The first thing most people over the age of twenty-five think of when you ask them to name a song about wine is probably UB40’s Red Red Wine, which is ironic because they’re all totally drinking beer in the vid for that tune.

In a similarly ironic case of music-meets-wine creative worlds colliding, the band I’ve been playing in for… well… for a long time (some of you will remember us as the dudes who recorded a rock version of the Snow Miser/Heat Miser song, and a reggae/dub take on the Oompa Loompa Theme – we’re kinda into the holidays), has just released a video (available for your viewing pleasure below, after the jump) for a tune titled Wine Kissing Days.

The ironic part: the song is about the social pleasures of sharing wine (a near-constant theme among these virtual pages), was filmed in part at local PA producer Chaddsford Winery (which has been profiled here) BUT… apart from playing bass on the tune I had nothing whatsoever to do with it. More on that in a minute or two. Also, since we know that the music played during wine tasting impacts the qualities that people recall about the wine, if I were a tasting room manager I’d buy a few copies (you know, like, 10,000 or so) of this song. Just sayin’.

Anyway, you can hit up iTunes to grab the tune (and the album from which it comes, “Tricky, Seabass & the Hun” – and damn, it sure makes me feel old to even talk about the conceit of an album at this point), but I’m giving away a copy of the new Steve Liberace Band CD (another near-ancient conceit!) to three lucky randomly-selected commenters!…

Back to the irony:

Wine Kissing Days has lyrics that evoke a wine-tasting note (“tobacco, & leather, & pepper I’ve found”) but I had zero lyrical responsibility for the tune – our head-honcho-singer-songwriter Steve Liberace happens to live about one mile as-the-crow-flies from Chaddsford Winery in PA.

The band has played events at Chaddsford before, and Steve has done his fair share of hanging out there drinking vino (and hanging out at his home drinking their vino), and basically the song is about the general life-lovin’ positive vibes you feel when getting buzzed on good wine with good friends (for more on Chaddsford, check out my interview with winemaker Eric Miller, and the feature on PA’s vintage-of-a-lifetime 2007 reds; for more SL Band, check out the vid for “When You Turn Blue” which is a slightly darker song, being about drowning someone and all that).

The vid for Wine Kissing Days was produced, filmed and directed by the intrepid team at AverageEnthusiast.com and features portions captured on-location (during a rare November snowstorm) at Chaddsford Winery as well as some live action of the band “rocking out” as my daughter likes to term it. For more of the band-meets-wine thang, check out my Summer Solstice music festival field-test of boxed wine, and the 20-year Merlot retrospective and on-the-back-patio gig at Peconic Bay Winery in Long Island). While I’m pretty sure that the tee-shirt-over-long-sleeves fashion choice will eventually come back to haunt us, I’m also pretty sure that the MTD bass guitar I’m playing will always look better than I will.

As for the giveaway:

Leave a comment telling us about your favorite wine-related or wine-inspired tune, and in one week I will randomly select three winning comments at random whose authors will each receive a CD copy of Tricky, Seabass & the Hun.  Enjoy the vid – bonus points if you can find the lady heading to the ladies room behind the band in the live shots…

Cheers!

Copyright © 2011. Originally at Worlds Collide In New Wine-Related Music Vid (And YOU Can Win Some Free Tunes!) from 1WineDude.com - for personal, non-commercial use only. Cheers!

Today we will speak of current NFL coaches, former baseball catching stars, and Jedi Master Yoda.  And wine – almost forgot about the wine…

See, I’ve been getting a little bit of flak over how publicly I’ve worn my NFL team allegiance colors on 1WD. And so, true to form, I’m going to go deeper into that forest today. Because at heart, I am a stinker.

For days now I’ve been rubbing the almost-scabbed-over wounds of the Steelers dismal showing of a season opener against the hard-hitting Baltimore Ravens, because part of the healing process for sports fans after such a loss is wallowing in your pain and misery as long as reasonably possible, taking in as much about the heart-wrenching as you can, before letting it all (ok, most of it) go. Real fans know what I am talking about here – sure, the Steelers romping all over the Seattle Seahawks last Sunday salved the aching a bit, but c’mon – it was the Seahawks.

And so it was in that wallowing-mode capacity that I came across this little ditty of a quote by Steelers coach Mike Tomlin, when asked about the dreadful day one loss:

“I think the people that know and compete in this league understand that there is a fine line between drinking wine and squashing grapes. Obviously, last weekend we were grape-squashers.”

Ah, the sanctimonious pleasure of shared pain! Tomlin’s it-makes-sense-until-you-reread-it, Yogi-Berra-worthy reference to vino got me thinking about the difference between drinking wine – really drinking it and appreciating it, I mean – and throwing it down our gullets the same way we in the U.S. do with most of our food; which is to say, devouring it so quickly that it looks as if we’re worried someone will come along and snatch up our plates if we don’t clean them off within 4.2 nanoseconds…

In the former scenario, we’re taking the time to actually pay attention to a wine (whether we love it or not), so that we’re learning – about the wine, the grape behind it, the place behind it, the people behind it – even if what we’re learning is that we don’t personally care for those flavors, tastes, grapes or places (or people). In the latter, we’re letting the wine’s messages pass us by at lightening speed (and probably setting ourselves up for a date with a Pepto Bismol bottle latter – though I could have used that kind of bottle after that belly-acher of a Steeler’s opener, booze or no booze).

In my experience, the people who tell me that they could “never” learn to appreciate wine are often the ones who look at eating as a race against the clock. It’s not that they lack the ability – because the ability is, simply put, not all that difficult to acquire – it’s simply that they lack the the attention span.

Which is one of the reasons, I think, why people turn to scores and use them even without context to purchase things like wine – a short-cut path that seems like a wicked cool secret at first but will probably lead you to vinous misery in the long run. Can’t you just hear Yoda chiming in now, warning you against the powers of the Wine Dark Side… “I cannot teach him. The boy has no patience!”

Of course, Jedi Ghost Obi-Wan Kenobi’s famous reply is “He will learn patience…”  Which is exactly what we need to do if we want to be drinking fine wine, instead of performing the equivalent of shoving our mouths full of squashed grapes – exercise our patience.

It’s tempting, as I sample ever-increasing sh*tloads of wines, to speed things up and rate/score with nearly reckless abandon just to try to get through the backlog of wine samples being sent to me.  But I’m gonna listen to my inner Jedis, and not give into that Dark Side.

Cheers!

Copyright © 2011. Originally at Are You Drinking Wine, Or Just Squashing Grapes? from 1WineDude.com - for personal, non-commercial use only. Cheers!

Sam Argetsinger was leading a slow but determined downhill walking pace, flanked by his two dogs who had done the woodchuck hunting before we’d arrived. He is stout, and affable, and his wide smile accentuates a face of weathered features. Sam’s vineyard is small, relatively steep, and on the morning of May 8 it was playing host to a series of alternating bursts of warming sunshine from above, and strong cold breezes off of New York’s Seneca Lake.

A group of thirty-odd wine writers and bloggers descended onto the area as part of TasteCamp East; I was part of a dozen-or-so who were taking a morning tour of Sam’s vineyard on the second day of our trip. We had already, in a mere half-day, tasted dozens and dozens of Finger Lakes wines, some of which have been sourced from Sam’s vineyard.

“The other thing about woodchucks,” added Sam, stopping briefly and turning to face a small number of our group walking closest to him, and uttering the words without a modicum of sarcasm, “is that they’re delicious.”  We laugh, of course – most of us aren’t farmers and none of us has ever tasted woodchuck.

“Must taste like chicken!” one of us says.  Sam’s response – again without hesitation and appearing completely genuine: “Naw – it tastes like muskrat, mostly.”  Sam then briefly explains how woodchuck gut can be employed to create a fine-sounding drum skin.

Welcome to the Finger Lakes, folks, where the water – carved out of the land like the claw marks of angry gods by retreating glaciers eons ago – runs long, narrow, and deep, like the traditions and views of the region’s people.

It would have been easy to joke that a Fingers Lake red is the best thing to pair with that woodchuck (or muskrat), given the past history of red wines from the region.  And there certainly is nothing about Sam’s vineyard that would suggest anything other than the belief that This Is Riesling Country: from the steep plantings facing the water, to the heightened amplification of every nuance of viticulture – aspect, elevation, light exposure, ripening… we might as well be in the Mosel, right?

Exactly what you’d expect of the Finger Lakes.

That is, until you taste the wines that aren’t Riesling.  Until you taste the region’s new reds…

Times are (slowly) changing in the Finer Lakes, and red wines lovers need to pay more attention to the region now, especially if their tastes run towards the European style of balanced, high(ish)-acid reds.

Seeing red in the Finger Lakes?  Are we crazy?

You probably won’t think it’s such an insane idea once you try the wines. And you need to bear in mind that the logic behind making fully ripe and balanced red wines in a cool-climate area has hundreds of years of practical evidence behind it.

“It’s only in the U.S. that the situation seems reversed,” Morten Hallgren, winemaker at Ravines Wine Cellars (and customer of Sam Argetsinger, whose Riesling Hallgren uses in a promising single-vineyard bottling) told us during a portfolio tasting at Ravines’ lakeside tasting room. “In the rest of the world, it’s the cooler climates that are known for excellent fine wines, and only in the warmer climates where fruit-driven, everyday drinking wines are made.”

In a bit of balanced, high-acid counterpoint to the West Coast’s low-acid, bombastic reds, Hallgren offers an earthy, spicy Pinot Noir that doesn’t lack in mouthwatering fruit or mouthwatering acidity, the latter coming from the cool climate ripening, the former from lyre-trained trellising that increases the surface area of light exposure for the grapes by about fifty percent.  His Cabernet Franc is lush without being plush, fruit-driven without losing a touch of elegance.

There are, for sure, still some bad, bad, gawd-awful, pour-them-down-the-drain reds being made in the Finger Lakes, many ruined by an oak treatment that obliterates the lovely fruit characteristics and potential with a blitzkrieg of smoke.  Others handle things in a more balanced way – and if balance is what you’re after, you’d do well to check out the reds on offer from Shaw (a focused and structured Cabernet Sauvignon), Red Newt (full and rich Cabernet Francs) and Red Tail Ridge (a surprising and lively Pinot Noir that could pass for Oregon in a blind tasting).

The reds of the Finger Lakes are still the icing on the cake of their Riesling, but just as it’s folly to write off the region’s reds, it’s also not a smart play to assume all of its whites are superb.  Even the region’s premier and most consistently good producer, Hermann Wiemer, is capable of the oddball white among the majority of its lineup of clean, intensely focused and lovely Riesling bottlings.

Few whites where as bad as the worst reds, but many of the best reds were just as good as the best whites – and that is not a situation that most wine lovers would be expecting to find themselves in when touring the producers who call this beautiful area home.

Among the whites, several producers showed well in the Riesling department, such as Wiemer (especially the single vineyard offerings), Anthony Road (their “MRS” Berry Selection late harvest is a beauty), Heron Hill (Ingle vineyard Late Harvest), and and Lamoreaux Landing (whose `09 Red Oak vineyard offering was one of the most balanced I’d ever tasted from the Lakes).

You might think that giving a cursory view to Finger lakes whites, while waxing (sort of) poetic on its reds sounds as crazy as eating woodchuck (or muscrat).  But let’s see you try some of the finer examples before you pass too much judgment.

I’ll forgive you if you still pass on trying the muscrat.

Cheers!

Copyright © 2011. Originally at Not Just Riesling Country: The Finger Lakes’ Case for Cool Climate Reds from 1WineDude.com - for personal, non-commercial use only. Cheers!

“A bottle of good wine, like a good act, shines ever in the retrospect.” – Robert Louis Stevenson

Stevenson had it right about special wines being eminently memorable, though he forgot to add the part about how wine tasting, like a hot date, owes so much to anticipation.

And as much as I like to think that I am inching ever closer to the Zen mystery, it’s really difficult not to put expectations on a tasting in which magnums of 1995 Champagne and Graham’s Vintage Port (1977), as well as bottles of 1981 Vieux Chateau Certan, take second billing.

Which is exactly what happens when you have a bottle of (genuine) 1929 Haut-Brion in the lineup.

That’s because the 1929 Haut-Brion is one of those extremely rare triple threats: world-class producer, renowned vintage (before every other release was deemed “vintages of the century” in Bordeaux) and rare old wine (in decent condition).

Or so we had hoped, anyway.

As it turns out, that fabled bottle that had me (and several other guests at the Columbia Firehouse restaurant in old town Alexandria, VA) buzzing with anticipation last week had apparently leaked at some point in it’s 81-year history.

Uh-oh.

We (a group of about 15 people) were assembled as the hand-picked guests of my buddy Jason Whiteside, DWS (Washington Wine Academy instructor, friend of the Dude and frequent guest poster here) to celebrate the achievement of his WSET Diploma in Wine & Spirits (a pre-req for entrance into the Masters of Wine program).  It’s a difficult and hard-earned achievement, well-worthy of opening some special bottles.  As our generous host put it after inspecting the most special of that night’s bottles, “this wine could be deader than Lincoln”…

Haut-Brion, of course, has been special for a long time, having first come to the attention of the wine-loving public outside of France in the 1600s – or so goes the story as taken from the diaries of Samuel Pepys, who on April 10, 1663 recorded his first encounter with HB:

“…a sort of French wine called Ho Bryan, that hath a good and most perticular taste that I never met with.”

Haut-Brion kept up its reputation into the 1800s, being classified as a First Growth in the oft-cited but never-intended-to-have-any-staying-power 1855 classification of Bordeaux wines (the only producer outside of the Medoc to be included in the top tier).  Most  modern critics agree that Haut-Brion has been consistently stellar since the mid-seventies.

1929 is widely regarded as a special and superb vintage for Bordeaux, and it’s been speculated that the dry and warm conditions that year created an almost “cooked must” situation during fermentation that is partly responsible for the longevity and aging potential of that year’s wines.  Rainfall was about half of its normal amount that year, and the temperature sum was 103% of the average at the time.  According to HB itself:

“A hot, extremely dry year, the driest since the start of the century. The juices were very concentrated and the wines characterized by an enormous richness of tannin. Wines slow to mature, but with exceptional structure.”

Now, you’re patiently waiting for the tasting note on that `29, right?

But the theme of this article is anticipation, remember?  So, you’re gonna have to wait.  I know, I’m incorrigible…

Retail prices of the 1929 Haut-Brion reflect its rarity and the general perception of the vintage’s quality.  Expect to spend somewhere around three grand USD for a 750ml bottle (if you can find one).

It was a long lead-up of excellent wine and food pairing courses to the “main event,” and we tasted several stellar wines from Jason’s stash; not that you care, but here’s the list (you see, not unlike those really lengthy and dramatic Catholic weddings, I’m all about keeping you as long as possible from the “consummating act” of this article):

• Bollinger NV Special Cuvee Brut (tasted from magnum) – Green apple, bread, and a ridiculously luxurious finish
• 1995 Pierre Moncuit Champagne Blanc de Blancs Grand Cru (tasted from magnum) – Sour red apple dominated, still very fresh & fruity
• 2005 Domaine William Fevre Chablis Grand Cru – Refined and smooth, with citrus & tons of minerality; beguiling, really, apart from some unpleasant reduction notes
• 2006 Bouchard Père et Fils Santenay – Stellar; very “feminine” with a light touch of bright red cherry fruit and smoke
• 1981 Vieux Chateau Certan – Major-league earth, cigar & tobacco, with a killer palate of savory soy sauce
• 2002 Geyser Peak Reserve Alexandre Meritage (tasted from double magnum) – A little heavy-handed but I found it quite solid with good black fruit notes and not too extracted; it was clearly despised by a majority of my Francophile dinning partners, however, for its blatant “California” / New World style
• 1977 Graham’s Vintage Port (tasted from magnum) – Dried fig flavors were prominent, but it lacked the velvety texture you’d expect, and was very “spirty”on the palate

Which leaves us with that `29 HB.

Fortunately, the tales of this wine’s demise were greatly exaggerated.  Improbably, the wine was not only still drinkable, it was downright lively and it still had perceptible fruit.  At 81 years young.  I know, right?!??

Here are my (expanded) tasting notes:

“Visibly aged but still has some shine. The first sniff is a huge whiff of crushed walnut shell that I will probably never forget and will clearly be a reference point for any long-aged wines that I taste from this point onwards.

Seems impossible but there are notes of dried cherry fruit still on the palate once the walnut action calms down, and the fruit is very pure.  A hint of soy on the nose, with smoke and some game, followed by truffle.  Palate is very, very savory and the mouthfeel is really smooth.  “Elegant” and “stately” come to mind.

The most improbable aspect of all is the acid. This wine, at 80+ years on, has enough acid that it could easily be paired with food, which is by any practical measure a chemical miracle. I’m shocked – and would have considered it an impossibility after seeing the crumbled cork and leakage when the bottle was opened.

Still strong after about 20 minutes, but the savory notes are beginning to take over.  Will be gulping the last remnants down before it turns into vinegar in the glass.”

And I did, in fact, gulp the remaining bit down in one big slurp – better to do it then, I figured, and enjoy it, than to wait until it was nigh-undrinkable.

I’m tempted to say that this was a once in a lifetime experience, but I think that Jason has a second bottle in even better condition… so I plan on staying on his good side for the foreseeable future…

Cheers!

Copyright © 2011. Originally at Tasting A Legend: Going to Head-to-Head with Haut-Brion 1929 from 1WineDude.com - for personal, non-commercial use only. Cheers!

The event was billed The Grü V Olympics, the idea being that each blogger scored the wines according to a predefined system with points awarded for color, clarity, aroma, and so on.  The culmination of all of the scoring across all of the wine blogger judges would then result in the declaration of a ‘gold medal’ winner.

I dig Gruner Veltliner, because it’s capable of startling complexity in its aromas and often includes spice, citrus and exotic vegetable notes.  But I really dig Gruner because it pairs extremely well with the large and complicated salads that so many U.S. restaurants serve as entrees these days.  Too bad most of those same establishments almost never carry Gruner on their wine lists…

Anyway, like all gold medal style competitions, the Grü V Olympics results should be taken with a grain of salt, because the field was limited in both the wine and judge selections.  I should note that none of the wines in the Grü V Olympics really floated my palate boat, but my fave of the bunch did make ‘gold’ in this case.  Having said that, there are definitely better Gruners to be had out there, though the gold medal winner here will treat you well enough and is a good introduction to what the variety has to offer.

You can check out the official Grü V Olympics results here.

Cheers!

Copyright © 2011. Originally at Final Results Are IN for the Grü V Olympics from 1WineDude.com - for personal, non-commercial use only. Cheers!