Last week, I enjoyed not one, but two delicious Petite Sirahs. I love this grape. Contrary to common assumption, it isn't actually related to the grape Syrah (known in Australia as Shiraz) at all. Two completely different grapes, with just a somewhat similar name. Although they do both have big, lucious, peppery flavor profiles.
The first one I tried was The Crusher, by Don Sebastiani and Sons. I was intrigued when I first saw the label, because Don Sebastiani and Sons reliably produce good juice in my experience. It was also labelled as containing grapes specific to Clarksburg, CA, which is where Bogle sources the grapes for its outstanding Petite Sirah Port. But what finally sold me on this bottle was .... a customer. Yes, it's true, though I sell wine for a living, on occasion our roles reverse and a particularly enthusiastic customer actually sells ME a bottle. That was the case last Saturday, and I'm grateful that I took his advice.
The Crusher (2009, 13.5%) is a beautiful deep, bloody violet color in the glass. Black fruit dominates the bouquet with an edge of spicy oak. Soft, supple tannins coat the mouth lusciously with a lovely, seamless acidity dancing across the palate with graceful flavors of blackberry, cola, licorice, and oak. We paired it with a pepper-marinated steak and creamy mashed potatoes and drained the bottle in no time. Definitely put this one in your face. If you find it for a mere $12 like I did, you might want to follow my customer's example and buy several cases at once. This is a delicious all-purpose red.
Having successfully reminded myself and my husband how much we love Petite Sirah, we opened another one a few days later. The 2008 Maggio Petite Sirah (13%) comes out of Lodi, CA. Lodi produces some of my favorite Zinfandels - well-balanced, with velvety tannins, and a nicely spiced flavor profile. Their version of a Petite Sirah expressed itself similarly.
The Maggio Petite Sirah is a beautiful pomegranate crimson in the glass, with a fruity, spicy nose - raspberry, cherry, and black pepper. When sipped, a good acidic tang up front makes you salivate while the soft, satiny tannins fill your mouth with juicy flavors of raspberry, blackberry, and licorice, with a finish of spicy oak. Yum! A great deal for only $7, definitely worth putting in your face.
Saturday, September 17, 2011
Wednesday, August 31, 2011
A Rosé is a Rosé
You know, I'm not sure I've blogged about a rosé yet. I find that shocking, because I love them so. Luckily, I have two to tell you about today, since summer finally arrived in Seattle and I've had a chance to drink a few. But first, I should take a moment to clarify what exactly a rosé is, since there seems to be much mystery surrounding the issue.
Color in red wine comes from the skin of the grape. So does tannin. Rosé wine is made by removing the skins early in the wine making process, so the wine only ends up with a little bit of color ... and only a little bit of tannin. So what you end up with is basically something with the flavor of a red wine (perhaps a tick or two down on the intensity scale), with the light body and refreshing acidity of a white wine.
They're awesome.
In early August I tried the Angove's Nine Vines Rosé (South Australia, 12.5% ABV, 70% Grenache/30% Shiraz). I couldn't pass it up at the store. $4.99 marked down from $9.99, you say? What a deal!
Not so much. You see, I failed to follow one of the Wine Wench's very own rules ... when faced with a deal, always, ALWAYS check the vintage. And this one, I realized while taking notes, was a 2008. Oops.
Rosé, you see, should be drunk fresh. The current vintage. Very good ones can be drunk a vintage late. But this one was three vintages behind. So it's no wonder it tasted lackluster. Not terrible. I finished my glass. I just didn't have another. It smelled of bright strawberry and ruby grapefruit with bell pepper, rhubarb, and tart strawberries with cream - that hint of vanilla on the edge of the bouquet that comes from oak aging. This promising, delightful aroma is what makes me think that a current vintage of this wine would probably be quite tasty. But on the palate it was over acidic, weak, and flabby.
Last week I washed that disappointing Rosé flavor out of my mouth with a stunning example of the style. Susana Balbo of Argentina makes some of the best Malbec in the world, and her 2010 Crios Rosé of Malbec (13.9%, Mendoza) is no exception.
For starters, when poured into the glass, it was brreathtakingly beautiful. The first word of my notes is "Wow!" Seriously. It was a brilliant bright, clear crimson, like a perfectly ripe dewberry (Seattle's local trailing raspberry), a sort of pinkish-ruby. Truly stunning. It smelled of cranberry, raspberry, bell pepper, and ginger. On the palate cranberry and tart watermelon blend into raspberry and white tea lifted by the perfect balance of acidity and tannin. Of course. 'Cause it's Balbo. And she's a genius. Definitely put this in your face. I scored it on sale for $10, but it's well worth the regular price tag of $13.
Color in red wine comes from the skin of the grape. So does tannin. Rosé wine is made by removing the skins early in the wine making process, so the wine only ends up with a little bit of color ... and only a little bit of tannin. So what you end up with is basically something with the flavor of a red wine (perhaps a tick or two down on the intensity scale), with the light body and refreshing acidity of a white wine.
They're awesome.
In early August I tried the Angove's Nine Vines Rosé (South Australia, 12.5% ABV, 70% Grenache/30% Shiraz). I couldn't pass it up at the store. $4.99 marked down from $9.99, you say? What a deal!
Not so much. You see, I failed to follow one of the Wine Wench's very own rules ... when faced with a deal, always, ALWAYS check the vintage. And this one, I realized while taking notes, was a 2008. Oops.
Rosé, you see, should be drunk fresh. The current vintage. Very good ones can be drunk a vintage late. But this one was three vintages behind. So it's no wonder it tasted lackluster. Not terrible. I finished my glass. I just didn't have another. It smelled of bright strawberry and ruby grapefruit with bell pepper, rhubarb, and tart strawberries with cream - that hint of vanilla on the edge of the bouquet that comes from oak aging. This promising, delightful aroma is what makes me think that a current vintage of this wine would probably be quite tasty. But on the palate it was over acidic, weak, and flabby.
Last week I washed that disappointing Rosé flavor out of my mouth with a stunning example of the style. Susana Balbo of Argentina makes some of the best Malbec in the world, and her 2010 Crios Rosé of Malbec (13.9%, Mendoza) is no exception.
For starters, when poured into the glass, it was brreathtakingly beautiful. The first word of my notes is "Wow!" Seriously. It was a brilliant bright, clear crimson, like a perfectly ripe dewberry (Seattle's local trailing raspberry), a sort of pinkish-ruby. Truly stunning. It smelled of cranberry, raspberry, bell pepper, and ginger. On the palate cranberry and tart watermelon blend into raspberry and white tea lifted by the perfect balance of acidity and tannin. Of course. 'Cause it's Balbo. And she's a genius. Definitely put this in your face. I scored it on sale for $10, but it's well worth the regular price tag of $13.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Three's A Crowd
Let's get the lame duck out of the way first.
My limited experience with Castle Rock has not given me a favorable impression of the brand. Years ago, I tried their $10 Pinot Noir on a whim. It tasted like grape juice steeped with pine cones. Stemmy, acidic. Bleh. I didn't drink it. Finally, six years later, my patience had grown back. "Cheap Pinot is very hard to make not disgusting," I told myself. "Perhaps they'll do better with a Zin." I was expecting it to be jammy and too sweet, especially at only 13.8%, but at least drinkable.
No. It smelled hot and tasted insipid. Extremely acidic, with tight, bland fruit. It tasted in no way like a Zinfandel. How could it? How hard do you have to work to suck that much flavor OUT of such a delicious grape? Especially at such a low alcohol content for the varietal. Granted, it was my first ever Mendocino Zin. Perhaps it doesn't ripen in that cool climate - at all. My husband observed that it would be better off called "Rando's Red" than advertised as a Zinfandel. I poured my glass, and the bottle, down the drain. You can skip this one.
Now, the Simi Zinfandel I opened next that night (I wanted Zin with my burger, dammit!) was a significant improvement. For starters, it smelled like a Zin, with aromas of brandied plum, blackberry jam, and spiced rum. It also tasted like a Zin, with a palate that reflected the bouquet, accented with nicely balanced acidity, and lovely tannins giving it a satin mouthfeel with a long, spicy finish. Great deal for the $8 I paid on sale. At the regular price of $18, I'd go with Seghesio, St. Francis, or Cline. But for under $10, put this one in your face.
A month later (yeah, I know, I need to update more) I was ready for another Zin. I decided to try out one of the new ones from work that had been winking me in the face - a $10 Old Vine Zinfandel by Four Vines (California, 2008, 14.6%). Violet-red in the glass, it smelled of bright grenadine and red cherry. A promising Zin-like aroma (I swear, that Castle Rock traumatized me). The palate was richly fruit forward without being sweet, if not terribly complex. Though it did have a nice sort of dark, musty finish of mushroom and oak. Not bad. Not great. But not bad.
Of course, that being said, we did drink the whole bottle, which doesn't always happen. Its lack of oomph, rather than making it boring, just made it a highly drinkable background food wine. I don't think I'd buy it again - in the same price range the Bogle Old Vine Zinfandel is far better - but I don't regret buying it, or opening it. It was nice. And might even make a good starter Zin for someone accustomed to more traditional varietals.
My limited experience with Castle Rock has not given me a favorable impression of the brand. Years ago, I tried their $10 Pinot Noir on a whim. It tasted like grape juice steeped with pine cones. Stemmy, acidic. Bleh. I didn't drink it. Finally, six years later, my patience had grown back. "Cheap Pinot is very hard to make not disgusting," I told myself. "Perhaps they'll do better with a Zin." I was expecting it to be jammy and too sweet, especially at only 13.8%, but at least drinkable.
No. It smelled hot and tasted insipid. Extremely acidic, with tight, bland fruit. It tasted in no way like a Zinfandel. How could it? How hard do you have to work to suck that much flavor OUT of such a delicious grape? Especially at such a low alcohol content for the varietal. Granted, it was my first ever Mendocino Zin. Perhaps it doesn't ripen in that cool climate - at all. My husband observed that it would be better off called "Rando's Red" than advertised as a Zinfandel. I poured my glass, and the bottle, down the drain. You can skip this one.
Now, the Simi Zinfandel I opened next that night (I wanted Zin with my burger, dammit!) was a significant improvement. For starters, it smelled like a Zin, with aromas of brandied plum, blackberry jam, and spiced rum. It also tasted like a Zin, with a palate that reflected the bouquet, accented with nicely balanced acidity, and lovely tannins giving it a satin mouthfeel with a long, spicy finish. Great deal for the $8 I paid on sale. At the regular price of $18, I'd go with Seghesio, St. Francis, or Cline. But for under $10, put this one in your face.
A month later (yeah, I know, I need to update more) I was ready for another Zin. I decided to try out one of the new ones from work that had been winking me in the face - a $10 Old Vine Zinfandel by Four Vines (California, 2008, 14.6%). Violet-red in the glass, it smelled of bright grenadine and red cherry. A promising Zin-like aroma (I swear, that Castle Rock traumatized me). The palate was richly fruit forward without being sweet, if not terribly complex. Though it did have a nice sort of dark, musty finish of mushroom and oak. Not bad. Not great. But not bad.
Of course, that being said, we did drink the whole bottle, which doesn't always happen. Its lack of oomph, rather than making it boring, just made it a highly drinkable background food wine. I don't think I'd buy it again - in the same price range the Bogle Old Vine Zinfandel is far better - but I don't regret buying it, or opening it. It was nice. And might even make a good starter Zin for someone accustomed to more traditional varietals.
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