BARBAZUL, BLEND - $15.99

Barbazul, 2009 Blend - Huerta de Albala -Tierra De Cadiz, Spain.


If you can't judge a book by its cover, then it should stand to reason that one certainly can't judge a wine by it's label, either. The problem is that labels, like book covers, all seem to be trying to out clever one another and you almost need a guide to point out which ones are great works, and which are simply great graphics.


I've passed this bottle of Barbazul several times, never really giving it much thought. There are so many bottles sometimes that I admit, all too often, I end up picking by the label. There's no harm in it, I suppose. It's what's inside that counts, but more times than not you don't know exactly what's inside until you pony up some cash; thus the label is all you have to work with. The label, or a wine clerk - who might or might not have actually tasted the wine, and might or might not have any idea what he or she is talking about.


When I tried my sip of Barbazul at a chance tasting, I was instantly zoning in on the simple label, depicting what looks like a cave drawing of a horse in red lines against a white background, and I could feel my lips moving as I said silently to myself what is that? I snatched the last bottle off of the shelf and brought it straight home for closer inspection.


Deep and rich in color, this wine is a shade of mysterious purple that I believe is usually reserved for wizards. Opaque and solid looking, it's like the skin of a black plumb has been turned to jello that has yet to set.


On the nose: At first I was getting an odd mineral scent. Sure there's berry and something rich going on, but there was a definite mineral-like sulfuric scent too, mixed with a waft of something vegetative that I couldn't quite place. I had a feeling that it was going to fall away soon enough, and right I was. Let this wine sit for a few moments to relax and get adjusted to you and your glass. After getting to know one another give the wine a good swirl and sit back as it starts to release a bouquet that begins with a soft hint of boysenberry. The berry is quickly enveloped in a note that isn't unlike the scent of a Fig Newton, but then as the dried fruit is pushed down, the vaporous presence of eucalyptus rises to the top of your senses.


The first sip: A zing of wild strawberry with a ginger snap spice rolls across your palate, along with a touch of dried figs and cherries, yet it remains soft and supple like a mouth full of smoky preserves. Velvety and light in your cheeks, it rolls around warming from the heat of your mouth into a full vapor, like steam rising from a still pond on a cool morning as your mouth fills with a simple and delicate dew of flavors. Just when you think you've got it all figured out though, something new happens. It starts on the back of your palate - a gentle sizzling comes to life - fizzing and releasing a delightful cola taste as the tannins activate.


The finish: Hot and spicy - light and weightless - distant, but not long forgotten. The wine falls away leaving behind an easy, softly acidic, tannic dryness that lingers on and on, like the presence of somebody who has recently left a room long before you wanted them to go.


Each of the grapes used in Barbazul are readily present and waiting their turn to shine, a blend of 50% Tintilla de Rota, 35% Syrah, 10% Merlot & 5% Cabernet Sauvignon. The Tintilla de Rota - a grape that goes by several different names depending on where it's being grown - is primarily used to make fortified wines, and that's the source of the dried fruit taste. The rich preserved berry notes are obviously coming from the Syrah, just as the soft and velvety mouth feel is coming from the Merlot and the fizzy tannins from the Cabernet. All these grapes working in total harmony, masterfully blended and aged for five months in French oak - hence the fluttering of smoke.


Pairing:
Ribs are the first thing that come to mind. Bar-B-Q ribs and cool creamy, tangy coleslaw. For vegans, Bar-B-Q seitan will be nice too. It's the texture, and gamy yeastiness rolling around in that saucy spice that will be the key to the flavor match. Also, consider a flat pizza with olive oil, gorgonzola and fresh basil; pork chops on the grill with a dollop of apple sauce; teriyaki chicken; mu-shu pork with plumb sauce, or - and I know this is out there - baked noodle kugel with raisins. With dessert, as odd as it might sound - jelly doughnuts. Also, try chocolate cake with fresh raspberries and spoon of chocolate mousse; butter cookies; strawberry short cake - preferably with fresh berries and real whipped cream.    

TRES OJOS, Old Vine Granacha, $8.95

Tres Ojos, 2007 Old Vine Garnacha - Bodega San Gregorio - Calatayud, Spain.

The other day I walked into a wine store, one that I have walked past several times but never entered. From the outside it looks pretentious and intimidating; the sort of place where snobs gather for expensive tasting classes to learn how to discuss the abstract details of one of those bottles of  Chateau du Blah-Blah.

I wandered the bottles until the clerk eventually offered me a recommendation, prompting me to explain that I was only looking. I had already spent my weekly wine allowance on a rather uninspiring bottle of bordeaux, for which I had had high hopes.

Finding a great bottle - a hidden gem - for under $10 (including tax) is sometimes like panning for gold, especially in a small independent wine shop that isn't going to get great deals because buying in huge quantities isn't always possible. Sometimes you need a prospector who knows the lay of the land to aim you in the right direction, so I asked the clerk what he would buy if he only had a ten dollar bill in his pocket, and he took me right to the Tres Ojos old vine garnacha, for $8.95

Now, an old vine anything for under $20 in my book is usually a waste of time and money, but he told me that while he himself hadn't tried it, the owner of the store instructed him to take anyone on a budget to this bottle, saying that it was the best bottle he had ever had for the buck.

No truer words have ever been spoken.

Color: A rich, dark garnet color coats the inside of the glass, allowing through little glints of distant light refracting up the glasses stem, releasing a mysterious glimmer, the way a gem only hints at its own sparkle.

A quick swirl to release the bouquet leaves a high tide mark where the syrupy juice holds for a moment before forming into tightly defined, sticky drips.  As the legs very slowly make their decent, they offer an idea as to the wine's concentration, the same way that a simple wink allows another person to infer an unsaid truth.

On the nose: I think of milk chocolate cherry cordials, the kind that dribble into an anticipated sticky mess the moment you bite.  The cherry notes are only muted by the spice - nutmeg I think - and bringing up the rear is a soft layer of mineral.  This is a big, jammy nose, with lots to find if you're so incline to keep the glass to your face like an oxygen mask.

The first sip: Red, hard candy, like the flavor of a cherry Jolly Rancher, but without the sugary sweet.  As the wine falls across your palate and warms, it releases all of these flavors - layering one after the next - from cassis to clove, to tobacco, then cinnamon and pepper.

The spices come alive as the tannins kick in. A walnut bitter coats your tongue like an electric blanket and warms all your senses. The mouth feel of the juice itself is quite silky, and as you're realizing this your cheeks become coated with the bitter tackiness of the tannins - and then your gums.

Don't be afraid of this creeping tannic sensation. For a moment you think it's going to be a bit too much, but like dripping candle wax onto your hand, you quickly begin to enjoy defying the sting.

The finish: As the wine reaches the back of your throat and starts to fall, there's the feeling of a cartoon fuse sizzling towards a skyrocket. Just out of sight the fuse catches up with the wine and there's an explosion of heat that falls with a warming sensation down the back of your throat, complete with the sting of  juicy firework flares cascading into darkness.

The lingering tannins cling to your gums and your cheeks, and make your tongue feel like sandpaper, but it all licks away clean and you instantly want another sip of the bold, jammy beast.

Tres Ojos is 100% Garnacha from 40 - 50 year old non-irrigated vines.

The older the vine, the less fruit it produces, but the fruit it does produce is more concentrated. Another factor in the concentration of the juice is lack of water. When the vine has to work to nourish the fruit, you taste more of the surrounding soil and less of the water.

Pairing:

You might think I'm crazy: eggs. An egg salad sandwich for lunch with a glass of Tres Ojos would be decadent. I'll also suggest the obvious: a rich, hearty beef stew; mushroom risotto; a grilled steak burrito with lots of guacamole and salsa. For something lighter, consider a salad with tomatoes, feta and mandarin orange slices dressed with olive oil and sea salt.  Cheeses: Maytag blue cheese - an Iowa blue that you can probably find at any Whole Foods. Dessert: Black forrest cake; freshly sliced mango; butter pecan ice cream.