Les Blog

[ In honor of the new NBA World Champions, here's a reprint of a column I wrote back in the Jordan era about basketball and wine. Check out the stars I mention -- now that's old school, baby! ]

A dark arena surrounding a gauzy, spotlit court. Everything seems slow, supercharged and saturated, almost dreamlike. Michael Jordan, lean and crouched, is facing off against some hapless guard as the ref tosses the ball skyward. Cut to a tight shot of the ball rising to the height of its arc until Jordan is just about to touch the ball. There’s the woody sound of a cork being coaxed out of a bottle, and then freeze-frame and echoy silence — maybe the distant clink-clink of full bottles — as everything stops, hanging for a moment.

“Domaine Dunquage. Red, white, and beyond…”

Didn’t see that one during the playoffs? Neither did we, but as we wandered into sports bars, asking after their corkage fee, we began to wonder why. What is it about sports in America that has made it so inhospitable for wine, and yet so welcoming for beer and other beverages?
Continued …

>????????e getting closer. This 60% Tannat, 20% Merlot, 20% Sauvignon has a subtle grapefruit-pineapple bouquet, light mineral body with an aloe-vera finish, but is still a bit light on the acid for my taste. Around $9.

In our relentless quest to compromise each of the five senses, the Garagistes have now ticked off one more: sound. Our vast, if subterranean efforts have been highlighted in a new broadcast/podcast of Destination DIY, Julie Sabatier’s “monthly radio show and podcast about revolutionary do-it-yourself projects.”

Julie actually found us through my Life in Vine site, where I store a passel of articles I’ve written, one of two of which focus on amateur winemaking. So she brought her spiffy digital recorder and photographer Tim LaBarge down the back stairs to take a listen. “This basement has the best sound of any I’ve ever been in,” she said, incredulously — how many wineries can boast that, eh?

Mercifully, the podcast isn’t just about us. In fact, it’s mostly about amateur brewers, one set of which came to a listening party at NE Portland’s Waypost Julie threw together to debut her mix. Affable brewers Nate and Matt passed around one of their batches, and it was incredibly well-made. Hmm: if we get rid of the washer/dryer, we’d have room for a mashtun downstairs…

Here’s the podcast itself, synched with Tim’s great pics, and here’s Julie’s home at KBOO. And be sure to check out Julie’s other podcasts here : she’s definitely a skilled editor and interviewer.

Les Rastellains, Côtes du Rhône, 2007.

Merde. Either the humidity levels here in northern Florida have impaired my olfactory abilities (given the size of the proboscis in question, I may actually be acting as a sort of massive desiccant, actually drying out the region, which in turn may improve my chances of actually flying instead of spending all day at the helibase waiting for ignition), or this wine just plain lacks a bouquet. Et je vous dis merde encore.

Tasting notes: anemic synthesized raspberries, picked well before ripe. During one particularly notable sip, I thought I detected a sensation that might approximate biting into a fresh, soft, pine two-by-four, if said lumber were easily masticated. Wannabe retsina, if you will; unwilling to commit yet leaving the tongue with that vaguely preserved feeling. At best, a mineral finish, or perhaps just a hint of formaldehyde.

On a brighter note, has anyone seen Charlize Theron around town?

Bisous,
–Matt

Dear Comrades,

For the glory of the proletariat collective, I hereby call upon all true workers to unite in the pursuit, campaign, and conquest of the ultimate icon of our movement. This undertaking must bind us all together in our universal quest to find this symbol of global unity: the perfect pink wine. All true party members will contribute their experience and tasting notes from potentially worthy pinko wines to this blog.

As a demonstration of my commitment to the cause, I humbly submit a review of the Marques de Caceres 2005 Rioja Rose, Spain, even though I have refused the medal of valor merited by consumption of this liquid:

Alas, Comrades, this wine does not represent the fighting spirit of Stalingrad, though it does fit the working class budget at $8.00 (I’d like to recommend that all posts list purchase price). Mild strawberry flavors fail to deliver any interesting finish. Acid structure–for me, a fundamental necessity in a rose–is noticeably absent here. Flabby, like the bourgeoisie capitalist pigdogs who seek to oppress the working class. The best I can say is that it is dry and, well, innocuous. Oh, wait, it does have a screwtop, making it equally deployable in either a land environment such as the T-72 Battle Tank, or in the cockpit during emergency procedures (although I advise a long straw if wearing a helmet).

Although banished to fire duty in northern Florida, we have also managed to procure a Pinko Cotes du Rhone, “Les Rastellains” 2007, $10.00; review shall be forthcoming.

–Halperin

By god, I think summer’s coming: with the help of Garagistes Kate, George and Hal, I just bottled a rosé bled from our merlot this past fall.

Rosé is almost always made from red grapes, but instead of crushing and then letting the juice and skins ferment together, the goo is sent to the press lickety-split before fermentation is even cleared for take-off. Since all the color in a red wine is got from the grape skins, you can play with how deep a shade of pink you get by leaving the juice in contact with the skins for a longer or shorter time.

In our case, I “bled” (or to use the French winemaking term, made a “seignée” from) the merlot tank about 4 days after we crushed. My hair-brained idea was to increase the proportion of juice to skins in what was left, potentially coaxing more flavor out of what’s typically been a bland merlot. The stuff I siphoned out (about 10 gallons) I made into a rosé.

Now, because I was (ahem) making it up as I went along, this one probably stayed a little too long on the skins. The result is a darker, redder wine than a typical rosé, but on the plus side, it’s also correspondingly more lusty and flavorful.

One odd thing about this ruby vroom is that it took for-friggin’-ever to ferment. That’s in part because there wasn’t a lot of mass to preserve temperature, but whatever the reason, the yeasts (a strain sensuously named “71B“) took nearly 2 months to window shop through the sugar.

And in fact, the penny-pinching bastards didn’t actually complete the sale, so this rose’s a little on the off-dry side: about 1/2% or so residual sugar, which isn’t Sauternes-sweet but it isn’t Chablis-dry either.

But ladies and gentlemen, I ask you: what are we looking for in a rosé, anyway? Layers of complexity and an heirloom you can sip with your grandkids a quarter century from now? No, the time to live is now, on a hot summer afternoon, lying on the deck with your lovely and incidentally clothed significant other. A bouquet of rosé — served icy-cold to dial back the sweetness to a lush ripeness — is just the thing to get that party started.

Good god, people. Take me to the bridge!

Just before Garagiste Mike and I arrived in Las Vegas for the NAB (National Association of Broadcasters) convention last week, actor Tim Robbins shot the moon in his keynote address, earning a press blackout and a “controversial” label on his remarks. The only controversy, of course, is that what he said about the state of broadcasting was controversial.

Enough is enough… Now is the time to move away from our lesser selves. Now is the time to stop making money on the misfortunes of others and the prurient and salacious desires of the public.

Amazingly, his speech seemed resonate across the political spectrum. As one Chicago conservative wrote in the comments below the original link in Advertising Age,

Hard to believe I agree with anything Tim Robbins or his odious partner has ever said. However, his speech was a 10 ring bulls-eye with which I fully agree and wholeheartedly support. I always saw him as Crash (Costner) did - “Meat.” But on this particular occaision I applaud his opinion efforts with[out] ambiguity or qualification. Well done Mr. Robbins - try and keep it up.

There’s some hope yet. Well worth the six minutes of your life it will take to watch the highlights here.