Georges DuBoeuf Beaujolais Nouveau 2012

Beefy George has a cherry finish.

Oh, Georges.  It's not you, it's me.  No, maybe it's you.

I'm just not that into you.

I remember liking Beaujolais before, so I was really bummed by this wine.  It tastes like someone melted a Luden's cherry cough drop into it.  After a long day of grading some pretty mediocre essays, I was hoping for some cheering up from you, Beefy George!

But maybe it is me; or rather, my palate.  See, the last time I remember drinking Beaujolais, I was out in Jersey City having dinner at this awesome French BYO.  Therese and I were plowing through the bottles we'd brought with us, when the women at the next table offered us their bottle of Louis Jadot.

"We opened the bottle, but we have to drive.  Do you want it?"

Hell, yeah!  Twist my arm, why don't you?  We're walking home, anyway.

I remember thinking it was awesome.  I remember thinking everything was awesome.  It was just one of those nights.  But who knows?  Maybe my palate was shot.  (I once followed a wine trail and visited five wineries in one day.  I came home with dessert wine because that's all I could taste after a while.)  Maybe after all the wine, and the bouillabaisse, and the mousse, I couldn't taste a thing.

A little while later...

Truth be told, I'm not as angry at this wine as I was at first sip.  I poured a second glass--strictly for research purposes--and it's working out a little better. Wine Enthusiast says, "...This has a rich cherry flavor, with firm tannins and ripe acidity. The finish bears a tangy, textured character."  So the cherry explains the cough drop flavor.  The "tangy, textured" finish initially felt like little spikes on my tongue, but it's mellowed out since. 

Or maybe I have.

I'm on a roll...

 

Leese-Fitch, Chardonnay 2010

Sonoma, California

Wine Enthusiast – 2012 Best Buy (88 points)

$7.99

Recently, my sister and I shared this wine while at my parents' house for dinner. We just had a fresh snow fall and enjoyed the wine before dinner while watching through the family room windows as my kids went sledding in the back yard.

One look at the bottle and my wine blogging counterpart will most likely scoff at the estate on the label as it is devoid of cute farm animals. Apparently the appearance of grazing mares in a field is her code for “best wine ever”. (Editor's Note:  Roosters, actually.  But that's for another time.  Smart-ass.)   The Leese-Fitch Adobe that appears on the wine label is indeed a residence, but has also functioned as an all girls school, military barracks, hotel and a saloon/restaurant. It is an historical landmark that currently stands in Sonoma Plaza.  (Another Editor's Note:  I would definitely drink this wine.  The label features an old building with a cross on it.  You know some serious shit went down in there.  People probably had to stomp on some grapes for penance.  Sorry.  Carry on, Stacy.)

That being said, it's a great wine for the price. And while I do appreciate the more traditional traits of Chardonnay, this is a wine for all the haters out there who don't care for its typical buttery, oakey and heavy flavor. Leese-Fitch Chardonnay is clean and fruity with hints of pear and lemon. It was so easy to drink that the bottle was finished in less than an hour at which time my sister put a scotch on the rocks in front of me...not so easy. Had it lasted, the wine would have paired nicely with the roasted chicken and potatoes we had for dinner and would also go well with fish or a vegetarian meal.

Here's the kicker folks. My mom found that the plastic cork doubles nicely as a beer bottle cork. Yes. Because only my mother cannot finish a beer and is frugal enough to cork it for tomorrow's enjoyment. Cheers!

Chilean Flava

Caliterra Reserva, Carménère, 2009

Colchagua, Chile

I found this little gem on the sale shelf this week at my local “Rite Shop” wines & spirits for only $5.99. I've enjoyed it before at its regular price of $9.99 so I wondered if it would taste even better on sale...so I bought a few bottles. Sure, it's a twist off, but at least there is little to no chance of experiencing the putrid smell and flavor of a wine that has been “corked”.

Now at home, I slip on my comfy clothes and slippers, tune out my kids, and open a bottle. After a swirl and a few sips, I am magically transported to a villa on Vina del Mar on the coast of Chile where my dark and handsome male companion...let's call him Rodolpho, basks in the sun along side of me. He showers me with compliments, massages me with tanning oil and laughs at my jokes while pretending not to notice our young temptress of a housekeeper.

I can see that this fantasy is not leaning in my favor so I snap back to reality and throw back another glassful. This delicious inexpensive red drinks like a wine at a slightly more expensive price point, say...$15 and that's even a bit generous. As is typical for Carménère, this wine has a deep red color with soft tannins and flavor reminiscent of black berries, tobacco and...who cares! It's only $5.99! Enjoy it with steak, pasta, pizza, pop corn, whatever. And remember, Carménère is best to enjoy while it's young...like my Rodolpho.

Overcoming My Own Brand of Snobbery: Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay

No kidding.

Several years ago, I attended the wedding of two people I didn't know because my friend, Therese, didn't want to drive out to Long Island by herself.  It was a lovely evening, made even better by the father of the bride.

Late into the festivities, the FOB sidled up to the bar, clasped his hand on his buddy's shoulder, and made this boozily earnest confession:

"I gotta lay off the Kendall-Jackson."

It was the best thing I had ever heard.  I immediately vowed that when I write that script for an independent film, that line would be in there somewhere.  I tried not to be obvious about my laughter, so I ended up snarfing my drink, which was a white wine spritzer, and it stung.  (A side note:  For dressier occasions that require heels and/or spanx, I go with spritzers.  They keep me hydrated, and in the very likely event that I spill something on myself, they don't stain.)

"I gotta lay off the Kendall-Jackson" was a line oft-repeated in the ensuing years.  I don't know why I found it so funny.  It's like hearing someone say, "I'm so tired.  I was up all night watching Matlock."  Or, "Geez, will you turn down the Kenny G?  People are trying to relax around here."  Kendall-Jackson is not the sort to lead you astray.  You're not going to go heavy on Kendall-Jackson and wake up in the neighbor's swimming pool on a turtle float.  Even I'm too cool for K-J, I thought.

Fast forward to a year ago, when, through some cosmic alignment of stars and planets, my husband and I were off from work before our kids got home from school.  We decided to celebrate our 20 minutes of free time with a drink at a local restaurant.

I ordered a glass of Chardonnay.  It was perfectly chilled, crisp, citrusy, and smooth.  Maybe I was giddy from the quiet, or maybe it was the wine.  But it was lovely.  I had to ask, "What wine is this?"

"Kendall-Jackson."

Kendall-Jackson?  Kendall-Jackson?  How could this be?  It's so...so...mainstream!  And popular!  And I didn't discover it myself!  I was appalled, and my husband was laughing his ass off.  How could I be so square?

 It turns out I am square, because I dig the Kendall-Jackson Chardonnay.  (I'm square for many other reasons as well.)  It's got a clean taste; not too sweet, not too oaky.  A little lemony.  Nice enough to pair with nothing.  I'm square.  So there.

But too bad I don't actually know the bride or her father, because we could totally hang.

Arrogant Frog Pinot Noir 2011

"You're wearing an ascot.  You look like an asshole."

I bought the Frog for my brother and sister-in-law for Christmas.  I had never tried it, but chose the wine based solely on the label.  See, my brother and I enjoy speaking bad French with each other.  It's just this thing we do.  My brother took two years of French in high school, and boiled all his learning down to one sentence:  "Je ne mange pas le fromage en hiver."  (I do not eat the cheese in winter.)

My mother and I once translated "Unchained Melody" into French.  I enjoy singing that into my husband's face at weddings. 

But I digress.  Arrogant Frog.  What a name!  And a picture of a frog in a smoking jacket and ascot!  What more could a pseudo-Francophile ask for?  The best part was that my brother forgot his Christmas present at our house, so we drank it!  And I liked it so much, I bought another bottle, and I'm drinking it as I write.

And no, I still haven't given them their own bottle.  I know my lovely sister-in-law will read this and see the wine she has yet to drink.  (She'll also know that I spent a whopping $10.99 on their Christmas present.  Joyeux Noel!  Je t'adore!)

Mais, mon Dieu!  This is good stuff--screwcap and all.  Fruity with a strong finish.  Tannic.  The label on the back suggests serving it with "grilled meat, rack of lamb, pot roast, poultry, game, or soft cheese."  In case you're wondering, it also pairs well with white cheddar crackers.  (Yeah, I didn't cook tonight.)

Perhaps I should buy une bouteille pour mon frère.  Santé, y'all!

Rule #1

If it has a yellow label with a picture of a plantation house on it, it's probably crap.

Do NOT pour that piss in my glass!

I mean it.  I'll drink just about anything, but if my husband brings home some pinot grigio, and the label features a mansion,* I go all Dame Maggie Smith on his ass.  When it comes to indignation over which cheap wine I'll drink, the Dowager Countess has nothing on me.

*I would make an exception if the label featured a picture of Downton Abbey, or Highclere Castle, as it is known in real life.  Has anybody thought of this?  Is there Downton wine?  There should be.

If, on the other hand, the label sports a half-assed sketch of a barnyard animal, I'm in.

Homage Ravenous Red--$8.99

Can't turn off the flash.

"Subtle as a kick in the head."  --My husband. 

I agree, but I'm not complaining.

See, most of the time, we're doing the healthy eating thing--chicken, fish, rice, veg, salad.  But tonight is the Superbowl, and all that's out the window.  I'm eating bar food.  I'm eating "mac n cheez bites."  I'm not sure that what I'm eating qualifies as real food.

Homage is  a blend of cab, merlot, zinfandel, and petite syrah.  This wine is not mild.  It's got a little legs, some tannins, and a strong finish.

So I offered my husband a sip, and he said, "Whoa."  Then I handed him the battered glob of cheez and told him to try again.  The verdict?

"It totally works."

So I'm going to green light the Ravenous Red--provided you're not taking pride in the meal you just cooked.  It could overpower it.  But should you find yourself eating wads of fried God-knows-what, go for it.  It's pretty badass.