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Posts Tagged ‘Wine’

Thursday night is, arguably, the best night of the week.  Sure, Friday is a work day, but on Thursday night the weekend looms dead ahead, and it’s time to begin the rigorous mental preparation to get into the right frame of mind.

IMG_3173For that reason, I often celebrate Thursday night with a glass or two of reasonably good red wine.  Tonight I’ve cracked open a 2011 Borsao Garnacha, to accompany some brie and blueberries.  I’d like to describe the Borsao as a delightfully presumptuous red . . . but I don’t know what it really means to say a wine as delightfully presumptuous, as the wine connoisseurs often do.  All I know is that the proprietor of the corner wine shop said that the Borsao is a good value at $8.99 a bottle, and I agree with his assessment.

I’ve got the Cowboy Junkies’ excellent The Trinity Session playing on the iPod.  This ultra mellow classic is perfectly suited to prepare the tired worker to slide into the weekend, with every song quiet and echoing and whispered, as if they all were recorded at 2 a.m. in a darkened and smoky studio.

Penny and Kasey have caught my mood and are stretched out, reveling in the moment.  We’ll enjoy tonight and we’ll enjoy tomorrow night even more, because Kish returns home after her brief Florida holiday.

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Rules Of The Road

I have some rules of the road that I typically follow when I’m traveling.  However, there are times when the rules must be broken.

For example, one of my rules of the road is that I don’t eat in my hotel.  I despise room service, and hate the concept of shoveling down food while I’m hunched over a hotel room desks.  I typically go out somewhere, within walking distance of the hotel, to get some fresh air at the end of a long day and enjoy a good meal, besides.  There is a lot more to cities than hotel rooms!

But sometimes the day is just too damn long, and I get to the hotel late.  When that happens, rule #1 goes out the window, and rule #2 gets invoked.  I yield to the hourglass, eat in the hotel restaurant so long as it’s reasonable, and order . . . steak.  I feel I need the protein, and I’m not going to take a chance on some hoity-toity dish with untested, fou-fou sauce.  Give me a well-cooked, medium rare steak and a glass of decent red wine, and I will soldier on.

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Although we sometimes might think so, America doesn’t have an exclusive franchise on nuts and their weird activities.  You can find evidence of the loony element in humanity across the globe.

Consider the fact that, in northern Italy, a winery makes and sells vintages with labels featuring Hitler on the label.  A couple from America found the wine being sold in a grocery store in Garda, Italy and reported it to the authorities.  Local prosecutors reacting to the report have opened an inquiry, but one prosecutor noted that the only possible crime that could have been committed through the sale of “Fuhrerwein” was the crime of “apologizing for fascism” — because Italy made “apologizing for fascism” a crime in 1952.

So, a winery bottles and distributes what is undoubtedly their worst vintage in bottles with Hitler’s pictures, no doubt hoping that they can sell the swill to fascist sympathizers or tourists who will buy the bottles and take them home to show friends as odd curiosities.  The grocery store owner, for his part, says he views the wine as some kind of historical artifact and stocks it, even though he doesn’t sell much, so that people will remember the bad things that Hitler did.  Sure!  The wine probably is stored in the “dictators and genocidal maniacs” aisle of the store, near the Mao Zedong popcorn and the Josef Stalin laundry detergent.

And, perhaps strangest of all, we learn that Italy made apologizing for fascism a crime in 1952.  Perhaps if it weren’t illegal to remember the horrors that were produced by fascist ideology, and express regret and ask forgiveness for them, Italians would have a better understanding of the idiocy and offensiveness of peddling consumer products with Hitler’s image in the first place.

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I’m not a wine snob.  I can distinguish between outright swill, of the $3.99 a bottle variety, and better wines, but my palate’s capabilities end at about the $10 a bottle mark, and from there on up I can’t really appreciate the fine nuances and subtle distinctions that effete wine drinkers claim to enjoy.  Now, a recent taste test suggests I’m not alone, and that wine snobs are faking it.

The taste test follows in the wake of famous blind taste tests of the 1970s, in which experts were unable to distinguish between esteemed French wines and upstarts from California — and indeed, twice selected Stag’s Leap wine over the finest wines of France.  The latest blind taste test contest pitted wines from France against wines from, of all places, New Jersey.  The French wines won, but only barely, against the New Jersey offerings that were 20 times less expensive.

As the New Yorker article linked above demonstrates, there’s lots of evidence that the supposedly educated palates of the wine snobs really are influenced mostly by labels, and that supposed experts will describe the same wine in diametrically different ways, depending on whether a high quality label or one indicating the cheap stuff is attached.  The studies all point to the conclusion that most people really can’t distinguish the high-cost vino from the $10 bottle.  I think that’s right, and that’s why I don’t spend more than $15 a bottle in stores and refuse to buy the outrageously priced bottles in restaurants.

Our friends the Cave-Dweller and his lovely wife soon will be taking a wine-tasting trip to the Napa Valley, to celebrate their 25th anniversary.  Perhaps next year they should head to New Jersey?

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One last point about our New York City adventure:  it taught me a valuable lesson about carefully reading the labels on unfamiliar food products.

We were buying food in the little market near our apartment.  I looked for a bottle of wine and there, in the beer aisle, were a few bottles.  Not much of a selection, and it was a label I didn’t recognize — Chateau Diana — but I reasoned that you cannot properly celebrate the holidays without wine, so I bought a bottle.  After we got the stuff back to the apartment and Russell arrived, he chuckled and explained that we had not bought wine, but instead had purchased something called “wine product.”  New York City residents are clued in, but I’d never heard about it.

Apparently “wine product” exists because the law in New York City doesn’t permit grocery stores to sell real wine.  “Wine product” skirts that law and allows markets to sell a wine-like substance.  New York law describes “wine product” as “a beverage containing wine with added juice, flavoring, water, citric acid, sugar and carbon dioxide, not containing more than six percent alcohol by volume (typically referred to as ‘wine coolers’).”  How many bottles of “wine product” are purchased by unwitting tourists, like us, who are unaware of this nuance of New York law?

After Russell filled us in, I went out and bought some real wine that we enjoyed during our visit.  However, because I was curious, and because I hate to let things go to waste, I did drink the “wine product” one evening.  It was harmless and instantly forgettable — which I guess is the point.  Next time I’m buying wine in the Big Apple, I’ll be wiser.

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It turns out that the Utica Shale natural gas play isn’t the only boom that’s occurring in Ohio.  The Ohio alcohol industry also is growing like crazy.

During the first six months of 2011, Ohio handed out more permits for breweries, wineries, and distilleries than ever before.  There are now 164 wineries, 70 breweries, and 14 producers of spirits in the Buckeye State.  These businesses employ thousands of workers.  Some have been started by families and home brewers who’ve decided to take their hobbies to the next level; others are well-funded operations that seek to capitalize on the growing interest in locally produced food and drink items.

Kish and I seem to run across Buckeye booze everywhere we go.  At the Black Creek Bistro, which prides itself on its local sourcing, the bar serves Ohio-produced liquors.  At Ohioana events, we’ve sampled wines offered by Valley Vineyards, from Morrow, Ohio.    There’s even an “Ohio River Valley Wine Trail,” complete with promotional brochure, that allows the wine connoisseur to visit 10 wineries in the southwestern part of the state.

The local sourcing movement is great for the producer and for the consumer, too.  The locally crafted hooch is of good quality and is non-generic.  You get options that you wouldn’t get from a large, distant commercial manufacturer — and you’re helping your neighbors, besides.

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Who hasn’t idly wondered which countries hammer down the most alcohol?  Thankfully, the World Health Organization has released a report that answers that crucial, nagging question.

Where does the U.S. stack up?  We’re middle-of-the-pack, actually.  Americans consume, on average, 9.4 liters of alcohol per person, per year — about half the average of the booziest nations.  Of that amount, 31 percent is consumed in spirits, 16 percent in wine, and 53 percent in good old beer.  I feel that I have done my share in the beer category, at least.

Who’s number 1?  The wine-swigging French?  Nope, they barely crack the top 15, finishing at number 14.  What about Ireland?  That would be wrong, too — the Irish barely beat out the French, finishing at number 13.  How about our vodka-guzzling Russian buddies?  Closer, but not quite.  The Russians finish at number 4.  No, the top three are Hungary, the Czech Republic, and overall winner Moldova.  The studly Moldovans pound down 18.22 liters of alcohol per capita and they apparently aren’t picky, either:  they drink about as much spirits (4.42 liters) as beer (4.57 liters) and wine (4.67).  In short, Moldovan partiers will be happy to drink just about anything you put in front of them before they collapse.

Where in the world is Moldova, anyway, you ask?  It’s a former part of the Soviet Union, located between Romania and Ukraine.  It’s also so small — only slightly more than 4 million people — that a few serious tipplers could skew the national average.

 

 

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When we took our trip to Italy years ago, Kish and I concluded that it was impossible to get a bottle of bad Italian wine.  Go to any restaurant, get their table wine, and you would inevitably get a very good wine that would sell for a pretty penny in the States.

The cheap wine contestants

My experience this trip suggests that France is the same way.  There is an excellent wine shop right across the street from our apartment.  I’ve purchased several bottles of wine there for between 6 and 9 Euros each (roughly $9.00 to $13.50) and they have been uniformly excellent.  All were French wines from wineries I’d never heard of — and they made me decide to test my theory, with the help of Richard and two of his friends.

First I bought a 2008 Cotes du Rhone for 3.85 Euros — about $5.75. We agreed it also was quite good. Then we put my theory to the acid test last night, by buying a Vieux Papes for 2.95 Euros (about $4.50) and a Cuvee du Pere Bernard for 1.90 Euros (about $2.95).  The Vieux Papes was pretty good, and the Cuvee du Pere Bernard was still decent, although we were probably reaching the outer limits of drinkability and common sense with that purchase.  (I’ve seen the street people of Paris drinking other kinds of wine that undoubtedly were cheaper, and I didn’t really want to go there.)

France therefore finished strong in the cheap wine competition.  There’s probably a bad bottle of French wine somewhere out there, but you’d have to look pretty hard to find it.

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Archaeologists have uncovered the world’s oldest known wine press in southern Armenia.  The wine press was found in a cave and is being dated to 4,000 B.C. — 6,000 years ago.  In short, the wine press is so old that it predates even the rise of the ancient Egyptian civilization.

The archaeologists believe that the wine press produced a dry red vintage using some kind of foot-stomping method.  They also speculate that the wine was a special vintage used in a burial ritual by a complex ancient society.

I think the key facts in the article suggest a different back story.  Those key facts are (1) a cave, (2) wine, and (3) the world’s oldest discarded leather shoe, which also was found in the same cave.  Do those facts sound to you like the ingredients of a burial ritual?  Or, do those signs point to a secret drinking place where the lazy ne’er-do-wells of the tribe could escape to kick off their shoes, stomp a few grapes, guzzle homemade hooch, and enjoy some drunken hilarity with their buddies away from the tribal chief, the high priest, and angry spouses?  To confirm this theory, the archaeologists need only start looking for dice, chicken bones, and signs of ancient graffiti in the vicinity.

The wine press may be 6,000 years old, but human beings really haven’t changed that much over the millennia.

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Rigsby’s

To my mind, it’s an evenly matched struggle between Rigsby’s and Indian Oven in the battle for long-term Columbus restaurant supremacy. Tonight, Kish’s Cousin Jeff was in town, getting ready for tomorrow’s Equality Ohio Statehouse lobbying effort, and he treated us to a fine meal indeed at Rigsby’s. My food featured a delicate Ahi tuna appetizer, an excellent lamb stew and polenta main course, and a subtle cheesecake dessert. The food was, of course, complemented by wonderful company and an exceptional wine value — the Cantina Pedres Cannonau. Truly, there is nothing like being treated to a fine restaurant meal, and an equally fine wine, smack in the middle of the workweek.

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