Words of Wine

Natalie McLean is a damn good writer and knows her way around a bottle and a vineyard or two.

Her recent Red, White and Drunk All Over is a fun and educational book, and I've actually just finished it. So unlike talk show hosts, I am not working from the Cliff's Notes version hastily written by an intern who's been up all night turning pages. Gee, I wish I had an intern.

Anyway, good as she is, I disagree with her a bit when when she says on her website that every wine lover should have a "house wine." In my experience, that is precisely what people who are new to wine get wrong, and what often keeps them from learning about new wine places, varietals and styles.

Is there anything wrong with enjoying a particular wine, and keeping several bottles of it on hand for guests and gatherings? No. But I can't tell you how many times I've visited friends and been "treated" to the same Merlot from a single winery - their "house wine." When they visit, they are gracious enough to bring wine as a gift, but guess what they bring? Gee, thanks, what a surprise - twice in one week!

Fact is, I'm a big fan of Merlot-based wines, especially those from St. Emilion and Pomerol, and anyone who's tasted a Chateau Angelus sure knows what I mean. And I've even been known to enjoy a glass of Rabbit Ridge Merlot from time to time. But it's just one grape in the pantheon of reds, and while my well-meaning friends are happily numbing their palates, they're missing out on so much. It's just too easy to stay with one varietal once you get comfortable with it, like a worn out couch...or husband. And I could just as well substitute Cabernet Sauvignon, or Pinot Noir. So here's a short list of what you're missing:

Cabernet Franc: As a varietal it can be wonderful, with vegetal notes in a cherry wrapping. Try Lang & Reed.

Carmenere: Almost unknown here, they do great things with this smoky, leathery grape in France and Chile, and nowadays even California. Also known as Grand Vidure.

Charbono: Obscure grape that they're still making into a varietal in north Napa. Try Summers Estate Winery.

Grenache: So delicious as the base of French red Chateauneuf du Pape wines. White Grenache is the base of the white ones.

Mourvedre: An intense, tannic and gamey grape that originated in Spain. Can stand alone but is most often used in blends. Also called Monastrell.

Norton: A native North American grape that can produce a spicy, raspberry-y red. Try Augusta Winery.

Petit Syrah: Not the same as Syrah, and makes a fabulous varietal every bit as big and bold as a cult Cabernet. Try Pedroncelli.

Pinotage: A South African cross of Pinot Noir with Cinsault.

Sangiovese: Base for Chianti wines. When blended with Cabernet and/or Merlot, these are the so-called "Super Tuscans." A clone of Sangiovese goes into one of the best wines of the last 10 years, the Casanova di Neri Brunello di Montalcino Tenuta Nuova, which got an unheard-of 100 points in 2001 from Wine Spectator, and was its "Wine of the Year" in 2006.

Tempranillo: Spanish grape, main part of Spanish Rioja red wines and goes into Port under the name Tinto Roriz.

Tannat: From the French Madiran region. Intensely tannic wine that can cellar age for decades.

Love your house wine, if you have one. But step out on it frequently. You'll be glad you were unfaithful.

"So how's that glass of Seyval Blanc I just poured you? What d'ya think of that Baco Noir? Care to purchase another bottle of Norton? It's on special today only."

You've probably never heard these words, unless, perhaps, you live in New York's Hudson River Valley and you get out a bit. And if you want to expand your tastes and wine experience a bit, here's a primer to get you started:

Seyval Blanc is a French-American hybrid that's a little reminiscent of Sauvignon Blanc, and can produce outstanding, crisp dry white wines as well as slightly sweet ones. When mixed with Chardonnay, as they do very well at Baldwin Vineyards with their Mist de Greco, or Clinton Vineyards where they do a 100% Seyval, it's a nice change from the whites you probably drink frequently.

Baco Noir is another hybrid, this time a red, that produces a foxy, smoky varietal a bit like Charbono, another grape you may not know. Benmarl in upstate NY makes a great Baco.

Norton, which was introduced to the US in the 1830s by one Dr. Daniel N. Norton of Richmond, Virginia, is sometimes called "America's True Grape." They make very nice wine from Norton in New York, Virginia (Chrysalis Vineyards), Illinois, and especially in Missouri where it's the popular state grape. Bet you didn't even know that Missouri had a state grape! Try the Stone Hill Winery for this one, too.

And I'll throw in a couple from across the pond, too.

Savagnin is a European white grape that can make an aromatic, sherry-like wine and is widely grown in the Jura region and often bottled as Vin Jaune or "yellow wine." The nutty taste is unmistakable and makes a great aperitif before dinner in place of cocktails. Look for the place name of Arbois where it's sometimes mixed with Chardonnay and gets a little closer to table wine.

Picpoul Blanc (Picpoul de Pinet) is a white grape and one of the few grown in France whose wine is named for itself rather than the place where it's grown. Its name means "lip stinger" and it really is, with crisp citrus and floral flavors that go great with seafood. Right now the easiest to find is Chateau St. Peyre, Picpoul de Pinet 2006.

We'll do more of these somewhat obscure wines in the near future.

Cheers. DG

I built this website to help you de-mystify the world of wine, so that you can try new stuff at your local retailer, or order confidently in a restaurant. And this little article should also give you some gumption when you attend your first, or 20th, wine tasting.

So - you're invited to a formal wine tasting...and you want to go. After all, it's for a worthy charity that you know, and the buzz is they've got some wonderful cult California reds and brilliant French white Burgundies. Yum.

So you register, and pay your $75, and you show up with excitement and anticipation. You're relatively new to the world of wine, and the only "tastings" you've ever attended are at a friend's house. And we all know that those were really more like wine "drinkings," also known as "parties." So when you stand outside and gaze into the tasting room, you feel overwhelmed as you watch the light reflect off hundreds of freshly washed glasses, while the assembled guests preen and prance around like masters of the universe.

This is supposed to be fun, right? But all you see is very serious-looking people having what look like very serious conversations with well-dressed men and women standing behind the tables, carefully pouring a small sample into each glass. The guests hold their glasses up to the light very deliberately, and then swirl them with great ostentation before sticking their noses in so deeply that you think they'll break - the glasses, their noses, or both. You hear one say something about the "mid-palate" and another remark that "so much time in 100% French oak is obvious." Some guests even have those little shiny "tastevins" around their neck, while the prettiest woman in the room is spitting into a ceramic bucket from five feet away with the accuracy of a Marine sniper.

Aside from all these affectations of wine tasting, you think to yourself "I'm not really experienced or very good at this...and what if one of the wine suppliers asks me to describe their product wine in 'wine terms' - I will literally shrink to the floor!" You assume that the palates of these critics - and their tastes in wine in general - are so much more "refined" that you're simply out of place here. Well, don't, and, you're not.

Why do I say that? 'Cause in 2001, a professor at the University of Bordeaux conducted two wine tasting experiments that show just how much we all are influenced by pre-conceived perceptions.

In the first of his two, well, scams, Professor Frederick Brochet invited a slew of self-anointed wine experts to describe the flavors and aromas of both red and white wines he poured. One of these high priests lauded the red for its "jamminess," while another talked of its "crushed red fruit." None of the almost 60 experienced tasters figured out that the red was really a white wine, tinted darkly with food coloring!

The second test with a different group was even sneakier, in which ordinary and inexpensive red table wine was placed in a pricey Grand Cru-labeled bottle, and also in its original labeled bottle. In other words, a single wine was passed off as itself and as something far superior. Yet three-quarters of the experts there judged the "grand cru" as "complex, balanced and rounded," while the vin du table in their view was "weak, light, flat and faulty". But it was the same wine!

My points here are simple: