Wine writing
Splits let you sip more
(appeared in the Calgary Herald)
By Cinda Chavich
Writing about wine definitely has its privileges.
I have been to tastings where I have sipped and swirled the best Bordeaux's, the finest Burgundies, the very best the travelling winemakers of the world have offered to Calgary palates.
But a taste can be cruel, too. That inch of luscious liquid is fleeting - a couple of sniffs, a gurgle and slosh, and before you know it, you've scribbled a few tasting notes and the magical elixir is gone.
It's fun to say you've sipped a Chateau Margaux, sampled the great Sauternes or relished a top Rioja. But all of this fine tasting is just setting you up for a big fall.
Standing in the wine shop or liquor store, you're just like any other consumer - and with a similar disposable income for wine.
But your palate is shot. No longer are you satisfied with a simple sipper. Your tastebuds cry out for complexity but your wallet returns you to bag-in-box reality.
Like a shopper fingering the cashmere, I find myself cruising the premier crus, thirstily seeking a discontinued mark-down among the finest stock. Rarely can I justify plunking down more than $25 for a bottle of wine (although, ironically I've paid more for lesser vintages in restaurants). And sometimes I'm disappointed after I've cooked all day to create a special dinner and have to settle for something more pedestrian in my glass.
But now, some of France's top producers have come to my rescue.
Bordeaux's Chateau Pavie, Chateau Pavie-Decesse and Chateau La Clussiere (both 1er grade cru and grand cru classés from St. Emilion and owned by the Valettes) are offering their fine wines in half bottles.
Two hefty glasses in a 375-ml bottle - the perfect way to celebrate a shared success without breaking the bank.
Is it worth shelling out the big bucks for an expensive wine? As I usually tell people, it's often the finite supply and world demand that raises the prices of wines produced from a small, and limited, location in Europe. There are certainly wonderful wines at half the price, although you'll certainly notice a big difference between a good Bordeaux and an everyday $10 bottle.
These rare areas have proven to be some of the best places on the planet to cultivate the vine, and the wines are produced by people with generations of experience. I've had a chance to enjoy a few sips of many of these wines. Here are my impressions. Or for twenty bucks, take the plunge and make your own opinions. (The half bottles should be on the shelves by September or October)
- The 1992 Chateau Pavie 1er Grand Cru Classé is what incredible Bordeaux wine is all about. From the St-Emilion region, France's largest top quality wine area, it's grown in one of those priceless vineyards, the kind that can never expand but is as perfect for grape-growing as any could ever be. The average age of the vines here is 45 years, and some date back to the 1890s. The Merlot-based wine has an aroma of ripe berries andf the overall impression is balanced smoothness, a red wine that is rich and velvety in the mouth. This is a lovely wine from one of the world's top producers, definitely worth a taste for about $26 for a half bottle.
- 1992 Chateau Pavie-Decesse Grand Cru Classé. This is the junior partner of big brother Chateau Pavie, from the flatter land up above the legendary Pavie vineyards. It is a powerful wine, delicious and fruity with aromas of ripe berries and a dark, inky color. A half bottle of this great red wine is about $20, the even tastier1990 vintage, with softer tannins and oaky aromas, runs about $25-$26 for a 375-ml bottle.
- 1992 Chateau La Clussiere Grand Crus Classé. A half bottle of this St-Emilion wine runs about $17-$18, a smooth Merlot-based red from one of the oldest vineyards in the area.
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The first blush of summer
By Cinda Chavich
I knew I was in trouble the moment I asked her about the wine.
The server in this small American town didn't know anything about the red or the white house wines on the list. When I inquired about the rosé, she looked at me sideways and drawled,'Why, honey, y'all know it's just a mixture of the two."
No, nay, never! At least I sincerely hope not. Some less-than-stellar producers may begin their pink plonk that way, but it's certainly not de rigeur among rosé winemakers.
Rosé wines (or "blush" as they're now often called) are pink because they're made from red grapes which are pressed gently and left with the skins for only a few hours. The result: some of the usual red wine berry and red fruit flavors, without the body and tannins that make regular reds more challenging and complex.
The colour of pinks can range from a soft peach to a glittering coral, and everything in between. Not only do these brilliant blush wines make a pretty addition to a wedding buffet or a Sunday brunch, they are served chilled and so make perfect summer quaffers.
Imagine a day kicking back on the deck on a sultry afternoon. A white wine spritzer or a fruity sangria would do, but a dazzling pink wine from Provence is so much more stylish.
Hoisting a pale peach or brilliant strawberry-colored wine to glint in the summer sun adds much to the pink wine experience. And because there's very little tannin extracted from the red grape skins when the wine is made, rosés are generally light and easy to drink. Made to be consumed young, they are fresh, fruity and approachable.
Take the pretty pinks from the Rhone Valley of southern France. Rosés are allowed in most of the Rhone appellations and some, like Tavel, make only blush wines. These French rosés are typically dry, juicy and full of fruity raspberry and strawberry flavours - and are exceptional with food, especially those typical Mediterranean dishes of shellfish or mussels, olives, garlic and anchovies.
In California, Bonnie Doon has taken a page from that French tradition, making their fanciful and flavorful Vin Gris de Cigare (the one with the flying saucer on the label) with the Rhone-style Grenache and Syrah grapes. A similar pink product, the Vin Du Mistral rosé, is made by Joseph Phelps.
And there are pink wines from other parts of the world - the rosés from Baux-de-Provence or Coteaux du Languedoc, pink pinot noirs from Alsace, Loire Valley rosés from producers like Guy Saget, Hungarian "siller" pinks, weissherbst blush from Germany, and pink Champagne from top French producers like Pol Roger. Sutter Home even has an alcohol-free version of its popular white zinfandel under the Fré label.
But don't assume that if they're pink, they're super sweet. Those pink wines of the past (remember Baby Duck and Strawberry Angel) are history (although you may wish to revisit the cheap and cheerful Mateuse Rosé from Portugal some sunny afternoon). Many of the roses on the market today are dry wines that can be consumed with any of the lighter foods you'd normally pair with white wines, especially grilled salmon and poultry. Off-dry blush is also awesome with spicy Thai food, Szechuan or chili-sauced chicken wings - like chutney and curry, the sweet counters the heat. And it's a thirst-quencher.
It was probably the 1970s sea of ubiquitous California white zin that gave rosé wines such a bad name. But serve them again in the summer sun - there's no reason to blush.
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Whatever wine you like
(appeared in Avenue Magazine)
By Cinda Chavich
Forget everything you ever thought you knew about matching wine with food.
The white wine with fish, red wine with meat, rules are out the window. They only made sense in those days of continental cuisine, when fish always came with lemon butter and the steak was served with bordelaise sauce .
Today's best chefs might poach the arctic char in a Chinese five-spice broth, braise the beef in an orange basil jus, or brine the pork in maple syrup and drizzle it with vanilla oil. Classic matches might be messy, even fatal, to the food and the wine.
But never fear, learn how basic flavours react together, and you can make your favourite wine work with almost any dish.
At least that's the theory. I first heard this heresy from Tim Hanni, an American, self-described wine weenie who's made it his mission to debunk most of what other wine weenies hold sacred about food and wine pairing.
The first thing you need to understand is how things taste in the mouth. The five tastes you need to remember are salty, sweet, sour, bitter and "umami" (the glutamate component of all kinds of savoury stuff, from meat and broth to mushrooms and chocolate). We're programmed to like sweet and savoury the minute it hits our tongue - salty, sour and bitter elicit an equally swift negative reaction.
But everyone tastes things differently. What's sour to me, might be pleasantly tart to you. Some people love bitter greens and strong coffee, others never acquire the taste.
The one constant is how these tastes react together when combined. Sweet and savoury foods make all wine taste stronger, that is more dry (less sweet), acidic (sour) and tannic (bitter or astringent). The sweetness may come from sugar or something less obvious in the dish like sundried tomatoes, sherry or hoisin sauce.
On the other hand, add acidity to your food (vinegar or lemon juice) or kick up the saltiness with a pinch of sea salt (or soy sauce, olives or fish sauce) and whatever wine you have in your glass will become softer (that is, milder, sweeter, less acidic and less tannic or bitter). This is why the salad course can kill almost any wine the strong acidity of the vinaigrette overpowers any acid in the wine and it just tastes flat and flabby.
You can test these theories yourself by trying your favourite wine with a slice of raw apple. The sweetness of the apple will make a classic Cabernet Sauvignon taste stronger and more bitter. Then try adding a pinch of salt or lemon juice to the apple before sipping the wine, you may like this match better, since it will make the wine taste more mellow.
Finding the balance that suits you is that simple. It's easiest to do when you're in the kitchen, but you can also use the condiments you find on any restaurant table to adjust tastes. Wine too strong? Reach for the salt or soy sauce, a squeeze of the lemon that's on your plate, or add a drop of malt vinegar.
Wine tasting too sweet or soft for you? Add something sweet to your food, a bit of sugar or honey, or a touch of savoury oyster sauce, Worcestershire or even ketchup will help you taste more of the acidity in the wine.
No matter what you're eating, add some salt to the food and the wine will taste softer, less tannic and bitter. Any time you take a bite and a sip, and you personally feel that the wine tastes too strong or dry, whether red or white, add a little squeeze of lemon juice. Or don't. You may love that hit of intense tannin that scours off your palate after every bite. It's not right or wrong. It's your choice.
Hanni is a Master of Wine, the industry's equivalent to a black belt. But not everyone agrees with his philosophy. He tosses out some of the other old food and wine pairing rules that I think still can apply, especially the classic combinations rule.
Hanni argues that Europeans never matched food and wine, they just drank what was in the cellar but, I say, if nothing else, you can feel like you're immersing yourself in a culture by drinking a regional wine with a classic dish. If you're serving Boeuf Bourgignon, by all means, pair it with a full-bodied French red from Cotes du Rhone, Burgundy or St. Emilion. Have the cassoulet with a dry rosé from the Languedoc where the dish has its roots, get out the sweet stuff from Sauternes for the foie gras, and slurp briny Fins de Claire oysters with a crisp Sancerre or Chablis.
But no matter what wine you order, always ask the sommelier about the sauce - and for a little lemon and salt on the side to make your own subtle adjustments.
Then trust your own taste, and drink what you like. It's all up to you.
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