And of course, eating and drinking.

Added to the bottles thus far consumed during Snowmageddon are the two below:

The one on the left is a Riesling, the 2008 Selbach Riesling Spätlese ($14.99 from MacArthur Beverages).  I opened this for a dinner of mahi-mahi, wild rice, and roasted asparagus.  The mahi-mahi was pre-marinated, courtesy of Trader Joe’s, in a sweet-salty sauce, so I figured that the semi-sweet Spätlese would be a decent match.

According to Phil from MacArthur Beverages, this Riesling is made from grapes harvested from a vineyard in the Saar River Valley.  The vineyard itself is a secret; thus, the grapes are from a good vineyard but might not have been high-enough quality for a top producer’s top wine.  Whatever.  In the hands of a talented winemaker such grapes can gain new life (think of them as, um, halfway kids that end up becoming doctors and lawyers) and become a solid wine.  The Selbach was a very low 8% ABV (NICE!) and had a nose of honey and–strangely–clay.  This was relatively light-bodied, though the residual sugar gave it a hint of viscosity.  Lychee, lychee, lychee.  Very tart finish reminiscent of green apple or quince or some other pome.  I thought that the wine had a very strong entry but spent itself too quickly: the finish didn’t last very long at all.  Altogether not a bad wine–it didn’t end with that plasticine taste that plagues so many other lower-priced whites–and a favorite with the ladies who drank it (thanks, Rebecca, Megan, and Christine for your expert opinions!).

The next wine was awesome!  I have a not-so-secret love affair with Spanish wines and with the wines of R. Lopez de Heredia in particular.  Having had their 1999 “Viña Gravonia” crianza (a white wine made of 100% Viura) and 1999 “Viña Tondonia” reserva (a red made of 75% Tempranillo, 15% Garnacho, and 10% combined Mazuelo and Graciano) not too long ago, I had picked up a bottle of the 2004 “Viña Cubillo” crianza ($24.99/$20.99 on sale), a red made of 65% Tempranillo, 25% Garnacho, and 10% combined Mazuelo and Graciano) at MacArthur.

Being a crianza, the Viña Cubillo was released much earlier than the Viña Tondonia (compare 2004 with 1999–the 1999 Tondonia was released last year while the 2004 Cubillo was released this year); however, it still spent three years in barrel and another three in bottle before being released!

What an excellent wine!  Very light, clear in color, with a tremendous nose of bright berries, it positively exploded with flavor.  Think of a cross between juicy and savory and you get this wine.  Strawberry-rhubarb pie mixed with umeboshi?  Licorice and some herbs, too.  Tart and acidic, but with tannins waiting in the background to give the wine structure.  Lip-smacking wine, and easy, easy drinking.  I found this a more approachable wine than the Viña Tondonia.  One caveat, however: this wine seemed to fade in the glass after about half an hour.  Thus, I would open and drink this bottle straightaway and not keep it overnight.

Here’s what Lopez de Herdia had to say about this vintage of the Viña Cubillo:

Classified by The Regulating Council as excellent this 2004 has become one of the historic wines of Rioja. This harvest was not only good in quality but in quantity both in our own vineyards and in the whole D.O. Rioja.

Do yourself a favor and get a bottle of this wine.  It is excellent and everything a classical Rioja should be!

This particular meal, however, would be extra-special.

I had purchased a case of wine from the excellent MacArthur Beverages in Georgetown a few months ago, ostensibly for the purpose of hosting various wine tastings (including the Spanish tasting, the notes from which you can read here, and the outstanding Burgundy tasting, the write-up of which will be coming out later this week).  While there I came across this bottle:

It was the 1990 Weingut Max Ferd. Richter Erdener Treppchen Riesling Spätlese from the Mosel region of Germany (seen on the label as Mosel-Saar-Ruwer).

I was intrigued.  Law students don’t come across 19-year-old bottles of wine very often; one comes across old white wines even less frequently.  The price was right, too, at around $35-$40.  Phil, one of the wine stewards, saw that I was getting a few off-the-beaten-path-type wines like the 1999 Viña Gravonia Crianza and recommended the wine, saying that it was still very much alive and well though with some of the characteristic oxidation found in aged whites.  To seal the deal, the wine was apparently stored at the winery in perfect conditions until only a few months prior.  I couldn’t resist.

After the Burgundy tasting a few weeks ago, this was the last wine from my memorable trip to MacArthur Beverages.  But it was soon to join its noble brethren, as I had plans to open it for Alex’s celebratory meal.

For dinner, we invited the always engaging (and fellow Golden Bear) Waiching, who brought fresh blueberries and blackberries for dessert.  I can’t really describe what I cooked–it’s a recipe I made up some time ago and never bothered to write down.  I guess it could loosely be named lemon-mushroom chicken.  For my own purposes (I forgot what ingredients I needed while I was shopping for the meal at Trader Joe’s) I will list the recipe here:

6 chicken thighs (for total lack of options, I purchased boneless skinless thighs from TJ’s, which are actually pretty decent)
1 carton of white button mushrooms, sliced into 1/8-inch thick slices
2 lemons
1 Vidalia onion, halved then sliced
1 red bell pepper, diced
8-10 cloves of garlic (we love garlic!), minced
4-5 sprigs of flat leaf parsley, minced
1/2 cup of white wine (I use Charles Shaw’s sauv blanc for this)
1/2 cup crème fraîche
A few spoons of olive oil
Salt and pepper to taste

I brined my chicken thighs in a solution of brown sugar and salt for about an hour beforehand, but this step can be skipped–I found it DOES make the chicken more tender, though.

Brown but do not caramelize onion in a hot pan for about 5-10 minutes. Reserve. Lightly cook garlic in more olive oil in same pan for a few minutes, reserve. Add yet more oil, turn up heat, and add chicken thighs. Brown on each side, about 2-3 minutes. Add 1/2 cup of white wine. Let boil off a bit. Add mushrooms and red bell pepper, then add onion and garlic. Cover and reduce heat to low-medium for about 20 minutes. Remove chicken and set aside. Squeeze juice from a lemon into pan, add parsley. There should be a lot of liquid in the pan at this point; turn up heat and reduce liquid for about 5 minutes. Add crème fraîche, salt, and pepper, and more lemon juice is needed. Return chicken to pan, cover, and heat over low-medium for another 5 or so minutes. It’s pretty much done by this point. Serve with mashed potatoes or wild rice.

This is what the final product looks like:

We even had the proper wine glasses in which to serve the wine: Riedel Riesling grand cru glasses, which you can see at right.  We also had a “backup” bottle, a 2007 Dr. Loosen Alex brought back from Germany last semester.

So how was everything?

The meal itself was, I think (and Alex agrees), delicious!  A pleasant bit of tart freshness from the lemon and parsley, with flavorful mushrooms and sweet, still somewhat-crisp cubes of red bell peppers swimming in a creamy sauce.  Dessert, too, was good: Greek yogurt with crushed marcona almonds, honey, and blueberries.  But this is a wine blog, right?

The 1990 riesling was something else.  The nose was extremely interesting, initially with honey and lychee but, as the wine opened up, with a scent reminiscent of charcoal.  I realized after a bit that the wine smelled like shoe polish, which impression Alex immediately affirmed.  Waiching, as the only (official) female at the dinner, declared that no, the wine smelled like nail polish.  (Actually, I had initially said nail polish but later revised my opinion, though she stuck with that description.  Interesting–a “battle of the sexes”?)

The wine was extremely tart at first, with Waiching opining it tasted like a Pink Lady apple, then a Fuji.  There was definitely something apple-y about it, with a hint of spice.  Honey, too, green fruits.  Definitely a good deal of sweetness.  There was subtle oxidation, surprisingly little for a 19-year-old wine (the Viña Gravonia mentioned earlier seemed much more oxidized though it was 10 years younger).  The mouthfeel seemed a bit limp, unfortunately, and the finish, while it did last, wasn’t too memorable.

The cork held up pretty well for nearly 20 years:

Overall, it was a good wine and one I am glad to have tried.  It was worth $35-$40 in my book, though I’m not sure I would go out of my way to seek this particular bottle out.  I think we were expecting some more pyrotechnics, something more… absurd.

Which is what we got at a 9:40 showing of Bad Lieutenant: Port of Call New Orleans, Werner Herzog’s latest offering (Alex is a huge Herzog fan, forcing–I mean convincing–me to watch a few of his movies).  Nicolas Cage is the title character, a police hero who spirals into drug addiction for a back he injured saving someone’s life during Hurricane Katrina.  This is an excellent, excellent movie, one of the best I’ve seen all year, a gem of a black comedy featuring a surprisingly restrained Val Kilmer, imaginary iguanas, break-dancing souls, and Johnny Adam’s rendition of “Release Me”–the soul version of what Engelbert Humperdinck made famous in 1966.  Be prepared to want a lucky crack pipe.

And now I might very well be older than they were at the time.

(My torts professor summed it up quite nicely when he quipped, “It’s a strange feeling when both the president-elect AND the chief justice are younger than you are.”)

Now that I’m a quarter century old, I feel as if I should be an adult.  I certainly feel adult-like at certain moments–for instance, when I cook dinner, or when I go to the Ritz-Carlton for drinks (that one time!)–but sometimes feel as if I’m a child playing grownup. I think many of my peers feel the same way.

All that aside, it IS nice to get together and do grownup stuff–like hold wine tastings.  My roommate and I decided to throw a wine tasting; I decided also to throw a wine tasting before that wine tasting to get the feel of things.

I’ll spare you (and myself) the details of the parties.  The first coincided with the arrival of Margie’s friend Ruth from Michigan and Alisa’s friend Kami from Arizona.  The second coincided with Margie’s birthday.  All in all, fortuitous timing.

This was the first wine tasting event I hosted, so I was anxious to do it right.  To that extent, I went to the Wine Specialist and talked to J.C. (their Spanish wine buyer) for over an hour, picking out wines.  The combined wines over both tastings were:

• 2007 | Visión “Cono Sur” | Sauvignon Blanc | Casablanca Valley, Chile
• 2007 | Verget du Sud | Chardonnay | Vin de Pays du Vaucluse, France
• 2007 | Mulderbosch | Chenin Blanc | Stellenbosch, South Africa
• 2006 | André Lorentz | Riesling | Alsace, France
• 2007 | Jean Descombes | cru Beaujolais | Morgon, Beaujolais, France
• 2007 | Maipe “Rosé of Malbec” | Malbec | Mendoza, Argentina
• 2006 | Domiciano de Barrancas “Cosecha Nocturna” | Malbec | Mendoza, Argentina
• 2007 | Oracle of the Stars | Pinotage | Western Cape, South Africa
• 2007 | Thorn-Clarke “Shotfire” | Shiraz | Barossa Valley, Australia
• 2007 | Cueva de las Manos “Bonarda Old Vine Reserve” | Bonarda | Mendoza, Argentina

I bought a few repeats, as well.

There was also a Chilean cabernet sauvignon that I wasn’t intending to serve (and so didn’t write down) but ended up serving after the first tasting; we also went through a few other bottles from my own “collection” and from others.

The theme for both tastings was “1.5 Generation Wines: Between the Old and New Worlds.”  Many of the varietals–sauvignon blanc, syrah/shiraz, and malbec, especially–have had great success after being transplanted to different parts of the world.

The first tasting was a bit more improvised–I didn’t have any food to go along with the tasting, but we more than made up for that by drinking a lot of wine.  The second tasting was more planned–Alex and I made appetizers such as pork sausage fried with apples and cider, lox with chevre and green garlic on melba toast, roasted Hungarian peppers with Greek goat cheese on sliced baguette, hummus, dark chocolate drops with raspberry, etc.  Daphne brought some spicy tuna rolls and vegetable rolls, as well.  Delicious.

I won’t comment on all the wines, but only the notable ones.

The Visión “Cono Sur” is an excellent sauvignon blanc–midway between the Old World (minerals, concentrated) and the New World (lush, grassy) styles, this was a real crowd pleaser.  The Maipe “Rosé of Malbec” was an intense blood red, almost as dark as the Beaujolais or a pinot noir.  It had a bit of a rubber boot nose, but this gave way to some nice berry fruit that ended on dried notes of raisin.  The Oracle of the Stars pinotage was a favorite–smoky, nice acid–and a steal at $7.99.  It’s definitely a wine I’d keep around for dinner or easy drinking.

Jordan and Margie donated a bottle of 2005 Bodegas Arrocal tempranillo from the Ribera del Duero region of Spain.  We poured it in a decanter and swished it around.  I happen to love tempranillo from Ribera del Duero (Tinto Pesquera, anyone?)–they’re intense and dark, with earth and tobacco.  “This is going to be evocative of a dry, dusty riverbed,” I announced drunkenly as I poured out tastes from the decanter.  Yup.  It WAS like a dry, dusty riverbed.

Overall, I really enjoyed the process of hosting a wine tasting, and people seemed to like it.  Then again, who wouldn’t like to pretend they’re adults and get drunk off of good wine?

Needless to say, I am pretty content right now.  Washington, DC is a great town, and I find myself enjoying law school much more than college.  One of the reasons for that is there are some good people here, and fun things to do.  Like drink.  And cook.  And drink and cook I did for three consecutive days.

Wednesday

My friend Adrian invited a few people over (all guys, regrettably) on Sunday for beef stew and poetry.  I brought over my “house red”–a bottle of Nero d’Avila from Trader Joe’s (retail: $4.99)–and we discussed Rudyard Kipling’s poem “If” over steaming bowls of stew and sips of wine.  To repay the favor, I invited Adrian and two of our friends to my place on Wednesday for a meal of roast lamb, honey-rosemary potatoes, and roasted garlic asparagus.

The meal turned out okay–I don’t have a meat thermometer, and I think the recipe short-changed the time required to cook the lamb.  It was pretty rare when I started carving it, but the problem was solved by quickly pan-frying the slices over high heat.

With the lamb I served a 2005 Cahors Chateau du Cèdre Héritage ($12.99); afterwards, for dessert (along with Alisa’s wonderful little vanilla pudding tarts) we had a 2006 Baron K’ riesling kabinett from the Rhine ($19.99).

I am in love with the “black wine” of Cahors.  They must contain at least 70% malbec, which is very unusual given that malbec is a minor grape in the rest of France (see: Bordeaux).  This varietal has been transplanted to the New World with HUGE success, so much so that many people immediately associate malbec with Argentina, for instance.  The Old World and New World styles are very different, however: New World malbecs tend to be denser, bolder, smoother, with more dramatic notes of chocolate and earth.  Old World styles are more refined, more restrained–in my opinion a bit more “leather-dampness-earth” than “sunny-earth”; definitely a rainy-weather red.  The Cèdre Héritage did not disappoint.  It went extremely well with the lamb.

The riesling had a bit of sweetness to it and a high level of acidity.  It wasn’t the best I’ve had, however, because it was a bit too insubstantial for my taste.  Pairing the riesling with the tarts wasn’t the best idea, either, as the sweetness of the pudding clashed a bit with the riesling.  Oh well.  Writing more of the first legal memorandum of my law school career afterwards was fun.

Thursday

I got it in my mind to cook Hungarian paprika chicken for dinner for a certain lady.  Hungarian paprika chicken’s three main components are chicken, LOTS of paprika, and sour cream.  I didn’t know exactly which wine to pair with this dish–I first thought of Jean-Luc Matha’s marcillac, which is made from a little-known local varietal called mansois.  The marcillac had very pronounced notes of paprika and pepper, which would have made it an excellent match.  I DID manage to find a marcillac from the Wine Specialist, but I decided to go with a South African pinotage (a cross between pinot noir and cinsault) from Indaba.

The Indaba… well, was very acidic at first, very spicy.  It later opened up and mellowed out and became a pretty enjoyable wine… but it’s definitely a food wine in my book.  It also got me really, really hungover for some reason!

Friday

Bell Liquor and Wine Shoppe was having a FREE champagne tasting.  Six of us decided to make reservations and go to the event.  We all dressed up fancy and walked en masse to the store, where we went to the upstairs tasting room.  They were serving eight champagnes–four from Piper Heidsieck and four from Charles Heidsieck.

The first four were an extra-dry, brut, rosé, and “cuvee supreme.”  All were mostly chardonnay, with smaller parts of pinot noir and pinot meunier.  The rosé had some reserve pinot noir wine blended in later during the fermentation process.  Of the four, the consensus favorite was the extra-dry, which, despite being extra-dry had a pleasant sensation of sweetness, probably from the citrus fruit on the palate.  It had an aroma of nuts and vanilla, and had nice body and a crisp, clean finish.

The last four were the expensive bottles.  The 1999 Charles Heidsieck rosé was MUCH more enjoyable than the previous one, probably because it was aged much longer and was fermented directly from whole pinot noir grapes with their skins.  It was also like… $80.

We got the chance to drink the “Champagne Charlie” brut from 1985…  What a fantastic champagne!  Members of my party described its nose as rubber or cheese–normally pejorative terms, I know, but fitting and perfectly appropriate in this context.  It had that nutty, slightly-oxidized character of old white wines.  Interesting and delicious–though, at about $180 I won’t be buying it anytime soon!

A few of us got bottles of the extra-dry ($33.99) to save for special occasions.  End of the semester, maybe?

I took a few days off of work just to chill out and get my second wind, so to speak, before heading off to law school in July.  Thursday and Friday were spent with the family doing nothing in particular, so Saturday afternoon was ripe for something fun: Mission Wines with the co-workers was in order.

The official lineup for the day was:

 
The first, the 2006 Josef Leitz Drachenstein (Dragonstone) riesling was billed as a delicious, decently-priced riesling from the Rheingau region of Germany.  The Rheingau isn’t as famous as the Mosel, but it is home to the highest proportion of riesling vines in Germany.  It was a full, fat riesling, with lower but still substantial acidity and a fair bit of sweetness.  Overall, a fair-drinking riesling that, around $12-$15, is a safe bet for summer fare, Thai, or lovin’.

I was really looking forward to the 1996 R. Lopez de Heredia Vina Gravonia, which is a traditional-style white rioja made of 100% viura. 

Viura is a Spanish grape that apparently has a nose of flowers and the taste of green apples and nuts.  It also is best consumed young in most cases, as the grape is supposed to lose its nose and taste rather easily.  This fact makes the Vina Gravonia that much more unusual: it is deliberately stored by the winemaker for years until it is “ready”.  This prolonged aging in oak barrels sets Lopez de Heredia apart from many other Spanish wineries and, in fact, from many other winemakers period.

Unfortunately, I could not taste the magic of this wine.  The nose, indeed, was like a bouquet, and the taste was tart, with heavy hints of green apple.  However, there also seemed an acetic taste of banana, and a bit too much oak.  A bit too much acidity.  In fact, I likened the end taste to licking a AA battery (you’ve never done that?  My friend, you’ve never lived!) Overall, it was a disappointment, despite its renowned pedigree.

I think that the Vina Gravonia destroyed my taste buds and ruined the next two wines–they had a really bitter aftertaste that I would never expect to find in a Bordeaux or any red wine, for instance.

The last wine on the official tasting list was the 2005 Ridge Lytton Springs zinfandel, which is composed to 77% zin, 17% petite syrah, and 6% carignane.  It was strong enough to withstand the devastation of the Vina Gravonia, with firm tannins and nice structure.  Berries and cherry, maybe some licorice.  Jonathan detected a hint of menthol on the nose, which I sensed as well.  I was very pleased with this wine: it lived up to its prominent name.

Then, true to fashion, Dave poured two bonus tastes: the 2006 Cavallotto Dolcetto d’Alba from the Piedmont in Italy, and the 2006 Anthill Farm “Peters Vineyard” pinot noir.  The Dolcetto was very nice–smooth, a bit tannic.  Nice blueberry, a bit gamey–it threw a fair amount of sediment in my glass (though mine was the last glass poured).  The Anthill Farm was very, very light: almost clear, with the classic taste of cherry.  Very focused for such a clear-looking wine!

After the tastings, we had two bottles of wine on our own: the 2005 Ch. W. Bernhard Hackenheimer Kirchberg Scheurebe Spätlese and the 2005 Pago Florentino Tinto. 

The first was an utterly entrancing riesling from the Rheinhessen region of Germany.  Peaches, nectar–a gorgeous honeyed texture evocative of waves of silk.  Autumnal, evocative of the first golden falling leaves and the cold.  At around $22-$25, an excellent value for the pure hedonism of the wine.

The Pago Florentino, from the La Mancha appellation of Spain, is made of 100% tinto fino (tempranillo).  Overall, inky, with pronounced tannins.  Classic tempranillo–good price for a good example of this varietal for around $20.

We weren’t done, though.  We shared two 750 mL bottles of beer: the Delirium Tremens, which is a Belgian strong pale ale produced by Huyghe Brewery in Belgium.  It clocks in at a pretty strong 8.5% ABV.  It was a clear, golden color, light and pleasant.  It was like Hoegaarden but hoppier.

It was pleasant, but no match for Unibroue’s La Terrible (profiled two posts ago): this dark, 10.5% ABV monster destroyed any lingering bitterness from the wines and also destroyed the rest of my sobriety.  Delicious, delicious, and almost the last beer save a comped taste of Craftsman Brewery’s Biere de Mars (Beer of March).  Mission Wines has three of Craftsman’s beers on rotation at the bar.  I’ve previously had quite a few of their beers, including the memorable Cabernale from the holiday season.

The Biere de Mars was good–interesting, and good.  Strong licorice taste, hoppy.  Medium color, and high level of acidity.  Very refreshing. 

Now I leave you with some pictures of my coworkers and I: I’m the Asian guy in the blue “whale” shirt.  Enjoy!

There. I’ve said it. Maybe it’s because I’m a “neo-oenophile”, but almost every red wine smells like cherry. Almost every wine is evocative of cherry. I suppose this is somewhat understandable, given that wine = fruit = cherry (I got a B- in second-semester calculus, so you can be sure the transitive property applies here!). However, oft is the time I’ve opened a new bottle, poured a bit of its content into the waiting glass, swirled the liquid around and around, and raised the globe to my nose to smell one and but one thing: cherry.

One recent wine stands out as an exception to this rule. The Pleiades from Sean Thackrey, one of the wines I had at the Saturday tasting, smelled overwhelmingly of menthol–as in eucalyptus–and anise–as in biscotti. Cherry, it was not. Delicious and unique, it was. More about that particular wine in the promised post!

Speaking of unique wines, or, more properly, wine regions, there’s an obscure little appellation in Southwestern France–just by the Spanish border–called Irouléguy. This runs into the Basque area of Spain, and many people here speak Basque in addition to French and Spanish. The majority of red wines produced in this area is made of cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc, and, most importantly, tannat.

Wine from Irouléguy is supposed to be rustic, deep, and brooding. I previously had an Irouléguy from Domaine Etxegaraya a few years back and remembered that I liked it a lot. Thus, when I saw an Irouléguy–this one from Domaine Ilarria–at Mission Wines at the last tasting, I picked it up for home:

Its composition: 70% tannat, 20% cabernet franc, 10% cabernet sauvignon. Tannat, with its firm, tannic grip and dark, purple color, predominates in this wine.

I opened it yesterday right before a Korean meal of rice, kimchi, pollack roe, spinach cakes, fish–pretty much a wine pairing nightmare. I knew I only had a few minutes to enjoy the wine unsullied by the sledgehammer tastes of red pepper, shrimp paste, vinegar, roe… I opened the bottle of Ilarria, poured some into a glass, gave it a long, hard swirl, and brought the globe to my nose.

Again, cherry. Damn it. But more, too. Was that… oregano? Blackberry, maybe. I was really grasping at straws here.

The taste: straw! Earth. I tasted the sweet, bitter, slimy taste of persimmon. Some herbs. The tannins made themselves known, though they weren’t at all unwelcome. Musky, meaty–the wine definitely reminded me of the Japanese concept of umami (read this interesting article on umami here that I had linked to a few posts back)… salty, sweet, savory. Mostly savory. Something meat-like. Gamy, even.

[ UPDATE from 2/29: Late last night I hit upon the EXACT taste the wine reminded me of--umeboshi, or Japanese pickled ume (sort of a cross between a plum and apricot). Specifically, the taste was that of purple perilla, a plant related to mint, which is used to make ume and can be found, in pickled form, along with umeboshi. ]

Then, I started dinner. I don’t care how self-reliant, fierce, and proud the Basques are, but their wine was no match for my native cuisine.

Today, I had leftover “gourmet” pizza from Heirloom for dinner. This pizza had some strong mozzarella, strong tomato, strong sauce, and strong oregano and thyme. Perfect for the wine. I poured myself a liberal glass, had a bite of pizza, washed it down with wine–ah. A wonderful match! The herb profile of the wine was a superb complement to that of the pizza. The pizza brought out a latent acidity I had not previously noticed on the first tasting. Very, very good.

I’ve been wondering about which wine, if any, matches with Korean food. I love off-dry riesling with Thai or some Chinese, but Korean food is not especially known for being sweet. I love dry riesling or a nice bubbly with Japanese–sushi or sashimi–but the thought of champagne with bean paste soup makes me want to throw up. Traditionally, Koreans have had soju or beer with their meals, but could we possibly reconcile wine with kimchi?

The only one pairing I know goes well is zinfandel with kalbi jim (err… braised shortribs). The shortribs are braised in a sweet broth, complete with mushrooms, carrots, potato, and radish. It’s a hearty, filling dish, and one that goes very well with the slight sweetness and acidity of zin.

Any thoughts, my Korean brethren?

My first exposure to rosés was when I worked at Adagia Restaurant in Berkeley–specifically, we had Brander Vineyard’s Chateau Neuf de Pink and Domaine Tempier’s Bandol rosé. From what little I remember of those two wines, I liked Tempier–it had an austere quality, bone-dry. All I remember of Brander’s selection is chef Brian Beach poking fun at the name.

All in all, however, I was unimpressed. Reds–especially the brooding malbec and the sensual shiraz–were still my willing mistresses.

That changed when I tasted the Ampelos Rosé of Syrah last year. It was the late summer, hot as heck. “Teeth-staining” and “tannic” were not the qualities I was looking for in my wines, let alone any beverage. At a tasting they poured the Ampelos rosé and it was love at first taste.

Strawberries. Strawberries everywhere. It was as if strawberries were bursting forth–Dionysus-style–from the glass. Fresh. Quite simply spring in a glass.

The taste is even better than the bouquet. More strawberries, bright and with a lively level of acidity. The acidity, though noticeable, is not overbearing at all.

The most important thing here, though, is the heft of the wine. Most rosés I’ve had are thin–Kate Moss in a redhead wig. This thin body usually led to wines that were just uninspiring or downright disgusting. The Ampelos, however, is voluptuous–a ripe, full wine (maybe on account of its being made from syrah?) that reminds me of some fetching farmer’s daughter on a warm spring night. You can think of it as the sassy daughter of a plump syrah wife and some dour riesling husband.

Not sweet. But fruity. Balanced acidity. Soft finish that is free from that cheap plasticine quality I hate in whites and rosés. Overall, quite possibly the best rosé I have ever had in my life–and contender for one of the best wines I’ve had, period.

That was, of course, the 2005 vintage. How would the 2006 compare?

My love affair with the Ampelos was tragically short. After enjoying two quick bottles I found that all the stores in my area were out. And I had to wait 10 long months until April at Silverlake Wines sent a reply to my wistful e-mail: “We received a case of the Ampelos rosé today. Let us know how many you would like us to put aside for you.”*

I set aside four: one for myself, and one each for three co-workers. (I’m not a jealous man!) At $17 – $18 it’s more expensive than, say, a white zinfandel, but worth every penny.

I just came home from a day in Silver Lake (which will the subject of a future post) with Jonathan Lewis and opened my bottle. My mom, my sister, and I quaffed copious quantities of the wine. Utterly delicious. Entrancing. Beautiful. Spring in a glass, two years in a row.

COMPOSITION: 100% syrah.

APPELLATION: Santa Rita Hills in the Santa Ynez Valley of California
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* One of the guys working at Silverlake Wine asked if I was the guy who sent an e-mail asking them to set aside some bottles of the Ampelos Rosé. I said yes. He asked if my name was Joon. Again, yes.

“That’s funny. There’s another guy–I swear his name is Joon Song–who wrote us an e-mail asking about the Ampelos. I thought you guys might be related or something.”

Whatever Ampelos Cellars is putting into their rosé certainly seems to be working with Korean-American males, specifically those named Joon Song. Ladies–now you know the way to my, err… our hearts!

But in reality, isn’t that what much of the fun of wine is all about?

Sitting around a table at night with one of two of your friends, a bottle or two of newly-purchased wine.  The first is–say, the 2006 estate riesling from Robert Eymael, which is a gorgeous amber or straw color, sweet, with a honeyed mouthfeel.  It’s nice to take turns describing the wine in terms wine critics would be proud of, nice to know that for a little bit of money one can feel part of the social and cultural elite.

Because that’s a huge reason for why someone would start to have an interest in wine.  People who choose to take an active interest in anything–poetry, sports, cars, food, photography, music–start to delve deeper into their subject, to examine all the details and nuances of the Red Sox or William Carlos Williams (one point for someone who can name the very superficial link between those two!).

Yet wine transcends mere hobby.  It’s a lifestyle–more than that, it’s a statement of a lifestyle.  It’s very possible to drink wine casually with dinner or during social gatherings.  But why not… water… or soda…?  Or malt liquor, for that matter? 

To get a nice buzz is a good reason.  But come on.  Anyone who’s ever tried to impress a date would know that a glass of good wine is more showy than a glass of Mr. Pibb (which is delicious).  A glass of wine says something.  A glass of soda does not.

There is the 100-point scale of Robert Parker.  There is the “Do You Know What You Like?” metric developed by Best Cellars (try it–it’s great!).  There is the rather unorthodox method of Wine X Magazine of comparing wines to songs, or ideas like “a deep French kiss in a phone booth–nice depth, great mouth feel, a little woody, a bit tight.”  Then there is the Song family method of “good” and “bad” wine.

There are so many wines out there, so many different regions and winemakers and varietals and cuvees and blends–it’s impossible to learn about wine without relying on categorizations.  So have fun–feel classy–write tasting notes–get a little bit snobby.  Give wines a score, assign them an idea, or split them into the good and the bad.  It’s why you picked up that bottle before showing up to a fancy dinner party, right?

UPDATE: My friend Laszlo just as I published this post sent me this link for an article from The Wall Street Journal that talks about wine snobbery!  Give it a read!