To Age or Not to Age?

As I mentioned in my last post, I had the pleasure of having a quite delicious bottle of 1987 Robert Mondavi Cabernet sauvignon Reserve the other day. I always love to add a wine with a bit of age to it to any tasting I run because it allows people to experience something unusual and perhaps get them to understand what the fuss is all about. As they always say though, with an aged wine, there are no good wines only good bottles. Luckily the Mondavi was stored properly, and was just beautiful.

When a grape is presse and the juice has certain flavors and aromas typical of the grape. So for instance the juice from your Merlot will smell of plums, Cabernet Sauvignon will smell of black currants and cassis, Pinot Noir will smell like red and black cheries. These are called primary aromas. Primary aromas are present before the winemaker does anything.

Once the winemaker becomes involved and after fermentation occurs, some new and very different aromas - called secondary aromas -- are introduced. These can be quite varied, but the most obvious example is vanilla or coconut from the oak barrels. These secondary aromas add complexity to the wine, so that it smells and tastes like something other than just plain grape juice.

As a wine ages, an additional layer of complexity is added; indeed the more developed a wien is, the more prominent these aromas are, eventually coming to dominate the wine. They are tertiary aromas. The Mondavi in particular had a pronounced bouquet of dried leaves and also a bit of earthiness. These are the types of aromas that are in an aged wine. They can't be produced from merely grape juice alone, nor by a winemaker or fermentation. The intense bouquet of an aged wine can only be achieved through the gentle processes that occur in the bottle over the course of years or maybe decades. It is with age that a wine finally eveolves into a noble beverage to bee savored.

If you are going to age wine, here are a few tips:

The wine should be stored in a cool, dark preferably moist place. Cool - as in 55 degrees - ensures that the wine doesn't get "cooked". Dark because wine doesn't like light, and light can prematurely oxidise a wine.

If you stick to those three things, or purchase one of the many excellent designer wine cellars that mimics a traditional one, then you should have no problem replicating my experience with the 93 Mondavi.

Let's review...

I led a very enjoyable tasting this evening for an avid group of participants. I will get to a discussion of "aged wines" as promised in my last post in the next few days. Until then, I will leave you with this:

I truly enjoyed 1993 Robert Mondavi Cabernet Sauvignon Reserve this evening. I have to respect a producer that can maintain market share by producing wines of good quality at affordable prices but at the same time is capable of producing profound wines. Yet, Mondavi is hit or miss at the high end for me. Tonight was a hit. The best Mondavi I have tasted was the '78 en magnum (wine #12) about five years ago. At the same time I basically skipped an '87 Reserve Cab about seven years ago (a gift from a client) in favor of an $18 bottle of Jean-Louis Grippat St.-Joseph from the Northern Rhone. I wish Grippat were still alive and making affordable simply yummy wines.

In any case, I don't think the Mondavi was profund, but wow was it good. A nose of dried leaves and earth. A hint of cassis. At its peak. Perfect balance. This wine is a good example of why my personal perferences (which lean toward elegance and balance) lead me more to very good '93's than the more voplutuous '94's. I'm not saying one is better than the other, but I do so love a wine in perfect harmony, and the Mondavi did that and more...more later...

I do wish to highlight a few things I refrenced in my tasting tonight and upon which I have previously blogged. There are a few random items that came up during our tasting, so here are the relevant links:

Why don't I like what the experts do?
Because the experts, or at least, I, like balance...

Why do Chardonnays taste differently?

Birth Year Wines

Tapas

I know if you were at my tasting tonight you are curious about Liquid Gold? Here's the extended version...
Liquid Gold
Liquid Gold Part 2

And by the way, I didn't mention this tonight , but Matt Karmer does a great job of explaining most of the California wines one will encounter...

My Pick for the Year's Best Wine Book [2006]

If you participated in my tasting this evening, thank you for a splendid evening. I learned a lot.

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary & Thyme

I remember the first time I ever smelled sage in a wine. Not just a little hint, but plunged my nose into the glass and immediately felt as though my entire nasal passage was filled by the smell of fresh sage. (The wine was 1997 Beaune 1er Cru Greves "Vigne de l'Enfant Jesus, Bouchard Pere et fils).

While I've always been a huge fan of sage, across the board I love all fresh herbs. They are highly under-utilized by the home chef, who can add just a touch to almost any dish and improve its flavor and expression immensely. Since my plants are finally coming up, I thought I'd pass on some quick and easy ideas for what to do with your herb garden. If you DON'T have an herb garden, consider it this year. For the price of a handful of plants ($10), a few flower pots ($15) and some soil ($7) the results are, to steal a phrase, priceless.

Rosemary - cut up new potatoes, douse heavily in olive oil, garlic salt pepper and finish with fresh rosemary. Put it under the broiler. A great side for your next cookout. Or get some baker's yeast, flour, water and olive oil, mix in some fresh rosemary and put your choice of olives, sund-dried tomatoes, etc on top for easy foccaccia.

Basil - Insalata Cabrese is a favorite. Fresh buffalo mozzarella, slice tomato, and basil leaves drizzled with olive oil. Or ender fat from pancetta, sautee garlic and shallots, add whole tomatoes and basil and cook low, slow and long for a great pasta sauce.

Sage - one of my all-time favorite appetizer/first courses, from David Rosengarten: Sausage-Stuffed Radicchio Cups.

Parsley - Add chopped parsley, capers and a bit of dry mustard to Chopped Tuna for the best tuna tartare.

Send me your ideas if you have more to add, we'd love to add it to our recommendations.

(My mint is still coming alive, but you can be sure that when it does, I will be mixing up a mint julip and doing some sun tanning).

I have some interested wines to taste later in the week, and hope to explore a much discussed question, to age or not age in my next post...

The Golden Rule

As I mentioned in my last post, I became an Uncle recently, so I have been spending much of my free time trying to explain terroir to my niece Riley. I got into an argument with a few people on a wine discussion board regarding this very subject.

Here's the rundown.

Wine, like anything else, gives people who know (or claim to be in the know) a possibility to make you feel dumb (if you let them). Now I love Rielsing; I actually probably drink Riesling more than any other wine, mainly because they are generally lower in alocohol than other wines and so I can drink a whole bottle and not worry about the side effects. The problem is that Riesling people have a certain air of importance about them - you mean YOU don't think Rielsing is the greatest wine on earth.

Now admittedly, I am like that about Burgundy, but I freely admit that. I freely admit that I think that Burgundy is the greatest wine on earth (red or white) and I am a pretentious, arrogant slime because of that. But I'm not smug about it. It is what is.

More importantly, if YOU think that MERLOT or some other grape is the greatest grape in the world, I'm fine with that. I ahve often said that as a professional, I don't taste a wine thinking whether or not I like it, I taste a wine thinking who would like it. That my saound like a very capitalistic approach, but I don't mean it in that sense. YOU and I like different things. I like Haydn [a dead white guy] and George Strait for music, I like Burgundy for wine, I like the engravings of Albrecht Durer [another dead white guy], I enjoy sage more than basil, and I live and die black and gold with the Pittsburgh Steelers, Penguins and Pirates.

I'm only an expert in one of those cases - wine - but you still don't have to agree with me. I strongly suggest the wine sthat we have available for sale. If you read my posts, it's obvious which ones I prefer. But My 90 pointer may be your 80 pointer. Give us a call or send us an email. Although Riley may eventually hate Haydn's Symphony 101 "the Clock Symphony", for now, she's going to sleep every night to it (or well, occassionally she's at least sleeping). I won't do that to you!

More Cowbell?

I (you, we) hate the prices of wine. Wine is an imperfect market as I learned very quickly working for an auction house. Although stocks can dip or crescendo on the whims of one investor (Buffet buys a railroad - all of a sudden we think we're playing Monopoly), given the number of stocks that's not the norm. Wine's different. Public opinion and quality are very irregular.

I was recentlt preparing a list of wines to be tasted for a business group and I had a few ideas going into the project. Nothing earth-shattering: I like themes like "A Walk Thorugh Napa Valley", "An Introduction to the Wines of France", or something like that. In particular, the latter is very inclusive and is a good theme. The novice interrogates, "Oh, so Sauvignon Blanc is from the Loire. Tell me more...". The more advanced taster asks, "Do you prefer Chateauneuf-du-Pape from 1998 or 1999 and why?" In short there's a broad range of exciting possibilities about which we can talk, and I feel out the audience.

Here's the thing, I've been given a budget that's "too high" for what I feel I can accomplish in a tasting, unless of course I'm reviewing, for example, the evolution of 1998 Grand Crus from Burgundy. I'm putting together my list, and I'm ignoring the budget, because my wines are going to be less. Why? Because once you're getting into the $60-$80 range (minimum) per bottle, another $40 doesn't really buy you better wine, unless you're talking vintage wine (i.e. '74 Heitz Martha's Vineyard) - and then the event becomes more than a gathering and instead a few hours for analysis and contemplation.

I have to be honest, I think wine can/should be less expensive than most people think it is. If two couple commit $30 - $40 once a week, you can taste 104 wines a year (all other dinners excluded) and cook a really nice brunch each weekend + have an appropriate amount of wine for a Saturday afternoon or Sunday afternoon for the young and adventuresome!

So as is typical of my history, I'm currently planning on a "down"-sell, but that's all right. I much prefer wines that are appropriate to the goals of the event (or consumer in question). In the end, more cowbell doesn't always do it...

It's a Girl!

After a false alarm Monday and another 20+hour wait on Thursday, I am finally an Uncle. Riley Elizabeth Puckey needed a bit of time in the oven but I'm happy to that she is doing fine and came home to my sister's today.

Now, I'd imagine her parents are thinking about things such as college, whether she'll be a ballerina or a teacher, you know, the important things. Of course these are the last things that a Wine Consultant like myself would want to be bothered with right now; the most obvious question is, how will the 2007 Vintage turn out, since these will be Riley's birth year wines. I admit that I'm pretty twisted.

It's an important consideration. Very few years produce excellent wines in every wine region, and not every well-made wine will age for the requisite twenty-one years or more required to head into adulthood in style. As a wine consultant, if I had a dime for every time I was asked, "My daughter was born in xxxx, what wine should I buy to celebrate her 21st Birthday", I would already be retired. So without further ado, for your consideration and reference, here's my far-from-complete, super-unofficial birth year wine chart:

2005 Bordeaux, Sauternes, Burgundy, Northern Rhone, Southern Rhone, Spain, Australia
2004 Port, Spain, Italy, selected Bordeaux and California Cabs
2003 Rhone, Burgundy, Bordeaux
2002 Burgundy, California Reds, Australian Reds
2001 California Reds, Burgundy (Cote de Nuits), Sauternes, Rhones north and south
2000 Bordeaux, Port, Rhones especially Southern, Italy
1999 Burgundy, Rhones especially Northern, Italy
1998 Rhones, Bordeaux (Right Bank), selected Burgundy
1997 Italy, California
1996 Champagne, Burgundy, Bordeaux (Left Bank), Spain

That'll give you a decade to play with for starters. Keep in mind that buying the best producers as well as the producers noted for longevity will go along way in making sure Birthday #21 is special, but without proper, that is, impeccable, storage, you might as well just flush your money (and wine) down the toilet...

Bing!

“When Chekhov saw the long winter, he saw a winter bleak and dark and bereft of hope. Yet we know that winter is just another step in the cycle of life. But standing here among the people of Punxsutawney and basking in the warmth of their hearths and hearts, I couldn't imagine a better fate than a long and lustrous winter.”

Being a big fan of Bill Murray (a living White Guy) and Anton Chekhov (a Dead White Guy) I couldn’t help but think of the above quote from Groundhog Day this afternoon as continued working my way through some of the latest releases of Pope Valley Winery. It was the Rose that had me particularly yearning for this weather to break.

The new apartment into which I moved several months ago has the perfect little area for a picnic with some vino and me as the grillmaster. I’m really looking forward to the opportunity to make an assortment of light appetizers for a handful of my good friends – tapas – which if you read this blog regularly, I’m sure you already realize that I’m a pretty big fan of quite a few simple yet interesting dishes, much like my wine.

I cracked a bottle of Pope Valley Winery’s 2005 Sangiovese Bella Rosa this evening and it had me thinking of my upcoming gathering. First, my projected menu:

pan a la Catalana // pimientos estilo gernika // aceitunas mixtas
toasted bread topped with garlic, tomato & coriander
grilled poblano peppers with sea salt
mixed Spanish olives

serrano y manchego // champiñones al ajillo
Spanish cheese wrapped in ham
fried oyster mushrooms

paella de chorizo // pollo y limon // coredero moruno
seafood & sausage paella
chicken cooked in white wine, lemon juice and thyme
skewered marinated lamb

Now there’s no doubt in mind as I drink this wine that I’m going to have to add some tuna tartare to the list, but this wine is what I’ll be serving – along with some Sangria and some sherry and probably some Madeira when it’s time to relax.

I have always personally thought that the White Zinfandel Craze is kind of off base. Not that I have a problem with pink wines – by all means I love rose wine. But White Zinfandel comes from the (red) zinfandel grape. Zinfandel generally achieves uber-maturity, and so when making White Zin, rather than fermenting it to 16% alcohol they leave a bit of sugar. (Sugar converts to alcohol in fermentation. To simplify, if a winemaker leaves some unfermented sugar in a wine, the alcohol is less.) I generally don’t like sweet wines unless they have quite a bit of acidity to counterbalance them (such as in a well-made German Riesling). That’s why I’ve always thought lower-alcohol grapes such as Pinot Noir and (as is the case here) Sangiovese make better rose – pink wines.

In the bottle I have before me, the Pope Valley Winery 2005 Sangiovese Bella Rosa, I have a wine that served just slightly chilled (European Cellar Temperature – about 55 degrees), would pair with just about anything – and certainly please the most discerning palate when served with a diverse menu of foods such as those listed above. I’m looking forward to my upcoming picnic and more bottles of Pope Valley’s Wine. Dry, versatile and spicy with a touch of clay and a touch of chocolate. Nice acidity, fresh and aromatic. I can already taste it with pan a la Catalana and some paella. I suggest you to do the same! For the record, this would be great with one of my favorite slightly pretentious but inexpensive brunch items - an omelette of tomatoes, leeks and steamed mussels. Or Quiche. Or just about anything else one can dream up for a nice brunch...

So although I am starting to belive the words of Phil Connors, who tells us, “There is no way this winter is *ever* going to end as long as that groundhog keeps seeing his shadow. I don't see any way out of it,” I’m looking forward to some tapas and rose REALLY SOON, on the deck with some friends!

What clear liquor is drunk more often than Vodka, Gin or Rum?

The surprising answer is Soju, a Korean distilled spirit with which thanks to many very good Korean friends I have quite a bit of experience. Although it's a bit of a departure from my normal topics, a recent and very informative episode of The Thirsty Traveler got me thinking that it might be a good topic to explore.

Admittedly I have had A LOT of Soju at select celebrations with some of my best freinds in the world, but knew little bout the beverage itself until now. What follows is mostly information collected from The Thirst Traveler and from Wikipedia. But I hope you enjoy learning about this exotic beverage all the same.

Soju is an alcoholic beverage with origins in Korea. The main ingredient is rice, almost always in combination with other ingredients such as wheat, barley, sweet potato, or tapioca (called dangmil in Korean). Soju is clear in color and typically varies in alcohol content from about 20% to about 45% alcohol by volume (ABV), with 20% ABV being most common. Its taste is comparable to vodka, though it is often slightly sweeter due to the addition of sugar in the manufacturing process.

There are two styles of Soju - old style and new style. Old Style Soju is extremely high in alcohol, and as far as I can tell pretty similar to a grappa or something similar. Old Style Soju is made with rice. New Style Soju has more variable contributions, often beginning with rice but also other additions such as tapioca or sweet potatoes. It's probably this mixture of ingredients that makes Soju remind me of Gin more than other "White Liquors".

Along with the mass-produced brands, which are widely available in Korea, there are several regions which are famous for making soju in a more traditional way, with the soju made in Andong being the most famous ( apoint that The Thirsty Traveler episode pointed out). I must say that for me watching elderly Korean women making artisan Soju in Andong as featured on the television program was one of the most truly fascinating things I have ever seen.

Soju is typically consumed in small shot glasses. The traditional toast is "Kombe!" A guest (and host) will often show respect by pouring and/or accepting the shot of Soju with two hands. When drinking with an elder, it is customary to turn your body entirely away and do the shot facing away from this person as a sign of respect.

What to eat with Soju. Again The Thirsty Traveler showed a beautiful recipe. A thin slice of flattened beef is layered with cooked black rice and julienned carrots. It is rolled and tied. The exterior is seared and flambeed in flaming soju, about 30 seconds a side. Set it aside so the jusices stay inside and then slice medallions.

Kombe!

Follow Your Heart

Those of you who know me best know that I had open-heart surgery when I was younger. I went for a standard checkup at Children's Hospital in Pittsburgh today, where I had my surgery in December, 1976. As expected (or at least as I hoped), I am in perfect health. I gave some thought to my next blog while I was in the waiting room, and, in one of those many "You might be a Wine Geek if…" moments, couldn't get Chateau Calon-Segur out of my head (see label). Not as bad as when I was at a relative's house who had a magnet on their refrigerator of the 1982 Farmer's Almanac for some unknown reason and I thought it was '82 Petrus, but still fairly geeky. Despite the image of Calon-Segur's label in my head, I started instead to think about what was going on in the wine industry in 1976. That's an easy answer: the 1976 Judgement of Paris, a tasting I have mentioned elsewehere.

In my opinion, the Judgement of Paris is possibly the most overdramatized, preposterous piece of marketing nonsense in the wine business, although those who I offend with that comment would probably point to terroir as the same. Before everyone beats me down, let me give you my reasons.

First though, for those of you who are unfamiliar with the Judgement of Paris let me briefly quote from Wikipedia as I often do to save my restating and retyping that which anyone can find with a simple Google search.

• Until 1976, France was generally regarded as having an unchallenged reputation as the foremost producer of the world's best wines. In that year a wine merchant in Paris, Steven Spurrier, organized a prestigious wine tasting in Paris, now known as the Paris Wine Tasting of 1976 or the Judgment of Paris.
  

  The 11 judges were Steven Spurrier, Patricia Gallagher of l'Academie du Vin, Odette Kahn, editor of the Revue du Vin de France, Jean-Claude Vrinat of the Restaurant Taillevent, Raymond Oliver of the restaurant Le Grand Vefour, the sommelier Christian Vanneque of Tour D'Argent, Aubert de Villaine of the Domaine de la Romanee-Conti, Pierre Tari of Chateau Giscours, Pierre Brejoux of the Institute of Appellations of Origin, Michel Dovaz of the Wine Institute of France, and Claude Dubois-Millot. Blind tasting was performed so that none of the judges knew the identity of what was being tasted.
  

The results were that 1973 Stag's Leap Cabernet Sauvignon beat out its able competitors from both California (and more importantly) Bordeaux, including the famous Chateaux Mouton-Rothschild, Montrose and Haut-Brion. This signified (at least for Americans) that California wines could compete with the best in the world (and I certainly agree that they can).

Why do I think the Judgment of Paris is ridiculous? Mainly because I think blind tasting and/or rating wines I ridiculous.

Blind Tastings

Blind Tastings are tastings in which the participants have no idea what wine has been poured for them. In this way, they have no pre-conceived notions as to the quality of wine. I have done blind tastings a million times, and still find them meaningless. I remember the first time I visited Domaine Daniel Dampt in Chablis. I had never had a wine from the Domaine before I arrived, but I was and am intimately familiar with the vintages and vineyards of Chablis. Following a brief tasting of his current vintage, five wines from the year 2000, he poured me a wine blind. After some evaluation I correctly identified the wine as 1997 Chablis Premier Cru Cote de Lechet. I also remember once tasting a wine and saying, "I would bet my job that this is a Premier Cru Meursault from the 1997 vintage": it was 1996 Staglin Rutherford Chardonnay. Luckily I was able to keep my job. Sometimes you get lucky, sometimes you don't. It's like the stock market or playing darts. Over a sustained period of time, everyone I know in the wine business gets more wrong – and oftentimes vastly wrong – than anywhere close to right. As Emile Peynaud claims in his book, in a truly "blind" tasting where participants can't even see the wine, most degustateurs have a difficult time determining which ones are white or red.

But, in the Judgement of Paris they weren't picking wines, they were rating them. Personally, I think this is more ridiculous than trying to identify wines "blind". Magazines, most notably the Wine Spectator, claim that because all wines are tasted blind, there is no slant. On the other hand, "independent" reviewers such as Robert Parker indirectly point out that because they accept no advertisements, there results are not biased. Either way, they're all in the business of sales. Despite the fact that I am a wine professional, I, like you, do buy wines for myself, and I'll put myself entirely into the hands of anyone who has a palate I respect, ads or no ads, blind tastings or not.

When David Heimbourger (my apologies if I misspelled this) worked predominantly in Acker Merrall's retail store in Manhattan's Upper West-Side (last I checked he was largely running tastings and corporate events) I would regularly give him a price and a quantity and let him pick. "Dave, give me six bottles of good, cheap whites from Germany, Alsace and the Loire, around $120 total, and I'll pick them up tomorrow". I trusted him, as many of my clients trust me. In the end that's all that matters.

But I digress. Here's the thing, all wines are not created equal in a blind tasting. There's a reason why wines are served in a particular order (although modern cusine has skewed this quite a bit). Different wines have different characteristics. Let's take an extreme case. Unoaked Chablis (the real stuff, from France) would get lost in a tasting with nine Chardonnays from Australia, because it is less fruit-driven, is not as full-flavored and has lower alcohol. Its merits are lost. This is similar, by the way, to beer. Put the subtly powerful Samuel Smith's Taddy Porter among nine highly-hopped American Microbrews, and it has a good chance of finishing last although it is one of my favorite beers in the world.

So in the end, the 1976 Judgement of Paris while signaling an uptick in notoriety for California helped promote blind tastings as a useful tool, although in only rare cases, in reality they aren't. It also wrongfully promoted the notion that wines can be given a number or rating. They can't. As I always say, if you like it today, right now, then it's a 90 pointer. If you don't it's not. And that number may very well change depending on your mood, your company or what you're eating the next time around.

 

Uncle Pythagoras Would be Proud

I wanted to talk today about the use and misuse of the word "terroir". I will not give in to my desire to defend my beliefs as a "terroirist" despite my yearning to do so. But, whether one agrees with terroir or not, its frequent misuse only adds to everyone's confusion. Continuing with my theme of Dead White Guy refernces, I was thinking of how similar it was to the Pythagorean Theorem: in a right-angled triangle the area of the square whose side is the hypotenuse, c, is equal to the sum of the areas of the squares of the other two sides, b and a, that is, a2+b2=c2. One of the simplest equations ever written, but the greatest minds tried to prove it for centuries to no avail. Terroir is the Pythagorean Theorem of Wine.

Terroir is the combination of natural factors that affect the way grapes grow. I personally stick with a pretty rigid definition, namely that within the larger arena of climate, one can largely determine the character of a grape by knowing the vineyards soil, altitude, slope and aspect. The point is not whether you agree with my assessment of terroir or not. What bothers me is the misuse of the term terroir.

I FREQUENTLY see posts on discussion boards or white-collar-professionals-cum-weekend-wine writers who think that terroir means earth. "The 2005 Chateau _____ Vintage Champagne was full of terroir with earthy tones throughout." Without delving to far into details and exceptions, Champagne grows on Cretaceous Chalk, so if it was "full of terroir" or tasted of the soil, wouldn't its flavors be dominated by chalk?

The French word for earth is terre not terroir. True terroir comes from the root terre, but it's not a direct correlation. The word sinister has its Latin roots in decribing one who is left-handed, but I have yet to hear someone refer to Osama Bin-Laden as that bastard, left-handed murderer.

The use of the word terroir is not restricted to wine. Its used for other agricultural products such as cheese, but also things such as forestry, specifically oak. Scholarly research, such as that of Drs. Paul Kolesar and Bruce Beaver of Duquesne University, doesn't examine how much earthiness an oak barrel imparts on a wine (and certainly not how much the wood tastes like earth!), but rather the characteristics of oak due to the sum total of natural influences and how this in turn affects the chemical composition of the wood. It's the same thing for grapes.

March Madness Update
In an earlier post "The Ides of March", I revealed my pick for the NCAA Tourney, Georgetown. I also revealed that I am usually out of contention very early. Turns out I was spot on, as Georgetown is heading to the Final Four, and I am in the bottom 3% of ESPN's Tourney Pick 'Em.

An Apple a Day...

Wine writers and professionals write tasting notes very differently. The "old way" consisted of less flavor and aroma descriptors and concentrated a bit more on charcteristics more fundamental to a wine and its development: texture, balance, length in the palate, etc. Most of the traditional British Wine Writers favored this method. Among them is the venerable Clive Coates, M.W. (Master of Wine). Here is an example of one of Coates' tasting notes, from one of my favorite Red Burgundies, 1965 Volnay Premier Cru Champans from the Marquis d'Angerville.

"Medium-full color. This is a little lean for the vintage. But perhaps it is still closed. The nose is classy and aromatic - nutty. The finish long and satisfying. The genrosity I'm sure will appear. Very good but not the class and depth for great."

It doesn't matter that I enjoyed the wine more (several years later). What is important is how his tasting note differs from the more modern approach, generall attributed to or at least having its beginnings with Robert Parker. An example from Mr. Parker. It is the same wine, vineyard and producer, but from a more recent vintage, the 1999 vintage:

"The medium to dark ruby-colored 1999 Volnay Champans, from a 4-hectare parcel where 50% of the vines are 40 years of age and the balance over 10 years, displays a sweet blackberry nose. Medium-bodied, this wine has an excellent depth of fruit, a supple, velvety texture, and a fresh personality. Loads of intense blackberry, cassis, plum, and spice flavors can be found in its juicy and expressive character. Drink it over the next 7-8 years."

It is not my intention to debate these two disparate techniques here, but rather examine the oft-asked question: can wine writers really taste such sensations? I emphatically say yes, though I admit that my notes tend to be somewhere in between the two examples given here and if anything are usually less wordy than either.

Nonetheless, as I was sitting down for a wholesome meal of pork chops, sauerkraut and baked apples Sunday, I did my own taste test, that I invite you to repeat at home. I had purchased three types of apples, Macintosh, Fuji and "green" apples to bake with some brown sugar and to accompany my main course. If wine writers and professionals are going to distinguish between Macintosh and Fuji, they'd better have distinguishing characteristics. So I sliced away and set about my tasting.

Very quickly it became clear that the three apples smell and taste very dissimilar. The green apples as expected were typified by a brief sugar-sweetness as they tocuhed my palate and then dominated by the pronounced attack of biting, lemony acidity that followed through forever in the finish. The texture of the Macintosh struck me as it had a waxiness that was not present at all in the green apples and appeared only in traces in the Fuji apples. Flavors and aromas of bananas distinguished the Fujis. In fact the dry, waxiness coupled with the aromas and flavors in the end reminded me very much of the taste of banana as well. I'd like to repeat the experiment with other families of foodstuffs, but my initial observations are that when I say I taste green apples and when I say I taste Macintosh apples, that I am correctly pointing out very distinct flavor sensations. I suspect that with a little practice, or maybe your own experiment or two, you can do the same.

The Ides of March

This will be the last bit of culture of any sort that will be squeezed from me until at least after I'm effectively eliminated from my NCAA Tourney pool. If history is any indication (and this post will have a bit of history or at least historical context for the nerds among us), that will mean that I will again be blogging away about wine no later than Sunday, but possibly earlier. (For the record, I picked the Hoyas, and my sentimental favorite to do well was NC State because Sophomore Ben McCauley is from my home town. They got screwed by the committe and didn't make it much to my surprise. Also for the record, I coached his older brother and also defeated his father's team in a parents versus coaches game at our Championship Celebration, but the last time I saw Ben in person he was in second grade: I gather he's a bit bigger now.)

Anyways, do you know what a Hoya is? You would if you knew greek. It was once a requirement for all Georgetown students to learn both Greek and Latin and their cheer was accordingly half Greek-Half Latin, Hoyas Sextus, literally Behold that Man. You would only know that if you either went to Georgetown, knew both Greek and Latin or were a sink of useless knowledge like me. If you are one of the few that know either Greek or Latin, you may have read the words of the Greek historian Strabo, a contemporary of Caesar, who comments that, “the vine, as you thus proceed [north of Provence], does not easily bring its fruit to maturity.”* Why might that be? Because the further north one proceeds, the cooler the climate and ripeness is more difficult and alcohol is generally lower. Two milennia ago, when the wine trade was first really kicking in among the civilized world, Julius and Brutus and friends went for the sweet stuff with high alcohol.

(While we're on the subject of dead white guys, was it not Santanaya who proclaimed that, "Those who cannot learn from history are doomed to repeat it."?)

Human beings are born with a propensity toward liking things that are sweet. (I can't find a reference for this although I've read it often, so you MD types please comment or otherwise chime in.) Since alcohol has an apparent sweetness to the palate, the macro-wineries of California basically give the consumer what they have always wanted (from the time they were children), wines with high-alcohol or wines with a bit of RS (Residual Sugar) or both. There's nothing wrong with that in of itself, I'd just like to think that most people would like their palates to advance to enjoy a wider diversity of flavor sensations than they did when they were just out of the womb. I always try to sell someone the wine that's right for them, but occassionally I fail. One of my best friends hates practically every wine that I pour, and even when I have one that I think he might like, he hates it. I simply tell him, if you have a wine (or a food item) that you don't like, try to enjoy it as best you can and think to yourself, "What might someone else enjoy about this?" That way, slowly but surely, you very well may enjoy the flavor the next time around.

* Strabo. Geographia. IV.1.2.

Millionaire's Salad

I have to be perfectly honest: before I started this entry, I had never heard of millionaire's salad. It came to me in a roundabout way. It also as far as I can tell is the most inappropriate name for a dish that I have ever seen, since the ingredients will likely cost you under $10 if you're serving less than an army. But let's backtrack a bit first.

Back in the day, I used to regularly attend wine dinners at the now defunct Judson Grill in Midtown Manhattan. Judson was great, the service was outstanding, and the food was really solid, especially for a place of it's size. I loved ending dinner with a milkshake of vanilla ice cream, hot fudge, seltzer water and a shot of Jack Daniel's. It is porbably my favorite dessert in the world to this day.

Every time I ate ate Judson Grill, there was at least one dish that blew you away, and one such dish was a hearts of plam salad. It was so perfect in it's simplicity, yet so refined. ever since then I have been a fan of hearts of palm.

Heart of palm, also called palm heart, palmito, or swamp cabbage, is a vegetable harvested from the inner core and growing bud of certain palm trees (notably the coconut (Cocos nucifera), Palmito Juçara (Euterpe edulis), Açaí palm (Euterpe oleracea), sabal (Sabal spp.) and pejibaye (Bactris gasipaes) palms). It looks a bit like the white part of a very small leek, and when it is cut up, its white concentric circles look the same.

I popped in to Trilogy Restaurant in Pittsburgh for a simple appetizer or first course and a glass of wine a few nights ago. I had a nice glass of 2003 Summerland Chardonnay from Santa Brabara and took a peak at the menu. Sure enough, hearts of palm salad. Now as I just learned prior to sitting down to type this up, hearts of palm is traditionally served in what is called millionaire's salad (who knew?). Since I had never heard of this, and because it's quick and simple to make, I thought I'd mention it here, before I move on to telling you about the Trilogy Salad I did have.

Millionaire's Salad is artichoke hearts, olives, pimentos, and muchrooms with a red wine vinaigrette and some spices (the recipe I found calls for garlic, thyme and parseley). Since it sounds so delicious and simple, and since I suspect that many of you have heard of such as salad I though it deserved mentioning. I also think it would be a nice spring salad and alternative to your normal antipasti.

But here's what I had, and my very abstract recipe for it as I remember it from Trilogy.

* 1 14oz can hearts of palm, drained and sliced into dimes sized circles
* 1/2 lb shrimp, boiled or otherwise pre-cooked however you'd like
(grilling the shrimp might actually be nice come to think of it)
* 1/2 box of pre-cooked pasta, al dente, erring on the harder rather than softer side for texture

I'd put some oil and vinegar on them and let them sit and chill for about two hours and then add about 4 Tbsp. of basil pesto and salt and pepper to taste. Sqeeze some lemon juice over it, mix it up one last time and serve...

So there you have it, two simple, inexpensive salads that will add a liitle bit of diversity to your next gathering. Try it with a clean light to medium white, such as:

2005 Bourassa Vineyards Sauvignon Blanc
2004 Adastra Chardonnay, Carneros
2004 Temecula Hills "No Oak" Chardonnay, Temecula

Ernest Gallo 1909-2007

It is with sadness that I report that Ernest Gallo has died. I have had my hand on the keyboard and eyeballs on the computer screen all day and was unaware of this event until just now. To paraphrase the CNBC announcement that just played in my background, "Ernest Gallo took a recipe for wine that he found in the Modesto Public Library and turned E & J Gallo into the world's largest winery". That's the embodiment of the American Dream.


Here's how Gallo changed the industry. Gallo was the first wine company to hire and train a sales staff spefically to market its brands in individual markets. For example, let's say I sell Chateau Alan at a retail store in New York. I speak to a rep for the New York distributor if I have questions. That rep also sells 300 other wines form all over the world. He gets Chateau Alan from another company in California who has about 50 different wineries they represent. With Gallo, there's a Gallo salesperson in all markets, who is responsible for Gallo products and that's it and he or she works for Gallo. That's the case a little more often with other large wineries and wine conglomerates, but Gallo was first.

I found this amusing write-up from the James Beard Foundation:

"After the war, Ernest devised a bold new advertising campaign for the company, transforming America's relationship with wine with his famous "lifestyle" billboards and ads. And in 1945, he brought his little winery to national attention by convincing Life magazine to attend a grape crush at the winery (the key selling point was a scantily-clad woman bathing in wine). But Ernest's success was due as much to little things as to big ones. He constantly visited stores across the country that stocked his wine, checking on bottle positioning, displays and sales. (He was, as Anthony Dias Blue of Bon Appétit recalls, once arrested in a tiny town in Texas for lurking in local liquor stores. When he explained that he was Ernest Gallo, the sheriff reportedly replied, "and I'm George Washington," and carted him off to jail). Ernest was tireless-and effective. Between 1948 and 1955, sales rose 400%. He set down his precepts in a three-hundred-page secret marketing "Bible" that the family still uses. He is, Dias Blue asserts, unquestionably "a marketing genius."

Here is the E&J Gallo Press Release.

So, raise your next glass to a wine industry innovator and legend who lived the American Dream to the fullest...

Glory Days

I ended last night in conversation with a friend about modern business classics such as Den of Thieves, Liar's Parker, The Smartest Guys in the Room and A Random Walk. We were discussing the efficiency and inefficiency of financial markets. It got me thinking again about wine prices and my most recent "random walk" down the aisles of a wine store.

As I perused the selections available, a few bottles of Calera Pinot Noir, the single-vineyard stuff, caught my eye. $55 a bottle. If you have been into wine for a while, you'll remember the following. If you're new to wine, the story is as meaningful as ever.

Calera is an outstanding producer of California Pinot Noir. For a while in the mid-1990's, Calera was fairly cultish, tough to find, expensive vis-a-vis its peers at the time, but certainly of high quality. I dug out my notes on a seven-year old Calera from a wine dinner on February 3rd, 2001:

1994 Calera Pinot Noir, Selleck
Very good concentration of raspberries and cassis. Structured by nice, ripe tannins. Nice wine...etc, etc.

A fine showing by a seven-year old California Pinot Noir being that most are made in a more fashionable, drink-me-know fashion.

It was right around this time give or take a year or maybe a few months, that Josh Jensen of Calera came out with his now (in)famous newsletter of new releases wherein he explained that the he was rasing the price of Calera's single vineyard offering from $55 to $80 per bottle in order to keep his prices even with other top Pinot Noirs from California. Everyone in the wine business walked around with the same type of buzz that many of us had Tuesday morning as we saw months of growth in our 401(k)'s vanish (okay, perhaps I'm being a bit melodramatic, but you get the point). Not long thereafter, although quality has never waned, Calera dropped off the radar quite a bit.

So, during my recent "random walk" it was fitting that I saw Calera Selleck vineyard waiting for me on the shelf. After a period of time where Calera Pinot Noir was overpriced, the Calera stable has experienced a "market correction" and has returned to $55 dollars a bottle, right back where it was about seven years ago. I had visions of Jim Cramer in my head ("Buy!Buy!Buy!") and picked up a bottle to enjoy with a steak that evening. Admittedly, I enjoyed every last sip.

[Bruce Springsteen's Glory Days plays in the background. Fade.]

California Dreamin...

As the checkered flag dropped on yesterday's Auto Club 500, a 500-mile race in Fontana, California, I couldn't help but think to myslef that I wish I had made a weekend of it. I could've left Fonatana in the early evening following what was a pretty exciting race, caught some zzz's and been off early this morning to head down Route 15 to Temecula. Temecula is a great starting point for one's exploration of California's relatively unknown South Coast wineries, and one couldn't do better than beginning the morning at Temecula Hills Winery.

Admittedly, Temecula Hills winery is quite a bit larger than the micro-wineries we normally represent, but that doesn't mean there still isn't that homey feeling. The reason most wineries in the surrounding areas are on the larger side is part geography, part history. First of all, it is generally less mountanous here, and as a result there are less obtrusive geographical boundaries that naturally separate tracts of land. Secondly, this area is relatively new to commercial planting, and so a small number of (in my opinion very wise) investors were able to walk in and find the space to plant vineyards without restriction. This is not unlike what happened in the "lesser" AVA's located in the Central Coast in the 1960's.

Here's the difference. There are several ways to make the "rich, buttery" Chardonnays for which California wineries were long noted. The two most common are through full malo-lactic fermentation and the other is through the use of oak. If a winery employs both techniques without care, the result is an opulent, blowsy white that is more of a meal than a refreshment, and not entirely what I want.

This needs explanation. When Chardonnay grapes ferment - that is, turn their natural sugars into alcohol - that is called primary fermentation. The wine that results has a lot of green apple flavor and acidity, something known as malic acid. There another conversion that takes place, malo-lactic or secondary fermentation, that changes this more biting acidity into a creamier textured acidity, lactic acidity. (Think malic - milk, it is the same acid.) So there is a smoother mouthfeel. Winemakers allow malolactic fermentation to occur in varying degrees, some may choose no malolactic, full malolactic or somewhere in between. If the grapes are ultraripe, ultrasweet and high in alcohol (alcohol adds apparent sweetness to alcoholic beverages such as wine) then the wine becomes too "soft" in the mouth, very full, too creamy and overall not that friendly with most foods.

The same thing can happen with oak. Oak adds a certain vanilla, coconut flavor to the wine (in varying degrees depending on a lot of factors, a topic I hope to explore in the future). With the vanilla, coconut flavoring from oak and full malo-lactic fermentation and a lot of heat (and hence ripeness and alcohol), the wine becomes unbearably clumsy, weighty and sweet.

Luckily, one of our favorite stops in Temecula, where it is quite warm, is Temecula Hills Winery. Realizing that balance is always required in a wine (balance, as my regular readers already know, is what I most prize in a wine), Temecula Hills makes their Chardonnay sans oak, offering instead, pure, natural Chardonnay flavors and the essence of sunny Southern California. They opt for an unoaked Chardonnay, skipping the sweet oaky flavors that might throw the wine out of balance. The wine that results is fresh, flavorful juice that has a nice backbone.

Those of us on the east coast about now could probably use a bit of sunny, Southern California in a bottle. If you do, like I do, I recommend 2004 Temecula Hills Winery Unoaked Chardonnay without hesitation. Sunshine in a bottle - without the sunburn: Enjoy!

The Results Are In: Double Gold Best in Show

I discussed one of our latest additions, Escafeld Winery, earlier in this blog, and, having already covered their peppery, chocolatey Zinfandel, as promised I wanted to follow up on my outstanding recent tasting of Escafeld's 2004 Petit Verdot.

Many of you may be unfamiliar with the grape Petit Verdot, but even those of you who do not know it, may have had it, at least in small doses. Petit Verdot is typically an element in Red Bordeaux, adding tannins and color to the better known Cabernet Sauvignon and Merlot grapes. Being part of the "classic Bordeaux Blend", California vintners eventually planted the grape as well.

If you drink only California Cabernet Sauvignon's and similar wines, you may still think that you have never had Petit Verdot: think again. Petit Verdot plays a supporting role in many of the most popular Cabernet Sauvignon-based wines made in California today. Names such as Rudd, Murphy-Goode, Seavey and even last year's Wine Spectator Wine of the Year, Jospeh Phelps Insignia, all contain Petit Verdot.

What's great about Escafeld is that rather than being and endnote to the story, their Petit Verdot is the body of the work. Don't be led down the path to fool's gold in thinking that if Petit Verdot is never seen alone in Bordeaux that it won't make anything special; Monterey County is a long way from Bordeaux. Given that it is often quite easy to tell the difference between Cabernet Sauvignon from Napa as opposed to Sonoma, wouldn't it make sense that Petit Verdot would take on different charcteristics than it does 6,000 miles away in France's famous Medoc?

I think that this wine is quite simply outstanding. The wine has a firm texture, full fruit, a sleek mouthfeel and great length. You could drink it with anything from Burgers to Spicy Pasta (like the Italian Sausage Marinara concotion simmering on my stove right now). Either way, I'll skip the sales pitch and let the judges decide. The results of the recent San Francisco Chronicle Wine Competition:

All Other Bordeaux Varietals - 2007 Award Winners


SCHOTT ZWIESEL Double Gold Best of Class
Escafeld 2004 Petit Verdot San Antonio Valley, Monterey County, CA


SCHOTT ZWIESEL Gold
Cinnabar Vineyards 2003 Malbec

SCHOTT ZWIESEL Silver
Berryessa Gap Vineyards 2004 Malbec Berryessa Gap Vineyards
deLorimier 2003 Malbec Alexander Valley Estate
Mosaic 2004 Malbec Alexander Valley
Opolo Vineyards 2004 Petit Verdot Paso Robles
Rancho Sisquoc 2004 Malbec Flood Family Vineyards
Reininger Winery 2003 Carmenére Walla Walla Valley 7 Hills
Snake River Winery 2004 Malbec Wood River Vineyard
Stonegate Winery 2003 Petit Verdot Napa Valley, Wappo Vineyard
Stryker Sonoma Winery 2004 Petit Verdot Knights Valley Speedy Creek Vineyard

SCHOTT ZWIESEL Bronze
Forest Glen Winery 2003 Malbec
Lapis Luna 2004 Petit Verdot San Luis Obispo
McKenzie-Mueller Vineyards & Winery 2003 Malbec

As an addendum, the 2004 Escafeld Petit Verdot is the first ever winery to bear the AVA name of San Antonio Valley .. things look pretty promising so far!

Trust me...

A recent post by our CEO, William Bellomo gives further details on Silver Mountain owner Jerold O'Brien.

Selling wine is a tough job in some ways. My clients who have known me for five or ten years get used to trusting me and know that I will do my best to bring them the best wine for them. Those long-time customers, who I prefer to think of as friends, understand my sometimes simple and straightforward words. For those friends of mine, I tell them "listen buy Silver Mountain wine".

The pinots are great. The chard is great. These are wines that are priced well below what they are worth and deliver. Given the facts that William has presented in his blog, it is clear that Mr. O'Brien is an interesting an accomplished gentleman. But more than that, we have a great time in Santa Cruz when we visit him. He is extremely pleasant anmd very welcoming. When I can sell great wines, at great prices, made by great people, my job suddenly becomes easier.

I would love to have you visit Silver Mountain's product page. Our inboxes and phones are always waiting for you. If you have any questions, give us a call. These are great wines, at great prices, made by great people. Trust me.

The Great American Grape

As a follow up to my previous post that included my resipe for Al's Super-Easy Chili, I wanted to discuss what wines to drink with it. Instinctively, maybe refelxively, if I am asked what wine to drink with Spicy Tex-Mex dishes or just anything on a grill save grilled fish, my answer is usually Zinfandel. After all, we are talking about "the Great American Race" and from a gastronomical standpoint, grilling is as American as Apple Pie and chili probably figures in there somewhere as well.

So why Zinfandel? From wikipedia,

Although similar to other varieties of the Vitis vinifera imported from Europe, Zinfandel was long considered "America's vine and wine." Zinfandel was brought to the United States (Long Island) from a varietal collection of the Imperial State Nursery of Vienna in the 1820s. In the cooler climates it was grown in greenhouses. In California the first Zinfandel vineyards were planted in the 1830s. Its popularity grew swiftly, and by the end of the 19th century it became the most widespread variety in the US.

Vintners have grown Zinfandel in quantity for over one hundred years. Many of the oldest wineries in California grow Zinfandel and the vines are now treated almost like historic landmarks. At the start of prohibition Zinfandel was California's most popular and successful variety. During prohibition, limited home winemaking and the production of sacramental wine was allowed, and Zinfandel remained popular with Northern California's home wine makers. However, on the East Coast Zinfandel fell in popularity and was replaced by thicker-skinned varieties. Zinfandel's tight bunches left its thin skins susceptible to rot on the slow train rides to Eastern home wine makers. The creation of White Zinfandel in the 1970s further saved the vines by providing a larger market for the grape. In the 1990s the market for premium wine increased sufficiently that old vine Zinfandel became valuable on its own.

(Further reading of the article will show that we have in more recent times come to the conclusion that Zinfandel is probably actually from Italy, a realtive of the Primitivo grape; even so, Zinfandel secured it's place as "the Great American Grape" long ago.)


So if Zinfandel is "the Great American Grape" and foods such as Burgers and Chili are our cook's badges of honor, wouldn't be lucky if the wine and the food paired well together, so that we, like the French, Italians, etc. would have wines that go with our regional cusine? The fortunate answer is that they do.

Take, Escafeld Winery's 2003 Monterey County Zinfandel, one of our latest discoveries. Even Al's Super-Easy Chili is an incredibly complex blend of flavors - cumin, chili peppers, green peppers, black peppers, tomatoes, kidney beans, onions, beef, pork, vinegar, garlic, sharp cheddar cheese - that's a lot of different flavors in one little bowl. A wine with subtle flavors just simply doesn't work. I regualrly make the argument that Red Burgundy (Pinot Noir from France) is the world's most versatile red wine, but the Musignys and Gevreys of the world need not apply here: although they have remarkable complexity, Pinots, especially those from Burgundy, are more about finesse than pronounced flavors (not too mention haunting aromatics that would get lost in the robust scents of chili). Escafeld's Zin on the other hand, hits the spot. The interplay of spice and sweet fruits (raisins, ripe berries) not to mention the chocolatey finish mimcs the contrapuntal flavors of, for example, spanish onions and chilis.

We have already implied the nextrequirement for a Chili-wine: it must be robust, an appropriate descriptor for the Escafeld Zin. What I like a lot about the Escafeld Zin is that, while it is a full-bodied ande robust wine, it is still a wine of balance, the most important element in any wine for me. Robust yes, but all the elements are in equilibrium; not unlike the addition of vinegar in the chili, as I described it in my previous post. Too much, and you get a really strong acetic taste and smell, and you might as well start agin. But there is a certain point in any dish where the right amount of salt or acid (acetic, i.e. vinegar, or citric, i.e. lemon, lime, orange, etc.) or any wine where the right amount of alcohol, sugar, ripeness, tannin and acidity are all in perfect balance. So once you have the chili down pat, it will require much less effort to pull the cork on Escafeld's 2003 Monterey Zin. A "Great American Wine" with a "Great American Dish" during the "Great American Race": robust, balanced and simply delicious.

For more on Escafeld winery, visit their product page on www.avawine.com or visit the entertaining Vineyard Diary of our friend Elsbeth Wetherill, co-owner of Escafeld vineyards. Among other things, you can read Elsbeth's comments on Escafeld Winery's 2004 Petit Verdot, Double-Gold "Best of Class" Winner in the recent San Francisco Wine Chronicle Competition - the subject of my next blog entry.

The Great American Race

With "the Great American Game" just finished and the "the Great American Race" coming up on Sunday, it seemed like the perfect time to make a large a pot of chili and then to follow it up with a good dose of some of our new arrivals.

Part #1) Let's start with the chili.

A lot of people ask me for my chili recipe because, well, I make a good bowl of chili. The problem is, I don't really have a recipe. I also don't really do the whole measurement thing when I'm cooking, preferring instead to let my sense of smell and taste guide me. But since, it's a frequent question, here's a approximated version in a nut shell. Most people don't know the secret indgredient IMO of a good bowl of chili - vinegar. Believe me - it makes all the difference. The most common mistake people make when cooking is not using enough of the handful of things that enhance the wonderful flavors of your dishes (that is, salt, citric juice such as that of lemons and vinegars iof various types). If you don't believe me, make gazpacho some time. It's real easy. Try one bowl with no vinegar to finish it off. Try another with cheap red wine vinegar. Try a final one with good, aged red wine vinegar. I'll bet that you can tell the difference. It's the same idea here.

My easy version is as follow:
- One large chopped green onion
- Two large chopped spanish onions
- 1/4 cup chili powder
- 1 T garlic
- 1 lb. ground beef
- 1 lb. ground pork
- beef suet
- 3 large cans of diced tomatoes
- 3 small cans kidney beans



Put a large saucepan over medium heat. Put a few chunks of beef suet into the pan until it becomes liquid. Add the minced garlic, being careful not to burn. Add green pepper and cook until begins to soften. Add onion until it begins to soften. Add pork, beef and chili poweder and begin to brown. One the meat has browned the whole way through, drain tghe excess moisture and fat from the chiili. Put in your tomatoes and kidney beans and a salt and pepper to taste (this is more than you think - maybe a 1/4 cup each). Cook for as long as you can on a slow simmer, three hours or even over night if you can. Take a taste about 1/2 hour before serving and vinegar to taste. Try about a third of a cup, let it simmer for 10 minutes, and if it's still not piquant enough ad some more and repeat until you have chili with some flavor.

By the way, this makes a lot of chili, but it even goes further (and tastes better I think) if you cook up a big bowl of white rice and top the rice with the chili and then chopped red onion and sharp chedder cheese. Also, if you are interested in Texas Style Chili (chili with no beans) this recipe is complicated but the results are worth it...

Next time: finishing your pit stop with wine.