February 22, 2019

Wine Diary: Friends’ Wine Saperavi 2016

The first time I tried Saperavi it was in a bottle shaped like a bear hugging a tree trunk. I knew I was rolling the dice when I bought it; there were wine stains on the outside that looked like they leaked from inside, and if wine can get out air can get in, but when was I going to have another chance to drink wine from a tree trunk that a bear was hugging?

As I suspected, it was oxidized, which was disappointing, because after reading up on the history of Saperavi and winemaking in Georgia, I really wanted to try it. This marked the beginning of my journey to find a good bottle of Saperavi wine. It’s been a long road and I’ve had a lot of bad luck with this grape, but here we are, I finally found a bottle worth talking about.

Unfortunately, there isn’t a lot of information out there about this wine. According to the bottle, “Friends’ Wine is hand made by three friends at Gio’s Marani, a small winery in the Kakheti region of Georgia.” However, the website for Gio’s Marani has no information about it and it isn’t listed among their wines. I suspect it’s made at the winery, but not by the winery. Curiously, the importer’s website also has no information and doesn’t include this label on the list of wines they carry. I was able to find a Facebook business page for the wine, but even that contains sparse information.

So, I don’t have a lot to work with for this blog. I don’t if the wine was made in Qvevri, steel tanks, or oak barrels, what kind of yeast they used, what kind of fining or filtering process they chose, or if the wine is biodynamic, natural, organic, or whatever. For all I know, holy virgins massaged the grapes as they were plucked from the vines, or maybe underpaid cyborg laborers on, the verge of revolution, were forced to work harvest under threat of violence toward their families. Beyond that it’s a Saperavi wine from the Kakheti region of the Republic of Georgia, I got nothing.

What I do know is how I felt about the wine. Like I said in the beginning, I’ve had a lot of bad luck with Saperavi. This grape has a funky, earthy, barnyard character that I didn’t fully appreciate when I first got into wine. I don’t think this is for everyone, in the same way that funky cheese isn’t for everyone, but for those who appreciate complexity and range of flavor, it can be divine. On the nose, I picked up a raspberry aroma intermingled with that previously mentioned funk, but the flavor fell more in the range of blackberry with an earthy, herbaceous, livestock on a warm summer day, quality that might sound unpleasant, but I genuinely enjoyed.

This isn’t a wine I would recommend for everyone, but for those who like earthy wines or just want to learn more about wine, this is a great bottle. I would be reluctant to bring this to most social situations with mixed company, but I think this would be the perfect wine to have with venison sausage, game meat, and cheese at a deer camp or a hunting lodge. It would make a nice alternative to the Ding Dongs, trail mix, and Michelob Ultra I had last time I was at the family hunting cabin.

Wine Diary
February 14, 2019

Wine Diary: Mawby Vineyards Sex Sparkling Rosé NV

Okay, how could you not pick this wine for Valentine’s Day? The name has all the subtlety of a sledgehammer, but there should be no miscommunication between you and your date. I’ve wanted to carry this wine at work for a long time, just to hear my co-workers say things like, “The chef recommends Sex tonight,” or, “Have you tried Sex? It’s really good.” It’s the joke that never ends.

Beyond the silly immaturity of it all, I’ve wanted to carry a Michigan wine for a while now. It’s easy to look past wines produced in a majority of the United States, most wine press give their attention to what’s produced on the West Coast. As a consequence, people tend to think the local soil and climate are incapable or producing quality wine. It’s a misconception that benefits the established regions and makes it that much harder for the pioneering local winemaker.

Despite all that, Michigan has a growing reputation for producing quality wine, particularly Riesling. I haven’t had a lot of wine from from the state, but nothing so far has disappointed me. Before the site overhaul last summer, I previously had a review of a Riesling from Left Foot Charley that I enjoyed, but of all the Michigan producers, I’ve dealt with Mawby the most.

For about a year we were selling a sparkling wine from this same line, M. Lawrence Green, at the Chopping Block. I even wrote a blog about it on the company site, encouraging people to try local wines. When I heard they had a sparkling rosé called Sex, I knew I wanted to try it… after all, I’ve heard really good things about it.

Mawby vineyards founder, Larry Mawby, planted his first grapes in the mid-seventies. Growing up on a farm, he always knew he would be working in agriculture to some degree. While traveling through Europe, he was inspired by the vineyards and wine of Burgundy in France. Upon returning home, he set his mind to producing wine in his home state of Michigan. Today Mawby is a small vineyard that produces Pinot Noir, Vignoles, Pinot Gris, Regent, Riesling, Chardonnay, and Pinot Meunier. They also supplement their harvest by acquiring additional grapes from other vineyards in Michigan, Washington, and California, which is a pretty common practice, though Mawby seems more transparent about it than most vineyards.

According to their website, the M.Lawrence line of wines is an artistic endeavor to express music through wine. Sex is described as a “Fleshy Top-40 Rosé.” It seems pretty obvious to me that if sex was music it would sound like Bill Withers, but I guess everyone has their own opinion.

The wine is a blend of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Muscat. There’s some great red fruit flavors and enough playful effervescence to make the wine fun, but where it really stood out was in the range of textures I experienced while drinking it, in the beginning it seemed fibrous and juicy like biting into an apple, by the finish it was more dry and mineral. The best word I can use to describe this wine is “Sensual,” literally gratifying to all my senses, which may be the brilliance of naming it Sex.

If you keep track of my blogging, you may recall that I also recommended a sparkling rosé for Thanksgiving. What can I say? It’s a fun style of wine, that’s inoffensive, and food friendly. Plus, how can you pass up on recommending people have Sex for Valentine’s Day. Just call me Cupid… or maybe Dionysus.

Wine Diary
February 13, 2019

Wine Diary: Mommessin Beaujolais Nouveau 2018


My first exposure to Beaujolais Nouveau was a couple of years ago, listening to a customer complain to me about how popular it had become, which is ironic considering I had never heard of it. People always assume you know more than them when you’re the one pouring the wine. This particular customer was upset that her secret wine, the one that gave her hipster cred, was now so widely recognized and sought after. So, in the same way Groucho Marx refused to be a part of any organization that would have someone like him as a member, it seemed as though this woman was declaring Beaujolais Nouveau had peaked because now even louts like me were engaged in conversations about it. God forbid if the unwashed masses want to enjoy a nice glass of wine.

For me, Beaujolais Nouveau is just another of those wines I always enjoy figuratively, but rarely make the time to enjoy literally. I’ve never had a bad experience with it, but there always seems to be another wine demanding my attention. When I saw this bottle sitting on the shelf at Gene’s Sausage Shop, I decided it was time treat myself, and write a review about one of those tragically fashionable Beaujolais wines.

Founded in 1865, Mommessin is a négociant winery that produces a variety of Beaujolais wines. Their website doesn’t have a lot of information in general, I could find almost nothing about this particular Beaujolais Nouveau, outside of a press release crediting the artist behind the label, Jeanne Saint-Clair, an illustrator from Lyon. I was unable to find more work from the artist online, not even an Instagram page. If anyone finds anything, let me know, I thought the label was very fun and would love to see more of their work.

This was pretty much everything you would expect from a Beaujolais Nouveau, it was light, fruity, had a refreshing acidity, and was easy to drink. Made from 100% Gamay, it possessed a nice assortment of raspberry and cranberry flavors, but was uncomplicated. So, it’s not the kind of wine to sit and ponder over, but rather the glass of wine that makes the troubles of the day seem like a distant memory. It is the personification of carefree youth. It was the perfect wine to sip on while taking photos on an free afternoon.

Despite what my customer thought, I have yet to find a flood of Beaujolais on the market, nouveau or otherwise. To be honest I would welcome it. While this wine was certainly uncomplicated, it possessed more character than the domestically produced, light-bodied wines it would be competing with, and I’m always one to welcome greater variety. Wines like this should be shared and enjoyed, not horded and used as some artifact to demonstrate how cultured of a wine drinker you are. Besides, Beaujolais is hardly obscure.

Wine Diary
February 6, 2019

Wine Diary: Schlosskellerei Gobelsburg Kamptal Riesling 2017

Most of my exposure to Riesling has been in wines from Germany and Alsace, two regions that are often viewed as the benchmark for how well that grape can perform. However, Riesling is grown across the world and I don’t want to be dismissive of how other countries are using it to craft wines. I’ve had some success with Riesling wines from Romania and the Finger Lakes of New York, but I seem to have skipped over another major Riesling stronghold in Austria. Well, we’ve just started carrying one at work, so now seems like a good time to check out Austrian Riesling.

This wine comes to us from Schloss Gobelsburg in NE Austria, part of the Kamptal wine region. The winery is built on the site of an 11th century castle, which was destroyed during the 15th century and replaced with a Renaissance manor. If I understand the history, it now belongs to a monastery, and is being leased by the current operators, who have been running the winery since the 90’s.

The winery has adopted a low-tech, hands-off, rustic approach to winemaking that embraces traditional practices. They produce three series of labels. Bottles in this series are part of the Schlosskellerei Gobelsburg brand, which represents, “the historical fundament of the winery.” This particular wine is produced from young vines, which they claim will represent the character of the grape more than the vineyard.

As for the wine, it had a very nice complexity, demonstrating a range fruit that started out as vaguely citrus and evolved into a pineapple flavor. Also, I found something I could only associate with tomato vine or, at least, how I’ve always imagined tomato vine would taste. I’m not usually one to embrace bizarre tasting notes, but I had distinct memories of standing in my parent’s garden, surrounded by the “green” smell. That’s not something I experience often, so it’s hard to disregard that, even if it is the kind of tasting note no one else may understand.

What I didn’t find was the characteristic petrol, or gasoline, odor that I was always told to look for in Riesling. I’ve always heard it’s more present in older wines, but I’ve found it in young bottles before. It makes me wonder if that character is less common in Austrian Riesling. As far as fruit set, most of the German Riesling I’ve tasted has a lime flavor, usually on the back end, that my mind latches onto. That was also absent here. The other major difference for me was how dry the wine was, drier than any German Riesling I’ve ever had.

I’ve always wondered how Austrian Riesling would compare to German, but I don’t think I expected so much difference as I found, which is pretty cool. The scope of how I understand Riesling can be expressed in wine has broadened significantly after one bottle. Once again, this is the advantage in trying new things. I don’t know when I’ll get back around to try another Austrian Rielsing, but I’m looking forward to that day.

Wine Diary
January 30, 2019

Wine Diary: Lagar de Besada Albariño 2017


In a lot of ways, Albariño feels like the girl next door in an 80’s coming of age movie; I know it’s a perfectly good wine, but for some reason my attention always goes to the more popular, perhaps prettier, wines. You know, the ones on the cheerleading squad. Basically, what I’m trying to say is Albariño is like Susan Ursitti in Teen Wolf and we should all stop being big jerks and start being nicer to it.

This bottle comes to us from Lagar de Besada in the Rías Baixas region of Spain and is made from 100% Albariño. Since I’ve started blogging I’ve noticed a lot of winery websites are poorly utilized with meager content. The website for this producer provides only the most basic information, and there’s a strong language barrier, so I wasn’t able to learn as I would like. Though I did notice they refer to this wine as “a safe bet,” which makes my earlier comparison to Susan Ursitti seem that much less appropriate. Comparing their write-ups and pricing on this wine to their other labels, it seems clear that this is their entry level Albariño .

Despite the limited information provided on their own site, I was able to find a profile of the winery on the Rias Baixas Wines website, which paints them as a small, but proud wine producer with a passion for making great Albariño wines.

Featuring a tropical kiwi flavor and a light body, this wine is aggressively acidic. My tasting notes actually compare it to Shock Tarts, which now means this blog has more nostalgic references to my childhood than any previous entry.

Compared to other grapes, my exposure to Albariño is pretty limited, in fact I’ve had exactly 3 bottles. I was only half joking with that Teen Wolf reference at the beginning; the only reason I don’t drink more Albariño is because I’m always looking for something new. As it stands, I try one every time we start carrying a new label at work. Guess where this one came from.

To me, this seems like a perfect wine for nice a seafood dinner. If you’re on a date, this will serve as a more exotic choice than Sauvignon Blanc. I would be reluctant to have it on it’s own due to it’s high acidity, but every person has their own threshold for that kind of thing. If you get a chance to try it, leave me a comment and let me know what you think.

Wine Diary
January 24, 2019

Wine Diary: Monsoon Valley White Blend 2009

Every article I’ve found on this winery starts with a headline that says something like, “Wine from Thailand? Has the World Gone Mad?!” Which, now that I think about it, is pretty much how all my blog entries start. It is a little shocking, Thailand isn’t a place we associate with fine wine. However, it’s pretty well established that grapes can be grown, and wine produced, almost anywhere, except Antarctica (for now…). So, I don’t think it’s the land, but the culture we’re having a hard time associating with wine. Which leads us to the question, why did Thailand, a country with no wine culture, suddenly decide to start making wine?

The answer lies with Thai billionaire businessman Chalerm Yoovidhya, the heir to the Red Bull fortune. According to the Monsoon Valley website, after studying abroad Yoovidhya not only wanted to create a wine culture in Thailand, but to defy the conventional wisdom that great wines could only be produced within latitudes of 30-50°. Planting vineyards at the 13th parallel North in his native country of Thailand required Yoovidhya to master not only tropical viticulture, but tropical monsoon viticulture. The vineyard was planted in the Hua Hun district of the Petchburi province in 2003, on the site of a former Asian elephant corral. This white blend is made from Malaga Blanc and Colombard.

This is actually the second time I’ve stumbled across this wine. I found it once several months before I had even considered starting a blog. Later I cursed myself for not taking photos of the bottle, because I didn’t know when I’d ever come across another. To my surprise, I found a second bottle at the same shop, I was certain somebody else would have picked it up, but I should have known better.

So, since I tried it twice, I have two completely different tasting notes for the same vintage in Vivino. The wine is between light and medium-bodied, with that honeyed fruit flavor I always want to associate with tropical fruit. There’s enough acid here to make the wine food friendly. Overall, I would say it was an enjoyable and balanced wine, though one I suspect was past its prime in both instances I’ve been exposed to it.

I’m pretty sure this is the only tropical climate wine I’ve ever tried, certainly the only one coming from a monsoon climate. It’s also the only wine I’ve tried from Thailand and my first exposure to these grapes. That’s a lot of firsts in one bottle. Reading up on the wine brought to light the difficulties in producing wines in a region that only has two seasons, rainy and dry. Also, I read a lot about climate classification systems while researching this and was surprised to see widely used climate classification models rejected in favor of those which are only applicable to more specific localized regions.

In retrospect, I shouldn’t have been surprised, one of the classic conflicts I’ve noticed within the wine world is maintaining regional identity vs. broad appeal. It’s exactly what Yoovidhya is trying to do with Monsoon Valley, to make a wine that celebrates Thailand, but speaks to an audience beyond his home country. Wines like this have to compete with centuries of history and culture from Europe, as well as the more recently established New World regions. With climate change impacting how and where wine is produced, I sometimes wonder if producers like this will be given an edge in the global market or if the costs associated with adapting to a climate shift will be too much to bear.

We can’t know what the future will bring, which makes exploring wines like this all the more important to me. There’s won’t always be a second bottle waiting for you back at the store.

Wine Diary
January 18, 2019

Wine Diary: Château la Grolet Côtes de Bourg 2016

Most of my reviews have been pretty generous, even when I don’t like a wine I try to be fair about it. Sometimes the wine might not meet my expectations, but in those moments I have to consider that my expectations may have been unreasonable. At the end of the day, I’m not an expert, I just have a thirst for wine and knowledge. All that being said, I was disappointed with this wine.

A little background, I learned pretty early that red wines from France’s Bordeaux region are the prototype for red blends across the world. As a person wanting to learn more about wine, that seemed a good place to start. So, for several months I sought out small corner shops that sell wine, to dig through their shelves for a bottle of basic Bordeaux AOC wine. In Chicago you can find these practically everywhere, for $10-15. By exploring wine this way, I was able to create a base line to compare other red blends, whether they be Italian, American, Australian, or whatever. At the same time, I developed an opinion of what I felt a Bordeaux should be.

Chateau le Grolet didn’t meet my expectation. Instead of being well-structured and harmonious, I found it to be have an aggressive fruit profile and lighter body than I was used to. Normally, when confronted with a wine like this I would write it off, but there’s just one problem, it isn’t simply a Bordeaux, it’s a Côtes de Bourg.

You see, Bordeaux isn’t just a single region, there are about 50 smaller wine districts within the Bordeaux AOC and each of those have different rules. So, what’s the difference between a basic Bordeaux and a Côtes de Bourg? I have no idea, and that’s the problem. This is the first time I’ve encountered a Côtes de Bourg, it’s not really fair for me to try to hold it to a standard I developed while drinking a completely different wine.

Here’s what I do know, most of the Bordeaux wines I’ve had were from the left bank, which generally uses Cabernet Sauvignon as a base for their wine. Chateau la Grolet is on the right bank, which typically use Merlot as a base. In fact, this wine is a blend of 70% Merlot, 15% Cabernet Sauvignon, 10% Cabernet Franc, and 5% Malbec. While I’ve had other right bank wines, they were more full-bodied and complex than this, but even that isn’t really a fair comparison since they were from different districts.

Chateau la Grolet is named for a 17th century manor that lies north of the confluence of the Garonne and Dordogne rivers. In 1997 it was acquired by the current owners who converted it to biodynamics. The wine is fermented with ambient yeast, it is organic, biodynamic, vegan, and Demeter certified. My impression was that it was a light to medium wine, with aggressive fruit flavors, and simple character.

At this point, I’m really trying to reserve judgment until I’ve had the opportunity to try another Côtes de Bourg. While I wasn’t pleased with how this wine performed, I wonder if I would have felt differently if I wasn’t expecting it to be something else. It seems clear the producers have made this wine with great care and I don’t want to casually dismiss their efforts due to my own ignorance.

If you’re looking for a basic Bordeaux, this is not a wine I would recommend. I think it would be a nice pairing for some fish, poultry, and pork dishes, but I would avoid pairing it with red meat. However, it is smooth enough that you don’t have to drink it with a meal. This also could be a good bottle to share with someone who tends to favor lighter reds or finds tannin disagreeable.

At least, that’s what I think. If you have the chance to try it, leave me a comment and let me know what you think.

Wine Diary
January 9, 2019

Wine Diary: Painted Wolf the Den Pinotage 2017


If you look at my life, it’s only natural that I would develop an affinity for Pinotage. Just tell me something is popular and I’ll give you a list of reasons why it sucks. A musician clawed their way to the top and got a Pepsi endorsement deal? They’re a sellout. The #1 movie in the country right now? It’s full of plot holes and soundtrack is bullshit. Of course, the opposite is also true. You found an indie comic book by a barely competent writer/ artist duo? It’s a masterpiece. There’s a grape so reviled that you can’t even discuss it’s wine without saying something unflattering? I must try it. I am, if nothing else, counterculture to a flaw.

There’s a piece of conventional wisdom around wine labeling that says, “if you put an animal on the label, people will buy it.” I’ve heard this trend bemoaned by wine enthusiasts, but I’ve also watched it in action. Working for a wine retailer, I really can’t complain. Most of this is just an attempt to create a recognizable brand to promote sales of a product. Maybe the owner really does love their dog a lot, but that’s not why they’re putting Fido on the label. With Painted Wolf it seems different, it’s not just a dog on the label, it’s an endangered species.

It’s fashionable for every organization to have a pet charity, something they can point at to show the world they’re not complete scumbags, but rarely have I seen that charity be the central focus of a brand. In the case of Painted Wolf, part of the proceeds from each bottle of wine sold are donated to conservation groups like Tusk and the Endangered Wildlife Trust, but beyond that the entire brand is created with the intention of raising awareness for the endangered African wild dog.

So, yeah, they put a dog on the label to get your attention, because if something isn’t done, it won’t exist in the future. Even if you hate the idea of animals on labels, this seems pretty justifiable. I mean, it’s not like Querceto was trying to save the unicorns.

As for the wine itself, the grapes are harvested from Swartland and Paarl, NE of Cape Town, South Africa. French and American oak staves were used during fermentation, and the wine was pressed off into old French and American oak barrels. 15% of the 2018 vintage was blended into the 2017 before the wine was bottled, a process I am completely unfamiliar with. It has nice cherry and allspice aromas, with flavors of blackberry, raspberry, smoke, and wet leaves. Really nice complexity, but still easy to drink.

I’ve always felt Pinotage was the underdog of the wine world, it’s probably one of the things that has drawn me to it. So, maybe it’s appropriate for them to have dogs on the label, whatever the reason.

Wine Diary
January 2, 2019

Wine Diary: Reunión Malbec 2017

It’s not a good idea to form sentimental attachments to the things you sell, but this wine has always been kind of special to me. To start with, I was in the meeting when we decided to start carrying it. The long table on label looks similar to the table in our center kitchen, and serves as a kind of metaphor for me, about how food and wine bring people together. That was the deciding factor for me, the reason I wanted this bottle out of a short list of other Malbec wines we were looking at; whether our values aligned with the producer or I was just imposing them on a drawing of a table they put on the front of their bottle, I felt like this was more than just a wine to sell, but a representation of who we were.

The grapes come from the Valle de Uco in Mendoza, Argentina, grown by a family-run winery called R.J. Viñedos. According to what little information I can find, the grapes are sustainably raised and the wine is bottled by the producer. Soil in that region is classified as alluvial, and the average annual temperature is 14ºC (57ºF). The tech sheet provided by the importer says the wine spends five months in a combination of French and American oak. I was also able to verify this wine is produced vegan through e-mail correspondence with the importer.

With Reunión I feel R.J. Viñedos has struck a nice balance with a wine that is both easy drinking and complex. The black fruit flavors give way to earthy highlights with a mellow tannic finish. The final product is a wine that is bold enough to pair with red meat, but light enough work with fish or poultry. It’s rare for a wine to have both character and versatility, but this is why it has become such a successful addition to our list.

Over the holidays we hosted a lot of company parties and poured a lot of wine. During one particular party I was confronted by the thing I hate dealing with the most, a wine snob. There’s an old adage that says, “The customer is always right,” though it would be more accurate to say, “A good employee should always pretend the customer is right, even if he’s being a jackass.”

As with all of our private events, the wines were selected in advance and specified in contract. When one of the company bigwigs showed up, none of the wines they selected were refined enough for his delicate palate, Reunión included. I was tasked with finding a suitable replacement, which usually means opening up bottles with higher price tags. At one point during this process the guy even pulled me aside to tell me how bad he thought Reunión was, looking for me to validate his expensive taste. I smiled and nodded, because that’s the job and, at the end of the day they were spending more money for me to play along.

Why should I care if he doesn’t like the wine I sell? It was like he had called one of my kids ugly.

Like I said, it’s probably better that I don’t form some kind of sentimental attachment to a wine that I’m selling, but in this case I just can’t seem to help it. Over the past two years I’ve accumulated a lot of fond memories around Reunión, whether it’s chatting with guests as I taste this wine out during happy hour or chef Guillermo mocking my terrible Spanish pronunciation every time I fail to trill an “r,” whenever I see the label I’m overcome with nauseatingly sappy emotions.

On the other hand, maybe having a bias is good sometimes, because when I recommend this wine to guests, I’m doing it honestly.

Wine Diary
December 27, 2018

Wine Diary: Aurelia Visinescu Nomad Fetească Neagră 2014

In December of 2017 I fell in love with Romanian wine. I was on a budget and looking for something a decent, but not mass produced; Champagne taste on a beer budget, as they say. In a small store just North of where I work in Lincoln Square, I found a corner store that has a large specialty selection of Eastern European wines at prices comparable to anything on the bottom shelf of the grocery store. It seemed too good to be true, but I bought a bottle, because the worst thing that could happen was that it would be a learning experience. As it turns out, I had just stumbled down a rabbit hole that would led me into a series of incredible wine experiences over the next year.

Aurelia Visinescu Nomad Fetească Neagră red wine

Up until this time I bought my wines based on either 1) a region I was vaguely familiar with, but wanted to learn more about or 2) Bordeaux. Trying my first Romanian wine wasn’t necessarily an epiphany, but it was a positive experience. It showed me that good wine could come from places outside of France, Italy, California, Spain, and sometimes Germany, despite conventional wisdom. So, I went back and bought another, and then another. I started reading up on the regions and regional grapes and then I did have an epiphany, a wine so mindblowingly good I would have put it up against anything I had tried before. It changed how I looked at wine, how I shopped for wine, and has rewarded me over and over during the course of the last year. This wine, Nomad Fetească Neagră, was one of those experiences.

Produced in the region of Dealu Mare, Southeast of the Carpatian Mountains, specifically near the village of Săhăteni, this is Nomad Fetească Neagră. According to Aurelia Visinescu’s website, the Nomad line is intended to represent a modern style of wine. My previous experiences with Fetească Neagră have been fairly lackluster. I’ve often told people, if you plan to try Romanian wine, buy white not red, because that is where I found my superior experiences, until I bought this bottle. This is, hands down, the best Fetească Neagră wine I have ever had. It’s also the only one I’ve had that has seen oak aging, which it responded to very well. Flavors of plum and cranberry mingled with clove for a complex wine, with solid tannin, and a long finish.

My introduction to Romanian wines has emboldened me to explore several new areas and to never be dissuaded by regional criticisms. While that attitude has led me to discover great wines from many places, I keep coming back to Romania. There’s something about their wines that just excites me and no matter how many times I tell people, they still seem surprised that I’m endorsing wine from that region.

Let’s be perfectly frank, I’ve had more bad wine from California than anywhere else in the world, where’s the risk in trying something new?

Wine Diary