 The convoluted and keeps-on-getting-weirder story of the attempted blackmailing of the famed Domaine de la Romanee-Conti earlier in the year just took an even more cinematic turn: The accused, who was in jail in Dijon in the lead-up to his trial, has apparently hanged himself in his cell. “His son,” Decanter.com reported, “who was arrested at the same time, will [still] stand trial later this year.”
This is yet one more twist in an already Hollywood-esque tale: Back in February, the deceased and his son were arrested “during a sting operation after they had demanded $1m ransom from Romanée-Conti owner Aubert de Villaine,” Decanter reported. “‘They claimed that if we did not pay they would poison the vines,' Villaine said after the operation was revealed by local newspaper Le Bien Public.”
Thankfully, aside from the loss of a vine as the result of its being poisoned with a weed killer, there was no harm done to the vineyard...just a real scare, and a realization, among all wine lovers, that even the most precious, historically significant vineyards in the world aren’t safe from those that would do them harm.
Scary stuff, indeed.
 Jordan, one of the most easily and instantly recognizable of California’s classic producers, has been releasing stellar wine for as long as I’ve been tasting. Longer than that, in fact: As a child in my parents’ house, I have distinct memories of my father uncorking the occasional bottle of Jordan Cab with great care and reverence. This was special occasion wine, after all, meant to be savored and assessed as deeply as it demanded.
All these years later, Jordan is still doing it as well as it always has, and the Cabernet Sauvignon Alexander Valley 2006 is no exception. Aromas of cedar, humidor, graphite, and currents, as well as blueberry and blackberry, rise from the glass. There’s also a note of sandalwood in there, providing a hint of the exotic, the spicy.
For all that aromatic complexity, however, this is still a young wine, and the palate is rather taut at this stage of its evolution. There’s a good bit of berry fruit in there, but right now it's defined by nutmeg, clove, cinnamon, lavender, and mineral flavors, which themselves are softened by a sense of creaminess hovering at the edges. The finish is a bit brambly, and a fleeting intimation of herbes de Provence slowly fades away, adding one last piece to this already complex, exceptionally food-friendly Cabernet that will continue to evolve and reward for at least another 10 years. (75% Cabernet Sauvignon, 19.5% Merlot, 4.5% Petit Verdot, 1% Malbec)
 Chablis typically finds itself at the far end of a Chardonnay-lover's evolution: One typically begins with fruity, powerful oak monsters, moves on to more detailed yet still round-and-ripe California-style bottlings, heads in the direction of white Burgundy, and then, finally, dips a tentative tongue into the taut wines of Chablis.
For all the time it takes to get there, though, a wine-lover’s first great Chablis experience is often a paradigm-shifting one, and therefore worth the wait: The purity of expression, the clarity of the terroir, the cleanliness of the juice: All of these conspire to make great Chablis among the best white wines in the world.
The problem, however, is one that makes so many would-be Franco-oenophiles nervous: The details. From the seven legendary grands crus to the technically lesser yet still often magnificent premiers crus all the way down to regional wines, Chablis has always posed a problem for consumers. (So has the confusion, at least on this side of the Pond, between real Chablis and the oversized handles of California “chablis,” a laboratory concoction that bears as much resemblance to the real deal from Northern Burgundy as, say, the poor hapless fellow who performed “Pants on the Ground” in this past season’s “American Idol” does to Pavarotti.)
Still, for all the confusion and misinformation associated with it, Chablis is a part of the wine world worth knowing and learning about, especially now.
This past weekend, The San Francisco Chronicle ran an article on recent developments in the region, and noted that, despite the longstanding primacy of the seven grands crus in Chablis, “in a region ruled by terroir, things are becoming more complicated. Standout wines are appearing from more humble sites. And new talents are appearing in a region whose top names are so established that the war memorial in Chablis' town square reads like a wine list.” Not only are new producers finding their way onto the Chablis scene, but they are slowly shifting perception of what’s possible throughout the region, no matter how famous or humble a particular piece of land might be: Some producers are starting to pull back on their use of oak in the GC bottlings, terroir-specific wines are being bottled even from non-grand cru or -premier cru parcels of land, and organic viticulture is on the rise. Chablis, then, is one of the most interesting regions in the French wine world right now. It may be confusing, but the effort required to unravel its mysteries--both ancient and modern--is more than worth it.
 Like many so-called wine people, it recently came to my attention that my collection (a very, very modest one) had gotten out of hand. I don’t own all that much wine compared to some collectors, but enough age-worthy bottles had accumulated in my in-house cellar that I had completely lost track not only of what I had, but also where specific bottles were located within it.
So I decided that the time had come to follow my friend Scot “Zippy” Ziskind’s advice, take everything out, catalog it, and move any bottles that I wouldn’t be drinking in the next two years to an off-site, professional storage facility. Scot, as I’ve written about here before, is one of the country’s foremost experts in wine cellar design, cooling, and humidification, owner of ZipCo Environmental Services, Inc., and My Cellar, one of the region’s best wine storage facilities.
And now, after having gone through my precious bottles, and having reacquainted myself with what I had, cataloging everything in Cellar Tracker, and purging my poor overstuffed cellar, I’ve come to two important conclusions: First, I need to buy more wine; and second, I should have moved my most important bottles to the My Cellar warehouse a long time ago for guaranteed safe-keeping.
I bring this up because I’ve been hearing some real horror stories lately from friends who have had people over for dinner, had a bit too much to drink, and decided, in their impaired state, that they would pop the corks on bottles that were nowhere near ready. And while having trophy bottles on hand to show off is perfectly fine, it’s also dangerous unless you have some sort of fail-safe mechanism in place to protect yourself from your own worst impulses.
Trophy wines are nice to look at, but they’re even better to drink--when they’re ready.
 In his new column on WineSpectator.com, Matt Kramer makes a confession that I imagine many, many people wish they had the confidence to say publicly: Despite years of studying Italian wine, and living in the country, and collecting and drinking its wines, he still finds himself confronted--rather regularly--with Italian grape varieties and producers that are unfamiliar.
This is huge for a highly regarded wine writer to admit anything but vast expertise in his specific area of the field--but there it is, right on the computer screen for all the world to see.
On a recent visit to the restaurant A-16 in San Francisco, for example--the spot is known for its extensive selection of Italian wines--Kramer “was handed a superbly flavorful dry white wine: 2008 Pecorino Colline Pescaresi from the producer Tiberio,” he writes. “I don't mind telling you...that I had never heard of the Pecorino grape variety, the Colline Pescaresi district or the producer Tiberio. Other than that, I'm an expert.
“Mind you, this Pecorino wasn't just some bland white wine mouthwash...This was really dazzling stuff, zingy with minerality and scents of herbs such as rosemary and sage delivered with an impressively dense texture. There wasn't a trace of oak, by the way, and none needed. It was a ‘where have you been all my life?’ white wine. “Of course,” Kramer continues, “when I got home I raced to the computer to become a know-it-all about Pecorino. It turns out that the grape variety wasn't even isolated as such until the 1980s and that the first varietally labeled Pecorino appeared only in 1996.” And so it goes with wine, as it does with music, film, literature: Only by opening ourselves up to experiences we’ve never had before can we truly be charmed and educated and won over in equal measure. Last night, for example, we held a wine and cheese cake tasting at Wine Chateau Piscataway, and nearly every single person in the room commented on how they had either never tasted red wine and cheese cake together before, or experienced those particular wines in the past (Negro Amaro, for example, or a ripasso). So what was intended as a fun way to spend an evening actually turned into much more: An education, and an eye-opening one at that. The wine world is so big, and so diverse, that it always--always--pays to explore previously unfamiliar territory. The rewards are tremendous, and often far more pleasurable than you ever imagined.
 Several months ago, I wrote an article on the 2005 vintage of Stags Leap District Cabernet Sauvignon for John Mariani’s Virtual Gourmet. I tasted a number of excellent wines from that already-legendary vintage for the story, and even among so many great bottlings, the Taylor Family Cabernet stood out for its combination of power, elegance, complexity, and aging potential.
Their 2005 Reserve bottling will not be released until this coming fall, but I recently had the opportunity to taste it, and I’m happy to report that it is even better than the regular Cab--no small achievement given the supremely high quality of that wine.
This one starts out with an explosive nose of dark chocolate, chocolate-covered cherries, kirsch, creme de cassis, and a hint of mint. For all this exuberance, however, it’s also a touch exotic, with sandalwood and licorice and scorched earth bringing something more mysterious to the glass. The palate, on the other hand, is where the wine’s primary fruit shows through brightest, with sweet cherry still dominating despite the emerging notes of tobacco, graphite, and something a touch floral. That floral quality really comes through on the finish, which practically sings with violets, sweet black tea, and minerals.
The Taylor Family Vineyards Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve 2005 is a perfect example--and embodiment--of what makes Stage Leap District so remarkable even within the Napa Valley as a whole: It’s delicious right now, promises to keep on evolving for at least 10 more years (depending on how you like your older Cabs), precise, exquisitely balanced, and endlessly involving as it gains nuance in the glass.
 There’s old wine, and then there’s old wine. Last week, a Finnish diving instructor discovered a cache of the latter in the Baltic Sea: 30 bottles of Clicquot Champagne that are believed to be from somewhere between 1782 and 1788. According to a report on the BBC’s web site, “The bottle - whose shape indicates it was produced in the 18th Century - has now been sent to France for analysis. If confirmed, it would be the oldest drinkable Champagne in the world.”
What makes this even more remarkable, however, is the fact that the wine is apparently still in good condition. The discoverer, Christian Ekstrom, opened one of the bottles on his way back to shore and, afterward, described it as “[f]antastic...It had a very sweet taste, you could taste oak and it had a very strong tobacco smell. And there were very small bubbles."
There’s a lesson here: Great Champagne, though typically ready to drink upon release (specific vintage bottlings, like the Krug 1996, notwithstanding), often benefits from some time in the cellar. Personally, I always purchase multiple bottles of Champagne in order to follow its evolution through the years.
In response to this discovery, The Champagne Bureau sent out an email recommending the following steps to ensure that your precious bottles last. Their advice is below:
Aging – Although Champagne has already reached maturity by the time it is released, you can successfully store it for years in your own home. Make sure that your bottles are kept in a cool, dark place (like a shipwreck!).
Chilling – We recommend keeping the bottle cool, ideally between 45-50 degrees. When you are ready to enjoy it, serve the Champagne well-chilled. A Champagne bottle usually reaches its ideal temperature after twenty minutes in a bucket filled with ice and water.
Opening – Start by cutting the foil and undoing the wire cage, with the bottle pointed away from your face. Always hold the cork in one hand and gently twist the bottle with the other. You will feel the cork easing out.
The right time to drink Champagne – It’s always the right time to enjoy Champagne. Real Champagne only comes from Champagne, France!
 This year, it seems, an unusually large number of my friends are planning trips out west to explore Napa and Sonoma. And, as always, I try to recommend a range of winery visits, from larger and more formal ones to the mom-and-pop operations that often provide such unexpectedly memorable experiences.
This year, in addition to the usual destinations I’ve been recommending, I have also suggested that my friends and colleagues make a point of getting to Rubicon, one of the Napa Valley’s most famous estates and producer of the eponymous Rubicon, one of California’s more sought after wines year after year.
Rubicon recently introduced a $15 package that includes a tour of the estate (founded in 1880 and, in 1975, purchased by Francis Ford Coppola and his wife Eleanor), its chateau, the winery itself, and the property’s museum, after which guests can refresh themselves with tastings of the Sofia Rosé 2009, Captain’s Reserve Syrah 2006, and Captain’s Reserve Cabernet Sauvignon 2006.
I’ll be covering other wine-travel options in the coming weeks and months, but for now, this new offer at Rubicon is a great way to start, and a fantastic anchor to an end-of-summer trip out west.
 Big news from the world of wine magazines: James Suckling, the highly regarded critic who covered Bordeaux, Italy, and Portugal for Wine Spectator, is no longer with the publication. In an announcement made yesterday, the Spectator noted that "James Suckling, who joined Wine Spectator in 1981 and has served as European bureau chief since 1988, has retired from the company...Suckling’s tasting responsibilities have been reassigned. The wines will be reviewed in our standard blind-tastings in the company’s New York office.”
Today, as more details have begun to dribble out, Decanter.com reports that Suckling will continue to taste wine on his own, travel the wine world, and work on other projects, including speaking engagements and, possibly, wine-making.
This is a big shake-up at the Wine Spectator, which has, in recent years, found itself working hard to try to stay as relevant as it always has been in an ever-shifting wine-journalism world. Its impact will take quite a while to be fully felt and assessed. We’ll post more details here as they become available.
 Several weeks ago, I attended a wine lunch and tasting at New York’s Marea Restaurant that featured a number of Greek wines being imported by the excellent firm Cava Spiliades. And like too many people, my experience with the wines of Greece had been limited mainly to the occasional bottle Moschofilero, but beyond that, not much.
However, it very quickly became apparent at this lunch that I’d been missing out: The wines--reds and whites in equal measure--were fantastic: Well-crafted from high-quality fruit, balanced, and supremely food-friendly.
Then yesterday, I had the chance to taste more excellent wine, this time with the legendary Greek winemaker Evangelos Gerovassiliou, and George Spiliadis, the importer and passionate advocate of the artisanal wines and foods of Greece. Lunch this time was at the spectacular Milos, which George and his family own. Both the wine and the food were remarkable.
I’ll be reporting on all of the wines, as well as the food, in more detail in the coming weeks, but for now, I wanted to share the tasting note for one of the single best Viogniers I’ve tasted all year: The Domaine Gerovassiliou 2008, which is not only a spectacular bottle of wine, but also is representative of the remarkable, exciting changes that are happening in the Greek wine world. I cannot possibly recommend these wines highly enough.
This particular bottling starts out notably spicy on the nose, with aromas of charred peaches, smoke, nuts, and the unmistakable perfume of ginger providing lift. The texture, all chewy and glycerine, is balanced out by a fresh acidity that is far too often missing from other Viogniers. (That acid balance, in fact, seems to be a hallmark of the wines brought in by Cava Spiliadis.) Mango and peach, as well as more spice and smoke, define the palate, and the finish remains fresh and mouthwatering, allowing the impression of the wine to linger beautifully.
Over the course of two lunches and some tasting on my own at my home office, I have, rather quickly, become a very big believer in the wines of Greece, especially when they’re made with as much care and attention to detail as this one. What utterly gorgeous wine.
 Question: Do different types of steak call for different red wines?
Answer: Along with what is the meaning of life? and does the tooth fairy really exist?, this is one of the great mysteries of the world--a question as deeply and inextricably linked to the human condition as taxes and awkward-teenage moments at middle-school dances. And just like those other ponderables of its ilk, this question is both more difficult to answer and far simpler than it initially appears.
First, then, the more complex of the two answers: Yes, different steaks call for different red wines. As we’ve addressed here before, cooking method has a significant impact on the kind of wine that will pair best with a particular dish. Grilled steak, for example, with its smoky notes and charred exterior, will respond better to a Cabernet Sauvignon, say, than a classic chicken-fried steak will, which, in my experience, is more suited to some sort of pink sparkler, like a great rosé Champagne.
But beyond that, there is also the question of the cut of the cow that you’re dealing with, as well as the way in which the animal itself was raised. Fattier steaks require heartier, more tannic reds to cut through all that richness, whereas leaner ones, like, say, a filet mignon, can easily be overwhelmed by big reds, and tend to do better when paired with gentler wines--I like a nice Pinot with filet, for example.
As far as the nature of the animal itself, much has been made lately about the differences in flavor and, indeed, morality, between grass-fed and corn-fed cows. We won’t get into the issues of ethics here, but the flavors and textures are certainly different. Personally, I prefer the more pronounced mineral tang of grass-fed steaks to their sweeter corn-fed counterparts, but, like all matters of taste, this is a personal decision. For more on this, take a look right here at a very good video that Wine Spectator posted a while back on this very subject.
Finally, to get to the second (and simpler) answer to our original question, it is, as always, this: Drink what you want with your food, even if it breaks to so-called rules. So: Big juicy Chardonnay with your steak? Go for it! If it brings you pleasure, then it’s a perfectly wonderful pairing.
 They say--whoever they are--that good old Gamay eventually turns to something resembling decent Pinot. I’ve only experienced this phenomenon once or twice before, which made the bottle of Georges Duboeuf Régnié 2005 such a charming surprise. The color is the first indication that it’s a fully mature wine, the center of the juice a deep, rich brown with reddish-orange hints at the rim. On the nose, it’s all caramel, toffee, dried violets, mushrooms, and, unexpectedly, dried apricots. These brown notes follow through to the palate, which is further complicated by dried cherries, cedar, and smoke. And while this ’05 is at the far end of its evolution--drink now or forever hold your peace--and though the mid-palate is starting to fall apart a touch, it is a delicious, thought-provoking wine in its own right, and a great example of how well good Gamay can age.
 We recently reported on Smith Haut Lafitte’s efforts to cut their carbon footprint by sailing their wines to Canada rather than loading them onto shipping containers and motoring them across the ocean. In keeping with this focus on the environment, today I wanted to link up a fascinating discussion that was posted this past spring on GrapeRadio.com on sustainability in grape growing.
“In wine growing,” Grape Radio reports, “the word ‘sustainability’ gets bandied about frequently. So, what’s it really mean? Obviously, sustainability is the ability to continue on…to endure. So, with wine growing the term will usually mean that the grower uses farming methods that are least likely to harm the environment in general, and the farm in particular, so that it may ‘live long and prosper.’ But, philosophically, it actually goes well beyond that basic premise.”
That philosophy, as well as the details of environment-friendly winemaking, are discussed in this eye-opening interview with Jon Ruel, Trefethen Vineyards’ Director of Viticulture and Winemaking.
Click here for the full show.
 I’m on vacation this week in South Carolina, spending most of my time outside and generally marveling at the beauty of our natural world. (As opposed to my golf swing, which possesses absolutely no beauty of its own: It’s an arhythmic, Charles Barkley-esque thing.)
It’s a treat to be outside, of course, and a reminder of how fragile our natural world really is--especially given all the news reports this summer, from the BP oil spill in the Gulf to the the usual warnings about global warming. And this morning, I awoke to a news item on Decanter.com that reinforced what we’ve been reporting on here for quite some time: That the wine industry is taking significant steps toward being a more responsible global business, cutting its carbon footprint and other potentially harmful impacts where it can.
The great Bordeaux producer Smith Haut Lafitte, Decanter reported, “is to begin exporting wines by sailing ship...The 106 year-old British ketch Bessie Ellen will set sail from Bordeaux for Montreal on July 21, laden with 20,000 bottles of Smith Haut Lafitte...in an effort to cut the chateau's carbon footprint.”
This is a gutsy move, to be sure, but also very much in line with the industry’s efforts to protect the earth from which its grapes and wines originate: From lighter Champagne bottles to a focus on organic and sustainable farming practices and beyond, Smith Haut Lafitte’s effort is one more piece of evidence that the wine industry is leading the way toward a greener future.
Plus, it seems, the wine benefits, too: “‘We conducted a blind-test experiment with independent oenologists who found that long journeys by sailing ships also improved wines, some of them giving an impression of having aged a year in the process,’ [shipping company] CTMV CEO Frédéric Albert told Decanter.com.”
 July has arrived, the 4th is just days away, and summer is officially in full swing. Yesterday, in fact, from my home base in Philadelphia, I actually found myself a bit chilly in the morning when I realized that the temperature had dipped below 85!
With the holiday weekend nearly upon us, then, it seems like a good time to discuss a couple of wines to enjoy--easy-to-drink, food-friendly bottlings that will work at the upcoming weekend’s barbecues.
I’ve been having a lot of fun lately with the Concha y Toro Xplorador series, particularly the Cabernet Sauvignon and Carmenere, both of which seem perfectly suited to the food and the mood of the holiday. The wines from Pine Ridge and ForeFront have been showing really well, too--Pine Ridge’s Chenin Blanc - Viognier should be a standard in your seasonal arsenal. Helfrich’s Rieslings, Gewurztraminers, and Pinot Blancs are spectacular. The spicy elegance of a Zantho Zweigelt or the more lush pleasures of Michel Rolland’s Clos de los Siete, from Argentina, will sing with holiday weekend cookouts. And for dessert--this idea is from a perfectly timed and very thoughtful press release I recently received--a pairing of ‘smores and Port, which seems like the kind of thing that we all should have been enjoying for years already, and a fantastically fun way to celebrate the holiday weekend.
(NB: I’ll be posting tasting notes on all of these wines in the coming weeks. For now, though, just drink and enjoy. There will be time for analysis later.)
 This is yet another great example of the extraordinary sparkling wines that are produced throughout France, and a perfect bubbly for the foods of the season, too. The nose is rich with aromas of ripe cherries, homemade strawberry jam, and the slightest hint, surprisingly, of tarragon hovering in the background. The palate sings with more ripe red cherries, wet stones, and something a touch smoky. All of this is brought to even more vivid life with a singing acidity that’s both bright and perfectly balanced. I almost want to have a barbecue this afternoon for no other reason than to throw some salmon on the grill to enjoy alongside this. What a well-crafted, thoroughly gulpable wine. Pinot Auxerrois and Pinot Blanc.
 You know the one--"Big Yellow Taxi," by Joni Mitchell. The one with the famous chorus: "They paved paradise and put up a parking lot."
Well, this is the real deal.
In a case of the modern world and its supposedly necessary infrastructure needs colliding with the age-old beauty of a great wine region, winemakers in Germany’s Mosel, and its legions of fans around the world, are finding themselves in a serious fight these days.
“Plans to build one of Germany's biggest bridges and a four-lane motorway through the Mosel valley, where the celebrated Riesling wine is produced, have outraged local wine-makers and international wine critics alike,” noted a recent report on the BBC’s website. The article continued: “Known as the Hochmoseluebergang, it will be 160m (525ft) high, 29m (95ft) wide and 1.7km (one mile) long.”
And it will slice right through some of the most beautiful vineyards on the planet, not only fouling the view, but potentially wreaking havoc with the natural flow of water from the forests above into the steep hillside vineyards below.
Click over to the article linked up right here, and take a look at the video embedded in it, for a glimpse of what’s at stake.
 My friend Scott Turnbull, sommelier at the excellent Fountain Restaurant at The Four Seasons Hotel Philadelphia, is a wine lover, pure and simple. And despite the prestige and high profile of his job--he manages, and pairs food with, one of the top wine cellars in the region--he is, at base, the kind of person who is in this line of work because he truly enjoys wine, and loves sharing that passion with others.
As a result, Scott, like so many wine professionals and others with a deep knowledge of all things grape-related, is often frustrated by unnecessarily baroque descriptions and formal tasting notes.
He recently posted an example of this on my Facebook wall, and it seems like something that all of us should read and rebel against.
Here it is, a description of the Pinot Noirs from Marcassin that appeared on page 42 of the July 31, 2010 issue of Wine Spectator:
“The Pinots deliver a beam of complex flavors with olallieberry, wild raspberry, porcini, and red and black licorice...”
Olallieberries?!
To which Scott editorialized: “My guess is that they may also smell like dreams, wishes, and rainbows, as long as we’re being hyper-specific.”
I could not agree more with Scott and what I think he was implicitly getting at: That specificity in wine writing is laudable and, yes, necessary. But when it is done in such a way that the language itself becomes exclusionary--when the references are so esoteric that none but an uber-select few members of some sort of gustatory inner-circle understand them--then their utility is diminished, if not completely undermined and destroyed.
Luckily, you could make the argument that this type of “purple wine prose” is on the wane, and represents the last gasps of a dying wine culture in which knowledge of, and comfort with, grape juice was used as some sort of stand-in for social status or cultural currency. Indeed, the democratization of wine--the fact that consumers from a beautifully wide range of professions, income levels, backgrounds, and education are, in varying degrees, exploring all that wine has to offer--has rendered this sort of language, and the exclusionary worldview behind it, so antiquated as to be practically irrelevant these days (thank goodness).
Now, I don’t want this to come off as an attack on Wine Spectator, which is still one of the best wine magazines being published, and a fantastic way for consumers and professionals at all levels of knowledge and interest to grow their understanding and stay current with the news that shapes the wine industry. It is, however, time that all wine writers (myself included), and the outlets that publish them, consider the ramifications of the words printed on their pages and web sites. A good tasting note is descriptive, evocative, and, in many cases, challenging to the reader--this is a good thing. But when it perplexes more than it enlightens, its entire raison d’être is rendered moot.
To be sure, wine writing should not cater to some sort of lowest common linguistic and experiential denominator, using only the most basic words and references. Indeed, I tell clients all the time that one of the best ways to increase enjoyment of wine, and to grow the range of words one uses to describe it, is to maximize the size and depth of the so-called flavor spreadsheet in their minds: Learn the difference between the aromas of a chanterelle and a porcini mushroom, or the similarities in flavor between a peach and a nectarine; become familiar with the unique and easily differentiated nature of the meat of an orange, its pith, and the oil of the skin.
And while there will always be flavor and aroma references that are unfamiliar to some (this is ultimately beneficial, as it forces consumers and professionals alike to familiarize themselves with them and, in the long term, likely increases their enjoyment and understanding of wine), they should at least be “learnable." I wander through farmers markets several times a week when the season permits, and am always on the lookout for new foods that I’ve never tasted before. But never once have I come across an olallieberry--and I taste things for a living!
It makes my skin crawl to think of the damage that a reference that impenetrably obscure does to the confidence of the budding (or expert) wine lover who reads it. Enough is enough--the woefully obscure olallieberry is one exclusionary reference too far.
NB: Wikipedia defines the olallieberry as “a cross between the loganberry and the youngberry, each of which is itself a cross between blackberry and another berry (raspberry and dewberry, respectively).”
Wow.
 This is a cab full of fantastic potential--7+ years at least, and likely more than 10 if you like your wines more mature. The nose shows plenty of ripe fruit, but it’s still firmly rooted in the terroir: This is what we hope for from great California cabernet sauvignon. There’s a deep minerality--it tends in the direction of slate and warm clay--that frames the nose here, as well as ripe dark berry and currant fruit and a hint of violets. One smell and you can tell that this is serious juice, indeed. On the palate, the structure and aging potential jump out right away, as does the ripe blackberry fruit that follows through from the nose. There’s also tobacco, cedar, a hint of forest floor, something a touch charred, and dark cherries, those last two leaving the impression of some sort of fabulous summertime pastry baking in the kitchen. The blueberry- and mineral-tinged finish, while lovely right now, promises many, many years of pleasure ahead.
(As an aside, after taking my tasting notes I had the chance to enjoy this wine with a grilled hamburger, and it was fantastic--all the proof you need that great wine and comfort food play perfectly well together, just so long as both are well chosen and paired thoughtfully.)
 Two weeks ago, at the Wine Media Guild’s annual dinner in New York, Bartholomew Broadbent spoke on behalf of his legendary father Michael Broadbent on the occasion of his induction to the Guild’s Hall of Fame. He recently posted video of his speech on the Broadbent Selections Facebook page, and it’s well worth watching: The speech displays all the intelligence, wit, and charm that have made the Broadbent family such an important one in the world of wine, from Michael’s role at Christie’s and as an esteemed writer and critic, to Bartholomew’s as the head of one of the most exciting wine importing firms in the world.
The video is linked up right here. Pay particular attention to Bartholomew’s description of his father’s tendency to not drink: If this is a teetotaling lifestyle, then it’s one that we all should aspire to.
 Hints of nuts, and a whiff of licorice and vanilla on the nose, complicate the fresh, bright lemon and green apple notes of this very easy-to-love Chilean Chardonnay. There’s depth here, to be sure, yet not at the expense of a feeling of elegance so often missing from Chardonnays at this price point, which, given the pleasure it brings, seems absurdly low. The sweet vanilla follows through to the palate, and itself is complicated by caramel flavors that manage to add interest to the wine’s freshness without weighing it down. The finish lingers on with sweet tropical fruit, lemon oil, and something that reminds me of a bright summertime fennel salad with its anise-scented perfume. It’s perfect, in other words, for this time of year.
 If the keynote address by Steve Jobs last Monday, and his hotly anticipated introduction of the iPhone 4, made it a big day for techies, then wine lovers are up for a whole bunch of dramatic days right now. That’s right: It’s time to follow the release prices of the 2009 Bordeaux, and, yes, collectors and drinkers of these wines will be hotly debating the rationale (and, perhaps, justifiability) of the prices both as they roll out and well afterward...even as the wines are still resting in their barrels.
And for wine lovers, there is ample opportunity right now to waste hour upon hour during your up-coming work days, following, commenting on, and debating the prices in real time through Twitter, Facebook, and other social networking sites.
(I, for example, spent way too much time yesterday following the comments on the #bdx09 feed on Twitter. And while I haven’t yet decided what--if anything--I’ll be buying for myself, it’s been endlessly fascinating to follow all the drama as it unfolds.)
So while getting wrapped up in this minute-by-minute obsession may not be terribly good for your work-time productivity, it sure is entertaining. And, at the very least, will help you gauge the market and determine whether it really is a good idea to get into it this year.
Whatever you decide, it’ll be an interesting, drama-filled lead-up, to be sure.
 I wrote a lot last week about high-end and older wines, which, when the bottles are stored properly and aged for the right amount of time, can be among the great pleasures of the palate. But that doesn’t mean that there aren't significant pleasures to be derived from wines intended to be enjoyed with far less fanfare. This time of year especially, I tend to gravitate toward the easy drinking of simpler, less complex wines.
And sometimes, those wines come in a box.
Now, I know what you’re thinking: Boxed wine?!?!
Yes: Boxed wine. Because just like bottles sealed with screw caps, wine-in-a-box is no longer a guarantee of something you wouldn't want to serve in polite company. In fact, there’s some boxed wine out there that’s quite good.
Boxes have been making enough in-roads, in fact, that Time Magazine recently ran a piece on them. And while the old-school ones may look “tacky,” as the article notes, “savvy producers are trying to widen their appeal with a second generation of boxes that look a whole lot nicer sitting on a counter or in a fridge for a month and a half.
“This spring,” it continues, “Underdog Wine Merchants unveiled the Octavin Home Wine Bar, an artisanal collection of 10 wines in octagonal cylinders. These containers, which started hitting stores in May, do the impossible — they make box wines sexy. Some of the six winemakers Underdog has partnered with (Monthaven Winery, Silver Birch) look classy and expensive in their cylinders. Others (Big House, Boho Vineyards) are cute, almost flirty.”
The trick now is to convince consumers that not all wine is meant to convey a sense of prestige. In the end, it’s intended to be enjoyed. And if that means that some of it comes from a box, then so much the better: It’s about time we all took a step back and focused more on what really matters: The juice itself.
No matter what kind of container it comes in.
 Some weeks, the stars align just right--the universe, we could say, decides to throw me a bone--and I have the very good fortune to taste wines that remind me exactly what makes this juice so special, and so different from anything else we can drink.
As I reported here on Tuesday, Monday evening’s Wine Media Guild dinner afforded me the opportunity to taste everything from Grand Cru white Burgundy and 60-year-old white Port to 1994 Jordan and Cos d’Estournel--and a whole bunch of great bottles in between.
Wednesday night, at the Wine Chateau Piscataway store, was the first of what hopefully will be many Sip and Twit tastings. Over the course of those three hours, we sampled five different bottlings from Iron Horse, including the Classic Vintage Brut 2005, Wedding Cuvee 2006, Unoaked Chardonnay 2007, Estate Chardonnay 2008, and Estate Pinot Noir 2007.
Then, last night, my wife and I enjoyed dinner with close friends, and Miguel Lecuona (who writes the fantastic City Wine Journal), brought along some seriously delicious treats, including a Chateau Palmer 1970, Chateau Latour à Pomerol 2001, and Chateau d’Yquem 1995.
I didn’t want to brush my teeth when I got home.
But the weekend is almost here, the temps are expected to rise, and the time, it seems, has arrived to start thinking about what to drink as the end of the work-week rolls around.
Personally, I’m a big believer in popping the corks--or unscrewing the caps--on bottles that are fun, relatively straightforward, and pair well with the foods of the season.
My friend Ben Weinberg, an internationally published wine writer, focuses on the wines of the season in the latest installment of his newsletter Unfiltered, Unfined. In this issue, he notes that summer is almost here, and the “change of seasons seems to alter other elements of life, as well. Meals tend to be quick and light and our beverages follow suit. Wine is no different, and an important part of vinous enjoyment is cracking open bottles that particularly complement warm weather, lighter food, and long, outdoor evenings.”
He goes on to recommend everything from solid sparklers to popular but still-underappreciated rosés to reds that will work wonders as the mercury climbs. Both Ben’s specific recommendations and the guiding philosophies behind them are excellent, and should really get you thinking about what to open this weekend.
Take a look, pop some corks, and enjoy the next couple of days off.
 Just a quick post today to announce an exciting new relationship: Wine Chateau will be working with Wine Twits, the largest wine community on Twitter, for a series of tastings in the Piscataway store. Starting tonight, we'll be holding a handful of "Sip & Twit" tastings in the Fine Wine Room in conjunction with the Wine Twits community.
Tonight's will focus on the wines of Iron Horse, which not only produces some excellent still wines, but is also responsible for some of the best sparklers in the United States. If you're in New Jersey, stop on by. If not, follow the tasting on Twitter. I'll have tasting notes and impressions posted right here later this week or early next week.
For a complete listing of my blog posts plus any archived posts, please visit
http://www.uncorklife.com
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