I work on the sales team for the business department; there are other departments with their own sales teams. The estate planning sales team recently moved into the ground floor suite with my team. To “facilitate” this move, the LegalZoom administration funded a wine and cheese mixer in one of our conference rooms for Wednesday.

Needless to say, I was very keen on who, exactly, would be choosing the wine. I was delighted to hear that Heather from HR was the one assigned to purchase the food and wine. Heather knows her wine: in the days leading up to the event I e-mailed her repeatedly about her wine preferences and what she thought she would purchase. Tempranillo? Some sort of Rhone-style blend? As for whites, she settled on an unoaked or at least neutral-oak chardonnay.

Fast forward to Wednesday. I was in a foul mood from work and ready to just pack my bags and go home. And yet, deep down inside, I felt a pull (probably from my liver) towards the conference room. At 6:20 pm I decided to just get a quick glass (or cup, rather) of wine and get back to sending out a few more e-mails.

As is often the case when alcohol is involved, I never did get back to my work that night.

There was a huge cheese, cracker, and fruit spread and a sliced vegetable spread. Sparkling apple cider (which later was delicious mixed with jug wine, but I’m getting ahead of myself here), water, and wine wine wine! I’m not the biggest fan of chardonnay so I didn’t catch the name of the example on hand, but there were bottles of rosé and red.

I started out with rosé because I love rosé and hell, it’s spring. We had bottles of the Marqués de Cáceres rosé, which is made from 80% tempranillo and 20% garnacha–er, grenache, depending on where you’re coming from.

I’ve seen this wine often at Trader Joe’s and other stores but had stayed away because I wanted to avoid that terrible cheap plastic taste endemic to inexpensive rosés and whites. I should have known better. This rosé was wonderful! Upon the tasting I was hit by its bracing acidity, which was balanced by a relatively full–for a rosé–body and unctuous mouthfeel. (Unctuous is such a nasty-sounding word, isn’t it? But sometimes, you gotta make do with the best word for the job.)

It was clean, fresh, refreshing. Very fruity–berry, as in strawberry, red berries–and dry. I was very happy with this wine and ended up drinking maybe four plastic tumblers of the rosé. At around $7.99 a bottle, this is PERFECT for spring and summer. I’m thinking picnics, with roast chicken and French bread. It was a good match for the mild, soft cheeses on the spread, too.

I transitioned to the red–another denizen of Trader Joe’s–the 2006 Pont du Rhône from the Côtes-du-Rhône appellation of–you guessed it–France. Côtes-du-Rhône is a huge area of land that technically encompasses the entire Rhône valley but usually refers to the Southern Rhône. (I’m going to stop putting the accent or circumflex over the o–it’s taking forever to put that thing into my text!)

According to Mr. Mark Oldman, “Given [the] variation in geography, and the wine’s blend of different grapes, it’s difficult to pin down an exact profile for Côtes-du-Rhône [JOON'S NOTE: gotta be true to the text here despite what I said in the previous paragraph!]. It will often be medium-bodied red with varying degrees of blackberries or raspberries, smoke, pepper, and other spices.”

The Pont du Rhone was a great example, then, of this style. I couldn’t find its exact composition, but it seemed to be primarily grenache, which meant it had berry and pepper and a lighter body. The nose had a bit of herb, a bit of cherry. It was surprisingly smooth, very gentle, and also a great match for the cheeses at the event. I could imagine having this wine with some good steak frites, maybe even with a goat cheese pizza.

The best part of this wine was its price: $4.99! It is a huge steal and a good everyday wine.

My teammates were there, as were others from the new sales team as well as the customer support team, which also sits in the same room. Heather was there sharing stories about tasting wine with her husband. James, the manager of the estate planning sales team, was relating how he is in a band and how his knack for motivating lazy bandmates is relevant to his day job.

Then the event started winding down. People started leaving, but there was still wine left to be drunk. The evening was about to get even better, though from a wine perspective you might say it was going to get a lot worse.

I shall spare the minute details of the rest of the three hours we were there in that conference room. Suffice it to say that Jonathan Lewis from LegalZoom yore dropped by, that we pooled money to buy packs of cigarettes and wine, and somehow Jonathan P. managed to finagle two jugs of wine and three packs of cigarettes from the big, black cashier at Long’s (for the price of one jug and one pack of smokes). 11:30 pm, with about eight glasses of wine, eight cigarettes, a Big Mac combo, and six Chicken McNuggets in me, I finally called it a night.

At that moment, saying bye to my coworkers, I told myself that maybe LegalZoom wasn’t so bad. If only they institutionalized Wednesday Wine Night–might be good for morale.

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!

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!

At the same time, it’s hard for me to try new wines at home. There are only two large drinkers in my family: myself and my mom. Thus, there’s a chance that the great wine I opened the night before will just sit for two, or three, or four days and turn into a sour vinegar. Such a waste when wine should be consumed right then and there!

This is not just a problem I face at home. This was a very common phenomenon for me while I was at college (so long ago!). Sometimes I just felt like a glass of wine, but what to do with the other four (or three, depending on your point of view) glasses? It certainly didn’t help that my residents were waaaay underage.

I was lucky enough to be in the company of one Alex B., a Bavarian by extraction who revels in drinking as much as, say, the next Bavarian, which is to say, A LOT. I have had nights when I’ve foolishly chugged one or two bottles of cheap wine in the effort to get as drunk as possible as quickly as possible. With Mr. B., I tend to drink large volumes of alcohol, but always good, delicious alcohol.

And it is with Alex that we go through two or three bottles of wine, quite easily. This is no dainty wine tasting with spitting into little porcelain cups–nay, it is real drinking! And by the third bottle, I can no longer taste the nuances of a wine, but it is so wonderful to rub my face.*

Thus is the raison d’etre for “The Third Bottle” red from GustavoThrace.

Imagine a dinner party–maybe… six people… three couples, right? You gotta figure that in the average party there will be at least one person who drinks way more than average and at least one person who drinks way less than average. Say that this is a nice meal… appetizer, main course, dessert. Start off with a white… then move onto a light red, maybe a pinot…

There are five “glasses” in a bottle–closer to four, if you’re honest. So far, eight glasses of wine. There are six people. There is probably that one person who drinks the equivalent of half a glass (I mean, come on… but this sort of thing still happens!). Then the “moderate” two or three drink a glass each. That means the two lushes have 2.25 glasses each. Sounds about right so far.

The problem is that you’re not done with the main course. There needs to be more wine! But what do you bring out? Your $90.00 Napa cabernet? Your $65.00 Sea Smoke pinot noir?

But this would be a waste. By now the taste buds are filled with spices and sauces and alcohol. You need a pinch hitter–you need GustavoThrace’s “The Third Bottle.” This is EXACTLY what GustavoThrace had in mind when creating this wine: a delicious, quality, affordable wine that will provide the oomph when oomph is needed–without the “ouch” that might be expected out of one’s wallet.

I opened the bottle I purchased on Saturday and drank tentatively. Colorado Wine Company reported that this wine was the fastest-selling wine in their history. For good reason. This is one great wine.

The nose is a bit overpowered by alcohol–it was like smelling an alcohol swab, actually. However, the taste was quite mellow. Smooth as heck, with moderate tannins that hit only after a bit of swishing. Dusty fruit–plum, cherries. Jammy, even. Licorice. Light-bodied for a cabernet–or what I believe is a cabernet (no grapes are listed on its label). A wine I would just love drink by itself… three bottles at a time.

And at the price, why not? $9.99, available at Colorado Wine Company (Eagle Rock, CA).

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* I’m wondering if anyone else has experienced this phenomenon. After drinking a lot, I find that my face and scalp get a bit numb. It feels good to rub my face and hair at that point… maybe on account of the thinning of my blood. Actually, I’m rubbing my face as I type–well, in between phrases. I had one or two (or three) glasses to drink after work!

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

Dinner was at the dependable Monsieur Marcel, which has a wonderful ambiance in the evening. A beautiful, dark brunette smiled to me from the wine bar (at least, I thought it was me!), so things were already taking a turn for the better as we were seated.

I had a glass of rosé from Chateau de L’Escarelle–in Provence–made from cinsault and grenache. It was wonderful–absolutely breathtakingly fresh, full of ripe strawberry, not in the least bit cloying. It was light but had substantial heft for a rosé. And at $6.49 a glass (one of the less expensive wines on the menu) it was nice to my wallet. This wine reminded me of another wonderful rosé, the Rosé of Syrah from Ampelos Cellars of the Santa Rita Hills in California:

Will had a glass of the 2004 tempranillo from Bodegas Ercavio. It was fruitier than other tempranillos I’ve had–less vanilla from oak. (Maybe this is because Bodegas Ercavio is not in Rioja, which has a reputation for oakiness.) It was a light, pleasing red, and well-priced at $6.99.

I had the Croque Marcel, basically a French panini consisting of grilled smoked turkey and goat cheese, with a side of frites. The top was covered with what the menu described as “mornay sauce” but what I will describe as heaven. Will had the coq au vin, a stew of chicken slow-cooked with mushroom, carrots, onion, and celery, served with a side of potatoes au gratin. The food, combined with a few Dunhill Lights and the aforementioned wine, made me forget LA for just a moment and feel like I was in Paris. (The table next to us was full of loud Frenchmen, adding to the atmosphere.)

After this dinner we wandered around the Farmer’s Market and the Grove, and I decided to check out the Cost Plus World Market. My previous post on champagne had elicited A LOT of positive reviews of Cost Plus on Yelp! and there was one a mere two-minute walk from Monsieur Marcel.

I have to say I was pretty impressed. Many different wines, many for a few dollars less than at your more frou-frou wine stores. In terms of Spainish wine, for instance, you can find a Conde de Valdemar Riserva for $14.99, and Marqués de Riscal for $12.99.

Will and I were looking around and a young woman says something indistinct to me. I turn around, and she says, “Oh, I’m sorry, I thought you worked here!” (a comment I get quite often at different sorts of stores–the Gap, Banana Republic, Jiffy Lube).

A few more words exchanged showed that she was looking for a malbec. I LOVE MALBEC! This woman and I searched the wine section and found the Argentine wine shelf–they had a few malbecs.

Then my eyes settled on the malbec reserva from Bodega Norton, priced at around $12-14. Then, below that the “regular” malbec from Bodega Norton for the bargain price of $7.99!

I had come across Bodega Norton frequently in magazines and online reviews. This estate was established in 1895 by an English engineer, making it the first winery in the now-famous Mendoza region of Argentina. I related this to the woman, who picked up a bottle. She either was won over by this information or was just tired of my going on and on about wine!

Whatever the case may be, I decided to pick up a bottle for myself–tasting notes will follow soon!

I remember the days when I was able to wait for my brother, flying in from college in New York, right at the gate. Going to the airport sucks in general, but this fact was in part ameliorated by being able to kill time at the magazine rack, McDonald’s, or Starbucks. And, of course, there’s no substitute for the gratification of seeing a loved one after months of separation.

And then September 11th. Homeland Security. The Transportation Security Administration. Suddenly, you couldn’t wait at the gate. You had to stand with the other schmucks at baggage claim.

But that wasn’t nearly as bad as when, maybe less than two years ago, the TSA instituted the 3-1-1 Rule.

You’re probably aware of this rule. ANYONE who has been on a plane in the past two years is aware of this rule. I first became aware of this rule when, trying to avoid a hold up by checking in bags, I was heading back home with only my laptop and backpack–and a bottle of contact lens solution, a 6-oz container of pomade, and other such sundries.

I had to throw out the contact lens solution. I had to throw out the 6-oz container of hair product, though I opened it for the TSA agent and showed how there was probably only 3 ounces left (they went by MARKED weight on the container, not by actual weight).

(Interesting aside: I discovered a box cutter at the bottom of one of the pouches of my backpack a few months later. This was after I had navigated the vagaries of TSA security procedures yet another three times! Way to keep everyone around me safe, TSA.)

This meant I couldn’t fly home with two or three bottles of wine from the Bay Area to share with my family, unless I checked it in. And who knows what would happen to glass bottles in a suitcase in the cargo hold of a plane experiencing moments of turbulence?

Now for the meat–or body–of this post. This article from Australia reports of a brewery executive traveling for the holidays having to destroy two bottles of Penfolds Grange, one bottle from 1980 and the other from 1982.

Let me tell you the weight of this destruction. The Grange is Australia’s most famous wine, and the bottles that were destroyed were collectively worth $3,000. Said the man:

“I had the lady from hell, who said ‘No sir, this is going to be bloody destroyed’ even though the Emirates people were happy to find my baggage and pack it for me.

“I was worried that they’d just go downstairs and someone would open the bin and there’s two bottles of Grange, so I smashed them.”

My God.

Of course, my criticism of the TSA doesn’t necessarily fit in this situation because the man was at Melbourne’s Tullmarine airport and not in the United States. However, as the TSA so proudly states on its website here: “Today, the wide-spread acceptance of [the 3-1-1 rule] demonstrates the international understanding of the threat to aviation from liquid explosives.”

Such as wine.

Alex and I split the cost of the bottle, which in retrospect seems ridiculous as it retails for $10.99.  No matter: at that time we were of the impression that $5 was too much for a bottle, much less $11!

This wine is from Domaine du Silène des Peyrals in the Languedoc region of France, specifically the Coteaux du Languedoc appellation.  The Languedoc might be new to people (especially relative to its more famous cousins, Bordeaux, Burgundy, and Champagne) but it accounts for more than a third of France’s total wine production. 

The terroir consists of Mediterranean scrubland (garrigue).  The soil is gravelly and full of sandstone.  There’s full, bright sun and fresh breezes from nearby Thau Lake.

This is a beautiful, seductive wine.  There are loads of flavor, predominantly those of earth.  There’s leather, pepper, tobacco.  There’s plum on the nose–the nose will blow you away.

The most unique thing about this wine is the mouthfeel, the texture.  It helps if you have ever had a persimmon and had that slight cottony, rough feeling in your mouth: drinking this wine leaves you with that same sensation.  It’s full, with mid- to high levels of tannin.

Alex came up with the description that this wine is like a “thornbush”: rough, wild, with deep persistent roots and brambles spreading everywhere.  It’s an amazing, amazing wine.

So much so, in fact, that the last few times I went to Vino! they were all out.  Not just at the store, mind you: every single bottle of this wine from the 2001 vintage was sold out.

Wait for the next vintage to pop up, and buy a few bottles.  At the price, you can’t afford not to.

COMPOSITION: Syrah, grenache, cinsault.

FOOD SUGGESTIONS: I wouldn’t necessarily recommend a food with this.  It’s good for an autumn night, with good conversation.

OTHER CONSIDERATIONS: This is kind of a funky wine.  It’s not very fruit forward, which made me a bit hesitant to serve it to my friends.  However, they, too, loved it.  It’s sort of like the wine equivalent of, say… Elliot Smith: dark, beautiful, but also accessible.  It’s not a Coldplay wine, nor is it a Björk wine!

Actually, let me qualify that statement a bit: I have a love-hate relationship with Berkeley. But, as they say, “absence makes the heart grow fonder.” So, being at home now for nearly a year and five months, working at LegalZoom.com, I love Berkeley now more than I hate it.

One of the great things about Berkeley is the abundance of absolutely wonderful food and drink. There is a culture of organic produce, slow cooking, artisanal craftsmanship, and good living.

There are a lot of wine shops in Berkeley or in the surrounding areas. Kermit Lynch is the one everybody knows about–he imports all those small French producers and sells them retail at his store on San Pablo. Then there are Vino! locations everywhere–one on College in Oakland, another on Solano, one off of Fourth Street in Berkeley, another in San Francisco. The Andronico’s market on North Shattuck (accessible on the 7 or 9 buses, for you college kids!) is also surprisingly good.

I want to focus on “A Wine Store for the People”–Vintage Berkeley, which is appropriately on Vine Street near the original Peet’s Coffee:

(My apologies for blatantly ripping off this picture from the Vintage Berkeley webpage!)

The store itself is housed in a former water pumping station, which makes entering the place a whimsical experience (if only there were special pipes that carried wine instead of water… try taking a bath in that, eh?).

Vintage Berkeley has wines that I’ve never seen anywhere else. It has selections from super-small growers from California and all around the world. It’s one place where you will be able to find the elusive txakolina, a Spanish (specifically Basque) white wine that is not always but usually a bit effervescent. Originally reserved for Basque royalty, txakolina is now ubiquitous in the tapas bars of the region. Txakolina is usually off-dry, with a pronounced mineral quality. It’s very refreshing, especially on a summer day.

The appeal of Vintage Berkeley is that most of the wines are below $20. The txakolina, for instance, is around $14. You can also sometimes find gems like the Shotfire Ridge Shiraz, a delicious powerful wine from the Barossa Valley of Australia, on the “clearance rack” for a few bucks off.

They have wine tastings in the afternoon, though I never was able to make it to any for various reasons. The salespeople are very friendly, young, and very enthusiastic.

Not all is rosé, however. Vintage Berkeley is hit or miss with its wines–some are very, very good (like the Pie Franco Rueda verdejo from Blanco Nieva or the txakolina) while others–despite salesperson recommendations–are simply terrible. The prices are right, however, so on the balance you’re still coming up ahead.

Also, the salespeople are very young and are probably just starting out in wine like me. One observation is that they seem to use “stone fruit” to describe every single white wine! But hey, at least you won’t be confronted with pretension! They’re so friendly you’ll forget you’re in a wine store.

No matter. Drink alone and you’re an alcoholic. Drink with someone else, even to the point of utter disregard for personal safety, and you’re just being sociable.

Alex was home for the holidays and decided to take the Amtrak down to Burbank, where I picked him up. We headed promptly to the Los Angeles Farmers Market on Fairfax, where we lunched magnificently at Moishe’s–he had the falafel plate while I had chicken shawerma. Afterwards, we went to Monsieur Marcel for a post-meal glass of wine. As we fully intended on drinking much more during the course of the day we decided to start with whites.

Alex had a glass of the Ile La Forge 2005 viognier and I had a glass of the Domaine de la Fruitie 2004 muscadet, made from the melon de Bourgogne grape.

The viognier was fruity–it tasted a bit like lychee, with just a hint of sweetness. The muscadet, on the other hand, did not appear to have any fruit at all. Another reviewer noted melon, lemongrass, and green apple aromas. On the palate the muscadet had a very strong mineral character, which may be from the vines being planted on “granite, mica, and schist.”

The muscadet seemed closest to a riesling in both our estimations. It was leaner than the viognier.

Neither wine made much of an impression on either me or Alex, and left us yearning for a nice red.

We headed next to the Colorado Wine Company in Eagle Rock. I had read good reviews of the place and was anxious to check it out. Inside, there were little cafe tables and stools, funky lighting, and a display jam-packed with wines that lay on racks parallel to the wall. I recognized some of the wines, including a Curran Syrah I’ve had my eye on for a while (they make an EXCELLENT grenache blanc; there are apparently less than 100 acres of this grape planted in California).

The back of the store has a lounge area that combines Asian, IKEA, and 70s elements–pretty cool look. Alex and I both had a glass of some Chilean cabernet that at first seemed closed off and then seemed to die and give up the ghost. It seemed more like a pinot noir than a cab, and to be truthful it seemed a bit baked. Luckily, we were ready to drink anything, and the proprietor was very generous in her pours. On the way out Alex spied a Bavarian brew (Schönromer Pils) he had never before encountered and, intrigued, we picked up two bottles.

Then off to Mission Wines, by far my favorite wine establishment in the area. As it was Sunday there were not too many people sitting at the bar–there were two older women in the corner drinking white wine. Alex and I started with a bottle of the tried and true Cimicky Trumps Grenache/Shiraz. It did not disappoint. We then had the Schönromer Pils, which was a very pale, very crisp beer. It reminded me of Japanese beer in that it was 100% crisp and 100% refreshing.

We followed that beer with more beer from Craftsman Brewing Company, a local concern that puts out some very drinkable beers. I had the cabernale (an ale mixed with some proportion of cabernet sauvignon!) and Alex had the holiday ale. The holiday ale was hoppy as heck, while the cabernale tasted almost like a kriek (sour cherry) lambic.

(The others at the bar warned me about the cabernale–they said it was unusual. It was, indeed unusual, but not unpleasant: I have had far worse in my time as a “fratboy”, including flings with a concoction dubbed a “geer”–half gin, half beer.)

We then split (in two glasses, mind you) a tasting of the 2006 Cheverny from Domaine du Salvard. I haven’t met a sauvignon blanc that I’ve liked, but this one was incredible. It was fresh, clean, and had a very piercing, bright acidity. There were citrus undertones to it, too–gorgeous wine.

I was glad that we had a wonderful white. I am much more into red wines than I am into whites, but that just means I demand more from whites. As Alex pointed out, whites seems to have a narrower range of flavor profiles, mouthfeels, etc., than red.

The Cheverny retailed at Mission Wines for $14.99, though I’ve seen it online for a few dollars less. It’s from Kermit Lynch, so you know it’s gotta be good!

Alex and I finished the day with a nice dinner at Bistro de la Gare in South Pasadena. But too much of a good thing can be bad: let’s just say there’s a particular trash can in South Pasadena that will forever hold a soft spot in my heart!

STANDOUT WINE: 2006 Domaine du Salvard Cheverny. A great value from Kermit Lynch, refreshing and crisp. The best sauvignon blanc I have ever had.