The blend of grapes is French (Rhone, to be precise), but the wine is actually from South Africa. Shiraz (only called this in South Africa and Australia - everywhere else it's known as Syrah), Mourvedre, and Viognier (a white grape often blended in with other grapes for its highly aromatic nature) aren't necessarily blended together in the Rhone, but they're all grown there, and I can see where Spier came up with idea of combining them.
Shiraz and Mourvedre share a gaminess, with complimentary red fruits. Shiraz/Syrah is frequently blended with Viognier in the Northern Rhone. They all "like" warmer growing conditions. And they've certainly made a nice wine here.
As a good Shiraz should, this wine has a deep, inky garnet color, with plenty of black pepper, earth, vanilla, and cassis on the nose. There's also an undercurrent of slate and some pronounced cocoa. The cocoa, cassis, and some mellow smoke carry over onto the palate, along with well-balanced acidity and fairly refined tannins. The texture is a little coarse, likely due to the high alcohol (15% ABV! Ouch! though totally characteristic of the grape varietals involved and the Mediterranean climate of the Western Cape). But the wine has quite a long finish and the flavors on the palate continue to evolve in the mouth after the wine has been swallowed (no spitting here!).
Overall, a recommended wine. It's not super cheap ($15-$20), but it's certainly worth the money, I give it an 87.
Thursday, September 30, 2010
Sunday, September 26, 2010
Disclaimer
Just so my (2) faithful readers don't think I'm a complete drunk, or a wasteful sot, I would like that tonight I am making Boeuf Vigneronne with all of the "bottle ends" of the wines I'm tasting and posting about. After a day or so has passed, most wines lose their appeal to me (now that I'm more of a snob than ever) - especially the reds. To rather than trying to consume a bottle of wine a day, or pouring a lot of wine (and money) down the drain, I reserve whatever I don't drink for cooking purposes. I have a 3/4 bottle of one (the Greek - hoping cooking it will give it some flavor) and a 1/4 of another, so...into the kettle they go with a pot roast and some herbs and pearl onions! Wish me luck!
Friday, September 24, 2010
2007 Hedges CMS White Columbia Valley
The CMS in this wine's name refers to the three white grapes in the blend: Chardonnay, Marsanne, and Sauvignon Blanc. True to the origins of these grapes, the wine appears to be made in the old world, French style - without aging in oak barrels - as many new world Chardonnays (and some Marsannes) are. This explains the very faint aromas displayed by this wine. I get a bit of green wood or hay, maybe a little green apple. Chardonnay is known for lacking strong aroma (one of the reasons oak is so often used); not true of the other two, which I thought might indicate that Chardonnay is the dominant grape in the blend (it's not - the wine is 64% Sauvignon Blanc).
I've heard good things about earlier vintages of this wine, but I'm not terribly impressed by this one. In addition to the wimpy nose, it's not a wine that grabs hold of the palette, either. It has a noticeable lack of acidity, which, when paired with the relatively high levels of residual sugar and alcohol, leave you with a wine of substantial body but not much structure to support it. I've heard Marsanne referred to as the Falstaff of white grapes. The analogy certainly holds true in this case: plenty of heft, but lacking the fortitude to follow through.
2007 was a particularly hot summer in Washington state, I believe, which goes quite a way towards explaining the high sugar and alcohol, and the low acidity, as warm temperatures tend to increase sugar levels, while acid levels decline. It does carry some nice, juicy fruit on the palette, though the green apple is opposed by a kind of bitter grapefruit rind that isn't entirely appealing.
The wine isn't faulted, but there's not much there there, really. I give it an 80. Meh.
I've heard good things about earlier vintages of this wine, but I'm not terribly impressed by this one. In addition to the wimpy nose, it's not a wine that grabs hold of the palette, either. It has a noticeable lack of acidity, which, when paired with the relatively high levels of residual sugar and alcohol, leave you with a wine of substantial body but not much structure to support it. I've heard Marsanne referred to as the Falstaff of white grapes. The analogy certainly holds true in this case: plenty of heft, but lacking the fortitude to follow through.
2007 was a particularly hot summer in Washington state, I believe, which goes quite a way towards explaining the high sugar and alcohol, and the low acidity, as warm temperatures tend to increase sugar levels, while acid levels decline. It does carry some nice, juicy fruit on the palette, though the green apple is opposed by a kind of bitter grapefruit rind that isn't entirely appealing.
The wine isn't faulted, but there's not much there there, really. I give it an 80. Meh.
Monday, September 20, 2010
2006 Collin-Bourissset Cotes du Rhone Reserve de la Closerie
I picked this wine up at the store tonight for 2 reasons: 1) It was on sale. 2) I'm intrigued by the somewhat suspect provenance of this wine. Collin-Bourisset is a fairly prolific (admittedly somewhat scattered) Burgundian winery. Or so I thought.... So why have they produced a Cotes du Rhone? And why is it bottled in Burgundy? Turns out that, in addition to wines from their own vineyards, Collin-Bourisset also trades wines from a number of other French regions. So, still a little suspect, but mystery at least partially solved.
My second clue that this was not a Burgundy (after the label, of course), was the color. Much deeper than a pinot noir and not nearly as purple as a beaujolais. Quite a lovely ruby red, just paling to orange at the rim. The nose is ripe with red currant, caramel, and a hint of black pepper and smoke.
The aromas don't really carry over to the palate, although the finish is quite long and has some developing fruit. The structure is balanced and strong, with enough acid to make your mouth water, but not enough to cause any puckering, which is exactly what I expect from a Cotes du Rhone. The tannins are present, but soft and pleasant. Although it's not complex in flavor and is a little hollow in the middle, overall it's a very nice sipping wine and would go really well with roasted chicken and root vegetables (it's possible I think that because there is a lovely rotisserie chicken waiting for me in the chicken, but I do believe it will be a good match)! I give it an 84.
My second clue that this was not a Burgundy (after the label, of course), was the color. Much deeper than a pinot noir and not nearly as purple as a beaujolais. Quite a lovely ruby red, just paling to orange at the rim. The nose is ripe with red currant, caramel, and a hint of black pepper and smoke.
The aromas don't really carry over to the palate, although the finish is quite long and has some developing fruit. The structure is balanced and strong, with enough acid to make your mouth water, but not enough to cause any puckering, which is exactly what I expect from a Cotes du Rhone. The tannins are present, but soft and pleasant. Although it's not complex in flavor and is a little hollow in the middle, overall it's a very nice sipping wine and would go really well with roasted chicken and root vegetables (it's possible I think that because there is a lovely rotisserie chicken waiting for me in the chicken, but I do believe it will be a good match)! I give it an 84.
Saturday, September 18, 2010
2006 Gaia Agiorgitiko Péloponnèse Nótios
The first time I ever tasted a Greek wine could easily have been my last. It was sour and doggy and so astringent I felt like someone had attached a vacuum hose to my mouth and sucked out all the moisture. But, being either stubborn or foolish (it's so hard to tell sometimes), a few months ago I tried again with a Mercouri Pisatis Folói (a white wine made from the roditis grape) from the Péloponnèse region - delicious. The Greeks had redeemed themselves oenologically in my eyes (or, rather, my mouth).
So tonight I'm tasting a 2006 Gaia Agiorgitiko Péloponnèse Nótios. (Agiorgitiko is a common red grape grown in Greece, named in reference to St. George, I believe.) The nose of the Gaia is uncharacteristic for an agiorgitiko; instead of the classic plum and spice, I get an earthy, mushroomy aroma, reminiscent of a damp forest floor, and not much fruit at all - perhaps a hint of fresh cherry.
Also unusual for an agiorgitiko is the relatively high level of acid in this wine. It's a heat-resistant grape that thrives in higher tempratures than many grapes can stand, sometimes at the expense of the resultant wine's structure. The acid seems in proportion to the alcohol, making me think the wine may have been acidified during vinification. Another indication of this is that the acid does not seem fully integrated into the wine - sort of like how a sheer bandage doesn't really look like skin. There is a slight, pleasant astringency, but overall it's a simple, light-medium body wine with plenty of structure but a lack of fruit. In fact the flavor is fairly weak overall, with a hint of something stinky - almost garlicky - lingering in the backrgound.
It's not a horrible wine, but it's not noteworthy, either. I'll have a hard time recalling this one from the depths of my taste memory if I spot it in a store sometime, and I don't expect it will improve or evolve much with age. Don't go out of your way, but if you happen to have some, drink it with something hearty like a beef stew or cheese fondue to give it a little more heft. I'd give it an 80.
So tonight I'm tasting a 2006 Gaia Agiorgitiko Péloponnèse Nótios. (Agiorgitiko is a common red grape grown in Greece, named in reference to St. George, I believe.) The nose of the Gaia is uncharacteristic for an agiorgitiko; instead of the classic plum and spice, I get an earthy, mushroomy aroma, reminiscent of a damp forest floor, and not much fruit at all - perhaps a hint of fresh cherry.
Also unusual for an agiorgitiko is the relatively high level of acid in this wine. It's a heat-resistant grape that thrives in higher tempratures than many grapes can stand, sometimes at the expense of the resultant wine's structure. The acid seems in proportion to the alcohol, making me think the wine may have been acidified during vinification. Another indication of this is that the acid does not seem fully integrated into the wine - sort of like how a sheer bandage doesn't really look like skin. There is a slight, pleasant astringency, but overall it's a simple, light-medium body wine with plenty of structure but a lack of fruit. In fact the flavor is fairly weak overall, with a hint of something stinky - almost garlicky - lingering in the backrgound.
It's not a horrible wine, but it's not noteworthy, either. I'll have a hard time recalling this one from the depths of my taste memory if I spot it in a store sometime, and I don't expect it will improve or evolve much with age. Don't go out of your way, but if you happen to have some, drink it with something hearty like a beef stew or cheese fondue to give it a little more heft. I'd give it an 80.
Thursday, September 16, 2010
2006 Vintjs Cabernet Sauvignon
Trader Joe's has some really awful wine (I'm sorry, but there's a reason it's called 3-buck chuck - it's fit only for male ruminants as far as I'm concerned). But, Trader Joe's also has some excellent value wines. The 2006 Vintijs (pronounced "Vintage") Cabernet Sauvignon is one. I acutally think it could be a cellar-worthy wine. At 4 years old, in the glass the rim is just beginning to take on an orange tint, and in the mouth the tannins are just starting to mellow. They'll smooth out in a year or two, but they're by no means aggressive right now. It'll stand up to some time.
The wine carries raspberry, red currant, and nutmeg on the nose, which seems appropriate to the ruby red hue. The acidity is pronounced, but in balance with the alcohol and the tannins, leaving you with a short but fruit-juicy and spicy finish.
Drinks like a much pricier wine. Well worth the $10! I give it an 85/100.
The wine carries raspberry, red currant, and nutmeg on the nose, which seems appropriate to the ruby red hue. The acidity is pronounced, but in balance with the alcohol and the tannins, leaving you with a short but fruit-juicy and spicy finish.
Drinks like a much pricier wine. Well worth the $10! I give it an 85/100.
Musings of a Blog Ingenue
Having never actually read a blog, let alone written one, I find that, much to my own surprise, I've just sat down a created a blog. I think part of my aversion to this point has been largey the word: "blog." It sounds like a word from a B-level sci fi film ("Look out, Jim! There's a blog approaching at 3.4 nanometers per second; and boy does he look angry!"), or possibly the sound of someone being desperately sick after eating too much pudding.
But, in the end, I find that I have things to say that fit the format of the blog quite well, so here we are.
The purpose of this blog is to talk about wine, in any of its various aspects: the making, the drinking, the serving, the pairing. This time last year, I might have had a bottle or two of Little Penguin or Yellow Tail tucked away in my cupboard, but for the most part I didn't give wine a first thought, let alone a second. I've enjoyed it, and been able to tell drinkable from disgusting, but that was about it. Until I took a flight from Denver to Boston that changed my life. That sounds trite, even to my own ears, but I can't think of a better way to put it.
I was on my way home, after a lovely Christmas with my family, and was staring vaguely at the "in flight entertainment" (usually to be avoided at any cost), where a woman was sitting at a Parisian cafe, sipping a glass of red wine, about which I assumed she was discoursing. Lucky duck, I thought. Imagine it being your job to travel and taste wine. And it took only a moment before I realized there was no reason why I couldn't learn a bit more about wine, and maybe - someday - know enough to impart my wisdom on cross-country flights everywhere.
So when I got home, I enrolled in a class that surveyed all the different grapes and wine regions, and began purchasing and tasting wine at an unprecedented rate. I had no idea whether malbec was a grape, a wine region, or a brand of designer shoes, but I bought it and drank it and liked it.
I'm now in my second class, a much more intensive study of wine analysis, vinification, as well as marketing and sales. I'm interviewing for a part time job in a wine shop. And I'm buying as much wine as my bank balance will support. I'll try anything once. (I've even tried sherry once. I don't need to try it again. If I want to replicate the experience, I'll go dump some rock salt on a decomposing mushroom and suck on it.) And while my wallet and my liver are suffering, I thought perhaps I could share my experiences with an audience (provided someone stumbles upon this thing and acutally reads it).
So here is my wine blog. There will be wine reviews, for sure, as well as commentary on my adventures in the wine trade. As I practice my ability to analyze and communicate wine to others, I also hope to provide readers with some useful recommendations for wines of good value, pairings with food that have worked (and, as a cautionary tale, those that haven't - the California cabernet sauvignon that I'm currently drinking while eating a bowl of Cheerio's, for example), and perhaps a chuckle or two to those of you who will be amused to learn that last night I mistook an Alsatian riesling for a New Zealand sauvignon blanc in a blind tasting. I blame the tropical fruits on the nose.
So....here we go!
But, in the end, I find that I have things to say that fit the format of the blog quite well, so here we are.
The purpose of this blog is to talk about wine, in any of its various aspects: the making, the drinking, the serving, the pairing. This time last year, I might have had a bottle or two of Little Penguin or Yellow Tail tucked away in my cupboard, but for the most part I didn't give wine a first thought, let alone a second. I've enjoyed it, and been able to tell drinkable from disgusting, but that was about it. Until I took a flight from Denver to Boston that changed my life. That sounds trite, even to my own ears, but I can't think of a better way to put it.
I was on my way home, after a lovely Christmas with my family, and was staring vaguely at the "in flight entertainment" (usually to be avoided at any cost), where a woman was sitting at a Parisian cafe, sipping a glass of red wine, about which I assumed she was discoursing. Lucky duck, I thought. Imagine it being your job to travel and taste wine. And it took only a moment before I realized there was no reason why I couldn't learn a bit more about wine, and maybe - someday - know enough to impart my wisdom on cross-country flights everywhere.
So when I got home, I enrolled in a class that surveyed all the different grapes and wine regions, and began purchasing and tasting wine at an unprecedented rate. I had no idea whether malbec was a grape, a wine region, or a brand of designer shoes, but I bought it and drank it and liked it.
I'm now in my second class, a much more intensive study of wine analysis, vinification, as well as marketing and sales. I'm interviewing for a part time job in a wine shop. And I'm buying as much wine as my bank balance will support. I'll try anything once. (I've even tried sherry once. I don't need to try it again. If I want to replicate the experience, I'll go dump some rock salt on a decomposing mushroom and suck on it.) And while my wallet and my liver are suffering, I thought perhaps I could share my experiences with an audience (provided someone stumbles upon this thing and acutally reads it).
So here is my wine blog. There will be wine reviews, for sure, as well as commentary on my adventures in the wine trade. As I practice my ability to analyze and communicate wine to others, I also hope to provide readers with some useful recommendations for wines of good value, pairings with food that have worked (and, as a cautionary tale, those that haven't - the California cabernet sauvignon that I'm currently drinking while eating a bowl of Cheerio's, for example), and perhaps a chuckle or two to those of you who will be amused to learn that last night I mistook an Alsatian riesling for a New Zealand sauvignon blanc in a blind tasting. I blame the tropical fruits on the nose.
So....here we go!
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