Monthly Archives: June 2015

After our ceremony, my new mother-in-law presented us with Bert and Ernie dolls.

It’s not every day that the Supreme Court hands down a ruling so fully and dramatically in support of human rights. This ruling striking down laws banning same-sex marriage is truly historic. It will change the lives of millions of people, who, in at least one respect, lived as second-class citizens of the United States.

That calls for a first-class celebration. I recommend heading straight to your city’s largest gay bar after work, where the mood will doubtless be more than usually festive. And what the heck, order a Cosmopolitan. Yes, it’s terribly dated, but it’s about as gay as cocktails get, and it remains as delicious as ever when properly made: decent vodka, triple sec or Grand Marnier, cranberry juice and fresh lime — not Rose’s or sour mix.

If you prefer to have a party rather than going to a bar — and let’s face it, that’s exactly what most of us married folk prefer — it’s time to pull out all the stops.

PARTY #1: FRUGAL BUT FABULOUS

–Aperitif: Campari and club soda, served in a highball and garnished with lime. It’s refreshing, it’s pink, and you only need to add a little Campari to each glass, making it inexpensive to mix a lot of these. If you aren’t expecting a mob, opt for a slightly more complicated Gaspare: 4 parts club soda, 1/2 part fresh-squeezed lime juice (do not use bottled), 1/4 part simple syrup (1 part sugar dissolved in 1 part water), 1 part Campari.

–First Course: Evolúció Furmint. Chicago’s biggest wine shop, Binny’s, sells this exotic Hungarian wine for just $9 a bottle, and you get a lot of flavor bang for your buck. If you can’t find it, consider instead a Torrontés from Argentina, ideally from around Salta. Typically bright with tropical fruit and flowers but still very dry, a good Torrontés can be had for $10 or $12 per bottle.

–Second Course: A Portuguese red blend. Red wines from Portugal tend to be excellent values because most of us can’t even pronounce the indigenous grape varieties, let alone tell you what they taste like. Furthermore, Portugal tends to be overshadowed by its much more famous neighbor, the land of Rioja and Cava. It shouldn’t be too difficult to find a ripely fruity and dry Portuguese red for around $10 or $12. Be sure to serve your red wine at cellar temperature — put it in the fridge for a little while if necessary.

–Dessert: Death’s Door Wondermint. This spirit is essentially a peppermint schnapps, but it tastes much more elegant and complex than you might expect because of ingredients such as rose water and bitter almond. It costs around $23 a bottle, but because it’s strong, a little goes a long way. Chill well, and serve in a cordial glass with a chocolate dessert or vanilla ice cream.

PARTY #2: MID-RANGE BUT NOT MEDIOCRE

–Aperitif: Kir Royale. This simple French drink never fails to start a party off right. Traditionally a Kir Royale has a base of Crémant de Bourgogne, but any good dry sparkling wine will do. A decent Prosecco or a quality Cava would work quite well. Add sparkling wine to a flute and top up with a dash of Crème de Cassis, a blackcurrant liqueur.

–First Course: A single-vineyard Riesling from the Pfalz or the Mosel Valley (Mosels tend to be easier to find). You can expect rich fruit matched by lively acids and steely nerve, and all for around $25 to $30. Another delightful alternative would be Savennières from the Loire. Sancerre gets all the attention, which means Savennières tends to be a value for the money. You should be able to find one for about $25.

–Second Course: Something innovative would seem to be in order here. Perhaps a powerful Syrah from Chile. No longer dedicated just to the cheap stuff, Chile has ideal terroir for fine wine, the full potential of which vintners are now truly beginning to exploit. Single-vineyard wines are becoming more and more common here, as well as in neighboring Argentina. A high-quality Austrian St. Laurent would be a delicious alternative, if you can find one.

–Dessert: Ron Zacapa Centenario Sistema Solera 23. This beautiful rum from Guatemala contains spirits ranging in age from six to 23 years. It tastes wonderfully smooth and rich, and it’s a perfect way to end a meal. Zacapa recommends serving it with a single large lump of ice, which I prefer in the summer. But it works equally well neat, should your guests prefer it that way. You should be able to find it for around $50 to $60 a bottle.

PARTY #3: DAMN THE TORPEDOES

–Aperitif: Time for Champagne with a capital “C”. Go for a Grower Champagne, produced by the people who grew the grapes (most Champagnes blend grapes from across the region). You can identify a Grower by the letters “RM,” usually written in the tiniest font possible on the label, as opposed to “NM”, the designation on most other Champagnes.

Alicante Bouschet from the now-defunct Rainbow Ridge winery

–First Course: The obvious choice would be white Burgundy, and I certainly won’t argue if you want to pour me a glass. For something a little more unusual, opt instead for a white Pessac-Léognan from Bordeaux, redolent of lush tropical fruit. Or a Grosses Gewächs (Great Growth) Riesling would also surely impress the fussiest of guests.

–Second Course: A Bordeaux winemaker once told me that he doesn’t spend more than €100 (about $115) on a bottle of wine, because anything more is just for show. Keeping that advice in mind, I’d recommend a Brunello di Montalcino (Poggione makes some exquisite ones), or Las Terrazas de los Andes “Cheval des Andes,” a wine that gave me chills when I recently tried it in Mendoza.

–Dessert: My favorite dessert wines in the world are Tokaji Aszú from Hungary and Sauternes from France. Both use grapes affected by Noble Rot, making them rich, vibrant and expensive. Nevertheless, the flavor-to-price ratio in each case is quite high. If you prefer a spirit, choose one of these Cognacs that brought me to tears.

As for me, tonight might be the night to open my treasured signed bottle of 2001 Rainbow Ridge Alicante Bouschet, the gayest wine in my rack. I have a feeling that after a long period of waiting, tonight it will be at its very best.

On a recent trip to New Mexico, I made a point of returning to my favorite winery in the state, Casa Rondeña. I ordered a glass of Meritage in the tasting room, and a gentleman next to me asked how I liked it. “Very much,” I replied. “It’s well-balanced, and a fine example of what New Mexico is capable of in terms of wine.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he responded, “Since I made it!” I went on to say how pleasantly surprised I was by New Mexico wines, the Cabernet Francs in particular, but I didn’t disclose that I was a wine blogger who had written about Casa Rondeña previously. I was off the clock. “Have you visited any other wineries?” he asked. “Which ones do you like?”

I listed off a few, including St. Clair, where I remembered liking the D.H. Lescombes line of wines. He didn’t agree with that selection. St. Clair, he noted, adds corn syrup or other sugars to many of its wines. I can see why — in New Mexico, the local palate skews heavily towards sweeter wines, so much so that most wineries will taste reds before whites, de-emphasizing the reds’ dryness.

While certainly not illegal, that practice of adding sugars isn’t necessarily the hallmark of great wines. “They really should have to disclose that on their label,” I protested. But they don’t. In fact, beyond noting that they contain sulfites, a completely unnecessary declaration, wines need not list any of their ingredients. Nor, for that matter, do spirits. Just what is in Blue Curaçao, anyway?

How is it that in 2015, in an era of ever-greater concern about the quality of the things we’re putting into our bodies, that wines and spirits can still get away without listing anything other than their alcohol content? Some studies promote a glass or two of red wine a day as a healthy  addition to one’s diet, but surely some red wines are more beneficial than others.

Red wines with added sugar, for example, don’t strike me as the healthiest choice. At the St. Clair Bistro, our waitress offered us free samples of Chenin Blanc. And indeed, it tasted rather flabby and too sweet. I ordered a $13 glass of D.H. Lescombes Cabernet Franc instead, thinking that this more expensive line of wines would surely adhere to higher standards of winemaking.

It tasted quite ripe and free from any vegetal, green-pepper notes which can sometimes plague Cabernet Franc. But vanilla notes overwhelmed the palate, and indeed, it tasted jammier than I expected. Was I imagining that it was overly sweet because of what the owner of Casa Rondeña told me? I took another sip. No — the too-strong vanilla notes were quite clear. I won’t presume to say whether the wine had added sugar or not, however, because I have no way of knowing for sure.

Of course I wouldn’t have to guess, if wines and spirits actually declared their ingredients! All non-alcoholic beverages in the supermarket have lists of ingredients. Even unflavored water lists “Water” as the sole substance in the bottle.

It’s time spirits and wines followed suit. As a consumer, I want to know if my wine contains “Grape juice” or “Grape juice, high-fructose corn syrup and red dye #32.” Price, as indicated by my rather expensive glass of Cabernet Franc, is not necessarily a guide.

Time to write my Congressman!

The author and Alexandra Prinzessin zur Lippe in the Schloss Proschwitz vineyards overlooking Meissen

Schloss Proschwitz ranks among the unlikeliest — and therefore most delightful — wineries I’ve ever had the pleasure to visit. First, consider its location in Sachsen in former East Germany, at about the same latitude as London. The fact that the Elbe River and its south-facing bluffs create a microclimate well-suited to grape growing is a bit of a miracle. (You can read more about Sachsen in general here.)

Alexandra Prinzessin zur Lippe among Schloss Proschwitz’s custom-designed fermentation tanks

Then there is the winery’s tumultuous history, which I learned about when I met Alexandra Prinzessin zur Lippe for a tour and tasting. A former television news reporter, the unfailingly gracious Prinzessin (that’s what everyone called her at the winery) ordered flutes of sparkling rosé for us as we sat on patio. As we sipped this unusual fruity and rather smoky sparkler made from Frühburgunder (Pinot Madeleine), she began relating the winery’s dramatic post-war story.

The parents of the current owner, the Prinz zur Lippe, did not fare well when the Soviet Red Army invaded eastern Germany. Communists did not look kindly on royalty. They imprisoned his parents and expropriated all their property. Fortunately they were not murdered — instead, after several months spent apart in prison, the Soviets “chucked them into West Germany” with only the clothes on their backs, the Prinzessin exclaimed, her understandable indignation not quite concealed.

Schloss Proschwitz (Proschwitz Palace), ancestral home of the zur Lippe family, now used for weddings and other events

In need of housing and income, Christian Prinz zur Lippe took a job as a gardener, working for his mother-in-law. His son, Georg Prinz zur Lippe was not, as you might expect of someone with that title, raised in unabashed luxury. He built a successful career for himself as an agricultural engineer, and then the Berlin Wall fell.

His father, still alive at this time, suggested that Georg attempt to recover the family’s property in East Germany. But because the property had been expropriated by the Soviets, not East Germany, the government refused to give anything back. So Georg did things the hard way, negotiating with landowners and convincing banks to loan him money. Eventually, he managed to buy back a large portion of the family’s original vineyards.

The story did not end there, however. The Prinz zur Lippe was not welcomed with open arms back to his ancestral home. In the minds of the East Germans, “My husband was the incarnation of evil,” the Prinzessin explained. “From the West. A prince. He had property that had been expropriated. And he was an entrepreneur!” The East Germans had been brainwashed into thinking of capitalists as evil, and that mindset didn’t immediately change with the fall of the Wall. Georg lived for a year in a house on a hill overlooking his new vineyards, during which time all of his neighbors refused to speak with him. It isn’t always easy being the prince.

Entrance to the Schloss Proschwitz winery in Zadel

He also didn’t win any friends when he replanted his vineyards with historically correct but lower-yielding grape varieties, nor when he started employing the latest viticultural methods. Many thought he was insane to drastically reduce pesticide application and restrict yields by cutting off half the grapes and using them to make balsamic vinegar.

But finally Georg and Alexandra started to win the local people over. The sympathetic mayor of the bluff-top town of Zadel offered to sell them a courtyard of historic but dilapidated buildings for their winery. After extensive renovations, Schloss Proschwitz opened a winery, shop and restaurant on the property. It became the first in Sachsen to be admitted to the prestigious VDP, Germany’s top winery association.

In the tasting room, the Prinzessin poured several delightful wines, leaving no doubt as to the potential of Sachsen terroir. A rare Goldriesling (a seldom-cultivated Muscat crossing) had an enticingly floral and spicy aroma, food-friendly green-apple tartness and a mineral finish. The Proschwitz Elbing, an ancient and now-unpopular variety cultivated since Roman times, had a surprisingly colorless hue, a powdered candy aroma and fun, juicy acids. Either would be perfect for a pool party.

The Schloss Proschwitz tasting room and shop

We also tried some more serious wines, such as the 2014 Weissburgunder Kabinett from the Schloss Proschwitz Vineyard. This Pinot Blanc (Weissburgunder translates literally as “White Burgundy”) smelled fresh and spicy. It tasted fruity and cheerful but very focused, with clear minerality. The 2012 Weissburgunder from the Heiligenkreuz Vineyard, in contrast, had more white fruit and cream in the aroma. It tasted very ripe, even with a note of caramel, and it finished on quite a spicy note. I never thought to age Pinot Blanc, but the 2012 clearly illustrated the benefits of a couple of years in the bottle.

But when we reached the 2013 Weissburgunder Grosses Gewächs, the Prinzessin became concerned. As I smelled this Pinot Blanc, I let out a laugh and a whoop and said “Yeah!” just a little too loudly. Her eyes widened, and she asked the woman behind the desk to bring bread.

Terrace of the winery’s restaurant

“We’ll be having lunch soon…” she said, clearly convinced I was drunk. But I had spit everything I’d tasted up to that point. It smelled so good, this wine, that I couldn’t help but laugh and shout. “Grosses Gewächs” translates as “Great Growth,” a designation something like Grand Cru in Burgundy. And this wine was great.

I would have guessed it was a white Burgundy, but not a Pinot Blanc. The aroma had such richness, with ripe fruit and fresh butter and wood. And the flavor! Drinking it was like driving in a car with an expert at manual transmission — it shifted with incredible suppleness from ripe, ripe fruit to classy acids to focused spice. It was a gorgeous, elegant wine.

I had to have it. Terrified of what I might have to spend for a wine of this quality, I looked at the price list on the bar. It cost 25€, or about $28 a bottle. I must admit I’m not used to spending $28 on a bottle of wine, but it seemed like a crazy bargain in this case. Who knew Pinot Blanc could reach such heights?

We had yet more delicious wines over lunch, notably a surprisingly ripe 2011 Spätburgunder (Pinot Noir) redolent of red currants and earth. And I thought, my God! How wonderful how completely the communists had failed. They took everything from the zur Lippe family except one set of clothes per person. And yet here they were, once again making truly world-class wines from their ancestral vineyards, providing jobs to about 100 people. The power of history — and the power of the entrepreneur — couldn’t have been clearer.