this heaven gives me migraine

What I did on my summer vacation...

I have pretty much spent most of my time over the past week cramming and reading and writing. I am taking a WSET exam in July, and of course I did not casually study over the last two or three months as I had planned; instead I read the book and put off real studying, thinking for a while I could use the study guide. I was in denial. Because I learned once you get past the first five chapters (mostly wine production and grapegrowing), the study guide just doesn't cut it.

So last week I spent most of my non-sleeping non-working time going through the book and taking notes- I mentally gave myself about a week to go through the entire book. I photocopied maps to study (and later, to Sharpie out the information on them so I can see if I can remember what goes where), I filled up an entire set of index cards ("Old World") and started a second set ("New World) with regions/wines/grapes used/etc, I have each chapter outlined in my handy dandy notebook (in my almost illegible handwriting), and I ran a completely new pen out of ink in the process and started on a second pen. I still have maybe four very short chapters on spirits and such to go (only about ten more pages, total), but I am breathing much more easily now. Well, until I think about having to actually remember all this stuff. At least now I have notes, will travel, and I can lug them around with me and stare at them while commuting over the next few weeks. Trying to write on Caltrain sucks, to say the least.

So my lot in life is such that I won't remember the main villages in the Grande Champagne region of Cognac, but I will remember stupid random things that will never get asked on the exam. I don't know why I find some of this stuff so amusing or memorable, but I do.

So I present to you a list of random and useless facts and observations about the material presented for the WSET Advanced Degree in Wines and Spirits:

- Germans have the highest per capita consumption of sparkling wine (okay, it is Sekt and not really the finest sparkling wine, but whatever) in the world. Who knew? You would think they would be drinking beer.

- Bulgarian native grapes (Melnik, Gamza, Pamid) all sound like alien names in a bad movie, or pharmaceutical brand names. Pamid particularly sounds like it should be a form of birth control, and Gamza would be for digestive issues. Melnik? Hair loss, I think.

- All Champagne corks must have the word Champagne printed on the part that goes in the bottle, even though Champagne is the only AC in France that doesn't have to actually say AC on the label. All DO Cava corks must have a four-pointed star on them.

- The American market is driven by fashion. Right now, Rhône grapes and Merlot are fashionable. (This is according to the UK authors, and the book was published in 2004. I am pretty sure the version coming out this year has Merlot scratched out and Pinot Noir in its place).

- When the French owned North Africa, North Africa produced 3/4 of the total wine produced in the world. Now, not too much going on there.

- The Margaret River area in Western Australia has few problems with fungus or rot, but has a big bird problem in that the region houses a lot of very bad and hungry birds that eat all the grapes if they can.

- There are so many styles of Port (white, ruby, reserve ruby, tawny, reserve tawny, tawny port with age stated, crusted, late bottled vintage, colheita, vintage, single quinta vintage) that it's just stupid.

- Blaufränkisch is pronounced just as awkwardly as you might think. If you are American, you can call it Limberger/Lemberger, though. Or you can call it Kékfrankos if you are Hungarian, which you are (probably) not.

- Bulgaria used to be a really big deal around ten years ago (especially for Cabernet Sauvignon), and by 1996 Bulgaria was the second-largest wine exporting country in the world.

- Chile probably has the best conditions for grape growing in the world. Supposedly near-perfect. No pests, perfect weather.

See? If I got tested on stupid things, I would be set. In any case, I hope to get a lot more studying and a some more wine tasting done before July 9, because I keep forgetting I really do need to taste stuff, too. And I am definitely not thinking about the fact that my parents roll into town on June 30 and leave on the morning of July 9. Luckily they will have a convention and trip to Napa/Sonoma to distract them from me, because I will surely be muttering random facts to myself by then. I woke up the other morning thinking about the geological difference between Chablis and Petit Chablis (mostly limestone and Kimmeridgian clay for the former, and limestone and the the not-as-good Portlandian clay for the latter), and that is kind of worrisome. When you wake up and "Kimmeridgian clay" is running through your head, you know you are in trouble.

WBW10 wrap-up posted

I am a day late and a dollar short, but Alice posted the roundup for WBW10 days ago, over here. It looks like some good wines were tasted, and I will be seeking some out, now that it (maybe) finally stopped raining, here.

2002 Edmunds St. John "Rocks and Gravel"

Region: California, US (Berkeley, even!)

Composition: 65% Mourvèdre, 25% Counoise, 10% Syrah

Background: Oh, those wacky kids over in Berkeley, with their "bottled by intuition and blind luck" note on the label. Steve Edmunds and his wife Cornelia St. John are the wacky kids in question, and they started Edmunds St. John in 1985, with the idea of attempting to grow Rhône grapes and make terroir-driven wine in California-- not such a crazy idea now, but back in 1985, it was probably a bit of a wild venture. They have always been low key and self-funded, and have been making wine in a variety of warehouses over in Emeryville and Berkeley.

This is my first Edmunds St. John wine, and I have been interested in them for a while since I hear good things of their Syrah (I was recently foiled in an attempt to get some, recently). This particular wine has some Syrah in it, but the blend is usually dominated by Grenache. I guess in 2002 they couldn't find any Grenache, so this blend is Mourvèdre-based. The grapes are sourced from a variety of vineyards in California, from Paso Robles to Placerville, hence its designation as California Red Wine. Only 607 cases were made.

Notes: Blue-crimson in the glass with a light pink edge. A very brambly sweet-fruit nose with a strong ash and smoke element that I find a bit overwhelming. Berries, pencils, old leather, spice, and some gamey aromas are also floating around in there. In the mouth it initially full of black fruit, but that is quickly overcome with a wash of strong smoked leather. If I could remember ever eating jerky, I might think it was a little like that. The finish has some soft tingly tannins, and it lingers for a long time, leaving you with a subdued pleasant smoky flavor in your mouth. Overall it's a little too much on the smoky side for me, even though I do like it. When I tasted it a day later I thought the nose was a little much, still, but the flavors had smoothed out overall and in the mouth it was less smokily overwhelming. I think it really wanted some roasted meat to show off.

Maybe it's just this vintage (probably, since it sounds like this vintage was unusual), but I thought it was amusing that there was a lot of stuff in this wine, but not a lot of rocks or gravel. It could have been called "Smoke and Meat".

Cost: $20

Overall: B-

2004 Chehalem Pinot Gris

Region: Willamette Valley, Oregon, US

Composition: 100% Pinot Gris

Background: I am in the throes of frantic study for my WSET exam in July (and wondering what I was thinking, as well as wishing I could drink wine and study effectively at the same time, but that isn't possible), so I haven't been drinking much at all, but I made an effort to sit down with some wine tonight so I could participate in Wine Blogging Wednesday 10, the not-Noir Pinot challenge. We sat down with this, some bread and cheese, and an episode of Gordon Ramsay's Kitchen Nightmares. I may or may not get through Germany and Austria later tonight, at this rate.

Today was a lousy day for a crisp white wine here in San Francisco... it's been rainy and cool and drizzly all day, and I would much rather be drinking a nice rustic Minervois or Southern Rhone tonight, not a sprightly white. But for Wine Blogging Wednesday, I go the extra mile. And I think we had a winner... someone else in the house was eye-rolling about having to drink a white wine on a day like this. He had some, and opened a red since that was more in keeping with the weather, but I notice he went back to this after a glass of the red.

I have had and enjoyed Chehalem Pinot Noir before, and chose their Pinot Gris because I had some at Chez Panisse back in April and enjoyed it enough to want to try it again and pay more attention to it.

Chehalem was founded in 1990, and is in the Willamette Valley of Oregon, about 45 minutes south of Portland. They make a variety of Pinots (Noir, Gris, Blanc) as well as a couple of Chardonnays, and I certainly hope to visit them someday, next time I fly up to Portland (we drove the first/last time we were up there, and that drive is LONG). Chehalem is pretty dedicated to terroir and was involved with an interesting "transparent winemaking" experiment with some pals over at Rex Hill and Bethel Heights wineries back in 1998. (I love experiments like those because I love all things conceptual). They model their Pinot Gris after Alsatian Pinot Gris, favoring complexity and a full body, and they bottle the wines in flûtes d'Alsace, the traditional long, thin bottles used in the French region. They also use a very nifty-looking screwcap that I liked.

Notes: Greenish straw in the glass, like dried grass, something I am seeing a lot in California of these days, the freak rains notwithstanding. The full nose of honeyed peach with pineapple is forward, but not overwhelming. It's snappy when it first hits the tongue, with a lot of tart fruit right off (more stone fruit), and it finishes with tart green apple and apricot, along with some honeyed undertones. We had it with some Hudson Valley Camembert, Cypress Grove Pepper Chevre, and quince paste (...I called it "dinner!"), and it was pleasant. It has a lot of weight to it, and is almost Chardonnay-like in body. My only complaint is the apricot-bittersweetness at the finish, and the fact that overall the finish is a little heavy and clunky for the rest of the wine.

Before I sat down and picked it apart like this, I enjoyed it a lot more. Back then I had it with pasta and asparagus with green garlic and cream. I thought it went really well with those things, even the pesky-to-match asparagus, and the funky finish didn't bother me at all. This is what happens when you pay attention....

Cost: $15

Overall: B

Indiana falls

Well, the inevitable has started to happen. A few days ago, wineries in the state of Indiana were "reminded" that there is no shipping allowed in-state. I guess for the last 30 years they have been kind of lying low and shipping anyway, and everyone averted their eyes and just ignored it, since Indiana does not technically allow shipment of wine (especially out of state). A sort of don't-ask-don't-tell kind of thing.

I guess now with this new ruling, this kind of inbetween thing isn't possible and we are going to have two types of states: the more conservative states or states without a wine industry powerful enough to fight for allowing shipment, and the wild and wacky states that allow shipment. Even wine is political these days. And I guess the wholesalers in the no shipping states will do well. I wonder how hard it is to become a wholesaler?

Maybe the Indiana wineries will be able to fight this and bring Indiana around to the good side, although I wonder how much Indiana wine in-state residents would buy if they could get other wine. It might be a lose-lose situation for the wineries.

Drive your own bottle of wine

From Decanter, file in the totally silly file: There is a limited-edition Sassicaia Mini out now, and if you have 50 grand and are one of the lucky 12 people to get your hands on one, you can be driving around in a bottle of wine. Or as close to a drivable bottle of wine as one can get.

I got curious enough to find pictures, and found some here. I am not sure why I am finding something so frivolous and silly this amusing, but I think it's kind of funny. Those wacky Super-Tuscans!

You could pick it up, and drive it over to France and gas it up with some wine turned into fuel! And make performance art or something.

2004 Etude Rosé

Region: Carneros, California, US

Composition: 100% Pinot Noir

Background: Yet another notch in my Pinot Noir/Rosé belt. Of the rosés I have had in recent months, this is my favorite, my weirdness about Etude notwithstanding. I am continuing to try others, partly because this one is pricey for a rosé and hard to get, and partly because, well, what is life without experimentation? I still love it. I can tell I love it because I tend to hoard it and when occasions come up, I debate if they are worth the Etude Rosé. I can't hoard it too long, though, because then I would have old rosé and that could be ugly.

Tony Soter made this wine before, but stopped production about a decade ago. The masses have been clamoring for its return (or he thought it was worth revisiting) and he's making it again- this 2004 version was a trial run of 600 cases. I hear he sold them all, and quickly. Bacar (watch out, silly flash intensive site with a possibly outdated menu/wine list) has this on their glass menu right now, for anyone wanting to try it without serious commitment. It looks like K&L also has a few bottles left.

Etude has been around since about 1982, and is Soter's original effort to make wine, hence the name "Etude" (French for "study"). The focus is Pinot Noir, but Soter also makes a couple of other wines under the label. In 2001, Beringer Blass bought Etude, which Soter says allowed him to expand and improve the winery without going into debt/taking on partners. This move probably also allowed Soter to focus more on his other label, Soter Vineyards, located up in Oregon, and explore his interest in sparkling wine as well as continue his work with Pinot Noir.

Notes: This may possibly be the girliest wine in existence, and I mean that in a good way. It's a very feminine wine... elegant and refined and soft. In the glass it is a clear salmon pink with some orangey glints, and the nose is goregous... all honeysuckle and strawberries with honey and rose. In the mouth it is full of berry fruit, mostly strawberry and cherry, and has a soft finish full of more berry and rose. There is some acid in the finish, but not a ton, and it is silky and pillowy and the flavor lingers for a long time. I think part of the reason I like it so much is that everything is so well-integrated and balanced that it is a pleasure to drink. If you could drink a glass of silk and soft velvet, this would be it. It has a ton of fruit in it, but is not sweet or cloying.

Cost: $18

Overall: A

2003 Marotti Campi "Luzano"

Region: Marche, Italy

Composition: 100% Verdicchio

Background: After a hard weekend of doing little and a day dominated by hangovers and general lethargy, we decided to celebrate Memorial Day by walking up the hill for dinner at Aperto. It was a nice sunny day and the food we were ordering seemed to demand white wine, so I went with a Verdecchio dei Castelli di Jesi, a wine I have read a fair amount about but have never tasted. I was just vowing the other day to try more Italian whites, and it seemed time to start making good on that vow.

Verdicchio dei Castelli di Jesi is one of the more famous wines of the Marches area of Italy, an area to the east of Umbria. The Verdicchio grape originated in Marches and is now grown in several regions of Italy, including Tuscany and Friuli. The Marotti Campi family grows these grapes (and the grapes for the handful of other wines they make, including an interesting-sounding Lacrima) in the hills around the town of Jesi, surrounded by castle ruins (castelli). They have been doing this since the 19th century, but are interested in trying new things such as replanting some of their vineyards with high-density plantings.

Notes: This wine is a clear, sparkly lemon yellow in the glass, with glints of chartreuese. The nose is floral and grassy, smelling of white jasmine, hay, lemons, and green apples, and in the mouth it offers more of that tart apple and lemon on the palate, along with some bitter lemon pith flavor in the finish (a slight bitter finish seems common in Verdicchio), which I of course loved. It's got a medium body, probably somewhat from the fact that the grapes were left on the lees a long time, but overall is zesty (the wine sees no oak, which is a good thing in this case) with nice acids and surprising elegance. It went well with our artichoke, leek, and pine nut ravioli and asparagus, leek, and preserved lemon risotto, which was nice considering that asparagus and artichoke can be a pain for wine-pairing. We finished the bottle while watching a guy ride up and down Connecticut Street on his bike. When I asked him what he was training for (if you could see Connecticut Street you would know that people aren't likely to bike up and down it for fun) he said he is going to try to bike up Mount Shasta. Good luck, bike guy!

Cost: about $15

Overall: B+