Fig Preserves

Late August always brings an abundance of fresh figs to Chateau Gilbert.   The house we bought some years back was formerly occupied by some people who were serious gardeners; it is both a blessing and a curse, for while we have something flowering in our yard every season of the year, we know nothing about gardening, and the upkeep can feel like a labor of Sisyphus.  One of the plants that we inherited when we bought our house was a mature and amazingly large fig tree.  It is easily two stories tall and has a diameter of better than 30 feet at its widest.  To give you some idea of scale, you can see our rain gutters cutting into the frame, about halfway up in this picture, and at the bottom is the top of an Adirondack lawn chair.. 

In a particularly productive year (as this one was) we can pick gallons of raw figs from its lower branches, without even attempting to pick what is at the upper reaches.  I'm sure that every bird, squirrel and assorted other critters in the neighborhood enjoy this bounty of fruit, and frankly, they're welcome to it.   While I eat them raw, use them in appetizers and salads, and even throw them into smoothies, it is impossible to eat the figs fast enough, as they have a limited shelf life once picked. 

Thus, fig preserves.  Since we have started making these, I have not had to buy a single jar of jam or jelly.  I can easily put up enough preserves for a year, and have plenty enough to give away as gifts.  They're pretty easy to make, too.  I have a canning pot and a set of canning implements that I picked up at a garage sale, so my start-up costs were pretty low, and mason jars and lids are widely available at grocery stores and big box retailers here. 


What You Need:
A mess of fresh figs                                
white granulated sugar
lemon juice
fresh lemons

Mason Jars and new lids
a potato masher
a hot water bath pot, preferably with rack
canning tools: magnet probe, wide mouth funnel, jar tongs, etc
clean dish towels
large, nonreactive pot

One thing I reckon I should point out here is that this is a noticeably unscientific recipe.   The amount of sugar, lemon juice and lemon peel that you will use here is entirely dependent on the amount of figs you are turning into preserves.   You'll have to adjust the level of sugar to your individual taste, but please remember, sugar is an antimicrobial agent; a high sugar level is one of the HUGE factors in preserving your preserves.  If you just want to make fig paste, refrigerate it, and eat it soon after production. 

Also, if this is your first experiment with home canning, I highly recommend that you consult some other sources before attempting this.  A spoiled, canned product can be one of the most lethal things in your home, and one of the least obvious.  Sanitation and bacteria control are deadly serious subjects, and I urge you to read up on the subject before undertaking this endeavor.  On the other hand, we are not engaging in a tech-heavy project here: this is stuff that was done safely a hundred years ago by people of less education than ourselves.  If you learn the basic rules and follow them, you can do this with an easily achievable level of safety, and can confidently enjoy safe preserved foods.

First, wash the figs well.  Make sure that there are no insects clinging on.  Next, slice the stems away from the fruit, and place the fruit in a large nonreactive pot over medium heat.   Add a substantial amount of sugar, and a good squeeze of lemon juice.  I use the kind that comes in the little plastic lemon, but if you want to use fresh squeezed, well then, get down with your bad self.   As the heat begins to cook the figs some, they will begin to render up a little fluid, so mash them into a pulp with your potato masher (be careful not to scratch your nice pots). 

Meanwhile, remove the zest from a couple of lemons, chop it up, and add that to the mixture.   After removing the zest, use a sharp paring knife to cut the pith away from the lemons, and slice the lemons into wheels.  Using the tip of the paring knife, remove the seeds, and add the lemon wheels to the preserves.  They won't hold their shape, so don't get your hopes up.

It will take a fair amount of time on the stove for the fig mixture to cook and reduce.  The figs will render a lot of water, so be patient, keep the fire at a moderate to low temp, and stir frequently, so they wont stick and burn.  Taste, and adjust the sweetness.  Using a large silicon spatula, squish the remaining whole figs, and as they break apart, the heat will help them break down.   Some people use pectin to thicken the mixture and produce a tighter end product, but I don't.   Figs have a naturally high level of pectin, and I don't like my finished product to be too tight.  Again, depending on your level of patience, you can end up with a juicier or tighter preserve all by controlling evaporation  and cook time. 

While things are cooking, place your lids in a boiling water bath, and have your pre-cleaned jars in a separate boiling water bath as well.   When the preserves have reached your desired level of sweetness and the desired consistency, remove a jar from its boiling water bath and ladle preserves into the hot mason jar.  Quickly retrieve a lid from its water bath, and after making sure that the rim is clean and has no preserves on it, secure the lid on the jar.  Using a kitchen towel to keep from burning yourself, tighten down the lid.   Repeat until all your jars are full. 

When all the jars are full, load up the rack on your canning pot and carefully place into the boiling water bath.  Return the water to a boil, and keep all the jars submerged for a half-hour.   If you have a pressure cooker rig, that is even better, but for sweetened or acidified items I find that the hot water method suffices.  After a half-hour, remove from the boiling water, and retighten the lids.  Set them out on the counter and allow them to cool overnight. 

This batch made one quart, three pints and nine cups of preserves.  I hope the casting directors from Doomsday Preppers don't call me. 

2012 Artazuri Rosado And Figs Baked With Blue Cheese

Today, we bring you a little food and wine pairing.

Chateau Gilbert is blessed to have a mature fig tree, one that was planted many, many years ago, and gives us a fig harvest of Biblical proportions every August.   It is easily two stories tall, and at its widest maybe thirty feet in diameter.   Most of the figs are unreachable, and go to feed the birds and squirrels, and honestly, I don't mind.   The low hanging fruit is easily picked, and provides me with enough figs to make lots of appetizers, smoothies and snacks,  not to mention, enough fig preserves to fill my larder and land me a guest spot on Doomsday Preppers. 

This is a quick and easy appetizer, and one of the many ways I like to use my figs.  It is also easily modified.
Ingredients:
1 Tablespoon molasses or cane syrup
1 Tablespoon sweet soy sauce (not the salty, thin stuff you're used to.  This is more viscous and sweeter)
Good quality Blue Cheese, cut into small squares, or crumbled
Pinches of black sesame seeds
A dozen figs

Preheat your oven to 350F.  Slice the figs in half, or cut an X in their top, smooshing them down a little to open a cavity in the fruit, and spread on a baking sheet.  Mix the sweet soy sauce and molasses together, and put just a drop or two on top of the figs.  Neatness counts.  Place the Blue Cheese on top, and sprinkle a bit of the black sesame seeds on top.   You could also press the BC squares into a small dish with the sesame seeds, giving them a more positive contact, before placing the cheese on top of the figs.   Put it in the oven for 15 minutes and serve hot on a nice cracker or toast round.

Want to dress this recipe up a bit?   Wrap a thin slice of prosciutto around the composition before placing in the oven.  Want to take it to the next level?   Omit the sesame seeds, soften the Blue Cheese and mash it together with some crispy bacon crumbles.  Form that mixture into squares and press it into a dish of coarse raw sugar before placing it on the figs.  Run it in the oven for 10 minutes, and hit it with a brulee torch when it comes out, and there you are, Blue Cheese and Bacon Fig Brulee!  You can go in a lot of directions with this.  Substitute balsamic vinegar and honey, instead of molasses and soy.   Drop them into a vol-au-vent and bake until golden.  You get the idea.

While an appetizer is good and everything, you're probably going to get a bit thirsty.  This is a great rose' (or Rosado, as they call it in Spain) that I picked up for $8 and change.  I've talked about my love of rose' wines before, and considering that the warm weather is coming to a close (I hope), I figured it would be timely to review one more rose' before autumn arrives and Oktoberfest beers start to dominate this page.

We paired the 2012 Artazuri Rosado with the above baked figs for an appetizer course the other night.  This wine is made from the Garnacha grape, which is one of the signature varietals of the Navarra region in Spain.  It's a grape that loves sun and warm weather and does well in Mediterranean climes.  It also has a lot of synonyms, considering that it is grown in so many places: the Sardinans call it Cannonau and the French call it Grenache, and there are countless other local names for it throughout southern Europe.   And while the region of Navarra is closer to the Atlantic Ocean than the Mediterranean, the conditions there are optimal for its growth. 

It has a deep salmon color that reminds me of blood oranges, and is a shade darker than little-girl-ribbon pink.  It has stunning clarity.  On the nose there is an abundance of fresh red fruit:  red currants, strawberry and, of course, raspberry and cranberry.  A youthful and fresh wine, this has a medium plus acidity and a medium body, suggesting a little bit of time on the skins.  The flavor suggests raspberry sour candy, but it has an assertive finish that hangs on for sometime.  The wine has a moderate 13% ABV, and is quite food friendly, but also good for just cocktail hour or sipping on the porch, watching everyone in your neighborhood do their yardwork on a Saturday afternoon.  As I like to say, rose' is Summertime In A Glass!

This pairing works really well because the sweetness of the figs and the molasses are counterbalanced by the salty funkiness of the blue cheese, which in turn is a counterpoint to the acidity and red fruit notes of the wine. 

Some Thoughts On Hurricane Katrina, Eight Years Later

In Memoriam

8-29-2005

Eight years ago today, I had been a resident of Charlotte, North Carolina for about seven weeks.  I was settling in to a new job, a new house, a new town; I was meeting people, trying to form friendships and learn to navigate a new city.   My wife and I left New Orleans out of anger and frustration: angry that we couldn't afford to buy a house, frustrated with an employment situation that while good, offered no real future except more of the same, horrified by the widespread crime and almost daily murders, despondent over the Third-World level of municipal infrastructure and a general feeling of hopelessness that any of these things would ever change.   We took a year to plot our escape, and came up here just after the Fourth of July weekend in 2005. 

Eight years ago today, I kept ducking out of the kitchen at my job as a pastry chef to look at the televisions in the bar, which were all, of course, tuned to news or weather channels.  Katrina had been building for a few days, and it was just beginning to make landfall.   My mother, grandmother and mother-in-law had all evacuated, but my hard-headed, stubborn father had decided to stay (along with Elsa, our Great Dane) and ride the storm out, which was a matter of no small concern, and at the time I was seriously worried that they might not survive this.

Eight years ago today, I watched the cable news channels chronicle the path of the oncoming storm, watched it make landfall in Buras, La.  I had a hard pit of dread in my stomach, as I knew that this was "The Big One," the biggest one since Betsy, and that the city of my birth would be forever changed by it.  I knew that there was going to be loss of life and massive loss of property.  I knew that there would be no happy ending. 

The week that followed was an extremely difficult and emotional one, as you can imagine.   There was an initial sense of relief when we learned that the eye of the storm had taken a last minute turn to the east, but that quickly evaporated once the news helicopters started showing footage of the levee breaches and subsequent flooding. We lost all communication with my father, and had no idea of the whereabouts of my mother-in-law, who had evacuated with a group of her friends.  The week that followed was a lot like the week after 9/11: an inability to turn off the damn television, or to turn away from the images of the destruction and chaos.  I felt totally helpless, infuriated, depressed, and by turns hopeful that somehow, dear god, things would turn out ok.  I got out my address book and started calling everyone I had a valid phone number for to let them know that I was now a NC resident, and that I,  at least, was ok.   I was thankful that I had escaped with just weeks to spare.

Today, eight years later, I look back on that week, and I feel so many of the same emotions.  Anger and sorrow of course, but also thankfulness.  My father was rescued from his rooftop, evacuated and survived.   Our Great Dane, in some real movie-of-the-week stuff, was rescued by the dedicated volunteers who searched the city for pets afterwards, and after being stranded and alone on the second floor of my parent's house for almost a month, was miraculously evacuated to a city in Texas about an hour's drive from where my parents were staying.   My family took an enormous financial loss, including the destruction of many, many family heirlooms, which are utterly irreplaceable.  And as sour as that is, in the end, it is only money, they are only things.  My family suffered no loss of life.  Not everyone was so lucky.  For those who mourn, I mourn with you.

I did lose a friend.  Of the 1500 people who died during the storm and in its aftermath, I only personally knew one of them.  Glenn Rambo, may you rest in peace.  You always made me laugh and were a cool dude.  You live on in mine and so many other's hearts. 

It is so easy to look back at those chaotic days after the storm, and to bitch about everything that was bad.  Natural disasters, like war, bring out the best and worst in people.  There were a lot of people who took advantage of the chaos and treated it like a holiday from law and order, and stole, raped and murdered.   There were people who overstepped and abused their authority, and others who abandoned the obligations of authority.   And all I will say of that is: we know who you are, and more importantly, YOU know who you are.  And whether you believe in divine retribution, its karmic equivalent, or don't, when it's just you in the dark quiet of your soul, you'll know you that when you could have been a hero, you chose, instead, to be an asshole. 

But today, eight years later, I want to celebrate the people who were the heroes, the people who did good, both in ordinary and extraordinary ways, the people who banded together to help each other, the people who didn't abandon their posts even under the most challenging of circumstances (and if you think I'm talking about you here, Nurse K, you can bet your ass I am), the people who gave and helped.   I want to thank the people who rose to the challenge of saving their neighbors, like the fellows who got in their fishin' boats and went street by street, house by house, rescuing people like my dad off of their roofs.    I want to congratulate the people who put in the hard work of rebuilding the city, and spending their money, time and putting in the sweat to restoring it the best you could, both the natives and the legions of volunteers who came from all over the country in the following months.  Everyone who lived through it has their "Katrina Story," some of them more willing to share it than others, and everyone dealt with the fallout.  Many of them are still dealing with the aftermath, though I'm glad to see that for most everyone, a new page has turned.   The PTSD has faded, the depression has lifted, they're more sober now, the messy divorce is long finalized; they've reassembled their lives and mostly for the better.

Today, eight years later, I remember the pain, but I celebrate the good. 

I'd like to tip my hat to all the people who have remained, and are positive forces in a place so beleaguered by negatives.   New Orleans is a special place, and we breed a special kind of folk.   I may no longer live there with you, but you are my tribe.   There are so many of the good people there who I am proud to call my friends, you are among the best the city has to offer, and I love you all.

2011 Marc Bredif Chinon

For me Chinon can be a bit of an unpredictable beast.   Chinon hails from the Loire Valley, and is composed of Cabernet Franc.  A wine made in a very chalky soil, Chinions can vacillate from mineral and unpleasantly acidic to plush and rich with fruit, depending on the weather and the hand of the winemaker.  When a winemaker achieves the perfect balance, you can grab a wine of great distinction and get out of the shop with a fair portion of your wallet intact.  Because it is a lesser known region of France, and because these wines do not enjoy a huge degree of popularity, they are often quite reasonably priced.  If your only experience with Cab Franc is as a blending grape in another wine region, pick one of these up, as it is always an interesting exercise to see what it can do on its own. 

This wine displays a lovely color concentration in the glass: dark ruby trending towards  purple, but maintaining a nice vibrancy and translucence.  On the nose, I can immediately detect the youthful character of this wine:  it just SEEMS young and fresh, with  beaucoup black and red fruits, and a subtle note in the background that evokes a touch of carbonic maceration.  There is just a hint of the confectionery bubblegumminess/ banana candy present.  A big sour cherry note entwines with a scent of something chalky and mineralesque,  that almost evokes iodine. 

Palatewise, this wine lacked the overly chalky austerity of a lot of Chinons; it drank much more supple, with the mid palate dominated by a lovely concentration of fruit.  While that characteristic chalkiness showed up on the dry finish, it didn't overwhelm the way it can in wines of a lesser producer or vintage.  The wine shows pleasing acidity and low tannins, and a medium length of finish that leaves you wanting another sip.

Assessment: A Chinon typical of the breed, but with an additional level of accessibility.  Quite appropriate for Burgundian Pinot Noir drinkers, or others who enjoy a lighter styled, low tannin wine.

Beer Review: Lagunitas Lucky 13 Red Ale

I'm a big fan of the Hot Rod/ Rockabilly artwork that has been percolating up in American culture over the last couple of decades, so this beer caught my eye when it appeared on the shelves.  I'm also a big fan of red ales and other malt-driven styles of beer, so I guess it was just a matter of time before I dropped the five bucks and took this bottle home.  Only available in 22oz bombers and on tap, this iteration of Lagunitas Lucky 13  is billed as a "Mondo Large Red Ale."  Originally it had been a Special Release to commemorate their 13th anniversary as a brewery, but as with many things in the brew world, the people spoke and now it is part of their rotating lineup of seasonal/special releases. 

It carries one of the more informational labels I have seen.  8.65% ABV, 76.92 IBU's, and an Original Gravity of 1.085.

The color is a lovely dark amber with a hint of cherry, and tops with a creamy, three-finger khaki head.  Very active carbonation, large bubbles, and clumpy lacing.   On the nose this is very bready and yeasty; it reminded me of opening the door to a proofing box while the dough is rising before being baked.   There are vegetal notes present too, moist, damp, pine forest smells, and a bit of malt sweetness that suggests caramelizing sugar.

On the palate, its West Coast pedigree shows.  There is a significant hop bite that balances out the abundance of malts.  In fact, it is far hoppier than its nose suggests.  But the malts are the stars here.  They dominate with a caramel sweetness that makes this perfect for a malt lover.   In the finish, the hops are (barely) wrestled down by the sweet malts, giving this a pleasant, lingering aftertaste. 

This beer is easy drinking enough to enjoy without having to over-intellectualize it, but substantial enough to keep from being a killer swiller.  Mrs. Gilbert says that this would make a phenomenal Fall seasonal, and I have to agree with her.  I could see drinking this in front of a roaring campfire, bundled up in an old sweater, watching the leaves fall. 

Wine Review: A Duo from Nick Goldschmidt

Bone-in NY Strips, marinated Portobellos and a faithful hound

 

One of the really cool things about my job is that I often get the chance to meet the people who produce the things I so dearly love.  Brewers and winemakers always take an acute interest in the people responsible for promoting and selling their wares.  Of course, there is always a certain camaraderie shared by people who work within any given industry, and the hospitality and beverage biz is no different.  But I have found that the bond between people working in the restaurant and alcohol biz, due to the peculiar industry wrinkles we shoulder together, is commonly a bit tighter than it is for people of other professions, say, for instance, pest control technicians.

I was lucky enough to be working the day that one of our sales reps brought Nick Goldschmidt in to do a little tasting with us.  He was in town for a stop on one of his North American promotional blitzes.  Considering that the  man has a rather extensive portfolio of wines that he makes on multiple continents, as well as an extensive list of wineries he consults for, not to mention he has five (!) kids, I wonder how he can squeeze in time to travel and do PR. 

As we were getting stemware and spittoons ready for our tasting, Mr. Goldschmidt rattled off his extensive and impressive CV.  He's worked for some of the biggest names in the wine biz, and he's been doing this for quite a while.  I can't remember exactly who all he said he had worked for and with, but, hell, that's what Google is for, so look it up if you're interested.   He has projects going on in California, Argentina, Australia and of course, New Zealand, the land of his birth.   And probably some others, too.  The man gets around. 

I can't quite put my finger on the reason why, but I have to say that of all the non-American English speakers of the world, the Kiwis are my favorite.  Mr. Goldschmidt exemplified all the things I love about New Zealanders: affable,  gregarious, accomplished but not boastful, and most of all, great storytellers.  They exude an air of adventure, but fun adventure, not the "I was at death's door, mate, and would, right now, be a pile of bleached bones if I hadn't crawled into that mud puddle" adventure.   I'll take Kiwi adventure over Rhodesian adventure any day.  But I digress...

We tasted several of his wines, and all were quite excellent.   He had a Sauvignon Blanc that was not your typical Kiwi grapefruit/ gooseberry porch-sipper; his had a mineral salinity to it, and an underlying animal note.  Quite an interesting wine, perfect for cork dorks like myself, but probably a bit complex for the "Ladies Who Lunch" crowd.   We also tasted a lovely, smooth and eminently quaffable Pinot Noir, that already enjoys widespread popularity.  We declined to pick these up for sale in the shop, not because we didn't like them, but because we always have to be cognizant of what we can sell, how much space we have to sell it in, and whether or not it clicks with our niche in the market. 

The next several wines in the tasting didn't just impress us, they amazed us, and a couple of those got picked up for retail.   Two of the standouts were from his Forefathers line: a 2002 Alexander Valley Cabernet and a 2004 Shiraz from McLaren Vale.  Mr. Goldschmidt was a bit incredulous that  wines of such maturity were still hanging around in the distributor's stock.   I imagine there were some words exchanged about that during the drive to the next stop.   We snapped up what was left of the '02 Cab, but unfortunately passed on the Shiraz (over my objections); we just don't sell much Shiraz, especially at the higher end of the price scale.   We also tasted the three wines that he has named after his daughters, Chelsea, Katherine and Hillary, and picked up two of those as well.   If you want a laugh, ask him about why the girl's silhouettes face the directions they do.

I liked the wines so much, that a few days later I purchased two bottles off of the shelf for my personal consumption.  Here are the tasting notes:


2011 Chelsea Goldschmidt Alexander Valley Merlot

This wine poured a brilliant dark ruby into the glass.  Loads of dark fruit on the nose: cherry, plum, raspberry and just a whiff of mint.   On the palate those same fruits reappear, with just a hint of jammy, cooked character.   There is a little tobacco-y astringency,  some medium tannin to give the wine a little backbone, and a zip of acidity to keep things fresh and fleet of foot.

As the wine opens, it really mellows and softens, giving the fruit a front row seat.  While it never becomes insipid or flabby, this is the soft, plush purple couch of a Merlot that is so adored by so many.   While this would work amazingly well with a wide variety of foods (pork chops, anyone?), I wouldn't hesitate to enjoy this as a cocktail wine.  It is easily approachable enough to enjoy all on its own.  Drinks fresh now, but I would love to see what it does after a couple of years in the cellar.  Retails for $18.99, and worth every penny.




2002 Forefathers Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon

An opaque purple that fades only slightly to ruby at the rim, this wine shows no indication of its age.  It throws widely spaced tears indicative of density and viscosity.  No sediment in the bottle. 

The back label touts this as a "Single Vineyard, Single Varietal" wine from a 5.5 acre parcel on the BS Ranch.  On the nose, there are strong and dark influences of tobacco, currant and black cherry woven through by notes of leather and pepper.   In the mouth, this is a dense and powerful wine.  Tannins are muscular without being bullies, and acidity is present but subtle.  The fruit character is again delineated by black fruits, and reveals itself better after the wine has had a chance to breathe, and the tannins have relaxed.   In fact, after given adequate time to open up, the wine became super smooth and richness increased. 

That the wine is well crafted and balanced is evident, but it has some inherent austerity that makes this a wine for the dinner table, not the cocktail hour.  Or perhaps, for snuggling up on the couch, savoring it meditatively while your meal digests.  There is a bit of leather on the finish that reveals the wine's maturity better than any other marker present here.   We enjoyed this with a robustly sauced grilled steak, marinated and grilled Portobella mushrooms, and it stood up well to a very rich meal. 

I was lucky to get this, and we have sold through all of the bottles our shop purchased.  I'll have to see if we cleaned our distributor out, or if they have a few more we can get ahold of.   Good luck finding it, but if you do happen to get ahold of some, you can enjoy it now, or hang on to it.  I suspect that this wine will drink beautifully for a few more years.   And it's a deal, too.  A mature, wonderfully crafted and ageworthy Cab, out the door for $34?   Yes, please. 


Oh, yeah, and this too:

Grilled Portobello Mushroom Marinade
1 cup olive oil
1/4 cup balsamic vinegar
1/4 cup soy sauce
a liberal grinding of fresh black pepper
minced garlic
minced shallot
a liberal squeeze of lime juice

Combine ingredients in a small bowl, whisking vigorously.   Adjust to taste (this is obviously an unscientific recipe.  Let your palate guide you.  We're not baking a cake here).   Pour over mushrooms, gill side up, cover and refrigerate for an hour or two.   Remove from fridge and let come up to temp for a bit, before placing on a medium-hot grill, gill side up.  When fluid collects and  bubbles begin to percolate up, flip the mushrooms and let the marinade drip off onto the grill.  Cook for about a minute or two more.  Don't let them char!  Remove from grill, cover and let the carryover heat cook them a bit more before serving.   Enjoy!

Beer Review: Frog Level Salamander Slam IPA

I was recently given a half growler of this beer by a colleague.  One of our local distributors has added this small brewery from Waynesville, NC to their portfolio, and we have subsequently picked it up for our cold case. 

Waynesville is in the far Western corner of North Carolina, very close to the Tennessee border, at the edge of the Smoky Mountains.  This is one of my favorite parts of our adopted state.  If you haven't been up the Blue Ridge in the autumn when the leaves are turning, or rafted one of the numerous rivers in this part of the  country, I highly recommend that you get to it.  Nearby Asheville is also a beer lover's playground, and a charming little city.  It can be a bit crunchy, but it's lots of fun.

This beer only comes packaged in half- growlers (about two pints), and carries remarkably little information on the bottle.   From what I can glean from their website, this comes in at 7% ABV.   It pours with good clarity, and has a lovely amber gold color.  It had only a very gentle carbonation, and left an almost nonexistent head, but I figure that's on account of this being packaged in a baby growler.  I reckon it displays a bit better straight from the tap, or from a bottle, if and when they start packaging it differently.

One of the things I really liked about this beer is that it was not an uber-hoppy, punch-you in-the-mouth type IPA.   There's a good dose of malt in addition to the citrusy-piney bitter note.  The Salamander Slam has a faintly nutty flavor as well.  It has very nice balance, and is eminently drinkable.  A mellow and pleasant beer.

Wine Review: 2011 Caymus Conundrum

I've long been a fan of the Wagner Family's wines, and when we travelled to Napa a couple of years back, their tasting room was on my "must visit" list. 

Conundrum has long been one of the Wagner Family's more affordable wines, usually coming in around $20 (although I bought mine when it was on sale at a competitor's grand opening, and I knew they were selling it below cost).   Chuck Wagner is one of the original Napa pioneers, and Conundrum was a pioneering wine when it was first released over 20 years ago.  Back then, proprietary, multi-varietal, blended wines were more the provenance of jug and box wines.  But the Wagners wanted something that transcended the limitations of a single varietal wine, something with a broader appeal, yet something still made with quality and distinction in mind.

What's in a name?  Well, Conundrum is just that; a proprietary blend of white grapes that are unnamed and in mysterious proportion.  It was originally meant to teasingly confuse those with surgical palates, who are able to identify grapes, regions, vintages and winemaking techniques with a few sniffs and sips.  To make things more interesting, the blend changes from year to year, so the wine is made with a style in mind rather than assembled from a strict recipe.  Although no grapes are named on the bottle, a little research tells me that there are five main players in the mix: Chardonnay, Semillon, Sauvignon Blanc, Muscat Canelli and Viognier.   There are probably others that find their way in from year to year, but really, what this wine is made from is pretty much unimportant.  How this wine tastes is what is focused on.

The color is of golden straw, and fruit notes abound on the nose.  I detected mostly tropical and tree fruits: mango, pineapple and overripe peach, and a trace of mineral intertwined with florality.  In the mouth, it displayed a nice viscosity, what I'd say was a medium + body.  A pleasant sweetness, flavors of white flowers, citrus and the same overripe peach dominate the palate, with a seam of acidity that keeps things lively. 

That pleasant sweetness makes Conundrum a great cocktail wine.  This could also step in for all the roles usually delegated to Riesling: pair it with spicy food, enjoy it during your lunch hour with a light meal, have the girls over for a break on the deck, pour it for Mee-Maw, who only likes sweet wines.   The sweetness and body make this a versatile food wine, and I can see it playing well with a variety of different cheeses and white meats.   If you're the type who only enjoys muscular, tannic reds, this won't be for you.  But I see this as being in the "sweet wine for people who don't like sweet wine" category.   It has sweetness, but also complexity and depth. 

Beer Review: North America's Most Belated Hopslam Review

That's right, I'm finally getting around to my review of Bell's 2013 release of Hopslam.  Why so late?  In all honesty, I really don't have a good reason.   I went in on a six pack of this beer with a colleague back in February when my store got our allocation, and I've had it rattling around in my fridge door for the better part of five months now.   I don't know why I waited so long to get into it.   I wanted to save it to do a blog post about it, and I knew that the internet was awash with reviews when it hit the shelves.  Here in Charlotte its release date was considerably later than it was in much of the rest of the country.   That's because the local distributor waited until they had their entire allocation in hand before they doled it out to their retailers. 

I've talked before about what a frightfully difficult phenomenon highly allocated beers are, and this is one of the most notorious of the bunch.  Much like allocated wines, they are doled out by distributors to their accounts based on several complicated factors, and like allocated wines, frequently occupy the upper tier of the price spectrum.  And because supply is so limited, customers can become a bit, well, testy, if you are unable to sell them an unlimited quantity.  Someone will want to buy a case or two, and when you tell them that it's one six pack per person per visit, they'll put their beer in the car, come back in and buy some more, go back to the car, put on a hat and buy some more, go back to the car, put on a fake beard, buy some more, etc., etc.   And if its release date is later in your market than it is in others, it can be a bit tiresome fielding all the phone calls asking you, again and again and again, if you have it in stock yet and why the hell not.

This is a beer for serious hop-heads (my grandfather would have a chuckle at my using that word in a context other than the one he frequently used it in, most notably in reference to the Kennedy family).  As the name implies, and as the label suggests with its picture of a man crushed beneath an enormous trio of hop cones, hops are the dominant force here.  But the folks at Bell's want you to know that there is more than just a tour de force of hops at work; they include the phrase "ale brewed with honey" on the label, a point of differentiation from the legion of other IPAs out there.   So, if you like IPAs and other aggressively hopped beers, this is a holy relic for you, the prize of your pilgrimage, a rare treat.  If, like Mrs. Gilbert, hoppy beers don't really do it for you, this isn't worth the price of admission.

Hopslam pours a very pretty copper-orange tinged amber into the glass, with a minimal head that subsides quickly but leaves lacing.  On the nose, this is all about the hop notes: grapefruit citrus, pine resin, herbal grassiness.  Lurking in the background is a scent of honey and malt, which gives this a slight floral tone. 

On the palate, I detect exactly what is advertised: huge, huge hops.  Grapefruit pith, sour lemon, pine, and a faintly metallic quality show.  As it warms in the glass, a bit of the honey and malts begin to evince themselves.   There is a hint of something earthy, like wet leaves or freshly turned furrows in my garden  after the rain.  The beer has a heavier mouthfeel than you might expect, coating the lips and tongue with a stickiness that says more about the amount of malts and honey in the beer than the flavor does.  The beer has an extremely persistent finish that stretches out and settles in, which borders on the unpleasant, especially for those who aren't really enamored of this style of beer.  And for a beer with a 10% ABV, there is not an overt booziness, so watch out; you could easily find yourself overindulging. 

I've always been told, "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all," and it's a piece of advice I've tried to stick to, especially here.  But I have to break that rule this time.  I was a little less than impressed with Hopslam; I'm not  a huge IPA fan to begin with, and I found this beer lacking in subtlety.  For me, it was very unidimensional, and I know that this beer is not striving for balance, but balance is what I enjoy.   I understand that this beer probably would have displayed better in its youth.  The bottles I had were stamped 1/28/13, and by hoarding it for five months before consuming I have probably done it a disservice.  But this beer is almost too hoppy for me.   As Mrs. Gilbert said, "I'm not really enjoying this.  I think if you toned down the hops, it probably has some nice floral and citrus complexities in there."   And I agree with her.  In its quest to have such an over-the-top hoppiness, Hopslam loses sight of any other virtue. 

I can enjoy the occasional IPA from time to time, but I'm not entirely convinced that this beer lives up to its reputation, hype, or more importantly, price point.  $20 for a six pack?  Ouch.  I don't honestly believe that this beer would fetch those prices if it were easily available year-round.   I am of the opinion that this beer's scarity is what (partly) drives its popularity.   In playing hard to get, it can command higher prices, and probably enjoys more popularity and critical acclaim than it deserves.  Then again, it may be that its a beer that just isn't my style. 

And that's my final assessment:  If you are an IPA fan, this beer is a must-try.  Seek it out, spend the dough, and enjoy it.  You very well may fall in love with it.  You may need to buy a ZZ Top fake beard so you can buy an additional six pack or three.   If IPAs aren't really your thing, I'd suggest you still try it, just so you can form your own opinion about it.   But you may want to find a couple of friends to go in on a six pack with you. 

Chocolate Pots de Creme with Frangelico Whipped Cream

This is a recipe I adapted from something I found on Epicurious.  I recently used this for a dinner party.  It makes for a simple and elegant dessert that you can prepare in advance, and then garnish and serve, keeping you engaged with your guests and not belabored in the kitchen. 

INGREDIENTS
175g, or just over 6oz good quality chocolate (see notes)

1 1/3 cups heavy cream
2/3 cups whole milk
6 large egg yolks
3 tablespoons sugar
1/4 teaspoon unflavored gelatin
2 pinches salt

1 pint heavy cream
1/2 cup sugar
1/4 cup Frangelico (or hazelnut liqueur)

chocolate covered Espresso beans

METHOD
Preheat your oven to 300F

Combine heavy cream, milk and one pinch of salt in heavy bottomed saucepan.  Sprinkle gelatin over cold dairy mixture and allow to bloom.  In another bowl, whisk egg yolks together with sugar and the other pinch of salt.  Finely chop your chocolate and set aside.  When gelatin is bloomed, heat dairy mixture until it just begins to simmer, then remove from heat and slowly add chocolate, whisking it in until smooth.

In a slow stream, add chocolate mixture to the egg yolks, whisking gently.  (Place a wet kitchen towel under the bowl to keep it from moving around while you whisk).  Slowly incorporate all the chocolate into the egg yolks, then pour through a fine-meshed sieve into a large measuring cup (I have a 1qt Pyrex that worked perfectly).  Allow to cool for about 15 minutes, occasionally using a rubber spatula to collapse any bubbles floating on the top of the custard.

Meanwhile, line an ovenproof baking dish with a clean kitchen towel and set a teakettle on to boil.  Place ovenproof ceramic ramekins in baking dish, and measure a sheet of aluminum foil that will cover the dish, poking some holes in it with a skewer. 

Pour the custard into the ramekins (6 X 4oz), pour boiling water from the kettle into the baking dish until it is 2/3 of the way up the side of the ramekins, and cover with the foil, placing as close to the geographic center of your oven as possible.  Bake for 20 minutes, then check.  Because ovens fluctuate in temperature, you'll need to keep an eye on things here.  Mine were perfect at 27 minutes.  They are done when they are tight around the edges of the ramekins, but jiggle somewhat at the center. 

Remove from oven, and using tongs (or your restaurant-grade, heat-impervious fingers) remove from baking dish.  Place on baking rack to cool for about an hour, then individually wrap with plastic wrap, and refrigerate.  These can easily last two days until your event.

For the Frangelico cream, combine sugar and half of the cream in the bottom of your mixer's bowl, and periodically stir with a spatula, letting sugar dissolve.  This allows you to avoid using powdered sugar, which tastes starchy to me, but also lets you avoid the gritty texture that results in granulated sugar being added to cream as it whips.  Add the rest of the cream and whip at high speed.  As it begins to fluff, add the Frangelico, and whip cream until it reaches desired consistency.

For service, place whipped cream into pastry bag and pipe out a rosette atop the Pots de Crème, and garnish with a chocolate covered Espresso bean, or alternately a sprig of mint and a fresh berry. 

NOTES
The selection of chocolate can be the tricky part of this recipe.  I have done it with some excellent quality 85% cocoa dark chocolate, but the sweetness was lower, and the finished dessert had a greater density in the mouth.  It also had less propensity to form bubbles atop the custard, which resulted in a preferable texture in the finished product.  I settled on a mixture of 75% cocoa dark chocolate and milk chocolate, in a 4:3 ratio, but bubbles on the surface were a greater concern.  Be mindful of the sugar content of the chocolate; the 85%  had about half the sugar of the 75%, even though they were cosmetically identical.  This can be dealt with by adjusting the amount of sugar used, and personally I always prefer to err on the side of sweeter when it comes to desserts.

For an interesting variation on this dessert, melt some seedless raspberry jam (or the flavor of your choice) in a saucepan, and pour over fully chilled and set Pots de Crème, and allow to chill again.  Garnish with fresh fruit and Chantilly cream. 

Wine Review: 2010 Creta Roble

One of the effects of the global recession that began in 2008 is that wine consumers the world over are shopping for that bottle that they find both excellent and affordable.   Those of us in the wine world have seen a bit of shrinkage, a bit of stepping down at all price brackets.  Lots of our customers, whatever their previous level of expense are seeking a bottle that's "just as good" for the next step down in price.   The high rollers will always be with us; there will always be a market for the crazy expensive luxury wines.  Just as Viagra will assuredly keep Porsche and Tiffany's afloat,  reputation and legend will ensure that no Richebourg goes unsold.   But most people, if they were accustomed to routinely buying 50$ bottles, are asking me what's good for under 30$.  Those who used to have a comfort level at 20$ are looking to find something nice at around 12$.  And everyone loves something tasty and interesting that comes in under 10$, out the door.  (I'll politely decline to discuss the drinkers of jug wines here.)

While the Australians may still have the lock on the sub- six dollar bottles (which usually feature some sort of endearing animal and colors one generally associates with 80's beach wear), the days of Australia dominating the "cheap wine" market segment are definitely over.  The Europeans, who have long been drowning in an ocean of the stuff, have finally clued into the fact that, as one of my colleagues in the biz puts it, "the 15$ bottle makes the world go round."  While all the European nations have their rockstars, their prized and princely wines, they also produce a LOT of perfectly drinkable, delicious but not quite earth-shaking wine.  And conversely, Australia has also decided not to stake their entire reputation on being a cheap date; there are some incredible, terroir-focused wines coming from smaller producers that fetch healthy purses. 

Spain has been one of the great beneficiaries of this trend.  A lot of wine that previously might not have reached our shores has been aggressively marketed by some enterprising importers and negociants.  Of course, the recession being what it is, a lot of this wine might in other times gone for higher prices; but if your choice is to sell cheap or go out of business, a lot of producers have opted for the cheap route.   And thus the Spaniards have not only eaten Australia's lunch, but beat them up and stole their lunchbox, too.

Case in point:  the 2010 Creta Roble.  I purchased this from Costco for eight bucks and change, which means I was out the door with it for less than a Hamilton.  It's a fabulous little wine from Ribera del Duero, imported by Eric Solomon (whose praises I have sung before).   I'll crib from the back label here, but the wine is 100% old vine Tempranillo from the 70 year old "Pago de Cabarroso" vineyard.   This vineyard sits at an elevation of 850 meters on chalky soils, thus the name "Creta" and the marine fossil motif on the label. 

It pours a pleasant dark purple into the glass that fades only slightly at the rim, showing both youth and incredible extraction.  There's lots of dark fruit on the nose, and notes of sawdust and oak, giving away the fact that the wine was aged in both French and American oak.  It has a pleasant acidity and solid tannins, that make this a value wine that isn't just a jam-bomb.  But the fruit is there, just restrained, in the typically Spanish style. 

I enjoyed this with some seared duck breasts and braised purple cabbage, and it was a quite pleasant dinner companion.  It wasn't austere enough to require food, and for fans of bigger, more structured wines, this could easily be enjoyed alone.   For the money, I'll definitely be buying another bottle of this.

Beer Review: Boulevard Smokestack Series Box Set

Attractive Packaging, No?

Drinking Outside the Box

A little while back I picked up a boxed gift set of four beers and a glass from Boulevard Brewing Co., an outfit in Kansas City who refer to themselves as "Missouri's second largest brewery."   Their beers are relatively new to the NC market, and I was intrigued by their packaging.   A quick look at the Boulevard website shows that they have a sizeable portfolio, and that the Smokestack series showcases some of their more interesting concoctions.  Most of these beers are sold in 750's, but the boxed set gave me a chance to try several different beers in smaller servings, and had a piece of stemware included.   And while there are pint glasses galore here at Chateau Gilbert, I don't have any good beer glasses.   Of course, it didn't hurt that this set was on the clearance shelf; but don't worry, I checked the best-by dates and all the beers were well within their range of drinkability. 



A four pack of beer deserves a four pack of reviews.  Here they are:


Double-Wide IPA

With a massive, rocky head that hangs around, and leaves nice lacing as it drops, the Double-Wide IPA pours a hazy amber into the glass.  It reveals orange-copper highlights when held up to the light.  There is evident yeast deposit at the bottom of the bottle, which results in a bit of turbidity in the beer. 

 

On the nose, there is a whiff of pastry baked with exotic spice, apricot, dry hay and candied orange peel.   On the palate I get orange pith bitterness, and the flavor of copper pennies (or at least what I remember them tasting like when I put them in my mouth as a child).   The bitterness is balanced well by sweet, bready malts that are a nice counterbalance to and support for the hops.  Considering the often overly aggressive hop nature of a lot of IPAs, this one isn't too over the top.  There is a distinct, and unsubtle booziness to this beer, which reveals its 8.5% ABV.  There is a long, lingering finish, which  made me want to have a snack, to dissipate it.  The flavor of the hops almost seems to grow and magnify long after swallowing.   It kind of made me want to have a snack, so I could clear my palate.

 

Assessment:  Very approachable IPA, and not too in-your-face.  If you're a big hop head, this may be a little on the subtle side for you.  If IPAs aren't really your thing, you might enjoy this as a milder example of the breed. 

 

 

The Sixth Glass Quadrupel 

 

A Belgian style Quadrupel, The Sixth Glass pours a dark copper amber into the glass with a fluffy, khaki head, but it subsides quickly.  Again, the beer has a hazy appearance due to the yeast sediment that has collected in the bottom of the bottle.  Aromas of dried fruits such as dates or figs greet the nose, rising on the vapors of the detectable alcohol.  (At 10.5% you'd have to be a corpse not to detect the alcohol here). 

 

There is a bit of the typical Belgian yeasty funk here, with lots of sticky malts and a hint of Bretty sour on the finish.  It has a deep, earthy roundness, with prominently displayed notes of raisin, fig, date, molasses, and brown sugar.  This beer is all about the malt.  And the booze.  It is very alcoholic, and I know you can't believe that I would say this, but the high alcohol of this beer almost puts it out of whack. 

 

Assesment:  My least favorite of the four.  A little too sticky, and a little too boozy.  But if you're a Belgian Quad fan, pick it up.

 

 

Tank 7 Farmhouse Ale

 

This one is hazy gold in the glass, evincing, once again, its unfiltered nature.  The head is dense and persistent, sticks around forever, and leaves considerable lacing on the way down.   On the nose there is lots of sour fruit, lemon mostly, but also an ample serving of baking spice.  A steady stream of bubbles rise from the base of the glass, like you'd expect from a quality champagne. 

 

There is a pleasant peasant funk here- exactly what you'd expect from a farmhouse style beer.  An easy tartness on the palate lends this a very refreshing feel.  The 8% ABV is less detectable than you would think.  It starts off pretty light, but the beer seems to grow in weight the longer you drink it.  This could be a function of it warming in the glass, or it could just be that the sour element is no longer a surprise, and other elements are making themselves known. 

 

Assessment:  This is a great warm weather beer.  With a slice of orange, it has the potential to be a real porch pounder.  But watch out!  This isn't some low alcohol shandy beer. 

 

 

Long Strange Trippel

 

Similar in appearance to the beer above, but with better packaging, the Long Strange Tippel shares  the same lingering and profuse head that all of these beers have.  This is much more balanced than the Farmhouse, with less lemony sourness (although there is a note of that here, no doubt) and a bit of estery funk, 

 

There is a nice, balanced maltiness here, with good funky Brett, and a touch of baked apricot fruit.  Wheaty malts, some spice, and a bit of hoppy citrus dryness. 

 

Assessment:  Eminently drinkable.  A great introduction to Belgian style beers for a novice.  Quite possibly my favorite beer in the pack. 

E2, the Breaux Bridge boiler, and the Tale of 5 Dollar Crawfish

Happy, Happy, Happy!

Earlier this week, and much to our dismay, we discovered that the local Emeril's affiliate restaurant, E2, has held a crawfish boil every Friday in May.   Having missed the previous four, Mrs. Gilbert and I were determined to  make it to the last one.  Crawfish is a seasonal delight, and the season is drawing to an end.  I've talked here before about my love of crawfish, and my displeasure about living in a place where they are a rare find.  So when we learned that a local restaurant was going to host a boil, we were all over it.      
                                                                                                 
We arrived an hour early so we could get a good seat, and found that most of the seats at the big table were already spoken for.  We ended up at the far end, almost right next to the boiling pots, which made things a bit warm, and caused us to have to talk even louder than normal to be heard over the jet engine-like roar of the propane boilers.  But they were hardships I was willing to brave. 

To our delight, the event became a meeting of Louisiana ex-pats in Charlotte.  We sat next to a family originally from Baton Rouge, and later met a young man from Morgan City.  There were other folks we met, including a young guy who had spent his childhood in New Orleans.  There were plenty of LSU shirts, and purple and gold in abundance.  To our even greater delight, we learned that the gentleman who would be doing the boiling was from Breaux Bridge, Louisiana.  We immediately knew we were in for a treat, and that the crawfish would be cooked right. 



Sole Survivor

We have attended some other crawfish boils here in Charlotte that were a bit of a disappointment; either the portions are too small, the seasoning is not spicy enough, or the person boiling just plain doesn't know what they are doing.  But when Mr. Landry, the boiler, opened his mouth, our spirits soared, and we knew we were in good hands.  If you're not a Louisianian in exile, it's a hard thing to explain, but hearing an honest-to-God Cajun accent in a faraway land is a thing that puts happiness in my heart.   (I will admit to watching the semi-exploitative TV show "Swamp People" just so I can hear a little of the music of home).    I guess the closest thing I could compare it to is someone from a coastal area catching a whiff of salt air while exiled in the Midwest, or a Floridian enjoying the warmest summer day in Wyoming.  And Landry is like Smith or Jones among the Cajuns; the town of Breaux Bridge has been named "The Crawfish Capital of the World" by decree of the Louisiana State Legislature.  I had no doubt that the crawfish would be delicious, and when they rolled out 240 pounds of them, in no short supply.

The first batch is always the spiciest, and that's fine with Mrs. Gilbert and I, because it always shakes out the amateurs.  However, this was clearly not the first crawfish boil for the bulk of the crowd.  We saw far fewer people drop out after the first round than we expected.  Truly, we were among our tribe.  We dug in, and polished off the first tray in record time, washing them down with ice cold Abita beer.   Typical of late season 'bugs the shells were a bit harder, but they were also monster sized.  There were chunks of Andouille, corn, potatoes and to my continuing delight, even mushrooms in the mix.   Mr. Landry did indeed know exactly what he was doing.

The successive batches kept coming, and we kept quenching the fire on our lips with Abita Ambers and Strawberry Harvests (a bargain at 3$ a pop).   And after 90 minutes the crowd did thin a little bit.  But not us, we were committed to sit and eat until all the 'bugs were gone.  After all, they were the last of the season! 

So, I'd like to extend my great thanks to everyone at E2 involved with this boil.  All you can eat crawfish for five bucks a pop, reasonably priced beers in the heart of Uptown Charlotte, and a boil done right?  You could not have done more to win the heart of this NOLA boy.  I went home with fire on my lips and under my fingernails.   We will definitely be in for dinner sometime in the near future. 

There was talk from the staff that while crawfish season had ended, they would probably be doing Friday evening Cochon de Laits in June.  This is a Cajun version of what is known in  these parts as a pig pickin', or barbecue.  If that's the case, you'll definitely see us there! 

Wine Review: 2012 Coppola Sofia Rose'

While I am known to enjoy them in all seasons, late Spring and Summer see the return of Rose' wines to my table.   There is just something refreshing and lively in a rose', something inherently spring-like about these wines, that makes them perfect for this time of year.   Perhaps it is their youthfulness; these wines have been made for immediate consumption, from grapes harvested just last fall, and have undergone just the barest amount of conditioning.  Even as I write this, there are ships laden with these wines headed for our shores. 


Unfortunately, pink wine has a sweet and terrible stigma attached to it.  White Zinfandel has given rose' wines a bad name, and lots of people automatically associate pink color with a sweet flavor profile.   Nothing could be further from the truth.  In fact, the original White Zinfandel was a mistake.  As legend has it, the winemaker was attempting to produce a traditional, dry rose' from the juice of Zinfandel grapes, and somehow fermentation was inadvertently arrested.   This resulted in a wine with high levels of residual sugars and a somewhat lower alcohol.  He realized that that he had captured lightning in a bottle, and that this sweet and fruity wine would suit the American market perfectly.  It went on to take the country by storm and became a wine that made them millions and millions.  I remember being in high school and a 5 liter box of this being as much a grocery staple for my parent's house as eggs, milk and bread.  And while it is the custom of Cork Dorks such as myself to look down our noses at White Zinfandel as sticky kid's stuff, let's be honest: it is the gateway drug of wine, and is responsible for producing more new wine drinkers than any of our beloved Burgundies or Chateaneufs. 

Made by the rapidly growing wine firm founded by Francis Ford Coppola of cinematic fame (and yes, I can quote parts of Apocalypse Now and The Godfather from memory), Sofia is a line of wines named after his daughter, who has some renown in cinematic circles herself.   The 2012 Rose is a blend of Syrah and Grenache sourced from Monterrey County.  This 80/20 blend turns on its head the traditional ratio of grapes often found in wines of this style from southern France, which favors Grenache as the dominant force. 

What struck me about this wine was that it had a deeper coloration than most European rose's.  According to the website, this is because the grapes undergo a two day cold soak, which allows the skins to give greater pigmentation to the wine while forestalling fermentation.  On the nose, the wine has a subtle bouquet of fresh red berries and a slight herbal note.  On the palate, it is all strawberry and raspberry, light, fruity and juicy with a restrained but discernible sweetness.  This doesn't have the bone-dryness that a Provencal wine might, but it doesn't veer off into White Zinfandel territory either.  I could, however, see this as being an introduction for people who prefer sweet wines to a little more serious side of the wine world. 

This wine would make a great accompaniment to lighter summertime fare: salads, a cheese and charcuterie plate, or some cold fried chicken.   In fact, I could see this as being a perfect companion to a summertime picnic lunch.  Clocking in at only 12.5% ABV, this is benign enough for midday enjoyment, provided you don't have much to do later than perhaps cook dinner or open another bottle.  And the price is modest as well, I only paid about twelve bucks for this bottle. 

So, go ahead and give one of these a try.  I'm a big guy, I drive a 4X4 truck and do lots of manly things.  But I also like pink wine.  Find yourself a nice bottle of Rose' and enjoy a taste of summertime in a glass!

WSET III: The Final Chapter

Thanks Brianna!

Last Tuesday I took the exam that brought to an end 15 weeks of study, anxiety and fraternity.  I have been enrolled in the Wine and Spirits Educational Trust's Level III Advanced class since the middle of January.   On May 7 we all sat for the exam, which counts for 100% of our grade.  The test is comprised of three parts:  50 multiple choice questions, an essay/ short answer section comprised of four large components and a smaller fifth, and a blind tasting of one red and one white wine.   Sounds easy, right?  Yeah, think again.  I fretted over this test for weeks.  Sometimes I felt like pulling my hair out as we struggled through blind flights of wine, trying to listen to each glass to suss out the differentiating characteristics that would give us hints as to whether it was a Chablis, a Sancerre or a Pouilly-Fuisse; a Margaux from a ripe vintage or an Oakville cab from an old-school, austere producer; a lighter Amador Zinfandel or a heady and extracted Southern Rhone.  Is that medium plus tannin or just medium?  Off-dry or medium-dry?  What constitutes a long finish versus a medium plus length of finish?  Yeah, I hope you brought some Tums. 

While I won't see my results for a maddening six to eight weeks (practically unforgivable in this age of scantron grading, but don't get me started), I can report with a fair degree of confidence that I definitely passed, and I feel that I probably passed with merit.  I don't think that passing with distinction is entirely out of the question, but I try to keep a certain balance of humility in my life now.   Nevertheless, I feel good about the outcome, and look very much forward to another notch in the handle of my academic pistol. 

To celebrate: A magnum of Pol-Roger!

But one of the greatest things about this class has been the opportunity to meet, socialize and form friendships with some really spectacular, like minded wine aficionados.  There's an old saying in New Orleans: "It's not what you know, its who your Daddy knows."  I think it's a pretty universal notion and not one limited to the provincial life of my hometown, but I think that the more modern, less patriarchal spin on it is that networking in any field is of paramount importance for career advancement.  And this class gave me an unprecedented ability to network.  On the personal recommendation of a (to remain unnamed) person in my class, I have already secured a new position with a different company, and it promises bright things for Your Humble Narrator.  I have also made some dear friends who I intend to keep in contact with, not because of their industry connections or the contents of their cellars, but because they are genuinely wonderful people with whom I share a lot in common.   First and foremost, our love of the delight and diversity of the world of fermented grapes, but also our sense of adventure, and our love of other cultures (especially as expressed through their wines).

This class has been one of the dominant reasons my blog posts have become so sporadic.  Now that it has concluded, I hope to resume a more furious and regular pace of writing. 

But several shout outs to my classmates first:

Chef Catherine:  You are the Yoda to our Luke Skywalkers.  Without you, so many things would have gone unexplained or been poorly explained.  I could always tell when I had asked a good question, a bad question, or a question that was outside the need-to-know parameters of class.  Thank you for handling my inquiries with grace and intelligence.  I am in your debt.

Mr. James:  Thank you for your unending generosity in sharing lovely selections from your cellar.  Without those bottles, we would have never come to understand as well as we do now the intersection of age and fine wine.  I have learned so much  from what you have shared: what I like in an aged wine, and how much age I like on certain wines.  You have inspired me to buy things for my cellar to be aged for many many years, and I know now that some things I prefer on the more youthful side.

Kevin:  Thank you for your wit, your sense of organization, and your ability to motivate others to action. 

Brianna:  Even though you didn't take the exam, thank you for your support, and your lovely celebratory parting gift.  I only wish you had been there to share it with us!

And to the kids, the students:  I wish you great things in your future.  To have the fortitude to even attempt this, much less follow it through to its conclusion shows that you have a bright future, whether in the biz, or any biz.  Go forth and kick some ass!

To everyone else:  I enjoyed my time with you, and look forward to seeing you again in one of our tasting groups.  I've made some friends, and hope to see you again in a less hair-pulling and studious environment.  Someday soon we'll be able to just DRINK some wine and not ASSESS it.

AND NOW FOR THE PHOTO HIGHLIGHT REEL

celebrating some of the delicious things
we had the chance to explore during the15 weeks we met

 

(please excuse the sometimes poor quality of these cellphone pictures)