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.

Syrah....why?

Oddly enough...despite all of my ranting and raving about Euro-focused, traditional wines and that overall style..my Americana kicks in now and then I find myself jonesing for some really well made Californian Syrah. Yes, those who know me well are shaking their heads. You gotta be kidding me? Nope- Cali Syrah. Ojai. Copain. Edmunds St John. Really crunchy, chewy, black pepper laced, dirt stuffed, blackberry jammed, old fashioned fruit forward Cali C-Rah...

And it only comes when I'm also absolutely jonesing for some Americana home cooking. Real deal American hamburgers. You know. The burger that's 3 inches high with a tomato slice that's almost 1/2 an inch thick. And red onion- a requirement....or....A fantastic well made Chili. Last night was chili. Well made. No Syrah. A very good house Negroamaro...very chewy, earthy, and crunchy...so I was happy. Still, I wanted a Syrah.

I bring this up as I truly believe that we Americans don't understand Syrah. What do you do with it. The answer is eat it with American food. American Syrah is big and bold. Forward and hugely flavorful. Sounds like our food, no?

So, next time your jonesing for a great burger, chili, Tex-Mex, braised shortribs, BBQ, etc....Go pop a bottle of Syrah from the West Coast. A knew discovery awaits. I guarantee it.

Daydreams of far off European Mountain meals

I totally believe in a direct correlation between a place, its food, and its wine...and the feeling you can get from just thinking about those things together.

For instance, just the other day I was flipping through my iPod and came upon a couple tracks from Pavarotti. It was about 4pm on a Sunday and my mind almost immediately was transported to Tuscany, to fresh pasta with ham and tomato cream sauce...and a beautiful bottle of Chianti...

That said, same goes for the New World as well. Napa makes sense in Napa. It's a grandiose place. The food is perfect, fresh, and almost constructed like every dish was designed to be in a Food and Wine Magazine pictorial. The wines drink the same way. Perfection of fruit is a place that many Napa vintners seem interested in growing. Sometimes...usually in very grandiose places, with grandiose dishes...steakhouses, for example...Napa wines make sense to me.

Right now, for me though...I like the backwoods. Right now it's cold where I live- very cold. My mind often shifts to daydreams of entering a small tavern in Europe just before dark. A hearty stew over noodles in a small service iron kettle. Chunks of warm peasant bread. Mountain cheeses. And a bottle of red wine to match...