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 

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

Visit us @ westchesterwine.com

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

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

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

Visit us @ westchesterwine.com

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

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com