but you ain't bonafide

There is no virtue in rejection.

I'm the kind of fellow who genuinely enjoys drinking. Sure, we aspire to be connoisseurs (whatever that means) and to feel like we're adequately appreciating a bottle that someone has poured their heart and soul into (again, whatever that means), but in the end, if we're really being honest with ourselves, we just like to drink. There's nothing wrong with that - it's not alcoholism - but I just like getting tipsy. Occasionally drunk. Never enough to be sick, but enough to be a more fun version of me. A boozy DF is the best DF.

I've had this conversation many times with IESE friends. About how fussiness in wine kills all sense of enjoyment and pleasure. For fuck's sake, stop worrying about how you look, how you're supposed to hold a glass, how you're supposed to taste, how you're supposed to talk about wine. What happened to just drinking the goddamn glass and enjoying yourself? What happened to the first function of wine, which is to bring people together, make conversation flow, and ultimately, to get you laid? I blame wine hipsters and wannabes. And Obama. If there's anything that I've accomplished with the IESE Wine & Spirits Club, if there's anything good to come out of all that boozing, it's this - that my friends, previously wine-drinkers or not, have the confidence to drink and enjoy wine on their own terms, without all the bullshit that's infected this beautiful, beautiful drink.

This is a cool bottle. Me and Shuji (travel buddies for life) spent Christmas of 2014 in Lisbon, and to thank our hosts, we picked up this bottle of 1983 Kopke Colheita Port when we visited the house in Oporto. I drink a lot of port, which gave me the illusion that I understood it. In its natural context - in Portugal, with a Portuguese family - I learned how port is really drunk. As a digestivo, and only in small amounts. And so with these new experiences, your perspective broadens, and you bring something back home with you that furthers your understanding.

But let's be clear - there is no virtue in rejection. I got another rejection today, from a very large multinational consumer goods company. A very nice rejection, mind you. They had the courtesy to call me over the phone and share some specific feedback about my interview. But a rejection, nevertheless. I really wanted this job, but apparently, I gave canned answers and came across as, in her words, fake. There goes my shot at returning to Europe. I refuse to accept that rejection is a necessary step on this path, that there is something to be gleaned from all this - that everyone has to go through it, or any other bullshit cliché. Interviews are such superficial ways to understand a person. Do we still seriously believe that we don't all game interviews, that we prepare for the same behavioural type questions and rehearse juiced up answers over and over again? What is there to be learned from that? What takeaway do we get from a rejection from this type of process? I'm just incredibly frustrated right now. But I'm sick and tired of hearing that all this is necessary. There is no fucking virtue in rejection.

The wine is nice though. The wino drinking it? Apparently not so bonafide.

DF

the demi-bouteille of Château Fourcas Hosten

On my last evening in Bordeaux, I wanted something rustic. That old-school French cooking. I found it at La Tupina.

Wood burning grill ... game meat hanging ... thick tablecloths and heavy cutlery. I really, really love France. And French people, for that matter. It's the little things they do, that marks them so differently than the Spanish, or at least the Catalans. I don't want to be picking on them, but for example - a Spaniard restaurant will always assume you speak no Spanish, and give you an English menu. They won't care if you (try to) speak Spanish, nor will they deign to attempt any English. I've even had people laugh at me for my admittedly poor castellano. The French, in contrast, welcome you trying to speak in their language - they appreciate the effort. Why is that? We're all just trying our best, aren't we? I'm in your country, I want to at least try to learn a bit of your language, not fumble around with poorly translated English menu items.

We, however, shouldn't generalize. After all, when we are in a foreign country, we have an obligation to understand and respect local customs and traditions. If the Spanish choose to act un-civil and boorish to visitors, well, that's their prerogative. The staff of La Tupina were a delight, recommending me to start with the classics: frog legs mounted on a parsley and garlic sauce, followed by grilled duck breast. All I had to think about was what to drink.

2004 Château Fourcas Hosten, AC Listrac-Médoc. I know, I know. A half-bottle?! In my defense, I just finished a long day driving around Sauternes, and I had an early appointment the next morning at Château de Fargues with Philippe de Lur Saluces - not the kind of rendezvous one shows up tardy and disheveled for. So I contented myself with a simple red Bordeaux, just approaching maturity. This wine was a joy. Lustrous red in colour, fully open aromas - dark fruit, minerally and fresh. Tight-knit tannins showing its as yet unreached plateau, but with an already elegant and fine texture. Utterly satisfying, and proving yet again that 2004 is a vintage that will dance at 20 years of age.

It's the little things that matter during this job search too. At the risk of sounding boorish myself, it's important to remind yet and again that it's my duty - my obligation - to stay true to the things I gained during the MBA, and its value. It's hard, most definitely. But as even this half-bottle of simple Bordeaux showed, there's a character in all of us that takes just the right circumstances to reveal itself.

What a magnificent 4 days in Bordeaux.

DF

some really cool stuff. like real cool.

The wine scene in Barcelona can be pretty cool, if you know where to look. One shop that's a favourite of mine is Vila Viniteca - well worth the journey to El Born. Last summer, for dinner at a friend's, I wanted to bring some interesting bottles. Whether we would like them or not was sort of not the point. We just wanted to drink some cool shit. This one, the Battliu de Sort Biu Blanc from the Costers del Segre DO, was certainly one of them. A blanc de noirs made from 100% pinot noir, all those aromatic, floral pinot notes in a bone dry, textural style.

Buying French wine in Catalunya? Maybe not a great idea. But this, I couldn't pass. For about 20€, a taste of the earth, the minerals, the sublime elegance of even the most simple country wine.

Mencía, particularly from Riberia Sacra, was one of the great discoveries I made in Spain. What a wine, what a DO. Lithe, mineral, tension filled wines that I wish I could have more of in my cellar.

A gift from a friend who visited Croatia. Sadly, on my list of places I was not able to go to during my time in Europe. Fresh, bright wines that are sublime with grilled meats.

Long weekend here in Canada, as we ease into August. I'm trying not to be demoralized as I continue job-hunting ... trying to stay positive. You have in your head all these great things to do, great contributions to make now that I've earned my MBA. I just want a chance to prove myself - now I need someone willing to take me on.

DF

L'Anima del Vi, delivering truth in wine

T: 2007 Coll de Sabater | DO Conca de Barberà

B: 2012 Lapierre Morgon

It's been a rough week.

There was a wine trade show last week in Düsseldorf called Prowein. I really wanted to go. And if I went, I would have most likely taken a Germanwings flight. I've flown with them before. It's a good airline, and although we are very used to these types of carriers here in Europe, I think it needs to be made clear for my fellow N. Americans that low cost carriers are in fact extremely safe, and (generally) very pleasant to fly with. As more details come out, this whole event becomes more and more unspeakably horrific. It hits close to home, and not because of me - because of the many German classmates I have, who I know have been affected by what happened. 

Monday's news hit like a thunderbolt. On Thursday I was hit by an earthquake. My neighbour (from back home) of nearly 20 years, has been given 6 months to live. He beat cancer once. It came back last summer, and now the doctors have stopped treatment. I don't know what to think. I don't know what to say. He is a good and kind man and doesn't deserve this.

With so much death and suffering around ... I can't handle it. I'd like nothing more than to get out of Barcelona for a few days, go to the beach, get some food, some good drinks ... but that doesn't make this past week make any more sense to me. No enlightenment possible, why these things happen. So I suppose we keep going, keep putting our heads down and charging forward. The only way to go.

L'Anima del Vi is one of my favourite wine places in the world. Yes. Todo el mundo. It's not particularly cozy, it's not totally comfortable, but it's totally honest, and totally unique. The man in the middle of it all? One of the greatest people in wine I've ever met, and someone I'm proud to consider a friend - even if we don't sometimes understand each other. The homie, Benoît, a Frenchman in Spain, bringing in some of the shining lights of biodynamic and natural wine, from his homeland and his adopted country. A while back, when my brother was visiting me over the summer, I took him here, for one boozy evening. We started with a Spanish wine, the Coll de Sabater, a Bordeaux style blend that was at once concentrated and rich, yet harmonious and pure. And then I had to show him the Lapierre Morgon (and share a few glasses with Benoît). Such grace and precision, reminding me why my life will be devoted to this magical, ethereal, mysterious nectar.

It's been a rough week. None of it makes sense. There are no words of comfort, no solace we can find. So for me, I go back and find inspiration in the things that mean the world to me. There is still good in this world, I'm sure of it. Just a little hard to see at this moment.

DF

the national palate

Top: 2012 PdM Moncayo Garnacha & Syrah | DO Campo de Borja

Middle: 2010 Borsao Berola | DO Campo de Borja

Bottom: 2009 Borsao Reserva | DO Campo de Borja

Another guy moved into the flat here in Zaragoza. Full house now at four people. Friday night, I hear a knock on my door - opening it, I see an unfamiliar face. I suppose he wants to introduce himself, but no, he wanted to let me know that I needed to take my chicken out of the oven so he could bake his frozen pizza. Nice to meet you too brah. This morning, I run into him in the kitchen. I say 'sup to him. No answer. Being a polite Canadian, I give him the benefit of the doubt - I shouldn't be talking slang to a vato, so I say 'good morning'. Now he's full on ignoring me, and strutting back to his room like he has an enlarged left testicle. Well fuck you too asshole. 

Back in July, once I knew that I'd be coming to Zaragoza for this project, I wanted to know a bit more about the wines coming out of Aragon. Outside of a few errant bottles of Cariñena, my knowledge and experience of the DO's here was pretty much zero. So I wanted to start with Campo de Borja - El Corte Ingles carried a decent range. I found out later that the company I'm interning with here actually owns Pagos del Moncayo winery, but that's neither here nor there. And so I started drinking, and for a moment, I really couldn't figure it out, but suddenly, a good 8 weeks later, it's hit me what I was trying to articulate. The wines aren't boring - they're simply Spanish.

There's a national palate at work here, I'm convinced. These wines, like so many other Spanish wines from all over the country, just taste the same. At this price range at least, the archetype is so obvious it's almost a bit sinister ... like they're all having a laugh, and I'm the only one who doesn't get it. That slightly overripe, candied fruit, big alcohol, soft, limp structure. Is that simply this wino's perception? Of course it is. What is soft and overdone to me is someone else's rich and delicious. Ok. We certainly have different opinions on these things, but the wines being produced in this country, at this level, taste the same. And that's a bit troubling. As a whole, the overall quality of Spanish wines has improved greatly - but is this where this quality revolution is leading? Monotonous and formulaic wines, all in the name of consistency? If that's the case, it's worse than troubling ... this is flat-out depressing.

But perhaps it's me who's not getting it. The cultural element here - how Spanish people interact with wine - maybe necessitates all that. Wine isn't the be all end all here, as much of the French or Italians do. Wine is simply a piece of the Spanish food and drink culture - as part of a meal, it's simply something to go after the aperitivo and before the cocktails. So they don't need the wines to have complexity, to be nuanced, to have delicacy. Big and obvious flavours seem the way to go - much like the cuisine. 

So don't get too offended when people are rude and the wines boring. Maybe I'm the odd one out.

DF

for the love of drinking

I love to drink. No two ways about it. I like the social aspect of drinking, the ritual of picking out the right bottle, that anticipation leading up to the first sip ... damn I love drinking. Why is that such a bad thing to admit? It's a bit logical, isn't it, for someone who works in the wine trade to also enjoy a few glasses? Apparently not so. Apparently not. People taste all the time now, for work. Living in Spain for a year has shown me the joys of drinking, the true pleasure one gets from the bottle. Binge drinking is a uniquely North American problem because we can't drink during the work week, and we have to organize nights out around designated drivers and early closing times, so nights out always dictate inhaling as much alcohol as you can in 3 hours. Like I said up on that rooftop at Calatrava, I'm never coming back.

Spent a weekend doing touristy things in Zaragoza. Saw the Catedral-Basílica de Nuestra Señora del Pilar, as well as the Catedral del Salvador ... both beautiful, grand monuments to the power of organized religion. At El Pilar, there's actually a little inset cut into one of the columns showing the purported pillar that was graced by the Virgin ... people actually bend down to kiss it. Full on lips. I've learned, after visiting all these churches across the country, that the best, non-offensive, course of action is to stand to the side and try not to make a face. Fascinating though, how physical relics, authentic or not, hold so much meaning to people. Went for a run to Parque Grande José Antonio Labordeta, all the way up these zigzagging stairs and around back down, doing my best Rocky impression. Man it's hot (and dry) here. Better to stay inside and drink.

Two weeks left! Lots of things floating around in my head on how to put together what has turned out to be a consulting project for this company. Oh shit, right, the wines. The Ojo de Liebre, a tempranillo from DO Somontanod. The PdM Moncayo from Pagos del Moncayo winery in Campo de Borja. And the Cariñena, with a decent amount of age considering what I paid for it (5€!!). And a shitload of beer. Good stuff. All good drinks.

DF

from barrel to bottle, love from LCJ

2011 Le Clos Jordanne Village Reserve Pinot Noir | VQA Niagara Peninsula

Right. I'm way behind, so let's get to it.

To drink alongside the Les Insouciantes, a vinous taste of home. I was asked what I wanted from back home in Toronto, and well, I am what I am so I asked for this. Just released, with the fingerprints of Sébastien Jacquey all over it. Pure and vibrant, with that tell-tale earthy/stemmy quality. A bit more depth, plenty of minerality, and fabulous texture. Will be wonderful and even more elegant with some bottle age.

So I wrapped up the Oliver Conti project and have moved onto the next. Working on Oliver Conti was a greta introduction to the Spanish wine industry (from the perspective of a small bodega), and this new project will teach me things on a larger scale. I've moved to the town of Zaragoza, almost exactly halfway between Barcelona and Madrid. Doing a sales and marketing strategy project for a wine exporter, selling wines internationally, with a focus on the US, UK, and German markets. Exciting, and plenty more to learn in the few short weeks I have here.

Back to LCJ. I'm not supposed to like these wineries. I'm not supposed to like these joint ventures who come in with shitloads of money and proceed to make claims about how they're ready to make the best wine in the region, as if discounting all other efforts to date. But man, the first time I tasted, way, way, way back ... when we were still just kids in the middle of our undergrad ... I just had that feeling. That indescribable feeling that, damn, maybe they're doing something special here. And through the years that I've been fortunate enough to taste these wines, both in cask and bottle, this feeling keeps confirming itself. That it's possible, absolutely possible, for Niagara to have a unique character, and for that character to be express itself through pinot noir. I'm reminded of this as I'm back in Barcelona, the office closed for a week of mid-August vacations. I'm reminded why I want to make this my life, why it's something more than a love ... an obsession really. Whether we're in the wine trade, media, whatever; we can't forget that, forget what the point of this all is. The beauty, tradition, history, and character of a place and time, captured in a bottle.

DF

a little birdy

2011 Domaine Didier Grappe Les Insouciantes | AC Côtes du Jura

Something new, something to challenge what you think you know.

We can think all these things when we're in the thick of it, when emotions are raging ... but the only people in this world who are selfless in our lives, who give everything ... the only people are our parents. Not our friends, not our lovers, not even our relatives. Being an immigrant, and now, a student studying abroad - our notions of what 'family' is may be different from what tradition dictates. How much does being 'blood' count for? As this wino sees it, not much. Not much. Family isn't an obligation, isn't an absolute ... my family is the ones who I love the most, who've been there for me, who really know DF. And that's more than I can say for blood.

With the steak, I went back to France. A taste of home, a taste of what I know best. And more than just a French wine, it was a natural, out of the Jura. Pinot noir, trousseau, and poulsard. Benoit, of L'Anima del Vi, is a natural wine savant. Genius really, and truly an inspiration - someone to go see when your love of wine needs some re-affirmation, some inspiration. He brings this in, and while I'm surrounded by vinous riches in Spain, these bottles are still a rarity. Fresh, pure, mineral, exciting - all those adjectives that confirm why you want to make this your life. The second day, develops in the most amazing way, like it was two different wines. A nuttiness, a savoury peanut-y, almond-y note on both nose and palate that was so tangible, so real. Sweaty and red in the face.

Family. I suppose I'm a bit cold at first, but when I get to know a person, when we have trust - we fam, cuz. And like these naturals, as outsiders, maybe we have to look outside what we think are those normal, neat boxed definitions, and just trust instincts, feelings, emotions. The reckless? No. We create our own destiny.

DF

Oliver Conti - the case about a dream

I feel incredibly privileged this summer to be working on two projects. I said from the start that I wouldn't be doing an internship just because right ... well, sometimes patience and stubbornness pays off. It took me until damn near the end of the term, but I did find two projects that fit exactly what I was looking for, and that I could genuinely be excited about. The first one is writing a business case for IESE about a winery in the north of Catalunya, by the French border in a small village called Capmany. Oliver Conti has been in business for 20 years in the DO Empordà, crafting wines from French varietals and pushing for quality in a region that is virtually unknown, even in Spain. The second project will begin in a few weeks, and will be in Zaragoza. But let's talk about this one first.

The wine business is tough, and ever so apparent when you begin seeing it through the perspective of the winery. Margins are thin, negotiating power is tiny ... what is a small producer to do? More marketing/brand-building? But how do you afford it? Go international? But how do you attract distributors who've never heard of the Empordà? Tough. Real tough here.

I visited Oliver Conti last week. What a beautiful place. Right at the foot of the Pyrenees, all sun, wine, and wildness. There is a northernly wind that always blows - it was particularly vicious the day we were there. That's why all of OC's vineyards are planted with a northern exposition, to protect the vines from simply being blown over. A huge wildfire ripped through the region in 2012. You can still see the blackened trees, with entire tracts of pine forests wiped out. OC lost 25% of their vineyards. Nature gives and with the same hand, takes away. They have about 20 hectares of vineyards planted, with high density. For whites, they plant gewürztraminer, muscat, and sauvignon blanc. For reds, pinot noir, cabernet franc, cabernet sauvignon, merlot, and marselan (a cross of cabernet sauvignon and grenache). Aged in French oak, the wines reflect the man behind the brand - elegant, sophisticated, and utterly, utterly sincere.

But how does the wine make me feel? Because really, that's all that matters. All that I really care about, and I wouldn't be up at nearly midnight writing this nonsense if I didn't care. This visit taught me so many new things, in wine and otherwise. First, the power of family. The only thing of importance and significance in this ridiculous world we live in. Second, the need in this industry for vision. The distributors have all the power with setting prices, the kinds of wines they want to carry in their portfolio ... consumers either are slaves to trends or have no goddamn clue what they want ... so what's a winery to do, if there is no vision? With a clear path, a clear idea of what your brand represents - that's the only way to make it. The man behind Oliver Conti, my mentor for writing this case - he taught me all those things. So onto the wines, with the exception of the Marta (a sweet gewürztraminer), tasted at the winery, and again at home over 2 days ...

2013 Treyu: a blend of gewürztraminer and macabeu, aromas of gewürz right away, that tropical, spicy fruit; subtle, very dry on the palate tensile and quite linear; long

2010 Blanc Etiqueta: same gewürz/macabeu blend, with 12 months in new French oak; oak apparent immediately, creamy and quite rich, with an elegant palate; high acid on the finish, bright and very intense

2012 Pinot Noir: Niagara here? Bright red fruits, spice, a brambly character that evokes what I know (and love) so well; not much in way of structure, but high acid and spice, great elegance

2011 Turo Negre: both cabernets in the blend with merlot and garnacha; dark here, earthy, with a bit of that road tar aroma from the cabernet; great freshness and structure, very good here for the price

2011 Ara: a blend of garnacha/cabernet sauvignon; more subdued on the nose, some oak, darker, quieter; very high acidity, fine tannins

2010 Carlota: 100% cabernet franc, very unusual for this region (and Spain); immediately my favourite of the lineup, full cabernet franc character on the nose - slightly green, juicy fruit, fresh and vibrant; pillowy texture while retaining excellent acidity and fine tannins; a gorgeous wine

2010 Negre Etiqueta: same blend as the Turo Negre; some alcohol here, elegant with some tarry, earthy aromas; juicy fruit on the palate, bigger, but remaining elegant; extracted, crunchy finish; an excellent wine

Wow. The character of the Empordà and Oliver Conti shines through the entire lineup. In their words, the seek to achieve two things: aroma and elegance. And boy, do they ever do it. Gorgeous fruit throughout, impeccably balanced, with great acidity and fine structure. French-style wines, perhaps, but retaining that wildness, that absolute beauty of the Costa Brava. I've always been a believer that to fully appreciate a winery is impossible without walking the vineyards, to breathe the same air as the vines. Inspired? Definitely. And motivated, now more than ever, to tell their story.

DF

a handlebar and a cane

2012 Vini Viti Vinci Les 4 Z'Amis | Vin de France

I'm in business school, but I'm still that same shit-disturber. I don't believe in subterfuge, that utter nonsense. I still believe in the purity of things - that success and glory comes from quality, from hard work, from the pureness of the craft. 

Let's talk wine. Great wine - and I mean the great, impressive wines of the world - seems to derive more as a function of clever marketing and branding than what's in the bottle. What's tangible. What touches the heart, more than the head. It's how I feel about basketball. We can talk that bullshit about Drake, about rumours of Vince Carter coming back, about the new uniforms ... but you know what has put the Toronto Raptors back on the map? The bold, genius moves of Raptors GM Masai Ujiri and the inspired play of our boys, Derozan, Johnson, and Lowry, led by our finest ever coach, Dwane Casey. The purity of things, where success and recognition comes from pure talent and merit, rather than any exterior elements. And I know we're supposed to be business-minded and think about other things. It's not all about the quality of the product. But imagine, if we can live in a world where the truly noteworthy and deserving get to show their qualities. I want to live in that world.

I'm obsessed with this one woman here. Who it is isn't important ... or rather, I don't feel like sharing. But we see relationships in the same way, no? We want to be with something who is with us for the pure fact that we belong together, that we share the same spirit. I have no job prospects, no 6-figure position waiting for me. I want to do something that is low-margin, that is dirty, that is sweaty. And so we suffer the slings and arrows, all those cliches, to find someone who will suffer along with us.

And what does this all have to do with this wine, a natural wine from Burgundy? What is a naked man wearing a checked napkin doing resting his dick on a stick?

DF

O Rosal

2012 Terras Gauda O Rosal | DO Rías Baixas

We went out last night for drinks. Many drinks. And towards the end, after all the cava, I wanted something different. Something French. And we found it, a stunning bottle of Arbois-Pupillin, although that's not what I'm going to write about. Rather, I want to moan a little (maybe a lot) about the ubiquity of that cheap style of wine here in Spain, that homogenous style of big, jammy wines that tastes the same, no matter where the grapes come from.

After nearly 11 months here, I have to admit, my opinion of the LCBO has changed quite a bit. Sure I still think they should still tear the whole system down, but they do offer the customer one thing that we don't quite appreciate ... variety. Here in Europe, forget about it, maybe outside of the most urban cities - London, Berlin, etc. Want to buy a French wine in Barcelona, from an AOC that's no more than an hour away? Forget it. You can't even get the industrialized crap here. Only overpriced Bordeaux, and maybe the odd Burgundy, village-level only.

So we're stuck with Spanish wine. And while I love, love, love Spanish wine (my early education in wine), there's also a lot of mediocrity. The ones that really sing, that really stand for something - well, you'll have to pay for the privilege. For everyday wines, let's say 6-10€, there's very little in way of typicity and character. It's all that big, super ripe, fruit-forward wines that are alcoholic and a little sweet, and give the middle finger to what grape varietal they're made out of, much less a sense of place. And that's a shame. Because this bottle taught me that when it's on, Spanish wine remains one of the most interesting, unique expressions of their terroir in the world.

I love albariño, my first experience with Spanish whites. The Terras Gauda, from Galicia, is a blend of 70% albariño, 18% loureiro, and 12% caiño blanco. As described by the bodega, 

... we selected the albariño grapes from the “As Eiras” plots. Due to the excellent ripening during summer, the harvest started 12 days before than usual, beginning of September, with the right autumn sun light and temperatures to produce top-quality must. These conditions remained constant and beneficial to the other varieties such as Caíño Blanco, which were harvested at the beginning of October and Loureiro, end of September. The grapes arrived at the winery with high sugar content in perfect harmony with the acids.

After a separate cold maceration of each variety, traditional fermentation took place at controlled temperatures in stainless-steel tanks. After adding natural yeasts from the vineyards, the wine was cold stabilized, filtered and finally bottled.

A beautiful wine, pouring deep golden, with an almost a slight oxidized look. Mineral, saline, tense ... all those adjectives to describe albariño at its finest, when it just sings of the Atlantic Ocean. Over seafood from La Boqueria, sublime. And here's the really great thing ... the wine was 12.60€. Ok, so still over 10, but a lot of value for that price. Someone tell me why it's sometimes such a struggle to get the same experience without having to play the select one to put in the shopping cart: wine or chicken leg game. 

DF

the modernist

2012 Legaris Roble | DO Ribera del Duero

Really enjoying my summer. Weather's beautiful, sun is shining, birds are chirping ... working on that tan. I've also started working on that business case. Can't reveal all (yet), but it will focus on marketing, branding, and distribution/sales channels. And it's about a winery here in Catalunya. I feel incredibly fortunate to be working on this for the first half of summer. Building knowledge, seeing new things, as they say. And from just our first meeting, some things are already readily apparent.

Spanish wine producers are in a bit of a rough spot. Growth, even locally, is hard to come by. The industry's defining feature is its fragmentation (500 brands producing over 15,000 references), with rebranding and the continual expansion of the product lineup the only way for producers to differentiate. Distributors have enormous power - no surprise - but what's a bit frightening is this sense that there is no urgency to actually present interesting wines to people. If the business is built on what levels of margin are acceptable or not, who is looking out for the small, artisanal producers who make tiny qualities of true, authentic wines, however high (or low) their appellation's prestige is? Am I so green in this industry, so naive, that this is all a bit shocking? Maybe. After all, like in NBA trades, it's all about matching the financials of each player's contracts, and not so much about the actual players themselves. Does there remain a place for idealism in wine, a belief that there is more meaning beyond what margins each tier can receive?!

Legaris is a favourite. I don't drink much Ribera del Duero - something about being a student and heavily in debt. But this is a good introduction to the region, or rather, the more modern side of the region. Still in balance, still with focus ... but nonetheless a modernist. Of course, made with 100% tempranillo grown in alluvial, gravelly, and sandy-loamy soils near the Duero River. For once, let's talk specifics. 2012 was a drought year, but the vintage was saved by rainfalls during two vital periods - shoot elongation, and at the onset of ripening. Harvest took place throughout October, with primary and malolactic fermentation in steel tanks. Further aged for 3 months in American oak, it was then fined with egg whites, filtered, and bottled. For lack of a better term, this is the entry wine of Legaris, to introduce drinkers to the bodega. It's round, it's plushy, with ripe jammy fruit. Well balanced, with slight tannins on the finish to give it precision and texture. Altogether a very well-made, representative wine of Ribera, at a very reasonable price.

Is there a place in the industry for young, hungry people, who still believe they can do something different and positive? Is there room for idealists and dreamers? 

DF

Bobal? Bobal!!

2012 Bruno Murciano La Malkerida Phinca Bobal

We talk a lot about opportunity here. Seizing the moment, as they say. How many times do we really get to see it played out, in real life though? Not that many. Today was one of those days, when things round out, when the viewfinder comes in focus. My summer is finally in place. I will work for IESE for the first half, helping a professor write a business case and teaching note about his winery. In the second half, I will be moving to a town called Zaragoza, to work with a wine exporter. Exciting projects all around.

I'm reminded that sometimes wine, like opportunities, isn't so much about what's obvious, what seems to be the most impressive. Whatever that means. It took me since January to really figure this internship out - what I really wanted out of this summer, what project (and company) would be my best fit. And I suppose it's a little unfair that I can afford to be a little picky at this stage, what with not having any real responsibility. But with patience, perseverance, and really, a lot of providence, sometimes things just work themselves out. So many jobs came up, that seemed interesting at first, but simply weren't right for me. Didn't feel right, and as much as we're taught to be analytical in business school, my intuition, my gut feel, is still a bit part of my decision making process. And so we make those decisions, and plow forward with hope and confidence, and as always, with an eagerness for the unknown and unexpected.

Wine. Let's get back to wine. Have you ever heard of this Spanish varietal called bobal? Did you know that it was the second most planted grape, after tempranillo? Surprises, always surprises and something new to learn. Jancis Robinson does a great job profiling this wine and the people behind it, so I won't repeat it, but I picked up this bottle after tasting the most amazing bottle of bobal, made naturally, from Valencia. This one was fabulous. Lithe and tensile, but with great juicy fruit, some herbal notes to keep it interesting. Gains in depth, broadness with air. At once pure yet seemingly profoundly grounded in the earth. An interesting, interesting wine.

We try to capture these opportunities that speak to us, that touch our heart ... the ones that bring out our idealism and motivate us to change how things are. Same with wine. There should be no status quo. Wine should constantly seek to surprise, to teach, to inspire. Too much to ask for? Not if we give back as much as we take, to contribute to this wonderful, beautiful industry. Here's to a summer of wine.

DF

on the cheap

Top: Bodegas Argüeso San León Manzanilla | Sanlucar de Barrameda
Bottom: Barbadillo Solear Manzanilla | Sanlucar de Barrameda

In honour of the just wrapped-up Sherryfest in San Francisco, a pair of manzanillas that punch above their weight. Great bang-for-back. Or above average price-quality ratio, whatever way you want to say it. Sherry is fairly inexpensive here, although in Barcelona, selection can be a bit wanting. El Corte Inglés does a good job of rotating the brands they carry, so always something new to try. Both, a great example of the difference between fino and manzanilla - just a little bit drier, a little tighter, a bit more focused. Great salinity and precision, both fresh bottles. And freshness counts in manzanilla.

Cheap kinds of fun. But those are always the best. Last night was the Hogueras de San Juan or in Catalan, Fogueres de Sant Joan. The Bonfires of Saint John. Supposedly to celebrate the summer solstice by prolonging the night with bonfires, but in Barcelona at least, it's a free-for-all on the beach with people shooting fireworks into crowds, loud music, and copious amounts of drinking. We ended up having to take a break and take a walk along the water. Shoes wet, feet sandy, but lots of fun.

One last free day today before we start getting serious. Back to work.

DF

a little bit of sun, a little bit of sand

2010 Portal del Montsant Brunus | DO Montsant

Back to wine. Always go back to wine when feeling lost. Back to those things that give us comfort and safety, joy and happiness. Back to wine.

Catalunya - what a discovery (for this wino). At once rich and supple, yet focused and true wines. Unabashedly of that sunshine, that clay and sand and slate. A Spanish wine through and through, politics notwithstanding. Wine is meant to bring us together, not divide us - that most beautiful spirit of friendship and generosity. While these bottles of Montsant may not be overly complex nor sophisticated, they do offer immense pleasure. And that's the only real point of wine.

After nearly 10 months of a rigorous, packed schedule, there's suddenly ... nothing to do. For the next few days at least. Still working out what my summer will look like, but for now, enjoying the sun. Officially moved into my summer flat this Wednesday, a painful and overly laborious affair ... but I'm in, we have the most amazing terrace looking out onto Tibidabo, and yes, I'm going to have the best tan after this summer. Tan all over, man all over as they say. Now that I have some time to myself, will work on the fitness and nutrition. Can't be a winner if you don't fuel like a winner, no? Big things in store this summer guys.

DF

in need of a drink

Maeloc Cosecha De Galicia Sidra Extra Ecologica | Galicia

Man, I've got it bad. Been fighting a cold for a bit over a week now, and the chest congestion is just getting out of hand. Ridiculous, really, and I can't remember ever feeling so physically miserable. But when you can't hear anything out of one ear, can't smell jackshit, and coughing uncontrollably, you suck it up and see the campus doctor. Antibiotics and something called Flumil, to clear up the phlegm.

At this point, I think alcohol would do me some good. But for the first time, my sense of smell and taste are completely shot. You could fart in my face (not an invitation) and I wouldn't flinch. This, I still remember though. I love this cider producer. Clean, fresh, yet with all that pickled, bright character of cider. Delicious. Had a long week, lots going on. Summer plans slowly rounding out, finally. One more week remaining in first year. For once, hoping that summer didn't come so soon. Man, lots of firsts this week.

Going to sleep now. Not the long one. Not yet.

DF

there will be no white flag above my door ...

2011 Venus Dido 'La Universal' | DO Montsant

I witnessed a great kindness from a stranger this morning. The sky was grey, all was cloudy - a storm in Barcelona. There wasn't rain, so I made the call to leave the ridiculous golf umbrella at home. But sunshine isn't sunshine without a bit of rain, no? So not 15 minutes later, I stepped out of the metro into a downpour. Like a wet dog, I waited for the bus ... when I felt the rain stop. A girl was holding her umbrella over me. With a smile, she kept a stranger dry until the bus came. Angel.

We sometimes ask for too much from wine. We want it to be intense, to be rich ... to be value-priced, yet taste 'expensive', whatever the hell that means. I can't even begin to emphasize how hard I disagree with that perspective. My blood boils, my insides tighten. Do we no longer have the capacity for imagination, to allow ourselves to be surprised? Are we so cynical that we assume we know everything about a wine before tasting it, and anything surprising about it is a flaw?

I want to share a wine I had a few months ago, but am still processing. The Venus Dido - and you have to check out their story. From Montsant, a region of Catalunya that I'm discovering, and that I'm becoming head over heels crazy about. On first taste, the wine is what it is - unapologetically Spanish, that rich voluptuousness of vines grown in hot, dry climates. But like all good things, all good people, a true measure of character and quality comes with time. With an open mind, over a few days - the wine, initially throwing off stiff alcohol fumes, becomes more integrated, more in harmony. The acidity becomes a bit more focused, contributing as well to that balance. There's complexity, a minerality and chalkiness on the finish.

The 'La Universal' is a blend of 75% garnacha, 15% syrah, 5% merlot, and 5% cabernet sauvignon. Grown in an organic way, 40% of the wine is aged in concrete tanks, while 60% is aged in oaks of different origins and sizes (300-4000 litres) for 16 months, with a small amount in clay amphorae. Looking forward to seeing the direction owners Sara Perez and Rene Barbier take this wine. An honest interpretation of garnacha, full of vigor and character.

Man, that Champions League Final was a nail-biter, wasn't it. And this from a guy who really couldn't care less about soccer. A full range of emotions on display, especially from the Real Madrid fans. Confidence, excitement, fear, despair ... until finally elation, first cautious, then a full eruption of joy. That winning goal was what they paid €100 million for, I suppose. I'm quickly realizing that although the spirit is willing, I've reached my physical limits with partying here. So although no white flags will be raised (just yet), I do need a full 12 hours of sleep the night before a partying night. This week will be heavy - 5 days straight of events planned. Not that I'm complaining. Of course not. Of course not ...

DF

mystery in the glass

2012 Ferré i Catasús Somiatruites | DO Penedès

Dreams bottled, waiting patiently for its time, for the right person, for the right moment. And all it asks for ... all wine ever asks for ... is unselfishness, humility, and generosity. Too often we drink wine to impress people, to be peacocks, to somehow use wine to present ourselves as more than what we are. Tragic, really. The vines weep. We open bottles and share them with our loved ones, because wine brings us together in a spirit of joy and conviviality - the vines give us all she has and she asks for so little in return but for a moment of honesty and truth.

We had this wine way back, way back, during the first wine event I hosted here at IESE, before IESE Wine & Spirits existed. Exciting times. When we bought this wine, the shop owner couldn't even tell me what it was. A white wine from Penedès, a blend of who knows what grapes. Well, now I know. Chenin blanc, muscat à petits grains, sauvignon blanc, xarel-lo and chardonnay. Delightfully French, with a Catalan twist. Oooo, and it tastes French too. A waxiness on the palate, a definite richness, reminding me of those big Rhone whites. Freshness on the palate though, and some great dry extract that carries it through to a stately, dry finish. And what a beautiful label.

There's a feeling of impending doom here, that first year is drawing to a close and with it, a little bit of innocence, a little bit of carefree-ness. Well, maybe at least for me. My summer is far from figured out, but it's all a process isn't it. We stumble, we bumble, but in the end, we figure out the right blend. A bottle of dreams, mystery in the glass ... 

DF

Eye of the Hare

2010 Casa Mariol Ull de Llebre Criança 12 Mesos | DO Terra Alta

I've been in this country, this amazing city now for 9 months. And what have I learned so far, here in Barcelona? Silly question. It's far too late, and I'm far too sober to answer that properly. Bueno. But we've drunk some great things, no? I'm still getting my head around Catalan wines, but this is a delicious one. 

So ull de llebre is simply Catalan for tempranillo, and is literally eye of the hare. It's from Terra Alta, which, from the DO website, is in:

... the south of Catalonia, between the River Ebro and the borders of Aragon and includes the 12 municipalities of the county of Terra Alta. The landscape has all the features of an interior region near the Mediterranean Sea: Pre-coastal limestone mountain range (Ports d’Horta, Pàndols and Cavalls mountains), small rivers (l’Algars i el Canaletes), rocky conglomerate mountains, holm oak and white pines woods and, above all, the agricultural soil coloured by typical mediterraean farming: vineyards and almond and olive groves. Here we must add the three agricultural landscapes that are clearly defined: the plains, plateaus and valleys.

The cultivated soil is generally of medium texture. Its common denominator is its limestone richness and its lack of organic material. In the DOTA’s catalogue there are 17 soil profiles, the most prominent is el Panal (the type of soil peculiar to the Terra Alta).

Another feature of the character of the mediterranean interior is the climate. Abundant sunshine and little rainfall which make two distinguishing characteristics: a unique balance between two prodominating winds, el cerç (NW) i les garbinades (seawinds from the south) and a cold winter that is typically continential.

Very cool. Casa Mariol also has a wine bar here in Barcelona, which I really, really should go visit. I hear they pour their vermut too. This wine is aged 12 months in Hungarian oak. Bright orange label, because really, we buy wines on price and label. Intense, powerful wine, and although not altogether complex, an authentic hot climate wine, full of that richness and density that tempranillo can bring. Soft texture, some heat from the alcohol on the way down. A Spanish wine, if I dare be a little political.

Man. Nine months. This Friday was graduation day for the second years. Time flies, and although I haven't been really drinking tonight (yet), it's a trip. Need to get my act together a little, in all those things - academic, professional, personal. Otherwise I'm going to leave here having had the time of my life with nothing to show for it. Had this conversation last week ... have we really changed? Do we just do these programs and take for granted that we develop, we somehow just become better? Nonsense. It's a process that we have to invest in, that we have to commit to, and it takes much more than just lip service to achieve betterment ... much more. So we keep going, we keep pushing ourselves to be uncomfortable, to be a bit anxious, to be hungry. Eye of the hare baby.

DF

apples and fizz

M. Busto Sidra Natural Selección | La Rasa, Villaviciosa, Asturias

Authenticity. Truth. La verdad. That's all we want, isn't it, in all things. Cider included. I've been drinking a lot of it here. A lot of great examples, with special emphasis on those made organically. And while many have been cleaned up and made more palatable, they all show that same character - the sharp acidity, the balance, the notes of pickled veg that make sidra so incredible with richer foods. Delicious. Unapologetically authentic.

This, a cider of sweet, acid, and bitter apples, fermented in chestnut casks - this is one of those drinks that takes you on a ride. An unfamiliar one, yes, but an exciting one. I like these drinks, much as I like foods that initially seem simple, but reveal complexity after complexity with every bite. The layers and layers underneath. That's excitement. That's mystery. That's imagination.

My summer plans are still far from being finalized. In other words, no clue. I might be in Barcelona, I might just be back home. Who knows. But that's a little exciting too.

DF