I’m sitting here drinking a delicious glass of 2006 Chateau St. Jean Robert Young Chardonnay. It’s rich, with plenty of vanilla and nutmeg, perfect as a nightcap without food, kinda like dessert. I have no complaints, except: why oh why am I falling back on chardonnay? Because yesterday — in good part because I’m preparing for an upcoming meeting of the Ladies Tasting Society, where we’re focusing on whites from the Rhône region in France.
 
I ordered a Chapoutier Côtes du Rhône blanc Belleruche ($10 per glass at the Fairmont in Santa Monica, $11 retail), and totally loved it.
 
Why? Click here to discover: (more…)

Dry Creek Valley just can’t get no respect. Lately James Laube, the chief California taster for the Wine Dictator Spectator magazine, has been pointing thumbs-down on the entire appellation, a bucolic stretch of vineyards and dairy farms tucked into the northwestern corner of Sonoma county. Dry Creek, he laments, has an identity problem: it lacks flagship wineries to bolster its reputation, as well as a signature grape to serve as a rallying point for fans.
 
On the occasion of the Winegrowers of Dry Creek Valley’s Passport weekend, I spent last weekend tasting up and down the creek. And although there’s some truth to Laube’s assessment, click here for some important exceptions to the dictator’s rule: (more…)

I learned this Easter that, when it comes to pairing with honey-baked ham, there is only one wine better than gewürztraminer — and perhaps only one that is more obscure and challenging. (“Oh, I don’t like gewürz-whatever,” I always hear, “too sweet.” Just you wait…)
 
I learned my lesson thanks to the beauty of the leftover. You see, at Easter dinner proper, my family polished off a “yummy” (in my father-in-law’s words) bottle of Gundlach Bundschu’s 2007 “Rhinefarm Vineyard” gewürztraminer. It was utterly dry, perfectly balanced, and medium-bodied; but its tastes were so life-sized it came off big and candied. Flowery, nutty aromas greeted us, and were followed by complex flavors of apple, pear, lychee, and a little lime on the fresh finish. It went just perfectly with our ham, which I served with a spiced pear relish.
 
Guess what, though? The GunBun gewürz got blown off the table by a wine I’d never even heard of before that I drank with leftovers the next day for lunch. For the mystery contender, click here: (more…)

I confess that gewürztraminer is not a go-to white wine for me. It’s not because of its reputation for being sweet; there are plenty of dry gewürztraminers out there that are fresh and non-cloying, but still pack the grape’s trademark, tropical fruit punch. Nor is it because gewürztraminer is hard to pronounce (just belt out, “geh-VERZ-trah-meener”) or impossible to interpret, even when the label is in German.

The real reason I don’t drink gewürz more often is because it’s just too much. As in, too much of a good thing. A beautiful, but decadent perfume of honeysuckle, rose, pineapple, and Asian spices; a full-bodied blast of fruit compote, starring lychee, on the tongue; a lingering finish with exotic flavors — who can take all that in a glass of wine?

I’ll tell you when I can: Easter. (more…)

I love this wine because it reminds me of the sea. Indeed, the part of the world it comes from enjoys a strong maritime influence: warm summer days, but cool nights, with lots of fog and rain. (This region gets so much precipitation, actually, that in many of its older vineyards the vines are supported by trellises made of granite, because the weather will rot wooden stakes.) The example I’m drinking speaks clearly of its cool-climate, coastal origins: it’s a pale yellow, green-tinged, light-to-medium-bodied wine, full of refreshing, bracing acids, complete with a palate-cleansing wash of lemon and juicy summer melon flavors. In the mid-palate, I get honeydew, apple, and a distinct briny note, like the vineyard it came from looks out toward the Atlantic in the distance. This wine’s reasonable price makes it even more perfect to stock up on for the coming warm weather.

What could it be? Email me with your guess or click here for the answer: (more…)

My wife likes to tease me by saying that I “woefully under-decant.” I don’t think so. But it is true that I rarely decant. And I admit that a few times I’ve been burned by not decanting — take the example of the Glen Carlou 2005 Grand Classique I wrote about recently. In fact, the Grand Classique, which tasted “weird” when I opened it but delicious the next day, inspired me to review my theory about when (and when not) it’s a good idea to decant. For my guide, click here for more: (more…)

“Weird.” That’s what I thought when I first tasted Glen Carlou’s 2005 Grand Classique, a Bordeaux-style red blend from South Africa. It displayed such strong notes of game, doused campfire, and rusty iron, it made me think of an old farm. So I had a glass, vacuum-stopped the bottle, then revisted the next day — and a much less rustic wine had emerged. Still a purple-black wine and totally opaque, but with a decent nose of black cherry, brambles, and only pleasant little reminders of what was, yesterday, an overwhelming smokiness and minerality. Pure, vivid flavors of black cherry liqueur, a mouth-coating velvety feel, and a decent finish all added up to a delicious red wine to be had for $15. Just be sure to decant.

I’m still scratching my head over the 2005 Orin Swift “Papillon” we ordered at Elway’s Steak House in Denver — and almost rejected because the bottle is so repulsive! It would have been the first time I’d sent a wine back because the label made my stomach turn.

Good thing we tamped down our revulsion, because out of this beastly bottle out came a beautiful purple liquid, glittering with ruby highlights. A decent nose with fruit and cedar was followed by an absolutely delicious drink, bursting with blueberry, licorice, and blackberry flavors, with nice vanilla and some sweet oak in the background. The Papillon is definitely a big, ripe, Napa cabernet blend, but it’s not over the top. I was struck, actually, at how sleek and balanced it tasted, considering all that fruit and glycerin. It was silky, vivid, and even a tad juicy in the mouth, not jammy. We went home and promptly ordered a case.

But why the filthy fingers with dirt-encrusted nails and prison tattoos? Clearly the winemaker at Orin Swift, a young guy named Dave Phinney, has some interest in the theme of incarceration, since his Zinfandel blend is called “The Prisoner.” The Internet is divided on whether “Papillon” is a reference to the Steve McQueen movie; but everyone agrees that the Greg Norman photo would be more appealing on a gallery wall. All I can say is that Phinney must have a lot of confidence in this wine (which retails at about $55) to top it off with this image — and he’s 100 percent justified.

A bottle of 2001 Cornas from August Clape got me wondering recently about a thing called bottle variation. You see, the Cornas was a show stopper. My notes read: “Mouth-watering aromas of green olives and black fruit. A huge syrah, rich, maybe a little monolithic, but with loads of ripe plum and distinct olive and grilled meat characteristics. The clear favorite at the table, where we enjoyed it with homemade pasta and red sauce with sausage.”

Problem is, I’ve had a bunch of this wine (I originally bought a case) and I don’t remember loving it. To find out why, perhaps, click here for (more…)

Although it’s the most widely-planted red wine grape in Italy and serves as the main ingredient in Chianti, sangiovese is a really misunderstood piece of fruit. Part of it is the fault of Chianti, actually, since many people think it’s a varietal made of the chianti grapes. Actually, there’s no such thing: Chianti is not a grape but a region in Tuscany, and like many European wines, Chianti takes its name from the place it comes from. And although Chianti does consist mostly of sangiovese, a vast majority of Chiantis are blends, with all sorts of other varieties allowed, some of them (like canaiolo) fairly obscure.

For my tasting group’s complete evaluations, including a winning wine with a Kelly Moore bouquet, click here: (more…)