Quick wine reviews from the Jersey Shore

I am enjoying an extended stay in Avalon this month, which means I cook almost every night and there's always wine. Here's a quick review of the wines we've had so far.

Gilles Gelin Beaujolais Villages 2010 -- Everybody knows 2009 was perhaps the best Beaujolais vintage of our lifetimes, but 2010 was very close to it. Perhaps less rich fruit and more mineral body, which would be my preference anyway outside of the crus of Julienas and Chiroubles which to me should be about fruit first. This Villages is several cuts above the more commercial Villages, with deep mineral flavors supporting crushed black cherry and herbal flavors. Now to 2016. Served with marinated steaks.

Johann Peter Reinert Wawerner Ritterpfad Riesling Auslese halbtrocken 2011 -- If Donnhoff, based in the Nahe, are now my favorite German winemakers, Reinert, a Saar-based veteran, is right behind. This magic exilir, served with grilled scallops stuffed with basil and garlic, is a candidate for wine of the year. The Auslese means it's full-bodied, with an intense backbone of pure Riesling fruit, but the halbtrocken means it's more or less dry on the palate with a teasing of sweet petrol on the end. Every sip leaves you wanting more. Stunning now, but will last for decades.

2012 Chateau Revelette Coteaux d'Aix en Provence Rose -- 

Perhaps the finest rose being sold right now,  but the price creep to $19 is a bit of a concern. A pale, "onion skin" color with herbal notes of thyme and rosemary. Very refreshing and mouth-puckering, but not quite the equal of the 2011 (see below). Worth the price, but the value isn't what it used to be. Served with sausages. Drink now, or 2014.

NV Pol Roger Champagne -- Served with fireworks on the beach on July 4. My favorite non-vintage Champagne, endlessly rich, lovely mousse, acidity just right and frothy fun to celebrate a birthday!

2011 Chateau Revelette Coteaux d'Aix Provence Rose -- Leftover from last year, these four bottles were blown through at record speed with everything from shrimp remoulade to frankfurters to fish. I have been drinking this wine for several years now and the 2011 is the best vintage ever. Massive amounts of flowers and herbs on the nose, lovely strawberry, honeysuckle and tart raspberry fruit, vibrant acidity, a finish to remember. Drink with whatever you are eating. Could last three years. Won't at my house.

NV Hawk Haven "American Kestrel" White -- From a Cape May County winery. 80 percent chardonnay, 20 percent sauvignon blanc. The Chard is aged in stainless steel and therefore is crisp and clean, peachy; the Sauv is aged in French oak; creamy and complex. A fine blend, though 60/40 may been more to my taste. Serve this deeply cold; it refreshes very well and warns into something a bit more complex. Served with grilled chicken with spicy sauce, and held up vs. the intense sauce. $14 a fair price.

2012 Josef Leitz "Eins Zwei Dry Rheingau Riesling Trocken -- This is one of Germany's efforts to crack the international market for everyday table wine -- simpler label, under a screwcap, priced at $13. Leitz has a winner here. More alcoholic than many German rieslings at 12.5 percent from fully ripened grapes from the glorious south-facing wall of vines that is the Rheingau, it's full-bodied but still racy, the acidity balancing out the fruit. Long, intense finish. Johannes Leitz was named German winemaker of the year in 2011 and I can see why; he is innovative while respecting a family tradition that dates back to 1744. This is a terrific wine to serve to people who think all German Rieslings are sugar bombs. This can age, but will be just fine young and fresh.

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.

Craig LaBan's unfair, inappropriate comparisons

I am a fan of the food writing of The Philadelphia Inquirer's gastronomic critic, Craig LaBan, though that may because I don't own a restaurant. His savage negative reviews are legendary; he carpet-bombed a trendoid haven, Trust, right out of existence a few years ago much to the moans of the smug, overly complacent Philadelphia restaurant community more used to coddling than criticism. (For a recent example of a vicious LaBan pan, see: this.)

For the record, his food criticism that I am informed to comment on seems pretty accurate; if he lacks the generosity of spirit and dry wit of Frank Bruni of the New York Times he can be better on details and zeroes in on faults much more precisely.

LaBan's rather more erratic on the subject of drink; his booze clunkers come often enough so you wish the Inky would hire a wine and spirits critic (fat chance of that, given the economics of journalism these days).

His taste in red wine is, frankly, crass and obvious (fruit bombs away!), though he's much more dependable discussing whites and his work on spirits is admirable.

The latest LaBan wine effort that falls short is this. Besides reading like the winemaker paid him for the story, there's this:

"When we entered the tasting room, I saw his wines posed for a test-sip against two of France's most famous bottles."

Oh boy. Trot out the old beat-up-on-the-French gimmick again. Isn't the more obvious comparison to California wines, given the price point? And the New World origin of the wines? Or maybe to New York State?

"When you want to do something good, you can do it anywhere if you have the passion, dedication and knowledge," Razzi said.

No, you can't. You can't make Bordeaux in Pennsylvania. You can make a good red wine in Pennsylvania, but you can't make Bordeaux. Only the Bordelais can do that.

He then proceeded to pour his 2005 Ameritage, a $55 Bordeaux-style red blend, against a Bordeaux legend, a 1998 Chateau Mouton-Rothschild that runs $253 in Pennsylvania. We sipped his 2005 Chardonnay Reserve ($33.50) against a 2003 Corton-Charlemagne from Laboure-Roi (about $100), one of Burgundy's most storied whites.

Where do we start with the problems here? First, it is utterly unfair to poor Signor Razzi to compare his wine to Mouton-Rothschild, one of the world's greatest and most historic wines! Later in the story other wine experts comment that the red wine matches up with lesser Bordeaux wines. Why not use one of those, taking care to match Mr. Razzi's cepage (nebbiolo?) as much as possible - sounds like Cos-Labory, d'Armilhac, or Gloria might work.

And then the unfairness reverses. To have white Burgundy, at its height perhaps the world's most sublime white wine, represented by the wine chosen is ludicrous. First, 2003 was a notoriously hot summer in France (it was the horrible summer that so many elderly people died of heat-related illnesses) and the wine made that year all over France was fat, flabby, baked, completely atypical. And while certain American critics raved about the vintage, one Bordeaux wine maker noted, "We didn't think it was very good. But then (the American critic) raved, so we knew ..." 2003 was probably the weakest white Burgundy vintage of the 21st century so far.

Then to pick a wine from a Laboure-Roi, one of Burgundy's most pedestrian and dull winemakers, one unlikely to deal too well with 2003's special challenges, compounds the problem.

Corton-Charlemagne is unquestionably one of the great vineyards of the Cote d'Or, but a 2003 C-C from Laboure-Roi is simply not going to be anything like a Grand Cru should be. I'd bet many wines would taste as good.

These kind of missteps make me wary of the judgments that follow:

Remarkably, the Penns Woods wines held their own quite well - even if they did not have quite the resonance or complexity of those French classics. The Ameritage, mostly cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc and merlot (with a splash of nebbiolo), was plush with licorice, cassis and cedar, riper and more balanced than almost any other local red I've tasted. The chardonnay was touched with butterscotch and zesty tangerine, but also braced with a long and flinty, mineral finish. Other Penns Woods wines, such as the lively sauvignon blanc and rich gold pinot grigio, were also impressive.

Rich Pinot Grigio? Well, maybe.

I'd like to try Mr. Razzi's wines, though their pricing, as LaBan notes, is not enticing. (For $50 I can drink good Bordeaux, for $33 Premier Cru Chablis or village Chassagne-Montrachet, Beaune, or Meursault.)

But this kind of wine writing does not help the cause. Comparisons need to be with well-made wines that match the wines being tasted, not just by spending a lot of money on big names. And the comparisons need to be fair.

LaBan would cringe at comparing haute cuisine to a crêperie, but he's made the same kind of mistake here.