In the seventies I remember being fascinated by the small bubble in the figure of eight thingummy on the top of my father's demijohn. Boots winekits were all the rage and the product was consumed quickly in our house. I upset the bucket of home brewed lager once and the house stank of yeast for the rest of our time there. Oh well...
I spent much time during that decade and the early eighties consuming industrial quantities of Carlsberg Special Snakebite or Pernod and blackcurrant, mostly in a shed on the seaside promenade. It was on a school exchange visit to France that drinking took on a new complexion. Wine with food that tasted sublime - yes please! And I have never looked back...
I don't profess to be expert, but I know what I like and that I will gladly share.
So let's get on with it guys. Start naming names.
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Friday, April 20, 2007
The Wine Wanderers
I can say with certainty that I represent the neophyte constituency of the THE BOTTLE. As such, my ambition is to develop my knowledge and taste, when given a choice of wines, beyond a preference for the larger bottle.
And so I find myself in better company with Screwtop and Sommelier. I am sure we will be adding other monikers of fermented prose to the racks. In the meantime, I would like to add to the philosophy of the bottle.
Firstly, out of principle I am in agreement with manifestos, especially one concerning wine. Perhaps that makes us a modern version of the Champagne Socialist, except that we are not restricting ourselves to such a narrow sphere. And like Orwell, we reject wine nationalism, we reject the power in the concentration of taste, we reject the usurpation of the language of the critic. Drinkers Unite!
Secondly, in order to reject Parker and to restore true criticism of wine, and in fact to support true criticism itself, I suggest that our manifesto reject any scale, measurement, or any form of arbitrary ranking of wines. The growth of such arbitrariness has removed discourse from our public spaces. As the numbers take the place of communication, so our understanding, appreciation and involvement wanes. Quality then becomes not about enjoyment and the relationship with the wine so well described by Sommelier, but merely the superlative. This is the best wine. How do we know? It's a Parker 100. Or, more frighteningly, it's more expensive than your wine.
Let's speak in ordinary English, free from meaningless metaphor and superiority supported by posture rather than debate. Let us understand where differences are in the quality of grape and production, and where they are constructed in the 'quality' of taste.
Thirdly, there shall be no prejudice. I must say, I love to be snobbish about wine, not only for the semblance of understanding, but also as a way of cutting down the endless choice in the wine store. However, why not celebrate the $2 plonk found in the remainder bin, as long as we know, following from the second point, why we are celebrating it? Is that not the joy of this - as in life. Is there there no serendipity in Chardonnay? I say we reject Sidewaysisms. I say that we want more Merlot. I say that we put Australian wine on the Barbie. I say that we find reason in Reisling. I say yes to all creeds and colours of wine.
This is not just The Bottle. This is the start of a revolution. It is the restoration of civility, of cooperation, of understanding. This is the return not just to wine drinking, but to just wine drinking. I challenge all of you to have THE BOTTLE.
And so I find myself in better company with Screwtop and Sommelier. I am sure we will be adding other monikers of fermented prose to the racks. In the meantime, I would like to add to the philosophy of the bottle.
Firstly, out of principle I am in agreement with manifestos, especially one concerning wine. Perhaps that makes us a modern version of the Champagne Socialist, except that we are not restricting ourselves to such a narrow sphere. And like Orwell, we reject wine nationalism, we reject the power in the concentration of taste, we reject the usurpation of the language of the critic. Drinkers Unite!
Secondly, in order to reject Parker and to restore true criticism of wine, and in fact to support true criticism itself, I suggest that our manifesto reject any scale, measurement, or any form of arbitrary ranking of wines. The growth of such arbitrariness has removed discourse from our public spaces. As the numbers take the place of communication, so our understanding, appreciation and involvement wanes. Quality then becomes not about enjoyment and the relationship with the wine so well described by Sommelier, but merely the superlative. This is the best wine. How do we know? It's a Parker 100. Or, more frighteningly, it's more expensive than your wine.
Let's speak in ordinary English, free from meaningless metaphor and superiority supported by posture rather than debate. Let us understand where differences are in the quality of grape and production, and where they are constructed in the 'quality' of taste.
Thirdly, there shall be no prejudice. I must say, I love to be snobbish about wine, not only for the semblance of understanding, but also as a way of cutting down the endless choice in the wine store. However, why not celebrate the $2 plonk found in the remainder bin, as long as we know, following from the second point, why we are celebrating it? Is that not the joy of this - as in life. Is there there no serendipity in Chardonnay? I say we reject Sidewaysisms. I say that we want more Merlot. I say that we put Australian wine on the Barbie. I say that we find reason in Reisling. I say yes to all creeds and colours of wine.
This is not just The Bottle. This is the start of a revolution. It is the restoration of civility, of cooperation, of understanding. This is the return not just to wine drinking, but to just wine drinking. I challenge all of you to have THE BOTTLE.
Thursday, April 19, 2007
100 Bottles of Champagne on the (Great) Wall
Given its blistering growth and frenetic energy, Shanghai today feels like New York City circa 1999. Anything is possible.
As alluded to on my previous posting, I made several pilgrimages to Jean-Georges on my recent trip to Shanghai. Was it the view of Pudong morphing across the water? Was it the magnificent menu, French-based, with Asian influences? Was it the wine list? I am not sure that even I could tell you.
On our first meal at Jean-Georges, the maestro himself was in the kitchen. We had a fabulous lunch (the foie gras "brulee" is not to be missed!) accented by an always-great Jaboulet "Parallele 45". The excellent and approachable sommelier, Yvonne, also let us sample some local wine. We tried a Merlot and a Chardonnay, both by Grace Vineyard, about which I had read in the Wine Spectator. Um, let me just be diplomatic by saying that I applaud the effort, but in my humble opinion, Chinese wines still have a bit of a long march to go.
We popped into Jean-Georges for a drink the next afternoon (we were in the building lunching at the Whampoa Club--also recommended). "Om", the bar manager, greeted us with a weary (and wary?) look in her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"It was a late one," she slumped.
"Really? Why?"
"It was our 3rd Anniversary."
"Sounds like fun."
"It was," she began, "100 bottles of Champagne fun!"
100 bottles! We cursed the fact that we weren't invited. Ah, well, maybe for the 4th Anniversary, Om?
Shanghai is champagne-crazy. In addition to the Jean-Georges blow-out, we witnessed a champagne party at Glamour Bar across the street the next night, hosted by one of the Champagne houses (my bad for not recalling which!).
We only caught the tail-end, but I would wager that the scale of consumption eclipsed even that of the Jean Georges fete. They are burning through the bubbly on the Bund!
If I owned a champagne house (maybe next lifetime?) I would be rubbing my hands in glee at the wild, wild East. Laissez les bons temps rouler!
As alluded to on my previous posting, I made several pilgrimages to Jean-Georges on my recent trip to Shanghai. Was it the view of Pudong morphing across the water? Was it the magnificent menu, French-based, with Asian influences? Was it the wine list? I am not sure that even I could tell you.
On our first meal at Jean-Georges, the maestro himself was in the kitchen. We had a fabulous lunch (the foie gras "brulee" is not to be missed!) accented by an always-great Jaboulet "Parallele 45". The excellent and approachable sommelier, Yvonne, also let us sample some local wine. We tried a Merlot and a Chardonnay, both by Grace Vineyard, about which I had read in the Wine Spectator. Um, let me just be diplomatic by saying that I applaud the effort, but in my humble opinion, Chinese wines still have a bit of a long march to go.
We popped into Jean-Georges for a drink the next afternoon (we were in the building lunching at the Whampoa Club--also recommended). "Om", the bar manager, greeted us with a weary (and wary?) look in her eyes.
"What's wrong?"
"It was a late one," she slumped.
"Really? Why?"
"It was our 3rd Anniversary."
"Sounds like fun."
"It was," she began, "100 bottles of Champagne fun!"
100 bottles! We cursed the fact that we weren't invited. Ah, well, maybe for the 4th Anniversary, Om?
Shanghai is champagne-crazy. In addition to the Jean-Georges blow-out, we witnessed a champagne party at Glamour Bar across the street the next night, hosted by one of the Champagne houses (my bad for not recalling which!).
We only caught the tail-end, but I would wager that the scale of consumption eclipsed even that of the Jean Georges fete. They are burning through the bubbly on the Bund!
If I owned a champagne house (maybe next lifetime?) I would be rubbing my hands in glee at the wild, wild East. Laissez les bons temps rouler!
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
why write about wine?
To start with, wine is above all a shared pleasure and what better than to write amongst friends about what is good and what is worthy of the spitoon. Most writing about wine collapses into simple description - an attempt, always extremely difficult, to render into language the non-verbal subtleties of taste. But of course taste in wine is deeply personal and extremely dependent on context. To set something so ephemeral down in the black and white of prose often ends up looking a pretentious failure. Written on the wind (hic, sic wine).
But wine writing does matter. Look at the example of Robert Parker, a passionate enthusiast, who has dominated the market, literally, because of the eloquence of his taste. His words have huge economic impact, can make or break certain vineyards, triumph key vintages. But, of course, his taste is as partial and limited as any single one man's must inevitably be. Without being personally offensive lets look a little deeper into the Parker bouquet - its perfume of mystery as the French might term it. His palate is for red over white, and for the dark over the light. He tends to look for and praise wines that aim for a purple darkness they might as well be black. He favours the heavy fruit and the strong use of oak. In otherwords, he seeks to pull wine towards his own yardstick of success. To the dismay of many, winemakers throughout the world are only to happy to follow such prescriptive writing, creating wines in accordance with an internationally accepted standard. This can create hollow parodies of wine - reds seeking to dress themselves up in the colour and texture of another wine, desperately applying large amounts of oak to give the appearance of depth and character.
Therefore to inaugurate our wine blog I'd like to propose a brief anti-Parker manifesto. Let wine be itself - let us not seek to homogenise or construct some table of taste. Our blog aims to celebrate the local and the different and the authentic. At the risk of sounding over philosophical what matters about wine is the meeting of history, culture and pleasure in the single instant - everything that has gone into the bottle before the bottle has gone (and lingers well afterwards). History - 'the terroir' - what has grown there in the past, what grape varietals the land and climate suits, as well as the history of its own past successes and failures; Culture - the type of wine grown, its place and purpose - in other words the relative ambition or modesty of the wine made, its relation to its owners and the nature and the size of their business (family owned or multi-national conglomerate); Pleasure - that of course wine drinking is a highly libidinous activity, a pleasure released and shared each time a bottle is opened.
Now my fellow drinkers all that must be worth writing about.
But wine writing does matter. Look at the example of Robert Parker, a passionate enthusiast, who has dominated the market, literally, because of the eloquence of his taste. His words have huge economic impact, can make or break certain vineyards, triumph key vintages. But, of course, his taste is as partial and limited as any single one man's must inevitably be. Without being personally offensive lets look a little deeper into the Parker bouquet - its perfume of mystery as the French might term it. His palate is for red over white, and for the dark over the light. He tends to look for and praise wines that aim for a purple darkness they might as well be black. He favours the heavy fruit and the strong use of oak. In otherwords, he seeks to pull wine towards his own yardstick of success. To the dismay of many, winemakers throughout the world are only to happy to follow such prescriptive writing, creating wines in accordance with an internationally accepted standard. This can create hollow parodies of wine - reds seeking to dress themselves up in the colour and texture of another wine, desperately applying large amounts of oak to give the appearance of depth and character.
Therefore to inaugurate our wine blog I'd like to propose a brief anti-Parker manifesto. Let wine be itself - let us not seek to homogenise or construct some table of taste. Our blog aims to celebrate the local and the different and the authentic. At the risk of sounding over philosophical what matters about wine is the meeting of history, culture and pleasure in the single instant - everything that has gone into the bottle before the bottle has gone (and lingers well afterwards). History - 'the terroir' - what has grown there in the past, what grape varietals the land and climate suits, as well as the history of its own past successes and failures; Culture - the type of wine grown, its place and purpose - in other words the relative ambition or modesty of the wine made, its relation to its owners and the nature and the size of their business (family owned or multi-national conglomerate); Pleasure - that of course wine drinking is a highly libidinous activity, a pleasure released and shared each time a bottle is opened.
Now my fellow drinkers all that must be worth writing about.
Two Vines (Two Times!) in Shanghai
Why fly half-way around the world to drink a wine that is essentially local? Why, value, of course!
Two weeks ago I headed back to what is probably the wildest, most dynamic city on earth (no slight intended to my former home of NYC!)...Shanghai. My two buddies from San Francisco, Dan and Michael met me shortly after my arrival, and we proceeded to dine at "Sasha's", an atmospheric circa-1920 mansion on the cusp of the French Concession.
Dan and I ordered some spicy Singaporean Laksa, and so were inclined to go for either a Syrah or a Shiraz. Despite a plethora of Aussie options, we chose the Columbia Crest 2003 "Two Vines" Shiraz (the wine menu, impressively, had scores and comments for various wines. According to the menu, Robert Parker had tagged this wine a great value, and bestowed upon it 90 pts). If I remember correctly, it cost about 400 RMB ($50 USD), and was indeed a great pairing with the Laksa (spicy, but less-over-the-top than most Shiraz's). As fine as it was, it was overshadowed by its sibling the very next day.
Jet-lag and a veeery late first night in Shanghai notwithstanding, we made our way to "New Heights" at 3 on the Bund the next evening. The views were, as always, utterly stunning. Alas, it was too cold to sit outside, so we made due with a somewhat-less-stunning interior view.
Dan and Michael live in Mill Valley, and hence are apt to lobby for New World Cab-Sav's and Sav-Blancs whenever given the option. Fresh off of our Shiraz hurrah the night before, we jumped at the opportunity to order a Two Vines Cab (also a 2003). It was even better than the Shiraz (complex, very well-balanced), and it paired well with a range of hearty appetizers and Michael's pasta.
It was encouraging to find what is close to a "local" wine in Shanghai--most of us bloggers spend most of our time in British Columbia; until B.C. wines start showing up in Asia, Washington State is a reasonable prox(imit)y.
Next posting I shall expound on our Shanghai dining and wining experiences, and hopefully talk a little bit about this past weekend in Vegas.
Double happiness!
Two weeks ago I headed back to what is probably the wildest, most dynamic city on earth (no slight intended to my former home of NYC!)...Shanghai. My two buddies from San Francisco, Dan and Michael met me shortly after my arrival, and we proceeded to dine at "Sasha's", an atmospheric circa-1920 mansion on the cusp of the French Concession.
Dan and I ordered some spicy Singaporean Laksa, and so were inclined to go for either a Syrah or a Shiraz. Despite a plethora of Aussie options, we chose the Columbia Crest 2003 "Two Vines" Shiraz (the wine menu, impressively, had scores and comments for various wines. According to the menu, Robert Parker had tagged this wine a great value, and bestowed upon it 90 pts). If I remember correctly, it cost about 400 RMB ($50 USD), and was indeed a great pairing with the Laksa (spicy, but less-over-the-top than most Shiraz's). As fine as it was, it was overshadowed by its sibling the very next day.
Jet-lag and a veeery late first night in Shanghai notwithstanding, we made our way to "New Heights" at 3 on the Bund the next evening. The views were, as always, utterly stunning. Alas, it was too cold to sit outside, so we made due with a somewhat-less-stunning interior view.
Dan and Michael live in Mill Valley, and hence are apt to lobby for New World Cab-Sav's and Sav-Blancs whenever given the option. Fresh off of our Shiraz hurrah the night before, we jumped at the opportunity to order a Two Vines Cab (also a 2003). It was even better than the Shiraz (complex, very well-balanced), and it paired well with a range of hearty appetizers and Michael's pasta.
It was encouraging to find what is close to a "local" wine in Shanghai--most of us bloggers spend most of our time in British Columbia; until B.C. wines start showing up in Asia, Washington State is a reasonable prox(imit)y.
Next posting I shall expound on our Shanghai dining and wining experiences, and hopefully talk a little bit about this past weekend in Vegas.
Double happiness!
Sunday, April 1, 2007
What is the point?
So...the three of us have been talking about doing this for some time: creating a blog devoted to our common passion: wine. Now, we just need to figure out what, exactly, that means!
I hope that we will discuss not only the pretty obvious topic of wines which we have recently encountered, but broaden our scope to cover the range of our interactions with wines. Areas that I would hope to see us explore include:
I hope that we will discuss not only the pretty obvious topic of wines which we have recently encountered, but broaden our scope to cover the range of our interactions with wines. Areas that I would hope to see us explore include:
- Wines we have recently sampled (our impressions on taste/quality/price, with ideally a little bit of information on the winemaker)
- Restaurants where we have had the opportunity to try wines. We would hope to highlight restaurants offering lists which are particularly interesting and/or affordable
- Wine travel! Two of us are based in British Columbia; I would expect to see some write-ups on local vineyards.
- Also, as all of us will be making our way to France this summer, I expect that we will convey some of our experiences with wines, foods and scenic travels in Europe
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