Tea For Who?

Lapsang-Souchong, Pu-Erh, Gunpowder, Darjeeling, Assam, Formosa,  Oolong, Green, White, Black, Herbal, and well...let’s just include the word “Tisanes” to end this first sentence. Truth is, If you have subscribed in any form, to the previously mentioned scope of terminological information, then you probably know a little something about Tea. Yes, I’m going to excite you with the details behind the second-most misunderstood beverage in the world, and put your current worries aside. You know what I’m talking about...you think because I’ve substituted grapes, and, or, grains for “Camellia Sinensis,” (a.k.a. Tea Leaves) that this post will have nothing to do with alcohol. You’re almost wrong. Not to say that I have anything against libations that bear no immediate after-effects, but I have to somehow create a panjandrum of two different subjects at least some of the time. So why not use the typical cerebral reflex to make parallels between something “tippy,” or, for best relevance, inebriating?      

It doesn’t matter if your cocktail is any more powerful than the next, it matters when it’s made right, and some would figure that for blustery summers, the best concept as of late, is to steep some leaves before you regard that cocktail shaker with that sort of gripped-down, double-palmed violence. It will keep you cool...some abject southerners must think so, since  I’ve seen some thirst patterns re-emerging just below the Mason-Dixon line.   Moving on, there seems to be a profusion of Tea-based spirits and pre-mixers that have proved indispensable, especially since the common orange, lemon and cranberry has ungracefully bowed-out, leaving some new juices and, or, infusions to take their place. We’ve probably made too many mistakes by assuming that buckets filled with blue powder and green slime make a mixed drink, and whether those cartons of overly-sugared lemonades and grapefruit products are at all a catalyst to having a good time. I can positively say, that the era of jello shots and vodka-infused watermelons has been credibly defunct for some time. Stories of Sangria remain, but we cannot always endure being awestruck by how many ways it can be tailored. A slap to the forehead makes a blunt sound, and is just as much of a reference to how serious we are about having to look at a combo of wine, booze and apples as our default drink-of-choice this year.

Firefly Sweet Tea Vodka

Can Tea change the monotony? I would think so, since Absolut has made a “Wild Tea” Vodka that’s infused with elderberry flower essence and the Chinese Pu-Erh variety; which is me taking a guess, but the point is to revel in the flavor right? Firefly, is another story, taking Vodka to a partnership with the actual brew of the leaf, and adding a touch of sweetness to a normally happy union. Hence: "Sweet Tea" Though what does one do with each? I tell most people that a lemon wedge, ice and possibly, some tampering is a necessity for Firefly, but It’s not needed. Absolut could take schnapps well, especially with some macerated raspberry and more actual tea if needed. I think a secondary idea would be to go with a variation of an iced-tea lemonade, or mix it with blood orange liqueur, fresh filtered lime and Canton, but that’s another story. 

The idea is to refresh, not resume the same old boring tricks that come with plain vodkas and such. I like the idea of a Tea cocktail every so often, one that begins with something suitably quenching of course, but otherwise, a drink to remember. I would sooner trash the concept of combining something healthy with something deemed the exact opposite, but no one is really looking to master the art of longevity and oneness with the human body. It’s a mixer, plain and direct. You may not be able to experience the leaf, but you get the gist of the appeal. 

At least I hope you will. 

Brian Maniotis   

Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

The Indubitable Albariño

Castro Martin

You’ve heard of it, the all-time, all-functioning Spanish wine that is kept in its common drove; that is, the one befalling a similar fate as most whites in its category. Focusing on that urge to which fashion will never kill, the prudent juice that is something other than red, continues to break the monotony of muggy, exasperating summers and oppressive early falls. Like tradition states, most of us don’t want to reach for something heavy, or rich, so we begin to saunter around with sweat on our face, wondering whether or not there’s any potential for relief. There’s nothing of a bygone in the approach to finding proper refreshment...well, unless you find yourself spending lots of money to dress like those women in victorian soda posters. Though colas and beer are the consummate American quencher of choice, there’s nothing wrong with looking into an Albariño every so often. 

I can’t stress enough, the ability of one little grape to produce so much untapped controversy in the wine world. Shuddering to believe that Sauv Blanc will have to become an afterthought, I’m getting used to the idea that it might one day usurp the once reliable beverage that has gilded bar menus and brain synapses all over the world. Why yes! Screw Chardonnay! “Hold the P.G., and just give me the flinty stuff.” There’s no problem with S-Blanc, but think of it this way...buy a good one, you get some complexity and tropical fruit, buy a bad one, and you have something that marginalizes the effect of soggy, odorous potatoes. This is not effective enjoyment, but what I can say, is that Albariño, lest the comedic attempts at pronunciation, is probably what you want this year. 

Crisp, but without that filthy pistol taste, you can get those tropical notes (See: Courageous Pineapple and Coconut elements ) to coalesce on the palate, giving way to a more mineral-driven profile. Galician winemakers know the bounty of their land and they make the products to prove it. Perhaps it’s the cool Atlantic winds that amble to the Northwestern Territories of Spain which make the stuff so good, but I have to be even more realistic in thinking that it’s the soil that would drive a mineralogist, turned winemaker, absolutely mad. I recently brought in a Castro Martin Alb’ retailing to about fourteen-to-nineteen bucks worth of clams; and when I mean clams, I’m talking about cockles, oysters and any lazied little bivalve that happens to be slurped of its contents. For the money, this lively white was more in tune than most other wines that would simply consign shellfish to their status as bottom-feeders. No, this is good stuff, detailing green apple Jam, key lime, toasty coconut, and darts of pineapple nectar. It retains a youthful manifold, but rests on that bed of minerals that make the specialty so quintessential. Some would argue with me that the Castro is too laden by fruit to be a true A-L-B-A-R-I-Ñ-O, but really, it’s far from being overwrought. Given the crispness, the cursive effervescence of prehistoric terrain and some quenchable aspects, my critics can enjoy drinking cheap Rueda whenever they want.     

The idea here is to simplify, not to go reach beyond your cache for the typical white, but to realize the potential for a Spanish food wine for the hottest seasons. I would just as normally place an Albariño next to a bucket of freshly netted clams and cure them in the nectars of this commonplace wine  that is anything but trite in terms of it’s profile. I wouldn’t dare put it against the riche whites of the old world, but then again, I would in some cases. However, the best wine is usually suited for being an alternative to water when you’re eating your way through something delectable. It just works that way. I don’t know what the next hot spell will bring in terms of accentuating our thirst, but I hope it’s just as good as the aforementioned.

Or better...which is better than good.   

Brian Maniotis 

Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

It's good to be back..

If You See Kay

It’s been some time. I’ve been away for nearly three full weeks and there’s been a wedding, a small reunion and a portentous stuffing of my own face. I’m all about gastronomy as you know, but for my own sake, I really overhauled my own consumptive habits. For the duration, I probably gained about five pounds every day and a half, with some natural inclination to feel bloated with that lightly perseverant sense of shame. No prob though, when you kinda get hooked on Bahn-Mi, where the Paté has been soaked in red wine, there’s no harm in pressing them into the gullet. Just compliment the arching food obsession with bowls of Moroccan cauliflower soup, because soup is not technically food right? Whatever...at least I’m fully aware of my lugubrious sense of hunger. But what about thirst? I can divulge all I can about all the wine I could have had, but when you’re touring upstate New York, you would probably find better cocktails. Especially if you’re in the Saugerties, Haines Falls, or Woodstock area. Please, do not get your hopes up on the extrication of some new drink recipes on my behalf. Besides, there some was good wine to try. 

What I mean, is that there was good wine AFTER MY VACATION. It’s important to note, that I work with new stuff on a daily basis and that’s how I generate my resources. I’ve been privileged enough to partake in a slew of wine presentations, events and expositions, but you get tired of it. That’s what getaways are for. You would figure that during my brief respite, that I could have redoubled my absurd love for juice as luck would have it, but I didn’t. It took a four-to-five day act of re-wining to discover that the impetus for really liking the anything new, requires a demanding spirit and needing the right people for an act of providence. Maybe I was too well rested to rake about for something good, especially when I’m nearly two and a half hours from White Plains, but that’s the way it goes. When your vacant from a viticultural job, all is indefinite. 

That’s why I keep my wine interest close to where my hourly rate thrives. That’s how I know I’m getting the bargain, seeing the balance in a white, or red, or simply eschewing the bad versus the mediocre. Trust me, you can go anywhere for those. Recently, I came across something an old friend had laid fingers on, and he asked me “If you see Kay...” Strangely enough, it’s actually printed on the bottle. I’m not aware of the preposition, but If you read it over a couple of times, you might have the cognizant benefit of being treated to a properly masked expletive. What’s more, is that Jason Woodbridge is behind his old tricks again, having taken part in the draw of an artfully progressive wine label. As you will see in the picture, the idea is to convey the old idiomatic phrase: “drink me.” And why not? It’s a blend of Cabernet, Primitivo and Petit Verdot. Make sense? No. What would it matter? It’s fruit-forward, with a sort of plushy personality that makes the good kind of Jammy-ness prevalent with that sense of crimson, but much more darker fruits emerging all the way through a fuller body. Did I mention it's from Italy too? 

I can’t say it’s the real reason why I’m back from my lofty excursion, but I can honestly appeal to the fact that It makes me feel good to be back where I can combine diligence and pleasure. It’s was a good run taking some time off from wine, but as reality would have it, you have to make returns at least every so often. I don’t know where wines like this will take me, but I can at least pretend that I’m prepared for something on par with floating through space. That is, without the lack of oxygen and red grapes. Aliens probably know what I’m talking about, but I’m not ready for an interstellar mind crush when it comes to extra-terrestrial varietals. 

Now that would be a real vacancy, wouldn’t it?

Brian Maniotis

Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

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