Creme De La Cremant.

Clavelin Cremant-Jura 

You know what’s coming...a new year. With it, we’re ready to experience the benefits of the new and to think about something more resolute. You might have a key point to advertise to others as you lift a glass to the zenith of your arm’s length and proclaim: “My new year will act as an impetus to lose twenty pounds, raft down the Tarmac and cut down my usage of the word ‘so-and-so.’” Ok, you might be on the positive side when 2012 rolls on by, but are you going to be dead-set to the things you always wanted to do, but will more than likely never accomplish? Probably. We’ve all made mild stipulations before and it’s no surprise that most people wind up ten pounds heavier, twice as frustrated and that expansive vacation winds-up being a weekend trip to a frumpy “B-And-B.” Speaking of which, you’re probably thinking about going with that bottle of bubbles before the new annum arrives, which is probably the most misunderstood tradition that has come about in the past hundred years, but that’s what you’re doing. For whomever’s sake, other than your own, there’s a lot of good sparkling wine to accent New Year’s eve, so you don’t need to rely on Champagne again and again and again...

I do not want to say that Champagne is not an option, it’s perfectly normal to want it, savor it, but there’s so much more. I think A “Cremant” is a much better idea. Based on the name, you’re probably thinking that it’s a heady, fruit-forward, enticingly sweet white sparkler that has a place near your spumanti, or Moscato D’Asti; another great idea! Still, we’re talking about an alternative to the expensive Champenois d’elite. For about twenty bucks, or oftentimes, much less, you can rely on the “Jura, Burgundy, or that little misunderstood region of France called: “L’Alsace.”         

Hubert Clavelin is a great producer of Cremant in the Jura Region that makes you wonder why the term “Still Wine” was blurted out a long time ago. It has all the positive outlets that you can expect from common nuances. Though it may not be an attractive one, bacon fat is my favorite out of the selection, but you don’t have to agree with me completely. You could also think of it as a savory, yet saline element that complements the overall fruit. The fruitier aspect compensates for the roasted herbs you’ll find, making their way towards the back-palate, as apples, pears, and honeycomb upend your expectations. It’s actually 100% Chardonnay...and probably my favorite one...ever.

Vissoux Cremant-Bourg.

Cremant is bucolic enough to make me doff a straw cap and ride a donkey all the way through Bourgogne. It’s not my imagination, its a definitive want.  Why not? The Domaine Vissoux has a Cremant that juts-out from the land of White Burgundies and otherwise...usually the more expensive kind. It’s a haymaker’s paradise, yes, because of the citrusy profile intermixed with notions of cracked wheat, gooseberry and grilled bread. Sounds to me like a breakfast feast of fruit and bread...it usually is, in this case. Gold, bubbly and starkly reminding me of what it means to be living in New York, I have never encountered a repose to this particular style of countryside living. It’s like a vacation away from apts. and cranky, overcompensated metropolitans. 

The really nice thing about this often-forgotten installment of bubbly, is the fact that Limoux, the Loire Valley and just about a whole host of other regions and principals have their roots in sparkling wines that, if any, do not confine themselves to the idea that it has to be bank-breaking. What’s more appealing, is that every producer is trying to get your attention, or at least skew your interest. That’s a good thing, because how many times have you encountered Champagne that is simply too much money, or had a domestic bubble burst when you found out that America hasn’t quite mastered the art of effervescence? It might be cheaper, but is it right for you? 

Wait, does this mean that all of this really has to do with money after all?

Brian Maniotis 

Westchester Wine Warehouse

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

Big Barolo Unabashed

Settevie Barolo

I, above all, do not like to appear self-righteous, but I always seem relegated to answer questions about what I drink, consume, etc. Nevertheless, It shouldn’t matter...especially when it has to do with the things I imbibe; thankfully, no matter what I recommend, parlay, or debunk, it’s really your choice that beckons to interpretive quality. I’ve served as a critical liaison and the generator of hospitality when the whole of this wine culture we live in does not always make the most sense. I’m always here with a few noticeable orts of information to help people deflect the indistinctive points in wine and spirits. Call it an occupation, a hobby...maybe, but do not call it a reason to wake up every morning and take my advice as the ubiquitous-supreme; after all, I have confessions to make. 

Oh yes, I participated in the wrongful act of taking NO responsibility for my guests, myself, and everyone else that will be drinking wine this year. I practiced poor judgement in a way that is purely unjustified: I BOUGHT A BAROLO !!!! Now, before you get congress on the phone, I’m not doing this for effect, but at least hear my reasons. It’s been a long year despite how many resolutions I’ve made to make self-improvements. It’s been some time since I’ve actually sat down to dinner with a great bottle of wine, which may seem odd since I’m inundated with wine, but it’s actually true. Most times, I’m subjected to the rigor of tests and taste-offs that chastise my palate. Often, I do not actually get to sit down and intellectually pick-apart the wine that I bring home...then again, why would I want to all the time? I do like to participate in the sometimes innocuous placing of nuances in the glass, but I rarely get to sit back and sip continuously without enjoyment. 

But a Barolo? Of course...I need something chewier, more tannic and still edging with that same cherry-mocha disposition that makes the Nebbiolo grape so appealing. I’m still shaking my head in disbelief that I would pair the D.O.C.G superstar with the bounty of roasted chickens, sausage stuffing and similar entries commonly associated with Thanksgiving, but on a holiday that’s not Thanksgiving. It seems like an endorphin-based overload, but damn it, I can say after this entire year, it’s a well deserved ride that ends with me feeling bloated, but temporarily satisfied. 

Virna Settevie...ever hear of it? Maybe not, but it’s the difference between a Barolo that’s too much money for everybody and too inexpensive to enjoy by myself. It only ran me thirty bucks, but has the trim of similar exports that are double the price. I’ve told many customers that pronouncing “Barolo” should invoke images of masculine tendency, but I have to be honest in saying that a “feminine” one does not do the trick for most enthusiasts. It has an obvious musk and belligerence that can only be augmented by notes of sweet balsamic redux, ripe cherry, roasted sage and dry raspberry. I’ve sampled this bottle here and there, but I’m certainly going back to it for these reasons alone. 

I pretty much described in the recent past what makes a gigantic feast truly formidable. A less weighty red, or white, is not superficial, but always a good choice. I, on the other hand, am obsessed with a complete round-up of all my common human senses this Christmas; you know, only to expand them through food and wine, but especially the wine. I chose what I did to represent the fact that I too, believe in that inextricable need to relax with a good bottle despite what it does, how it reacts, and etcetera. I really want to accent the time I have off before New Year’s day by realizing there’s something gratuitous to be enjoyed before the next year brings a hoard of new phenolic personalities for myself and others.

My choice for New Year’s Eve? Probably Vodka...

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

You're Due For Bandol.

Revolution Bandol

Most people have forgotten the intrinsic value of Provencal wine. Even though Rose dominates the one-dimensional spectrum of the region’s outputs, there’s always a cute, awe-abiding underdog scampering its way through someone’s vineyard. No, I’m not talking about the one animal everyone sees, from time-to-time, at just about every estate the world throughout. What I would like to unleash, is the innocuous curiosity to which we hold the powerful red blends of a little place located in southeastern France.             

Like an old commodore printer creating a cross-hatched blip of color on its hexagonal geography, the silhouette of France’s southeastern border, is tack-marked with a demure little place called “Bandol.” Located within the foyer of Provence, the appellation is known to have existed for some 2.500 years, to which, during its earlier periods, the Romans had once held legion. Known as a quiet, somewhat tranquil setting, the maritime community and summer bivouacs for disgruntled Parisians, is something of a mediterranean showcase. Distinctly thought of as a “Town,” vacationers see opportunity in marveling at its seaports and drinking the local the local fare. Not a particularly dishonest amount of attractions, since considering the general idea of what to do within the appellate has gone generally unchanged since *600 B.C.

Pecoulas Clairette

What about libation? No joke, it’s white wines tend to exact pleasure in installments of Clairette, Ugni Blanc and Bourbonlec, but the real attitude behind any kind of viticulture here is found in rouge. Bandol reds boast their reliance on almost nothing but Mourvedre, moreso in a dark, full-bodied style, that takes-on notions of violets, leather, black fruits, minerals and earth. Sometimes, winemaking gets tricky and Grenache, or Cinsault is provided to balance-out the effect of its oneological overachievements. Regardless, the effect of making good on an attempt to provide racy, complex, but focused exports, is not something uncommon here. I think a good example of that is founded in something called, “Revolution.” Not a socio-political uprising perchance, but something based on the idea that one does not have to storm “The Bastille” in order to obtain new varietals. Actually, the revolt comes in a 750ml bottle that perpends the use of a little bit of something deemed unnecessary by law-abiding appellations. It’s Mourvedre of course, but this entry from “Tour du Bon” is an experiment and much less a crime, that involves Syrah; which based on tasting notes, could be abetting a latter-era fugitive. Almost like a noir epic, the surname reads with the hackneyed use of decoupage lettering found in ransom notes. The stemware pictured on front is a little more cute in its fostering of drawn-on arrows to depict an entire wineglass. Taste-wise, the overripe black fruits, red licorice and salted blueberry tapenade is the real artful expression here...maybe with a splice of Kalamata olive here and there. 

The Clairette I mentioned should not go without response either. Considering it’s nature to combine a supple frame, with crisp, floral undertones, seems like an incongruence in the description of any wine, red or white. Still, Dom Pecoulas has birthed a phenomenon in the “Des Temps” aperitifs and conjugal food wines. Though the white may not be from Bandol per se, it’s probably one of the few chances you have to enjoy something from Provence that doesn’t offer blithe notes of grapefruit. Interspersed notes of lemon, honeysuckle and white peach flow through a clean, refreshing back-palate that’s mobile, but not ambling towards a lack of refinement.

Give me any Bandol and I’m happy...unless there‘s a sheer lack of it. 

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com 

Cooking With It.

We all know you have to wind up in the kitchen at some point. There’s no potential in completely avoiding the fact. Though you may not call yourself a Chef De Cuisine of the modern foyer, here’s your opportunity. 

Let’s begin. 

*Disclaimer: Please, do not, above all, call me a substandard revolutionary in all things edible; rather, take some consideration for what I plan on discussing. Before I start, I would like to indicate there’s really no wrong way of going through any cooking process, but there’s a lot of things one can do to completely upend the creation of a successful meal. 

*The best ingredients are always fresh, cooperative, but generally simplistic.  

*Taste your food often. If you don’t like it, someone else probably won’t.

*Use wine. 

        

Azeitao White

The magic response, rather than the question, seems apparent now. “Use wine” you say? Yes, you will use wine tonight. Whether or not you actually can utilize it, is beyond question; since most of anything vinous in the kitchen-side, is friendly enough for any epicurean concoction. I’ve seen curries take-on the common Tannat and I’ve encountered Muscats in corn muffins. Laugh as you will, I can go on forever about this...Believe it or not, there’s many things your cupboard-bound wine portfolio is not openly describing. Perhaps one, is the foundation on which most stews, sauces, bases, rues, etc. are made: A Dry Wine. Yes, you have probably read all the supermarket leaflets describing ways to uplift the ante of your dish by using whites, or reds that originated somewhere between red burgundies and white Bordeaux. The latter is always true, but you have to know who you’re getting it from in order impart that same flavor profile back into your entree. 

Juan Gil

I want you to second-guess me here, because today, I’m not talking about French wine when it comes to sure-fire cooking. Sure, I’d probably be the one preaching about how the international aspects of “Vins Des Cuisines” are  succinctly French, but I too, get tired of such gestures. I have a little bottle of “JP” that does the trick when I’m braising shellfish, or roasting anything winged. It’s a white wine, it’s from Portugal, It’s blended, and I can’t say how many times It’s pulled me out of some tense situations. When I need to deglaze, or simply disengage those scratchy bits of protein stuck to a pan bottom, It really works. It’s not a big white, or a stony, mineral-driven one, but It has enough fruit to justify a carnivore’s Sunday roast. Red, red, red...what do we do with you exactly? I’m not sure, that is, because it really depends on what you’re making. I’ve seen “Lamb Malbec” (the dish) prepared with all the implicit possibilities. The wine can be a great choice for beef and cuts of cloven-footed animals, but let’s not stop there. In a manner, pastas can take a Chianti Colli Senesi, or anything of a birthright within the common Sangiovese...”Denominatzione?” Not applicable. My favorite all-time, no blunder, ‘easy-done-it’ red, has to be Juan Gil. Now, some of my friend would beg me to be serious, but I stand unflinching in my attempt to take-on shouts and dirty expletives here. J.G.’s Monastrell (i.e. Mourvedre, Mataro) is about $14-16 bucks depending on where you buy it, but the ingredient is a prime factor in many of my favorite dishes. Paella? Its tannins eagerly temper starches and the crusty “socarrat.” Chicken? It’s earthy tonnage and herbal notes flavor the entire bird. Barbecue? With a little brown sugar and lime, your next pork dish will represent why loins are the most popular hangups.

I don’t know about most people, but the general Idea is to fare the economy when finding that irreplaceable “cooking wine.” I don’t intend to encourage eager consumers to spend fortunes in order to find the right one, but there’s more advantageous choices to be made in buying better products. If you find yourself at the brim of a bottle that appears “too reasonable,” then it’s probably not worth the ruination suffered in those occasional gastronomic blunders we all experience at one time or another. As many forefathers and foremothers have duly respected the golden rule of cooking, it pays to know that we can always add something, but never take it out. 

The trick is, to understand the addition. 

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

Solving Winter...Slightly.

Nectar D'Or

Emerson said something about a winter Idyl...judging from the text and the length of the epic poem, I think most of us can understand the feelings he tried to evoke. I figure, with the oncoming snow and the beleaguring sense of “self” that comes with seasonal depression, there’s got to be something  out there to evade it altogether. Though I think Ralph’s feelings were sort of ambivalent, I can vouch for that too. I can’t say for sure if there’s anything I can do to pull you out of the inextricable period between December and February, but I can try. Like the change in seasons, people’s tastes, wants and crankiness will prevail. Overall, the time spent figuring out what to do about it, tends to overtake the entire idea of what it means to wait for springtime. Fussiness, inability to cope with icy roads, snow-days and the overheated homes of relatives, all contribute. Though when you’re inundated with downy flakes, don’t refer back to me as the saint bernard who lovingly trots to you when you’re stuck in the after-effects of an avalanche; both personal, or climactic. At least, consider me a seller of fineries who gets the blood flowing to the proper extremities. 

Why not use Scotch? With a little ice, a little water, (not tap) if necessary, and some dispensable income, you can have an easy winter. Attention! I’m not associated with any medical practice whatsoever, but I recommend not going with my advice on how to stay warm and healthy during snowstorms. I, if anything, have been told that in an emergency situation, you’re better off keeping your core temperature at stasis, than to have your fingers and toes brimming with plasma...as correlated in the practice of drinking too much liquor that is. Nonetheless, it’s good to have all the proper warming accessories available: jackets, gloves, scarves, etc. I mean, that’s obvious, but  you don’t want to lose any one appendage on my behalf. Forgive the rant though, since what I’m really trying to emphasize, are the niceties of the port, sherry and sauternes casks when it comes to single malts. “What?” you reply, but don’t worry...despite the lack of theme, and the fact I can’t guarantee that you’ll feel cozied by a peaty scotch, the stuff warms me up just fine when I think about them.

With more than a couple of chances at a good guess, you might already know what’s to be tasted in scotch that’s aged in any of the proper barrels that I mentioned previously; all of which, have all been used in the production of the most recognizable fortified wines. Take port for example, a rich, ruby-to-tawny colored one that lends traceable nuances of raisin and candied nuts into your single malt. Whereas, with the sherry wood, you can afford, generally, a full-bodied whiskey that implies caramel, with a chance to develop some creamy overtones. Glancing at Sauternes, the wine is soft, floral and honeyed on its own, but using the oak is going to harmonize and balance that traditional citrusy profile. It’s an equilibrium that has more sway with notes of orange blossom and gooey, spiced cakes. It might seem unreal, but the proof is there if your palate can manage it.                             

Port Cask

Perhaps the most noted producer in any attempt to use unconventional ageing standards is “Glenmorangie.” Banking on twelve years to age some of the most delectable scotch available on the market, the well-practiced trifecta of their wine cask maturation processes is probably one of the best. Their “Nectar D’Or” a.k.a, Nectar of Gold, is perhaps why Sauternes is equally famous for their aperitifs, as they are for creating fantastic single malts. Some argue that this is the only scottish producer that has taken a highland specialty and actually imparted flavors commonly found in french white wine. Though rough in comparison, it’s still a damn good product. Think ginger, meringue, nutmeg and lemon syrup....how enthralling. The port cask is just as nice, recalling damson, fruitcake, plum skin and a touch of something like pfeffernuse...I’m not kidding, it’s like a Germanic cookie with a higher proof. The Sherry, is nominally, the most interesting, given its nod to creme brulee, burnt orange and the interpretive peatiness that pushes through like five spice powder blended with a little extra Sichuan pepper.

I can’t say whether or not the Scottish know how to keep humans warm with a barrel and a couple of stills, but they give me that lusty, heat bearing sensation that can only be transposed by good scotch. To each, the idea of a “Single Malt” is only best described by the lone producer, and the one and only malt of the barley grain that is the basis for the distillation, the ageing and the unending excitement. Now, I have heard that a little soda can make old uses for the stuff reappear, but I wouldn’t dare nowadays to even think of putting anything extra inside my glass other than some water from the local streams in which the Scots need to create their most valuable export. Curling up with a glass of port, sherry, or a little nip of Sauternes may be more practical, but when there’s a cold front ahead, your liquor cabinet passcode should read:

12-15-18-20-25-30               

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com