Dad, I don’t know what you’ve heard about global warming, but it looks like we might be making a mistake selling the ranch. I know cattle prices are down and all, but apparently a rock ranch might have some value about now.
There was some big study done on Climate Change, and the BC government is thinking BC can grow grapes somewhere besides the Okanagan. And they’re spending money – big money – to find out where. Fifty grand, Dad, and another forty grand from the feds – all you gotta do is plant a few grapes to see which ones survive.
Those orchard guys sure picked up on this wine thing early. Did you know they’re getting a hundred thousand dollars an acre for grapes? Sure beats a couple of grand for grazing land.
Just think, no more dealing with cattle – all we’d have to handle are busloads of tourists lining up to taste our wine. Yeah, I guess the cattle prods might still have some use after all. And how’s this? We could change the barn into one of those rustic tasting room. Yup, you can charge ’em for the tasting. Those Yanks been doing it for years – never give away anything for free.
Maybe we can hire us that cute waitress from the bar to work the tasting room. No, I don’t think she needs to know anything about wine. Hey, I could be one of those wine geeks selling hundred dollar bottles of wine. Yes, Dad, people really do spend a hundred bucks on one bottle – sometimes even more. No, I have NOT been drinking too much this morning. When it gets too hot for California to grow all those Napa Cabs, someone’s going to have to do it. And if it gets cold, we can just make ice-wine. No, it’s a tad more complicated than just adding ice cubes. You gotta let the grapes freeze right on the vine. Remember all those veggies we lost years back? Hell, no problem now. Might have a problem getting the boys off the horses and teaching them how to prune the vines – but oh well.
I checked it out, and there’s even some place in France that’s got just about as much rock as we do – Shaaa-toe-nuff de something. We can hire us one of those French guys to show us how to make wine with lots of points. You know points – up to a hundred. Nah, I haven’t a clue what the difference between 92 and 93 points would be either. But the more points you get, the more money you get – and we want to be selling our stuff for big bucks.
Yeah, Dad, it probably is a good thing they don’t give points to Rye and beer, might drive the price up. Anyway, let’s keep an eye on this. Hell, maybe we’ll finally be able to get rid of them snowshoes too.
Okay maybe a little to much humor for such a serious subject. To the folks at home in ranching country up north, have a look at developing a new business plan. A couple of videos below to shed a little more light on the subject.
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Ah! the Green Goddess! What is the fascination that makes her so adorable and so terrible?”—Aleister Crowley
Absinthe is a making a comeback, but there is a great deal of misinformation on our little green fairy and what she supposedly does. We will get into the subject of hallucinations later. Absinthe is a high alcohol spirit; since it does not have added sugar it is not considered a liqueur. It can be colorless or can have the traditional green color, which is derived from the chlorophyll in the herbs used. Chlorophyll acts almost like tannins in a wine, creating a drying sensation at the side of the mouth. The green version is known as “la fee verte”.
Like gin, cold compounding can be used to make a lower quality Absinthe, by the addition of essences and color to pure alcohol. There are so called Absinthe coming from Eastern Europe that is made this way. I have had some that where totally undrinkable. Some call it assbinthe. The little fairy really does not show up in the bottle at all.
Redistilling with grand wormwood, anise and fennel and other botanicals produces a proper Absinthe. Grande wormwood gives a slight bitter taste, fennel contributes licorice and sweetness. Anise gives the distinctive and defining flavor. Distillation integrates the flavors, giving a more uniform flavor profile.
Absinthe has a reputation of being psychotropic because the thujone present in grand wormwood. Studies have shown that there is just not enough thujone present in the bottle. There is also an urban legend that has Absinthe acting on the same area of the brain that is affected by THC. Once again an other study shows that is not so. Our little fairy has just been getting some bad press. By the way sage and rosemary also contain thujone.
Where did all the railing against Absinthe come from, and why was the green fairy banned, the poor little thing. In the mid eighteen hundreds Absinthe was cheap and was eating into the French wine market. The French wine industry to protect its profits, came out with a campaign, somewhat like prohibition to outlaw Absinthe. The press was used to vilify the product any way it could. A quote from the period “ Absinthe makes you crazy and criminal, provokes epilepsy and tuberculosis, and has killed thousands of French people. It makes a ferocious beast of man, a martyr of woman, and a degenerate of the infant, it disorganizes and ruins the family and menaces the future of the country.” Now, don’t you just want to try a glass of whatever it is that can cause all that mayhem and destruction? The French wine industry used its political might with lawmakers to ban Absinthe altogether.Our little girl just about disappeared.
Typical ad comparing the families of wine and Absinthe drinkers
Abinthe also had a reputation as being bohemian, and a drink of deranged poets and artists. The fairy kept some strange company. Toulouse Lautrec was known to drink six bottles a day. Lautrec also invented the earthquake, three oz of cognac and three oz of Absinthe. If you drink that much of a high alcohol spirit, possibly you may get a little deranged. Lautrec and others where pointed out as examples of what Absinthe could do to the mind. Oscar Wilde had a quote “Absinthe has a wonderful colour, green. Aglass of absinthe is as poetical as anything in the world. What difference isthere between a glass of absinthe and a sunset" This was after drinking all day, mind you. Hemingway was quoted in letter “Got tight last night on absinthe and did knife tricks. Great success shooting the knife underhand into the piano. The woodworms are so bad and eat hell out of all the furniture that you can always claim the woodworms did it”
Degas "The Absinthe Drinker"
Maignan "The Green Muse"
In 1912 Absinthe was banned in the US. France finally banned it in 1915. However in 1972 the law was changed in the US, products containing less than 10 milligrams of thujone, where ruled thujone free. It just took awhile for everyone to figure out that most Absinthes have less than 10 milligrams of thujone. Once everyone found out through testing the thujone level in most Absinthes, and being below the limit it became legal.
The traditional way of serving Absinthe is a wonderful ritual. A slotted spoon is placed over a glass, a sugar cube on the spoon and water dripped over the sugar cube. An effect called louching happens, the Absinthe turns cloudy. Some of the spoons are works of art in the own right and have become collector’s items.
Remarkably in British Columbia there is no upper limit on thujone levels.
We have a highly recommend Absinthe made in British Columbia called Taboo. As a side note Canada has never had a ban on Absinthe.
Death in the Afternoon
I like Hemmingway’s recipe so I will quote him directly.
“ Pour one jigger absinthe into a Champagne glass. Add iced Champagne until it attains the proper opalescent milkiness. Drink three to five of these slowly. I heartily recommend drinking less than five of these, and you may also try pouring the absinthe on top instead; some brands of absinthe will float for a time on the Champagne, and this makes a nifty visual effect.”
Be careful with knives if you are having more than one. You never know what that little green fairy will do!
I am taking a few day off from work, so tonight I feel justified in picking something special to celebrate a clean desk and being home. A bottle of Amarone is definitely appropriate. The bottle I decide on is an Amarone Negar 1961. Yes the vintage is right, 1961.
It was a great year for Italian wine in 1961 – rain and sun in perfect balance. John Kennedy was president of the USA. The Berlin Wall was under construction. Maria Callas was 38 and at the height of her career. Sophia Loren was starring in El Cid, and I was all of nine years old.
The label is a little worn and torn. The fill level looks promising – still mid neck – although there is a little sediment. The cork seems to be okay – solid and removes easily without crumbling. Should I decant and risk adding too much air? I pour a glass to see what has happened to this 40-something wine.
The color is amazing – dark red, with a little orange and brick red on the rim. The nose is equally remarkable – still lots of fruit left on the nose, black cherry with truffle, and a little sherry oxidization odors in the background. A few swirls of the glass and the oxidative aromas disappear.
The taste and finish on this wine is surprising, still full of black cherry, truffles, and forest floor with a finish that lasts for minutes. The tannins are like silk, and there are not enough descriptors to describe the mouth feel and full body. The acidity must be holding this wine together.
Now, there is a caveat to this story. I love Amarone, so there is a built in basis here. But points and ratings have no relevance to this wine. It is, quite simply, a great wine. It is like the Callas aria playing on the stereo – powerful yet filled with grace and finesse. It is an Amarone at its heights. Yes, 1961 was a good vintage year for Italian wines.One bottle left.
This Amarone is a perfect example of why I hate the point system. Is this a 98 or only a 97 point wine? After all, how do you define the difference of a single point? Or has this venerable liquid actually achieved the enviable position of 100 points despite its initial hint of oxidation? It is only two additional points after all.
And if we were to rate it as a 98, would that make it comparable to the 2004 Cabernet Blend IX Estate from that received a 98 point nod from Robert Parker? Hmmm, let’s see. A three-year old blend of 59% Cabernet Sauvignon, 22% Merlot, 13% Cabernet Franc, and 6% Petit Verdot from Napa Valley versus an Italian Amarone with almost half a century of love, care, and passion in its provenance. Somehow, the comparison just doesn’t work – although I suppose one day, some scientist, somewhere in the world, will come up with a formula that proves you can actually make a meaningful comparison between apples and snow peas.
Have you ever wondered how your favorite Gin gets its flavor? Two very important components of this process are the various types of stills to choose from and the method used for adding flavor components. I will be following up with an article on the very different types of still used. For now, there are two basics methods to add flavor, one good the other not so good. Adding flavor compounds or essences to pure ethyl alcohol produces compounded gin. Cheap and not that great, compounded gins are not allowed to put “distilled gin “ on the label. That nasty lemon flavored gin from your youth was probably a compounded gin. No need to get into this any further
Redistilling neutral spirits with juniper and other botanicals makes a true distilled Gin. Every producer of gin has their own recipe, and therefore its own flavor profile. Botanicals are natural herbs, spices, peels, seeds or even rose petals. Each botanical brings different notes to the flavor profile.
Juniper legally is the only required botanical, Juniper adds some pine notes and lavender and a touch of heather.
Coriander is the second most commonly used ingredient and is used in a most of the premium gin brands. Spice pepper and some floral notes predominate,depending on the source. Indian coriander has the most citric notes. Grains of Paradise also lends peppery and a chocolate note.
Angelica root lends a musty earthy note, but in a good way. It balances the floral notes with its dry woody taste as well. Orris root has violet and scented notes. Cassia brings cinnamon tones to the mix. Anise is sometimes used for the slight licorice taste in some premium Gins. Throw in nutmeg, fennel, vanilla and cloves as well. The possible list of ingredients can be numbered in the hundreds.
Some producers use orange and citrus peels. Different peels are chosen to add different flavors. Citrus peels also work well with coriander. Most of the producers try and keep their recipe as house secret, but if you know the basic profiles of the botanicals, you can figure out which botanicals are used.
Hendricks uses most of the botanicals as well as cucumber and rose. Bombay Sapphire as well as the common ingredients also uses Spanish lemon peel, and Cubeb Berries.These berries have pine notes, which I taste as a background after taste. Tanqueray does not disclose their recipe other than listing, coriander and angelica. They are not quite so reluctant a let you know that Number ten has white grapefruit and chamomile. Plymouth Gin is not so shy in listing their mix of botanicals, they use fewer junipers and more sweet orange and lemon peels ,which add more essential oils, along with the usual suspects of orrisroot and angelica. The citrus gives Plymouth its full-bodied fruity taste. Aviation Gin as well as the regular stuff lists Indian Sarsaparilla as well which works well in some cocktails.
Swirl the bitters in a chilled Martin glass; add the gin, and a twist of lemon for garnish. Plymouth gin was the traditional brand for this cocktail but Hendricks works with the bitters as well. This drink was supposedly a favorite of the British Navy in the nineteenth century. There is the out form of this cocktail where the bitters are discarded after the swirl in the glass.
I hate tasting notes. Okay, maybe that’s too harsh. I dislike tasting notes – intensely.
Actually, I’ve written hundreds of tasting notes. I’ve written them on restaurant coasters, on the back of business cards, on program guides, and on god only knows what else. I have also spent many evenings in class writing tasting notes and have committed to memory the WSET systematic approach – I’m sure I can now write a note so anyone who has taken the WSET program would be able to pick out the wine I’m describing.
And I read other people’s tasting notes. Books on evaluating wine fill my bookshelves – lots of pages and hundreds, more likely thousands of hours of reading. I peruse glossy wine magazines, newspapers, and the Internet although many of those entries make me want to cry – bad grammar and a total lack of information. I’ve discovered Wine Spectator even has a game: match the wine with the tasting note plus a silly tasting note generator – fun for a while but the novelty wears off soon.
The problem with most tasting notes is that they don’t actually tell you anything. They don’t put the wine in any context. Is it typical of its type or region? Is it a wine for sipping or one that needs food to be enjoyed more fully? And is there something horribly wrong with saying whether you actually liked it or not?
Most tasting notes are all very politically and technically correct. You put the wine in a glass – preferably the same ISO glass every time so you have a benchmark for comparison. You go through the list for whatever system you use, dutifully comparing what’s in your glass against a series of standards. At the end of the exercise, you allocated points or stars or say it is – or isn’t – technically correct.
Sure, what you’ve just written will remind you, at a later date, whether the vintage you just had tastes like black pepper and blackberries, whether it has some sweet vanilla overtones, or perhaps the zing of lime. But when you get right down to it, most of your efforts have basically been useless.
Where in all these notes is the soul of the wine, the “Ahhhh” that is a truly outstanding wine? Where in these notes is the terroir, the art of the winemaker, the joy and pleasure?
Give me some indication of how the wine affected you. Did you love it or hate it? Was it perfect for sitting on the front porch on a sunny afternoon? Would you buy it for your wife or for yourself? Is this a wine you would take to Mom’s for dinner?
The notes I write for myself tend to descriptors and adjectives that aren’t techno or politically correct. They are about the people I had the wine with, the food or the music that went with a particular bottle of wine. My favorite Amarone I describe as “Sophia Loren dressed in silk and eating black cherries.” Another I describe as “Callas hitting a perfect high C in a Rossini opera.”
Emile Peynaud, writing in his book The Taste of Wine, is able to put techno and art together. He talks of how Bordeaux tasters describe their wines with references to their mistresses, while those from Burgundy use analogies about their wives. Alas, this style of comparison is no longer seen as “correct” although his techno notes still set a benchmark in the wine world.
Most of the wines I drink for pleasure are ones that come from a special “someplace” or are made by small wineries. I guess I am looking for the art of the winemaker. Maybe one day I will find a way to put that in a tasting note.
No, I have NOT been drinking too much this morning. When it gets too hot for California to grow all those Napa Cabs, someone’s going to have to do it. And if it gets cold, we can just make ice-wine. No, it’s a tad more complicated than just adding ice cubes. You gotta let the grapes freeze right on the vine. Remember all those veggies we lost years back? Hell, no problem now. Might have a problem getting the boys off the horses and teaching them how to prune the vines – but oh well.
