Wine Lists and Hidden Gems

We dined out the other night with some friends. Having lived for more than a decade in a small town with limited dining options, I appreciate the diversity of good restaurants in Columbia.

I discovered an interesting bottle of red on the wine list. It’s funny how sometimes something just jumps out at you. I happen to know that the chef has an eye for unusual wines and tries to put some good buys on the list.

It reminded me of something I read on Serious Eats a while back. Deb Harkness (of Good Wine Under $20 fame) wrote about the mark-up on wine in restaurants and corkage fees. The comments reflected a wide range of feelings on the subject – some rather strong feelings I might say.

The more I considered it, I realized her feelings of being ripped off aren’t really justified. Everything has a different mark-up in the restaurant business. Your bottle of wine is a veritable bargain compared to the margin on a glass of ice tea or a cup of coffee. The difference with wine is that you frequently know exactly how much it costs retail.

I know all too well the slim margins most restaurants operate on. I can’t begrudge them making money where they can. I do chuckle at the whopping mark-ups on certain wines. How often have you seen a bottle of $4 white zinfandel for $20? Or better yet, the same $4 wine for $5 a glass? It gives me yet another reason I’m glad I don’t drink white zin.

I will admit that I look for bargains on wine lists. Sometimes you find a bottle that they haven’t marked-up very sharply. Or, I look for something I don’t see in retail stores. Restaurants get access to wines that wine shops don’t. It’s all about being a savvy wine drinker.

If you order a bottle of Cakebread, Silver Oak or Justin, you know you’re going to get your rear end burned on the price – likewise with the popular, low-end wines. It’s the off-beat, middle-range wines that are often the best deal.

Back to our lovely dinner at Motor Supply Company, I picked out a bottle of Tandem Peloton Red California 2006. One of my first rules for shopping a wine list is to go right for the “Other Reds” category.

This bottle was $38 and it retails for $25-ish (which I didn't know, by the way). Not bad, especially when you consider it’s probably difficult to find in my local retailers. It’s a eclectic blend of pinot noir, zinfandel, carignane, sangiovese, syrah, chardonnay, gewürztraminer and pinot meunier.

How's that for an “Other Red?”

The grapes are sourced from all over Sonoma and beyond, hence the California designation. It’s a prime example of what a careful hand can do with blending. It’s shows the delicate raspberry and strawberry of pinot noir, the earthy smoke of carignane, the spice of zin, and the complex undertones of the other players.

I was more than happy to hand over the $38, especially at a time when so many independent restaurants are struggling. Here’s to all the sommeliers, chefs and owners who put hidden gems on their lists for the more adventurous among us.

Cheers.

Trailer Park Wine Tie

Hi, my name is John, and I'm a wine geek.

It may be an indication that I've opened a few too many bottles in my day, but I've learned a thing or two about the nitty gritty of serving wine. One thing I've learned is that no matter how good one's pouring technique is, you're bound to drip wine on something you shouldn't.

I won't claim to have invented this, but it's a helpful trick -- even if it is a little trailer-esque.

Step one:

Start with a single sheet of choose-a-size paper towel. You can use a larger size, but it doesn't work as well.


Step two:

Fold lengthwise in thin (somewhat less then 1 inch) strips.


Step three:

Keep folding over until completely folded.


Step four:

Wrap around the neck of a wine bottle and tie it end-over-end. Slide down neck of bottle until snug.


Viola! You have some extra insurance against red wine stains on your white tablecloth.

Of course, if you love red wine, what in the world are you doing with a white tablecloth? Get a black one and be done with it.

Incidentally, this is absolutely Earth-friendly. The Trailer Park Wine Tie is easily re-used on another bottle. If it has a little wine on it, so what? It's not like you'll get cooties from it. Or, untie it, unfold it and use it to clean something. When you're done, toss it in the compost bucket.

The TPWT is suitable for use on everything from Screaming Eagle to Night Train Express.

Beer Weather

For anyone who hasn’t seen this post by Eric Asimov in The New York Times, it’s worth a look if you’re a beer lover. I can certainly relate to the experience of not finding a great beer selection and great food in the same establishment.

E and I enjoyed some NY style pizza the other night with a couple cold Newcastles – and while I love Newcastle – I would have enjoyed some more inspiring choices. The places that have really great beer selections tend to fall a little flat on the food. Not all, but most.

It’s summertime here in Columbia, S.C. and that means my red wine consumption plummets. I crave chilled beverages: chilly whites and rosés, icy cocktails and a nice cool beer.

As I’ve mentioned before, South Carolina recently took another small step out of the Dark Ages when they eliminated some restrictions on higher alcohol beers. It opened up a whole new world of choices in the beer aisle.

The brutally hot weather also reminds me that I should pair my cooking with beer more often. I’ll admit that I suffer the stereotypical wino’s tendency to think of wine as the beverage of choice for food pairing.

For anyone with the same affliction, I’d recommend picking up a copy of He Said Beer, She Said Wine: Impassioned Food Pairings to Debate and Enjoy -- From Burgers to Brie and Beyond. The authors are Sam Cagalione, the owner of Dogfish Head Brewery and Marnie Old, an experienced sommelier (and a real cutie).

Each author makes their case for pairing a variety of foods with their preferred beverage. While the debate occasionally sounds a little silly, it's a good read with interesting pairings and some recipes as well. It should make anyone who enjoys both beer and wine think twice about trying new pairings.

Lately I've been loving the beers from Smuttynose Brewery. I just picked up a six-pack of their Summer Weizen, which is super tasty: nice lemon and orange notes, light but not thin and judiciously hopped. It's perfect for a hot summer evening. Cheers, y'all.

Slow Blogging

A while back, I enjoyed reading this article in the NY Times about slow blogging, which is what I seem to be doing - intentionally or not.

For those of you who are still paying attention, I apologize for the scarcity of posts. There are always other matters to attend to, and the blog is one of the easier things in my life to neglect. It's a shame, because I do enjoy writing it.

When I look back at some of my recent posts, I'm not sure if I can still call Brim a wine blog. Wine has drifted into the background of my subject matter. I occasionally consider shutting this blog down and starting one with a broader theme.

Of course, I have no idea what that would be, and I still wouldn't have the time to write it.

As anyone who has read much of Brim can tell, I'm no wine expert. I love wine. I know a bit about wine. I can drone on endlessly about wine. But, there are lots of people who can write more authoritatively about wine.

I also have a terrible case of ADD and get bored writing about the same thing over and over. However, I just can't bring myself to kill off Brim - not just yet anyway. So, I'll keep churning out the occasional post about...something.

Thanks to everyone (and anyone) who is still reading. I appreciate it.

A Season of Change

A little over eight years ago, I made a rather hasty decision to move to Columbia, South Carolina. I found a house for rent in a downtown neighborhood on a street lined with towering old oak trees.

The house was old as well - not exactly a showplace, but it had a large, fenced back yard for my dogs, a porch swing and lots of character. It was the end of February when I moved in and the trees were leafless and the grass was brown.

I spent that first month or so getting settled, exploring the neighborhood and looking (unsuccessfully) for a job. Then, one day in late March or early April, it happened - spring arrived.

The dogwood tree that I had never noticed bloomed, as did the giant azalea next to the front porch. What had been a dreary looking street exploded with the whites, greens, pinks, reds and purples of spring. I fell in love with my new neighborhood.

I spent almost every evening that spring sitting on the porch swing with the dogs and a glass of white wine (mostly cheap pinot grigio, since I was unemployed). My hasty decision had been the right one.

Eventually, I moved into the house right next door and ended up buying it. My former residence was purchased by a callous idiot, who murdered that beautiful old azalea. To honor that wonderful memory, I planted an azalea of the same color next to my new front porch. There's no swing, but there's a comfortable chair where I can enjoy the blooms every spring.

For those of you who live in colder climes where spring has not yet arrived, take heart; it's not far away. Soon you'll be enjoying what I've been soaking in for the last week.

I hope the photo above helps hold you over. It's not a bad shot, but it can't begin to capture how it looks from my comfy chair. And, since I did eventually find a job, I can afford better wine now.

Your Wine Store, Your Wine Cellar

One of my great pleasures is discovering overlooked wines. Perhaps that speaks volumes about how boring my life is, but that's a subject for another day.

I was browsing the shelves at my go-to wine store the other day and noticed some wines that had been marked down. Among the close-outs was Falset-Marca "Etim" Montsant 2002. Montsant is around the corner from Priorat in Spain, and is a great source for bargain big reds. 

I vaguely remembered tasting that wine at some point in the past, but not being wowed by it. Since it was marked down from $12 to $8, I figured it was worth another look.

Damn right it was.

It's funny how sitting around  a warehouse in less than perfect conditions can do wonders for a wine. This blend of carignan, garnacha, tempranillo and syrah is drinking like a $20-$30 bottle of Priorat. It's big and rich, but not overdone with notes of blackberry, cherry, anise, leather and mint.

I happened to run across this older blog post about it. It confirmed what I already suspected; the first time I tasted it, it needed some more age. Luckily, no one bought it up in the meantime.

Their loss is my gain. 

My Wine Dog

She began her life with a questionable future.

The only intention of the idiot who bred her litter was making money selling “police dogs.” However, when the puppies have a dubious lineage (sorry girl) – and the breeder is widely regarded as a fool – selling the puppies is a tad difficult.

So, she was shuffled off to a foster home, where her world was a 10 x 10 kennel in a trailer park. The foster mom did the best she could, but she had her hands full with over a dozen dogs. By the time I became aware of her plight, she was six months old.

The day I went to pick her up, I loaded her into the cab of my pick-up truck and she immediately wedged herself under the bench seat. After dragging her out for a visit to the vet, she re-entrenched herself under the seat for the ride home.

Her panic at being exposed to a new world quickly disappeared, however, when I took her out to the backyard to meet my two (male) German shepherds. She was instantly the belle of the ball.

The first time I tried to walk her around the block, she slunk close to ground and hugged my leg – terrified of cars, new sounds and just about everything else. Over the days and months to come, her confidence grew and grew. I was training dogs at the time and our kennel and training facility became her playground.

When I adopted her, she came with a name – Peanut. I was determined to change it, but nothing seemed to fit. She was just Peanut. Not the most regal name for a Belgian Malinois, but it stuck.

Peanut grew into an amazing dog (technically she’s a bitch, but it hurts her feelings when I call her that). In her prime, she learned everything from agility to tracking to protection to Frisbee catching. Her primary talent, however, was soaking up as much attention as one cared to lavish on her.

That scared little puppy of long ago was the inspiration for this post, which was selected to appear in "Wine Dogs USA 2" (Giant Dog, $39). The Wine Dogs series is the creation of Craig McGill and Susan Elliot. I owe both of them a long-overdue thank you for including my essay in this beautiful book of photographs and essays by other wine/dog people.

Best of all, I can now say that my writing has appeared in the same pages as Robert Parker, who penned the foreword. I’ll have to bust that out at a wine tasting one day.

These days Peanut is the grande dame of our animal kingdom. She spends her days taking leisurely walks, enjoying long naps and basking in the sun. Her most strenuous duty is schooling our young Malinois, Hogan. God knows, he’s in constant need of it.

My only regret is there isn’t a photo of Peanut to accompany her essay. Here’s one I took while she was on a well-deserved vacation at Edisto Beach, South Carolina.


I'm not sure which of us has been the luckier one.