Monthly Archives: October 2012

I recently vacationed for a week in Door County, Wisconsin, which is that lovely peninsula that sticks into Lake Michigan. Autumn there is particularly fine, when the trees put on a magnificent display and orchards allow you to pick your own apples. We did just that at Lautenbach’s Orchard outside Fish Creek, and it was there I discovered the joys of tart cherry juice.

You might be able to find cherry juice at your local grocery, but tart cherry juice, made from Montmorency cherries, seems to be more of a specialty product. This year it might be especially difficult to find, because the cherry crop in Wisconsin and Michigan was damaged by the frost which followed March’s string of 80-degree temperatures. If you do see tart cherry juice (100% juice is best), for heaven’s sake, buy it. Lautenbach’s Orchard sells it in its refrigerated case, and you can also purchase it online.

UPDATE: I just discovered Whole Foods carries tart cherry juice as well.

It’s worth the trouble to find. The juice from Lautenbach’s Orchard tasted like rich cherry pie in a glass, which makes some sense, since the juice comes from the same cherries used for pies. But though the juice is sweet, it is by no means cloying or syrupy. Since Lautenbach’s adds no sugar to the juice, it retains its tart punch. For a simple fruit juice, it’s remarkably complex, and I love drinking it on its own.

But of course, I couldn’t just leave it at that. I had a feeling that a juice this delicious couldn’t help but make a delightful cocktail, and indeed it does. I tried it with whiskey, brandy, tequila, vodka… All these combinations, using about two parts juice and one part spirit, worked beautifully. I shared the juice with my friend Scott, a great connoisseur of cocktails, and after one sip, he exclaimed, “Oh… Yes. We are going to make a Cherry Pie Martini with this.” And who was I to say no?

I knew that vodka and tart cherry juice worked well, but it felt a little pointy. Some fresh-squeezed lemon juice rounded out the texture, but it still seemed a little bright. To enhance some of the low notes, we added a couple dashes of Angostura Bitters. Perfect. The result looked enticingly cherry-red, but it was no sugar bomb. This was a strong, serious cocktail, with a most pleasurable balance of flavors:

CHERRY PIE MARTINI

• 2 parts vodka (I use Sobieski, the best vodka value I’ve found)
• 1 part 100% tart cherry juice
• 1/4 part fresh-squeezed lemon juice
• 2 or 3 dashes of Angostura Bitters

Add all of the above to a cocktail shaker filled with ice and shake vigorously. Strain into chilled martini glasses. If you must, garnish with a fresh cherry.

And that’s it! Easy as pie, and a great cocktail to serve around Thanksgiving.

(And if you have any non-drinkers at the party, they’ll be delighted by this alternative: 4 parts club soda, 1 part 100% tart cherry juice, a healthy squeeze of lemon, and, if you have it on hand, a healthy squeeze of lime as well. Delicious!)

I find myself avoiding most Australian wines. Many are inexpensive, to be sure, but most cheap Australian wine turns out to be a poor value for the money. As I’ve said before, just because a bottle of wine costs $7 or $8 doesn’t mean you’ll get $7 or $8 worth of flavor out of it. Inexpensive Shiraz, Australia’s most famous export, can frequently be quite crude and overblown, and a poor value at almost any price. I have no doubt that it’s possible to find bargains, but I don’t know enough about the Australian wine scene to ferret them out.

If you find yourself inexplicably in the mood for something Australian, go for one of the lesser-known grape varieties. You’ll likely get more bang for your buck with something like a Semillon or a Sangiovese. It’s just not safe to pick up a random bottle of Australian Shiraz or Chardonnay these days.

A bottle of 2008 Oxford Landing Viognier from South Australia had been languishing on my wine rack for years, I have no idea how it got there, and I must admit I’d been avoiding it. Even Viognier seems a little too fashionable to be trusted in Australian hands, and the fact that Oxford Landing is one of Australia’s most famous wineries did not inspire confidence (although the Oxford Landing website reassuringly describes its Viognier as “suitable for vegans and vegetarians”).

But I tend to prefer younger Viogniers, which have the best chance of retaining their trademark perfume intact. Already, this wine had likely passed its prime.

I decided to take my own advice and just open the stuff, and some Thai delivery provided the perfect opportunity: Low stakes, and numerous alternative bottles within easy reach, should the Viognier have to go down the drain. Fortunately, the wine still had a heady honeysuckle aroma, and my goodness, it was tasty and rich. A buttery start gave way to pears, flowers, some pointy acids and even a touch of flintiness at the end. The acids ensured balance, and its exotic flavors paired just fine with the Thai food.

I ended up quite enjoying this inexpensive Australian wine! I have no idea what I paid (perhaps it was a gift), but other Oxford Landing wines cost about $8 at Binny’s. Quite a fine value indeed. I may have to reconsider my ban on wines from Down Under. I would love to hear if you’ve made any exciting Australian discoveries lately — feel free to write me an e-mail or post in the comments. In the meantime, I’ll see if I can scare up some more unusual and inexpensive varietals from Australia. Who knows? Maybe I’ve been missing out!

SUMMARY

2008 Oxford Landing Viognier: Intact perfumy, honeysuckle aroma. Rich, fruity and flowery, with tart balancing acids and a touch of flint. A very good value. Pairs well with Asian dishes, and probably most pork recipes. Chill well in the refrigerator before serving.

Grade: B

Find It: I have no idea where I got it, but Oxford Landing is a major exporter, and it’s likely a well-stocked wine shop will carry its wines, which run about $8 to $10.

I like to stretch out rosé season as long as possible, and now that the nights are flirting with freezing, I’m stretching it indeed. But my goodness, I know of few other styles of wine so broadly consistent as the long-maligned pink. How many dry rosés have I tried, made with who knows which varieties from heaven knows what godforsaken backwater — and they’re almost all at least good.

Why is that? The theory I’ve adopted is that since rosés can be tough to market, winemakers who choose to make them make them from the heart. These aren’t dumbed down to appeal to everyone, so the wines have a point of view, and have a good chance of reflecting the vineyard’s terroir. The winemaker is, hopefully, expressing him/herself with the rosé, and perhaps having a little fun. And fun is the point of a rosé — it should be lively and joyous, if not necessarily deep or complex or profound.

But even I have limits, and I find it difficult to work up enthusiasm for rosé in the winter. That’s why it’s important to pick up a bottle now and open it immediately, while the leaves still have a touch of green. You could do much worse than a 2011 Kir-Yianni “Akakies,” which will likely be my last pink of the season. Yep, it’s made from a who-knows-which variety in a godforsaken backwater, and it’s great.

In fact, it’s made from Xinomavro, one of the three grape varieties starting with “X” listed in The Oxford Companion to Wine. The name means “acid black,” according to the Companion, and it’s “one of the few Greek vine varieties which may not reach full ripeness in some years.” Perhaps that’s less the variety’s fault and more due to the fact that it’s popular in the cool, high-altitude vineyards of northern Greece.

This particular Xinomavro is a 100% varietal from Amyndeon (as spelled on the label), a region in inland Macedonia just south Greece’s border with Macedonia the country (as distinct from the Greek province of the same name). Adding to the geographic confusion, since Greeks use the Greek alphabet, the Arabic spelling of place names can get creative. In my various wine tomes, I have found it spelled Amyndeo, Amyntaion and Amindaio.

In any case, the region on the northwest side of Mount Vermio “is so cool that it can produce aromatic whites, a denominated Xinomavro rosé, and good sparkling wine,” according to the Atlas. I was delighted to see Sotheby’s note that the “brilliant” Alpha Estate is realizing the full potential of the Amyndeo terroir with its fine Xinomavro-based red blends. I first wrote about the Alpha Estate “Axia” here, and I liked the wine so much that I served it at my wedding.

But let’s get back to the Kir-Yianni rosé, because with autumn fully upon us, there’s no time to waste. A deep pink color, it smelled of sweet cherries and watermelon. On the palate, it exhibited juicy fruit, a slight prickle on the tongue, some tightly wound acids, a chalky midsection and a tart finish. A fun ride, and delicious paired with some slightly spicy red beans and rice.

So even this rosé of Xinomavro from Amyndeo (or Amindaio, or Amyntaion) — a risk if there ever was one — proved to be quite fine. Which again goes to show that taking a risk on an unknown dry rosé isn’t really much of a risk at all.

SUMMARY

2011 Kir-Yianni “Akakies”: Fruity, but tight, focused, minerally and tart. An excellent choice with food that’s lightly spicy. Chill well in the refrigerator before serving, and serve it soon. Its summery flavors will soon feel out of place.

Grade: A-

Find It: I purchased this bottle at In Fine Spirits for $15.50, and I see that Binny’s also carries it.

I’m spending a glorious week away from computers and cell phones in idyllic Door County, Wisconsin. It couldn’t come soon enough!

I’ll be back posting about various oddball spirits and unusual wines shortly. And who knows? Maybe I’ll find something fun like this Death’s Door Gin I discovered last year!

In the meantime, drink something amazing, and tell me about it in the comments below or via e-mail: [email protected].

Cheers!