beaujolais is a good one. You could also try cutting red wine with a little sparkling water at first. In Europe, children are given a little wine and water at the family evening meal. (Although I would do this at home, so as not to offend your hosts.)

It's a conspiracy promulgated by bugbrains such as myself who don't happen to know what the kitchen's terminology is. I call all kinds of things by the wrong name. Two questions from the owner, instead of over-reacting, and she would have ascertained that the diner meant breading, and that there was a perceived difference in the spice. One of my favorite chefs taught me to call the roasted jalapenos rolled in cornbread "Caca del Gato." Now that's something you don't want to spring on a chef you don't know.

Randi, The appropriate response for an owner/host/chef to a mild complaint is to ask the patron a few polite questions and thank the patron for their input. There's no need to change anything in the kitchen, no need to defend the food or the cooking, and the patron feels gratified that their comments were received with a kind and serious attitude. If the chef and owner care about their customers, they'll discuss the issue. If the chef and owner think the customer is a crackpot, they can make an effigy in the kitchen and attack it with pineapple spears.

It's perfectly all right to break out the aroma kit now. I'm glad it was helpful! A chenin blanc is normally a crisp wine, but it does sound from your description as though this particular release is overly caramelized for its style. This could be the result of the yeasts chosen, too much oak, too much aging, awkward use of oak alternatives (chips and planks placed in barrels or tanks to simulate oak barrel aging), or overexposure to air. Well, that narrows it down, doesn't it? The important thing is that you have determined on your own that the honey character is out of place in this wine and overwhelms its natural fruit character. The thin legs would indicate a lower alcohol content, and/or a lower glycerol content, but that's usually desirable in a delicate white. High alcohols would give a wine like chenin blanc a "hot," unbalanced mouthfeel. The website describes both the '02 and '03 as having grapefruit and tropical flavors, with 'notes' of green pepper. Perhaps the tart acidity is more grapefruit than lemon? In addition, by 2005 a 2000-vintage wine of this style might be getting a little tired and flat. It sounds like a disappointment and not a wine you're likely to buy again, but you might take note of others' comments if you come across them, just in case the wine was too old. A fresher vintage might be more appealing. There's no way to know for sure by tasting, but with practice, you'll begin to guess. A full ML white is very buttery, very distinct in that regard, with a soft mouthfeel and less of that zingy, crisp, fruity acidity that makes a white wine refreshing. A zero ML wine would lack the butter aromas and have a crisp, acidic mouthfeel. A white wine with traces or evident aromas of lactic acid and a crisp yet silky mouthfeel probably contains partial malolactic. Actually, all red wines go through malolactic conversion, because red wines are fermented with their skins and seeds, which produce the hefty tannins and pigments in red wine. Reds would be really, really astringent without a full ML conversion. However, you won't detect the lactic aromas in reds because of the much heavier organoleptic properties in reds. (Organoleptic=involving use of the sense organs=cool addition to your wine vocabulary). A few winemakers claim that an excellent zinfandel will have overtones of apricot, so that's very interesting. I would expect that in a large, affordable production like Alderbrook there may also be additions of cabernet or merlot. Many of these productions are "cut" with a gentler, more familiar varietal to make the wine more "cabalicious," to help it appeal to a broader market base. Excellent review. I haven't tried their mourvedre yet, but after this writeup, I think I'd better!

The best way I have found to really pin down the aroma of lactic is to take 2 to 3 tablespoons of real, unsalted butter and melt it in a small, glass condiment dish (or whatever you have that's similar) in the microwave. Let the butter cool until it begins to harden again near the bottom of the dish, and develops a half-melted, half-grainy texture. Smell the butter and take note of the sharp, milky smell. It's easiest to smell the lactic acid when the butter is warm and half-melted, as opposed to cold or hot. Then return to the white wines and see if you can detect a trace of lactic.

Thank you for sharing! Great notes. Next time I make it up that way I will definitely check this post.

Bruce, let's take this from the ground up! Can you find out for us what type of soil this is? And maybe give us a pit view? Is this site near a hilltop or crest, or in a valley? Are the vines on a disease resistant rootstock or on their own roots? Let's get to know our little buddies before they bud, which will be happening soon with the warm March weather.

I'm referring strictly to glycerol content in my comment, but it's all relative, I'm afraid. The mourvedre is high in alcohol, which would be the primary cause of thicker legs. Use of a glycerol enhancing yeast by the winemaker might also contribute to that, or to the differences between the other two wines, but it would be anyone's guess. However, here is a link to Vinquiry's Fermentation Products page. (Click on "Yeast Strains Carried by Vinquiry" for the Adobe Acrobat file.) If you really want to blow your friends away, you can learn to say something like, "Ah, I see this syrah is very dark and has wonderfully thick legs. Perhaps it was fermented with a Rhone-isolate yeast designed to emphasize raspberries, pepper, cassis and violets while contributing to production of thick, sweet glycerol and polysaccharides, yet stabilizing its royal depth of color and fulfilling its organoleptic development."

Ah hah. Very observant, Smithy! Legs are mainly an indicator of alcohol in wine, which is related to a wine's surface tension. A good scientific explanation of wine tears, or legs. Which means that by observing the legs you can discern if the alcohol listed on the label is reasonably accurate. Since wines are often blended right before bottling, the governmental department that approves labels gives wineries a +/- leeway of 1.5% in either direction. (But sometimes wineries just fib.) However, there is also the issue of glycerol in the wine. Glycerol (sweet minor alcohols) vs. ethanol (happy buzz) can be affected by a winery's choice of yeast. From Applied and Environmental Microbiology: There's a popular misconception that "glycerine" in a wine contributes to the thickness of its legs. However, glycerols are not sugars, but sweet-tasting minor alcohols and a by-product of the fermentation process. The taste threshold is about 5 g/liter. Glycerol levels need to be at 28 g/liter before they are visible, which is generally the range for dessert wines, but I believe it can sometimes be reached in dry wines. Wineries can shoot for a sweeter and thicker mouthfeel by choosing certain yeasts, but truthfully I think most producers would prefer yeasts that emphasize floral, spice, or berry components. There are also yeasts that stabilize color, and yeasts that can survive higher alcohols, which are generally good for zinfandel. Glycerol is often relative to alcohol (ethanol to purists, since glycerol is part of your alcohol experience), so it's interesting that the mourvedre was the highest in alcohol, and it appears to have a high glycerol content. Bottom line: Observing the legs will give you an idea of what to expect when you smell and taste the wine. Exactly! I'm hoping that next fall we will have a semester on food and wine pairing, where we will taste a range of wines, then retaste them after certain "palate experiences" like a squeeze of lemon, or a bite of broccoli, tomato, oil, cheese, or chocolate. It's interesting to retaste a wine after these palate experiences and learn how these sensory changes affect the taste of wine. Lemon, for instance, represents the family of acids, which would include vinaigrettes or acids used in dishes, while oils represent the effect of sauces and meat fats. Learning to anticipate how these foods affect our sensory perception of wine makes it easier (and more fun) to select wines for a particular menu. You can even learn to build a menu that will enhance the enjoyment of a special bottle of wine. You are observing that a strong food can overwhelm delicate and nuanced flavors (or an insipid wine). There's also the phenomenon that tasting a food with a strong flavor that is echoed in the wine "neutralizes" your perception of that flavor. For instance, although I never met Andre Tchelicheff, a friend of his, Bruce Shomler, taught me this exercise which Andre had introduced him to. Bruce poured me a glass of a very young, tannic cabernet franc. I tasted it and the tannins were overpowering. Spicy and astringent. Then he handed me a cigar. (I'm not a cigar smoker, so I had trouble keeping it lit and I felt a little silly, but it was fun.) When I returned to the wine after several puffs on the cigar, the astringency had fallen away. I tasted deep cherry fruit and floral overtones, and the wine seemed rich and elegant. This is an extreme example of competing sensory experiences while sampling wine, but I think you'll find as you experiment with this that you will often choose an entirely different set of descriptors for a wine when tasting it before, then after, food. Generally, an acid will make a wine seem fatter, rounder, sweeter. Oils and fats will emphasize the fruit acids in a wine. Mild spices and peppercorns will make a wine seem fruitier. Of course, it also depends on whether these elements are mild or heavy. Thai food, for instance, can be a tough match with wine! I think you're ready to ask that question in the wine forum!

Guten tag, schneich! I'll admit it's a basic list, and we tried to include just a few names that are in wide distribution in the US and Canada. I agree that German rieslings are wonderful. A few years ago I had a conversation with a young German winemaker who was very charming, but his entire production is sold to the Queen of England.

There are only five basic lessons: *The 10-step Tasting Primer *Evaluating white wine varietals *Evaluating red wine varietals *Separating art and technique from nature *Using the aroma kit The eGCI team will post one lesson a day this week. Next week will be open for everyone who missed a lesson this week to catch up, review, or do further inquiry. You needn't follow the schedule exactly. Depending on your schedule, preferences, and ahem, drinking habits, you may want to space your sampling out over the two weeks, or revisit the wines again on a following night and see if your perceptions have changed. It's also interesting to try the wines on your own at a place and time when you can concentrate solely on your own perceptions, then try them again later with friends. Take your time and really explore the wines, and your relationship to them. If your aroma kit isn't ready until the end of the week, that's fine. Definitely keep your aroma samples cool, and refrigeration would be best, if you have the space. I suggest storing the small jars in the box they came in, if you purchased them new. Allow them to warm up to cool room temperature before using. The aroma samples should last 2-3 weeks if kept very cool. (I'm not sure what you mean by "blending." Each aroma sample will stay in its own jar. You'll be using each aroma component as an aid to recognizing these aromas in wine.)

Excellent! Chardonnay has gone through as many fashions as women's shoes. It's a versatile and somewhat masculine white grape. It can be grown in a variety of soils and climates, it's somewhat thick-skinned, with strong apple flavors, and it's very forgiving of mistakes. The reason it's often characterized as having butter and oak is because this has been the most popular style to date. Up until the 1980's it was more common to find a crisp, tank-fermented style. Then, since consumers thought of oak as "sophisticated," US winemakers started playing around with it and competing for the awakening US wine market, making heavily lactic and oak styles. After a while the wines got too unctuous and knowledgeable reviewers and customers started complaining that all they could taste was butter or oak, so now the industry has veered back to a more balanced style. It's my guess that most widely distributed (mass market) chardonnays have partial malolactic. Yes, it's always possible to force a variety to mimic another in terms of style. It has often been done in an effort to make "unfashionable" grapes attractive to the wine-buying market. Decades ago, many US consumers felt a little sophisticated ordering a "chardonnay" with a meal, but they wouldn't order "sauvignon blanc" because they didn't know what it was and they couldn't pronounce it. Mondavi was the first to make a heavily-oaked style and call it "Fume Blanc." It caught on as a pronounceable and sophisticated alternative to chardonnay. Viognier is a varietal that's catching on now, but a lot of producers are still doing it all wrong--trying to vinify it like chardonnay, or they pick it too soon. In the US, a wine made from a single grape varietal is usually named after the varietal. So a sauvignon blanc would most likely be labeled as a "sauvignon blanc" whether it was good, bad, indifferent, oaked, tanked, or bottled a month after pressing with oak additives in it. Yes, chardonnay is a grape with a naturally heavier mouthfeel. And, because of that, it can often handle a little more winemaker intervention gracefully, and is therefore a recipient of more maloloactic fermentation and oak than other white wines which are more "delicate." Being thicker skinned than some other white varieties, it also requires more heat to ripen, and heat often = higher sugar in the grapes which = more alcohol, which = heavier mouthfeel. Were you able to detect any differences in the "legs" of your white wines? I couldn't find reviews on the 2003 Founders Estate Chardonnay, but here are a few professional comments on the 2002: Wine Enthusiast Rated 87/Best Buy. "Nice and fruity, with plenty of ripe flavors and pleasantly oaky shadings. Peaches, pineapples and cream, buttered toast, cinnamonny spices and vanilla mingle together, leading to a sweet, honeyed finish." August 2004 San Francisco Chronicle "…the full-bodied, big boy of the group…loaded with spicy oak notes and ultraripe fruit and has a creamy texture." June 17, 2004. It looks as though Beringer definitely goes after the super-ripe, honeyed, and heavily oaked style, on the chardonnay, at any rate. I'm guessing you may prefer some oak, but not a total oak bomb. I'm with you in that camp. Although I said earlier that oak is more an aroma than a flavor, that may be my strong personal preference coming through. If I taste oak in a white wine, I'm usually apt to praise it as "liquid gold," but I'm not really referring to the wine! I haven't tried the Dancing Bull, but Beringer is usually very consistent and true to varietal, although I suspect the whites do have a trace (less than 2%, I'm guessing) of residual sugar. Big productions often leave a little 'RS' in the wine to balance the alcohol and give the wine a fuller mouthfeel. It's barely detectable unless you're experienced, and even then not unpleasant. If the Beringer wines had a trace of RS, and the sauvignon blanc was completely dry and had no malolactic conversion to soften it, it would taste very sharp compared to the other two. Or, it could just be a really acidic wine. No, you're fine. I didn't include chenin blanc for two reasons, and one is the one you just stated--I think it's hard to find an affordable yet well made chenin blanc that's widely available. Also, it's a delicate, thin-skinned variety as is sauvignon blanc, so I figured the sauvignon blanc would cover that part of the white wine spectrum. We'll use the suggested varietals as the basic course "assignments" but if anyone chooses another varietal and can share their impressions here, it will be like "alternate studies." I also enjoy a well made pinot blanc, which is similar to chardonnay but more pear-focused. I didn't include it, however, because I feel that the largest producer (who shall remain unnamed) doesn't do it justice. The Wild Horse pinot blanc was wonderful. I once took some to share with girlfriends in Newport Beach, California. They all drink chardonnay, and I wanted to expand their horizons. They loved it. "This is the best chardonnay we've ever had!" I pointed out that it's a pinot blanc. "Yes," they agreed, "and it's the best chardonnay we've every had!" I finally just shook my head and gave up. I'm glad they liked it, though.

It depends on whether you are tasting alone, or as a group. For an individual or couple, I recommend sticking with just 3 bottles each of white wine, and 3 of red. A group of four to six friends performing the exercises as a group could taste four to six wines. Although I only mention four standard white varietals, it would be fine to bring another varietal, or another bottle of a wine listed. For instance, there are crisp, tank-fermented Chardonnays, oak-fermented and aged Chardonnays, and many large production Chardonnays are actually somewhat sweet! So you could try out your new skills on a range of styles in one varietal.