Next P&P tasting: Wines of Argentina

At the suggestion of several tasting participants, our next event will explore the wines of a country whose wines represent not only tremendous value but a new world spin on old world grapes. Join us for the Wines of Argentina at the Pen & Pencil Club of Philadelphia on the 26th of June at 7:30 p.m.

Cost is $30 and includes appetizers. (A dinner menu will be available afterwards.) Sign up at the bar or leave a message at the club. Hope to see you there!

A favorites tasting

We did something a little unusual at the Pen & Pencil Club 3 May when I presented a tasting of favorites to a private group. (I should note that I stand available and ready for private wine events, tastings, consultations, and the like: contact me at the email address here on the blog.)

The same format as usual, four wines, food to match. But there wasn’t a theme other than wines I like and want to tell others about. The group had a great time and fun was had by all.

We did two whites, a sparkler and a red. Tasting notes follow:

2006 Touraine Sauvignon La Potine Domaine Ricard
Never in any tasting will I ever have a better match of wine and cheese. This Sauvignon is Blanc, of course, from the middle Loire near the town of Cher, along the “steep, calcereous” slopes (to quote the Moore Bros. tasting notes). The goat cheese we served was Selles-sur-Cher, made, you guessed it, near the town of Cher. Who knows, maybe the goats nibbled the vineyard leaves, for the match of the cheese, ashy and stiff at first, then creamy and smooth in the mouth, with the tart, quince-y, aromatic, almost exotic, wine was heaven. It will not ever get better than this as a match. The wine was fruity, massive aromatic on the nose, spicy fruit, and, yes, the ‘cat’s pee’ Sauvignon Blanc aroma, grapefruity, lovely acidity but in balance, gooseberries and quinces, tart, delightful, refreshing, served maybe a hair too cold but warmed nicely, soft, mouthfilling finish. Organic, low-yield vineyards. Slam-dunk summer wine. Good with shrimp, poultry, sausages, bean casserole, salmon, oysters (oh yeah), Cornish hens, but most of all good with that goat cheese. These days, $12 for a wine like this from France is an absolute steal. The crowd liked it a lot. Now-2010. **** (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

2007 O Fournier “Urban Eco” Torrontes
Speaking of exotic, I have been wanting to serve this white from Argentina’s Cafayete Valley in the northwestern province of Salta for a while; here came a good chance. Torrontes is the premier native white grape in Argentina, and if I am only an occasional fan of the country’s rather too aggressive and obvious Malbecs, I do like this grape. Under a screwcap. Not too pale, golden-ish, exotically spicy on the nose, then tons of fruit, soft, gentle, like a tropical Riesling, a hint of sweet, not a whole lot of body but enough acidity. No food served with this one, but would be good with spicy shrimp, well-flavored fish, pork, chicken. Or by itself. Alcohol there at 13.5 but in no way hot. Pears on the long finish. Intriguing wine, wonder what the $25 bottles taste like? This was a bargain at $8 but the crowd was less enthusiastic. Well, it is surely different. Good nominee for the ABC – Anything but Chardonnay – Club. Drink now. *** (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

2004 St. Hilaire Blanquette de Limoux Extra Dry
Down in the western Languedoc, near the walled city of Carcassonne, they say this is the oldest sparkling wine in the world and they say they have been making it for 450 years, since monks first made it in the 17th century and nyah-nyah you Champenois! The Champagne people have had the last laugh, given how rich they are, but down in Limoux they still make this lovely gem of a sparkler. Despite the name, the St. Hilaire ‘Brut’ is even drier and to my mind a little sharp. This, the somewhat less sharp version, is to me better balanced and surely better with food (they also make a semi-sweet that is rarely seen; that is a dandy brunch wine). Unlike Champagne, this is made with strictly white grapes (Chardonnay, Chenin Blanc and the local Mauzac, which can be fiery). Always a classic nose and lovely light golden color, florid mousse, fizzy but not too much so, bready/appley on the palate, vigorous,
refreshing, not bone dry, hint of citrus, a nice contrast to the sweet crabmeat and shrimp cup we served. Excellent value at $11 and it’s cheaper outside of Pennsylvania. Crowd enjoyed it. This could age. Now-2012. ***1/2 (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

2005 Chateau Thomas-Laurent Bordeaux
A challenge, because I snapped this one up salivating at the vintage – 2005 may have been the best in Bordeaux since 1982 – and it was going for $11. Now, I was not expecting Latour or Lafite-Rothschild or Petrus at that price, but I was also not expecting that my usual extensive research would turn up absolutely nothing about the wine, other than that the chateau does exist in the hills above Blaye on the right bank of the Gironde. No information on the terroir, cepage, anything. An e-mail in my awful French went unanswered. So, here it was. The basic Bordeaux, I guess, in its standard form – 12 percent alcohol, nicely deep and dark, the kind of everyday wine the Bordelais have been making for centuries and have had trouble selling lately. This kind of Bordeaux is more typical of what is made there than the Grand Crus. Anyway, very thin and disappointing on first taste, but let it in the glass for 30 minutes, or decant, and the magic of Bordeaux appears: plummy, cassis, some leathery aroma. Fruit, a tad thin, on the palate, soft mouthfeel, I am guessing a 50/50 Cabernet Sauvignon/Merlot cepage at this point. More air brings out more cassis and leather, and cigar box, cherry, earth on the finish. Maybe some Cabernet Franc here, could have a jolt of Petit Verdot flavor. Nice if not profound, a good quaff, good food wine; the match we had, with pork or chicken stew, was not ideal but the kitchen’s requirements made most other choices impractical. Would be terrific with red meat, esp. with an assertive sauce. Also fine with less grand meat, such as meatloaf. I’d be fascinated with how this would age. Crowd liked it, but not as much as the Sauv Blanc or the sparkler. Now-2013? *** (at the Pen & Pencil Club, Philadelphia, 5/2008).

Wine and dining outdoors at home

After my most recent post, I should quickly say that I find dining outdoors when at home much more sensible (except when it’s too darn hot).

Grill up some burgers or steaks, open up the Cotes-du-Rhone and, ah, bliss on the back deck, surrounded by trees, plants and the open sky.

The same tips as above still apply, especially about the temperature. If you are going to be dining outside a lot in the summer, invest in ice buckets and those ceramic or plastic ice-less coolers. Use small glasses and/or small pours so the wine does not get too hot.

To my mind, the best all-purpose summer wines to keep at home are roses from the south of France. Throw in some Loire whites (Muscadet or Sauvignon Blanc), some Provence and Rhone reds and a basic sparkler (Blanquette de Limoux, prosecco, cava) and your basic summer cellar is all set.

The silly season: dining outdoors and wine

I was walking to the train station the other day up Quince Street and I noticed the return of outdoor tables to local establishments as the weather has taken a decisive turn for the warmer. OK, that’s nice.

I especially noticed one establishment that was offering a row of outdoor tables that ended within 15 feet of its dumpster, quite obviously in olfactory range. And people were sitting there. J’amaze. I guess it was because all the other outdoor tables were taken at this place.

I like sitting outside on a nice day as much as anyone, but not next to a pile of trash.

And then I turn the corner, and I see several places with outdoor tables – these are not ‘sidewalk cafes’ – so close to Walnut Street (a main thoroughfare) that they are well-positioned to take in all the bus and truck exhaust. Wow, yummy!

And it’s not just aromas and gases that pose problems.

Last summer I was in TriBeCa with a friend of mine and we decided to try a newish French place, Le Cercle Rouge. It was a hot night in Manhattan, and while the street outside the restaurant is generally quiet, limiting the exhaust factor, the sidewalk and gutter still offered that dampish, sweetly sickening stench that is city pavement having been roasted by the August sun. Did I mention it was hot, and humid? No breeze. Walking around outside was miserable. Sitting outside in the damp, stinking, smothering broth passing for air in TriBeCa would be miserable, let alone dining while doing so. You’d taste more sweat than sweet. It was hot. Even if the street had smelled like lavender, it was hot.

But the restaurant’s outside tables were jammed; you’d be a overbaked, smelly sardine to boot. Our request to sit inside was met with incomprehension by the hostess, but she decided to indulge us. Inside, it was cool and pleasant and we had a fine, leisurely meal with a lovely bottle of (I think) Sancerre. It would have been grotesquely uncomfortable outside. Yet 90 percent of the customers were there.

I don’t get it.

We have turned sitting outside into a fetish, one that denies pleasure rather than gives it, and surely detracts from the dining or the wine. Can you imagine trying to enjoy a delicate, light wine, like many roses or a Loire white, while being assaulted by SEPTA spewings or eau du Dumpster? Even Bordeaux’s potent aroma will be overwhelmed. Some diesel ash on your pasta, sir?

Most places that have outdoor tables simply do not have enough room between the tables and street to provide separation from car and bus gases (much less the occasional foul-smelling bum wandering by and begging). There are very few genuine sidewalk cafes in American cities, cafes where the tables are far distant from the street (Maison in midtown Manhattan is one that fits the description, though I’d not recommend dining there as the food is lackluster) to ensure dining pleasure. Compare the average place in Philadelphia with outdoor tables to the real thing in Paris, Bruges or Brussels. (I should add that if all you are doing is drinking coffee, or a beer, this is much less an issue.)

Even if a restaurant has a nicely sheltered café, or, even better, a back garden, if it’s too hot, take a pass. Enjoyment will be hard when you’re damp to the skin with sweat.

None of these scenarios is ideal for wine. But since I suspect people will still dine outside even if it’s 95 degrees and a trash truck – “perfume wagon,” stealing a friend’s phrase – is stalled 10 feet away with a diesel fire under its hood, here’s some tips to maximize pleasure from wine while dining outside:

First and foremost, make sure the wine is at the right temperature. If it’s really hot, ask for an ice bucket, even with a red, and let the wine warm in your glass. Those ice-less coolers can be good if the wine is cold enough to start with. Or have the bartender keep your wine where the temperature will be more temperate and have it served by the glass. If your rose or white gets too warm, re-chill it. I cringe at people putting ice cubes in wine but as a last resort, with basic roses or whites, OK.

Second, stay away from subtle wines. Things like a delicate Saar Riesling, a gentle Viognier, a light Savoie, even Champagne such as Taittinger will all be trampled by the competing smells and flavors outside. Go for wines with gusto: big-bodied roses, white such as Cotes du Rhone white, Argentine Torrontes, New Zealand Sauvignon Blancs, Spanish whites, cava, even some Pennsylvania or New York vidal blanc. Reds like Gigondas, Rueda, Portuguese reds, Madiran, California syrah, Uruguyan tannat, South African Pinotage, Beaujolais maybe.

Third, make sure you have the water of your choice on the table and hydrate with that, not the wine.

Fourth, pay special attention to the food, and remember anything delicate will not taste the same amid the smells and such outside. There’s a reason sausages taste so good in the summer.

Making do: when there's no choice

A few Sundays ago I found myself at The Lemon Drop in Avalon, New Jersey (my mother’s house, one block from the Atlantic Ocean) around 8 p.m. on a Sunday night, ready to cook up some chicken thighs with rice and asparagus. I like thighs browned, then poached in red wine, with cloves and rosemary and some garlic, with the extra sauce spooned over the rice.

On hand wine-wise was a bottle of Yellow Tail Shiraz, which somebody must have brought, Lord knows I wouldn’t buy Australia’s alcoholic answer to Pepsi and I am surely not going to let its obvious vanilla flavors ruin my chicken. Hmm, there’s also a bottle of Domaine Ste.-Michelle Brut from Washington State, an unchilled bottle of 2005 Vin de Pays Rose that really should be drunk up, and my vins de garde I keep in Avalon, which are not being touched for this.

Well, off to the Avalon liquor store, Fred's Avalon Liquors, open until 10 on Sundays and blessed with a very good wine selection. I’m thinking a Chinon or Cotes du Rhone … uh-oh. Fred's is closed, staff crisis. And there’s no other store easily accessible.

Back at the house, quandary. The rose would be acceptable to drink but not, I think, to cook in and it's not chilled anyway. I won't touch the Shiraz. That leaves the Washington State sparkler.

It's not ideal. It's not what I wanted. But if I want wine with dinner, and I do, it's the best choice. Besides, I always proselytize for sparkling wine with food, and here's a chance.

So a change of plans on the preparation, now it will be thighs in an olive oil- onion-garlic-vermouth-parsley sauce finished with butter. I always keep dry and sweet vermouth around, and Martini & Rossi dry (other acceptable brands: Noilly Prat, Cinzano, Stock) makes a lovely light sauce.

The chicken came out delightfully flavored and the sauce sparkled with flavor. The wine, well, the tasting note is below; it was refreshing and a decent quaff.

The point here is don't let a non-perfect wine/food match set you back. Take what you have and improvise -- don't deny yourself pleasure because it's not textbook. Wine's more versatile than you might think – it can compliment almost anything. Just be prepared to take another path.

NV Domaine Ste. Michelle (Washington State) Brut
Fabulous, effervescent mousse, positively fizzy, tickles the nose, crisp lemony taste and then … nothing. It goes poof. Disappears on the tongue. Amazingly bland. Not much finish, if at all. No body or structure. Weird. Refreshing enough with my vermouth/onion chicken thighs, the fizz made it enjoyable, but just not much to this. Even in this price range ($10) you can do a lot better. It did make a good base for Kir Royales as a digestif to follow, I must say, with G.E. Massenez’s mouth-puckeringly and lusciously tart Crème de Cassis from Dijon. Give Massenez ****, the wine *1/2.

Throwback in West Philadelphia

Before the Internet, every major city used to have a cluttered, somewhat disorganized store that sold local and international newspapers, intellectual journals, and every kind of magazine. Rewarding browsing was possible for hours.

And before the Smoking Nazis, every major city used to have multiple quality tobacconists, who sold exotic cigarettes, loose tobacco and quality cigars.

Now, sadly, the first kind of shop is almost extinct and the second is dwindling fast (even legendary Nat Sherman’s gave up its primo Manhattan corner location [42nd St./5th Ave.] to move midblock).

But life always seems to move a little slower in Philadelphia, which sometimes means we keep good things here that are gone elsewhere (trolleys, for example).

And out in West Philadelphia, nestled amid the chain stores that infest Penn’s campus, is Avril 50: a survivor in both categories.

The debonair, worldly, sardonic gentleman who is in charge of this properly cluttered little treasure, sells all kinds of newspapers, international and local, every magazine imaginable (including a superb collection of wine journals, justifying my posting about him), and quality tobacco of all sorts. He also carries quality greeting cards, a dizzying array of chocolates and sweets, coffee strong enough to rip your fillings out, and even hookahs you can smoke on his patio.

It’s a classic little shop, and I am guessing the kind of cultured people who read this blog and enjoy life’s finer things will love this place the same way I do. Next time you want a magazine or a cigar, skip the chain store and head out to Sansom St. If you’re already in the area and have a caffeine craving, skip Starbucks and get his coffee. Or, for those newspaper lovers out there, buy The Guardian, sit on his patio with a cigar and a coffee and experience the decadent luxury of opening the paper out to its full size, a wingspan that will leave you breathless in this age of mini-papers. You may see me there, too.

Avril 50, 3406 Sansom St., Philadelphia, 19104; 215-222-6108; avril-fifty@verizon.net. M-F 7:30 a.m.-6 p.m., Sat 10-5.

Napa Valley Cabernets going way of the dinosaurs?

There was an interesting note in The New York Times Magazine two weeks back in its “Green” edition about the impact of climate change in California’s wine country.

The Bordeaux vines that do well in Napa – Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot and Cabernet Franc – do well there because the cool climate keeps them from getting overripe, just as the Bay of Biscay’s influence does so on the Bordeaux vineyards. When these grapes get overripe, alcohol levels soar and so does that jammy, baked taste that horrifies Bordeaux fans. Even fans of massive fruit-bomb reds will often be put off.

Overheating grapes is rare in Napa, because the summer nights are cool. But as the night temperatures rise, even slightly, the vines can’t recover from the heat of the (ever hotter) days. As a wine scholar noted, at that point, Napa starts to look like the Central Valley in California, where most of the state’s “value wine” – ie, the crapola in jugs and boxes – is grown.

That fate is unacceptable for Napa wineries, of course. There are ways to adjust – more shade, raise the vines from the ground, plant vines at differing angles to the sun, and select grapes more carefully so overripe grapes are avoided.

Of course, when all that still doesn’t work and alcohol levels are still unacceptable, there’s the old-fashioned way: dilute the wines. The Times quotes one Napa grower of “elegant Cabernets” thusly: “You use what we call ‘Jesus Units’ because they turn water into wine.” Hmmm …

One grower even suggested that the term “Napa cabernet” may be extinct in the future, as growers move to grapes better used to the heat, such as Syrah, Grenache and Mourvedre.

The Rhone comes to Oakville, Rutherford and St. Helena? Wow.

Trouble in Cognac?

A bit of news from the cognac/fortified wine specialist at Moore Brothers:

Apparently the big Cognac houses, Martell, Hennessy, Courvoisier, etc. are anticipating a massive increase in demand for their products from places such as Russia, China and India. This makes sense, as, in good times and bad, Cognac is a durable luxury good, and bad vintages and the like don’t bother the big houses too much.

So the big houses are buying up independent growers’ lands in the best (“Grande Champagne”) part of the Cognac region, in the Charente province north of Bordeaux. They are offering top dollar and many independents are selling out.

Obviously this could be a major disaster for Cognac fans. The big houses’ top-line products are OK, but their more mass-market brands are riddled with caramel and chemicals and are, really, not true expressions of Cognac’s flavor and heritage.

The small producers, such as Jean Filloux (Moore sells his magnificent creations) and the like, make Cognac that’s the real deal, and will blow you away with its quality and flavor: try some of his $38 Cep d’Or brand vs. Hennessy, say, and the difference will be astonishing. Every time I serve Filloux’s products (his Pineau de Charentes is nectar from God) I make converts.

Let’s just hope the big boys leave room for Filloux and his brethren.