This Bastille Day, Support The French Revolution!

Everyone has a crazy friend. Not mentally unbalanced, just someone who is perhaps a little bit louder than most, someone who finds themselves in crazy situations and relishes recounting those stories. Someone who takes risks, who packs a whole lot into their day. Their intense personality may occasionally offend those with more mild manners and easily agitated sensibilities. Undoubtedly, however, I have concluded that we are all better off for having crazy friends.

Matt Stewart is my crazy friend. Amongst other ridiculous activities, we have joined a large group in Sevilla attempting to break the Guinness record for largest group breakfast (close, by the way, but no cigar) and dressed up in 18th century colonial garb during San Francisco's popular marathon and drunken walk, Bay to Breakers, to promote his debut novel, The French Revolution. I would not do this for just anyone. Anyway, I'm going to employ my occasional plug privileges to promote both Matt's novel, as well as his launch party this Wednesday at 8pm at Elixir. Though this is Matt's night, Old World Old School will be contributing as well by raffling off a few bottles of French wine. It may not be Volnay, but it sure as hell won't be industrial plonk, either.

Matt writes fiction well, really well. I applaud anyone who has the focus and discipline to write a novel while working full-time, but Matt has written something original and developed a very clever way to get loads of press by debuting the novel on Twitter last summer. He then continued to pursue a publisher, which he now has in Soft Skull Press. Recently the Chronicle reviewed The French Revolution favorably. I'm a third of the way through and am enjoying it. Matt's long, florid, sentences capture San Francisco perfectly, and his third person narrative shows more than a bit of Matt's own character and unique perspective.

Below are the details for this Wednesday night. Viva la revolution!

The French Revolution Book Launch Party at Elixir
Wednesday July 14th at 8pm
16th & Guerrero

MJ, one year after

Last year around this time, many people (ok, myself included) were reeling from this huge loss. Coincidentally, I was in LA around this time last year, and I am heading down there again, as soon as I finish posting this video of one of my favorite MJ jams, "Shake your body down to the ground." Enjoy.

Poulsard, Trousseau and the power of experience

Last night I went to San Francisco's preeminent wine bar, Terroir. I ordered a bottle of 2006 Jacques Puffeney Poulsard 'M' to share with my girlfriend. Surprisingly, it was not good. Not flawed, just aromatically flat, texturally dull, and frankly, disappointing. It improved and brightened up a bit once poured in a carafe and left alone for 45 minutes or so, but I couldn't help but feel a bit flustered by these two facts: that I didn't like a bottle of wine from Jura master Jacques Puffeney, and that a bottle of poulsard from the Jura exported to the US could be so heavy and dull.

Tonight, I just opened a bottle of 2007 Jacques Puffeney Trousseau. It is much, much better. Aromatically a bit funky and animale to be sure, as is the grape's natural tendency, but delicate, expressive, floral and nervy as well. I look forward to drinking the bottle.

To be honest I'm not sure how to conclude here, or if there is any lesson to be learned. That 2007 is a more classic vintage in the Jura? Yes, perhaps. That even your favorite wines will occasionally disappoint? Yeah, that will happen. Let's take a moment to remember that wines require some patience and if you have not had a particular wine at least 6 or more times, then perhaps you don't know it as well as you think you do. Or if you have never visited a region, maybe you aren't really in a position to judge its producers' viticultural and winemaking practices. And if you have never cultivated a vine, let alone any fruits or vegetables, are you really in a position to opine about viticulture?

I myself have not heeded these advisories, and am sure to occasionally not do so in the future. Nonetheless, I would like to attempt to make a more conscious effort towards keeping all of this in mind. And further, I will attempt to learn more from primary sources in the wine world. Not to dismiss the secondary ones (especially, better written blogs) but there is no substitute for acquiring knowledge first-hand, or at the very least through a respected farmer, winemaker or vigneron with experience.

Lacrima di Morro d'Alba and aged grignolino; or, The Value of Blind Tasting

Last night, the monthly tasting group, which I'm thrilled to say is back on track with a renewed sense of purpose and discipline, met up in Oakland to taste two flights of four wines. Typically, if a wine's bottle is covered and it's identity concealed, you might call it 'blind' tasting, but from now on I think I'm going to go with 'brown bag tasting,' out of respect for anyone who is partially or fully blind, so as to not associate this voluntary professional exercise, leisurely activity, or however you experience it, with the involuntary condition of lacking eye sight. So, we tasted two flights of four wines each, trying to guess what was in our glass, what commonality tied the wines together. Typically, this common thread is a region, or perhaps a grape varietal. Last night, it was both a DOC region and its grape varietal for the first flight, lachrima di morro d'alba from the Marche, on the adriatic coast of Italy, south of Emilia Romagna and east of Umbria. For the second flight, it was a broader piemonte regional theme consisting of a few wines from monferrato, a langhe chardonnay and a gattinara.

Brown bag tasting gets a bad rap. In Adventures on the Wine Route, Kermit Lynch famously likens it to strip poker, or some sort of parlor trick. In the 1970's when he was starting out in the business, it was popular to compare some of the classic Bordeaux and Burgundies with some of the best California wines in competitive tastings. You know, The Judgement of Paris and stuff like that. I can understand his point of view, that you cannot understand a wine in a few minutes, or declare it better than another in a peer group just because it may have a richer, more forceful personality. Wine observed and critiqued in isolation (i.e. without food) is indeed not how it is meant to be enjoyed. It is an argument shared by detractors of brown bag tasting today.

However, I maintain that the brown bag exercise is a worthwhile one. The brown bag enables objectivity. Whatever pre-conceived notions you may have of a region, a grape varietal, a producer, or an importer, disappear and enable you to judge a wine on its own merits. Also, the format of most brown bag tastings often times enable you to judge a wine amongst its peers. By tasting similar wines in a focused way, you invariably learn more about what makes a region, producer, or vintage distinctive. Then again, the value of a brown bag tasting ultimately depends on the care with which one selects the wines, as well as the approach and observations of the participants.

There are plenty of groups that go for the tried and true, WSET inspired groupings of wines, perhaps combined with a degree of hype for certain vintages. For example, 2007 Chateauneuf du Pape, 2008 Burgundies, 2007 Napa cabernet. I have a co-worker who has participated in such tastings with his group every month for years now. And that's fine. Not for me, but that's why I'm in a group that does brown bag tasting a bit more off the beaten path: two flights of Puffeney, zinfandel from the 80's and early 90's, currently available Alsatian wines, and most recently, the lachrima flight as well as some grignolino, freisa, gattinara and 02 Coppo Chardonnay.

After we taste, we eat. Well. Last night it was lasagna, which went very nicely with a 2006 Luciano Landi "Gaviligiano" Lachrima di Morro d'Alba.

Old, really old wines tasted recently

One of the little perks of working somewhere that purchases private cellars is that - you guessed it - occasionally you have the good fortune to taste what was in those private cellars.

We'll work backwards here and start from the mid 20th century, closing out with a couple of young, spritely madeiras from the 19th.


1954 Louis Martini Mountain Zinfandel Private Reserve

Simple, developed, spicy zin that is somehow still hanging in there. Interesting in the context of it being old wine that's still palatable and for the fact that the fruit hasn't completely faded rather than for it being truly interesting wine.

1942 Louis Martini Mountain Zinfandel Private Reserve

This has attained a rancio quality that overwhelms everything else. No longer drinkable.

1956 Louis Martini Cabernet Sauvignon Private Reserve

Nasty and sweaty, like used football or lacrosse pads. Not recommended. Unless used sweaty pads is what you're into in a glass of red wine.

1951 Louis Martini Cabernet Sauvignon Private Reserve

Best of the group, without a doubt. This had the interplay of sweet dark fruit and savory complexity that marks the best of aged California wine.

Those were interesting, but now for the real treats of last week. I have no idea which house these madeiras are from, as the labels are so worn and there are no clues that I could pick up anywhere.

1880 Madeira

I do not even know the grape varietal(s) here, though I would suspect that it is a single varietal as any vintage Madeira I have seen, either in person or listed somewhere, comes from a single varietal. Given the viscosity, sweetness level and intense spiciness of the wine, I'd guess that this was Malmsey. Rich, sweet, intense, and hella spicy. As if it were clove infused. But there was more than enough acidity to offset the other flavors and hold the wine together. A special bottle of wine.

Historical happenings in 1880 (courtesy of Wikipedia):

- In Menlo Park, New Jersey, Thomas Edison performs the first test of his electric railway.
- The University of Southern California opens its doors to 53 students and 10 faculty
- Wabash, Indiana becomes the first electrically lit city in the world.

1842 Terrantez

I love the acidity in vintage Madeira. When combined with the intensity and depth of flavors you get in these fortified wines, what you've got is something truly unique. I would argue that good vintage Madeira makes even well respected vintage port look terribly boring and one note by comparison. But that's like, just my opinion, man. Anyway, getting back to this 1842 terrantez. It was phenomenally fresh, loaded with complex aged flavors, juicy yet cutting acidity, and the velvety texture you'd expect with the 100+ years of bottle age.

Historical notes from 1842 (courtesy of brainyhistory):

- 1st illustrated weekly magazine in U.S. publishes 1st issue, New York City
- Ether was used as an anaesthetic for 1st time by Dr. Crawford Long
- Great Britain and China sign Treaty of Nanking, ends Opium war
- Seminole War ends; Indians removed from Florida to Oklahoma

If you are in SF, cuidado!

Laureano Serres is in town....

I have to apologize for a complete and utterly lazy go of it lately. I plan on locking myself in my room, with nothing but a wine glass, a few bottles of wine, and my computer, tonight and tomorrow night, writing some new posts for next week.

Happy fin de semana.

Thursday HALL & OATES

My girlfriend recently turned 30. To celebrate, last weekend we had a bunch of people over, ate carnitas tacos, hung out with lots of great folks and danced. While we had one professional DJ in the house to spin late period disco and electro, there was also our friend Morgan and me spinning dirty south hip-hop and completely random shit, respectively. The best moment of my set, next to a pretty flawless and, in yacht rock terminology, "smooth" transition from Bowie's "Golden Years" to Hall & Oates' "I can't go for that (no can do)," was definitely when I played the classic tune below. If you DJ and really want to rock a crowd, this is just one of those jams you should strongly consider throwing on. At least if you occasionally roll with the type of crowd I do. And if you do, I apologize....