2006 Poggio del Falco - reviewed by Kerri

For this review, I have to start with the story, so I’ll end with the facts.

The other day, I wanted wine after work. So we opened a bottle of something (don't recall what it was and unless you want to know what not to drink, it doesn't matter) that smelled like really ripe blackberries. It didn’t taste like ripe blackberries; it tasted like jam – and not in a good way. At first, I thought, it’s okay; not my favorite, but I don’t hate it.

I tried some cheese (both manchego and a sharp cheddar) to see if that would make the wine any better. The cheese had no flavor compared to the wine! How is that possible? Seriously, how is it possible to make a sharp cheddar taste almost like nothing???

So, we poured it down the drain. We’ve said it before and we’ll say it again… life’s too short to drink bad wine.

Then we opened the Italian Poggio del Falco.





OMG.... I hadn’t even taken a sip and I felt compelled to break out my laptop to start writing. The color is beautiful – that brownish red I’ve come to love. And the nose is so pleasantly sweet – like sweet tobacco. And not in a bad Marlboro kind of way (and that's not to disparage Marlboro - I've been known to smoke one here and there), but in a sweet, vanilla, pipe tobacco kind of way. And for some reason the nose reminds me of sweet alyssum, though I admit I haven’t actually smelled sweet alyssum in a couple of years.

After smelling the wine for I’d say a good 10 minutes (I could smell this wine forever), I finally took a taste. Ahhhhh, now that’s what a wine is supposed to taste like. And this is where I fall down in terms of reviewing the wine. After several tastes, I was still having trouble describing it. The only thing that kept coming to mind is that it tasted exactly like what wine should taste like! I realize that's not exactly helpful, so.... What I can say is this:

It tastes a little brown-red; definitely does not taste as sweet as it smells. The texture is that nice resting place between suck your mouth dry and coat your mouth with creaminess. It has a rather long finish. I’d call it medium bodied, though tasting notes online say it’s full bodied. I think the only thing that would make it better is if it were velvety in texture.

Important safety tip – be careful at the bottom of the bottle. There’s a fair amount of sediment and I’d venture to say you don’t want a mouthful of that.

Everyone should try this wine! Well, okay, everyone who is a fan of old-world style wines. If you prefer a full-bodied, in your face, fruit forward, hello I’m a huge wine party in your mouth kind of wine…, then this is not the wine for you.


So there's my story. Jonathan’s on vacation now and didn’t feel as compelled as I to write something up while we were drinking it, so this is a wine review - 1 way. But don’t misunderstand – he did enjoy the wine and I've already ordered 2 more bottles so he may post his take in the not too distant future. Personally, if I had the space for at least half a case, I’d order at least half a case. Maybe we need a bigger wine fridge. hmmm....

Now for the facts:

2006 Poggio del Falco
Region: Tuscany, Italy
Winemaker: Michele Barbiero of the Morazzano Estate (Turner Wine is the importer)
Variety: Sangiovese, Merlot & Cabernet Sauvignon (organic)

Price point: $15-$20

2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon - reviewed by Kerri

The facts:

2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon
Region: Morgon, Beaujolais, Burgundy, France
Variety: 100% Gamay

My take:

It smells rosy before swirling, then… I get that smell that’s not paint thinner, not nail polish remover, not metallic, but burns my nose a bit – plain ole alcohol I guess.

After taking the first sip, I remarked, this is weird.

I let it sit in my mouth, swished it around a bit and got almost nothing until I swallowed. It’s very light – both in taste and feel. It tastes somewhat purpley-pink, maybe light red. It feels light up front with a little more depth in the middle, where you can feel your taste buds perking up (going, what’s this?) and a strange finish that is almost creamy in texture. I’m not sure I’m a fan of that creamy finish. I find myself taking my tongue around my gums to get rid of the creaminess in a way. (Apologies if that’s TMI.)

After swirling and smelling the wine, I expected it to taste a bit harsh and acidic, but I don’t get any of that. I don’t get any of that alcohol-y sense in the taste, only in the smell. I’m having a hard time describing what it is, but I find that I want more, perhaps just in an effort to define it, to nail down its essence, to figure out if I like it or not.

I sipped some more and then started eating dinner – nothing fancy, but something I’m sure lots of people have in their kitchen: chicken nuggets. (Neither one of us felt inclined to cook a full-on dinner tonight and opted to take the easy way out. But that's a different talk show.)

I discovered that I was more interested in the wine when not eating. Once I started eating, the wine became even creamier in texture, which I didn’t care for. That’s a texture I expect in a white wine, not a red, and it’s not one I like in white wines either.

To be fair, I tried a few different things to see if I liked the wine better with something else... manchego cheese, cheddar cheese, wheat thins, kalamata olives.... The only thing that seemed to cut the creaminess were the olives. In fact, the olives actually extended the finish on this wine.

Now, this is 100% gamay and I don’t have much experience drinking gamay. Perhaps this is a great expression of gamay; I couldn’t say. Other write-ups about this wine and the winemakers (Marcel Lapierre and Jules Cauvet) indicate this wine is made from organically grown grapes, using modern techniques, with no additives. Admirable - yes. Did it pan out in this case? For me, no, but only you can say whether or not it works for you.

All in all, it’s not my favorite wine, but it is intriguing. If you’re looking for a light red to sip in the summer, this might just fit the bill, especially if you like creamy textured wines. Personally, I don’t like that texture, but i still find myself going back for another glass and I don’t do that with all wines. (I’ve been known to open a bottle, take a sip, and be perfectly willing to pour the $20 down the drain.)

Price point:

We got this wine through a wine club where we pay a flat fee per month, but a quick internet search revealed bottles available for between $14 and $20.

2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon

Frenchy French…that’s the call.

When we were looking for a wine to drink tonight, three candidates came to mind a tempranillo, a super Tuscan, and the frenchy French wine. (2007 Marcel Lapierre Morgon for those of you who demand proper accrediting and naming).

Its always fun to open a French wine, there aren’t usually a lot of details on the label, its not always clear what’s in it and this one had a wax dipped top. Bonus! Now that wax dipped top might look nice and all, but frankly, its just a pain in the ass when you are trying to get the thing open. Don’t get me wrong here…. I’m not calling for a screw top revolution, but hey…a foil covered cork just works. It satisfies the ritual elements of opening the wine, without too much hassle, it’s just a nice balance. Yes, yes…tangents, I know.

After going down to the garage for a sawzall, blowtorch and the Jaws of Life to free the cork from its wax tomb, we were ready to pour. Hi, first shock of the night, this wine was a very very light red.

“Is this a rose?” I asked
“I don’t think so” she replied

It’s a tarp!

Ok…ok.. It’s not a rose, its just so damned light it would make a pinot look like a cab. While light, it’s certainly got the distinct brown hue typical of French wines, ready to get to drinking, I raised the glass and swirled. The nose left a lot to be desired, well…that’s assuming that you don’t find the smell of pure rubbing alcohol a pleasant aroma for a wine. The heavy chemical scent aside, the nose was short, without many of the typical fruit flavors, perhaps a slight smoky and earthy nose.

Time for the drinking. Well, dear readers, for the second week in a row, you have been spared from me writing sonnets. It’s interesting; I’ll give it that. Good? Sure…great? Not really. The nose followed through to the pallet, it’s a bit heavy on the alcohol (Yes, I am aware of the irony of me complaining about that, thanks). Past that is where it starts to get interesting. It has that undeniable French mystique that certain “je ne sais quoi”. We actually crushed the bottle of wine in our effort to take its full measure.

It's smooth, it's pleasant on the palette and it's very light on the tannins. I’m not sure I would go out and order it again, but I don’t feel like this research was in vain. If you want an odd wine, and don’t mind turpentine, I’d say give it a go, but honestly there are better things out there to drink. The only caveat to that I have is this; I would love to find an older version of this wine. I think with maturity it might just have enough going on to move it from nondescript to more please.

Pairing note: Smoked Gouda Grilled cheese sammich and tater tots.

Cat Amongst The Pigeons - reviewed by Kerri

The facts:

2007 Cat Amongst the Pigeons – Alley Cat
Region: Barossa Valley, Australia
Winemaker: Mark Jamieson
Variety: 61% Grenache, 39% Shiraz

My take:

I ended up tasting this wine because I was lambasting Australian wines. (In general, I am not a fan of new world style wines - I prefer old world style wines.) Seeking out a glass of wine after a conference and before a dinner meeting, I went to New Heights restaurant, in Washington, DC. After perusing their reds by the glass, I opted for a Spanish wine and started talking with the bartender about wine.

After talking some smack about Australian wines, which I typically find too bold, too fruit forward, and too jammy, the bartener insisted I try the Cat Amongst the Pigeons. I have to say I was pleasantly surprised. So much so that I made Jonathan come back to New Heights with me the following week to check it out.

The wine is much more mellow and subtle than I ever expected from an Australian wine. The wine smells a bit red (you’ll see after reading some of my reviews that I tend to smell in colors), maybe a bit dark or slightly on the purple side. Anyway..., it’s a soft, mellow wine. It’s not too dry, not overly tannic, has some depth in the middle, and has a relatively long finish.

It makes a good sipping wine for sure, but it also pairs well with food. I’ve had it with various cheeses and with steak and in both cases feel like it paired well. All in all, it’s one that I’ve sought out since I first had it – and I never thought I’d actually go looking for an Australian wine in a wine shop. If you’re looking for something unexpected, I highly recommend checking it out.

Price point:

After doing a quick search online, it looks to be between $14 and $20 a bottle.

Cat Amongst The Pigeons - Opined By Jonathan

The facts:

2007 Cat Amongst the Pigeons – Alley Cat
Region: Barossa Valley, Australia
Winemaker: Mark Jamieson
Variety: 61% Grenache, 39% Shiraz


“So I had a good Australian shiraz”

The words still reverberate through my skull…and quite possibly the echoes even might be heard from space one day. A good Australian wine? Is that possible? Sure, I understand on an intellectual level that people:

A: Like Shiraz (who am I to Judge)

B. Like Australian wines (I mean…I’m sure they are good…I mean, when I think of wine, visions of koala bears and platypuses are the first thing that comes to mind)

So given that you could see that, in fact, I was more than a tad dubious. I agreed to go check it out. In general, I’ve never been a fan a Shiraz, maybe a petit syrah (Concannon…. I’m looking in your general direction....) but a Shiraz? Good…sounds a bit strong to me.

“But it was” she said with conviction.

Now with that level of certainty in her voice and a good excuse to go drink some wine, I decided to give it a go. So we hauled ourselves up to New Heights to have a glass.

I asked for a glass of the Cat Amongst the Pigeons, and the bartender starts to wax poetic about it as well. Now I knew something was up, either the pod people had taken over or there was something to this wine.

He poured, I drank.

I’d like to now take a moment and apologize (well…somewhat) for the last 200 words besmirching the honor of this good wine. I was actually fairly impressed. Is it from the northern Rhone, no, is it a good wine, yes. The first thing I noticed was a nose, that while robust, didn’t punch me in the face with the smell of fruit. I thought it had a decent balance of scents, with and undercurrent of subtlety that certainly prompted me to explore it further.

Where this wine really shines for me is in the mouth (as it should). Pull a decent sip, and hold on to it for a moment, letting it wash over your taste buds. Its not particularly tannic, nor seemingly too young. What it has a nice rich velvety texture, but not enough so to write sonnets about, but certainly worth a haiku (minus the effort of getting the syllabic count correct).

I had two glasses of it the first night (for scientific reasons of course) and have subsequently bought another three bottles. For me the bottom line, is: Its tasty and drinkable. It’s a good drinking wine, pleasant; upfront what you see is what you get. Is it exotic? No. But it has a place in our limited wine fridge and is fantastic with tenderloin. Buy it and drink it proudly. This one doesn’t aspire to be anything its not, and certainly calls me back for a second or third glass.

An Intro...of sorts

We decided to start Wine – Two Ways to share our love affair with wine, and to document the adventure that comes with exploring the endless varietals, wineries and wines that seem to be available these days.

What you won't get here are reviews using the traditional 100 point review system or long-winded posts detailing the intimate (and in some cases overly obtuse) descriptions of the nose (was that a cloying hint of blackberry I detected?) trying to list as many fruits as possible to describe it. That, my friends, has been covered exceptionally well by folks much better at it than we are.

What you will get is the experience of the wine (well, our experience anyway), the thoughts that it brings to mind, and a description of taste and scent from our point of view. Wine doesn’t exist in a vacuum, it’s served in a room, consumed by people, and shared with others. All of these things can serve to color or flavor an experience, and that entirety of experience, is what we are hoping to capture.

Jonathan and Kerri