King of the Lobby and the Sam Ward Cocktail

Happy New Year, everyone! I hope you all have a safe and happy celebration this weekend. It's easy to think that we've invented the concept of big parties, but even a brief glance at history will show that there is nothing new under the sun, and if anything there were times and places where folks partied harder than you can possibly imagine.

King of the Lobby: The Life and Times of Sam Ward, Man-About-Washington in the Gilded Age
Kathryn Allamong Jacob
$33, 240 pages, The Johns Hopkins University Press

Several months ago I received a review copy of a book about the famous 19th century lobbyist Sam Ward. His sister was Julia Ward Howe, known for writing "The Battle Hymn of the Republic". It came to my attention because of his massive dinner parties--he built a career in post-Civil War Washington manipulating politics through truckloads of food and drink. It's always been fascinating to read about the Gilded Age, a period of rapid growth and technological progress in the latter part of the 19th century. The situation in the rural South was much different, such that when the Depression arrived it wasn't really a big transition. It's interesting to compare the stories from my family of the era versus the wonders of the modern age seen in the big northern cities. Even what we think of as "The Old West" took place during this time period as well, a situation much closer to the colonial frontier era.

I'm not going to go into a lot of detail on the book--if you're interested in the politics of this time period like I am, you'll love it, but if you're coming at it from a food and beverage standpoint, that's not the main thrust of the book. There's that standard shock and awe at the volume of food served at some of these occasions (a dozen courses, hundreds of oysters, game and meat and multiple soups and cigars and several desserts), washed down by gallons and gallons of wine, liquor, and Champagne... followed by an equally big breakfast feast the next morning for a different set of politicians. The mind reels and the stomach quivers.

While not mentioned in the book, there is a drink named after the subject of this book. It's a little unusual, but very tasty.

The Sam Ward Cocktail can be prepared two ways, both shown here. In each case you take a lemon, Chartreuse, and shaved ice. The top photo shows a simple cocktail mixed in a glass with the juice of half a lemon, some peel, and a shot of Chartreuse. For the more fun version, take a lemon and cut it in half. Carefully cut off a bit of the bottom so that it will sit flat. Over a bowl, carefully dig out the tough membranes, but reserve the juice and pulp. Pack it full of shaved ice and pour in the lemon juice and Chartreuse. (You will get very sticky while doing this.) You need to serve it right away before the ice melts too much. It's sour, sweet, herbal, and cold, a real treat on a hot day, or something unique to perk up your cocktail party. Be sure to give old Sam a toast before consuming.

Bargain Bubbles

The New Year is right around the corner, and as such, everyone scrambles for advice on sparkling wines. A fundamental problem with giving advice here is that it takes some time and practice to really appreciate good Champagne, and good wine doesn't need to be sprayed over a crowd or hastily gulped before a kiss that you'll regret in the morning.

As I see it, there are three tiers.

Tier I: You are a Champagne aficionado but can also appreciate the occasional oddball like a Crémant de Limoux. Check out Samantha Sans Dosage or Fredric's annual 12 Days of Christmas review of sparklers. They know a lot more about the subject than I do, but more importantly get to taste a lot more in this category. (And if you're in Memphis, stop by Joe's in Midtown and ask for Michael. Tell him I sent you.) I rarely receive samples of sparkling wine, and most weeks it's all I can do to keep up with the still wine that shows up at the house.

Tier II: You want something drinkable, that might even work well with food, but is not expensive. This is where I'm going with the details below.

Tier III: You merely need something that is fizzy, contains alcohol, and may or may not be based on grapes. There are plenty of options around $4/bottle that can be purchased by the truckload, and the unscrupulous can make do with a box of Chardonnay, some sugar, and club soda.

I think both of the wines reviewed here fit nicely within Tier II. First up is an entry from California...

NV Barefoot Bubbly
Brut Cuvée Champagne
$10, 11.5% abv.
Chardonnay
Lots of crisp lemony aromas, with an undertone of lime peel. Tart, with firm acidity and big bubbles. Great in mimosas. This one is going to be easy to find anywhere, and while I didn't enjoy it as much straight, I liked it as a cocktail ingredient. If you're going to make mimosas, make sure to use orange juice without pulp in it. Otherwise you get a mess. And if you decide to incorporate elements like gin or liqueurs, keep an eye on your guests.

Of the two, I really preferred this entry from Italy, but then again, I absolutely love Prosecco.

NV Villa Sandi il Fresco Prosecco
$13, 11% abv.
Valdobbiadene region in northeast Italy
Very lemony, dry, crisp but not tart, toasty aftertaste. Smaller bubbles than the above, and better overall balance. This one was great with lunch food like sandwiches and salads--I've always been happiest with things like Prosecco and Cava that are such wonderful pairs for casual food.

In addition to the above, here are over 30 posts about sparkling wine that I've written over the years, most of which are in the under $20 category.

Note: These wines were received as samples.

Sheep Go to Heaven, Goats Go to Hell

Ah, among the first South African wines I ever tried was this little oddity with name based around the goats on the vineyard as well as the classic French wine region Côtes du Rhône. (Indeed, that closeness resulted in a lawsuit that eventually fell apart.) The last time I had this it had a plurality of Pinotage, a third, but it looks like they've phased it out over time.

The wine now comes with a screwcap enclosure, and the label has been redesigned to reflect a more minimalist appearance, using an ancient Mesopotamian drawing of a goat. (Mesopotamia and South Africa are a good 7000 km/4300 miles apart, but let's not get into that here.)

2008 Goats Do Roam Red
$11, 14% abv.
61% Syrah, 14% Cinsault, 13% Mourvèdre, 8% Grenache, 4% Carignane.

The current wine is full of blackberry and plum, big purple profile. Tannic bite on the finish. After breathing it is much different. With just a few hours of decanting, it becomes a mild and soft wine with muted fruit flavors. Sometimes you'll want one or the other, but the joy of slow, natural breathing is that you can find a sweet spot that might appear around the 2.5 hour mark.

I served this with a savory winter dinner with my pal Paul. Lamb shoulder braised in chicken stock, this red wine, and a bit of butter, combined with onions, diced tomatoes, and various seasonings. I let everything stew for a few hours, let it rest overnight, removed most of the fat, and warmed it up for dinner the next day. For side dishes I've got a batch of homemade cranberry sauce (punched up with clementine peels and juice) and Brussels sprouts sautéed with bacon, chicken stock, and white wine. It's the kind of unbelievably savory dinner that makes the whole house smell great, and you wake up in the morning still tasting the succulent flavors coaxed out of the lamb bones.

P.S. If you enjoyed the title of this post, please take a listen to the song of the same name by CAKE. "Now I just want to play on my pan-pipes / I just want to drink me some wine."

Merry Christmas, Y'all

Christmas in our fair River City is usually warm and sunny. Snow is rare these days, and whatever we get tends to happen in January or February, as in the picture at the right. Wolfgang's genetic hodgepodge includes a probable dose of Siberian Husky, and he's always happy when the temperature dips below freezing.

Growing up it was hard to reconcile the Currier & Ives mythos with a home town that sometimes involved mowing the grass well into November. But as I've gained friends in Chile, Argentina, Australia, New Zealand, and South Africa through this blog, it's become easier to associate Christmas with sunny weather. With that in mind, Wolfie and I wish you a Merry Christmas, and hope that wherever you find yourself this holiday season, you are surrounded by loved ones and good cheer.

A Whiter Shade of Vinho Verde

I love the classic early 90s Irish film The Commitments, and I've even seen the related quasi-sequels The Snapper and The Van, back when you had to drive out to a dark, grimy theater in the weird part of town to watch foreign movies. You kids with your Netflix and iTunes don't know how easy you have it. I watched Chasing Amy surrounded by senior citizens, but I'm not going to explain here why that particular experience was so odd and uncomfortable.

The reason why I bring up The Commitments is that there's a scene where the keyboardist is practicing on the church pipe organ*, and he's playing "A Whiter Shade of Pale". He and the band manager are discussing the line about the Vestal Virgins, stating that they don't understand it, and the priest surprises them, saying, "I never understood that either. It's a very peculiar lyric."

In my usual roundabout way, the title of that song popped into my head when I unboxed a sample of white Vinho Verde (paradoxically darker than the green variety). I know that the Portuguese region also makes a red wine in addition to the popular light fizzy wine, but I still wasn't expecting it. Even after tasting thousands of wines in my lifetime, I'm still surprised occasionally.

2009 Casa de Vila Verde
$10, 11.5% abv.
Proprietary blend of Arinto, Loureiro, and Trajadura.

Lots of lime and orange pith and peel, with a slightly bitter edge. Crisp and fruity, tart acidity, and a short finish. There's a mineral edge on the aftertaste that I like, though with every sip I find myself craving salt and cured meats. You don't always have to match a wine to a food of its country of origin, but this would be incredible with a big pot of mussels and chorizo with a few loaves of crusty bread.


*My childhood church, being of the ancient Scottish Presbyterian variety, had a massive pipe organ that required a lot of 18th century maintenance. The one and only time I was given access to it (not during a service--the sanctuary was empty) I started playing my favorite song that I knew from piano lessons: Scott Joplin's "The Entertainer", thanks to my great-grandfather's love of ragtime. (Of course, he was a kid when that was new and popular.) The woman who was in charge of our little group of choir singers was not a fan, and as I was forcibly removed from the bench, I heard the words that I will never forget to my dying day: "YOU DO NOT PLAY JAZZ IN A PRESBYTERIAN CHURCH!"

Note: This wine was received as a sample.

Buried Cane Wines

In November, I wrote about Middleton Family Wines, a company with winemaking operations in California, Western Australia, and their home state of Washington. Representing the Evergreen State are these bottles from Buried Cane. I don't normally quote directly from press releases, but here's the detailed explanation for the name, which has to do with the cold winters of the region that tend to split and damage grapevines:

Fortunately, savvy Washington farmers have an insurance system to protect their vines from the cold. Using the earth’s natural insulation, we allow a shoot to grow from the base of the trunk every spring. The green shoot lies along the ground during the growing season, developing the buds that can bear new shoots and grape bunches the following year. The shoot hardens off into wood in the fall, and is now called a cane.

After harvest, we bury every cane with a mound of earth. The heaped dirt provides insulation and protection from the deep Washington cold all winter long. If we suffer a freeze that damages the mature vines, we dig up the buried cane in the spring. The canes will have fresh buds capable of producing a crop that same year, and we don’t have to wait two years to grow another crop.

2008 Buried Cane Chardonnay
$12, 13% abv.
90% Chardonnay, 5% Pinot Grigio, 5% Sauvignon Blanc
Fruit forward, firm acidity, peach, melon, short crisp finish. The Middleton wines are all about proper blending, and I think this is a nice mix. Aged in stainless steel, it's a light and refreshing white wine. It's easy to get bored with Chardonnay, but something like this reminds you of the versatility of the grape. In the spring this will be great with grilled seafood.

2008 Buried Cane Cabernet Sauvignon
$13, 13.4% abv.
75% Cabernet Sauvignon, 25% Malbec
Great whiff of green tomato leaf on the top, one of my favorite wine aromas. This is produced with an eye toward a Bordeaux style, and with a bit of breathing dark scents of plum and blackberry emerge. Dark fruit flavors follow, making this a great accompaniment for well-seasoned steak.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

The Naked Grape

"There are eight million stories in the Naked City; this has been one of them."
The Naked City (1948).

"With my naked eye / I saw all the falling rain / coming down on me"
"Naked Eye" by Luscious Jackson

"Jane, since I've met you, I've noticed things that I never knew were there before... birds singing, dew glistening on a newly formed leaf, stoplights."
The late, great Leslie Nielsen in The Naked Gun (1988).

Use of the term "naked" in advertising is always a bit odd, as it rarely refers to what we in the South might call "nekkid". Rather, it's usually about openness or honesty. Here The Naked Grape
is the name of a line of Gallo wines that also includes a Cabernet Sauvignon and Chardonnay in addition to the two listed below. These are fairly basic table wines that are priced under $10 and appear to be aimed at luncheons, wedding receptions, and similar events.

NV The Naked Grape Pinot Noir
California
Proprietary blend of Pinot Noir, Tempranillo, Grenache, and Alicante Bouschet. (This might be the oddest Pinot blend I've ever encountered)
$9, 13% abv.

Strawberry and raw beef, touch of brambles. Light and smooth with no discernible tannins. The finish is so short that you can forget you've taken a sip, but there's a little aftertaste of black tea that shows up.

NV The Naked Grape Pinot Grigio
California
Proprietary blend of Pinot Grigio, Gewürztraminer, Viognier, and Riesling.
$9, 12.5% abv.

Lemon and tarragon, citrus and tangy with a short finish. Ideally suited towards light seafood, pasta, and salad courses.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

2007 Seven Artisans Petite Sirah

A couple of weeks after the big PS I Love You tasting, another stray Petite Sirah showed up at Casa de Benito.

Not only was it nice to try another Petite Sirah after the break, but it also allowed me to round out the selections from the Artisan Family of Wines. I reviewed the other two in July 2009. This particular one comes from the Suisun Valley AVA, a wine region directly to the east of Napa County.

Like with a lot of the other Petite Sirahs, I enjoyed serving this with some braised lamb shoulder and Brussels sprouts, though I think it would be fun to pair it with buffalo.

2007 Seven Artisans Petite Sirah
Suisun Valley
$17, 14.9% abv.

Dominant jammy aroma of blackberry and plum with just a little bit of mint. On the palate the wine has big tannins, dark plum flavors, and a long lingering finish. I found that it retained a bold profile even with two hours of breathing. It would be interesting to see how this holds up with another two or three years of cellaring.

It's been a while since I've talked about bottle design, and this is a striking example. The dark brown glass and dark wine render the bottle almost solid black, with gold ink applied directly to the surface of the glass. The distressed handwriting font happens to use a long s, though I can understand why they wanted to avoid the confusion of Artiſans.

The wine does not come with a foil or plastic capsule. I'm guessing that it was a design choice to maintain the simple gold on black look, but there are some winemakers who are beginning to phase them out. There are some minor cost savings to be had, and there's also an environmental concern: the glass and metal have to be separated before recycling. I won't particularly miss them if they go away--originally they were put on bottles to protect against rats chewing the cork or infestation of cork weevils. On the list of things that keep me up at night, cork weevils rank pretty low. Some producers put a disc of wax on top of the cork, which I absolutely hate. Over time the wax becomes brittle, resulting in a mess when you try to open it. The heat shrink plastic capsules? I'm somewhat indifferent, but at least they tear off easily.

In this case, the cork survived over time, the wine was not oxidized, the bottle looks great, and everything worked out. And no cork weevils either! I still prefer screwcaps for casual everyday wines, but this is another interesting option. Some traditions need a critical examination, like the practice of sniffing the cork or dropping lead pellets into wine.

Note: This wine was received as a sample.

The Latest Pair of Rieslings

Rieslings were one of the first wines I ever tried, and certainly among the first that I purchased legally in the United States when I turned 21. Part of that was leftover from German class in high school, part of it was my German-descended roommate at the time, but the biggest factor was the fact that something sweet, light, and inexpensive was perfect for an inexperienced palate. This is a good and bad thing, because people can end up avoiding Riesling for a few years before they discover the broad range of styles that are able to be coaxed out of a single grape.

This happens with other styles of wine: you start with fizzy, or pink, or sweet (maybe all at once!), and then move away from them for a few years. Later, when you know more about wine, you discover the joys of proper Champagne, rosé, and well-made dessert wines. It's the way that someone will consider Chardonnay a simple starter wine early in life and in retirement spend vast sums on vintage white Burgundy.

Recently I've had the opportunity to receive samples through Wines of Germany. I like their promotional strategy: send out two wines every couple of months, one sweeter, one drier, and typically in the $15-20 range. Here are the latest arrivals:

2008 Weingut Ökonomierat
Johann Geil I. Erben
Riesling Kabinett
Bechtheimer Rosengarten
Rheinhessen
$15, 9% abv.
Notes of green apple on the nose. These flavors follow through on the tongue. It's lightly sweet with a crisp finish. With only 9% alcohol, it's a perfect mid-afternoon wine with a late lunch, or something to go along with a salad course at a longer dinner.

2008 Weingut K.F. Groebe
Riesling
Westhofener Aulerde
Rheinhessen
$17, 13% abv.
This wine bears the VDP eagle. Aromas of apricot and minerals. Nicely dry, with firm acidity and a floral aftertaste. I paired this one with a bacon-wrapped pork filet and some braised greens.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

Benito vs. the Cocktail: The Alamagoozlum

The other day I was nosing through my copy of Vintage Spirits and Forgotten Cocktails: From the Alamagoozlum to the Zombie 100 Rediscovered Recipes and the Stories Behind Them by Ted Haigh, a.k.a. Dr. Cocktail. I wanted to try something different, something that might take advantage of the various odd bits and ingredients I've accumulated over the years. At some point you stare at that bottle of obscure liqueur and wonder if it will ever get finished. After flipping around at random, I decided to start at the beginning, and realized that I had everything necessary to make the first one listed: The Alamagoozlum.

Haigh credits the recipe to The Gentleman's Companion written by Charles H. Baker, Jr. in 1939. Baker gave this cocktail the full name of "J. Pierpont Morgan's Alamagoozlum: the Personal Mix Credited to that Financier, Philanthropist, & Banker of a Bygone Era."

The Alamagoozlum
½ Egg White
2 oz. Gin
2 oz. Water
1½ oz. Rum
1½ oz. Green Chartreuse
1½ oz. Simple Syrup
½ oz. Orange Curaçao
½ oz. Angostura Bitters

Combine everything with ice and shake it, shake it, shake it like a Polaroid picture. As with any egg white-based cocktail, it takes a lot of effort, and generally you know you're getting there when the tinkle of ice hitting metal turns into a dull thud, meaning that the contents have become one thick, foamy mass. This is very strong, and will serve two or three, but I'd recommend splitting it among even more. The flavor is interesting, but it's not something that you can drink much of, and given the long list of ingredients, you might as well share it with several people. On top of that, egg white cocktails tend to get sort of nasty as they warm up, and this one is so strong that it's difficult to finish a normal serving before it becomes funky.

It ends up tasting like a chocolate soda, which is amusing as it contains no chocolate. The dominant flavors are provided by the Chartreuse and the solid half ounce of bitters. As most of you know, I love bitters, but only a few drops at a time. This quantity provides a stinging, almost medicinal bite to the cocktail. I can't exactly recommend it unless you're just curious or enjoy saying the word "Alamagoozlum!" out loud. There's too much going on, and I can't imagine how many of these you'd have to drink before developing a taste for it. And then you're stuck with loving a cocktail that very few friends or bartenders would be willing to make for you or join you in consuming.

P.S. It is the most unusual shade of burnt siena, a color I've never had the chance to use as a descriptor since first getting a 64 box of crayons as a kid. Thanks, Crayola!

Vinho Verde

The first time I ever heard of Vinho Verde was a little indirect. I was typing up a very odd wine list for a restaurant. I don't mean odd in the sense of being eclectic and exotic, but rather that every grape name was horribly misspelled and there were Chardonnays in the red column. The owner had opted for a simple color categorization, so you had Red Wines, White Wines (confusingly containing dessert wines and sparklers that were not marked as such), Pink Wines, and finally a category of Green Wines, with a single entry: Vinho Verde. I shrugged it off as some misunderstanding, but looked it up when I got home. Despite the name's literal translation, Vinho Verde isn't green, and while it's usually served very young, it's not Beaujolais Nouveau young.

It's a good starter wine for people since it's a little sweet, low in alcohol, inexpensive, and pairs well with lots of different food. It's just barely fizzy, so you don't have to be careful opening it. Just enough to make it a little more fun. I've found it to be a big hit at family holiday gatherings for just those reasons. I'll usually say something like, "If you like lemonade, you'll love this." Takes the fear of wine out of the equation.

2009 Grinalda Vinho Verde
$13, 11.5% abv.
55% Loureiro, 32% Trajadura, 13% Alvarinho (Albariño)

Crisp and tart, very light when it comes to bubbles. Dominant aroma of green apple, and medium sweet. I decided to pair it with some spicy shrimp tacos from Humdingers, the first time I'd tried Vinho Verde with something hot. It was a great match, and it's a wine that's not often thought of in those eternal discussions about what to pair with Mexican, Thai, or Indian food.

2009 Broadbent Vinho Verde
$11, 9% abv.
50% Loureiro, 40% Trajadura, 10% Pedernã.

Apple and pear, crisp acidity, restrained sweetness. The mineral elements and balanced acid/sweetness gives this the profile of a nice little Riesling. This had the stronger bubbles of the two, and I found myself preferring it overall. It's probably the most serious tasting Vinho Verde I've had, while still remaining a fun, casual wine. I served it with Chinese takeout--nothing special or authentic, just random fried rice and steamed dumplings. Again, the crispness worked well with the greasy/savory food.

Note: This Broadbent wine comes in a very tall, thin bottle that looks lovely, but may not fit in some carrying bags or wine storage units. I'm not complaining, but it's more of a warning to watch out for the top of the bottle. Like telling a tall friend to be careful walking under the chandelier.


Note: These wines were received as samples.

The Joys of Turkey Without a Holiday, Plus Sauvignon Gris

In years past I've cooked a turkey on the weekend after Thanksgiving, for the purpose of having some leftovers. This year, I decided to roast the bird almost two weeks ahead of time. Why? I was impatient and wanted some dark meat, and The Roommate would enjoy the white meat for her lunches.

I'm of the opinion that everyone should roast a turkey at some point during the holidays that's not for an actual holiday feast. Declare a random Saturday in December "Eating Day" and invite some friends over to enjoy some good food and wine without the complications of Thanksgiving or Christmas. Inviting someone over to your house for Christmas dinner is a big commitment, and involves that person missing time with his or her family. But if you just say, "We're gonna eat some turkey on Saturday", then things flow more smoothly.

I roasted the bird in my usual fashion (rubbed with olive oil, stuffed with slices of orange and apple) and made simple side dishes of homemade cranberry sauce, peas and corn, and a little salad. For the big starchy casseroles, I generally wait for the holidays. As delicious as they are, there's no way the two of us can finish one at home. I had the pleasure of serving this with a curious little wine...

2009 Cousiño-Macul Sauvignon Gris
Maipo Valley, Chile
$11, 13.5% abv.

Big and fruity, with a round, musky profile. Dominant flavors of apricot and peach, with low acidity. I was really excited to try this grape for the first time, and it was fascinating. Very unique, yet not completely alien. Don't let the name fool you: this is nothing like a Sauvignon Blanc or a Pinot Gris.

So what is Sauvignon Gris? It's a mutation from Sauvignon Blanc. Since it's darker than a blanc but lighter than a noir, what's the color in between? Gris, or grey. But the grape is actually pink. For that matter, white wine grapes are green or yellow, and red wine grapes range from blue to purple to nearly black. Meanwhile, pink wines come from red grapes, which, as we've said, may be as dark as black. With France it gets so fun. Cheval Blanc is a red wine, Cordon Rouge is a white sparkling wine... Pardon my shouting, but I ABSOLUTELY LOVE EXPLAINING THIS TO NEW WINE DRINKERS. It's a total "Who's on First?" routine.

Book Review: Opus Vino

I think every wine lover needs to have a couple of massive tomes in the house. A few old school, huge reference works that cover the world of wine. I store mine on top of my wine fridge, but others may choose to keep theirs with the cookbooks, or in the room where most of the wine tasting happens.

One such book, and a recommendation for a Christmas gift for the wine lover in your life, is Opus Vino. $50, 800 pages. Weighing in at 3.3 kg/7.2 lbs, it's a big 'un. This comes from Dorling Kindersley Publishing. I mention this because I've long been a fan of the DK books--clean design, great photographs, and the wide range of subjects are produced for all age levels. The specific intent of Opus Vino is not to go over grapes or regions in great detail, but to focus on representative producers within those regions. With each section you get a brief overview of the history and style, followed by dozens of paragraph-length profiles of producers.

The maps are spectacular. At right is shown the two page spread for Argentina. The left page shows the wine regions of Argentina, while the facing page goes into detail just on Mendoza.

The book also provides non-insulting coverage of emerging or lesser-known wine regions. And I'm not talking about something like Cahors in France, I'm saying that they have brief but informative chapters on Japan, Brazil, and Cuba, along with information about producers and individual wines. I actually found the information on Switzerland very helpful while tasting my first Swiss wines recently.

Now, some may ask, "In the age of the internet, why bother with a dead tree edition?" Here are my personal reasons:

1) Although I've gotten lost for hours clicking on links on Wikipedia and TV Tropes, I still find that I learn a lot by flipping through printed reference material. I've discovered that I love having dinner with this book, since it's big enough to lie flat and I can just open to a random section.

2) It exists as a snapshot in time. As you add wine books to your library over the years, this becomes a lot of fun. I have older books that suggest that "There's little chance this California novelty production will ever be seriously consumed or collected." Likewise you'll read about a producer, and then in a book 20 years later you'll read about the son taking over the winery--the son who was shown as a pimply faced youth in your older book. This is part of the reason why I collect Atlases. I can get up to the minute, highly accurate maps online, but if I want to see what the entire world looked like in 1985 versus 1955, I'm much better off with my big old books. Because of copyright considerations, not all of this information makes its way online in single, easy to read collections.

3) It's great for friends who are new to wine. There's a wealth of information online, but you need a certain knowledge level about the subject and a certain familiarity with half a dozen languages to work your way through it, not to mention the experience required to distinguish reviews from press releases from solid information. A pretty, well-constructed book is a much more friendly experience, whether as a loan or as a gift.


Note: This wine was received as a sample.

2009 Argento Malbec

I fell in love early and hard with Argentine Malbec because of the generally great quality price ratio. QPR is going to vary from person to person, but in my experience a $10 Pinot Noir from anywhere is going to be a waste of your money while a $10 Malbec is going to be a decent middle-of-the-week, red meat wine. On the other hand, there are people who would never touch a pink wine under any circumstances, while there are those who happily shell out $100 for a bottle of Chateau d'Esclans Garrus. One site that focuses heavily on the importance of QPR is Dr. Debs' Good Wine Under $20.

Now back to the topic at hand...

2009 Argento Malbec
Mendoza, Argentina
$13, 13.9% abv.

Plum and prune, touch of spice, dark fruit flavor, medium tannins, slightly tart finish. As with many wines in this weight class, it smooths out with some breathing, though there's no need for hours of decanting. I found it to be a great match with a grilled lamb shoulder chop and a wedge of blue goat cheese. The name Argento is Italian for "silver", from the Latin argentum. The country Argentina was named after a combination of real and rumored silver deposits spoken about by early explorers.

This wine features a QR Code on a Cellar Key tag around the neck. Unlike scanning a one-dimensional UPC barcode (which isn't always useful without access to a centralized database), two-dimensional barcodes can contain a lot of custom information. It could carry a short message, or a web link, or an e-mail address. All sorts of things. Scan it with your smartphone, and you've got more information about the wine.

If you scan this 2D barcode, it reads
HTTP://SCN.BY/9T9AB0HTW8GNVU

That's a weirdly long shortcut to this page: http://www.thecellarkey.com/argento/malbec/

For those of you who regularly use these, check out my special message in the code at right.

This is the first time I've seen one of these on a wine bottle, but you can see these little patchwork quilts popping up all over the place these days. Unlike previous attempts like the CueCat, this doesn't require any proprietary equipment or software, so anyone can create a 2D barcode and more and more phones are able to read them. From a design standpoint I hope these stay off the fronts of labels, but they could be amazing for the back of the label. A quick scan, and you can scroll through brix and harvest dates and oak types and specific grape/vineyard percentages, tons of detailed information that's not useful to 95% of the wine buying population.


Note: This wine was received as a sample.