In honor of the holidays, there will be no Interwined post.
However, it is hard to believe it is even the holiday season as the Rose bushes and fuchsia are blooming on my street.
English Sparkling wine producers say that, in this decade, global warming will give Britain wines that rival France. Indeed, some French vintners are looking at Kent for vineyard property.
Ice wines, which rely on mold to produce the tell-tale honey sweetness, will soon require artificial freezing when there is no frost by January. German producers in the Rhein are preparing for this. Torres, in North Spain is planning to source grapes from places across the border, in France.
Global warming will have us all dreaming of a white Christmas, literally.
But, this is all good news for Bordeaux, which had a spectacular year for 2005. Even early offerings, such as the Chateau Moulin de Beausoleil 2005 Bordeaux, Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot, are very promising at £6 a bottle. Ripe, large and round. Harsh tannin, but mucho berry. Not enough Oak for the Merlot. But a bargain. 8.5
Wait a second, this is turning into a blog entry after all…
DAMMIT!
Merry Christmas.
Monday, December 18, 2006
Monday, December 11, 2006
'Tis the Season
Two Christmas parties. Both for my two-year-old daughter's friends in the hood.
The first, financed by the government. Perhaps in exchange for the enormous taxes levied on English citizens. Despite political backing, the celebration was decidedly not PC. First of all, the party was officially called a "Christmas Party…" not a holiday gathering or a festive celebration… or even a winter warmer.
Also, about one-third of goers were Muslim, BTW. The role of the so-called pagan symbol of Christian authority, Santa, was in fact, played by a Hindu woman. (Zeena did OK, but should Father Christmas really be wearing high heels?)
Who cares? Let's party.
The second party was at the Palace. The Palace is a place where children with learning disabilities can go… to be themselves. And, their parents can feel normal. Having a chid that isn’t 'normal' (the mildest Palace cases are Down's syndrome, Autism -- the worst are, well, the worst) can be hard on a parent. So a little party to blow off some steam, for parent and child, is worth its weight in wiseman gold.
My daughter is 'normal' by said standards, no disabilities, but my production company, Crescent City, donates to the Palace. So we are always welcome. At any rate, it's one of the neatest places on earth.
At the Palace, no one feels special. And that's the point. There are no rules, yet children wait in line, they don’t push or bite. Everything is sorted, by itself. Having no rules at the Palace has made it, strangely, an oasis of playful order.
No wonder its going broke.
But the raffle was fun, even though the kids with OCD ate all the fried shrimp.
I paid £1 for a raffle ticket. There were about ten prizes and some were way flash. The first winner got to choose their prize. A stuffed lion that came in its own suitcase. Easily the pick of the litter.
Other winners came and went. The 'Electroglobe 3000,' was snatched up quickly, followed by a life-sized Galileo thermostat.
Finally, with no hope of winning, yours truly decided to take a seat. A winner was called with two prizes left. She chose the 'Pingu' season two DVD. The gift secretly wanted for my little girl.
One gift left. The last number called.
Bingo!
Went to collect my prize, the one no one else wanted: a bottle of 2005 Italian Job Sangiovese Zinfandel. Yes, a bottle of wine as a raffle prize at a kids party. Obviously meant for me. Even the raffle caller said, "the wine writer won the bottle of wine?"
Italian Job is a grapey table wine from anywhere in Italy. It is bold and expressive, with a touch of tar, but lacks finesse. Drink this table wine now, as it will spoil hours after opening. If won in a raffle, it represents the best value for a wine one could ever hope to have. 'The Italian Job,' £1, 8.0.
Irony, priceless.
Also, 2004 Bonterra Merlot, Mendocino County for £8. Ripe red cherry, with a flair of cherry coke. Maybe too much French oak. Very aromatic, and a stunner for the price. Highly recommended and extremely classy for California at this price range. 8.8
The first, financed by the government. Perhaps in exchange for the enormous taxes levied on English citizens. Despite political backing, the celebration was decidedly not PC. First of all, the party was officially called a "Christmas Party…" not a holiday gathering or a festive celebration… or even a winter warmer.
Also, about one-third of goers were Muslim, BTW. The role of the so-called pagan symbol of Christian authority, Santa, was in fact, played by a Hindu woman. (Zeena did OK, but should Father Christmas really be wearing high heels?)
Who cares? Let's party.
The second party was at the Palace. The Palace is a place where children with learning disabilities can go… to be themselves. And, their parents can feel normal. Having a chid that isn’t 'normal' (the mildest Palace cases are Down's syndrome, Autism -- the worst are, well, the worst) can be hard on a parent. So a little party to blow off some steam, for parent and child, is worth its weight in wiseman gold.
My daughter is 'normal' by said standards, no disabilities, but my production company, Crescent City, donates to the Palace. So we are always welcome. At any rate, it's one of the neatest places on earth.
At the Palace, no one feels special. And that's the point. There are no rules, yet children wait in line, they don’t push or bite. Everything is sorted, by itself. Having no rules at the Palace has made it, strangely, an oasis of playful order.
No wonder its going broke.
But the raffle was fun, even though the kids with OCD ate all the fried shrimp.
I paid £1 for a raffle ticket. There were about ten prizes and some were way flash. The first winner got to choose their prize. A stuffed lion that came in its own suitcase. Easily the pick of the litter.
Other winners came and went. The 'Electroglobe 3000,' was snatched up quickly, followed by a life-sized Galileo thermostat.
Finally, with no hope of winning, yours truly decided to take a seat. A winner was called with two prizes left. She chose the 'Pingu' season two DVD. The gift secretly wanted for my little girl.
One gift left. The last number called.
Bingo!
Went to collect my prize, the one no one else wanted: a bottle of 2005 Italian Job Sangiovese Zinfandel. Yes, a bottle of wine as a raffle prize at a kids party. Obviously meant for me. Even the raffle caller said, "the wine writer won the bottle of wine?"
Italian Job is a grapey table wine from anywhere in Italy. It is bold and expressive, with a touch of tar, but lacks finesse. Drink this table wine now, as it will spoil hours after opening. If won in a raffle, it represents the best value for a wine one could ever hope to have. 'The Italian Job,' £1, 8.0.
Irony, priceless.
Also, 2004 Bonterra Merlot, Mendocino County for £8. Ripe red cherry, with a flair of cherry coke. Maybe too much French oak. Very aromatic, and a stunner for the price. Highly recommended and extremely classy for California at this price range. 8.8
Monday, December 04, 2006
French Frustration
Had some wine with a friend from France, Javier.
Javier doesn’t like that everyone says the French are arrogant. Like Americans living abroad, there is always this feeling that your homeland needs constant defending. But after two bottles of wine, Javier's pleas became impassioned, forceful, tearful and eventually, arrogant.
But arrogant in a cute way.
Feeling bad, I did the only thing Americans know how to do when a foreigner is feeling blue: I offered to get him a job.
Javier will be doing wine-related promotions in no time.
Went to a tasting of Burgundy, hosted by Antonin Rodet. French vintners from the area are a bit frustrated that the 'Sideways' effect – the explosion of Pinot Noir sales because of the movie – has yet to materialise in Le Republic.
Wines from Burgundy are made with Chardonnay for whites and Pinot Noir for reds. But, like many French regions, the struggle has been for a consistent wine at a decent price.
These wines finally do just that. Nine whites and 12 reds were tried. Started with 'regional' wines: grapes source from any vineyard in Burgundy. Then moved to 'village' wines, and finally to 'estate' wines. Follow the 'as the vineyards available decreases, quality increases' thingy? Burgundy baby.
TIP: Don't know which Burgundy is best? Then you fit in the majority category. (It's a big section, with about 99.999999 percent of the earth's population in it.) Pick the one with the most writting on the label. The more 'areas' declared, the better it can get.
Of course, price does a good job telling that tale.
All of the whites came from the 2004 harvest, the reds, some still not in bottle for retail, from the 2005. Remember that. The 2004 Burgundy whites are crisp and clean, metallic, citrus and vanilla. Touch of honey in the grapes infected with mild rot.
The 2005 are uplifting and fresh. Fruit-forward and funky. Tannic but not tart. Memorable. The 'estate' wines can age for at least ten years yet. Both outstanding wines from outstanding vintages.
2004 Burgundy white 9.0
2005 Burgundy red 9.1
Javier doesn’t like that everyone says the French are arrogant. Like Americans living abroad, there is always this feeling that your homeland needs constant defending. But after two bottles of wine, Javier's pleas became impassioned, forceful, tearful and eventually, arrogant.
But arrogant in a cute way.
Feeling bad, I did the only thing Americans know how to do when a foreigner is feeling blue: I offered to get him a job.
Javier will be doing wine-related promotions in no time.
Went to a tasting of Burgundy, hosted by Antonin Rodet. French vintners from the area are a bit frustrated that the 'Sideways' effect – the explosion of Pinot Noir sales because of the movie – has yet to materialise in Le Republic.
Wines from Burgundy are made with Chardonnay for whites and Pinot Noir for reds. But, like many French regions, the struggle has been for a consistent wine at a decent price.
These wines finally do just that. Nine whites and 12 reds were tried. Started with 'regional' wines: grapes source from any vineyard in Burgundy. Then moved to 'village' wines, and finally to 'estate' wines. Follow the 'as the vineyards available decreases, quality increases' thingy? Burgundy baby.
TIP: Don't know which Burgundy is best? Then you fit in the majority category. (It's a big section, with about 99.999999 percent of the earth's population in it.) Pick the one with the most writting on the label. The more 'areas' declared, the better it can get.
Of course, price does a good job telling that tale.
All of the whites came from the 2004 harvest, the reds, some still not in bottle for retail, from the 2005. Remember that. The 2004 Burgundy whites are crisp and clean, metallic, citrus and vanilla. Touch of honey in the grapes infected with mild rot.
The 2005 are uplifting and fresh. Fruit-forward and funky. Tannic but not tart. Memorable. The 'estate' wines can age for at least ten years yet. Both outstanding wines from outstanding vintages.
2004 Burgundy white 9.0
2005 Burgundy red 9.1
Tuesday, November 28, 2006
Where to Start?
Recently led a talk on German and Austrian wines. It's a shame really, German and Austrian wines are the purest, cleanest wines on the planet, with regulatory bodies that ensure a high level of quality. But that isn't enough. The wines also tend to be on the sweeter side, and everyone these days wants dry.
Tried to explain that 'sweetness' is a broad term. For instance, the Kabinetts (table wine) from the Rhein are sweet sure, but fruity and floral, whereas whites from the Mosel are more on the petrol and perfume end. And both are considered sweet, but sweet in different ways.
Also, lower in alcohol. But that's OK. We drank twice as much.
The event was also attended by a dignitary from the German Embassy. If you're reading this Ingmar, thanks for coming. Never heard anyone wax so poetically on drinking Dornfelder as a young boy on the slopes of the Swiss Alps… actually never heard anyone talk about anything remotely like that. But, thanks for the speech.
He did, it should be mentioned, object to my use of the adjective 'petrol,' thinking it derogatory.
TIP: Trying to slow the blizzard of the winter bulge? Try mixing one part mayo with two parts yoghurt for a creamy, low-fat sandwich spread. Wife's tip, but will say it's mine, cause she never bothers to read my work... and none of you will ever know (insert fiendish laughter).
Decanter magazine declared the 2005 Castillero del Diablo Cabernet Sauvignon, Chile the best value Cabernet… and they're right. For around $6, the ripe fruit and easy going nature of the wine make it perfect for the price. Snatch it up, there should be plenty to go around. 8.8
Tried to explain that 'sweetness' is a broad term. For instance, the Kabinetts (table wine) from the Rhein are sweet sure, but fruity and floral, whereas whites from the Mosel are more on the petrol and perfume end. And both are considered sweet, but sweet in different ways.
Also, lower in alcohol. But that's OK. We drank twice as much.
The event was also attended by a dignitary from the German Embassy. If you're reading this Ingmar, thanks for coming. Never heard anyone wax so poetically on drinking Dornfelder as a young boy on the slopes of the Swiss Alps… actually never heard anyone talk about anything remotely like that. But, thanks for the speech.
He did, it should be mentioned, object to my use of the adjective 'petrol,' thinking it derogatory.
TIP: Trying to slow the blizzard of the winter bulge? Try mixing one part mayo with two parts yoghurt for a creamy, low-fat sandwich spread. Wife's tip, but will say it's mine, cause she never bothers to read my work... and none of you will ever know (insert fiendish laughter).
Decanter magazine declared the 2005 Castillero del Diablo Cabernet Sauvignon, Chile the best value Cabernet… and they're right. For around $6, the ripe fruit and easy going nature of the wine make it perfect for the price. Snatch it up, there should be plenty to go around. 8.8
Monday, November 13, 2006
British Pride
First impression of London. At Victoria Station, around ten years ago. The man directing the queue for the taxi rank was wearing a suit and tie underneath his bright yellow, fluorescent striped jacket. What's to be learned? That the British have an unnatural fondness for wearing reflective clothing? Sure. But also that the suit and tie indicated a great level in pride of work. In the States, attitude would be the norm… a verbal slap-down for asking a simple question.
Not here. It's a matter of pride.
Talking to a caterer, and luckily, they were in the catering business. Otherwise, you're wasting your talent man! Trying to drum up some work. Need help brushing-up that wine list? Jacob is the man. They got someone of course, "who really knows…"
I doubt it.
The list was filled with the usual atrocity of Australians on the cheap end and French on the high end. The usual suspects from an industry full of people who seem more interested in appeasement than excitement. Where's that British pride? Stand up and say that people would like to be offered more.
Jack (see below) says we're not ready. Speaking of lesser-know wine country -- "People will turn their nose up, even if you tell them it is exactly what they're looking for."
New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc should have a hint of gooseberry, as part of its 'flavour profile.' Had a supermarket version from Sainsbury's for £7. It was decent, hint of petrol in the nose. Lots of zip and tang, and really, really didn't go with my team losing at (American) football last weekend. New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc 8.4; New Orleans Saints 6.3.
Went for a voice casting for a Sony PS2 game. Waited an hour. "They like everyone so much, so they're taking their time." Finally got in, read two lines. "Thank you, that is all."
Could use some of that British pride right about now.
Not here. It's a matter of pride.
Talking to a caterer, and luckily, they were in the catering business. Otherwise, you're wasting your talent man! Trying to drum up some work. Need help brushing-up that wine list? Jacob is the man. They got someone of course, "who really knows…"
I doubt it.
The list was filled with the usual atrocity of Australians on the cheap end and French on the high end. The usual suspects from an industry full of people who seem more interested in appeasement than excitement. Where's that British pride? Stand up and say that people would like to be offered more.
Jack (see below) says we're not ready. Speaking of lesser-know wine country -- "People will turn their nose up, even if you tell them it is exactly what they're looking for."
New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc should have a hint of gooseberry, as part of its 'flavour profile.' Had a supermarket version from Sainsbury's for £7. It was decent, hint of petrol in the nose. Lots of zip and tang, and really, really didn't go with my team losing at (American) football last weekend. New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc 8.4; New Orleans Saints 6.3.
Went for a voice casting for a Sony PS2 game. Waited an hour. "They like everyone so much, so they're taking their time." Finally got in, read two lines. "Thank you, that is all."
Could use some of that British pride right about now.
Thursday, November 09, 2006
You Don't Know Jack
Jack works at the local Oddbins, selling wines. After the earlier blog, the search was on. Walked into the wine shop and Jack said that he was in the middle of a crossword, needed a badger-like creature for Seven Down. Native to North America. Nutria, Possum? Needed to be seven letters, third letter is an 's.'
No help from me.
Luckily Jack dealt with my question better. "What do you have that's different?"
A few seconds and a couple laps around the shop and Jack hands me a bottle of Adebengo from the Duero, made from Juan Garcia (grape). He is a clever bastard, Jack.
He knows about my show in the Duero, and Juan Garcia is seen as a blight on the local vines. You see, it lacks the international allure of Tempranillo. No one even seems to care about the origin of Juan Garcia. To find a place that makes Juan Garcia, and even exports it, is a treasure. It is typically a local grape and is being uprooted in favour of Tempranillo and French varietals, especially Cabernet and Merlot.
There is little room in today's competitive wine industry for a sassy, punk-ass wine grape that few people have heard of… especially a grape with a name that sounds more like a bandito on the run from La Migra, than one grown quietly in Spain's sleepy backwaters.
The wine is a bit tarry, and very earthy… a good example of how the earth renders flavour… that granite soil is there, in the wine, like a signature. The nose is full of blackberries and a touch of damp soil, like in a forest. The body is somewhat heavy, but overall the wines is very different and a joy to drink. A steal at around 8 pounds. 8.8 points.
No help from me.
Luckily Jack dealt with my question better. "What do you have that's different?"
A few seconds and a couple laps around the shop and Jack hands me a bottle of Adebengo from the Duero, made from Juan Garcia (grape). He is a clever bastard, Jack.
He knows about my show in the Duero, and Juan Garcia is seen as a blight on the local vines. You see, it lacks the international allure of Tempranillo. No one even seems to care about the origin of Juan Garcia. To find a place that makes Juan Garcia, and even exports it, is a treasure. It is typically a local grape and is being uprooted in favour of Tempranillo and French varietals, especially Cabernet and Merlot.
There is little room in today's competitive wine industry for a sassy, punk-ass wine grape that few people have heard of… especially a grape with a name that sounds more like a bandito on the run from La Migra, than one grown quietly in Spain's sleepy backwaters.
The wine is a bit tarry, and very earthy… a good example of how the earth renders flavour… that granite soil is there, in the wine, like a signature. The nose is full of blackberries and a touch of damp soil, like in a forest. The body is somewhat heavy, but overall the wines is very different and a joy to drink. A steal at around 8 pounds. 8.8 points.
Monday, November 06, 2006
In the Thick of it...
For a country that produces more than its fair share of wine writers, England fails to come through in terms of wine availability. Wines have been, and continue to be created, based on the British palate. But if there are no sales, wine producers -- and, namely, the handful of large drinks corporations behind 90 percent of the wines purchased in the western world -- will quickly pull the plug on the brands.
Let's face it, the average wine buyer is grappling with wine decisions, with the biggest factor being price. However, press releases herald the British palate as 'market savvy,' 'consumer confident' even, 'a force to be reckoned with'… yet if this palate were, in fact, so developed, there would be greater choice… it isn't as if we can't even tell the difference between gravel and gravy. Give us a break.
Budgens supermarket just opened a new branch near my neighbourhood. The wine section is well-lit and alluring. A place for serious wines. So, one may go and expect to get something really different, no? Say a Zwigelt from Austria? A Muller Thurgau from Germany? A wacky Dornfelder from the States?
Forget it. In fact, the choice of Australia wines, which all basically taste the same, bleed over into the 'GERMANY' section. Interestingly, there were no German wines. Wouldn't someone notice? Shameful.
However, there is one Israeli producer (that country makes great wines), one Greek producer, and one producer from Peru.
PERU? Nice.
Here's a lesson, according to the back label, apparently the 2005 Tacama Gran Tinto, made from a blend of Merot, Petit Verdot and Tannat which are picked from the first vineyards to ever produce wines in the Americas… back in 1540…. using French grapes? Now, this isn't a history blog, but…
A weak and flabby nose, with the odor of moldy blackberries and crushed tobacco. It isn't unpleasant, but then, it's not very good either. Tight and rubbery in the mouth with a burning finish. Certainly different and more exciting than drinking a Chilean Merlot or Argentinean Malbec, but for £8, a better version of either would be available. 7.8
Tell us about any 'different' wines at your wine stores. Don’t need to buy them, but let's see what choices we are being provided with. If the rest of the world's wine shelves are anything like the one's in my neighbourhood, then we still have a long way to go.
Wednesday, November 01, 2006
My Blog?
Back from Spain. Went from Madrid, up to Salamanca and the Duero valley… over to Rioja and then up to Bilbao. Took a flight to Barcelona and hung around Penedes, where Cava, Spanish sparkling wine is produced. Spent the last two days in Madrid shooting the 'first' scene and the 'last' scene.
Got about 12 hours of high-definition digital video. Now we have to work it into four 30-minute episodes. Piece of cake. For me. The director is feeling the pinch though…
Sorry it's been more than a month. Appreciate the patience. Made this joke during the last night in Madrid. After stumbling through several attempts to order a few beers for the boys, the waitress promptly provided me with a plate of olives. Went back to the table, olives in hand, and the punch line went something like: "Madrid is alot like London… the person taking your order doesn't speak English!"
If you got that joke, congratulations, deep inside you are a Londoner.
The day before leaving, was sharing a sweet moment on the street with my two-year old daughter. She was trying to pet a kitten. Got verbally assaulted by a stranger. Threatened to smash my nose and generally beat me to a small whimper mass vaguely resembling a pulp before the cops came. Felt paranoid for the two weeks whilst on set, but my little girl brushed it off. She is a Londoner.
The day of my return, saw a man, drunk off 12 pints of lager, peeing in plain site, in front of a group of otherwise healthy, well-adjusted teenagers… his stream was slapping right on the outside wall of a porta-potty. That porta-potty is a Londoner.
Got an email from an old friend wanting wine advice, my favorite advice to give, on a botte to give as a gift to his father, who is remarrying, and normally doesn't drink. Missed my chance though, for a timely reply, cause of Spain. He wanted a white, not too dry, or a blush… my belated response:
I would have recommended a Reisling (grape) from the Mosel (region) in Germany, flinty and fresh, but not dry... or the more exotic Gruner Vetliner (grape) from anywhere in Austria... look for tell-tale hints of white pepper...
On the blush maybe a Tavel (region) Rose from France... but those tend to be on the dry side... Banrock Station makes a pretty crazy sparkling Shiraz from Australia...
Got about 12 hours of high-definition digital video. Now we have to work it into four 30-minute episodes. Piece of cake. For me. The director is feeling the pinch though…
Sorry it's been more than a month. Appreciate the patience. Made this joke during the last night in Madrid. After stumbling through several attempts to order a few beers for the boys, the waitress promptly provided me with a plate of olives. Went back to the table, olives in hand, and the punch line went something like: "Madrid is alot like London… the person taking your order doesn't speak English!"
If you got that joke, congratulations, deep inside you are a Londoner.
The day before leaving, was sharing a sweet moment on the street with my two-year old daughter. She was trying to pet a kitten. Got verbally assaulted by a stranger. Threatened to smash my nose and generally beat me to a small whimper mass vaguely resembling a pulp before the cops came. Felt paranoid for the two weeks whilst on set, but my little girl brushed it off. She is a Londoner.
The day of my return, saw a man, drunk off 12 pints of lager, peeing in plain site, in front of a group of otherwise healthy, well-adjusted teenagers… his stream was slapping right on the outside wall of a porta-potty. That porta-potty is a Londoner.
Got an email from an old friend wanting wine advice, my favorite advice to give, on a botte to give as a gift to his father, who is remarrying, and normally doesn't drink. Missed my chance though, for a timely reply, cause of Spain. He wanted a white, not too dry, or a blush… my belated response:
I would have recommended a Reisling (grape) from the Mosel (region) in Germany, flinty and fresh, but not dry... or the more exotic Gruner Vetliner (grape) from anywhere in Austria... look for tell-tale hints of white pepper...
On the blush maybe a Tavel (region) Rose from France... but those tend to be on the dry side... Banrock Station makes a pretty crazy sparkling Shiraz from Australia...
Friday, September 29, 2006
Interwined: Spain
Well, the banks of Northern Spain (Cajas Duero, Rioja) have finally come through and given me a grant to do several more episodes of Interwined, my wine show.
We sent discs of the first show to all the wine producers involved in the first episode. The trailer is at the end of this blog for readers of Interwined.com, or directly on the page, for myspace readers. Yes this is the first wine blog, not associated with a wine maker or publication, with video...
Guess more video should go online if there's going to be so much trash talking.
Anyway, long story short, one of the winery owners happens to be friends with Spain's Minister of Agriculture and decided to shared the love and show him the episode. And now the government wants more. Mainly to help promote tourism in the regions.
Four months it took, waiting for financial approval... and in all that time they never wised up. Sweet.
Hopefully, blogs will come every other day or so, but shooting these things normally involves 14 to 16-hour work days. Leaving on Sunday 1 October and back in two weeks.
Wish me luck.
Real quick. Expect errors from time to time on this blog, and some are also intentional, in order for you to get your learning on.
Earlier this week, Glen Carlou was called a New Zealand producer from Paarl. Paarl is in South Africa. Thought someone would have caught that, since the article was kinda about South African wines. Kinda. Better luck next time, guys.
But, more alarmingly, no one is clicking my google ads. What's the point of getting filthy rich if it doesn't come from shameless begging? See, the problem right now is that while I may not be close to rich, I make up for it by being filthy.
You know what, you guys are great, I'm going to review a South African wine for you RIGHT NOW! Gimme a sec...
Just let me finish that last sip of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo from Moncaro, 8 pounds from the pizzeria down the street. Mmm, OK. Bit light, but perfect with the pepperoni pizza from last night. The dough was a bit too salty though, but the Italians who made it know more than Dominoes... 8.4 points
The 2003 Tukulu Pinotage, the South African hybrid grape mentioned earlier this week, cost about 7 pounds at Oddbins. There are two words that make little sense to me, (anyone care to explain?) under the Tukulu name reads 'Papkuilsfontein' which would normally indicate some kind of region or vineyard. But there is also another word on the back, 'Groenekloof,' which is probably also a region. Who named these regions, Tolkein?
The wine is neat because is smells of banana, as well as the typical ripe vine fruits of a typical red wine. However, the taste is smokey and oaky. It's really nice for the price. It is a fascinating wine, the body is weak but the structure is strong, just like the Superdome. 8.7 points.
Don't drink with food and cheese will tone it down. Go for it full tilt. Try some bottles of Pinotage, people, and tell me if you think this is a typical taste profile for the grape.
Next stop, Madrid.
We sent discs of the first show to all the wine producers involved in the first episode. The trailer is at the end of this blog for readers of Interwined.com, or directly on the page, for myspace readers. Yes this is the first wine blog, not associated with a wine maker or publication, with video...
Guess more video should go online if there's going to be so much trash talking.
Anyway, long story short, one of the winery owners happens to be friends with Spain's Minister of Agriculture and decided to shared the love and show him the episode. And now the government wants more. Mainly to help promote tourism in the regions.
Four months it took, waiting for financial approval... and in all that time they never wised up. Sweet.
Hopefully, blogs will come every other day or so, but shooting these things normally involves 14 to 16-hour work days. Leaving on Sunday 1 October and back in two weeks.
Wish me luck.
Real quick. Expect errors from time to time on this blog, and some are also intentional, in order for you to get your learning on.
Earlier this week, Glen Carlou was called a New Zealand producer from Paarl. Paarl is in South Africa. Thought someone would have caught that, since the article was kinda about South African wines. Kinda. Better luck next time, guys.
But, more alarmingly, no one is clicking my google ads. What's the point of getting filthy rich if it doesn't come from shameless begging? See, the problem right now is that while I may not be close to rich, I make up for it by being filthy.
You know what, you guys are great, I'm going to review a South African wine for you RIGHT NOW! Gimme a sec...
Just let me finish that last sip of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo from Moncaro, 8 pounds from the pizzeria down the street. Mmm, OK. Bit light, but perfect with the pepperoni pizza from last night. The dough was a bit too salty though, but the Italians who made it know more than Dominoes... 8.4 points
The 2003 Tukulu Pinotage, the South African hybrid grape mentioned earlier this week, cost about 7 pounds at Oddbins. There are two words that make little sense to me, (anyone care to explain?) under the Tukulu name reads 'Papkuilsfontein' which would normally indicate some kind of region or vineyard. But there is also another word on the back, 'Groenekloof,' which is probably also a region. Who named these regions, Tolkein?
The wine is neat because is smells of banana, as well as the typical ripe vine fruits of a typical red wine. However, the taste is smokey and oaky. It's really nice for the price. It is a fascinating wine, the body is weak but the structure is strong, just like the Superdome. 8.7 points.
Don't drink with food and cheese will tone it down. Go for it full tilt. Try some bottles of Pinotage, people, and tell me if you think this is a typical taste profile for the grape.
Next stop, Madrid.
Monday, September 25, 2006
This Blog is so Lame
No photos or nothing.
This week's entry is going to be short and sweet, for a good visual aid, just imagine Tattoo from Fantasy Island standing in a bathtub full of sweet coconut milk and hot chocolate.
Don't want to jinx any upcoming projects, so best just to avoid the subject altogether. Will say that later this week, say Thursday, Friday, expect another offering from the wine sit-com script. Also expect twice-weekly updates of note. Say Tuesday and Friday.
Tried to strike out to South Africa, but sought to avoid the big grape from over there: Pinotage, which is a mad-scientist hybrid of Pinot Noir and Cinsault. The evolution of the way various grapes would have tasted way back when and what they are now is a curious issue in the wine industry, especially since the advent of genetic testing. For instance, Zinfandel has been traced to being the love child of Primitivo, the Italian grape. Merlot and Malbec are sometimes considered just about the same grape, from a DNA perspective.
Nonetheless, a good grape vine will reflect the location where it is grown, regardless of what it's double helix tells you, and there should be parallels between the food, people, some say the music, and perhaps, who knows, even the architecture. However, with South Africa it's hard to imagine a specific identity. Still can't get my head around the concept. Wine? From Africa?
Apparently, the vineyards are among the most beautiful in the world.
The one wine sampled showed that identity point exactly. While not terribly bad, the 2005 Wolftrap is an awkward mish-mash of Syrah, Cinsault, Mourvedre and Viognier. The aroma swirls with black pepper and tastes of too much oak. It would be a challenge for any expert to taste it blind and say, "yup, that's a South African blend of red and white grapes." My guess is that they would guess South Australia Shiraz. 8.2 not for flavour, but for lacking guts. Also, it's too early for it to be on the shelves. Too tight, don't drink before 2007. Around 7.50 GBP at Oddbins.
The Glen Carlou, one of my favourite New Zealand wine producers, 2004 Tortoise Hill red is also a blend. Don't think there is Pinot Noir, but can't be sure. They didn't bother putting the info on the label. It's like the fat cats of Paarl are sitting in a smoke-filled conference room, leaning back in leather chairs, puffing on Cuban cigars, saying, "Who gives a damn what grapes are in it?"
Well, we do, and it tastes like there are about three or four varieties… most likely Syrah and Cinsault. Perhaps with some Merlot and Zinfandel, for smoothness and pepper, respectively. (Upon further research, the wine is predominately Cabernet Sauvignon, 69 percent… so big miss there. Syrah is in there, but not Cinsault, at 12.5 percent. Zinfandel and Merlot are there, at nine and four percent… but the big surprise is the Portugese bad boy Tourega Nacional fills out the rest of the bottle.) With all those grapes, it's disappointing… and, oddly, tastes South African.
Berries, fruity, oaky, tannic and tight. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. 8.0, because I expected better. Less than 8 GBP, also at Oddbins.
Got an email from the States:
"Got 2 new bottles. Sweet Bitch from California (9.99) and Justin Vineyards Syrah Paso Robles (25.99) Both 2004. The Sweet Bitch claims "slightly sweet" however, they meant to say "sugary sweet". Almost undrinkable. We may just decide to cook with it."
Don’t do that, the dish you prepare will taste like the crappy wine. Unless you plan to make a coulis, mixed with pureed raspberry, for a cheesecake, or mix it with olive oil to make dressing for a bitter leaf salad.
He continues:
"I am looking forward to the Justin. Our local merchant tells me it's his best selling Syrah. Have you heard anything about it? I am always leery of spending $25 on an unknown. Especially one from California."
My reader was unimpressed with both choices in the end:
"That Justin Syrah 04 was similar to Coppola just twice the price. So I think we shall stick with Coppola."
Almost 35 bucks down the hole. This is especially aggravating because the reader was sold on the bottle by the merchant. Come to think of it why is American wine so expensive? Especially the more popular ones?
At any rate, next time try the Justin 'Isosceles'… it's a Meritage, rhymes with 'heritage,' the pretty Californian name for a wine made with the three main grapes of Bordeaux: Cabernets Sauvignon and Franc and Merlot. Never had a bad bottle of the stuff. Or a single bottle, for that matter. Only ever tried it at wine tastings.
Reading that the wine was too sweet brought a grimace to my face. Sugary sweetness is unpleasant in Noble varieties, it works with Native American grapes, but not European. At any rate, that frown was turned upside down when that image of Tattoo popped back into my mind.
This week's entry is going to be short and sweet, for a good visual aid, just imagine Tattoo from Fantasy Island standing in a bathtub full of sweet coconut milk and hot chocolate.
Don't want to jinx any upcoming projects, so best just to avoid the subject altogether. Will say that later this week, say Thursday, Friday, expect another offering from the wine sit-com script. Also expect twice-weekly updates of note. Say Tuesday and Friday.
Tried to strike out to South Africa, but sought to avoid the big grape from over there: Pinotage, which is a mad-scientist hybrid of Pinot Noir and Cinsault. The evolution of the way various grapes would have tasted way back when and what they are now is a curious issue in the wine industry, especially since the advent of genetic testing. For instance, Zinfandel has been traced to being the love child of Primitivo, the Italian grape. Merlot and Malbec are sometimes considered just about the same grape, from a DNA perspective.
Nonetheless, a good grape vine will reflect the location where it is grown, regardless of what it's double helix tells you, and there should be parallels between the food, people, some say the music, and perhaps, who knows, even the architecture. However, with South Africa it's hard to imagine a specific identity. Still can't get my head around the concept. Wine? From Africa?
Apparently, the vineyards are among the most beautiful in the world.
The one wine sampled showed that identity point exactly. While not terribly bad, the 2005 Wolftrap is an awkward mish-mash of Syrah, Cinsault, Mourvedre and Viognier. The aroma swirls with black pepper and tastes of too much oak. It would be a challenge for any expert to taste it blind and say, "yup, that's a South African blend of red and white grapes." My guess is that they would guess South Australia Shiraz. 8.2 not for flavour, but for lacking guts. Also, it's too early for it to be on the shelves. Too tight, don't drink before 2007. Around 7.50 GBP at Oddbins.
The Glen Carlou, one of my favourite New Zealand wine producers, 2004 Tortoise Hill red is also a blend. Don't think there is Pinot Noir, but can't be sure. They didn't bother putting the info on the label. It's like the fat cats of Paarl are sitting in a smoke-filled conference room, leaning back in leather chairs, puffing on Cuban cigars, saying, "Who gives a damn what grapes are in it?"
Well, we do, and it tastes like there are about three or four varieties… most likely Syrah and Cinsault. Perhaps with some Merlot and Zinfandel, for smoothness and pepper, respectively. (Upon further research, the wine is predominately Cabernet Sauvignon, 69 percent… so big miss there. Syrah is in there, but not Cinsault, at 12.5 percent. Zinfandel and Merlot are there, at nine and four percent… but the big surprise is the Portugese bad boy Tourega Nacional fills out the rest of the bottle.) With all those grapes, it's disappointing… and, oddly, tastes South African.
Berries, fruity, oaky, tannic and tight. Yeah, Yeah, Yeah. 8.0, because I expected better. Less than 8 GBP, also at Oddbins.
Got an email from the States:
"Got 2 new bottles. Sweet Bitch from California (9.99) and Justin Vineyards Syrah Paso Robles (25.99) Both 2004. The Sweet Bitch claims "slightly sweet" however, they meant to say "sugary sweet". Almost undrinkable. We may just decide to cook with it."
Don’t do that, the dish you prepare will taste like the crappy wine. Unless you plan to make a coulis, mixed with pureed raspberry, for a cheesecake, or mix it with olive oil to make dressing for a bitter leaf salad.
He continues:
"I am looking forward to the Justin. Our local merchant tells me it's his best selling Syrah. Have you heard anything about it? I am always leery of spending $25 on an unknown. Especially one from California."
My reader was unimpressed with both choices in the end:
"That Justin Syrah 04 was similar to Coppola just twice the price. So I think we shall stick with Coppola."
Almost 35 bucks down the hole. This is especially aggravating because the reader was sold on the bottle by the merchant. Come to think of it why is American wine so expensive? Especially the more popular ones?
At any rate, next time try the Justin 'Isosceles'… it's a Meritage, rhymes with 'heritage,' the pretty Californian name for a wine made with the three main grapes of Bordeaux: Cabernets Sauvignon and Franc and Merlot. Never had a bad bottle of the stuff. Or a single bottle, for that matter. Only ever tried it at wine tastings.
Reading that the wine was too sweet brought a grimace to my face. Sugary sweetness is unpleasant in Noble varieties, it works with Native American grapes, but not European. At any rate, that frown was turned upside down when that image of Tattoo popped back into my mind.
Monday, September 18, 2006
A Visit to the Local Wine Pusher
Have any of you bothered to read the script posted earlier this week? If not keep reading after this entry.
This week continued in the theme of letting go. Wine tasting without fancy pretense. There has to be deeper, darker places to be found with this so-called luxury item. And a trip to the old neighbourhood rediscovered that grit. That true feeling of 'streetness.'
Old digs were around King's Cross. For those who don't know, the man is building a new Eurostar station there. The Waterloo berth will be 86'ed come '07. This construction coincides with all those other smoke and mirror tactics cities throw at vacant swaths of centralised land to justify the billions being spent. The old neighbourhood will soon have new malls, fake rock climbing walls, pay-per-parking stalls… all you need to call a neighbourhood clean.
The police have spent the last three years booting bums and hookers out of the King's Cross area. People who have migrated north, into the old neighbourhood. And, the local kids made sure they didn't stick around for long. Two years ago, there were near daily scenes of 12-year-olds sucker punching hobos, who would never raise their hand in protest, lest they drop their tins of souped-up lager.
Soon enough, the bums had worked their way further north, sadly to Jacob Gaffney's current neighbourhood, leaving the 12-year-olds to return to doing what they do best: stealing bikes.
Stepped off the bus. Headed to the meeting with a wine friend. Passed a group of kids. They smoke weed. The bums have their beer. For me, it's the wine. And that is what I was after.
Walked onto the housing estate where my friend lives. Out of the 80 or so dwellings, good money says he is probably the only one who rents. Sucker.
Popped round and had a chat. Lighting was dark. Music loud. He asked what I wanted. I told him I only had five pounds. He sent his girl upstairs. She came back with a bottle. 2002 Chateau Lafitte Mengin, Premieres Cotes de BORDEAUX.
"It's more than a couple of Euros," he told me, like there was a need for convincing. "Worth more than five quid at any rate."
So there must be a catch, no? "I get to try it with you," he said. Handed a thick glass. Can't taste anything with that. He looks at me, seeing what will happen. "Strong nose," is the predictable venture. A glance over to me says he's thinking that that’s obvious. And it is.
Think, think, think. Can't think with this glass! Can't get my head around it. Thankfully it's a non-smoking flat.
Run to the cupboard. Find the thinnest glass. That'll cut through the muck. Pour it in, swirl it around. Take a sip and breathe. Everything is nice now. Another sip, things get nicer. Still getting looks, thinking, thinking, there is one smell left that is aggravating and hard to place.
"Another Columbine-style shooting," shouts his girl, laptop open to Google news, "this time in Montreal." It's an old trick for a reason, this distraction, probably because it works.
Hmm. Where was I during Columbine? The mind wanders… Oh yes, working at the ABC affiliate in… WAIT! Concentrate. Focus.
Be Serious. If only for the wine's sake.
Another sip. Smell. Taste. Body. FEEL. "Good structure, body a bit heavy, but that's just the oak. Ripe fruits. Vine fruits. Blackberry mainly. Some pepper." But that one, unnamed ingredient is still nagging.
"Blair transition not going as planned," she reads, "Hizbollah claims victory in Middle East conflict." Oh yeah. She's good.
Then it hits me. Clear as day. GREEN BEANS. "Just like your grandmother used to make," I say. The comment gets a giggle. A good giggle. The same knowing laugh that the farmer's daughter slips out the side of her mouth as she sits on the fence watching her pa's animals being led to slaughter.
Feeling sheepish.
"Notable wine writer mistakes green beans for ripe fruit," is the next headline she reads. Damn, it's already online. Happens so fast. Bordeaux 8.5
My friend is more impressed. He agrees.
Time to go. What else is there for a fiver? She goes back upstairs. Rustling about, as if the wine bottles are hidden under 45 layers of taped-up bubble wrap. She hands me the 2002 Beronia Rioja. Crianza. That means it's been aged in oak a bit to mellow the tannin.
Time to say goodbye and out into the rain. The wine bottles sloshing around in my man purse. Standing at a bus stop, something doesn't feel right. Head two stops down, to the one under the overpass. Water drips on either side. A fast train carrying tired souls zips above my head. Even the shadows are intimidating. Now, this is more like it.
Once home, the Spanish Beronia is popped open. Fresh and damp. Predictable and sincere. Oaky and oompfy. With, hold the phone, that characteristic smell of dill. The euphoria washes over. The simplicity of the wine. A choice made just for me. 8.8
May be ten pounds lighter, but feeling all the more richer.
Read the script.
.
Friday, September 15, 2006
Flip the Script
Drinking the 2004 Montana Marlborough Riesling. 6 pounds at Costcutter. Not Bad, but the grape needs a cooler climate. The warmer weather has crowded out the grace and mineral structure of its superior, German counterparts. Stong tropical fruits, pineapple, melon. Light and easy, with a somewhat interesting dry finish that lasts just long enough. 8.5.
About six months ago a guy named Steve at CC Lab was interested in making the wine show. But he wanted some twists. After a few meetings we came up with a format for a wine-themed sit-com, of all things.
In this context, the wine guy would become obsessed with fame during the course of the show. His ignorance, with others correcting him, would provide the backbone for the educational aspects of the show. Reverse-wise, see?
There would be the "film crew" shooting the wine documentary. And then a real film crew filming the documentary "film crew." And then there was a lone writer, unseen, named Martin, who would be personally documenting all that happened on set with his own handheld camera.
You would hear his voice, but never see him. It would be with his handheld digicam that would document why the "show" would eventually fall to pieces, in a testament as to why wine shows never work. The final episodes were to be mish-mashed into a fast-paced, laugh-riddled choatic mess that was supposed to be new and groud-breaking... and, hopefully, award-winning.
So it would be a sit-com about making a wine and travel show, that eventually failed. Or would it?
I wrote the pilot episode and it was never taped. Hate to see it go to waste so here is the first installment.
Anyone out there need a writer for a sit-com, give us a shout: jacobgaffney@yahoo.co.uk
The rest of you enjoy, but, there are still some grammar errors as this was a first draft.
Interwined: episode 1 (note: maybe start every episode with someone involved in the debacle giving some sort of exasperated apology)
Scene opens on older man, grey hair, very proper. He is identified by a label that appears on screen: "Sir Terrance Worthington-Hume, Creative Director, BBC"
TWH: I don't think anyone expected it, how could we? We had finally burst that old bubble, we thought to ourselves. I remember even a sort of celebration took place that evening. We cheered each other and said, "we finally found a formula that works." It was a very exciting time, I remember. I for one, at least was very enthusiastic at the principle that it would be a success, become a success, and carry on for several many seasons.
Fade Out/Fade In
TWH: No, we never saw it coming, except perhaps Martin. We had thought a young handsome man, not too bright of course, could learn… and by doing so others would learn with him and follow and so on and so forth. But when I think what happened [pause, shaking head slightly] not just to those we were force to make redundant because of this… [Really beginning to break down] but those who were… there… with him… I just… [Tears up] Those poor, poor people.
Fade Out to Black
Audio up of Jacob speaking, hustling bustling set-up of camera crew…
Open to Jacob standing in front of a random vineyard, leaning on a trellis of vines yielding ripe grapes… the shot is from Camera 1, beautiful shot.
We hear "Action."
Jacob: Trellising the vine is necessary in vinification for several reasons. For one the grapes [motioning to grapes], need to be hung out to ripen in such a way that the sun hits it from as many angles as possible ensuring a nice even development of the grape's sugars and acids to create a wine as harmonious as two toads playing piggyback and leapfrogging on the farm…
We hear "Cut"
Switch to Camera 2, a cheaper look. It is shooting from the eye-perspective of one sitting down. It is someone's video diary of the event in scene. We see Jacob in front of the camera, as well as Director David Toba and his crew…
Jacob: I'm sorry, what just happened?
David: Jacob, I know we just started cracking on, but you need to stick to script. [Looking at script]
Jacob: Oh yeah, I'm nervous, maybe if I can see myself, what I look like real quick [stutters to sound man] can you set up some rushes or something…
David: He's sound, so he can't. [David faces camera 2] Martin can you come over here? [Camera 2 raises, goes over to tighten in on Jacob and David, David turns to Jacob] Listen. It says, 'as harmonious as a perfectly balanced scale.' See?
Jacob: [to runner, off screen] butt me. [He is given a cigarette, already lit, placed in mouth by anonymous hand]
David:[Looking at script] You outstretch both arms and add 'on one side perfect levels of sugar, on the other perfect levels of acid, just one tip in any direction can throw the taste off.'
Jacob: But the two toads, you don't think?
David: That makes no sense.
Jacob: Have you ever seen two toads leapfrogging on a [David's expression changes] Ha-ha, just kidding. Of course we will do it this way, Martin's way, your way. Fine. Let's do it. Sorry everyone, just getting my grounding… my terroiring as the French would say…
[Camera two goes back to sit, everyone in place and David says "Action"]
Cut back to the pristine shot of camera 1
Jacob: Trellising the vine is necessary in vinification for several reasons. For one the grapes [motioning to grapes], need to be hung out to ripen in such a way that the sun hits it from as many angles as possible ensuring a nice even development of the grape's sugars and acids to create a wine as harmonious as… [Jacob gets distracted by something behind the crew…] what the… [Walks out of shot]
David: Oh, for the love of…
ROLL INTERWINED INTRODUCTION
About six months ago a guy named Steve at CC Lab was interested in making the wine show. But he wanted some twists. After a few meetings we came up with a format for a wine-themed sit-com, of all things.
In this context, the wine guy would become obsessed with fame during the course of the show. His ignorance, with others correcting him, would provide the backbone for the educational aspects of the show. Reverse-wise, see?
There would be the "film crew" shooting the wine documentary. And then a real film crew filming the documentary "film crew." And then there was a lone writer, unseen, named Martin, who would be personally documenting all that happened on set with his own handheld camera.
You would hear his voice, but never see him. It would be with his handheld digicam that would document why the "show" would eventually fall to pieces, in a testament as to why wine shows never work. The final episodes were to be mish-mashed into a fast-paced, laugh-riddled choatic mess that was supposed to be new and groud-breaking... and, hopefully, award-winning.
So it would be a sit-com about making a wine and travel show, that eventually failed. Or would it?
I wrote the pilot episode and it was never taped. Hate to see it go to waste so here is the first installment.
Anyone out there need a writer for a sit-com, give us a shout: jacobgaffney@yahoo.co.uk
The rest of you enjoy, but, there are still some grammar errors as this was a first draft.
Interwined: episode 1 (note: maybe start every episode with someone involved in the debacle giving some sort of exasperated apology)
Scene opens on older man, grey hair, very proper. He is identified by a label that appears on screen: "Sir Terrance Worthington-Hume, Creative Director, BBC"
TWH: I don't think anyone expected it, how could we? We had finally burst that old bubble, we thought to ourselves. I remember even a sort of celebration took place that evening. We cheered each other and said, "we finally found a formula that works." It was a very exciting time, I remember. I for one, at least was very enthusiastic at the principle that it would be a success, become a success, and carry on for several many seasons.
Fade Out/Fade In
TWH: No, we never saw it coming, except perhaps Martin. We had thought a young handsome man, not too bright of course, could learn… and by doing so others would learn with him and follow and so on and so forth. But when I think what happened [pause, shaking head slightly] not just to those we were force to make redundant because of this… [Really beginning to break down] but those who were… there… with him… I just… [Tears up] Those poor, poor people.
Fade Out to Black
Audio up of Jacob speaking, hustling bustling set-up of camera crew…
Open to Jacob standing in front of a random vineyard, leaning on a trellis of vines yielding ripe grapes… the shot is from Camera 1, beautiful shot.
We hear "Action."
Jacob: Trellising the vine is necessary in vinification for several reasons. For one the grapes [motioning to grapes], need to be hung out to ripen in such a way that the sun hits it from as many angles as possible ensuring a nice even development of the grape's sugars and acids to create a wine as harmonious as two toads playing piggyback and leapfrogging on the farm…
We hear "Cut"
Switch to Camera 2, a cheaper look. It is shooting from the eye-perspective of one sitting down. It is someone's video diary of the event in scene. We see Jacob in front of the camera, as well as Director David Toba and his crew…
Jacob: I'm sorry, what just happened?
David: Jacob, I know we just started cracking on, but you need to stick to script. [Looking at script]
Jacob: Oh yeah, I'm nervous, maybe if I can see myself, what I look like real quick [stutters to sound man] can you set up some rushes or something…
David: He's sound, so he can't. [David faces camera 2] Martin can you come over here? [Camera 2 raises, goes over to tighten in on Jacob and David, David turns to Jacob] Listen. It says, 'as harmonious as a perfectly balanced scale.' See?
Jacob: [to runner, off screen] butt me. [He is given a cigarette, already lit, placed in mouth by anonymous hand]
David:[Looking at script] You outstretch both arms and add 'on one side perfect levels of sugar, on the other perfect levels of acid, just one tip in any direction can throw the taste off.'
Jacob: But the two toads, you don't think?
David: That makes no sense.
Jacob: Have you ever seen two toads leapfrogging on a [David's expression changes] Ha-ha, just kidding. Of course we will do it this way, Martin's way, your way. Fine. Let's do it. Sorry everyone, just getting my grounding… my terroiring as the French would say…
[Camera two goes back to sit, everyone in place and David says "Action"]
Cut back to the pristine shot of camera 1
Jacob: Trellising the vine is necessary in vinification for several reasons. For one the grapes [motioning to grapes], need to be hung out to ripen in such a way that the sun hits it from as many angles as possible ensuring a nice even development of the grape's sugars and acids to create a wine as harmonious as… [Jacob gets distracted by something behind the crew…] what the… [Walks out of shot]
David: Oh, for the love of…
ROLL INTERWINED INTRODUCTION
Monday, September 11, 2006
On the Serious Tip
Need some help. Have an 'issue' that needs advice, either respond on this board or send me an email:
jacob.gaffney@yahoo.co.uk
It's SERIOUS.
A quick stop in Portugal and you can see how wine is a direct reflection of the people. At least, in the Old World (Europe). Fine wines represent the golden elite. Trash wine is for the hobos. Table wines are for people like you and me, and show you and me what table wine people can be like over there.
Hmm. As my director often says, 'Jacob, that makes absolutely no sense.'
Like their modestly priced wines, the Portugese are a particularly peculiar people. One bottling, the 2004 Portal de Aquia contained four grapes: Tinta Roriz, Castelao, Syrah and Alicante Bouschet. As far as we are concerned, that makes them the clown car of the luxurious circus that is the wine industry. How many more grapes can we cram in there?
Imagine seeing a California bottling with Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot on the label. Well, in Napa Valley, they call that a 'Meritage.' In France, it's called Bordeaux. In Portugal, who gives a crap if you don't know what it's called?
The wine was thin, rusty, musty and seemed like it was reclining in the shade, instead of working in the field. Lazy bugger. 8.0
On the other hand, the 2004 Quinta Vista -- Castelao, Tinta Miuda, Camarate -- was around the same price, 5 pounds. But it was a different wine altogether. Juicy, pleasant with hints of overcooked caramel. And guess what? It tastes like wine! No identity problems here. Straight shooter. 8.6
Admittedly, knowledge on Portugese wines is sparse over here at Interwined. And with grape names such as Tinta No Comprenda, that climate is unlikely to change.
Now the serious issue. ABC recently announced a re-edit of its series on the September 11 attacks. Five years ago today. Little has happened in lower Manhattan, but plenty has happened in journalism. Although Clinton signed in the Telecommunications Act and appeared to be a great supporter of free speech, his administration is attempting to order a change of the ABC dramatized account of events leading up to that tragic moment when our lives changed forever.
IDEA: Next time you're making a cup of tea, don’t brew by the clock or by the color, instead brew by the SMELL. Keep sniffing at that bag floating in the hot water until it stinks like a perfectly brewed cupa. Apply to other forms of food preparation where necessary.
Now, Jacob Gaffney has been called some pretty nasty names before. After one conversation with John de Luca, then president of a California wine trade group, Jacob Gaffney actually had to look up some of the terms de Luca used in reference to his work. 'Pugnacious' seems to stand out most.
But, attempting direct manipulation of the press was never the norm. The climate, even in wine writing, is changing and Jacob Gaffney needs your help.
After an interview with a Lebanese wine producer on their decision to pull out of a 'Peace Tasting,' an email hit the inbox. Read it here:
Dear Jacob
Thanks to you too – on 2nd and rather alarming thoughts, you still cannot print anything about the Lebanese / Israeli tasting postponement. It’s still too soon.
I cannot be quoted and prefer not to say anything on this matter, the situation is still too sensitive and I would never want to be responsible for anything that happens to our dear friends in the Bekaa Valley.
This has just been confirmed to me from Lebanon and silence is the preferred option at the moment.
Please can you either cancel your piece regarding this or at the very least delay it until the climate is more favourable.
Peoples lives and livelihoods are far more important than a journalistic piece!
Thanks for your kind understanding and let’s speak again into September when we have further information about the 2006 harvest.
Kind regards
XXXX
Now, was this person being bossy? Or was he/she seriously telling a journalist not to 'follow the blood'? Is it possible that people lives would be endangered with such a piece and is yours truly over-blowing the issue? Or do you wish to tell Jacob Gaffney that 'the wine industry is nothing like the real news, in the real world, you self-important little prick!'
Give us your thoughts.
Thursday, September 07, 2006
Two Recommendations
This kills me. After complaining about supermarket Sainsbury's coming out with a 'Taste the Difference' line of wines, and slamming its Cabernet, a bottle of the TTD Pinot Grigio was on-sale for under five pounds. Grassy, crisp and clean. Like a New Zealand Sauvignon, but with out the melon, tropical friuts, etc. One of the best wines for the price. Unbelievably. How can the little guy compete when the big guy has gotten it all right?
My friend, a fine Italian wine importer, tried the wine, without knowing its origin. He guessed it was Pinot Grigio and gave a similar response as above. We spoke briefly about how Pinot Grigio needs to be controlled, in terms of yields. Grow to many grapes and the resultng wine is the watered-down pulpy dry mess Italian restaurants throw at you.
Then he added that he had tried five Pinot Grigios this week and this one was the best. When I revealed it was produced by a faceless grocery chain, we both groaned, then took another sip. 8.9
At Budgens, for under five pounds, is the Da Luca Merlot/Primitivo blend (Primitivo is basically Zinfandel's ancestor, and is remarkably similar). It does not have a vintage, so the grapes come from multiple years, and it is an 'Indicazione Geografica Tipica,' or from a typical, but not special, Italian region, in this case Tarantino (a little wine from Taranto, related to the Hollywood director). Apulia, hot and Southern.
It's a blockbuster, just like many of Quentin's movies. Also, no grace, strong in will and sometimes surprising, but with a big finish. It is a heavy, clumsy, large wine and it tastes great. 8.9.
My friend, a fine Italian wine importer, tried the wine, without knowing its origin. He guessed it was Pinot Grigio and gave a similar response as above. We spoke briefly about how Pinot Grigio needs to be controlled, in terms of yields. Grow to many grapes and the resultng wine is the watered-down pulpy dry mess Italian restaurants throw at you.
Then he added that he had tried five Pinot Grigios this week and this one was the best. When I revealed it was produced by a faceless grocery chain, we both groaned, then took another sip. 8.9
At Budgens, for under five pounds, is the Da Luca Merlot/Primitivo blend (Primitivo is basically Zinfandel's ancestor, and is remarkably similar). It does not have a vintage, so the grapes come from multiple years, and it is an 'Indicazione Geografica Tipica,' or from a typical, but not special, Italian region, in this case Tarantino (a little wine from Taranto, related to the Hollywood director). Apulia, hot and Southern.
It's a blockbuster, just like many of Quentin's movies. Also, no grace, strong in will and sometimes surprising, but with a big finish. It is a heavy, clumsy, large wine and it tastes great. 8.9.
Monday, September 04, 2006
A Tale of Two Parties
It was the best of times..
The first party. A posh North London flat. A guy in the wine biz invited me to his son's fifth birthday. More adults then children, but drinking was still secondary. A wine and Pimm's crowd. The party wine was a 2003 Premiere Bordeaux Chateau Haut Rian.
A bit thin, not notable. Light airy, aloof, like many at a party. Little oak, less earth. Slight aroma of berries, mainly black, and that is about it. 8.2 points. Perfect for a party. Easy drinking, inexpensive red. Didn't complain of course, yet the host said 'this one's for you.'
Lovely to be special. A bottling from Austria. Forgot the vintage. Made mainly from a grape called St. Laurent. Also Merlot, Zwigelt. Cool climes for cool times. Given my own Riedel glass for a proper tasting. Word is spreading.
Seemed a bit bland at first. Let it breathe. The strong tartness gave way to sublime bitterness. Dig the dark chocolate. The wine found it's soul when finally set free. Almost desperate to impress. Excellent. 8.9.
The second party served spirits. Clear liquids bubbling in plastic cups while drinkers pretend to enjoy chatting and, deep inside, wish to burst out their skin. Wasn't invited to this one, a few houses down. Neighbors.
Drank a bottle of Montepulciano di Abruzzo from Marks and Spencer. 8 pounds. Italian wine is a minefield. Montepulciano, for example, was the grape used in the wine from Abruzzo. However, Montepulciano is also a town in Tuscany, which makes Vino Nobile. Made from Sangiovese. Huh? What's that? Make sense. Please.
Went to sleep with bass thumping from doors down. Everyone needs to unwind, especially in this city. But then, around two a.m. the sound of drunken laughter as a game of soccer was starting in front of my door. One thing you can count on is that spirits drinkers always cross the line.
Jumped out of bed, Montepulciano boiling. Flung open the door. No one there. They had gone, thank god. But wait, where's my daughter's football.
My daughter's football.
Stolen.
Red wine flows into my eyes,seeing only red. That's taking the piss.
Dressed only in boxers and my Japanese fighting stick, my jo, resting in my hand. Took a walk to the neighbors. About 30 eastern Europeans, kicking up a storm, and somewhere inside, kicking around my daughter's football. It's the principle of the thing.
Montepulciano tells me he can take the spirits drinkers. They're out their heads, they are as tasteless and cold as the liquor stagnating in their dixie cups. Well, if wine has my back...
But how to begin. Shall I impress them with my vast knowledge of alcoholic beverages and how they are wasting their time with such rotten fire water? Shall the shirtless, shoeless stick-holder play the stereotypical American by shouting, "We saved your asses from the Germans, and this is how you repay us?"
Montepulciano whispers an obvious out in my ear, 'pretend you're sleepwalking.' Hell. It worked.
Pride is that feeling whose price fluctuates greatest on the stock exchange of human emotions.
"An intruder stole my daughter's football and I happen to be sleepwalking." Pride 100 points. The response: "No football here," Pride 50 points.
Started walking away and a woman shouts, "we love your little shorts," pride 0 points. Even the overseas investors are starting to bail.
Make a joke, says Montepulciano. "Thank you, I only wear them to sleep in, so consider you noisemakers lucky." Pride declays bankrupcy.
Then, as the beaten wine drinker shuffles off, low and behold, a spirits drinker gives him an out. "What do you think you're going to do with that little baseball bat?"
Wine drinker turns around. Montepulciano is not pleased. We both had decided to walk away. Spirits drinkers.
"It's not a bat, it's a jo, a Japanese fighting stick," Montepulciano yells through the wine drinker's throat, making wine drinker's muscles flex and making, at that moment, moonlight shimmer across his red-stained teeth. "And if you want to see how it works, then we'll show you. Come here."
Spirits drinkers run for cover, stash themselves in their house. Pride 50 points.
The next morning Montepulciano is gone without a trace. Didn't even leave a telephone number. Drank all the milk on the way out to boot. Italian wines are all the same.
Open the front door and there it is. My daughter's football, set atop my doorstep.
Wine drinker's pride, 100 points.
Spirits drinkers, Zero.
Well, as my dear old mum used to say, "If crazy sells, then this family would be drowning in cash."
EDITOR'S NOTE: No animals were harmed in the writting of this blog.
Thursday, August 31, 2006
About Last Night...
Speaking engagement. Islington Conservative Party.
About 25 people, many who were serious wine drinkers who would say things like, "I'm not a serious wine drinker, but I believe by blending the Inzolia with Chardonnay, the winemaker has achieved a crisper type of white, whilst retaining it's traditional Chardonnay profile."
IDEA: If you join the Conservative Party, then you can attend wine talks with Jacob Gaffney. Note: Jacob Gaffney is not a member of the Islington Conservative Party. In fact, he can't even vote.
Real wine drinkers. Test the water. While trying the Cefalicchio Chardonnay from a Biodynamic consortium in Puglia, declared that the wine smelled like steamed bananas... expected someone to shout, "you're bananas." But the only return fire was nodding heads of agreement. Real wine drinkers.
Aufidus 2004 proved to be the star. Not organic, but rustic. Winemaker tried to imitate a Roman-style wine. Swords and sandals to pair with rape and pillaging. A robust, rustic wine, like drinking a farm. Smelled of manure, which some people didn't like, for some reason, and wet leaves. Someone yelled, "Wet Autumn Leaves." The reply shot back from me: "Wet Autumn leaves that fell in the moonlight." Laughter. They knew I was joking.
Or was I?
Last week went up for a role in '28 weeks later,' the sequel to '28 days later.' The infected still rule England, save for a four-block area of London called District One. Protected by American soldiers. Casting was in character, talking to a reporter about being assigned to District One. Said Iraq was a more dangerous place to work. Said my wife didn't approve. Said shooting zombies best part of the job.
Acting work a bit dry, starting to get dehydrated.
About 25 people, many who were serious wine drinkers who would say things like, "I'm not a serious wine drinker, but I believe by blending the Inzolia with Chardonnay, the winemaker has achieved a crisper type of white, whilst retaining it's traditional Chardonnay profile."
IDEA: If you join the Conservative Party, then you can attend wine talks with Jacob Gaffney. Note: Jacob Gaffney is not a member of the Islington Conservative Party. In fact, he can't even vote.
Real wine drinkers. Test the water. While trying the Cefalicchio Chardonnay from a Biodynamic consortium in Puglia, declared that the wine smelled like steamed bananas... expected someone to shout, "you're bananas." But the only return fire was nodding heads of agreement. Real wine drinkers.
Aufidus 2004 proved to be the star. Not organic, but rustic. Winemaker tried to imitate a Roman-style wine. Swords and sandals to pair with rape and pillaging. A robust, rustic wine, like drinking a farm. Smelled of manure, which some people didn't like, for some reason, and wet leaves. Someone yelled, "Wet Autumn Leaves." The reply shot back from me: "Wet Autumn leaves that fell in the moonlight." Laughter. They knew I was joking.
Or was I?
Last week went up for a role in '28 weeks later,' the sequel to '28 days later.' The infected still rule England, save for a four-block area of London called District One. Protected by American soldiers. Casting was in character, talking to a reporter about being assigned to District One. Said Iraq was a more dangerous place to work. Said my wife didn't approve. Said shooting zombies best part of the job.
Acting work a bit dry, starting to get dehydrated.
Monday, August 28, 2006
A Matter of Taste
The Fox Network hates wine blogs. And rightfully so. They are the dullest things, put together by people who seem to feel empowered by the fact that they can drink wine and wow the world by telling you exactly what they think it tastes like. Some skill.
Come to think of it, what's with all this 'I,' 'I,' 'I'?
Is there some commandment in the wine-blog bible that says 'Thou shalt write wine reviews like the dairy entries of a ten-year old,'?
"I woke up this morning with a headache, could be hay fever, but I thinks it’s the Cono Sur Pinot Noir from LAST NIGHT, LOL! I had another bottle for breakfast, then I took a ride to Vinopolis on a London bus that, finally, didn't smell like French fries and farts."
Interwined is different. The name suggests a connectivity between the beverage and life. And so it is so. After the panning of wine blogs by Fox news, a look at the competition was necessary. Most herald themselves as "independent" wine reviewers. However, the wines they review are free samples.
So, if they drink a free Cono Sur Pinot Noir (It's not bad, but not nearly as good as some blogs would have you believe) then they've saved five pounds on wine that night. In essence, it's like the winery forking over the fiver directly. Nonsense. Why don't you buy the wine you feel like drinking? Not the ones where someone tells you "Your readers need to hear about this!"
Wish someone would give me free wine.
Interwined recounts the wines, purchased, over the course of the week. If the wine is memorable, for whatever reason, it gets noted.
Come to think of it, Interwined also lacks that fundamental wine review tool: a ratings system. The New York Times recently dissed the 100-point scale invented by Parker and employed by Wine Spectator. But they missed the allure of 100-points.
Since the vast majority readers of this blog happen to be teachers… or, at least at one point, have been taught, you know the allure of scoring 100 is a sweet and convincing draw. It means 'doing well', even if the grade was under-deserved. You all know that, at one point in your lives, you gave that underperforming bully a passing grade on more than one occasion -- or got one yourselves.
To quantify a quality. One comment to this post asked why review wine and why not taste test Gatorade.
Gatorade, of course, tastes consistent and that's its draw. Sweaty throngs in soaked t-shirts on the 1st avenue basketball court swirling and sniffing sports drinks is… well… a scene from a movie we'd all like to watch. The draw of wine is one that is incumbent within the prospect of expecting taste. And it works for so many other things.
For instance, organic milk. Like wine, the treatment of the cows, say, what it eats, affects the flavour. A review by this column found Rachel's organic milk placed in dead last, when compared to other brands, with little expression of the cow's personal characteristics. Other than the Moo, of course.
Top of the line was a surprise. Yeo Valley beat out Dutchy originals, although the latter costs twice as much. But then Yeo valley tastes like a creamy glob of grass crammed into a jar. There may be room yet for another milk blog on the net, but, as far as that subject is concerned, the Amish are years ahead of us…
Perhaps if the blog was peppered with neat little ideas, its allure will be enhanced.
IDEA: Need crushed ice for that high society cocktail party? Simply pour sparkling water in an ice tray and freeze. Once frozen, pop out the cubes, which shatter into a thousand pieces. Wrap in a cloth and bash. Open cloth. Behold, ten thousand pieces.
Speaking of which, in an independent tasting of sparkling mineral waters, Ballygowen came last, San Pellegrino did well, close to the top. But the yellow jersey went to Badoit, from the Loire. Rare that it is a natural sparkler, no carbon added, but rarer still that the bubbles aren't obtrusive. Smooth, flinty and solid. And priced like it knows it. Nearly double the others.
Then there are the wine bloggers who spend three paragraphs on one wine. Three paragraphs. By the time you get to reading about the unctuous nuances of some sesquipedalian Sauvignon, you begin to think, 'hey, this guy is WASTED.'
The new Interwined ratings systems will be based on ten…the 100-point system needs to be simplified. Something simpler and not as confusing for the masses. So, from now one, that's a ten if the wine is perfect, a five if it gets the job done and a score of one if it makes me angry. But no zeroes, because at least they turned their work in.
To be thorough, though, the ratings system will be to the tenth decimal point.
IDEA: Have you done your very best today to promote www.interwined.com as the best wine blog ever?
Penfolds Organic blend is a tidy number, £9. After a week of disappointing Australians, finally a glimmer of hope. Ripe fruits, smooth texture, little overt sweetness and a pleasing, yet short, finish. It used to be £7, but as its popularity grows, so will the price tag. 8.7
Got an email from a friend explaining that Australians keep the good wines for themselves, and export the junk to us. Most countries do this, notably the United States, where it would be difficult to find a decent American offering under ten. In London the prices hover around £6.
The Aussies further distinguish themselves by continuing to make a large amount of junk, which they think they can sell, and may yet, when it should be thrown away. This is based on large government subsidies to grape growers and so on. The EU is also experiencing the same problem. An MP in Glasgow has a bill in the House of Commons to get all the left-over wine in Europe distributed for free to his elderly constituents. He is sick of the urban poor paying taxes to support the rural rich, he told me. He is not a big wine drinker, but more like a big wine thinker.
The head of Simeon wines in Australia, David Clarke, last week told his shareholders that the wines all producers currently have in storage, but can't sell, won't be gone until 2009. Three years to sell the wines they've already made. The company posted an AUS$11.55 million loss for the year ending June 2006. Snowball that idea and some 2010 vintages will still be around in 2015. Thes are wines that should be drunk sooner than later.
The 2004 Grove Mill Sauvignon Blanc is a stunner, £7. Good with anything, even spicy sausage. Tropical fruits on the nose. Dry finish, light on the tongue. Two days later, the wine had mellowed to being almost buttery. It was smoother than Brazilian legs during Carnival. 8.5
2001 was not so good for California and Bonterra's Cabernet from that year shows it. Watery and thin, little identity, no wonder many bottles of it are available to buy now. Though it's not a complete wash-up. It was drinkable as a table wine. Serve with dinner. 7.7
Same for 2004 Valdevieso Merlot. It holds it own, but can't hold your attention. 7.7
The 'Taste the Difference' 2003 Connawarra Cabernet from grocer Sainsbury's, was on sale for half-off, £4. Odd, the wine is brand new, but its 'normal' price is listed at around £8, when it was never available before. This smacks of a corporate direct marketing selling technique, but the wine was aptly named. The difference tasted was that the wine was closer to liquor in terms of alcohol content. The fumes alone are flammable. Hard to taste anything else when a wine is pimped out with so much silly sauce. A day later, ripe fruits, mainly blackberry, tinge of oak, still strong. Price was right though. Eight pounds would be a joke. 7.0
Finally the 2003 Heartland Petit Verdot from the Limestone Coast of Australia. Poor Petit Verdot can't hold its own in Bordeaux. It's mainly used to add aroma while toning down the strength of the Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc and Merlots grown there.
Didn't you know most Bordeaux are blends? Two other grapes are rarely used, so those are the big four. Whites will see Sauvignon Blanc, Semillion and sometimes Muscadelle. Burgundy will with be Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. Want more on France, just ask.
jacob.gaffney@yahoo.co.uk
The Heartland gave off wild aromas violets, black cherry but still very rustic, like an old leather belt that will never give up holding onto pants. Also a bit of rust and a hint of mint. But, the label threw me. It was a picture of a shovel plowing, by lantern light, into what appeared to be a steaming pile of steamy little rocks. It's as if the winemaker moonlights in the fabled dung mines of the Naracoorte Caves. 8.9 points, mainly for controlling a late harvest grape most people won't bother with.
Insert BIG FINISH here.
Thursday, August 24, 2006
The Tank Man
A quick note: I will be voicing some characters on today's afternoon play, The Tank Man, on BBCs Radio Four.
The Tank Man
Enjoy.
The Tank Man
Enjoy.
Wednesday, August 23, 2006
A Question of Taste Bud Marketing
After publishing the Tea Time blog, an email hit my inbox (jacob.gaffney@yahoo.co.uk) from one of my sources. After interviewing Matthew Brown of Echo Chamber, a company that spies on businesses for other business, for an article for Wine Spectator, he then read my entry, and responded. I have always told people, that when I'm wrong, I will say so and Matt says there are, in fact, decent Tea merchants in this world, and argues that Twinings is simply providing a product made to the specifications of their consumer. Fair enough. Thank you, Matt.
Here is what Brown had to say:
Like the blog – good fun to read – love the trailer too – very high production values and you come across really well – I’d love to see the full thing on telly.
As for your rant about Twinings tea conformity – take a look at my review of T2 Tea Too in Australia –
http://www.echochamber.com/secure/outofworldmain.asp
T2 is a fantastic chain store that sells only loose leaf teas, and revels in the varieties, inconsistencies and ‘vintages’
This ties into two trends we talk about – ‘Authetiseeking’ and ‘Anti-Big’ (anti corporate and anti homogenous) So it just goes to show that there is a market for every taste!
Hope we can hook up for a drink when I get back from Dallas
M
Here is what Brown had to say:
Like the blog – good fun to read – love the trailer too – very high production values and you come across really well – I’d love to see the full thing on telly.
As for your rant about Twinings tea conformity – take a look at my review of T2 Tea Too in Australia –
http://www.echochamber.com/secure/outofworldmain.asp
T2 is a fantastic chain store that sells only loose leaf teas, and revels in the varieties, inconsistencies and ‘vintages’
This ties into two trends we talk about – ‘Authetiseeking’ and ‘Anti-Big’ (anti corporate and anti homogenous) So it just goes to show that there is a market for every taste!
Hope we can hook up for a drink when I get back from Dallas
M
Monday, August 21, 2006
Tea Time for Vin de Table
There will always be Grange. DRC. The hard-hitters down Napa-way. These wines, and countless others in the super-premium market, will always have a name, a face, good years with the bad -- an element apparent when price tags are slapped on bottles.
And there will always be Vin de Table, that daily drinkable that ends up every night on dinner tables across the world. It is those wines, those average-joe offerings wine producers present to us that this column is devoted to. Think typically £5 to £10 per bottle.
Critics fill novels with information on how to best spend your tenner. Books which spend more time gracing the grimy surfaces of coffee tables and the rarely dusted Ikea 'Bonde' book cases, than in the hands of serious daily wine drinkers.
These are wines, granted, that are rarely noteworthy. In fact, all the wines sampled this week had not a single word written, until this moment. Summed up here, the Marks and Sparks white Burgundy 2004 and San Tommasi 'Giani' Sicilian white, both served at a friend's finally-off-of-probation celebration. Both were good bargains, excellent and crisp. Both were served cold and felt proper, and tasted too similar, coming not only from different countries, different climates and different soils.
Also, three nights were devoted to Bonterra Organic 2004 Shiraz Carignan Sangiovese. All three bottles were great, with or without food, fresh and clean. But, a greater point was that two bottles tasted exactly the same, but the third, same year and perhaps shipped on the same crate, tasted distinctly different. For whatever reason, this one tasted a bit rusty, with a slight hint of earth. This later lulled and flavours further diminished. I love it. Micheal Laroche once complained that he opened a case of one of his wines and found twelve different tastes.
Laroche may feel frustrated by inconsistent flavours, but I call it character.
Now, about the show, several prospects are up in the air this week. I will wait until 'it' happens, or likely doesn't happen, before filling you in.
Instead, an anecdote. The Times Foodie-at-large, Tony Turnbull, devoted his weekly column to the hard-working Tea tasters at Twinnings brew HQ. According to Turnbull, the team taste 700 blends a week, taken from up to 27,000 different tins, in order to achieve a consistent flavour year in and year out.
Head tongue, Jeremy Sturges, explained that tea leaves are an agricultural product, with flavours varying greatly, even from plantation to plantation, depending on weather, harvest time, whatever. (Beginning to sound familiar?)
Their job is to sip and spit until they come up with a formula to get that morning nip of English Breakfast tasting the same, literally for your entire life, regardless of what went down on the farm. This is true, and even though each tea has a character, an identity, a fact Twinnings could care less about, presumably each tea ultimately ends up entirely drinkable.
However, I doubt Sturges has spent any nights with someone holding back his hair, while he spews up his guts after a heavy night of binge drinking a bad batch of Lapsang Souchong. 27,000 tins, each one different, yet forced together in a factory, in order to taste the same. (Said hyperbole and non sequitur is intended to vindicate Twinings and its employees from any wrongdoing and, thusly, nullifies any future-filed libel lawsuits.)
Also,Turnbull admits he "never realised tea-making was so complicated." Insert a volcano like rage into my skull now. But, not that it's our JOBS to know everything beverage-related. Equally shameful, years ago, I selected the tea service for Le Pavillion hotel in New Orleans. Back then, I could pick you as a Darjeeling freak or an Assam junkie by the moment you sat down and begged for scones. But I still, likewise, had no idea.
Good tea-making, as Turnbull now realises, is so complicated because it aims to destroy the very essence of Tea. Ironic. Tragic.
The same is happening to wine.
Presumably, tea merchants from years back – Turnbull's text marks 300 years for Twinings -- would offer the different types of teas available, depending on available sources. Today, the concept of selling vintage teas to me is as exciting as it is unlikely to ever happen again. Imagine stepping into a tea merchant, the bell on the door chiming your entrance, and as the dear old tradesman in the back shuffles to take your order, your senses are overwhelmed with the finest brews from China and India. "Care to try the 2006 Lady Grey, sir? Just in, blended with the finest biodynamic oranges handpicked by a thousand shoeless orphans?" Not going to happen.
Ditto for vino. At least at the cheaper end. Big producers are consolidating, marketing, moving quickly, in order to create consistent wines year in and year out. It's is a solid corporate business model, as we see with Twinings.
Prepare. Wine shops with two categories are coming: old world and new world. The former being, if we are luckily, separated by country, the latter, by grape -- as it pretty much is already. All other opinions don't really matter, and probably, have even less merit.
Think about it. I have, and that is why, this week, I don't find this column amusing. Not even one bit.
Monday, August 14, 2006
Down Under
Last week focused on Cabernet, with some harsh words directed at the cheaper-end of Australian producers. Not fair. This week takes a look at more Australian buys from between the £5 and £7 pound mark. Primarily Shiraz, that great Australia grape: peppery, bold, cocky even… well maybe not, but still very self-assured.
There is this rule of thumb in the wine trade, that blends tend to taste better. By using Shiraz as the backbone, winemakers may add Merlot, for elegance, or more Cabernet, for added rustic flavour. With this in mind, I headed to my local Costcutter corner grocery store to check the selection. More in a few paras…
Today, my friends, was a day of complete rejection, capping a week of almost daily, brutal kicks to the crotch. Last week began typically enough. The weather in England returned to gray, and not a moment to soon, all of the sunshine was beginning to make me angry. Yes, a nice steady drizzle is the type of summer that is all the rage in London these days.
I also went up for a rather humiliating casting -- as a spokesman for frozen meatballs, sold in Turkey. I don't speak Turkish, and, apparently I also can't fake eating, and tremendously enjoying, a frozen meatball. I also had a casting as the lead in indie Brit Flick '3366.' The director said that the part of my performance he enjoyed most was my choice of footwear. Baby blue crocs, baby. (He was noticeably wearing navy blue crocs, how gauche.)
In the mail I received a letter that was so thin, it may as well have had the word 'REJECTION' written in bold, right next to the 'air mail' stamp. It was from Banyan Productions, a Canadian outfit that provides a great deal of content to the Travel Channel. It was signed by Nicole Maxwell, in Development. I won't say much about what the letter said, except it that it probably took longer to type my address than the actual body of text.
I also pitched a Duero travel piece to the fantastic American Express-owned magazine, Travel + Leisure, only to find out they wrote a similar piece a few months ago. Also, I was told to lay off the wine-travel stories as one of my former freelance colleagues had landed that sweet and enviable position of Wine and Spirits Editor at the magazine. I guess I could write a travel piece on the best way to get to the bottom of a bottle.
That last line probably went a little too far.
Back to Australia.
This will be brief. After taking Monday and Tuesday off from the sauce, I returned with a renewed vigor. Ready to tackle the average Ozzie vin de table. I started with, and these are all 2004, a Shiraz Merlot blend… I'm reluctant to name names here. But it's a big producer (aren't they all from down under?) Initially it tasted a bit rusty, unpleasant, but after an hour or so, it became decent enough to drink. The alcohol levels in these wine seem almost purposefully jacked-up, as if a nice buzz will make you forget your worries as well as the lazy winemaking. The bottle was left unfinished.
Then it was a Shiraz-Viogner. Not a typical blend, but still remarkable similar to the previous evening. Again, not finished. It also burned my throat. What are they thinking? That stuff hurts, man. I then tasted another blend, the next night. I'm getting in too deep with this. Over my head… Speaking of heads, the next night, I drank a Yalumba. You see, for me, a true wine should give the drinker a ironic feeling. A contradiction where the wine washes away the stress of the day, and relaxes, whilst still enabling the drinker to feel invigorated and alive. No, this wine… this wine… just made me feel WEIRD. The next day, my head hurt.
I capped the Australia tour with a Rosemount 100 percent Shiraz. Frankly, I shuttered when I took it off the shelf. Maybe it was feeling the eyes of the shopkeeper on my back as if to say 'you sure have been drinking a lot this week.' But, mainly it was the label. The label was shouting 'I've been designed to grab your attention, and hold it, so you don't care if I'm any good on the inside.' Luckily, by mid-week, I was decanting the wines and letting it sit for an hour before trying. This burned off the alcohol and brought out the tell-tale spiciness of the Shiraz. Spiciness? What kind of description is that? What kinds of spices? Fresh marjoram? Year-old garam masala? Some one should develop an electronic nose or something to sort this out. How about it science?
Electronic Wine Nose
Funny thing, my wife refused to take part in this mad experiment and asked again for a decent glass of white. I was in the middle of a red wine tasting. RED wine dammit. In a moment of brief introspection, I remembered the piece I was currently working on for Wine Spectator magazine, where white wine may be as good as reds, in terms of cardiovascular health. How salubrious.
At any rate, I wasn't about to spend my vast wine knowledge on someone who rarely gives me wads of cold, hard cash, so I just grabbed a cold bottle of Chilean Sauvignon Blanc from Concha y Toro. Screw cap (which is superior to cork when it comes to a 'drink now' status.) It was lovely, crisp, almost the color of water.
Three nights later she gave me the same request, even though she still had a glass left in the old bottle. I'm sure it would've been fine. But, I went into the store and grabbed another bottle, same shelf, same place… same COLOR. Only when I got it home did I notice it was the Chardonnay. But the label looks exactly the same! And how can a Chardonnay not retain any of it's straw-like hue? It was a decent wine, but c'mon guys. Give us more credit than that. Surely, when people buy wine, they don't just grab any familiar bottle and don't care if it's a Chardonnay, a Sauvignon, an Albarino, a Viogner…
Or do they?
Monday, August 07, 2006
Cabernet Sauvignon Retrospective
Cabernet Sauvignon. It's everywhere. All at once. It seems most wine has a trace of it somewhere. All of California, Australia, Bordeaux, Spain, Italy. So I decided to try a few different offerings in order to get a feel for future blog tastings. But, before that, the TV pilot was turned down by Channel 4! The commissioning editor, Meredith Chambers, didn't even want to see it and rather canned their involvment based on my one-paragraph email. She said the idea was interesting and 'just might work.' Onward and upwards.
I will back post some blogs of rejection emails soon, promise. But real quick, the BBC is not accepting independent projects right now. Cable television, here we come.
So Cabernet. Luckily, I love the grape. Started several evenings ago with Sterling Vineyards Napa Valley 2003. Wasn't sure on the vintage, and paid £13 for it at Budgens. The website said to expect "cherry, cassis, blackberry and a hint of black oilve," umm, yes. I got that, except the black olive. I would also elaborate that the wine is seamless. Just a really lovely wine, with great balance and strength. It still suffers from that California sweetness, which is sometimes downright offensive, but not here. Nice.
The next night, Concha y Toro 2004 Chile. Cabernet Sauvignon. Looking at the bottle I thought I should have started with the cheapest first, instead of working my way backwards. Londis, £5. At this price, you should be happy if the wine is drinkable and not unpleasent. Actually for five pounds, a wine won't have much to reveal, and shouldn't have to. The Concha Cab is just OK, I would tell you all about it, but I think you all have probably had it, and know what I am talking about.
The next night. Jacob's Creek 2004, £5, Costcutter. I have avoided the 'Creek', well, forever. Something about it, besides having a like name, rubs me the wrong way. And as soon as I tried it, I realized what bugs me about the wine is, in fact, the taste. This wine is evil. Pure.
It smells awful and things only get worse from there. I will leave it at that.
So, I opened the Wolf Blass 2004 President Selection Cab, £8 Costcutter. You know, Wolf Blass used to kick ass. Popularity has turned Wolf Blass into the wine world's Pearl Jam. What about the music? It should have been so much better, especially following the Jacob Creek. I'm not going to go more into this one either, except stop buying it until I get a written apology from the Australian wine industry.
Dear Aussies, what have you done to this grape!?!? I will hunt down a decent Australian Cabernet for between £5 to £8, or, so help me god, I will stop eating at the Outback Steakhouse.
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
The first real blog
Alright, here goes. This is the first time writing this blog. But I have much that has happened in the last year. Some Good. Some bad. But real quick: This is a wine blog, mainly. But, I also have a wine TV show I am trying to sell (have been for a year). So it is also a how-to-fail-in-showbusiness blog. So it's a blog about failing, so it's more of a flog really. Yes, bad jokes! Expect more, you know you want them.
I will be back dating this blog, filling in everyone I have talked to and networked with in the last year. Plus I will be reviewing wine. Don't click away yet. When I started in the wine industry seven years ago, I was a wine retard. My publication, Wine Spectator, is the Mac daddy of all wine mags... but not intimidating. In fact, they sent me to wine school! I started writing more in-depth pieces once I acquired 'the Knowledge.' I don't know how much my magazine paid for my education, but I can tell you how much this blog will cost for yours: nothing.
It won't be formal and it will count for little if you try to take a sommelier to task (but if you do, aim for the taste-vin).
So the first wine we have here (I hate the overuse of the single person in blogs and will constantly try to avoid it) is... a 2005 'Les Granges' Cotes du Rhone (oh yeah, don't expect accents and the like. If that's what you want www.winespectatorschool.com. Get some learning!)... also it's a 'reserve'... Morrisons, Great Britain, 4 pounds.
I would have never bought this wine because I am deeply suspicious of the fact Vignerons de Chusclan the wine producer, has its name really tiny all the way at the bottom of the label. If I made a Chateau Gaffney, my name would be in BOLD... and reeeeaaaalll big.
Nonetheless... it's really hot tonight, like 90 degrees F... the term 'reserve' is not a regulated term overall, usually means the wine was aged in oak a bit longer that the crap they sell at 2 quid. But this one is a bargain. Nice colour, simple nose (most wines in this range don't really give much in way of smell) but, if you really need an aroma... there's a wee bit of milk chocolate. When the bottle was first opened it was OK, it's been open an hour and there is some serious throat burn... very alcoholic tasting. But, it's not going down the sink. It's not that bad.
Very drinkable. Good for a BBQ if your friends are big on tins of Stella and decent, cheap wine, as mine are.
Real quick, I went into Crouch End Oddbins and bought a Chapoutier Saint-Joseph. Chapoutier is a great guy, met him once long ago and he left enough of an impression that I will buy his wines. But I can only afford them if they are on clearance. His Saint-Joseph was bin end (oddbins wants to sell of the remaining stock to make room for the new vintage, this practice and vintage reports will be available in the near future)... it normally cost £13, now cost £8. Spectacular. Elegant. So expressive, yet simple. Sad I had to share. Sorry I didn't pay attention more. Next time I will... but only to tell you guys about it.
I will be back dating this blog, filling in everyone I have talked to and networked with in the last year. Plus I will be reviewing wine. Don't click away yet. When I started in the wine industry seven years ago, I was a wine retard. My publication, Wine Spectator, is the Mac daddy of all wine mags... but not intimidating. In fact, they sent me to wine school! I started writing more in-depth pieces once I acquired 'the Knowledge.' I don't know how much my magazine paid for my education, but I can tell you how much this blog will cost for yours: nothing.
It won't be formal and it will count for little if you try to take a sommelier to task (but if you do, aim for the taste-vin).
So the first wine we have here (I hate the overuse of the single person in blogs and will constantly try to avoid it) is... a 2005 'Les Granges' Cotes du Rhone (oh yeah, don't expect accents and the like. If that's what you want www.winespectatorschool.com. Get some learning!)... also it's a 'reserve'... Morrisons, Great Britain, 4 pounds.
I would have never bought this wine because I am deeply suspicious of the fact Vignerons de Chusclan the wine producer, has its name really tiny all the way at the bottom of the label. If I made a Chateau Gaffney, my name would be in BOLD... and reeeeaaaalll big.
Nonetheless... it's really hot tonight, like 90 degrees F... the term 'reserve' is not a regulated term overall, usually means the wine was aged in oak a bit longer that the crap they sell at 2 quid. But this one is a bargain. Nice colour, simple nose (most wines in this range don't really give much in way of smell) but, if you really need an aroma... there's a wee bit of milk chocolate. When the bottle was first opened it was OK, it's been open an hour and there is some serious throat burn... very alcoholic tasting. But, it's not going down the sink. It's not that bad.
Very drinkable. Good for a BBQ if your friends are big on tins of Stella and decent, cheap wine, as mine are.
Real quick, I went into Crouch End Oddbins and bought a Chapoutier Saint-Joseph. Chapoutier is a great guy, met him once long ago and he left enough of an impression that I will buy his wines. But I can only afford them if they are on clearance. His Saint-Joseph was bin end (oddbins wants to sell of the remaining stock to make room for the new vintage, this practice and vintage reports will be available in the near future)... it normally cost £13, now cost £8. Spectacular. Elegant. So expressive, yet simple. Sad I had to share. Sorry I didn't pay attention more. Next time I will... but only to tell you guys about it.
Monday, July 10, 2006
InterWined Trailer
Here is a trailer for the wine series, InterWined, which we have hosted using YouTube.
Thursday, June 22, 2006
Welcome
Hi and welcome to my blog. Here I will detail the efforts my business partner Duncan Webster and I have in trying to sell my wine documentary, InterWined.
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