Vino Down Under

I love Australians. I'm not sure why. I guess it's because they're like big, happy-go-lucky Americans with cool accents. They're like Americans who don't have to carry the weight of being American around with them. They don't have a history of exploitive, self-serving and destructive foreign policy to weigh them down, so they seem happier and more innocent than most Americans. Maybe they wouldn’t appreciate the comparison (particularly these days), but to me Aussies are the coolest.

And, of course, I’ve always wanted to go to Australia. When I started getting into wine, I discovered that there was a whole ‘nuther reason to go. They make wine in Australia!

And I thought Australia was beer country. But the Aussies have been making wine for over 200 years. True, a lot of it was cheap, over-sweetened fortified plonk for the Brits (who have a notorious sweet tooth when it comes to wines), but eventually Australia began to produce some serious wines, worthy of global attention.

It was probably the 1980’s before quality wine making really started to take hold down under, but the Aussies were quick studies and started producing some top-notch wines. For some reason (that I wasn’t able to discern after doing a two-minute Google search on Australian wine history) the grape that Australia is most well known for is syrah.

No, no, no, you say. Australia is known for shiraz, not syrah. You say potato, I say potahto. Australian shiraz is made from the French syrah grape that hails from the Rhone Valley. The grape that makes stunning (and pricey) Hermitage and Cote Rotie wines, and provides the backbone for Chateauneuf du Pape. The grape that makes some kick ass California wines, particularly in the Sierra foothills and Paso Robles regions. The grape that is my favoritist in the whole wide world.

Yeah, that one. For some weird reason, the Aussies renamed the grape when they imported it. Don’t ask me why – Google kept mumbling some nonsense about Persians. I think Google’s been doing drugs again.

Whatever, syrah/shiraz is far and away the most widely grown grape variety on the continent. Top locations for shiraz in Australia include the Barossa Valley, the Clare Valley, the Yarra Valley, and Coonawarra. Most of these are near Adelaide in South Australia, the IN destination for the Australian wine traveler.

Whereas French syrah-based wines tend to be deep and complex, Australia shiraz’s tend to be big, loud, friendly and forward – like Aussies themselves. They’re usually, very fruity, spicy, jammy wines that anyone can drink and enjoy. In reality they are so different from the earthy, complex French syrahs or the dense California syrahs, that there really is no way to compare them. Autralian shiraz is a thing unto itself.

Yellow Tail 2006 South eastern Australia Shiraz

OK, I’ve already tasted this one in a previous column, but this is the one wine that everybody buys. I could hardly do a column on Australian wine without at least mentioning the yellow label. Huge spice on the nose. Wow. Cinnamon, allspice and tons of nutmeg. It’s almost like a pumpkin pie! A touch of floral aromas that evolve into vanilla and caramel. Damn! That’s yummy! On the palate, massive amounts of dark, simple fruit and spice. That nutmeg is overpowering. Maybe not for everyone, but this sure does goes down smooth. No wonder people love this stuff! 3.5 stars. Yow! $6.99 at every grocery store on the planet.

Jacob’s Creek 2003 South Australia Reserve Shiraz

Dark aromas of bramble, roasted coffee and a bit of toast, evolving into what I refer to as “aromatic esters”, kind of a banana smell without the banana, if that makes any sense. Not much fruit on the palate. Noticeable tannins. Very disappointing, actually. Not much going on. A big pass. 2.5 stars. $11.99 at Cost Plus.

Yalumba 2001 Barossa Shiraz

Seriously funkadelic on the nose – strong notes of earth, smelly cheese, and barnyard. Yeah, baby – very Burgundy. Definitely not for everyone, and definitely not very Australian – but very interesting and unusual nonetheless. On the tongue, a bit of spice, subdued blackberry fruit. Nowhere near as interesting as the nose. Eh. 2.75 stars. $14.99 at Cost Plus.

Jim Barry 2004 Clare Valley Shiraz “The Lodge Hill”

OK, now we’re cooking with gas. On the nose, a delightful spiciness that develops into serious aromas of camphor, eucalyptus, oregano and a touch of citrus peel. Sounds more like an herbal tea than a wine, but this complex spiciness is more than offset by a base of dense dark fruits. On the palate, strongly spicy, carrying over the camphor flavor, counterbalanced by dark rich flavors of blackberry and black cherry. A bit of a floral flourish on the finish. Easily the most complex and interesting of the bunch – fruity, but miles from simple plonk. 3.75 stars. $22 at Vino 100.

P.S. I was glad to see that Vino 100 opened only 8 days after a thirsty SUV crashed their party and took out a whole wall of wine bottles. Although the decor still looks a bit, uh, 'unfinished' in places, drop by and give Debby your condolences. They still have plenty of wine and it appears that their entire stock of New Clairvaux was spared.

Tasty Tastings

The Chico ER is worthless (big surprise to hear that coming from a columnist for a struggling weekly). I don't watch TV news, but a couple of people told me they saw a TV news story about old lady driving through the front window of Vino 100. So I went to the Chico ER website and spent about 15 minutes trying to find word one on the story. Nada. A Google search turned up only two media sources that mentioned the story: the KNVN website and - guess what - the Chico Beat. Isn’t the ER supposed to be the daily news source for Chico? Kudos to KNVN and the Beat for actually covering local news. Sheesh.

Anyway, my sincere condolences to Debby Stewart and the crew at Vino 100. I saw a photo of the accident on the KNVN website, and I know that old lady took out your entire collection of Riedel stemware (that's the fancy stuff that costs up to $80 a glass). Ouch! There were a couple of real nice decanters in that window display as well. What a shame.

Of course, an accident like that could make great fodder for a person like me, but things like that are a bit less funny when you know the people involved, so I’m going to pass.

What I’m not going to pass on is an opportunity to write about the two “wine tasting shops” (for lack of a better phrase) that we have here in Chico: Vino 100 (sporting a brand new front door, I hear) and Creekside Cellars.

The tough part about writing this particular column – and the reason that I’ve put it off so long – is that it’s difficult to be the sarcastic, snobby wine writer without saying something that might cause these people to spit in the next glass of wine they serve me.

See what I mean? Of course they would never do that, but it’s difficult to balance journalistic honesty with a desire to get free tastes of wine. But I’ll do my best.

Vino 100 and Creekside Cellars are very similar in basic concept. They’re both a nicely appointed shops with wine bottles lining the walls and small tables to sit at and taste the wares. A selection of wines are available for tastings at certain times. Call them to find out when and what they'll be tasting.

The local Vino 100 (www.vino100chico.com) on Mangrove next to Sports LTD, is run by the enthusiastic Debby Stewart, and is based on the noble concept of “one hundred great wines for $25 or less.” Indeed, though I haven’t counted, they certainly have at least that many varieties of wines. In addition, they carry far and away the widest selection of locally produced wines of any place in town. Sadly, many of these local wines suck (see, now I’m in trouble), but I think it’s truly wonderful that Vino 100 is supporting local wineries and giving them exposure to consumers. I honestly think that the more people try local wines, the more incentive these wineries will have to produce better wines.

Creekside Cellars (www.creeksidecellars.com), just around the corner near Morning Thunder, is owned and operated by Brenda and Dennis McLaughlin. They have a somewhat more eclectic (and in some cases much more expensive) selection of wines that Vino 100. Aside from the wine selection, the big draw at Creekside Cellars is the cheese case. They have a small but incredible selection of local and international cheeses. The aged Gouda is the crack cocaine of cheeses. Seriously. They have a huge wheel of the stuff. Someday, I’m going to break in at night and steal it.

Though I like wine tasting at both, it’s always amused me how different they are atmosphere-wise. Vino 100 is more Rock n’ Roll and baseball, while Creekside Cellars is more Classical music and cricket (OK, the cricket metaphor doesn’t work, but you get the idea). Thursday nights at Vino 100 can definitely take on a party atmosphere, while any night at Creekside Cellars won’t be much different than visiting a nice restaurant.

And that’s fine. Depending upon your mood you can go to either place. If you want a quiet evening, go to Creekside Cellars. If you want to socialize and have a good time, go to Vino 100.

What about the wines? Personally I've tended to like the wines I’ve tasted at Creekside Cellars better, but then Creekside Cellars isn’t afraid of serving a $50 bottle of wine. On the other hand, Vino 100 has an amazing willingness to try some offbeat wines you’d never get to taste otherwise. Some of those are hits and some are misses, but if you are the experimental type, Vino 100 might be more your taste.

In the end, they’re both worth visiting. You’ll get to try new wines from new places, and trying new wines is the only way to learn what wines you like.

Homework

Come on, do I really have to spell it out? Not the sharpest tool in the shed, are we? OK, OK. Your homework is to visit both Vino 100 and Creekside Cellars. Not just one – both. Tell them that Tony sent you. But please, visit them on separate nights. I don’t want you driving through anyone’s front window.

Oh Shenandoah

Last week I did a quick review of a few of the wineries in the Fair Play region of Eldorado County. If you keep heading south 10-15 minutes from Fair Play, you'll cross the Amador County line and come upon the Shenandoah Valley wine district.

No, this isn't the Shenandoah Valley of song and legend. There's no rolling river through this valley. However, it is a beautiful valley of rolling oak-dotted hills, interspersed with green vineyards, well worth a Sunday drive. But there’s more to see here than just pretty trees.

If you’re coming south from Fair Play, the first winery that you’ll encounter is Sobon Estate, right on the edge of the Shenandoah Valley. The wines here vary widely in quality, though they make an excellent reserve zin (no really, I’m serious, this one is more than a booze bomb). I’ve also been impressed by their 2004 Reserve Carignane, which has a surprising complexity.

After Sobon Estate, there are several ways to go through the valley. You can stay on the main drag (Plymouth-Shenandoah Road), take a loop on Steiner Road, or turn off onto Shenandoah Schoolhouse Road. My recommendation is to take the Steiner Road loop and then continue down Shenandoah Schoolhouse Road.

The Steiner Road loop is home to several wineries, some more worthy of note than others. One of the biggest wineries in the area is Renwood Winery – you sometimes see their wines in grocery stores and at Cost Plus. Overall, I’m not too impressed with their offerings, other than a 1999 Amador County syrah I had once. Still, they have one of the largest and nicest tasting rooms in the valley.

One place well worth visiting on the Steiner loop is Amador Foothill Winery. Winemakers Katie Quinn and Ben Zeitman do an impressive job on just about all of their wines. My special favorite is their 2004 Katie’s Cote, a Rhone-style blend of syrah and grenache. This wine has earthly aromas, dense dark fruit flavors, with a touch of dark mocha on the finish. Excellent.

I was also impressed with their 2004 Sauvignon Blanc. This wine has just a touch of citrus on the nose, but much stronger notes of peach and apricot. Very nice and much fuller than your typical sauvignon blanc. Good acidity makes it very crisp and tart, with good notes of citrus and lemon rind. A very balanced and refreshing wine.

Once you emerge from the Steiner Road loop, cross the main highway and continue south on Shenandoah Schoolhouse Road. Give Karmere Winery a pass. We found their wines to be way too sweet and alcoholic for our tastes. They even had almond- and raspberry-flavored sparkling wines that were pretty nasty.

However, a little farther down the road and around a corner is Cooper Vineyards, where you can wash the raspberry flavor out of your mouth. A tiny tasting room packed with barrels greets you. But the wines here are consistently drinkable. Notables include their syrah, viognier and petite sirah.

Continuing south, you’ll pass Montevina Winery. Easily the largest winery in the Shenandoah Valley, Montevina wines can be found in grocery stores everywhere. Which is why I’ve never stopped in for a tasting. Maybe their wines are OK. I honestly don’t know.

On your way back to the main road, you’ll see the imposing Bella Piazza Winery on your left. Ah, Napa comes to the Sierra foothills. This large tourist trap is filled to the rafters with hideous knickknacks. Tuscan-style paintings, rugs, huge terra cotta jars – everything is for sale at Napa prices. Oh yeah, they also have a tasting room, but don’t expect to talk to the owner or winemaker. The girl who served us was nice, but knew virtually nothing about the wines. Do I even need to comment on the quality of the wines?

Once you get back to the main road, there is one more place to stop – the best winery on the whole trip. So turn right, back up the valley, to Domaine de la Terre Rouge. I can’t say enough about this place. They make – hands down – the best Rhone-style wines of any winery in Amador or Eldorado counties.

My personal favorite is the 2000 Sierra Foothills Syrah. Strong, fruit-driven aroma. Waves of dense dark fruit, pencil lead, blueberry, black pepper and spice. Very intense and complex. On the palate, again dark, huge fruit flavors, but balanced by notes of vanilla, pepper and spice. Mild tannins. Amazingly balanced and complex.

However, any of their syrahs are excellent, including their Sentinel Oak and Les Cotes de l’Quest syrahs. Their Ascent syrah has even gotten national recognition, though I’ve never been able to afford a bottle. They also make a truly excellent mourvèdre.

Homework

Yeah, I know, you just got back from Fair Play, and now I’m sending you right back down to the Shenandoah Valley. Tough.

Directions: The best way to go is to head to Sacramento and then out Highway 16 to Plymouth.

Worth a Hit: Domaine de la Terre Rouge, Amador Foothill, Sobon Estate, Cooper Vineyards

Worth a Miss: Karmere, Stonehouse, Story, Bella Piazza

Dinner: Without a doubt, the best restaurant within 10 miles of the Shenandoah Valley is Taste (http://www.restauranttaste.com/) in Plymouth. Superior food, excellent, knowledgeable service, and a good selection of local wines. A must.

Playing Fair

As you may have figured out by now, you’re never going to get a trip review from me for Napa Valley. Sure, there are some great – world class – wines from Napa, but the wine tasting experience there isn’t even remotely enjoyable for me. Crowded, over-hyped and expensive; that’s how I characterize it. A big part of what makes wine tasting enjoyable for me is the relaxed atmosphere; talking with the winemaker him- or herself and enjoying the rural environment.

One of the best places to still capture this experience – and taste some surprisingly stunning wines – is in the Sierra Foothills, only a couple of hours from Chico. This week, I’ll talk about the Fair Play region of Eldorado County. Next week I’ll talk about the Shenandoah Valley of Amador County.

The Fair Play region (roughly 20 minutes south of Placerville) is perhaps the most under-appreciated wine making region in California. Like Lodi, the area is “famous” for its burnt and overblown fruit bomb zinfandels with 16% alcohol, but in my opinion you should skip the zins altogether. What this region really surpasses at are Rhone wines – the syrahs, grenaches and viogniers that hail from the Rhone valley of France.

And one of the best-known places for Rhone wines in Fair Play is Holly's Hill Vineyards (http://www.hollyshill.com/). Holly's Hill prides itself on making Rhone wines and in comparing their wines to Cotes du Rhone and Chateauneuf du Papes from France. And though they can’t quite compete with a quality Chateauneuf du Pape, they do make some truly top-notch wines. One wine that stands out is the 2004 Wylie-Fenaughty Syrah. This was wine has a truly earthy complexity and is well worth seeking out. Overall, all of Holly's Hill wines are a clear cut above of the highly alcoholic zinfandel fruit bombs that many of the wineries in this area churn out. Holly’s Hill is easily in the top five or six wineries to visit in the area.

Just down the road from Holly’s Hill is Heaven’s Gate Vineyards (http://www.narrowgatevineyards.com/). I missed this winery on my first few trips to the area, but it’s very much worth a stop. Like Holly’s Hill, Narrow Gates owners and Los Angeles escapees Frank and Teena Hildebrand specialize in Rhone Valley wines. I haven’t had the chance to do more than taste their wines at the winery, but their syrah and viognier were both excellent. I will definitely be returning to taste their wines in more detail.

Probably the best overall winery in the Fair Play area is Windwalker Vineyards (http://www.windwalkervineyard.com/). Interestingly enough, while most other wineries focus on either zinfandel booze bombs or refined Rhone wines, owner Arnie Gilpin focuses the weight of his craft on Bordeaux style wines, based on cabernet sauvignon and cabernet franc. And it shows.

Easily the most developed, most complex, and most profound wine produced in the entire Fair Play region is Windwalker’s Lady in Red Bordeaux blend. Both the 2002 and 2003 vintages (when properly decanted) are absolutely stunning wines that – seriously – could complete with cabernets from Napa and Sonoma. How he gets such complex and full-bodied cabernets in this region I don’t know, but no one else seems to be able to replicate his success. All the other cabs I’ve had in this region were worth a pass.

There is another place also worth your attention, though there is no tasting room, and not even any winery – at least not yet. My partner and I had the great pleasure to taste a syrah from Bechard Vineyards (http://bechardvineyard.com/) at a local restaurant. We were extremely impressed with their 2003 Herbert Vineyard Syrah and decided to look up the seemingly homeless winemakers.

We ended up spending a truly wonderful day talking and tasting wines with Andrea and Ted Bechard in their half-built home near Fair Play. The walls weren’t even complete and the winter wind blew right through the four of us, but there can be no more warming experience than tasting wonderful, interesting wines with the very people who made them. To me, that experience – four people sitting around talking about wine and life – is still the high point of my wine tasting experience.

You can still find that experience in California, but you have to be willing to look for it. Trust me, it’s worth it.

Homework

Do I need to spell it out? Head down to the Fair Play region this weekend and taste some wines. Do us all a favor and skip the zinfandels. You might be able to arrange a tasting with the Bechards, but please, don’t everyone overwhelm them at once. Absolutely do not miss Windwalker Vineyards.

Directions: Go to Placerville. Turn south. How hard could it be?

Worth a hit: Windwalker, Holly’s Hill, Narrow Gate, Mount Aukum, Busby

Worth a miss: Fleur de Lys, Granite Springs, Toogood, Winery by the Creek, Oakstone

Dinner: The Gold Vine Grill in Somerset (http://www.goldvinegrill.com/). Owner Mary Kemp is a wonderful person to talk to and knows everything about the local wines. And the food is superb. Best thing to do is show up at 3:30 for the afternoon tasting menu. Great wines and tasty small plates. Yum!

Ge-whatsa-meener?

I've left German wines for last in my lexicon on wine pronunciations for a couple of reasons, but mostly because German wine terms include some of the biggest, longest, most tongue-twistingess words out there. I’m not sure what it is with the Germans; maybe spaces are rare and expensive, but whatever the case, they sure seem to like to string words together. Where the Italians will come up with a long name of three or four words (like “Vernaccia di Serrapetrona”), the Germans like to jam them all together in one really, really long word.

There’s nothing wrong with that if you’re a native German speaker, but the uninitiated tend to blanch when they encounter a word like “trockenbeerenauslese”, which simply means “selected dry berries” – or more literally, “selecteddryberries”. German is full of words like that. How about “weingärtnergenossenschaft”?

No wonder they started a couple of World Wars – they were probably pissed that no one could pronounce their language (or pissed that they had to).

As far as pronunciation goes, I always had trouble with German (no duh). It seems like it should be like English – much of the English language comes from German – but they have some tongue-twisting ways of putting letters together and then saying them. The best thing you can do to improve your German pronunciation is hawk up a big load of phlegm, but don’t spit it out. Just keep it in your mouth and try to talk around it. Crude, I know, but it does wonders every time.

The most obvious difference in German is how “w” is pronounced. Ve all know this one, don’t’ ve? In German “w” is pronounced like “v”.

Gewürztraminer = guh-VURTS-trah-mee-ner
Weingärtnergenossenschaft = VINE-gart-nur-geh-NAW-sehn-shaft

“Th is pronounced as “t”. Yes, you’ve been saying “Neanderthal” wrong all this time, you knuckle-dragging Neanderthal.

Müller-Thurgau = MEW-lerr TOUR-gow
Thanisch = TAH-nihsh

Vowels are tricky in German, particularly “ie” and “ei”. I was always saying them wrong. But I finally realized that you pronounce the second vowel and ignore the first. So “ie” is pronounced as “e” and “ei” is pronounced as “i”. Cool.

Riesling = REEZ-ling
Mittelrhein = MIHT-uhl-rine

The letters “Ch” are pronounced as “k” (with a bit of spit thrown in at the end), but not if part of “sch”.

Bereich = beh-RICK
Sachsen = ZAHKH-zuhn

An “e” at the end of a word is often pronounced as “uh”.

Trockenbeerenauslese = TRAWK-uhn-bay-ruhn-OWS-lay-zuh
Grosslage = GROSS-lah-guh

“Pf” is pronounced as “f”.

Rheinpfalz = RINE-faults

In fact there are so many weird pronunciations in German that there’s no way I could cover them all. It’s just too flurbereinigung.

Homework

Your homework this week is supposed to be tasting German wines. Well, good luck finding a real German wine in Chico. CostPlus has a couple of bottles and Creekside Cellars has - count 'em - one. You may have to settle for a California- or Washington-grown version of German Riesling or Gewurztraminer. Both are light, often sweet white wines.

Wines of the Week

Dr. H Thanisch 2005 Riesling
Very tart, green apple aroma. Very nice. Just a touch of nectarine and muskmelon on the nose. This wine has the slightest touch of frizzante (a fancy word for fizz), which is nice. It's sweet, almost a bit cloying, so if you like only truly dry wines, this might not appeal to you. The acidity is a bit weak on this wine, so it's not as crisp and refreshing as it might be. Available at CostPlus for $15.99. 3 stars.









Sander Halbtrocken Riesling
Halbtrocken means "half dry", and this is a lightly sweet wine. Muskier and less aromatic than the Thanisch, it has more nectarine and apricot on the nose. On the palate there is no frizzante, but that is more than made up for by a really refreshing crispness. Very nice and enjoyable. This wine goes great with Indian food. I'm not kidding - Rieslings generally pair well with curries and other spicy Asian foods. Available at Creekside Cellars for $12.99. 3.5 stars.

The Good, the Bad and the Unpronounceable

Odds are that you know only one word regarding Italian wines: chianti. And who could blame you? I'm convinced that the reason nobody knows anything about Italian wines is because Italian wines are confusing as hell. I mean, there's like 475 different wine producing regions in Italy. Every little village seems to have its own wine that nobody else produces.

For example, the montepulciano grape comes from Abruzzi in east-central Italy (somewhere above the Achilles tendon in the Italian boot), and wines called "Montepulciano d'Abruzzo" must be at least 85% montepulciano grape and come from the Abruzzi region. Fair enough. But Vino Nobile di Montepulciano is a wine that comes from Tuscany, and is made from the sangiovese grape (the same variety used in chianti), not the montepulciano grape. Huh? Now why would they go and do a thing like that? I thought Italians were nice people.

Where the French are very stuffy and uptight about their wines, I get the feeling that the Italians really don't care. They make great wines, no mistake about it, but they just don't care much about what's called what or defined how or made with what grape. Everybody just does their own thing. As a result, there are a million different types of wines, from barolos and barbarescos to brunello de montalcinos and buttafuocos (I kid you not. You really think I would I make up a name like that?).

It's a consumer nightmare.

I'll go into Italian wines in more detail once I've learned something about them, but today's column is about pronouncing Italian wine terms.

Italian words are easy to pronounce as long as you gesticulate wildly as you talk. OK, OK, that was a cheap shot, but for some reason it really does seem to help. Actually Italian wine terms wouldn’t be so bad if there weren’t so many weird tongue-twisters. Things like “Amarone della Valpolicella” and “Lambrusco Grasparossa di Castelvetro”. When it comes to big long names, the Italians are almost as bad as the Germans.

OK, the rules:

If a word ends in “e”, it’s pronounced as its own syllable.

Sangiovese = san-joh-VAY-zeh
Amarone = ah-mah-ROH-neh

If a word has “ci” in it, the letters are pronounced “ch”.

Montepulciano = mon-te-pool-CHAH-noh
Montelcino = mon-tall-CHEE-noh

If a word has “ce” in it, the letters are pronounced “che”.

Docetto = dole-CHET-oh
Valpolicella = vol-paw-lee-CHEL-lah

If a word has “ch” in it, the letters are pronounced “k”. Isn’t this all backwards?

Chianti = kee-AHN-tee

The letters “gna” are pronounced “nyah”, just like “lasagna”.

Albana di Romagna = ahl-BAH-nah dee roh-MAH-nyah
Carmignano = kahr-mee-NYAH-noh

Homework

Today’s homework is as simple as last week’s. Try a bottle of Italian wine. Strangely enough, you can probably find a better selection of Italian wines in Chico than French wines. Creekside Cellars, in particular, has an interesting (if sometimes pricey) selection. Cost Plus World Market also carries a small selection. Be forewarned that Italian reds (other than thin insipid chiantis) tend to be BIG wines that need some bottle aging or heavy pasta sauce to cut them down to size. They're not delicate sipping wines.

Wines of the Week

2003 Da Vinci Chianti

Rustic aromas, with lots of vanilla, a touch of herbs and spices, and a faint echo of blackberry bramble. On the palette, it's clear that this wine is past its prime. A bit flat, somewhat tart with just a faint echo of fruit that died a year or two ago. These cheap (uh, affordable) Chiantis are meant to be drunk the day you buy them, so holding it as long as I did was a mistake. Probably decent in its time. Just about anywhere, about $11. 2.5 stars.









2001 Canonico Negroamaro

This little wine hails from the heel of Italy and is actually pretty decent. Rich, with a hint of wood smoke and spice. Not fruity on the nose. Mild red fruit on the palette, but more earthy than fruity. Certainly different from your California fruit bomb. Light, smooth tannins, and a tartness that would go well with pasta. 3 stars. $17.00 at Vino 100.











2001 Allegrini Palazzo Della Torre

I had the 2000 vintage of this wine and it was stunning in its complexity and earthiness. In fact, I bought the last two bottles of the 2000 that Cost Plus had. The 2001, unfortunately, pales in comparison. It's not a bad wine - in fact, its very good - but the 2000 was an incredible wine. A bit of earthiness to this on the nose, and a touch of licorce and spice - oregano and green pepper. Not very fruity or dense, a nice tartness and assertive tannins...but nothing like the 2000. If you can score a bottle of the 2000, pay whatever it takes. Available at Creekside Cellars and Cost Plus for about $20. 3 stars.

Pouilly-Fuissé - What'd you Say?

OK, enough whining and complaining about bad wine, bad expensive wine in restaurants, and bad wine tasting. Back to actually learning something about wine.

Today's lesson is on wine pronunciation. Most wines come from (or at least originated) someplace other than America. Strange, weird places with frighteningly unpronounceable names like "France", "Germany" and "Italy". As a result, wine names and other wine terms are usually in some indecipherable foreign language like "French", "German" or "Italian". Typical of such uncivilized cultures, none of these barbaric peoples know how to properly pronounce their own language.

That's where I come in. My purpose here is to begin to provide a guide to wine pronunciation. Not that I actually know anything about foreign languages. I grew up in San Diego (sandy AY-go) and still pronounce baja “ba-ja”. But I'm betting that, not knowing any better, you'll pronounce things however I tell you to. That ought to be worth some laughs when you pronounce Pouilly-Fuissé as “poo-yay fwee-SAY”. Like any real wine term has the word “poo” in it! “Hahahahaha!! He said ‘poo'!! What a moron!”

I've already taken the French to task about their pronunciation, but the more I learn about wine, the more I've come to realize that French might actually be the easiest of the major wine languages. Sure, at first it doesn't make any sense, but once you learn the rules, French is very consistent. If you know the rules, you can properly (as properly as any cretinous, knuckle-dragging American can) pronounce any French word. And French doesn't have many mouth-filling tongue twisters like “trockenbeerenauslese” or “Montepulciano d'Abruzzo”.

So what are the rules to pronouncing French? Well, like I said, I'm no expert (and I'm sure I'll hear from everyone who actually knows how to speak French), but I'll share what I've learned about pronouncing French wine terms.

If a word ends in a consonant, you typically don't pronounce it.

Petit Verdot = Peh-TEE Ver-DOE
Pinot Gris = PEE-noh GREE

This is true even for words ending in “s”.

Graves = grahv
Côtes-du-Rhône = Coat doo RONE

However, there are exceptions, though I'm not sure what the rules are governing them.

Pomerol = paw-mer-AWL
Pinot Noir = PEE-no NWAHR

The letters “eau” and “eaux” are both pronounced as “oh”.

Bordeaux = bor-DOH
Chateau, chateaux = sha-TOH

Double “l” is pronounced as “y”, somewhat like Spanish.

Pauillac = pow-YAK
Sémillon = say-mee-YAWN

The letters “ch” are always pronounced as “sh”, NOT a hard “ch” like in “chair”.

Chardonnay = shar-doh-NAY
Chenin Blanc - SHEN-an BLAN

The letter “e” at the end of words isn't typically pronounced unless it has an accent on it.

Grenache = gruh-NAHSH
Sancerre = sahn-SEHR
Pouilly-Fumé = poo-yay foo-MAY

The letters “ier” are pronounced “yay”. Yeah, like that makes sense.

Viognier = vee-own-YAY
Sommelier = so-mell-YAY

OK, so quiz time! See if you can properly pronounce the following words (answers at the end of the column):

1. Pinot Meunier
2. Sauternes
3. Chateauneuf du Pape
4. Bouteille
5. Chablis
6. Beaujolais Nouveau

Oh, and Pouilly-Fuissé? It really is pronounced as poo-yay fwee-SAY. Really. I swear.

Homework

Today's homework is simple. Try a bottle of French wine. Sure French wines (like top-notch Bordeaux) can be astronomically expensive, but they aren't all unaffordable. But remember, just as with California wine, you typically get what you pay for.

Sadly, there are few places in Chico with any kind of selection of French wines. Creekside Cellars has a few lonely bottles, but not near enough (hint, hint). The best selection, poor as it is, is at Cost Plus World Market.

Answers (Note: print upside down at the bottom of the column):

1. PEE-no moon-YAY; 2. saw-TURN; 3. sha-toe-noof doo POP; 4. boo-TAY (“shake your bouteille, shake your bouteille”); 5. sha-BLEE; 6. boo-zho-LAY new-VOH

Wines of the Week

2003 Guigal Côtes-du-Rhône

Côtes-du-Rhônes are the poor brothers to top Rhône Valley wines, like Chateauneuf du Pape and Côte-Rôtie. I've yet to find a Côtes-du-Rhône that I've fallen in love with – typically, I find them a bit on the thin side. But they're a real bargain compared to other Rhône wines. This wine started out a bit thin, but after two hours of decanting, it was nearly as good as the Chateauneuf du Pape, listed below. Intense honeyed aromas, and a great explosion of floral, honeysuckle flavors. Definitely needs decanting. For the price, it's totally worth trying, and it's definitely different than your typical California fruit bomb. Available at Cost Plus for $11.99. 3.75 stars.



2003 Barons de Rothschild Reserve Speciale Pauillac

Ooh...a Lafite Rothschild! That's like a $400 bottle of wine, right? Well, hardly. The top Chateaux of Bordeaux have discovered what American wineries have discovered: you can sell several grades of wine under your label and make truckloads of money. Trust me, this wine has virtually no relation to their top label. This wine started with earthy aromas of damp cellar and stinky cheese, and developed into a wine with dark, dried fruits and an dried herb finish. Very Bordeaux. If you want to taste Bordeaux on a budget, you could do a lot worse. Needs at least an hour of decanting to reach its full potential. Cost Plus had a couple of different vintages of this wine. Though I haven't tasted it, I'd avoid the 2002 on general prinicples, since that was a terrible year in Bordeaux. Available at Cost Plus for $19.99. 3.5 stars.


2001 Guigal Chateauneuf du Pape

Ranked #41 of the top 100 wines of 2003 by Wine Spectator, this is one of the best wines I've ever had. Amazingly smooth, with sophisticated, yet understated fruit. A very complex wine that develops an incredible, mouth-filling floral character when decanted for a couple of hours. You've never tasted anything like this. If you've never had a serious wine, this is a great place to start. It's a waste of time to drink this wine without decanting it. It needs two hours of decanting to reach its peak. Hard to find, but available at Creekside Cellars for $41.99. Ouch! – but worth it. 5 stars.

Whine Tasting

Anyone who has made a trip to Napa – or even Lodi – knows about the peculiar phenomenon called “wine tasting”. In places like Napa, wine tasting is not too different from bar crawling, but instead of staggering from bar to bar on foot, you stumble from winery to winery by means of your three ton, but less than steadily navigated, SUV. I’ve often felt that the more popular wine roads would make easy pickings for the local constabulary, but you never seem to see any police lying in wait. I’m sure the local Chamber of Commerce takes a dim view of tourists, happy on the local joy juice, spending an unhappy evening in the local drunk tank.

Some areas just don’t seem to be good places for tasting rooms. Napa’s mostly OK, since most of the wineries are on the valley floor and the roads are reasonably straight. But if you head up to the Sierra foothills south of Placerville it’s a different story. First of all, it’s all forest, so you have no idea where you are half the time. But the main problem is the windy roads. You have to wonder about the wisdom of promoting regional “wine trails” where fleets of tipsy tourists have to pilot their gleaming Hummers down windy, narrow country roads.

Once you actually get to a winery and manage to park without knocking over the geraniums, you probably enter the tasting room with every intention of leaving even more blotto than you were when you entered. And I think that’s my main problem with wine tasting. Wine tasting is a strange sort of hypocritical ritual. You go up to the fancy bar, ask what they’re pouring and then – if you’re like most people – you just slug down whatever swill they give you. Nobody spits. Few people swirl or smell the wine. They just knock it back, and all the while it’s all presented as some kind of highbrow experience.

As a wine snob, getting hammered on free hooch isn’t really what it’s all about. Us wine snobs are, for some crazy reason, actually interested in wine “appreciation”. Unlike your average wine tourista who seems to just want to get a free buzz, wine snobs want to experience and understand every aspect of a wine, from it’s color and density, to its aromas, and finally to its tastes and textures.

Yeah, I know, you’re playing the world’s smallest violin. I guess I just wish more people would pretend to actually be interested in the wine instead of just it’s alcohol content.

But I do have to say that I truly enjoy wine tasting at winery tasting rooms, particularly in less known – and less crowded – areas like the Sierra foothills or parts of the central coast.

Napa isn’t even on my list of places to visit any more for a number of reasons. It’s too crowded. It’s too glitzy. They charge exorbitant fees for tasting (up to $25 for a “basic” tasting – even more for a “reserve” tasting of their better wines!). The people pouring the wine are usually hired hands who know next to nothing about the wines. To me, that doesn’t add up to a great wine tasting experience.

On the other hand, in many of the lesser-known regions, you might be the only people in the tasting room. Tastings are almost always free. And very often you find your glass being filled by the winemaker him- or herself, instead of some ignorant part-time employee that who only knows whatever spiel they were trained to regurgitate on demand. There’s nothing like learning about a wine from the person who made it. It’s the highlight of the visit to any winery. I’ve met some truly wonderful people at wineries – and tasted some fascinating wines.

If you haven’t been wine tasting at a winery, you must try it. But please remember that there’s no shame in spitting (particularly if you’re driving). In fact, you can claim that you’re a world famous wine expert. Somebody might actually believe you.

Homework

I’m going to start a new section to this column: homework. Oh boy!! Each week I’m going to give you something to do. Most weeks, it will be pretty harmless. It will almost always involve drinking wine. How bad could that be?

This week’s homework assignment: Go taste the wines at the New Clairvaux winery in Vina (www.newclairvauxvineyard.com/). The New Clairvaux winery is part of the New Clairvaux Abbey, just off Highway 99, about 15 minutes north of Chico. I’ll probably do an entire column on New Clairvaux sometime, but suffice to say that they are at present the best local winery (yes, there are several). New Clairvaux is absolutely worth a visit. The monks are very nice, and if you’re lucky, winemaker Aimee Sunseri will be there giving tours and barrel tastings.

Stuck in Lodi

Ever since Creedence Clearwater Revival sang about being penniless in Lodi, the sleepy farming town of Lodi has had a bad rep. But Lodi is one of the biggest wine producing regions in the state, and has over 100 years of wine growing history, stretching back to the heyday of the Flame Tokay grape. Even today, the Lodi area produces more wine than Napa and Sonoma counties combined.

But in the wine industry, as in the music industry, Lodi’s reputation has not fared well. Known as the northern capital of the bulk wine industry (Modesto is the southern capital), Lodi is home to Sutter Home and Woodbridge. Lodi has justly earned a reputation as a cheap wine Mecca.

But all that's beginning to change - or so I keep hearing. Lodi is the new boutique wine capital, with small wine makers popping up everywhere. Suddenly, poor old disrespected Lodi, butt of hick farming town jokes, is hip. Even the stodgy old AAA is blowing Lodi's horn, with a cover article on the Lodi wine country in a recent issue of their member magazine. Well, anyone who knows me knows that I'm all about what's hip. If the AAA, with its geezer drivers, thinks Lodi is hip, then I must really be missing the boat! So, I hopped in my AAA-insured Mercury Grand Marquis and tooled down Highway 99 to find out.

Downtown Lodi is actually pretty cute - if you can tell much on a Sunday morning when the only thing open is the Starbucks. But they've obviously put a lot of effort into revitalizing the central downtown area; brick intersections, nice streetlights, even a few fancy restaurants - all make downtown Lodi actually fairly appealing to look at.

But downtown is not where the wine action is in Lodi, so off I headed to the north end of town and the Lodi Wine & Visitor's Center (www.lodiwine.com). The Visitors Center is a nice new building that looks like a cheap knockoff of a Napa Valley winery. Inside, there are a few rather lame exhibits. The real draw is the "wine shop" which is really a large tasting room. The people pouring wine were very nice, but I made the mistake of saying that I was interested in wines with subtlety and complexity. Our pourer just laughed. "You came to the wrong place," she said.

Boy, was she right. None of the wines we tasted were even halfway interesting. Not a great start, but it was early and we had a lot of wineries to hit. Back on the road, swerving slightly now, we headed for the best-known wine maker in the region: Michael-David. Never heard of them? OK, how about "7 Deadly Zins"? "6th Sense Syrah?" "Earthquake Zin?" Michael-David makes them all.

And the place was mobbed when we got there. The tasting bar looked like a dead zebra surrounded by feasting vultures. People were literally elbow-to-elbow fighting for space. When we finally poked and jabbed our way to the bar, we decided that this stuff must be damn good, so we went whole hog and paid to taste their full line of wines, from the cheap stuff all the way up to their $30 a bottle flagship cab.

Words can't describe how bad these wines were. As we were learning, the Lodi "style" of winemaking means producing over-heated, over-cooked, and over-oaked fruit and booze bomb wines. These are wines with no finesse, no originality, no character, and no creativity. Sadly, these were about the best wines we tasted that day.

Our last best hope to taste some decent wine was at the Vino Piazza in Lockeford, about 15 minutes east of Lodi. This former bulk winery has been converted into homes for about a dozen boutique wineries. Dutifully, we went from tasting room to tasting room, trying to find a way to gag politely on the vile concoctions we subjected ourselves to.

By the end of the day, I realized that the wines in Lodi all have virtually the same two deadly flaws.

First of all, the grapes are over-ripened to try to get the most fruit flavor and alcohol out of them. What happens when you leave grapes in the sun too long? That's right, you get raisins. And nearly every Lodi wine we tasted had a strong raisiny or cooked flavor. That’s fine in a port, but it’s a serious flaw in a cabernet.

And what do wine makers do with flawed grapes? They try to cover the flaw with lots and lots of oak. Used in moderation, oak can mask minor flaws in a wine. But if a little is good, more is definitely not better. Drinking these wines was like sucking on an oak 2x4 dipped in wine.

But the real problem is that people love this stuff and down it like water. I have a problem with that. Maybe I was wrong in my last column when I said "we’re not as stupid or ignorant as you think". Maybe we are. Wine - good wine - is fun. It's an incredible world of tastes, flavors, styles, people, places, and most of all, infinite variety. But bad wine is just a way to get drunk.

You don't have to drink bad wine, and you don't have to think that bad wine is good. And most of all, you don't have to pay $30 a bottle for good wine. I’m going to keep trying my damnedest to prove that to you. Just don't get stuck in Lodi.

The Truth - 100% Ad Free

People occasionally ask me how I landed a gig writing this wine column. Was it my encyclopedic knowledge of wines? My finely honed writing skills? No, it was nothing like that. I got this job the Chico way: nepotism.

As a result, I never really bothered to actually read the paper or learn much about its editorial bent. I had a cush job with a fat paycheck, so what did I care? But for some reason (boredom), that changed this week and I actually flipped through the paper.

First thing I noticed was the editorial “poem” about the raise given to Dr. Zingg, President of Chico State. Suffice to say, it wasn’t flattering. Now, I actually really and truly know Dr. Zingg, so my point here is not to comment one way or another about the virtues of the poem. For the record, I have no opinion one way or another (I have a day job, and if you follow the org chart up far enough, his name and mine are connected, if you get my drift).

My point is to contrast that poem with what the Chico New & Review wrote about Dr. Zingg. Dr. Zingg is a nice guy – I know this from personal experience – but what the CN&R wrote could only be characterized as fawning. Their three-paragraph piece praised his leadership with words like “skill”, “flair”, “style”, “grace” and “sincerity”. Skill? Fine. But “flair” and “style”? He’s an administrator, not a hair stylist, for God’s sake.

Where the CN&R regularly fawns (I’m beginning to like that word) over local businesses and only pretends that it’s not salivating over another Walmart, the Beat regularly skewers self-important local business organizations and decries the imminent demise of Chico at the hands of the big box companies. Editorially, reading the Beat side-by-side with the “Snooze and Abuse” has been something of a revelation.

So what does this have to do with wine? Nothing per se. But I’m beginning to see the editorial differences between the Beat vs. the CN&R. The CN&R kisses up to everyone in Chico and gets tons of ads; some from obscure local businesses that I’m not sure actually exist. The Beat alienates everyone in Chico by trying to tell the truth and gets – at best – a dozen ads.

Cool. It’s all beginning to make sense.

I can alienate people, and I bet I can help get that ad count into single digits in the process. All it requires is telling the truth. For some reason, a lot of local businesses hate that. Let’s start with local restaurants.

Actually, let’s start with a chain restaurant to soften the blow a bit.

Last week for some inexplicable reason, my partner wanted to go to the Olive Garden. Normally we eschew such places in favor of locally owned establishments, but we were over by the Mall, it was a Monday, and Sierra Nevada and Kramore Inn were both closed.

Now, the Olive Garden just won a “Persons of the Year” award from Wine Enthusiast magazine for their efforts to educate Americans about wine by offering a “wide” selection of wines as well as giving free tastes of wine to every customer. Laudable…at least until you take a look at their wine list.

Remember the column I did on the really, really, really cheap stuff? Yeah, the one where I drank Thunderbird. Well, Olive Garden carries the worst of the wines I tasted. That’s right, they feature the Riunite Lambrusco right on the menu - the stuff that I said smelled like “an intriguing combination of raspberry fruit rollups and paint thinner”. It sells for $2.99 a bottle at Albertsons, but the Olive Garden has the huge hairy balls to sell it for $4.50 a glass, or $15 for a bottle! That’s a 400% markup! 400%!!! For crap that makes better furniture polish than wine!

And you know what? The Olive Garden isn’t that different from any other restaurant in Chico. I know that I’ve bitched about this before, but the biggest rip off in town is a bottle of wine purchased at any “fine dining” establishment. No matter how bad the wine is, you’re going to pay 100% to 300% markup in virtually any restaurant in town. It’s complete highway robbery.

Most restaurants in this town assume that you’re a wine idiot (you certainly are if you buy a bottle from them) and offer crap, generic, boring wines at usurious, outrageous prices. Come on! I can buy Sterling Vineyards and Beaulieu in the grocery store! Offer me something I can’t get elsewhere, and offer it to me for a price that makes me want to try it!

Quit being lazy and quit buying your wines at Costco. Learn something about wine dammit, and offer us some interesting, good wines, at good prices! We’re not as stupid or ignorant as you think. Sure, Chico’s a hick town where franks and beans are considered haute cuisine, but not all of us are ignorant of wine. And we’re not going to let you rip us off.

So, what can you do to throw Chico restaurateurs up against the wall? I’m glad you asked.

1. Get educated. Go to a restaurant and take note of their wine list (or look it up online). Then find out what their wines retail for. The next time you eat there, tell them exactly what their wines cost retail and exactly where else you can buy them in town. Straight out tell them their wines are over-priced and that you know it.
2. Bring in a bottle of wine that’s on their list and ask to pay only the “corkage” fee. Typically, restaurants charge $10-15 to open a bottle you bring in. But if you bring in a bottle that they sell, odds are that they’ll make much less on the corkage fee than they would selling you the wine. They really, really HATE this. They may get nasty if you try this, but it sends a message.
3. Bring a bottle of Two Buck Chuck. Sure, paying the corkage on a bottle of Trader Joe’s finest will turn it into a $14 bottle of wine, but that’s still cheaper than what you’d pay for a bottle of the generic swill they’re selling. And nothing sends a clearer message than Two Buck Chuck.
4. Bring a bottle of something that you like, happily pay the corkage fee, but make a point of telling them that you’d love to buy off the list if it had anything interesting or reasonably priced on it.
5. Ask them why they don’t carry your favorite wine, French wines, Italian wines, local wines, anything other than the generic garbage they get from some distributor. Tell them you’d appreciate it if they expanded their selection. Be specific about what you’d like them to carry, so they know that you know what you’re talking about.

This Valentine’s Day, my partner and I are going to Spice Creek. But we’re bringing our own bottle. I haven’t even looked at their wine list, and honestly, I’m pretty sure I don’t have to. So be forewarned, Spice Creek, when you see that bottle of Chateauneuf du Pape come in the door, and remember that I personally know the president of Chico State!

The $10 Threshold

This is my last week torturing myself with cheap wines. For the most part, it’s been money – and wine – down the drain. But I’ve learned that there’s a major difference between the really, really, really cheap stuff (less than $4 a bottle) and the really, really cheap stuff ($4-6 a bottle). But it gets a bit less clear when moving from the really, really cheap stuff to the just-one-“really” cheap stuff ($6-10 a bottle). Some $9 wines weren’t significantly better than the $4 stuff.

Of course, to a wine snob like me, there’s a certain “duh” factor involved in a statement like that. For us wine snobs, $30 is the threshold where we start to think that we might occasionally find a decent bottle of wine. That’s why there are two types of wine snobs: rich ones and broke ones. If you drink two or three bottles a day like I do, it really starts to add up!

For normal people and people with other kinds of drug habits, 30 bucks a bottle is a bit steep. For them, you hit a big psychological threshold when the price of a bottle goes from $9.99 to $10.00. “Whoa! There’s an extra digit there! I don’t know if I’m willing to pay $10 - $10!!! – for a bottle of wine! It better be damn good!”

People expect that extra penny to make a big difference – and wine makers know it. With that in mind, I myself was expecting to finally drink some decent wines this time around by picking bottles in the $10-15 range. In order to maximize my consumer-spending dollar, I decided to take a trip to Costco; the over-sized home of over-sized boxes of over-sized food sold to over-sized Americans.

Given my limited funds (yeah, I’m one of the broke wine snobs), I decided to only get three bottles, and I decided to pick wines that I thought had a pretty good chance of being worth it.

Andrew Murray 2005 Tous les Jours Central Coast syrah ($12.69)
Andrew Murray is the label that Sideways made famous. On the nose, a decent mix of dark blackberry fruit and a bit of earthiness, but overall the nose was a bit weak. On the tongue it had a faint but pleasant perfuminess to it. However, the fruit was not very strong and the wine was a bit hot on the finish, with a fairly strong taste of alcohol. A decent, drinkable wine, but a bit on the simple side and a bit disappointing. 3 stars.

Rodney Strong 2003 Sonoma County Cabernet Sauvignon ($10.99)
This wine was recommended to me by a friend whom I consider to be a connoisseur of cheap wine. Pretty darn decent nose right out of the bottle. Really heavy dark blackberry fruit, with a lot of spiciness. Very impressive for the price. The first taste packed a real whammy of tartness, but that faded quickly, giving way to solid spicy fruit and decent tannins. A solid effort. Revisiting the wine after it had been open for about an hour was a mistake. Suddenly, tons of oak leapt out of the glass, followed by an off, almost metallic finish. This is one wine to avoid decanting. 3 stars.

Chateau Souverain 2003 Alexander Valley Cabernet Sauvignon ($14.99)

This one was right at the top of my price range (and probably $18.99 anywhere but Costco), and by God, it was the only one to really come through. Solid dark fruits on the nose like you expect with a Cabernet. On the palette, really just yummy compared to the swill I've been drinking. This was the first wine I'd tasted in weeks that actually had some complexity and structure. Hallelujah, brother! And it just got better the longer it was open, developing more complexity and deep flavors. 3.75 stars.

Now that my crusade is complete, I have no idea what to write about next week. But fortunately, I have a whole week – and 15-20 bottles of wine – before I have to do anything about it.

Moving up or Just Costing More?

If you've been following this column you know that I'm on a crusade to discover the price point where I will actually get to taste a decent wine. To my amazement, I actually came close last week with that drinkable little Woodbridge merlot. If that keeps up and I hit pay dirt this week, I may chuck all of my Bordeaux in the trash and switch to stuff that's a tenth the cost!

I'm really getting into this cheap wine thing. Don't ask me why – the wine snob in me is cowering in a corner sucking his thumb and crying quietly – but the idea of trying a bunch of cheap wines and maybe finding a diamond in the bargain bin has me all hot under the collar. Plus, I get a "reason" to pop four bottles of wine in one night. The downside is that I usually don’t remember much of the tasting the next day and have to make up a bunch of BS to keep my editor happy. Whatever.

Anyway… on with the tasting!

This week I bought four wines that you should be able to find at any grocery store. I picked mine up at Cost Plus.

Blackstone 2005 Monterey County Chardonnay

This wine didn’t actually have a whole lot of aroma – a bit of butter, but not much else. On the palette, it was actually almost flavorless, but, boy, it sure did go down smooth. They finally made something flavorless that has 13% alcohol! Served cold, you could get pretty happy on this stuff, but if you’re actually interested in wine, give it a miss. Honestly, the Gallo chardonnay I had last week was just as good. Pathetic. $8.99. 2 stars.

Yellowtail 2005 Shiraz
As soon as I saw this bottle, I knew I had to buy it. Not only was it easy on the wallet at $5.99, it’s the one wine every single person on the planet has had. On the nose it wasn’t very impressive; a bit oaky and slightly sour, but not horrible. On the palette this was easily the most interesting wine of the bunch. Very floral and perfumy, in a very pleasant way. Smooth. You typically expect an Australian shiraz to have a lot of fruit and pepper, but this one didn’t. Bottom line: this was the only wine I didn’t pour down the sink afterward. 3 stars.

Ravenswood 2003 Vintners Blend California Zinfandel
Ooh… “Vintners Blend”. That must be the good stuff! Actually, “Vintners Blend” is the cheapest stuff Ravenswood makes. “Vintners Blend” is pure marketing for people who know nothing about wine. Yeah, I’m talking to you. Ravenswood is famous for its Zins, but this ain’t one it’s famous for. Too much charred oak on the nose, and bit cooked tasting. Bleech. $6.99. 1.5 stars.

Columbia Crest 2003 Columbia Valley Cabernet Sauvignon
I’d never had a Columbia Crest wine before. As a California wine snob, I figured that this was just cheap wine, and why drink something from Washington when I could drink something from California that was probably just as bad. Amazingly, this wine had no aroma whatsoever. I mean, even the really cheap stuff smells like something, even if that something is lighter fluid and carpet cleaner. When I buy a bottle of wine, I want it have some sort of smell. Anything will do. But try as I might, I couldn’t suck any smell out of this. The taste was no great shakes either; a bit of oak and some faint fruit. A pass. $8.99. 1.5 stars.

What’s the story here? With the exception of the Yellow Tail, these wines were actually worse than the cheap crap I drank last week. And most of these wines cost about twice what the Woodbridge and Sutter Home cost. Damn! I need to do a better job making up the garbage I put in this column.

Next week: I ask for a raise because I’ll be moving up to the $10-15 a bottle stuff. Ooh-la-la.

Moving Up in the World

Why am I doing this? I keep asking myself that. I actually went out to the grocery store and bought a shopping cart full of cheap wine. I mean, the Franzia and Boone's Farm were bad enough, but I bought a whole basket full of Woodbridge, Sutter Home and Gallo wines as well. That's just plain humiliating for a wine snob like me. It's like Brad Pitt getting caught buying low-grade crystal meth in some alley in downtown Oroville. A guy like that, you'd think he could afford the good stuff - and have a taste for it. Thank God no one recognized me!

Even worse, now I actually have to taste them. The sacrifices I make for this column simply boggle the mind.

Fortunately, I prepped myself for the task by spending a weekend tasting wine in Lodi. Poor Lodi , the butt of Credence Clearwater Revival songs and any number of jokes about hick valley towns. But, based on my wine tasting experiences last weekend, it deserves every joke and every slight tossed at it. Never have so many bad wines been served to so many people in such a small town. But it was a good experience because it lowered my expectations to such a level that I might actually feel blessed to drink Gallo.

Gallo Twin Valley Chardonnay (non-vintage)
After the huge oak bombs that I had in Lodi, this was actually a semi-refreshing change. Cheap chardonnays are known for two flavors: butter and oak. Interestingly, this wine actually bucked that trend. Though it definitely had some oak, it didn't crack me over the head with a two by four. Don’t get me wrong, this wine weren’t nothing special, but it weren’t hideous neither. Actually, for the price – and to my astonishment – this wine was actually drinkable. 2.5 stars.

Woodbridge 2004 California Merlot
I’m not a merlot fan, and not because of the movie Sideways. I couldn’t care less what some actor spewing some piece of dialog says. But the fact is that merlot makes some of the wimpiest, “blah” wines in California, pathetically generic stuff that could be anything and tastes like nothing. Sure, merlot makes some of the best wines in the world, but in California, it’s hard to know what you’re getting until you taste it.

Well, this little wine actually puts out – relatively speaking. Sure, it’s got a fair amount of oak to it, but nothing obnoxious or over the top. But peeking through that (and its low class pedigree) is a wine that almost – almost – has some real character. Again, a stunner. 2.5 stars.

Sutter Home 2002 California Cabernet Sauvignon
I’m not sure what the deal was with this wine. They tend to push the vintages on these cheapo wines pretty fast. Two years is about as much lag time as these producers can handle (partly for marketing reasons, but partly because their wines begin to self-destruct after a couple of years in the bottle. Chateau Latour this stuff ain’t.). This wine was a 2002 and must have been collecting dust on the store shelf for at least two years. And it seemed to be showing signs advanced age. It wasn’t actually bad; it just lacked any sort of character or body. A weak, but not seriously flawed wine. 2 stars.

Sadly, these three wines were among the best I tasted this weekend, and that makes me a bit leery of recommending any of them. The best bad wine is still a bad wine after all. I’d only feel safe recommending these if you’ve been drinking Franzia or Almaden - you poor, poor soul. Amaziungly, these wines actually represent a huge, gigantic step up from box wines, and are worth every penny of it. I honestly never thought I’d hear myself say anything remotely like that. Writing this column brings me to a new low every week.

Next week I’m going to move up the scale to $9-10 per bottle wines – the stuff you might find in Cost Plus or Costco, and probably what you consider the “good stuff”. Some day, I’ll actually drink a real wine for this column. And you’ll all send me hate mail. Sigh.

You can see me taste this week’s wines at: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fh_6tLe22aQ

The Good Stuff

My editor is a very nice and thoughtful guy. So nice and thoughtful that he got me a bottle of wine for Christmas. A bottle of Thunderbird. No kidding, he really did. He even left the price tag on. $3.69. Nothing like a big spender.

A first, I thought, “ha ha, great joke!” But then I started wonder. Was he just being a wisenheimer or was he trying to send me a message? I mean, let’s face it, I’m writing this column for the Chico Beat – the operative word being “Chico.” Don’t get me wrong, Chico’s a nice place, but it’s hardly the most sophisticated city on the planet.

Maybe, I thought, my editor is trying to tell me to write my column at the level of our audience. Maybe I’ve been aiming too high with my fancy wine reviews and talk about how to spit properly. Maybe the people who read this column are spitting, but they’re spitting Copenhagen not cabernet. Instead of reviewing $20 bottles of wine, maybe I should be reviewing $12 boxes of wine.

So I bucked up my courage, headed to the nearest Stop ‘n’ Rob liquor store, and added some “popularly priced” wines to my collection of fine Bordeaux. Honestly, I felt like a complete hick when I brought my cart to the checkout counter, imagining the clerk (and everyone else in the store) sneering at me in derision. I slunk home to my single wide in shame and popped open these bad boys to soothe my hurt.

Thunderbird (Non-vintage) $3.69
At $3.69 for a standard 750ml bottle, the T-Bird is priciest stuff (per gallon) I tasted, and has the most alcohol at 17.5%. The aroma alone is enough to burn the hair off your chest, with overpowering waves of rubbing alcohol and citrus cleanser emanating from the bottle. This stuff smells like something you need a hazardous materials permit to buy. And that’s about how it tastes too. It hits you like cough syrup, dense, strong, sweet, and medicinal. In fact, this stuff probably makes pretty darn good cough syrup – at least after a few slugs you wouldn’t be feeling any pain. While the other wines left me confused as to what their purpose was, there was no doubt with Thunderbird: the purpose of this wine is to mess you up. 2 ½ barfs.

Boone’s Farm Strawberry Hill (Non-vintage) $2.50
Boone’s farm is the wine you probably drank when you were in high school. I’d never had it before, and the first thing I discovered was that it’s fizzy! It tastes like strawberry soda, and I can see why this stuff is popular with high school kids. But it’s just so overpoweringly sweet that it’s actually difficult to drink and leaves behind a sickly sweet aftertaste. 1 ½ barfs.

Franzia Sunset Blush (Non-vintage) $10.99 – 5 liters
This wine is the bargain of the bunch: nearly seven bottles of wine for $11. This stuff is light pink like the Boone’s Farm. Not much aroma on the nose, but it hits you over the head with almost toxic citrus flavors when you first taste it, almost like biting into a grapefruit rind. After that, the flavor turns hideously sour and leaves behind a God-awful aftertaste. 3 barfs.

Riunite Lambrusco (Non-vintage) $2.99
Of the four wines I tasted, this was the only one that actually looked like a real wine. On the nose, this wine has an intriguing combination of raspberry fruit rollups and paint thinner, but the flavor is just vile. It was so sour that I thought the wine was spoiled, but it was also sweet – not in a good way like sweet and sour pork – but in a bad, bad, disgusting way. I can’t imagine that people actually drink this stuff. This was far and away the worst of the bunch – hard to believe, but true. 4 barfs.

Conclusions
You people actually drink this stuff?!?! My God, for a dollar more a bottle you can move up to stuff at least has some vague resemblance to real wine! Heck, for $1.99, you can drink Two Buck Chuck! Anything has got to be better than these over-sweetened, sour, citrusy booze bombs.

Look, I’m going to do you a real favor. Next week, I’m going to taste the next level up – the $4 a bottle stuff – and I bet we actually go from “barfs” to “stars” in the process.

If you want to laugh while watching me trying to down this stuff, go to http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=3iGr51zHdHw.