Wine Quiz Database

1855 Bordeaux Classification Recall:

http://www.sporcle.com/games/shooter/1855-bordeaux-classification-with-communes

A manger!

Viognier may not be the wine varietal of the month, but it is here in the Northern Rhone.  With the cool wind beckoning the oncoming fall, the Syrah and Viognier vines cling to their steep cliffs, breathing in the last of the warm summer days.

This terroirist arrived here in the Northern Rhone about two weeks, and is as inspired by the luscious, floral, and earthy wines as the roots of these old vines run deep into the steep gravelly soil.

With all the buzz in the wine writing community about “natural” or
“authentic” wines out there, I could not feel a greater sense of pride.  Here at Les Vins de Vienne (where this terroirist is working the harvest), the idea is that each wine reflects its appellation, and will taste different every year.

We begin drinking Condrieu at 9 in the morning here (along with some cheese, meats, bread, and chocolate), and continue with St. Joseph, St. Peray, and Cote-Rotie for lunch (each with its own course, including a cheese course thrown in there).  Since we didn’t eat enough for breakfast, mid-morning snack, and lunch, we accompany dinner with the leftover Condrieu and maybe some of our estate vineyard, Seyssuel.  This combination is creating optimal conditions for understanding how every year creates conditions for different wines.  Simple enough, right?

So what’s the big deal with wine that tastes different every year?  Is it really too romantic of an idea?  Is it essential for an “authentic” wine?  Is it “unauthentic” to add things to your wine to make it taste better?  Perhaps if a consumer is just discovering a new winery, and tastes a thinner wine than the previous vintage, they may not return.  That’s unfortunate.

At LVDV, we put ripe grapes into the fermenter, some sulfites, and let them do their thing.  No water, no acid, no sugar, no enzymes, no yeast, no bacteria…just grapes.  As the rains begin to pick up, and the grey mold spreads across the land; it means its time to bring ’em in.  No extended hangtime here.

The funny thing is, the sugars stay low, yet the flavor and concentration of these grapes are what California growers dream of…is it the soil?  The temperature?  The humidity?  C’est la terroir, et c’est la Cotes-du-Rhone.

One thing is for sure, the French love, to eat.

The Judgement of Fulton: Video Footage

http://www.viddler.com/explore/Terroirists/videos/24/

Finding Florida’s Terroir

Over the last two weeks I have done the unthinkable: I’ve had a good wine experience in the state of Florida.

The state normally reserved for golfing retirees originally from New Jersey has a few bright spots, other than its abundant winter sunshine and famous Cadillac Escalade accidents.

The foremost of these is definitely Bern’s Steakhouse, in Tampa of all places. Before discovering this ridiculously bodacious wine list the only thing Tampa had going for it was a Superbowl victory and a series of summer concerts featuring country artists renowned throughout central Florida.

Despite waiting an hour for a table (we had a reservation but showed up a wee-bit early) and food that is heavily priced yet moderately delicious, the journey is well worth it just for the wine. Being on a winemaker’s budget I went with a 1985 Chambolle-Musigny from a negociant for $60. I would have preferred a premier cru from a small grower, but drinkers can’t be choosers, and an aged Burgundy from the Cote d’Or (and a great vintage none-the-less) shouldn’t be seen for under $200 in a restaurant this side of the Atlantic. The wine was good.

Oh, and just for good measure I ordered a split of a 1980 Cornas for $17, and then we paid that much for a dessert-sized serving of a 1978 Sauternes and a 2000 Tokaji with five puttonyos. I counted them, and there were five.

Alas, my deeply southern journey had to come to an end, and that is happening as I type. Currently I’m flying over some oily-coated seafood just south of the Bayou at 36,059 feet. Before take-off, however, I made a jaunt into a great little wine bar in Fort Lauderdale with the male parental unit known as The Grateful Palate (that’s the bar, not the dad). While the bottle of 1985 La Tâche on the counter had already been consumed, we still had a great experience featuring a nice Brunello, Dolcetto d’Alba, and a crazy-ass South African wine.

This wine, the 2008 Chakalaka, is a seemingly normal Southern Rhone blend save for the inclusion of Souzao. That alone was enough to make my head spin, but the Cointreau house-made ice cream succeeded in popping it like a Touriga Nacional berry under a nude Portuguese man’s foot.

In a few hours I will be back in San Francisco, and back to the daily wine life style. There are going to be some changes to the Terroirists in 2011, one of which won’t be blogging from 36,059 feet again. At this altitude I’m literally high on life, and way too over-the-top as a blogosphere contributor. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have some famous Virgin America hot tea to consume.

Terroirists Wine Show: Two Buck Suck….its a play on words