Identity Crisis, White Syrah - $16.99

Babcock "Identity Crisis," 2010 White Syrah - Santa Barbara, CA



This is a bottle that will turn a wine drinker, into a wine enthusiast.


For every wine lover there's one wine that did something that no other wine could, it changed the way you think about wine. It made you excited about what you were tasting and it gave you the feeling that you discovered something. For a moment, you even perhaps got the feeling that you suddenly understood another language. For me, it was a 1994 pinot noir from Philo, in the Alexander Valley in Sonoma. The winery isn't there anymore, I've looked. I was just starting to learn about wine, and on a visit to the vineyard the winemaker took me through the tasting. There was no fancy tasting room, no money changed hands for tasting tokens, it was just us, a couple of glasses and a broken corkscrew standing on a gravel patch between her house, and the barn (the winery). She explained the grapes, the ground, the flavors of strawberries and cream, and right there and then, on the top of a hill looking at the vines sloping down into the valley, I was hooked.


I've had lots of wines over the years, some memorable for being great, some memorable for being not so great, and many not memorable at all. When I tried "Identity Crisis" white syrah from Babcock, I was taken back to my first great wine experience all those years ago. I felt like I had discovered something that nobody else in the world had ever tried, and instantly I started to fall in love with wine all over again.


The color: It's that of a peach, soft and pink'ish verging into orange, but when you tilt the glass the orange hugh takes control and soon orange is all you see. It's brilliant. The color is completely different; it isn't a trendy rose, and it isn't a white, but it isn't a red either although the bottle may suggest otherwise - it's quite simply put, something all of its own. 


On the nose: Strawberry hits you first, but then as your senses get used to the bouquet you start to pick up a note of guava; the guava leading into a green pepper herbaceous note and that in turn falls into lychee fruit. One still moment of sent lingers into the next in this lucid wave of discovery, like when you suddenly know all the answers to a crossword puzzle, one hint leading into the next in an unfolding rhythm so perfect that you don't want to breathe.  But then you do breathe. You swirl your glass and dip your nose in again, and again, and again.


The first sip: Berry washes over your palate, strawberry to be exact, but you quickly question - it could be any number of berries mulling around on the tip of your tongue, you think. But then as the wine warms to your mouth and rolls around you're quickly able to pull out a verse of mineral coming into it's own across the top of your palate. It doesn't dry so much as give a hint of its presence. The mineral gives way to a tropical sensation of guava, or it could even be papaya, but the magical moment happens when you start to wonder, is it guava or is it papaya and as you wonder, that's when the black pepper sprinkles into the mix.


While that first sip is washing its way through, you become aware of the mouthfeel. The juice has gone through total malolactic fermentation, leaving the wine feeling slippery and fatty; round and oily, wonderfully soft, supple and buttery, and just when you're really appreciating this mouthfeel, the tannins creep in - totally unexpected. You seem to completely forget that you're drinking a syrah until these soft tannins layer over the top of your palate, like someone unexpected who has crashed your party, fashionably late.


The Finish: There's a sense of bananas sauteed in butter, with hints of toast mixing in the dryness of the tannins, and it's all intermingling in the linger of mineral. And the greatest part is that the finish seems to glow warm, and then lazily fade into the colors of night over the stretch of several minutes.


What's amazing about "Identity Crisis" is that it hits all the little cues that illustrate the difference between a good wine, and a great wine. Everyone has different tastes in wine, some prefer sweet, some dry. Some people have experienced palates and are going to pick out a profile of flavors, while others are simply going to sip a glass and taste ... well, wine. You like what you like, and that's one of the most fun things about this, a person may think it's the best wine in the world, while another might find the same juice completely vile. However, regardless of personal taste, in order to objectively identify a great wine there are certain bench marks a bottle needs to jump over. Does it have varietal character? Does it have expression? Are the flavors and textures well integrated? Does it keep you guessing - does it have complexity? And most importantly, does it taste like it's connected to the earth where it was grown?  


In the case of "Identity Crisis," you're drinking 89% syrah, 6.5% pinot gris, and 4.5% chardonnay. If you're really keen, you can pick out the aromatic hints of each grape. The bouquet as a whole is an interwoven web of amazing bells and chimes, but these are three completely different grapes with different acidity levels, flavor profiles, and personalities. The balance is that of a mobile, with each grape hanging contently, moving freely and buoyantly in perfect synergy with one another and the result is a constantly changing nose, and ever developing body. What gets me most is the way it tastes like summer in central california. The juice manages to capture the brine in the air rolling off the pacific ocean, the green leaves, crisp riverbed minerals, and the soft, honey and pollen flavors of so many things that seem to be constantly in bloom. 

Damn, this is good stuff.


Pairing:
This is an all purpose, go-to bottle, with enough acidity, tannin and fruit to stand up to just about anything. I wouldn't try to match it to a big steak, however a fillet mignon with beurre blanc or even a bearnaise, I might not be able to resist. Call me crazy, but I also think with the soft acidity, fatty mouth feel, and delicacy of fruit and spice with a hint of mineral tang, "Identity Crisis" might just be a match for sushi. I haven't tried it, but I'm going to find out and let you all know. It's going to pair well with any cheese or fruit, and with the distant vegetal notes you might detect on its finish, this might be that perfect match for artichokes with a dip of butter or hollandaise.  On a slightly more healthy note, consider a salad of peppery arugula, fresh garden tomatoes, with tangerine wedges, olive oil, and a sprinkle of feta.  Coconut curry; grilled salmon with a relish of mango, avocado & cilantro; backyard grilled chicken with buttery rich potato salad.

THE WOLFTRAP, BLEND - $10

The Wolftrap - 2010, Boekenhoutskloof Franschhoek, Cape of Good Hope, South Africa


People say different things about reading the "legs" of the wine when you swirl your glass. Some say that the definition of the legs will indicate the amount of alcohol, others say it'll offer a preview of the body of the wine. The most common feeling is that smell and taste are the only ways to judge a wine.  I think I'll have to agree with all three. When I swirled my ruby glass of The Wolftrap, what I saw was a sheeting, and then slowly, after a moment, extremely defined legs began to form indicating higher alcohol content (14.5%).  However, I wasn't swirling the wine so I could look at the legs, but rather I was trying to get a better look at the color - while the color density itself seems rather light, upon closer inspection it would almost appear as if there was a shadow looming at the core of the glass. Not an unfiltered cloud, mind you, just a sort of mysterious shadow that's there when you look at it, but then when you try to get a better look, it vanishes.


I suppose that's to be expected. I was looking for an affordable yet interesting bottle, and when I found this Syrah, Mourvedre, Viognier blend, I couldn't help but feel a little excited. Syrah and Mourvedre are commonly blended in Southern Rhone, as Syrah and Viognier are commonly blended in Northern Rhone, but seldom does one see the three blended together. This wine was either going to be a flop, or fantastic - which is always the case when you're on the hunt for something alluring and unusual, at a reasonable price.


On the nose: A gentle note of cascading flower petal aromas swirl like something there, but not there. It was as if the bouquet itself was making tight, invisible laps around the inside of my glass, similar to a dusty pack of horses rounding a track until finally one pulls ahead as the rest fall in behind in order of strength and voracity. At first you can pick up the black cherry, but then when you close your eyes and allow the bouquet to infiltrate your senses you begin to pick up notes of eucalyptus, butter, and spicy hints of cedar. Just when you think that's all there is to it, you'll be able to pick up glimmers of vanilla bean that glisten in short flashes like light dancing on windblown water.


The first sip: Soft and silky on the palate, the mouth feel of the wine is so light that it almost feels like drinking an idea of cassis. A lucid mist of currant rolls around your tongue with a heavy vapor that dissipates into a dryness that holds like a memory, the way a line in the sand is left when waves roll back from the shore. Speckles of black pepper come to life just before the finish and evolve into a tobacco flavor that reminds me of how the inside of a wooden cigar box smells.


The finish: Creamy and light; a lingering spice hangs like a distant neon sign glowing in the dark with a gentle heat that looks hotter than it is. A tobacco after breath hovers dryly as the tannins lightly coat your palate, offering the suggestion of a chocolate covered Bing cherry.


This medium bodied wine is the perfect weight for summer evenings and lighter, hot weather cuisine. The 65% portion of Syrah is ironed out by the 32% of Mourvedre, softening the round edges and buffing them until smooth. 3% of Viognier added is like the shammy that brings out the shine of a balloon filled with helium creating a wonderfully light and flavorful wine that has tannic structure and complex fruit, but yet remains low in acidity.


PAIRING: 
Buttery and creamy sauces are going to be a natural match, along with chilled lobster. But don't be afraid to put this wine beside grilled chicken, pork or lamb chops. Pasta salad with olive oil, ripe tomatoes, fresh mozzarella and a dash of oregano; or even traditional caprese. For dessert, fresh fruit of any kind with a dollop of creme fraiche, or real whipped cream; black forrest cake; creme brulee.

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.