Nothing funny about feldspar

Last night we took refuge from the acidic whites and rosés of spring by opening a bottle of Yalumba Barossa 95% Shiraz + 5% Viognier 2005 from Australia (World Market, $12.75 on sale).

I don’t know if it was the wine itself, or the contrast with what we had been drinking, but it was good. Smooth and fruity, I felt like I was eating chocolate pudding after flirting with lemon for so long.

Unfortunately, since it was on sale, it may no longer be available (World Market tends to discount when the brand/year is almost gone.) but if I see it, I’ll get more. Then I’ll be able to test if it really is the wine.

Orthoclase: A
Plagioclae: A

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.↩

Nerello del Bastardo, Vino da Tavola Rosso
Italian Dry Red Table Wine
Vintage 2001

Trader Joe’s, $7

The label reads:

Nerello del Bastardo can only be described as a Super Piedmontese wine invented purely for fun. When winemakers in Piemonte wish to make a Barolo or Barbaresco, the laws governing these wines only allow a certain quantity after aging (minimum 4 years) to be classified Barolo or Barbaresco D.O.C.G.

I Superi (the excess) can only be sold as a table wine even though the wines are practically the same. Master winemark; Marco Dal Blanco and Italian Wine Guru; Dr. Zuliani Flavo camw up with this blend af aged wines adding just a touch of something secret.

This creation is a breakthrough in winemaking. One might say this is the illegitimate child of Barolo and Barbaresco hence the name; Nerello del Bastardo meaning; The Bastards Nerello. [No, really?--Ed.]

This full-bodied red wine is a perfect compiment to game, red meat past a rich cheese or even on its own.

We got this on spec because it was next to the Barolo (decent for $15 — must’ve been an awful year). We’ve always liked Nebbiolo, but it is really hard to find here — it’s very fragile.

It’s dry, not particularly soft, moderately complex. Not particularly fruity. We served it with Chile Verde, because that’s what we had, and it managed to stand up to the spice. It’s much nicer now that I’m having it on it’s own, however. All in all, an excellent value if you’ve got a TJ’s near you.

Orthoclase: A
Plagioclase: A

Last night, a dreary cold rainy Sunday, we opened a bottle of

“Sexto”
Terra Alta
Denominació D’Origen
2004 Spain

($8.24 on sale)

The label says it’s made of Grenache 33%, Carignan 30%, Tempranillo 20%, Lledoner Pelut Noir 6%, Carbernet Sauvignon 6%, Syrah 5%.

What the heck is “Lledoner Pelut Noir”? Apparently, it’s a “cousin of grenache” and it only appears in this wine.

I found this to be very tasty. Full, rich, and very, very tannic. Really. Like eating a sponge — my mouth went dry immediately. This isn’t necessarily a bad thing. It was a really nice wine to drink on a dreary day. It would probably be too much on a warm day like today, but yesterday we drank it all up yum.

I would try to get it again — assuming it wasn’t on special because it’s being discontinued…

Plagioclase thought it was more sour than dry, but I noticed he had his fair share.

Orthoclase: A
Plagioclase: (undetermined)