Shedding the skin

We are at that point where it's time to lose the grape.

I've been representing the wines from Mosel Wine Merchants for almost a year now and the more I taste through their portfolio the more I'm convinced that what their producers make and what the American public considers as Riesling are two different things. As I've often read regarding Burgundian winemakers- they will say, I don't make Pinot Noir or Chardonnay. I make Pommard of Chassagne, etc... I think the same applies for German wine.

Sure when you taste Riesling the grape has a natural inherent sweetness. It's pretty easy to pick out. But, I ask that you make the anaology of honey. Cheap, factory processed honey tastes, well, like honey. But, go down and see your local farmer making wild honey from clover. It's honey. But, it's not honey. And more importantly, his clover honey and the next farmer's clover honey...they taste nothing alike.

Same with Burgundy. They're all Chardonnay (white) or Pinot Noir (red). Yet, every town tastes different. Every vineyard tastes different. Every producer's take on these towns/vineyards tastes different.

I was reminded of this this past week. I had dinner with a client and grabbed a '96 Lingfelder (I forget town/vineyard), and then last night had an '05 Clemens Busch Pundericher Marienburg Spatlese Fahrlay. Both gold. Both smelled of honey and petrol. Minerals and delicious baked golden apple. I'm actually writing this and thinking that this could easily be the tasting note for an older Chassagne from Boillot. See what I mean? Yes, the Germans we're both sweet, but it was really a slight vapor at their age. They weren't defined by their sweetness anymore.

So in essence, I propose that you start not calling top German wines Riesling anymore as it's really not indicative of what they taste like. Call them by their town and vineyard. In Busch's case: Pundericher Marienberg. Maybe you might be thinking- what are some of the great vineyards in the Mosel? Erdener Treppchen, Erdener Pralat, Urziger Wurzgarten, Zeltinger Sonnenuhr, Wehlener Sonnenuhr, Graacher Domprobst, Graacher Himmelreich, Bernkasteler Doctor, Brauneberger Juffer, Piesporter Goldtropfchen...

And Unlike Burgundy and France overall, where the food is so regional and down right fantastic, Germany has not exported much of it's culinary culture. Sure, we all know the cabbage and sausage route, but a little google-work and you immediately discover that Germany is second only to France in Michelin 3 star restaurants. And a little more work after that shows that there really isn't a whole lot of difference between the great culinary foundations of Alsace and Burgundy for the Mosel and the rest of German wine growing regions. There's a hearty reliance on root vegetables- leeks, potatoes, onions, carrots...foundations of stock and butter...and proteins of fresh water fish, chicken and beef. German chefs and food writers...it's time for an exploration and exportation of this 1,000 yr old, highly developed food culture!

And then I think it's time to speak about the elepant in the room. Why not? I was selling the Mosel Wine Merchants portfolio with Dan Melia (MWM's export director) one day when a client brought up World War II and the stigma attached to all things German. I can relate a bit. I lost my grandfather in France- post D Day. But, I'm also 1/3 German by ancestry. More importantly...most importantly...is the concept of the farmer. The producers who are making these wines are very small farmers. Same as in the Loire, Burgundy growers, the Rhone, Barolo, Spain, Portugal, etc...They are attached and identify passionately with one thing: their land and the produce they farm. I have met with all of the MWM producers and they are as genuine, as humorous, as good natured as any of the French paysan vigneron. In many cases they are much more humble than many small production winemakers from other parts of the world. So, I ask you kindly to enter their wine and food with an open mind. After all, let me share a story...

In the late Spring of 2003 I went over to do a stage in Bordeaux. I was very excited. And I am who I am: a small town guy from Connecticut, who at that time was living in Hoboken NJ with his new wife selling wine to restaurants in New York City. Our country had just invaded Iraq. But, that had nothing to do with me. President Bush had nothing to do with me. The military had nothing to do with me. And American foreign policy had nothing to do with me. Even now, as I'm very happy to have voted for Obama...his work and the changes coming from his staff, they all have nothing to do with me. I'm affected by them- like the rest of the world- but I might as well be a small ant as far as my ability and want to be involved in implementing them. Yet, in going over to France in the Summer of 2003 I was socially held accountable in many social circles for the actions of Bush and my country's leadership. Little old me! I was just there to make wine and eat food? And I'd like to say that by the end of my trip I DID personally change a lot of country Frenchman's minds about who an American was and what an American thought.

So, you see my story and it's relation to the German paysan-vigneron. All they've ever had were their vineyards and their wine. All they've ever cared about were their vineyards and their wine. Toss out the elephant. Focus on the plate and glass.

Cobb

Spring is here. Thank God!

This past Winter has been one of the most extraordinary I have ever seen. My wife and I recently remarked that we are living amongst legendary history in our country, and in the world as well. Fear has been dominate in our society. And the cold of Winter has emotionally fueled that fear on a day to day basis. But, with the thawing of Spring everything changes...

In with that in mind I think this Spring will be one of the most poignant in quite sometime. Already, I feel the temperature increasing. I'm aware of the sunlight at 7pm. I found huge excitement in using the outdoor grill for the first time the other night. And I find myself very excited for "Spring"dishes.

Oddly maybe, I found myself jonesing for a really well-made Cobb Salad and a fantastic glass of California Chardonnay.

Those that know me well are probably thinking that I might be on drugs or something, but no, I'm actually genuinely excited for this pairing. White Burgundy? Nope, that won't do- not powerful enough. And so , I've done a little homework on the perfect Cobb Salad and here it is below...My perfect pairing? No brainer...Varner Chardonnay Amphitheater Block 2004 if it can be found....aka- New World Chassagne Boudriotte. If not, I'll take a glass of Walter Hansel Chardonnay North Slope 2006.

Cobb Salad (based on the original recipe from the LA restaurant Brown Derby, created in 1937):

Ingredients:

Boston Lettuce
Chicory
Romaine
Watercress
sliced tomatoes
Homemade bacon bits
sliced sauteed chicken breast
sliced hard boiled eggs
sliced avocado
crumbled maytag blue cheese
finely chopped chives
dressing

Dressing:

In bowl add, small dollop of Dijon mustard, small amount of finely chopped garlic, shot of Worcestershire, sea salt, freshly ground pepper, little bit of freshly squeezed lemon juice, solid amount of red wine vinegar, and maybe a teaspoon of sugar. Whisk until blended. Let stand for a couple of minutes. Then slowly add in a little bit of vegtable oil (1/2 cup) while heavilt whisking. Add in a little bit of olive oil while heavily whicking. Whick in water if need for consistency.

Compose salad on plate. Top with dressing. And serve.

Winter can be white...

I would love to ask...why does Alsace not get any love?

You know Alsace- that little strip of land between France and Germany that's been the starting point for countless wars between those two countries over the course of history. And by the way, they also make drop dead wines. Certainly Zind-Humbrecht's stuff is mind blowing, but what about Keuntz-Bas, Dirler, Boxler, and even the large house, Trimbach. And Deiss..how could I forget Deiss. There are so many great artists up there and so many I am simply forgetting to mention.

Alsace is on my mind because I came home last night and had a glass of Grenache with pizza. It was a long day- a salesman's sort of day (250+ miles on the car), and well, I found that I really wasn't satisfied. My mind/soul was searching for something Wintery...but something different than the usual blow down your door red wine.

I wanted aromatics. I wanted acid. I actually didn't want tannins and red wine, but not Burgundy, not chenin. Alsace man.

Think about it. Their cusine is wrapped around bacon, vinegar, root vegetables, and pork. And how many great chefs have come from Alsace- let's start with my man Jean-Georges for starters...

Anyway, show Alsace some love next time you're in a shop or at a restaurant. If you're on a budget, then you will very pleasantly surprised...Excellent Alsace Pinot Blanc / Pinot Gris can be had for $15bt in a shop and/or $35-$40bt on a wine list. And if you plop down another $5 (basically pass on your daily Starbucks concoction) then you can pony up for Zind Humbrecht Rielsing or Pinot Gris for $21-$23bt ($55bt there-on-abouts on a list).

Open your minds friends. Winter can be white...and taste better, cheaper.

The Onion Correction...?

Times are tough and it brings you home.

I had the most wonderfull conversation with a seasoned chef in January. We talked about the difficulties of the restaurant business- the lack of customers, even regulars being irregular. And I remarked to him that in these times the true chefs come through. It hasn't about how well one can work with fois gras and truffles, it's about what can you do with an onion, with eggs, with root vegetables.

As the winter descends upon me and things become grim I find myself wondering two things:

1. When is what I know as normalcy going to return?

2. Is this really an opportunity?

Is it? Is this the period in my generation where life will make us re-learn how to live around the table. Where maybe this Summer gardening might be a little more important than just a fun hobbie...Where maybe it might be a good idea to start visiting the local farmer to take him up on those placard signs reading, "Farm Fresh Eggs"?

I think it is. Tonight is Thursday, the 5th. Saturday the 7th is my birthday. And I'm going to be cooking for my wife and son on my birthday because that's what I like to do. I found myself looking at two cookbooks for inspiration tonight. The French Laundry Cookbook, and an old book from my wife's grandfather, Pierre Franey. I respect everything that is the Laundry. The pursuit of perfection...how can you not? It is art, really, at that level. And in good times I'd probably try my hand at a couple recipes...maybe pop some high end Burgundy.

But I'm back to my old friend. Eggs. Onions. Root vegetables. Slow cooking. Reductions...Simple cooking...Good thing I know is that even the great restaurants, the haute cusine...it all started with these ingredients as well!

Maybe in the end this recession is more than a financial correction. A cultural correction? A return to a simpler and better time?

The real deal on the whole 2007 So. CDR thing

OK, so I've now tasted half a dozen super star 2007 Cotes du Rhones. 2007 has been widely reported as one of the greatest vintages for that region in quite sometime. Parker, a Southern Rhone fanatic decreed it the best vintage he had tasted in that region in his 30 years- no slouch comment considering he spends a lot of time and effort there.

For me, I went in thinking, "well..the guy does worhsip Chateauneuf du Pape, so he respects the region, the terroir, and its producers...It probably is that good.."

It is that good.

But, some understanding is needed. The best wines are yet to come (they're all still in barrel or tank and should come this Summer). The second best wines- the top Cotes du Rhone Villages (Cairannes, Rasteaus, super second wines from the best Chateauneuf producers) have come. They are dense, compacted and complex. In short, I think most people (myself included) dived into these wines expecting to blown away by a voluptuous and over-the-topness of fruit. Sorry, that's not the deal here. These wines are so complex and dense that they're not ready. They almost drink black. They are early March buds folks.

It reminds of a producer I represent named Monetpeloso. When the 2006 Montepelosos came in this past Fall (2006 coastal Tuscany- another legendary vintage/region) I pulled a bottle of their Eneo...the entry level Super Tuscan. I remember it being absolutely black- like dark, dense, hard, angular, etc...It opened a little on Day 3!!!!!!! But, that Eneo has started to flower now and the wine is showing it's pedigree.

So, back to the 2007 Southern Rhone. These wines are that good, but they are masterfull flowers that are still in very tight buds. By the way, if just the good Cotes du Rhones are in this state, then expect the Chateaneufs and such to be wrapped liked mummies this Summer. What is drinking wonderfully right now are the entry level house Cotes du Rhones, and economically these wines couldn't come at a better time. I'm talking basic $10-$15 Cotes du Rhones. Buy at will..cause you'll be getting twice your money's worth.

As far as the rest...well, it's great to see a region of producers that's still building wines directly from the vineyard for the cellar- the way great wines ought to be built. So, when they come...and even those $25 Cotes du Rhones Villages that are here now...pick up some bottles and forget about them for a year plus...You will be handsomely rewarded.

Are they graduating?

What an interesting comment I heard from one of my top clients last week...

We started talking about the wine regions most of his clientele were drinking. A couple of years ago I remember him having a huge Marquis Philips, big spoofulated, Shiraz crowd. "What happened to that business?", I asked.

"They've moved to Southern France. The Languedoc. They want village wines from there."

Yes, if 2008 couldn't get more bizarre. But, now that I'm thinking about it this was actually my own path. The first great great wine I ever remember tasting was the 1998 Dead Arm Shiraz by D'Arenberg. Freaking huge ass wine. Walloped me over the forehead and I loved it for that. I remember staying in Australia for quite some time continuing to love the fruit bombs and the 'smoothness' of the wines.

Then I remember tasting a Faugeres. Then a Fitou. A Corbieres. There was a similar darkness in the wines. A raisination. Prunes. They had all of that over the top fruit, but it just wasn't fake. It was natural...like a child discovering that candy is too much, but dried fruit can deliver a similar sweetness, but without the nasty back-of-your-mouth sugar thing.

Where did I go from the Languedoc (which I still love)? Well...New World Spain. Than Southern Italy. Than Central Italy. Than Bordeaux. Than Burgundy. Once you're in Burgundy, it's over.

However, you can never truly get to Burgundy directly- you can never really appreciate it by starting there...You have to go all the way through the rest of those... So, maybe there's hope for the masses yet!

2008 Wine of the Year

It's that time right? Wine of the Year time. Writers post their thoughts on the best wines they've tasted that past year and then hoards of people go out and search and buy these same wines with the expectation that they will also have Wine of the Year type experiences. And there in lies a fundamental problem between the current system of wine critiquing and the way great wine is actually experienced.

My Wine of the Year?

'59 Domaine de la Romanee Conti Richebourg Grand Cru....The wine was profound in a deeply emotional way. Tasting notes are simply an insult to it. I was given a glass at my Uncle in Law's bachelor party wine bacchanal and we were all sitting around this large old teak dinner table outside. We were at my uncle's old friend's house which happens to be situated right on a marina. It was about 10:00pm and the temperature was just cold enough to demand a sweatshirt. That night also saw bottles of Raveneau, Niellon, Trapet, Gaunoux...and multiple bottles of Grand Crus. And to raise the bar, we also tasted the 1969 Richebourg as well. But my lasting memory of that '59, and drinking that '59, was 8 guys huddled around this table...an indescribable wine in our glasses...an outside temperature that was just cold enough to have us all cupping our glasses with both hands to keep the fragile wine from getting too cold...and total silence for about 5 minutes...It was if we had all simultaneously gone to wine church.

I'm racking my brain and it's leading me through this journey of additional great wine experiences this past year...Roumier Clos de Bussiere at that same uncle in law's wedding. My first taste of older Clemens Busch at the office. Drinking old Barolo (a bevy of) at the Outpost estate on Howell Mountain. Dining alone and loving it at Bar Boulud while drinking this old crazy Savoie rouge from Rosenthal's portfolio....All lots of fun and very good times...but it was that one moment with the '59 that takes the cake.

And my larger point is...if you were to get that '59 Richebourg and take it home...and drink it...I almost guarantee you won't have the same experience I did. The Table and the experience of the table makes the food...makes the wine. All things need to be excellent, but the magic comes only when all things are excellent and there is that one moment that is shared amongst like minds. There is no critique for that...For me, I went to wine church on a cold Summer's evening over a bottle of '59 in 2008. That worked for me.