Chocolate Eruption.

Duck Walk Blueberry Port

How is it that our love of chocolate is, by all accounts private or personal, still as plainly misunderstood as the adoration for handcrafted cigars? Let’s get one thing straight, I’m not a smoker, but why is it that this dark, luscious, yet snappy confection, has so much influence on why we use it for innumerable purposes? Some talk shows and cooking docs will explain this by pinpointing some human chemical in the brain that allows us to enjoy it without the expectation of weight gain; or rather, without the guilt of realizing there’s enough hydrogenated fat and cocoa solids in most candybars to kill any species profiled in a NatGeo exposé. What I’m most afraid of, is the idea that you can amalgamate chocolate with just about anything these days, with some results that are far less inspiring than common science has allowed per se, for things like breakthroughs in chemistry, or even advanced podiatry. Boring right? Consequently, there’s every reason to be more interested in something carnal. Here’s a counterpoint though; why above all else, would the common bonbon, or nonpareil benefit from certain “fruit-forward” varietals? The answer is somewhat logical, with the inherit shock administered in small doses. 

After touring a housewares dept. earlier this week, I came across a selection of chocolates, which to certain oenophiles, might be somewhat of a new curiosity. It’s no revelation to me, as to why critics might stampede all over  the concept of creating chocolate morsels that, if anything, share a certain fidelity with good wine. Though I have to wonder about the “how” aspects in the formation of products like these. Are they hollow? Could it be they’re soaked in some solution that naturally decreases their metric weight? Do these companies utilize firming agents like “calcium-lactate,” or “agar-agar” in the melted counter-folds? Molecular or not, it would be simple-minded of us to think that truffles and bars made from cacao masses were not made to be pared with wines that could be considered “well-rounded, ripe, or something of a fruit-bomb. Call me cocoa-loco, but I think it’s ok some of the time, but not for the entire span of conscious nibbling, scarfing, or sipping.

Toro Albala PX

Here’s the info: Try ruby ports, and if you can get it, a blueberry one. Duck Walk Vineyards will properly oblige you with such a thing. Aside from being pre-fortified in more ways than one, it’s surprisingly civil towards your more experimental “milk-or-nuts” chocolatiers. Some people think there is some benefit to white chocolate too, since it has found a lukewarm camaraderie with white zinfandel; but I remind those interested, that the white stuff is not exactly what you would call pure...and I stress that equally in the latter and the former. A good Pedro Ximenez, is endearing, but sometimes, it creates too much of a racy paring in itself; more so than some of the oozy, truffled cordials that need names like Grand Marnier, and Chambord to create those miniatures of confectionary liquor bottles you've handed-out on Valentine’s day. If you're treats lack potential, “Toro Albala” has a cream sherry that is better slated for caramel infused delicacies and those rich, amber toffees you always seem to forget about. Sure, I’ve heard there’s some chances to be taken with Rhone wines, light merlots and cabs; but as any opinion can be deferred, I state mine by saying that I would not want to experience the rot-gut aftermaths of mixing a potential dessert with 375ml or more, of something potentially viniferous. 

I can sooner deflect the appeal of chocolate than to say that it pairs well with wine even in the most general sense. Even beyond measure, if you are in no ways interested in fully absorbing the intellectual side of known grapes, smile, and carry on. There’s certainly nothing wrong, or displeasing about the consistent use of confections to burnish the appeal of the world’s most sophisticated beverage. Notes, or nuance, you’re getting it all, so don’t think I’m trashing the idea that these two indulgences cannot exist in some form of harmony. I would just prefer to see where either of them are going and visit them separately depending on what days I have off from work. 

Cacao is tough to contend with, it could benefit from an appellation...                                  

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com

Vermouth In Veritas

Cocchi Vermouth

I’m the last one who tries to dredge-up old curiosities. Some things, I agree, do not need anymore banal representation; or more importantly, any bit of hypertensive nostalgia that currently, our abecedarian youth is rendering into their own representative logo. Strange...because I can’t help but see future classes of pre-grads allowing posthumous pop-imagery to guide them in keeping the future world turning on-axis. I’m being too harsh, because I’m just as guilty for digging-up remembrances of past times, but the prime difference between me and those who are somewhat younger, is that I lend a little bit more exposure to the treasures of my childhood rather than someone else’s. Sure, I had an affinity for those old poster reprints you can still buy during the first week of a freshman college semester, but I know the “Le Chat Noir” and Salvador Dali are long dead; they leave, if anything, a more fatuous legacy now. In more important retrospects, do you remember the old Noilly Prat posters and the hat-conscious lady who smiles with a bourgeois grin for Martini & Rossi? Of course, because she has just as easily become a piece of sustainable Americana. Though the ads were foreign-born, we’ve understood the tangible enjoyments in these type of things; whether it’s communicative art, thirst, or both, these entities have become partially obscured. However, a deeper, much more delicious interest awakens. 

What if I said there’s an actual “Indication,” or “Denomination” of origin for Vermouth? Would you believe me? Faithless or not, you now have a sensible means of enjoying one thing that could dispel some age-old uncertainties. It’s not white, dry, or red exactly, but is accurately on the sweet side. “Cocchi” is not the style, but rather, the name of the producer whose resurrection of the drink, is based somewhere within a long-due anniversary; with recipes dating to 1891, questions as to why it has not outdone some obvious competitors, is mysterious enough for anybody. Amber in color, it delivers on some particularly unexpected nuances. Tobacco, chocolate, savory orange and bitter undertones regulate an otherwise sweet profile usually suggested in the Moscato grapes that temper its overall sultriness. Moreover, the varietal is from Asti, which is something unsurprising, considering the lure of Piedmont’s most notable “frizzante” sparkler. Would I call it a dessert wine ? No, please do not think of it as a “dessertif” either. Still, I might give off a certain air of pretension for saying it, but, above all, I, and the people who live in Torino Italy, would be furious if it was viewed as something of an after-dinner plaything. Practically speaking, it has a slight “Amaro” style finish, but the unholy labeling of it as a “digestivo” could be equally baffling. Credit to those who enjoy it on their own terms, regardless of naming.  

Aperol Bitters

The Cocchi brand mainly dwells in a golden-colored Apertivo that arrived in the U.S. as of late, but as “Americano” is significantly more quenching than anticipated, we can see where this is all going. The recent arrival of “Aperol” and other overseas breakthroughs, are crashing though North America’s ice cube barrier; ideally, some interesting stuff is being poured into the tube glasses of younger, but mostly unsuspecting contemporaries. To become obsessed by spritzy, liquor-driven concoctions of Prosecco and much sweeter tidbits, is nothing recent, but I would bank on the success of the resurgent Vermouth.                 

One relief, more or less, is knowing that our next of kin may actually see the appeal in the ancestral mention of “Manhattans” and someone aptly called, “Rob Roy.” I have good feelings about the future of re-occurring drinkables, but the driving force behind them, are nothing but fashionable ideas in the poorest of virtues. I’ve been eagerly informed that sweets, or bitters still do not account for the most popular agents used to make a cocktail. These days, the mischievous aspects of my ‘palate-to-brain’ function of thought, have me wondering what the problem would be in using something lawfully designated, but still twisting beyond some realm of time-honored craftsmanship and popularity.  

Let’s make a compulsory gesture to the good future of Vermouth.     

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com

The College Try.

Secateurs Red

The doldrums of inexpensive juice is something that generates a bit of personal remorse for many people. For whatever’s sake, a much more thrifty purchase generally means that you would be better off going to your local beer monger to have your growlers refilled. That’s the the most interesting predicament though, don’t you think ? Somehow, I believe it would not be advisable to detract from my father’s advice and buy wine when all one person has, is that “beer pocket” of which he always so passionately inferred. Now, believe it or not, I was once a college student, and I did not have any particular taste in beer or liquor; something else, that is equally unbelievable. However, what I did have, was a summer job that somehow paid for many indulgent weekends. Red or white, it didn’t matter. If the price was right, I could expect to be overcome with cross-sections of proper nuance and lukewarm haziness at best. Which is not to say there is really any room for comparison to my former peers, especially when they were caught bogarting cases of “Schlitz” every so often. I question the appeal of twenty-four helpings of any canned product, but something seems overly self-gratifying in the ‘lug-and-chug’ aspect of popular drinking; consequently so, since it has been this way for the past hundred years. Looking back, I think the rarest form that most people remember being accustomed to, can be represented in enjoying something worthwhile; that is, while not cashing-in your childhood savings bonds in return.

Some people snort at the idea of jugs and “Tetra-Paks” being the embodiment of “value” in popularized wine. However, this is only true to an extent, since most 3-to-4 liter varieties are actually ideal for poaching many different styles of ribs and other proteins. Oh, and those elongated “aseptic” containers ? Yes, they have their place in enviro-friendly markets, while scaling-down the idea that you can’t pour a soft, drinkable product out of a box that’s a polyblend of aluminum and plastic. Despite anyone’s illusions about inexpensive wine, artisans from across the pond are still churning-out affordable juice in glass bottles. Lucky times for those twenty-one and over, because it seems that access to those imprecisely named “College Wines” has increased along with some more accurate definitions. 

One piece of advice I give to anyone with a legal ID, is that countries like  Portugal, Chile, Argentina and South Africa practically have younger interests in check. It may not be the most direct sphere of influence, but if more virile, ladder-climbing minds want to enjoy the perks of contemporary winemaking, these Nations are showcasing a sense of optimism that only exists in youth. Granted, the old ideals are there, but it takes some understanding to recognize that wineries want money; of course, but your  chief responsibility is finding the one that is going to entertain your palate for the least amount of money. That’s why I always say to college students, “Think Portuguese.” I know, it sounds like a poorly generated tagline for the country’s travel bureau, but it’s true. Portugal has been keeping up in recent years with the allure of technology, but their winemaking prowess is still measured in an old-world sense of stamina. The country tends to make pure, expertly crafted wine, but the lack of advert-marketing has kept prices low and knowledgeable drinkers from breaking their credit lines. Sure, you may have never experienced a  “Tinta Roriz” or a “Touriga Nacional” before, but there’s no reason to let mystery shroud the appeal. Campolargo’s 2005 Bairrada Estate, has a blend of Tinta Roriz, Syrah and Merlot for right around $12. It’s fruit formidable with a depth and focus that is nearly a candidate for a $15 tag. “Aragones, Trincadeira, Alfrocheiro” and “Castelao” grapes find their way through Monte Das Anforas‘ regional “Alentejano,” a 2008 vintage which brings you red fruits, dark confits and so on, for a miserly eight dollars. 

Monte Das Anforas

But what about South Africa? No worry, they have been on a westerly campaign towards America to bring academic achievers phenomenal wine for what seems like meager returns. Unlike Portugal, South Africa has been pushing gratuitously towards influencing would-be dissenters into lifelong customers. Research and advertising isn’t something new, considering that as of 2010, more than 3,500 primary producers have been earning their fair share of profits and the general publicities. If numbers are essential, does $14.99  any thoughts? When I tell you there’s a French style red that lasts for three days or more when re-capped, does that equate any value? Of course it does, since Badenhorst Vineyards uses principle Rhone grapes and a little Cabernet Sauvignon in their 2009 “Secateurs Red” to deliver smacks of fruit, chocolate mineral, and yes, savings. For all my time and patience, it can justify enough pleasure to last for an entire weekend...that’s incredible. Maybe not for everyone, since the hardest thing to face when talking about countries, college and wine, is not how long your bottle will last, but how to keep everyone else from drinking it.   

Sure, I could have mentioned the countries of South America, but the popularity of the continent’s wine trade is pretty substantial. I tend to use up very little energy when I talk about their exports to students or graduates alike. Sure, you can safeguard your educational allowances especially with Argentinian fare, but Malbec is probably too popular now for younger, more intuitive minds. Funny, It doesn’t always boil down to what country is producing the cheapest, or rather, what a scholar can achieve when experimenting with varietals, but there’s plenty of reasons to forgo nights of beery excesses and boozy regrets with plummy cultivars. Somehow, some way, we look upon the proceeding generations to understand something beyond GPA’s PBR’s and MGD’s. 

I also remember my father saying, “Always spend money on something you like.”

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com

Greek To Me, But Not Everyone.

Skouras Agiorghitiko

I'm a Greek by every means, but maybe without a say in the sure-free doxy of things. Some have stared conspicuously at me with a fixed gaze, especially when digressive explanations about my Irish first name come into play. I don't mind it so much, but most people seem impressed about how I've handled this lifelong imbroglio of mine. Granted, language is the premiere sign of any culture, and yet, I am soon indebted to learn my own ethnic lexicon. So far, I can only recall sparse proverbs and maxims that are somewhat useful. If things weren't bad enough, I often say in some imprecise representation of self-parody: "Eimai Xelona!" Which may sound like a Peloponnesian battle cry, but in a cruel reality, it means, "I'm a Turtle." Now, I can guarantee this is not so, but it gives you an idea as to the outright shame I've encountered. However, I like to amuse my own mentality by talking about the stuff that makes perfect sense. "Tiropita Alonissos" anyone ? Maybe you would like a couple of "Keftedes," or some "Hirino me Kythonia?" I would think so, because I've made this symbolic Grecian fare many-a-time, and I can spin-out any one of these common specialties very easily. I've got the best "Gigandes" around, so if you have some drinkable Retsina at hand, I'm extending to you a sheer welcome on the part of my ancestries. Still, the culinary and linguistic expositions that I have, or will undertake, would not be complete without the proper libations; some of which, involve formidable winemaking that's more than "quaffable" for any of my family members.

Athiri, Robola, Agiorghitiko and Moschofilero...sorry to begin things this way, but your tongue is going to whirl in rhapsody a couple more times before you understand Greek wine. It is by reason, one of the most misinterpreted disciplines in European viticulture and continues to leave us with an outer-dimensional, yet feeble curiosity that you would only find in old astronomical texts. That's fine, but give-in to its mysterious grace for once, and discover that there's more to our craft than just simple mispronunciation. Again, I stress about the casual things in life and I promote moderation as the key point in everything; but as any psychologist will tell you, their job becomes more complex when we sew the intricacies of human understanding. So if anything, the need to follow my advice is somewhat applicable. I know the grapes very well, but I can tell you, there's nothing too intricate about these long-lived cultivars.

Take "Athiri" for example; a dry, crisp white that can actually pair well with lamb dishes. Maybe not a "kid lamb" but something of a full-grown, sinewy, but mature cut of anatomy that's been pole-roasted by humans with sore shoulders and tired, smoke-filled eyes. It's a lot of work for the food, but the wine shows remarkable restraint in terms of fruit and alcohol. Pithy lemon and gorgeous indications of terrain make these whites suitable for hot summer days where the meat is served hot and the mezedes are at imperatively lower temperatures. “Robola” is another focal point, insofar as the peachiness and smoky qualities will abide. It shows a remarkably dry palate, but with a fruitier edge than its more loamy brethren. In some of the lightly praised indigenous pork dishes, it’s more than anyone can ask for. “Moschofilero” is one that is not entrenched in normalcy though, considering the appeal of its aromatics alone. Given the white’s adaptability in becoming a food wine, or a distinct aperitif, it’s abundantly clear that it has perfumed, almost spicy characteristics that show favorably well before, or, after your aunt Tula’s orange cake. One thing I didn’t mention though, was the infamous “Retsina” which, if you gather, has a piney, citric disposition that’s tantamount to a good meatball. It’s the quintessential Taverna-side house wine that has probably bred the most unconsciousness about Greek viticulture. Sometimes sold in unforgiving quantities, it’s a nominal ingredient for sauteed paddlefish. Resinous maybe, cheap ? Yes...but if you need it, the stuff is indispensable.   

Boutari Moschofilero

The reds are not limited to Merlot, Cabernet and now, even Pinot Noir, but the one varietal that has earned a more stable relationship with your common epicurean is, “Agiorghitiko.” Which, if interest beckons, you have a gorgeous, equilibrium of weight that leans on a pretense of blackberries and spheroids of mixed red fruit. Some critics could sagaciously remark on its light, easygoing profile, but even on the lesser end, it’s an underdressed cameo for proteins that are strictly bone-in and braised beyond expertise. I wouldn’t go praising something like “Mavrodaphne” too soon if you have some Arni Souvlaki on spit, but if you’re looking to spend some downtime on the curtails of this sweeter, more lascivious variety, be prepared for candied fruit and chocoholic clairvoyance. 

I wouldn’t deter anyone from some of the garnet-robed specialties, but the impasse I experienced when learning of the market’s heavy concentration on whites, was something of a surprise. There are more grapes of either hue, or brilliance to discover; however, despite color, taste, or any concepts involving its availability, the enjoyment of Greek wines are somewhat deadlocked. The comforts of this mediterranean craft do not appear viable enough for consumers and notarizing gurus to offer up any realistic dialogical stimuli whatsoever. My thoughts retract and retrace between my own understanding of a foreign language and the people who should be using words to translate  something that’s been mysteriously vinous, but always exceptional. 

Seems like we’ve all been lax in the Alpha and Omega of things.

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com