Odd Bacchus

Most wines I write about on Odd Bacchus receive pretty good grades. I prefer to write posts about wines which excite me, because I like to think I’m helping bring unheralded wine regions and grape varieties to light. Even more important, I hope I’m helping my readers find some great values, since delicious unusual wines and spirits tend to cost less than delicious well- known wines and spirits.

But a regular reader of this blog could be forgiven for thinking that I am happy with almost any alcohol that passes my lips, an opinion shared by most of my family, friends, coworkers, acquaintances and neighbors. Indeed, I do try to be charitable with wines — a very non-snobby French sommelier shamed me into that — but a recent selection really rubbed me the wrong way.

My husband returned from Whole Foods last week with a bottle of 2011 Jam Jar Sweet Shiraz from South Africa, thinking it would work well with the red-wine pickled pears he planned on canning. Mixed with vinegar, cinnamon and other spices, it made a perfectly lovely pickling liquid for the pears, and I gaze at the Mason jars of pears with no small measure of anticipation. Drunk on its own, however, this wine was an offense to the palate.

A simulacrum of raspberry jam pervaded the nose, and something artificial marred the flavor as well. It started a bit flabby before coalescing into acidic, chemically-tinged fruit. An unpleasant tomato note took over before the wine climaxed into a diabetic, teeth-coating finish. I don’t know what Jam Jar did to make this Shiraz “sweet,” but I have a feeling it didn’t happen in the vineyard.

What a waste of money. My husband spent $12 for this bottle of raspberry sugar water. Don’t be suckered in by Jam Jar’s cutesy font — behind the innocuous label lurks an unpleasant, saccharine wine, offering yet more evidence supporting my theory that the cuter the label, the crappier the wine.

SUMMARY

2011 Jam Jar Sweet Shiraz: Certainly sweet, but marred by chemically fruit and abrasive acids. Barely drinkable.

Grade: D

Find It: If you want to experience this charmer yourself, you can find it at Whole Foods. At the store on Halsted in Chicago, it’s on sale for $10 as of this posting. Still a poor value.

Last year, I wrote that wine alone might not be enough to get you through Thanksgiving. Nevertheless, as a host, you’ll likely be expected by at least some of your guests to serve wine, or as a guest, your hosts may very well expect you to bring a bottle of wine. In either case, since family is almost surely involved, you probably aren’t in a mood to spend a lot of money. But of course, you also don’t want your family whispering behind your back — for years to come — about that crappy wine you served, with which they could barely wash down that desiccated turkey and gelatinous stuffing.

I have just the thing to thread the needle. Ignore whatever other articles you’ve read, recommending $20 Rhône-style blends or $30 Pinot Noirs. Save those for yourself and your partner — they’ll spruce Thanksgiving leftovers right up. For the big day itself, get thee to Binny’s and pick up some NV (non-vintage) Finca Flichman Brut Extra. It’s $10 a bottle (or even less if you buy a case), and it’s perfectly delightful.

This apricot-colored sparkling wine comes from Mendoza in Argentina, a region much more famous for its Malbec. In fact, it might be tempting to serve Malbec at Thanksgiving, but don’t do it. Everyone thinks it’s inexpensive, so even if you buy a really nice Malbec, you’ll end up looking cheap. On the other hand, no one knows what an Argentinean sparkling wine costs, and when they taste this unusual blend of 80% Chardonnay and 20% Malbec, they’ll never guess it runs just a few dollars more than Yellow Tail.

The grapes for this wine are, impressively at this price point, harvested by hand, theoretically ensuring that only the ripest fruit ends up in the presses. Unfortunately, the second fermentation does not happen in the bottle, in what is known as the Methode Champenoise. Finca Flichman uses the less labor-intensive Charmat process, which usually results in larger, less-refined bubbles.

I tend to be suspicious of wines made in the Charmat method, but in this case, there was no need to fear. The plentiful bubbles couldn’t be described as “pin-prick,” exactly, but they were smaller and more elegant than I expected. The aromas of strawberry and watermelon also surprised me. They were a feint, however — the wine tasted dry but round, with lively, orangey acids and pleasant note of yeast. The berries reappeared only at the end, as a whisper on the finish. Yum. I haven’t tried it with turkey or stuffing, but I have a feeling it would pair perfectly.

And perhaps most important of all, the Finca Flichman’s pinkish-orange color will match beautifully with an autumnally themed Thanksgiving table. Your family will be pleased, and your wallet will remain more or less intact. Those are things I can definitely be thankful for.

SUMMARY

NV Finca Flichman Extra Brut: Fruity on the nose but dry, round and a bit yeasty on the palate. A stellar value, and a fine match for a range of foods. In short, an ideal Thanksgiving choice.

Grade: A-

Find It: I purchased this wine at Binny’s for $10.

Much ado has been made about matching wine with food, but can be just as exciting to experiment with pairing cocktails. Unfortunately, while many wine bars and restaurants have sommeliers who create course-by-course wine pairings, it’s rare to find a suggested menu of spirits or cocktails to go with that prix fixe.

I’m really excited to see someone attempting to rectify that situation. Clint Rogers, the spirits director at Henri, is organizing a “Spirited Dinner Series” here in Chicago. He’s enlisted some top local mixologists to create a flight of cocktails based on a single spirit, such as whiskey or gin, to go with a particular dinner menu.

Chicago cocktail connoisseurs, mark these dates on your calendars:

December 5: Cognac cocktails by Michael Simon and his team, served with dinner at Carriage House.

January 23: Gin cocktails by Danny Shapiro and his time, served with dinner at Scofflaw.

For reservations, call (312) 578-0763. Each Spirited Dinner costs $100 per person (excluding tax and gratuity) and begins at 6:00 p.m.

Alas, we missed October’s whiskey dinner, but at least we can look at the menu and imagine what fun it must have been:

Cocktail 1: Troubadour (Eagle Rare, Punt e Mes, Aperol, Cynar, celery bitters); paired with house-made pancetta with pickle, orange

Cocktail 2: Whitman (Buffalo Trace, Cardamaro, BLiS Maple, Allspice Dram, egg); paired with skin salad with horseradish, black pepper

Cocktail 3: Torrid Affair (Weller Antique 107, Amaro Nonino, lime, cinnamon, Champagne), paired with monkfish with olive, apple, cress

Cocktail 4: Ramos Creole Cocktail (Very Old Barton 100 proof, Dry Curaçao, demerara, Peychaud’s bitters, Angostura bitters, absinthe), paired with venison with Roquefort, smoked fig

Cocktail 5: Sleeping Jolly Pecker (ingredients unknown); paired with buckwheat cannelle with glazed seckel pears, Peychaud’s caramel, Greek yogurt sorbet

Woo! Yum.

These days, almost everyone has tasted wines from Argentina at some point — its Malbec can be found almost anywhere — but that’s hardly the case for its neighbor, Uruguay. Although this little country on the north side of the Rio de la Plata is South America’s fourth-largest wine producer, you can’t just walk into a wine store and head to the Uruguayan section. Most of its vineyards, which average just 12.5 acres in size, are family owned, and similarly small-scale wineries have inconsequential marketing budgets. If you can actually find the wines, you’re paying more for what’s actually in the bottle and less for splashy ad campaigns.

Nevertheless, I’ve had some bad experiences with Uruguayan wines. I’ve only had two or three, but I can’t remember being excited about any of them. Now, after tasting a 2011 Giminez Mendez Las Brujas Tannat/Syrah/Viognier, I think I figured out what the problem. It’s the very signature grape of Uruguay: Tannat.

This exceedingly dark variety originated in southwest France, where it serves as the most important component of Madiran. As is common in France, the wines of Madiran are not varietals, they’re blends. But the Uruguayan wines I can recall trying were 100% Tannat, which meant that its tough and wooly tannins went unsoftened by any other grapes. In the unlikely event you happen upon a 100% Tannat, I recommend passing it by.

On the other hand, if you come across a Uruguayan blend, snap it up and give it a try. The southern part of the country, where Giminez Mendez and most other Uruguayan wineries make their homes, is well-suited to winemaking, with humid, sunny days mitigated by cool ocean currents from Antarctica.

Unfortunately, the humidity means party time for fungus and rot, making “organic viticulture virtually impossible,” according to the Atlas. Nevertheless, many wineries such as Giminez Mendez work to respect the environment, using a minimum of chemicals in the vineyards. Mendez also harvests all its fruit by hand, which means, theoretically, that only the ripest and best grapes make it into the wine.

The Tannat/Syrah/Viognier blend I sampled certainly smelled enticingly ripe, with a jammy nose of dark currants. Made from fruit from vineyards in Las Brujas, which translates as “The Witches,” this wine was only 60% Tannat, but the tannins came through loud and proud. The wine started innocently enough, with rich, dark, lush fruit. But it gets a little rough in the middle, and before you know it, hefty tannins give you a slap, drying the mouth right out. It’s a bit of a wild ride! This is no Cary Grant of a wine; it’s more of an Axl Rose.

The label says it’s “ideal to drink in any occasion,” but the wine didn’t have great table manners either, becoming a little tart and overly spicy when paired with some pizza.

It’s not a wine to bring home to the parents, but when you’re in the mood to rebel a little and drink something rowdy, Giminez Mendez’s Las Brujas blend from Uruguay is your bad boy (or girl).

SUMMARY

2011 Giminez Mendez Las Brujas Tannat/Syrah/Viognier: Big up-front fruit, rough and tumble in the middle, and bracingly tannic on the finish. Acids afforded some measure of balance, but I’m not sure what food this wine would play well with. Maybe a hearty duck dish? Chill for 15 minutes in the refrigerator before serving, and give it some time to breathe.

Grade: B

Find It: I purchased this wine at In Fine Spirits for $12.50, a fine value indeed.