$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.”

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.

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.

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?

- 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.

If you don’t work in the wine business though, you should consult a sommelier for your wine order. Yes, I’m sure you know that Barolos are great wines and that 2005 was the “Best year ever” in Bordeaux, but you have NOT tasted most - or even many - of the wines on the wine list on any restaurant. This means that you absolutely should talk to someone who has tasted most of the wines on the wine list; this person is the sommelier.

Sommeliers come with an inherent problem though… they want to give you the perfect wine for your meal, and sometimes they forget that perfection comes with a very high price.

You want to have a fabulous meal, but perhaps not a perfect meal accompanied by a perfect $10,000 bottle of wine. The question is how do you stay in the price range where you feel comfortable while accepting the sommelier’s assistance and looking as cool as a cucumber grown in a Sean Connery era James Bond film?

The answer is in a simple phrase. While speaking to the sommelier, glance over the wine list, point to a price on the wine list where you feel comfortable, and tell him or her in a confident and sexy voice that, “I’d prefer to stay in this region if at all possible.”

You look ultra-classy for “knowing about wine regions,” and the sommelier feels appreciated since you’ve given them license to choose whatever bottle that works in your price range. Wine lovers appreciate a sense of adventure much more than they appreciate a price tag.

Telling a sommelier that you “were thinking about a Bordeaux/Burgundy/Napa/etc.” will only make it look like you frantically googled “wine+italian food” on your blackberry before you came no matter how much you were willing to spend on your bottle.

For $20, you can get a VERY good New Zealand Pinot Noir that’s the equivalent of a $40 run of the mill 1er Cru Burgundy, and for $40 you can get a Pinot Noir that is the equivalent of a $70 bottle of 1er Cru Burgundy. I’m really not sure how or why people aren’t buying up every single bottle of New Zealand Pinot they can find… and just think of how good New Zealand will be when the vines are 40 and 50 years old! Right now many growers are working with vines planted less than 10 years ago.

“But there’s RED MEAT ON THE MENU!” you say? I say in the reply that the reason for the “red with meat and white with fish” rule only works if you’re assuming that the red you’re buying actually tastes like red wine, i.e., has some acidity and tannin (i.e., sharpness, grittiness, or - in the GQ/Vogue vernacular - balls). Of course, most of the red wine consumed in the US has no acidity or tannin.. and most assuredly has far fewer of these qualities than almost any northern Italian Arneis. This makes Arneis a gutsy, old world white wine like Arneis more of a natural choice for red meat than the watery, plum-scented Malbec that most people would automatically go for when presented with a beef dish.

Why are we paying  $10, $12, and $15 for a glass of “pretty good” wine at restaurants all over town, when you can split a bottle of UNBELIEVABLY GOOD wine with a couple friends for the same price at home…Why do people not do this more often? Is it that our apartments are too tiny to fit four people in them? Is it that we just love the 2am train ride home? Is it that we just love ordering waitstaff/bartenders around being served?

The last Chianti I had in a restaurant was $10 for glass, and it tasted like sour cherries and cedar. Mocali’s Brunello though (Brunello is basically Chianti on steroids), tastes like sour cherries, strawberry sherbert, wet cedar, cinnamon, peppercorns, and a stick you caught on fire in a fireplace but just ran under cold water and is still steaming.

Next time when you’re meeting people at a bar suggest that you just pick up a $40 bottle of wine and head to the nearest living room available… you’ll have the same conversation, taste amazing wine together, and save $100.

Other than a few select areas I can’t afford to pop just for “education,” (Condrieu, I’m looking at YOU), New Zealand wines give me more terroir driven notes than any other place… AND it’s small enough overall that I might one day taste every wine made there.

How do you say no to that?

ps. Specifically, their Riesling and Pinot is amazing in the $14 range… Their cab is tops in the $25. Please, don’t buy Sauvignon Blanc from them though… it’s just too awesome to be interesting there right now (oxymoron much?)!