While preparing for a trip to Chile not too long ago — made possible by a companion airfare deal, the name of which turned out to be ironic — I fretted over how, exactly, to refer to my wife when we arrived in this exciting though deeply conservative country. (At the time, not even straight divorce was legal in Chile, not to mention gay marriage.) Thinking it was a synonym, we decided on compañera. Not too closety, not too in your face.
Wrong.
As I discovered (sadly, while finishing Isabel Allende’s House of the Spirits on the 16-hour flight home), in South American Spanish, compañera means “Marxist comrade.” In fact when the dictator Gerneral Pinochet ruled Chile, the word was illegal. No wonder people stared, much more than if I had shouted, “Excuse me, but my lesbian lover and I have reservations for two!”
We had no losses in translation, thank goodness, when my tasting group the Ladies Tasting Society met to taste their way through the latest in Chilean wine, white and red. We declared in fluent English that Chilean wines have advanced in pace with Chilean politics: what used to be a source for cheap, forgettable varietals (mainly Cabernet and Chardonnay) had begun to yield diverse, interesting wines that try hard to reflect the unique places they came from.
The vast vineyards of Chile are also the source of a unique varietal called carmenère, which the Chileans are very proud to have rescued from France before disease devastated Europe’s vineyards in the nineteenth century. Pronounced “carmenAIR”, the grape used to be part of the blend that makes up the great wines of Bordeaux. But it so loved its new colonial home that carmenère never looked back. Now the Chileans bottle it alone or mix it with cabernet to make a wonderful,deeply colored red with big cherry flavors laced with holiday spices.
Sure, all of the Chilean wines we tasted were well made. Each displayed the flavors we expected from the grape varieties that went into them. But some bored us. We detected that tell-tale note of freshly-mowed grass in a Maipo Valley sauvignon blanc, for example. But one lady sighed, “pedestrian.”
At $8, however, you could say a lot worse about that Morandé sauvignon blanc from the Curicó Valley. And for a few dollars more, you can upgrade to a Haras de Pirque “Character” ($16), another sauvignon blanc that the ladies found “exciting.” In fact, that seems to be the trick: look to Chile for inexpensive, well made basics, or spend a bit more for wines that will kick the ass of any Napa version at the same price. Just ask your compañeras to share the wealth.
Tasting Notes
BEST OF TASTING
Santa Rita “Triple C” (Maipo Valley, 1999) $49
Good spice and herbs on the nose, some earth. Chunky mid-palate full of black and red fruits, a touch of green pepper from the cabernet franc in the blend. Long, complex finish. B+
BEST VALUE
Echeverría Chardonnay Unwooded (Curicó and Maipo Valleys, 2004) $9
Wonderful, pure fruit—apples, melons, a little lemon. Not particularly serious but very well made. B-
ALSO TASTED
Casa Lapostolle Merlot “Cuvee Alexandre” (Rapel and Colchagua Valleys, 2002) $22
A merlot to clear the grape’s post-Sideways bad rap. Structured, powerful, with complex black fruit, herb, green pepper flavors. Clipped finish—young? B
Viu Manent Camenère “Reserve” (Colchagua Valley, 2003) $10
Ruby-colored, medium bodied, and well-balanced, showing aromas of red and black cherries, with characteristic notes of pepper and Asian spices. For two bucks more, their Malbec reserve was very nice, too. B-