Don't Close the Curtain Yet! You Haven't Even Heard the Encore

A series of unfortunate incidents transpired recently at the Corkscrew, where I hang my hat peddling wine and cheese. The first time I let it go, merely an isolated incident I thought. Not three days later  it bloody well happened again. I couldn't let this fly under the radar especially given the possibility one of these customers would start to spread falsehoods. It is not one to be glossed over especially given that it occurred twice.  I was deeply concerned, even slightly annoyed.  My job, as well as my colleagues, is to educate, inform and when called upon to entertain. This was no time to entertain. This was a grave matter.  Buckling down , I was determined to stop it dead in its tracks. I am referring, of course, to ageism and the hapless victim: older vintage wine.

Recently, our sales-hungry distributors unearthed some hidden treasures from Italy and Australia buried deep within the recesses of their warehouse. "You will never guess what I found, " they exclaim like a wide-eyed child who found his Boy Scout project from years ago. 

Also, we occasionally establish contact with individuals who just impetuously decide their cellar is just too overwhelming so they elect to consign their wines with us (tough burden to bear, I know) or someone has died and left a supposed treasure of wine. One in particular, a cabernet from a huge, star-wattage vineyard in Napa, more about that later. 

Naturally, we are suspicious. We have to taste it before we strike a deal. Distributors know this, can't rely on their good word. Some are over the hill, like a long forgotten, Hollywood B-lister, the wines not the distributors that is. All their glory has faded. It's over for them. However, on occasion, due to impeccable cellaring, skill of the winemaker and a fortunate growing season, these wines have withstood the test of time. They've lingered, simmered, gathered dust, thirsting for an oenophile to appreciate all of its wonderful virtues They have more to bring to the table than their lusty, nubile, brand-spanking counterparts. For one reason or another, not everyone appreciates those virtues. What they perceive as lethargic and over-the-hill is a wine just hitting its stride. 

You wouldn't dismiss Meryl Streep as a viable actress just because she is in her 60s. Could you have imagined her playing the coldly confident magazine editor in the Devil Wears Prada while in her 30s . It never would have worked. Same theory applies here. 

The  stunning 1999 Colle Bereto Chianti Classico possessed all the essential ingredients for aging: formidable tannins, front and center acidity and dark red fruit. Upon release, yes it was promising but no where near its potential, but 11 years later it is stunning. No need for a decant as age had taken care of that issue. The tannins and acidity are gentle and the fruit is darker, not a bright and sexy red that some people prefer ( this is probably what our customer was hunting for, he, consequently, just wasn't keen on the wine, but it was by no means ready to call it quits). Herbs, antique aromas and earth fleshed out the profile. Better yet, the wine was still smiling two days, two days mind you, after opening. Guess who enjoyed the remainder of that bottle with a some pasta and a mushroom-based red sauce? It was such an enlightening experience.

The other matter involved a Cakebread Cabernet from the superb 1994 vintage in California. The man's mother insisted the wine was "no good". We smiled and took the bottle back. No point in arguing,we're not going to hold a grudge. And the condition of the wine?  It was on top of the world. Savoury, dark, and subtle, it bore no resemblance to the flashy, oaky and flamboyant fruit many gravitate towards. And if you have a predilection for that sort of thing, more power to you. Wine, just as humans, change and evolve over time. Are you going to be the same 15 years from now? How interesting would that be?

And just in case you assume whites aren't as durable as their red cousins, think again. In fact, as I write this, I have fallen in love with a 10-year-old Pinot Blanc from the Alsace region of France. Expressing a lanolin texture and fruit profile of lemon and apple, its endurance was all but guaranteed by a steady stream of stimulating acidity. My selection of baked cod topped with almonds and chives made a marvelous companion.

The 2000 Stanley Brothers Cabernet from the Barossa Valley beautifully illustrates Australia's range with cabernet.  Stored at cellar temperature (55 degrees), it upends the notion that Aussie wines are nothing but in-your-face, instant gratification guzzlers. Unfolding with accents of vanilla, earth, dusty tannins and suggestions of dark plum and cherry, this refined gem is all about finesse and balance with bold fruit and power assuming a secondary role. Forget those naysayers who insist  Aussie wine doesn't age, au contraire.

Granted, most wine, 95% approximately is meant to be consumed with a 1-3 year window. If it bears a modest price point and the winery is churning out thousands of cases, its life span is limited. No, I am sorry, you are wasting your time if you expect your beloved Yellow Tail to improve with age. Simply put, its days are numbered as soon as the checker rings it up at the grocery store. I would be extremely nervous if someone offered me glass of 2002 Yellow Tail Shiraz. Pop the cork and take it for what it is, an enjoyable one-night encounter, nothing more, nothing less.

Point being, older vintage wine is not always for everyone so don't waste a first or second growth Bordeaux on a friend who guzzles mass produced bulk wine. It is incumbent upon wine educators to inform our clients of the changes wines undergo after they mature. Some are still quite vibrant and relevant, they are emboldened by their age,  and  for those whose palates have evolved right along with the wine I have mentioned, you are in for one hell of a ride.

Cheers

Michael

Mondavi Within Our Midst

Tuesday started out as rather ho-hum.  It was just me and Danielle. Cathy was vacationing in the backwoods of West Virginia:  4-wheelers, moonshine, mountain people and all the trappings of country life. Danielle and I were pounded with phone calls from the get-go: pre-recorded sales calls, inquires as to what time we closed and my all-time favourite, Are we open? Of course we are open, I just answered the phone. Click.  Do we carry wine from New Jersey? Really. I feared what was coming next.

And then Southern Wine and Spirits Rep Dennis Klinc, as American as apple pie and hardworking and reliable  as they come, rang up. "Are we going to be around to taste some wines", he inquired? "No, I replied. I'm leaving the store to become a Ginsu Knife salesman".  "Of course, Danielle and I will be here,  Where else would we be? "Well, I've got Peter Mondavi with me in the car and he would like to sample out his newest releases".  I was absolutely sure he was putting me on. I deserved it after all. Notoriously absent minded, Dennis constantly misplaces his cell phone, computer and anything else that isn't humanly attached to his person. And just for fun, when he's in the shop, I hide these things, tormenting him even more. I absconded with his Blackberry and replaced it with a broken razor phone and he started to use it. I even moved his car once, three blocks away. This was his revenge. But, no, honest as the day is long, Dennis was telling the truth. Peter Mondavi was indeed in Springfield.

So, in they both walked.  For some reason, the Dynasty theme song was blaring in my head. Coincidentally,  Peter bore a resemblance to a young 50ish John Forsyth, tall, charming, elegant, salt and pepper hair and smartly dressed in a Navy blazer and corn flower blue T-shirt, all California calm. Comparisons aside, Peter, along with his father, Peter Sr. and his brother Mark, power their own wine dynasty buoyed  by a cadre of devoted followers. Charles Krug Winery  is as synonymous with the California wine scene as Hershey is to chocolate.

  Danielle and I were a bit palate fatigued from just having tasted and toured various other wines from scores of other peddlers. but this was a huge opportunity. I politely excused myself while I nourished myself with a salmon salad and Danielle wolfed down some rice. Dennis, naturally, forgot something at his previous appointment and ran back to retrieve it. Peter checked his email. I finished my lunch, and then I  proceeded to play wine journalist.

He didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed accustomed to it. Touring the country nearly a third of the year, Peter is the public relations mastermind behind Charles Krug Wines. Krug bears the distinction of being one of the most venerable and most competitive wineries still enduring long after others have given up the game and gone home; only two other wineries in California share such storied history. Say what you will, but they have longevity on their side.  Stopping in at wine shops, feeling the pulse of the wine buying public and generally making sure suppliers and shop owners are moving product are his top priorities. Definitely on top his game.  

I inquired how the tentative economy had affected sales. He confessed that everyone at all economic levels pulled back.  " However, Krug is a name brand, people want something tried and true, plus heritage and image softened the impact. We are now at pre-recession levels," he confidently said. Spoken like a confident business man who knows his product, stands behind it and expertly knows how to weather jarring economic conditions. 

In the last several years,  I have witnessed firsthand consumers' rapidly changing buying patterns and with the economic downturn our buying habits as a retailer have evolved as well; we simply had no choice if we were to survive.  If somebody is going to fork over $20 for a California cabernet, they want it to taste like a $30 cabernet. Can't blame them. There is literally a plethora of phenomenal wine out there.  There is no room for pretenders; they will fall by the wayside like a naive, out-of-shape player challenging the reigning champ at Wimbledon. Along with disciplining their wallets, consumers have sharpened their palates . The heat is on! 

Now, let's get down to brass tax. Equipped with history, vision and ambition does Krug deliver the goods? Yes and yes! 

Their fiscal friendly  CK Sauvignon Blanc is an excellent value. Alive with citrus, body and freshness, it's perfect for a summer quaffer.

Their  CK field blend of Cabernet, Merlot, Petite Verdot and Syrah  reveals pretty red fruit, delicate tannins and instant likability. 

The Charles Krug Sauvignon Blanc, sourced from prime St. Helena grapes is rich in melon, peach and passion fruit, a brilliant companion to fish.

The Charles Krug Pinot Noir (4500 cases), sired from the pinot-prized appelation of Carneros, exhibits earth, early morning dew, smoke, black cherry and spice. Can I suggest Sockeye salmon?

The Charles Krug Merlot is sturdy, robust and and rich yet sleek like a merlot should be, to many others try to don the cabernet hat. If they want merlot give 'em merlot. 

The '08 Charles Krug Cabernet, a vintage rivaling '07 some say surpasses it, Mondavi says it is superior. Holding things closer to the vest amid formidable tannins, this baby just needs time.

Finally, the '08 Krug Generation , their golden boy, if you will, is sensational. Driving this sleek Napa Bordeaux-influenced blend is 56% Cabernet, 31% Merlot, 10% Cabernet Franc and 3% Petite Verdot. Brandishing incredible depth of power and richness, its underlying weapon is finesse on the finish, in short,  balance between the feminine and the masculine. 

Who knew Tuesdays could be so rewarding? Thank you Peter. 

Cheers

Michael

The Ascension of Portugal

Just up until a scant few years ago, the mere mention of Portugal as a serious wine-producing region would have left people scoffing and dismissing the notion. Their neighbor to the east, Spain, was the Goliath to Portugal's David.  Always revered for their Port, they failed to wine kudos beyond their beloved fortified wines. Their simple, rustic table reds and whites were fine for travelers or locals.  As in political campaigns, momentum has moved in the direction of the underdog; they are now a contender. Not just because the wine press is searching for the new darling of the wine world, but because Portugal is truly earning its keep.

As an 11-year workhorse wine veteran, I have tasted Portuguese whites and reds, and I must say the positives far outweighed the negatives, yet they were the indie movie without the financial backing of a big studio. I consume Vinho Verde (Green Wine) like a mad man in the steamy heat of summer. Spritzy, light, low alcohol and  fancy fun, it is the perfect aperitif. Even a year or so back, during a weekend visit with friends in Chicago, all of us were left speechless by a polished red blend from the Dao region----at a pocket friendly $12, no less.

The never-ending recession left people hungry for exceptional wine at a fraction of what they have been accustomed to forking over at their local shops. Spain, South America and Australia swept in keeping  consumers content. But now, Portugal's was eyeing its opportunity to gain a foothold in the market.

Energetic and passionate winemakers from the Douro, Dao, Alentejo and Vinho Verde regions have kicked things into high gear. As the risk of being too wonky, they tossed out those old musty oak barrels, exploited their yields in the Alentejo and Dao region and kept things at a minimum in the Douro. The Douro  is named after the Duero River in nearby Spain. Surrounded by steep vineyards, this is the region that can in time compete on the same world wide level as Napa, Bordeaux, Barossa, OZ and Mendoza, Argentina. South of the Douro, the Dao, and the Alentejo regions, are rich with fruit-driven, friendly everyday bargains. This could potentially be a cash cow for them.

So with all this talk of Portuguese wine, a Saturday tasting at the Corkscrew was in order.  Hosted by Boy Brainerd, a native of Napa and now a wine distributor in the Chicago area, Boy defies the stereotype of a wine peddler. Sporting a thick beard and near shoulder length hair, he resembles a band member from the late 70s/early 80s era. Any Black Sabbath or AC/DC fans out there? But, boy oh boy (sorry, just couldn't resist), does Boy know his wine. Earning his stripes as the marketing and sales guru at fan fave Gundlach Bundschu, Boy is now our go-to guy for the latest Portuguese releases. He earns high marks from us as he recognizes Springfield as the actual capital of Illinois; we tend to get a little touchy when we're ignored in favor of the folks up north. His Midwestern friendly charm coupled with his mid-alto, radio-friendly voice and his many wine stories from back in the day left customers asking, "When is Boy coming back"?

The line-up included the Herade de Esporao Verdelho, a kissing cousin to Spain's Verdejo grape. This medium-bodied delight is awash in subtle citrus, island tropical fruit and melon notes cut by its backbone of tight acidity generating a lasting finish.  A perfect match with seafood-based Paella, wouldn't you say?

The Alentejo-based Monte Velho Wines, both red and white, are an absolute treasure. Talk about bang-for-your-buck.  The white is so palate-friendly with its cushiony texture, fragrant aromas and fruit profile of pear, Gala apple and baking spice notes. Eat your heart out California chardonnay.

Plush, round and pleasing, the red is chock full of flavours of plum, cherry, and vanilla lounging in the gentlest of tannins. You can pair these with chicken or fish offerings, but in all reality their causal approach is perfect for everyday quaffing sans food.

Now let's move  on to the heavy hitter. Surely you didn't think I was going to close the curtain before the grand finale. The Douro-based Assobio is a blend of Tinta Roriz (a clone of Tempranillo), Touriga Nacional and Tinta Barroca. I know, you're thinking you don't know these varietals from adam. Native to Portugal, Touriga Nacional is the heftier of the three, Tinta Roriz conveys finesse and Tinta Barocca is used mainly for port, and obviously, red blends, mainly for conveying rich, dark hues.

Elegant and stunning with moderately leathery tannins that don't overstay their welcome, the Assobio invites comparisons to those aforementioned regions, and deservedly so. Boasting a moderate alcohol level of 13.5%,  it's anchored by a trove of  red berries and concentrated cherries amidst an intriguing undercurrent of warm, late afternoon sun, earth and mineral. Never for a moment does the Assobio morph into a heavy-handed wine; it carefully dances the tightrope of intensity and finesse from beginning to its gloriously long finish.  This is not an easy task, mind you. Many of today's wines, not going to mention any region or names here, want to hammer it home. Don't get me wrong, I love power in my wines, but if that's all you have to offer, I'm afraid I will have to break off the relationship. Sadly, the Assobio starts to fade a day after opening. Irrelevant as it won't make it that long in my house anyway. And, really, at $15, we have nothing to complain about and everything to celebrate.

Though we were done, eh? Not just yet. Boy caught us off guard with a concoction he refers to as a "Portonic". Equal amounts white port and tonic water (diet tonic for us counting calories), it is refreshing with just a sliver of sweet on the palate, not at all cloying. The fizz from the tonic add to the liveliness of this unique, summertime treat. Even my friend Carolin, another one of my Mom's, seemed to take to it and she abhors anything remotely sweet.

As long as prices remain steady, i.e. don't get too big for your britches Portugal or you will face a backlash, and the w(v)ines continue to be nourished by dedicated and innovative vintners, the sky is the limit.

Cheers
Michael

Get Your Rose On!

Let's be clear about one thing first, when the summer scorching heat and humidity reaches maximum boar as it did this week, defying the normal temperature range for early June in cerebral central Illinois, sending people inside worshiping their air conditioners, I thirst after Rose like my friend Rebecca's unending quest for  Champagne, Prosecco and all things bubbles .

But, truth be told,  I wasn't always on the Rose bandwagon.  I might have even been tossing some rotten tomatoes at those who were standing proud on that wagon.

My boss talked a blue streak about Rose as if it were a beautiful woman he met in the South of France.  I rolled my eyes and politely excused myself to the loo.  I was proud of my prejudice against this inferior wine, a mere evil twin of White Zinfandel loaded with sugar, and I wasn't about to pocket my pride.  Little did I know what I was missing.

My conversion wasn't overnight.  However, within a matter of weeks our shelves were populated with Rose, from everywhere mind you. The choice was no longer mine.  I was weary of protesting; I acquiesced. Plus, I felt compelled as a wine consultant to try this Mateus-like pinkish liquid, regardless of my disdain. My job is to sell wine. I just couldn't sneer at it all summer long, letting  it linger there collecting dust. France, Spain, the US, even Argentina, of all places, were churning out Rose faster than you could say long form birth certificate. Yes, Argentina, and that is where my conversion occurred, not in Argentina itself , perhaps if I'm so fortunate someday, but at our very own tasting bar at the Corkscrew Wine Emporium.

One of our smiling, eager distributors (suspicion levels surge, keep your guard up)  from Chicago whose portfolio is dedicated to small, niche producers and  hidden gems, pulled out a bottle of Crios Malbec Rose from Argentina from his wine briefcase. "Here we go", I thought, like I was at the doctor getting a vaccine in a long syringe on my backside. Within seconds, I was grinning from ear to ear. My rose prejudice was slipping faster than Sarah Palin's poll numbers. Its garnet colour reminded my of a lollipop from my childhood; my colleague Veronica compared it to a jollyrancher. Sipping away, I was treated to sensations of ripe strawberry, cherry, fresh cut roses and mint. But, there was more.  Surprisingly, it didn't dissipate on the first sip.  Buoyed by its acidity, body and dry finish, this baby has legs. Jeez, was I ever wrong. I'm really going to have to suck it up. Crios and I have settled into a mutual agreement. I'm allowed to flirt with others roses, yet we still enjoy each other's company several times a month.

There isn't a lot of wiggle room in regard to holding on to older vintages of Rose. They are meant to be consumed young. Some vehemently disagree, contending that French Roses, especially ones from Tavel,  which are energized with mounds of acidity will hold for several years.  The good ones do, stubbornly maintaining themselves while taking on brickish hues with subtle notes of herbs, earth,  flowers and late season fruit.  I, however, hold firm in the fact that I like my Rose brand spanking new.  Fresh out of fermentation, a few months of bottle age allowing it to settle into its new home and then into my home. So, as you would expect, sharing space next to the chicken salad and organic yogurt in my fridge are several roses, all  from 2010.

All roses are pink, course, as their minimal exposure to their red skins dictate, but their styles swing vast and far. Yes, rose is decidedly dry. Some reveal more fruit than others, but its dryness distinguishes itself from its cloying imitators. Rose wines from Tavel, a rustic, romantic town  in the South of France, home to a mere 1600 people, is  dedicated solely to rose production, and others from Provence, are the driest of the dry with nary a sign of sweet in sight.  The Laurent Miquel Rose from Provence is destined to be the sleeper hit of the Rose Season. Syrah and Cinsault-based, it is such an elegant  and layered rose.  Balance is key here, and it delivers equal amounts of pretty red fruit and acid couched in a smooth, whipped cream texture, simultaneously satisfying many admirers of rose. I would venture to say it is several dollars under priced. All the better for us, right?

So, yes ,rose is delectable, but can food and rose even be mentioned in the same breath? Sipping is certainly not frowned upon, but rose's food-pairing potential is not to be taken lightly. Ranging from summer salads, light pasta dishes to Paella rose can definitely be counted on for support. Purchase some fresh greens at your local farmers market and arrange a classic dish of fresh tomatoes, mozzarella and basil drizzled with 10-year-old aged balsamic.  Anchored by healthy acidity, French roses are absolutely ideal for food-pairing. And in France, everybody drinks rose. There, and throughout Europe, controversy and condescension never visit rose's doorstep. Sitting down for dinner at a local cafe, rose is served immediately. Don't wanna piss of your French waiter who speaks fluent English, do you?

If you're keen on domestic roses, the Barnard Griffin from WA. State has held court for several years. While dry, the Griffins' fruit profile is more generous than its French counterparts.   Near and dear to my palate for several vintages, it spills over with red fruit flavour in every corner of your mouth. Notions of ripe luscious spring strawberries, raspberries and holiday candy flesh out the flavour profile of this modestly priced marvel.

Lest you think rose is meant for the dog days of summer, some people adore their roses regardless if the temperature is surging past 90 or ice blanketing their windshields.  My friend and Corkscrew compatriot, Jim wouldn't dare think of  completing a purchase at the store without several bottles of the pink stuff in tow for his rose-loving wife, Linda, one of many mothers I can choose from on any given day, depending on my mood. The locks would be changed, and Jim would be sleeping in the car. End of story.

My bias against rose is now a thing of the past. If you are still ambivalent about Rose, just start tasting, you will come around, I did.

Something tells me, there just might be a follow-up article on rose  in the not-too-distant future.  After all, it's only early June, and there's weeks of rose revelry ahead of us.
Cheers
Michael

An Introduction

My Life on the Vine. Are you Going to Swing With Me?
Welcome to My Wine Musings fellow devotees, wine drinkers, foodies and all those who are just simply curious and intrigued by the ever changing world of wine. Everybody has a journey. You might be a collector of prized vintages or perhaps you are a novice or a casual observer, never really giving much more than a passing thought to wine. One weekend, after much cajoling by friends, you enjoyed a casual glass of red or white at a neighbourhood restaurant or you even ventured into your local wine shop quietly purchasing a bottle , returned home, popped the corked (or screwcap, as that familiar '70s trend has reemerged) , slid in a DVD of Sex and the City , poured yourself a glass, absorbing the fragrant aromas, watching the liquid, someone's hard fought labor, hit the glass and thought to yourself, "What have I been missing,"?   I am Michael DeBeaulieu, wine consultant, passionate, nerdy wine enthusiast, and I invite you to explore, taste and learn with me through exhilarating vintages, Old and New World regions, exciting trends and above all discover for yourself the pleasure of wine. In addition to blogging and tending to my devoted Corkscrew customers, I also conduct Private and Corporate Tastings specializing in fundraisers, office and holiday  parties, conferences, formal dinner parties, anniversaries and birthdays.