An Open Letter to Big Red Wines

So you’ve come back. Do you really think you can just come traipsing back into my life again after leaving for an entire summer? You want me to just pick you up again as if everything was fine? Am I really supposed to just take you back?

Sorry Honey. I’ve moved on. I’ve met so many fantastic white wines after you left that I barely even remembered you. I met a Torrontes from Argentina. That’s right. We saw Shakespeare in the Park together. Did you know I spent some time on the beach with a Sauvignon Blanc from California? Yup. That was in June and I’ve had that same wine three times since then. Uh huh. Unlike you, it’s crisp and it’s bright and it refreshes me like you never did.

Did you hear I met a Viognier for the first time this July? Well I did. I even brought it to my family picnic. Guess what? They loved it. I might even take it over and introduce it to the guys on game night. So don’t even try to weasel back in like you and me got it goin’ on.

Did you know I had to put the big red wine glasses away after you left? I should have known you wouldn’t be around once the weather got nice. I was so stupid! And I have no doubt that you’re probably showing up in other people’s glasses right now too. No! We’re done! Things are different now. We. Are. Done.

Don’t get me wrong. I wish you well. I mean, you always did go well with steak. Do you still go well with steak? I bet you do. Remember that night at the cabin? The night of two bottles? You were amazing. You’re always amazing on a cold night. We were good together, weren’t we? It would be fun to do something like that again. We have so much history together. It would be a shame to just turn our backs on so much history. Okay, maybe I’ll have just one glass. For old time’s sake —   but I’m not taking you back.

This week’s recommendation:

Guglielmo Private Reserve, Petite Sirah 2007 ($24.99): With flavors of smoke, chocolate, and leather, Guglielmo tastes like something we love to reminisce about but are careful not to talk about. This wine is big and meaty and buxom and delicious and a great way to welcome back the big red wine season. Grab a bottle and create some history.

To read more of Kris Barber’s insights on wine, visit his blog at www.winerogue.wordpress.com.

 

Auction of Washinton Wines: Attack of the Picnic

It’s kind of ironic that I usually find the most hooking part of a wine event to be the food. From the good to the bad and, of course, the heinously unattractive, enologically-inclined cuisine can swing whatever way the experienced (or lack there of) chef turn sends it.

The Auction of Washington Wines Picnic was a turn for the good. With innovative and creative menu items and presentation options, the restaurants of the Tulalip Casino wow’d their audience for the second year in a row.

Here’s a few of my favorites…

Amended Taglines for Paul Masson Wines

We will serve no wine before its time…that said, I’m also the same guy who would serve no high calorie snacks during the football game, and that didn’t pan out so well.

We will serve no wine before its time…but then again, we’re all drunk and I didn’t expect the beer to go this fast.

We will serve no wine before its time…and while I’m at it, I will serve no sushi again at the all day, fun-in-the-sun company picnic.

We will serve no wine before its time…oh, and coffee enemas are out too.

We will serve no wine before its time…unless you’re on death row and it’s your last request. We might consider it then.

We will serve no wine before its time…but if you do happen to get some before its time, discontinue use if rash or irritation occurs.

We will serve no wine before its time…and you can’t even have any when it is its time, Bob. Idiot.

Blend Seattle

A Wine Event Celebrating the Art of Blending

The measure of a chef, it’s fair to say, is his/her ability to pick the finest of ingredients, assemble them in such a way that the characteristics of each complement the others, resulting in a dish that delivers texture and flavor that pleases the palate. If, for example, you found yourself seated at Tendrils Restaurant at Cave B Inn, and ordered the special, you’d probably be pretty disappointed if they brought you a banana instead of Double R Ranch striploin on rustic blue cheese mashed yukons with black trumpet bordelaise. Nothing against bananas, but you don’t need Executive Chef Bear Ullman for that. You just don’t.

The same is true with wine and winemakers. Nearly every bottle you see on the shelf is a blend of some kind. Sure, there are the Bordeaux blends, “red wine” blends, table wines, etc., but even apparent single varietals are rarely 100%, and when they are, they’re often blends of different lots, different vineyards, different AVAs. A winemaker, like a chef, is constantly assembling constituent ingredients to make a great wine. A little of this for structure, a little of that for mouthfeel, a little of this for color, a little of that for body. (Imagine Dr. Frankenstein rolling Angelina Jolie off the assembly line.) Even if you pick up a bottle of Cabernet Sauvignon, for example, to be called such on the lable, the bottle has only to contain 75% of Cab. A quarter of the volume can be made up of whatever else the winemaker feels would enhance the overall composition of the wine, and it can make a big difference.