Author: Gus Clemens

Turns out we primates have enjoyed wine for a long, long time, and some of us have been able to enjoy more of it than others.

Wine’s history dates back to when fruit-bearing trees first appeared 100 million years ago. Fruit is ideal fermentation vessel. Sweet ripe fruit swollen with microbes consuming sugars and producing carbon dioxide and alcohol lures all kinds of eaters of sugar. Sugar is fruit’s success secret: “come hither,” eat me, scatter my seeds.

Alcohol buzz seems secondary lure, but a variety of mammals indulge. Elephants drunk on rice wine rampage in India. Swedish moose got so snockered on apple wine, it got stuck in an apple tree until rescued. Those animals, however, are cheap drunks.

About 10 million years ago, some of our forebears took it to next level when a gene—ADH4—mutated to created an enzyme that metabolizes alcohol 40 times more efficiently. With that mutation, happy hour lights turned on for common ancestors of chimpanzees, gorillas, and humans.

Why? Scientists hypothesize the adaptation allowed the animals to eat and drink foods others could not tolerate as well. They did not get drunk as easily, and were—thus—less susceptible to predators. Rotting, sugar-and-alcohol infused fruit became a food they exploited more safely than other fruit eaters.

More than 9,000 years ago, human beings moved from foraging rotting fruit to deliberately producing wine. If someone asks why you enjoy wine, say your ancestors used it as a survival tool for millions of years, and today you use it for same reason.

Tasting notes:

• Gallo Family Vineyards Red Moscato NV: Sweet, clean; cranberry, red berries, citrus slice, peach; not sophisticated, but refreshing easy drinker; people who don’t like wine will enjoy; wine drinkers can sip without shame. $5

• River Bend Cellars Sasquatch Red NV: Vivid fruit—blackberry, plum, black cherry; puckering tannin, balancing acidity, lingering finish; tasty, not for fainthearted or newbies to big red wines. $19

• Sean Minor Point North Pinot Noir 2013: Dark fruit, raspberry, blackberry, strawberry, leather, spice; restrained oak, medium body, soft tannin, smooth bright mouth; nice price Oregon pinot. $20

Last round: Wine does not cure the flu, but it fails more agreeably than any other method.

Email Gus at wine@cwadv.com. Follow tasting notes on Twitter @gusclemens. Website: gusclemens.com. Facebook: Gus Clemens on Wine.

Who does not rejoice in a good bottle of wine selling for under $12?

But beware, there is plonk a’plenty where label legerdemain lurks to bamboozle buyers.

If it seems too good to be true, pause. Puffed up suggested retail prices are popular flimflam. If seller claims bottle regularly sells for $20, but for limited time you can get it for $9.99, pause. The bottle likely is same quality as other $10 wines, or the store is desperately trying to clear out tired, past-prime inventory.

The government has rules for labels; careful reading imparts useful information. For instance, the label must state where the wine was made.

California’s Central Valley is heartland of bulk wine. Nothing wrong with that—box wine for your frat party needs to come from somewhere—but there is difference between wine made from hand-pruned Napa vines meticulously selected by experts in the cool of a full-moon night and wines made from push-the-tons-per-acre mega-plots harvested by whirling machines in searing heat of a Central Valley day.

Lodi is center of Central Valley. Lodi makes some good zins; pinot noir and chardonnay, not as often. Check location on the label.

Be skeptical of label fluff. “Our family has crafted outstanding wines from the finest vineyards in California for generations” sounds nice, but doesn’t really mean anything.

“Finest vineyards in California” is blather. “Our family” seems bucolically nice and homey, but the largest wine maker in the world—Gallo—is an “our family” operation. Gallo makes some exceptionally good wine, but mom and pop with dirt under their fingernails patches on their dungarees, it is not.

Exclusive brands—usually found in supermarkets—often are what wine industry calls “shiners.” These are finished wines sold without labels—the bottles are “shiny.” The store slaps a clever label on the bottle and promotes the pour as an “exclusive” offering.

Shiners often are made by bulk producers, so paucity of information is one shiner tell. That said, some good shiners can be worthy. If you find one you like, stock up. Next year the wine might not be so nice.

Last round: Wine connoisseur went to hell. Fortunately, there was plenty of wine. Unfortunately, it was served at room temperature.

What’s with this “blackcurrant” thing often associated with tasting notes about cabernet sauvignon?

There is a reason many Americans are unfamiliar with blackcurrant and have never seen a blackcurrant bush: until recently it was illegal to grow blackcurrant in the United States. It remains illegal in many states; some states ban blackcurrants, but allow red or white currants. Go figure.

The ban grew from a disputed 19th century belief that blackcurrant bushes might carry or be a vector for a disease fatal to white pines. Freaked-out foresters persuaded feds to ban blackcurrant bushes in the early 20th century. The national ban was removed in 1966, but only recently have several states legalized blackcurrant cultivation.

Europeans, especially British children, are very familiar with the taste, thanks to Ribena, a popular sweetened blackcurrant soft drink.

Your most likely exposure to blackcurrant is from crème de cassis, a liqueur made from blackcurrant. “Cassis” is French for blackcurrant. Crème de cassis and sparkling wine make a Kir Royale, a delicious addition to any day.

Blackcurrant and cabernet sauvignon also are linked by geography. The major French production area for cab is Bordeaux, and Bordeaux is a major French production area for blackcurrant.

In tasting notes, blackcurrant usually references sweet acidity and rounded fruitiness with a tincture of tartness and a pinch of palate-cleansing astringency. One wag claims blackcurrant tastes like blackberry with pirate swagger. Garrrrr. Maybe so, matey.

Tasting notes:

• Hayman & Hill Monterey County Meritage 2012: Jammy dark fruits, spice, chocolate, tinge of black currant; dusty tannins; smooth drinking Bordeaux-style blend at reasonable price. Similar to Kendall-Jackson Summation. $15
• Sean Minor Napa Valley Cabernet 2011: Dry Bordeaux blend, but nicely ripe fruits give impression of sweetness; blackberry, black currant, plum, cherry; full body, genteel tannin, sweet oak; not complex, but tasty Napa Valley value. $20
• Geyser Peak Walking Tree Cabernet Sauvignon 2012: Polished, plush; black cherry, raspberry, black currant tang; tame tannin, good acidity. $28
• Chateau Fonréaud Listrac-Médoc 2010: Superb Bordeaux value; tasty red and black fruits, blackcurrant, mint hint, chip of cedar, vanilla; clean, smooth, medium body, tame tannin, balanced, good structure; rounding into fruity-delicious after five years of bottle age. $45

Last round: Yes, I drink a lot of wine. When you meet my family, you will understand.

Wine is among most complex liquids we enjoy, competing with coffee. Continue reading “Wine aromas” →

Spring! Buds break in vineyards. Last lashings of winter are well in the rear-view mirror. Birds sing happily in leafing trees. All is good.

Well, there’s that little income tax deadline thingy tonight, but no need to dwell on that aggravation in a column devoted to humor and the joys of vino.

With the oldest wine festival in Texas—31st Annual San Angelo Wine & Food Festival—happening tomorrow and Friday (April 23 and 24)—let us dwell instead on how to help you get most from the festival in your community, your next winery tour, or tomorrow’s “I filed on time and got a refund” cork pulling celebration with friends.

Five-S method for appreciating wine:

• See. Tilt glass in front of white background to see subtle gradations and intensity of color. Malbec, for instance, has magenta tinge against the rim. Color is arousing precursor of enjoyment.
• Swirl. Exposes wine to air and releases aromas, setting up step three.
• Smell. Masters of Wine smell at chest level, chin level, nose jammed into glass. More than half of taste is smell. Most of us do not get much at chest level, but give it a shot—maybe your schnoz is special.
• Sip. Invite wine to fondle your tongue. Inhale while wine plays inside your mouth to continue smell, note how smell and taste intertwine.
• Savor. Evaluate sip. How were first moments—the “attack.” How did it evolve—the “finish”?

This may seem formal, but it really does enhance enjoyment of wine.

Tasting notes:

• Yellow City Cellars Dead Flowers Rosé 2013: Enchanting violet nose; clean, clearly dry—no off-dry strawberry in this rosé, drinks more like a flinty chablis; it’s sharp acidity and precise expression makes it a desirable pairing with fish and salad; this is serious wine, not an aperitif to titillate and bemuse; label from Lubbock’s esteemed McPherson Cellars. $16
• Christoval Vineyards Tempranillo 2012: Less rustic, more smoothly sophisticated than earlier efforts; subdued fruit (characteristic of tempranillo), hint of earth, lilt of leather, bit of raisin; good sipping wine with enough tannin for red meat balanced by food-friendly acidity, nice finish, reasonable price. $21

Last round: If it’s the thought that counts, think wine.

Wine color tells how wine was made and may tell wine’s age and its quality. Continue reading “Wine Color” →