What's in a Name?

You've heard the phrase "Don't judge a book by it's cover", and in the wine world, that translates to "Don't judge a wine by it's frightening name". Case in point: BUKETTRAUBE (boo-ki-trobb), the meaty little South African white. So lush, refreshing, and aromatic...it seems wrong that it gets branded with a name worthy of a weapon of war. Somehow the name BUKETTRAUBE doesn't conjure up images of juicy peaches, spicy cloves, and a touch of honey. But give it a sip, and that's what you get. Big enough to wash down some pomegranate-glazed chicken meatballs with chickpea puree. And I know you've always got some of those on hand, right? (If not, head to Willi's Wine Bar. Photo included for temptation purposes.)

So here's my plug for a wine that you might pass on because it lacks the dainty alias it deserves. Bravo BUKETTRAUBE!

Paradise Found

Was that the best sparkling wine I’ve ever tasted, or am I just easy to please?

Yes, I confess, I’ll drink just about anything with tiny bubbles, but really, wow! Paradise Ridge 100% Chardonnay Blanc de Blanc (from Santa Rosa, CA. of all places!) is too good to be unknown and, naturally...unavailable at the grocery store. Slightly sweet, with a hint of toasted almonds and apple blossom (c'mon you've tasted those, right?). Perhaps not the best sparkling wine in existence, but it certainly is my flavor of the month. And who doesn’t love a bubbly, almond-apple flavored winter fling? Bring it on.

Perhaps it was the countless bottles of Korbel Brut I consumed growing up with my mother, who thinks Champagne deserves it’s own sector of the food pyramid (God bless her!). Setting the dinner table went like this: forks, knives, napkins, champagne glasses. And I mean EVERY NIGHT. I’m not complaining, but anyone who’s sipped on their fair share of Korbel Brut – and my share was more than fair – will tell you that it’s nothing to write home about. (The Korbel winery in Guerneville does offer some tasty ways to branch out, though). Point is, I was primed for a change. Korbel had become the cranky old husband I came home to every night, and Paradise Ridge was the young, studly, and all-too-approachable male underwear model looking for a new friend. Now thankfully, cheating on a bottle of wine is not outside my moral perimeters so I allowed myself to indulge in the case of Korbel vs. Paradise. (Cranky hubby would win in the prior comparison, I swear.)

The good news: Paradise can be found. Bad news: it can only be found at Paradise Ridge Winery in Santa Rosa, or online at www.prwinery.com ($30). Do what you must to get a taste...preferably to share with your cranky old hubby on Christmas or New Years Eve. Who knows what kind of magic a paradisiacal bubbly can work....Cheers to that!

Just say YES

If you’re ever invited to dinner at a wine broker’s house DO NOT, under any circumstances, turn down the invitation. There will most likely be a wine cellar involved, or at least a wine garage. And since wine dealers spend most of their day anxiously trying to please individual palettes, you can guarantee a table full of superstar wines, as part of an attempt to have ‘something for everyone’. Oh, how we need more overachievers in the wine world!

During a such an evening, I arrived to a house filled with the aroma of homemade pizzettas: lemony chicken, pesto and melting mozzarella. Hmm, I’m sensing a glass of buttery Chard coming on, and, viola! There is was: a 2006 Walter Hansel “North Slope” Russian River Valley Chardonnay...golden and glistening in a frosty goblet, flaunting it’s voluptuous bod.

I must admit, as pretty as that picture was, I was not itching to slug the stuff. It's not that I'm an anti-chard gal, but there are countless other wines I would rather sip on. You’ve heard the complaints: enough oak to splinter your throat, and malolactic worthy of drenching your movie theatre popcorn in. Poor Chard has developed a nasty, yet well-deserved reputation for trying too hard. Finding a demure Chard with a delicate balance of fruit and oak is quite a coup. But the search is so worth the prize. And thank goodness I had Wes the Wine Broker to do the searching for me!

Wes has tasted up and down the California coast, scouting out wines with stunning character and copious drinkability. He appreciates subtleties and respects small production, hand-crafted wines that can only be found by hunting them down. I trust his selections, so I was optimistic about the straw-colored Chard placed before me.

And down it went, like a cyclone of pleasure. Juicy apple and pear, toasted brioche, salted caramel, and spring roses dancing on the tongue (yes, I am officially a cork-dork now). A round velvety body, and satiny smooth finish complete the masterpiece. Clearly, Walter Hansel is the kind of Chard that begs for sip after sip. The subtle harmony is so stunning, you must experience it over and over again to believe it's actually happening. Still!

And so, yet another lesson in "don't knock it until you try it". But the real moral of the story is: keep your friends close, and your wine broker friends closer. Thanks Wes:)

Humble Hunters

A Vulture? It's so morbid, so dirty, so...uninviting.

That was the oh-so supportive feedback I got when I excitedly revealed my long-deliberated blog name, VINO VULTURE (which won out over other tantilizing titles like 'Sassy & Sauced', and 'ScrewedUp'). Sure, vultures aren't the most loveable of creatures, but anyone who has spent a decent amount of time with me will admit, if I were an animal, the vulture role would suit me quite well. Those guys will eat anything. And I'm sure they enjoy every bloody bite. So humble. So unpretentious. So appreciative of whatever they can get. Which is the same way I approach wine.

If it's made of grapes and contains alcohol, pour me a tall one. Hey, I'm not saying I will enjoy it, or even finish the glass. But sure, I'll give it a try. With all the millions (perhaps gillions?) of wines out there, life is too short to refuse a taste. Most of them I could live without, but the others...oh how dull life would be without them.

Like a vulture hones in on a fresh piece of roadkill, the VINO VULTURE has her radar on for any and all opportunities to suck down some grown-up grape juice. I would not call myself a lush (except for the days prior to my Vino Vulture title, when "lush" was the only word that came to mind), because I do truly love and honor wine for all the noble, refined, and sophisticated qualities it has. But that doesn't mean I need to spend $40, $50 or $200 on a bottle. That's what boyfriends are for!

So, I invite you to embrace your vulture-like tendencies, and join me in the endless discovery of yummy, ethereal, heady, and dare I say...life-changing vino experiences. I'll be blogging about my noteable encounters with our beloved vino. The good, bad, and gag-worthy. Perhaps it will be useful, enlightening, or just a good way to pass the time at your mediocre job which you only keep to pay for...you guessed it...your vino addiction. Get ready to spread those wings!

Cheers,
The VINO VULTURE