Red CarBehind on rosé coverage, only sipping, spitting and noting for buying purposes, I wanted to highlight a recent personal experience I had with Red Car Winery’s rosé from the Sonoma Coast on a warm weeknight.

This rosé of Pinot Noir hailed from the Bybee Vineyard in the Russian River Valley, specifically the Green Valley AVA within it, close to Sebastopol. A cool microclimate allows these certified organic and biodynamic Pinot Noir grapes to achieve a delicate ripeness while balancing food-worthy acidity.

Getting past the sexy packaging, my eye focused on the color—a soft (medium-intensity) coral pink that was indicative of its abbreviated maceration (time in contact with the skin of the Pinot Noir grapes).

This rosé leapt from the glass with a youthful aroma of red cherry, peach and fresh rose petals. The mouth feel was decidedly rounder than expected, even with its medium-body and pert, mouth-searing acidity, which helped me negotiate slices of fatty salami. The finish smacked of apricot yogurt with a few fresh-picked cherries and strawberries thrown in for good measure.

A good start to my recorded rosé encounter, but if you were only mildly curious about rosé this one might be going slightly overboard—the price point is a tad steep (≈ $20)—for an introduction. For the more serious enthusiast, looking for something special, look no further.

HermitAn annual dalliance with the Rhône Valley white wines seemed a weak tribute. Rather than a once-a-year fling, I wanted to taste those unctuous wines again and revel in their visceral texture that leaves way to a seductive honey-and-mineral mousse as they course through the palate. Maybe even show them off with a dinner? Luckily, my tasting group was of the same mind, and we turned our attention to the Northern Rhône.

The region is perhaps best known for Syrah (the only permitted red grape in Northern Rhône), but the terraced slopes and continental climate are extremely hospitable to the principal white grapes of the Northern Rhône—Viognier, Marsanne and Roussane.

Solitude BlancOur tasting featured some of the greatest producers of the North, leaving only the Viognier grape unrepresented. Jean-Louis Chave made three appearances, followed by Paul Jaboulet and François Villard. Tasting blind encourages us to keep unbiased rather than succumb to reputation. The fourth wine was profound, a deep gold painted the inside of the glass with a clean and pronounced intensity of caramel, lemon peel, minerals and essential oils (think extracts) on the nose.  In the mouth, it possessed a youthful vigor with more citrus fruits emerging, sweet spice (vanilla) and a handful of rocks that coalesced into a suave full body, shaped by decent acidity (medium). We saw the cress of Domaine Jean-Louis Chave unveiled, specifically a 2002 Hermitage in the wake of the discarded wine bag disguise; the bottle’s contents’ not phased by age but enhanced by it, matching the pedigree of the wine.

One other bottle happened to really excite me during the tasting, perhaps because it was so wildly different! Before the stately and serious fourth wine, our third bottle stood out as an extrovert, youthful aromas of lime zest, peach, white flowers (Jasmine) fireworked from the glass. On the tongue the wine had a definite swagger; a full body that kept the alcohol, though medium-plus, reined in, and strutted out with rich flavors of white peach, squeezed Lisbon lemons, beeswax and a fleck of vanilla bean for a sultry finish. Flashy! Unfortunately, when we unveiled it, one member of the group missed the memo and bought Southern Rhône, fetching a sexy bottle of 2010 Domaine de la Solitude Chateauneuf-du-Pape blanc.

These wines were probably the most difficult to judge blind, they had a lot of overlapping qualities sandwiched between their robust texture and stone-fruit-inflected flavor profiles. However with food, they were a delight. Every aspect seemed to mesh nicely with our seafood accompaniment and although nobody splurged on Chateau Grillet the tasting was another wonderful success. Might make it a quarterly engagement?

Qupe SplitI hadn’t lost sight of my goal for Syrah: To find a bottle that was balanced, complex and most of all, affordable. I looked to a domestic producer that was synonymous with Syrah, specializing in all things Rhône.

I had a split of 2010 Qupé Syrah open and breathing on the countertop.

This Central Coast Syrah was a deep purple at the core with ruby highlights at the rim. The youthful hue was just a passing note but the enticing scent was worth lingering over. I brought my nose to the bulb and discovered scents lifting (medium-plus) of cooked plum, tobacco, sage, cardamom and jerky. The intense aromatics were mouth-watering and continually evolving. When I transitioned to the palate, the first sip showed off the structure, a flexed frame (medium body), with moderate tannin and medium acidity that helped round out the slightly warm finish of Pluots, black cherry, tobacco, beef jerky and dried herbs.

The half bottle of Syrah brought a deep list of descriptors with it. Showing more than similar domestic Syrah I have tasted this year, and for a fraction of the price (≈ $15*), this modest red, an entry-level wine from the acclaimed producer, showed well until the end, shattering my sticker price theory for Syrah and left me with one wish: A bigger bottle!

 

*Price listed is for 750ml, not the 375ml I tasted.

RC BA friend’s belated birthday dinner was the perfect excuse to indulge, and, on advance reservations, we headed west for an early supper at Rustic Canyon to corroborate all the weighty claims about a superior burger served at the Santa Monica eatery.

RuthWe arrived at 6 PM sharp—parking nearby was easy despite competing with fellow early birds—to a table for two. The dining room was half-full and sun-soaked, poised to catch the most of the waning light as it washed over the worn hardwood floors. A beverage list towered vertically, while our cardstock menus lay glued to the table. There was little milling over the drinks, we skirted the vin in favor of beer—the list was chock-full of interesting choices—the Rustics, were in fact, a wine bar. The burgers’ reputation was sterling and the reason (one of them, anyway) for our trip, but the starters were where we welcomed our server’s input.

Guided gently to a Clam & Mussel Pozole and the ever-popular Kale Salad to precede the heavier main fare. I nibbled on some olives, passing time with playoff hockey chat.

Two diametrically opposed dishes landed together, sharing only their earthy green hue. The bowl of Pozole finished with crisp tortillas, making use of a wide range of flavors and engaging all the senses. From the varied textures to the subtle spice and clean cilantro flavors, the starter had it all in spades. It unfortunately overshadowed the kale salad.

Then the burgers landed. All business. Identical presentation between the two plates as the immense cheeseburgers split their rectangular ceramics with fries. The brioche bun was toasted to a firm and flaky consistency to keep its integrity under the rich and fatty grind that was cooked to a perfect medium-rare (a good default setting). The sharp cheese, melted nicely, lent another layer of fatty flavor, which added continuity to the sandwich’s theme. The spread, pickles and sweet onions worked harmoniously to provide an extra bit of lift. It was simple and satisfying.

If a burger’s purpose were to showcase the high quality meat that makes it into the patty then Rustic Canyon would surely get a gold medal. The patty was tender, filling and delicious and they didn’t hide it. We not only disagreed who would make it out of the first round between Anaheim and Detroit but also on how good that burger was (by me it took top honors for E.O.M. in May), as it didn’t bowl my friend over. I guess that’s what happens when one’s expectations are parked above the Hollywood sign. Still, the overall dining experience was excellent and I can’t wait to go back for seconds on the Pozole.

R Wiest TastingIt was an earth day. The Farmer’s Almanac had prescribed the flavors at the forefront of a day’s worth of tasting Riesling. Headed to a steakhouse for the annual Dry Wine Tour with limestone, schist and Gypsum slate thoughts pouring through my head.

I arrived at Lawry’s Prime Rib at 2 PM, expecting to taste a wide range of dry German wines informally, and, at my own leisure; instead, I happened upon a yearly seminar lead by Brent Wiest and a panel of distinguished winemakers, bending our ears with soil composition, weather, aspect (altitude), winemaking and the philosophy behind their estates and selected offerings. I guess I didn’t read the invitation carefully.

Inside the pantheon of prime rib, five glasses apiece splayed out on dense wooden tables dressed in white cloth and rimmed with a collection of shop owners, sommeliers and buyers from Southern California eager to learn more about the battery of wines on display.

DownthebarrelBeginning with Raumland Cuvée Katharina sparkling wine, the German fizz was a blend of Pinot Noir and Pinot Meunier that primed our taste buds for Riesling’s signature cut. Wagner-Stempel, another Rheinhessen producer’s flight was on deck.  In bracing for the lime and peach flavors, bracketed by mouthwatering acidity, I was blindsided by their Pinot Blanc from Siefersheimer with a fresh perfume of orchard fruits and white flowers. The curvaceous body showed a supple creaminess in the mid-palate that was lifted by a jolt of refreshing acidity and a lengthy fruit finish.

Dr. Uwe Matheus walked us through the next flight of bocksbeutelsthe distinctly stout and rounded bottles of Fraconia—filled with Silvaner from Weingut Wirsching. The region is famous for spicy Silvaners and Wirsching’s wines were the epitome, showing nuanced spice and herbal characteristics, but again, the outlier, a lone bottle of Kabinett Scheurebe from Iphöfer Kronsberg made an indelible impression early on the tour. The tropical notes flooded in waves, breaking with mineral precision and sculpted by bright acidity (medium-plus), a rich medium-body, on a long, complex finish that weaved wet stones, ripe peach and mango with hints of exotic spice delicately.

R WiestRed wines eventually made their way prominently into the lineup as we carved a path into Pfalz and Baden in Southern Germany. The two winemaking regions are suitable areas for the production of red wine like Spätburgunder (Pinot Noir), Lemberger (Blaufränkisch) and other rare crosses found in German cellars due to increasingly warmer climate. Though there were some interesting red wines like the Cuvée D, which blended Cabernet Cubin and Cabernet Dorio among other international varietals, I was drawn to Pinot Noir. A particularly rousing example came courtesy of Markus Mleinek from Dr. Heger in Baden. Dr. Heger’s Pinot Noir GG (Grosses Gewächs) from Winklerberg delivered a smoky scent infused with gravel and tight clusters of red berries. The pronounced intensity of the nose was matched by the youthful exuberance of fruit and mineral content that had not meshed fully, buttressed by medium-fine tannins and living up to its vineyard site’s pedigree. An infant, Mr. Mleinek explained that this wine would benefit from years of cellaring despite how seductive it was in its youth.

Two hours had passed in a blink and only the sides of my tongue had noticed. Dry Rieslings are always a treat but this seminar lent a fisheye lens on the exciting spectrum of wines—including the notable Scheurebe and Pinot Noir samplings—coming from Germany. The earth had never tasted better.

Westside TavIt had been a while since I last had a burger, tiptoeing around my favorite comfort food in hopes of reinvigorating the palate. In lieu of the patty I was on an Asian binge, I devoured lunch at Lukshon, which was a catalyst for delving further into a Far East bender. Undocumented dinners at A-Frame and Nong La would eventually take me full circle though, as I went fifth wheel to finally order a highly touted burger at the Westside Tavern.

Beside the Landmark Theaters, the Westside Tavern is a contemporary space that offers fine-tuned American fare complimented by a deep beverage program. Reminiscent of Hillstone’s, but not a chain, Westside Tavern relishes its role of convenient date spot for the pre-movie crowd or can act as a beautiful finishing touch to an evening.

With a pair of married couples, we grabbed a booth, catching the last two periods (plus some bonus hockey) of the Ducks vs. Kings game over cocktails and burgers. Well into my bourbon drink and at about the halfway point of the game, the food appeared. From the lens of my iPhone, I best documented the rotund grub, capturing a melted layer of Tillamook Cheddar dominating the landscape; the finely ground, hand-packed patty was completely obscured, supported by a brioche bun with a few leaves of arugula lending color. However, it is what you couldn’t see that seemed to bring the burger down a notch; a mess of caramelized onions and the garlic aioli that were very present on the first bite.

The meat and cheese combo were sterling, but the proportion of caramelized onions seemed to drown out the sandwich. I was essentially eating two things: French Onion Soup from Mimi’s Café and a gourmet cheeseburger on the side. The sea-salt fries were splendid though, helping me reset after a few bites.

Apart from the palate confusion, the burger showed some good qualities like being perfectly cooked and seasoned well when those bites weren’t masked by the overpowering combination of garlic spread and sweet onions.

While I didn’t agree with the acclaimed status of Westside Tavern’s cheeseburger, the restaurant showed that they were more than just a catchall for those on a date—definitely a good spot for a drink. My charitable mood may have had something to do with the Ducks downing the Kings in an exciting shootout, yet I wouldn’t rule out a repeat visit, even if the food failed to capture my heart, or stomach, the way Lukshon did. Back to the drawing board.

ChambolOn a night that would have made Allen Meadows proud, my tasting group concentrated its attention on the village reds of Burgundy’s Cotes de Nuits. In a private room at Wilshire Restaurant, we added an extra member to the roster, to cover a wider reach of appellations from Fixin to Nuits St. Georges.

Our price ceiling was raised, digging a little deeper into the wallets (Burgundy isn’t cheap), to procure a handful of bottles—seven official entries—to show off the marvelous spectrum of Pinot Noir from one of the most respected wine regions in the world.

Before the start our collective expectations fluttered above the roof. The seven brown-bags, numbered arbitrarily, had our respect before the first sip. We scrupulously studied every pour to see if we could place the esteemed villages of the Pinot Noirs. Off to a good start with each village bringing something unique to the table,  it wasn’t until the fourth bottle that I had actually picked a first favorite. Primly casting a garnet-ruby and emitting a developing perfume of cranberry, coffee and cheese curds. Pure on the tongue, a marvelously lithe structure that flashed a youthful bit of cranberry/cherry cocktail, with sumptuous burnt sugar and café au lait finish. It was elegant and supple; its attractive balance of soft (medium-fine) tannin and sweet ‘n savory flavors went the distance. When it was revealed, a bottle of 2007 Lignier-Michelot Premier Cru Cuvée Jules hailing from Chambolle-Musigny wore the motto of its tiny commune proudly—dubbed the queen of the Cotes de Nuits.

ClosThe regal Chambolle-Musigny was the odds-on favorite (for me), establishing an early lead while I enjoyed the remainder of the tasting order. I had little luck pinning the appellation to the Pinot Noir but it was terrific exposure. That was especially true of the last bottle, but what was clear, was that it was a notch above the rest. A garnet-orange vin—indicative of an older vintage—with a deep aroma of cranberry tea, shitake mushroom, white pepper, minerals, olives, and more undefinable to list. On the palate the wine was in full stride, Popeye-like muscle delivering a bruising, flavorful wallop that followed the developed nose on a long and memorable finish. Shedding the brown paper wrapper we were stunned to see a 1996 Labet & Dechelette Chateau de la Tour Clos de Vougeot Grand Cru—the largest Grand Cru site in the Cotes de Nuits—from a relatively small appellation of Vougeot beaming on the table. The quintessence of Pinot Noir.

Every wine made an argument for place and we couldn’t have ended on a better note. The spit cups were retired and we meditated on the Grand Cru and village reds as we paired them with truffle flat breads for the duration of the evening. In good company, with the hospitality of Chef Nyesha and Wilshire Restaurant, and the best wines we’ve tasted since the groups’ inception—Cotes de Nuits had made a lasting impression.

Rosado CanRaising the ante on Lunch, I went upscale in Culver City, giving a rare day-off to the red basket fries and behemoth burgers fare in favor of Asian verve. In a complex that boasts an embarrassment of riches—with regards to food and interior design—a posse of wine rep friends and I decided to reserve a table at Lukshon.

The restaurant is a brainchild of Sang Yoon—the same Chef that architected the Father’s Office burger (with no substitutions), one burger that perhaps has no equal in Los Angeles. Further down Helms Avenue from his satellite Father’s Office location was another first-rate eatery that tied together a mélange of Far East flavors in dishes that were pleasing to all senses. A curator’s care went into the beverage list that cleverly supported the breadth of the menu like Atlas and encouraged a wine-drinking excursion.

SeafoA Rosado of Listán Negra from Bodegas Los Bemejo out of the Canary Islands we hoped would enhance the robust quantity and variety of food: Brussels Sprouts, Duck Confit Spring Roll, Flank Steak Bao, Kurobuta Pork Ribs, Cantonese Chicken Soup, Grilled Squid Salad and finishing with the mouth-numbing Dandan Noodles. We were a hungry lot.

The dishes were staggered nicely at first, allowing time to dissect each course while we sipped on a cloudy (unfiltered) salmon colored Rosé that smacked of cantaloupe and ripe cherry freshness with dashes of cupboard spice and red flower petals for added complexity.

Carrot We opened with Cantonese chicken soup that showed how weak our chopstick-skills were, making a mess over our shared bowl. We made up for the clumsiness by devouring the second plate of duck confit spring rolls swiftly. The next two dishes, the Brussels sprouts and grilled squid salad arrived in tandem. I tend to not get terribly excited over salad, but the grilled squid course showed off its deep dimension, with tender pieces of seafood bathing in a chili sambal vinaigrette that were pitted against the crunch of celery, cucumber and a clean mint finish. It was refreshing and not to be missed… like the Brussels sprouts! The ribs slipped off the bone and were a perfect set up for the Bao that arrived next. Steamed buns pocketing strips of flank steak with kohlrabi and green bean like slaw smothering the meat, dressed in kimchi vinaigrette. We finished with the circus trick… Dandan noodles were recommended to go last in our rotation. The Sichuan dish incorporated Kurobuta pork with mustard greens, Sichuan peppercorns and peanuts, mixing in the components with a serious toss before we divvied it up. An unusual sensation transpired as I shoveled the oily peddler’s noodles down the hatch, a mouth-tingling reverberation occurred—a MILD blackout of the taste buds. I reached for the glassware to revive the palate. Hell of a trick!

A complimentary dessert—a petite wedge of carrot cake— punctuated our decadent lunch and superb Rosado pairing. My first sampling of Canary Islands wines was piquant, mellowing the spiciest elements of the lunch while not diminishing any of the explosiveness of the foods. It also emphasized how big the wine world actually is, as I sometimes get lost in just a small corner of it. The smattering of outstanding Asian fusion transcends any three, maybe four fancy-pants burgers I would’ve eaten in LA for its forty-dollar price tag. Lukshon is a clear-cut favorite to capture E.O.M. for April.

Pataille BourgVintage isn’t usually first on the list when I’m shopping wines, but there is no overstating its importance. A great growing season is the cherry on top after the requisite work has been done in the vineyards—however reactive. I culled a couple affordable older vintages, carefully searching closeout bins across SoCal to see just how long-lived a regional red wine—appellation Bourgogne contrôlée—could be.

2007 was a challenging vintage in the Côte d’Or, with early heat spells in spring and a cool summer that threatened rot and mildew—some of the best producers were forced to reduce volume, sorting out affected grapes for days before they pressed the best selections. With the mixed vintage report I found a lot of interesting closeouts from 2007.

One of the best values I found, under twenty dollars, was clad in a non-descript periwinkle label—2007 Domaine Sylvain Pataille Bourgogne. I drew out six ounces to rest comfortably on the kitchen countertop while I analyzed for color. As the red wine stretched its legs there was a clear ruby sheen with medium intensity and slight rim variation in the glass. After thirty minutes—about as long as I could patiently wait—I fetched the glass, sniffed, and found an effusive perfume of aardbei thee (Dutch strawberry tea), over new shoe leather and damp oak. It was simple, without the floral nuance, but making up with its surprising grip on primary red fruits that were steeped in earthy intrigue.

Not disappointed but was hardly wowed until the following night. The very same Pinot Noir had really made itself at home twenty four hours later, opening up, the flavors were deeper, the finish was longer, the body, more sultry. It had my attention.

The 2007 vintage was given a passing grade by critics and importers. That vintage provided me with the best experience and value overall—maybe they didn’t give bottles like this a second sip. It’s a shame that Domaine Sylvain Pataille cannot be found easily but that’s also what makes it special—it’s worth searching for.

Blanche du

A surfeit of microbreweries in Southern California would be an easy explanation for my developing interest in beer, but that would be incorrect. Not excited by the hopped out IPA’s that have seen many of my peers swooning over San Diego, rather a wine drinker first, I look to the Old World (Northern European style) to fill my glass.

One of the first beers that made me a convert was a Belgian white beer—never mind the producer, the recipe leans heavily on wheat enhanced by liberal dashes of coriander with bitter orange peel—the main seasonings—producing a crisp and harmonious beverage. Enticing from the first sip.

That style has been mimicked with great success and I don’t have to leave North America to find a great Continental domestic example, like the bottle of Blanche du Paradis that I recently enjoyed from Dieu Du Ciel Brewery in Quebec.

Tradition-minded and balanced from the start, the white beer showed lovely carbonation and a deep golden hue.  With an expressive perfume that flashed a peel’s worth of citrus, Indian spice and a slice of ontbijtkoek (breakfast cake), producing an aroma worth eating! Medium-bodied but full in character on the tongue, the blanche flaunted an ethereal medium-plus finish of orange zest, toasted cereal, delicate spice and baked bread.

Impressive! From a wine buyer’s perch this is relatively inexpensive (four dollars). No matter the price, I can confidently say is that it was satisfying and worth tasting again.

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