Restaurant Widow

Think You're Ready to be a Sommelier?

A few of you might know that Husband is in the midst of attaining his Master Sommelier certification.  He has notebooks full of notes, stacks and stacks of wine books, and about 10,000 notecards.  Every so often, I'll pick up a handfull of notecards and start quizzing him.  And laughing at myself in the process.  There have been a few times when, upon hearing about his studies, people have very flippantly said "yeah, I've been thinking about doing that," so we thought we'd post a few questions Husband uses to test himself.  Not trying to show off or anything, but there's a reason there is only one Master Sommelier in Columbus (and he doesn't work at a restaurant, but he is probably influencing the wine you drink, nonetheless) and it takes a lot of hard work to get to the point where you can list every single appelation in Burgundy (there are over 500).

See how many you can answer without Google.  Be honest, and then Google, and learn something.  I'd love to see how many my cork dork friends and readers can answer!!  I will post the answers on Thursday.

1.  What is the main grape of Cacc'e Mmitte di Lucera?
2.  What region's grape bin is known as a Gonc and how many litres of juice does it hold?
3.  What is the main grape of Bull's Blood of Eger?
4. What AOC of Alsace utilizes Savagnin Rose and what is the local name for this grape?
5.  What are the two red wine-only appellations of the northern Rhone?
6. What AVA is shared by Texas and New Mexico?
7.  Which German wine region produces some of its "German" wine from grapes that grow in France?
8. Which Portuguese region utilizes the nearly extinct Ramisco grape?
9. Australia's Shoalhaven Coast and Hastings River specialize in what French-hybrid grape?
10.  What is the primary indigenous white grape of Lebanon?

Have fun!

Guest Author Husband Takes on the Task of Selecting Wine in a Restaurant

"98 percent of pairing food and wine is protecting the food and the wine from each other.”   -Craig Shelton

What to order…
No single part of a dining experience has the potential to be as frustrating, intimidating and discouraging as navigating a wine list.  Various labels, producers and vintages can be difficult to sort through. Add wine magazines, scores, and restaurant mark-ups to the picture and it can become downright maddening…but it need not be. A few simple guidelines can help.

Having worked in the restaurant biz for a number of years now, Wife and I have observed a strange phenomenon. A table will be seated and one gentleman, let’s call him John Attorney (he could just as easily be John Physician, John Accountant or John Salesman - and even, yes, Jane or Johnny Steakhouse Waiter), will grab the wine list right away. Without even looking at the food menu, he’ll order a bottle of Cabernet.  This is akin to ordering a bottle of orange juice for the table when your friend may have a tube of toothpaste for dinner.  I realize it’s Oenologically Correct to say “drink what you like with what you like” and if that works for you, great! Continue to blissfully enjoy your 2001 Chateau Overoak Cabernet with Ceviche. Cheers!

If you have an interest in food and wine, how they play together, and how to bring out the best in both, remember…

Avoid wines with a lot of anything…except acidity.  Wine is first and foremost a beverage.  Its primary purpose is to cleanse and refresh the palate; to clear the way for the next bite of food. This refreshment is provided by the wines acidity. When deciding between two wines, err on the side of caution and choose the lighter, crisper of the two. The addition of a little salt or lemon to the dish will help to tame the acidity if it’s a little high.

With the exception of acidity, the other components of the wine should play as modest a part as possible. A little sugar or tannin in a wine gives mouthfeel and texture, in an excess they coat the palate and dumb down the flavors of all but richest food. Subtle use of oak can add creamy texture and spice to a wine. Heavy oak will persist on the palate and overshadow all but the richest of foods.  In addition, the bitter and astringent character of oak and tannin can be exacerbated by a bad balance of salt/savory.

Over the years, alcohol levels in wine have continued to rise and rise.  This is a consequence of improved viticultural practices and a response to changing tastes.  Alcohol is a necessary part of wine. It provides texture, body and weight and acts to balance the wine's bitter and acidic components. At high levels it tends to numb and tire the palate.  It’s also a nightmare when it comes to the heat of chili peppers…a match born in the pits of Hades.    

All of these components (alcohol, tannin, oak) contribute to a balanced wine, but any one of them in excess can present problems when faced with a wide range of foods.

Certain grapes generally play better with food than others.  Like friends or dinnermates, certain grapes tend to dominate the conversation and steal the show.  Your big, boisterous uncle Don might be right at home with his pals in a cigar-smoke filled steak house, gulping Scotch and telling dirty jokes, but everywhere else his lack of subtlety overpowers others and seems out of place.

Big, boisterous wines are no different.  Napa Cab and Barossa (Australian) Shiraz are right at home with a grilled Porterhouse.   With a delicate roasted pheasant, the Cab and Shiraz would slaughter the bird anew. However, even a humble red Burgundy would allow the bird to shine through while accenting its earthy flavors.  That same red Burgundy would also be at home with a simple roast chicken, a plate of charcuterie or a fuller flavored fish…can’t say the same for the Cab and Shiraz. 

In general, food-friendly white grapes include: Riesling, Chenin Blanc, Albarino, Gruner Veltliner, Pinot Blanc and Sauvignon Blanc.
In general, food-friendly red grapes include: Gamay, Grenache, Pinot Noir, Dolcetto, Barbera, Sangiovese.

Certain styles of wine generally play better with food than others.  Global influences are continuing their steady inundation of the American dining consciousness.  Even carnivore palaces like Morton’s have chutneys and sashimis dotting their menus. These international influences often bring intense sweetness, spiciness and saltiness to the plate.  These intense flavors and seasonings can have nasty interactions with today’s oaky, tannic, and high alcohol wines.  A few styles of wine consistently play well with a wide range of foods.  They include:

Sparkling wines: Crisp acidity provides refreshment, low alcohol allows for pairing with spicy food
Rosé:  Bright berry flavors and crisp acidity and low alcoholmake for a good match with summer veggies and lighter Asian dishes
Off-dry Whites: Slightly sweet Riesling, Gewurztraminer and Pinot Blanc tame the fire of chilies, act as a perfect foil to fried foods and pair wonderfully with a wide range of cheeses
Light, Spicy Reds:  Cotes-du-Rhone, simple Sangiovese, Montepulciano, Beaujolais and Tempranillo can bridge the gap between rich seafoods and lighter meats. 

Certain countries and regions wines play better with food than others.  When “wine people” speak of new world wines, they are referring to those of North and South America, Australia, New Zealand and, for the most part, Spain.   For the best odds in food and wine…avoid these wines of these countries. This generalization is sure to get more than a few knickers in a bunch, but allow me to explain:  These countries are grouped together as “New World” for a reason.  Their climates tend to be warmer and their oak use more flagrant.  The warmer climate translates to more palate-coating alcohol and less palate-refreshing acidity in the finished wines.  The flagrant use of oak leads to, well, oakier wines. Again, nothing wrong with these wines.  But they tend to dominate the conversation and keep others from speaking as clearly. 

Countries and regions that generally produce food-friendly wines include:

Austria: most whites and reds
Germany: For whites stick to those labeled Halbtrocken, Kabinett and Spatlese   
France:
Whites by region - Alsace: Riesling, Pinot Blanc, Gewurztraminer - Avoid expensive bottles; they usually have more alcohol and sugar
Loire Valley: Sauvignon Blanc from Sancerre, Quincy and Menetou-Salon)
Chenin Blanc from Vouvray and Savennieres
Burgundy: Stick to the less-famous areas like Chablis and Macon.  Wines labeled as Bourgogne Blanc can be a good value.
Savoie: Less-common. Dry minerally whites made from Jacquere
Reds by region - Loire Valley: Cabernet Franc from Chinon or Bourgeuil
Burgundy: Stick to less-famous areas like Givry, Mercurey or Marsannay
Wines labeled as Bourgogne Rouge can be a good value
Rhone Valley: Specifically Cotes du Rhone
Beaujolais: Stick to wine labeled either Beaujolais-Village
Top wines labeled by their Cru name (ie. Morgon, Fleuire)
Rosé by region - Rhone Valley: Cotes-du-Rhone and Costieres de Nimes can be great values
Provence roses are amongst the best. Avoid expensive rosés from Bandol or Tavel
Loire Valley: Sancerre Rose from Pinot Noir can be superb (and pricey).
Italy:
Whites by region: Friuli/Alto Adige: Crisp whites, Pinot Grigios generally innocuous
Umbria: Orvieto and other Grechetto-based blends
Campania: Zesty whites from Greco, Fiano and Falanghina
Reds by region:  Abruzzo: reds based on Montepulciano
Piedmont: Barbera, Dolcetto and Nebbiolo - Avoid expensive Barbera, they’re often heavily oaked
Le Marches (Rosso Cornero and Piceno)
Tuscany (Morellino)
Campania (Aglianico, Piedirosso and Negroamaro)
Sparkling: Piedmont (Moscato d’Asti)

      Next installment: You’ve ordered a bottle…now what

Note: if you would like to print this in a card-shaped format which you can fold and carry with you, click here:  Download restaurant_widow_wine_ordering.doc

Let's Talk About Your New Favorite Summer Wine

Can anyone believe the week of beautiful weather we are having?  I like to write things like that every now and again so that in the future I can read through my archives and recall the ghost of weather past.  It was so nice on Sunday Husband and I had our inaugural dinner on the deck, and when it came time to choose a wine later at Spagio Cellars, this bottle of Alvarinho was like a beacon of the coming summer.  If a wine could be the very essence of summer, it would be Albariño (Alvarinho) (all-buh-REEN-yo). 

Once thought to be a derivative of Riesling, the name comes from "alba" meaning white, and "rino" meaning from the Rhine; the white grape from the Rhine.  Grown primarily in the Rias Baixas  (Rhee-hass BUY-hass) region of Spain (in the Northwest) and across the Minho river in Portugal, where the varietal is known as Alvarinho.  Albariños typically have floral and citrus aromas, and are characterized by their "laser sharp acidity," says Husband.  This growing region is cool, wet and verdant, which helps the wine retain its acidity and keep the wine rather low in alcohol. 

Albariño is also used to blend with other grapes in Portugal's Vinho Verde, a light, crisp, and frequently slightly effervescent summer quaffer.  Albariños and Vinho Verde are usually consumed shortly after bottling.

Albariño is produced in coastal regions, and the cuisine provides the perfect match; Albariño's crisp lightness makes it a fantastic partner with shellfish, particularly scallops.

The bottle above is Dorado Alvarinho from Portugal, here's what Husband has to say about it, in cork dork speak:

"Marcial Dorado set out to make Spain's finest Albarino.  However, the old river-side terraced vines he needed couldn't be found in Spain.  He was able to find them across the river in Portugal's Melgaco region.  The fruit is sourced from a 70-year old Alvarihno vineyard.  All fruit is hand-sorted, the entire winery is gravity fed.  Time on the lees gives a feeling of roundness and fat to the palate.  I've had them up to 5 years old...i would guess they could drink well for up to 10 years."

There is a small amount of Albariño produced in the United States - Haven's makes a nice one, fleshy and acidic.  This is a wine which can be hard to find, but it should be demanded for patio dining - the acidity makes it refreshing on hot summer days - with or without food - and its crisp fruitiness makes it a winner with even the most hardened overoaked California Chardonnay fan.

Locally, you can find Albariño at Spagio Cellars, the Anderson's, Weiland's, the Burgundy Room, and other good wine stores and restaurants.  Try some today.  Cheers!

Special thanks to Husband for assisting me with this piece.

Latte at Home, no Fancy Equipment Required

This experiment was born from my frequent fits of incredulity over the amount of money Husband and I spend in coffee shops.  I'm not sure I can begin to calculate the gallons of espresso we consume in a month, but the price tag would buy us a cream of the crop at-home espresso machine in about 2-3 months.  It matters not that we have a perfectly fine coffee maker at home, we still spend around $10 a day for coffee (I can't imagine the sounds coming from my mother's mouth!) 

It occurred to me a few weeks ago, while re-reading It Must Have Been Something I Ate; there is a chapter on Hot Chocolate, and Steingarten gives a famous recipe for the best hot chocolate in the world (no, I'm not giving it here, go out and read it for yourself).  Part of the recipe involves blending the mixture with an immersion (aka stick) blender for a few minutes.  I chewed this over for a few weeks - could you froth milk with a simple stick blender? and finally tried it the other day - guess what?  It frothed!  I wouldn't call this a cappuccino-worthy froth, but it works wonders to replace my morning breakfast latte.  Okay, technically, this is a cafe au lait, as it is made with coffee and not espresso, but I used the French press, which produces a more espresso-like concoction than the typical thin coffee-maker brew.

At Home Latte for 2

Prepare coffee in a French press: I use 7 tbsp beans - grind to a coarse grind - for my 6 cup press, pour in almost-boiling water and allow to steep for 5 minutes before plunging.  While the coffee is steeping, get on with the milk: in a small but deep sauce pan, heat any type of milk (I used 2%) over medium heat.  When it is about 120 degrees (at this point, you should be able to put your finger in for a second), reduce the heat to low and blend with a stick blender for 3 minutes; let sit for one minute and then spoon the frothy milk into the desired drinking vessel.  Pour the coffee over.  At this point, you can add a sugar cube and a few drops of vanilla extract, if you like.  This is my favorite breakfast and pre-work pick-me-up.

The Classic Martini

I always marvel at people who can guzzle martini after martini (and remain lucid) - I'm not saying I'm jealous, it's just that if I had four Grey Goose martinis up with olives before dinner, my date would have to start checking my vital signs.  Like many classics in our post modern lives, the martini has fallen victim to all sorts of absurdities - sugared rims, chocolate sauce and Apple Pucker, just to name a few.  Perhaps the first travesty to befall this divine cocktail was the sudden, universal hatred of vermouth which took place sometime in the nineties.  All at once, everyone wanted their martinis dry, dry, dry.  I think this might be because it takes a certain amount of machismo to drink straight vodka (especially if you aren't picky about it, and it comes from a plastic bottle somewhere out of sight from your barstool), and this fit with the fat-cat steakhouse resurgence which happened around the same time.  At least in the Midwest.

But why does everyone hate vermouth so much?  Is it because we only have Martini & Rossi?  At the Christmas party I hosted recently, I begged a few snobbish friends of mine (oh, now, don't get offended, you'd be absolutely livid if I called you pedestrian) to try a favorite of mine, Vya vermouth.  I discovered this vermouth, or rather was introduced to it, a few years ago at the Refectory, and I have loved it ever since.  Sadly, because no one else seems to share my passion, you can't really find it in any other restaurants (but it can be purchased locally at Weilands, for around $22).  After a short fight in which yours truly was the sound victor, some friends finally chugged down a little Vya on the rocks.  And I was vindicated.  It really is delicious.  Even without the booze.

So what exactly is vermouth?  Well, it's basically a spiced wine aperitif (to be consumed before dinner, to perk up the appetite) - in truth, Lillet is a similar concoction, which is why I am particularly fond of mixing that with vodka, as well.  Americans seem strangely resistant to the aperitif concept, which might be another notch in the classic martini's noose.  I'm constantly amazed to wait on tables who go straight into cabernet.  I can't fathom sitting down to dinner and drinking cab on an empty stomach.  You might as well lick leather.  But I digress. 

And so, I beg of you, dear friends and readers, help me bring back the classic martini.  Two parts gin or vodka (something decent, please, really), and one part (yes, one whole part) vermouth - try a good one.  You'll find it takes the edge off the alcoholic bite - it also reduces the amount of alcohol in your cocktail, so that you might more effectively make it through that working dinner.  If you're having it with gin, the herbs used to spice up the vermouth will blend nicely with the similar herbs used to give gin its character (especially if you're having something especially herbaceous, such as Bombay Sapphire, or my all-time favorite, Citadelle).

Everyone has their own opinion about how their martini should be created: I am partial to gin, vigorous shaking, the kind which leaves a metal shaker covered in a thin layer of frost, pouring into a nice traditional glass (so styled to prevent the un-mixing of the liquor and the vermouth; without vermouth, there's no reason for the unwieldy, but undeniably sexy, martini glass); notice the flecks of ice floating on top, and the addition of three olives.  I put only one in the picture, because it's more aesthetically pleasing, but I like three - one for instant gratification, one halfway through the cocktail, and one very gin-soaked treat at the end.

Cheers!

Contributing Writer Husband on Beaujolais Nouveau

Well, it is November 16th, and it's the third Thursday in November.  That means it's Beaujolais Nouveau (heretofore referred to as BN) time.  Aren't you excited?  While discussing this last night over dinner at Alana's (yes, I made every attempt to stick to my pyramid guidelines,), I asked Husband if he would like to share his BN opinions with my readers.  Of course he would!  Don't come crying to me if BN day is your favorite wine day of the year.  I will forward your complains to Husband.  As a side note, BN is a traditional accompaniment to Thanksgiving dinner.  If you would like to read other thoughts on what to drink on Turkey Day, please stop by your local newsstand tomorrow and pick up next week's issue of Business First Columbus and flip to the Lifestyles section.  Yours truly has a blurb on this subject.

And so, without further ado:

Le Beaujolais Nouveau est arrivé…quand va t'il partie?
For the past for few weeks wine shops and restaurants around the world have heralded the arrival of Beaujolais Nouveau.  With much hoopla and gaudy-colored fanfare, this wine - the northern hemisphere’s first of the vintage - arrives on shelves and tables.  Restaurants and retailers stack cases of this purple punch…but what is the flower-labeled phenom all about? 
The Beaujolais region and its vines lie in the area just north of France’s culinary center of Lyons.  Despite flanking the epicenter of serious cuisine, Beaujolais is a decidedly un-serious.  Here, the humble Gamay grape is king and carbonic maceration* accents the grape's naturally fruity character.  The result is a fruit driven wine of great charm and glee…the sort of wine “you can drink under the shower.”  But what about this Noveau stuff?
Nouveau started innocently enough.  Imagine a 19^th century French farm…it’s late fall and the last of the crops have finally been harvested. The farmer and farm-hands sit down for a celebratory meal.  To slake their thirst they drew off jugs of wine from the still-fermenting vats.  The cloudy, bubbly and slightly sweet “wine” was low in alcohol and full of cheer.  Their hard work was celebrated with mugs of the “new” Beaujolais.  This exuberant brew and the cheer surrounding it soon spread and the citizens of Paris were soon clamoring for the newest wine possible.  In the 1930’s, the government stepped in and set the earliest date at which this wine could be considered wine.  In 1985, the government set the official release date as the third Thursday of November.   This was an effort to protect the “integrity” of nouveau, but in reality it set the minimum boundary for how bad the wines can be. 
Let’s be frank, the grapes for this wine were harvested between the middle of September and the middle of October.  They undergo lightning-fast vinification, brutal filtering and fining, slamming into a bottle and are shipped around the world…all in about six weeks.  There is no possible way that this “wine” can be anything better than gulpable.  More often than not they are course, slightly sweet and a little volatile with a strong character of bubblegum. But, who cares?  People drink it and people love it…what’s the harm?  Because Beaujolais does better and deserves better.
Nestled among the seas of uninteresting wines are hundreds of honest people make honest wines.  These are inexpensive, delicious wines with none of the sickening, cloying vapidness of the Nouveau.  They are fruity, fresh and above all else, drinkable.  But there is also a hierarchy within Beaujolais. Amongst the seas of vineyards are 10 ten regions that are considered unique.  These ten Crus, or growths, represent the finest that Beaujolais has to offer.  They all possess mind-altering levels of fleshy fruit and richness with each Cru adding its own unique flavor or character.  Fleurie offers lightness and a fresh floral character, Morgon offers depth and richness and Moulin-a-Vent complexity balance and, in the best examples, age-ability.  All of this and they rarely sell for more than $20. 
2005 was a banner year for Beaujolais and most of them have only recently hit the market.  So do yourself a favor, pass on the Nouveau this year and go for the real McCoy.  They may cost you a couple of extra bucks, but the quality will more than make-up for it.

-2005 Domain de Vissoux Beaujolais-Villages “Pierre Chermette” $15.99 unfiltered, unfined, un-chaptalized and au naturel.  Striking intense and blue-purple. The nose is pure, but discrete; the palate expresses itself fully, with both vivacity and a beautiful persistence of ripe fruit.
2005 Georges Dubouef…the 2005s from Dubouef are remarkable…some standouts $11.99-$24.99 
- 2005 Fleurie “Domaine des Quarte Vents”
- 2005 Moulin-a-Vent “Prestige”
- 2005 Regnie “Domaine des Chaponnieres”
- 2005 Morgon “Domaine Jean Descombes” (particularly fine)
- 2005 Brouilly “Domaine Combillaty”
- 2005 Beaujolais-Villages “Chateau de Varennes”
-2004 Nicols Potel Fleurie “Vieille Vignes” $22.99 Some earlier inconsistencies in early vintages seem to have been ironed out.  The 2004 is exuberantly floral with sleek purple/blue fruit and refreshing acidity.  Top notch.
-2004 Jean-Claude Lapalu Brouilly “Cuvee Vieille Vignes” $22.99 Unusual and unique Beaujolais.  Old vines and low-yields make for wines of incredible concentration and suave complexity.  Difficult to find, but well worth the search. 

*In the carbonic maceration process, whole, uncrushed grapes are placed into a sealed fermenter.  The weight of the grapes begins to crush the grapes below; intracellular fermentation begins and, in the absence of oxygen, color and flavor is extracted without developing harsh tannin.  The lid is lifted and a quick fermentation follows.  This process creates a bright, fruity wine whose aromas are typically accented with a crayon-bubble gum smell (no joke) which is a tell tale sign of wines produced in this manner.

Dogfish Head Chateau Jiahu

I'm a sucker for slick packaging.  It is nearly impossible for me to pass up something I think will be good if it is packaged artfully.  This is why, when passing Grapes of Mirth at the North Market the other day, I zeroed in on this fabulous bottle from about 30 paces away.  I'm also a sucker for great beer, so this was a natural.  And, it came with a cool story to boot. 

Dogfish Head Craft Brewery has something of a history of updating ancient classics, and when I say that, I really mean it.  They first produced the monster Midas Touch Golden Elixir, based upon scientific analysis of drinking vessels found in King Midas' tomb.  That beer boasts a whopping 300 calories per 12 ounce serving, along with a 9% alcohol content (most typical beers are somewhere around 150 calories and 4% alcohol).  That is why it is advisable to use caution when drinking Dogfish Head beers; they have a tendency to go straight to your head.

The newest creation, or shall I say re-creation, from Dogfish Head comes in the form of Chateau Jaihu.  In the Henan province of Northern China lies Jaihu.  Pottery found there was analyzed and revealed to have been used for a fermented beverage containing rice, fruit and honey more than 9,000 years ago.  Painstaking analysis has revealed much of the chemical content of the original beverage, and it has been closely recreated using a mixture of rice and barley malt, along with flowers, honey and hawthorn; then fermented with Muscat grapes (used to make very sweet dessert wines).  The result is a light, very sweet and extremely winey drink.  Although no alcohol content is listed (and, thankfully, no calories, either), I imagine it is probably in line with other Dogfish brews, somewhere around 8-9%.  The "beer" tastes amazingly light, considering its density (you will notice from the picture there's no seeing through), and is only lightly carbonated.  I could never drink the entire 750ml bottle, but it would make a nice pre-dinner quaff (taken in small doses so as not to fill up!).

Dogfish Head Chateau Jaihu can be found at Grapes of Mirth in the North Market for $8 a 750ml bottle.  Other good chances of finding it are the Anderson's General Store in Dublin or Weiland's Gourmet Market, although I couldn't say for sure.  Production is limited so buy it fast!

Special (Boozy) Delivery!

  Something very exciting came from the FedEx man today!!  I am the proud owner of one of the last 18 bottles of Hangar One's Wasabi Infused Vodka and a bottle of Fraser River Raspberry Vodka.  Cocktail recipes are soon to follow, I promise.  I guess I'm getting old because Mr. FedEx didn't card me like he was supposed to.  Ah, well, at least I'm mature enough to appreciate the best vodka in America.  Related: you can read my account of my trip to the Hangar One distillery here.

A Little Vino, from Husband

This is one of our favorite wines, and here's Husband to tell you about it (as usual, words with an asterisk are defined at the end):

2003 Lavradores de Feitoria Tres Bagos

For centuries, the fame of Portugal's Douro Valley has rested squarely upon the shoulders of its sweet fortified wine, Port.  Here, under the raging Portuguese sun on terraced Schistous* slopes, grapes reach incredible ripeness.  In the the finest examples, the wines seem to exude the very warmth and stony soils from which they came.  For all intents and purposes, this should be prime territory for dry red wines as well.  Sadly, they have lagged behind in quality and have stayed off the radar of most wine drinkers.  And for good reason, the few wines that have made it to the market are often shy on fruit, over rustic and short on charm.

The Lavradores de Feitoria was started in 2000 with the help of Dirk Niepoort of the port house Niepoort.  This is a collective of 15 quality-minded growers spread throughout the Douro Valley.  Each year, they produce a blend which represents a cross section of the three regions, or Bagos*, of the Douro Valley.  It's a typical Douro blend; primarily Touriga Nacional with bits of Touriga Franca, Tinta Barroca and Tinta Roriz*.

The question inevitably arises, "Does it taste like dry port?"  We, yes and no.  The undeniable stamp of the soil and grape are there.  It has Touriga Nacional's vibrant black raspberry, purple flower, herbal scents and flavor-enhancing acidity and broad-hewn structure.  There is a pervasive stony minerality typical of schist-grown wines.  There's also an uncanny balance - not the fearsome and fiery interplay of alcohol, tannin and extract which carries port through decades of life, but the careful interplay of fruit, tannin, richness and minerality which makes for an infinitely drinkable wine.  It's packed with black raspberry, roasted fruit, licorice and stony notes.   The palate is both packed with dense, brooding fruit and kept weightless by bright, fresh fruit and acidity.

2003 Lavradores de Feitoria Tres Bagos, $15.99 retail (Ohio), an Eric Solomon/European Cellars selection

Glossary

Bagos (Locations):  here, they are Baixo Corgo, which is relatively cool and wet, the Cima Corgo, warm and dry with many terraced vineyards, and the Douro Superior, mostly arid and dry.

Schist:  Not so much a soil as a soil type - a metamorphic rock in the same family as slat which fractures easily.  The often deep fractures allow for extensive rood penetration and protections from drought.

Touriga Nacional:  Classic red wine grape used for still and port wine production.  Extensively grown in the Douro and Dao regions of Portugal and other hot climates worldwide.  Growth is vigorous, yet yields are low with good sugar levels.  It is the premier grape for port.

Touriga Franca:  Also know as Touriga Francesca.  A natural cross between Touriga Nacional and another unknown local variety.  Ripens early with very tight clusters rich in phenols (an acidic compound with contributes to the aroma of the wine).

Tinta Barroca:  Native red wine variety grown in the Douro region, mostly used in wine or port blends because of its high alcohol and low acid.  Early ripening, this variety does best in cooler climates with high elevation.

Tinta Roriz:  Another name for the Tempranillo grape of Spain.

Hang Me Out to Dry - Hangar One Tasting Room

Yes, Chubby was exactly right.  The picture was Buddha's Hand Citron being soaked in Vodka at Hangar One.

I have this little rule about drinking during the daytime - it's okay if it's after 12:01pm.  I have always followed this rule with the exception of one ill-advised but delightfully fun brunch that started at a friend's house, and then moved to a restaurant where we had dessert, followed by dinner.  See what happens when you start drinking too early?  Calories.

Fortunately, we didn't make the trip over the bridge from San Francisco to Almeda until 1:23pm. 

I think I might have mentioned before that I feel partly responsible for getting Hangar One into Ohio (just give me this one thing, okay?), and their tasting room was the one thing I really wanted to experience whilst in San Francisco.  What a great experience - well, until these two old ladies sidled up next to us being loud and talking about how they only liked plain vodka and nothing else.  No Eau de Vie, no nothing.  Explain it to me.  If you live out there or are visiting, I highly recommend the trip; it really doesn't take more than an hour to experience the whole thing.  We were there on a Sunday, so they weren't working in the distillery, and we got to walk around and be nosy.  As you can see from the picture below, it's like Willa Wonka's factory for grownups:

One funny thing that happened while I was there, taking notes, is that the man pouring asked me if I was a reporter or a blogger; it's funny because San Francisco has such a huge food blogging community that he asked right away.  There are hardly any food bloggers in Columbus  (Here are the only other 2 I know of:  Rosie and Jason)

Please read the extended post for all the spiked and juicy details . . .

Info:  Hangar Vodka/St. George's Distillery Tasting Room, 2601 Monarch St, Alameda, California (about a 30 minute drive from San Francisco)  510.769.1601.  The tasting was $10 and included the glass, which I of course left there.