Tasting Room

My poor neglected wine blog! I may not have posted here for more than five years, but rest assured this does not mean I have stopped drinking wine. Interestingly, my tastes have changed somewhat; whereas previously I was fairly critical of whites, I've come to enjoy them much more. For a while my favorite was Little Penguin Chardonnay . . . then it disappeared from the stores for a time . . . and when it came back it just wasn't the same. (Maybe they had a bad year and I should try it again?) Meanwhile my favorite white is the chardonnay from Bogle Vineyards. And our go-to red is the Marques de Riscal Rioja.

But that is not why I came here today. I'm here to tell you about Tasting Room. It's my birthday today (happy birthday to me!) and one gift my husband gave me was a Tasting Room subscription. It starts with a little book-sized box containing six tiny bottles of wine: two white, four red. They're meant to be compared in pairs. After tasting, we sign in to our account at tastingroom.com/rate and click our favorites, and future shipments (of full-sized bottles) are based on our preferences from this tasting kit. At least I think that's how it works. Right here at the beginning of the subscription it's possible I have a few details wrong.

We started with the whites at lunch today: Uenuku Sauvignon Blanc 2017 (New Zealand) and Morningside Chardonnay 2016 (Australia). Unfortunately for refinement of my future Tasting Room shipments, I liked them both. The sauvignon blanc was light, crisp, citrusy and a bit sweet--I tend to avoid sweet wines, but maybe I shouldn't, because I really liked this one. It reminded me of cheese boards on the piazza at 86 Cannon in Charleston. The chardonnay was perfectly nice, and more similar to what I would usually drink . . . although I must admit I added my old reliable Bogle to this tasting flight and preferred it.

We haven't dipped into the reds yet but plan to do so over a cheese board here at home this afternoon. I can't promise I'll ever get around to writing about those . . . we'll see.

Flat Creek Estate Muscato D'Arancia Orange Muscat 2010 Texas

Bottle 2 of 7 is on the table tonight.

Here's why I bought this one:

Slight residual sugars enhance the fruit flavors and balance the acidity in this food-friendly wine.  Aromas of orange blossom and magnolia match the soft texture.

OK, that, and the fact that I might have possibly been in a buying frenzy. Because that description, while nice (I especially like the bit about orange blossom and magnolia!), is not quite as enticing as it was in my memory. However, I loved that Purple Cow Muscat so much that it sure would be nice to find another one like it that might be easier to obtain.

So, the bottle (which, by the way, has another Carrollesque Drink Now label) is slightly smaller than most, at 500 mL as compared to 750 (sad face), but it was also cheaper than its larger brethren at Flat Creek (happy face). It has a pleasingly long and narrow shape. The wine is a pretty sunshiney golden color. And (while once again wondering just how suggestible I might be) I do catch a faint whiff of orange.

To taste, the wine is just a bit sweeter than I'd like. But for a Muscat, where some sweetness is expected, this is not a valid complaint. Without a side-by-side comparison it's hard to say for sure, but I have the feeling that the Purple Cow Muscat was more to my liking. But even if this one is not my favorite, it's still very enjoyable. I like the fruity flavor, and it's nice to have a white wine that I don't find bland or musty or one of those other negative descriptors I've used for whites in the past.

As for "orange blossom and magnolia" . . . I have discovered something interesting tonight. If I tell myself, "This tastes like orange!" and then take a sip, it tastes like orange. If I say, "This tastes like peach!" and take a sip, I taste peach. If I say, "This tastes like pear!" and sip . . . asparagus. (Just kidding. It's pear.) I'd like to believe this says more about the fruity flavor of this wine than it says about the inability of my palate to distinguish between flavors, but I must admit I'm not convinced of that fact.

Here's the official verdict. If you are looking for a sweet summery wine, I'll say this one gets two thumbs up. If putting "sweet" and "wine" together in the same sentence is not for you, move along.

Flat Creek Estate Rosé 2012 Texas

Just over two years ago I had a lovely and memorable visit to a winery near Austin, Texas, called Flat Creek Estate. I've been meaning to write about their wines ever since, but it just hasn't happened.

UNTIL NOW!! 

You'll have to continue waiting an undetermined length of time to hear about the wines I tried two years ago, but I currently have the exciting opportunity to try a few new Flat Creek bottles. I'm going to draw out the suspense and not list the other wines here yet, but I will tell you that this very evening I found seven (SEVEN!!) different Flat Creek bottles on my doorstep, nestled all safe and snug in a tidy shipping box. I was all but giddy as I liberated them from their packaging, trying to decide where to start and wondering how quickly I could get some chilled.

My first question was answered by THIS on the label of the Rosé:

I know what Alice would
have done . . . same thing
I did!

My second question was answered by a bit of googling (and the answer was 20 minutes in the freezer).

So. You know I go for reds. Why did I choose something pinkish? Here's what sold me:

Strawberry, raspberry, and watermelon explode out of the glass, then follow through on the palate with intensity. The lively acidity helps extend the finish and reveal just a hint of pepper, lasting just long enough for the next sip.

Sounds so summery! So fruity! And I can't resist any wine that claims a hint of pepper.

With my rosé wine that I have been commanded to Drink Now after a twenty minute stint in the freezer, it's time to put it to the test. Of course, fond memories of Flat Creek predispose me to a favorable opinion of this wine, but I'm not going to be swayed by sentiment.

Ready?

The real thing is a very beautiful pinkish color that glows in the light. And I do smell berries. And the taste? Ah, it's heaven! Light and fresh and crisp, a slight sweetness--not too much, no depressing flashbacks of wine coolers here--and a peppery tang. Not something I would reach for in the dead of winter, but a perfect wine for warmer weather.

Score! Kathy likes Flat Creek Estate Rosé 2012.

Crème de Lys Chardonnay 2010 California

The lady at Tom's Jug House (yes, Tom's is a new one for me!) made this wine sound SO GOOD. Of course, she mostly just read the yummy bits off the label aloud to me: "Rich and creamy . . . lush flavors of tropical fruit, baked apple and citrus . . . VANILLA AND CRÈME BRÛLÉE!" (I really think she actually shouted that last part.)

She sold me on it. Quickly. She had me at "You ought to try this one," in fact. But I forgot about the part where I don't really care much for white wine. (Have I mentioned that before?) And not only that, but when I tasted it I didn't get the richness, the creaminess, the fruits, the vanilla OR the crème brûlée (sad face). It tasted a bit bland (watery, even!) and it made my mouth long for a solid, spicy red. What I really need to do is recognize the fact that when I am craving crème brûlée, I shouldn't bother reaching for a wine that claims it tastes like that most delectable of desserts. That's like eating baked chips! Or listening to one of the more recent Journey albums! And if I'm looking for something "rich and creamy" this close to Christmas, I should really just go straight for the eggnog. (Yeah, and now my mouth is watering.)

But the experiment was not a total loss, because I was introduced to Tom's Jug House, and that is exciting for two reasons. First, because (though I suppose this could be attributed to the novelty of the place) they seemed to have a different--and wider--selection of wine than I've grown accustomed to. And second, because they have Wine Wednesdays! That sounds great. *I* should have Wine Wednesdays. (Who am I kidding? I have Wine Every Day days.) But at Tom's Jug House, Wine Wednesdays means 10% off all wine! Now, I was too delirious with joy during my visit to notice whether that's actually a good deal, or whether a wine sale just means TJH just brings their prices down to Party Factory levels. But I'll definitely be visiting Tom's again. On a Wednesday!

I probably won't listen to the recommendations for whites next time, though.

Battle of the Pinot Noirs

It's about time I posted on my wine blog again! I've had a trio of bottles waiting on me to do a tasting flight. It's been so long since I bought them that I somehow started thinking they were Rieslings, but NO--they're all Pinot noir! How could I have made them wait so long?

Of these three bottles, we're covering three different years and three different countries.

Just had to show you the cutesy
 little penguin footprints
imprinted on the foil

Up first is the 2010 Little Penguin from south eastern Australia. The label tells me to look for delicate flavors of cherry and strawberry with a hint of spice. It's the brightest, reddest one of the three, and OH, it smells so good! Maybe that's just because it's been too long since I've had a Pinot noir. But I do smell red berries. As for the taste: Wow, that's quite sweet for a Pinot noir. Not too sugary-sweet, though; just fruity-sweet. It takes a bit for the spiciness to come out, but after a moment it hits with a zing.

Next is the 2009 Red Bicyclette from Vin de Pays D'Oc, France. The label claims enticing aromas of fresh red fruits and a soft, smooth mouthfeel. It looks slightly orange-red in my glass (though I'm sure some of you would call it pink-red instead). Oddly enough, there's not much to the nose. Maybe it's not completely odorless, but it's close. And, well, there's not much to the taste, either.

Finally, it's the 2008 Cupcake Vineyards from the central coast of California. The label suggests the bright aroma of cherries with a touch of red currants and a hint of spices. It's "reminiscent of a cherry cupcake with currant coulis*" (whatever that is). I see there's a slight purplish tinge to the deep red color, and it's not quite as clear as the other two (or maybe it's just in a glass that's a tad more smudgy? I'll never tell). It has more of a sharp green odor than the other two, though that's not necessarily a bad thing. Something about it makes me want to break out the cheddar cheese. The taste, however, is not great. It's rather bland. But I'm sure the cheese will help, and if you'll give me a moment I'll let you know . . . YES, it's excellent with cheese. But only with the cheese.

I wonder if the poor Red Bicyclette would be helped by cheese?
Let's see . . . nope. For whatever reason, that one actually tastes worse with cheese.

My verdict: I like Australia's Little Penguin the best, although California's Cupcake with cheddar cheese is a close second. The French Pinot noir was my least favorite, although if France keeps all of her best wines to herself, that's not too surprising.

*I looked up coulis for you, and apparently it's like gravy made of fruit. I'm sure it tastes better than it sounds.

Chateau Ste Michelle Riesling 2009 Columbia Valley

I'm hoping to convince my book club girls that they really do like Real Wine (instead of that good-but-just-barely-wine Electra). My subtle method is to force them to try new wines at our meetings. The girls seem to favor sweeter wines, so this month I brought a Riesling. The label says it's in the middle of the road, right between medium dry and medium sweet.

What can I say about its appearance, other than that it is a nice clear pee yellow? (Red wine is just so much prettier.) This Riesling has a very pleasant and fresh taste, and I totally get the pear that the label mentions. The peach is much more subtle, although that's actually a good thing for me. I still harbor a massive taste aversion from the Unfortunate Peach Schnapps Incident of the late 80s.

So it appears that I've finally found another white that I like, to go with the lovely Purple Cow Muscat. I need to do a Riesling tasting flight to see if I prefer this one to any others. Unfortunately the Book Club Girls were not so appreciative. (That's not entirely disastrous . . . more for me!) I'll just have to keep working on them. Any recommendations for Gateway Wines?

OH noes

Now you know I'm high class

Ohmagoodness, I have used up my box of wine. I always keep a box of wine in the house only just so that I will never ever run out. It is time for a trip out of the dry county.

In the meantime, I have been intending to mention that the box of wine I have had, a burgundy (my first, I think . . . isn't it a shame that it wasn't in a bottle) had quite an interesting feature. If I drank it while eating popcorn, the combination tasted just like chocolate!

Are you taking notes on how to be a wino?

1. Drink wine from box
2. Drink wine with popcorn (or anything else you can imagine)
3. Cry when wine runs out and vow to ensure that it will never happen again

Shirazorama

My super-cool cousin, Lori, gave me a lovely bottle of wine during our last visit. (I knew she was my favorite cousin for a reason.) Lori, bless her heart, is not a wine drinker, and I haven't had time to convert her yet. I mean, yeah, I've known her since before I was born, but she lives far away and I don't get to see her often. Thus, Cousin Lori's wine-drinking status is a work in progress.

Meanwhile, I get to enjoy the (fermented) fruits of her shortcoming. At some point she had been given a 2004 bottle of Rosemount Estate Shiraz as a gift (from someone who doesn't know her well, obviously. OR . . . could it have been a fellow wine evangelist?) The bottle followed her on several moves and quite possibly had questionable storage circumstances on more than one occasion, but I have high hopes that the wine will still be enjoyable. And tonight--tonight!!--I will find out.

But wait, there's more. During my most recent hunting and gathering expedition to the Party Factory, I picked up a pair of bottles for a horizontal tasting (yeah, I had to look up the terminology to refresh my memory, so to keep you from having to do the same thing: that's a comparison of wines from the same vintage but different wineries) and the pair I picked up happened to be two 2008 Shirazes. (Shirazi? Shirazeses? Whatever.)

By a happy coincidence--or perhaps some sort of strange subconscious guidance?--guess what one of those two bottles was? None other than a 2008 Rosemount Estate Shiraz. I didn't even realize the serendipitous duplication until I got the two new bottles home where they belonged. So tonight I bring you not only a horizontal tasting, but a concurrent vertical tasting as well (different vintages of the same wine type from the same winery).

The other 2008 Shiraz is a [yellow tail], and as the odd man out, I will begin with the description of that one. The label claims mulberry, spice and smooth vanilla (sounds excellent), as well as an "approachable, fresh, flavorsome personality all of its own." Now THAT sounds like a wine I could be friends with.

The 2004 Rosemount is described as "intense, spicy fruit with a richly textured finish . . . [and] subtle oak." I guess by 2008 they gave up trying to describe their Shiraz, because that label doesn't give me any help. I guess I'm on my own there. But the bottle is kind of cool because it's square at the bottom. Unique. I just hope that's not the best part of the wine.

The 2004 bottle, by the way, isn't without its own pleasant little idiosyncrasies: a cute little red wax seal on top of the cork instead of foil, and a great big lip around the edge of the mouth that almost kept me from letting out that extra (and for me, apparently inevitable) drip.

First, a good look at each. Of course they're all a beautiful deep dark red, and nearly opaque. The 2004 Rosemount has a discouraging brownish tinge which I'm hoping is not a portent of doom. The 2008 Rosemount is a pure ruby red, and the [yellow tail] is just a tad purplish. I am not sure if Shiraz is commonly an amputee, but I'm not really seeing much in the way of legs on any of these three. The 2008 Rosemount is a definite Bob (you know, what you would call a legless man in the ocean). But since I have no idea what legs on wine might signify, I'm not too worried about that.

Now for the sniff test. Mmmm, the 2008 Rosemount smells good. Good and spicy. The 2004 Rosemount smells disappointingly bland. But, urg, it smells better than the [yellow tail]. (Do I really have to type those pretentious little brackets every time?) It doesn't have a strong aroma, but it smells a bit green. Already I'm predisposed to prefer the 2008 Rosemount.

And now--yippee, the best part!--to taste each one.

Ahhh, the 2008 Rosemount is lovely. Spicy, a little tangy, and a very smooth finish. I'm afraid this may be one of those that is all too easy to drink!

The 2004 Rosemount is not as bad as I expected, though it tastes every bit as bland as it smells. It really just tastes kind of watery, though I'm sure several years of less-than-ideal storage conditions are to blame.

The 2008 [yellow tail] is a pleasant surprise. I think I really do taste a bit of berries and vanilla. It doesn't have the zippy spice of the 2008 Rosemount, but it's definitely worth drinking--though I must admit I've not met many wines that aren't.

My vote is for the 2008 Rosemount Estate Shiraz. I'm still in search of the Best Wine Ever, but this was a nice little pit stop on the journey.

Alexander Valley "Sin Zin" Zinfandel 2007 California

Tonight, for the first time in too long, I broke out my super-sassy uptown foil cutter (I'm still amazed at how well it works!) and pulled the cork on a new wine, suggestion courtesy of Tracy. It is "Sin Zin," and check out that uninhibited fellow on the label. That's me right now, except I'm on my couch instead of under a tree. And, OK, I'm clothed more modestly. And not exactly doing funnels.

My great big goblet is filled with a deep dark ruby-red wine. Call me crazy, but I smell nutty almond with a faint breath of apple. It's not an especially loud smell, but I like it. My first sip: very tart, to the extent that any flavor seems overpowered, but there's this wonderful, amazingly peppery aftertaste. Spicy, spicy! I love it.

If I am to believe the back of the bottle, I should be smelling "a bright, expressive nose bursting with red fruits" and tasting "a palate loaded with raspberries, strawberries and black pepper." I kind of wonder if the person who made up that description even tasted the wine, except for the part about the pepper. I'm picturing a freelance writer who threw a bunch of wine words into a hat and this is what he drew out. He is now excitedly telling his friends and family members he's been published on the back of the Sin Zin bottle.

According to the Alexander Valley website, if I'd had the 2008 instead, I would have been the recipient in a delivery of "heady aromas of black cherry, eucalyptus, cocoa and mint, and flavors of black cherry, plum, vanilla, and black pepper." That sounds like a completely different wine from their description of the 2007. Sure makes me wish I had one of each so I could compare them!

Oops. I just remembered I forgot to let this wine breathe before I tried it. Impatience strikes again. Maybe that is why I am missing out on the raspberries and strawberries. But, you know, missing out with a glass of wine in hand is not really missing out.

Quady Electra Orange Muscat (didn't get the year) California

I was thrilled to try a new wine at Wine Club Book Club tonight. This was another light and fresh Muscat and it was quite good. To me, it tasted a bit more sweet than both of the Purple Cow Muscats I've tried, but I still enjoyed it. It's a low-alcohol wine (just barely beyond grape juice) but it paired nicely with our book discussion.

Here's the winemaker's description:

"With the first sip you feel the wine--light as springtime, delicately sweet, refreshingly crisp, a bouquet of flowers with the taste of peach and melon. Electra is electricity for the mouth!"

I don't know about the electricity part, but I definitely agree that it's light, sweet and crisp.

Kendall-Jackson Meritage 2006 California

I'm high class now. I got me a foil cutter. I love it! It's so much more convenient (and neat! and efficient!) than pulling the cork out through the foil and then peeling off the loose pieces. Now all I need is one of those drip-catcher ring thingies, because no matter how I pour it I can't help but end up with a dribble of wine down the bottle's neck, and then I can't help but lick that drip off the bottle, and this is a habit I need to break before I catch myself doing it in public. Because, foil cutter or not, licking the bottle is not high class.

Anyway. I've been wanting to try a Meritage (rhymes with heritage) ever since the last time my friend Amy came to visit and told me about it. (By the way, Amy, it's time for another visit. It's been too long!) The label calls this a "Bordeaux-style blend [66% Cabernet Sauvignon, 32% Merlot, 1% Cabernet Franc, 1% Petit Verdot] from several cooler regions with elevated vineyards delivering distinct flavors [and a] sumptuous texture. Roasted coffee, dark chocolate, pomegranate and black cherry intertwine [ha, I almost typed "interwine" and wondered what the heck kind of word that was] giving you a multi-layered full mouthfeel." 

Yeah, that's what I'm talking about. How in the world did they come up with that combination of flavors? Well, I love the smell of coffee, and dark chocolate could quite possibly be the best thing ever invented (even better than that sliced bread everyone keeps talking about). Throw in a few fruits and you've got yourself a party. 

As I was giving the bottle a bit of time to breathe, my ever-helpful husband came poking around and gave his own keen analysis of Meritage: *sniff sniff* "Your wine smells like puke." *sip sip* "Tastes like puke too." Sounds like he needs to stick with his Jack Daniel's. 

The wine is a beautiful, deep, dark purplish red, nearly opaque. I really can smell rich chocolatey goodness. Unfortunately, I didn't especially like my first sip. I mean, it definitely didn't taste like puke, but it surprised me with its somewhat bitter flavor. Remember how I said I like the smell of coffee? Well, curiously enough, I don't like the flavor of coffee. Maybe that is my problem with this wine. 

Perhaps I was more prepared for the wine's flavor during subsequent sips, because it grew on me a bit, though it never became an absolute favorite. It does have a nice, warm, spicy finish. I like spicy. My verdict: I probably won't buy this wine again, but I won't mind finishing off the bottle. 

The Muscat You've Been Waiting For

My husband hates his job and is threatening to quit (again), so pretty soon I may not be able to afford wine, or at least I will have to drink it all from a box. May as well enjoy these bottles while I can. But what better wine to enjoy than my wonderful new discovery of Purple Cow Muscat! Here's that 2008 vs. 2009 tasting flight I promised you.

This Muscat is made from the Muscat Ottanel grape, while the Moscato d'Asti I'd previously tried (which I didn't really care for) is from Muscat Blanc à Petits Grains. I'm not sure how much of the difference comes from the grapes themselves and how much is from the winemaking process, but I found a huge variation between these Muscats and that Moscato d'Asti. I loved these Purple Cow wines! Both of them!

I first opened the 2009, which is called "off-dry." The Purple Cow website says it has 1% residual sugar with a coconut, peach, and honeysuckle nose, and that it's dry enough to enjoy with food.

Next was the "supremely dry" 2008. The website says this "was a very cool year with a long, dry autumn. Its effect on the Muscat vintage was near perfection. The varietal character came out strong and naturally created a nice sugar/acid balance. The only downside to this vintage was that the yield was very poor, so there isn't much to go around . . . classic Muscat aromas of peach, honeysuckle, magnolia, and coconut are framed in a very subtle package that is excellent for many food pairings." It's also described as a very intense vintage with a high skin/seed to weight ratio.

The 2008 does have a stronger aroma than the 2009, in which I can certainly smell more sweetness, but they both smell great. I could probably convince myself that I'm smelling peach, honeysuckle and coconut, but then if the bottle had claimed it smelled like strawberries, lemons, and rocks, I probably would have believed that too. The 2008 has no sweetness to it at all and has a nice tart aftertaste, but it is still light and fresh, just like my sister said. The 2009 seems calmer and more relaxed. (Or maybe that's just me). I can definitely taste more sugar in the 2009. It's almost like the 2008 is wine with the essence of grapefruit juice, and the 2009 is the same with an added dusting of sugar on top.

Along the way, I learned something new. Allow me to pass it along to you! What I have done tonight is called a "vertical tasting," meaning I have compared the same wine through different vintages. This is as oppposed to--you guessed it--a "horizontal tasting," which is not at all what it sounded like to me. That would be comparing a group of wines from the same vintage or of the same style (such as all Pinot Noirs, or that Malbec vs. Malbec tasting I last did), and has nothing to do with bed. Both differ from my usual willy-nilly tasting, which I suppose would be considered "diagonal," or perhaps even "skew."

I believe in this vertical tasting we have what one might term a draw. There is a slight though distinct difference between these two wines, but I wouldn't kick either one out of bed. And it's great to have finally found a white wine that I love. Keep that in mind if you see me on the side of the interstate holding a hand-lettered cardboard sign that reads, "Will work for wine."

The package has arrived!

My smiling Mr. FedEx just paid me a visit and left me a box I've been eagerly awaiting all week long. It's merely inauspicious brown cardboard, but it's just the right size and shape to hold two bottles of wine. It's my shipment of Muscat from the Purple Cow Vineyards in Forest Grove, Oregon!

It all started when my sister told me about a Spanish Muscat she tried that was very similar to those she has enjoyed in Alsace. I was surprised by this, because I know she's even less interested in sweet wine than I am, and I thought it must be similar to the Moscato d'Asti that I didn't especially care for. When I asked her about this, here's how she described the kind of Muscat that she likes: "The ones I have had have been very dry. It has a very fruity flavor, with a distinct note of citrus. So the wine has a very light, fresh taste."

Though I tend to like reds much better than whites, this description sounded great to me. So when I researched Muscat online and found that those of the Purple Cow Vineyards are favorably compared to what is made in Alsace, I was pretty excited to try it. I was even more excited to hear that the 2008 vintage is considered "dry"--in fact, the Purple Cow website called it a "cult classic for its supreme dryness"--and the 2009 is "off dry"--it was chilled with 1% residual sugar--which sounded like a perfect combination for one of my fun little taste tests. If there is anything I enjoy more than tasting a new wine, it is comparing two or three so I can try to decide which one I like best.

My only complaint about this whole procedure is that, in ordering these bottles from the Purple Cow website, I basically ended up buying two bottles for the price of . . . three. But I am in hopes that it will have been worth it. I've got the bottles chilling right now. I'm not sure I'll be up long enough for a taste test tonight, since I have to get up at the butt crack of dawn for work in the morning, but I promise one is forthcoming as soon as is humanly possible.

Oh, yeah, and speaking of "as soon as possible"--I do realize it has been more than two months since my last post. Rest assured that this is not because I haven't been enjoying a glass of wine on occasion. If you were pitying my lack of posting, understand that this did not mean a lack of quaffing. There was just nothing to write home about . . . until now.

Are you wondering at the picture? No, that's not what my FedEx guy looks like (thank goodness). That's not even what I look like right now, even though I am pretty happy. It's because for some reason, no matter how I rearranged my Google search terms for a Purple Cow Muscat image, Austin Powers kept popping up. I took it as a sign.

Malbec vs. Malbec

Tonight, for the first time, it's a fair fight. (I think.) Not only am I comparing one Malbec to another, but they are both freshly opened.

First we have Don Rodolfo's 2007 Malbec, which happens to have an annoyingly hard-to-read sideways label, but I have gone through the great effort of reading it for you to find that this wine is described as "big, rich, and deeply flavored, with notes of red berries, cassis, and plums." Sounds great, but of course I know that's the whole point of putting a description on the label--to make the wine sound good. I had to look up "cassis"--it's a synonym for "black currants," which I have heard of before. I hope you are relieved.

Next we have High Note 2008 Malbec, with a "deep violet hue, smooth velvety texture and vibrant fruit aromas." A slightly more generic description, but still sounds like something I might like.

So here is what I think of the two wines. The Rodolfo is a very deep brownish red, and the High Note looks almost identical except it is slightly more purple. I really can smell red berries, maybe strawberries, in the Rodolfo, and it makes me want to eat cheese with it which isn't such a good thing at this time of night. The High Note smells more bright and green. The Rodolfo is smooth and dry and spicy, and has a slight coffee-like aftertaste; the High Note really does feel velvety (just how suggestible am I?), and is even more dry, but is a little bit bland.

I think I prefer the Rodolfo, but I may need to do a blind test next time because I have a feeling I was swayed by the yummier label description. I also wonder how much difference the vintage makes between these two wines. Would the High Note be more complex and more enjoyable next year? Too bad I'll never know.

Here's something interesting about Malbec: Argentina (where both of these wines originated) is very well-suited to growing the Malbec grape, due to its high altitude, intense sunlight, cool temperatures and dry atmosphere.

St. James Winery Strawberry Wine from Missouri

Finally a new post. It's been a while, hasn't it! Well, here's my excuse. After cutting back to just a couple of glasses of wine each week to avoid the fatness, it took me a while to finish off several open bottles I had on hand. I downed the rest of the final bottle last night in conjunction with a re-stocking trip to the Party Factory. In keeping with my new resolution to compare apples to apples, I bought two different bottles of Malbec, which you will be hearing about in a future post. (I would have purchased three or four, but the store only had 4 kinds of Malbec available, and I've already tried two of them. Obviously I bought the other two).

Now for Something Different. Just out of curiosity, I bought me a bottle of Strawberry Wine. It's in a screwcap bottle and there's no year on it, if that tells you anything. If not, the photo ought to say it all. It looks just like a bottle of strawberry soda pop. It's a pretty, clear, pinkish red color, and doesn't have much of a smell to it at all. I'm not getting the "hint of almonds and the essence of violets." Not surprisingly (especially since right there on the bottle it's called "sweet wine") it is very, very sweet. The only thing that keeps it from being a wine cooler is the lack of bubbles. That doesn't mean I don't like it, though. It's just that, for me, it really doesn't belong in the "wine" category. It fits with Cherry Limeade Frosties and Fufu Berry Jones Soda (both of which I really enjoy, but neither of which I turn to when in search of wine).

Bottom line: fun stuff, but even with 11.5% alcohol it doesn't deserve to be called wine.

It's time . . .

I worked all weekend and my house looks like an elephant took a dump in it. In other words, it's Sunday night. This calls for another of my own personal private wine tastings. Maybe then I can focus on the fact that my kids are in bed and there's all kinds of peace and quiet to be appreciating until 7 a.m.

Tonight it's the Jacob's Creek Reserve Shiraz, Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, Rex-Goliath Pinot Noir, Layer Cake Primitivo, and a boxed Cab. (It's Franzia, in case you wanted to know, but does it really matter?) Since you probably don't feel like going back and reading those posts (heck, I don't even want to), I'll give you the short version of what I thought of each previously.

The Jacob's Creek was smoky, spicy and nice. The Alexander Valley was a little dry, and mild but complex. (I'm expecting this one to be the winner tonight, by the way.) The Rex-Goliath was fruity but unremarkable (and my favorite in the last tasting flight). The Layer Cake was acidic, green, and smoky--good but not great. The boxed Cab was green and tart.

Ok, so first I'm giving them each the sniff test. They each have a distinct smell. The Jacob's Creek, well, it just smells like wine to me. The Alexander Valley still has that flowery smell. The Rex Goliath smells beer-y (though back when I opened it, it smelled fruity. Maybe it's gone bad . . . after all, it's been more than two months since I opened it). The Layer Cake smells sweet. The boxed Cab smells kind of bad. Like cheese. Or feet. I wonder if I would have had a more favorable opinion if this had been a blind test.

I think I actually like the Jacob's Creek Shiraz the best, although the Alexander Valley (definitely the unique one of the bunch) is nearly as good; it's just different, and I find the Shiraz more pleasant. I'm afraid the Rex-Goliath just isn't right anymore. It is definitely my least favorite of the five, but it would be nice to be able to compare a freshly-opened bottle of it to the others. The Layer Cake is a little bit too sweet, and I'm sure it has changed since I first opened it a month ago, because my previous call (acidic, green, smoky) does not match up at all anymore. The boxed Cab was the most boring one, but it is a decent backup, and it actually tasted the best with the crackers and cheese I tried with each wine.

I know what I need to start doing: I should do my taste tests on freshly-opened bottles. Guess that means I need to get me some more unopened bottles.

Alexander Valley Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon 2007 Healdsburg, California

I suppose I have been saving this bottle for a semi-special occasion, and what better occasion than Friday night, herald of the weekend? My reason for waiting to try this wine is because my expectations are so high and I have been postponing the inevitable disappointment. The wine guy at the Party Factory assured me that any Alexander Valley wine has excellent flavor, no matter the varietal. (Apparently they have more than one wine guy; I don't think I've seen the same one twice, but I wish I could find the one who sold me the Mark West Pinot Noir, because so far he's the only one who has convinced me he knows what he's talking about) Funny that this is the second bottle in a row I've had that could have been cellared; the label claims it will "continue to develop in the bottle for a decade or more." Suffice it to say that won't be happening with this bottle.

The label isn't very descriptive. It's one of those that is more about the history of the vintner. That's OK, though, (if not as fun), because most times it seems like the creative label descriptions I often come across are just completely made up. It's like they just throw together an interesting combination of fruits, spices, and other odoriferous compounds to see if you'll fall for it and buy the bottle. Anyway, the most this label says about the wine is that it is "rich in color with concentrated fruit and moderate tannins." It also mentions that the blend was achieved with small amounts of Merlot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec and Petit Verdot. (And yeah, I know I'm a wine dummy, but I thought Cabernet Sauvignon was a varietal all to itself. I would have thought if it was mixed with other kinds, they would have called it something else. But what do I know. I'm good at drinking it, and that's about it.)

I boogered up the cork when I was opening this bottle. It's not like I haven't done this a time or two. But rather than complain, I will just appreciate the fact that it didn't have a screw-cap.

The label was certainly correct about the rich color. It's very opaque, and a deep reddish purple. The wine smells excellent--an almost flowery smell; also maybe a little bit nutty . . . not almond . . . not cashew . . . not peanut . . . I don't know, maybe it's not a nut at all. Maybe it's a sunflower seed. Seriously, I'm thinking sunflower seeds and roses. It makes me think of my garden. Even though I don't grow roses. I would like to, but they intimidate me.

The wine is somewhat dry, and has a mild but distinct flavor. There is a faint pineapple-like tartness and a comforting sense of white rice, but the main flavor is a warm and cozy caramel. It took me a long time to figure that out. A long, enjoyable time. I think this might be what they call a complex wine.

Gosh, they should hire me to make stuff up for their label. Roses, sunflower seeds, pineapple, rice, and caramel. Who wouldn't buy that?

Jacob's Creek Reserve Shiraz 2006 South Australia

It's been a while since I've opened a new bottle of wine, even though I've had two waiting on me for weeks. This is mainly because one of the other things I learned from Mark Phillips' book is that drinking wine makes you fat. So while I still don't think there's anything necessarily wrong with drinking one glass of wine each evening, I have cut back to one glass once or twice a week.

Well, it's Friday night, the kids are in bed, one of my stupid dogs ate one of my stupider chickens this afternoon, and I have a whole mess of laundry to fold, so I'd say the situation calls not only for a glass of wine, but for something new instead of my old standby out of the box. I'm going with the Shiraz I picked up two trips-to-the-Party-Factory ago, which was the first time I was looking for a bottle of Layer Cake and chickened out because it was too expensive. (Don't laugh. Remember, I'm cheap. I mean thrifty.)

The description on the back of the bottle, as always, sounds great: "This premium, full-bodied wine . . . displays intense ripe plum flavors with pepper spice, balanced by soft tannins and leading to a lingering smooth finish." Of course it also adds that this is "a wine that will develop further with cellaring," but I just don't do cellaring since I lack the resources and the patience.

So. The wine is nice. I liked it a lot. Didn't really notice any plumminess. (Is that a word? Even if it's not, I'm sure you get the idea.) A little smoky (or is this from the Chick-fil-a sandwich my son set on fire in the microwave earlier this evening?), nicely spicy, but in need of a comparison for me to decide if I like it more or less than other wines I've tried. After I open the last bottle I have waiting on me I'll have to do another tasting flight. Wait, did I say "have to"? I meant "get to"!

Layer Cake Primitivo a.k.a. Zinfandel 2007 IGT Puglia, Italy

I got the Layer Cake. I bit the bullet and sprung for the $17+ bottle of wine. This may be my most expensive one yet!

I was headed for the Layer Cake Shiraz, but the Party Factory was out of that, so I ended up with the Primitivo instead. That's just fine with me, because I like to try new things. And apparently Primitivo is not just one new thing for me, but two: the Primitivo variety of grape is genetically equivalent to the Zinfandel variety, and although I've certainly had white Zin before, this is my first red.

I love the way Layer Cake's web site describes this wine (except for maybe that bit about tar):

"A balance of elegance and power; inky black fruit, spice and white pepper, jammy black cherries, plums, blackberry fruit, truffles, tar, and espresso. Warm and rich in the mouth with a creamy texture; the ripe fruit is well supported by the deep structure of the wine."

Even better is the description on the bottle label:

"Wine, if properly made, is like a great layer cake: fruit, mocha and chocolate, hints of spice and rich, always rich. 'Never pass up a layer cake.'"

Words to live by!

But mostly what I got from it was an acidic and green but smoky flavor. Good stuff! But I'm not sure it's worth twice as much as some other decent wines I've tried.

Bridgeview Blue Moon Riesling 2007 Oregon

Why do I keep buying white wines? Granted, I don't buy them near as often as I buy reds, but I haven't quit yet, even though I never like them. I guess I just keep hoping I'll come across one that I enjoy. Or, should I say, one that I enjoy as much as I enjoy a red.

Part of my problem on my most recent trip to the Party Factory was that I had about 5 minutes in which to make my selections. I didn't want to be late to work on account of spending too long in buying wine. I was actually looking for a bottle of "Layer Cake," which I'd seen on a menu at a restaurant. It sounded so good to me, being a huge fan of chocolate cake (so much so that I am on an unofficial mission to try the chocolate cake at every restaurant in town to try to figure out whose is the best, which is the sort of mission where the journey is more important than the destination). I don't even remember what type of wine it was, except that it was a red. Well, after spending too many of my five precious minutes looking for Layer Cake wine, I found a bottle of their Shiraz, but I lost my nerve when I saw that it cost $17+. I'm more of a $12 to $15 bottle kind of girl. Not that the few extra dollars would break me; instead, this is based on the psychology of a cheapskate. If I know I can find something I like for cheaper than $17, it's hard to spend a little extra on something untried. So I bought a cheaper Shiraz that was right next to the Layer Cake (you'll be hearing about that one soon enough). I like to buy at least two bottles to make the drive to Arkansas worth my while, and the pretty blue bottle of this Riesling caught my eye.

I first tried this wine on Saturday night, and really didn't care for it, but I couldn't blog about it then because the Internet was broken. (At least at our house, not sure about the rest of the world). I must also mention that, as completely inappropriate as I'm sure this is, for half the day on Sunday I had a case of the stinkiest farts I can ever remember. I won't know until tomorrow if this was because of the wine or if it was some other unknown, never-to-be-discovered factor. I hope for the sake of the friends I'll be meeting with in the morning that it was the latter.

I am actually appreciating the wine more tonight on its second trial. Who knows if it is just because it is sufficiently chilled tonight (perhaps it didn't chill long enough before I tried it on Saturday), or if a few days in contact with oxygen has actually been good for this wine, or if it is related to what I have or haven't eaten tonight compared to the other night. Whatever the reason, without having to use my imagination too much I can taste the apple and honey-spice notes that the bottle label mentions, and it's not too bad. It isn't overly sweet, which is nice. But when I imagine a good robust red in comparison, I know this is just not my kind of wine. Suffice it to say that a pretty bottle is not a good way to choose a wine. As much as I like the idea of broadening my horizons, I really need to stick with the reds. At least until summer when I would appreciate the extra chill in my drink.