Boxing With It.

Vina Borgia Garnacha

I’m not against it. Though, let us give real definition to that resounding “No!” this time, and let the incisively discriminating critics say all they can about one of the most disregarded containers in wine culture. It should not be, that the poor, dessicated creatures that sometimes belie our overgrown thirsts should be regarded with silent indifference. Isn’t flavor a primary interest to begin with? I’m not talking about “flavor” as some indication of  taste pinpointed by how we interpret stuff coming from a bag; (which I will get to later) but we, almost in constance, interpret things as good, bad, mediocre, or gratifying for nothing other than reasonless envy. In addition, we’ve all heard the lamenting wino talk about how everything is pure juice after the first glass...I’m nearly sure that you’ve heard that too often. However, if you’ve been there, you’ve also listened carefully to Europe, whose reliance on spouts and cardboard have overturned our perception of drinkability and the advantage of portables. 

     

I actually found that I enjoy “boxed stuff.” Hold on though, I’m not talking about the old times, or those conventionalist idioms where people use phrases like: ‘Oh, That Crap?’ I’m talking about the provocative issue someone can raise when he or she can actually verbalize their experiences in post-adolescent weening and rid themselves of all that “Ba-Ba” talk. Maybe I’m too optimistic, but I do not think there’s any reason to hate, or dumb-down my rectangular, square and sometimes, cylindrical friends. Rather, you should accept them for their mirth and realize it’s all about what they offer individually. I prefer in most cases, to focus on their presence at the table, so I can feel safe dining with them and not embarrassing myself in front of my wife. That’s just the thing, most of the palpable, friendly wines in the world are basically anything that can cause intellectual stimulation and still be practical enough, in this case, to be pulled from the convenience of a kitchen cabinet, or refrigerator. 

Remember, there’s a trick that is normally performed by smart buyers who know that the “producer” is the keystone in marking those likable wines. It’s as if you could walk between Johnson, Frank, or Bennett Family, and know which one is going to be the most hospitable to you. It’s the same modus operandi that’s useful when choosing something outside the boundaries of cork and glass. No fear in it either, because there are some producers who are much more obvious in their mission to provide the good stuff. I like Vina Borgia a lot ! and I am not being insincere. In truth, I not only love it because it’s the table wine at my favorite restaurant, but it actually has some depth, character and fruit. Apparently, the joking has been directed at me for a long time now, because, yes, they do actually bottle their vintages too, but I have no complaints in tandem. It’s %100 Garnacha, that would make it Spanish of course, and is nicely cursive to the jammy red cherry that stacks up against a light, but spicier mid-palate with a straightforward finish. 

In case you were wondering, yes it is good enough to call a house wine whether your eating at home, or sitting down to a frito misto somewhere else. In case you still think otherwise, there’s a vintage: 2010 to be exact, and it’s in a 3-liter box instead of one that gives you an enormous five. I do not recommend however, treating it like an artisan’s lifelong vision. There is certainly some complexity, but remember, the idea is that you’re still paying $20 for much more wine and not the usual 750ml. To say there’s also something more romantic about hearing a spout pop, rather than a cork doing the same, is a bit interesting; a concept, in time, that will probably never fully catch on. For all that’s available in bottle-form, I tend to treat guests with something other than cardboard and plastic. I can’t do it all the time though, so a box is more than the right idea for those who fall for my old tricks. Try comparing the two, but don’t show your friends the containers, you’ll have a good time seeing how everything matches up. 

Just don’t give anything away.

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

Mentioning Mencia

Castro Ventosa

Who doesn’t like Spanish wine? Relatively speaking, I do not think there’s anyone I know who doesn’t. Whether or not you’re sick of the Ribera Del Duero, or feel a little chagrined about Rioja, there seems to be new, sometimes emergent D.O.’s that have our heads on a constant swivel. It’s difficult at times, but to some, Spain’s winemaking regions and various denominations really require no educational coursework to properly understand, or potentially absorb. Not to say that the winemaking, or the geography of the country is any less complex, but various search-engines can make you succinctly aware of all it has to offer. Nonetheless, there’s always that one grape which follows in the spectacle of newly officiated winemaking laws and constructs. A question though, does it make the experience of actually obtaining the wine a bit more fun and a little more challenging? 

No, not necessarily. For a decade, the Bierzo region seemed incognito and practically abandoned for a proper rediscovery. Once, a former mining outpost for Roman legions, the same mineral soils that had once suited ancient purposes, are now monumental vine plots, serving those who wish to excel in a contemporary craft. The “Mencia” grape has proven to be a good suitor in an attempt to reclaim the beauty and fertility of a place that also has a profuse collection of handsome castles. Yes...castles. 

Bierzo 

But why follow this staple varietal? More often, it’s a great alternative to other wines that are too robust for words; specifically, ones that are usually too full, too earthy, leaving people to feel like they’ve overdone something. What I mean, is that you can sit down to a hearty stew composed of various proteins, onions, stock and tomatoes, and still have enough room to sip-down a wine that won’t overcompensate via tableside. They’re usually labeled: “Joven” meaning, “young” and they have no problem grasping the adjective. Generally, the idea of black, brambly fruits and petite red berries are emphasized, but not the last thing you’ll see on the palate. There’s a good chance that this underdog grape has kinship in Cabernet Franc, but science does not raise the question of a direct equivalent. 

With the vintage not being an issue, Castro Ventosa seems to know exactly how adaptable Mencia is. With plashes of black-raspberry, redcurrant and crisped mint, the palate is not without a genuine opportunity. For good reason, the scintillating spiciness furthers this idea and keeps the wine at a very interesting pace on the finish. Not particularly bad for something that is considered such a juvenile, but not to worry, there’s nothing erratic, irresponsible and ignorant about this kid in particular. Others are sometimes emphatic about red fruits and a more substantial body, but this Mencia is kept in check, and would probably be a nicer alternative to rosé during the springtime, when lighter roasts, mild cheeses and seasonal fruits. 

When in doubt, I usually reach for Spanish wine, which may sound a bit myopic, but there’s a tremendous value most of the time, and it shows. Depending where you shop, the the reach of the country’s best upcoming varietals are usually found in its select regions. Bierzo just happens to be one of the most exciting in my opinion, but really, don’t discount the others...please. The one thing that‘s imperative, is to actually try it, despite popular breakthroughs within the common wines of Priorat and Jumilla. I like those too, but I would at least like to think of the better intentions for I have for myself and more importantly, my readers. 

Ribera Del Guadiana anyone? Maybe next time. 

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

Valentine's Sanguinity.

Sangue Di Guida

Nearly on its way, the most amorous of holidays sneaks by without cognizance. Hearts are broken, melted-down, or left with an almost tepid, but basic feeling of cupidity that usually has to do with a bad assortment of trinkets. We seem to focus on new relationships based on the precedents of red wine, or dealings in the post-nuptial crises of buying pre-fab chocolates and red flowers. It still seems, oddly so, that we are still much more unwise about the effectiveness of common Valentine's Day crapshoots. So why all the pink hearts en-mass? The sucrose dynamic of banal, unwarranted confections that fill closet spaces like boxes of old candy canes? There’s usually no substitute for being creative on the most famous 14th of all months, so that should be your guiding force right?

Probably...but there’s more to being a Valentine than receiving an “I Love You” sprawled on a gigantic digital screen in Times Square, or paying some rock star an exorbitant amount of money to sing an ignominious dirge about his, your, or someone else’s unyielding affection that was, more or less, meant for someone else. Fine, you can dissent to me all you want, because I’m going with the old bottle of wine trick this year. Now, it doesn’t have to be the red kind exactly, but it’s probably the best idea for those in a complete state of oblivion. Call me a martyr for the sparkling stuff as of late, but it seems to have been too irreplaceable of a thing to ignore considering the past two months have yielded some interest. Whatever, there’s more reason now to say that as a producer, "Casteggio" has a place today on this blogsite. 

I’ve tottered on Lambrusco and have never really unraveled Brachetto at any one time. For some, there’s no comparison, but of course, they’re wrong. As it is, the of scowls of various Italian winemakers has not gone unregistered. Most people see both of them as entirely sweet; again, a major misconception. However, the one thing I’m dedicating this post to, is usually sweet, or just a tracing its way to sappy red fruit, and it’s neither exhibit A nor B. It’s even more affordable at thirteen bucks, and it’s basically named: “The Blood of Judas.”  (a.ka. Sangue Di Guida) The grape is that interesting little spheroid that’s usually called “Uva Rara,” and to the Lombardy region, it grows among the Oltrepo Pavese D.O.C. It’s frizzante just like It’s cousins in Piedmont, or Emillia-Romagna, but usually doesn’t burn up wages like the common bubbly from these regions. Most people feel shocked when they learn there’s very little alcohol (sorry to report) and when they see there’s something other than Pink Moscato that reserves its right to outdo the fringes of predicability. 

Uva Rara

I like it a lot, and it’s even better slightly chilled. At temperature, the plum and sweet blackberry flavors don’t interfere. For such a meager price, the finish is substantial enough to carry on for a couple of minutes, adding focus to some cola bean and wild strawberry. It’s probably best on it’s own, but for those who insist on promoting their hedonisms, some incredibly dark chocolate is allowed just this one time...no exceptions. Despite how you serve the delicacy, it’s probably best that someone else join you instead of a inanimate dessert tray full of lacquered truffles and liqueured bon-bons. 

Regardless of what you buy for your loved-one, it’s coming from you and not necessarily from Italy, or France. Although someone else made the wine, there’s only the example of thoughtfulness that’s important. Don’t curse me for ruining those imaginative plans you have for your husband or wife this year, but if you’re going to base-jump your way into your lover’s arms, or rent-out an entire movie theater just to watch Before & After Sunset with her, at least bring the bottle and a couple of flutes. 

Happy Valentine’s Day

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse       

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com 

Absentee.

Van Gogh Absente

Van Gogh only sold two paintings in his entire life and enjoyed only a posthumous brand of fame. The kind of fame that has led people to mispronounce his last name as, “Go”  rather than an usually corrected sound that goes something like, “Gogk!” Maybe that’s to say of a lot of artists, (i.e. David “Bow-wie,” or, “Bowwy.”) but there’s no discounting him as an eternal phenomenon. He left a certain legacy, and an ear somewhere, but he wasn’t always privy to the madness that everyone thinks he dealt with on a daily basis. Some blame it on a spirit that that almost had nothing to do with his eventual breakdown, but rather, only acted as a catalyst to his fate. Let’s get one thing straight, if he wasn’t an artist per se, then he might have not suffered a demise reserved for so many people in the practice of fine arts. Drugs and other indulgences seem to have taxed so many prominent individuals, and there’s been some correlation between the mystery of a celebrity’s personal life and their overconsumption, but those things are nothing compared to what lies in the arrears of wormwood. 

“Absinthe,” or, “Absent” as it is called, is not the emerald dynamo we have all considered it to be. Far as art historians can tell you, there’s nothing wrong with wormwood perhaps, except for when you’re a painter that uses solvents and thinners. Vincent’s approach to madness was nothing but old ignorances about chemical reactions that occur when two different liquids are simultaneously consumed by our mouth and skin. Yes, it wasn’t the age-old myth that wormwood caused Gogh’s permanent psychosis, but rather, a cruel misunderstanding of one man, that probably saved many artists in the long term. 

What I can tell you, is that Absinthe is nothing but a liquor distilled from many different types of botanicals including a handful of herbs that bear the same feminine traits you’d see in the naming of our mothers, daughters, sisters, and likewise. It gets its greenish hue from the natural, herbal elements, but has a tendency to be infused with artificial dyes. The most profound flavor to arise from the glass is usually something like fennel, or anise, considering it is the most powerful of the common melange that makes the liqueur. The actual alcohol content is something due to the neutral grains that give it a formidable proofreading, so if it doesn’t drive you bonkers, then it should obviously cause some inebriation.

Chartreuse

Also known as a “Herbsaint,” it is usually enjoyed by pouring over a sugar cube that is placed atop a slotted spoon that carries the liqueur into a small glass. The sugar causes the spirit to become cloudy and adds a sweeter element to a cocktail that is otherwise bitter at times. Some use it as an alternative to “Anisette” before, or after meals, but there’s really no wrong way of enjoying it. Truth is, there’s supposedly something wrong if you happen to see a “green fairy” buzzing around in superstitious thought, because it’s a sign of delirium, or even death. Many brush-off the idea as absurd, but there’s no mistaking the lugubrious appeal of such an event. For those who are a bit shaken by the prospect, “Pernod,” or “Chartreuse” is a wonderful alternative that can usually benefit from some simple syrup and a good amount of club soda, or sparkling lemonade. The two may sound like swashbucklers with an eye for the ladies, but unlike the reputation of Absinthe, they’re basically harmless.  

I do like the idea that artists like Hemingway, Poe and many others enjoyed the stuff, but I’m wondering why it always appealed to men with so much personal acrimony. I don’t know exactly why, but it seems like the constant flirtation with their own demise was always prevalent. Not to say that it’s a by-product of a long-favored spirit, but rumor is everything when you’re trying to figure out the answers to life, death, or diagnosing insanity. All of the scribes, authors, painters and musicians in the world can abide by their own hallucinations, but when Absinthe is in the picture, it seems to make things worse. Science has proven that you have to careful in your approach, but generally, there’s always precaution in every mixer you choose.       

Oh, the whole ear thing was a farce. He cut it slightly while shaving drunk.        

Brian Maniotis

Westchester Wine Warehouse team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com