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.

DEXTER LAKE, BLEND - $15.99

Dexter Lake, 2009 Blend - Matthew Rorick Wines, Mendocino, CA.


It's pretty hard to miss the handlebar mustache that looks as if it was a doodle on the label drawn with a Sharpie. In fact, the first few times I saw it on the shelves, while I noticed it, I simply didn't pay it much mind; but a funny thing happened after my first tasting - obsession.


Dark, inky and opaque with a ruby hue, I took a moment to inspect the wine against a white sheet of paper in an effort to see the full spectrum of pink reflection to looming purple. Habitually swirling the glass and paying faint attention to the escaping fragrances, I found my attention pulled from color to nose, as if being beckoned by the unseen under nose curl of a cartoon finger.


On the nose: The first thing you pick up is the unmistakeable purple smell - violets floating high over the motion of the still spinning wine after you've given the glass a twirl. Along with that purple scent, you also get a slight herbaceous note like a blanket of eucalyptus lazily thrown over a bed of bing cherries. But after you've allowed the juice to settle and the aromas time to lift away from the surface - caught in the inward sloping of the glass - what you pick up is definitely a dark, dried fruit scent. Dates come to mind. And then high up top you start to pick up bits of pepper and spice.


The first sip: Sweet, soft and eluding, there's almost a blueberry note that's both refreshing and delicate, but the fresh sweet of the fruit is quickly pushed out of the way by the tannins. They creep in from the back at first, then the front, then the sides as the fruit becomes an essence quickly dissipating into a notes of clove, tobacco and allspice hovering over the tannic action - like watching fireworks from the viewpoint of the sky.


The finish:  A hot spice lingers in the back of the palate, quickly dissolving into an afterthought of that dried date smell detected on the nose as it lifts, riding the updraft of your breath like a plume of smoke climbing from a small fire.  And then there's the echo making you wonder what you just tasted and searching pictures in your mind for the right flavor descriptor, as the finish holds; holds; holds, then fades away leaving you wanting for another round of the same.


Here's what I can tell you about the blend (and this is my working it out, not a professional opinion, so it may be boring to read): Right off the bat you can pick up the petit verdot ( about 40%) - that's the source of the wonderful purple mist of violet scent, and soft spice that creeps in from the back of the palate. Then there's that deep spice of petite sirah (also about 40%), with it's smoky ripe, dark berry flavors. Both grapes are known for the inky powers of their skins, which is most likely the source of the enchantingly deep purple, opaque color. Now, the third grape in the blend is a bit of a mystery to me.  I asked a wholesale wine rep and he told me once that it was tinto fino, and then again later that it was touriga nacional, so I decided to do a little bit of my own homework. After some research I've discovered that a wine shop in chicago seems to think it's alvarelhao (otherwise known as brancellao, an aromatic grape sometimes used to make vino verde).  Since the mysterious third grape in this blend seems to have a softer acid, doesn't effect the color, adds fruit and notes of distant leather or tobacco, I'm inclined to put my money down that we're tasting young, tempranillo. (Otherwise known as: tinto fino.)


Pairing:
Dexter Lake is going to be best friends with pork chops thrown on the grill, maybe with a traditional dollop of apple sauce on the side. If bar-b-q sauce is in the mix, bring it. The weight of the meat, the sauces, the char, they're all going to blend perfectly. Don't shy away from grilled chicken either; or a steak - there are plenty of tannins to stand up to a nice cut of beef. On the lighter side, consider roasted beets with goat cheese, drizzled with olive oil and a sprinkle of fresh tarragon; or arugula with crumbles of gorgonzola and lemon zest. If you're considering a picnic, and looking for the right cheese, grab a baguette and pick up a triple cream brie, or a light blue cheese with a small jar of fig spread. Also consider cana de cabra (spanish goat cheese) or bucheron (french goat cheese). And for something to cut the creaminess, grab some tapenade - the salty texture will blend wonderfully with the pepper, spice and fruit of this amazing wine.

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.