Bodegas Montecillo's Albariño Adventure

What happens when a winemaker like Maria Martinez Sierra--known for her red wines at Bodegas Montecillo in the Rioja--turns her attention to white wine instead? Something wonderful if this bottle is any indication.

The 2006 Bodegas Montecillo Verdemar Albariño is made from grapes grown in Spain's Rías Baixas region, and it's the first vintage of the wine available in the US. I found it to be a textbook Albariño with delectable citrus, saline, and bread dough aromas. There were flavors of apple, along with more doughy and citrusy notes, and a salt spray finish. This is an excellent QPR effort from Bodegas Montecillo, with their typical attention to varietal correctness and every element in perfect balance. The suggested retail is $14, and you may be lucky enough to find this (or a later vintage) near you for around $12.

Albariño is a perfect partner for shellfish, and I'm particularly fond of it with clams. So peel yourself some shrimp, crack into a lobster, or steam some Little Necks and enjoy this zesty, summery wine with friends.

Full Disclosure: I received this wine as a sample.

Today on Serious Grape: Does Your Stemware Matter?

If you are planning to drink wine from a plastic cup this weekend, you may want to think twice.

At this year's Hospice du Rhône I attended a seminar on wineglasses led by Georg Riedel. My experiences in that seminar convinced me that the shape of your wineglass really does matter, and that drinking wine out of a plastic cup makes even good wine taste like Welch's grape juice.

Check out my experiences in today's Serious Grape column on Serious Eats. What do you think? Is this all hooey, or does stemware matter to a wine's taste?

Out of Africa with the Wine Book Club in July: Africa Uncorked

When you think "wine" you may not immediately think "Africa." John and Erica Platter set out on safari to explore African wines in the July Wine Book Club pick, Africa Uncorked: Travels in Extreme Wine Territory. ($24.95, available through Amazon.com)

I have to confess I am extremely ignorant about African wine. I don't even know that much about the wines of South Africa, never mind what's going on elsewhere. So I am looking forward to finding out about where grapes are grown on the continent and about wine culture, too. A long time ago (so long ago I can't find the comment now!) a reader suggested the Platters' book. It's taken me a while to get around to it, but now that I've got it in my hands I'm really looking forward to reading it. Other critics have described the book as "wise and visionary" (Jancis Robinson) and "the most original wine book in years" (Hugh Johnson). So why not get yourself a copy and join us as we find out more?

If you do join in and want to leave your thoughts on the book you can either leave them in the comments below by Wednesday, July 29 or (if you have a blog) you can leave the link to your post here in the comments or send it to me via email. I'll post a roundup of the reviews on Thursday, July 30.

And if you want a recap of what we read last month, check out Kori's wrap-up of our reviews of Jamie Ivey's La Vie en Rosé over on her blog, Wine Peeps. Thanks again to Kori for hosting while I was away.

Old World/New World: Comparing 2003 Cabernets

The summer puts me within arms' reach of my wine cellar--a long windowseat in a house in the woods that that never goes above 60 degrees. (you can see the tell-all pictures here) Every wine bottle I unearth has some history attached to it--where I bought it, when, why--and it feels like greeting an old friend to see them again.

While puttering in the windowseat I found two bottles of Cabernet Sauvignon-based wines from the 2003 vintage that had entered my cellar the same month--December 2006. One was from France's Haut-Médoc region in the Bordeaux. The other was from California's Alexander Valley. I decided to grill some steaks and open both bottles to compare their taste and their readiness for drinking. I like experimenting with cellaring wines, and usually find that my patience is rewarded.

The first wine, the 2003 Château Cantemerle, cost me $20.99 from K & L Wines. I purchased several bottles in April 2006 as Bordeaux futures. They arrived in December 2006 and were promptly stored in my windowseat cellar. Even six years after harvest and with two and a half years of cellaring I think it might have been a bit early to open up this wine, which is made from a blend of Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot. When I pulled the cork, there were aromas of earthy funk and leather. Over the course of the evening, plum and cassis aromas and flavors were added to the earthiness, along with some herbal notes. What I most liked about this wine was its silky texture, and the way the wine tasted like a cross between a Burgundy and Bordeaux. The wine was still awkward, though, a little like a gawky adolescent. Nevertheless, I think it represented very good QPR for Bordeaux, and will be interested to see how the other bottles develop over the next 2-4 years.

I purchased the second wine, the 2003 Chateau Souverain Cabernet Sauvignon, in December 2006 at Costco. The price was $14.99, and it's been waiting in my cellar ever since. I expected this bottle to be a bit more integrated and really hitting its stride--and it was. Alexander Valley Cabernets are (in my opinion) a bit "old world" in style, so I was ready for the initially strong aromas of cassis and bell pepper that I associate with red wines from this part of California. As time passed, however, there were more plummy and cassis aromas and flavors, accompanied by some toasty oak, and the vegetal notes faded. I liked this wine's lushness, and its cinnamon-inflected finish. All in all, I thought it was excellent QPR for the price paid and was glad that I'd let the wine sit as long as it did before opening it up. Right now the wine's compexity is evident. If you have any of this wine in your cellar, I suggest opening it up now or over the next two years.

If you've got some 2003 Cabernets in your cellar, are you drinking them yet? And if so, what are your experiences?

Looking at Life through Rosé-Colored Glasses

It sounds so idyllic. You love rosé wine. You love France. So you leave your life in London behind, start flogging rosé to skeptical French drinkers in busy market squares, and hope to learn enough to buy a bar that will specialize in the pink stuff.

As Jamie Ivey, his wife Tanya, and friend Peter discovered, however, things are never quite as idyllic as we imagine they might be.

Welcome to the June edition of the Wine Book Club, hosted this month by Kori from the Wine Peeps blog. Our book selection for this month was Jamie Ivey's La Vie en Rosé, a book that tells the tale of Ivey's continuing obsession with rosé wines.

I enjoyed this book--it was perfect escape reading, and it convinced me that I do not ever want to open a wine bar in France. Getting to experience the highs and lows of the process--from Ivey's halting attempts to communicate with the locals (all of whom know a great deal about wine) to the moment they plunk down money on a piece of property--was like watching friends dive off a very high cliff into formidably deep waters. I appreciated the bravery of what they did, but I have no intention of doing it myself.

La Vie en Rosé is full of the sights and sounds of the southern French countryside. From local festivals celebrating garlic to visits with local vignerons, Ivey is adept at bringing a scene to life in all its variety and with a fair bit of humor. My favorite parts were about the reaction that the French had to they Iveys' plans to sell nothing but rosé wine. Some were stunned, many thought the wine would be too expensive to appeal to people used to buying bulk wine from the local co-op, and others were incredulous. In spite of the odds, and in the face of lukewarm success, the Iveys remained committed to their mission to celebrate rosé.

The book was less about the wine than it was about French attitudes towards wine and food, and about the difficulties that anyone faces when they try to fit into a new culture. So if you're looking for a book that tells you a lot about rosé wine you may be disappointed. If, on the other hand, you want an up-close account of immersion in French food and wine culture, you will probably enjoy this book immensely.

One thing to note: Ivey is British, and this means that his sense of humor is decidedly British as well. His tone may strike some readers as offbeat and ironic. But if you like Peter Mayle's stories of life in Provence, then Ivey's writing style will be right up your alley.

This is the kind of book to pack into your bag when you're taking a weekend trip, or just want some pleasant, escapist reading with a wine-related theme. Thanks again to Kori for hosting us and I'll see you back here at the end of July with my reactions to another wine-related book.