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.