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Welcome to the 5th Edition of the Wine Book Club, the online book club for wine lovers who also like to read. I'm the host for this month's event, and for my theme I was inspired by the season. What better way to celebrate September and October than to read a book written by a genuine PhD (September is back to school month) about wine and politics (we are in the midst of an election)? This idea was even more appealing given that the author may be better known to those of you who read wine blogs as Dr. Vino, the award-winning wine blogger.
Colman's book compares the way that politics has shaped wine culture in France and America. One of the most striking things about the story he tells here is that, along with politics, there are two other "P"s that have played an equally active a role in determining what you drink: phylloxera, the louse that destroyed grape vines all over the world in the 1870s; and Robert Parker, the critic who began telling us what we should drink in the 1970s. Phylloxera, it turns out, led to such a collapse in the worldwide wine business that it opened the door to greater governmental control and intervention as people sought to limit fraud, graft, corruption, and lost income. And Parker helped people to wade through seas of indifferent wine with misleading labels at a time when Americans were still drinking like it was Prohibition and they'd rather mainline the hard stuff than drink a glass of wine with dinner. The ripples he sent out from his one-man business in Monkton, Maryland in the 1970s now threaten to engulf us in wave after wave of homogeneous wine made to please Parker's influential palate.
I consider myself reasonably knowledgeable about wine history, but I was surprised again and again by the nuggets of historical lore and sharp analysis that Colman includes here. Lately, I've been wondering why we don't buy wine in bulk here in the US like they do virtually everywhere else in the world. Turns out it's due to a combination of Prohibiton (and the resulting patchwork of legislation) and something called the Office of Price Administration that was established in World War II. Until then, wine was shipped in tanker trucks and on the rails to 1500 bottling facilities studded all over the country. And thus the enormous carbon footprint of wine began!
Colman's message is sobering, even though his book is a delight to read with its clear prose and fluid style. The bottom line is this: when money, egos, and bureaucracy collide--as they do in the wine business--it becomes almost impossible to do what is best for consumers, the environment, and the winemakers themselves. With everybody taking a cut in wine sales, from the bottle makers to the distributors to the retailers to the government, it really is astonishing that anyone bothers to make wine at all. And in case you're thinking the situation is better in France, let me assure you it isn't--it's just different.
If you enjoy Colman's blog, you are in for a treat since this book is written in the same direct, engaging style as his blog posts. The book has great graphic features (like a comparison of how politics shapes French and American wine blog labels) and informative sidebars that offer the reader opportunities to pause and consider the issues from a fresh perspective.
I highly recommend this book, especially if you find yourself wondering why you don't know what grape is in a French bottle of wine, or why it is that an American wine is labeled "Cabernet Sauvignon" when 25% of the grapes in it are Syrah. The answer to both questions is simple. Wine Politics. After reading this book, you'll never think about the relationship between the two in the same way again.
Tyler Colman's Wine Politics: How Governments, Environmentalists, Mobsters, and Critics Influence the Wines We Drink was published by the University of California Press, who sent a copy of the book to me for review. It retails for $27.50, but you can buy it on Amazon.com for $18.15.
If you are participating in this month's online club, please leave comments and/or links to your own posts below. You can also leave links at the Wine Book Club site, or on our mirror site on Shelfari.
But what did this family drink? On offer was the internationally exported Tsingtao beer from another famed coastal city, Qingdao. The spelling ?Tsingtao? is from the Wades-Giles system of representing the sounds of Chinese characters (now defunct); but some Chinese brands/institutions like to state their age by using the early 20th Century romanized spelling replaced by pinyin after 1949 and the foundation of the PRC (the pinyin is ?Qingdao?, pronounced ?ching-dow? for English speakers). There was also Chinese peach juice and the inescapable bai jiu, literally ?white alcohol?, a category of spirits distilled from sorghum or millet which can range in flavour from delicate aniseed to rotting garbage (I don?t know how they quite manage that or what kind of ?still? bai jiu is actually distilled in).
We?d brought a bag of gifts with us ? never go to a Chinese family without bringing something ? which included a bottle of 2007 Lo Tengo Torrontes from Norton (from importer ASC). Torrontes is an Argentinian, highly aromatic grape (a bit like a cross between Muscat and Gewurztraminer with an oily and slightly bitter aftertaste) which, in our experience, has appealed to Chinese wine drinkers. But the Chinese never open gifts in front of people and it would have been rude to suggest chilling it. So we got talking about wine instead, over beer, peach juice and bai jiu.
Bai jiu is fairly evil in more than one respect. Although the northern Chinese like to drink it with seafood and just about anything, its very name has clouded the existence of white wine. Red wine is popularly known as hong jiu (literally ?red alcohol?), but its correct, full name is hong putao jiu (?red grape alcohol?). Because the Chinese know bai jiu as ?white alcohol? and red wine as hong jiu, many are unaware that white wine, whose correct name is bai putao jiu (?white grape alcohol?), even exists. And, as we discovered in trying to find a wine shop in downtown Dalian, not everyone even knows that the lauded hong jiu ? the short-hand for red wine ? is made from grapes. Asking for a local shop selling putao jiu (wine in general), one security guard assured us there was nothing like that in the area, but there was a shop selling hong jiu! When Fongyee qualified ?hong putao jiu?, the guard looked even more perplexed. But there?s nothing in the phrase hong jiu that mentions grapes, of course.
Over the prawn soup, we talked about wine. Many Chinese, although they buy Chinese wines for patriotic reasons, are suspicious of the bigger brands: Great Wall, Changyu, Dynasty etc.
Their suspicions were not allayed when we revealed the big brands blend Chinese wine with imported must (whenever another country, say Spain or Chile, has a surplus); but they were interested in Grace Vineyard and Dragon Seal as producers using exclusively Chinese grapes. The older generation like their beer and bai jiu and find wine?s acidity and the tannins in red wine to be a bit unpleasant; although many older Chinese feel they should be drinking red wine for health reasons. The younger generation ? in this case Fongyee?s 34 year-old cousin who works in real-estate and her husband, a tennis instructor ? does drink wine, but there is not much of a wine-bar scene in Dalian, outside the five-star hotels.
We knew already about Dalian-based French importer DCT Wines, run by Frederic Choux. In addition, we found an intriguing wine-bar and shop called AP Wines in a local shopping mall.
The Dalian owner spoke English and explained the wines he was importing directly. It took a while to realize that the name AP came from Australian producer, Andrew Peace, whose wines dominated the shop?s selection. All in all these looked pretty pricey by Beijing standards (e.g. well over 300RMB for a generic Coonawarra Cabernet Sauvignon) and the place had only been open a year, so perhaps business was tough. The owner didn?t let on, but was on the ball, offering a glass of 2006 Master Peace Shiraz, Andrew Peace which he apologized was a bit cold to drink as it had been stored in the fridge (at least they were trying to preserve opened bottles somehow). AP Wines did have a few wines from France and Germany besides the Andrew Peace range. But we thought we?d shake things up a bit with our Chinese relatives by purchasing a tetra-pak, one-litre bottle of non-vintage Andrew Peace Chardonnay for next day?s feast.
I say shake things because in a young wine market like China?s traditional packaging, cork closures and red wines generally reign supreme, even although most Chinese palates prefer lighter reds with generally low tannins (e.g. from wines made from grapes like Gamay or Pinot Noir) or whites with some residual sugar. So we?d deliberately chosen a wine under cork as a gift, albeit the plastic cork of the above Lo Tengo Torrontes before arriving in Dalian. Now, here we were a) bringing white wine to the table, b) choosing a wine in a one-litre format not standard 75 cl bottle and c) purchasing something in less than ?classy? packaging. We could ?keep face? doing this only because of our professional work and knowledge of international wines. As a result everyone in the family tried the Aussie Chardonnay and ostensibly liked it. But it was Fongyee?s younger cousins who actually drank most of the tetra-pak, saying how well the wine went with the beautiful Dalian clams on offer.
So let?s explode a few myths and report on what we learned or confirmed: it is not correct to say the Chinese struggle to drink alcohol, even wine, or are blind to trying new things (we hear a lot of importers here who insist the Chinese will only try certain types of wine ? ignore them. It?s more a matter of education all round). The only Chinese who don?t drink much tend to be Cantonese. They lack alcohol dehydrogenase, the enzyme that processes alcohol ? hence the pink-in-the-face routine after half a glass. These ?wine drinkers? should try Moscato d?Asti or another low-alcohol wine with decent residual sugar and pleasant, easy-to-like aromas. Northern Chinese drink like the Russians and Koreans: don?t take them on, particularly with bai jiu. The older generation are unlikely to be great wine buyers, unless they are highly affluent. It?s China younger drinkers who are coming to Western brands in all forms. Where wine may have the edge, though, is that it is perceived to be healthier than spirits. White wine may not be well-known, but younger drinkers will try just about anything and choosing and drinking international wines has social cachet.
The Dalian wine-lists we saw ? in our hotel and a few restaurants ? were dominated by the more significant importers here, particularly ASC and Torres China. But the wine scene is very young. However, there?s certainly a fair bit of cash knocking around this popular Chinese city with massive building developments and the predictable run of black S-Class Mercedes ducking between scooters and vehicles of all other descriptions.
On our final day, we visited a local Buddhist temple and monastery. From a distance, this countryside retreat could have dated from the Ming or Qing Dynasties. But as we came up close, it looked newer and newer, in fact, very new! (Not that this necessarily meant it was new. Beijing?s Ming Dynasty Forbidden City is, for example, under constant restoration and re-painting). But this place was genuinely young. A group of wealthy Buddhists had built the entire thing from scratch as recently as 2004. As we thought about this massive undertaking, we wondered if the Chinese Buddhists in question ? generally, more laid back than their Japanese Zen or Lamaist Tibetan counterparts ? were also buying wine for their festivals and holidays. Judging by the SUVs and luxury cars lining the car-park of this working temple, many of these Chinese Buddhists could certainly afford to buy wine and perhaps a few of them are.
Cheers,
Edward Ragg
Edward Ragg & Fongyee Walker write for us from Beijing, and you can get more information on their website, Dragon Phoenix Fine Wine Consulting
Hello blog, it's been a while. I'm not trying to neglect you I promise. It's the lack of high speed internet at work that's keeping me from you. I plan on paying more attention to you this week, I swear! The posts may be shorter but better short than nothing right??
Does insurance cover that??
Ulriksdals Wardshus is a famous restaurant that has made it into the Guinnes Book of World Records for their wine collection. Get this, they have a collection consisting of the 6 first growths of Bordeaux from every vintage in the 18th CENTURY!!!!!!!! That alone makes them beyond impressive, but here?s the dirt. They got robbed. Yes that?s right, robbed! I bet you can?t guess what they stole?.
Ulriksdals Wärdshus, a restaurant and old event hall world famous for its French red wine was robbed on Saturday night. Its entire collection, valued at more than 3.5 million kronor, has vanished.The collection consisted of more than 600 bottles from every vintage of the 18th century from the six Grand Cru castles of the French Bordeaux region. The collection has been registered by Guinness Book of Records for years as a unique wine collection. Ström said the alarm system was disabled allowing the thieves to have hours to burgle the place. She said the heavy-duty glass security door had been opened with a crow bar. ?It must have taken hours,? she said, adding that they took the security tape before leaving.She said the thieves then went down into the cellar where the collection was stored at 16 degrees Celsius in semi-dark conditions. ?They must have had boxes there to carry up all of that wine,? Ström said. ?They took every bottle. It must have taken a long time to pack.?She said police did not find any fingerprints or DNA, but did find a footprint. She said police told her the only way to solve this case would be to have people call in with tips.?I can?t believe all of the wine is gone,? she said. ?Guests used to love coming down and looking at it.?
Sounds like an inside job to me. But what do I know. The crazy part is that a collection like that is so rare that if it shows up on the market people would know where it came from. Maybe somebody will have a party. Either way, it?s a damn shame.
As the summer turns up the heat and the sounds of BBQs, street festivals and music, sweet music waft through the air, the chiming of Mojito glasses can be heard. To celebrate this classic drink, Tidings has commissioned two recipes...
Vern Fisher of the Monterey County Herald came by one day and photographed us as we processed Chardonnay and Pinot Noir on the same day. Click here to see and hear the slideshow he put together. By the way— I’d have to get my arm twisted to do both whites and reds simultaneously here, because, well, you’ll see why…..but sometimes I’m reminded that Mother Nature is stronger than me, hee hee. Anyway, I’ve long admired Vern’s photographs in the paper, and I think he was able to capture what we do here on a very busy day.
The slideshow starts out at Chula Vina….the first photo is Henry Carrasco, owner of Chula Vina…the crew is shown harvesting the Chardonnay and Pinot that we subsequently are shown processing. Chula Vina is in Chualar Canyon, BTW, and it is one of my favorite beautiful places. Enjoy…
Next up for Halloween Week here at BWR, a creepy cocktail... Given the sobriquet "Corpse Reviver", I'd suggest this as a fun apéritif for your Halloween party this year.
While looking around for more information on cocktails, I stumbled upon the excellent blog Oh Gosh! written by Jay in England. Since I lean more towards the classics I liked the sound of the Corpse Reviver #2 from the 1930 edition of The Savoy Cocktail Book by Harry Craddock.
The drink is equal parts gin, Lillet Blanc, Cointreau, and lemon juice (fresh squeezed only, please), with just a dash of pastis, absinthe, or other anise-flavored liqueur. Shake with ice and strain into a cocktail glass, garnish with a cherry if desired. It's meant as a restorative breakfast beverage, but in my opinion is much better as a refreshing afternoon cocktail. I'm just not a fan of drinking before the mail arrives. The flavors balance out well with each other, and the touch of pastis adds a sophisticated element to the drink.
Keep this in mind for next summer as a good "grown up lemonade", which reminds me of something my friend Paul and I used to make back in our novice drinking days. We'd combine generic artificial lemonade, 7-up, and vodka. We called it Limonov Sevenupski and in retrospect it was syrupy sweet, but that helped cover up the flavor of the sometimes prison-grade vodka used. (There was one called McPherson's or something that was made in Missouri and sold for about $15 a gallon.)
On a similar note, my high school physics teacher had a previous career as a C-130 pilot for the Navy. He used to fly supply missions to Antarctic science stations, and he taught us about a cocktail enjoyed down there that he called Absolute Zero. The recipe involved stealing pure grain alcohol from the lab and adding crystallized orange juice concentrate to make the Devil's own screwdriver. As he told the group of 11th graders, "You could get drunk off the fumes alone."
I purchased the book and wine on the same day. I think the wine will appeal to most, while the book is likely to have a far narrower audience. Charcuterie (by Michael Ruhlman and Brian Polcyn) is 300 plus pages of meat, salt and smoke. I plan to start with the bacon before moving on to the pancetta. . .
Friendly is the middle of three Grüners (Singing and Charming being the other two) made by Laurenz Five. It's very good. Light, textured and mineral, it smells of flint (sulphur) and river stones coated in honey and lemon juice. Clear and persistent with pear skin and sherbet flavours rimmed by gripping texture and flesh.
Is it just me, or are we smack-dab in the middle of topsy-turvy times? I gotta tell you, it?s exciting, exhilarating and a jolt of terrificante in my espresso. Really a great time to be engaged in whatever it is that takes you to the top, fires you up, makes you feel the breeze in your face, the cold, biting wind and the last of the setting sun as we head away from summer. And with all this excitement there?s this slightly disorienting facet that has one looking to recalibrate and check for balance. Not.
Like our social and political circuses that surround us, so the world of wine, and Italy, really seem to be in sync with this slightly out of register skew to things. Is this merely lucid dreaming or are the bathing beauties of Tuscany and Alto-Adige and Campania really vying for our attention? Or are they merely engaged in some kind of commercial cat-fight for our hearts and dollars? Happiness is a warm warehouse.
Sitting around some of the smaller corporate campfires lately, discussions have been had about the state of the wine business, and there seems to be a confluenza of notions and trends. I heard from a gent tonight who was the domestic head of an online service that finds buyers for rare and valuable wine. They were cutting his department and he was handed a pink slip. Eighteen months ago, that would have been unthinkable. Less than a month ago the delivery company DHL announced they would no longer be shipping wine domestically. So this little ray of hope, to the folks who think the three tier system is obsolete, is dimming. Money is tight, things get downsized.
In the world in which I live, there isn?t a day that doesn?t go by that I don?t get a note or three from some Italian wine company wanting to get onto the Ark. The smaller companies don?t have the capital, the ability to pay their bills. Everybody is trying to fit their animals on our ship. We are desirable, like this is some kind of beauty pageant. Hey folks, winter is coming, time to put the swimsuits in the drawer. Pass the grappa and cuddle up on a couch somewhere and find something to do. Not the time to plant tomatoes.
There?s something to be said about traveling the road with a camera and a bag of wine. It?s quite the spectacle. Today San Antonio, tomorrow Austin, the next day Dallas, then on to El Paso, McAllen and back to Longview. The Big Amarone Circus is coming to town with the killer B?s, Barolo, Barbaresco and Brunello. An exhibition of rarities so rare the Italian restaurateur doesn't even know about it. And the whole time the ringmaster?s friend, the ace photographer, is snapping away at the parade of models in their finest swimwear.
Will no one tell these bathing beauties, vying for the attention of the Maggiordomo, that Persephone is on the horizon, heralding the approach of the cold winds and winter? After all, they shoot the messenger in an upside-down world, don?t they?
My faith has been restored. In Texas. In Italian Wine. In Italian wine in Texas. In Restaurants in Texas. And in the whole chasing after windmill exercise that we do when we attempt to bring the Word of Wine to the outer edges of civilization. I finally got my groove on, and in Marfa, Texas, no less. Word to Sancho: Flyover country has been secured and made safe.
There?s something about the simplicity of the desert that cuts right to the essential. Maybe it?s the access to ingredients. Or perhaps it is just that once you strip it down to what you really need, you really don?t need all that much. When you?re staring at yourself in the mirage and you are forced to look at whatever you can manage to make from your memory and your imagination, then one is compelled to stare down the demons and make sense of it. Here in Marfa, they call it A.R.T.
My background in the arts didn?t have me getting all wiggly and wobbly as we spent some free time strolling among the buildings at the Chinati Foundation. There is something about the way an artist can challenge you to look at your own doodlings in life and ask you if what you have been doing these past 20 years has any more relevance than what he has put up on these walls.
In that sense, the art on those walls forced me to think about these things. And with the unsolicited quiet of the desert, the lack of distraction, this created an unavoidable encounter with my ?inner? Marfa Lights.
Cochineal (no web site, don?t Google it, you wont find one) was a perfect launching into the future of food in Texas. Not cutting edge, no not-that-in-your-face. More like simple ingredients without towers, truffle oil or turpitude. Take it or leave it.
We met Chef Paul Peterson, of the Gage Hotel in Marathon, at Cochineal. He and his wife had managed to get a night off and left offspring with family in Alpine, half way between Marfa and Marathon. Paul is one of those chefs that, if you dropped him in Austin or Park Slope, would easily transition toward the top of the scene. Easy going and mellow, with an edge. Kind of like a Chianti from Querciabella. In fact, we opened a few bottles that night, thanks to Cochineal owners Tom Rapp and Toshi Sakihara. Eventually they sat down with us as we worked late into the night. Among other things, we had a Carbonara that anyone, anywhere, would be proud of.
Walking out into an early autumn night in the desert, stars are jamming the skies; rush hour in Rome is light by comparison.
Maybe we should start a Chianti Foundation. Because of the interest in Italian wine in this little west Texas town. It would fit right-tight into the matrix of Marfa.
A new day, and we find ourselves in front of Chef Maiya Keck of Maiya?s. While we were talking about wine, I was thinking, ?She really likes Italians.? The restaurant is Italian inspired and along with a perfectly delicious looking high ceiling dining room straight out of the WPA, I couldn?t wait to come back in the evening.
In the meantime she sent us across the street to the Food Shark, a mobile food stand at the farmers market. It seemed everyone in town was heading for the Food Shark, as scads of young people were working their way through the interesting menu.
As I was cogitating what I would order, a woman stepped up to get her to go order. When I heard her voice I said to myself, ?That is the voice of Isabella Rossellini.? I then looked to her and made eye contact. Were those the eyes of Isabella Rossellini? It wouldn?t be out of the question that someone like her would be here, seeing as this was the week for the Marfa annual Open House. I looked her over and she seemed to resemble Isabella from one of the scenes of Blue Velvet. I would encounter her later in the day, when perhaps that little mystery would be solved.
The falafel at the Food Shark was one hellatiously good lunch choice. It reminded me of DoBi?s endless search for Fish Tacos, though the Falafel Forage might be a little more difficult in these parts.
A block away was the Pizza Foundation, Maiya?s sister, Saarin, runs it. Thin pizza, not over worked. I asked Ronnie the pizzaiolo how it was to make pizza at this elevation (appx 4800) and he explained that he had gotten the recipe down to deal with the elevation, the heat and the dry conditions. He did.
That evening we had a wine tasting/ reception at the old bus station , home of Shelly and Harry Hudson. Shelly?s son, Jules, runs a neat little place in Dallas, Nonna. The family has the good taste gene in spades.
We set up the wines, Italian and otherwise. As the folks rambled into the tasting we were able to talk to folks a little more in depth. Isabella came up to me and we had a little talk about opera. She was from Germany: not Isabella. Or was she in some kind of character for the evening. I?ve seen too many David Lynch films.
One lady, Virginia Lebermann, who has all kinds of things going on in Marfa, was in the process of building a new venue for art and music with a lounge attached. ?How would you like to curate the wine selection?? she asked. We set a time to visit the next day. Curate a wine list, they never asked me to do that in Dallas or Houston.
That evening, after the reception, we headed over to Maiya?s to meet a client for dinner. We walked into a warm room with enormous ceilings; the place was inviting and hopping. Plenty of the young folks from the arts foundations were settling in at the bar, just like NY, LA or Firenze. In this little old west Texas desert town. All very Rod Serling-like.
Maiya sent out plates of food; grilled radicchio, tartlettes, frisée, plates of pasta, profiteroles, and dense chocolate tortes. And we brought out wine after wine to taste with the client and Maiya. They liked us, they really liked us. I wasn?t in New Orleans or Napa, where I do get treated like I actually know something about Italian wine. I wasn?t in Dallas or Houston, where I have to often deal with a lowest common denominator routine. We were in Marfa, Texas, and they got it, from Kerner to Taurasi to Brachetto.
Next morning we met up with Virginia Lebermann to look over the new Thunderbird Lounge. Fire pits and adobe, tongue-and-groove and sharp, clean lines. They want me to curate the wine selection here? Let?s give it to them, see just how far we can push the envelope with Vermentino.
After all, we don?t come here looking for some worn out windmills. We came out to see what was in store for us in the future, here in flyover country. In a bright, stark, clear-cut way, we were shown what might be in store for us. If we keep our eyes, and our minds, open.
In the words of Bobby Z, "You don't need a weatherman to know which way the wine blows."
Hmm. I wonder if anyone even bothers to stop by any more, even if it's just to note my conspicuous absence.
Lots going on, folks.
Thanks to all who wished the Chef and me well last month on the anniversary of our wedding.
On a similar note, best wishes to Scott and Jill on their nuptials last weekend. Such a beautiful party.
And, of course, there's the wine goings on. Much to do here in Northeast Ohio, especially this weekend. If you felt let down by the Tribe's oh-so-typical performance this year, you can return to Jacobs Field in Cleveland this weekend, Nov. 2-4, for a much happier occasion. It's the Heinen's/WVIZ World Series of Wine , a perennial joy for wine novices and aficionados alike. It really doesn't get much better than the grand tastings ($70-$75 a person; purchase tickets in advance). More than 400 wines, 100-plus producers, stellar munchies, unparalleled people watching. You'll find lots of opportunities to speak with winery and distributor representatives to get the real dirt on what you're tasting.
It's hard not to over imbibe with so many wines to try, so take a cab or a limo or book a hotel room. Some downtown Cleveland hotels are offering packages specifically for the occasion.
This is easily the biggest wine event of the year for Northeast Ohio. Oh, and it benefits public broadcasting, as if you needed another reason to go.
One of New York?s most renowned and important collectors celebrated his 50th birthday in fine fashion recently at Bouley?s private ?Test Kitchen? here in New York City. David was at the top of his game for the twenty-some-odd courses that came out. Although the tables were set, it ended up being more of a cocktail [...]
This past week, after visiting a new client in Palafrugell, we spent an incredible night in a sleepy seaside pueblo called Llafranc, approximately 135 km northeast of Barcelona. It was a chance for us to get away for a night as a couple, far from tweets, status updates and cellphones!
This coastal section of Catalunya is known as the Costa Brava, stretching from Blanes, 60 km northeast of Barcelona, all the way to the French border. Costa in both Catalan and Castellano means ‘coast’, while Brava means ‘rugged’ or ‘wild’. In the 1950’s, under Franco, the government destined this area as the sweet holiday spot of Spain, hoping that substantial developments in restaurants and hotels would entice both the Brits and the French to spend leisurely vacations relaxing along the sandy shore. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your view, his vision was realized; and today, tourists swarm this section of Spain, half clad in flip flops and bathing suit bottoms, with a drink in hand.
As for myself, the Costa Brava holds a very special place in my heart. Not three years ago, I took my first dive into the Mediterranean on a chilly September evening, flooded with an eerie full moon’s light, swearing to myself that I would come back to live. Well, I may not have my rustic Spanish home along the sea quite yet, but at least I was able to smell the rich scent of lavender, pine and rosemary, alongside ceramic pots filled with brightly colored flowers. And as a heavy blanket of fog settled among the mountain valleys, as seen by the lighthouse just above our hotel last Monday night, I was happy to be back!
However, part of my glowing mood also related to my leisurely four hour dinner watching the waves crash along the shore. Having read in a local tourism magazine that our hotel, Hotel Llevant, runs one of “the best restaurants in the Costa Brava”, both Ryan and I couldn’t help but be a little skeptical. A native sharing their positive impression of a restaurant is one thing, but when a tourism magazine hypes up a restaurant, you can’t help but wonder how much they paid for the sparkling review. But in all honesty, they earned their stripes, and we had a lovely romantic meal among tables filled with snow white haired tourists from across Europe.
We started the evening with the wine of the week, 2001 Brut de Brut Gran Reserva Brut Nature Cava from Cavas Recaredo. Made with 60% Macabeo and 40% Xarel.lo, harvested from their three estates in the Alt Penedes: Can Romeu in Sant Sadurni d’Anoia, La Pedra Blanca in Subirats, and Can Rosell de la Serra in Torrelavit. Their old vines are planted in calcerious soils, without seeing a drop of pesticides or herbicides, and grapes are picked by hand. This is an elegant and feminine cava, which has aged gracefully, as seen by its delicate acidity, full body and long lemon comfit finish. With zero sugar added, as defined by brut de brut, it was also the perfect pairing for both our wild mushroom and shrimp salad with a thyme vinaigrette and the seafood paella. Plus, after the debacle at Monvinic, it was a pleasure to have great wine service in conjuction with a wonderful wine. But sadly, as far as I’m aware, this wine is only available in Spain for at around 25 euros retail. Hence, for now, we’ll just have to chalk this cava up as “a must taste when visiting Iberia”.
But allow me to digress for a minute and talk about the paella before I sign off. As odd as this may sound to you, we’ve had a total of 1paella in a restaurant over the past four years in Spain. One. Granted, Ryan has made some incredibe paellas both on the grill, and over our gas stove, but we’re always hesitant to order it when out on the town, as they’ve been known to be rather dry and bland depending on the location. Consequently, I wouldn’t call us experts on the topic, but I can say, that this particular paella, filled with squid, mussels, cigales and shrimp, was “f—–g awesome”, as quoted by Ryan. Unbelievably moist and delicious with a sweet caramelized flavor, it was one of the best paellas we’ve ever experienced…erm, well, at least better than the other one we tried in Madrid three years ago.
So, if you’re planning a trip to the northeastern coast of Spain, make sure you stop by Hotel Llevant to not only try this great cava along the rocky shore, but to eat an fantastic paella as well!
Insiders know that many of British Columbia?s most tantalizing food and wine experiences are found in the Fraser, Cowichan and Okanagan valleys. So wine, dine and taste your way through these food-centric areas. Discover boutique wineries, savour Aboriginal cuisine, feast...
The wines of Bulgaria have mostly been impressing me with their value but not their complexity, to say the least. This has become so universally true that I have coined the phrase "Bulgarian Soft" to refer to them in my notes. It was time to venture forth to one of the better restaurants in the country to see what throwing money at it would bring.
What follows is a detailed review of the restaurant, but only a generic review of of the wines. As always I save the wine specifics for the readers of my newsletter. It is free and it is emailed so there is no trees to kill, and it comes with a password to unlock the full data base of all of my wine tasting notes. You may sign up for it here.
The restaurant that received our patronage this evening was the Uno Enoteca in Sofia, Bulgaria. This was the first white linen restaurant we have had a chance to visit in Bulgaria, and we had a great time. The staff was attentive and friendly, and everyone did their best to ensure that we enjoyed ourselves.
Tecnorati
Vern Fisher of the Monterey County Herald came by one day and photographed us as we processed Chardonnay and Pinot Noir on the same day. Click 
Is it just me, or are we smack-dab in the middle of topsy-turvy times? I gotta tell you, it?s exciting, exhilarating and a jolt of terrificante in my espresso. Really a great time to be engaged in whatever it is that takes you to the top, fires you up, makes you feel the breeze in your face, the cold, biting wind and the last of the setting sun as we head away from summer. And with all this excitement there?s this slightly disorienting facet that has one looking to recalibrate and check for balance. Not. 
Like our social and political circuses that surround us, so the world of wine, and Italy, really seem to be in sync with this slightly out of register skew to things. Is this merely lucid dreaming or are the bathing beauties of Tuscany and Alto-Adige and Campania really vying for our attention? Or are they merely engaged in some kind of commercial cat-fight for our hearts and dollars? Happiness is a warm warehouse.
In the world in which I live, there isn?t a day that doesn?t go by that I don?t get a note or three from some Italian wine company wanting to get onto the Ark. The smaller companies don?t have the capital, the ability to pay their bills. Everybody is trying to fit their animals on our ship. We are desirable, like this is some kind of beauty pageant. Hey folks, winter is coming, time to put the swimsuits in the drawer. Pass the grappa and cuddle up on a couch somewhere and find something to do. Not the time to plant tomatoes.
Say cheese?
My faith has been restored. In Texas. In Italian Wine. In Italian wine in Texas. In Restaurants in Texas. And in the whole chasing after windmill exercise that we do when we attempt to bring the Word of Wine to the outer edges of civilization. I finally got my groove on, and in Marfa, Texas, no less. Word to Sancho: Flyover country has been secured and made safe.
My background in the arts didn?t have me getting all wiggly and wobbly as we spent some free time strolling among the buildings at the 
Cochineal 
We met 
A new day, and we find ourselves in front of Chef Maiya Keck of 
As I was cogitating what I would order, a woman stepped up to get her to go order. When I heard her voice I said to myself, ?That is the voice of Isabella Rossellini.? I then looked to her and made eye contact. Were those the eyes of Isabella Rossellini? It wouldn?t be out of the question that someone like her would be here, seeing as this was the week for the Marfa annual Open House. I looked her over and she seemed to resemble Isabella from one of the scenes of Blue Velvet. I would encounter her later in the day, when perhaps that little mystery would be solved.
The falafel at the Food Shark was one hellatiously good lunch choice. It reminded me of 
A block away was the 
We set up the wines, Italian and otherwise. As the folks rambled into the tasting we were able to talk to folks a little more in depth. Isabella came up to me and we had a little talk about opera. She was from Germany: not Isabella. Or was she in some kind of character for the evening. I?ve seen too many David Lynch films.
One lady, Virginia Lebermann, who has 
Next morning we met up with Virginia Lebermann to look over the new 
After all, we don?t come here looking for some worn out windmills. We came out to see what was in store for us in the future, here in flyover country. In a bright, stark, clear-cut way, we were shown what might be in store for us. If we keep our eyes, and our minds, open.
