I was very excited about this wine, having had it shipped from invino to my home back in California.

We opened it up yesterday for dinner, which was New York strip steaks topped with caramelized onion, creamy mashed potatoes, and a nice green bean, tomato, and feta cheese salad.  True to form, I opened it up about an hour before dinner to drink while cooking.  Very dark, saturated color.  On the nose there was prune and blueberry, and herbs.  When my mom tried it she said it tasted salty–I agree: there was sort of a cured olive aspect to the wine.  I got the prune and berries, along with tar, tobacco, licorice, and stone–nicely integrated, soft tannins.  It had a long finish, resolving to lighter red fruit notes.

Overall, very good and an easy-to-drink wine.  It paired well with the dinner, too.  However, I’m not sure if I’d pay $70 for the wine; I got it from invino for about $40.  If I can find this wine for $40 I would probably buy it again.  I enjoyed it more than the 2005 Clos du Val “Stags Leap District” Cabernet Sauvignon (85% Cabernet Sauvignon, 10% Cabernet Franc, 3% Merlot and 2% Petit Verdot) I had purchased from invino a while back.

While similar in style (Bordeaux, not Blockbuster) to the Cinq Cepages, the Clos du Val was simply not well integrated.  There were good things–terrific fruit, for instance–but the elements were distinct and not part of a unified whole.  That being said, I would definitely try it again in a few years just to make sure.  The critics love it and there are good things going on in the glass.

I am a lucky man.  Not only do I have a home to go to for Christmas, but I get to try some terrific wines.  Not least of all, however, I have a very cute dog to keep my spirits bright!

Happy holidays, everyone!

It’s been a while, I know.  I just finished a 12-page memo for my legal writing class; I have a very small window of freedom before the wheels of finals start turning.

Just because I haven’t written for over a month doesn’t mean I’ve stopped drinking.  Well–I’ve cut down my alcohol consumption generally, which is a good thing.  (For instance, I can actually remember what I’m doing while I’m doing what I’m doing!)  Nonetheless, I have had many, many bottles of wine.

My original intent for this wine blog was to keep track of the wines I consumed.  I’ve let dozens slip through the cracks, unfortunately.  My solution for this is to post shorter comments more frequently.  Occasionally–when I have time–I will post longer musings on wine and its connection to life, etc.

Photo Credit: Elise @ Simply Recipes

Autumn in DC has been pretty cool–literally.  Currently, it’s about 55 degrees outside.  There were days of high 30s – low 40s.  I’m used to short bursts of cold weather in California (especially up north), but sustained cold is something new to me.  I like it, however.  I don’t get all sweaty walking around; I can layer; my roommate Alex can make thick, hearty stews; and I feel more alert.  Oh yeah, and there are no more darn mosquitoes to eat me alive.

Concomitantly, I’ve turned away from white wines and have started to look more to reds to sustain my alcoholic tendencies.  Côtes du Rhône come to mind, as do malbec from Cahors and tannat-based wines from Irouleguy.

I will be making rabbit stew for dinner tomorrow (you can buy rabbit at Eastern Market for like… $3.99 a pound!) and am thinking of serving it with a Clos La Coutale from the Cahors region of France.  This wine–70% malbec, 15% merlot, and 15% tannat–was one of my favorites from Kermit Lynch in Berkeley, and I was so excited to see one lone bottle at the Wine Specialist the other day… for $13.99 it was a bit more expensive than in California, but then again, we ARE on the opposite side of the US from Berkeley.  I will be sure to post my thoughts on that meal afterwards–if I have the time!

And settle in I have!  DC is a great place thus far–definitely more humid than I’m used to, and subject to strange liquor laws that prohibit my buying beer, wine, or liquor in markets or drug stores (what gives, DC?).  However, DC is home to a great deal of wine stores, bars, pubs, and restaurants with wonderful, wonderful happy hour bargains.  And I have met some good people here, both my future classmates and friends of my roommate, Alex, who works at a local think tank.

I’ve already been to a wine tasting and taken an unofficial tour of some of the wine shops in the area.  And I HAVE had a bit of wine, notably a 2006 Morgon beaujolais from Jean Descombes (Georges Duboeuf) that was tremendously thirst-quenching after a hot summer afternoon.  I also have a Julienas beaujolais–also from Duboeuf)–that arrived as a housewarming gift waiting in the fridge and a Rosso di Montepulciano from Avignonesi that I will be drinking tonight at a spaghetti dinner in Crystal City.

I wanted to talk about my last night in LA, however: maybe it’s the passage of years, but I am actually more homesick than I thought I would be.  I also miss my parents and family much more now as a 25-year-old than I did as a young naive 18-year-old shipping off to Berkeley.  It might be because I have a greater sense of mortality now given certain events in my life; it might be because my dad’s 65 and not getting any younger.  I find myself drawn back to California because that is where my family–and therefore my heart–is.

This last night we decided to open a bottle of Bordeaux my brother’s girlfriend had bought him when she visited the US.  It was a 2003 Chateau Talbot (from Saint-Julien), a fourth growth which consists chiefly of cabernet sauvignon and merlot, with smaller amounts of petit verdot and cabernet franc.

The issue with this wine was that, since it was relatively (much) more expensive than any of the wines I’ve bought for home, we couldn’t find any suitable occasion to drink it.  And we had it for over a year.  I figured that since we weren’t really capable of storing it properly for much longer we would just have to drink it.  Soon.

I wanted to take it to a restaurant, maybe have the staff decant it to beat up the youngish tannins, and have it with a nice, thick steak.  But alas, I was never in the mood to go out for a fancy meal for my last closing days, so we decided to open it up and drink it solo.

Man.  What a gorgeous wine.  Full and round, like a voluptuous, raven-haired woman.  Cherry and plum in the nose.  Subtle spice and tobacco were what I tasted.  But this wine wasn’t as much about the taste or aroma as it was about texture–just so smooth and yielding, so wonderfully structured.  It went down like a potion made of velvet, and once it got to the stomach it felt warm and soothing like a nice port.

And the finish?  Long, stretching out all the way from that moment, that evening, to the pages of memory.

These past two or three quiet weeks have been filled with drinking. I can’t say I’ve had anything too spectacular to drink: however, I’ve had some solid, easygoing, and inexpensive bottles. Even better–I was joined by my family, who have slowly started to look at wine not as a drug, per se, but as something that can have health benefits in moderation.

I lied about not having spectacular wine. Around the time of my last post I had a bottle of the Sean H. Thackrey “Pleiades XVI”, a wonderful, remarkable, idiosyncratic wine. At the Mission Wines tasting I loved the small taste I received, and I was especially pleased that it tasted even better at home. The menthol/eucalyptus was still there; at times, it bordered on tasting like Crest or Colgate toothpaste, and yet, even teetering precariously over the edge, the Pleaides soared like some sort of mythical bird into the upper palate and into the outer reaches of oenophilic ecstasy. My mom loved it, my notoriously hard-to-please brother liked it, and even my sister enjoyed it. This bottle lasted less than 24 hours–no mean feat in the Song household!

Even beyond the Pleaides, I had bottles such as the Chateau Ste. Michelle merlot (at $10.99, a delicious, easy-drinking, affordable wine); the Onix Priorat 2005, a blend of garnacha and carineña from the Priorat region of Spain–dark, dusky, generally enjoyable though I have found in the past and even with the latest bottle that there’s a certain element keeping me from enjoying this wine completely; and the Louis Martini Sonoma County cabernet sauvignon, which was passable.

What I’ve found is that there are so many decent wines out there–it’s rare that I’m 100% disappointed. Even the Louis Martini, which was my least favorite of the trio of reds I bought recently, was something I could have with a good Italian meal or over a nice novel. And the best thing is just having an open bottle at home, waiting for me along with hot food and smiling family.

For next time (and just in time for spring!): I will review the François Chidaine Touraine sauvignon blanc and a nice rosé I bought the other day from Farmer’s Market!

Joining me in the 25-and-under group were some fellow “Zoomers”: Jonathan (not Jonathan Lewis from entries past), a film major from USC; Will, the Guatemalan martial artist who can squat-press over 1,000 pounds; Erica, of Coloradan extraction; and her boyfriend, Jack, the New Yorker accountant.

We were in for a treat: a wine broker was present for the tasting showcasing wines from his portfolio. This portends well because importers, winemakers, and brokers are pretty keen to put forth their best; Saturday was no exception. The five wines on the “official” tasting list were:

1 | 2006 Lioco Chardonnay | Sonoma, California | $19.99
I hate to admit it, but my palate’s not very refined. I sipped this chardonnay and thought I detected vanilla and oak. Hell, I was dead certain I detected vanilla and oak. The broker came over and told us some more about the wine, including the little fact that this chard had not been aged in oak. At all. It had not even touched neutral oak. All stainless steel. I did taste a lot of fruit–very tropical–and some nice acid. A bit of butter–not a big butterball like many other California chardonnays I’ve had. Overall, one of the better chardonnays I’ve had, though I would have to say that I still have never encountered a chardonnay I wanted to take home with me.

2 | 2005 Miura Pinot Noir Silacci Vineyard | Monterey, California | approx. $60.00
Leave it to a woman to say it: Erica, upon tasting this pinot, declared, “Ooh, it tastes expensive”, by which she meant this was a very good pinot noir. Black cherry. Smooth, velvety. Like sleeping on satin sheets, except instead of sleeping you are drinking and instead of satin the sheets are waves of intense fruit flavor. Pretty darn good, though it still has not usurped in my mind the supremacy of the Sea Smoke Southing.

3 | Barrel 27 Grenache | Paso Robles, California | $22.50
Grenache is a grape I feel I should like, for some reason. It originated in Spain, where it is called garnacha. It is generally spicy and berry-flavored. It is light–it is low-tannin, somewhat low in acid, and of a thin color. You can probably find a lot of wines made from grenache in the supermarket aisles, either alone or blended. Some of my favorite wines–including the Charles Cimicky Trumps–include grenache. Grenache is also the dominant part of wines from the Southern Rhone in France, including Chateauneuf-du-Pape.

And yet, I had not up to this point really encountered a good, solid wine made solely of grenache. I’ve had Little James’ Basket from Chateau de Saint Cosme, which is a blend of fruit from both new and old vines, but I wasn’t enthralled: I think the lack of heft was a bit off-putting for me. The Barrel 27, however, was substantial, with cherry or cranberry, spice. It started smooth but ended with a mouth-puckering note of tannin. This may be because 2006 marks the first vintage of this wine from Barrel 27. Nonetheless, pretty solid wine and one I would definitely purchase again.

4 | 2004 Tejada Tempranillo / Grenache | Lake County, California | approx. $40.00
I didn’t really like this one, unfortunately. I found it extremely tannic–even more so than the Barrel 27. According to the broker, the vineyard from which the grapes of the wine were picked is relatively young, leading to the high levels of tannin.

5 | 2004 Worthy “Sophia’s Cuvee” | Napa Valley, California | $29.99
The real winner of the “regular” tasting. Smooth, lush, sweet (maybe from oak?), the scent of roses and fruit wafting from the glass. I especially enjoyed the moderate level of tannin in this wine after the last two tastings.

This cuvee is a blend of cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, petit verdot, and merlot. This was probably the regulation consensus favorite among the tasters. A very powerful, yet feminine wine. Memorable. I would probably take this wine to any important romantic dinner.

Now, for the first round of overtime.

6 | 2004 Egelhoff Cabernet Sauvignon | Napa Valley, California | $75.00 +
Being an older guy at a fraternity had its perks. For instance, I hosted people in my room during any of the many parties and get-togethers thrown by the chapter. Of course, there were meek, excited undergraduates who were fresh from Cow Town or Overprotected Suburb U.S.A. and looking for fast times and free booze. At that period in my life I was a big fan of Early Times whiskey, which came in a plastic bottle, yes, but I thought was delicious and gave Jack Daniels a run for his money. (Hindsight has corrected me of that erroneous line of thought, thankfully!) Before parties I would take the plastic bottle of Early Times and pour it into a fancy glass decanter, then serve the five or six underclassmen who were lucky enough to find themselves in my IKEAd-out room. I still remember the look in their eyes as they accepted this precious liquid from a real glass decanter!

Well, same story for me, now. I’m the naive “freshman” and am thrilled to be served wine from a decanter, especially if the wine being served is the Egelhoff cab. This cabernet was brought by the wine broker and was a special “bonus”–another reason to try to go to tastings at which brokers or importers or winemakers are present.

Man. The bouquet was incredible–flowers and black fruit, a veritable cornucopia of aromas. Big, yet refined. I found that the wine started full but lightened in body once in the mouth. Double cherry, dusty, dusky cherry. Wood and spice. A long, long finish. Smooth and well-balanced tannins. The decanting probably helped a lot in this regard.

This was actually my favorite wine out of the six I had tried thus far–however, “Sophia’s Cuvee” would still probably be my choice as it’s a delicious, accessible, and sexy wine–and heck, it’s less than half the price of the Egelhoff.

I was thoroughly impressed and thankful to have been exposed to some very good wines. But, much to my delight, I wasn’t done. Our party had two more bonus tastings courtesy of Mission Wines, one more bonus from one of the regulars, and two bottles we bought to continue the buzz. We had 11 wines on Saturday, and in the interest of some semblance of brevity I will review the second five at a later time.

Thus, it stands to reason that I must drink a lot of wine to produce the material for the blog. (Ernest Hemingway, John Steinbeck, Jack Kerouac, and every other writer known to man would probably attest to alcohol’s magical creative properties.) I’m not an economist, but I believe this is what’s known as the “trickle-down effect.” Right?

Over the past week I had three reds I’d like to write a bit about:

1 | 2005 Piqueras Monastrell | Almansa, Spain | $9.99
Intense, deep. A bit closed at first, though it opened up tremendously in the glass (the second day was great!). The tannins were very pronounced. Tasted blackberries, spice, leather. The Korean in me tasted jujubes, which are dried red dates: these are sweet and bitter at the same time, and have a distinct mouthfeel I detected in the Piqueras.

Monastrell is also known as mourvèdre in France and is often used in Rhone-style blends. It is often blended with grenache, which gives the mourvèdre a softer edge.

I had the Piqueras a few weeks ago at a Mission Wines tasting with Erica and her bf Jack, Kat, and Jack’s friend, Liz, from New York. We liked it so much then that Liz bought three bottles. I went back three days ago and bought a bottle for myself. A great buy: affordable, with a helluva lotta personality.

2 | 2005 Chateau Festiano | Minervois, France | $8.99
The new Whole Foods on Arroyo sells a good deal of wine and beer. I spied this bottle in the “French” section and was instantly intrigued. It reminded me a bit of l’Esprit du Silene because it’s also from the Languedoc region of France–the Esprit is from the Coteaux du Languedoc appellation, whereas the Festiano is from Minervois. The Esprit is made from syrah, grenache, and cinsault, whereas the Festiano is 40% syrah, 40% grenache, and 20% mourvèdre.

I was expecting a lot. The Languedoc is one of France’s most exciting winemaking areas–long written off but now coming into its own as a source of wonderful, quirky, and affordable wines. A notable characteristic of many of the red wines of this area is “garrigue”, which is technically a type of scrubland common around the Mediterranean. According to the infallible Wikipedia, “The term has also found its way into haute cuisine, suggestive of the resinous flavours of a garrigue shrubland.”

The Esprit was wholly evocative of the garrigue. The Chateau Festiano, unfortunately, was not. In all fairness, I may have to try another bottle as I’m afraid that the particular bottle I picked up was baked. =/

3 | 2005 Chateau Coucy | Montagne St. Émilion, France | $10.99
Trader Joe’s tonight. Was looking for a new bottle to try and settled on this one when I saw “St. Émilion.” I should have looked harder at the word preceding those two: “Montagne.” Whatever. Montagne St. Émilion is considered a satellite of the better-known St. Émilion region of Bordeaux, and its wines may sometimes even be considered the same or better quality than that of St. Émilion.

I love wine from St. Émilion. Bistro de la Gare in South Pasadena has a few by the glass, and they’re great accompaniments to the steak frites or coq au vin. I love St. Émilion because its wines are predominantly merlot and thus, soft, luscious, easy to drink, and easy to drink NOW (as opposed to many cabernet-based Bordeaux wines having to be aged for years and years to open up and lose their tannic chastity belts).

The Chateau Coucy… thin, overly acidic. It might be better with food–maybe like a chianti or something–to take off the acidic edge. Not especially tannic per se but the acidity made it taste super-bitter. Definitely not a keeper, despite its apparent quaffability.

My track record for this week: 1 for 3. Pretty terrible, given the string of success I had the past two weeks in picking out good wines.

This is like Chinese food. You go into a restaurant–like Sam Wo‘s in San Francisco–and are confronted by a menu of what seems like hundreds of choices. You pick a “safe” choice like the orange chicken or Mongolian beef or shrimp fried rice. You really can’t go wrong and hey, for the most part those are satisfying. But man, you want to venture out into unknown waters (the water tank filled with fish and lobsters and shellfish on the right, say, instead of the one on the left) and decide to go with XYZ. Sometimes it’s the most delicious thing you’ve ever tasted. Other times it’s like throwing up, except instead of throwing up you’re throwing down, if that makes sense.

This week, I think I’ll take a break from being “adventurous” and sit back with a bottle of the Ampelos Rosé of Syrah or “The Third Bottle” from GustavoThrace. My liver and wallet can’t take disappointment two weeks in a row!

The plot doesn’t drive itself as much as it saunters and moseys easily along.  The basic plot is set in the Cannery Row district of Monterey and revolves around a cast of well-meaning bums trying to throw a party for Doc, who is the central figure of the story.  They throw one party that ends in disaster but, by the end of the book, are able to throw a party that is hugely successful.

(What does this have to do with wine?  Or anything, for that matter?  Patience.  Have another sip of your merlot.  I’m getting to it.)

As a former social chair at a fraternity and a catering assistant for almost three and a half years, I’ve seen my share of parties–both highly organized and wildly spontaneous.  I’ve seen seventy-year-olds get drunk off their minds at bar mitzvahs and what looked like seventeen-year-olds do keg stands in dark basements.  There are events complete with wine charms and little signs for different types of cheese, and others that aren’t planned as much as they arise from some primordial, yearning, post-pubescent muck.

What characterizes a good party?  And how can one ensure that the party one is throwing is a success?

My thesis is that a good party, much like a good wine, is characterized by its finish.

Here’s what Steinbeck has to say about this matter:

No one has studied the psychology of a dying party.  It may be raging, howling, boiling, and then a fever sets in and a little silence and then quickly it is gone, the guests go home or go to sleep or wander away to some other affair and they leave a dead body.

Of course, not everyone is going to have a great time at a party.  It’s impossible.  But we all know that there are parties that are fondly remembered years later by its participants–what makes these stand out?

Drinking a lot helps, I have found, though nothing ruins a party quite as much as someone who is three drinks past drunk, someone who might have passed out in a bathroom stall in his or her own vomit and urine and must be lifted out by three people, hosed off, and accompanied home in a taxi (though in certain circles this MIGHT be considered an AWESOME night).

Close friends are always a crucial element, though not necessarily required.  Having a crush or romantic interest there can go either way.  As in wine, there are so many components that must be considered.

Let me present “tasting notes” of three of the best parties I’ve been to in my life:

Six Months ‘Til St. Patrick’s Day Fraternity Party | Berkeley, CA | 2003
I was wearing an ugly plaid green shirt.  We had dyed the beer green.  Green bulbs in the lights.  Green cups.  Green plastic beads, shamrocks, and plastic leprechaun hats.  Live DJ.  A LOT of people.  It helped that I lived in the house.  A lot of incoming freshmen.  No midterms, no finals to worry about.  No police to worry about.  A cute girl.  Dancing with her.  For forty minutes.  Upstairs.  Newly-renovated room with new bed.  Outside on the fire escape.  Some words about the moon.  She had a tongue piercing.

Friend’s 21st Birthday Party | Berkeley, CA | 2006
I didn’t really know too many people.  Some people were dancing, some people were outside in the patio smoking.  There was PLENTY of alcohol, though, of a large variety.  I took up the reins of de facto bartender and found I had enough to make many kinds of drinks, including the always well-received cosmo.  And, there was a sufficient amount of ice.  People were there and were there to have fun; no “bitches”, if you will.  It also helped that it was before finals.

Wine and Cheese Party | Oakland, CA | 2007
Dressed up in a collared shirt and slacks.  Others there were similarly attired.  I brought a bottle of shiraz from Shotfire Ridge and a bar of Scharffen Berger dark chocolate.  The guests came with their offerings.  A good number of people.  Everyone knew at least one or two others.  The majority of the party knew the hostesses and were on at least casual acquaintance terms with most of the guests.  Wine, cheese, food.  Quite possibly every contemporary Christmas song ever written.  Wine charms.  White elephant gift exchange.  Cigarettes outside.  Exchange students from France.  Newly-graduated college kids acting like adults.  A LOT of wine.

Maybe it’s true that parties just have a life–a mind–of their own.  That fits in with Steinbeck’s metaphor of the “psychology” of a party.  If people are there to have fun, if people are there and just want to talk and socialize and have a good time, then the party will be off to a positive start.  And if the party is sustained by more people (who bring more to drink, optimally) throughout the night then even better.

What do you guys think?  What makes for a good party? and how can we ensure as much as possible a long, warm, and delicious finish?

It’s sort of an immigrant grape. One of the up to six grapes used in Bordeaux wines, it rarely took center stage except in other more “rustic” regions like Cahors. (One example is the really excellent Clos La Coutale from Cahors, which is a bit southeast of Bordeaux. The Clos La Coutale is 70% malbec, 15% merlot, and 15% tannat. This Kermit Lynch selection has the finesse and grace of a fine merlot but the suppleness of a Argentine malbec.) It took the importation of this grape to the New World in the mid-1800s to give malbec the home it deserved.

The growing conditions in South America–especially Argentina–were ideal for malbec, which requires more sun and heat than cabernet and merlot (its more famous compatriots). This allows for New World wines that are 100% malbec.

My favorite malbec is from Maipe, which is an intense, staining shade of deep purple. It almost pulses with an animal, sensual energy. There are dusty fruit aromas that, upon drinking, fill your mouth with an utterly satisfying, powerful explosion of plum, chocolate, earth. It’s a bronze fist covered with a silk glove. It is delicious by itself, with chocolate, with anything you can throw at it–I wouldn’t, however, pair it with fish or anything too delicate. The Maipe would destroy any gentle partner.

I wrote about the malbec from Bodega Norton in a previous post: it was disappointing. It had a limpid body, it seemed more like a pinot noir than what I had come to expect from a malbec. It was weak, uninspired and uninspiring, especially when compared to the Maipe.

Another disappointing malbec is from Budini: weak, but unlike the Norton not even quaffable. It’s rare for me not to finish a bottle once it’s opened. I threw the Budini away.

I’m drinking a malbec from Altocedro as I type this post: the 2006 Año Cero.

This one has a bit more “heat” than the Maipe, combined with less body. It’s jammy. It’s better in my book than the Norton and the Budini, but nowhere close to the Maipe. This is a shame because I couldn’t find a bottle of Maipe for the past two months! Chris, the proprietor of Mission Wines, informed me that the distributor was all out of the Maipe and that he was waiting for the new vintage to come out. (I’ll be sure to post about that wonderful day when it arrives!)

JOON’S SCALE OF MALBEC DELICIOUSNESS

1) 2006 Maipe Malbec | Mendoza, Argentina | $9.99

2) 2006 Altocedro “Año Cero” Malbec | Mendoza, Argentina | $11.99

3) Bodega Norton Malbec | Mendoza, Argentina | $7.99

4) 2006 Budini Malbec | Mendoza, Argentina | $9.99

It’s a bit sobering to chip in five or ten bucks each for a $20 or $30 bottle of wine–nothing to shake a stick at–and watch as silver-haired gentlemen wearing well-worn L.L. Bean vests and Eddie Bauer sweaters carry out cases (CASES!) of $50 wine to their idling sports cars.

That’s why I love going to wine tastings. For $10 I can try five different wines. Nothing’s worse than spending good money on a vaunted bottle of wine and finding that it’s terrible. (I guess the same goes for first dates, eh?)

The five wines at the tasting today were:

• Juve y Camps Brut Rosé | Sparkling Pinot Noir (Sant Sadurini D’Anoia, Spain)
• Breggo Ferrington Vineyard | Sauvignon Blanc (Anderson Valley, California)
• Luzon | Monastrel/Syrah (Jumilla, Spain)
• Chateau Puygueraud Cotes de Francs | Merlot/Cabernet Franc/Malbec (Bordeaux, France)
• Graves | Syrah (Paso Robles, California)

The Juve y Camps cava was wonderful. It had a cherry bouquet and a taste that reminded me of cherry soda–minus the sweetness. There was a lively bit of acidity with a dry fruit finish. I wrote a previous post about rosé sparkling wine in which I talked about the merits of the Korbel Brut Rosé–I would far recommend the Juve y Camps version.

The sauvignon blanc was good. I’ve stated often that I’m not the biggest fan of white wines but I’ve lately been exposed to some very decent ones. This sauvignon blanc, according to the pourers, was more like a sancerre (think austere, smooth) than a California wine (think big, oaky, sometimes a bit rough). The Breggo was very smooth, had a light body, and good minerality. The only fruit I could detect was a hint of melon. There was only a little bit of oak, suggesting aging in neutral oak barrels. Unfortunately, its relative merits would not warrant my shelling out $24.99 for it.

The Luzon was a strange wine. My three companions agreed. Strange nose whose components I couldn’t really make out. My first sip elicited an “ugh” from me–the wine hit my mouth awkwardly. It was like a Stravinsky composition or something. As for the taste–I could only make out prune. Not such a good wine… maybe the monastrell (mourvedre in French) was too young… young monastrell tends to be gamey.

The Chateau Puygueraud was decent (especially after the Luzon!), very well-balanced, a well-crafted wine.  The best thing about this one was that it had a very, very long finish–one or two minutes.

The Graves syrah was the crowd favorite in the red category.  Lighter body than most of the other syrahs I’ve had, though full of the characteristic chocolate and plum.  This wine was utterly smooth and easy to drink.  Pretty good wine, though at $36.99 a bottle I think I’ll stick with the Cimicky Trumps or the Shotfire Ridge shiraz.

We ended up splitting a bottle of the Juve y Camps after the tasting, then getting a taco each at La Fiesta Grande across the street.  Eddie, Jonathan, and I then went to Fair Oaks Cigars and watched part of the Patriots – Giants game while puffing away on stogies.

Hedonistic fools as we are, Jonathan and I then went to Lucky Boy and split a coke and a large order of chili cheese fries.  Good end to a good night.