winelogger

Back to Basics

2009-03-18T00:15:00.000-07:00

As I review wines, I think I've been forgetting about some of the great things that inspired me to write about them in the first place. There's the inhibition of imbibiition, for one; the process of discovering wines where they're made; and the myriad relationships man has had with wine over the years.

What I mean to say is that wine breeds great stories. I plan to serve a few of mine soon.

2006 Dashe Dry Creek Zinfandel

2009-03-17T15:42:00.000-07:00

2006 Dashe Dry Creek Zinfandel
About $20

As opposed to the last wine I tried, the 2006 Dashe Zinfandel is the kind of wine I'm looking for when I spend a few extra bucks. Happy disclaimer: I prefer big American zins to subtler French pinots. If a wine goes off in a wrong direction, I'd definitely take big and brash Americans over whimpy and mundane Frenchies.

Please keep in mind I'm talking about mediocre WINES from either region...

Fortunately neither the Dashe Zinfandel nor the Jadot Pinot is too far from what it's supposed to be. But the Dashe finds a way to reach higher heights. Its aroma jumps out at you without being overwhelming, inviting you gently into the glass. Once you take the plunge, the wine starts out tart and gets even more sour. But just when it seems like it's going to be completely pucker-inducing, the sun comes out and warm, sweet flavors take over.

The capacity for a wine's flavor to evolve and take on different notes is really important to me. I guess most people would call it "complexity." It makes drinking wine more than just a passive activity--it makes each sip a little bit of a voyage.

The 2006 Dashe Zinfandel takes you on a nice little trip. Like most Dry Creek zins, it's money that's very well-spent.

Louis Jadot 2006 Pinot Noir Bourgogne

2009-03-16T17:36:00.000-07:00

Louis Jadot 2006 Pinot Noir Bourgogne
$15-$20

When buying wines, there's a general belief that more is more when it comes to a wine's price. Generally, I think that assumption is true but exceptions abound--Louis Ladot's 2006 Pinot Noir is certainly one of them.

Diminishing returns as prices increase are common with wine. A great $100 bottle is never 10 times as good as a great $10 bottle. In fact, the people who decide what it means for a wine to be "good" often contradict popular opinion. For a great discussion of this principle as well as some budget wine picks, this book is worth checking out: The Wine Trials: 100 Everyday Wines Under $15 that Beat $50 to $150 Wines in Brown-Bag Blind Tastings.

Lest I digress, the Louis Jadot is a perfectly drinkable wine. You could bring it to someone's house without feeling embarrassed: the label is impressively French; the wine has a nice (but thin) aroma; it's a light pinot noir that goes down without a hitch. There's absolutely nothing wrong with it. At the same time, there's nothing particularly exciting.

Above $15, I think wine should have something that really draws you into it. Whether it be an aroma that tickles your nose, a velvety texture, or a bit of complexity that keeps you on your toes, there should be something enticing. Louis Jadot is inoffensive but drab.

He goes to the gym every day, reads the paper, and is always on time. He eats a healthy lunch, calls his mother frequently, and shaves. Nice guy, but there's nothing to recommend him. At the entry level, I'd save $5 with a fruit-forward Mark West or go with the complex Cambria that would bring the 20006 Louis Jadot Pinot Noir to its knees.

Peter Lehmann ("of the Barossa") 2005 Shiraz

2009-01-19T18:56:00.000-08:00

Peter Lehmann 2005 Shiraz
Barossa, Australia
$15 (but I found it for $12 at Costco)

I can't quite remember where my three bottles of Peter Lehmann came from. I know I bought them for a party, thinking that a 91 Wine Spectator rating and $12 price tag would be a pretty good way to start the evening. For one reason or another, they didn't get opened. Lucky me. I can't remember what the party was, but I'm glad these bottles are all for me.

The Peter Lehmann shiraz is exactly what I'm looking for in an everyday wine. It's flavor is bold enough that it doesn't get lost under flavorful foods, but it's not so big that you can't enjoy it on its own.

It smells like wine. That may not sound helpful, but in my world wine either smells like wine or it smells like something quite different. Smelling like wine is a good thing--a gateway to being top notch.

It's got a little acidity--but not enough to be fully citrusy--it's got about as much pucker in it as sweetened cranberry juice. And as it sits on your tongue, the flavor slowly evolves, giving it enough lasting power and complexity to get you through the next 30 seconds without needing another sip.

While Peter Lehmann's marketing people describe him as "the master winemeker of Australia's famous Barossa" (THE?? Really>?), and the generic Z Gallerie-esque artwork on the bottle don't do much to reassure the potential buyer that the wine in the bottle will be up to snuff, there's nothing to be disappointed with.

You can't do much better for $12, so thanks for the nice shiraz, Peter Lehmann. You're a swell dude in my book.

Welcome to the wine log, my friends!

2009-01-19T17:41:00.000-08:00

I think it's easiest to describe the way I look at wine by talking about the way I view beer. Makes a lot of sense right?

When I drink a beer I either want to pay as little as possible for something that's potable, or I want to indulge in immaculate Belgian suds. Green-bottled imports have no place in my fridge. Pricey American microbrews that adorn their bottles with cartoon labels to make up for the lack of fun my taste buds will experience are also nothing but empty calories to me.

Give me Natural Light, give me Kasteel, or give me something else to drink.

I suppose the same can be said of my taste in reading materials; I'll take People mag or Pulitzer winners, but little in between.

With clothes, I vacillate between pricey duds and the thrift store.

You see where I'm coming from? With most of my expenditures, I want something that will either do the job as simply and directly as possible or I want something that will be transcendent. But when it comes to wine, I run away from my polemic hi-lo approach. I'm not willing to pay the price for transcendence more than a few times a year--it is just grape juice, after all. And I haven't found many bargain basement options that do the job without committing several human rights violations in the process.

I don't know why it is, but as I learned to appreciate wine, my ability to tolerate bad wine disappeared. It's not something that happens elsewhere in life. I love foie gras, but I'll eat a Dorito any time it's within my reach. Foreign films? C'est magnifique! Sci Fi? Sure, but don't call me a geek!

Wine, however, is a different world. A cheap bottle on a sunny day leaves me with little more than a headache. If you can believe it, I'd rather drink a warm 40 of malt liquor than most wines priced under $5.

On the other end of the spectrum, I find it pretty damn hard justifying $10 a sip for wine that's older than I am. (Well, maybe I'd spend $10 for just one sip just to see what all the hubbub is about--I'm talking to you, Screaming Eagle). Nonetheless, my experience has been that there are some seriously diminishing returns when it comes to canonical wines. Generally, a $10 dollar bottle is appreciably worse than a $30 dollar bottle, but not three times as bad. $30 vs. $300? That's going from fine to sublime most of the time. Or nine to ten (maybe eleven if you're into Spinal Tap).

Point being? There's a lot of value out there, and there are many shades of gray (or, more appropriately, purple). Loving wine shouldn't require a snooty sommelier; it should be something any average beer lover can get into. In plain terms, I'm going to walk you into my world of searching for the best bottles a reasonable amount of money can find. Most of the time, that'll mean spending between $8 and $25 dollars, but I reserve the right to go below and above those limits on occasion.

I don't know what elderberry smells like, and though I'm better acquainted with the flavor of tobacco than I'd like to admit, I'm certain that no wine has ever tasted remotely like it. Thus, I'll abandon wine jargon and try to make things plain for you. Sound like a plan?

More than anything I'm using this to chronicle my own wine journeys--to remind myself of wines I'd like to revisit and those I'd rather not. I hope you'll come along for the ride.

As inspiration, let me offer this up. Anyone who likes to read about wine (but not in a serious, conceited way), will probably dig Matthew Latkiewicz's Stained Teeth. It's definitely one of the reasons I've started my own wine blog.

Bottom line, wine should be fun and we should all be able to afford it. Let's figure it out together!

It'll be, like, totally inspirational.