Friday, January 27, 2012

Superstitious Scotch

Jura Superstition

Coming across a scotch box with a gleaming silver Ankh was nothing but a surprise at first. Why above all, would I be seeing Egyptian symbolism on a stout, indigo-colored package that, in speculation, appears more baleful than endearing? Tapping into resources further exemplified by the internet, I find more than a few possibilities to unravel an edifying mystery. As most philosophers and scientists will tell you, common answers usually yield more questions and only add to our misunderstandings. Common ignorance within this universe is debatable, but when it comes to marketing, it does wonders for eager scotch consumers. I’m not  exactly, but there’s something about the “Island of Jura” that has me flipping through books on  mythological geography, wondering why I’ve never heard of it. Realistically, when we talk about single-malts, the place to be, is the Islay, Speyside, Lowlands, Highlands, and the Campbeltown area on the Kintyre Peninsula. There are a whole range of islands too, but not one that seems to have enough paranormality.
Well, there’s a little more to this water-locked idea of mysticisms and rites...there’s actually a scotch called, “Jura” from an island with the same name, and with equal astonishment, it’s the only distillery on the map. Simple enough, right? There’s a little more to divulge on though, considering that the commercial advertising has people spelunking through the interior of their website to discover the fabled “13 Superstitions” that could win them a trip to their Scotland locale. But I begin to wonder if there’s some truth about these adherences to the superstitious and a mission to create good whisky based on a certain duality of old world craziness and contemporary talents. That’s the ideal isn’t it? Who is to say that the tomfoolery of the past has no practical value in the workplace?        
Yes friends, the stuff is incredibly good. Probably the right balance between peatiness, smoke, and if you agree...fruits. “The Superstition” as repeated once again, is actually the name of their younger whisky, with an old rune symbol stuck to the front, acting as the single anachronism found on this lesser-aged edition. There’s everything from this, to a selection of more “Boutique” distillations that will probably require the sort of layaway that has nothing to do with bottle ageing, but why go all out? You have a single malt here that’s willing to uncover some of the clues leading to notes of coffee, woodspice and raw honey. For fifty bucks, it’s not nearly as dear, compared to others priced beyond comprehension; items if anything, that are almost intangible at 16 years of age or more.

The big thing with scotch seems to be, that “the name” bides the interest in total, so most of the most well-known producers are usually the most profitable. Maybe so, but the truth is, that others’ preferences are mandated by pure speculation and that indefinite kookiness behind personal taste. Like wine, the scotch world is just as subjective and open to opinion. Which is funny, because this 200-year-old distillery seems to have been pushing away human cares in order to focus on something greater, more incredulous than squabbles over good drinking. I can say, that “Jura” has a very shaded past, one that has probably kept the distillery alive since its heyday. Musing on that, I’ve always felt there’s nothing like uncovering an old yarn every now and then and I can tell you, there’s much more fun in being able to drink on the logistics of it. 
Mirrors, smoke, but not the other way around. 

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Friday, January 20, 2012

Go-To Gattinara.

Antoniolo Gattinara

There’s a Nebbiolo for everyone...I usually do not have to explain why, but most wine drinkers know I’m going to backup such a statement with something all too relevant. You’ve had your whims about Barolo and your delineations about Barbaresco, with the only potential recourse you face is buying something just as good. Not to say that the two Piedmontese giants are always memorable, but not all of them are. Let me act as the heretic here and do something completely out of question. I say, to hell with the idea that two of Italy’s best D.O.C.G’s are keeping at the cusp of the best, and most recognizable wines next to...I don’t know, Brunello and Chianti?Whatever your tastes, there’s a whole lot going on with a grape that has succumbed to an antithetical lack of tampering and tempering. 
Ever hear of Gattinara? It’s still a Piedmont success, but It has the acclaim of being able to accept other grapes into the working order of winemaking. Denominational law states that 90% must be true Nebbiolo, (a.k.a. "Spanna") that is, in the Northwestern piece of territory, where the Bonarda di Gattinara and Vespolina grapes are certainly permitted within conventional blending. The whole idea has me wondering why no one else has had the penchant to explore this further, I mean, the concept conjures up so many eroticisms that I can hardly keep from blushing. Imagine, something like a Barolo, with a greater presence of heftiness, darker fruits, and floral undertones. Although the wine from this area can be somewhat tannic, it still benefits those who are looking for something with a little more force. 
Travaglini
I love the fact it’s only been accepted as a D.O.C.G superior since 1990 and the prices aren’t exponentially rising as a result. Considering some of the bottle prices ranging at $30 or more, it doesn’t seem to build on that sense of boredom found in Barolo and Barbaresco with similar figures in mind. Antonioio makes a perfectly good one, with the brazen, black cherry liqueur making appearances here and there, while the notes of crushed lilacs and rose petal intertwine their way through a manifold of silkened tannins. As I always do, I try to recommend another bottle and without further delays, not that there were supposed to be any, I lean my attenuations toward Travaglini’s latest Gattinara. It’s somewhat similar to others, but the artistry tends to evoke plum fruit somehow. Call me a heretic again; however, that’s what I’m saying, tasting, feeling and genuinely sticking-to. 
Roast me as you will, you’re better-off buying a rump and putting that one in the oven if you must. Besides, a Gattinara pairs well with a similar cut of meat other than the one you’ll find talking about wine today. Please, do not kill me for saying all the wrong things about denominations that have nothing but the righteous promises for good wine, but consider putting out that fire in your mind that torches around when spending $60-plus on those famous “Killer B’s” we all seem to love. The little “G” is not so little anymore and it’s time to recognize that. He’s attracting girls, and sometimes, boys now, so it’s going to be hard to let him go when he becomes too involved with either of them. 
Sometimes, you know, they’re not always as cute when they get older.
Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Friday, January 13, 2012

It Could Be Lebanon.

Chateau Musar

Though I might have extrapolated on a few interesting things coming from a place that borders Syria, I don’t think I’ve ever come to realize the potential in posting about it. Well, don’t second-guess me, because I try as often as possible to profile many regions, principalities, nations, etc., that embolden  the aspects of contemporary winemaking; and no, I don’t mean the unsophisticated, fruit-forward blasphemies of the Nouveau Monde. Seriously, no other country seems to have represented an ulterior balance quite like Lebanon has; often, with those under-marketed bottles and their reputed value, that still have me wondering how it all came to pass. Though inspiration might be something bankrolled, initiated, or just plain influenced by French viticulture, I’m seeing a good number of alternatives in blended reds and whites that the Lebanese have fermenting as we speak.
It’s no surprise really, since everyone who has been held back in the wine trade for the past hundred years due to political, theological, or reasons that would have otherwise conflicted grape-growing, i.e., weather and climate, Lebanon has some great choices for those who are looking for inexpensive wine to pair with light stews and cheese that creates a bevy of crunchy little proteins. That sounds like a lark, doesn’t it ? Hmm...maybe some lamb tenderloin cooked in a dutch oven with cumin, paprika olive oil and a little bit of red wine, or, just a couple wedges of Campo Montalban. Oh hell, why don’t I just head to the market now and pick it up? It would not be too impulsive of me right? No, not when you have the juice to make it a worthwhile excursion. 
Aside from easy, one-pot meals and casein-rich dairy products, there’s two producers that have my head turning away from my usual indulgences. For one, “Chateau Musar” has a red blend (a.k.a The “Jeune”) where Cinsault dominates an interesting percentage of Carignan, Cabernet Sauvigon and Syrah. Intriguing as it is, don’t think this is a youthful upstart that puts Cabernet in third place. The estate has been producing wine since the 1930’s, which is not a testament to the longevity of winemaking tradition over the past millennium, but they make an obvious sense of it. Blackberries, raspberries dusty tannins and plum sauce take precedent over my tasting notes and lead me to believe there’s more to it’s “$20 and below” price point. 
Kefraya White
As I tend to do, I cannot bring myself to say that white wine has been the most popular in Lebanon, but it deserves some much-needed care and reasonable confluences of attention. I like Chateau Kefraya’s red blends as well, but their white blend still has me thinking about the long approach to summertime. “La Dame Blanche,” is their take on a blend of Ugni Blanc, Bourboulenc and Clairette. Soft, dewy and reminiscent of lime drops, this is probably one of the best white wines I have tried that are between the $10-to-$13 dollar mark. I could sit tableside with a plate of scallops sauteed in a saffron butter sauce and just routinely pig-out as I choose to when there’s wine like this around. 
Would I even need to go on further? It doesn’t matter, you need to fulfill some of your own destiny and get out a bottle of each. One thing is certain...you don’t have to feel like a cheapskate for denying yourself something that’s way beyond the commercial practicality of Lebanon’s Bekka valley. Every vintner have something that sounds abjectly French, but it is certainly not so. With all the speculation at the expense of big producers and consumers in France and elsewhere, there’s no competition in the realization of obtaining great wine, that is, without throwing more “argent” at the cause. I think we’re on to something with these reasonable participants.
But oh well, you’re still going with expensive French wine aren’t you? 
Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse

Friday, January 6, 2012

Not Salmon. Not a Fluke Either...

Coho Red Blend

Some people feel intimidated by wine that’s over the thirty dollar mark.  Just as well, you obviously know that other people are somewhat unflinching in their pursuit of the “expensive.” Even if you’re purchasing one bottle, or levying an entire case for your daily pleasure, you have to buy according to your own margins. Don’t get me wrong, I receive a lot of free wine on occasion and I do happen to engage in a fair amount of scheduled tastings, but there’s nothing like having full access to one, fairly artisanal product. After all, a case can get you through your per diem needs, that is, for dinner, or after hard work-a-days, but if you really want to pursue the memorable, buy within a certain parameter. 
You know, I actually enjoyed something well enough that I decided to dedicate a single post to it. However, when I say “Coho” does it bring-on visions of incarnadine fish, leaping gratuitously through brackish waters, fanning their airborne bodies with lips agape?  Probably not, but you can have every comfort in knowing there’s no fishy taste to this atypical Claret blend made in California. What’s more interesting, is this Cab, Merlot, Petit Verdot blend that stands as an unwavering tribute to the ecology that gargantuan producers have ignored for some time. The namesake is based on the most recognizable, yet somewhat pink, inhabitants of the sea and neighboring watersheds; which by right, naturally invokes the practice of sustainable agriculture utilized by the winemakers. Already recognized by the wine press (not in the figurative sense) and amongst those who dabble in the trade, Coho has the right idea in their mind despite those who feel they’re undecidedly forced into the “goody-goody” system of guru-style marketing where human brains appear more “green” than any of the thumbs they use to plant their own vines. 
But what about taste? Yes there’s plenty of that to go around, but before you start thinking about how life-changing it’s going to be after it’s poured into your wineglass, there’s a catch...there’s only about 2400 cases produced. There’s not enough for everybody, but if you had your chance like I did, you have to realize something...It’s truly finessed. Rhone fanatics and pugnacious Bordeaux nuts are in for a surprise when they find the austerity in the bottle. It needs about fifteen minutes to aerate, but the purity of the currant fruit, mineral and wildflower notes flow onto the back-palate with symphonic proclivity. Wow, my words might mean a mouthful, but the wine sure doesn’t act with it. What’s remarkable is the long, traceable finish that does not come off in gobs, but finishes with a temperate manifold of dark fruit liqueur. For around forty-something bucks, the sprinkling of tannins on my gums made me giggle like a nymph. 
They’ve been around since 2002, and I can’t wait to see what their portfolio has in store for me, but I am very willing to buy another bottle of their “Headwaters” entry any time in the next month or two. I could certainly go back to a bottle that’s rated '95 by Wine Spectator for the 2007, '88 for the 2008 but I did not even remember the well-deserved scores until now. Did it really matter? Maybe not, but there’s a whole lot of interested parties who feel that a '98 is worth somewhere around one-hundred bucks, or substantially more. They may be right, but as usual, my money is better spent on the one thing I can truly enjoy, rather than 12 bottles I might forget half of the time. With as many wines for the taking, or buying, I have always been remorseful about the wine I’ve gone fishing for, but could not catch in the end. 
It all makes me wonder who among us casts the hook and grasps the bait...
Brian Maniotis
Westchester Wine Warehouse Team