So it’s nice to find a solid restaurant with well-executed food and great service.  Firefly fits the bill perfectly.  In a nutshell, it’s a wonderful place to have happy hour drinks with a few friends or take a date: it’s cozy without seeming small, social without being loud, and as comforting as a warm woolen blanket.  It is a bit more expensive than it looks like it should be, but still worth the price.

Mary Kate and I went to Firefly for dinner this past weekend and it did not disappoint.  We started with a cocktail each: she had the grapefruit spritz and I had the tarragon fizz.  The grapefruit spritz was a glorified greyhound and a bit too sweet for my taste.  However, the tarragon fizz was right up my alley, with tarragon-infused vodka and St. Germaine, fresh lemon, and topped off by sparkling wine.  It was garnished with some sliced tarragon and was pleasantly herbal; it was a nice aperitif.

We then split two appetizers, the deviled eggs and the “2+2.”  The deviled eggs were delicious and were garnished with crispy garlic chips, but the entire order was three egg halves.  This is fine, I guess, but why only three halves?  Where’s the last half?  The 2+2 allows you to select two artisanal cheeses and two charcuterie items from off the menu.  We picked the smokey blue and the red hawk cheeses, and the rabbit pate and chopped organic chicken liver.  It was all served on a plank along with bread, cornichons, marmalade, berry jam, and whole grain mustard.  The appetizers were nearly enough for dinner for two, but we weren’t done eating.

She ordered the excellent mini pot roast and I had the Dungeness crab carbonara.  I love the pot roast: the meat is marinated in red wine for hours and is fork-shreddingly tender.  It comes in a cast-iron serving dish smothered in a rich au jus and perched atop a huge mound of mashed potatoes, accompanied by French carrots and onion.  It is hands-down one of the most delicious dishes I’ve had at any restaurant, period.

The Dungeness crab–perhaps the most noble of all crustaceans–lent its sweet, succulent meat to a carbonara made of squid ink tagliarini, bacon, and mushroom.  There were two types of mushroom in the dish.  There was savory shitake mushroom in the sauce, and there was a huge hedgehog mushroom on top of it all.  The hedgehog mushroom is a dry, leathery variety that tastes of the woods, or like an oolong tea, and is shaped like a lettuce or a bush.  All in all, this was a serious entree that I would recommend for umami lovers.

Throughout the meal we shared a bottle of the 2006 Surh Luchtel Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir.  I had purchased a bottle of this online, through InVino.  It was a nice example of California Pinot, not too concentrated, big, or fruity.  It was still fruitier than I would have liked, but it also had some nice duskiness and maybe a trace of graphite.  It had a short to medium finish and a medium body.  All in all, good but not great.  Nonetheless, it was a good food wine and enjoyable with both our dishes.  The $15 corkage fee wasn’t bad, either.

All in all, a very solid meal and an excellent dining experience.  The server was knowledgeable, friendly, and intuitive.  The front of the house worked well together, and they did not rush us between the appetizers and mains.  Firefly is not an everyday dinner sort of place, but it’s priced for date night.  (And, in case you procrastinate, it’s possible to get reservations the day of.)

Of course, this being a wine blog, the time was also filled with some excellent wine.

I type this from sunny California. It is literally sunny (yesterday was 77 degrees, today is going to be 80), with uncharacteristically perfect blue skies through which you can see the San Gabriel Mountains. I just flew in from DC on Saturday and have already had some great Chinese food–great Mexican food awaits.

Bookending my flight: Life by Keith Richards, which I highly recommend; two finals, courtesy of law school; clinic work, also courtesy of law school; drinking, courtesy of my nascent alcoholism; and a few bottles of wine had on either side of the continent.

The first bottle I want to write about is the young 2008 Roger Belland “La Fussière” Maranges 1er cru (Ansonia Wines, $22).  This is almost criminally young, but despite that (or because of that…?) it is tantalizingly good.  The nose on this is incredible, just exploding from the glass with strawberry and red fruits.  It has pronounced acidity and not too much tannin, and it is very lean and juicy.  It is a pretty expression of Burgundy, fruit, not funk; berries, not earth.  This is reminiscent of good Beaujolais cru.

Contrast that to this bottle right here:

The 2008 Meiomi “Belle Glos” Pinot Noir (Pearson’s Wine and Spirits, $20ish) is a blend of Pinots from California’s Sonoma, Monterey, and Santa Barbara counties.  I had had it before at Mission Wines in South Pasadena, but that was years ago.  All I remembered was that it was a quality wine but one I didn’t necessarily want to purchase again.  I tried it again at Pearson’s with Heather, and again it was not impressive–except that there was something about it, some Mickey Rourke-like spark that kept me from writing it off.  There was some funk hiding beneath the tired waves of old fruit that made me wonder if this had something else to offer.  I told this all to Larry, the pourer, who said that this bottle had been open since the day before and that he would open a fresh bottle (so nice of him, right?  I would HIGHLY RECOMMEND Pearson’s to anyone with access to Glover Park).  The new bottle: wow!  What a difference!  The tired waves of old fruit were rejuvenated and became supple cascades of ripe plum and jujubes, offset by baking spice and underlined by that funkiness I had tasted in the first bottle.  Substantial body and great tannins to balance the acidity.  Very fragrant nose.

Now, I love me some Burgundies, but sometimes you gotta go back to where you come from.  California, constantly lambasted for being Hollywood-like in its oenophilic expressions, for being too big, too bold, too brash–well, California is a big place.  France and Spain and every other winemaking region have their villains as well.

Yet another France-California face-off: any Châteauneuf-du-Pape blanc versus the 2007 Stolpman “L’Avion” ($30s) brought very kindly by Billy to a Mission Wines tasting I went to yesterday.  From the Santa Ynez Valley it is composed of 90% Roussane and 10% Viognier (though the 2008 vintage is 100% Roussane).  This has a very pretty light straw color but clocks in at a hefty 14.8% ABV.  Nutty but mouth-puckering, with a solid base of mineral and clay.  Floral nose–apparently, it smelled like honeysuckle, though I don’t even know what that means.  Great body and finish.  One of my favorite wines of the past year was the 2007 Paul Autard Châteauneuf-du-Pape blanc; if I had to compare them, I would think that the Autard is a bit more refined and with more minerals, whereas the Stolpman is more voluptuous and fruity.  Both are great, and the Stolpman is a significant bit less expensive.

Before I go, a closing note on another Californian wine I tried.  The 2009 Orin Swift “Abstract” (Mission Wines, $23ish) is a blend of predominantly Grenache, with Syrah and Petit Syrah from Sonoma.  Orin Swift is the maker of the ludicrously popular “The Prisoner”, which is good but a bit too much for my taste.  Not so with the Abstract.  Black fruits, licorice, light-to-medium body.  Definitely drinkable alone but probably also enjoyable with lamb or, I’m thinking some sort of meat-based parpadelle dish.

I do enjoy DC and the East Coast; I do also love French wines.  But sometimes, damn it, it’s good to be home.

There is such a stigma attached to drinking alone, for a variety of reasons.  For one, drinking alone implies that you have no one else to drink with, i.e. you are a loser.  Or, drinking alone implies that you have a drinking problem, i.e. you are an alcoholic:

But drinking alone is not in of itself a bad thing.  It is a useful tool, one of the great friends of mankind.  There are times when you need to take the edge off of life, or times when you just want to forget about everything and just get to the next morning as quickly as possible.  Obviously, indulging in individual imbibment on a regular basis may be indicative of deeper problems, but then again, merely drinking with other people doesn’t mean you don’t have a problem, either.

And sometimes drinking alone is the best way to drink, as captured so eloquently by my favorite American author, John Steinbeck.  In a scene from Cannery Row (which has been quoted a number of times here on Vinicultured), he describes Henri the Artist’s post-breakup ritual:

It had become his custom, each time he was deserted, to buy a gallon of wine, to stretch out on the comfortably hard bunk and get drunk.  Sometimes he cried a little all by himself but it was luxurious stuff and he usually had a wonderful feeling of well-being from it.  He would read Rimbaud aloud with a very bad accent, marveling the while at his fluid speech.

Yup.  This sounds about right.

Drinking by yourself is not necessarily borne of sadness, anger, desperation, or disease.  For instance, I drank alone yesterday, but there were extenuating circumstances.  First, my girlfriend is on her way to Alaska (she’s halfway through her three-week relocation drive/bar trip).  Second, I’m in Wilmington, Delaware (no further explanation required).  Finally, I had picked up a bottle of wine from Moore Brothers Wine Company after a wonderful lunch with my vice chancellor, and I couldn’t wait for the weekend to try it out.

This bottle of wine was the 2008 Bourgogne Hautes Côtes de Nuits from Domaine Olivier Rion ($22).  I’m always in the market for nice, basic Burgundies–both red and white–and the associate steered me towards this one.  I’m glad he did.

Hautes Côtes de Nuits, as can be surmised from the name, is from a hilly region just above, or west of, the Côtes de Nuits.  This region has no premier or grand cru vineyards, and the entire region is the same AOC.  It’s not as prestigious an area as much of the rest of the Côtes de Nuits, which means that you can find some terrific bargains.

I opened it up right when I got home.  Light, clear color.  Fresh plum on the nose.  Upon sipping, I was immediately hit by bright, assertive fruit: cranberry and pomegranate.  It had great acidity with a delightful mouth-puckering astringency.  It ended with a vegetal, herbal finish that wasn’t unpleasant. 

This wine went down smooth and was a sheer pleasure to drink.  It’s not dark or brooding, and it’s not a thinking man’s wine.  But at $22 and 12.5% alcohol, it’s a great wine to drink–alone or with friends.

For instance, I spent four and a half years in Berkeley, and it wasn’t until my last year that I truly started to enjoy it.  Suddenly, its wonders started presenting themselves to me like a blossom of gastronomic joy.  Where the hell was Gregoire all my life?  Why didn’t I go to Kermit Lynch before?

I am also a native of the Los Angeles region–Alhambra and South Pasadena, to be exact–but I can’t say I truly loved LA until I left for law school here in DC.  Now I love LA; every moment I spend there on break is a little blessing.

You might have heard me railing on DC.  I’ve always had the feeling that it’s trying to be like many different cities but failing.  I hate the crazy humidity of the summer, and I don’t like the absolute lack of tall buildings.  I hate how the Metro closes early–or at all–and how the bars close early.  I also don’t consider myself a very political person, which considering the town is not such a good thing.

However, DC has begun to grow on me.  There are little pockets of DC, a coffee shop here or a restaurant there, an alleyway here or a circle there, that I love.  Of course, one can choose to explain this cynically by pointing out that every city has its charms.  Still, I think I’ll be missing Amsterdam Falafelshop a lot once I leave DC.

There are other places, too.  Last Saturday Ansonia Wines was having a special open house where they were pouring old favorites and new selections they had picked up on their recent trip to Southern France.

Ansonia Wines is a boutique wine shop that specializes in French wines, putting a particular emphasis on Burgundy though they do have a good Southern Rhone selection, as well as a few offerings from Bordeaux, Alsace, and Italy.  It’s a family-run affair, with the father Mark (a Philadelphia lawyer for over twenty years) having run a successful wine importing business for years and years, providing wines to such high-end DC restaurants as Komi, CityZen, and Citronelle, and the son Tom (recently graduated from college) opening up the retail location just this past December.

They import wines from small but renowned producers like Michel Gros and Roger Belland, who produce red and white Burgundies that will take your breath away.  Two of their wines were recently reviewed quite favorably by The Washington Post, and I personally have had the opportunity to try many of their wines because I am now their manager-on-retainer (this being a one-person retail store, I fill in whenever Tom needs to take time off).  But I was looking forward to the open house because they were pouring some new wines from their buying trip.

My law school friend Giri–a oenophile who besides working as an engineer in Detroit’s automobile industry worked in wine retail for man years–and I met up at Ansonia where, among teeming throngs of people, we were served a new Cremant d’Alsace made from Chardonnay.  Delicious, rich, and full–a Champagne masquerading as a Cremant.  We were then served a number of other wines, such as the excellent 2004 Chateau Destieux, a Grand-Cru Bordeaux that offered seducing notes of plum, cedar, and graphite, a simple but refreshing Chardonnay from Domaine Albert Sounit, and the 2007 Domaine les Goubert Sablet, a pure, mid-bodied red that went down smooth.

However, the big standouts from the open house were two Gigondas from the same domaine.  Honestly, I love Domaine les Goubert–their L’Inedit (the “unedited” or “original”), described by the winemaker as a “man’s wine,” really is, with assertive dark fruits, flannel, strong yet balanced tannins, and warm spreading finish–and its offerings.  Goubert has two different styles of Gigondas, one made traditionally with no oak (no oak!) and the other, its “Cuvee Florence” (named after the winemaker’s daughter), seeing upwards of 24 months in 50% new French oak.

Ansonia offers a number of different vintages in both.  I had picked up the ’89 Gigondas ($42) to try on a special occasion but managed to get a little taste of it.  Intriguing, with a funky umami.  They were also serving the ’94 Cuvee Florence ($69), which had the same qualities but seemed brighter.  By this point Giri and I were joined by my friend Waiching and her friend Mark, not to mention the dozens of people who cycled in and out of the store.

Sufficiently soused up, we purchased quite a few bottles: a 2007 Domaine Annie Claire Forest Pouilly-Fuisse (one of my “Wines of the Week”), two bottles of a new Cotes-du-Rhone Village from Domaine Coulange, two bottles of Cremant, and–gasp!–a bottle of the ’94 Cuvee Florence.

We had already had a big evening, but the evening was about to get better.  The four of us stumbled back to my place, where my roommate Alex was recovering from a half-marathon he had run that morning.  I whipped together a relatively quick meal of mushroom cream chicken, cooked in my new enameled ceramic covered casserole, roasted brussels sprouts, and rice.  During the hour cooking and prep time, as well as during the meal and after, we had wine and more wine.

We downed the Pouilly-Fuisse–pretty as ever.  The Domaine Coulange Cotes-du-Rhone Village (around $15) was juicy, fruity, and gave the impression of sweetness.  Altogether a solid wine, especially for those who don’t like their wines too brooding.  But I was waiting impatiently for the Gigondas.  Both Gigondas.  Hell, if I wasn’t going to drink the ’89 now, I would never drink it.

So that was opened and poured into our glasses.  Swirl, swirl, and sniff.  Dark stewed prune on the nose.  Swirl, swirl, sip.  Prune, umami, baking spices, Japanese red bean jelly.  The color was almost brick-red.  I’ve seen older wines described as faded and brown around the edges, but I had never seen it before.  The ’89 definitely fit this description.  Altogether a pleasant wine but one that should be drunk now–I think it has reached its peak.

The ’94 was awaiting us.  Pour, swirl, swirl, sniff.  More of the same as the ’89.  Swirl, swirl, sip.  It had the same general qualities of the unoaked ’89, but this was simply brighter, juicier, and more vibrant.  There was a strong backbone as well from the oak.  There was a good undercurrent of acidity to it that kept things lively.  Very, very, very good and worth every penny.

I couldn’t tell whether I liked the ’94 better because it was younger, oaked, or just qualitatively different than the ’89.  I would like to try Goubert’s Gigondas from the same vintage to make sure.  However, I will stake a claim at this time and say that I would prefer the Cuvee Florence style versus the more traditional style.  Of course, this might change upon further examination.

The rest of the evening?  More wine, followed by glasses of German brandy and hand-rolled cigarettes on the roof courtesy of Mark.  I might not like DC as much as Berkeley or LA, but after a night like that it’s certainly growing on me.

School was cancelled these past two days, which means I haven’t been in class since Wednesday evening.  I’m hoping that tomorrow will be cancelled as well, which would mean I would be out of class for TWELVE days (I don’t have classes on Thursdays and Fridays, and this Monday is Presidents Day).  This is basically longer than my Spring Break, which is coming up at the end of February.

As my blog has indicated, I’ve been cooking a lot, eating well, and drinking a lot of great wines.  For instance, yesterday morning started with my making a bachelor’s breakfast skillet consisting of a layer of leftover mashed potatoes, two eggs, shredded cheddar cheese, thyme, and a whole lotta Tabasco sauce:

I had purchased two small 5″ Lodge cast-iron skillets for this very purpose but seldom use them.  I should more often.

Although this was a good introduction to the day, I had bigger ambitions for the evening.  See, my roommate Alex was coming home from Europe yesterday, and I figured I should welcome him back to the US of A with a proper meal of lamb shanks and butternut squash.

But how do I cook lamb shanks?

I’ve had them before, most memorably at my old Berkeley Restaurant, Adagia.  Prior dining experience, however, does not cooking expertise make.  Thus, I looked at a few recipes, here, here, and here, blending them all together and hoping for the best.

The technique?  Braising at low temperature for a long, long time.

Part Two: Marinating the Meat and Prepping the Veggies

I had purchased two lamb shanks at Eastern Market a few weeks ago, and though I’m loathe to do so I had to freeze them.  No matter.  After defrosting for two days, the lamb shanks were ready.  I wasn’t sure about how tender they were going to be because of the freezing, so I played it safe by marinating them in olive oil, pepper, thyme, fennel seeds, and curry powder and cardamom.  In retrospect, I think I’d remove the last three ingredients because they imparted a sort of Eastern/North African flavor I didn’t exactly want.  The shanks marinated in this mixture for four hours in the fridge.

I would need veggies for the stock.  I used diced onions, sliced leeks, and whole garlic cloves as the base.

Part Three: Picking the Wine

The braising recipes I came across all required a few cups of red wine.  But which wine?  I usually use cheap wine for cooking (see Charles Shaw Sauvignon Blanc), but I figured that my roommate and I wouldn’t be able to finish off a whole bottle of wine, anyway.

Hmm.  Not a Beaujolais–Beaujolais is too light and delicate and would get lost in the mix of flavors.  What about a Burgundy?  Yeah, that makes sense: some good, earthy-spicy Burgundy always goes well with lamb.  What about a Chianti?  Hmm, that could work as well.

I settled on the Burgundy.  Notwithstanding the curry and cardamom, I was trying to go for something a bit more French in nature.  The Burgundy in question was the 2007 Domaine Bruno Clavelier Bourgogne, a basic bottling I picked up at MacArthur Beverages for $25.00:

I had liked the basic Bourgogne (the 2005 Domaine René Leclerc Bourgogne) Phil had recommended to me last time, but as they were out of that particular wine he recommended instead the Clavelier.  This one had by far the lightest color I’ve ever seen in a Burgundy–almost a rosé, it was so pale.  The nose was typical Burgundy, but the taste was something else.  I got huge notes of cranberry, both in taste and acidity, whereas Alex got green apple.  Very light bodied, but with good acidity and good tannins.  A bit of spice, though not much.  Not much funkiness or earthiness, either.

This is a pretty good wine–it’s not substantial and not terribly complex, but it’s pleasant and would definitely be a great thirst-quencher come the summertime.

Part Four: Browning the Meat / Making the Braising Fluid / Putting It All in the Oven

I browned the lamb shanks on my large cast-iron skillet for a few minutes on each side (this step is necessary, apparently, if you want the lamb to retain its shape).  Note how the meat is attached continuously to the entire bone; as the shanks cook the meat retracts and gives the shanks the characteristic “dinosaur bone” shape:

Afterwards, I took out the shanks and added the chopped veggies to the pan, browning them in the combination of lamb juices and olive oil.  Then, I added a half-can of tomato paste and cooked the mixture for a while.  Next, I added some vegetable and chicken stock, sliced sweet peppers, and three cups of the Burgundy.  I reduced this before adding the lamb shanks, simmering, then covering the skillet with a lid before putting it into an oven which I had preheated to 350 degrees.

Now, the waiting.

Part Five: The Test

I cooked the lamb for two-and-a-half hours.  During this time I turned the shanks every now and then to ensure they cooked evenly, and they looked pretty damn good.  After the two-and-a-half hours I cut a little chunk from a shank, and it came right off.  Perfect!  Removing the shanks, I first took the vegetable sauce and blended it in a blender.  I poured the resulting puree through a coarse sieve, leaving only a very nice, smooth sauce  behind.  Pouring this back into the skillet, I then added two cans of cannellini beans and simmered that some more.

Here’s the final product:

But here was the rub.  This was 10:30 pm, and Alex was basically asleep.  Further, he told me a few hours into this process that–gasp!  He didn’t quite like lamb!  (Forgive him: he’s a recovering life-long vegetarian.)

So I invited my friend Amy, who lives in the apartment building, to come up and have Alex’s portion and have some Burgundy.  I put it all on a plate, grated some lemon zest on top, and served it.

How was it?  Well, only the bone remained.  It was a success, and one I seek to repeat sometime in the near future.

Come on, you wouldn’t put regular unleaded in a sports car, right?  Yes, yes, I know that that analogy is flawed, but you get the idea.

Such was the question that plagued me when I was bringing over a bottle of the 2007 St. Innocent “Shea Vineyard” Pinot Noir (from the Willamette Valley, Oregon) ($49.00 at Bell Liquor & Wine Shoppe) for a movie night with a friend.  I asked my roommate whether bringing the decanter and some Burgundy glasses would be too much.

“Um… yeah,” he replied, looking at me like I was crazy.  (Then again, this is the guy who recently ran a 50-mile marathon.)  So I decided not to bring the decanter and the wine glasses, even though the Pinot was almost criminally young.  It was with some trepidation, therefore, that I opened the bottle and poured some into wine glasses the hostess provided.

Some wines are good on their own; others are better with food.  With that being said, I can think of no other wine that would be as good with as many different foods as the Shea Vineyard.

The nose itself was decent–nothing too aromatic about it.  Standard Pinot nose, I suppose, nothing bursting forth from the glass.  Berry and a bit of earth.  The wine seemed somewhat closed the first few sips but over the course of the evening it opened up.  It is a generous wine, very full-flavored and with some terrific acidity.  Pepper and a bit of eucalyptus gave way to berries–strawberry or blackberry or both–mixed with earth and leather, then a very tantalizing funk at the finish, like mushroom.  The mouthfeel was superb, with a touch of astringency reminiscent of eating a tangy goat cheese.

With the mushroom funkiness and the tangy/astringent goat cheese mouthfeel this wine would pair extremely well with any number of French breakfast or brunch options.  In fact, aside from certain Cabernet Francs this is probably the BEST wine you could drink with a breakfast, if you’re not fundamentally opposed to drinking wine with breakfast.  I could imagine drinking it with a nice mushroom omelet, with a toasted baguette spread with goat cheese, sides of tomatoes prepared Provençal style, with rosemary and thyme and plenty of garlic and olive oil.  You could save some of the bottle for lunch: spicy Merguez sausage with white beans, tuna niçoise, grilled salmon, rabbit, hanger steak.  This wine would be able to take anything you throw at it.

I would like to try this wine again in a few years.  I would imagine the earthy notes would deepen and predominate, with the fruit fading a bit.  It would be glorious to behold.

Is this a great Pinot?  At this point, no.  It’s not transcendent, but again, few things are when so young.  I do certainly like it better than many other Pinots I’ve tried from the US; it’s much more restrained and refined, with a decent 13.5% ABV.  Even though it is an excellent wine, it seems a little bit pricey.  I would recommend the Elizabeth Spencer “Special Cuvee” from the Central Coast of California, which at $32.99 has a high quality to price ratio.  Or, I would recommend spending a little bit more money and getting a great Burgundy.

Now if only I were already a lawyer.

We had a spate of seven wines for the tasting, starting with the decidedly NOT Burgundian Drappier “Carte d’Or” Blanc de Blancs Brut Champagne which I included because, hell, it’s 100% chardonnay, and hell, who doesn’t like Champagne?  We went through three whites–a basic Mâcon-Villages, a Chablis, and a Chassagne-Montrachet–and three reds.

The first red, the 2005 Domaine René Leclerc Bourgogne, was a basic rouge I picked up at MacArthur Beverages for around $25.  However, it was really, really good, with nice acidity, some spice, and a hint of funk.  This is definitely something I’d pick up as a “house Burgundy” if I ever make that much money in the future.

The second was Kate and Rahul’s favorite red, the 2005 Domaine du Clos Salomon Givry Premier Cru (around $30-$35 on sale at MacArthur).  I have to say this was very impressive, just really well integrated with nice body, a bit of berry, a bit of mushroom, and a lot of pepper on the finish.  Though pinot isn’t the first varietal that comes to mind when eating steak, this particular wine would make a good match.  I could imagine lamb as well.  Watercress, escarole, or arugula would make good sides.

MY favorite of the evening, however, was the 2005 Nicolas Rossignol Pommard ($70 at the Wine Specialist).

Pommard was apparently the most popular Burgundian appellation in the US market back in the 60s and 70s.  This popularity may have led to some degree of complacency: as at least one commentator has noted, Pommard now has a reputation for being among the worst values in the Cote d’Or.

Nonetheless, there are always exceptions, and this offering from Rossignol was one of them.  I had tried his 2005 basic Bourgogne rouge a few months ago and was not impressed–it seemed thin and lacked focus–so I didn’t have any expectations for the Pommard.  I popped it open about an hour before the tasting and poured it into a decanter to open up… I took a sniff once it was in the decanter, and man… already it smelled wonderful.

So, the moment of truth.  It was the last wine of the tasting.  I poured a bit in everyone’s glass, we swirled and sniffed.  Gorgeous, gorgeous nose reminiscent of lavender, purple fruits, slight trace of earthiness.  Into the mouth.  OMG.  A stunning, shimmering mouthfeel, like velvet or silk.  Absolutely seamless integration.  Very fruit-forward, a basket of berries picked in the shade of flowering bushes.  Lingering hint of violets on the finish, like the footsteps of some forest-fairy.  Magical–one of those precious few wines that elicit a slow spreading smile upon tasting.

I would highly recommend the Rossignol Pommard to any Burgundy lover.  It would be a great wine with which to impress anyone.  I wouldn’t pair this one with food because it is so delicate, so utterly perfumed and graceful that drinking it with food would coarsen the experience.  If I HAD to pair it, however, I would do so with mousse pâtés, duck stewed with cherries, or with fruit/dark chocolate-based desserts.

Clark Z. Terry of KLWM wrote in the aforementioned post: “Burgundy fanatics often talk about their ‘Burgundy moment’: The bottle that flipped a switch in their brain and set them on a destructive path to buy all the Burgundy they can in search of more wine that will replicate that vinous epiphany.”  This wine is fully capable of inspiring any number of Burgundy moments.

Thus, I’ve been able to go to Mission Wines, my favorite local wine spot here in little South Pasadena. I rounded up a crew of the usuals–William, his friend Sam, Chris M. and his gf, Sasha and his gf, and Jack M. from days yore–and we hit up the wine tasting this past Saturday. Manning the bar were the always dependable Dave and Matthew; Kirk from the Rose Bowl committee was there along with a spate of regulars.

The tasting started off with a 2008 Pierre-Marie Chermette “Les Griottes” Beaujolais rosé, made from gamay.  A Beaujolais rosé?  I mean, much Beaujolais is darn close to rosé, anyway.  Nonetheless, this was a nice wine with a vibrant pink color and an austere, slightly coppery taste.  It wasn’t sweet and not overtly fruity.  It was my first Beaujolais rosé, so I was delighted to have it be a positive experience.  

We moved on to a real winner–the 2008 Jorge Ordonez Botani moscatel seco.  Botani is owned and operated by that magnate of Spanish wine, Jorge Ordonez, who also imports the excellent Vinicola Onix blend from Priorat and the intense, brooding Juan Gil.  Although the Botani vineyard usually produces sweet white wines made from the moscatel grape, the wine I tried on Saturday was off-dry, surprisingly viscous with a huge nose of very ripe muscat grapes.  (Have you ever had the Korean drink Sac Sac?  It’s grape juice in a can with whole peeled muscat grapes.  The Botani reminded me of that.)

The next was the Tantara T. Solomon Wellborn pinot noir from Santa Barbara, a multi-vintage pinot that I honestly found uninspiring and a little too… unfocused?  I was glad to move onto the 2007 Bistro Grenache from Epicurean, that Washington-based importer of fine Australian wines.  Apparently they have started to dabble in producing their own wines–so far, so good.  Sourced from vineyards in the McLaren Vale, this is a straightforward wine: dusky color, dusty plum full of umami, overlaid by a cloying sweetness.  I sensed some clove and, I don’t know why or how, some red lipstick–perhaps from the one or two women I’ve kissed in my day?  ;)  Pretty good, with a cool hip label:

We strayed off the tasting menu for a pour of a 2006 Essenza di Negroamaro from Italy.  This was a bit closed at first but opened up gradually in the glass–well-balanced tannins and a cedar box nose.  It sort of reminded me of a fruit rollup, but not in a bad way.

Ah–here was a great one–a truly unique wine.  After having tried it at Lou on Vine, I had been looking everywhere for a bottle of a Lacrima di Morro.  I wrote about it before, so I’ll just quote from my previous post:

Tears of Morro (Morro being the commune of Morro d’Alba in the Italian province of Ancona, which is on the Adriatic coast).

Lacrima di Morro is a wine whose grape (Lacrima di Morro d’Alba) is of an ancient and confusing origin–so ancient and so confusing, in fact, that its precise genealogy may never be determined.

This wine blew me away because it was like no other wine I’ve ever tasted. Sure, there are other wines whose nose may approximate flowers, but the Lacrima di Morro actually SMELLS like violets. It’s unmistakable. It’s incredible. And when you take a sip, those violets morph on your tongue into petals of rose. The aftertaste is evocative of rosewater–Turkish Delights, anyone? Light body, low-to-medium tannins, and medium acidity make for a playful, idiosyncratic wine.

I don’t remember the producer of that previous version, but this one was the 2007 Lacrima di Morro from Quercia Antica Velenosi.  The one I tried last week had the unmistakable violets on the nose, yes, but the first sniff actually reminded me more of fresh blueberry pie than violets.  Oh well, a wonderful wine–though not everyone’s favorite, just to be fair.

I scored a pour of the 2007 Domaine Alary “La Brunote” from Cairanne, France: primarily grenache, this was round with just enough tannins to keep things interesting.  I found it better than the Bistro Grenache from Australia, but at around $24 or so it was also about $10 more expensive.

We finished off with the 2007 Domaine les Grands Bois “Cuvee Gabrielle” Cotes-du-Rhone Villages, the last pour of the official tasting.  This one had pepper and herbs on the nose, a big entry rounding out to a smooth mouthfeel, raisins and the hint of spice.  Very good.

My favorite of the day?  I had a few actually, for different occasions.  The Botani would be a great summer white and probably popular with the ladies.  The Domaine Alary would be a great bottle for a cooler day–maybe in the autumn.  The Lacrima di Morro would edge out both, however, just for sheer idiosyncrasy.  It was extremely satisfying to finally find it; I bought a bottle for my friends to try and bought the last bottle at the store to bring home (my mom and sister loved it, by the way).  

Along with the Lacrima di Morro, I bought a bottle of the 2008 Le Bastide Blanche Bandol rosé and, to celebrate my new Riedel Burgundy glasses, I purchased a bottle of the 2007 Cristom “Mt. Jefferson Cuvee” pinot noir from the Willamette Valley of Oregon.  The Bandol was very VERY austere–dry and permeated with minerals–a pale rust color, and better the second day than the first (especially with some Moroccan-style quail and cous cous!).  The pinot was billed as more in the Burgundy style–it was more like a Burgundy than the pinots that so many Californians love, but still more on the opulent than restrained side.  It was good, but I’d still take the Kermit Lynch selection from Domaine A. Et. P. De Villaine any day.  And, in somewhat of an irony, the Burgundy is cheaper than the Oregon pinot!

Needless to say, I’ve had a lot of great wine lately, and a lot of great people to share it with.

The concrete reason for my trip was to visit two of my former residents (and current friends), Semra and Kana, and their awesome apartment up in the hills on North Side.  There was a sentimental reason, too–namely, that all of my residents and thus the vast majority of the people I knew in Berkeley would be graduating and leaving for the big vast world after college.  

There was a oenological reason, too: I wanted to drink a lot of great wine!

Again, as in my New York post, I’m going to just write down phrases that will hopefully serve to jog my memory when I’m looking back after a few decades.  =)

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Wednesday, May 13
Flight in to Oakland.  BART to Downtown Berkeley and up Euclid, right on Virginia.  Up up up Virginia.  Apartment.  Met up with Kana, went down to get lunch at Poulet. Realized they had only $5.00 corkage. Went to Andronico’s and got two bottles–a bottle of the Domaine E.C. (Emile Cheysson) “Clos les Farges” Chiroubles Beaujolais cru for lunch with our poultry, and a bottle of the 2000 Senorio de P. Pecina Rioja crianza for later.  A huge amount of delicious food at Poulet with a lightly-chilled bottle of the Chirouble (perfect!).  Some of the Rioja later with Kana and Semra at home. Wandering around seeing the sights.  An iced Americano at the Free Speech Movement Cafe. Met up with Stephanie with two of her friends outside the newly-created East Asian American Library on campus.  Fat Slice and La Burrito.  Home, more drinking of the Rioja.

Thursday, May 14
Unsuccessful run at both Gregoire and Vintage Berkeley (they both open at 11 am). Hung out with Aileen. A wonderful subsidized lunch of a pork tenderloin sandwich, fries, glass of Ampelos Rosé of Syrah, and citrus-infused panna cotta at Adagia. An iced Americano at Strada. Shopping with Semra and her awesome roommate Hilary at Andronico’s (for late-night snacks) and Kermit Lynch (for late-night drinking). Some more of the Rioja, which had developed into a very different wine–away from earth but more towards a mushroomy, old-wine sort of taste; not unpleasant but wholly unexpected.

Out to SF. A cappuccino at the SFMOMA cafe. Dinner with Dre at Osha Thai. Back to Berkeley. Back to Andronico’s for more ingredients. Cooked a series of three snacks. First, shrimp ceviche (cooked Bay shrimp with a salsa of tomato, avocado, cilantro, onion, serrano and jalepeno pepper, garlic, salt, and lime juice) and tortilla chips served with the 2008 Denis Jamain Reuilly pinot gris rosé–clean, crisp, and very very light, with just the hint of berries and minerals. Second, garlic shrimp (shrimp cooked in the shell with olive oil, garlic, salt, and crushed red pepper) served with the remainder of the rosé and some of the absolutely gorgeous 2007 Domaine A. Et. P. De Villaine “La Fortune” Cote Chalonnaise Bourgogne. Third, filet mignon rolls (filet mignon sliced thin, half a fingerling potato, a circle of leek, and goat cheese) served with the remainder of the Bourgogne and with some of the brooding, restrained, iron-fist-in-a-silk-glove that is the 2007 Clos la Coutales malbec from Cahors (I had been disappointed with this wine in DC, but I am happy to report that that bottle was a clear aberration). Drunk, drunk, drunk.

Friday, May 15
Hung out for a while at the apartment, then went to Nefeli Caffe for cappuccinos and a pizette with Semra and Hilary. My first time at North Berkeley Wine Imports. Browsing wines to the tune of the great Dark Was The Night album. Picked out some more bottles. Dropped off at Strada. More iced Americano. Dropped off my bags at my new place with Stephanie on Durant. Met with Kana at Strada again for another iced Americano, met a new Phi Delt (my old fraternity) who had been initiated long after I had graduated, found out from him that some Phis were at the Bear’s Lair. Went to Bear’s Lair. Met up with Patrick, Matt, Evan, and some new Phis and Jess B.; ran into my old residents Danny, Alicia, Jessica, and Catherine. Dinner at the I-House with Dana. Wine with Michael, Emma, Jed, Jose (the old Adagia crew) and Atsuko (who was hired long after me). First the 2007 Domaine Diochon Moulin-a-Vent “Vieilles Vignes” cuvee–nice fruit, impressive structure. A unique Ballantine petit verdot that opened up beautifully in the glass courtesy of Jed. Last, the 2005 Bodegas Monte De Reina Tinta de Toro Edicion Limitada from North Berkeley Wine Imports: lush, dark, with full body and nice tannins. Then Brian Martinelli, Teeny, and Chuck showed up; I hitched a ride in Brian’s Le Sabre to the Smokehouse, where I conquered the near-mythical double chili-cheese dog with a side of fries and a Coke (double as in two hot dogs in one bun).

Saturday, May 16
MacArthur BART station to meet up with Ratha. Lake Merritt. A cappuccino and eggs scrambled with lox, cream cheese, and chives at the Lakeshore Cafe. Through the Farmer’s Market. A walk around part of Lake Merritt. Visit to Ratha’s place. BART back to Berkeley. Picked up a whole bunch of books at Pegasus and Pendragon (including first editions of Near the Ocean by Robert Lowell and Praise by Robert Hass). An iced tea (for once) at the Free Speech Movement Cafe with Lauren. Dinner at Angeline’s with Jeff, who is going to the Philippines for his internship. A brief detour on Addison to see Semra one last time at her British friend Ben’s apartment. Some Becks on the roof. No wine all day. Home, and sleep.

Sunday, May 17
Packing for LA. Iced coffee at Peet’s with Stephanie. Brunch at La Note, consisting of a cup of coffee and the omelette de pommes de terre (open-faced potato and caramelized onion omelet) for me and the cote nord (eggs soft-scrambled with goat cheese over French bread) for Steph. Airport. LA.

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This trip was bittersweet, as always, but not for the usual reasons. This trip was bittersweet more for the fact that an era had passed, and that I’d have to stay in SF or Oakland the next time I went up to Berkeley. I certainly had more money during this last trip than I ever had while in college, and I had a great time, but some things can’t be bought and certainly cannot be reproduced: scraping together change for an Americano, grilling cheap frozen hamburger patties on a rickety old deck, holding hands while watching the sun set over the Bay.

I’m keen on trying this last one because it comes recommended from Trey at The Wine Specialist and seems to have received some favorable press online: the Bourgogne-Passeltoutgrain is a small appellation located in the larger Bourgogne (Burgundy) region.  By law the red wines of this region must consist of at least 1/3 pinot noir and no more than 2/3 gamay–thus, it represents a vinous transition from the Beaujolais region and its gamay-based wines and Burgundy and its pinot noir-based wines.

Otherwise, my law school’s newspaper just launched an online version!  I’ve been writing pretty regularly for the paper, which is published biweekly.  Check out my last article here!