It’s Getting Dark, Very Dark

Stick a steak knife in me, I’m done. As a goth vegetarian vampire who needs somewhere to put her anger I yearn for reasons slay something, anything, so long as it doesn’t have a heartbeat or a central nervous system. Hence these cruciferous slabs.

I made fun of the cauliflower as substitute-for-everything trend. Especially when one evening, all I wanted was a head of cauliflower to gobble whole, dipped in hot sauce as I do. And the store had no whole cauliflower, only containers of pre-pulverized cauliflower rice. Ugh. And I glanced askance at the cauliflower steak trend. Until, at a couple of dinners where I had no control (as happens to us hapless wine people) over what my meal would be, I was served cauliflower steaks. And they were FANTASTIC.

Still, why bring cauliflower steak home? I thought of it as an affair best left to work dinners and such. A dish to have out.

But then! Beyond the excuse to stab things and eat cauliflower, I had gotten a wine that looked goth AF and was named Very Dark Red, and OMG some steak knives. These Laguiole steak knives were goth as the wine, so I put some Skinny Puppy and Nine Inch Nails on, cranked the oven, murdered a cauliflower, and made a night of it, pairing the knives and wine with the dish.

PS knife pairings? Here for it.

My findings?

THE WINE: Sheid Family VDR (Very Dark Red) 2020

THE STEAK: slabs of cauliflower sprayed with olive oil, sprinkled with salt, pepper, garlic powder, paprika and a touch of coriander, roasted in the oven, based on this recipe.

The two together?? Purrrrrr. I mentioned that in addition to being a goth, I am also part cat, no? This may be the best pairing I’ve ever devised on my own in the wild.

I appreciated that the wine is made of two very big petites: Petit Verdot and Petite Sirah. It’s a toasty and roasty nose, full of grilled plums and stewed prunes, black pepper and green peppercorn. It smells thick, if that makes sense.

Rich on the palate with blackcurrant cordial, stewed black cherry and more plummy prune-y goodness, but also some herbal freshness, even a hint at menthol? Along with charred green peppers and smoke. It is QUITE tasty. The tannins are plump and juicy, which is one of my favorite ways for tannins to be. it finishes vanilla and smoke possibly like goth’s favorite pillow.

Meow.

Try it yourself. Also TikTok deemed a video of me eating my cauliflower with a steak knife as inappropriate and danger so let me say, use a fork, chopsticks or your fingers. But feel free to carve with a knife. Bring on the steak! The cauliflower steak.

Walla Walla Woman Winemaker Wine x Tempranillo Day

Ooooh love a winery with a cheeky name, plus a history that also tastes fabulous and hey! is made by a woman.

In the last few years, my hope for women in the wine industry has grown greatly. In Los Angeles I’m surrounded by amazing women who are bosses at whatever they do in the industry and Get Respect. Despite having felt the need to pen this article about my experiences as a woman in wine, I felt like times they were a-changing. I crave those female-led enterprises.

And then of course I went to a big Pennfold’s tasting on the arm of a male friend, and every single new person we talked to (male and female) was eager to get his attention (he’s the beverage director for a restaurant group) and I got condescending smiles–like they didn’t even think I possibly could be a wine person. Maybe they thought I was the wife? Which I’m not, and even if I was that wouldn’t rule out me being in the industry. Incidentally, his wife is a one of the best tasters I know even thought she doesn’t work in wine. Anyway.

Later that night at another venue, we met the aforementioned super taster he’s lucky enough to be married to, at Wally’s, which employs women…and oh my oh my CAN IT EVER be the breeding ground for toxic vinous masculinity. The three of us were being blind-tasted by our section’s somm (also a friend of my male friend) and I called it a Chablis (aka Chardonnay from Burgundy), and said several times it seemed really reduced, and he ignored the shit out of me. Then mansplained that it was Puligny-Montrachet (ALSO Chardonnay from Burgundy) and that it was “reductive” as if I didn’t at least get the grape and region at large correct. Maybe technically reduced was the wrong way to say it was reductive?

But pretty sure he literally didn’t register that I existed the whole time. So.

GRRRRR.

Anyway. Let’s lighten this up and get to today’s gem: No Girls, which is all about the ladies, and makes this stellar Tempranillo. They have a woman winemaker by the name of Elizabeth Bourcier. The winery got its name for the building the owner bought in Walla Walla which had once been a bordello. At the top of the staircase “NO GIRLS” had been spray painted in the 1960’s, perhaps signifying women finding their power outside the hands of men…at any rate all I can tell you is they make good wine. I had the Grenache on my podcast awhile back, and I saved this bottle for…

OH HEY! It’s Tempranillo Day. Yay again.

Beyond mentioning it is tasty AF FTW here are some tasting notes yay yet again.

No Girls Tempranillo 2018

Deeply hued and murky. Smells of auburn fruit leather and damp earth, plus baking spices, from cloves to nutmeg, with a finish (can a smell have a finish? I say it can) that is saline. Dry dry dry as can be. The silkiest medium tannins you could hope to find partnered with a full but silk-tastic body. Still with prunes/dates/mud palate but augmented by even more potpourri and a certain tartness, like sour cherries that have been dried and rehydrated. yup. And the finish is…Montenegro amaro? Crazy. In my mind it conjured a mincemeat pie that had undergone just a soupçon of smoking, if I am being honest and I am.

I want to wear this wine by a fireside. And also? Fuck the patriarchy.

Yay.

Unprepared Pairing

I don’t drink Malbec. That much. Maybe that’s because it feels so much like a food wine to me, and I don’t eat.

Jk I’m an actor in Los Angeles. I eat sometimes. Especially when it’s free.

I won’t tiptoe around it. Last week, I was on a movie set and saw that craft services (aka “crafty” aka where to get snacks between meals and everyone’s favorite place on set) had…UNCRUSTABLES. That frozen aisle pbj sandwich on-the-go. So I tucked one of the pb and grape jelly ones into my bag for later. Because as I said I eat sometimes, but not on set.

At home, I had it with a glass of Trapiche Malbec and deduced that a) Uncrustables is a perfect food and b) it is THE perfect pairing with a rich Malbec and c) a good Malbec is even better with food.

You guysssss–you know how good peanut butter and jelly is? Somehow Uncrustables has the right proportions, but also is cute, with the fun of the crimped edge that gives you a little extra bread pull in some bites. I don’t know how they do it but damn, it is just right.

The grape-y and nutty and wheat trifecta is complemented by the richness of the Malbec, whose velvet tannins do a little dance with the fatty peanut butter. And the sweetness of the grapes in the jelly are mitigated by the dryness of the grapes in the wine and ALL of that happens at the same time. It’s a gorgeous thuple.

I suppose some people look to wine writing for fanciness, but here I am to advise on frozen pbj pairings. Or maybe I should take up more food posts again–to be fair my last post was devoted to cheese so I would like to think I am doing the good Lordess’ work. And now for your tasting notes!

The Trapiche Medalla Malbec 2020 was made to celebrate Trapiche’s 100 year anniversary. The nose is sweet. I know, I know, a smell can’t be sweet, but it smells of sweet fruit and a soupçon of tobacco. The body is full and tannins velvety. The oak is talkative, and the fruit (red and black, plums and raspberries) follows, then comes creamy vanilla extract-style vanilla. But there is a pep in this Malbec’s step. A flood of blackberry juice mid-palate. A bit of crunchy earth and cedar grip that comes in at the end, so that’s super funsies. A bit of spice and another hit of juice-laden red plums comes at the ens.

This wine is a lot. If you like a big New World red you’ll like it. If you like brawny meat I think you’d like it with that? From what I remember of meat? It also would do well with stuffed red peppers methinks. And it is AWESOME with a grape jelly Uncrustable.

As I write this, I am on a different set, and while crafty did have dark chocolate Milanos and multiple flavors of Nature Valley granola bars (amongst other things), a crafty with Uncrustables has set my bar high for crafty. The Trapiche has inspired me. Onwards artists!

Sex Love and Barolo–playing FMK with my favorites

Oh wow. I’m not sure how, but I got to stay/work-Barolo/Barbaresco-cation. For the Barolo Barbaresco World Opening 2022. And I got to rate the latest vintages. Perhaps it is fate. Like, I am madly in love with Barolo and Barbaresco. Both are Nebbiolo, but Barolo is a little more brash, in terms of tannins, and aged longer than Barbaresco. It only makes sense I’d get to spend three days with them. Me, Barolo and Barbaresco–there’s a threesome dream team.

Granted there are different tiers of love. Barolo is a lover, Barbaresco I’d marry. I don’t know that there is a B in the Piemonte I’d kill. If I were playing Fuck Marry Kill with the region. Certainly not Barbera d’Asti.

Playing FMK with wine. How did I get there? Enough about me.

I don’t have ONE wine that made me realize wine was magic, but a Damilano Lecinquevignes was the first wine that made me go bonkers for a Nebbiolo–like I DID NOT KNOW THAT WINE DID THAT. I also didn’t know what to expect from an orgasm until I had one. The problem with great wine and sex is now I have expectations.

Sex, love, and Barolo. You really can’t take them apart.

If you are not familiar, they are wines made in Piedmont, in northern Italy. They are 100% Nebbiolo. It’s a finicky grape. It is high in everything–acid, tannins, alcohol–and that is perhaps what makes it so intoxicating on so many levels.

The morning after the casual welcome soirée on the 73rd floor of the Intercontinental, we walked into a room with 204 bottles of the recently released vintages of Barolo (2018) and Barbaresco (2019), and four hours to make our way through, in whatever order we wanted (they had a crew of somms to bring us whichever wine on the list we pleased)as many or as few of the bottles as we wished, and ultimately rate the vintages. I made it through about 50 wines.

I’ve realized that the more wine I sample, even when spitting, the more pithy, asshole-ish, and absurd my notes become. Not that I’m necessarily liking wines tasted later less–I just am a little less buttoned up in how I describe them.

Interestingly…and I’m just saying…some of my favorites, like top three faves, were favored producers from prior tastings and (hello I’m brain damaged, I don’t remember every favorite Nebbiolo without going through old notes and yes I keep notes on nearly everything) surprise surprise were loved again. And they were ones that turned up on the other’s top picks.

I could go on about the rest of the press tour and maybe I should. There was a party at Universal Studios. There was a master class. There was Fontina cheese (and there always should be cheese). There was a big walk around tasting for the trade. And then there was the walk around for the public that me and my new wine besties played hooky from because we got invited to a Cote de Rosés party with models in Hollywood where we greedily sucked down rosé like the water it was, after three days of Nebbiolo.

I digress.

I’ll be real. Barolo and Barbaresco are nearly always great, particularly when they’ve had some time to grow into their tannic noses. But it’s those top…let’s just say top ten, just to be controversial (probably more), that are the wines that make you go hmmm…a happy hmmm. If I’m being real (which I think I just said I was) there is no Kill in Barolo/Barbaresco FMK. It’s more like Fuck Marry Kiss.

I’ll start with a producer I was excited about at the morning tasting, Ettore Germano, and it wasn’t until I talked to the winemaker himself at the walk-around the next day that I thought hmmmm, there’s something familiar in his face. I later realized I’d had dinner next to him at a sparkling wine event four years ago. That time, he was pouring a sparkling Nebbiolo rosé that knocked my socks off. So I was happy that his solid reds were solid. Beyond solid really. That man’s wines are art.

My next pick, according to my tasting cohorts, is supes controversh for building a VERY modern winery that looks like wine boxes stacked on each other in Barolo. I feel like Italians do art and fashion so well and so progressively, so it’s interesting they object to a lil’ fun architecture but whatever. L’Astemia Pentita is the name of the wine and her Barolo from the Cannubi vineyard comes in purple glass bottles which I’m guessing is also not so popular with the locals. And it is GOOD. In my top five. Energetic, bracing, and then there’s notes of pastilles. Great fun. And maybe it’s wrong but I do love a troublemaker so long as their product is delish.

And then we come to my old friend ( I wish) G.D. Vajra. I cherish their wine. The bottling I had was from Barolo Bricco delle Viole. My notes read “smells like white chocolate laced w/ flowers, much fresher palate, alert tannins but not annoying -fernet-laced. Complex, fascinating, heady. I do love them.

Go on and get yourself some Barolo. Grab yourself a Barbaresco. Have some nibbles on hand and have a ball. I did.

I’m a sucker for wine recipes

I got this wine. It had a BBQ sauce recipe to go with it. The wine is aged in bourbon barrels. I love Bourbon, my dolls. I don’t know that this gave too many bourbon-y notes but the only time you’ll hear me say “it has notes of coconut” in positive light is when speaking of things aged in American oak. As Bourbon is.

The grapes? 30% Merlot, 20% Zinfandel, 18% Cabernet Sauvignon, 18% Pinot Noir, 14% Petite Sirah.

Oh what’s the wine?

1000 Stories Gold Rush Red 2017

The wine and its accompanying recipe gave me a tempeh excuse. I mean a tempting excuse.

After all, the BBQ recipe was meant for ribs. But as a vegetarian I prefer to put meat ON my bones as opposed to sucking it from…okay this is getting graphic. But if you fatten my ribs, do it with red wine and BBQ tempeh.

And/or do it with bread and butter and/or fries but that’s a given.

What does a vegetarian put BBQ sauce on? Tempeh! And fortunately the recipe only uses a half cup of the wine so you and your dining companions can have the rest of the vino.

So I poured the wine, I made the sauce, I sautéed the tempeh, I set the table (lies I have no table) and tucked in.

The wine:

Looks deep but frivolous

On the nose I smelled purple raisins running in vanilla fields. It’s not paradise but it is a happy place.

On the tongue: medium acid med + tannin, high alcohol, full body, medium plus intensity…more prunes. Actually, dried fruits of every sort. But someone smashed them into a fresh plum mush

Dang that’s tasty.

I tossed BBQ sauce coated tempeh into my maw then took a swig and…for two seconds I thought eh it’s okay. I mean the wine IS less sweet than the sauce which is SUPPOSED to suck if the wine is less sweet but this held the floor.

I’m in.

For Zin.

For bbq tempeh.

For ribs. Mine.

oh ps I got this as a sample but I get a boatload of wines as samples. I only write about ones I find worthy.

Oh wait. The sauce:

GOLD RUSH RED BBQ SAUCE

• 1 Tbsp. extra virgin olive oil
• 1/2 cup minced onion (mine was more like diced whatevs)
• 2 cloves of garlic, grated (mine were more like minced but dubs whatevs)
• 1 tsp. cumin (used a smidge more)
• 1/4 tsp. cayenne pepper
• 2 Tbsp. golden brown sugar
• 1/2 cup 1000 Stories Gold Rush Red
• 1 Tbsp. apple cider vinegar
• 1/2 cup ketchupsee-through-is

Heat the oil over medium. Sauté your onion and garlic until onion is see-through-ish. Add cumin and cayenne and stir. Add sugar and wine, stir until sugar dissolves. Add vinegar and ketchup and bring to low boil. Adjust heat to bring sauce to a vigorous simmer (don’t know what that mean but it was somewhere in the simmer-plus range). Keep doin’ it til thickened. At that point I added a packet of tempeh–8 oz I think–that I had chopped up into various sizes (I like bite variation not bit consistency). Then eat. I like using chopsticks but go with fingers forks tongs I don’t care. Neither does your wine. Enjoy it my darling.

 

What a beaut

Before I get into it remember that the first three letters of beautiful are Bea.

And I now present for your adulation Azienda Paolo Bea’s 2010 Umbria Rosso “San Valentino”, a 70% Sangiovese/15% Sagrantino/15% Montepulciano that I want to marry.

Bea is also the first three letters of Beau. This wine will be my lover. And my Valentine(o). Good god the wordplay is endless. I’ll try to restrain my verbal tendencies.

Why do I love this wine? The Rosso is sturdy and dark-souled, but elegant. I guess I want to court a regal beast.

Also don’t forget Bea switched up is Bae.

It is man enough to, well, manhandle me. Sturdy tannins for days.

But graceful enough to make it last. It is all tomato balsamic and earth and cola and more dirt but thats just flotsam in a dark berry river running down dry as fuck riverbeds. And me and my beau are rafting through on a float made of 50 year old vines.

Beautiful Bae, I want this Bea to be my beau.

I either need to drink more wine, or get laid, which is which. As it is I am writing this sober at home on a Tuesday. I’m going to eat some ice cream and dream of getting my greedy hands on more Bea.

You do you.

Gonna drink this Zin right outa my wine fridge…

I edited like justttttt close enough although why oh why is there not nipple freedom for all?

But back to the title of this post: forgetting. Fuck. Am I being too personal? I’m trying to get rid of the wines that remind me of love lost. Which right now is Zin. FML. In the future I plan to stop educating my romances in wine. If they become fond of my faves suddenly all those former faves make me sad.

So I thought “I’ll drink up all those and focus on learning new ones”.

But the problem is I stock exemplary er…examples of Zin. So I can’t get over the wine. But maybe the wine is gonna be so good I’ll get over the lost romance? Maybe life is not so bad?

SO FUCK IT WITH THIS BOTTLE I RECLAIM MY LOVE OF THIS WINE AS MY OWN!!!!!!!! And my life.

Or something. In other words I’m my own goddamned lady.

Let’s talk wine. The glorious thing of this example is that it encompasses all your senses, including emotions. And it surrounds you with voluptuous joy. So:

2015 Dutcher Crossing Proprietor’s Reserve Dry Creek Valley Zinfandel

I discovered Dutcher Crossing from one of the wines my SF Wine Contest friend (he does their graphic design and such) brought back. It was good one year. Even better the next. So I bought some of my own.

Like I said it is a heady joy inducing wine. Like love you forget your woes in its presence. DO I NEED TO SAY MORE?!! Perhaps it is the tannic and aggressive aggressive 13% petite sirah that makes this wine give me wings.

In case you want tech notes I’ll get technical.

To your eyeholes: It is deep ruby with thick jambs. That’s legs sweet babies.

To the nostril-holes: It creeps out of the glass and assaults you with a kiss of dried cherries. There is more but that is the most important.

In your mouth hole/tastebuds/throat/nchest this is dry, medium plus acid, with medium tannins that have been to sex-ed, medium plus alcohol, and all the blueberries, blackberries, dried red cherries and super duper dried vanilla beans you could wish for which I am guessing are the love children of the 35% new american oak used.

Anyway this wine will take you for a ride. Dang it. My old love is no longer. Boys come and go.

Zinfandel is my life partner.

Regnié and a Red Hat

The name of this wine inspired me to put on a red cap of my own.

Apologies to Mets, Cubs and Giants fans in particular, but I’m a Cardinals girl. Okay now that that’s out of the way–

On this Beaujolais journey we have swilled on down:

Morgon

Chiroubles

Fleurie

Moulin-A-Vent

Chénas

Juliénas
And!
Saint-Amour

Okey dokey yea now we are on to Regnié. I talked about it once before.

But this one oh yes.

2012 Bonnet Rouge Regnié

Holy hell no sulfur! Normally I worry about that ending up stanky in a bad way but this is a natural phenomen. 

Thank god or I would think it unseemly… that this is…okay there is no polite way to say but cloudy.

Okay so also it is not penultimate in complexity. But it is more interesting than wines I’ve tasted three times the 10-ish dollar expense of this one.

If you hate: licorice, anise, or tarragon ye best run.

I LOVE this wine and probably would pay three times the amount it was (which would still be medium in price) because it is friggin’ RIFE with licorice-y taste deeeelite..but more than that anise? It makes me think of springerles–cookies my family makes around Christmas.

Which are the magic.

THE magic. This is an alcoholic springerle in a glass.

With just a bit more than a hint of the pastille I get in the Morgon. 

The Morgon has about as much pastille as I got in Chiroubles. This is a tiny region and hell now I want to open all three crus and do an anise-off between them. And I might chase that with some absinthe. Just so I can compare to the hardcore but jeez just all the anise/licorice/pastille etc ness. Y’all.

How does this compare? Oddly the further south I get the fresher the flavor I get. A phenomenon you see in say, Napa Velley but I don’t know it the type of wine (i.e. natural or not) has something to do with it. Still learning.

Anywho this has the delightful Gamay classic flavor of ALL sorts of cherries. Violets. And then that licorice and anise. The licorice and anise overwhelm my tastebuds but I FUCKING LOVE THEM. If you don’t this will undoubtedly be not good to you.

But fuck yah if I would not believe this bottle was 25-30. Not just under ten.

Bargain royalty.

And go Redbirds!! We need to win some more games so I can toast them with this red hat wine. 

Chiroubles: some would call it gender fluid. i call it fluid.

ONWARDDDD!!!!!

We have tackled Saint-Amour, Juliénas, Chénas, Moulin-a-Vent, and Fleurie! So let us keep on. To Chiroubles!!

Specifically:

2015 Laurent Gauthier Chiroubles Chatenay “Vielles Vignes”

I got this sucker for about 14 bucks from guess………duh Garagiste.

Oh golly apparently these “old vines” were planted on a steep pink granitic arena. HELLZ YEAH THIS WINE IS A BEEFY WINE AND YET FROM PINK SOIL!

Pink pussy power y’all. Pink granite grit. Feel it. Vinified in whole clusters in concrete vats.

This shit is hardcore essence of pink granitic Gamay and I am into it. It is a delightfully balanced wine, essence-wise. The acid is balanced with ripe blueberry and cherry fruitiness (which so may confuse with sweetness). The light tannins are balanced with…well they are still light but have strong handshake. Wicked oaky tannins would detract from what I ADORE that is hard to find in say…well I don’t know but. Soil is a lady y’all.

What I am saying is this wine has light flowers and I love it. Violets. This wine is violets and I want to french kiss it. As for the finish this wine doesn’t last long or change which is fine. I mean there are the vinos whose finish is so complex and crazy you can’t believe it and want to dwell on it forever but day to day I am a working lady. Sometime I want a quickie.

This wine is tough on the outside but then…those violets. Tasty.

In terms of comparison this wine, as compared to the other crus of Beaujolais is not as tough as most but fuller than Fleurie. Which is full but lacks manliness.

Chiroubles is gender fluid wine. It is true. I hear you giggling at that. Stop making fun of me. It is funny because it is true.

So actually, go ahead and laugh. I own my silliness. I’m macho like that.

Gimme some fleurs

Real quick: this week we had actress Melanie Lynskey (Heavenly Creatures, anyone?) on the podcast. And get into how to talk about cat pee notes in New Zealand wine so…listen to it here!

And now.

Fleuries! Oh yes my dahhhhhlings having gotten through Saint-Amour, Juliénas, Chénas, AND those devilish windmills aka Moulin-A-Vent we are  moving on to our darling flowers: Fleurie.

2014 Chateau de Grand Pre Fleurie

The gorgeous thing about French wines is they SOUND like they taste.

Moulins tilt. Saint-Amour is complex as true love. Brouilly brews up trouble and Chénas? Well it chains you to Beaujolais😁. 

Fleurie stays true to its name in that it tends to be more aromatic of flowers like violets. And it can be light and delicate like a lovely rose blossom. Makes you wonder what influences what more–the name or the wine?

I am doing this series probably more for my own education than anyone else’s. 

Ugh okay for all the following add “plus flowers and a whiff bubble gum” to the description and you’ll get the more typical Fleurie I like. Not as flowery and jammy as Beaujolais noveau but Fleurie does have some of those delightful things from time to time. Because carbonic maceration.

This Fleurie appeals to hipsters who like raw and natural. Let’s get WSET-y:

Look: medium and muddy grape-purple colored and the tears are slow but medium.

Nose: Oh funk a hit of oils! But otherwise raw green pepper and cherries and mulberries. Hint of allspice.

On yer tongue: Dry as f and acid as almost f and alcohol also medium (oh let me check label says 13% abv yup medium) tannins medium minus, body medium minus (for red), intensity of flavor is perhaps medium maybe even medium plus.

I’d like some more Fleuries and I’d take some flowers too. But if forced to decide between I’d likely take the wine first. Just sayin’.

Cheers darlings. Pick a flower for me.