Friday, September 30, 2011

The Pinot G's and B's

Elena Walch P.G.

What’s your latest malefactor? Hmmm...does it have something to do with Pinot Grigio? Excuse my untimely rudeness, but there’s no escaping the fact that the stuff is being lawlessly bogarted. I can plainly see it now: Stink-eyed housewives that do not usually venture beyond the parallels of Santa Margherita say, “What does he mean?” Well, despite this slant objective of mine to talk about the things that bother me, we’ll just assume for the time being that I’m referring to all white wines in general. Why do I say this? Because North America has too long reveled in its ungrateful fixation for a   varietal that has, in my opinion, not given anything back to its eager fan-base. If you only knew who P.G.’s forefathers were before it became Italy’s ‘La Aqua Seconda.’ Undetected by consumers, the little scapegrace’s parents are still lampooning as Pinot Noir. Shocking? No, but what is, might be the cultivar’s recent syndication in radio and television. Equally as alarming, we are compelled to be witnessed to the bearing-down of wine lists, and the corruption of hardworking matriarchs. 
There is a solution though...it’s called Pinot Blanc...“Balderdash” you say! However, I am being serious though. It would seem odd, almost unpredictable of me to actually condone a relative spawn of a grape that I have very little respect for. Take it as a complement though, since I do not always disagree with things on the Grigio scale, I just happen to experience the same undue malaise for producers who emphasize a massive output.Don’t get me wrong, one of my favorite whites is that of Elena Walch, for which I would not soon forget its attractive balancing act of fruit and brightness, but alternatively, I’m trying to support an underdog here. 
Mission Hill Pinot Blanc
“The Blanc” is your sure bet, whether or not you tend to go for the “Pinot Gris” that now underlies an eager host of Oregonian and Californian producers. I like it too, but let’s call it white, and not gray, so this way, we’re not developing any uncertainties here. Alsace has its fare share of Pinot Blanc, but it does not mean that Canada hasn’t been up to some helpful shenanigans. Mission Hill likens the grape to a somewhat heady, but not weight-laden white that suggests uber-ripe stone fruits and plashes of nectarine. If you’re dedicated to Thai cuisine, it’s a sure-fire directive to certain decadence. Want a Gris from France? More specifically, that somewhat Germanic part of the country in the Northeastern sector? Sure, look at Frederic Mallo’s label and wonder why there’s a jovial stork carrying a baby with a similar expression. It’s surname reads: “Special Delivery.” And why not ? It’s certainly not infantile, but suggests young, crisp apples and honeyed tree fruits. 
I know Alsace is responsible for the majority of great Blancs, but it doesn’t mean there’s any less merit for the grape in Italy’s “I.G.T.” stronghold. Simply known as the “Bianco” in likable Pinot, its taking a little while for us to recognize its place in the domestic wine chiller. “Weisseburgunder” is also another item to be curious about, since German tourists may wonder why local wine shops have been somewhat lax in their assessment of how profitable it could be. I can see why, since most Gewurztraminers and plushy Rieslings  are dominating a market that provides cheap, accessible wines that conform to our long-term obsession towards casement meats and fatty sausage.  
Funny...there’s nothing like a Pinot Grigio for braising knockwurst. 

Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team
Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com  

Thursday, September 15, 2011

Indian Influx.

Brio Shiraz

It takes an almost unreasonable amount of butter and cream to make a good “Dal Makhani.” You also need tomatoes, black lentils and a slew of fresh ground spices and other sundries. Everyone has their own process, but I like a little more chili powder in mine, which could be odd to others who like it without the sense of fiery alarms. It’s supposed to be a creamy, savory indulgence that takes its lycopene base somewhat further than our “Alla Vodka” uncertainties. I am aware that every curry dish is different depending on whose grandma is at the helm of a hot stove; but the best part of that, is the standard to which we conform her traditions. Which nonetheless, are always personal interpretations. Standards are funny conjectures though, especially those that are sometimes set out by regional laws, or even the modesty of indigenous forms of savoir-faire. Granted, all this talk about home-bound culinary rites and delicious entrĂ©es, have me wondering what the hell to serve with Indian food tonight.
How about Indian wine? Would that be so wrong? For the threat of anyone’s own personal politics getting in the way, here’s something you didn’t expect... It’s actually really good. Pretentious, if not close-minded, ensuing snorts and nasal snickering are imminent. Even if the public would paint me as a daredevil, there’s no point in anyone wasting their oxygen only to cackle from the interior of their nose. Besides, the confluence of Pinot Grigio either bold, or benign, that’s consumed in the U.S, only accounts for our inability to  utilize selective reasoning and at least one of the periodic elements that enable life on this planet. 
Maybe I should point out sooner than later, that Merlot is not part of the equation tonight. Rather, some of the underdog varietals should be showcased in this play of traditions. Why? Because we’re tired of assuming that the one grape everyone has seen next to Tandoor specialties, or a Bazar of Chaat starters, is going to have total jurisdiction here. What I am willing to say, is that the rich, red clay soils, similar to that of Australia, create wine that has all the equilibrium one needs from pristine fruit and a marketing theme entrenched in musical terminology. The “Brio:” A Shiraz that’s juicy and invigorating, with blackberry-plum, cracked pepper and chocolate making pretense on the “Good Earth” winery’s future promise. Their “Basso” Cabernet is something of a marvel too, considering it does not lean too graciously towards Cabs that underlie stark currant fruit and scathing oak. Rather, the essence of cola, cocoa bean and mocha are contrast to dollops of boysenberry. The “Aarohi” Blanc is just as austere; with a bevy of yellow fruits, sweetgrass and tousled hay, there’s almost a sense of uncertainty as to why anyone bothers to chill whites which would be otherwise deemed as crisp and flinty. 
Aarohi Sauv Blanc
For a country without any sort of appellations system, or denominational laws, the wine is nothing far from a proper anomaly. Aside from the traditional European cultivations, March is usually ideal for the harvesting, considering the threat of monsoons in the traditional old-world, new-world timeframe of the fall season. Also, harvesting takes place ideally during cooler weather conditions, whereas the crushing of said grapes rallies winemakers to use warmer weather as a viticultural marker. However, great  appeal lies 120 miles Northeast of Mumbai in the “Nashik” valley, where Good Earth, among other producers, have laid their claim. Introducing North America to Indian wine has been somewhat of a gamble as of recent, due to the lack of consumer thresholds; but with time, the appeal will inevitably grow stronger as other emergent nations have proven. 
I cannot say whether the parallel between my trademark Vindaloo and a bottle of Indian Viognier will ever exist, but I’m hoping to see it happen sometime soon. I could imagine having the right varietal around for every traditional dish that I painstakingly try to master, but even with a lifetime of cooking, I cannot say if I’m parlaying new traditions, or just emphasizing my own. Regardless, I know there’s something for every “Bhel Puri,” or “Masala Dosa,” so don’t think we’re disrupting the natural order of things. 
I dare you to find a match-up for Sambar though.

Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team
Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com 

Friday, September 9, 2011

In The Label.

Erna Schein Frontman

You’ve heard that familiar anecdote about how “art” supposedly imitates “life.” Rather, is it how the concept in question, can account for the two familiar nouns being switched in order to ask a completely different question? Like many of the things I tend to stress, I’m asking you to ruminate over the idealogical phrase on your own time. One thing I am not qualified for, is the answering of rhetorical questions; sad as it may seem, I cannot divulge upon the uncertainties of art, or, with that in mind, will not create a forum for philosophical jackals. What I would say, is observe, portray and most importantly...enjoy. You know now what I’m talking about. Don’t ever think because you have seen the Mona Lisa, a true Rembrandt, or have illegally inherited a Da Vinci sketch, that you know a good label when you see it. There’s a harsh reality to the fact that most people feel good about purchasing something that has an ornate, if not, a somewhat illustrious piece of bottle artwork. I’m not speaking derisively, it’s a fact, that more people should be considering contents over content.  
Sure, It’s pretty, maybe even regal enough to stand-in for those tchotchkes found in the world’s great parliaments, but is the wine actually good? I’ve debated this too many times to ever consider caring anymore. However, I do not disagree with a product that has all the splendor of a Sgt. Pepper’s emblem, or a ruddy, incomprehensible square of soggy paper, loosely affixed to its base. Sure, there’s a lot of good marketing in a cover, but once they’ve caught your eye, does it matter? Yes and no. The chief thing to understand is that the price is good and your local winemonger knows you’ll like it. Sure, there are some obvious choices aside from those “gag bottles” like “Cheapskate, Il Bastardo” and “Fat Bastard,” but we’ll leave those to the nation’s first wine comedian. In fact, the joke is falling on you, because out of the three, the single item you probably wouldn’t buy, may be the one you actually wanted in the end. 
There are plenty of oddball labels and such, but none probably more than you would find from Sine Qua Non. Some of which, like “The Line” and “B20” suggest unmitigated indulgence and insanity. Some, even include pictures and idioms that E.E. Cummings would be proud of. Or, maybe, if you’re familiar, Ralph Steadman has created many novel portraits for beer barons and wine gurus alike. His violently illustrations have won him particular controversy with names like “Cardinal Zin,” featuring the likeness of the most venerated person in the papacy. Not only that, his interpretation of the “Old Bastard” came around with a Shiraz from none other than Kaesler Vineyards. Nonetheless, there is no reason why names like these should be ignored, but their artwork becomes washed away in rills of phenomenal wine.                       
Various Sine Qua Non Labels
Don’t get me wrong, there’s a profusion of great things coming from vintners who choose the matte-white business card style, or build the intricacies behind a photoshopped ‘superlabel.’ Some like “Far Niente, or half of every Chateau denison in Bordeaux thinks there’s some elegance needed to undermine the kitschiness lurking in many art departments. Even if a bottle is painted, malformed, or laughably obtuse, knowing the producer still seems to be the most important aspect in our experiences and interpretations. Like an art dealer embarking on a good career, it’s really not what the piece resembles, but rather, who made it. 
I would no sooner trash the ominously goofy labels on a Ken Wright Pinot Noir, than the single Frontman pictured by Erna Schein, but there are some bottles which are obviously too avant-garde in terms of flavor profile, despite their outside appearance. Some would like to think there’s an actual spirit, or  consequential nature to the visual interpretation of a product, by way of its actual taste and mouthfeel. Maybe so, but there’s nothing that’s going to prove to me that the likeness of a Red Lion, or a giant rooster has the right to fairytale its way onto my palate and into my pocket. 
Watch out "Rubin Czar Lazar", you’re funny, but not that funny....

Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team
Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com

Friday, September 2, 2011

Swiftly Oriented

Papillon Red
You’re probably wondering what’s going on with the title of this entry. No worry, I’m just taking some time to realize that there’s more to this blogging business than just focusing on opinion alone. Sure, my trademark idiosyncrasies usually seem like personal retrospects that have me blurting out whatever I damn-well please; no, not this time. I bespeak of something more important and someone obviously more keen than myself. Ever hear of Dave Phinney ? If not, recognitions will emerge when I begin to prate well-into the next paragraph. I’m going to be a bit nasty, forgive me, but you’re going to have to wait till the lead is done to discover who, or rather, what I’m talking about. Consider yourself lucky though, my previous statement comes at the risk of having old Journalism professors remonstrating over this press-related “no-no” of mine. Like a juvenile, I say “whatever” and continue on haphazardly. There’s someone more relevant that needs to be profiled here, regardless of the timeliness surrounding this story. Imposing, but every bit as suave, Orin Swift Cellars seems to be at the hilt of handcraft winemaking since 1998, when it began filling glasses and publicly starting a mad dash for anything within its namesake.


Much like Erna Schein or Molly Dooker, there’s some misguidance as to whether or not “Orin” acts as the vigneron at large; but to the odd disappointment of fans, he and the others are only mere portraits, or bynames of other peoples real, or lightly referenced. However, the one behind all the fuss, is simply known as: “Dave.” You might think Mr. Phinney to be a bit of a recluse, with symptoms of claustrophobia and schizophrenia, but that’s only from having looked at one of his labels. Decked in a impenetrably black bottle, and featuring a scraggy, unfinished image of a figure in chains, “The Prisoner” is probably someone you know. Like a good film-noir synopsis, you, or rather, the psyche of the title character, can likely be interchanged in an all-out, gutsy war that tests the psychology of good vs. something perceivably more sinister. 
The Prisoner
I could go into endless analogies about whether the wine, or the drinker, is the more captive, but I’ll leave that to much younger detectives. Scores of like-minded consumers fill stores everyday to understand what can be unleashed in this blend of formidable red grapes. With no penchant for modesty, Zinfandel, Cabernet Sauvignon, Syrah, Petit Verdot, Charbono, Grenache and Malbec indicate why since 2003, it’s been such a long-term success. Even after handing over The Prisoner and “Saldo” rights to Hunneus vineyards, they still remain a flagship for Phinney; his other reds, including “Mercury Head” Cab and the recent release of the 2008 “Papillon,” have been of more partial interest; that is, until buyers discover their true bounty. More or less, they have developed higher price tags, but remind yourself though, that “Palermo” Cab, the “D66” Grenache and their “Veladora” Sauvignon Blanc all commit to affordability. 
Not bad for someone who originally earned a degree in Poly-Sci from Arizona university and wound up studying something with bit more risk. Which is the funniest thing, because like a lot of breakthrough vintners, it seems like law school was a burden for Phinney and those who now stress fermentation over litigation. There’s no contest, considering that it’s not difficult to see why the allure of winemaking is so prevalent through Orin Swift; a brand, if you can call it that, compounded in the middle and maiden names of Dave’s own parents. Whether he found inspiration from a college roommate, worked for Mondavi, or participated in the modus of ‘Opus,‘ the clarity of opulence seen in this small, but illustrious wine portfolio is quite remarkable. Although, as of late, the personality behind that imprisoned caricature I mentioned earlier, seems to be shackled in compliance, since those reeling from “Quintessa” fame have led it into submissive austerity. Still, most cannot believe that one of the most popular blends to date, is actually a collaborative project now. 
I would say we’re waiting for “The Liberator” but he just doesn’t sound cool enough.
Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team
Visit us online @: westchesterwine.com