surf and turf in the capital

Man, Madrid has some good food. Zamburiñas a la plancha at the Mercado de San Antón ...

... followed by the best tapa we had the whole week, langostinos alistados a la plancha, with a few glasses of albariño that ended up cheaper than drinking water. Love this country.

It took a bit of searching, but we did end up finding Sin Reservas in the end, just off the north east side of Parque del Retiro. Starting with a plate of jamón ibérico, of course ...

... and then onto the meats. A sirloin seared pink ...

... and a delicious braised beef cheek, served with an exquisitely simple pasta.

The details are what make this place. The beef was accompanied by 3 kinds of salt - the standard sea salt, along with a pink and black Himalayan rock salt.

And with the preceding dishes making such an impression, we had to have the tiramisu made in-house. Rich, balanced, going down like silk.

One sits on top, the other supports. And with tonight's meat-heavy dishes, the only wine that would do was a simple, dry, fresh Lambrusco. A fabulous few days eating in Madrid.

DF

the last 3 bottles, finally saying goodbye

1997 Fleury Extra Brut Champagne | AC

2007 Cantina dei Produttori Nebbiolo di Carema | DOC Carema
1995 Oddero Barolo | DOCG

It's been three weeks in this city, and yeah, things are coming together. After a few rough ones, today was a good day.

The last bit of it. The last three wines I had in Toronto, the last three in the cellar that I simply had to open and share with the people most important to me. Each bottle, an interesting background, but it was never intentional to drink them together. But as these things usually end up, sometimes the most transcendent wine experiences happen by a happy accident. I suppose above all, the wines were originally bought to celebrate something. And then things happened and I felt so strongly that I had nothing, absolutely nothing to celebrate. So on the last Friday before I left Toronto for a long, long time, it finally made sense to allow myself, for one night at least, to celebrate.

These last meals - nothing epic. But I did have a few more roast ducks, some braised sea cucumber. Good, comforting home food. My mother's cooking which I won't be able to have for the next while. Onto new things, but it's good to remember what's important. We started with the Fluery Extra Brut. Bought for Christmas a few years ago, but left because it seemed so inappropriate to be drinking Champagne when I was miserable with my job, with what to do next, with my life. And I figured the 1997, tightly wound, would do fine with a few more years horizontally. Opening with a soft, satisfied sigh, the wine was stunning. So structured, very expressive - lovely creaminess and vinosity, that tension running all the way through. A grand, dignified wine.

I was really excited to see the Carema on shelves. We see a good amount of Barolo, Barbaresco, even a bit of Nebbiolo di Langhe. But these smaller areas of the Langhe, no, either the Piedmontese drink it all themselves or the number-crunchers of the LCBO got in the way. There's only two major producers in Carema anyways - and they're amazing. People need to experience these exciting, original, historical wines. This one, a young 2007 Riserva was eye-opening, mind-blowing, and other similarly over-the-top superlatives. Light in colour, focused and just singing of flowers and earth, minerals and bright red fruit. Tensile and linear, very fine, angular tannins. So true to itself, so proudly of the countryside. An incredible learning experience. And ending with the 1995 Oddero, a bottle I picked up from New York's Chambers Street Wines. My prize bottle, a first experience with mature Barolo. This is Oddero's normale cuvée, which comes from two vineyards -Bricco Chiesa and Bricco Fiasco - vines with an average age of 35 to 50 years. No French oak, all traditional large, old casks. And as much as I wanted to love it, wanted to adore it ... the bottle was flawed. Slight heat damage, that oily, rubbery aroma. But, red fruit still there, fine tannins, silky texture. Developing a good sweetness on the palate as well. A good end to the night. 

Our flat in Barcelona has been having a lot of issues. No hot water for 12 days, filthy, poor finishings. But today, that all changed. We had our hot water fixed a few days ago, but today, our cleaning lady came for the first time. Everything's sparkling now, inspiring me to take a mop and glass cleaner to my own room. I can finally walk barefoot, yet another step closer to feeling at home here. Went to IKEA - in my head, a quick trip to pick up some things, which turned into a 5 hour session. But, did buy a lot of things that I'm excited to get using. A knife, peeler, a glass - pillows, shower curtains, and yes, a flower I've decided to name Miss Pink. Things are coming together now, and I've gotten a lot more familiar with Barcelona. Trying to balance between staying at home, going out to meet people, and wandering the city. Tougher than expected, and really, the shit hasn't even hit the fan yet. Visited a wine shop today, Vila Viniteca, considered the best shop in town. And it certainly is impressive. Picked up a few interesting things, including an Equipo Navajos "Florpower" ...

It's been three weeks.

DF

revelling in mediocrity

2010 Michele Chiarlo Le Orme | DOCG Barbera d'Asti Superiore

2001 Balbas Reserva | DO Ribera Del Duero

We all think we're special, that everything we touch is gold ... that our shit don't stink. But really, we're not. As one of our family friends say, we're all mostly ordinary - and happy being in our ordinary-ness. How many of us know someone who's truly a world-class talent, a true visionary? I don't know any, despite what motherfuckers want to post on Facebook. Then again, I didn't go to private school. Am I capable of something extraordinary? Chances are no. But we do the best with what gifts we're given, and make a good life for ourselves the best we can.

The wines are mediocre. And I'm a bit drunk right now, so fuck tasting notes. There is no character reminiscent of Barbera, of Ribera. They're both red wines ... if you get what I mean. And so we move on. Money down the drain, I suppose, but you never know until you commit to it, innit.

There's nothing wrong with mediocrity, with being happy with what you have. But for those of use with natural ambition to go out and really push and take risks ... we're never happy, or try not to be happy. Never settling, never taking a break, never this is what my life is going to be for the next 40 years. Fuck that. And fuck me if I ever start thinking like that. I was raised better - I'd like to think that I'm a better breed than that. It's funny, when you look at these people in possession of these old, pedigree-filled regions that instead resort to just doing well enough. You can do better, if not only for the sake of being. 

DF

falling short of expectations

2007 Pier Vila Riserva | DOCG Barbaresco 

It's important to have expectations. They're different than prejudices - expectations in wine are objective because they're based on experience, both your own and of established wine authorities. So it's absolutely fair when you buy a wine to expect certain things consistent with the label, vintage, varietal, region, price ...

And Barbaresco certainly carries certain expectations. I suppose I could go on and bash it, take a deuce on its head. But I know the feeling, and it isn't pleasant. So I'll just say that the Pier Vila tastes like red wine ... no more, no less.

I have the entire week off, and so far, it's been eventful. Much better than my last week off from work last month. Monday night, watching game 7 of the NBA Eastern Conference Finals with the group. Learned what a 'schooner' of beer is: mini pitchers, holding just under 2 pints each. After downing nearly 3 of them, well, you can imagine the carnage Tuesday morning. Stumbled downtown to go to Tap Phong Trading Company again in Chinatown, to pick up a paring knife. Lunch at a dirty pho joint (aren't all the good ones?), before we got out and walked to Yorkville. I needed a suit - I literally can't button the pants on my d'Urban suit anymore. I really loved it too. Bought in 2008 in Tokyo, at a made to measure sale. Even has D. Fang sewn in the left interior jacket pocket. But I found a suit today that fits beautifully, and was on sale. Double win.

Niagara today! Meeting with Wes Lowrey of Five Rows Craft Wine and Francois Morissette of Pearl Morissette for the first time - very excited to learn and see what they're doing. And of course, ending the day at Lailey Vineyards with Derek Barnett. If anything can clear my head and drag my ass out of this slump, it's a day in wine country, amidst the dirt and vines, acid and tannin ...

DF

Soave and pizza

2011 Monte Tondo | DOC Soave Classico

We made pizza at home a few weeks ago. It was good - we got stuff from a fancy grocery store (i.e. we didn't cook so much as assemble). Simple, with mushrooms and prosciutto, lots of cheese and basil. And with it, a bottle of Soave. Clean, fresh, and balanced. A simple wine for a simple meal.

I'm tired. And a little anxious. Been anxious for quite a while now. It hardly seems like it's been more than a year since I first started thinking about business school, but looking at the calendar the other day, I was shocked to realize that this time last year, I was about 5 weeks away from taking my GMAT and freaking the fk out. But I survived that, and all that followed during the summer and fall. I've been working on applications for a solid 8 months now. And the process is still ongoing. But I think the next 2 months will be big for me, when the table gets set and wine poured, figuratively speaking.

My mind's a bit of a mess right now ... all almost overwhelming. Almost. So I have to remind myself that all this work, this pain and suffering will be worth it in the end. Because I just want to be happy. Not asking for much. Just happiness, like Soave and pizza.

DF

harbouring no preconceptions

2011 Casali Borgo Del Boiardo Reggiano | DOC Lambrusco Rosato Secco

Can I share something with you? When a wine is said to be out of fashion ... 9 times out of 10, that's the wine you should be drinking. Lambrusco is one those things that people need to pay more attention to. I mean quality Lambrusco, not that sweet junk. This one, a fabulous sparkling rosé, with delicious berry aromas on a dry palate that finishes with a beautiful lift. Surprisingly firm and structured, staying drinkable and fresh.

That feeling of dryness can be so hard to find. The term dry wine can mean many things - and since it's not really regulated, it can often mean that the wine retains a bit of residual sugar, to help with the texture. So really, we're talking about the perception of dryness. But in the best instances, such as this bottle, a true dryness gives the wine structure, poise, and focus ... all elements of food-friendly, ageable wine. It's fascinating, because this dryness doesn't necessarily mean a mouthful of tannin. In this case, where we're dealing with a rosé sparkling wine (which won't have much tannin to begin with), we see how you can have a wine that is dry, but isn't tannic. A very fine balancing act, but when it all comes together, the result is wonderful, especially with food.

Not following trends, not following the mainstream - what am I, a hipster now? Am not. But if we consciously temper our preconceptions, maybe that's when we get really excited about wines. And maybe the night when we drank this, I was the only one around the table whose eyes lit up. But I'm working on it, this whole thing of encouraging (forcing) the people I eat/drink with to see as I see, taste as I taste.

DF

contradictions

2010 Marziano Abbona Rinaldi | DOC Barbera d'Alba

Is there a contradiction between wines we admire on an intellectual level, and wines that simply give us pleasure?

I love stinky country wines, I really do. These aromas and flavours used to be simply what the wines were - brettanomyces wasn't something to be scared of. And now most consumers (and winemakers) have not only forgotten how magical a bit of brett can be, but have come to see it as a deadly flaw. Well you shouldn't be afraid of a little stank in wine (or in life). Don't judge a stinky wine too soon - it might surprise you, delight you, and eventually win you over. 

It was fairly late at night, but I wanted to open this wine for a quick taste, in preparation for the next night's dinner. And dammit, it reeked. I would venture to say that this was by far the stinkiest wine I've ever nosed, simply rolling in fumes of manure and barnyard. But Abbona is one of my favourite Piedmontese producers, and I was certain all it needed was some time in the decanter. About 12 hours later, it began rewarding my patience - rich, savoury aromas, full of spice and cured meats. Dark but fresh, with fabulous concentration, harmony, and complexity already.

So yet again, these great producers teach us that even humble varietals yield wines of finesse and beauty. Wonderful, if you have the patience and understanding of how brett affects wine. Don't be afraid of the stink - decant it, and take a look again the next day. Just like how you should never trust a woman who can't fart in front of you. If she's hiding a basic bodily function, what other deep, dark, horrible secrets is she keeping from you?!

So no, wines that we love on a sensual and intellectual level don't have to be exclusive to each other. That would be a shame, wouldn't it. As Depardieu once said, I can live with very little, but I like to have a lot in my glass.

DF

Two Italians

Left: 2008 Sampietrana 1952 Riserva | DOC Brindisi | Puglia
Right: 2011 Pelassa Bricco Enrichetta | DOC Langhe

You know sometimes I think wine is a free for all. Sometimes I feel that they make these blends out of necessity instead of any kind of need to express terroir. These wines show zero character from each of its parts ... I suppose the point is to go for something simple, easy to understand, all the things that upwardly-mobile yuppies go for.

The Sampietrana is a blend of negroamaro and montepulciano, but who cares, it's soft and fruity and pleasant. The Pelassa is a blend of equal parts barbera and nebbiolo, but expresses little personality of either. Both the same thing really - solid red wines that don't require much from the drinker.

It's been a long, tiring few days. No rest even on the weekend. Just so much stuff to do around the house, with the cleaning, laundry ... and not even getting to the application work. Yes, still hard at it, a few more schools on the list to apply to, a few more weeks of pain and suffering. I've been drinking pretty hard lately. It's getting to be a problem, even for me. But shit, who wants to live forever.

DF

a wild, wild thing

2009 Poderi Colla Nebbiolo d'Alba 2009 | DOC

Man, nebbiolo gets me so excited. So many wines of the world lack consistency. Consistency in style, in quality, in character. There's a huge variation between expensive and cheap pinot noir, between expensive and cheap cabernet sauvignon, between expensive and cheap chardonnay ... and so on. And what bugs me most isn't so much a lack of drinkability, but rather a complete uniformity among cheap wines. Cheap cabernet tastes like cheap syrah tastes like cheap pinot tastes like cheap malbec. And that isn't - or rather shouldn't - be the point of wine. It's easy for this wino, an industry outsider, to say this, but wines should aspire to be much more than just drinkable.

Nebbiolo does this. Barolo and Barbaresco sit high on their thrones, but the crown of Piedmont is dotted with many, many smaller jewels. And the nebbiolo that comes out of these minor regions give great pleasure for the simple fact that they're honest, authentic, and full of character. Even the (relatively) less expensive bottlings show so much of the nebbiolo personality. This one, a simple nebbiolo of Alba, showing incredibly compact and tight, but over 2 days, opens up to become so expressive and perfumed. Earthy red fruits, lithe and tensile on the palate, if all a bit coarse. An unapologetically simple wine that introduces the magic of nebbiolo - its perfume, its rusticity, its structure, and its balance.

DF

back to pinot grigio!

2011 Fantinel Sant'helena Pinot Grigio | Doc Collio | Friuli

Pinot grigio is a victim of its own success. Just Google it ... it's one of the most popular wines worldwide, with no signs of slowing down. The most widely bought, most readily ordered wine in restaurants - and I think I know why.

It's the Coor's Light of wine.

Pinot grigio that does well, that the majority of wine-drinkers like, tastes like nothing. It's slightly fruity, fresh, and most importantly, clean. No off aromas, no weird flavours, just fruit and acid and alcohol. It quite simply tastes like NOTHING. And if I was an Italian, I'd be pissed about that. That people around the world think of this wine (and this region) as nothing more than a simple and predictable, cheap drink.

Sadly ... devastatingly ... sometimes with wine, commercial success spells its doom. Doom in the sense that the character that made it great in the first place - its truth - is lost, once the region is whored out as The Next Big Thing. By the way, for some of the best writing on Italian wine, please put Alfonso Cevola's blog, On the Wine Trail in Italy, on your list. I never thought much of pinot grigio. Never thought much of people who (loudly) screech about how it's their favourite wine, how they just LOVE ordering it with dinner. But should we blame them? This style of wine, no matter how insipid, is getting them to actually drink wines with the their meals. And hopefully, it's inspiring them to eventually look beyond watery, pointless wines, and into what true Italian wine is.

And this bottle reminded me that when producers are true to what they do, when they believe and are committed - humility breeds greatness. A pinot grigio from Collio, located in the north-east of Italy, on the border of Slovenia in Friuli-Venezia Giulia. The terroir is composed of layers of sandstone and loam rock that were once the ocean floor. The soils are impermeable so rainwater flows off their surface, producing little erosion and preventing standing water. This particular wine must be made with skin contact - there's a depth to the colour (almost coral/pink) and aroma that's so unique. It's so different from what I expected, all extract and density, the most amazing perfume. Slightly tropical, with intense minerality. A structured, well-extracted wine. Stunning, really, a long time since I last came across a wine that was so.

Proof that we all need to think twice about generalizations on a wine region. Even amidst all the murkiness and volume, there still remains jewels to be found.

DF

celebrating uniqueness instead of greatness

2008 La Sala Riserva | DOCG Chianti Classico

Visiting Paris in spring 2011 was a dream come true. Seeing with my own eyes the monuments and museums ... feeling the history and culture of the city for myself was an experience I'll never forget. Yet the one blemish on the trip was our day spent in Versailles. It was a disaster, from waiting nearly 2 hours to get tickets, to the long lineup snaking around the grounds just to get in (which we bypassed by sneaking in with a Chinese tourist group), to the ridiculously overpriced and wildly mediocre lunch.  Touring the palace and gardens felt like an obligation, like checking off that box of things to do in Paris so people don't ask that most idiotic question what do you mean you didn't go to Versailles?! Yes, I did, and it was a shithole. Gaudy and supremely tacky, reminding that for all their admirable qualities, the French can still reek of poor taste and dull imagination.

We don't want grandeur and pomp without substance, in wine and other things. Versailles is meant to show the splendor of the House of Bourbon, but it had no toilets. Residents emptied their chamber pots straight out their windows, marinating the palace grounds in a unique aroma. Same way as a wine that impresses, superficially, with oak and extract, fruit and alcohol. Upon closer inspection - with bottle age, with time in the glass - there is nothing. It falls apart because it lacks substance, it lacks that all-important quality that no amount of maquillage can imitate ... that energy and personality and character that only the true great wines of the world possess.

This Chianti, in this wino's opinion, is a good example of a wine that's shy at first, needing time and patience from the drinker to coax it out of its shell. With time however, it proves its worth. The vineyards of La Sala were once owned by the Medicis - a 100% sangiovese wine, the Riserva is aged in a combination of American and French barriques for 12 months, followed by an additional 6 months in bottle. Young and dark, brooding in the glass. Reticent aromas, with the structure clearly evident. A tightly coiled, compact wine, more sinewy than muscular, very tensile. Drunk over 3 days, it begins releasing those sangiovese perfumes of red berries, that slight dustiness, a distinct minerality. Its potential evident, the only requirement, time.

Like the palace covered in gold and mirrors but devoid of taste or character, avoid the wines that grip you in a hug before you even know its name. The easy, friendly ones can sometimes be the most dangerous ...

DF

for the righteous?

2008 Ruffino Serelle | DOC Vin Santo del Chianti

A Christian wine? Or a wine for Christians? And no, it's not just a sweet wine ... few other oxidative wines made from dehydrated grapes show so much character and excitement. Like all great things, defying generalizations and common perceptions.

I like serving sweet wines with dinner. With savoury dishes. Maybe some of the pleasure comes from just messing with my dining companions' preconceptions of what constitutes a table wine - the whole it's sweet and therefore must only be drunk with dessert. Or maybe I'm onto something, and sweet wines with the savoury creates fireworks on the palate. I can't tell you what you should be tasting, but the reference to dessert wines still drives me crazy. It just implies that the only time to be drinking these bottles is at the end of the meal right? When you're already stuffed and they bring out some sugary confection, do you really want to drink something that competes with that? What's the alternative? Plenty, in fact.

This wine is a great example of why 1) we should drink more sweet wine and 2) we should drink more sweet wine over dinner. The aromas are fabulous, all dried dates and mineral elements, at once honeyed yet fresh. Certainly an oxidative character, but the palate is where Vin Santo shines. Very balanced, with the acidity rising up on the finish. Tingly and tangy and just all that. Drink it with Chinese food, drink it with pork. I'm not trying to convince you so much as just stating a fact that yes, these wines shine brightest on the dinner table.

Wait, so if we're switching sweet wines to the middle of the meal, what do we drink with dessert, if we're having any? Sweets are unhealthy and overrated, because really, sweet is the most infantile of tastes. But if we're having dessert - most likely because we want to make our pretty lady happy - what do we drink? The tricky bit with sweet wine is simple, really. Simple because the one that is less sweet loses. So, sure bets? Sparkling wine - Champagne preferably - is always a winner. Gets you energized, makes you think of things you shouldn't be thinking about. Something lean, something fresh at the end of the meal, after the cheese and before the coffee. 

DF

a rainy, fall weekend

So amidst all the work and stress and all that, we still have to make some time for fun, right?  RIGHT??!!  Absolutely.  Even if there is a Frankenstorm heading up the East Coast, threatening $1 billion in damages.  We all need to keep a sense of humour about these things, after all.  So in between worrying about my next set of applications, my pretty lady and I ventured out in the rain and wind for some food and culture.

Friday night was spent experiencing the tasting menu at Yours Truly Restaurant on the Ossington strip, because tasting menus aren't just meals - no, ma chérie, it's an event. A few standouts for the evening were the raw scallops, beet salad, and seared halibut. To drink, a 2011 Ciù Ciù Oris | DOP Falerio dei Colli Ascolani, a blended white (Passerina, Pecorino, and Trebbiano) of Marche. The server really didn't have a clue what it was beyond oh, it's light and refreshing, so I went with my gut because, and how do I put this delicately, my gut is always right when it comes to wine. Fresh and vibrant, with a steely minerality and a beautiful acidic structure. Proof that with multi-course, multi-textured meals, young white wines with high acidity are always winners. I'm really beginning to feel these obscure Italian whites. There is a very confident chef working this menu here. Lots of simple plating, the basics really - protein, sauce, and (one) garnish. But it's the execution that makes the meal. The beats were beautifully fresh, with the most amazing concentrated sweetness. A thick chunk of halibut, cooked perfectly. Some courses (devilled eggs, cod) a bit of a head-scratcher in terms of conception and place in the menu. But once again, tasting menus are experiences - take it as an evening of adventure, where the dinner conversation with your lady is completely devoted to the food, and you should have a good time. In and out in a tidy 3 hours.

The Art Gallery of Ontario is showing an exhibit of the works of Frida Kahlo and Diego Rivera. So inspiring, and personally, I have a newfound appreciation for Frida's genius. She was an absolute master of capturing human expression, especially in the eyes. Rivera's murals are impressive and all, but as a history guy, knowing that he spent the entire years of the Mexican Revolution eating, drinking, and banging his way through Europe, only to return triumphantly as some of kind of socialist hero to the people is a bit of a joke. Frida's work is deeply personal, as if she's healing her trauma through her work. From her polio to her trolley accident, to even her miscarriage - she's so eloquent at depicting (personal) suffering, more intimately than I think any artist I've ever seen. And the way she paints eyes ... simply captivating. Left the gallery a bit quiet, a bit contemplative. Quick hangout at O&B Canteen at TIFF Lightbox for a coffee, before scurrying over to Khao San Road, one of those Thai dives off of King St. that all the locals seem to know. Packed and all, but the food was the real deal, and a bottle of Singha was a good way to end the day with my pretty lady.

This is going to be a busy week. Right. And once again, back to work. Hope everyone had a great weekend Hallowe'en partying.

DF

simply being what you are

2007 G.D. Vajra Albe | DOCG Barolo

What do we want most out of a wine?  Is it to taste good?  Puff up our ego, because drinking wine makes us look so classy-like?  It's not.  And if you think it is, I probably don't think much of you.  No . . . above all, we want wine to be honest.  Whether it's a simple, humble wine, or a grand wine of nobility, a wine has to be honest with itself.  After all, you can present a turd on the most expensive china, seasoned and garnished, but in the end, it's still a fucking turd.

In the sort of Burgundian model, Barolo producers produce various cuvées, starting with what is essentially a blended village wine, and then bottling their best vineyards separately.  These entry-level Barolos aren't particularly exciting, in that they're simply very solid introductions to the region, and to nebbiolo.  Usually less structured, less complex, but good wines to drink over dinner.  This one, the Vajra Albe, is that kind of wine.  Googling around, I found a pretty interesting piece written by Jeremy Parzen, about the meaning behind Albe, and a bit about this producer's other wines.  It's a good Barolo that doesn't promise too much, but there's a certain charm about its simplicity.  A bit coarse at the moment, but I'd be very happy with it in 3 years or so.  Big wine though, at 14.5% abv, and you feel every bit of it.

It's Sunday!  And wow, September is over.  I've been working on the applications for Berkeley Haas, which is the next deadline coming up.  Difficult - still stuck on the first essay question.  They ask you to write about a song that expresses who you are.  I have a clear idea of which song . . . it's just writing how it expresses me that's proving to be much, much more challenging.  This whole process is kind of showing me that really, my head can be so empty sometimes.

Anyways, next steps, because we always need to be thinking about next steps.  Three more schools to go, and although I'm struggling to focus, I'm still aiming to stick to my original choices.  No backup plan, no safety net, nowhere to go if this fails woooo!!  Shellfish is coming into season, which is very, very exciting.  Clams and oysters and abalone and crab - all sorts of goodies.  And now that it's getting chillier, time for more roasted and braised meats.  The wines?  We have to follow the season, so we'll be putting the rieslings away for a bit, and turning to something a bit heavier, a bit more warming.  Vintages just released their October Classics catalogue, and as usual the Burgundy/Bordeaux selection is shockingly expensive.  I mean, when did 2008 Pétrus start costing $1995?!  Some interesting Rioja though, which I'm keeping an eye on.  This summer (at least the beginning) was a good one for drinking.  Pulled a lot of bottles from the cellar that I've been holding onto, and really, every single one has lived up to expectations thus far.  Still have a few that I'm sitting on - some Bandol, some old Niagara cabernets, some Rioja.  Champagne standing by . . . for when there's something to celebrate.

DF

the humble, the understated

2010 Paolo Conterno Bricco | DOC Barbera d'Alba

When I can't afford to drink good wine, I try to go for the next best thing - find a good producer and look for their cheapest bottle.  Works like a charm, most of the time.

Humility is a virtue.  No, it might not necessarily make you stand out, but I believe that truly confident, successful people are also very humble, down-to-earth people.  I can share a personal story.  Many years ago, I met the great cellist Yo-Yo Ma.  He was giving a performance in Toronto, and I waited backstage for him, with his relatives.  Coming down the line, he was giving big hugs and back slaps to everyone, asking everyone how they were doing, and seeming to remember little details like, How was your vacation?  How's your niece doing?  Had any good wine recently?  When he finally got to me - a 12 year old kid, clearly star-struck - all I could manage was to ask for a photo and for him to sign my program.  And he actually took the time to talk to me, to ask what instrument I played, and if I'd be attending the opening of the Toronto Music Garden the next day.  It was his sincerity, and generosity that still stands out in my memory of that evening, nearly 15 years later.  One of the greatest living musicians in the world, if not THE greatest musician, was taking time to actually talk to me.  I mean, this was someone who performed for JFK, who's called upon for countless Inaugurations . . . President Obama even gave him the Presidential Medal of Freedom for chrissakes.  And yet he took the time to speak genuinely to a 12 year old boy who he didn't know, and really, didn't need to care for.

This single vineyard Barbera d'Alba from Paolo Conterno is an example that even the most humble varietals can yield fascinating wines.  At once coarse and wild, with lots of twiggy berry aromas.  Mineral and all that, but the most interesting thing was how it evolved over the 3 days I had it open.  Becoming more refined, more focused with air.  Tightening up a bit, but clearly showing an ageability as well as a great drinkability.  Barbera will never be mistaken for a fine wine - some varietals were never meant for more than simple table wines, and that's perfectly alright.  We need more of these wines, that give pleasure on the dinner table, and prove that true wine, like people, comes from a place of humility and understatement.

I continue to be a dumb fuck.  I tell my piano students all the time that when I criticize, it's to help them avoid the mistakes I made, and to get them to that point quicker and easier.  But of course, they don't listen.  And they shouldn't.  Everyone likes to give advice, but who really takes it.  I mean, really trusting the person critiquing you and adopting their experiences as your own.  So we make the same mistakes over and over again, but until you actually make that mistake and experience it for yourself . . . no, I'll have a hard time simply listening to what I should/shouldn't do.  So I let my students make mistakes, with the understanding that the important thing is to examine it, and learn from it.  My friends worry about me, and try to guide me on the straight and true path.  I've been so stressed lately from work and applying for school that I just don't know really how to deal with it.  Alcohol?  Running?  Punching things?!

The thing about me is that I, I makes mistakes but I never make the same mistake twice . . . I make it a hundred times.

- Marco Pierre White, Marco cooks for Albert Roux, 1989

DF

young and angry

2007 Gemma Barolo | DOCG

This one is a bit coarse, a bit angry. If fine single vineyard Barolo is a projection of nobility, then this is the brash 20 year old prince who's high off of their power and money. No sense of duty or purpose, but whatever, they were born right and therefore have the (divine) right to flip off the rest of the world.

Late last Friday, alone in the house, I opened a bottle of Barolo and drank in silence. It wasn't particularly refined, nor was it pleasurable, really. But we're not in this just for pleasure. The wine had life, had a pulse, had a personality. This is the basic cuvée, made from grapes from Serralunga d'Alba vineyards. A rough wine, needing time to unwind, but never really coming together. You get more character on the nose, that slight rose petal, the tarriness of nebbiolo, but one gets the sense (and the palate confirms this) that this will never be mistaken for a fine Barolo.

What can I say, my life is a bit of a shitstorm right now. Just getting tossed around and trying to hang on. Another late night for me last night, just writing and rewriting, and re-re-rewriting the same goddamn passage. And with no guarantee that my unqualified ass will even have a shot of getting into these schools . . . what am I doing again?! What can I say, even when I'm sober, I don't know which way's up sometimes.

DF

at the foot of the mountains

2010 Terredora Loggia Della Serra | DOCG Greco di Tufo

2011 Michele Chiarlo Le Marne | DOCG Gavi

Yes, so we're going to be actively searching for unfamiliar wines to be tasting (and learning about) right? Right. Like many others, my first experience with Italian whites was pinot grigio. The sort of wine for people who drink wine to look good. I've been hearing a lot about how there are a growing number of producers who are taking pinot grigio to the next level, but unfortunately, we seldom see good examples (in Ontario at least). Glorified dishwater is all it is, most of what we see here. Santa Margherita for fuck's sake.

But moving on; obscure Italian whites are kind of my thing now. Completely original, one-off wines that are unlike any other white wines in the world. You get a great sense of tradition with these bottles: the grecos, the pecorinos, the falanghinas, the corteses. Yet in the same sniff of the glass, there's a sense of modernity; the wines have a story to tell, and belong on the world stage. They have a terroir profile that is unlike anything else, with an elegance and drinkability that makes them brilliant on the dinner table. And we add two more examples here. The Greco di Tufo, lots of herbal, vegetal aromas, with subtle citrus fruit behind it all. And one of my favourite Italian producers, Michele Chiarlo, with a winner of a wine that in my opinion, matches favourably against any white Burgundy twice as expensive. From Gavi in Piedmont, the cortese grape makes wines of fabulous elegance and depth - just a wine that glides on your palate, with layers and layers of complexity.

Modernity can be such a tricky balance, but the more of these Italian country wines I drink, the more I'm excited for the (Italian white) category as a whole. Moving forward, without forgetting where you came from. Fresh, vibrant, balanced, and utterly unique . . . that's what I would call a great wine.

DF

a few things I've been drinking

2009 Giacosa Fratelli Nebbiolo d'Alba | DOC Piedmont

2009 A to Z Wineworks Pinot Noir | Oregon

2010 First Press Chardonnay | Napa Valley

2009 Caves De Gigondas Le Dit De La Clapassière Séguret | AC Côtes Du Rhône Villages

All I ever want to do is drink interesting things. I'm just a simple guy - no matter how long I've been a North American, I'm still an immigrant. And I'm ok with the fact that I'll have very limited opportunities to taste rare, great wines. My parents taught me the importance of financial planning from a very young age - the sort of spend a dollar like it's ten kind of idea. We're always saving you see . . . sometimes for no particular reason except to have money ready when things go to shit. New immigrants (from China at least) don't go through that thought process, but for those of us who came over in the late 80's, it's a deeply ingrained habit that you save, save, save. It must be nice to be new immigrants, living off your parents money, doing fuck all. We know a lot of people who've sent their kids over to North America to do 'school' - heavy sarcasm, deep eye-roll - somehow equating success as getting married and having kids ASAP. What the fuck kind of world are we creating when spoiled, juvenile brats are having kids themselves before the age of 25? They go through the motions at school, barely get their degrees (if at all), and have no intention of getting proper jobs. They don't even need to raise their own kids, because of course, mom and dad will take care of living expenses and raise the kids for you, while you sleep until noon and hang out with your other rich, useless friends.

Useless people that's all it is. I sound increasingly bitter. This is because whenever I return to Shanghai, it's as if I'm the failure for not being married, not having a kid, not being able to buy my own house. Are you fucking kidding me? I don't want to be anything like you motherfuckers. If anything, I'll go out of my way to avoid turning into you, because there's no pride in gaining anything you haven't earned yourself.

All I want is to drink interesting things.

I've cut my wine budget significantly. I figure I'd rather drink a case of $13-20 bottles a month, than drink 2 or 3 bottles that fit the definition of what people think good wines are. Whatever the fuck that means. I'm cool with it. Because we all know Barolo is a fabulous wine - it'll be a great experience, but the knowledge you gain from it is incremental. It's the more obscure, humble wines that give a much more meaningful lesson. These are some of the wines I've been drinking recently.

So a downgrade from Barolo to a nebbiolo d'Alba, though from a very good, traditionally-minded producer. The Giacosa Fratelli, flawed as all hell with volatile acidity (comes off as sharp and vinegar-y, as well as used frying oil), but with considerable old country charm. Good nebbiolo character, ornery but give it some time - it proves that there's as much beauty in imperfection as there is in perfection. The A to Z pinot noir, admittedly a mistake . . . I had originally planned on picking up their chardonnay. I've never made that mistake before, but I could have sworn it looked lighter in colour when I bought it. A simple, clean, pure pinot noir. See what I was referring to, when I spoke about charm? These 'correct' wines simply reflect the bias of the winemakers, who are so terrified of anything un-sterile that they end up robbing much of the character of the wine. You can make clean, sterile wine anywhere. But character . . . ay, that's where so many producers take a stumble.

Napa Valley chardonnay fits a very specific profile. Do we really expect anything other than big, oaky, alcoholic wines from there? One does get the sense that they're dialing it back, at least compared to 10 years ago. Interestingly enough, you only get that really obvious, really fake kind of wine in the upper price ranges, the sort of wines Parker gives 95+ to. There's quite a bit of balance to be found in wines towards the lower end, which is why I had to taste the Wine Press Chardonnay. Moderate levels alcohol at about 13% abv and fresh with great balance. Creamy oak, but it's all offset by lots of lemon citrus aromas, great amounts of acid and extract. Some herbal aromas too, to keep it all interesting. A fabulous find, and because it says Napa on the label, people will think you balled out for it.

I haven't drunk Rhône wines in a long time. I'm reminded that these are some of the wines that first impacted me deeply, when I first started drinking. It just seems that (on the low end at least), these wines have become more homogenized in taste. They've been made higher in alchol, with more overripe, macerated fruit, and with softer textures. Almost the exact opposite of the Rhônes I first started drinking - those wines were massively structured and masculine, yet showing incredibly fresh, earthy aromas. Wild wines. This bottle, the Caves De Gigondas Le Dit De La Clapassière, from the village of Séguret, reminds me more of that traditional style. It has the ripe fruits and structure, yes, but also of that freshness good red wines need. There's also this great stemmy quality I associate with country wines.

I have a thing about non-conformists. We need to celebrate these wines, like we celebrate people who refuse to take the easy way. Just as noble and grand wines come from vines who struggle to survive, so do great people. I'll probably piss off a lot of people for writing this. But at least I know how to wipe my own ass.

All I want to do is drink interesting things.

DF

a glass and a nibble

2010 Elio Filippino Arneis | DOC Langhe

I finally have time to watch my beloved basketball, and what great timing, now with the conference finals going strong. I think this is one of the last times we'll see San Antonio's old guard so dominant. Oklahoma City is going to give them some problems with that post defence, but I'd go with a Spurs/Heat Finals.

Italian whites are interesting, but hardly grand wines. But Arneis is special. It has these wonderful floral aromas, with minerality to give it structure. I love the texture on these wines, this elegant, weighty feel on the palate, much like what nebbiolo gives you. Really special, and what it lacks in outright fruit, it more than makes up for in character. And with the right Shanghai street vendor nuts and pumpkin seeds, a great night of NBA playoff action. Go Spurs go!!

DF

unwavering, uncomprising

2008 Giacomo Mori | DOCG Chianti

What does it mean to be traditional? For instance, what does it mean that a wine was 'traditionally-made'? I have a suspicion that it's once again a cheap generalization that preys on a consumer's ignorance to sell wine, but let's humour them for a bit.

Antonio Galloni, who covers Italian wines for the Wine Advocate, wrote that Readers who enjoy traditionally made wines will flip out over Mori’s Chianti in 2008. But what is a traditional Chianti? Is there such thing anymore? Wine, more than anything, is an expression of traditions and heritage, but like all things, its only constant is change. As the great Paul Pontallier (estate manager of Château Margaux) says, with every gesture, there is a margin of progress. Would the winemaker who made Giacomo Mori's first vintage recognize today's wine? Perhaps. But maybe we need to think more carefully before we assign the word traditional to a wine.

The wine was wonderful. Not the most elegant, nor the most impactful, but pure and linear, showing great varietal character. It's the humility of the wine that's most striking . . . singing of sangiovese that could come from nowhere else in the world but this particular place in this particular country.

I'm fucking exhausted.

No one said it would be easy, but I'm getting my ass handed to me by the GMAT material. The good news is that I've finished reading all the books. Now the real work begins. Exam booked for the end of May, so there is no way out of it now. I learned the hard way that (a few) shots of bourbon before going to bed doesn't make you sleep better. Quite the opposite in fact - that was one of the most fitful nights of sleep I've ever had. But the bourbon was, surprisingly, delicious. What better way to learn about something than just to drink right?

DF