Wine.Woot : One Week, One Wine (SM)

Bringing secret family shame to light, one spice at a time

Hey, Dad. NO, NO, don’t tell Mom I’m calling. It’s best if she doesn’t know. We need to talk, just you and I.

You know how we get together every Thursday night and have dinner? No, we’re not canceling. We really do look forward to seeing you guys every week. It’s something else. You know how the dog has been getting a little rounder lately? That’s my fault. Well, mine and Carol’s fault, really. We’ve been feeding him under the table a lot and…

Look, I’m just going to come right out and say it, Pop. Mom’s cooking is crap.

WHEW. After over thirty years that felt good to finally get off my chest. Really, really good. Wow.

I know, it sounds a little harsh to say such things about a woman whose meals you’ve been eating for years, but that’s only because you’ve been trained to like it. You need a palate wake-up, Dad.

So next week, we were thinking about bring a little “present” for Mom to maybe help her spice up some of her dishes. It’s a French Salt Trio Collection from SaltWorks, and I think it might help her break out of her cooking shell.

Listen, before you object, these SaltWorks people know spice. They’re on the cutting edge of spices in the gourmet food world, which is why they were ranked #117 in Inc. Magazine’s 500 Fastest-Growing Companies for 2007. They focus solely on the highest quality salts.

Like the Fleur de Sel de Guérande, for instance, a fine finishing salt that puts the exclamation point on many a meal. Young salt crystals skimmed from the salt ponds of France make up this mildly flavored, crisp texture seasoning made specially to nudge kitchen creations from good to great.

Then, there’s the Fumée de Sel, a truly one of a kind experience made from a premium hand-harvested sea salt, then cold smoked with the oak from wine barrels that have been used for years to age fine chardonnay wine. Sprinkled on meats and seafood, its subtle deep smoke flavor brings a unique experience to even the most experienced foodie at the dinner table.

And on the healthy side, there’s the Sel Gris de Guérande. This 100% natural, whole mineral sea salt is stone ground with care and easily replaces regular table salt with something healthier that isn’t stingy with the flavor.

It all comes with this really nice Trio Glass Serving Tray. You know how much Mom likes presentation? She’ll be so eager to show this Salt Trio to her friends that she won’t even realize why we got her the spices in the first place.

Trust us on this, Pop. You don’t have to live in fear anymore. We can all have the flavor we deserve and not send Mom running to her room in tears.

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Some Velvet Morning

Like some forgotten Lee Hazlewood/Nancy Sinatra album, this two pack of wine is a union of flavors you thought would never meet.

Leather and lace. Crimson and clover. The cross and the switchblade. Some things just seem like they’ll never fit each other, but then, as though by magic, do. That’s what we learned from these two very special limited edition Meridian wines. You never know what beautiful surprise might come from an unexpected place.

Located in Paso Robles, halfway between Los Angeles and San Francisco, Meridian has built a reputation producing a quality, yet readily available, entry level wine. Before today, Meridian was just the kind of simple wine you’d be perfectly happy to take from the end cap of your local grocery store. Of course, we can’t sell Meridian short, because those “simple wines” have outperformed brilliantly, winning awards and impressing even Wine Spectator Magazine. Who could have ever expected that from the under ten dollar range?

Well, Lee Miyamura, for one. She’s in charge of producing Meridian wines. Like some small-town matchmaker, Lee Miyamura exercises her craft, finding the flavors that belong together and making sure they meet. After years of working on a mildly looser scale, she decided it was time to showcase her art to the fullest, to let the world see what she and Meridian could do when they gave it their all. We’re sure you’ll agree, in these two limited release wines, Meridian does just that.

Miyamura’s picked the very best fruit, and then picked the very best from that. She’s taken small, controlled batches and focused herself, creating a wine that came in around 500 cases total. For a vineyard that ships 800,000 cases a year, that’s an incredible new scope. And that’s why we’re so pleased to have this wine with us now, and why we’ll miss it when it’s gone for good.

First up, the Syrah, a 2006 limited release. Like a cowboy from the Camatta Hills, this Syrah offers leather and cedar spice in the nose. The concentrated flavors bring out grape and dried black cherries, with a spicy herbal note underneath. It’s spent 17 months in the barrels, and it’s solid. Maybe it’s not some fancy French champagne, but this is a bottle that will be there for you when it counts. It’s just that kind of wine.

The innocent young Sangiovese, though, couldn’t be more different. It’s an angel from 2007, with the aroma of blackberry and cherry. A giggling sip will offer cherry and a touch of vanilla, a gentle mix that captures a childish freedom. This sort of wine, you’d expect, would be for company and music and dancing, not paired off with some sullen Syrah.

And yet, here they are, the cowboy and the lady, him with his dusky fruit flavors and her with her sunny happy taste. Paired off like a square dance, they’ll be do-si-doing right to your wine rack, where they’ll sit side by side in delicious, scandalous bliss. And who cares what people say? This Syrah and this Sangiovese are happy in a Meridian Vineyards Four Pack. Who could ever have expected it? Just Lee Miyamura. She knew they were meant for each other all along.

So don’t be scared. Don’t stay hidden in your comfort zone. Take a chance on this new step forward for Meridian. A four bottle set of two hard-to-find limited edition wines will be something we know you won’t want to miss. Be bold. Take a chance. Don’t let real happiness pass you by.

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It’s A Wine Élu Outbreak

Be Prepa-Red

Every time we turn on the TV, all we hear about is pandemics, financial collapse, and how apparently in 2016 all our favorite tourist attractions are going to get flooded, earthquaked, or tidal waved. (Wait, tidal woven? Whatever.) It’s hard to figure out how to just go about your life when you never know if this is the day you’re going to get an aircraft carrier dropped on you. It turns out you don’t even have to be near the ocean for that to happen; we’ve seen the footage.

What, are we supposed to fill sandbags? Buy Euros? Clean out the Y2K shelter again? Sometime around 2004, it kind of reverted to its original purpose: “Junk room.” It’s all very confusing, especially for us. Because we’re profoundly stupid. Which puts us at a disadvantage.

One thing’s for durned tootin’, though: No way are we going to drink any more crummy wine. Let us eat and drink the good stuff, as someone almost said, for tomorrow we could get squooshed under the USS JOHN F. KENNEDY. From now on, we’re irrigating our guts with St. Supéry’s award-winning Napa Valley Élu, a sophisticated and smooth line of red meritage blends.

Did you know St. Supéry is the Skalli Family winery outside of France? Which is great for us, because that’s our favorite place to hang out, outside of France. Ha! Ha! You got straight-up DISSED, France!

No, for real, though, our new wine-drinking regimen is all St. Supéry wines, and it’s an easy, 1-2-3 program. As in 2001, 2002, 2003. As in those are the Élus we’re getting started on.

The ‘01 pours a stylish glassful, packing loads of cherry, vanilla and the teensiest, weensiest hint of mocha in the aroma. The fruit flavors are bright and lively as a Labrador puppy, but way more pleasant to have in your mouth. It’s almost a shame, because you’d expect this wine to age and develop magnificently over the years, if the end of existence wasn’t almost certain to come first.

The ‘02 Elú boasts the same seamlessness and balance. Based on Cabernet Sauvignon, it’s got that rich, concentrated currant, cherry and raspberry. You’re probably going to be like all: Is that a lingering cinnamon taste in there? And we’ll be like: Uh, yeah. It is. People say you can drink this anytime between now and 2015, but considering the coming apocalypse, we’d err on the early side.

Finally, the ‘03. Boom, right from the start, you get hints of cocoa, blackberries and toasted oak. Underneath that, there’s kirsch and black cherries. Elegant and supple and balanced like an Eastern Bloc gymnast, it sticks the landing with a burst of fruit and tannins.

Yeah, that’s how we’re rolling henceforth. We’re not only buying up the Élu, we’re drinking it post-haste. No more of the low-grade vino with dinner for us. Seriously, how disappointed are you going to be when you see that curtain of hellfire descending across the land, and you’ve got a cellar full of excellent wines but a belly full of the cheap stuff? That’s just wasteful, is what that is.

Face it, we’re toe to toe with the apocalypse here, dawg. Changes your priorities, don’t it?

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Brew Up, Stand Up

“Sir, please step out of the vehicle and look in the trunk, here. You mind telling me what’s in all these bags?”

“The ones with the Rasta lions printed on them? That’s just some itally-grown organic coffee from Marley Coffee, the company founded by Bob Marley’s son Rohan Marley and Shane Whittle to continue Bob Marley’s legacy with ethically-grown, great-tasting coffee.”

“Coffee? You sure that’s all?”

“I’d brew you a cup and let you see for yourself, if I hadn’t left my percolator in my other jacket. I wish I could, too, because this Mystic Morning stuff would wake you right up, with rich, medium-to-full bodied flavors of cocoa, spice, cedar, and cinnamon. Or maybe you’d rather have the sultry, smoky-”

“Smoky, you said?”

“Uh, poor word choice given the situation, but yeah. I just meant, the Jammin Java has a smooth, sweet, earthy, and yes, smoky character with a lingering finish. There’s also One Love, a bright, floral-tinged Ethiopian Yirgacheffe with notes of blueberry, cocoa, and spice. When I really need a pick-me-up, I go for the Lively Up Espresso’s five-bean punch of dynamically dense espresso flavor, with hints of cocoa, candied fruit, and buttery caramel. But when it’s time to mellow out, it’s all about the Simmer Down Decaf, a mild but spicy medium roast.”

“OK, OK, I get the idea. You’re trying to tell me all you have in those bags is coffee. Right. But when I pulled you over, you were listening to reggae. And everybody knows-”

“Oh, you mean Family Time, the Ziggy Marley album-”

“That’s the one.”

”-for kids?”

“Oh, uh, it’s for kids?”

“Yeah, it’s my two-year-old’s favorite, and I guess she got me hooked. Its 12 tracks feature Ziggy and an all-star cast assembled by producer Don Was. The likes of Paul Simon, Jack Johnson, Toots Hibbert, Elizabeth Mitchell, and Willie Nelson join Ziggy for a laid-back Jamaican-flavored session inspired by Ziggy’s own kids, Judah and Gideon. Is that the one you mean?”

“I guess so. Hmmm. Looks like you’re right, there’s nothing in these bags but coffee.”

“Of course. What did you think you’d find?”

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And We Don’t Eat Tin Cans, Either

Hi, everybody. I’m a goat. And I’m here to plead for an end to the unkind and sometimes vicious stereotypes that you hold about my peop- uh, I mean, my fellow goats.

I just don’t see what we ever did to provoke this abuse. We chew our cud and pay our taxes like any other barnyard animal. But when you need some unholy beast to embody Satan, suddenly it’s our hooves trampling the souls of the damned. We goats certainly don’t have a barnyard monopoly on pungent aromatics, but you never hear somebody described as “stinking like a horse.” When some ballplayer drops a pop fly and costs his team the game, he’s the goat – despite the fact that no goat I know has ever dropped a pop fly. Even Latina pop sensation Shakira gets in on the goat-bashing, claiming self-deprecatingly that when she was a teenager, she had a voice like a goat.

That’s low. I happen to think our singing voices are just fine.

But I’m not here just to tell you that goats are better than you give us credit for. I’m here to show you. I ask you, could any animal responsible for the transcendent delights of this Cypress Grove Fresh Chevre 6-Pack possibly deserve such slurs? These 3” rounds of farm-fresh goat cheese are all the evidence you’ll ever need to change how you see your furry, bearded fellow Earthlings.

Surrender to the creamy tang of the Cypress Grove Natural Chevre. Let your tastebuds come to life with the spark of the Herbs de Provence in the Cypress Grove Herb Chevre, or the cracked pepper in the Pepper Chevre. Explore new pastures of flavor with the Dill Chevre. Twist your tongue with the diabolically named Chive Chevre – then let the sublime flavor twist it back. See, this is what goats are capable of when we’re treated right, the way Cypress Grove cheesemaker Mary Keehn knows how. Just turn us loose on that lush Humboldt grass (no, not that kind) and let the enzymes do the rest.

With the Cypress Grove Fresh Chevre 6-Pack as our ambassador, goats can look forward to a new era of tolerance and respect, where goats can take their rightful place in the brotherhood of mammals, a kingdom of mutual understanding that includes all God’s creatures.

Except sheep, of course. What a bunch of idiots.

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Cab Syrah Syrah

Lonely little Amavi 2007 Cabernet, don’t be intimidated by those two 2006 Syrahs.

I know, it can be scary being the odd wine out. You don’t get any of their inside jokes, you weren’t around for any of their back-in-the-vineyard stories, and you’re all too aware of the differences between you. They’re subtly earthy with aromas of violets; your nose leans more toward blackberries, dusty rose petals, and hints of cedar. Their mixed berry and cream of cassis flavors show a touch of minerality, while yours mingle dark fruits, wild berries, and hints of herb and spice. They’re even a year older, so they’ve been around long enough to score 90 from Wine Spectator while you haven’t even been reviewed yet.

But when you’re feeling left out, just remember everything you have in common. You’re all produced by Amavi Winery, the Walla Walla outfit dubbed a Top 100 Winery by Wine & Spirits and “clearly one of Walla Walla’s value superstars” by influential critic Paul Gregutt. Amavi’s estate-vineyard reds have been consistently praised for complexity far beyond anything in their price range. All three of you display the uncommon balance and intensity characteristic of the superlative 2006 and 2007 growing seasons in the Walla Walla Valley. And like the wines made by Amavi’s sister winery Pepper Bridge, you’re all pretty much sure-fire hits with the Wine.Woot audience.

So there’s no reason to feel timid about making friends with the Amavi Syrah twins. Just go on up to them and make conversation and you’ll be surprised how much you have in common. In no time, it’ll feel like you guys belong together in a bundle on an Internet wine store or something.

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Tri It, You’ll Like It

Yo, how you livin’? Cause if the answer is “large”, we got you the hook up right here.

Yeah, roll them eyes, grammarians, because we ain’t gonna stop you. Over here, you can wine all you like. Get it? That’s right, you english majors love puns as much as you hate non-Chaucerian slang. Whatevs. Anyway, check it, we got a three-teet today. Three Michael David Petite Sirahs.

First up: The 2007 Petite Petit. Petite means little, but this wine is large. It’s opaque dark purple with an inviting violet and plum-like bouquet, silky and smooth on the palate. And it’s the jam. Black current jam, to be precise, droppin’ little blackberry bombs with a few vanilla samples in the bassline.

Then there’s the 2005 Earthquake Syrah to shake things up. This reserve level wine has major concentration and over 15% alcohol with bold tannins. Your nasalmograph will register the initial shock of pure red fruit and dark baker’s cocoa, followed by the aftershock of espresso, chocolate covered cherries, spiced cedar and an intimidating amount of black raspberry. Hints of vanilla and plum will finish off your palate like a one two punch.

Finally, like a gentle breeze, the 2007 Windmill Petite Sirah will sooth away your taste tensions. The super-ripe blackberry and brown sugar share a touch of oak and spice that have you off the hook. Pick a hook, any hook, and after a sip of this you won’t be on it. The rich Lodi sun and cool San Francisco breezes make for a great Petite Sirah you’ll love to taste.

Right here, see, is some wine that covers all the bases. It comes hard and strong and leaves soft as a kitten. If you want a three pack that’ll take care of all your needs, you’re wanting this Michael David Petite Sirah Trio. Can you dig it, Horatio?

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Where’s A Cab When You Need One?

You never know what you’re going to get when you’re travelling.

Maybe you’ll be with blackberries, meeting Asian spice, mineral, coffee bean and floral aromas with a hint of pencil lead, pain grille and earthy notes. Maybe you’ll hear stories about a challenging year, just after a frost, that turned out to be intense and beautifully balanced. That’s what you’d get if you went by cab, which is to say, the 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon. Critically acclaimed, this Cab scored 93 points from Wine Enthusiast (and it was an Editor’s Choice!) plus a Three Star excellent rating from the San Francisco Chronicle. Oh, yeah, also 93 points from Wine & Spirits, 93 pointS from The Tasting Panel, 90 points from the Wine Advocate… need we go on? This particular 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon is definitely on the high road.

But what if you took the low road? The mere low road? By which we mean the 2006 Merlot. Hey, don’t look at us that way. We had an extended metaphor to finish and there’s no wine named “train” or “boat”. A traveler on this road would be alongside luscious ripe currants, black cherries and Italian plums. There’d be hints of Asian spices and floral notes mixed with chocolate mousse, nutmeg, cinnamon and earth scents. The trip would be smooth and refined, full of stories about a classic wine-growing season with great natural acidity. It’s too new for the critics, but we’re hoping you’ll find it just as exciting a ride as the Cabernet.

And that’s why the 2005 Cabernet Sauvignon and the 2006 Merlot combine so well in the journey that is the Pepper Bridge Winery Two Pack. In these bottles, winemaker Jean-François Pellet brings us two fantastic blends that will transport your palate to a very pleasing place. The flavors will go well with your first autumn party, or your special dinner for two, or your well-deserved peaceful evening at home.

The Pepper Bridge Winery Two Pack is the end of a journey that some very special fruit began once upon a time. We think you’ll be pleased, even when they make you watch the slides.

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It Takes Tudor Make a Thing Go Right

Not quaffed for international renown / Just to wash the steak au poivre down

I ain’t what you might call “high-class.” I didn’t go to the right schools. I don’t hobnob with the cultural elites. I don’t dress in the finest clothes, or vacation in exclusive retreats, or go through more than a bar and a half of soap in a year.

So maybe I don’t fit in at the ballet. Maybe I’m a little too loud for the country club. Maybe the only time anyone uses the term “upper crust” in a conversation about me, it’s an uncomplimentary reference to the infrequency with which I launder my shirts.

Still, ain’t I a man? Ain’t I got taste buds? Don’t this schnozz take in a wine’s bouquet? Can’t my palate discriminate? You bet your dimpled booty I am, I do, it does and it can.

Fate made me who I am, though, and filled my pockets more with grit and lint than fat wads of green. So I have to keep an eye out for opportunities to appreciate those few finer things that’re within my reach. Economically, I mean. (And also physically, as I sustained a philanderin’ injury in my youth that left me unable to lift my arms above my head ever since.) My low-cash-flow situation have made me a connoisseur of life’s lower-cost delights. I know when the discount days are at the local museums, what hillsides offer a free view of the drive-in movie screen, and which rest stop men’s rooms are best-stocked with T.P.

But the most special treat for me is also the rarest: Seein’ a fair price on a top shelf Pinot Noir. As long as it’s not literally on the top shelf, or I need someone to help me get it down.

Ah, Tudor Winery! Steeped in tradition! Winner of awards and accolades! I love your Santa Lucia Highlands Pinot Noir, harvested from the new clone Tondré Vineyards and the thirty-six-year-old Pinot vines at Paraiso! It gives off aromas of orange peel! Of loamy earth, dried berry and currant!

And I love your ‘06 Anderson Valley Pinot, which, alone at my dinner table, I call “Andy!” Andy’s somewhat higher in acidity and not quite so forward, like I like my women! Andy’s the shizzle, fo rizzle! In fact, there’s only one drawback to a Tudor Pinot that I can think of: It’s a little less roomy than the Fordor version. Ha! Ha! Just kidding.

Anywho, it’s not every day a couple wines of this quality drift by me in the drainage ditch of life. When it happens, I grab them fast, like a cobra would. Or like a cobra would if it had hands. And liked wine. Man, when I think of what rich men sometimes pay for lesser wines than these, it makes me want to laugh, loud and hearty at the capriciousness of circumstance!

And then to burglarize their homes.

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I have become Carver, Destroyer of Gourds

I light a candle in each one for you, father.

Every Halloween, it’s the same. I wait for the black of night to fall. I make my way to the Old Hinklin pumpkin patch just outside of town. Once inside the fences, I look out over the field, admiring the crop.

It is then that I reveal the 8-piece Künstler Cutlery Knife Set by Connoisseur inside my bag. One by one, I remove each of the blades from the sturdy wooden display block, admiring their fine stainless steel and full-tang construction that not only offer me confidence, but comfort for the awful task at hand.

And then my dark work begins.

The pulp and the seeds scatter and splatter. The ease at which the flesh of each pumpkin separates under the edge of my steely friends causes a toothy grin to crawl across my face. And as I carve and slice my way through the madness, I think of my father, killed by that truck of pumpkins so many years ago. That horrible horn, the squishity-squish-squish of his awful murder under the rhines of the Orange Menace, they haunt me still. Only this yearly squash-icide can halt that horrid scene from playing in the theater of my mind night after night.

It ends when every last gourd in the field has felt my wrath. There, among the muck and the slime of the patch, I sit among the carved pumpkins, all glaring at me with the face of my dead father, tears streaming down my pulp-stained cheeks. I then gather my tools, whose Bakelite handles will make clean-up the easiest task of the night, and return home, satiated for another year.

Now, we are at the end of another October. The horrible yearning for pumpkiny death begins anew. I hope you can hear the screams of the Cucurbita, father, and that they please you as much as I.

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