Nothing funny about feldspar

Seigneurs de Bergerac 2006, Bergerac Sec

From the label:

Varietal Blend: 50% Sauvignon, 10% Muscadelle, 40% Semillon.

Tasting Notes: The fresh, delicate nose is enhanced with aroma of citrus and peat. On the palate, these blend with soft spice notes. The abundance of fruit lingers on the finish, yielding a remarkably versatile wine that will pair well with a wide range of light dishes, and is perfect by itself.

My notes: It’s ok for a white wine. Light, not particularly sweet, but not too acidy (and not particularly sulphury, either, just a bit of the smell of hair salon).

I don’t remember where we got it or what we paid, but I think it was Trader Joes, and it would have been $10 or so (since that’s what we pay for most wine).

I would get it again, but not by the case. Plagioclase calls it a “good second white wine.” I’m unsure whether that means the second bottle in an evening, or a reasonable choice if one’s number one white is not available.

Orthoclase: Solid B.
Plagioclase: Solid B.

It’s Rosé season!

One of the benefits(?) of learning to drink wine late in life is that one does not go through the teen-age period of drinking any wine as long as it’s cheap. The wines available to the underaged are usually sweet and fruit-flavored (Boone’s Farm, anyone?). Given that I don’t have bad (hangover) associations with pink wine, I never had any prejudice against rosés when I started enjoying wine about 15 years ago.¹

Since we were living in Europe when we started drinking wine, we were exposed more to European wines (often the Albert Heijn special). European rosés for the European market are typically crisp and dry, and not particularly sweet, suitable for a late spring day when you don’t really want a wow! red wine.²

When we moved back to the US, many of the wines we had become familiar with were no longer available. So when it came to rosé season, we tried the US versions.

They sucked. Too sweet by a zillion, and you feel like you’re eating a spoonful of sugar, to boot.³ Therefore, we tend to drink only European rosés, primarily French, for some reason (though we have branched out on occasion).

Tonight we treated ourselves to a Tavel. Tavel wines are considered to be the crème of rosés. Since one’s enjoyment of wine is strictly a function of one’s preferences, that is a statement that can be argued with. However, I find Tavel to be one of my favorite types of rosés.

This one, Chateau de Trinquevedel 2007 did not disappoint. A darkish-pink color, an odor of minerals rather than sugar, smooth with just a bit of prickles on the sides of the tongue, it’s an ideal wine for the rosé skeptic who’s afraid they’re going to end up with white zinfandel.

It is expensive for a rosé. We paid about $20 (at a local wine merchant), while other French rosés go for $10 or less. But this is one of those wines that you want to have at least once in a summer, and you want to save it for some special occasion, say, you’ve just mown the lawn for the first time all year. (In other words, don’t wait too long to enjoy it — find an occasion and make it special.)

I don’t remember having this particular producer before, but that is of little consequence. I have no idea who makes the “best” Tavel, but I doubt you can go wrong with any of them.

1. Well into adulthood↩
2. I came late to white wine, which is apparently atypical.↩
3. And please, let’s not talk about “white” versions of any normally red wine.↩

From NPR:

Next Week’s Challenge: Rearrange the letters of “assembly hall” to spell three loud sounds.

I’m too tired to figure this out for myself, so I went to Wordsmith.org’s Anagram Server

I’m not entirely happy with the result, as I don’t think that one of the words is especially “loud” but it’s the most probable I could find with a couple of minutes of poking about.

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