Comments on Stephen Parrish: Steve's Wine Post

Well, Stephen...I have many thoughts and questions...

2007-08-20T18:44:00.000+02:00

Well, Stephen...

I have many thoughts and questions on your one-and-only wine post.

First of all, when you speak of Tokay, are you referring to Hungarian Tokay Aszu?

In the days before the Iron Curtain fell, it was a ridiculously inexpensive great wine. I used to buy a bottle for $7 and take it to parties, where I would dispense it like brandy (one- and two-ounce shots in a wine glass) to anyone who wanted proof that wine doesn’t always taste like grapes. Many fond memories.

Kristina recently picked up a 500 ml bottle of Tokay for $36 in New Hampshire, meaning that it would cost about $70 in Nova Scotia. She’s always wanted to taste it because it was mentioned in The Golden Compass.

And just for the pedants, Hungarian Tokay isn’t made from the Tokay grape, but from the Furmint grape. Go figure! You buy it according to Puttonyos, referring to a traditional Hungarian basket holding 25 kg of grapes — in this case, shriveled grapes thick with noble rot. The more baskets that were needed to make the wine, the sweeter the wine would be. A golden, glorious wine.

I wonder of our $70 bottle of Tokay will tastes as great as the $7 bottles that I remember so fondly. I don’t see how it can.

Believe it or not, I have never tasted a great Chateauneuf-du-Pape. This is best explained by my perennial problem of living in a small province in which bureaucrats decide what we can drink. And now that we actually have a few good Rhone wines, I can’t afford to drink them. C’est domage!

And while you’re correct in mentioning that Chateauneuf can be made from 13 different grape varieties, the best ones are usually made with just a few well-chosen red grapes, including Syrah (aka Shiraz) and Grenache.

Grenache can make great wine elsewhere. In Spain, it’s called Garnacha and is often found in many worthy Rioja. It’s also good in California, and Australia, too.

The story of Grenache is a familiar story in the winemaking world. In a warm region, like Chateauneuf-du-Pape or the Cote Rotie, Grenache can be a prolific vine, throwing out bunches of grapes with abandon. If the winemaker just lets the vine be, he’ll harvest maybe 6 or 7 tons of grenache per acre, and he might make a passable wine that’s round and fruity and easy-to-drink.

But his neighbor is much smarter. She really takes care in the vineyard, and just after the fruit sets, she removes more than half the immature green bunches, so she’ll harvest somewhere in the range of two tons per acre. Her wine might be a little more alcoholic, but it will also taste richer and more complex, with riper tannins and the ability to improve in the bottle for years. Of course, she’ll have to charge much more for it, since she removed two-thirds of her grapes to make something really special.

So, if you’ve been disappointed with Grenache grown in other areas, it’s probably because you’ve been buying wine from the first guy, and not his neighbor. The wine world has room for both of them.

In California and Australia (especially), some very old Grenache vineyards have been brought back into production. These are grandfather vines, wizened and gnarly, often between 50 and 100 years old. In a good year, you might get one and a half tons per acre of intense, concentrated grapes. These bottles of Grenache will blow you — and your readers — away. They might even be better than, gasp, Chateauneuf-du-Pape! :-)

As you know, I share your love for Riesling. I still dream about a Scharzhofberger Riesling Auslese 1976 that I bought regularly for $14 a bottle in the early 1980s. It was sweet and floral — suggesting so many herbs and spices in the bouquet and on the palate that I couldn’t name them all. Such an intoxicating great wine. It was a sad day when I went to buy a bottle, only to find the bin empty, forever empty. For the rest of my natural life. Empty!

I would make a small plug for dry Riesling. Not the dry Riesling of California, though, for the grape seldom does well there. I’m talking about Australia, which will seem counter-intuitive at first, as you read on.

Riesling needs a long, cool, extended growing season to develop the rich, gorgeous flavors that few other white grapes possess. In Australia, they grow Riesling in the mountains, so the vines are blessed with cool, golden sunlight, and the grapes must struggle to ripen. When they do, they make sublime dry Rieslings. I’ve only tasted one such savory Riesling, from Petaluma, and it was brilliant. Perfumed, fragrant, complex, tasting of limes and nectarines. I had an Oregon Riesling from Argyle in 1992 that was almost that good. (Aussie Brian Croser started both wineries), so I’d love to try another Argyle Riesling. They can easily improve in the bottle for 10 or 15 years.

I love Pinot Noir, though I’ve had very few good ones. A century or two ago, a great Burgundy was described by one purple-tongued aficionado as The good Lord Jesus himself sliding down your throat wearing velvet pantaloons (or words to that affect).

Most of us never get to taste famous grand cru Burgundies, so perhaps we’ll never get it. I’ve had hints of Burgundian greatness: a mouthwatering combination of sweet red fruit (cherries, raspberries) and spicy oak, with a rich, velvety impression in the mouth that no other red grape can match.

But who can pay $300+ a bottle for that experience? Not many. If you buy the best Pinots from Oregon and California, costing between $40 and $75 US, you will be able to taste wines that compare with all but the best Burgundian reds. But it’s a notoriously fickle grape, and disappoints almost as often as it impresses. Wine lovers need to do their homework.

The best bottles I've ever tasted, other than those mentioned, were all enjoyed in restaurants, at the end of a shift, when a customer left a little for me to try. (It’s a great thing to do for wait staff, if you dine out frequently). That’s how I tasted wines like Chateau Yquem 1976, and Chateau Lafite-Rothschild 1976.

But I don’t like spending a fortune on a bottle. My best memories have always relied on finding good and great bottles before they became expensive, like the aforementioned Tokay. I used to buy Antinori Tignanello for $17 a bottle, and Torres Gran Coronas Black Label (now called Mas La Plana) for $18. Or a sublime Barraida Riserva 1968 from Portugal that set me back just $8 a bottle. I had my sister buy a bottle of Vega Sicilia (and two of the winery’s second labels) when she was traveling in Spain. It cost me just $60 for all three bottles. It would cost 10 times that today.

I’ve told you before that if I could do it all over, I would be running a winery today. To explain why, I’ll quote myself. (And hope that isn't tacky).

Wine truly offers something for every temperament. Producing good wine is an art form, expressing the winemaker’s genius as surely as if she had put chisel to marble. But wines also speak about the land in which the grapes were grown. A sense of history percolates throughout the wine industry, but it’s also a progressive, iconoclastic way to make a living. Winemaking has a decidedly back-to-the-earth feeling, yet it’s big on science and technology too. No wonder it fascinates so many people.

But the best thing about wine is an unheralded virtue. By learning to appreciate wine, we hone our senses. In such a complex, busy, frenetic world, we too often tune out. We ignore and avoid.

Wine is incredibly mindful. By bringing your senses and your intellect to bear, you may regain something that you’ve lost. There is a Zen to wine tasting that transcends. That puts you deep into the moment. Food tastes better; desserts are more satisfying; a massage feels heavenly; friends seem wittier; sex regains lost passion.

Best of all, you may find yourself celebrating the joys of the table and the camaraderie of cherished companions and family more often.

Wine adds to life’s enjoyment and should be treated seriously. But not too seriously.

Congratulations, Travis, on having married "up." ...

2007-08-19T18:09:00.000+02:00

Congratulations, Travis, on having married "up." I'd love to know what her favorite kind of Riesling is (there being no wrong answer . . .).

I'm not into wine, but my wife is, and Rieslings a...

2007-08-19T17:44:00.000+02:00

I'm not into wine, but my wife is, and Rieslings are her favorite. I'll have to direct her to your blog so she can learn a bit more.

However, I LOVE beer.You're forgiven, Anti-Wife, b...

2007-08-15T09:54:00.000+02:00

However, I LOVE beer.

You're forgiven, Anti-Wife, because you specified German beer. My favorite is wheat beer and I like it filtered (Crystalweizen).

However, I'm a Diet Coors drinker.

That explains why you haven't emailed me the wine story you promised me, Betsy.

By the way, everybody, it's Betsy's (Starbuck's) birthday tomorrow (the 16th).

I too prefer beer over wine, and REAL beer too.How...

2007-08-15T05:34:00.000+02:00

I too prefer beer over wine, and REAL beer too.

However, I'm a Diet Coors drinker. First of all, I live ten minutes from where it's brewed and second of all, a girl has to watch her figure.

But I treat myself with red ales whenever I get the chance. Fortunately, Colorado has wonderful brewpubs.

I know nothing about wine. If it doesn't taste li...

2007-08-15T04:40:00.000+02:00

I know nothing about wine. If it doesn't taste like pee (and some wines do) when I take the first couple of sips I'll drink it. I'm such a lightweight after the first glass I don't care what it tastes like anyway. Ergo, no one ever asks me to choose the wine.

However, I LOVE beer. Learned to love it in Germany where the beer actually has flavor. Don't like the colored water they tend to call beer here. I prefer something with lots of taste - hefs, porters, ales. YUM!

You worked in K-town? Small world! My friend is st...

2007-08-14T19:33:00.000+02:00

You worked in K-town? Small world!

My friend is stationed at Ramstein for another year, so I'm really hoping to pay her another visit before she gets transferred elsewhere. (I promised her I would, and then that whole pesky "disposable income" caveat rained on my parade... maybe next year!)

"Uncorked" sounds like the right group for you, Er...

2007-08-14T17:21:00.000+02:00

"Uncorked" sounds like the right group for you, Erica.

I worked in Kaiserslautern for ten years; was your friend stationed at Ramstein Air Base?

I'm still thinking about your title. It's a tough assignment.

Hey, great post!I love wine! And I'm a layman too,...

2007-08-14T13:41:00.000+02:00

Hey, great post!

I love wine! And I'm a layman too, although I do belong to a group of wine enthusiasts here in Tampa called Uncorked. (By "belong", I mean I show up at an event/tasting about once a year. *sigh*)

Last fall, I was at a wine festival in Germany. I was visiting a friend in the Miesenbach/Kaiserslautern area, and we drove to Schweigen-Rechtenbach for the winery there, and another time to Gleiszellen-Gleishorbach for the Winefest there, and had a blast trying all the wines. Later that month, I visited Bordeaux where I, of course, sampled the Bordeaux--tasty!

Can't wait to go back to that side of the pond...

"My favorite wine is Châteauneuf-du-Pape."Stephen,...

2007-08-14T00:58:00.000+02:00

"My favorite wine is Châteauneuf-du-Pape."

Stephen, I knew there was something great about you the first moment I laid eyes on your keystrokes. I absolutely LOVE Châteauneuf-du-Pape. It's damn good thing you don't live in Illinois.

One of our most memorable experiences in recent history was touring the vineyards in Australia's Hunter Valley. OMG. The beauty, the wine, the food...

What a wonderful post. Thanks for sharing your knowledge with us. Gorgeous photos too.

Oh shit I do have a great wine story. It's too lo...

2007-08-13T22:21:00.000+02:00

Oh shit I do have a great wine story. It's too long to tell here. I'll email ya.

Wine experiences? Who ever remembers them? Kiddin...

2007-08-13T22:20:00.000+02:00

Wine experiences? Who ever remembers them?

Kidding. My current favorite in the cellar is my --shit, I have to go look-- '98 Muga Rioja. I plan on cracking a bottle on my birthday. Not horribly expensive but damned yummy. My husband's fav is the Bin 555.

My cellar also has gaping holes, along with some good wines that we've never even opened the gift wrap on, just cuz we know it comes from a reliable source.