Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts
Showing posts with label wine. Show all posts

Two Bottles of 1959 Latour Wasted on Charlie Sheen

Monday, November 1, 2010

A few years ago, I wrote an article about the fabulous wine cellar holdings at Daniel, the posh Upper East Side restaurant. At one point during my interview with then-sommelier Philip Marchal, he lifted up a $7,800 bottle of 1961 Latour and showed it to me. I remember wondering what sort of person ordered such a pricey item.

Now I know. Charlie Sheen.

The addled actor continued his long and glorious history of alcohol and drug abuse during a dinner at Daniel last week. I'm not so upset that he snorted cocaine in the bathroom, or that he tried to use the same facility as an impromptu bedroom. But did the restaurant have to sell him two bottles of the exceedingly rare Grand Vin de Chateau Latour 1959, at $5,900 a pop? Pictures shown the actor holding the bottle by the neck. No doubt he slugged it back like a bottle of Thunderbird.

Back during my interview, I was told Mr. Boulud has a special relationship with the owner of Latour, Francois Pinault. He is a frequent guest at Daniel and a fan of the chef. Thus, diners with the wherewithal can choose from among the otherwise hard-to-find '09, '59, and '70 Latour vintages. What a waste.

Four Whites From Friuli and One Red From Calabria

Thursday, October 28, 2010
Italian vintner Venica & Venica's covers Italy's boot from tongue to instep.

While most of its bottlings are white from the Collio section of Friuli, in the northeast corner of Italy, near the Slovenia border, it also produces a beguiling red from Calabria. The winemaker Giampaolo Venica recently hosted a tasting of his line on the outside patio of The Modern restaurant, where a couple of his wines are regularly poured by sommelier Belinda Chang.

Venica & Venica wines are grown on 28 hectares over seven hills in Collio that boast, according to Giampaolo, 55 different micro-climates.
Both Chang and Giampaolo told me that the winery holds by the "Ronco Del Cero" Sauvignon Blanc as its best, and signature, wine. Which I (and Chang) found somewhat odd, since another Sauvignon Blanc, "Ronco Delle Mele," was the real stunner. An amazingly tropical trip of tart orange, lime, lemon, resting on a bed of chalky minerality and wrapped in bracing acidity, it drank like a superior New Zealand S.B. (In a blind tasting, I would have sworn it came from that country.) Cero was in the same ballpark, but seemed less stunning, simpler, less bright than the Cero. I would be totally happy with the Cero at any meal—until presented with the Mele. At which point I would switch.

Of the other whites poured, the Friulano was full, with tangerine and lime flavors; and the Pinot Grigio "Jesura" was well above the average PG from almost anywhere else in northwest Italy. But the most interesting wine on the table was arguably the Terre di Balbia "Balbium" 2008. This is V&V's only bottling from Calabria, made from 20-year-old vines of the native varietal Magliocco. Magliocco was once widely planted in southern Italy, but is almost extinct today. Bottled after a year in old casks, Balbium is 14.5% alcohol, but tasted much lighter. It has a rich, musky nose. Medium-bodied and wonderfully drinkable, it tastes of plum, dust and cherry, the texture somewhere between silky and sandy. A wonderful food wine, I'm guessing.


The Sipping News

Wednesday, October 27, 2010

New York cocktails crowd the $20 mark. While this is true at some new places, like the Lambs Club, the article—typical for the sensationalistic Post—is misleading. At most of the bars they mention (PDT, Pegu Club, Milk & Honey, etc.), the average price is still around $14. However, that is an increase from the $13 price tag that was the norm a year ago. [NY Post]

It also now costs more to drink on the Long Island Railroad. [Gothamist]

Another boast from the Post: Sherry is popular again. I wish it were so. [NY Post]

West Village cocktail joint Little Branch will be adding a cafe upstairs (aka street level). [The Villager, via Eater]

Jimmy, a new rooftop cocktail bar in the James Hotel, has opened in SoHo. This, unfortunately, is one of those places that offers $18 cocktails. Since it's partly founded by Hotel Griffou's Johnny Swet and Larry Poston, whose cocktails I've tasted at Griffou, I'm not sure the price is warranted. But I will reserve judgment until I try them. [Eater]

Japanese wineries (huh?) are trying to turn table grape Koshu into world-class wine. [Times]

A Little 21-Year-Old Birthday Riesling

Tuesday, September 21, 2010

About a week ago, the day after my birthday, I was preparing dinner and thinking, quite selfishly, that not enough had been done to celebrate my natal day. So I walked back to my teeny "cellar" and looked over the selections, seeing if one was ripe for the plucking. I had been worried about a 1989 Bert Simon riesling for a number of months. Wines from Simon from that year were particularly praised. I didn't want it to go south and start to fade, all because I hesitated in breaking it open. A recent call to the store where I bought it, Crush, assured me the wine, a Serrig Wurtzberg Auslese, was probably at its peak, and well worth sacrificing. So in the fridge it went to chill.

I wish I had more than one of those Simon '89s. Was a delish treat from top to bottom it was. And believe me, I drank it top to bottom in one evening. It wasn't hard. The alcohol was only 10%. But beyond that, the flavor made it impossible to put down. Honey, ripe orange and tangerine and clementine, orange blossoms, more honey, a little lick of diesel at the end, and a dusty edging of slate. And an afterthought of apple pie.

The firm structure and good acidity all served to spotlight those wonderful fruit flavors. There was no flabbiness to the wine. It was in its prime. Fresh. The color alone was a pleasure: a sunny yellow-tangerine hue.

I went to Crush the following week in hopes of finding another bottle. No dice. But I did pick up four other rieslings to lay down and take the Simon's place. Future birthdays must be thought of.

The Sipping News


Cocktails boasting lower alcohol contents are now trendy, sez the San Francisco Chronicle. If true, I am in favor of this trend. [SFC]

Jason Wilson of the Washington Post likes the Alaska cocktail, which seems to be experiencing a little revival lately. Me, I've never taken to this particular concoction. [WP]

Burgundy man Daniel Johnnes has begun to import Bordeaux. [Dr. Vino]

Eric Asimov writes about the wonderful winemaker Josko Gravner, master of weird aged white wines, loved by some, puzzled over by many. [NYT]

Bartenders on the Move: Noted mixologist Toby Cecchini is no longer putting in Friday shifts at Red Hook's Fort Defiance.

The Sipping News

Friday, September 3, 2010

An argument in favor of bartender copywriting cocktails and techniques as intellectual property, which may be one of the most unenforceable ideas I've ever heard of. Thankfully, legally, this is impossible. I've always thought the cocktail world's willingness to share recipes and idea was always one of its most likable and noble aspect. [The Atlantic]

There seem to have been a rash of high profile bartender departures in recent months. The latest include Owen Westman, who will leave the San Francisco bar Rickhouse to open his own place all the way over in Melbourne. Westman, who was born in Melbourne,  couldn't say where the bar is or what its name will be (details are still being finalized). But the cocktail list will draw on his experience at Bourbon & Branch, Rickhouse and other bars he's visited throughout the world. (Rickhouse recently lost Erick Castro to Pernod.) He calls Melbourne "by far the most cocktail and food forward city in Australia." Meanwhile,  Nico de Soto is leaving Dram in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, to go to London to work at a London branch of Paris' Experimental Cocktail Club.

Toward a lighter, and greener, Champagne bottle. [NY Times]

A lengthy piece on the legendary Mai-Kai in Fort Lauderdale. [Wine Enthusiast]

"Alcohol is not a flavor," says John Ragan, sommelier at Eleven Madison Park. Agreed! [Grub Street]

Talking Turkey

Tuesday, June 8, 2010

Turkish wine. Name a winemaker.

If you said Kavaklidere, aside from your pronunciation skills being highly advanced, you are a sharp observer of the Turkish wine scene here in the U.S. Of course, that doesn't take much study, because the wines of only one Turkish winemaker currently make it into America: Kavaklidere.

Kavaklidere is also the largest winery in Turkey, with 550 hectares in land holdings throughout Anatolia in five different regions: Ankara, Eastern Anatolia, Thrace, Aegean and Central Anatolia. Along with rival winemaker Doluca, they rule the industry. They produce a dizzying array of bottlings, using many different grapes, both native and, increasingly, international. Their output is eight million liters a years, 80% of which is consumed in Turkey. Still, with all its advantages, Kavaklidere's wines are little known in this country. Basically, unknown, outside Turkish restaurants. (France imports quite a bit of Turkish wines.)

Recently, Kavaklidere endeavored to become slightly better known in the U.S. by showing off some of their wines at Le Cirque. Winery owner Ali Başman himself, a dignified, fit man, was there to make the case for his wines. One could sense his pride in his offerings, while also reading on his face the difficulty of the road in front of him. In this difficult economic climate, when so many good wines sit on the shelf gathering dust, when wonderful Greek wines are still waiting to be noticed by the public, what chance do Turkish wines have? 

The story. Kavaklidere was founded in 1929, by Ali's father's sister's husband, Cenap And. (Got that?) The And union produced no offspring, so Ali's father, Mehmet Başman, eventually took over, later handing control over to his son. In 1993, the company—like many vintners across the world around that time—decided to up the quality of the wines, and show off indigenous Turkish grapes, while still cultivated international grapes to see what they could do. Turkey has more than 600 varietals of its own, among them the white Narince and the red Öküzgözü. (And you thought Greek grapes were hard to pronounce.)

We tasted six wines, beginning with the Egeo Rose 2009, which was made of Cal Karasi, Syrah and Grenache. Cal Karasi is used mainly for roses in Turkey. The Egeo was one of the better wines of the evening, tasting of cherry, chalk, mineral, almonds and green notes. Quite unusual. A 2006 Sauvignon Blanc followed. Seeing no oak, and aged on its lees for 15 months, it was full and earthy, wide with a bitter edge. The 2007 and 2008 vintages, it was explained, were lost to the cold.

The Prestige Narince 2007 was 100% Narince, 50% aged in new oak, 50% in old oak, so I was able to zone in on the qualities of the grapes. Those qualities? Well, fresh. A very fresh wine, for one registering at a beefy 14% alcohol. Otherwise, the usual cirtrus, apple, pear and vanilla you might expect in a white grape you're unfamiliar with.

The Pendore Öküzgözü 2008, hailing from the northeast corner of Turkey, was light and watery in color and turned out to be light and watery on the palate as well, going a bit flat as it went on. However, its very lightness made it ideal for food. The next red was the Prestige Kalecik Karasi 2005. The Turks think of this grape as their Pinot Noir, and it is one of their best sellers. There is a slight resemblance there to the finicky French grape, but just slight. It's delicate, tasting of red fruit and cocoa. The Prestige Boğazkere 2008, finally, was very dry, tasting of dried cherries and other dried fruits.

The evening ended with a most unique sweet wine, call Turkey's first and only fortified wine. Tatli Sert Narince is made with the Narince grape using the Port wine method, in which fermentation is interrupted by the addition of grape alcohol. It is then aged for seven years in barrel. The result tastes of rhubarb, strawberry and stones, and dries out your mouth almost immediately. Quite unlike any sweet wine I've had. It's a rare dessert wine that should be taken with food. The Kavaklidere crew was very anxious as to whether they should import it. I think they should.

George DuBoeuf Finds His Vintage of a Lifetime

Sunday, June 6, 2010

When George DuBoeuf, de facto king of Beaujolais, says he's found his Beaujolais vintage of a lifetime, you tend to listen, even if you are a bit skeptical. After all, he can only get away with saying such a thing once. And who knows more Beaujolais vintages, and knows them intimately, than this eminence grise of the Gamay grape?

Monsieur DuBoeuf and his son Franck said the 2009 vintage was the sunniest in long memory, resulting in very mature grapes upon harvest. Beaujolais Villages, in particular, exceeded their expectations, which a darker-than-usual hue to the wines.



The house of DuBoeuf gave a press preview of their crus recently at ABC Kitchen, and George may be on to something. I have no direct knowledge of all the Beaujolais vintages of the past 50 years, as he does (no old or rich enough), but there's lots to recommend in the 2009s. The Village doesn't objectively blow me away, but it's fine drinking, and, for $9.99, is excellent drinking.

The Fleuries, in particular, impressed me. Fleurie is a more northerly appellation and is known for it's perfumed, silky quality. The DuBoeuf Fleurie had that going on without a doubt. A lovely violet-scented nose. It was tart, tight, more acidic than the other crus, and had a light, fruity, spicy, charcoal taste. As it opened up, however, it grew magnificent. I preferred the Fleurie Domaine de Quarte Vents less. It had a wonderful barnyard nose and was fuller, but had less depth, perhaps because it was remarkably light on the tannins.

I also like the Morgans. Typically for the appellation, it has a way to go before it flowers and opens. But there's a lot of promise there, in both the Domaine de la Chaponne and the Domaine Jean Decombes, particularly the latter, with its restrained character of tart cherry, current and ash.

I suspect that red-wine devotees who usually turn up their nose at light-bodied Beaujolais will find something appealing in these wines.

Wine Bar Tangled Vine Adds Brunch Cocktail List

Friday, May 28, 2010


Tangle Vine, the new Upper West Side wine bar focusing on biodynamic, organic and sustainable wines, has inaugurated a Saturday and Sunday brunch and, with it, a brunch cocktail menu. It features the usual Bloody Mar, Mimosa and Bellini spins, but also a Pera Espumosa, made of Cava, Kabinett Riesling, Brandy, pear nectar, fresh cinnamon; and El Alba, made of Francois Mantand sparkling wine, fresh squeezed grapefruit juice, and Gus cranberry lime soda. The drinks will probably not expand to evenings in order to keep the focus on wine. 

On the wine list, meanwhile, Tangled Vine has added a quintet of roses for the spring, as well as an orange wine (a Savagnin from Jura), all by the glass. I like that the wine list has a permanent category called Orange Wine—wines mainly from Jura and Friuli. Also, that the separate their Rieslings into "Dry" and "Sweet" categories, so as to alleviate some of the confusion about those great wines. The Gamay category—as opposed to a Beaujolais section—is also an astute twist.
 
Here's the cocktails list:

Organic Smoked Bloody Mary $11
Crop Harvest Organic Tomato Vodka, Organic Tomato Juice, Victoria’s secret smoked blend, burnt tomato and eggplant

Fresh Mimosa $9
Francois Mantand sparkling wine, fresh squeezed orange juice

Mint Peach Bellini $9
Prosecco, peach nectar, fresh mint

Pera Espumosa $10
Cava, Kabinett Riesling, Brandy, pear nectar, fresh cinnamon

El Alba $9
Francois Mantand sparkling wine, fresh squeezed grapefruit juice, Gus cranberry lime

Review: Lini 910 Lambrusco Bianco

Monday, May 24, 2010
Every now and then, a wine seller will try to push a Lambrusco on me. I'll be surprised to see a bottle on the shelf and ask something like "Lambrusco? Really?" And the store owner will go into some tap dance of "Yeah, I know, most of them are so insipid. But not this one! This is a really good Lambrusco, the way the wine can be. I wouldn't have it in my store if I didn't think so."

And, being fairly gullible, and always fond of an unlikely buy, I'll take one home. Then I open it, drink it and think, "Lambrusco. Eh." It's fizzy, it's simple, it goes with food, it's uninteresting. Leave it in Emilia Romagna.

Well, I got talked into a Lambrusco again last week, this time at Dry Dock, the new Red Hook, Brooklyn, wine store that is going a long way toward filling up the hole left by LeNell's. I was intrigued because the store had a Bianco, Rose and Rosse Lambrusco, all by the same producer, Lini 910. (The white and rose are achieved by having little contact with the skins of the grape which, in this case, is actually Pinot Nero.) The owner who talked me into it also confessed she loved the white best, red second and rose not so much. I like a bit of honesty in my sales pitch.

So I took the white home and, for once, didn't regret it. This wine is easily the best Lambrusco I've ever had, with an unlikely complexity that robs the wine not a whit of its refreshing sparkle. There are fruit and herbal notes and a slight oxidized character. The bottle barely lasted through dinner. Lini 910 is a 100-year-old vintner, having been founded in 1910. The producer is Alicia Lini, and she also makes a white version called metodo classical, which is bottle fermented like Champagne. Now I'm curious about the Rosso and Rose.


All Greek to Me

Monday, May 10, 2010


To appreciate Greek wines, you have to eat them with food. Preferably, good food.

Back in March, I went to a wine tasting for the importer VOS selections, and tasted through their fairly extensive line of Greek wines. I thought, "Good." But I wasn't all that excited. I've gone through this before. I'm a fan of good Greek wines. I think they present excellent value, as well a sense of taste adventure, given the innumerable native and obscure varietals in Greece. But I was first won over to Greek wines by buying cheap bottles and then having them over dinner. When I went to Greek wine tastings, where no food was served, I wasn't as wowed. These wines are made for food, and somehow don't show as well when they're on their own.



I discovered this fact anew at a lovely lunch at Greenwich Village's newly reopened Annisa. The meal was accompanied by ten various Greek wines, from sparkling to dry to sweet. A couple roses, an Agiorgitiko from Semeli and a Xynomavro from Kir-Yianni, went beautifully with a warm salad of Beluga lentils and bulghur. A nicely acidic Kir-Yianni white made from the Roditis grape was a perfect match for cutting through grilled halibut and glazed radish. And a trio of reds—a Mandilaria-Monemvasia blend, an Agiorgitiko and a Xynomavro-Syrah-Merlot blend—all lent themselves to veal tenderloin and sweetbread.

These wines do not steal focus. Rather, they focus your attention on the meal, insinuating themselves in between the bites. An exception might be the Mantinia Moschofilero from Tseleopos. Cyprus-born Yiannis Tselepos is acknowledged as having brought the great white varietal Moschofilero back to the attention of the wider world, and produces one of the benchmark versions of the grape, having experimented with it for years. The Mantinia is a rich wine—for Greek wines, that is—which can demand your attention sans food.

Another wine that easily stood alone: a sparkling Moschofilero from Tselepos that used the methode traditionelle. VOS says this is the only such sparkling wine being made in Greece today.

Though Greek wines have been inching up in popularity in recent years, they're still largely unknown to drinkers outside the big cities. Even in New York, you'll be hard pressed to find more than one or two on  wine lists outside the major Greek restaurants. (A sommelier at Jean-Georges mentioned to me that he had one on his list.) Meanwhile, the prices of Greek wines have been inching up slowly as word of their quality has caught on. When I first started drinking them, I could get a good one for $10 or $12. Now, I'll have to shell out $15 or more. That's still pretty cheap. I just hope the public catches on before the better Greeks break the $20 ceiling.

The Friuli Wines of American

Sunday, May 9, 2010

I wrote a small item for Tasting Table last week about a tight group of American winemakers with whom I share a passion for the white wines of Friuli. There are only four that I know of in the U.S.—Abe Schoener, George Vare, Christopher Tracy and Steve Matthiasson—so it wasn't difficult to become acquainted with them and their wines. These wines are not for the novice drinker. They challenge you and make you think more than relax. What else can you expect from a white wine that looks orange and tastes like a red?

As Matthiasson pointed out (and I was not able to fit into a 200-word article), there are differing schools of thought among Friuli winemaker. The whites that spend a lot of time on the lees, or get buried in the ground in amphoras—think the wines of Gravner and Radikon—get the most attention. How could they not? They're bruisers, yeasty and tannic and provocative. But there's another, subtler school of white, strongly mineral but crisp and refreshing, that are best represented there by Schiopetto and Villa Russiz, and over here by Matthiasson Napa Valley White.

Of the wines I list below I most strongly recommend the Channing Daughters Rosato. Unfortunately, it seems to already be sold out.

Tough Love
A small-but-fierce group of winemakers embraces northern Italy
It's easy to embrace the popular kids.
In the wine world, they're well-known regions like Bordeaux and Burgundy, which have plenty of American winemakers crafting bottles in their likeness.
But for the Friuli-Venezia Giulia region in northeast Italy--known for its idiosyncratic, niche pours--acolytes are harder to come by.
Among its small-but-vociferous ranks are California vintners George Vare, Abe Schoener and Steve Matthiasson, who discovered Friuli's white wines on a trip together in 2005. Since then, the trio has experimented with native Friulian varietals and unorthodox aging methods, which have yielded robust, yeasty white wines. They are exceptional in their eccentricities.
Christopher Tracy, winemaker for Bridgehampton's Channing Daughters, is another Friuli fanatic. He's fingered Long Island's climate and soil as ideal for the production of Vino da Meditazione, a thickish, cerebral wine that has been called the best white offering in America.
Sometimes the difficult ones come out the best. Here are three bottles that make for a good introduction to Friuli, American-style:
2009 Channing Daughters Rosato di Refosco ($19) A rare and delicious rosé, this bottle is light and creamy with hints of almonds and strawberries (click to buy online).
2008 Matthiasson Napa Valley White ($32) Dominated by Sauvignon Blanc and Ribolla Gialla, this flinty, crisp wine smacks of lemon, pear and light stone fruits (click to buy online).
2008 Scholium Project The Prince in His Cave ($43) Abe Schoener's flagship bottle is a crash course in on-the-lees orange wine: tangy, spicy, yeasty and a feast for those with an adventurous palate (click to buy online).

Drinking in Brooklyn

Wednesday, May 5, 2010

I spent a good deal of the early part of the year talking to anyone and everyone who has anything to do with the cocktail, beer and coffee scenes in Brooklyn. The canvasing was in service of a feature on the Brooklyn drinking scene for Imbibe magazine. It wasn't difficult to research; a Brooklynite for 16 years, I had been doing casual, unscripted research for such a survey two or three years by simply paying calls on the new Brooklyn bars and cafe as they opened in waves in 2008 and 2009. And most of the people I interviewed for the piece I had already come to know. Nothing quite as pleasurable as doing an in-depth piece on your own hometown.

Here's the article. There are also lists of places to go for  cocktails, coffee, beer and wine (yes, wine does get a mention in the piece, though not a thorough going over, thank God—adding that aspect to the article might have killed me), all put together by yours truly. But I won't print those here. I have to leave some reason to go out and buy the mag.


A SCENE GROWS IN BROOKLYN

By Robert Simonson

IN THE LATE 19th CENTURY, BROOKLYN WAS A GLORIOUS PLACE TO DRINK. The borough (then a full-fledged city in its own right) boasted 48 breweries and lent its name to The Brooklyn, one of the country’s most popular cocktails at the time. Two of America’s largest coffee roasters of the area—R. Buckle Brothers and the A & P company—called Brooklyn home, and the venerable, gas-lit Gage & Tollner restaurant on Fulton Street served coffee so strong, some customers asked for it to be diluted.

Then came Prohibition, the Depression, high taxes and rising labor costs. The Breweries—Trommer’s, Piels, Rheingold—closed one by one. The last, Schaefer, turned off its Brooklyn taps in 1976. The Brooklyn Cocktail died from memory as an essential ingredient, Amer Picon, fell into obscurity. Gage & Tollner closed, its landmark interior eventually invaded by TGI Friday’s and then Arby’s.

In the last decade, however, craft breweries, cocktail lounges and coffee bars have been cropping up from Greenpoint to Bushwick. The shift took root in the ’90s, when New Yorkers crossed the East River in droves to escape rising rents and encroaching homogenization bred by Manhattan’s bear hug of chain stores and luxury condos. Some of those transplants became entrepreneurs, opening bars and cafés over the years to slake the thirsts of the new locals. That trend has steadily gained steam, and today Brooklynites have reclaimed one of the most enviable drink cultures in the country.



How Brooklyn Got its Brew Back 


"You can go anywhere in Brooklyn and get a great beer,” says Garrett Oliver, the poised yet cheerful Brooklyn Brewery brewmaster, who could be considered the godfather of Brooklyn’s beer renaissance. “Fifteen years ago that wasn’t true.”

Brooklyn Brewery, founded in 1987 by reporter Steve Hindy and banker Tom Potter, can take a lot of credit for changing the borough’s there-but-for-the-grace-of-Manhattan-go-I reputation. Suddenly, something was made in Brooklyn, and it was really good! Now, it’s difficult to find a bar in the borough that doesn’t serve locally made beers—and not just dedicated beer bars like Park Slope’s epicurean Beer Table, Carroll Gardens’ rustic Bar Great Harry or Greenpoint’s fun-loving The Diamond Bar. You can also find them at the typical corner dive. “People in this neighborhood would never eat at Burger King, but they had no problem drinking cans of PBR,” says Joe Carroll, owner of Williamsburg’s seven-year-old Spuyten Duyvil, which boasts a mouth-watering array of international craft beers. “I think that’s changed. They know good beer now and drink good beer.”

The second wave of Brooklyn’s craft-brewing renaissance began with the 2004 arrival of Sixpoint. Owner and Wisconsinite Shane Welch didn’t want to be tethered to the standard brew-and-bottle formula when coming up with a business plan for his brewery. “Why not make a whole bunch of beers and let people enjoy them?” he asked himself. The trouble was there are only a few places in the country where a brewery can support itself on draught alone. Welch picked up and moved to Red Hook, rightly guessing that Brooklyn was one of them. He set up business in a tight space behind a couple of huge, green, bay doors on lonely Van Dyne Street. Now in its sixth year, Sixpoint has produced 63 different beers and counting, including its first and most familiar, Brownstone Ale, and dozens of one-offs. The beers are unfiltered and known to be surprisingly complex yet approachable, from the hoppy IPA Bengali Tiger and the bracingly sharp Righteous Rye to the toasty, dense Brownstone, which is made from a blend of 12 different malts.

Sixpoint’s facility is tiny, so it contracts with Clinton Hill’s Green Point Beerworks to produce some of its beers. As a testament to the partnership and collaboration that goes on among Brooklyn’s entrepreneurs, Green Point happens to be the base of operations of Kelly Taylor, the brewmaster at Kelso—the third entry in Brooklyn’s triumvirate of micro-breweries. Two years after Taylor began working for Heartland Brewery in 2000, the brewpub chain—the most prominent of the Manhattan brewpubs that sprang up in the 1990s—decided to set up Green Point to help defray some of its costs. They put Taylor in charge.

“I was given carte blanche to build this place,” he says. When some tanks sat idle, Taylor asked to take up the slack by creating his own line of beers, starting in 2006 with Kelso Nut Brown Lager, his flagship beer. The brewery frequently focuses on German-style beers—producing a classic, European-style Pilsner and St. Gowanus, a blend of Belgian-style golden ale and American-style pale ale—plus an array of seasonal brews.

These distinctive Brooklyn-born brews are perfectly matched by Brooklyn’s highly individualized beer dens. The Diamond Bar, owned by the affable Dave Pollack (a former Spuyten Duyvil bartender), is an oasis on a darkened Greenpoint block, specializing in session beers, shuffleboard and quoits (a twist on horseshoes). It typically gets its cask-conditioned ale from Brooklyn Brewery, just six blocks away. Similarly, Carroll Gardens’ dog-friendly Bar Great Harry, an ordinary-looking bar with an extraordinary beer selection, often has multiple draught lines of nearby Sixpoint. “Brooklyn’s got a lot of love for Sixpoint,” says owner Mike Wiley. “It’s an easy beer to sell.”

Clearly, there’s a lot of local pride for home-grown brews. Williamsburg’s Barcade, which marries a two-dozen strong draught line-up with an array of vintage arcade games, holds events like “Brooklyn Beer Night” and “Sixpoint Beer Night.” Bierkraft, a Park Slope beer store and grocery, regularly carries Kelso and Sixpoint beer for growler refills. And Kelso may have pulled off the savviest placement trick in the borough, getting the staid, 123-year-old Brooklyn steak house Peter Luger to go local and put his Nut Brown Lager on tap. “We let them call it Peter Luger Lager,” laughs Taylor.

A New Class of Cocktails 

With the ongoing migration of New Yorkers over the East River bridges, it was only a matter of time before the new Brooklynites would start looking for cocktails on par with those they’d enjoyed in Manhattan. Quietly forcing the issue was the fact that many of Manhattan’s best bartenders and cocktail lounge owners actually lived in Brooklyn: Mayahuel’s Phil Ward; Summit Bar’s Greg Seider; Death & Co.’s Brian Miller and Joaquim Simo; Pegu Club’s St. John Frizell; and Flatiron Lounge owner Julie Reiner.

So the 21st-century dawn of such landmark Manhattan cocktail spots as Milk & Honey, PDT and Little Branch was quickly followed by the 2008-2009 deluge of high-end Brooklyn bars. In 2008, Reiner opened Clover Club in Cobble Hill, a sepia-hued picture-postcard of the dark-wood, upholstered, Victorian era. A year later, Frizell opened his cozy Fort Defiance in Red Hook, outfitted with a patchwork of memorabilia from places where he has either lived or visited, such as New Orleans and South America, and named after a Revolutionary War citadel that once stood nearby.

But Fort Defiance and Clover Club aren’t the only bars with heavyweights behind them. Cocktail consultants Tad Carducci and Paul Tanguay of The Tippling Bros. created the opening cocktail menu at Williamsburg’s Bar Celona, whose bar is managed by Clif Travers, formerly of Om in Cambridge, Massachusetts, and Clover Club. Sasha Petraske, considered one of the forces behind New York’s craft cocktail movement, designed the menu at Kathryn Weatherup’s eponymous Weather Up in Prospect Heights, and former U.K. bartender of the year Charlotte Voisey consulted at The Hideout in Fort Greene.

Accordingly, the cocktail menus at these bars are complex and sophisticated, offering a mix of classics and new creations. Clover Club’s menu, for instance, is divided into sections such as “Bucks & Mules” and “The Work of Charles Baker” (the mid-20th-century cocktail writer and creator). Bar Celona riffs on the simple Gin & Tonic, offering several subtle variations. And Prime Meats, a quasi-Germanic restaurant that opened in Carroll Gardens in early 2009, deploys ingredients like Fernet Branca and unaged corn whiskey and makes homemade pear bitters with fruit from a tree in the restaurant’s backyard.

But as writer Thomas Wolfe famously said, “Only the dead know Brooklyn.” The borough and its residents are so various it would take a lifetime to really know them. Thus, what works on Brooklyn’s well-trafficked Smith Street—a once-dangerous strip that’s now chockablock with the likes of Clover Club, JakeWalk and the swank whiskey haven Char No 4.—might not fly in warehouse-laden Red Hook. “We’re prone to deal with a different clientele,” says Frizell. “If you talk to people who go to PDT or Pegu Club, 90 percent of the customers understand the whole cocktail renaissance. In [parts of] Brooklyn, you have to be ready for the people who have no idea what’s going on.” Consequently, Frizell keeps his cocktail menu “non-confrontational,” leading off with well-known classics like the Manhattan, as well as new creations like the Colonial Cooler, made with gin, two kinds of sweet vermouth, lemon juice and Cointreau.

It’s all part of what keeps Brooklyn’s spirit so down to earth. While the first wave of the borough’s new cocktail dens brought places like The Hideout, which took cues from Manhattan with a limited-seating, no-signage, speakeasy feel, a more open-door scene has since prevailed. Frizell painted “Fort Defiance” in large letters on the outside wall of his convivial corner saloon-café, while the spacious Clover Club greets the street with a clear-glass facade and a big illuminated sign. “Everything I’ve ever done has been accessible,” says Reiner. “Speakeasy has never been my shtick.”

The Coffee Comeback

It’s that no-nonsense attitude that drew Duane Sorenson, owner of Portland, Oregon’s vaunted Stumptown Coffee, to set up shop in Brooklyn. “Brooklyn and Portland, to me, are similar in many ways,” says the scruffy 38-year-old. “I’m drinking beer with people who raise bees on their roof. They’re pickling in their kitchens.”

Sorenson was barely a day on Brooklyn soil when a friend took him to a party at the popular Carroll Gardens eatery Frankies Spuntino, run by Frank Falcinelli and Frank Costronovo, two laser-intense local food moguls known as “The Franks.” The Franks were already fans of Stumptown, and they took to Sorenson immediately. “The next day, they showed me where my apartment was going to be,” Sorenson says. “They showed me where I was going to roast coffee. It happened like that.” The Franks hold the lease with Sorenson to the roastery, and they plan to open a combination café and cocktail bar in the front by mid-2010.

Sorenson’s experience is almost symbolic of Brooklyn’s coffee scene in general. While the borough has long been home to several large wholesale roasters, such as Gillies Coffee, at the retail level, coffee was more of an afterthought. Then, around 2007, cafés started sprouting up across Brooklyn, staffed with professionally trained baristas and sourcing beans from the country’s best-known artisan roasters. “It’s rapidly evolving from bodega-grade to quality-focused,” says Kevin Cuddeback, CEO of Gimme! Coffee, a roaster/retailer with locations in Brooklyn, Manhattan and Upstate New York. “Lust for great coffee continues to spread with every new shop that opens. I think there’s tremendous potential for Brooklyn to become known for having a loud heartbeat in modern café society.”

Gary Farrell Returns to Russian River Valley

Wednesday, April 28, 2010

For years there, Gary Ferrell was once of the golden names in Russian River Valley pinot noir, making juicy, sought-after wines prized by collectors and those fond of Parker-astic, big-ticket reds. Then he sold he winery in 2004 and cleared out.

Now he has returned with Alysian, his new "back to his roots" wine. Again, his stomping ground is the Russian River Valley, and again he's producing pinots. He's just released his initial 2007 vintage of Alysian, including two pinots. If Ferrell is going back to his roots, they dig into artistic ground remarkably similar to what he left behind at his big commercial winery. In other words, fans of the Farrell style won't be disappointed. The wines are alcoholic, fruity, fragrant and juice, the single-vineyard Floodgate Pinot Noir 2007 (only 440 cases) slightly more restrained than the sweet, big-boned Russian River Pinot Noir 2007. The Chardonnay was not available for tasting at the event I attended, but, at 14.1%, and 10 months in new and used French oak barrels, I wouldn't expect a lot of subtlety.

A Barolo From Sicily

Wednesday, April 21, 2010

One of the greatest glasses I downed at the recent Polaner tasting was the Etna Rosso from Calabretta.

I was directed to the table excitedly by a Polaner operative. It was indeed an unheralded destination place. People were fainting at that table from sheer pleasure. They couldn't get over the power and elegance of the Sicilian red being poured. People expect big, earthy devils from that hot, rocky island. But this was medium-bodied, and drank like a Barolo. It was heady, but elegant—smoky, dusk, full of cherry and plus. And a beautiful finish. What's going on here?

First of all, you've probably never heard of the two native varietals being blended here: Nerello Mascalese and Nerello Cappuccio. They're usually blended with their more famous brother, Nero d'Avola. But they should think of getting their own press agent, if this wine is an example of what they have to offer. The particular grapes that go into this bottle are from vines 70-80 years old, mostly ungrafted, and grow at a high elevation, where the temperatures fluctuate greatly. The wines are made by Massimiliano Calabretta, who professes to make Sicilian wines in the classic method.

Here's the other mind-blower. The wines are aged for 7-8 years. So the 2001 I tasted was basically a 10-year-old wine. I saw a 1999 in a store shortly after, and it was going for $28! A ridiculous price for such an old and good wine.

Calabretta also makes limited amounts of a mineral, citrusy white wine made from old vine Carricante, another obscure local grape. This is very rare, but worth grabbing if you see it.

The Great House of Emidio Pepe

Monday, April 12, 2010


Say you were offered a vertical tasting of a wine house of your choice. Where would your imagination range first? Bordeaux? Burgundy? Barolo?

What about Montepulciano d'Abruzzo? Not exactly what you think of first when you think of age-worthy wine, is it? Well, I changed my mind on that count recently when I had the opportunity to try multiple vintages of the wines of Emilio Pepe. Pepe took over this estate in 1964, and, since then, his grapes have been biodynamically grown, hand-harvested, hand-destemmed, naturally fermented and aged 18 to 24 months in glass-lined tanks. No yeasts or sulfites are added during fermentation. They are not fined or filtered before bottling. Before the wine is commercially released, it is decanted into new bottles.

At a recent tasting, vintages from 2003 '02, '00, 1985, and 1983 were on hand. The Italian man in the sharp suit who poured was imperious and said nothing. I doubt he felt he had to. The wine spoke for itself.

The 2003 was great enough. Plum and cherry, dusty and deep, wonderful texture. I needed no more convincing. But it only got better from there. The 2001 was as good as the 2003, even if the finish was shorter. The 2000 was softer, more elegant and more redolent of the dusty terroir. The 1985 still retained great fruit flavors. It was more tannic and the structure was peerless. And then came the 1983. It had a heady perfume and was the color of magenta. Sediment could be seen mingling in the glass. It tasted of sour cherry, currents and soil. It was elegant and amazing. Next chance I get, I'm buying some Pepe and laying it down. The reward will be great.

Bad News From Beaujolais

Friday, March 19, 2010

We all have wines we reach for when we don't want to be disappointed, dependable standbys who impress year after year. For me, Terres Dorees, Jean-Paul Brun's daring Beaujolais winery, has long been such a wine. If I wanted good Beaujolais, both red and white, and for a good price, I knew a bottle of Brun's would never fail me.

So, I was shocked when I recently sampled Brun's 2008s and found them...awful.

The 2008 vintage was a tough one, the pourers told me. The weather was wet and there was a large loss of crop. The region was hit by hailstorms in August of that year. The conditions show in the usually redoubtable Beaujolais Blanc and Beaujolais L'Ancien Vieilles Vignes, which were both vegetal and sour, with very little fruit.

Brun is not alone, however. I tasted a few other Beaujolais from 2008 and recoiled from one bad, acrid, fruitless glass after another.

The Sipping News

Tuesday, March 2, 2010

Chartreuse takes advantage of its current popularity, hoisting up the price. [Alcademics]

The Alcohol Beverage Control in California suddenly decides to let San Francisco bars that all infusions are actually illegal. [San Francisco Chronicle]

Prepare to have your head removed from your shoulders if you mention a Vodka Old-Fashioned in some circles. [eGullet]

Chilean wine industry suffers following earthquake, with tanks busted, barrels broken and buildings collapsed. [Dr. Vino]

Beam releases Old Crow Reserve, an extension of a very old brand. [Cowdery]

Joseph Drouhin Goes Organic


Twenty years after Philippe Drouhin first began introducing organic practices to his Burgundy vineyards, the producer has been awarded organic certification for all grapes grown within its vineyards beginning with the 2009 vintage. 

The Drouhin vineyards have actually been organic for years, but official regulations require a three-year “conversion” period during which the rules of organic production are applied and verified in the vineyards. The certification process began in August 2006. Philippe Drouhin, one of the four siblings running the winery, and the one in charge of the company‘s 73-hectare estate, including 38 hectares of Chablis, began introducing organic practices back in 1990, shortly after joining the family firm. So consumers won't notice a sudden change in the taste of the wines. Only difference is, it's official now.

A Chianti Standout

Sunday, February 28, 2010

Returning to the Italian Wine Masters tasting at Vino 2010—of which I acclaimed the undersung 2005 Brunellos in a previous post—I'd like to say something about the 2006 Chiantis, both regular and Riserva. More good news here. As has been well reported, the year was a great vintage for Tuscany, with conditions near perfect, with grapes achieving ideal ripeness and sugar levels. And the proof was in the bottles being poured at the Waldorf.

I had no complaints tasting the offerings of the wonderful houses of Isole e Olena (light, yet deep, and well balanced), the ever-dependable Fontodi (soft tannins and a light juiciness) and Castello di Ama (the rougher, spicier Vigneto Bellavista vineyard and the fuller-bodied Vigneto La Casuccia). Castello de Ama was also pouring the best Olive Oil in the house, hands down, fruity and complex. Many Italian wine houses manufacturer an olive oil just to get in on a good racket, and the results are negligible. Not so here. The oil was as good as their wine, and the owner (who was pouring) was right to boast of it as the best oil in Chianti.

Small Casaloste also showed well with its Riserva Don Vincenzo 2006, which was fresh and supple. But they also had a wonderful bargain wine up their sleeve, a 2004 Riserva Casaloste they're selling for only $45 a bottle. It was the best Chianti I had at the tasting, beautiful and deliciously deep and mature. Only 8,000 bottles were produced.