Every one and their mom is having a rosé wine tasting this week. Its almost like the release of every year’s Beaujolais nouveau on exactly the third Thursday of November. Luckily for me though, I enjoy rosés far far more than I’ve ever taken to a Beaujolais nouveau (granted, I’ve only tried the cheapest kind).

So in honor of wine consumerism, a group of us headed down to our ecletic neighborhood wine store, Crush, to sample some wares in their annual War of the Rosés. There was a lively and energetic crowd, consisting mainly of young female Midtown drones come to drown out their petty sorrows with free wine (ok, I may have made the backdrop up, but forgive me a mite of jealousy for our salary differential). But our group did stand out a bit; instead of the collared shirt, black skirt and office pumps, I was sporting a bright red tshirt depicting squirrel violence, one of our group had a blue tubetop, the last one was wearing sneakers and brought a JanSport backpack. But hey, we’re used to it, dressing like students in the Upper East Side means you get used to shopkeepers looking either 1) suspiciously or 2) disdainfully at you.

One fact still remained though; none of us knew much about wine. We understood the concept behind roses. We knew they tend to be cheap, low quality wines, meant for being quaffed in copious quantities with a picnic basket full of food. Finally, we knew… or at least, thought, they were supposed to be light and fruity and all the other wonderful easy characteristics of a white zinfandel that didn’t just suck.

Well. We certainly didn’t get that.

Our first few glasses were disappointing; perhaps we were just expecting the wrong thing. Most of us enjoy dry wines, but… not in our roses. We moved on quickly to the next table, where upon my first sniff, I exclaimed.

“Buttered popcorn!”
“What? Are you crazy?”
“No! It’s hot buttered popcorn, theatre-style!”
“Huh… well I guess I can kind of see that.”

I quickly lost this good will though, after exclaiming “Buttered popcorn!!” for each of the next 3 wines.

“Dandan. Are you sure you’re not just hungry??”

We moved on, tried a few inoffensive, but unremarkable wines, none of which had that light fruitiness that we had come to associate with roses after years of acclimation. Spotting a couple bottles of sparkling rose in the corner, and remembering the wonders of the FRV 100 we had tried a couple weeks ago, we planted ourselves in front of the sparkly and readied ourselves for magnificence.

I took the first sniff, of the Strohmeier 2000 Schilcher Sekt Reserve we were served.

Hesitation. “Wasabi. Definitely. Wasabi.”

The other two girls stared at me like I had grown two heads, one of which was made out of green horseradish.

“No, seriously! Wasabi!”

They sniffed. Tasted. Mouths dropped open.

J: “This is… this is like an entire sushi meal in one.”
Me: “Isn’t it?! Isn’t it?! There’s that salty miso soup at the start, an intense buttery tuna belly in the middle, and then the long wasabi/soy sauce finish.”
A: “Crazy! You’re right! This is crazy!”

How could one sip of wine, hell, one sip of rose, taste of an entire sushi entree? I have no idea. There’s black magic in this. None of us could decide whether or not we actually loved it, but the novelty factor was so strong, it didn’t even matter. Hell, I could just skip dinner and drink a glass of this. It’s Violet Beauregarde from Charlie & the Chocolate Factory all over again!
Unfortunately, it was also the most expensive wine, knocking in at $26.99 with the discount for the day of wine tasting (normally $29.99). Even if a whole bottle would’ve ended up being too much weird wine, it would’ve been worth the cost just to videotape your friends faces as they try the wine. This is not your grandmother’s rose.

All in all, not a bad expenditure of a Thirsty Thursday hour. Even though we ended up not buying anything, the experience truly broadened our expansions in terms on roses (one friend couldn’t believe the geographical diversity represented by the wines that night — and here we thought roses only came from California).

Wines we tried at Crush
Jean-Paul “Big Boy” Brun’s 2007 Rosé d’Folie (Made from Gamay in Beaujolais)
“Cool Guy” Copain’s 2007 Le Printemps Rosé (Pinot Noir from California)
Gérard Boulay’s 2007 Sancerre “Sacrificer” Rosé (Pinot Noir from Sancerre)
“The Commander” Commanderie de Peyrassol 2007 Rosé (Syrah from Provence)
“The Ferocious” Fenouillet 2007 Rosé (Syrah from Rhone)
Lauverjat “Loverboy” 2007 Sancerre Rosé (Pinot Noir from Sancerre)
“Lean and mean” Lafond 2007 Tavel Rosé (Grenache from Provence)
Triennes “Go ahead and Try Me” 2007 Rosé (Cinsault from Provence)
Jules “Rules” 2007 Rosé (Grenache from Provence)
Palmina “You’re Mine-A” 2007 Botasea Rosé (Dolcetto and Nebbiolo from California)
Stringtown “Meantown” 2007 Rosé (Grenache from California)
“Strong arm” Strohmeier NV Schilcher Sekt (Sparkling Blauer Wildbacher from Austria)
“Vintage Strong arm” Strohmeier 2000 Schilcher Sekt (Sparkling Blauer Wildbacher
from Austria) (our favorite, and unfortunately, apparently only available from Crush while in the US).

As Neil informed you previously, wine tastings are made out of all sorts of win. What he neglected to talk about, however, is how much win you can find post-wine tastings, from the dregs of papers lurking around in your purse. Being the woman, and holder of all things that is material (though yes yes, thank you to the menfolk that hold the wallets when purses are not in use), I ended up with the papers indicating our favorite choices.

They’re not too illuminating if you’re actually interested in the wines, but fairly entertaining regardless.

We didn’t manage to try all the wines there (I was determined, but my compatriots are far more rational than I), but from the ones we did try, we went in numerical order, roughly. Thus, you can see, in paper form, with what amazing swiftness we managed to go from sobriety to inebriation.

I love the last page, where there are notes on 4 wines; consisting of “!!!!”, “whee”, “whoa!”,  and “DD likeys”.

Haha, but all in all, it was a lovely wine tasting, I’ve discovered that my eno-childhood contained far too many bursting Starbusts-type fruity explosions that most of these French wines tasted very boring & watery to my palate. Ah well, children always did like bright colors.

There were still a couple gems that stood out, of which one, the FRV 100 (try pronouncing it in French, it becomes effervescent), was actually affordable ($19.99/btl) and truly the star of the party. I’ve never had a rose like it, and I might never again (once I’ve opened the one bottle I bought). The others were in the $40-70 area, a range that I hope never to approach on a general consumption level.

Wine tastings rock so hard. For a really low buy-in, you can try a diverse assortment of wines, talk to people who actually know things about wine to pick up terminology (useful if you’re interested in calling wines something beyond “dry” and “sweet”), and get pleasantly drunk. Usually at like five in the afternoon. Oh, and usually there are hors d’oeuvres.

So when one of Dandan’s friends proposed doing exactly that at Cercle Rouge in Tribeca, we jumped. Like most wine tastings, this one had a (innocuous) gimmick: all the wines were organic and French (I seem to recall being told that there would be Italian wines too, but I don’t recall seeing any).

There were around 80 wines, with a pretty good distribution of regions whose names I really ought to recognize. I took notes (I always take notes at wine tastings so that I don’t look so much like a jackass who’s just there to get toasted), but they’re somewhere either in Dandan’s apartment or in the trash.

In summary: there was a lot of good wine, but I noticed a few trends: there were a lot more blends then I would have expected, there were several rosés that people were taking seriously and totally not just drinking because they were 19 (in fact, the sparkling FRV 100 Gamay was possibly the best wine we had), and, most telling of the difference between the French and the American palates, I found that a lot of the wines lacked any “punch.” There wasn’t a single wine I tried that offended me, but out of the few dozen I tasted there were only a few that were particularly distinct. Do I expect wine to taste too much like citric acid and Kool-Aid? Was I in the wrong mindset? Was I drunk? On all three counts, the answer might be “yes.”

Whatever the case, the vintners were enthusiastic and informative, the hors d’oeuvres were worth the $5 by themselves (steak tartare… mmm). After most of our modest party had hit their limit, the authors of this column squeezed in a bonus round or two, and then we all wandered down the street to the affiliated wine shop where we bought a few bottles of the better stuff. We hoofed it, mildy intoxicated at six in the evening, over to Chinatown where we devoured a platter of Vietnamese food and then rather a lot of espresso. I seem to recall that most of the wine we bought was consumed over Pictionary later that evening.

If that’s not a fine day, then I don’t know what is.

One of the jokes between Neil & I is that we’re the exact same person. It can be generally taken that if I enjoyed a particular food or drink, Neil would probably enjoy it also, and vice versa. In fact, watching us eat can be rather disturbing, as our plates tend to become communal property. Anyhow, this near-universal principle hit a roadblock at our recent wine tasting at Wagner Vineyards by Seneca Lake in upstate New York wine country. Admittedly, our tastes in wine haven’t been as similar as our tastes in beer (and I would argue that my taste is cocktails is quite a bit less cavity-licious than his), but we’ve never been at such a complete disagreement before.

After a couple ho-hum tastings of their reds offerings, we got into the better stuff — Rieslings, Gerwutztraimer, etc. Our first taste of their white wine was of a rather obscure grape, the Niagara grapes, crossed between Concord and white Cassady grapes and created in the same region its grown. A sniff yielded intense intense fruity scents, mainly of grape juice. It tasted exactly like it was scented. Amazing!!

Me:” WOW! This is… this is truly delicious! O_O”
Neil & other friend: “… This… this is really weird.” *spits it out*

Read the rest of this entry »

After landing in the Canadian side of Niagara Falls, we found ourselves in a bit of a cultural wasteland. To be more precise, we found ourselves on a strip of urban ugliness that called itself, “Las Vegas North”. Of course, what with the snow, ice and other non-Las Vegasy embellishments, the town might have been better termed “Reno North”. So we got out of there as soon as we had our fill of the falls, and went on to a quaint town called Niagara-on-the-Lake, with the byline - “the loveliest town in Ontario”. We drove alongside the Niagara River and up to the mouth where it met with Ontario Lake, where Niagara-on-the-Lake is situated.

This area is also the Niagara region wine country, with 18 wineries located in the general vicinity. To cut to the chase — we didn’t stop at any of the wineries. Buuut, that’s simply because none of them were open! Makes sense — several of the smaller Finger Lakes wineries were also closed and that area is generally much more well-known in terms of wine production.

As much as one can learn of wineries from the road, it appears that the Niagara-on-the-Lake wineries produce mainly ice wine and Riesling. The wineries are packed pretty close together (in fact, I bet you could do a biking wineries tour pretty easily), and come lined in a row all the way up Niagara Parkway and down Lakeshore Road, as can be seen in this nifty little map produced by a local bed & breakfast (of which there are lots in Niagara-on-the-Lake).

Antonio Vivaldi’s Bed & Breakfast

The scenery along this trail is lovely (I can only imagine it gets better during warmer times), and there’s alot of stopping points to jump out of your car and walk on the shore of Lake Ontario (or, if you come during March, you can walk on Lake Ontario), or watch hawks flying over the Niagara River gorge.

I’m probably done with Niagara Falls during my lifetime, but Niagara-on-the-Lake might warrant another trip, perhaps several years down the road. And then maybe I can write a post about actual wine, from actual wineries ;).

People keep blogs so that they can confess the details of their lives to strangers, right? Well, here’s my confession: I don’t know much about wine.

White is cold and red isn’t. Most pinots beat most merlots. California is better than France is better than New Zealand is better than California (Wait, I forgot South Africa). Grapes and all that.

Make no mistake, there’s wine I like and wine I don’t like, and I definitely wouldn’t categorize myself as “not a wine person” — but at a restaurant I always try to find someone better-qualified to order wine.

Read the rest of this entry »