Great Buys III

Ayinger Celebrator Doppelbock

This week, while at the corporate bottle store, I gambled and lost. I decided to go with a Chilean Syrah produced by a prominent wine-making family that will remain anonymous. The wine was familiar; I lustfully polished off the 2003 vintage in a tidy Days Inn suite during a poster tour weekend layover in St. Augustine, Florida. Although I admit that my wine palate was in its infancy, if not still wallowing in an under educated wine womb, I fondly remembering enjoying the bottle. To the very last purple drop in fact.

Unfortunately, the second time around I was left utterly disappointed and beside myself for selecting a wine catered toward the American market. As per the short tasting notes given by Wine Spectator lying below on the price tag, I should have known better. A rational response would have been to swivel on my right heel and walk away, but I couldn't resist. I needed to revisit the wine that once soothed my oral fixation in a lonely, sterile hotel room amidst a surfer's paradise.

Wine Spectator touted the wine as "richly layered...backed by a lush beam of boysenberry fruit...toasty finish." As an enthusiastic consumer why should I dismiss or doubt the praises of one of the country's most respected wine magazines?

Sitting down to pair the wine with a freshly pan-seared rib eye I was soon dismayed by my purchase. My hard earned money spent on a wine bastardized by the lure of new french oak. I wasn't tasting the wine, I was tasting the artificial flavoring. A more accurate description might state "Explosions of overripe fruit...intense black spice and vanilla...a stave walloping finish..." While the Syrah certainly boasted intense flavors, it was by no means balanced or attempting to adhere to a particular style. Could a discerning drinker discern the grape variety and country of origin? I highly doubt it; the oak masking any clues of the wine's identity, terrior and appellation. And food friendly? Forget about it. To what dish do you pair with a spiced fruit bomb?

As a result, this week I am slinking back to my humble past as a novice beer geek and homebrewer. Disheartened by my poor wine selection on Friday I reverted back to the world of zymurgy, where even after a long hiatus, I still feel comfortable and confident. Without hesitation I selected a few bottles I consider to be world class, available widely across our fine flag waving country and all modestly priced. Ayinger's Celebrator Doppelbock easily makes the list. At $2.99 a bottle, a price you might commonly pay for a formula rice wine at your local watering hole, this gem makes for a cheap date.

Originally brewed in a monastery in Northern Italy, doppelbock gained popularity in Germany after it was introduced to compete with the common, less alcoholic Bock. Doppelbock, like many high alcohol trappist ales was used throughout lent by fasting monks. Traditionally, doppelbock is a robust, dark lager praised for its fruity nose and dark chocolaty notes. In many circles Celebrator (doppelbock names end with -ator ie. Paulaner Salvator) has been hailed as the mother of all double bocks. Clocking in at 6.7 % abv, Celebrator gives a slight hiss when opened and immediately fills the air with a scent of roasted almonds. The beer pours dark rubby-brown and when filled in the proper glassware, ie. a tulip, will froth a thick, creamy beige head. The nose is filled with fruity berry esters as well as figs, plums, caramel and chocolate notes. A rich, thick mouthfeel continues to expouse the doppelbocks self-righteousness with creamy toffee and chocolate and a complimentary balance between malty sugar and a slight warming alcohol.

Now I know you might ask 'How can this rando celebrate the rich flavors of one alcoholic beverage and not another?' To answer honestly, Doppelbocks have a long history and are an established, balanced style of beer; a style that at one time was produced for religous purposes. Manipulated wines, such as the Chilean Syrah however, share a brief history of pleasing contemporary new world critics and flooding the American market raised on fast food and cloyingly sweet soda pops.

The Celebrator is even gaining new popularity with younger drinkers in Germany. It could just be the higher alcohol, but maybe they're on to something. Affordable and world class. Now those are two words I rarely hear at the same time in the wine world. Sometimes I need to be reminded of why it feels so great to love beer.

Heatwave!

Northern California has been clobbered with a mid-spring heatwave, temps soaring into the low 90s in the valley and to the West at the foot of the Mayacamas. Needless to say, the unseasonable weather has thrown me for a loop, confounding my senses and triggering my body to go into summer mode; my cerebral cortex cooly asks 'Sleep, what's that?' To which my impulse response so often seems: 'Sleep when you die!' That's the advice I'd like to pass around to my kids at least.



Early this morning, I sipped a black mug of Sumatran Dolok Sangul, flavors of blueberry, citrus and mikly cocao blasting away at my tastbuds. NPR's morning edition droned on about the near-zero possibility of Kurdish statehood, so I decided to tune out. Freeway 101, just past Healdsburg, opens up into a patchwork quilt of Cabernet in Zin along the Alexander Valley floor and only a good soundtrack will save you from la-la-ing off into utter a vine row trance. Popping on Jawbreaker's first classic Lp "Dear You" I propelled myself into the future, fueled on uplifting heartache. Can your day really be that bad when it starts out with Jawbreaker?





Fifteen-hundred feet above the valley floor in what I presume to be the Cloverdale highlands, the temperature was rising, but the sheep were still out and about on the morning graze. Warm, but not too warm for a bit of breaky. I pulled up to the ranch overlooking the Ukiah and Alexander Valleys and sighed, catching my breath. "Never fails. Stunning every time." But enough gazing, I had a field report to do. Mounting the Mule, an oversized diesel golf cart, I zoomed in and out of blocks, the fresh mountain air simultaneously cooling and wicking away body odor marching out rank and file from my slimmy pores. Like most days I was greeted by a gallant Swan, wings raised as it charged across an upper irrigation pond to defend its territory and the honor of his fair maiden, who sat cool, calm and collected on the far bank. Near the pump house two mud turtles sunned themselves on a floating two-by-four, but as the roar of the Mule become apparent each belly flopped into the murky depths with a small "plop." Turkeys scurried as I whizzed by giving me yet another grin.

The ranch is alive! So are the vines. Two weeks ago, minuscule buds fought to expand and break and now many cordon arms are bristing with three inch shoots. The miracles of nature. I love it! Every minute of it.

On the way out the door the turtles reassumed their positions and the sheep took shelter in the shade under the gnarly oaks, bracing themselves for the sweltering afternoon to come.

Changing gears, from cruising to cursing, the afternoon was spent constructing a deer fence in Bennet Valley. At the base of the Mayacamas, thermometers rocketed to the clouds and sweat poured freely like a bum jug at the Palace Flophouse. I took on the duty of pounding in intermediate stakes with a heavy metal tool called El Nino. Why the Mexican guys call it "the little boy," I still have no clue. To the sensitive ear the name eriely rings of child abuse.

For every downward stroke, an ear piercing "CLING!" and another tablespoon of sweat emerged from my epidermal layer. After six stakes my shoulders whinnied and my bottled piss and vinegar sprung a slow leak. After another ten I was beginning to feel like a faltering Jon Henry. But hell Jon Henry would take one look at me and ask "What you doing nancy boy? Shake a leg, before I break it off!

My only question remains, when will the heat snap? Will it snap? Is this global warming gonna scorch us this summer? Maybe I will run back to WNY with my tale between my legs. One can only support so much.

Not to mention the vines, with most off to the races with a few vineyards with shoots already peeking at a foot and a half. It's gonna be a busy season.

Great Buys Deux: Chateau Haut-Monplaisir

2005 Chateau Haut-Monplaisir Prestige

Purusing the local package store's selection this week I was looking for something deep, dark and brooding-hopefully with a good swift kick of tannins to boot. It was Saturday and I planned on swinging by the chop shop for a prime cut of red meat. What could pair better with a fresh New York steak than a California Petite Sirah, a Bordeaux bargain or a modestly priced Argentinian Malbec? With a bit of searching and an appetite to gamble I settled on a wine from the southern French appelation Cahors, a lesser known region that sits equidistant from the Atlantic Ocean and the Pyrennes Mountains. Once a competitor with neighboring Bordeaux, three major events virtually devastated the Cahors wine industry: (1) the onset of phylloxera in the late 1800s (2) the harsh frosts of 1956 which whiped out entire vineyards and (3) the financial success of Bordeaux which cast a blanket over its neighbor to the East.

Today, Cahors is comprised of roughly 15 % the amount of acreage that was planted in the late 19th century.

While these days a typical wine lover might say that 'Malbec' is synonymous with 'Argentina' (or maybe even Mendoza), some in the old world might claim otherwise. The history of the wine region of Cahors stretches back to Ancient Rome (50 BC), when vines were first planted and natives began crafting the "black wines of Lot." The inky, tannnic wines were at one time sent to the Russian Imerial court and used as sacramental wines for the Russian Orthodox Church.

Cahors, along with many French wine regions, is highly respected for its distinct terrior and tradition. The vineyards position, lying between the Atltanic, Pyrennes and Mediterrenean benefit from cool coastal breezes and an extended growing season as a result of Autumns with little to no rainfall. Likewise the wines often boast a strong minerality which is derived from chalky soils in the terraces of the Lot region, which were formed from erosion and ancient and modern alluvial deposits from the Lot River and its tributaries. Visually, the soil is emblazoned with a dark red, an indicator of soil rich in iron oxides, which were once mined in smelted in the region. Lastly, Cahors wines must be comprised of at least 70% Malbec (also called Cot, or known locally as Auxerrois) and are often blended with Merlot, to round out the mouthfeel, and Tannat.

Chateau Haut-Monplaisir is located on the third and highest terrace of the Lot region, characterised by its altitude and freely draining soils. Cathy and Daniel Fournie began the estate in 1998 when they decided they would like to make their own wine from the vineyards long farmed (the fruit sold to negociants) by Cathy's father. With the help of Pascal Verhaege of the well knon Chateau du Cedre, the Fournie's were able to launch their dream.

Each year the chateau produces three cuvees: a straight Cahors fermented and aged in cement vats, Prestige which is aged in new and used oak and Pur Plaisir which is unorthodoxly crushed directly into 500 liter demi-muids; their side staves pre-removed and stood on end for fermentation in barrel.

The 2005 Prestige poured a deep inky purple, mezmerrizing to the eyes and beckoning one to ask: what saturated flavors lurk beneath? Dark berries, plums and blackberries efused from the nose with smoky notes lingering in the background. The biggest suprise might be the mouthfeel, which was rounder and softer than I expected. My best guess is twofold: the wine according to the importers website press release was privy to "carefull use of micro-oxegenation" and the protein (my delicious steak!) help tone down the tannins as well. Inside the mouth the taste effuses more dark berries, baking chocolate (cocao),spice and smoke which coupled with strong acidity gives off a subtle cranberry flavor. The tannins hold strong in the finish reminding you that this wine is bold and robust, with ageing potential, but most importantly it should be paired with your favorite cut of red meat. So head out to your neighborhood carniceria and pick up a bottle.

Aprovecha!

For more info check out:

Chateau Haut-Plaisir importer press release

http://www.vintage59.com/pdf/haut_monplaisir_profile.pdf

French Travel and Leisure website

http://www.frenchentree.com/france-lot-quercy-cahors-wine/

Plan a Cahors Wine Tour!

http://www.frenchentree.com/france-lot-quercy-cahors-wine-tours/

Wine Enthusiast website on French Wine

http://www.frenchduck.co.uk/cahors.html

Great Buys I

2005 Copeland Creek Vineyards Pinot Noir

Everytime I visit Bottle Barn in Santa Rosa off of Industrial Ave. I snoop for something off the beaten path, a wine quite possibly that none of the wine critics will crown (or should I say annoint) with a hefty 90+ point score. When I see the cue card boasting accolades from the Wine Advocate and other crowd pleasing wine pundits I swivel my cheeks 180 degrees and walk away. I'm over heavily oaked fruit bombs and high alcohol reds well on their way to fortified winedom. I scream for grit, grime, raw untamed wines at affordable prices with some terroir to boot.

On my way to the checkout, arms full with a few research specimens, I spotted my gem for the week. The 2005 Copeland Creek Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir, sitting in a cut cardboard box with a long winded, laminated review from Santa Rosa's own The Press Democrat taped on below. Speeding through the first few lines I skipped the rest thinking "What the hell, let's giv'er a try." After all, the region was appealing enough, Sonoma Coast, the alcohol a good percent and a half lower (13.5 %) than many California Pinots, the vintage was slightly aged and most importantly the price was right: $22. Yeah, yeah I know. To your average Joe-the-shovel-leaner the pricetage appears a bit steep, but in California this almost seemed like a bargain. And to be fair many top CA Pinots are flying off the shelf at 60, 70 and 80 bucks a pop; Kosta-Browne, Flowers, and Hanzell are but a few. Not to meniton that this was my weekend and I was gonna enjoy it!

Copeland Creek's 2005 Pinot poured a light ruby color, immediately signalling to me that the wine had a feminine style, maybe making it a bit more subtle and alluring. The nose opened up immediately with dark cherries, spice and raspberry. The mouthfeel was silky smooth with velvety (or absent) tannins and a baked red berry and slight oak taste that lingered for a while with well balanced acidity.

Incredibly palatelable. It's refreshing to taste Pinot Noir that could be cracked even on a hot summer day. Buying a case of the '05 to savor over the next two years would be a wise decision indeed.