Cockfighter’s Ghost
Hunter Valley, Australia
Chardonnay
2004, $14.49, 12.7%
PLCB Product Code: 28092
Bananas in the nose – sweet like popsicles – and just a whiff of alcohol. Subtly oaked. A hint of tangerine. Expressive and scented. The palate is slightly sour given the inviting nose. Long in the mouth with good structure. Simple, but sound wine, reasonably priced. Flavorful though certainly not exciting, but a functional, crowd-pleasing New World white.
pan a la Catalana // pimientos estilo gernika // aceitunas mixtas
toasted bread topped with garlic, tomato & coriander
grilled poblano peppers with sea salt
mixed Spanish olives
serrano y manchego // champiñones al ajillo
Spanish cheese wrapped in ham
fried oyster mushrooms
paella de chorizo // pollo y limon // coredero moruno
seafood & sausage paella
chicken cooked in white wine, lemon juice and thyme
skewered marinated lamb
Now there’s no doubt in mind as I drink this wine that I’m going to have to add some tuna tartare to the list, but this wine is what I’ll be serving – along with some Sangria and some sherry and probably some Madeira when it’s time to relax.
I have always personally thought that the White Zinfandel Craze is kind of off base. Not that I have a problem with pink wines – by all means I love rose wine. But White Zinfandel comes from the (red) zinfandel grape. Zinfandel generally achieves uber-maturity, and so when making White Zin, rather than fermenting it to 16% alcohol they leave a bit of sugar. (Sugar converts to alcohol in fermentation. To simplify, if a winemaker leaves some unfermented sugar in a wine, the alcohol is less.) I generally don’t like sweet wines unless they have quite a bit of acidity to counterbalance them (such as in a well-made German Riesling). That’s why I’ve always thought lower-alcohol grapes such as Pinot Noir and (as is the case here) Sangiovese make better rose – pink wines.
In the bottle I have before me, the Pope Valley Winery 2005 Sangiovese Bella Rosa, I have a wine that served just slightly chilled (European Cellar Temperature – about 55 degrees), would pair with just about anything – and certainly please the most discerning palate when served with a diverse menu of foods such as those listed above. I’m looking forward to my upcoming picnic and more bottles of Pope Valley’s Wine. Dry, versatile and spicy with a touch of clay and a touch of chocolate. Nice acidity, fresh and aromatic. I can already taste it with pan a la Catalana and some paella. I suggest you to do the same! For the record, this would be great with one of my favorite slightly pretentious but inexpensive brunch items – an omelette of tomatoes, leeks and steamed mussels. Or Quiche. Or just about anything else one can dream up for a nice brunch…
So although I am starting to belive the words of Phil Connors, who tells us, “There is no way this winter is *ever* going to end as long as that groundhog keeps seeing his shadow. I don’t see any way out of it,” I’m looking forward to some tapas and rose REALLY SOON, on the deck with some friends!
The surprising answer is Soju, a Korean distilled spirit with which thanks to many very good Korean friends I have quite a bit of experience. Although it’s a bit of a departure from my normal topics, a recent and very informative episode of The Thirsty Traveler got me thinking that it might be a good topic to explore.
Admittedly I have had A LOT of Soju at select celebrations with some of my best freinds in the world, but knew little bout the beverage itself until now. What follows is mostly information collected from The Thirst Traveler and from Wikipedia. But I hope you enjoy learning about this exotic beverage all the same.
Soju is an alcoholic beverage with origins in Korea. The main ingredient is rice, almost always in combination with other ingredients such as wheat, barley, sweet potato, or tapioca (called dangmil in Korean). Soju is clear in color and typically varies in alcohol content from about 20% to about 45% alcohol by volume (ABV), with 20% ABV being most common. Its taste is comparable to vodka, though it is often slightly sweeter due to the addition of sugar in the manufacturing process.
There are two styles of Soju – old style and new style. Old Style Soju is extremely high in alcohol, and as far as I can tell pretty similar to a grappa or something similar. Old Style Soju is made with rice. New Style Soju has more variable contributions, often beginning with rice but also other additions such as tapioca or sweet potatoes. It’s probably this mixture of ingredients that makes Soju remind me of Gin more than other “White Liquors”.
Along with the mass-produced brands, which are widely available in Korea, there are several regions which are famous for making soju in a more traditional way, with the soju made in Andong being the most famous ( apoint that The Thirsty Traveler episode pointed out). I must say that for me watching elderly Korean women making artisan Soju in Andong as featured on the television program was one of the most truly fascinating things I have ever seen.
Soju is typically consumed in small shot glasses. The traditional toast is “Kombe!” A guest (and host) will often show respect by pouring and/or accepting the shot of Soju with two hands. When drinking with an elder, it is customary to turn your body entirely away and do the shot facing away from this person as a sign of respect.
What to eat with Soju. Again The Thirsty Traveler showed a beautiful recipe. A thin slice of flattened beef is layered with cooked black rice and julienned carrots. It is rolled and tied. The exterior is seared and flambeed in flaming soju, about 30 seconds a side. Set it aside so the jusices stay inside and then slice medallions.
Kombe!
Those of you who know me best know that I had open-heart surgery when I was younger. I went for a standard checkup at Children’s Hospital in Pittsburgh today, where I had my surgery in December, 1976. As expected (or at least as I hoped), I am in perfect health. I gave some thought to my next blog while I was in the waiting room, and, in one of those many “You might be a Wine Geek if…” moments, couldn’t get Chateau Calon-Segur out of my head (see label). Not as bad as when I was at a relative’s house who had a magnet on their refrigerator of the 1982 Farmer’s Almanac for some unknown reason and I thought it was ‘82 Petrus, but still fairly geeky. Despite the image of Calon-Segur’s label in my head, I started instead to think about what was going on in the wine industry in 1976. That’s an easy answer: the 1976 Judgement of Paris, a tasting I have mentioned elsewehere.
In my opinion, the Judgement of Paris is possibly the most overdramatized, preposterous piece of marketing nonsense in the wine business, although those who I offend with that comment would probably point to terroir as the same. Before everyone beats me down, let me give you my reasons.
First though, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Judgement of Paris let me briefly quote from Wikipedia as I often do to save my restating and retyping that which anyone can find with a simple Google search.
The 11 judges were Steven Spurrier, Patricia Gallagher of l’Academie du Vin, Odette Kahn, editor of the Revue du Vin de France, Jean-Claude Vrinat of the Restaurant Taillevent, Raymond Oliver of the restaurant Le Grand Vefour, the sommelier Christian Vanneque of Tour D’Argent, Aubert de Villaine of the Domaine de la Romanee-Conti, Pierre Tari of Chateau Giscours, Pierre Brejoux of the Institute of Appellations of Origin, Michel Dovaz of the Wine Institute of France, and Claude Dubois-Millot. Blind tasting was performed so that none of the judges knew the identity of what was being tasted.
The results were that 1973 Stag’s Leap Cabernet Sauvignon beat out its able competitors from both California (and more importantly) Bordeaux, including the famous Chateaux Mouton-Rothschild, Montrose and Haut-Brion. This signified (at least for Americans) that California wines could compete with the best in the world (and I certainly agree that they can).
Why do I think the Judgment of Paris is ridiculous? Mainly because I think blind tasting and/or rating wines I ridiculous.
Blind Tastings
Blind Tastings are tastings in which the participants have no idea what wine has been poured for them. In this way, they have no pre-conceived notions as to the quality of wine. I have done blind tastings a million times, and still find them meaningless. I remember the first time I visited Domaine Daniel Dampt in Chablis. I had never had a wine from the Domaine before I arrived, but I was and am intimately familiar with the vintages and vineyards of Chablis. Following a brief tasting of his current vintage, five wines from the year 2000, he poured me a wine blind. After some evaluation I correctly identified the wine as 1997 Chablis Premier Cru Cote de Lechet. I also remember once tasting a wine and saying, “I would bet my job that this is a Premier Cru Meursault from the 1997 vintage”: it was 1996 Staglin Rutherford Chardonnay. Luckily I was able to keep my job. Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don’t. It’s like the stock market or playing darts. Over a sustained period of time, everyone I know in the wine business gets more wrong – and oftentimes vastly wrong – than anywhere close to right. As Emile Peynaud claims in his book, in a truly “blind” tasting where participants can’t even see the wine, most degustateurs have a difficult time determining which ones are white or red.
But, in the Judgement of Paris they weren’t picking wines, they were rating them. Personally, I think this is more ridiculous than trying to identify wines “blind”. Magazines, most notably the Wine Spectator, claim that because all wines are tasted blind, there is no slant. On the other hand, “independent” reviewers such as Robert Parker indirectly point out that because they accept no advertisements, there results are not biased. Either way, they’re all in the business of sales. Despite the fact that I am a wine professional, I, like you, do buy wines for myself, and I’ll put myself entirely into the hands of anyone who has a palate I respect, ads or no ads, blind tastings or not.
When David Heimbourger (my apologies if I misspelled this) worked predominantly in Acker Merrall’s retail store in Manhattan’s Upper West-Side (last I checked he was largely running tastings and corporate events) I would regularly give him a price and a quantity and let him pick. “Dave, give me six bottles of good, cheap whites from Germany, Alsace and the Loire, around $120 total, and I’ll pick them up tomorrow”. I trusted him, as many of my clients trust me. In the end that’s all that matters.
But I digress. Here’s the thing, all wines are not created equal in a blind tasting. There’s a reason why wines are served in a particular order (although modern cusine has skewed this quite a bit). Different wines have different characteristics. Let’s take an extreme case. Unoaked Chablis (the real stuff, from France) would get lost in a tasting with nine Chardonnays from Australia, because it is less fruit-driven, is not as full-flavored and has lower alcohol. Its merits are lost. This is similar, by the way, to beer. Put the subtly powerful Samuel Smith’s Taddy Porter among nine highly-hopped American Microbrews, and it has a good chance of finishing last although it is one of my favorite beers in the world.
So in the end, the 1976 Judgement of Paris while signaling an uptick in notoriety for California helped promote blind tastings as a useful tool, although in only rare cases, in reality they aren’t. It also wrongfully promoted the notion that wines can be given a number or rating. They can’t. As I always say, if you like it today, right now, then it’s a 90 pointer. If you don’t it’s not. And that number may very well change depending on your mood, your company or what you’re eating the next time around.
Dave Racicot Taken In One Shot Anthony Bourdain Decanter Magazine Khymos.org Rockss and Fruit Spirits And Cocktails
