I just got back from a trip to Rome with a bitter taste in my mouth. No, it wasn’t a bad trip or anything like that. It’s just that amazing bitter aftertaste in so many Italian wines both red and white. Is there any country that does bitter better than the land of Campari and coffee? Venezuala, the birthplace of Angustora bitters, might run a distant second but they don’t exactly produce a whole lot of wine.

It got me thinking; if bitter is a flavor so associated with Italy and their wines, what flavors are characteristic of other classic wine producing countries? Since I think in charts, the Venn diagram above is the result of this line of thought and is very loosely based on the Greek classical elements of earth, air, fire and water. In a similar way, it’s an archaic way of thinking about flavors but flavor chemistry still doesn’t seem too advanced. Otherwise artificial strawberry Jello would seem more convincing!

Bitter – Italy
Not all Italian wines have a bitter nuances but a remarkable number do. Perhaps more remarkable is that the bitterness is controlled remarkably well. Bitterness comes from the stems, seeds and skins where tannins also come from, so it seems that it would also be accompanied by some astringency. But this is not the case; either the bitterness is characteristic of the grape variety used, in the wine making process or a little of both. I would tend to think it’s a little of both as the Italians really seem to have bitter perfected. One standout on the trip was a 2004 Sergio Mottura “Muffo” produced with gotrytized Grechetto grapes, it was very Sauternes-like but with apricot, peach and orange peel flavors. But the amazing and wonderfully unusual part was the very long, bitter orange finish - who needs a Campari after this wine?!

Oxidized – Spain
At the Wines from Spain convention last month in London, I attended a tasting seminar “What Place is there for Tradition in the Modern Spanish Wine World?” The wines selected included an 1981 Lopez de Heredia Gran Reserva Blanco and 3 Sherries. There really wasn’t any conclusion about the role of tradition today but there was a definite consensus that tradition in Spain means oxidation. Two Hidalgo Manzanillas were compared to illustrate this: the fresher cleaner style La Gitana is made for the contemporary palate but would be considered much too young to previous generations of Sherry drinkers; they would have preferred the Pastrana, a Manzanilla Pasada that has some age and oxidation on it. Lopez de Heredia was presented as a link to the history of Spanish winemaking with their oxidative style earning the respect of enthusiasts if not exactly the contemporary palate.

Mineral – Germany
Germany isn’t the only country with mineral qualities in their wine (that’s why it’s a Venn diagram with overlaps people!) but slatey steely Riesling seems to make it a hub of minerality.

Earthy – France
Terroir is French for soil. Even if you believe that terrior is a bunch of nonsense, it’s difficult to deny the soft earthy pleasures of many traditional French wines. Besides, what country has ever has really ever embraced “poopy” as a positive flavor description? Viva la France!

Switzerland fits neatly in the center as a neutral zone, hygenically canceled out by the overlaps. Yes, how convenient! I base this not so much on my limited experience with Swiss wines but on three factors: 1. Switzerland’s tradition of neutrality; 2. I have an uncle who claims Swiss whites taste like rain; 3. my son’s godfather is Swiss and a teetotaler.

In full disclosure, I have to say that I’m a old world kind of guy and thank Bacchus for mineral, earthy, oxidixed and bitter flavors. Fruit is nice but funk gives wine soul.

This article appeared in the June 2007 edition of Connections Magazine (Ireland)

People who know nothing about wine – no, not you, I’m talking about people who think Chardonnay is a brand name – somehow know enough to say “I like a dry wine” even if they don’t. Yes, the underlying insecurities that seem to cluster around wine will cause otherwise trustworthy people to lie. My own mother - whose favorite wine is White Zinfandel (ouch! God knows I tried) – will insist on her preference for dry wine even though each sip of White Zin betrays it. Is sweet wine really that embarrassing? Will drinking it get you banished from polite society?

Funny enough, the same mysterious forces have been conspiring against oaked wines. Walk into any wine shop and you’ll see quite a few labels boasting “unoaked” – fully 10% of all white wines in Oddbins here in the UK now make such a claim. Some people even believe that they’re allergic to oak in wine although it hasn’t been identified as an allergen by the medical community. Is oak in wine really that bad? Has it suddenly become naff?

If it has, someone forgot to tell the fine wine community. Practically all of the world’s finest red wines and many of its whites are nearly as dependent on oak as they are grapes. This centuries old relationship shows no sign of slowing down. Still, at the lower end of the price spectrum clumsily oaked Chardonnay, the buttery vanilla toffee wines that were fashionable in in the 80’s and 90’s now seem as in style as a mullet haircut. Since Chardonnay is sometimes considered the ultimate oak vehicle, the backlash against it in favor of racier grapes varieties such as Albariño, Riesling and Pinot Grigio hasn’t helped. Neither has the real wine movement which emphasizes organic farming and minimal intervention winemaking.

Although oak is mainly associated with the flavours they impart upon a wine, it has been a storage and shipping container for thousands of years. The Celts are generally credited with coming up with a liquid-tight barrel in 300 BC, which is know to have been used for wine by at least the 2nd century BC. It’s easy to see how they replaced terra-cotta amphorae, being more durable and easily rolled. The flavours imparted by the barrels were simply a fortuitous by-product, especially if they were oak. Other woods, like cherry and chestnut are still used but the overwhelming favourite is oak.

Somewhere along the way, it was discovered that the heat from flames used to bend the wood to form barrels provided different flavours and other characteristics, depending on how toasted the insides of the barrels became. Barrels are now toasted to order in light, medium or heavy toast. Since toasting acts as a buffer between the wine and the wood, the lighter the toasting, the more the wine will taste more directly of oak and also be highly tannic. Medium toast tends to produce more softer wines with more vanilla notes while heavy toasting really alters the wood producing clove, nutmeg, coffee and – of course – toast flavours.

Different types of oak imparts different flavours as well. Oak for wine barrels come mainly from France and the United States. French oak, with its tight grain and subtle aromatics – especially from Allier, Bourgongne, Nevers and Tronçais – are highly prized by winemakers worldwide. American Oak – as may be expected – is more bold and brash, wider grained and more aromatic. It can often be identified by a coconut aroma, which at high concentrations has been know to produce white wines that can only be described as suntan lotion or Hawaiian Tropic. Surf’s up dude! Still, American oak is an essential part of great wines such as traditional Rioja (white and red) as well as traditional Australian Shiraz (Penfold’s Grange). Interestingly enough, Californian winemakers are fairly mixed when it comes to using American or French oak despite the fact that French oak barriques (barrels) cost over twice as much.

Flavour is not the only thing that barrels contribute to wine, especially since they are virtually flavourless after 2 to 3 uses. Older barrels are either used in conjunction with new barrels to control the flavour influence of oak or on their own for other properties. They naturally clarify and stabilize the wine, soften tannins, improve colour and very gently oxidize the wine. This gentle oxidation occurs by evaporation through the barrel which are topped up often during barrel aging. It also lowers fruitiness, producing more of a soft “old world” style wine than a fruit forward “new world” style wine, regardless if it’s made in Europe, the USA, Australia or Chile.

Given the high cost of barrels and the level that much winemaking is dependent on oak, there has been much use of oak alternatives like oak chips. At 1/20th the price of barrels, they’ve brought luxurious oak to much cheaper wines with some disasterous results. At least in the early days. Now, with micro-oxygenation, a way of simulating the gentle, gradual oxidation that occurs in barrels, as well as with the world’s highest quality oak readily available toasted to order in chip form the distinction isn’t so clear. Traditionalists poo-poo the use of oak chips but modernists champion them for much better control almost regardless of cost savings.

Some highly acclaimed wines use oak chips in California and Australia and as of December 2006 they’re legal to use in the top level appellations in Europe. They’ve been used since 2004 in lower level appellations in France such as Vin de Pays and Vin de Table amidst bitter protests about the “McDonaldization” of wine. The times are changing quickly as France and Italy have lost a great deal of market share to Australia in recent years and are desperate to regain any competitive advantage. It’s still difficult to tell which wines get their oak characteristics from barrels and which from chips as there aren’t any labeling requirements. Indeed, few winemakers will volunteer that they’re making wine with oak chips as they still conjure up little mystique regardless if they’re legal or not.

It’s a little strange to see European governments rushing to legalize oak chips while at the same time so many wines are making a point to show that they’re unoaked. The growing Real Wine movement – epitomised by the movie Mondovino – which emphasizes organic viticulture and minimal manipulations (read: less oak) in the wine making process also seems to be at odds with the legislation. Not to mention the recent popularity of unoaked white wines such as Riesling, Pinot Grigio, Chablis and New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.

The reality is that oak is a useful and welcome part of wine making. So before you jump on the “I like an unoaked wine” bandwagon, remember all of the great wines of the world that are superb expressions of oak, like virtually every fine red wine, Cote d’Or Chardonnay, fine white Bordeaux and traditional Rioja.

* naff [naf] Chiefly British Slang
1. unstylish; lacking taste; inferior.
–verb (used without object)
2. to goof off; fool around (often fol. by around or about).
—Verb phrase
3. naff off go away: used as an exclamation of impatience.
—Related forms
naffness, noun

(definition from Dictionary.com)

A Few Good Oaked White Wines:

To get at the heart of the matter, let’s try some fine often overlooked oaked whites.

Traditional White Rioja

Lopez de Heredia Viña Tondonia Gran Reserva Blanco 1981
One of the world’s finest white wines, often compared to top white Burgundy, it is very traditionally made which means it’s more highly oxidized than most dry white wines. Gold in colour, it’s rich, very smoky, herbal, suprisingly fruity with lightly toasted coconut and perfectly balanced acidity. A real treat and one of the last real bargains in the fine wine world.
$80

Cune Monopole Rioja Blanco 2005
This is a great introduction to traditional white Rioja. It has a nice degree of toasted coconut (from American Oak barrels) but with a fresh lemony acidity.
$13

Dry White Bordeaux

While red Bordeaux gets pretty much all of the press, a fine white Bordeaux can easily steal the show at any dinner party. New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc fans will be surprised at how well the Sauvignon Blanc in these wines take oak.

2005 Moulin des Dames Bergerac Sec
50% Sauvignon Blanc 40% Semillon 10% Muscadelle
This is a very traditionally made Bordeaux-style wine. I have to say Bordeaux-style since Bergerac is not officially in Bordeaux but adjacent to it. Moulin des Dames is one of Bergerac’s finest producers and this wonderful wine, with delicious white peach, subtle oak and spicy finish would compare well with a white Haut Brion.
$22

2005 Tour Leognan
65% Sauvignon Blanc and 35% Sémillon
2nd wine of Chateau Carbonnieux, one of the classified Graves chateaux known for its dry white wines. Don’t let the screw top fool you – this is a serious wine. It’s more obiously Sauvignon Blanc than the Bergerac with a nuanced grassiness amidst the well integrated oak.
$23

Wine Oak Facts:

Cost of Average Oak Barrel: $1,130 for French Oak and $400 for American Oak

Cost of new oak barrels per bottle of wine = $3.89 French $1.32 American

Average cost of grapes per bottle (Napa Valley Chardonnay) = $4.30

Cost of oak chips per bottle: $0.18

Chance that a $5.00 bottle will be aged in all new oak barrels = 0%

Typical percentage of new oak used in 1st growth Bordeaux: 100%

Typical percentage of new oak used in top white Cote d’Or Burgundy: 30%

Typical percentage of new oak used in Dominique Laurent’s red Burgundy: 200% (racked from one new barrel to another new barrel)

Woodchuck: A Winegeek who likes, or has a high tolerance for, a lot of Oak in his or her wine. See Beaver and Termite. (from www.compleatwinegeek.com)

Always eat the cork when drinking an “oaked” wine, as the two woods bring out each other’s flavors. (Advice from Jim Boyce in China)

Oak Monster: An extremely oaked wine (from Gary Vaynerchuk at Wine Library TV)

Enter to Win a New Pull-Taps Corkscrew

A $12 Value! 3 Winners will be Picked!

You can’t get a better corkscrew at any price. Sorry Laguiole!

To enter, please leave a comment regarding your thoughts on oaked wines or cork eating. A simple “oaky doak” or “mmmm corks” will do. 3 winners will be chosen at random Monday, February 11 2008 at 12 noon EST.

Valdespino Coliseo Amontillado VORS Sherry I’ve heard that this wine can split the room in a group of sherry aficionados in fits of impassioned argument. I’m not sure about splitting the room but I know that its ultra concentrated and powerful aroma can actually fill a decent sized room. Perhaps this is why chaos ensues – babies crying, strong men fighting, etc – it’s simply impossible to escape when poured. And it doesn’t finish (my note:∞ - I can still taste it) It’s been both kicked up a notch BAM! and goes to 11. It’s extreme but also extremely delicious Amontillado in all its oxidized nutty gloriousness. Impossibly, it retains its lightness and elegance. It’s not like an Oloroso, people! (calm down Steve) No! All of the disbelievers out of the room! My only complaint is that it makes classics like Gonzales Byass Del Duque seem dilute in comparison. I could see easily see bricking up Fortunado for a cask of it. Amontillado! Amontillado!

2005 Gamay Sans Tra-la-la Domaine de la Garrelière
I don’t know about you, but I don’t like a lot of Tra-la-la in my Gamay. Kind of like Pete Rose used to be with his Aqua Velva. Good Beaujolais (Cru or not) would be my choice if I had to drink the same wine every day for the rest of my life. Why? Because it’s like good bread: delicious, comfortable and reassuringly wonderful. Funny enough this Touraine Gamay was nothing like that. And being from a biodynamic producer, it wasn’t a banana bubble-gum Beaujolais Nouveau either. Instead, it was unusually spicy, robustly cedary and gushing with red fruits, expertly made in perfect balance. Wow! Garrelière is my current favorite producer – their Touraine Chenin and Sauv. Blanc are equally amazing. François and Pascale Plouzeau of Chinon fame run this unique vineyard.

2003 Oremus Mandolas Furmint More than other dry Hungarian Furmints, Mandolas actually tastes like a dry version of Tokaji Aszu (zero puttonyos?). My friend Michael doesn’t get Tokaji Aszu and gets the predicable response “maybe you haven’t had enough puttonyos!” Perhaps he’s had too many and needs to try this puttonyo-free Tokaji. It reminds me a little of a good Savienneres in its structure, spice and deep golden color but is more antiqued, exotic, coconut and dried apricots. Excellent, unusual and very good with baked Halibut.

2004 Mercurey, Vieilles Vignes, Francois Raquillet 2004 was a mixed year in Burgundy and there are plenty of weedy disappointments around but this was not one of them. It’s almost New World in weight but clearly Burgundian in character. Very juicy red fruits – cranberry, red currant – but also earthy with a huge dollop of horseradish mixed in the fall leaves. Neville Sparks at his excellent shop, Wine Etcetera in Midhurst suggested this wine my mother in law’s 70th birthday bash. It was amazing with the roast pheasant and a great deal at £14.95 = $28.00. For what it’s worth, it was also one of the wines blind tasted in last year’s Master of Wine examination. I don’t know of a New World Pinot that could touch it at that price – I would like to think that Oregon (my home state) could but sadly no.

2005 La Spinetta Bricco Quaglia Moscato d’Asti I defy you to find anyone – from non-wine drinker to expert sommelier – that doesn’t like Moscato d’Asti. It’s the kind of wine guaranteed to put a smile on your face. But since its secondary fermentation (where the bubbles come from) occurs in large tanks and not individual bottles like Champagne it probably will never be taken seriously. Still there is something seriously elegant about the Bricco Quaglia. Perhaps because it has finer bubbles and is a little drier than most that reveals its more complex character. It’s definitely more Bill Murray than Adam Sandler.

2006 Vergelegen Sauvignon Blanc was a big surprise. It’s by the most famous and acclaimed South African wine producer but must be produced by the boatload since you’ll find it pretty much everywhere in the UK – every supermarket, everywhere. That’s not usually a recipe for success – think Mouton Cadet – and probably why I was reluctant to try it. But this is an excellent wine. Think New Zealand Sauv. Blanc but with basketload of delicious perfectly ripe fresh figs. People who don’t like the asparagus flavors often in NZ Sauv. Blanc will be happy to find them here replaced by figs. It also has 10% Semillon added ala Bordeaux Blanc. Delicious and an excellent stumper for a “where is this from?” blind tasting.

NV Gilles Azzoni Le Raisin et l’Ange Homage a Robert Vin de Table A truly surprising wine that could make anyone a convert to natural winemaking. We had this wine this fall at the Autour d’un Verre in Paris. It’s an unusual blend of Grenache and Merlot that pretty much goes against everything you were every taught about wine. It’s cloudy (but beautifully garnet in color) and has a slight spritz of carbonation - it’s as if it could go off at any minute but spicy, soft, earthy and delicious.

1990 Drouhin Mazi-Chambertin GC Tasted at last year’s Wine Century Club annual meeting, this was an excellent wine in an excellent year perfectly aged. I don’t know about you, but I don’t have a bunch of 1990 Burgundy in my cellar so it was a real treat. In the immortal words of Jeff Grossman: “ gorgeous, red fruit and velvet, the components of the wine are all in balance, an example of why folks buy Burgundy, have I said “gorgeous” yet? …Excellent, Excellent, Excellent

2005 Bentalda Bizkaiko Txakolina “Gorrondona“ Another superb wine served at the Century club meeting by Chris “King of the Veeks” Wilford. The only other red Txakoi (the tx is pronounced “ch”) I’ve ever had was on a trip to Basque country but wasn’t memorable like this one. Dr. Pepper was my (and Elvis’) favorite soft drink as a kid and a very similar set of flavors run through this wine. Yes, it must be the singularly most elegant expression of Dr. Pepper in the world. Grossman again: spicy, herbal nose, lightweight and silky, like a good franc …Excellent

2001 Alois Kracher Scheurebe TBA Wine Century buddy Maj Capps generously shared this amazing dessert wine with me and fellow Centurions Henry Richardson and Tom Finigan last fall in DC. He got it at the vineyard from the great man himself who sadly died on December 4th. The acidity might have been just a little too zippy given the fact that we all had very little food that evening but the tangerine peel, candied lemon and Earl grey tea flavors in this beautiful golden wine were breathtaking. How do you say Scherebe?

I look forward to another interesting year of drinking and hope you enjoy the same.
Cheers,
Steve

“I’ll be pouring some excellent Cab Francs today.”

Whatever happened to “We’re tasting some excellent Cab Francs today?” Everyone seems to be pouring everywhere these days. Am I the only person who thinks that this sounds strange? What would the equivalent be with chocolate chip cookies? “I’ll be placing some excellent chocolate chip cookies today?”

Perhaps it’s the “me” part – I’ll be pouring – that seems odd. It’s a little like when a waiter says “my marzipan is really delicious” or “I’ve got some amazing Chimichangas.” I’m sure you do. Or maybe it’s just that the term pouring seems to imply vast amounts of liquids gushing forth as in “it’s not just raining, it’s pouring!”

Pouring wine rapidly and in huge volumes doesn’t seem to be strange at all on the internet; in fact it’s de rigueur. A quick browse around most wine sites reveals wine being poured in ways that would put NASA velocity tests to shame. Is the subject really so boring that it needs to be tarted up by pushing the limits of fluid mechanics? Are the stock photo people really that bored? Was a stunt sommelier employed for any of these shots? Do I hear Eric Burdon and War playing Spill the Wine somewhere?

Obviously there are a lot of unanswered questions here, so before I really scare myself and become Andy Rooney, the candidates for the most Extreme Pour of 2007 (in no apparent order) are:

Kapture Group Inc.

Not a wine site, but the Kapture Group sells equipment to help capture moments of vinous mayhem like the typhoon in a glass pictured here.

New York Times

Eric Asimov’s blog is called The Pour so it should come as no surprise that they have a strong entry. A real study of contrasts here as a heavy rope of wine appears to be breaking the surface of an otherwise tranquil glass. Sediment be damned – get it in the glass!

Nat Decants

Is that a giant red wine Cobra threatening Natalie MacLean’s wholesome head? Watch out Natalie!

67 Wine

Not a lot of action here but a lot of wine. Do still waters run deep? The half-full half-empty debate certainly has no room here. No! Fill it to the brim! Let it be known that the people of 67 Wine are not stingy!

Dining on the Vine

Given the apparent lack of gravity, I would call this site Dining on the Moon instead of Dining on the Vine. Is that a bottle or a hose? Waiter, please bring me the 1990 La Tâche and a mop!

Royal Doulton

The quintessential British tableware maker weighs in with a classic Poseidon Adventure pour. Either that or they’re introducing a line of Chablis coloured baby Baboons in crystal.

Please Vote:

Win a Shiny New Spittoon!

To enter, simply leave a comment below. A winner will be selected Monday December 17th at random. You don’t have to write anything clever. A simple “nice spittoon” will do.

So what do you get for the wine lover who has everything? Bottles of wine can be tricky unless you really understand the receiver’s preferences very well. And even then, the element of surprise – the hallmark of any good gift – ups the difficulty ante considerably. How about accessories then? Not a bad choice, but this person probably already has every corkscrew, glass, decanter and gizmo ever invented. What to do? Let’s pay a visit to the outer fringes of the wine accessories world – a sometimes dangerous place where bottle tops are cut off, wine is poured from the ceiling and the glasses hold entire bottles – to find our perfect gift.

Champagne Sabers

“Champagne! In victory, one deserves it; in defeat one needs it.”
- Napoleon

Is chivalry not dead? Sabrage, the act of opening a Champagne bottle with a saber, dates back to Napoleonic times in France. Yes, the French actually have word for cutting off the top of a Champagne bottle with a sword. Apparently cavalry officers employed this practice to impress young ladies and save time as well.

Although cavalry swords were the original tool of choice, a sharp blade is not necessary as the blunt side of the blade is actually used. The whole process is pretty straightforward. First, remove the foil, capsule and muselet (wire cage). Holding the bottle with the cork facing away from you (and other people, windows, etc) firmly slide the blunt edge of the saber blade quickly along the neck of the bottle towards and through the annulus, or glass lip at the top of the bottle. The cork and annulus should come off surprisingly easily due to force of the blow and pressure of the wine in the bottle. The pressure of the bottle also insures that no tiny fragments of glass get into the bottle.

When I first tried this, I was a little timid with my saber action and nothing happened. For my second blow, I channeled Colonel Blimp and used appropriate force causing the cork and top of bottle to fly about 10 feet in front of me. It can be a little nerve racking but surprisingly easy if you give it a good whack.

A wide range of bona fide Champagne sabers are made by craftsmen in Laguiole. The thing that distinguishes a Champagne saber from a regular saber is that both sides are blunt, however, it still makes a formidable gift for modern day swashbucklers.

Port Tongs

Another way to bypass the corkscrew altogether but in an equally dangerous way is with port tongs. While the practice of sabrage is gallant, the use of port tongs looks downright Medieval in comparison. However, it’s very practical as the corks in very old bottles of wine and especially port tend to be extremely difficult to remove. Not only are they softened by years of contact with the wine, but the sugars and extract in the port act as a glue, making it almost impossible to remove. Imagine the cork as a plug made of an old Christmas pudding and you begin to get the nature of the problem. Woe are those who have experienced the anti climax of decanting a fine old bottle of port through an opening in a pulverized cork.

Enter the port tong. Again, we’re taking off the top of the bottle but this time by the effects of searing heat instead of chivalrous force. Personally these things frighten me, so let’s just get through this. First take the tongs – which would look at home in Torquemada’s or really any Inquisitor’s hands – and heat the ends in your fireplace until they glow. That unused kitchen blowtorch you bought for crème brulles can also work in a pinch and can save the expense of installing a fireplace. Did I mention that this is a truly dangerous task?

Take a deep breath, remove the glowing tongs from the fire and clamp around the neck of the bottle under the cork. After a minute or two, carefully unclamp the tongs and set them on a flameproof surface. Wrap a cloth soaked in cold water around the heated part of the neck and you should hear a sharp musical snap which is a result of the break. Carefully remove the top with the cloth making sure no glass chards go into the bottle.

Since the break is clean, the odds of any glass going back in the bottle are very slight. Anyway, the old bottle should be carefully decanted to remove the crust or sediment as well as any errant shards. Yes, we don’t want any internal bleeding so please use caution.

Port tongs are the perfect gift for port lovers, fans of old vintages and hobbyists ready to go Medieval on a bottle. To get an idea of just how unique a gift they are, Wineware.co.uk, the UK’s largest online stockist of wine accessories and one of the only places to buy port tongs in the British Isles sold just 45 of them in 2006, making them a truly one in a million present.

Venencias

Spot the Venenciador

If you’ve ever been to Jerez, you may have seen sherry poured using a venencia, a thin cup on a long stick. In most parts of the world, a glass pipette also called a “thief” is used to take barrel samples but in Sherry country, the more flamboyant venencia is used. With the flair of a Flamenco dancer (another local specialty) the vencencia is thrust into a hole in the barrel, piercing the layer of yeast or flor and taking a sample of wine to be poured from above the head of the venenciador. It’s pretty spectacular especially given that sherry glasses are very small targets.

Fortunately the only danger here is spillage, which of course can be a fairly grievous offense if we’re talking about old sherry. Despite numerous practice sessions with water, my venencia wisely remains a conversation piece.

Huge Titanium Glasses

Perhaps the safest and easiest to obtain extreme gift listed here are the giant Schott Zweisel Diva Large Bordeaux glasses. These are the giant stadium speakers of the wine world that will amplify pretty much any aroma as high as it will go. Balloons like these have been around a long time but now they’re made of a high tech titanium crystal that makes them fairly durable as well. They look as if a light sneeze would shatter them but I’ve actually knocked over a whole row of them domino-style and to my astonishment, not one broke.

The only downside is that they hold more than an entire bottle of wine so that pouring less than 8 ounces per glass will make you look like a stinge. And then there are those guests that will astound you by pouring a whole bottle of one of your best wines into their glass. Fill it to the brim, dude!

Whatever gift you choose (or don’t choose) have a safe and happy holidays and don’t forget to bring out the good stuff.

Where to Buy:

Champagne Sabers: Wine Ultra (USA) Wine Ware (UK)

Port Tongs: PortWine.com (USA and Canada) Wine Ware (UK)

Schott Zwiesel glasses: Wine Stuff (USA) Wine Ware (UK)

Venencias are a rarer specialty and will need to be ordered from Spain. They’re available at the Tio Pepe shop in Jerez. Send an email to comunicacion@gonzalezbyass.es and mention that you would like to order a Grande Venencia for €18.

Champagnes to Saber and/Savor

Billecart-Salmon Brut Rosé
This beautiful wine is strangely enough, salmon coloured and enjoys near-cult status among rosé champagne fans. Medium bodied and lightly fruity with subtle notes of strawberry, raspberry and citrus, it has a wonderfully fine bubbles and a very long mineral-laced finish. Its price has skyrocketed in recent years due to high demand but still worth the splurge. $78

Pierre Gimonnet & Fils 1er Cru ‘Cuis’ NV
It’s hard to beat the quality of Gimonnet for the price. This Champagne completely blows away all of the entry-level grand marques Champagnes – Moët, Veuve Clicquot, Taittinger, Mumm, etc – for less money. The blend is predominantly from the 2004 vintage and has slightly grassy notes in addition to its elegant yet full bodied fruitiness. Excellent. $44

Ports to Tong:

1963 Cockburns
A great producer and one of the greatest port vintages of all time, this wine is a serious holiday treat. Full bodied with chocolate, vanilla black cherries and Christmas pudding, it can easily age another decade or two and as it’s just starting to turn tawny coloured. And truth be told, the cork could be taken out easily with a regular corkscrew. Very good but expensive. $245

Grahams 20 Year Old Tawny Port
Tonging is not necessary on this port as tawnies are aged in cask and bottled ready to drink with a replaceable stopper instead of a regular cork. 20 years indicates the average age of the wine blended so there is still some fruity freshness alongside the spicy, woody richness of this delicious port. $77

Sherries that you won’t want to spill:

González Byass Del Duque Amontillado VORS
This is the great 30 year old Amontillado that all others are judged by. It’s completely dry with a full savoury, nutty, toffee richness, elegance and an incredibly long finish. Amazing stuff and perhaps the single greatest bargain in the fine wine world. $29 (half bottle)

Valdespino Coliseo Amontillado VORS
This great 30 year old Amontillado has an almost unbelievable concentration. It’s like the Del Duque taken to the 10th degree – extremely fragrant rich and almost coffee coloured, an open bottle alone will fill the room with its aroma. Some find it completely over the top but there’s no denying its uniqueness or excellence. A once in a lifetime experience. $420

An evening at the Autour d’ un Verre Copyright 2007 Brice Dunwoodie

This article appeared in the October 2007 edition of Connections Magazine (Ireland)

People used to say that you can’t get a bad meal in Paris. Sadly, this is no longer true (perhaps it never was!) and the same goes for wine. Still, there’s no reason to be glum as Paris continually reinvents itself as the world’s culinary capital. Currently, the increasing vitality of the wine trade in an already wine obsessed city has reaped dividends in great new places to eat and drink wine. To take advantage of this vitality, an excellent strategy for finding a good meal is to “follow the wine.”

Perhaps the best example of the new wine shop/ bistro hybridsthat have popped up all over Paris is Les Papilles. It’s in a cheery yellow storefront on an anonymous street just east of the Luxembourg Gardens and a little south of the tourists swarming around the Latin Quarter. The concept is presented in simple and elegant way: tables are butted up next to a wall of carefully selected wines that serves as a full-scale interactive carte du vin. The 600+ selection is arranged by region and is a great mix of up and coming, fashionable and classic winemakers, including Catherine & Pierre Breton, Thierry Puzelat, Château Le Puy, Domaine Matassa, Gramenon, etc. There’s even a bottle of 2001 Petrus (€900) sitting there like a little devil on your shoulder asking “why not?” Yes, we all know “why not” which is made easier given the amazing amount of very good choices under €30.

There’s only one set menu per day which may sound a bit limiting but you’ll soon appreciate its uncomplicated genius when selecting a wine and – of course – when the food arrives. We were there on a crowded Saturday lunch but everything went very smoothly and surprisingly took very little time selecting a refreshing 2004 Vacoupin Premier Cru Chablis by Louis Robin (€26) whose bracing acidity perfectly complimented the starter of gazpacho. Served in a tureen, it’s ladled over an elegant stack of smoked bacon, herbs and spices in the center of each bowl. The main course was a Potée or stew of braised pork and vegetables served in an elegant copper pan, family style for the table. Flavoured like a Moroccan tagine, the pork was succulently tender and the fresh vegetables had just the perfect degree of crunchiness as a complimentary texture. To wind things up there was an exquisite cheese plate followed by a velvety strawberry panacotta.

The entire meal was served by owner and Chef Bertrand Bluy, whose friendly but imposing figure makes sense when you see the rugby posters that tastefully decorate the back and cellar level of the restaurant. He’s a huge rugby fan and formerly the pastry chef at 3 star Taillevent, which also helps to explain the amazing dessert and ultra high standard overall. The menu is €28.50 plus wine, which is the shop price plus €6.00 per bottle corkage.

On the other side of the river is the rustic charm of Autour d’un Verre. Located just a half block south of the Folies Bergère, it’s a welcome surprise and veritable oasis of rural living in urban Paris, almost as if you walked into a French farmer’s kitchen. The natural appeal extends to the menu – everything is carefully sourced and organic, especially the wines.
Hyper-organic would be a more accurate description. The wines served are all made from hand harvested organic grapes produced entirely naturally, with wild yeasts and no chemical treatments or filtration. Since much is left to nature, the wines vary greatly from year to year and the few small producers who have the patience or zeal to make them are often considered real wine “fundamentalists.”
Fundamentalism doesn’t exactly sound appealing, but the wines are incredibly pure and delicious. Because of the small quantities made and their fragileness, they don’t get exported outside of France so they’re a real treat and surprisingly inexpensive. Not being familiar with a single wine on the large blackboard wine list, we asked for a recommendation. Out came a carafe and bottle of Gilles Azzoni Le Raisin et l’Ange Homage a Robert Vin de Table (€18.00), a garnet coloured wine, hazy from the lack of filtration. Even just a few years ago, it would have been difficult to serve such a wine as those not completely clear were summarily rejected as spoiled. Thankfully such narrow minded taboos have lifted: the Azzoni, an unusual blend of Grenache and Merlot from the Rhône, was wonderfully aromatic, spicy and soft, with just a slight tickle of carbonation. It’s alive! Equally delicious and unusual was a glass of Maupertuis La Guillaume Vin de Table (€18.00), a whisper-light and spicy Gamay.

But let’s not forget about the food – after all, this is a Bistro! As may be expected given the wine list it’s all organic, locally sourced, simply prepared, fresh and delicious. A giant plate of perfectly seasoned heirloom tomatoes was a highlight but won’t be in season for the fall. Instead expect starters of lentils and morteau sausage, paté de champagne, red cabbage with bacon, and chicken soup; main dishes of rascasse (hog-fish) or cod with yellow carrots, beef Bourgogne with mashed potatoes, hand cut sausage, cuisse de canard confit (duck thigh); and desserts of fondant au chocolat, rhubarb pie and apple crumble.

Lunch is €13.00 and dinner is €17.00 for starter and a main plate making it perhaps the best gastronomic bargain in Paris. It may come as a surprise that such a thoroughly French place is run by an American chef, Kevin Blackwell, who owns the restaurant with his Swedish wife Mari.

If you’re a traditionalist and sad to see all of the classic old bistros going corporate, Les Caves Pétrissans is perfect for you. Marie-Christine & Jean-Marie Allemoz are the fourth generation to run this combination wine shop and bistro that was founded in 1895. We even met the fifth generation, Jean-Charles Allemoz running the bar. This charming place just North of the Arc de Triomphe is by far the oldest of all the wine shop/ restaurants that are suddenly all the rage.
Marie-Christine welcomed us in like one of the family even though we didn’t receive the kisses reserved for the endless stream of locals that streamed in and out during lunch. And given the quality of the cooking and great and reasonably priced wine list, it’s easy to see how this place is popular.
The menu is traditional as the environs with classic standards such as steak tartare and lapin à la moutarde (rabbit in mustard sauce.) My chicken terrine with a white tarragon sauce was very tasty even if the presentation was unavoidably bland. Cerises à l’eau de vie (cherries in eau de vie) proved to be a delicious but potent dessert, with the cherries retaining their firmness and the liquor they had been soaking in served in a separate glass. The three course menu is €32.00.
With our lunch we enjoyed a bottle of 2004 Merlin Moulin a Vent (€40.00) which was one of a dozen or so wines also offered by the glass. In retrospect, it’s probably a better idea to delve into the 800+ shop list where any wine can be served with your the meal for €16.00 corkage. It may seem steep but a rare 2003 Clos Rougeard Brézé could be had for €48.00 including corkage, a far cry less than the €85.00 we shelled out for it last year at L’Atelier de Joel Robuchon.
Not wanting to leave empty handed, we purchased another rare treat: the 2005 Domaine Prieuré-Roch Bourgogne Rouge Grand Ordinare for €18.00. Prieuré-Roch is owned by Henri Frédéric Roch who is co-director of world famous Domaine de la Romanée-Conti . The wine is 100% Gamay and treated as seriously as their Cote de Nuits Pinot Noirs that cost €200.00 and up.
If the vitality of the Parisian wine scene is starting to take a toll on your waistline you may want to forgo the Metro and taxis and try one of the tan coloured Vélib’ rental bikes that have recently taken the city by storm. They’re easy and inexpensive to rent from electronic kiosks placed all over the city making it easy to get to even the most out of the way wine bars. Just remember to be careful after a verre du vin. Bon voyage!

Wine Shop/Restaurant Hybrids:

Les Papilles
A rising star – delicious and a very good value. One menu served per day with an excellent (and reasonably priced) wine selection.
30, rue Gay-Lussac, Paris 5er
Tel: 01 43 25 20 79
Metro stop: Luxembourg
Lunch: noon to 14:00 Dinner: 19:00 to 22:30. Closed Sundays.

Les Caves Petrissans
A charming traditional classic. Forget the corporate-run bistros and go there.
30 bis, ave Niel, Paris 17th
Tel: 01 42 27 83 84
Metro stop: Péreire
Lunch: 12:15 to 14:15 Dinner: 19:30 to 22:15
Shop: 10:00 to 22:15 Closed Saturday and Sunday.

Lavinia
Sleek and very big. A must stop for any wine lover. Any of the 6,000 bottles can be drunk at the very good tasting bar or restaurant without a corkage fee.
3-5 blvd de la Madeleine, 75001 Paris 1st
Tel: 01 42 97 20 27
Lunch: 12:00 to 15:30 Wine Bar: 12:00 to 20:00 Closed Sunday

Juveniles
Owned by Scottish born Tim Johnson since 1987, Juveniles is one of the most pleasant places to eat in central Paris and very popular with wine lovers. Their wine list focuses on the Rhone, Languedoc and Australia. We enjoyed a seriously good 2006 Domaine de la Mordorée Tavel with a yummy late night supper.
47, rue de Richelieu Paris 1st
Tel: 01 42 97 46 49
Metro stop: Pyramides
Lunch: Noon to 15:00 (no Lunch on Monday) Dinner: 18:00 to 23:30. Closed Sunday

Taillevent
Often considered the best restaurant in Paris , this three starred and very expensive classic also has an adjacent wine shop. The selection is huge, very good and surprisingly reasonably priced.
15 rue Lamennais, Paris 8
Tel: 01 44 95 15 01
Metro stop: George V
Lunch: 12:15 to 14:15 (no Lunch on Monday) Dinner: 17:15 to 20:15. Closed Saturday and Sunday.
Wine shop open 10:00 to 19:30 daily. Closed Sunday and Monday

La Cave Des Abbesses
If you’re travelling in a group of 20, the nicely selected cheese plate may still be too big. A tres cool wine shop/bistro/wine bar in the thick of Montmatre, it’s a bit gritty and perfect if you like to pair wines with Gauloises.
43 Rue des Abbesses Paris 18
Tel: 01 42 52 81 54
Metro stop: Abbesses
Open Monday to Friday 17:00 to 21:30; Saturday and Sunday 12:00 to 21:30. Closed Mondays.

Legrand Filles et Fils
This traditional family run establishment is probably the greatest wine merchant in Paris. They have a tasting bar in back with an excellent selection of wine by the glass as well as a limited menu.
1 Rue de la Banque, Paris 2
Tel 01 42 60 07 12
Monday : 11:00 to 19:00 Tuesday to Friday: 10:00 to 19:30 Saturday 10:00 to 19:00

Great Wine-centric places to eat:

Autour d’ un Verre
Organic, delicious and inexpensive. A must stop for any wine lover curious about natural wines.
21, rue de Trévise, Paris 9
Tel: 01 48 24 43 74
Metro Stop: Cadet
Lunch: 12:30 to 15:00 Dinner: 20:00 to 22:30 (except Monday). Closed Sunday.

Le Severo
A carnivore’s delight. Perhaps the best steak frites in Paris, all made with carefully selected and aged Limosin beef – perfect with a one of the big juicy Borgueils from their extensive list.
8 rue des Plantes Paris 14
PARIS 14
Tel: 01 45 40 40 91
Metro stop: Mouton Duvernet
Lunch: noon to 14:30 Dinner: 19:30 to 22:30. Closed Saturday and Sunday.

Le Bis Du Severo
The more casual sibling of Le Severo, with the same menu as well as some fish dishes.
16 rue des Plantes 14
Tel: 01 40 44 73 09
Lunch: noon to 14:15 Dinner: 19:00 to 22:30. Closed Sunday and Monday.

Willi’s Wine Bar
Founded by Englishman Mark Williamson in 1980, Willi’s has been a favorite hangout for wine lovers ever since. The food is very good as well.
13 Rue des Petits Champs, Paris 1
tel : 01 42 61 05 09
Lunch: 12:00 to 14:30 Dinner: 19:00 to 23:00 Bar: 12:00 to Midnight Closed Sunday

Bistro Mélac
Jacques Mélac, the energetic proprietor with handlebar mustache, runs this famous wine bar started by his father in the 1930’s.
42 Rue Léon-Frot, Paris 11
Tel: 33 1 43 70 59 27
Open: 9:00 to midnight Tuesday to Saturday. Closed Sunday and Monday. No reservations.

And don’t forget the Map of Paris Wine Shops and Bars from Dr. Vino.

It used to be said – actually quite often – that wine people are all so nice. But Bacchus got bored of that. Polite disagreements turned into towel-swatting. Towel-swatting turned into fisticuffs. And fisticuffs turned into an all out head-in-the-turnbuckle, tomahawk chopping, pile driving, suplexing brawl. Yes, the world of wine has become like professional wrestling.

If you missed such classics as Doghead vs. Parker, Nossiter vs. Rolland, Nossiter vs. Parker, Nossiter vs. Rovani, Squires vs. Broadbent or Robinson vs. Parker, you’re in luck because a rematch of Jonathan Nossiter vs. Robert Parker is currently raging. Nossiter – the filmmaker of Mondovino – has just written a book called Le Gout et le Pouvoir (Taste and Power).

Nossiter (via Decanter):

‘We live in a strange era characterized it seems by a voluntary and collective abandonment’ of individual taste.

‘We are in the process of becoming predictable consumers…standardised and lacking any ideological facets,’ he says. ‘The “global citizen” has become the “universal consumer” of all that is simple and sugared.’

Parker (via erobertparker.com):

“I guess everyone is getting frazzled by higher and higher wine prices and WMDs(wines of massive deliciousness)…..but seriously… anyone with half a chimp’s brain can see through Nossiter’s transparency easier than a J.J.Prum riesling…it is Nossiter and his ilk(call them the scary wine gestapo)chanting the same stupid hymn that demand wines be produced in only one narrow style…..but bring on the suckers and fools….some one will certainly buy into his propaganda as they did that migraine-inducing disingenuous film……will toast the book tonight with some nebbiolo fruit bombs that I am sure all taste the same ….Bruno Giacosa,Prunotto,Produttori di Barbaresco,Sandrone,Aldo Conterno,and Cappellano…and that is just the mind and palate numbing reds from producers who have all sacrificed their wine-making souls….and maybe tomorrow I will pull out the identical tasting juice Michel Rolland-the great Satan himself oversees in Bordeaux….let’s see….Malescot-St.Exupery,Leoville Poyferre,Ponet Canet,Bon Pasteur,La Vieille Cure…..and of course the devil of all wines…. Pavie…… they SURE do taste alike!

It’s certainly not pretty but probably healthy for promoting wine diversity. Ironically they both argue for diversity and lambast each other for having a narrow palate. Parker definitely isn’t pulling any punches (or Bionic Elbows) and his strategic use of animated smilies shows just how serious this fight is.

So who has the wider palate? Who knows? It’s funny how it all comes down to the irresolvable question of taste; irresolvable because taste is always so subjective. Still, I never like when people say things like “whatever wine you like is the right wine for you” because it suggests that there is nothing to understand. It’s a little bit like “I don’t know anything about art but I know what I like” which everyone knows goes hand in hand with appreciating paintings of dogs playing cards. OK, perhaps Cassius Marcellus Coolidge was a genius, but it’s better to come to this conclusion after having a decent knowledge of art in general.

So yes, in the end it does come down to what you enjoy regardless of what experts say. And just because you have an expert palate doesn’t mean you have good taste. A few years back I worked on a screening room for a Hollywood mogul; a project that had a barrage of experts including an acoustic consultant. His ears were so highly developed that he could only listen to music played on ultra-high end speakers or headphones. You may know the type: otherwise a perfectly nice guy but your Sony boom box is just not good enough. The day came when the sound system was going live and golden ears brought in the inaugural CD. My mind reeled. Was it going to be Bach, Mozart, Corelli, Schubert, Tchaikovsky, Rachmaninoff? Louis Armstrong, Charlie Parker, Miles Davis, Ella Fitzgerald? No, it was Steely Dan. Steely f***ing Dan!

Let’s face it, other people have bad taste.

Is it OK to yell blueberry milkshake in a crowded wine tasting?

Portugal and Spain are often described as both new world and old world wine countries because of the mix of traditional and modern methods. This doesn’t just mean that there are new players making wine among the traditionalists. The winemakers themselves are increasingly beginning to mix and match. The two wines tasted here are definitely characteristic of this schizophrenia.

Personally, I enjoy old fashioned style wines. What they lack in fruit they usually make up for in personality with a wide range of unique secondary flavors. In Portuguese reds, I often get the taste of something similar to old wooden furniture. Not that I enjoy gnawing on old furniture but it’s very interesting, complex and enjoyable. Perhaps the casks are made of old galleons. Some of them have rough tannins but for me that just seems to add to the charm. And their higher levels of acidity definitely make them food friendly.

The first wine, a 2005 JP Ramos Trincadeira Vinho Regional Alentejano, seemed to be the perfect embodiment of the mix of old and modern styles. Made from the indigenous grape variety Trincadeira, it had wonderful spicy woody old furniture aromatics as well as generous amounts of berries on the aroma and palate. The tannins were softish and the acidity level was fairly lively. This was an excellent wine full of gregarious personality. But then something happened. Over the course of the evening with a chance to breathe and let it all hang out, it became that bland cliché of international winedom: the ubiquitious blueberry milkshake! Just where did all that vanilla come from? Where did the other berries go? Where was my furniture? It was if our worldly and fun Portuguese guest just stopped talking and decided to listen to Justin Timberlake on the Ipod instead. Who are you?

In contrast, our other wine was one I was sure I wouldn’t like. The 2001 Quinta de Cavela Colheita Seleccionada is made from Touriga Nacional, Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot so I guess that would make it a Super-Minho. Oh brother. But instead of being suave and shallow it was refined and elegant and with characteristic Portuguese charm. It has a bit of maturity and is drinking well right now with restrained sour/black cherry fruits and cigar box and spice. It could pass for a Medoc wine if it weren’t for its unique spiciness. Yes, old furniture once again. And unlike our other guest, this one became much more interesting, complex and likeable over the course of the evening. Embarrassingly enough it was pizza night but this wine didn’t seem to mind at all with its lively food-friendly acidity. Yes, please come back anytime.

I like how in Italy and increasingly in Portugal that there is an increasing confidence in marketing indigenous grape varieties. It’s just unfortunate how the Tricandeira gave such a favorable first impression that didn’t’ last. The Cavela seems to be from a slightly earlier era where it was thought necessary to include some Cab and Merlot for the marketing departments even though the wine retains much of its unique sense of place.

Thanks to Ryan and Gabriella Opaz of Catavino for hosting this month’s Wine Blogging Wednesday. Be sure to check out their well done Portuguese Table Wine Cheat Sheet as well.

This article is a part of Wine Blogging Wednesday “go native”¹ sponsored by Dr. Vino.

Verdelho, along with Sercial, Malmsey and Bual, is one of the 4 main Madeira grape varieties. As one of the dry styles of Madeira, it’s made in a way similar to sherry; in other words, we’re not going to get any primary aromas or flavors from the grapes. No, Madeira is not about fruit.

Oddly enough, Verdelho has become increasingly popular as a dry varietal wine in Australia. So there we might be able to get a sense of what Verdelho is like before it’s oxidized and baked into a Maderia.

One of today’s wines is the Bleasdale 2005 Langhorne Creek Verdelho, which is made by a fairly large family-run Aussie winemaker.

The other wine is a real oddity. It’s the Baumard Vert de l’Or Vin de Table Sec² made from 100% Verdelho. Yes, the same Baumard that’s famous for its Quarts-de-Chaume and Savennières. So what is one of France’s greatest winemakers doing with Verdelho in the Loire Valley? It’s not exactly a jump in prestige from Chenin Blanc but makes an unusual refreshing and delicious wine.

Both are the same price here in the UK at £8.50 ($17.00US) but the similarities mainly end there.

Out of the glass, they’re much different. The Bleasdale is pale straw yellow, while the Baumard is more medium deep like a Savennières.

They’re also different stylistically in ways you might expect from Australian and Anjou winemakers. The Baumard greets you with a wallop of honey (come to the Honeycomb Hideout!), spices – clove, cinnamon, ginger fall leaves, etc. – and a dash of orange peel/ marmalade for good measure. It’s almost like a Savennières without the apple and a little spicier; an excellent wine. The Bleasdale is cleaner and a little less aromatic with citrus zest and melon but also a little leathery note. Could that be brett? OK, maybe it’s not cleaner but seems more pure and restrained compared to the Baumard. Both are crisply acidic, with the Bleasdale a little more so and finishing a little shorter and less intense than the Baumard.

So what’s Verdelho about them both? They seem as similar as chalk and cheese!

Still, there was a difficult to describe similarity that linked them together. Was it the citrus peel and high acidity or perhaps something I’m incapable of describing verbally? Instead of attempting to explain it in an interpretive dance, I turned to a bottle of 15 year old Henriques and Henriques Madeira.

Tasting the Madeira Joe Friday style – just the facts, ma’am – didn’t solve the case but did yield another clue: the wonderful banana bread and walnut aromas in the Madeira seemed to have something in common with the unfortified Verdelhos. A trace of whatever flavor or group of flavors that becomes banana bread and walnuts in the Madeira process seemed to be in both the Baumard and Bleasdale.

So there we have it, Verdelho is highly acidic with citrus peel and proto-banana bread/walnut characteristics. It sounds flimsy but I’m sticking to it. Interestingly enough, Verdelho – like Madeira – is definitely not about fruit.

¹Verdelho is native to Madeira but not France or Australia.
²Vin de Table wines aren’t required to display a vintage year but I believe the Baumard is a 2004.

Out of habit, everyone (myself included) keeps referring to the big 6 grape varieties - Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc, Chardonnay, Merlot, Pinot Noir and Cabernet Sauvignon – but the list seems a little outdated. Where’s the Syrah? Where’s the Zin? Where’s the Sangiovese?

Winemetrics published this list last week based on wine lists in over 10,000 USA restaurants:

Top varieties Consumed:
VARIETY and % DISTRIBUTION
Cabernet Sauvignon 16.2%
Chardonnay 14.9%
Pinot Noir 9.6%
Merlot 9.0%
Cabernet Sauvignon Blends 8.0%
Syrah/Shiraz 5.2%
Sauvignon Blanc 4.5%
Zinfandel/Primitivo 3.9%
Sangiovese 3.4%
Pinot Grigio/Gris 2.8%
Riesling 2.2%
Other 20.2%

Not counting Bordeaux/Cab. Sauv. blends that’s 10. It seems like a good time for a revamp.

How about the big 10?

Winemetrics has a great deal more information for wine stats lovers on their site as well. Thanks to Vinography.com for mentioning them.

If you would like to expand your horizons beyond the big 10, please take a look at this month’s Wine Blogging Wednesday - Go native! indigenous grape varieties moderated by Dr. Vino.