The Borrowed Penguin Wine Review

Over and Over

It is a very busy time of year. Right now I’ve got about twenty million different things coming at me, and it’s time to make hard decisions (by hard decisions I mean having to say no to things I really want to say yes to). It’s the holiday season and this is the time where business really picks up, and we certainly sell more high-end wine now than any other time of year. It’s tempting to justify buying stuff I personally like because “we’re getting busy.” The hard part is staying disciplined and only bringing in the things that make sense for the store.

So, that’s a very long way of saying I’ve had a hard time deciding on a topic for tonight. It’s the perfect time for a bullet point column, but I’ve done too many of those and I’m sure as I get busier there are more on the horizon. So instead I’m going to talk about…Riesling.

This Saturday I’m not pouring a Riesling at my wine tasting, but from then on I will probably have one open every weekend through the New Year. There are plenty of reasons for this, but I’m saving the best for last. I’m sure over the next two months I’ll annoy a couple of tasters who will want to know why I insist on pouring “one of those sweet wines” every week. They need to get over it.

First, awesome Riesling doesn’t have to be expensive. There are some knockout German Rieslings for under $15. At $25 you can find special wines. It’s a chance to let people taste some outstanding representations of a grape they can actually buy a bottle of.

Next, Riesling is such a broad category. I can do QBA, Kabinett, and Auslese. I can do varying degrees of sweetness. I can go Mosel, Rhinegau, and Pfaltz. In short, I can show something different every weekend.

Perhaps this next point will sound foolish, but so be it. Riesling appeals to a very wide audience. People who are just starting to get into wine can enjoy them because the of the sweetness, and experience wine connoisseurs know they are some of the greatest wines in the world. It’s the time of year where I’ve got the highest customer traffic, and it would be foolish not to play to the widest audience. I’m not pouring generic swill, sweetened alcoholic grape juice that offers nothing but sugar and a buzz. I’m offering up really good stuff that hopefully a variety of people will enjoy.

Finally, and this is probably the biggest reason, but Riesling goes with everything. Spicy chicken? Riesling. Soups and sauces? Riesling. Thanksgiving turkey? Riesling. Holiday ham? Riesling. It is the most versatile food pairing wine you can find. Six people (or more) coming to your place for dinner? I guarantee there is a place for a Riesling.

We’ll see how it all goes over. The reality is I honestly believe these wines should be a slam-dunk week-in and week-out. Whether or not that actually happens, I’m not so sure. If nothing else, I imagine in three weeks I’ll have had enough experiences to motivate me for another entry bemoaning the snobs and fools who say “I don’t drink sweet wine” or even worse, the person who begrudgingly takes one sip and before they even have time to taste the wine makes a horrible face and shakes their head. In the end, I take comfort in the fact that they are the ones missing out.

The Other Down Under

Every wine geek wants to have an area they “discovered.” Something they’re hip to that those around them aren’t. Something they can rattle off details about that others don’t know. Everybody needs to have that special stronghold of their own.

I admit that South Africa has always been an intriguing option for me. It has a wide variety of grapes, a signature style (heavy barnyard and earthiness), and a personal star (the Pinotage grape). There is plenty of history there, and right now there is no shortage of well-financed operations trying to establish serious wines. Unfortunately, I’ve never quite found wines that blew me away. Plenty that were okay, but nothing that really made me say “wow.” I always had felt a bit let down.

Over the past month or so that has started to change. A while back I brought in Leopard’s Leap Chenin Blanc and their Shiraz/Pinotage blend. The wines have done fine in the store, and in particular I think the Chenin Blanc has a place. It is off-dry and at $12-$13 it is an affordable alternative to Vouvray, and personally I think it does a good job of delivering what a Vouvray should: nice richness, a touch of sweetness, and a unique fruit essence. The Shiraz/Pinotage blend isn’t quite as good, but it also serves a great purpose in my store: a way to introduce people to Pinotage.

Pinotage is South Africa’s signature. Hardly a noble grape, Pinotage is the result of a cross between Pinot Noir and Cinsault. It has a powerfully smoky aroma, and certainly is unique. Is it the greatest winemaking grape in the world? No. Is it worth knowing about and having from time-to-time? Absolutely. But it can be a bit strong, and one thing I’ve learned is people are reluctant to try something they don’t know anything about. This wine is a good introduction—think of it as Pinotage with training wheels.

There have been a few Cabernet discoveries as well. Excelsior shows a luscious character you don’t normally find for $10, and Guardian Peak’s Frontier is a great Bordeaux blend. Both wines are cheap, and were the exact type of wine I was hoping to find when I first started exploring South African wines.

So I had at last found the casual, affordable sippers that wine geeks are always searching for. I was happy with the basic wines and I was finally confident that there was a steady stream of respectable wines from South Africa at a really good price. I was happy.

Then, a few weeks ago one of my South African importers was in town tasting through a bunch of things. We had some nice Chenin, and then tasted through a lineup of reds. Some were nice, and some of the wines listed above were part of the group. Then, there were some high-end ($25 a bottle or more) wines. In the past I have had only one upper-tier South African wine that really impressed me: Ernie Els Meritage at around $85 a bottle. It was amazing, but it was on an island. At that price I had always viewed it as an aberration.

But during the tasting we had the Ruid Shultz Syrah from Stellenbosch. I was completely blown away. Rich in color and not just full but well-rounded in flavor: outstanding mouthfeel, dark flavors with spice, earth, and that essential zip of brightness down the middle of the palette that defines upper-tier old-world Syrah. I was completely enthralled with this wine. It was the kind of thing I had been waiting for years to find in South Africa.

Down the road I will have more things to say about the Rudi Schultz Syrah. I do have big plans for this wine. But since then I have been digging into some other South African wines I have at least heard of over the years. A few days ago I had a bottle of Fairview Shiraz. It was nice, but to be perfectly honest it was a bit too fruity for my tastes when you consider the price. But then on Saturday I opened a bottle of Fairvew SMV for my Saturday tasting. It was wonderful (and only around $17).

SMV stands for Shiraz (74%), Mourvedre (24%), and Viognier (2%). Think of it as a homeless man’s Cote-Rotie (it is better than that, but stay with me). The great struggle with South African reds is to get fruit without succumbing to the powerful earthy, barnyard characteristic of the wines. This wine does a great job of balancing all these elements.

I’m not officially re-invigorated when it comes to South African wines, and I hope to say more positive things about them in the future. In the meantime, keep your eye out for the Rudi Schultz (it should be in the $40 neighborhood retail). It’s pricey, but I think when you try it you will find out why.

Getting As Much Out As You Can

Last night I cracked open a bottle of Pinot from a respected producer from a prominent appellation in the Central Coast. It was nice, and I enjoyed it. But at the same time there were too many sips where I picked up a heavy amount of extraction. Not overbearing, but also just enough to make me mumble. It’s Pinot, I should never pick up even a single trace of plum or dried fruit (quick disclaimer: I am a total geek and tend to do the draw-air-through-your-mouth-over-the-wine on almost every sip).

Extraction is a pretty hot topic. It certainly can make for some lovely wines when working with the right grapes. Clio, a mid-range Spanish wine that routinely scores in the mid-to-upper nineties in The Wine Advocate tastes absolutely delicious and is based solely on heavy fruit extraction and massive oak. But more often than not I don’t want massive extraction.

There is also no denying that heavy levels of extraction are becoming more and more prominent. The simple reason for this is only wines with massive levels of extraction stand a chance of getting the highest scores. That is partially the critics’ palettes but also the nature of blind tasting massive quantities of wines. When sixty or so wines are placed in front of you balance, finesse, elegance, and restraint by their very nature will slide into the background when placed next to a wine that is screaming and massive. The best way to make your wine stand out at a tasting is to suck out as much extraction as possible.

Such is life, and the limitations of reviewers. However, I think one of my jobs as a wine retailer is to help expose people to multiple elements of wine, especially the ones they might otherwise miss. It’s easy to enjoy heavy extraction (especially in Cab, Syrah, and Zin), and it is very easy to identify. That doesn’t mean it has to be the only way to enjoy wine.

The wine was enjoyable. I have no complaints about it at all. But if there is one grape that should be protected in our current movement towards more extraction, it should be Pinot. The real allure of Pinot is that each time you sniff the wine there should be enchanting, flowing aromas. With Pinot you should get hints of things and aromas you have to think about, not deep, brooding, heavy aromas. The mystery is the quality that really separates Pinot from all of other grapes.

Moving on, this week Wine Spectator released its annual California Cab review issue. This is probably the most influential issue the magazine releases each year (although the annual Top 100 generates more excitement). Anyway, given my recent entry criticizing the major publications I guess I should acknowledge some of the positives. To put it mildly, reviewer James Laube didn’t just hand out scores. In fact the 95-point or higher scores were pretty much reserved for the huge heavy hitters like Screaming Eagle and Scarecrow. I’m not sold on everything yet, but I this type of scoring keeps up and makes people realize that 87 isn’t a score to be ashamed of but is instead the indication of a pretty damn good wine then I’m all for it. We’ll see if that actually happens (personally I doubt it will, but that is hardly something even Wine Spectator can control now).

Is The Glass Half-Full, Half-Empty, or The Wrong Glass?

I like to think of myself as not being a wine snob. However, I do have to admit that I am a bit of a wine glass snob. Yes, I can get a little picky about the stems I drink from. There, I said it.

So what do I like for a glass? First, it does have to have a stem. No stemless glasses for me. I think those are stupid. Next, is should be clear with no (or at least very little) writing or engraving. Finally, I like them to be big. Beyond that, I am actually pretty flexible.

In a perfect world I love nice crystal, preferably the tissue-thin and light as a feather stuff from Riedel. But I have no problem with Libby glass, which is normally dirt cheap and quite durable. I am a stickler that it be clean, which is why I hate stemless glasses. With a stem you never have to put your fingers on the actual bowl, but with a stemless glass you have to. The difference between a clean and shiny bowl and one that is fogged with fingerprints everywhere is pretty dramatic (at least to me).

Does that affect the taste of the wine? No, but it certainly does affect my experience, so in that way it can impact how much I enjoy a wine. Which brings us to the next point: while I have nothing against regular wine glasses the nice crystal ones just make my experience more enjoyable.

Which brings us to the array of wine glasses that is now available. Riedel, the best-known high-end glass maker, has literally dozens of different shapes of glasses for every type of wine imaginable. Burgundy (white and red), Brunello, Syrah, Bordeaux, Oregon Pinot Noir, Zinfandel, Tempranillo, Sauv Blanc, Rheingau…you name it, Riedel makes a glass specifically for that wine. The question quickly becomes does any of it matter.

I often tell people I have six Riedel Vinum Series Sauvignon Blanc glasses that I use for all purpose white wine glasses and six Riedel Vinum Series Bordeaux glasses I use for all reds. I admit that in a perfect world I would have a couple of different kinds. For example, when drinking particularly aromatic wines, such as white Burgundy or a white Rhone or a great Pinot Noir, I prefer a wide bowl with plenty of surface area and a rim that pulls back in and focuses the aromas. However, I make do just fine.

Now moving on to an entirely different subject, my wife Jen has often told me she doesn’t much care for Rosé. In fact, on more than one occasion she has expressed her disappointment with me for bringing one home or choosing to have a glass of that while out on the patio. It’s just not her thing. Fine.

However, when we were out registering for our wedding she found a set of Riedel Rosé glasses, which are squat tulips with a fairly dramatic outward flair at the very top. She immediately insisted we get a set. At our wedding we received a set of Speigelau (another top producer) Rosé glasses (which is in fact what we ended up registering for).

So tonight, which was my first back at work since the wedding, she called about an hour before I was done and asked me to bring home a bottle of Rosé. It’s late October, Rosé isn’t really something that you age, and I have a decent enough selection at work should I ever need one. I’ve let my cellar inventory run out. So sure enough, I pulled one out and chilled it down.

Now I should make it clear that my bride has a child-like desire to play with all of her new toys, but this certainly appeared to be the most she has ever enjoyed a Rosé. On personal level I feel the need to needle her about her new appreciation of a wine now that she has the “cute” glass to drink it out of. But at the same time it does illustrate that there are all sorts of ways a glass can affect your perception of a wine.

Appologies

Hey everyone (if anyone is still checking in), sorry I’ve been gone for so long. One week from tonight I’m getting married, and in planning and prepping I just haven’t had much free time. I promise that after I am wed I will return to regular updates.