Rosé among the Roses (and peonies, bleeding hearts, impatients ...)

PINK! For whatever reason, the wine world screams pink when summer comes along, and suddenly the LCBO is awash in a tidal wave of blush. While I try not to limit rosés to the warm months (since there are so few of them in this Canadian climate) I gladly accepted an invitation to Jane's Place for a tasting of all things pink.

#janeswine: Australia

Tonight I joined a few of my fellow Algonquin sommelier grads for a tasting of Australian wines at Jane's house. I dubbed it #janeswine on Twitter, a wineau-inspired version of #janeswalk, which had been taking place all over North America over the weekend.

(Jane's Walk is a series of free guided walking tours designed to increase the average citizen's understanding of, and appreciation for, the architecture, art and cohesive living environment of their own neighbourhoods. Me and the girls opted to enrich our understanding of, and appreciation for, our favourite vinous libations instead. But I think next year I will don the runners for one of the local Jane's Walks and explore what is, I'm sure, an eye-opening side of Ottawa.)

Back to the tasting.

Cake, wine ... what more do you need?

The new addition sparkled in the late afternoon sun, its pristine white walls giving an airy brilliance to the room. A rough-hewn wood table was weighed down with bottles of wine, a fall-themed centrepeice and three different kinds of cake (lemon, choco-hazelnut and coconut-carrot cake, to be precise. And yes, I tried a slice of each. Holly’s mom said I could.)

I was invited to two birthday parties this weekend, and neither of them involved a trip to Cosmic or toddlers on a sugar high. No, these were grown-up birthdays. My favourite kind.

Wine Wednesday: Holiday Imbibery

Recovering from the holidays is always such a drag. Bleary-eyed, we woke up Tuesday morning to the obnoxious noise of the alarm clock, heralding the first day back at work. The kids desperately clung to the last vestiges of Christmas, mewing plaintively for one more story, one more ride on the rocking horse, one more look at the tree. The blast of sub-zero windchill didn't help matters, either. What happened to a mild winter?

So to cheer myself up, I'm dedicating the first Wine Wednesday of 2012 to a review of the last two weeks' most memorable quaffs.

Aussie character and passion: First Families of Wine

And here I thought the Wine and Food show and the California Fair were exhausting. I hadn't tried "speed dating for winos" yet; the Australia's First Families of Wine event (at the Chateau Laurier, no less) was definitely a first ... and a challenge, to say the least.

Here's the deal: there's a winemaker at each of the 11 tables in the room. You have eight minutes to hear their shpeel, sample two wines and rinse your glass before the bell rings and you're off to the next table. No big, long romance, no timid foreplay. Let's cut to the chase and drink ... er, taste.

My Da, he likes his Rascal

The Easter long weekend is the first glorious herald of the coming of summer. Weather permitting, it's all about barbeques, dusting off the patio furniture and pouring some spring-ish wine to go with the family feast.

Obsessed much?

This was me at the LCBO on Saturday: "What do you MEAN there isn't any Obsession??" Cue the gasp, as Mitchell would say ...

I tell ya, ya gotta go to Disneyworld

That's what the Doodle said to a friend of ours after getting back from the Best Trip Ever. "It was so wonderful. It's where dreams come true."

Make-or-break pairings

There are times with the planets align and a marriage between a sip of wine and a morsel of food opens the door to the mysteries of the universe. And then there are days when that door gets rudely slammed in one's face.

Ottawa Wine and Food Show - B's Picks

The best thing about the Show is the chance it gives me (and everyone else) to be adventurous. Stuck in a wine rut? This is the place for you. Here are a few of my favourites from this year's selection:

Budbreak in my backyard

Look! Vines!! I haven't a clue what varietal they are - the previous owners claim it's chardonnay - but who cares, I have grapevines growing in my backyard!

Grad night

Wow. It's official. It's really, really real. I'm a sommelier. Tonight was the grad dinner at Algonquin, and what a fantastic night it was. Everyone looked dapper in their spiffy threads as we talked and ate and laughed and drank in the company of our significant others, parents and other proud-as-punch guests.

An impromptu reception was held in the lobby of Restaurant International as folks trickled in. A lovely Tawse Sketches of Niagara 2008 Rosé accompanied a parade of canapes (tandoori shrimp, Chinese pork on won tons, smoked salmon on potato blintzes, to name a few). The meal that followed would make the culinary instructors proud: smoked duck carpaccio with poached pears, and panko-crusted sea scallops to start; then beef striploin medallions in a wild mushroom and pearl onion ragout; followed by bocca negra cakes with a spicy strawberry and cashew mixture for dessert.

Naturally, there were wines with each course, what with it being a sommelier dinner and all: a crisp André Blanck Rosenbourg 2007 Pinot Blanc (Alsace); a silky-soft Yalumba 'Y' Series 2007 Shiraz Viognier (South Australia); an aggressive, fruit-forward Calafate 2007 Reserva Malbec (Argentina); and an Angrove 2005 Fortified Shiraz (Australia). General consensus at our table was in favour of the Yalumba over the malbec for the main course; we thought the fortified shiraz was a bit bland, though, and not nearly sweet enough to match the intensity of the chocolate. (Whereupon we all chimed out the important rule on dessert wines needing to be sweeter than that which they are paired. Bunch of keeners, the lot of us.)

And I even got to deliver the valedictorian address, something that inspired both pride and panic-fuelled misery in me. Nothing a couple of glasses of wine couldn't fix; it ended up going swimmingly. So did the rest of the evening, as each of us accepted our pins from Madame Paradis (of CA Paradis, the culinary shop sponsoring the evening) to deafening cheers and applause.

I promised everyone that I would post my speech, so without further ado, here it is. (PS - I have no problems if you want to share it with others, but please cite the reference or link to my blog. Thanks!)

When I first tried wine, I wondered how they got all those fruits and vegetables in there. Did they crush green peppers, coffee beans, and blackberries in with the grapes? Did they top up the tanks with gasoline before pouring it over a sweaty horse saddle and straining it through a dirty hay bale on the barn floor?

I’ve never had a problem with asking questions, so I brought that up in my first class. Paul (Carriere - Wine Tasting) kinda looked at me funny, but still took the time to explain that no, wine isn’t made that way. It just tastes that way sometimes.

After four years of study in the sommelier program, I’ve learned a lot more about wine. Two things in particular stand out for me, two things that make wine truly memorable. And they’re two things I’ll never go without, ever again: a Stelvin closure and a Rabbit (wine lever). Suffice to say, you should all be thankful I was only asked to give a speech and not open the bottles for tonight’s dinner!

Actually, I’ve learned more about wine than just how to get into it, although I’m sure we can all agree that’s a crucial first step.

I’ve learned that if it smells like cat’s pee, pencil shavings, or manure, it must be good.

That the tannins in a cabernet sauvignon might feel shanked to some, but caressed to others.

That there are no wrong answers when it comes to describing wine. Unless it’s not the answer Natale (Lofaro - Grape Varieties) wants to hear.

That getting up at 6 am, in the middle of winter, for a day-long Saturday course on vinification is less a test of knowledge and more a test of stamina.

That we can sing the praises of Chateau Pétrus till the cows come home, but it won’t change the fact that a little eight-dollar shiraz-malbec from Argentina keeps selling out at the LCBO.

That when your olfactory senses fail you, a brown nose will work just as well to get by.

That when the instructor says “don’t bring red to your service exam”, there’s a really good reason for it.

And, most importantly, that “you can never tell someone what they like”. (Thanks for that, Sugarbuns … I mean, Randy!)


Some of us signed up for this program on a whim, as a nice way to spend an evening with friends. Then maybe it became a hobby, perhaps even an obsession. For others, it was the first step on a new career path. But there’s one thing we all have in common: we love wine.

We love wine so much it wasn’t enough to simply drink it. We had to know where it came from: what row, in what clos, in what vineyard, on what bank of what river. We had to talk at great length on whether the colour of the wine was deep gold, white gold, pale straw, grassy straw, fresh straw or half-full catheter. We forced our friends and loved ones to endure our pompous diatribes on malolactic fermentation, indigenous varietals and tertiary aromas during a trip to the liquor store.

Now, here we are, with pins on our lapels and a slightly enhanced ability to read labels. Now what?

Thankfully, wine is a lifelong tutor. In every bottle, with every vintage, there will always be something new to discover, something more to love. This program has not only given us the means to enjoy wine on another level, but also to share that knowledge with others, to make wine enjoyable for everyone, whether they can pronounce “gewurztraminer” or not. Because wine isn’t just a collector’s item or status symbol or an unsolved mystery. It isn’t just for the super-elite or the intellectuals anymore.

Wine is the sun setting on your back patio while you fire up the barbeque.

Wine is a flurry of bubbles as you count down to midnight.

Wine is a winter’s afternoon spent curled up by the fire with your favourite book.

Wine is that balcony overlooking the ocean, that little bistro in Paris, or that gently rolling hill outside Siena.

Wine is that perfect dining companion at the chef’s table of a five-star restaurant. Or at the pizza joint down the street.

Wine is the laughter shared by family at the annual reunion picnic.

Wine is a long chat with a dear friend or a silent moment with your soul mate.

Wine goes so well with life. No wonder we all love it so much.

Another down, two more to go

New World Wine Regions wrapped up tonight with the final exam. Another course completed on the road to “getting my pin”. Two more courses and I’ll be a certified smart-ass about wine.

Before I wax poetic about the gorgeous samples from class … can I just say how much I h-a-t-e studying for exams? (At least this time around I had the sense to have a glass of wine on hand while I was doing it. Never thought of that for my Intro to the Sociology of Religion … might have helped.) I crammed as much as I could into my brain, then did the mental equivalent of throwing up on a page. All done. How that tests my intelligence, I’ll never know.

So ends my rant. Here are some more of my favourites from the latter half of the course:

Kim Crawford 2006 Dry Riesling (New Zealand)
I don’t like Chardonnay, but I like Riesling even less. A wine that smells like gasoline? No thanks. Still, this time around, the subtle “petrol” aromas blended well with peach, pineapple and floral notes, followed up with flavours of citrus, honey, apricot, alcohol and fresh herbs. Medium bodied, well balanced, with a nice, smooth mouth feel. (Denise didn’t like this, calling it her “definition of a bad wine”. Huh? Whatever …)

Newton Johnson 2006 Pinot Noir (South Africa)
Hailing from the Elgin Region, which is famous for its p.noirs, this one has all kinds of cherries, dark chocolate, earth and tobacco on the nose. Very sweet taste of cherries, alcohol, with high acid and low tannins. Not as musty or barnyard-y as most p.noirs, quite pleasant, actually.

Craggy Range 2002 Merlot (Gimblett Gravels, New Zealand)
To taste and smell this wine, you’d never believe it was a Merlot. Thick, almost black in the glass, exploding with jammy red fruit, dark chocolate, red licorice and cloves. Pretty intense tannins, but the fruit – almost port-like in nature – is what steals the show. Long, spicy, black cherry finish. Because it’s from Gimblett Gravels , a tiny, all-about-the-terroir area where the wineries need to be certified and every last detail is audited, the price is a steep $40. Worth it? Yup.

Elderton Command 2003 Single Vineyard Shiraz (South Australia)
Thought 40 bucks was pricey? How about this one: everything you’d expect from an Aussie shiraz, all for the bargain-basement price of $75. We’re bordering on port with this gem – rich chocolate, sweet spice, “Christmas cake” aromas and flavours. Every sniff’s a different experience. Tannins are well structured, nice on the mouth, and the finish is long, slightly sweet-tart and delightful.

Next class: Old World Wine Regions in September.

Schoooooool’s out for sum-mer …