Archive for February, 2009

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Symposium for Professional Wine Writers and Premier Napa Valley auction

February 28, 2009

All right. The Negress has been busy. She has drunk wine, done a partially sighted tasting, and had her options and ambitions confirmed. She is beginning to realize she isn’t like everyone else here beyond the Negritude. The Best Wine Ever For Now is out there, waiting to be tasted. I like my journey better where the wine comes with people, food and circumstances.

You need examples? Well, there was a partially sighted tasting at the Rudd Center for Wine Studies at CIA Greystone Wednesday afternoon. We all knew that the wines were either predominantly Cabernet Sauvignon or Merlot and all were of the same vintage.  We made mistakes and picked a favorite, but the best part of this tasting was the cheeky chat and bold declarations. One woman,  a veteran restaurant owner in Seattle, said she would never serve any of the wines poured in her restaurant, praising  French wines in general as a better value.  Another person brought up the increasing “Frankenwine” tendencies of Napa vintners (to this mind, Napa isn’t the only criminal in this jail). One sommelier noted that some of the wines were bretty, which was helpful since I now have a clear idea of what brett tastes like.

I didn’t speak up at  the time, but I’m beginning to love blends. Blends are not Frankenwine, but a kind of alchemy that can enhance a varietal’s identity. My favorite of the wines was the 2005 Cliff Lede Cabernet Sauvignon, Stag’s Leap District, which was 14.8 percent alcohol by volume and 85 percent Cabernet Sauvignon, 13 percent Merlot, 1 percent Malbec and 1 percent Petit Verdot. Cabernet Sauvignon can be satiny but little vegetal. Merlot is like flannel by comparison. The worst of them drink like chewing on an old blanket. Call this one slubbed silk. This wine was smooth, well-integrated and had none of the Bigfoot-kicks-you-in-the-head tendencies of some of the flashier Cali Cabs we’ve tried. As the rest of the conference went on, we got good writing and reading advice, drank a lot more wine and generally frolicked in Napa with the exception of a overlong winery dinner at Trinchero Family Vineyards. Wines thrive at 55 degrees. Human placed in these conditions with long waits between courses, not so much. The Negress likened the event to the Bataan Death March on Twitter and is sure it did have better food. The Negress did some writing for Mutineer magazine about the symposium. Best comment of the Symposium: “I’m gonna go home and drink Scotch.” Most frightening potential future wine-related malady: crappy tooth enamel. As for the auction, it was preceded a vertical tasting of 04, 05 and 06 vintages of some Napa wines. I tasted about half the wines, but didn’t find the setting conducive to detailed observations. For some wines, I have notes like “furry; immature; odd,” which may have made perfect sense at the time. Now my guess would be that flannel-in-the-mouth effect I get from Merlot would account for the fur, which might lead to soft tannins that were all over the place. Since my palate is not your palate, you really had to be there.

One thing that was different about this year’s proceedings was seeing at least two Hispanic wine writers. Tony Lawrence and myself have played the flies-in-the-buttermilk role at the symposium for the past two years. Chef Tony went it alone for three years before I arrived. You cannot tell me there are no people of color interested in writing about wine. The Symposium organizers should probably reach out to others, but it’s nice to see a little progress on this front.

Annual photo of the sheep working at Spring Mountain Winery

Annual photo of the sheep working at Spring Mountain Winery

Thanks to being in Napa and San Francisco for 11 days, I missed this month’s edition of Wine Blogging Wednesday. Perhaps I’ll explore the Piedmont later. Onward.

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Wine Writers Symposium pre-conference

February 17, 2009

Although that sounds very official, it’s more of the way of the Negress codifying how she immerses herself in the pleasures of Meadowood before the symposium starts. First of all, it’s best to take Meadowood up on its wine program so I headed down to the Grill from my treetop aerie above the spa for dinner at the Grill. Rainy Monday nights are a good time to eat at Meadowood since it’s not busy and the staff have time to talk. All of the specials sounded fabulous so I ordered them. First up, tuna tartare with avocado, serrano chili, lime, taro chips and wasabi oil. This was all about heat and contrasting  textures. Paired with it was 2005 Schramsberg Blanc de Noirs sparkling wine. Initially, the wine seemed a bit innocuous with little yeast and a bland affect. Unlike some men I have known, first impressions can be deceiving. The Schramsberg blossomed against the tart tuna with light floral notes. Next up was roast lamb chops with carrot puree, crisp baby artichokes and sweet potato syrah reduction sauce. Here’s where it gets tricky. The wine listed to pair with the chops was a 2004 Saxon Brown “Parmelee Hill Vineyard” Syrah, but the waiter gave me the Zinfandel. Saxon Brown didn’t produce a Syrah in 2004 so I guess the menu was incorrect. Whatever it was, the candied cherry on the palate reminded me of Jolly Ranchers candy. It made the lamb sing a joyful song whatever it was.  Anyway, the meal closed with  Rozes 10 year old Tawny  port and red velvet cake with strawberry anglaise and Valhrona chocolate sauce. At its best, red velvet cake almost makes you wish the South won the Civil War. This one was rich and gave the port a nice kick. After a discussion on Malbecs, the waiter gave a me a taste of a Malbec that was intriguingly smooth and rustic simultaneously. I hate to leave readers hanging, but I’ll post the name as soon as I can track it down.

In-room wines at Meadowood

In-room wines at Meadowood

Anyway, the writers are arriving  even as we speak so I’m off to explore the place some more.

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Cadus Malbec, donated Xanax, 5 puttonyo Tokaji and the 14 White Russians lady

February 14, 2009

The Negress experienced quite a panoply of human experience while being at the Newark Airport for 6 hours or so waiting on an extremely delayed flight to San Francisco. I hid out in the President’s Club since drinking is an excellent way to kill time when you are waiting. I had one quartino of Cadus Malbec (vintage not stated) with an English guy who was a huge Tottenham Spurs fan, taught figure skating and was a delighted to meet a Yank with extensive knowledge of soccer. His plane left. I was then joined by three Disney employees who were enchanted and on their way to Orlando. I drank my second quartino of Cadus, gave them some of my Xanax (wouldn’t you?) and made wine recommendations for the California Grill in  Mouse land. Their plane left. Between these encounters I had been chatting with a lightly pierced woman from Newfoundland whose flight had been canceled. She was in the midst of flying back from a month in India. As her drinking escalated (I stopped counting the White Russians at about 14), I found out about how her alcoholic boyfriend lured her back from India a month early saying he couldn’t function without her (I see more than one alcoholic in this picture but I leave you to judge that for yourself). She cut short trip with the usual domestic flight mayhem once experiences in the developing world. However, before her laptop and phone got stolen (which may have been before or after she made out and got drunk with some English guy who not surprisingly went flaccid on her), she found out via Facebook that Alkie boyfriend had been seen in the hangout bar in Newfoundland fondling someone else. Her response? Buy cheap clothes, including a pair of high heel sneakers in Lakers colors and an odd piece of lingerie best described as a combination thong/bustier/onesie. She planned to wear some of the cheap clothes to the hangout to kick Alkie boyfriend in the balls. I know about the odd lingerie because she pulled it out a bag in the President’s Club and showed it to me, along with the tattered, smelly shoes she had worn all through India. Around this time she said, “I’m not drunk. Am I acting drunk?” I could not answer the question. Luckily I left to lounge to board my flight, leaving at 10 p.m. instead of 6 p.m. Arrived at SFO at 2 a.m., picked up rental car and made my way to the Palace hotel, which is gorgeous especially at four a.m. or so. After much needed sleep, I went out Friday night with my dear friend Phillip and had a stunning Viognier and the 5 Puttonyos Tokaji at a groovy seafood place, Anchor and Hope. More Bayside adventures await.