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Archive for January, 2011

The first beer I ever had from Goose Island was the Honker’s Ale. Because of this (and because of the distinctive goose head tap handle), I tend to think of the Honker’s Ale as Goose Island’s calling card. Realistically, I think more people actually prefer the 312, but, well, lots of people like wheat beers.

Basic Info:
Name:
Honker’s Ale
Origin: Goose Island Beer Co., Chicago, IL
Style: English Bitter
ABV: 4.2%
IBU: 30
I drank this: on tap at Old Chicago, Olathe

If you’re ever watching a show or a movie filmed in England, populated by English actors or written by English authors, during which the characters take themselves to a pub, they will often ask for a pint of bitters. This beer is an example of what they’d receive (or what you’d receive were you to wander into an English pub and order a pint of bitters – I suspect that if you did that Stateside, most bartenders would just look at you funny).

Let me say at this point that for a beer referred to as “bitters,” this is not a particularly bitter beer – compared to the hops extravanganzas so prominent in American brewing right now, this stuff is positively malty. The scent is medium malts (caramel, biscuit, that sort of thing) with a touch of a hoppy bitterness floating on top – the bitterness is noticeable, but only if you’re looking for it. Otherwise, malts.

Taste-wise, this is a nice mishmash of malts (which sort of remind me of Oktoberfest malt profiles) with a little bit of sweetness and some slightly bitter herbal/grassy hops. The hops are sharp – they feel biting on the tongue moreso than they provide any sort of bitter flavor. The aftertaste is faint and lightly bitter, gone in a few seconds.

Body-wise, this is medium, with what my notes incomprehensibly describe as a “slight hint of caramelly sort of something in the body if that makes sense to anyone but me.”* To translate as best I can, the body feels overall fairly light, but there’s a hint of something that seems thicker and which also reminds me of the texture of liquid caramel (like a caramel sauce). This is all simultaneous, making the body of the beer one of its most interesting qualities in my book. I’m pretty much incapable of describing it in a not-nonsensical way.

It’s a nicely balanced ale, very easy to drink. The fact that it’s fairly low in alcohol also makes it a great session beer – it’s totally within reason to be able to throw back three of these during the course of an evening and not be too far gone. (I think, anyway. I haven’t actually tried drinking three of these in one sitting.)

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*not that this makes all that much sense to even me at this point. Note to self: take moar bettar notes!

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You know what sounds good right now? Chocolate chip cookies.

Wine: A to Z Oregon Pinot Noir
Vintage: 2008
Region: Oregon. Apparently all over Oregon, from what Wine Spectator said in a write up
Grapes involved: Pinot Noir
Color: clear deep ruby red with a very slight purple undertone
Cost: $17.99-$19.99 or so
Notes from the label: I forgot to write them down before getting rid of the bottle. I’ll check at work – if there’s anything major, I’ll edit this post to reflect.
Food pairings: Chocolate would be super awesome. Or pasta in a meat sauce – like a bolognese or a pork/rosemary sauce (there’s a recipe for one in one of Lidia’s cookbooks that is pretty much tear-inducing good). I think a whole bunch of things would be good as long as they didn’t go super-duper spicy (that’s what we have Rieslings for, yes?)
Also good to know: this wine got 90 points from Wine Spectator.

My notes: I had fun with this one because there were a millionbillion things going on that were all clamoring for attention – it was overwhelming at first. Once I got settled and let it wash over me a bit, here’s what I came up with.

The nose is largely red and purple berries, pink pepper and a touch of leather.* Flavor-wise, my notes are all over the place. I finally settled on berry, cherry, a hint of pepper, a little bit of leather, and a hint of orris no paperwhite no star jasmine.** So, earthy-spicy basenotes with central fruity notes of berry and cheery and a faint topnote of star jasmine.

This wine would make a kickass perfume.

This was a medium-bodied (maybe? still sorting through that) wine with a fairly light tannin level – the tannins were there and contributing to the earthy feel, but weren’t by any means going crazy. The finish was pleasant in that sort of way wherein “pleasant” is pretty much the perfect word to describe it. It wasn’t overpoweringly strong, nor did it last forever, but it was quite enjoyable while it visited. The tannins came across more strongly in the finish than they did in the initial sip, something that surprised me and may have been one of my favorite things about this wine.

Would I buy again? Oh, hell yes. Come to mama.

Other thoughts: I’ve been on a pretty big Zinfandel (please note: NOT WHITE ZIN - the red stuff) kick lately, so I kept mentally comparing the Pinot Noir to the Zins I’ve had. The Zins are a decidedly more “red” feeling, whereas the PN came across as slightly more “purple.” The Zins are also very “jammy,” by which I mean that there’s something about them that reminds me forcibly of a jelly to be smeared all over a biscuit. Pinot Noirs, at least based on the ones I’ve had, don’t seem to have that sort of upfront WOAH FRUIT SPREAD feeling. I have no idea if that’s what other people mean when they say “jammy” in regards to wine, but it makes sense to me so I’m going with it.

Random thing I learned while reading Wine Spectator at work during my lunch break: Apparently the 2008 vintage of Oregon Pinot Noir is like the bestest of all best Oregon Pinot Noir vintages EVER GROWN EVAR so far. Given Oregon Pinot Noirs are supposed to be some of the bestest of all best Pinot Noirs, I’m throwing out there that it’s probably worth checking out a bottle or two soon. The 2008s are pretty much the fillers of the store wine racks right now, so finding a bottle shouldn’t be difficult.

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*Leather is one of those notes that I had a “ZOMG TOAST” reaction with. I know the smell of leather really well – the sort of comforting, dry, earthy-paper scent of an old leather jacket is wonderful. I’ve found it translated into perfume really well, but had never really figured out what to look for in wine. I assumed it would be something wonky or different or, well, something. Not leather-jacket leather.
However, it turns out that it is *exactly* the same sort of dry earthy-paper sort of worn brown jacket-style leather. It’s there, and when it clicked, I sat straight up and stared at the glass for a solid ten seconds. (I did get made fun of.)

Reader, I squealed.

**Seriously, specifically star jasmine. I’m sticking with star jasmine because there was something in the flavor of the wine that was strongly mimicking the scent of the perfume I had been wearing the day before, and star jasmine is a major component in that perfume. I maybe squealed a bit when I finally figured out why I recognized the scent.

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This is one of those where I’m in a minority. People on beeradvocate RAVED over this stuff – it’s got an A- average rating, which is huge. Me, I’m not so big on it. So remember, this is in no way a commentary on the beer or the brewing or the brewery so much as it’s a commentary on my tastes and my experience with this beer. Also remember: my taste isn’t *better* than yours. It’s just potentially different.

Basic Info:
Name:
Harvest Dance
Origin: Boulevard Brewing Co., Kansas City, MO
Style: Wheat Wine (I’ve also seen it described as a wheat barleywine)
ABV: 9.1%
IBU: the Boulevard site isn’t letting me through (I’m over 21, swearsies!), so I don’t know. I’ll update once it lets me in.
I drank this: on tap at Old Chicago, Olathe

This beer is a really pretty, bright golden color with a creamy white head. Looking at it, I would have guessed it was a Belgian Golden Ale – it has that sort of rich brightness to the color.

It smells like root beer-flavored bubblegum. And bananas. Maybe even a banana split featuring root beer ice cream. As I hate root beer and I tend only to like bananas in whole fruit form, this should serve as part of the explanation as to why I’m so *not* into this particular beer.

Moreover, it tastes like banana Now&Laters. Seriously.

For those of you unfamiliar with that particular candy, it’s like banana-wheat-yeast-hint of clove with a super-creamy mouthfeel and a slight bit of hops if it’s held in the mouth for a second or two. There’s no noticeable alcohol burn at all, which is impressive for a beer of this caliber (though I suspect the alcohol level explains how sweet this beer is – I make the candy comparison on purpose). Total lack of alcohol burn aside, it’s recognizable as a barleywine for those who know the style well. A banana Now&Later-flavored wheat barleywine.

The aftertaste is long and lingering. And root beer. Again, another thing that makes me go BLRG, but which other people would understandably like.

The best I can say is that it’s really interesting and that I’m glad I got to taste it, no matter how far it falls outside the realm of flavors I like. At the same time, NEVER AGAIN. At least, not for me.

For the banana root beer lovers out there, this means more for you. And y’all should try it, because you’d probably really like it.

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 Dear Crispin Ciders,
I find myself having a problem. There are multiple Limited Release Ciders on your website that I would dearly, dearly love to get my grubby paws on (namely The Four Musketeers and Br’er Rabbit). How might I do so? If I need drive to your HQ, that’s fine, but I need to know this so I can plan it for a day when we don’t get 8+ inches of snow.
Smooches,
Kim
P.S. I love you and would like to subscribe to your newsletter.

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Basic Info:
Name:
The Jacket
Origin: Crispin Cider
Style: Cider, brought all the way up to 11*
ABV: 8.3%
I drank this: poured from the bottle, provided to me by Derek Bean of Crispin Ciders (thank you!), shared with my brother after his nasty drive home in multiple inches of snow on a series of roads shared with people who have evidently never driven cars before (i.e., he had a crap day, loves cider and loves whiskey, and I felt it would be horribly rude of me not to share this lovely stuff with him).

Crispin describes this cider on the label as “a blend of four unique apple-wines; fermented with Belgian Trappist ale yeast; Irish Stout yeast; wild fermentation heirloom cider-apple wine & Colfax Classic apple-wine: all aged in Tennessee Whiskey barrels. Finished with unfiletered Gravenstein apple-juice aged in the same casks.”

So, what does this tell us?** Basically it says that Crispin has taken a blend of their other ciders and aged them in what amounts to Jack Daniels barrels. This never would have occurred to me to try, which is probably why I’m the one writing a blog and they’re the ones making a (huge, I hope) profit. Because this cider is amazing. It is the bestest of all best ciders I’ve ever had.

The Jacket begins with a really rich smell of apples with a hint of wood and a touch of whiskey.*** It’s warm and wonderful, sort of like wassail.

The flavor comes in waves – it’s one of those drinks that is complex enough that it has to be broken down into moments. It begins with a hint of whiskey at the tip of the tongue, touched by a hint of yeast. That’s followed by a warm, slightly thick apple flavor with hints of wood and spice, which is followed again by whiskey at the swallow. There’s enough carbonation to be noticeable, but it’s still very smooth. The aftertaste is a really balanced combination of apple and whiskey.

Compared to other Crispin ciders I’ve had, this is the least overtly yeasty – the flavors are all so perfectly balanced that nothing stands out in particular, yet it all works together to make something amazing. It’s like alchemy.

It’s glorious. GLORIOUS. Like, I would date this cider if I could. This cider is like the apple wine equivalent of Clive Owen in a smoking jacket. *drool*

So Crispin, I think y’all are slightly insane for all the odd things you keep doing to cider, but I love you for it completely. Keep on keeping on, and I will do my level best to figure out how to get my grubby paws on more of this divine nectar.

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*If you don’t know this reference, you need to watch better movies.
**Other than someone needs to spend a couple of weeks reading Reasoning With Vampires and then revisit the punctuation issues.
***I am a loser side note: I actually *have* a perfume of this. It’s BPAL’s Fearful Pleasure, a Limited Edition perfume from fall 2008.

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“It’s cherry limeade!” – Marcia
“This is like Jonestown” – Tony
“I like my blueberry wine better.” – Mom
“I need to go shave my tongue.” – also Tony
“This beer would corrupt children.” – Ben
“Why must you always kill the happy?” – Alan
*bemused look* – Dad


Basic Info:

Name:
Wild Blue Blueberry Lager
Origin: Anheuser-Busch
Style: Blueberry Lager, obviously. Otherwise, Fruit Beer.
ABV: 8.0% (!!!)
IBU: Um, no.
I drank this: at home, split amongst friends and family. My sample went into a tumbler.
Please note: I chose this particular picture because you can sort of see Dad’s reaction to the beer in the background, crinkled eyebrows and everything. It made me laugh.

The reason I decided, upon its recommendation, to go ahead and try this beer was because unlike the flavored Michelob Ultra creations sent from hell by Satan himself, this beer actually resembles something with blueberry in it. Like, color-wise, it’s roughly what I’d expect for something containing blueberry juice. Plus, you know, 8% ABV. And it’s Anheuser-Busch. I HAD TO KNOW.

And now I do. It smells like blueberry and some sort of pale malt, the kind of malt I associate with Pilsners. I’m not personally a fan of this sort of malt, but it’s not a warning sign per se. At first taste, it even tastes like blueberry, or at the very least like some sort of wild not-blue berry. It’s… surprisingly not bad, even for an avowed hater of 92% of all fruit beers on the market.

Here’s the thing, though: NEVER SWALLOW THIS BEER. EVER. The aftertaste is, according to my notes, “mold.” It’s horrid. Horrid. MOLDY HORRID. Make-it-stop-painful-horrid-give-me-more-Sambuca*-please-so-I-can-kill-the-taste-dead horrid.

Overall, it’s not anywhere near as bad as I thought it might be. I could even see where people could like it, assuming their taste buds do different things to the aftertaste than mind did – I don’t see how anyone could survive the aftertaste I experienced and still enjoy the beer. The upshot is that if you like fruit beers and you’re feeling adventurous, try some.

If nothing else, it’s way better than a Sam Adams Cherry Wheat.

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*Sambuca is an Italian after dinner drink with a syrupy texture that tastes like licorice. It’s not my favorite flavor in the world, but it’s magic. To experience the magic, have a snifter of some after a huge meal, while you’re in the middle of that OMG NEVER EATING AGAIN phase. The Sambuca will cure your overstuffed, bloated feeling. It’s MAGIC, seriously. And why we always try to keep Sambuca around.

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Wine: Kunde Chardonnay
Vintage: 2008
Region: Sonoma Valley, California
Grapes involved: Chardonnay
Color: a sort of nice, slightly buttery golden yellow
Cost: $12.99-$17.99 or so
Notes from the label: tastes of ripe pears, crisp apples and toasty oak; pairs with fresh green salads, seafood*, or roast chicken and veggies.
Food pairings: as suggested above, really – this is definitely a “chicken” wine to me.

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My notes: The Kunde Chardonnay has a nose of oak, toast,** pear, and apple. Here’s the thing with this list, though – I don’t know for sure that this is what I would have come up with without the label notes. With the label notes, I could smell the wine and think “okay, that all makes sense.” I feel like I was sort of biased ahead of time, like I was playing hide and seek with the flavors rather than making my own judgments, and I don’t really like that. I think what I’m going to do is only allow myself to look at label notes once I’ve finished with my own reviewing notes, so that I can overlay what I think onto what the amorphous “they” thinks and see how my guesses stand up to expert opinions. Long story short: the label notes work for me here. I agree.

Flavor-wise, there’s an initial hit of what I suppose is “toasty oak,” now that I know that’s what they call it, along with pear and/or apple (I have the hardest time distinguishing those sometimes – this is some sort of apple-pear mélange, maybe). And maybe there’s a touch of something slightly peachy. It’s dry, with a medium, smooth mouthfeel. Not a ton of acidity. Very long finish.

I had this with the chicken stew that was made with the Nathanson Creek Chard, among other things. The stew was fantastic with the Kunde Chard, so I’m thinking I’ll post the recipe. After all, it wouldn’t be a wine blog without foodiebits, would it?

Would I order it again? Absolutely, if I were making something similar to chicken stew for dinner, because it was a really good pairing. I’m not sure I’m all that big on Chardonnays, however – I got to taste my first Sauvignon Blanc in roughly four months today at work and was forcibly reminded that Sauvignon Blanc has this happy citrus-y zing!*** that I adore beyond all reason, a zing! which Chardonnay lacks and which I find myself missing. However, I can also say that the Kunde is one of the best Chards I’ve ever had (not that it has a ton of competition), so this is definitely something I would go for were a Chard what I was going for.

Fun Tidbit: this wine won a Best Buy tag and 90 Points from Wine & Spirits, along with some other awards. The winery has gotten all kinds of recognition for being environmentally friendly and using sustainable growing practices. Yay!

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*This is the point where I got sick of transcribing the “insert adjective before noun” part of the marketing copy. Putting an adjective before *every* noun is flat-out bad writing.
**It had for seriously never occurred to me before this that when a label tells me something smells/tastes like “toasty oak” or “toast” anything, they really do mean toast. Like, toast-for-breakfast toast. Real toast. Bread toast. I’m used to finding toasty notes in beer, but that’s always made sense to me because beer vaguely resembles bread in my mind. Toast was never anything I expected to find in wine. I don’t know what I thought I was looking for, but toast-like-actually-toast wasn’t it.
I’m kind of a dumbass sometimes.
***Long-time readers of my beer blog will know something of my irritation with what I refer to as Extraneous Exclamation Point Syndrome. I recognize that by adding the extraneous exclamation point to my zing, I am in fact adding to the problem. However, Sauvignon Blanc doesn’t just zing, it zings WITH JAZZ HANDS. The extraneous exclamation point is therefore necessary. Deal.

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Wine: Nathanson Creek Chardonnay
Grapes involved: Chardonnay
Color: is actually well-represented in the pic, for once!
Cost: $7.99
Region: California (no more specific than that, though)

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So. I generally think of myself as not a particularly big fan of Chardonnay. Most of the time, I’d rather have a Sauvignon Blanc. I’m doing an experiment today – I’m trying this right now, having just dumped half a bottle into some chicken stew I’m making – and I’ll be trying the 2008 Kunde Sonoma Valley Chardonnay tonight with dinner. The goal is to start getting a better sense of Chards in general.

So let’s start here. The nose is a combination of something sort of slightly woodsy vanilla (I’m taking it this is an oaked Chardonnay, then – the label doesn’t say, and so I’m assuming oak because oak is the appropriate default assumption to make with California Chards, yes?) and some grapes and alcohol. It’s all pretty faint – I keep huffing the wine like I’m trying to get high on it and I’m not smelling much of anything.

In the realm of taste, this has a bit of bright acidity, some flavors of vanilla and wood, and some sort of bright fruit* like a very tart pear. Maybe a hint of green apple. It’s a very smooth wine, maybe (I’m totally guessing here) medium- to full-bodied?

The aftertaste is a lot of alcohol with hints of caramel, wood, and really tart apple.

Would I get this again? It’s not that bad, really. It’s not great, however, and I’d at the moment be much more likely to grab something I know I like better (like a Sauv Blanc). For the price, however, it could be *much* worse. Like this winery’s Merlot.

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*Here’s the thing: I don’t eat tons of fruit. So I kind of suck at differentiating between which fruits it is that I’m tasting. I’m getting better at it with red wines – like I’m starting to get the differences between “plum” v “cherry” v “black cherry” v “cranberry” v “currant” etc. White wines, however, not so much. I think it’s because it is (as evident by the background of the picture I took of this wine) the dead of winter, meaning I’m generally in a red wine mood moreso than a white. We’ll see. Maybe this whole experiment will end in me eating much more fruit in an attempt to describe wine flavors with a greater degree of accuracy.
Wood, however, I’m all over being able to describe. My beer and perfume learnings have prepared me quite well for that.

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Wine: Nathanson Creek Merlot*
Grapes involved: Merlot
Color: deep red with a hint of a brownish tone
Cost: $7.99
Region: vinted and bottled in California, but no clue where the grapes are grown
Label-provided tasting notes: It’s all marketing wharblegarble. I’ll spare you unless the Chard also sucks.

So. Here’s the wine:

Like, it looks like wine (albeit not in a pretty glass)(but I kinda like wine in tumblers).

Let’s see. Initially, it smelled like stale mansweat. Then it added a layer of smoke. Then a layer of berry, which quickly devolved into berry-flavored candy. It’s a complex, layered scent, people. Stale berry-flavor smoky mansweat.

YUMM-O, as Rachel Ray would say.**

Flavor wise, it starts with a definite hit of black pepper, then berry cherry plum, then tannins, then something that I can pretty much only describe as sweat. The aftertaste is roughly the same, plus burny alcohol. And it hangs out FOREVER.

To sum up:

I HATE CHEAP MERLOT

Food pairing guesses: Don’t. Like, don’t pair food with this, because you shouldn’t drink this wine. Seriously. It’s not even the Merlot’s fault, because I’ve had good Merlot. Like the Hunter Ashby release right now. That was good.

This is horrifying. Stay far, far away.

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*notice the lack of vintage? Yeah, that didn’t strike me as a good sign either.
**I am not a Rachel Ray fan.

And as a final, parting note: if I think a wine sucks, it doesn’t mean the wine sucks. It just means I don’t like it. Well, usually, anyway. I’m pretty sure this just objectively sucks.

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[cool story, bro] I received a bottle of this at work the day after Boulevard brewed it, weeks before it was drinkable because it hadn’t bottle-conditioned yet. I planned on waiting a couple of weeks to let it do its thing and was then going to review it, months before it was available.

Then I forgot about it until the Irish (Boulevard’s Spring Seasonal) appeared on shelved this week.

So much for my Spring Preview Post.
[/cool story, bro]

Basic Info:
Name:
Irish Ale
Origin: Boulevard Brewery, KCMO
Style: Irish Red Ale
ABV: 5.8%
IBU: ?? *will update when the Boulevard site starts working for me again
I drank this: at home, poured into a pint glass

No picture of this beer/bottle today because I was talking and laughing and not anywhere near my phone when I was enjoying it. It’s a pretty beer in a cool bottle, though, I will tell you that (and yes, I realize this is not helpful).

To get on with it, already: the Boulevard Irish is a lovely red color with pretty much no head whatsoever. It has a nice scent of slightly piney hops combined with medium sorts of malts – it’s one of those beers that goes in the “smells like beer” category, but with the piney hop note that makes things interesting and pretty.

Flavor-wise, this does *exactly* what I want an Irish Red Ale to do: it uses my tongue as a sharpening block. This is the “bite” hop phenomenon in my world of non-standard terminology, so-called because it feels like the hops are trying to bite my tongue. I love it when Irish reds have strong bitey/sharp hops. It’s like the standard-bearer of the style in my mind.

Anyway, the hops, other than being highly sharp/bitey, aren’t hugely bitter in flavor. They’re a feeling rather than a flavor. The majority of the flavor comes from a great biscuit/caramel-sort of medium malt profile that adds a hint of sweetness and a sort of warming feeling without being heavy: this beer has a great body.

Basically, this beer is everything I want in an Irish/Red Ale with no drawbacks or hesitations whatsoever. It’s pretty much perfect, and has launched itself into number one position on my list of favorite Red Ales. This is probably not a good thing, because it means I’ll be using this as the standard by which to judge every other Red Ale I drink between now and St. Patrick’s Day.

Thanks, Boulevard. I think you just ruined my late-Winter drinking. Also, you’d best make a TON of this, because this is the beer I’d like to be drinking during March Madness.

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Wine: 2009 Punto Final Malbec - this wine has a kickass black label. My camera isn’t dealing well with dark dark colors yet, so there’s no pic
Grapes involved: Malbec, which is apparently a super-close cousin to Merlot, and (so far as I can tell, anyway) almost the only grape they grow in Argentina
Color: deep red, not quite into purple territory
Cost: $15.99
Region: Argentina (Mendoza, maybe)
Label-provided tasting notes: Nothing about taste, but it did tell me that this is unfiltered wine from 50+ year old, low-yield vines. Again, apparently low yield is what you want – torturing grapes makes for good wine. I still think this whole concept seems super emo, but if it means my wine tastes yummy, well, I’ll leave it to the experts.
Food pairing guesses: not sure. Tapas, maybe? It could definitely stand up to red meat, but would overwhelm any fish I can come up with except for cedar-planked salmon (which I am convinced needs a red, but maybe more a Pinot)

First of all, this wine needs to be popped and decanted/poured at least a solid half hour before you’re planning on drinking it. It took 30 minutes from pour to having *any* discernible, worthwhile nose. So plan ahead with this one: this is a wine to pop before you start making dinner, not right when you’re ready to serve.

When it did finally develop a smell, it was a tannic, mineral-y, herbal, woodsy, plummy type smell. I’m not sure this sounds great, but it’s actually nice. The plum smell develops more over time – by the 45 minute point, it’s heavier on the plum and wood and has developed a bit of a peppery bite as well.

Flavor-wise, this has a very tart cranberry note, a plum note, something that tastes woodsy but which doesn’t necessarily mean that I think they aged this in oak (I haven’t the foggiest idea if Malbecs are generally oak-aged), along with lots of pepper and spice and a touch of some sort of purple floral*. And maybe a touch of cherry. The tannins are medium-to-sorta high, the level where they leave a bit of a film on your teeth and make the roof of your mouth non-slippery for a few seconds after swallowing.

The aftertaste is really long, all woodsy plum/cranberry/cherry with a nice warming feeling from the alcohol .

Would I get this again?: Definitely. This is actually my second go-round with the Punto Final Malbec. I had a glass of it at 715 in Lawrence a week or so before I came up with the idea to do this blog, so I knew I liked it but I hadn’t taken the notes down to try to figure out why. When I decided to start blogging wine, I was sort of doing it as an excuse to get a bottle and figure out why I liked it. So anyway, I like it because I like the complexity but don’t feel super overwhelmed by it, either.

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*I’m really big into synethesia as a method of describing things, synethesia being the idea that smells and tastes can be described in terms of colors and so on and so forth. Floral flavors are especially prone to get color treatment from me. I’m blaming this on perfume. Every now and then I will smell something and think “that smells yellow” – with wine, apparently I’m prone to tasting and thinking “purple flower” or “white flower” or whatever. Hopefully there’s at least one other perfume-obsessed wine dork out there who will read this and know what I mean. I hope.

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