2010 Giesta Dao

The last time I recall having a Portuguese wine, I was at the Portuguese embassy,and more than a little hammered (true story).  That was back in the early 2000’s, and I was there for a port tasting.  After several hours of trying all the ports the great houses had to offer (and cementing eternally my love for a 20 year tawny port), the Ambassador himself came down to mingle with the guests. After mingling for a while he said a few words about Portugal, their wine industries and then opened some wine for us to try.  A grand night, and an experience I will never forget.  Unfortunately for this story, that evening was quite a bit more interesting than the wine I am about to tell you about.  

The wine is somewhat of a non-event.  Normally I like wines, or I dislike them, usually with more than a few degrees of emotion.  Sadly, this wine elicits none of that from me.  I was excited when I first poured it, the color having a bit of brickness to it, and falling on the more red, than purple side of things.  And perhaps that might be where it really fell down for me, the taste was nothing like what my eyes had already conjured....I was imagining old world wines, with a mystery and complexity that I would spend the evening unravelling on sip at a time.

This was not to be, for the wine was fairly upfront, and fully of cherry.  I don't mind a bit of fruit here or there, but when I see a nice red wine, tantalized with the knowledge that its a blend of three different grapes, I tend to expect more.  And thus the failure, it’s not a bad wine, it’s just not a great one.  Once you work through the initial impressions, you find that there isn’t too much else to it.  As I think about describing the body, the finish, the complexity the only adjectives that come to mind are medium, moderate, middling and mediocre.  While I could certainly continue documenting its lack of interest further, but that would only be serving as an excuse to find how many more alliterations I could use, having developed a sudden fondness for them.  A fondness  that surely was developed by the hole in my affections left by this vintage.

2008 Tormaresca Neprica

It’s high time we reviewed this wine. Kerri picked this one up on a lark and the first time we had it, I felt more like drinking and less like reviewing, so it was consumed sans documentation. Since we found it interesting and wanted to review it Kerri bought us another bottle.

I drank that one when she wasn’t looking. (This may have happened twice, I lose track sometimes.. but hey…who’s counting) So another bottle(s) was procured to provide the source material for this missive.

While the name is a bit kitschy for my liking, with Neprica being an amalgamation of the grapes in the wine (Negroamaro, Primitivo, Cabernet) it immediately meets one of my criteria for wines I want to drink; exotica grapes. While I suppose grapes are not exactly exotic in nature, there are varietals that you don’t tend to see every day. I find these days that I love to explore wines that are not primarily Cabs, Merlots, Pinot Noirs etc.. Given that, here we have a solid candidate with old world grapes chock full of Italian blended mystery.

Ever since running into one at Proof in D.C. I have been a sucker for a Negroamaro. There is something mysterious in the name itself, that, for me, seems to be passed down into the wine. You don’t see them every day, but in poking around in stores with a decent Italian wine selection you are sure to find them. The Negroamaro is native to southern Italy, and as such, is one more reason I need to go there.

In describing the wine, I am going to skip the usual aromatic metaphors, as I believe there are professionals out there paid to do just such a thing, and go with a visual instead. This wine, is like red satin sheets on a waterbed in a candle lit room. Think about that for a bit. I’d go into more detail, but honestly, at that point, I’d just be adding unnecessary words to a beautifully crafted image, one that is wholly sufficient to describe my impressions of this wine.

I’m a huge fan of this wine, and at under $10 there is no reason you shouldn’t have a bottle or four in your wine fridge, rack, cabinet, cupboard, sock drawer, or where ever else it is that you store your wines.

2007 Chateau Sainte Eulalie Plaisir d'Eulalie

Light and Thin.

Now this would probably be a compliment if I were talking about a white wine, but since I am talking about red maybe not so much. Interestingly enough, when I first poured the wine, it had almost no nose and very little flavor, time and a bit of warming up fixed that (the whole wine fridge being stuck at 52 thing and all…).

Once it had a bit to open up, it got a bit better, but I am still going to stick with the light and thin comment. Honestly, I cant think of any other way to describe it, and in its defense, the thinness is a gliding, dancing thinness rather than the anemic fragility that plagues, say a Pinot or a Tempranillo. Which at least makes for some semblance of depth of character, but it's a bit like second place, sure you gave it your all...but you still didn't win.

What this wine lacks, unfortunately, is perhaps what I crave most in wine, and what keeps me opening cork upon cork; mystery, depth, a sense of exploration. There are wines that when you drink them, defy understanding on the first taste. They require study, exploration, spelunking through the caverns of complexity that they offer. This is what I seek (well…at least when I am not just drinking for the sake of it), and what this wine fails to provide me with.

I realize, that I have said more about what the wine is not, rather than what it is; I shall correct that now. It’s light, it’s definitely French, and at temperature, it makes for decent sipping wine.

The bottom line: This wine fails to inspire me, I’m not sure I would pick it over the Concannon, or my new love the Neprica (I promise we’ll review that soon. We’ve tried to twice but ended up having such a great time hanging out and enjoying it that it just hasn’t happened yet), but the Plaisir d'Eulalie doesn’t suck, and we didn’t pour it out. I'll label it decent, but not my thing.

2005 Surfrider Red

Surfrider!

Yes, you did indeed read correctly. I just had a wine called Surfrider. Normally, the mere name would knock it off my radar, and my wine fridge as I (a) have an aversion to wines with stupid names, and (b) an aversion to wines with stupid labels. However, that being said, every month I get two bottles of random wine in the mail, and apparently they have a better sense of humor than I do (or a love of variety...but hey...details right?), which would indicate how this whole affair came to be.

Sidebar – Note to wineries

Labels with funny pictures, or strange logos, or pictures of cats, or Studabakers with a surfboard coming out are unlikely to sway me into purchasing your wine. I don’t like surfing, I like California even less, and while I do adore kitties I suspect they would get in the way of my wine glass, and thus might detract from the drinking experience. Pro Tip: Include the grapes, their percentage and the amount of time your wine was in oak, the wines name, and your name. Nothing else is necessary.

That out of the way, Surfrider came to us by way of our wine club. It espouses to be a Californian Bordeaux wine (by varietal composition). The wine comes out in a rich red color, and a slightly fruity nose, and while I don’t normally get into this sort of thing, its chock full of cherry. It’s a good competent wine, and it’s well made, and very drinkable. The balance is nice and the tannin level is near perfect. It’s really just a bit one note for me. It’s pleasant, well mannered and tasty. It is also lacking in anything vaguely akin to soul. The wine is devoid of any personality or interest past being a delightful beverage.

Bottom line: It’s tasty, I’m going to drink it, and marvel at how well balanced it is, but for the $25 price I’m going for a Reserva Malbec, or Rhone wine.

2008 Carmen Carmenere

Its not a bad wine, and likely I will finish the bottle (that probably more about me liking to drink wine and less about this one), but here is my one sentence review:

If I saw it on a menu, I’d pick something else.

It’s not particularly notable; it doesn’t really stand out in any particular category. If there is anything I did notice it’s the green pepper aspects that really seem to overpower this particular wine. With each sip I am amazed at how “green” tasting this robust purple wine is. You get pepper in the nose, and green pepper on the taste buds with a nice long finish, which while pleasant, is also not particularly remarkable.

The bottom line, it’s a well crafted wine, smooth and balanced. I just don’t think its appeals to my leanings. I recognize the quality in it, but it’s just not my thing.

2007 Trivento Amado Sur

I love this wine…. A lot.

Granted, that is somewhat of a spoiler, and by somewhat, I mean a complete one. But I figured I would go ahead and proclaim my undying devotion to it upfront.

See….I have had this wine before. Specifically, this would be my third bottle. Kerri bought the first bottle in a random batch of wines to review, and due to its Malbecness, it got ganked from the wine fridge one Friday night when she wasn’t looking. Well…it’s not like I had to sneak past an armed guard for it. Kerri typically isn’t a huge fan of the Malbec, but I do so adore them. So when its Friday night, and I raid the fridge she’s usually more than happy to let me be the guinea pig for it. And, of course, when I raved about it she went out and bought another bottle so we could review that one.

And then another Friday came, and I absconded with that bottle too. (well…it might have been a Tuesday, but that is neither here nor there…)

More determined than ever to review this wine, she hit the store and returned with two bottles, knowing that if she let me near the fridge without supervision, one of them was likely to meet an untimely demise.

A round about way to get here certainly, but I for one enjoy the recanting of the story almost as much as my participation in it. I suppose, in this particular case I can say with just as much enjoyment, by way of said third bottle, and the review that seems to be going on right about now (or would rather, if I stopped telling stories and started being more descriptive….)

The Amado Sur is just simply fantastic. The bottle has this little “89” sticker, which is probably about 10 too low the way that I see it. Typically Malbecs run big bold and jammy, this one…not so much. If I were blindfolded and asked where this wine was from I would probably say France, and I would call it a Grenache and Syrah blend. Yes my friends, this Malbec is, in fact, that subtle. It is gentle and soft on the palette, and when drunk you can almost feel the flavors gently massaging your taste buds.

The flavor is slightly sweet, and slightly dark. I find it to be well balanced with a large amount of nuance, and little in terms of bold defining characteristics. And this is why I am on my third bottle (research of course). With each glass I feel like I am chasing the most elusive of definitions, needing to understand the breadth of what is going on in this wine. And with each glass I am sucked further into the rabbit hole, willingly and joyfully compelled to examine it further and to philosophize more deeply about its nature.

If I had to find fault with this wine, it would be the nose. I find it a bit sharp, a bit heavy on the alcohol. That aside, this one is a must buy for fans of Grenache and for fans of the Malbec. To date, this wine stands as the most sophisticated Malbec I have had yet, and I am heartened knowing there is another bottle sitting in my fridge.

2004 TheBlend of Poggiotondo

I’m going to dispense with my usual lead in, and get right down to business with this one. A blizzard was bearing down on us and Kerri was kind enough to pick up a random wine for us to review. Now here is the thing about random, you really have an equal choice of getting a good wine, or a bad wine. Fate wasn’t on our side with this one.

It’s a blend (40% Sangiovese, 30% Merlot, 30% Syrah), and normally when I think of blends, I imagine layers of flavor deftly woven together. In this wine blend was probably closer to the flavors you used to get as a child, when you went into 7-11 and filled you cup from equal portions of the various fountain soda taps. There are a lot of flavors in this wine ranging from the passably acceptable to “why in gods name am I drinking this”.

The nose, is equally as interesting (in the way that a twelve car pile up on the freeway is interesting) with a heavy level of alcohol mixed in with black cherry or currants.

What really killed it for us was the taste. It starts fairly fruity, and quite frankly turns to ash in your mouth. After less than a glass, I’m packing it in and putting this one down the drain.

Sometimes a $10 wine, isn’t even worth that much, this is one of those times.

2007 Canneto Rossa Di Montepulciano

Frankly, I was a bit stumped about how to start talking about this wine. It’s good, certainly serviceable, but the lead in… the hook was escaping me.

I was sitting on the couch, sipping the wine, contemplating that special moment when the wine first tickles your nervous system. That first gentle warm flirtation of sensation that lets you know you have reached that slightly altered state. I had been discussing the wine (and my difficulty in describing it) with Kerri, when I blurted “I don’t like being punched in the mouth with fruit, but I do like something to chew on”.

Now, out of context, it might sound a bit strange, and as you have come for answers, I intend to provide them. The Canneto is long on finish, and what starts as a nominal experience when first sipped, lingers and gathers steam as the wine slides down the back of the throat. What starts as a gentle earthy caress of flavor, rolls into a significant finish robust, hearty and even a bit jammy. That gets me to the description of my above quote. By and large, I tend to not be fond of overly fruity wines, and certainly not any wine that gets described as “fruit forward”. This particular wine has the strength and body of that type of wine, but without the cheapness that comes from leading with a mouthful of jam. It has all of the elegance and passion that comes from a full host of flavor, but the sophistication to tease you up front, and then draw out the enjoyment over long finish.

Overall, I like this wine. I think the nose is interesting, and the flavor more so. I tend to favor wines that open up and reward persistence and exploration, and this fits that mold handily. The Canneto delivers well as a sipping wine, and for pairings, I would lean probably more to the winery's suggestions of more rustic (and less heavily spiced) foods. This is going to go in the buy it if you see it category.

2008 Rocca Bella Negroamaro

A darkly enticing aroma. I wrote that just as a note to myself just by way of a note to begin the writing process. I was going to embellish it some and string it into a long metaphor, involving candle lit swanky bars with muted electronic down-tempo playing, with fez wearing fashionistas smoking clove cigarettes, but that seemed a bit much, so we will just have to settle for using it as the wine blog equivalent of “it was a dark and stormy night”.

So my love of the Negroamaro started at Proof on either our second or third visit there. They had one by the glass and I was absolutely smitten by it. This leads me to the greatest and worst thing about Proof. Their wine list is constantly changing, and its not uncommon to have a different line up on two visits in the same month. Alas the next time we went, literally three weeks later, my new love was gone a dim memory in the backlighting of their glass bar.

Unfortunately, as it is not a particularly common grape, the odds of running into one are somewhat akin to a chance encounter with either the Loch Ness monster or an Australian wine worth drinking. If you see one on a menu, I highly recommend stopping what ever you are doing and ordering a glass, a bottle, or better yet a nebakanezer immediately.

So, I started with the aroma, and I think I will pick back up there. As mentioned it has a somewhat dark aroma, with an air of cherry and earthiness to it. Much like tawny port, this would be a wine that I am content to swirl in a glass and living in the luxuriousness that is the nose of this divine beverage.

The color would be a deep dark rich red, and with less than half a glass in me, I feel compelled to go to the garage, get a ladder, climb up to the roof and proclaim my love for this wine loudly for all to hear. Alas, drinking and ladders don’t go together, nor would my neighbors take kindly to a crazy man shouting about wine from the top of his house. That being said, you could probably label me as a fan.

Opened up, and in the glass this wine becomes increasingly expressive. Starting with what would be best described as the most fleeting of gently sour notes, giving way to an enveloping array of subtle, yet strong flavors. I would speak of them individually, but to do so would less their entirety. Suffice to say cherries are involved in a way that legitimizes that much maligned fruit (I should note, I don’t think cherries are actually much maligned, it just sounded good, and I don’t tend to like them.) and the finish is a long drawn out affair that serves to slow down consumption and to draw out the enjoyment of this wine.

I’m not sure what the availability is like in general, but we picked this one up at our corner liquor store (one that isn’t known for its wine selection) and I know I will be heading back up their to take their remaining stock.

2006 Chateau Lamothe de Haux Bordeaux Rouge

So sometimes, a wine needs to open up a bit before you truly can enjoy it. You know that kind of wine? This one isn’t it. Now, that’s not to say that a little air, a little warmth, a little time hasn’t effected it, they did, and unfortunately it made it suck a bit more than it did when I tried at a 55 degrees.

So I am going to do two reviews. It’s like a twofer for you my beloved readers.

Review 1. Wine straight out of the wine fridge and a mellow 55 degrees (Yes I am aware that’s too cold, but the thermostat on the fridge doesn’t work, and they are expensive, so unless you are going to send me a big fat check for a new one, that’s the temperature this wine is getting reviewed at).

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It was like a non-wine really, a grape colored slightly alcoholic starter wine for those who are afraid of flavor. Hardly any nose to speak of, with a watery semi-grape smell. The color was decent, on the red side of thing (as opposed to the purple). I think the tap water I was drinking actually had more flavor then it did.

Review 2. 35-40 minutes later after dinner.

It was like things went from bad to worse, excepting, of course, that it wasn’t really bad before hand, just kind of “meh”. So, I guess that’s from meh to bad then, or is that from meh to worse? Details.... Once opened up it moved from no nose, to a decided aroma of wet leaves. Not wet leaves in that “gee isn’t fall great” kind of way, but more like in that “what’s that smell” kind of way. The flavor went from “upfront, short and unremarkable” to a slow lingering tannic assault that besmirches the good name of all of the wines that have gone before it.

Fine…..maybe that last sentence was pure literary hyperbole so that I can flex my previously declared universal poetic license, but suffice to say the wine just isn’t really that good. In fact, if you ever decide to try this wine, maybe have a shot of tequila or three first, I suspect it will heighten the enjoyment immensely.

2005 Concannon Limited Reserve Petite Syrah

So I have a dirty little secret. It weighs on me heavily at times, and today is the day that I free myself from its crushing weight. Given that, I think perhaps its best to just put it out there before I go on.

Our house/table wine is Californian and I love it dearly.

Yes…yes… I know it may come as a shock, and I can certainly understand why it does. I spend more time talking shit about Californian wines than I do writing sonnets about French ones. And while I am sure this admission will bring jeers, this wine is certainly worth enduring the mockery that comes from my love affair with a left coast wine. That being said, we ran into this wine as the DC International Wine Expo a couple of years ago, and to this date I don’t think any wine we have had at a large venue tasting has had such a a lasting impact on me. It’s the Concannon Limited Release Petite Syrah, and I think its wonderful.

There I said it. Its like a weight has been lifted from me.

The gentleman who was pouring it was pushing the distributing wine group's Big House series of jail themed wines (true story….) and mentioned that the Concannon was the lesser known “off brand” (As a slight tangent, I cant think of anything that makes less sense than jail themed wines other than say….a Wookie on Endor, but hey, they do silly things out in Cali so who am I to judge). As you would expect the big house wines sucked being single note, huge and jammy as is the coin that Californian wines typically trade in. It was this off brand however that really did capture my attention, and I dare say undying devotion. The moniker off brand does this wine a great disservice, but hey, that’s how it was presented.

First and foremost it’s a Petite Syrah. For those of you not in the wine industry, a Petite Syrah is basically like a Syrah (or Shiraz) that doesn’t suck….or maybe I am just editorializing a tad. Regardless, the wine is a rich red tending more towards the purple, and the nose is fruity and light. The flavor is where it shines for me. I find it incredibly soft on the palette, so much so, in fact, that you can fill your mouth with wine holding it there without a hint of tannins or alcohol, simply meditating on the soothing blend of soft complexity. With air pulled across said mouthful, again we are treated to a dizzyingly complex array of flavors and aromas without the least hint of overbearing tannins. The complexity, the softness, and ease with which this wine goes about it's busniss all belie its modest price tag, and are what make it shine in otherwise crowded wine racks.

For the record I am well aware that I am swooning over a $13 wine. Did I mention the price? While not a dollar twice (but granting, that the reaction is indeed satisfaction) the Concannon is a steal. It’s widely available, and infinitely drinkable, and for those nights that you want a glass (or three) of wine and don’t feel like getting into something new you cant beat it. It’s also widely available, finding its home in most reputable wine shops, as well as grocery stores.

I love it, and don’t think I have had more bottles of any single wine other than this one. Which makes sense, because if I had the same number of bottles of $30 bottles of wine, I would need to force Kerri to get a second job. To summarize, you are unlikely to find a wine of the complexity and character in this price range. And if by some miracle you did manage to make that happen, it’s likely that you would be telling me about it when you showed me your pictures of the Loch Ness Monster, Leprechauns and Big foot.

Run out to buy a bottle or six now.

2007 Il Cuore Rosso Classico

They say packaging is important, that it can draw you in and make you want to purchase or try a product. Or…. if you are me, it also has the possibility to make you completely discount a product and write it off entirely. Meet my friend Il Cuore. They decided to jazz up their label and put hearts all over the bottle. I'd say I'm not sure why, but the sheet we got with wine club went into detail about it, and its a bunch of crap that some clod in marketing wrote to try and justify it...or they are just chumps. True story. We aren’t talking about just one heart here, there are no less than 5 hearts on the bottle, the foil is even emblazoned with a heart. Awwww…. how precious. Gee…. maybe the hearts will prompt me to pick it for a romantic occasion OR maybe they will warm my black heart and get me all sentimental. Or more likely they will give me yet another reason to talk shit about Californian wines and reinforce my theory that they are, by and large, so devoid of character that they need to resort to clever packaging to ever have a chance of leaving the shelf when there are French, Spanish, or Italian wines in stock.

Ok…I feel better now. Or not. Hearts people…. Seriously? Why not just put a kitten on there? Or an Alien! With Lasers! And a robot. Now, that my friend, is a wine I would buy just because of the label! I should note I did, in fact, once buy a wine called Nostradamus, because A. It came in a clay jug, and B. It's named Nostradamus, and who isn’t going to buy an Eastern European wine named after the premier soothsayer of our time. I’m not sure that’s a good thing to admit but it’s neither here nor there.

On the plus side it’s a blend, weighing in with a good 51% Syrah 26% Zinfandel and 12% Sangiovese. Now I likes me some blends, and if anything can save a Cali wine, its going to be mixing some grapes together. And it works here for the most part.

Poured, the wine splashes into the glass with a warm purple-red hue. Its rich and dark and when swirled clings longingly to the side of the glass. The nose comes off a bit grapey for me but surprisingly low on the alcohol aroma. I wouldn’t call the aroma particularly complex, one good sniff and swirl and you can pretty much get its full measure.

Time to taste.

Gut reaction:
The wine deserves a better label. It doesn’t really suck badly enough to be festooned with brick brack and a cubist doily for a label. I found the syrah to give it a nice soft base on the pallet with the zinfandel punching it up and providing some wow factor (I’d note, that wow factor for me is typically unnecessary and generally what I dislike about Californian wines, I prefer them subtle). I don’t quite know what the Sangiovese is adding, but I found the wine to be balanced and there was no flavor or aroma that was glaringly out of place. It’s smooth, medium bodied and drinkable. Ultimately, the wine ends up being a bit jammy for my tastes, but if you tend to like the offerings of our Western coast, then you might want to give this one a try.

And one of these days, if you all behave and eat your vegetables like you are supposed to, I will let you in on my dirty little secret and tell you about the Californian wine I adore.

2007 Onix Classic

Ok ok… So when I said I got dragged out a while back for a “good” Australian wine that wasn’t exactly accurate. Truth be told, I was lured out to New Heights with the promise of two interesting wines. The first being the aforementioned Cat amongst the pigeons, and the second, being the topic of this particular missive.

So we actually had the Onix a while back, and never really got around to reviewing it. Sadly my notes on the original tasting were lost when I decided to erase the notes on my blackberry to make room for directions for a thousand mile ride in the rain (of course at the time I didn’t know it was going to rain, but that’s neither here nor there). That being said, I couldn’t in all good conscience review the wine without trying it again. That gets us to snag #1.

Snag #1 New Heights has Gin….lots of it. We went back, I tried it again and got derailed by cocktails. Win some; lose some…that’s my motto, and hell who isn’t willing to try a third time. And this, dear reader, is where we ran into snag #2.

Snag #2 nobody carries it. Now if my gin soaked memories served me correctly, it was pretty good and I want to take a crack at it while at the keyboard so that I could transcribe its loveliness into prose so I would just pop down to the store and grab a bottle and review it again (in the name of science of course). The problem with that being, we couldn’t really find it anywhere locally. That is, of course, until Kerri’s brother completely randomly found it and bought it for her as a thank you gift for babysitting.

So bottle in fridge, it was time for a reckoning. Well…a reckoning less in the OK Corral kind of way and more in a, hey let's have some wine!

So it’s a Garnacha and Carinena blend, which in my book would bode well. Pulling it out of the fridge and pouring a glass brings you a wine that is surprisingly purple, and I wasn’t really ready for that. Swirling it around in proper hoity toity fashion gives off a somewhat fruitier nose than I was I was expecting. Color me unimpressed. Right about then I was wondering what I saw in it the first two times that had me coming back for thirds. I needed to think about this and take its full measure in, there had to have been something to it but I wasn’t getting it from a sippy sip.

After pouring a glass and relaxing, letting it open up if you will, I am now in firm belief that my wine fridge is just too cold. It was free, and the temp knob doesn’t really work, and I am thinking 55 is just too cold (its stuck there). So warmed up and opened up, here is what I thought (Yes I know it took 500 words to get to the wine, but honestly its more entertaining this way and you didn’t really have anything better to do).

It's old world, first and foremost. That fruit sensation and nose declines greatly once it opens up, and I am sure if I were a true wine snob, I might actually describe it as blossoming, but since I’m not, I won't. The fact remains however that this wine does well with some time and some air. So much so, that I now recall why I am having it for the third time. Why you say? Simply put, this wine doesn’t suck. I am going to put it on my list of wines that everyone should try at least once. I wont say go out and buy a case, but seriously think about having a romp through the hills of Priorat (yes its hilly there, and yes I did look that up just to make that joke work). Beyond that, I’d like to see this wine again in say 5 or so years (or maybe find a bottle from say 2000-2004) I suspect with a little age, it might go from “ok” to love in a bottle.

We had it with no pairings any time we drank it, but I can see it with a big chunk of Manchego and a pile of Chorizo.

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 - 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.