I was in San Diego this weekend visiting my friend Chrissy. Not much happened except I got drunk and got tan. Mission Accomplished. I will note, however, that because she did not have cable television, we missed most of the NCAA tournament. Instead, we watched a countless number of movies, played endlessly, while we drank beer and played dominoes. Some highlights include Adventures in Babysitting and Bad News Bears. Over the course of the weekend, we realized we had watched a total of 8 movies that spanned all different genres.
On a side note, it was also my friend’s birthday this weekend and we ran across this item in a convenience store down in SD: (How convenient! Zing!)
It's not unusual to pick up a wine book that reads like a journal. But Neal Rosenthal's Reflections of a Wine Merchant reads like it could have been the personal journey of a score of young folks who entered the wine industry 30 years ago, me included. The confluence of experience was so uncanny at times that I started thinking this guy had climbed inside my head. He may be a celebrated and accomplished fellow in the world of wine importers now, but in the early days many of us traveled the same wine paths and met many of the same people. This book was like finding a shoe box of photographs that had been put in an attic and forgotten. What a treat to open and enjoy.
The wine journal genre is littered with great tomes of memories, from George Saintsbury to André Simon to Kermit Lynch. Rosenthal's book, like Lynch's, is significant in that many of the people he evolved with are still making wine. And we can still enjoy those wines.
Italy, France, California. Some of the classic wines from these countries that we now consider iconic are uncovered in this book. For instance, Ezio Voyat's 1961 Chambave Rouge is still a precious red. Neal offers a wonderful exposé of native reds grown in early California, such as the Zinfandels from Shenandoah Valley. His wistful recollection of a young Napa Valley and the pre-boom innocence of rolling up and down Highway 29, and his infatuation with Domaine Ferret and the wines and women of the domaine are all memories that I have, too.
Reflections of a Wine Merchant is divided into fifteen chapters. They vary, from revealing dealings the author has with producers to philosophical meanderings. There are chapters titled simply "Terroir," which explain Rosenthal's view of such things, and ones like "Carema, Bees and Friendship," which delves more deeply into the author's relationship with a winemaker. They're intertwined so that the author avoids getting too tedious or too syrupy.
Neal doesn't weight his memoirs with extracurricular activities. No searching for love or epiphany in the vineyard with a bull's horn. Rather, Neal's a man's man. Tall, handsome and swarthy, he is a Sam Shepherd, larger-than-life character looking for the great wines of his times. And along the way he makes lifelong friendships we get to share.
He loves wines in the state in which he finds them. His affection for a vivacious California wine is as unrestrained as his ardor for Montefalco. His appreciation for Burgundy is more as the young acolyte poised to learn, than as one with all the answers, looking for winemakers who've agonized over every little thing they did in the vineyard and the cellar.
But as the title clearly says, this is a book by a wine merchant. One who became a very important taste-maker. In fact, many of the wines he brought to America are still talked about in the cellars and back rooms of wine stores by young sommeliers and wine merchants. And while some salesmen may throw out a Parker score to sell certain wines, a wine from Rosenthal's selection needs none of that. They have their own provenance.
When it comes to his wines, Rosenthal does not over-deliberate in what he's looking for. This is a contrarian view from so many wine writers today, who look to validate their own tastes and preferences in the wines they choose. You might say, shouldn't a wine writer, or anyone for that matter, naturally gravitate towards the wines that reinforce their beliefs? No, Rosenthal is looking for a larger measure of excellence.
Rosenthal does it with happy innocence. He is joyful when he finds a naturally made wine or a wine that has minimal intervention by the winemaker. But I didn't get the sense that he woke up every morning with a mission to find those wines, come hell or high water. Rosenthal has spot-on instincts. He doesn't have to beat the reader over the head with dogmatic verbalizations that morph into some monotonous mantra. He knows quality when he tastes it, and the natural wines that he comes across resonate with his soul. In that sense, this book is more a narrative of exploration and discovery than hypotheses and deduction. The joy of sex rather than the mechanism of it.
In terms of the book's overall construction, my inner editor would have wanted to see a little more editing. Some of the writing is choppy. Some of the facts are not always consistent -- I don't recall hearing that Verdicchio was Umbria's most commercial wine, for instance. A fact checker and an editor looking at this book more as the lyrical story it is might have smoothed out the writing. The information is wonderful and historical, but it would have benefited from a little better rhythm to establish the path of the story, the better to sing the high notes in key.
Reflections of a Wine Merchant also mirrors this fellow wine traveler's deep love for the land and the farmers. And because of Rosenthal's connection to the place and the people, the wines that follow don't need explaining. They exist to be loved. Rosenthal performs double duty by not only telling the stories that resonate with so many of us who made a similar journey, but by providing all of us with an amazing portfolio of wines that we can enjoy and fall in love with on a regular basis.
Neal Rosenthal, Reflections of a Wine Merchant, Farrar, Straus and Giroux 2008, $16.32, (Hardcover).
Alfonso Cevola is the Italian Wine Director for the Glazer's family of companies, based out of Dallas, Texas. Alfonso is a Certified Specialist in Wine and a Special Contributor to the Dallas Morning News, The Well Fed Network and The Sommelier Journal. His wine blog is , posting every Wednesday, Friday and Sunday. He also recent began another blog, called , covering wine and spirits.
It finally feels like spring here in northern California. With the warmer temperatures, I’m starting to feel like breaking open the Viognier and Chardonnay these days. However, warmer temperatures don’t necessarily mean you have to grab that bottle of sweet Riesling.
Here are some of my Spring favorites:
D’Agostini, California Merlot (Sonoma)
2006 Razor’s Edge, Shiraz-Grenache (McLaren Vale, South Australia)
If warmer temps persuade you to break open the lighter fare (translation: white wine), opt for a yummy Torrontes (Argentina’s signature white grape - dry, crisp and full-bodied). Another top choice is Albarino (this is Spain’s signature white wine - light, fresh and high in acid and pairs well with seafood).
So either grab a bottle of red or white - there aren’t any spring time wine drinking rules (well, not in my drinking world).
This has to be the hardest stage I have to go through while raising my kids. Once they get to their teens they begin to make their own choices and with it comes their mistakes. It has taken me a lot of time to build a solid foundation under them and now it is time to see what they do with it.
When it comes to not making the right choices or not measuring the consequences it is very hard for me to made me understood. It is frustrating to try to guide and then be disregarded over and over again. As a parent I has always been ready to lead, protect, provide, motivate, encourage, and fight if I have to. There is only so much we can do to prevent certain devastating consequences at this stage and unfortunately some kids don’t learn their lessons until they hit the bottom. I am not sure if they are crying for something they are not getting from us or if they are just plain stupid sometimes. At this point I am trying to get some feedback from experienced parents and so far they come to the same conclusion: there is not much you can do but to watch from the sidelines and pray as hard as you can for a good outcome.
What are your experiences with these situations? What has worked and what hasn’t?
I went to an aa meeting today during the middle of the day. It was a women’s meeting where they study the steps/traditions. Today was about the 3rd tradition — about how the only requirement for membership is a desire to stop drinking. It was also somebody’s 34th “birthday.” This was the same lady that spoke at a meeting I attended last week.
The reading about the 3rd tradition seemed a little inconsistent to me — the part about the samesman guy that was an athiest and they wanted to kick him out, but allowed him to stay. And then one time he went on an out of town sales call, and they assumed he went on a bender, but he discovered the Gideon bible in the hotel room. So, he was the athiest that took to the bible when it suited him? And I’ve never met a true athiest before –most people believe in something. It’s part of the human condition.
And then the discussion began. There was a lot of kumbuyah, god will take care of you, we all love each other–join us kinda of talk. It was well-intentioned, but still rubbed me the wrong way. One thing I noticed was that many of the women didn’t seem healthy in mind and body — even the ones that were sober for years.
There are a lot of “suggestions” in aa which I see as rules (becasue I don’t really think I’m in a place to determine which suggestions I should heed). And from the meetings and blogs, etc. I get the feeling that I just need to accept it and let it happen. But that’s difficult for me. I don’t like rules. I rebel against them — but only really since I started drinking in college — I never had too much of a problem with them before. And I think some people at the meeting today use aa as an emotional crutch (which is better than drinking, but seems unhealthy to me).
I think I am being open-minded, but careful. I honestly have no idea how to just give in to it, even if I wanted to.
So, I’ll just continue to not drink on my own terms — that is the best I can do right now.
To eat and drink your way around the Twin Cities is to visit nearly every corner of the globe. On the cheap.
Minneapolis highlights featured below: [for ice cream this time - Pavarotti, raspberry chocolate chunk and banana], [get thee to the Bunnery!! go now!!], [fish tacos like you expect at the ocean shore], [bread, soup, sandwiches; what's not to like?], [one of Dad's favorites], [fiendishly good; get the toasted sausage bread as a side], [can't go wrong with anything], at [gyros*], [trendy, upscale Irish pub downtown], on Bryant and Lake, [rock crab gazpacho], and [pastrami on rye with local beer on tap].
In St. Paul I visited the and . Exceptional pho, Hmong sausage**, curry soup and set-your-mouth-ablaze papaya salad at the former; fresh, frozen and imported Asian delicacies galore - with durian fruit stinking up the produce section - at the latter. We also popped over to for a loaf of bread. The pizza here gets rave reviews. [I obviously didn't make it over to Minneapolis' more elegant older sister city too frequently...]
A few week’s ago I wrote a piece about those that defy conventional wisdom that all Long Island wines are over-priced and deliver great local terrior flavors for around $10. There are more local wines that fit this than the four I wrote about, but I can’t believe I left out what may be the king of Long Island budget wines: September’s Mission merlot.
Cutchogue’s produces a limited bottling of this merlot each year as a way to raise money for , a nonprofit that is working to create a 9/11 memorial on the former World Trade Center site. The organization also hosts support groups for the families of those who lost their lives in the terrorist attacks on 9/11.
As a New Yorker, that’s enough to get me to buy, but Lieb has really crafted a great wine that lives up to its solemn label.
The nose is a mix of earth, black cherry and smoke, while the palate is full of tart cherry, cedar, black pepper, green bell pepper with slight hints on mint on the finish. I tasted the 2006 vintage, which was recently released, and there was certainly enough tannin on the wine to allow it to age a few years.
Lieb charges only $9.11 for a bottle, and it donates 91.1 cents from each to September’s Mission.
I’ve never seen it a wine shops, so I think you have to buy it at the tasting room or order it from Lieb’s website. But you should, for many reasons.
A few week’s ago I wrote a piece about those that defy conventional wisdom that all Long Island wines are over-priced and deliver great local terrior flavors for around $10. There are more local wines that fit this than the four I wrote about, but I can’t believe I left out what may be the king of Long Island budget wines: September’s Mission merlot.
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