The Feiring Line

Montesquieu? A lulu.

A while back, you know, I can't remember, last month? I get a call from a very, very perky woman in Florida, I think she said that's where she was. She's acting like my new best friend. 'I got your name' .....hell...I can't remember where she got my name, at a cognac dinner? So I'm nice to her. She asks me about the kind of wines I drink and starts to pitch me on a cabernet. I'm a little slow on the uptake and I tell her she should probably read my book before she starts to pitch to me. 'I'll buy your book but you go to the website.' So I do and it's an e-tailer. We're still on the phone and I add, 'You'll find out if you do your research that I hate the word handcrafted when it comes to wine.' 'Great!' she says. I think she's a publicist. It never really occurs to me that she's out to fleece a red haired sheep. Just now, I see Out of Area on my caller ID. I'm expecting France. I get Florida. She reminds me. 'Hey! I read your book and I think I have a wine for you. Livia Fontana, Barolo. Have you ever been to Barolo?' she asks. At this point I'm eager to 86 her. 'I guess you bought my book but you didn't read it,' I say. She says she did. 'There's a chapter on Barolo there, it's kind of an important chapter. And as a matter of fact Livia is in my book.' 'Oh, you know her!' the woman bluffs. 'I met her. Yes. I've been to the vines and the winery.' 'Isn't she wonderful? And she loves us!' And then? Ms. Perky goes on to read me the Barolo tasting note, finishing up with what foods the wine goes well with. She is utterly focused on making this deal. 'What vintage is it?' I ask. 'It retails between $125 and $150, but we're selling it for $100.' she says with such enthusiasm she is utterly convinced that I will believe this Monday, with Saturn totally visible in the evening, is my lucky day. I think to myself, what happened to Livia? Did she get Parkerized by Antonio? The $ is awfully high. I repeat, 'What vintage was what I asked.' 'Oh.2004.' 'Great. I'm sure it's lovely. I'm a poor writer. I think you have to go find someone with more money.Are you sure you want to be talking to me? ' The woman somehow is so dense she thinks as a wine writer I am going to embrace her sales perky pitch and continues to ask me, what kind of price range I'm in and she has plenty of wines under $25 dollars, even organic and biodynamic wines. 'Listen,' I say, 'I really have to go. I have to meet a man about a dog.' 'Great,' she says, so teflon-like I think she actually might be a smart computer phone drone. 'I'll call you again. And go to our website, the spirit of wine

Montesquieu? A lulu.

A while back, you know, I can't remember, last month? I get a call from a very, very perky woman in Florida, I think she said that's where she was. She's acting like my new best friend. 'I got your name' .....hell...I can't remember where she got my name, at a cognac dinner? So I'm nice to her. She asks me about the kind of wines I drink and starts to pitch me on a cabernet. I'm a little slow on the uptake and I tell her she should probably read my book before she starts to pitch to me. 'I'll buy your book but you go to the website.' So I do and it's an e-tailer. We're still on the phone and I add, 'You'll find out if you do your research that I hate the word handcrafted when it comes to wine.' 'Great!' she says. I think she's a publicist. It never really occurs to me that she's out to fleece a red haired sheep. Just now, I see Out of Area on my caller ID. I'm expecting France. I get Florida. She reminds me. 'Hey! I read your book and I think I have a wine for you. Livia Fontana, Barolo. Have you ever been to Barolo?' she asks. At this point I'm eager to 86 her. 'I guess you bought my book but you didn't read it,' I say. She says she did. 'There's a chapter on Barolo there, it's kind of an important chapter. And as a matter of fact Livia is in my book.' 'Oh, you know her!' the woman bluffs. 'I met her. Yes. I've been to the vines and the winery.' 'Isn't she wonderful? And she loves us!' And then? Ms. Perky goes on to read me the Barolo tasting note, finishing up with what foods the wine goes well with. She is utterly focused on making this deal. 'What vintage is it?' I ask. 'It retails between $125 and $150, but we're selling it for $100.' she says with such enthusiasm she is utterly convinced that I will believe this Monday, with Saturn totally visible in the evening, is my lucky day. I think to myself, what happened to Livia? Did she get Parkerized by Antonio? The $ is awfully high. I repeat, 'What vintage was what I asked.' 'Oh.2004.' 'Great. I'm sure it's lovely. I'm a poor writer. I think you have to go find someone with more money.Are you sure you want to be talking to me? ' The woman somehow is so dense she thinks as a wine writer I am going to embrace her sales perky pitch and continues to ask me, what kind of price range I'm in and she has plenty of wines under $25 dollars, even organic and biodynamic wines. 'Listen,' I say, 'I really have to go. I have to meet a man about a dog.' 'Great,' she says, so teflon-like I think she actually might be a smart computer phone drone. 'I'll call you again. And go to our website, the spirit of wine

31 Days of Natural Wines

Today, it's my turn up on Cory Cartwright's series, 31 Days of Natural Wines. Oddly enough, he asked me to this right after my rant out about writing for free. But, this was for the cause, and it is an idea that is generous and giving and wish I had thought it up myself. I don't know who else he's up his sleeve as participants, but so far he's contributed as well as Jeremy Parzen and Tracie B. And next up, me. For my readers? Fatigue alert: this is a reconfiguring of my Muscadet post of two weeks ago. What can I say? It is the season, after all. Saignee's site

31 Days of Natural Wines

Today, it's my turn up on Cory Cartwright's series, 31 Days of Natural Wines. Oddly enough, he asked me to this right after my rant out about writing for free. But, this was for the cause, and it is an idea that is generous and giving and wish I had thought it up myself. I don't know who else he's up his sleeve as participants, but so far he's contributed as well as Jeremy Parzen and Tracie B. And next up, me. For my readers? Fatigue alert: this is a reconfiguring of my Muscadet post of two weeks ago. What can I say? It is the season, after all. Saignee's site

Gemischter Satz mit Schlag

Vienna has more than schlag, it has terroir. In fact the snow covered Alps stops at the Danube. It's almost like the mountain range gave a last burb and out of it emerged three defiant mounds of rock and loess. Kahlenberg, Nussberg and Bisamberg are just outside of city limits. Cool, no? 1400 of acres of vines, a third of the acreage of Long Island, are in pitching distance of the thriving city of Vienna, home of the Sacher Torte, home to Freud's favorite cafe and home to some of the best of Josef Hoffman's designs. It serves to reason that the end of the Alps has got to have something special down under. And it deserves respect. But driving through the vines I saw farming that made Champagne look biodynamic. Yes, it was that bad. Except of course for the exceptions. Perhaps because he's in biodynamic conversion, Wein winemaker Fritz Wieninger, has become a mentor to fledgling winemakers wanting to go chemical free. Part of this reawakening is a reinvigoration of a white field blend called Gemischter Satz. This GS, has always been the local glug of choice, especially in those Heurigens (those winery restaurants where schnitzel and GS go hand in hand). But the wine just didn't get a whole lot of respect, especially in a region where riesling and gruner are king. Now, this new breed of winemaker, the ones that believe organic or more is the way to go, are making the wines citified and cool. I was slated to lunch with one of them, Jutta Ambrositsch. Hopelessly lost, I arrived at the turn of the century, Scwarzen Kameel, soaked and forty-five minutes late. Ambrositsch, who looked no more than eighteen, sat quietly in a corner booth and was visably relieved when I showed up. So was I. She was a refugee from the graphic arts world. 'I needed to work in nature,' she told me, and started to play in the dirt in 2004. Wieninger actually donated 2.4 hectare to farm for the cause. She is going to start winemaking classes which I hope will not corrupt her instincts, but for now, Wieninger makes her wine. Yes, he yeasts, as most people there do. Yet, slow fermenters, her wines showed the quality of her passionate farming. The girl does good. She grows Gruners and Rieslings but it was her old-vine Gemischter Satz’s that spoke loudest to me. Hers comes from a group of vines near the Heurigen-rich town of Grinzing and planted with about twenty varietals. She's got two. My favorite was the alte reben, with two extra weeks of hang time. Gemischter Satz, Sommeregg, Reserve Alte Reben, 2008 This little puppy demanded attention. So I thought, I can do that. I'll give you some attention. The wine was intense, complex, bounced from this edge of mineral to honeysuckle with a touch of skunk. And that finish just didn't let go. Jutta's website

Gemischter Satz mit Schlag

Vienna has more than schlag, it has terroir. In fact the snow covered Alps stops at the Danube. It's almost like the mountain range gave a last burb and out of it emerged three defiant mounds of rock and loess. Kahlenberg, Nussberg and Bisamberg are just outside of city limits. Cool, no? 1400 of acres of vines, a third of the acreage of Long Island, are in pitching distance of the thriving city of Vienna, home of the Sacher Torte, home to Freud's favorite cafe and home to some of the best of Josef Hoffman's designs. It serves to reason that the end of the Alps has got to have something special down under. And it deserves respect. But driving through the vines I saw farming that made Champagne look biodynamic. Yes, it was that bad. Except of course for the exceptions. Perhaps because he's in biodynamic conversion, Wein winemaker Fritz Wieninger, has become a mentor to fledgling winemakers wanting to go chemical free. Part of this reawakening is a reinvigoration of a white field blend called Gemischter Satz. This GS, has always been the local glug of choice, especially in those Heurigens (those winery restaurants where schnitzel and GS go hand in hand). But the wine just didn't get a whole lot of respect, especially in a region where riesling and gruner are king. Now, this new breed of winemaker, the ones that believe organic or more is the way to go, are making the wines citified and cool. I was slated to lunch with one of them, Jutta Ambrositsch. Hopelessly lost, I arrived at the turn of the century, Scwarzen Kameel, soaked and forty-five minutes late. Ambrositsch, who looked no more than eighteen, sat quietly in a corner booth and was visably relieved when I showed up. So was I. She was a refugee from the graphic arts world. 'I needed to work in nature,' she told me, and started to play in the dirt in 2004. Wieninger actually donated 2.4 hectare to farm for the cause. She is going to start winemaking classes which I hope will not corrupt her instincts, but for now, Wieninger makes her wine. Yes, he yeasts, as most people there do. Yet, slow fermenters, her wines showed the quality of her passionate farming. The girl does good. She grows Gruners and Rieslings but it was her old-vine Gemischter Satz’s that spoke loudest to me. Hers comes from a group of vines near the Heurigen-rich town of Grinzing and planted with about twenty varietals. She's got two. My favorite was the alte reben, with two extra weeks of hang time. Gemischter Satz, Sommeregg, Reserve Alte Reben, 2008 This little puppy demanded attention. So I thought, I can do that. I'll give you some attention. The wine was intense, complex, bounced from this edge of mineral to honeysuckle with a touch of skunk. And that finish just didn't let go. Jutta's website

A Quiet Refuge

My friend Lisa Donoughe, a brilliant publicist/strategist and the creator of the Portland Indie Wine FestivalTEN BELLSPanetteria

A Quiet Refuge

My friend Lisa Donoughe, a brilliant publicist/strategist and the creator of the Portland Indie Wine FestivalTEN BELLSPanetteria

Last Domaine de la Pepiere Muscadet Moment in Paris

It happens; the wrinkle in the brain, the wrinkle in the heart, the moment when I question my life connections. Even though I have spent almost two decades being pulled into a fermenting vortex there are those moments when I wonder if I bored with wine. And so it was on this last trip, I often did wonder. Austria was stormy. Weather continued into Paris. On my last afternoon, after a exhibition on war time fashion at the Musee de la Resistance, I picked up my dense loaf of pain seigle from Poilane. I purchased cheese from ABM to munch when I arrived in New York City. On the Rue Dufour, the last cloud over the city dumped a reservoir of rain on me. Then as if apologizing, that same sprite flipped the switch on the sun. My feet suddenly dry, my hair properly frizzed out, and I was spit out like Jonah, right in the mouth of Fish, the wine bistro on Rue de Seine. Sitting at the bar. I ordered a salad to fortify me for the flight home. Knowing I would be drink challenged on that flight, I chose my wine. When I saw the 2008 muscadet, Marc Olivier's, Domaine Pepiere

Last Domaine de la Pepiere Muscadet Moment in Paris

It happens; the wrinkle in the brain, the wrinkle in the heart, the moment when I question my life connections. Even though I have spent almost two decades being pulled into a fermenting vortex there are those moments when I wonder if I bored with wine. And so it was on this last trip, I often did wonder. Austria was stormy. Weather continued into Paris. On my last afternoon, after a exhibition on war time fashion at the Musee de la Resistance, I picked up my dense loaf of pain seigle from Poilane. I purchased cheese from ABM to munch when I arrived in New York City. On the Rue Dufour, the last cloud over the city dumped a reservoir of rain on me. Then as if apologizing, that same sprite flipped the switch on the sun. My feet suddenly dry, my hair properly frizzed out, and I was spit out like Jonah, right in the mouth of Fish, the wine bistro on Rue de Seine. Sitting at the bar. I ordered a salad to fortify me for the flight home. Knowing I would be drink challenged on that flight, I chose my wine. When I saw the 2008 muscadet, Marc Olivier's, Domaine Pepiere