Dias De Los Tequilas

Kah Blanco 

With a gust of sand-wind, silence and nothing else, the agave plant rests for years until mature enough to be understood. The potential meaning in this, falls on those spiked, azure tendrils that release a comprehensible nectar acting as the lifeblood of an industry; which has, more or less, compelled beliefs that creating only three distinct forms of it’s prized spirits, has something to do with with both life, living and death. You can take that to such literal zeniths, but please, be calm...the intent is to use figurative language here. However, business rites claim that its commercial manufacture, or well-manicured paradigms, should represent something similar to a biblical triptych, where these three images relate: Blanco, Reposado and Anjeo. It’s not difficult to see where this theme is going, but it proves to be distinct enough for those who have sat down and wondered about birth, demise, or skullduggery of any sort. Whether or not life is meant to rest easily while sipping on something more complex than ourselves, or to scale-up the humdrum mawkishness of being, “pulque,” as it is called, won’t make any sort of life more tolerable. 

Kah Reposado

It’s Tequila. Most people don’t know it, but those who do, still don’t. It seems that there’s an almost blatant hierarchy of subcultures that identify with the spirit, but there’s never really any exploration done. While we’re here, I might as well point out the players: You have “Margaritas,” not the cocktails so much, but those people who feel there’s very little worth to any of it, except, maybe, for a bland lesson in the burlesque nature of salt and fruit. There’s “Tidymen,” those who enjoy it strictly on ice, plain, or sometimes, without temperate highs and lows. Thirdly, “Students” are those who make the ill-fated choice to drink whatever’s there, when it’s there, without considering exactly “how much.” One of my favorites tends to be “The Insouciant,” who by large, you may not run into as often, but you really don’t want to. They’re like the “one-upper,” a jaded, inconsolable participant who thinks that people rarely appreciate such an underrated class of liquor, when in actuality, there’s no necessary comparisons, or intellectual browbeating needed to feel better than the next collector. He, or She has an exciting cellar of rarified, obscure, stolen, or illegal tequilas that makes an aficionado, but not any one those persons who really understand the scrabbling one needs to perform in order to make their own. Sure, they might have planned a trip to Mexico and got a tour of several distilleries, but I’m sure by now, you’ve absorbed the caricature. 

Ok, enough assassination, let’s get to the body of the topic. Given the sort of  pleasant popularity that Tequila has enjoyed as an accepted party-favor, or libation of credit, the bottles have not remained artless in their ability to raise questions about signature styles. Usually, the mythical misconception is that all of them tend to cause heavy convolution and sickness on par with drinking cheap, plastic-handle bourbon. That is still the case in some areas, but perhaps the most elusive gray point about good “T” is which one to buy. Now, I’m not always a label-chaser, or a sucker for eyeball marketing, but I have to admit that “KAH” has me drawn away from one of the rules that I strictly adhere to. Yes, this time, it’s about the art inside and out. Like I said, there’s three different age groups: Blanco, Reposado and Anejo. From beginning to end, they physically see more barrel ageing. Rather than make all the distinctions necessary to outline the differences, you’re basically getting the gist of a younger spirit versus an older one, or something that sits right in the middle. What I can say, is that the purity of the agave plant is shown in all three, with some spicier, citrusy elements forming in the two elder types. Regardless, it is all handcrafted, including the painted skull-shaped bottles. 

Kah Anejo

I don’t always agree with artwork on any bottle, but this time it’s a bit of logic mixed with something cultural; realistically, the skulls give mention of a prominent Mexican holiday where the dead are remembered and revisited through something creative and very human. Maybe I’m too observant, but the illumination of the skulls represents a rebirth when they are so carefully adorned. A concern though, is when the bottles are finished...is there enough room in the house to keep a trove of skulls? You might have to give some away if you’re not an occultist, or a Tequila lover, but the fact seems to always pertain to the flavor of things. I would like to point out that the $50 price tag for each, is quite an investment, but there’s actually four bottles including the “Extra Anejo,” which is dotted with actual crystals. That itself will run up to about $200, which can add up in the end. So, In spite of the character of the bottles and the undivided quality, those eager collectors have some decisive matters to account for. 

Lest they be dead, broken, or a combination of both. 

Brian Maniotis

Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

“Operation: $10.99”

Lancatay Cab

It’s a problem...an indefinite dilemma that bothers even the savviest of consumers. It really has nothing to do with type, or any formality that may exist in this leviathan info-tract culture of ours. Forget the difference between soft tannins, or sweet ones; see if possible, past the truest representation of the “cepage,” in your glass. Who really bothers anymore in knowing how “ullage” is clearly defined, or when to ruminate on whether “unctuous” means anything at all. I’m not whizzing by and throwing verbal orts at you, but on the transverse, I believe none of it is important as trying to figure out what “value” means in wine. I don’t know exactly what it pertains to anymore. Considering that the disposable term has become less of a word and more of a painful onus, buyer’s bouts of denial have led them to manifest projects where self-esteem is temporarily renewed in the purchase of cheaper bulk items; good deals are somewhere, and looking for them are people who think that anything above the eleven-dollar mark is purely unacceptable and not worth exhausting any bit of one’s bravado.            

Well...that’s a definite yes and no, but what people are so afraid of is,  to supersede the $10.99 mark. Some tend to think the inherit problems in buying anything “expensive” belongs somewhere above this price point and an immaterial line is drawn to represent it. I have no problem with reasonable wine, but there’s solace for those who don’t feel it’s necessary to go above and beyond the preternatural task of buying say; Hmmm, I don’t know, something that’s fifteen bucks or more? Fine, if you’re interested, then there’s plenty of courage to muster in finally going with something cheaper and thoughtfully crafted.

Andes Torrontes

Take a Torrontes from Sur De Los Andes. I might have used them as a blind creditor to my critical examples before on some level, but here they are again, but this time, it’s with a white wine instead. After all, you can’t blame an excellent producer can you? Crisp, floral and touching on some feathery notions of young cassava and honeycomb, it’s a good chance that I can bring this home and have my guests wondering on how much it costs and why I make overwhelming attempts in compulsively lying to those I talk to. Red is important too, so I figure you deserve some highlights on that as well.  Not surprisingly, Argentina has a way with me and I can’t seem to ignore the basic fact that since the country has outstanding wine for the money, it falls prey to talks about thriftiness. Still, at least I picked this Cabernet from Lancatay as the second participant in this lovable charade of mine. It’s all mocha, all black currants and the berries to spare, but with that ignominious touch of oak that’s rolled into a genuine flavor-bomb. In keeping with my accord, it’s too sexy for just $10.99 and I don’t have the marbles to get over it. 

Is there really a proof positive example of good wine for the money? Despite what we spend, isn’t there some “aftereffect” that occurs when money is exchanged for goods and other dealings? In all of our opinions, whether or not something is cost-effective, or not, does it make sense? Of course, no one wants to be relegated to spend one-hundred dollars for one bottle, but I assure you, It’s worth it if you know what you’re doing. On the opposite, it still helps if you know a little something about what your buying at any cost. The chief thing to understand though, is that reasonability is the key to moderation and enjoyment of most everything. Which is something I’m likely to bank on if It really meant something to me. My advice would be to make friends with a trade specialist who can get you on the floor of a wine expo.

Well, after all, that’s how I usually drink for free in any event.

Brian Maniotis 

Wine Warehouse Team      

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com

An Obvious Relationship.

Esporao Olive Oil 

Drizzle, pour, fry, or simmer, It makes no difference. You know about the correlatives that take on a certain, if not indirect, human approach to eating well. Usually meaning, in some manner, there’s going to be good food associated with that most famous libation that serves as a culinary equal. Since biblical times, the serving of good wine was only outdone when there were better provisions, or when your assembly became too inebriated to know the difference between gluttony and parsimony. Over time, the chalices and the glasses began to appear as if they were filled to a near overflow, now brimming with the greener sentiments of winemakers and tree pruners alike. But what would happen If this junction between something verdant and powerfully carmine were to become popular enough? Could it prove to be a union that anyone could understand? Forget the utopian belief that there’s any duality, or any secondary dimension to this eating and drinking practice, because more so than ever, a new trifecta now offers something deliciously tangible. 

It doesn’t take even the simplest guess to know exactly why this almost tertiary part of our cooking projects has evaded our dinner table for so long. Well, enough vagary. All this is about, has to do with the practice of utilizing your olive oil in a way, to reflect the tender cares of the wine baron that makes it for you. Yes, you can actually peruse through your grocery store now to find not only what the winemaker is crushing, but what he, or she is cold-pressing. You may recall that it’s not uncommon for some who own vineyards, to also have a tree somewhere that can be plucked in order to create something with enough richness and green unctuousness to fortify soup, salad and red sauces alike. Not to say that wine cannot do the same, but there are striking gastronomic bounds for consumers to make; especially those who believe in producers that easily diversify between two things that can be complemented with similar adjectives. 

Frescobaldi Olive Oil

You’re probably wondering about the “Who?” and the “Where?” aspects of this post, and assuredly, I’m going to answer your questions. Ideally, the whole search really ends up being too easy if you’ve ever been to a Whole Foods market, or stepped-in to a gourmandize’s corner shop that excels in all things foreign. But what’s interesting and most easy to grasp, is that if you’ve ever seen a bottle of Frescobaldi Chianti, then you’re in luck, because the same quality that they reserve for the Sangiovese grape is nothing but a transport for the bottling of the most ubiquitous agent used in Italian cooking aside from tomatoes and garlic. If you’re not the type to agree with predictability, Portugal is quickly becoming a place where the marketing, distribution and overall consumption of wine and oil, is becoming more confluent. Like any of the reds, whites, or the irreplaceable vino verde, the interest in Portuguese products have wained, leaving the country to examine the potential successes of adding “Azeite” to their portfolio. If Monte Velho is something you can easily recall, then you would know there’s a red blend and an unblended sort of golden-greenery that each cost ten dollars and only require a little extra change. “Esporao” is a bit more familiar as the responsible producer, but it’s “Galega” olives are presented on your table side.   

What’s most striking, is the strict regard in which both Italy and Portugal have held their grapes and olives. The finished exports are expertly scrutinized well beyond recognized denominational practices, and continue to dominate our thinking when it comes to “good taste.” It’s sometimes hard to compare oil and wine, but there’s a nice similarity to the concept that one can work just as hard to bolster nuance from two different fruits that yield the same olfactory and gustatory sensations. One may not be as practical over the other, but with personal reasons dividing our potential excitement, who is to say that either is better? It’s like the Tea Vs. Coffee epidemic, but without the same need to polish-off a bottle of something labeled: “Extra-Virgin.” All I can say, is that the shelf-life of pressed olive pulp is evidently longer than the typical red, or white; which makes me wonder...How is it that we can mentally grasp spending ten-to-fifteen dollars on a cuvée that lasts forty-eight hours and never on something that can generate meals for an entire month?

Sorry olives, you’re just not equipped for instant gratification.

Brian Maniotis

Wine Warehouse Team

Visit us @: westchesterwine.com 

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