Porter’s Wine Blog

Wine Expert goes Wine Shopping

What happens when you send me, your local internet wine expert, out to buy a bottle of wine? Well, I come back with seven bottles* (seven, I’ve found is the maximum a person can carry on the subway and still make it home without his/her arms falling off).

$19 Vino Nobile di Montepulciano  2001 - NO, this is NOT Montepulciano d’Abruzzo… this is a Tuscan wine made with Sangiovese and Caniolo Nero grapes aged in oak for two years that tastes like red fruit covered in brown stuff… what kind of brown stuff? Take your pick… usually it’s mushrooms, cedar, oak, slightly-crumbly-summer-dirt, and wilted flowers. Think of this as more adventurous than wine from Montalcino DOCGs, but also almost never as perfect. That being said.

$17 Alexander Valley California Chardonnay 2006 - Yep, it’s oaky, buttery, tropical, and very very VERY delicious. The winery that I purchased is not at all as cool as its $30/bottle neighbors, but it’s just as good if not better because it has no marketing behind it. In fact, the label is downright ugly. Please, do not use this as a rule of thumb (ok, I know you will, and I do, too!), but there’s a saying I like to say, which is, “The more effort on the label, the less effort on the wine.” The label was so ugly, I actually picked up two bottles having never even tasted this vintage.

$35 Maranges 1er Cru “La Fussiere” Burgundy 2005 - Best vintage ever in Burgundy.** Top notch vineyard. Strong producer (strong enough that I have a bunch of ‘01 and ‘00 tucked away already!). Maranges is a village in Burgundy that produces well above average wines that more often than not get bottled as part of a Bourgogne or Cotes de Beaune Villages blend. Those blends make big money for the producers so when you see someone making a Maranges AOC instead of selling it for cash as part of a big label blend, then you know it’s probably a darn good wine.

$10 Sicilian Insolia/Chardonnay 2006 - Big, yellow and white tropical fruits, white sand, and a bit of banana peel. This one is kind of cheating because I had had it many times before, but had to pay $15 for it since we couldn’t buy in bulk because NO ONE WILL DRINK ANYTHING WITH THE WORD CHARDONNAY ON IT… argh, this is awesome for me though!

* - I bought seven bottles but only wrote about 4 bottles because I try to buy in doubles as much as I can. If it’s good, then you want another one, and if you don’t buy two the first time, then you might never see the wine again.

** - Brian F., my wine tasting role model, is at least 45 years old and whenever I use a superlative adjective when describing a wine, he has this wonderful habit of rolling his eyes and saying “_____ (insert superlative adjective here) FOR A YOUNG GUY.” So, yes, 2005 is the “best vintage ever FOR A YOUNG GUY who has been around for less than 20 harvests.”


Things I Smelled this week…

Paperwhite/Narcisuss/Daffodil Flowers - soft citrus pith and egg shells sort of aroma. A favorite flower of Tennessee Williams that smells so much like Torrontes grapes it is insane. In Tennessee Williams plays it attracts gentlemen callers when the characters are young and deflects them when they are old… much like Torrontes grapes, which are perfect for new wine drinkers b/c of their obviousness and fun and shunned by supposed experts for those exact reasons. This all brings up the question: WHY DO EXPERT HATE FUN?

People wearing too much perfume - it’s like smelling daffodil pollen instead of daffodils, and it’s like having your nose sandpapered with it. It also smells much like poorly made Sauvignon Blanc that is really aromatic (yay citrus) but also ultra-industrial (steel scrap metal soup anyone?).

Green Bananas - Southern Rhone grapes especially Roussane and Grenache Gris smell like green bananas. Also, a little secret you should know if you ever want to work at the wine shop: the only interview question we ask is “Name 3 white grapes of the Rhone Valley.” So far only one person has gotten it right. Feel encouraged to come into the shop tonight and guess who for 10% any bottle of wine if you guess who got it right.


Magnums (1.5L bottles): classy or sad?

I want to go to this guys party!

I want to go to this guy's party!

I’ve purchased seven bottles of wine in the past week… all but one of them have been for cellaring, all but one of them have been doubles (meaning two bottles of the same wine), and all but one of them have been magnums (i.e., 1.5 liter bottles… basically 2 bottles of wine in one container).

Why magnums?

- They last longer: I tend not to drink most of the wine I buy. Wine I purchase for myself really only gets opened for dinner parties where the foodies actually show up, for gifts for friends who have far more income than I do, and for staff education.

- They are way more fun to pour from! The only thing cooler than strumming a power chord on an old electric guitar is saying something witty while pouring a gigantic bottle of Burgundy with one hand (argh, if only I had the witty part down!).

- They are easier to store! Magnums maintain a much steadier temperature than smaller bottles, and since 1/2 of you guys reading this live in nyc apartments with heat controlled by the landlords’ not-so-benevolent use of steam heat, temperature fluctuation is a big deal! Magnums are far less likely to get cooked and shocked by a couple rapid changes in temperature every year than are regular bottles of wine.

Of course you probably want to know, too, the type of wine in the magnums I bought so here it goes:

- 2009 Cotes-du-Rhone that is 100% Syrah: yes, it’s my second least favorite grape, but it’s also big, earthy, and crowd-pleasing so I can pour it for guests.

- 2000 Madiran - Tannat grapes grown to age and pair with burnt steak or salty sausage- two very easy things to cook… and I just have a soft spot in my heart for the y2k vintage… not sure why, but maybe I’ll reveal that in another post.

- 2005 White Burgundy - Oaked chard already ages forever… the addition of a large format means that I’ll be serving this wine to my friends’ kids in twenty years, and it will taste like nuts, copper, and fruit pits.


The Great New World Syrah Showdown 2010

Northern Rhone Syrah Vines

Northern Rhone Syrah Vines

Four Syrahs in seven days…. I tried for seven Syrahs, but new world Syrah (second only to Malbec) is one of my least favorite types of wine so I find four to be both an overwhelming number and an admirable effort. The thing about New World Syrah is that each one seems to be imitating an Old World blue print, but imitating it poorly and without replacing what’s lacking with anything new.

How did the personal challenge turn out? Well, I didn’t get any “I <3 Syrah” tattoos, and I didn’t throw any of the bottles out the window onto the street (as I expected to do) so I’d consider it a smashing success! Here’s the rundown:

Quinta de Viluco Reserva Especial Syrah from the Maipo Valley, Chile 2005: $20… Dark fruit, dark chocolate, and a enormous body. Really, truly fun to taste. Between three people trying it, we finished the bottle, and I bought two more to pour at dinner parties. It was obviously working at being a Crozes-Hermitage, but failing at having any complexity.

The Wolftrap Syrah from the Western Cape of South Africa 2009: $15… Wow, this is ripe! Fruity, fruity, and fruitier, BUT it’s also smoky. Mostly, it’s really burnt apricot pits… and what is this? It has some Viognier (and Mourvedre) in it!? Ah, that explains the smoke even more than the South African heritage.  The Cote-Rotie in the northern Rhone of France is mostly Syrah with often just a little bit of Viognier in it. The name translates roughly as “The Roasted Coast” and the Viognier adds a little hint of citrus so the burnt apricot pits coming through in the Wolftrap make perfect sense in this context. I can’t say the Wolftrap was a good bottle, but I liked it- probably just because of the Viognier’s ability to add some finesse and make the wine fun to taste.  Two people, some quite sarcastic conversation, and most of the bottle finished.

Coriole Vineyard’s Redstone Shiraz from the Mclaren Vale of Australia 2005: $20… This wine was supposed to be a Cornas… again, a Northern Cotes-du-Rhone version of Syrah that has a very jammy, red fruit and spice quality to it. Of course, it’s not a Cornas; it is a quick-finishing Australian.  I didn’t like it, but I think that was mostly because I’m prejudiced against Australia.  It was easy, red, and boring… it actually tasted a lot like the movie Avatar (yes, I know my roommate and I are the only two people in the world who didn’t like it).

Barrister’s Syrah from the Columbia Valley of Washington 2004: $25… Hermitage is the flagship Syrah of the Northern Rhone. It was loved by Russians Tzars. The complete AOC produces fewer bottles than many highly sought after American brands of wine. More importantly, Hermitage tastes like coffee, leather, and chocolate, and it finishes (when aged correctly, i.e., 10+ years… even 50 years if you’re doing it right) like velvet. The Barrister tastes exactly like a Hermitage, but finishes with the finesse of a cup of cold bodega decaf.

The better question is why do I keep doing this to myself?


When I taste wine that I have to write about…

the #1 thing I look for is having it be so very, very varietally/terroir expressive that it makes me feel the same way I felt the first time I really “got” the taste/aroma of a type of wine. Much like Summer Roberts, I started my wine career with a very high academic aptitude, but no intrinsically gifted palate, so a wine needs to evoke a very specific taste and memory to get three stars from me… a few examples:

- Dry Alsatian whites need to smell like petroleum… I learned this while watching the first five minutes of the 3rd episode of The Wire… I hated the first two sips of the wine (SO OILY!) and the first two episodes of the show (NOTHING HAPPENS… it’s like trying to start Anna Karenina in media res at the mushroom picking scene and without the whole “Happy Families are all alike” thing. argh!) When the show came together though, my palate followed suit … the third sip is the charm! Tropical fruit and petroleum is a beautiful flavor marriage!

- Cabernet… no matter where it’s grown… needs to smell like cassis… red or black, ripe or unripe… Cabernet needs to smell like cassis for me. Why? Because, I really “got” Cabernet the first time when I was tasting with Jane (who worked for the James Beard foundation for years and started the most perfect little wine shops in the world) and a rep poured us a Paso Robles Cab that had 0% terroir but was 100% varietally expressive, and she said, “wow, that’s a lot of cassis… at least, it’s obviously Cab.” From then on, I was able to spot a good cab in a blind tasting from a mile away.

- Gevrey-Chambertin must have a distinct aroma of Robitussin… which is probably why I don’t like Gevrey-Chambertin… yes, it’s Pinot Noir, and I love Pinot Noir (not true, I love funky Pinot Noir), but no matter what euphamisms people use for Robitussin (e.g., Juniper Berries, Licorice, Wormswood, etc.) it still smells like Robitussin when it’s done correctly.