A Mouthful of Wine

A Petite Sirah Primer

California has claimed Petite Sirah as a beloved native grape, but in fact this grape is a French import known as Durif, now all but abandoned in the Rhône Valley where it originated. The apparent reference to Syrah in the name is not coincidental: Syrah is one of the parents of Petite Sirah (the other is the obscure Peloursin) and the petite in the name refers to the size of the grape berries—definitely not the mouthfeel of the wine.

At the risk of oversimplifying, I find two general styles as I taste these wines. One capitalizes on the hugeness of Petite Sirah, resulting in a wine with incredibly rich blackberry fruit and full body, high alcohol, and often high tannins. The second style seems to tame the grape a bit, focusing on a balance of structure with subtler fruit, some of the black pepper element that comes from the Syrah lineage, and more finesse overall.

Dancing Coyote Petite Sirah (Clarksburg; $20): A Petite Sirah of the bold variety—super-full body, lush blackberry fruit, and surprisingly soft tannins.

David Bruce Petite Sirah Central Coast ($19): Bruce calls this a “Petite Sirah made by a Pinot Noir lover,” and it does show a subtler fruit, with medium body and well integrated oak.

Foppiano Petite Sirah Russian River ($19): Big and bold (over 15% alcohol) and bursting with fruit. Mouth-filling.

Guglielmo Winery Petite Sirah Reserve (Santa Clara Valley; $20): Lighter in body than some, with a berry-vanilla flavor followed by some serious oak.

 

 

Pawpaws: For the Aroma Library

It isn’t often one has the opportunity to taste something completely unfamiliar. So when three pawpaws, in different stages of decay, showed up in a surprise package from a pal in Kentucky, I was delighted. I could smell them before I opened the box: a sour aroma of burnt sugar and overripe fruit, like fallen peaches that have begun to ferment. I opened the box, and found three of the least promising fruits I have ever seen.

I cut into the ripest one longitudinally, and was stopped short by a pit. I cut crosswise through the very thin skin and discovered that each pawpaw has about five seeds in a neat row inside, from one end of the fruit to the other. And around those seeds is a burnt-orange flesh. I dug in and came up with a spoonful of something that had vivid aromas of burnt sugar, exotic spice, custard, and bitter cocoa—like a cocoa crème brulée. The consistency was of overripe mango, with a medium sweetness and acidity and the slight bitterness and astringency of tannin.

I have to explain that, technically, my pawpaws were way overripe. Okay, practically rotten. This is how the old-timers in Kentucky eat them, my friend says. And there’s something to be said for the wisdom of old-timers: The less-ripe pawpaws were more reserved in their aroma and had the firmer consistency of tomato flesh. One is supposed to eat them when they’re still green, with cream-colored flesh inside. I, for one, am sold on rotten.

For more on pawpaws...

What's an aroma library?

The $646 Bottle of Wine

Yesterday I had the opportunity to try Harlan Estate’s Proprietary Red, a legendary all-Cabernet wine from Napa whose 2006 vintage averages $646 a bottle on Wine-Searcher. (Estimating a dozen sips per glass, my two sips each would have cost $10.77 if I had bought the wine at retail or auction.)

This wine has been described by Jancis Robinson as one of the ten best wines of the twentieth century. And the wine was wonderful, but its flavor is almost beside the point. Quality doesn’t cost hundreds of dollars to produce. Supply (about 1,600 cases each year) and demand (given scores in the high 90s, and even 100 in some years) are the key to the price. Wine lovers who resent such expensive bottles need to remember that these bottles are made for collectors and investors who will not necessarily pull the cork. (Your late-model Ferrari may depreciate by 50% in the first three years, but it won’t disappear the first time you use it!)

Still irritated? Think of your three best friends. The four of you are eating outside on a beautiful day, or snug in your home for a gourmet dinner. You’re sharing a nice bottle of wine that costs $25 or $35 or even $50.

Now image the wine costs more than $600. Are you enjoying yourselves more?

Black Ankle Vineyards: Just a Taste

A visitor from Baltimore brought a bottle of Maryland wine from Black Ankle Vineyards, a biodynamic, sustainable vineyard in Mt. Airy. Rolling Hills is a blend of 83% merlot, and the balance of malbec, syrah, and cabernet franc. The result is a merlot with welcome grace notes.

The wine in the glass was opaque purple, with medium acidity and tannin, and a medium-full body—and an explosion on the palate of blackberry and black plum, blueberry preserves, and a briar and toasted walnut undernote. Eighteen months in 80% new French oak clearly appeals to the New World palate, but the cedary note acts as a spice to the lush fruit of the wine rather than dominating it.

The winery is able to ship to only a handful of states, but this high-quality wine could prompt a “research trip” for further tasting—stay tuned.

Vyne: A New Restaurant and Wine Bar that Veers Beyond the Expected

Vyne bucks more than one trend. In a country that prefers red wine to white, Vyne’s wine list comprises 65% white wine. In a country that overwhelmingly prefers New World wines to Old, Vyne’s wine list offers more than 40 European bottles country by country, then groups 7 in a section called simply “New World.” And in a neighborhood (the NYU Village) where all-night party joints prevail, Vyne is a design-y, sophisticated refuge for exciting food and drink. Luckily, this is Manhattan, where Vyne just might get away with it.

And the food and wine menus are exciting. Monika Caha, a wine importer and food consultant, is the consulting chef for Vyne, and the menu reflects her Austrian origins in dishes like kaasknöpfle (spätzle with cheeses, topped with fried onions); chicken schnitzel; and Viennese eiskaffee, a dessert of vanilla gelato, espresso, and whipped cream. The menu offers plenty of low-priced options, focusing on appetizer-size dishes rather than full meals, and includes charcuterie and cheese selections. Non-Austrian options touch on Spain (patatas bravas) and Italy (pasta) as well as gourmet pizzas and a few safe wine bar offerings.

The wine list is given equal attention, and each section offers high-quality examples from the region, plus a few selections for the adventurous. Even the “New World” section is fascinating, with a semillon and a roussanne from California and Dr. Konstantin Frank’s Finger Lakes rkatsiteli among the seven bottles. Each bottle on the list is accompanied by a “vyne fact” about that wine, and a well written “vyne description,” making for satisfying menu reading while waiting for friends.

Having settled in the space above the late, lamented Baggot Inn, Vyne is taking the block in a new direction, thank you. Designed by Jan Roelfs, the Dutch production designer for Gattica and other well known films, the space is dark and sleek. A gas fireplace, painted brick wall, and tufted leather sofas in the center beneath an old tin ceiling nod to the history of the area, but are centered between modern-feeling sections including café tables at the front, and a minimal bar and single, high party table at the back. One side of the space is walled by a lace of cut-out steel that screens the wine bins.

Comfortable and edgy, exciting and safe, Vyne plays with our expectations and offers something a few steps beyond the usual wine bar experience.

www.vynenewyork.com