This Should Not be Taken Lightly

Wine is some SERIOUS stuff! Chinon I refer to as, 'fresh off the boat'!

When French Chinon hits U.S. soil, leaves its shipping container, finds its way into your hands, resting at the bottom of your wine glass and is finally greeted by your wiff--you then know--you're no longer in Kansas. One French kiss of this foreigner via a sip and you may just find yourself proposing for French--Chinon citizenship.

If I were a florist from the town of tours, in the region of Touraine, in the AOC of Chinon, interpreting the 100% Cabernet Franc that is Chinon--I'd be creating edible arrangements. A sprig of dill, rods of jalapeno, stalks of asparagus, cucumber and bell pepper. I'd then add to this arrangement 6 cherries, 2 raspberries and 1 blackberry and lace it with limestone powder--sounds delicious right!?

There's a quote that says, "Chinon is not just French, its very French." I've also read, the Loire is said to be where the purist French is spoken--Chinon must have one of the thickest French accents!

My point is Chinon's greatest strength is its individualism. In a world of globalization and in a wine world where so many strive to be something they're not, Chinon is always true to itself. It's a clever wine, that's a secret play, makes a great conversation piece and is the epitome of a food wine. Heck even rapper JayZ has said "When I'm fienon' for a reason, I leanon a little Chinon."

Ladies and gentleman, JayZ's right--pour some out for your homies, and here's to Chinon.

Enjoy the BUZZ--While It Lasts!

Obsession can lead to madness, if I don't have another sip of Quevedo 2007 Vintage Port soon, I may go insane!

This bottle was a barrel sample, brought into the United States by this man, Oscar Quevedo.It was the only one of it's kind in the country and he shared it with myself and a few other Seattle Sommeliers--I can't stop thinking about it.

The 2007 year in Portugal has now been declared a 'Vintage' year and the wines are just now starting to show up in the market. In the case of this particular wine I'm surprised the Portuguese wine cartel didn't have the place guarded like a Colombian drug deal. I seriously felt like this product had addictive qualities, as I had struggled to control my compulsive consumption. Here is what I tasted:

Intoxicating plum reeked from the glass. Gob's of black currant smothered my nasal cavities as I sopped up a smattering of it's unctuousness. A smile. Ear to ear. My sense of smell and sight and taste never more acute. All other senses now dull and dormant as I tilted back for my first sip. Before it hit my lips I knew, like the all knowing, it was decidedly so. Silence. Blueberry flavors that seemed impossible, plump thick plum juice then, the kind that makes you check the mirror for oozing facial drippage--like the drewl after dental Novocaine. If only my face fit into the little port glass, I would have stuck it in.

This black fruit was like that of which for pancakes or the surface area of toast. Prune was a part of this whole equation, and the formula a genetic masterpiece. Like colors I don't know the names of and how describing them does no justice--I can't explain some of this wine's flavor. Things I can question, but can only choose to ultimately accept.

After tasting this Port, I DID have to check my pants, and I AM starting to go a little mad. Why, you ask, don't I just buy a bottle?

Quevedo does't have an importer yet, which means I never will until they do! My advise to YOU, is to simply enjoy the BUZZ--while it lasts.

GONE GOING

It's evident that life never stops. You can lie there at night, with the window down and hear its continuum. Trash trucks, squeaky breaks, the wind then to the leaves, leaves then to the vineyard.

From the earth works the root, from the root the vine and its growing pains of ache and struggle. Similar to the stimulation of man, it's Miss Mother Nature who coaxes out vinous fruit like an apple, impossible to resist. In bottle and behind cork, once again come whispers in message; there they remain until even after they're gone--rest then their souls. Death imitates life and how alive with death some things are. The hands of the maker split, hardened and sore, weathered by the world. Asking forgiveness, then healed. Giveth and taketh away, no word as to the reasons why. Sacrificial acre dust scattered about the land and its expanses; touched by life, sweat, blood and tears.

A drizzle soon to a saturation, this misting an emotional miracle--nurturing the neglected. Cyclical not, predictable no, foreseeable so, rain once again. Too much, too little, just right, night sets in, the moon, the stars, the planets, the abyss. A wonder what it would be if no one noticed. Exists however its presence, listen to it and learn, wisdom awaits in your glass, open your window.

Cheesus Christ!

I was to most, in the middle of nowhere. I found myself at a place however that I had been in the past. If I had it my way I wouldn't of returned this time around, little before was I fond of. Completely unrelated to my and its purpose I came along a discovery that reminded me of something. First it was my awareness of my birth and the life that I felt before it. I was alive and awoken. Then it was the simple reminder that you NEVER see some things coming.

Like a woman in my case, to you maybe a man, she came and is now gone. It was love at first bite. I'm being serious. All I'm left with is a business card and an address, no website or email. Little but a memory now and a long distance relationship too far for even the most certain. This lover of mine can't even be googled, well you can but all you'll find is a Swiss castle bearing the name. It makes me feel lonely..empty..and abandoned.

To tell you now, I was in Oregon, the Willamette Valley--looking for Pinot Noir and the likes there of. The day was mid and the place I tell you for those who know it was Arbor Brook Winery--some of the nicest people. We made our way through the barn....or was it their winery, in typical fashion I was the first one finished. I probably wouldn't have made the move but I was waiting and OK, a little hungry, I always am. In the corner, in the lobby, by the window, away from the door, stood a man. A tempting sight I saw and so, I walked over.

This man a goat farmer and I tell you now, a cheese maker. His name was Mark. Guessing, he is 62 or so, tall and with a white beard and certainly a talent for cheese. The cheese, yes my love and of goats milk. Now, I don't know cheese but I do food and I can explain it like a wine.

Creamy, rich of earth, mushroom, truffle specifically, from the mold used I was told. Hedonistic, exotic, a delicate fresh prickle and a slightly oozing rich roundness. It was grassy, it had balance, these heightened focused flavors seductive and obvious. I wanted to say it tasted French but how could it be when I had tasted nothing this good from there or anywhere for that matter. It was mineral laden with a remarkable classic stature. I wish you a lick of this screen for its flavor. Most of the time you have to stop somewhere and I did. Only because it was time to go and I had manors and there was now a line. I wouldn't of been able to stop. What would have been the point? No such thing now of too-much-of-a-good-thing. Rich as the worlds wealth it was, but not filling--light and airy oddly. It was the truffle I tell you, or was it the goats, perhaps I was drunk or maybe it was all in my head.

It's been said "it's not the wine that makes for the moment, it's the moment that makes the wine", and I agree. In this case, this cheese made the moment and I am certain! I asked Mark if it had won any awards, he said he'd been making it for 2 years and had not entered it in a contest. Mark, enter it. He said the 'round' would of equated to about $20. Mark, I would of paid $100.

This cheese changed my life. I'm not sure how I feel about that. Here's how you can find it, send it my regards. Fair warning, you may never be the same.

Beroldingen
'Chahalem' Goat Cheese

3145 NE Bell Road
Sherwood, Oregon 97140
Mark & Priska - 503.554.8812

Wine Bottle Obituary - Bottoms Up!

Riff - Raff 2006 Columbia Valley Red Wine
Purchased at Seattle Wine Co.

A very intelligent person recently said to me 'a good bottle of wine should cost $15', actually that person was brilliant!

Riff - Raff (riff' raff') defined
noun
1. those people regarded as worthless, disreputable, etc.
2. worthless stuff

AU CONTRIARE!! This wine is nothing of the sorts and for $15 bucks it has a lot to say!

To start, a marginal Warning: One way or another the alcohol content will have you smiling, either realizing it's there or upon feeling its effects. Ethanol aside, you may very well find malted chocolate, red and black fruits as well as Ron Burgundy's 'rich mahogany' (actually cedar-but it sounded good). A sip or two and discover texture-to-the-third-power! Riff-Raff's center has sweet tones of rich port-like flavors, more chocolate, fine tannins and bright food-friendly acid.

Although not flawless, this wine is still a little diamond in the ruff. I guarantee it crushes (haha) most of its WA state $15 dollar competition and it's worth a try. Remember this label, heck even go out and search for it!

It All Starts Somewhere

I remember something. Of which, there is much I have forgotten. A reckoning that stained a lovely-vividness upon my life and propelled me to this place I find myself today. In a short time I have learned that wine is a metaphorical hug and handshake, at times a kiss and at others it makes love. It is a pickup line, a gesture in peace, an element to mourn, TO CELEBRATE, to communicate. A language of articulation, utilizes imagination, implies travel..it's destination in the glass. Give it time and effort and you'll see it. Here's what I remember...

I was living in Orlando, Florida. My roommates were friends and culinary graduates of Johnson & Wales University, the same school I had attended for Hospitality Management. I found my way back into their lives to help open a catering business, THAT we did! Now if you know catering or don't let me tell you it's hard work and has little rewards. On this day, it was Chef Lo (27 yrs. old from Laos) and myself. We as usual, packed up his Denali and headed to the event. IT, was at a wine shop! At this point in my life I was dabbling with wine, had a concept of food pairings and was CERTAINLY blindsided by the events to follow.

We unloaded the van. The function, for a bank I think. We were serving small bites. There was ceviche, Oysters Rockefeller but surprisingly, no bruschetta (industry joke)! The white wines were RIESLING and the reds I've certainly forgotten. As the night wained on the food disappeared, as too did the guests. This left us to cleanup and what do you know, 'would you two like some wine?', the owner said. Me a Hospitality major and Lo an Asian easily effected by alcohol, obliged! Outside beat with Florida's blazing heat, inside with even the air conditioning, the Riesling was quick to become our friend. I think the whites were about $60 a bottle, so of course at the time, that made them better! We were offered corks for the remaining wine of our choosing, so we chose! No surprise, no red!

Packed and shipping off and in the car Lo suggested a late dinner at his parents house. It was 8pm or so. I was 'in', and so we went, and on our way I remembered. Asian food...riesling.....Asian Food...Riesling ...ASIAAN FOOOD...RIESLINGGGG!!!!! Now understand these were thoughts to myself, I had understood that the pairing existed but at the time it still seemed a myth. Well when we arrived at his house, dinner was over. Everyone was gone, but his mother. However, she took over, down we sat and watched and waited. I in anticipation.

Not one thing did I recognize but the wine and the rice. From a basket and with our hands we scooped the rice out and onto our plates. In a bowl came an awkward looking green soup as I recall. A taste. Received with a spice of massive intensity, power and heat, however balanced like never a spice I have had since. Following that, an internal grin that probably spilled out over in tasty amazement. A glance to my host and then at the words Spatlese! A sip then I took that I can STILL taste and feel today, but no words now, a pause...................and another sip. It was happening, like 'the second coming', I had ARRIVED, then a new dish. It was tongue. Beef tongue to be specific and my first. Spicy once again, more rice, more wine and a bite. It was euphoric and a high I can only try to explain, never will I do it justice. Lastly thin strips of sliced beef, fried and crusted in sesame seeds. Firm and jerky like, its authenticity never questioned. The final sips and so it goes.

The details and specifics now are fuzzy. Lapsed time has done the memories in, but that's what I remember. Like love, you'll never see it coming. You can't prepare for it. However when it arrives you'll know, and I did. I'm certain that Lo doesn't know about this life shaping moment in my life, heck he might not even recall the night at all. Like peering over 'the other side' I saw something, I remember it and I want more.

Buzz Worthy

Christopher Columbus Would Approve This Discovery

NACHO ordinary, every day chardonnay, look what I found! This wine is a conversation piece for the rest of your life! I would have to say just being in it's presence, heck even reading about it through this blog makes you 'cool-by-association', no doubt! I've never had one, HOWEVER - it sounds fascinating! Have a read...

Vin Jaune (or 'VJ' if you prefer) is a unique wine from the Jura, located in Eastern France. Vin Jaune gets its character from being matured in a barrel under a film of yeast called the voile (veil) . The wine is made from late harvest Savagnin grapes, as they mature in barrel they are exposed to light levels of desirable oxidation, imparting its unique aromas and flavors. Vin Jaune is required to stay in barrel for over 6 years before bottling, after this allotted time only 62% of the original wine remains due to evaporation. Historically the bottle size alludes to the amount of wine left over after the 6 years. The bulbous, wax-sealed bottle looks different than any other wine bottle. Cool points, YES!

Vin Jaune wine ages extremely well. It is generally recommended that it not be drunk until ten years after bottling, that is, about 16 to 17 years after the vintage. The wine will keep for a long time, and 50 to 100 years is not unheard of. The wine can be paired with savory food dishes and local Jura cuisine including chicken recipes where the wine is cooked with the chicken itself and as a sauce component. Another common pairing is the local Compte cheese that is produced in the French-Compte region.

Ahhhh, thanks for the imaginary calories and drool Vin Jaune, can't wait to drink you! Please people, let me know if you beat me to it, I want details!