Grappa – Your New (Very Old) Brandy

When I started learning about wine and spirits, I was told grappa was more or less the garbage of the liquor world. There is a sliver of truth in that bias; after all, it’s distilled from pomace – seeds, stalks, skins and pulp, the parts of the grape most winemakers throw away.

But there the similarity ends. I tasted some fine grappa last week as part of the American delegation touring wineries in the Trentino-Alto Adige region of Italy. (I won’t rub it in too much about the Italy thing,  but I’ll share more about it in the coming weeks.)  For my money, discovering grappa was a highlight of the trip.

IMG_0541[Jamie Stewart, brand manager of Cantine Ferrari Trento, with a few of the winery’s 19th-century gadgets.]

Typically a digestivo, or after-dinner drink (because it’s believed to be good for digestion), grappa is today’s spirits trend, made by more than 100 producers and selling about 40 million bottles a year, though it’s been produced since the Middle Ages. Back then it was an easy, cheap way for farmers and vineyard workers to warm up.

Some classify grappa as an eau-de-vie – and in France, brandy distilled from grape pomace is called eau-de-vie de marc (pronounced “mar”). Other sources say eau-de-vie refers to brandy made from raw materials other than grapes.

Some producers distill their grappa in pot stills or column stills, but others use steam distillation, believing a direct flame could burn the pomace. The drink can be produced from one grape variety or a blend; single-variety grappa (at least 85 percent one variety) is sometimes called monovitigno. And it comes with requirements: fermentation and distillation must happen on the pomace with no added water. The stems in pomace can create small quantities of toxic methanol that must be removed, so Italian law prohibits grappa from being produced in a winery – distillation must take place in a separate facility. And in the EU (European Union), it can only be labeled “grappa” if it’s produced in Italy or San Marino, a tiny republic surrounded by the mountains of north-central Italy. But craft distillers in the US, who aren’t restricted by those labeling laws, are starting to produce some fine artisanal pomace brandies and labeling them as grappa.

The grappa I sampled, reviewed below, was produced by the Ferrari group (no relation to the car, though their wines are just as elegant) in Trentodoc, the cartel of sparkling wine producers in Trentino. You’ll notice it’s caramel-colored. When grappa is stored in glass or other “inactive” materials before bottling, it’s a clear spirit like vodka. Aging it in wooden casks gives it color; if it’s called Vecchia or Invecchiata it was aged for at least 12 months in wood. Grappa labeled Riserva or Stravecchia aged in wood for at least 18 months. My grappa underwent a fractional aging/blending process called a solera system.

Sip your grappa slowly, from a small glass – it can be potent stuff. And look at the alcohol content on the label before you buy; mine is a smooth 84 proof but you can find it lighter – or as raw as throat-scarring 120 proof.

IMG_0543Vino ‘View:  Grappa Segnana Solera Selezione (42 percent alc., about $40 US) After I was treated to a taste of this sublime spirit I couldn’t pull out my wallet fast enough; I had to take a bottle home. Made of 60 percent Pinot Nero and 40 percent Chardonnay, it blends five vintages in a solera process: some brandy from the oldest French oak barrels is bottled, then brandy from each vintage’s barrels tops off the next oldest, and the progressive blending continues each year. The barrels impart a roasted, vanilla, smoky flavor mixed with dark fruit and a long, fruity finish. Don’t look for Grappa Segnana on store shelves in the US; you’ll have to order it online. Google for the best price.

Wine Lingo of the Day:  Caffé Coretto (“corrected coffee”) = What you’ll drink if you add a shot of grappa to espresso. Or make it Resentin (“little rinser”) – drink your espresso first, then down a shot of grappa from the same cup.

Ciao!

Mary

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Italian Wine – Splendido Vino!

Ah, primavera – finally it’s spring, the most joyful season. Grapes are starting to emerge from their long slumber and ease into their growing cycle. Here in the Great Lakes region, we get a hint of the Mediterranean with warming sunshine and breezy, cool nights – and to me, nothing says Mediterranean like a BigSexyRed from Italy.

I had a chance to taste plenty of wonderful Italian wines recently at Vinitaly2017, the giant wine expo in New York City staged by Vinitaly, the “strategic arm of Italian wine abroad.” That means they exist to promote Italian wines – an easy job in the US, I think, since we’re consistently one of the top importers worldwide.

Such expos are trade shows: you take a few hundred winemakers; add a swarm of wine writers, buyers, distributors and geeks; put them in a gymnasium and start pouring. Between pours, you visit seminars such as this one on Barolo and Barbaresco, two hearty reds produced in Italy’s Piedmont region, pictured below.

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Trying to cover Italian wines in one blog post would be ridiculous; almost 400 indigenous grapes grow in 20 wine regions throughout the boot. (Yes, I memorized all 20 regions for my CSW certification exam. No, I couldn’t recite them now.) Those grapes, and scores of other varieties that aren’t native to Italy, are blended in thousands of formulas. It’s said that if you sampled one Italian wine each week, it would take you 20 years to taste all Italian wines. You do the math while I sip.

But we can try, right? For a country that’s less than 70 miles wide at its narrowest point, the mélange of grapes, soils and weather conditions of the Italian Peninsula is vast. It’s a rugged, mountainous country: the Apennines run down its spine, while the Alps dominate the northern boundaries, blocking Arctic air that gives most of Europe its cold winters. At the same time, Italy is almost completely surrounded by seas – the Adriatic, Ionian and Tyrrhenian, with the Mediterranean Sea and its hot, dry summers just to the west.

Each wine region celebrates its own specialties. Chianti is the headliner in romantic Tuscany, made primarily from the Sangiovese grape. In the northeast corner, tucked under the Alps, Friuli-Venezia Giulia is known for its crisp whites: Gewürztraminer, Pinot Grigio and Riesling. On the island of Sicily, Nero d’Avola, the “little black grape,” dominates the hilly vineyards. Abruzzo on the Adriatic Sea presents two stars –  Trebbiano, the white grape known in France as Ugni Blanc, and the delicious red Montepulciano d’Abruzzo. And Piedmont produces Nebbiolo, Barbera and Dolcetto, the biggest, sexiest reds of all, along with the peachy Moscato, sometimes called Asti.

Every year, Italy competes with France as the world’s biggest wine producer – the ranking depends on whom you ask – but it’s responsible for about one-third of global wine production. Italian wine grapes are typically high in acidity, yet medium-bodied, making them ideal for pairing with – you guessed it – Italian foods.

Wine Lingo of the Day:  Super-Tuscans = These wines are born of rebellion (which makes me like them even more!). Back in the 1960s, a small number of winemakers in Tuscany decided the Chianti DOC rules, which regulated the kinds of grapes permitted in quality wines, were too restrictive and limited their potential. Until then, Italian wines that didn’t comply with those rules were viewed as vino da tavola – ordinary table wine. The defiant winemakers fiddled with their blends, many adding “forbidden,” non-indigenous grapes such as Merlot, Syrah, Petit Verdot and Cabernet Sauvignon. In the 1970s, the wines were tagged “Super-Tuscans” and demand – and prices – quickly skyrocketed. Fortunately, Super-Tuscans are no longer a novelty and have become more affordable.

Montefalco Rosso

 

Vino ‘View:  You may have noticed, this bottle of Arnaldo Caprai Montefalco Rosso DOC 2013 (14% alc., $21) is empty. That’s because I shared it with a neighbor who loves Italian reds and we drank every drop. This wine benefits from decanting; although our first glass smelled strongly of dark berries, we tasted only chocolate and dried tobacco. (Nothing wrong with that; I love a smoky BigSexyRed.) The fruit emerged in our aerated second glass: blackberry jam, some black pepper and fewer tannins. Notice the thick tears staining your glass as you swirl; you’ll feel heat in your throat from all of that alcohol. And in the long finish, a tart surprise – a hint of lemon rind toward the back of my tongue. Bring on the lasagna!

Arrivederci for now,

Mary

[The Montefalco Rosso was sent to BigSexyReds for reviewing purposes.]

Tequila, I Feel Ya!

“One tequila, two tequila, three tequila, floor.”  – George Carlin

With the White House proposing new taxes on all things Mexican (including tequila), should we rush to the nearest liquor store and stock up?

We’ve all had our tequila moments – salt, lemon and our amigo Jose Cuervo. But with finer tequila, you can forget the salt shaker and just sip – and savor.blue-agaveAll tequilas share the same humble beginning: they’re a distillate made from the fermented juice of the agave plant, a succulent. All 130-plus varieties of agave have long, spiky leaves called pencas but only a few varieties are used for making tequila.

These are no houseplants; blue agave can grow to eight feet tall and 12 feet in diameter. Unlike most other spirits (such as vodka, which can be produced anywhere in the world), tequila is only made in Mexico. If it’s labeled “100 percent agave tequila” it must be both produced and bottled there. About 80 percent of blue agave grows in the Mexican state of Jalisco, the region surrounding Guadalajara.

Blue agave grows for six to eight years before it’s ready to be harvested. Its pencas grow in a rosette pattern; for tequila production its flower is removed, leaving a swollen central rosette called a piña (pineapple) or cabeza (head). The piñas are cut and cooked; the sweet juice is extracted, fermented and distilled, and you have tequila.

As it turns out, tequila is good for you – at least, it’s good for your bones. A study by researchers at Mexico’s Center for Research and Advanced Studies found that compounds in blue agave can boost absorption of calcium and magnesium, which are essential for bone health.

As for my initial question – should we start hoarding tequila? Maybe not, but it’s always fun to have a bottle of the good stuff in the cupboard.

Wine/Spirits Lingo of the Day: Tahona = Before distillers had modern machinery to extract agave juice from the piña, they used a tahona, a massive stone wheel drawn by a donkey or horses to crush the fibrous pulp of the agave after it was cooked. A similar contraption was used by rum producers in the Caribbean.

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Vino ‘View: For a fine sipping tequila, try BlueNectar Reposado Special Craft. (80 proof; $54.99/750 ml) This bottle came to BigSexyReds with recipes, but we decided not to mix it – it was delicious on its own. Its golden color was created by aging it for up to eight months in charred North American oak barrels. We drank it in a rocks glass with one ice cube and tasted cloves and mint, with just a hint of sweetness from being infused with a kiss of agave nectar.

[Photo, “Blue Agave Fields.” By Alan Levine via Flickr]

¡Salud!

Mary

Vive la Franc!

You’re right, BigSexyReds doesn’t usually work on Sunday. But I couldn’t resist – today, December 4, is Cab Franc Day, and I want to kick up my heels a little and celebrate this rock star of cool-climate reds.

There’s a bit of serendipity at play here. Last week, I spent Thanksgiving with family in northern Virginia. Now, you don’t need me to tell you that Virginia has emerged as a powerhouse of terrific wine. Its “signature” varietal is Viognier, but for my money, that state produces some of the smoothest, most luscious Cabernet Franc on the planet, and we discovered a new favorite at Pearmund Cellars in Broad Run.

pearmund-cellars-fire-pit

Cabernet Franc is one of the three primary grapes in the classic “Bordeaux blend.” (The other two, if you want to sprinkle your next cocktail conversation with a little wine trivia, are Merlot and Cabernet Sauvignon.) We do our Cab Franc dance on December 4 because  it’s the date when Cardinal Richelieu died in 1642 – and he happens to be the fellow who carried cuttings of the vine from Libournais to the Loire Valley, where the variety thrived. I know, it’s a spotty connection, and I’m sure it’s the only day of the year when anyone gives a thought to poor dead Cardinal Richelieu, but there it is.

Cab Franc has a slightly shorter growing season than its heftier relative, Cabernet Sauvignon; it’s ready to harvest at least a week earlier. That means its skin doesn’t get as thick; it doesn’t need the long weeks of hot sun that thick-skinned Cab Sauv needs, so it does well in cooler wine regions such as Ontario, Ohio and the Finger Lakes. Cab Franc does grow in California, though, where it’s popular as an ingredient in that state’s famous Meritage blends.

Cabernet Franc is an adaptable grape with plenty of backbone, so it’s often used in blends, lending some structure to the mix. Petit Verdot is one popular blending partner. I like Cab Franc best as its own single-variety wine, though – it’s robust but, since it’s thin-skinned, its tannins are tame. I think of it as Cabernet Sauvignon’s more refined kin – softer, slightly more floral, but never wimpy. Cab Franc tastes of dark berries and dry leaves; it can hang with the big guys at dinner, pairing well with pork or, because of its spicy notes, a nice sausage dish. But it also goes down nicely with roasted chicken.

So, which Cab came first – Franc or Sauvignon? According to wine expert Jancis Robinson, DNA research in 1997 found that Cabernet Franc had mated with Sauvignon Blanc; their love child was Cabernet Sauvignon. So, Cab Franc is the older grape.

Wine Lingo of the Day:  “Hectare” = a unit of square-area measurement, equal to 2.471 acres. This is the global term used to convey how much land is “under vine,” or planted with wine grapes. Worldwide, about 54,000 hectares, or 133,437 acres, are devoted to growing Cabernet Franc. Most of that land is in France (about 37,000 hectares, or 91,429 acres). About 7 percent of the world’s Cab Franc is grown in the United States.

Vino ‘Views:  We’re raising a glass of Pearmund Cellars 2014 Cabernet Franc Reserve ($42) tonight. Voted “Best Winery in Virginia” by readers of Virginia Wine Lovers Magazine, Pearmund Cellars got our vote for best Cab Franc of the three wineries we visited. Lush and smooth, the aromas of smoke and black cherries gave way to tastes of tobacco, blackberries and strong tea – but without the tea’s tannins. Don’t let the price tag scare you off; it includes the cost of shipping.

Enjoy your Cab Franc tonight!

Mary

[Photo: Fire pit at Pearmund Cellars, courtesy of Benjamin Snyder.]

 

 

Fire Up the Grill – It’s National Zin Day!

Any wine person can tell you: when it comes to BigSexyReds, Zinfandel has got to be the biggest, sexiest red of all. For one thing, it’s one of the booziest grapes on earth. Zinfandel grapes produce kick-ass wine, usually at least 14 percent alcohol and often reaching 15 percent and higher.

zinfandel

I say Zinfandel deserves its own day, and the good folks at ZAP (Zinfandel Advocates & Producers) agree. (Yes, even grapes have advocates these days.) ZAP exists to promote Zin; they even sponsor a five-night trip to Croatia, the “ancestral home of Zin.”

It may have originated in Croatia, but Zinfandel took a detour or two on its way to America in, we think, the 1820s. Our bold black grape is genetically identical to Primitivo, grown in Puglia (Apulia), the section of Italy that makes up the stiletto “heel” jutting out into the Adriatic Sea. It’s also the genetic twin of Vrljenak Kastelanski, an ancient Croatian variety.

In this country it thrives in the Central and Sonoma Valleys of California. It’s also made its way to South Africa, Dalmatia and the Margaret Valley region of Western Australia. That’s because those places offer the perfect conditions for growing Zinfandel: warm, sunny days with sandy soil that drains well and retains enough heat to produce aromatic wine grapes.

You’ll see “Old Vine Zinfandel” on a lot of labels. Take that with a grain of salt – “old” is relative in the wine world. Technically, the vines should be at least 50 years old to merit that designation, but a lot of vineyards sneak in grapes from vines that are only 25 or 30 years old. But in California they take their old vines seriously, and in Lodi, renowned for its quality Zinfandel, it’s not uncommon to find century-old vines still producing. And if the vines genuinely are that old, you’re in for a treat; the wine will not only be beautifully full-bodied, it will have developed the intensity and layers of character that you expect to find in anything (or anyone) that has survived that long.

Still, the wine’s quality always depends to a large extent on the skills and schemes of the winemaker and vineyard manager -not unlike wines produced by any grape variety. Zinfandel happens to grow in tight bunches, making it susceptible to an affliction known as “bunch rot.” The winegrower must train the vines so the clusters of differing sizes don’t touch each other, and cull the grapes to make sure every grape can get the right nutrients and sunshine.

Once you finally get that lush, inky wine in your glass, you’re in for a taste sensation of black fruit and spice, and satisfying heat from the alcohol as it rolls down your throat. Pair your full-bodied Zinfandel with full-bodied food – beef, lamb, duck, barbecue or blue cheese. And please don’t confuse it with White Zinfandel, that sweet “blush” wine that still sells well, especially in the Midwest. I guess I’ll write about White Zin at some point, but I’ll need a few glasses of Zinfandel before I can face that.

By the way, please don’t hesitate to share this post by clicking on the social media buttons at the bottom of the page! If you’d like to get BigSexyReds by email, just click on the “Follow” button at the lower right corner of your screen – and thanks!

Wine Lingo of the Day:  Vine “Vigor”  = the vine’s strength, and how well (and how much) it produces quality fruit. A vine with low vigor may not have enough leaves to provide adequate nourishment and shade for the fruit to ripen, while a high-vigor wine may be overgrown and shade the grapes too much to get enough sun – like kids fighting over porridge – and can produce wine that’s thin and overly acidic.

Vino ‘View:  Every party host has been there: you buy wine that’s not quite as fine as you’d like because you know you’ll be stuck with five (or a dozen) bottles of opened wine. We’ve found a solution: VineyardFresh, an aerosol Argon product that protects your wine so you can buy better wine, open more bottles, and be confident that it will be fresh a week from now.

vineyardfreshvinfresh-label

Argon is heavier than air, so when you give a bottle two quick bursts of 100 percent Argon gas, you create a barrier between the wine and the air, and stop oxidation – and it works. I kept a bottle of pricey Bordeaux for about 10 days; when I poured a glass after that time it smelled and tasted as if I’d just opened the bottle. One canister (though it’s so lightweight it feels empty) preserves 50 bottles of wine, guaranteed. I’m taking  VineyardFresh as hostess gifts instead of wine this holiday season. (www.vineyardfresh.com, $29.95 set of 2)

Cheers,

Mary

[Photo, “Making the wine 2012 edition,” by Wayne Marshall courtesy of flickr.com]

Sniff Your Wine, Prevent Alzheimer’s?

People who know wine are forever swirling and sniffing it. Swirl and sniff, swirl and sniff, sometimes several times before each taste. You might think they’re being silly, even pretentious, but in addition to enhancing the wine’s taste they’re actually boosting their brain power: scientists recently discovered that inhaling those exquisite aromas just might keep you from getting Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s diseases.

mr-sniff

Vinepair reports that researchers at the Cleveland Clinic Lou Ruvo Center for Brain Health in Las Vegas studied the brains of 13 master sommeliers and 13 people who, in the scientists’ words, held “less interesting jobs.” They found the sommeliers, who sniff and taste wine every day, were less likely to get Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s than those who don’t smell for a living.

It turns out the parts of the brain that control smell, also control memory. It’s no surprise that our memory regions are the first to decline when a neurodegenerative disease such as Alzheimer’s sets in. And we’ve known for a long time that these same regions – the right insula and entorhinal cortex, if you must know – also identify aromas for us. But this study, published in the journal Frontiers in Human Neuroscience, is the first time scientists have documented that those areas not only become thicker when we smell a lot, but that thicker brain-parts means less risk of Alzheimer’s. “Smell lots of wine, build resistance to memory loss,” researchers wrote.

So when it comes to staying sharp and knowing your wines, (brain) size does matter. They called this a pilot study on “expertise in the brain” – isn’t that a great phrase? And those who smell deeply every day, exercising that part of the brain, apparently strengthen not only their ability to smell better – a critical skill for wine pros – but also their memory, another requirement for sommeliers who must remember vintages, soils, weather patterns and other details that make them wine experts.

But you don’t have to be a master sommelier to thicken-up your sniffing and memory quarters. It is true, researchers wrote, that “these differences [between the brains of professional sniffers and non-professionals] suggest that specialized expertise and training might result in enhancements in the brain…” But if you drink wine – or spirits, or beer – you might be able to sharpen your own memory and head off dementia by sniffing what’s in your glass and, with every sip, reaching with your mind to identify the smells.

This jibes, in an indirect way, with what a friend told me years ago. This lady, a nurse by training, built the first Alzheimer’s facilities in Ohio. We were talking about exercising our brains by doing mental calisthenics – crossword puzzles, Sudoku and other brainy games. She said those activities were fine, but a better tactic is to keep learning. Take a class – learn a language, visit new lands, keep exposing yourself to new information and memorize as much as you can.

She forgot to add, it helps to sniff and sip wine while you’re doing it. All of that learning is thirsty work.

(And if your friends, family, good-looking neighbors, UPS delivery person and other contacts enjoy learning, too, please share via the social media buttons below. Thanks!)

Wine Lingo of the Day: Brett” is short for Brettanomyces, a yeast that can infect a barrel, a vineyard or an entire winery. It produces an unfortunate smell in the wine that will remind you of horses or a barn. At the same time, a tiny amount of Brett actually can improve the wine’s complexity. At that very low level, the Brett smell often dissipates with decanting and swirling.

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Vino ‘Views:  Brett is on my mind this week because I thought I detected a slight smell in my wine the other night. I was drinking one of my favorites, 2013 Montes Alpha Carmenère (14.5% alcohol, $25), and I wondered if it was infected. But after a brief decanting, the Brett aroma was gone and  an earthy, sultry suede layered with French roast coffee emerged – and, in fact, the winemaker suggests decanting the wine for 30 minutes. The tannins were medium-low but the taste of thick grape peel lingered on the finish, with a hint of cantaloupe rind. On the second day the manly leather character softened to a plum, slightly floral taste. I’d saved this bottle for a cool fall evening; the Carmenére’s high alcohol level warmed me in my chilly living room. This wine is a BIG Sexy Red, and I loved it.

Stay warm,

Mary

[Photo: “Mr. Sniff” by Mário Fernandes, courtesy of Flickr. Montes Alpha Carmenère sent to BigSexyReds for review.]

 

 

Raise a Glass to Grandma (and Gramps)!

Thanks to President Jimmy Carter, the first Sunday after Labor Day is dedicated to our parents’ parents – National Grandparents Day. The day was created by a West Virginia woman named Marian McQuade who, if you look up her photo online, bears an uncanny resemblance to Betty Crocker.

The poet Ogden Nash wrote, “When grandparents enter the door, discipline flies out the window.” So how will you honor your elders tomorrow, September 11?

One website suggests visiting Grandma in a nursing home – pretty ageist, don’t you think? Most grandparents I know would rather spend the day hiking, or playing a game of softball with the grandkids. Mine weren’t quite that active by the time I came along, but I know they would have wanted the celebration to include alcohol.

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Grandma Mihaly was a whiskey drinker – a shot with every meal. She had low blood sugar and said whiskey was better for her teeth than a candy bar. (Makes sense to me.)

My mom was a grandmother, too. For decades she drank “highballs,” usually Canadian Club and soda. But in the mid-1970s she and my dad visited Paris, their first trip across the pond, and Mom came home from that trip a wine drinker. From then on, she always asked for Chablis.

You don’t often hear people order “Chablis” in restaurants and clubs anymore. It’s more fashionable to ask for Chardonnay, which is the grape that makes Chablis.

It’s not as confusing as it sounds. Chablis is a small region in the northern part of Burgundy, France. If you live in Chablis and want to start a vineyard, the only grape you may grow is Chardonnay. (Yes, the French government tells vineyard owners which grapes  they’re allowed to grow, how many vines they may plant per acre, and a lot of other rules that winegrowers in the U.S. don’t have to follow.) Chablis produces some 32 million bottles a year, and you can expect all of it to be deliciously dry.

So, all “Chablis” from Burgundy is really Chardonnay. It tastes more crisp and light than the full-bodied, creamy Chardonnay from California, partly because the limestone soil in Chablis lends a steely minerality to the grapes. Not all wine labeled “Chablis” is produced in Burgundy, but it’s all Chardonnay, and almost all white wine from Burgundy is Chardonnay. (A small percentage of white from Burgundy is made with Aligoté, a less prominent grape variety.)

I guess that is slightly confusing. So let’s keep it simple: if you’re celebrating Grandparents Day, you might want to take the folks a nice bottle of Chardonnay – or Chablis, if they like their white wines a bit more racy. Pair it with goat cheese, maybe a wheel of goat cheese brie with apple wedges and almonds.

Wine Lingo of the Day:  Vitis vinifera = the grapes from which 99.9 percent of all wines in the world are made, according to The Wine Bible by Karen MacNeil. Vitis is the genus and vinifera is the species. Chardonnay, Merlot, Riesling, Cabernet Sauvignon and most other familiar grape varieties are vinifera; out of about 60 species of vitis, vinifera is the only one native to Europe.

Vino ‘View:  It was a warm evening this summer when I cracked a bottle of 2013 Broken Dreams  Chardonnay (13.5 percent alcohol, $18.99) from SLO Down Wines in Napa, so I was glad to discover it was a French-style Chard – meaning, it would have that lemony, mineral quality typical 

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of French Chardonnays. It’s fruitier and lighter-bodied than most California Chards; aromas of banana and cantaloupe led the way to my tart, lemony first taste. After a few minutes the wine  mellowed to an orange zest taste with the slightest bread undertone, a pleasant surprise alongside the fruit I was tasting. Dinner with my wine was a salad – greens, chicken,  mandarin oranges and sliced almonds – a pairing that worked. Because of the weather, I was glad the wine didn’t have that thick, tongue-coating sensation, nor did it pretend to be a Sauvignon Blanc – but it is citrusy.

Cheers to you and your grandparents!

Mary

[Chablis photo: “Dauvissat” by D. Potera via Flickr; Broken Dreams photo provided by SLO Down Wines.]