Browse Month

July 2006

TN: Everyday stuff

[Rosemount]Rosemount 2004 “Diamond Label” Shiraz (South Eastern Australia) – Dense, slightly charred blueberry with some sour/stale characteristics and a slightly spicy, but overly flat finish. This might improve with a bit of age, but it seems unlikely. (7/06)

Rosemount’s “Diamond Label” used to be a solid, reliable performer. It still is, I suppose, but the quality has slipped…making it reliably mediocre. It’s a shame, too, because simple, fruity shiraz from Australia can be one of life’s least complex pleasures. Alcohol: 14%. Closure: extruded synthetic. Importer: Rosenthal. Web: http://www.rosemountestate.com/.

Chateau Ste. Michelle 2002 Chardonnay (Columbia Valley) – Nasty, fetid oak with a vile bitter streak. Horrid. (7/06)

Really, what more is there to say? Alcohol: 13%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.ste-michelle.com/.

TN: Rieslings, Burgundies and popes

Dr. Fischer 2002 Ockfener Bockstein Riesling Spätlese 1 04 (Mosel-Saar-Ruwer) – Strikingly vivid, with piercing acidity slashing through light-infused sweetness and shattering against a molten aluminum core. Still quite primary, but there’s limitless potential here. (7/06)

All the German pradikats (ripeness levels) have lost their meanings in recent years, with even the most lowly kabinett all too often being an auslese-wannabe. This wine actually tastes like it might be a natural spätlese, albeit on the riper side of things…maybe just edging into auslese territory (it’s impossible to know for sure without a lab analysis, and drinking’s a lot more fun than playing with beakers). Alcohol: 9%. Closure: cork. Importer: Carolina.

[Christoffel]JJ Christoffel Erben 1998 Ürziger Würzgarten Riesling Kabinett 04 99 (Mosel-Saar-Ruwer) – Creamy lime, lemon curd, and a lovely, soft texture with lingering remnants of spice on the finish…which is brightened by crisp apple shavings and nice acidity. Perfectly mature. (7/06)

This is probably a bit old for a kabinett…not that they can’t age this long (especially from a good site and producer); it’s just that when they’re good young, they’re so good that it’s a little silly to hold on to them. But if you do, here’s an example of what can happen: all the best qualities of aged German Riesling, writ small (as a kabinett should be). Plus, there’s even the trademark Würzgarten spice. Alcohol: 7.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Theise/Skurnik. Web: http://www.moenchhof.de/.

Boxler 2002 Pinot Gris L50 (Alsace) – Big spiced pear with a metal edge and great acidity. Simple now, but there are hints and teases of a greater complexity to come. (7/06)

Boxler’s elaborate lot coding system is something I understand in its French incarnation. But I’m a little unclear on the American bottlings, which are different. My supposition about this one – L50 – is that it’s an assemblage, not a single-site wine (Boxler makes several wines from lieux dits that are not specified on the label outside the lot number), because the site-specific wines tend to have letters trailing the number. And if you think that this sort of arcanity is anathema to casual wine appreciation, you’re right. Why mimic the worst abuses of the German system? Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Chadderdon.

[Drouhin]Drouhin 1996 Chambolle-Musigny (Burgundy) – Soft and balanced, a little recalcitrant at first opening but quickly blossoming to something really elegant. There’s five-spice powder, raspberry, strawberry blossoms and seeds, and with all the tannin fully resolved and the acid fully integrated there’s nothing to get in the way of this gorgeous and aromatic fruit. (7/06)

Chambolle-Musigny is known for producing wines of elegance, and this wine pretty clearly states its origins. It’s a village wine, which means the grapes can come from anywhere within the village boundaries of Chambolle-Musigny (in reality a village plus a defined number of vineyards around the village), and ten years is a pretty good lifespan for such a wine. Alcohol: 13%. Closure: cork. Importer: Dreyfus Ashby. Web: http://www.drouhin.com/.

François Lumpp 1999 Givry Crausot “1er Cru” (Burgundy) – Almost shockingly primary, with strawberry seed, ripe mint juice, and a spicy herbality surrounding a full-fruited, tingly wine that clearly leans towards the black fruit realm. Honestly, in a blind tasting, I’d probably identify this as being from Oregon, or at least the Russian River Valley. It’s a very nice little wine, but I’m not convinced it has much to say about Givry. (7/06)

What little I’ve been able to learn about this producer suggests that the wines are minimally amplified, in both the vineyard and the cellar. How, then, to account for the performance of this bottle…which, if it continues along its current lines, will most likely be exceptionally long-lived for a Givry? Well, the simple answer is that I can’t. Anyone have any suggestions? Alcohol: 13%. Closure: cork. Importer: Vineyard Road.

Coulon “Domaine de la Pinède” 1998 Châteauneuf-du-Pâpe (Rhône) – Spiced bubblegum, rosemary, thyme, and raspberry with meat liqueur and a gorgeous, long finish. The wine is surprising in its youthful, full-bodied presentation of completely tertiary elements; it’s come to full maturity very, very early. (7/06)

Wines have different purposes, and not all wines must be forceful, structured and long-aging to be excellent. Normally, so-called “off-vintages” fit this bill…things to drink while one waits for better bottles to come to a drinkable state…but with the escalating price of ageable wines (especially from Europe, given the dollar’s dismal performance) and a world of worthwhile alternatives, this isn’t always an appetizing option. But then there are wines like this one, which comes from a theoretically fine year, but was just never meant for old bones. To have this much aged complexity in such a young wine (eight years is not a long time for Châteauneuf) is as welcome as it is rare. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Corcia.

TN: Coffee, sausage, bathhouse, bait (New Zealand, pt. 35)

[Theresa & Lake Wakatipu at sunset]U2 brew

When I left Alexandra, it was sunny and a little hot. In nearby Cromwell, it was warm but cloudy. A half-hour away, in the Gibbston Valley, it was milder, but with returned hints of the sun. And just up the road in Queenstown, the air is decidedly crisp, and a light rain falls. None of these places are far from each other, yet the climatological differences (and their inevitable effect on viticulture) are writ large.

All that said, I’m not here for wine. I’m here for coffee.

Theresa, fresh from her relaxing day at the spa (and her even more relaxing post-spa nap) joins me on a dubious side street, rife with American fast food and truly tacky knick-knack shops, to try what is alleged to be the best café in all of New Zealand. That, as we’ve discovered, is a mighty strong claim, but we’re prepared for a thorough assessment.

It’s not easy to find Joe’s Garage (Camp St.) from the front, mostly because there’s not really a sign, nor are there street-facing windows to indicate what’s inside (there’s one in the back, alongside some outdoor tables, but no one would ever be back there unless they knew precisely where they were going). In this way, it’s a little like The Bunker in its self-conscious invisibility to passing throngs of tourists, and though the word on this place is definitely out, I suspect many are simply unable to locate this venue.

Inside, however, things are a bit more amusing. Joe’s Garage is a single, high-ceilinged room (that does, in fact, look like a converted commercial garage), with a studied mess of haphazard décor that suggests some sort of geographically indistinct road trip…a little Route 66, a little Paris-Dakar, perhaps even a little Southern Scenic Route…and the cornucopia of tchotchkes assembled along the way. In the room: a few small tables, a few stools at a bar, and that’s it. It is strikingly hip via its very indifference to the concept.

I note, however, that the entropy of the main room does not extend to areas behind the bar, where a four-person staff works in pristine, efficient precision. I take a quick look at the menu of breakfast-type comestibles (scribbled on a large board far above the bar), and order a “brat” and a flat white. Here is what transpires:

A sausage is plucked from a rotisserie, glistening and plump. It’s placed on a hot grill, while an even fatter roll is produced. This is toasted in its native state, then sliced open and toasted a second time, while the sausage is rolled and tossed around the grill until it has developed a fine sear on all sides. A canister of a smoky barbecue-type sauce is set next to another full of piquant, English-style whole grain mustard, and these are carefully applied to each interior face of the now well-toasted roll, after which the sausage is arranged precisely in a position to be enveloped by these condiments. The price for all this excellence? $5 NZ.

Meanwhile, the barista – unquestionably the most brooding and serious of the café staff, so much so that Theresa begins to refer to him as Bono – begins the process of making a flat white. With a series of fresh presses from the elaborate brewing machinery behind him, he assembles a lineup of cups and begins to work his art: an espresso here, a cappuccino there, and then a series of flat whites. A dark, almost inky shot of espresso is immediately pierced by a folded mixture of steamed and frothed milk, though top-riding foam is held back by the careful manipulation of a knife. The barista gently adjusts the direction and amplitude of his pour, leaving the finished coffee topped with a delicate leaf pattern traced in the tiny amount of foam that rises to the top of the cup. It is an absolute work of art.

It’s taste, however, that matters…and here, Joe’s Garage unquestionably surpasses its reputation. The bratwurst sandwich is in perfect proportion – meat, bread and condiment in satisfying marriage – while the coffee is utterly flawless and stupendously rich. Laughing with delight over our purchases at a freshly-emptied table, we have only one question: what took us so long to visit this place?

Learning to hate baths

We nurse a second pair of stunning flat whites, then head back to the house to change for dinner. Little do we anticipate the turn our evening is about to take.

(Continued here, with tasting notes and more photos…)

TN: Pinots, grey and black

[Coteau]Domaine Coteau 2003 Pinot Noir (Yamhill County) – Rough, chewy dark berries with brighter raspberry and rhubarb elements and some basso soil undertones. There’s earth, there’s structure, and there’s fruit, but it’s all a bit untamed and unruly at the moment. (7/06)

Domaine Coteau (not to be confused with California pinot producer Radio-Coteau), puts much of its qualitative focus on vine density, yet another of the viticultural methods available for stressing, and thus concentrating, fruit. The results do seem to show here, vs. other Oregon pinots, but simple concentration is not enough…especially for pinot noir. But this is a young winery, so there’s plenty of time to work things out. Alcohol: 14.5%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.domainecoteau.com/.

Trimbach 2001 Pinot Gris Ribeauvillé “Réserve” (Alsace) – Big but refined crystalline pear and good, crisp acidity. Always solid. (7/06)

The residual sugar in this wine is always just at the barest edge of perception, but in good years (like 2001) the perfect balance of fruit and acidity leaves an impression not of sweetness, but of richness. Such is the case here. Alcohol: 13%. Closure: cork. Importer: Diageo. Web: http://www.maison-trimbach.fr/.