The prospect of a nearly-exclusive animal-based meal got me to wondering what to select as the alcoholic accompaniment.  I could have safely selected a Burgundy, or a Beaujolais, but instead I went for another B: a Bollinger “Special Cuvee” Brut Champagne.

Many commentators have noted that Champagne and other sparkling wines are rather underutilized pairing partners for food.  This is a shame, as a brut (not sweet) Champagne is perhaps one of the most versatile wines: the mineral notes in a good Champagne can serve as a perfect complement to oysters, for instance, while the effervescence can enliven the palate after a rich bite of ribeye.  

The Bollinger Special Cuvee–their standard non-vintage bottling–is composed of mostly Pinot Noir, followed by Chardonnay and then a bit of Pinot Meunier.  Like Krug, Bollinger ages its Champagne in oak and experiences some malolactic fermentation, so there’s both quite a bit of toastiness and richness.  (Unlike Krug, it is about $60 retail.)  This wine was full, creamy, with just a hint of green apple and lemon.  Apparently, James Bond is fond of Bollinger: I can see why.

As for the restaurant: excellent.  Be sure to get the pork belly sandwiches.  The pork belly is melt-in-your-mouth tender and was the best thing I tried that evening–besides, of course, the wine.  Other standouts were the pig tails “buffalo style” (impossibly crisp, with a very spicy, nicely vinegary sauce) and, interestingly enough for such a restaurant, the brussels sprouts with pancetta, parmesan, and a soft-poached egg.

Boom.

It’s not every day one gets to drink a grand cru Burgundy.  Then again, it’s not every day that one is in Berkeley.  I decided to take a short trip up to Berkeley for New Year’s, though I don’t know anyone here anymore (a fact driven home by the fact that I had a solitary–though excellent–meal at the fantastic Trattoria Corso on North Shattuck, which will be the subject of another post), to get out of LA and recharge my batteries for the full onslaught of 2013.

As some of you might recall, I had purchased an older Clos Vougeot (maybe 1991?  1994?) at MacArthur Beverages in DC.  I had been excited about that one, but drinking it revealed that it was past its prime and had been on the decline for a while.  I found out after the fact that Clos Vougeot, though a grand cru vineyard, encompasses a large area, much of which is not, in the opinion of many wine critics, truly grand cru level.

So when the wine rep at North Berkeley Wine Imports steered me toward yet another Clos Vougeot, I hesitated for a moment (obviously, my bias is wildly unfair, but perhaps more understandable given the price points).  But she was insistent that Raphet was a fantastic producer and that this particular Clos Vougeot would be magical.

Thank God I gave it a second chance!

Fortunately, I wasn’t alone for this wine.  I had it with my friend James and two of his friends out in Rockridge.  These particular friends lived in a cottage which was hosting another friend (not present) and his cat, and because both James and I are ridiculously allergic to cats, we drank while standing on the front porch, which added to the charm.

This wine was gorgeous.  I opened it a few hours prior at Trattoria Corso (to let it breathe), and the first traces of its bouquet escaped, reminding me of catching the scent of a beautiful woman’s perfume.  This initial impression was confirmed later: the nose was tremendously complex and yet fragile, in a way.  It was full of lavender, spice, a trace of earth, and already the first sign of bottle age.

This wine had an extraordinarily elegant mouthfeel, light and silky, yes, but also possessing very fine tannins that, while noticeable, belied structure and grace rather than mere oak.  In the mouth, cranberry, green herbs, stone, and even, interestingly, a trace of freshly-cut green apple.  Long finish and very satisfying resolution.

I won’t have the opportunity to have this particular wine–or very many other grands cru–anytime soon, but if you do, don’t turn it down.  Seek it out, or seek out any of Raphet’s other wines.  Apparently, they are also all excellent.

I was invited to check out Lucky Devils and was very happy to do so; I remember having some beers there years ago, but I am much more a fan of wine than beer, and am a huge proponent of wines served on tap (which is economical, much better for the environment, and helps ensure very fresh wine).

The space is great: in keeping with its name, the color palette is red.  There’s a very long bar, tables, and booths.  There are a large number of beers on tap, a full assortment of hard liquor, and 16 wines on tap (which is double the number at Father’s Office).  In terms of ambience, it would be a good place for both dates and office happy hours.

I sat down to quite a reception from the proprietor of Lucky Devils, who, not coincidentally, is named Lucky.  Lucky has had an interesting life to say the least: he was an Army Ranger, model/actor, and now a restaurant owner.

The first glass was the 2010 Acrobat Pinot Gris from Oregon, a wonderfully fresh white with notes of lime and grass.  Full of zippy acidity, this was one of my favorite wines of the evening.  It came accompanied by a fully-loaded “nosh plate” that featured spicy hummus, flatbread, house-smoked almonds, Fiscalini bandage-wrapped cheddar, and an assortment of pickled vegetables:

The smoked almonds were killer, and the Fiscalini cheddar was superb–reminded me of the Cabot Clothbound cheddar we sold at Marlow & Daughters.

Next up were a trio of grilled cheese sandwiches.  The first was a goat cheese, provolone, pesto, and thyme butter sandwich with the 2011 Royal Palm Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon.  The second was a house-smoked white cheddar and tomato chutney sandwich with the 2010 Morning Light Sangiovese Rosé. The third was the “Lucky Grilled Cheese”, chock full of smoked cheddar and beer-caramelized onions.  This was paired with the 2011 Baileyana Chardonnay.

It was hard to choose my favorite sandwich because each was good in its own way.  It’s like choosing a favorite child, I suppose.  I really appreciated the thyme butter in the first sandwich, and the tomato chutney was very distinctive.  I think that each of the wines paired well with its respective sandwich.  The Royal Palm was my favorite of the three wines.  It resembled a solid white Bordeaux and was very easy to drink.

As if the grilled cheese sandwiches were not enough, next up were a trio of flatbread pizzas.  The first was a goat cheese, pesto, and cheddar pizza accompanied by the 2010 Shannon Ridge Sauvignon Blanc.  The second was a gruyere, bacon, and onion pizza accompanied by the 2009 Morning Light Sangiovese.  The third was a buttermilk blue cheese, fresh fig, and chipotle porter reduction pizza accompanied by the 2010 Acrobat Pinot Noir.  My God, these were great pizzas:

My favorite pizza was the one with the fresh figs: it hit so many of the right notes for me, with the contrast between the salty-savory blue cheese and the cleanly-sweet figs.  My favorite of the three wines was the Sangiovese, which was nicely complex with damp earth mixed in with cherries.  I liked the Pinot on its own, but didn’t think the pairing with the blue cheese pizza was optimal.

By this point I was absurdly full, but Lucky had saved the best for last: three full-sized burgers, each swaddled in a glistening brioche bun, and each paired with a wine.  The patties were seven ounces of grass-fed Snake River Farms kobe beef.

This is when I fell in love with Lucky Devils.  The burgers were superb.

The first burger had bacon, caramelized onions, and a blackberry reduction that hit me with a sweet caress after the initial onslaught of greasy goodness.  I washed down the two or three bites I could manage with a few sips of the 2010 Kemiji Pinot Noir, which was a good pairing with its blackberry and lavender notes.

The second burger had white cheddar, tomato chutney, crisp-fried onions, and barbecue sauce.  Oh man, this was a slap in the face to Carl’s Jr.  The 2009 Silvertap Zinfandel was probably my favorite wine of the evening.  Zin gets a bad rap, but it can be both fun and serious.  This one was full of raspberry jam, spice, and had medium tannins; it was a smooth, full wine that I would have been content to drink all day.  It was perfect with the barbecue sauce, too.

The last burger was the aptly-named “Diablo burger”: it featured white cheddar, double-smoked bacon, avocado, wild arugula, hot sauce, and thousand island dressing.  This burger was insanely messy and packed a discernable kick.  It reminded me of a spicy California roll.  This one was accompanied by the 2008 Fulton Lane Cabernet Franc.

By this point I was full of bacon, cheese, multiple sauces, and wine.  I was quite the Lucky Devil myself for making it out of there without a heart attack.

I would highly recommend Lucky Devil.  As mentioned above, it would make both a good casual date place and an awesome office happy hour spot.  It’s comfortable, and there’s very attentive service (thanks Jared!).  There’s not much street parking in the area, but there’s valet and public lots nearby.  Grab some friends, carpool, and get lucky!

LUCKY DEVILS TAVERN
6613 Hollywood Blvd.
Los Angeles, CA 90028

RECOMMENDATIONS:
- Diablo burger
- Anything with thyme butter
- 2010 Acrobat Pinot Gris
- 2009 Morning Light Sangiovese (if you like lighter red wines)
- 2009 Silvertap Zinfandel (if you like bolder red wines)

Sometimes life doesn’t work out the way we want it to, or plan it to.  Sometimes it gets away from us.  One of the compelling things about wine is that it is not only about the bottle, or the grape: wine means something.  Without wine, at least for me, I would lose one way to look at and appreciate life.

I bought this bottle, one of a triumphal lineup from MacArthur Beverages, to celebrate a new professional opportunity.  I wanted to drink it in DC, but circumstances conspired to have me bring it on my travels instead.

Pure and lean, restrained entry followed by a fragile, beautiful blooming of black fruit, held by the suggestion of cedar and graphite.  Some notes, young and pure, of eucalyptus and green bell pepper.  In short, a classic California Cabernet that was beautiful in its quiet. I preferred this wine over the Robert Craig I had had previously, though the Craig had more power and was seductive in its soft texture and richness.

Buy this bottle, and share it.  Remind yourself of what you have in this life, and what makes it worth living.

That doesn’t do Lee Morgan justice.  Great bop trumpeter, much better at his chosen profession than I’ll ever be at anything I do, probably!

As for the juice: a “Bordeaux blend” that is more California than France, consisting of 86% Cab Sauv, 6% Petit Verdot, 5% Merlot, 2% Malbec, and 1% Cab Franc.  Wow, when was the last time you had a Bordeaux blend from Bordeaux that had Malbec?

Dark, saturated color with a nose full of that California Cab mint/eucalyptus, green vegetable, cassis, dark berries.  Extremely smooth and rich on the entry, with readily-apparent but well-integrated oak.  A touch of sweetness and baking spice from the oak, with a full mouthfeel and moderate-long finish that ends with bittersweet cacao.  Very elegant, big but not too big, this one will please any lover of stereotypical late-90s to aughts California Cabs.  It’s not a classically-styled California Cab (that’s more of the Mount Eden, whose post I will have to put up soon), but good for the autumn days that are surely waiting for us around the corner.

Grab yourself some jazz, a bottle of the Affinity, and get, as they would have said in Morgan’s day, “stoned.”  Or drink it with a steak.  That would work too.

From left to right: 2005 Trimbach “Cuvée Frédéric Emile” Riesling, 2010 Broc Cellars “Cuvee 12.5″, 2006 Paolo Bea “Rosso de Véo” Sagrantino, 1996 Christian L. Remoissenet Clos Vougeot Grand Cru, 2007 Mount Eden Vineyards Santa Cruz Mountains Cabernet, and 2006 Ridge “Monte Bello” Cabernet.  I didn’t buy the Broc or Paolo Bea at MacArthur; I also bought during my trip to MacArthur, however, a bottle each of Gruet Blanc de Noirs and Brut sparking wines and a bottle of Broadbent Vinho Verde.

Needless to say, I couldn’t wait to start going through these wines.  As Mary Kate and I were having turkey, I decided to go for the Riesling first.

Much has been written about Trimbach and the Frédéric Emile.  Trimbach is a venerable Alsatian institution known for its Riesling, Gewurztraminer, and Pinot Gris.  Their Cuvée Frédéric Emile, named after one of their forbears who was instrumental in improving the quality of Trimbach wines back in the late 1800s, is one of Trimbach’s top bottlings: the mythical “Clos St. Hune” is rarer and dearer and, alas, was unavailable at the store.  Frédéric Emile comes from the south- and south-east facing Geisberg and Osterberg vineyards, where the average age of the vines is 45 years.  The soil is a combination of marl, limestone, sandstone, and “fossil-flecked Muschelkalk”, which translates to shellbearing limestone.

The Frédéric Emile poured light straw and had light viscosity.  The nose was powerful and smelled tangy and full of minerals; ripe tropical fruits and bright citrus; something definitely floral, too, but all surrounded by petrol, petrol, petrol.  On the palate, this wine was almost overwhelmed by minerals, clay, and petrol, with acidity coming on only after it was swished around in the mouth.  Dry, with the only discernible fruit being maybe some pineapple or tangerine.  The fruit was definitely in the backseat to the minerals and petrol, however, and while I could appreciate that it was a very serious, well-constructed wine, I could also agree with the professional reviewers (for instance, the Wine Advocate and IWC) that this wine seemed to be entering a trough from which it would only emerge years down the line.  I should like to try older vintages of this wine; they should be extraordinary.  Drunk young, it was almost like a punch in the face (a soft one, yes, but still a punch in the face).

2005 Trimbach “Cuvée Frédéric Emile” Riesling, available at MacArthur Beverages for $49.99.

]]> http://vinicultured.com/2012/09/01/enough-is-enough-the-2005-trimbach-cuvee-frederic-emile-riesling/feed/ 9 Joon Song Santa IS real (and his name is American Express). The Frédéric Emile http://vinicultured.com/2012/07/19/learning-to-get-past-my-fear-of-italian-wine-or-the-2010-produttori-del-barberesco-langhe-nebbiolo/ http://vinicultured.com/2012/07/19/learning-to-get-past-my-fear-of-italian-wine-or-the-2010-produttori-del-barberesco-langhe-nebbiolo/#comments Thu, 19 Jul 2012 05:24:54 +0000 vinicultured http://vinicultured.com/?p=907 ]]> Italian wine scares me.

I should qualify that statement.  I love Italian wine, and I believe Italian wine is exciting, versatile, and absolutely divine, but I know very little about Italian wine in general.  There’s the Piedmont with its Nebbiolo-based wines, then Tuscany with its Sangiovese-based wines, but come on!  Aren’t clones for sci-fi movies or Star Wars?  And can’t Italy just have a reasonable number of varietal–say, one hundred–instead of like… thirteen hundred (or up to 3,500)?  It also doesn’t help that many of Italy’s greatest wines–Barolo, Barbaresco, Brunello di Montalcino, for instance–are expensive and, in the case of Nebbiolo-based wines, tannic monsters when young.

It is for all these reasons that, when it comes to that game of blind tasting, I am absolutely useless when I try to identify Italian wines.  I can get Sangiovese, with its cherry and dried oregano notes, but I am just not as familiar with Italian wines as I am with French or Californian wines… not that I’m all that familiar with those, either!

In order to turn my weakness into a strength, I have resolved to buy and try more Italian wines.  So far, I’ve had a few bottles.  Of those, I am very happy to report that the 2010 Produttori del Barberesco Langhe Nebbiolo ($22.00 at Big Tree Bottles) was affordable and delicious!

“Produttori del Barbaresco” refers to the fact that this wine is a product of the Cantina Sociale dei Produttori del Barbaresco, which is a growers’ collective located in Barbaresco.  Langhe is actually a larger area which encompasses both Barbaresco and Barolo.  A useful analogy is found in Burgundy: just as appellation-level Bourgogne is made of Pinot Noir that comes outside of specifically-demarcated appellations and vineyards (such as the “Les Charmes” vineyard in the appellation of Meursault), Langhe wine is made with the same grape as Barbaresco and Barolo but from a broader region.  The practical consequence is that one may purchase a more easy-to-drink, approachable wine at a much lower cost than those from the more prestigious appellations.

Nebbiolo, which some surmise was named after the heavy fogs (nebbia) that cover the Langhe during some of the harvest period, is a grape whose thick skins contain loads of tannin.  The traditional method for making Barolo and Barbaresco leaves the skins in contact with the grape juice for extended periods of time, thus resulting in wines that require years of aging.  Langhe-level Nebbiolo such as the one I drank for this post, on the other hand, does not undergo the same extended contact period nor the same long aging in barrel and is, therefore, meant for earlier consumption.

The Produttori del Barbaresco Nebbiolo was a light ruby color, almost translucent.  It was lighter even than some Beaujolais I’ve had.  On the nose I detected sour cherry, cranberry, strawberry jam, and fresh red plum, notes which were confirmed by taste.  This wine had moderate tannins which were held in check by a higher level of bright acidity.  This was a beautiful, young, fresh wine with enough going on to keep me interested but delicious enough to make me drink quite a lot of it throughout the day.  It went well with the meal of stewed pork ribs with rice and beans that I purchased from a local Puerto Rican joint.

After this and some other Italian wines, I can’t say that I am appreciably more comfortable with the genre.  However, if they are all as good as this one, I am eager continue learning.

While the centerpiece of my trip to Boston was taking the Court of Master Sommeliers’ introductory course, I did also have a little bit of time to explore the neighborhood in which I was staying.  South End is a very nice, very settled area with stately townhouses, ample greenery, and hip little cafes and restaurants.  I really enjoyed Render Coffee’s dyslexic but delicious BTL and cold-brewed coffee, and had way too much grease from Laz Cafe, and sipped some delightful fino and amontillado Sherry at Toro.  I also had some good kidneys and a pint of dark wheat Pretty Things Brewery beer at the South End location of Le Petit Robert, a local Boston chain of French bistros.

 No trip to any city would be complete without a tour of the local wine store scene, so upon the recommendations of my kind hosts I checked out the Wine Emporium on Columbus Street.  It had good selection and a large liquor/whiskey selection; the bottles skewed toward the less expensive, with the result that many of the usual “big names” or cult wines were lacking on the shelves.  No matter, because there were plenty of wines to occupy my time.  I picked up a premier cru Burgundy (a Mercurey, forgettable and forgotten, I’m afraid) and was browsing through the Germany shelf when I chanced upon this gem, the 2002 St. Urbans-Hof Piesporter Goldtröpfchen Riesling Spätlese:

I tend to go crazy for older wines because, hell, how often does one get to have an older wine?  This 2002 was the last of its kind on the shelves, and at around $28 I couldn’t refuse.

This wine is from the Mosel region of Germany, which is renowned for its Riesling.  I lucked out because it turns out that “Piesporter Goldtröpfchen” is, according to Hugh Johnson and Jancis Robinson, an exceptional vineyard (basically grand cru status).  Goldtröpfchen is the specific vineyard in the Piesport region.  It is an extremely hilly, south-facing vineyard, with 80-year-old vines that produce, at least according to the name, “little golden drops” of wine.

This was a lovely wine.  At ten years of age it was a rich golden color and was beginning to have that old white wine smell of petrol and hazelnut.  Lemon curd, bouquets of white flowers, honey.  Given its Spätlese QbA designation, it had light, honeyed sweetness, and given its Mosel pedigree, it had a fine backbone of slate and high acid to keep the wine in balance.  Though not the most profound or complex Riesling I’ve ever had, it would have been worth twice its retail price.

I had to think of this wine’s journey, from grapes grown on steep slate hillsides in Germany, to a bottle transported to the US, and then half-forgotten on some store’s shelf in Boston until, after a decade, it finally got its moment in the sun.  I’d like to think that there is a fable here somewhere, some way to link this wine to my own journey, but even if not: what a great wine!

I came to Boston to take the Introductory Course offered through the Court of Master Sommeliers.  This course is the first in a series of four “levels”, which increase exponentially in difficulty.  To call oneself a “certified sommelier”, one must pass the the second level, the Certified Sommelier Examination.  One may decide to get additional certifications, but attaining these become absurdly hard.  For instance, the passage rate for the Master Sommelier examination is a bone-dry 5-10%.  By comparison, the July 2011 California Bar Examination’s passage rate was 54.8%.

That being said, my good friend Alex very generously invested in my scheme, which allowed me to enroll in the Introductory Course in mid-June.  I received an e-mail with the course manual in PDF format, and over the next few weeks I looked through the manual and made a few flash cards.  There is a lot of material to cover, including the major wine regions and their appellations, varietals, and classifications (such as AOC/AOP, DOC, and premier cru, grand cru, etc.).  There is also a bit of information on beer, spirits, and sake, as well as on food pairings and service.

The course spanned two days, starting at 8 am and going until around 5:30 pm.  Most of the course is in lecture format.  Three Master Sommeliers ran the show, delivering the lectures and running the blind tastings.  The Hyatt Harborside, our venue, very generously provided coffee, tea, and pastries during the morning and breaks, as well as delicious lunches during the middle of the day.  The Hyatt also provided a very nice outdoor seating area with a very nice view:

Although the lectures and manual were very helpful, they were intended as surveys.  For the course, we did not have to identify key vintages and, with a few exceptions, did not have to know individual vineyards or producers.  (We did have to know a few of the Medoc first and second growths, as well as a random vineyard in the Mosel, but the instructors generally hint at the ones you will need to know.)  On the other hand, I now know much more about Australia and New Zealand than I once knew!

What was more useful was learning the deductive tasting methodology, which was an eye-opener.  This tasting methodology is used for blind tastings but is also useful for thinking about the wines one drinks regularly.  This methodology distinguishes five different stages of the tasting process, starting with sight, nose, taste, initial conclusion, and final conclusion:

• Sight: this focuses on clarity, brightness, color, and intensity of the wine (along with rim variation).  A good rule of thumb is that white wines get darker as they age, while red wines get lighter (and often develop a good amount of rim variation).
• Nose: this focuses on how the wine smells.  What I like about the Court’s methodology is that it imposes a certain structure and discipline to this particular stage.  Whereas previously I would stick my nose in the glass and simply write down whatever scent I detected, the Court insists on going down a list of scents.  First, for all wines I would detect whether the nose is sound/clean or somehow flawed, and then whether the wine appears youthful or aged.  Then, for instance, for white wines one would first try to identify citrus notes, then move on to apple or pear notes, stonefruit notes, melon notes, and tropical fruit notes.  Each of these could also be described in terms of modifiers like fresh, dried, candied, stewed, skin-on or skinned, green or yellow, etc.  Then one would move on to non-fruit elements like flowers, spices, herbs, or other, and then to earth (either organic like dirt or grass, or inorganic like stone, chalk, or slate) and oak.  What I found is that this discipline is incredibly useful for categorizing and identifying wines.
• Taste: this should merely confirm what one has already determined in the previous step.  The Court recommends two tastes, one as sensory confirmation of the nose, and the next to determine structure.  Structure includes things like alcohol content, tannin level, acidity level, complexity, and finish.
• Initial Conclusion: the initial conclusion is where one decides whether the wine is Old World or New World, comes up with possible varietals, possible countries and regions, and vintage ranges.  
• Final Conclusion: the final conclusion is the leap of faith, where one finally decides what the wine is.

A Kermit Lynch selection, I figured that this basic-level Burgundy would make for simple, decent drinking. I was going to drink it with dinner this weekend, but my roommate Amit had just received some great news–his company, Bitponics, had just reached its $20,000 funding goal–and I decided that wine was called for. The first sip confirmed this belief: a bit tight, with sour cherries and a vivacious acidity.  The finish was green stemmy, and I thought that some time in a decanter would improve it.

Amit has one of those fancy Vinturi wine aerators, and he challenged me and my trusty Riedel Syrah decanter to a wine aeration duel.  It wasn’t a very scientific experiment–no double-blind randomized testing here!–but it was a delicious one nonetheless.  True to form, he preferred the wine aerated through the Vinturi, whereas I preferred the wine aerated in my Riedel decanter.

Decanting for about half an hour (or running it through the Vinturi for three seconds) did in fact improve the wine, making it fuller.  Still, the green notes persisted, though those weren’t unpleasant.

Overall: a good impulse buy, though a tad expensive for the quality ($28.50).  Give me a basic René Leclerc any day!