February/March Wine Review
Starting our study with picks from some of the greatest winemaking regions in France (and one Californian bottle)
I approach wine the same way I approach food: with eagerness and curiosity. The origins of both intrigue me, knowledge of which has the power to greatly influence my experience of its consumption. Seeing how a once bare patch of earth can yield bright, crisp greens or vibrant squash is nothing short of a miracle, as is the breadmaking process that, quite literally, transforms flour, salt, and water into something aromatic, flavorful, and nutritious. With this awareness, it is hard not to feel incredibly grateful every time I come to my plate.
I have never had the privilege to witness the winemaking process, but I’ve read enough to reel me in. The labor, faith, and ingenuity the process requires—from the planting to harvesting to fermentation to bottling—captivates my imagination. Every time I drink wine, images of various natural landscapes come to mind: vineyards, rocky hillsides, shrubbery, cliffs by the sea, underground caverns. The wine evokes memories of fruits, herbs, spices, rooms and places I’ve been to before. It sounds romantic, but these evocations are not fantastical; the same aroma compounds that make, for example, a strawberry smell like a strawberry, can be found in wine. Qualities of the earth the grapes were grown in, the vats or barrels they ferment in, the winemakers that handle the wine, all somehow find themselves in the bottle. It blows my mind.
Admittedly, I’ve only been able to really appreciate and enjoy wine the way I do now after gaining knowledge through books, podcasts, and tastings. Before that, I drank wine simply because I thought it was delicious, which is a perfectly good reason as any, but soon I was eager to learn more. Wine, however, is not very intuitive—at least not at first—as there are several fundamental concepts that one needs to understand in order to contemplate about what’s in their glass. It requires certain study, which is partly what surrounds wine with an air of exclusivity. Pretention and elitism comprise the other part of this exclusive reputation, unfortunately.
As part of our self-study, Michael and I have committed to taking better notes whenever we open a bottle. This practice should help us develop a better sense of what we like and don’t like, and I figured those who share the same enthusiasm for fermented grape juice may enjoy our observations, so these reviews may come more frequently. Wine is best enjoyed with others, after all. Recommendations are welcome.
2017 Famille Hugel Classic Gewurtztraminer. Alsace.
Nose of pear, rainwater. Dry, refreshing, stony, light spice. Very light in color, almost white. Prior to this bottle, we usually went for red wine out of habit, and we thought this gewurtztraminer was a lovely foray into white wines. (Michael and I liked it, though neglected to take more notes.)
2020 Trimbach Riesling. Alsace.
Smelled like spring water. Fresh and crisp, faint notes of fruit, specifically green apple. It tasted sour at first — realized later it was likely because I had just eaten a donut — but revealed a smoother, citrusy, sweeter side when paired with a spinach and mushroom stir-fry. It lingers slightly on the mouth, like honey. It tastes like spring. Light straw in color, just a little darker than the gewurtztraminer. This wasn’t particularly memorable, especially on its own, as I noted in my February review: “The riesling was incredible when paired with [bouillabaisse], but quite unpleasant and sour on its own. The viognier was more consistent; it was a great white either way, but didn’t quite exalt the bouillabaisse the way the Riesling did.”
2020 Le Paradou Viognier. Provence.
Smelled like my sourdough starter, sweet and tart. A crisp and easy drink, very summery, like when the kitchen is fragrant with almost overripe fruits. Great value. It was recommended to us by the sommelier at the store who also noted that the wine was imported by Eric Solomon, sort of a rockstar in the wine world according to him. This bottle is a promising introduction to his portfolio. It is a good go-to white I would be confident enough to serve to guests any day.
2017 Chateau le Puy (Famille Amoreau) Emilien. Saint-Émilion.
Michael and I had an incredible experience drinking this bottle produced by biodynamic winemakers in a centuries-old estate. The initial impression of its aromas was unpleasant — like raw leather, damp fabric, strong oceanic wind. In the mouth, it had grippy tannins, a very full mouthfeel, which was interesting given that it only had 13% alcohol. Notes of cherries, black currants, wet undergrowth. Mangroves, even. Dried orange. Tasted sweeter as time went on. A touch of iron. The wine had a brown-orange tinge and visible sediments. Was floored by how complex this bottle was; it kept evolving, softening, blooming through the evening. Very eager to discover more wines of a similar style.
2016 Silver Oak Cabernet Sauvignon. Napa Valley.
Would you be up for a glass of wine? Michael texted me one night as he was coming home from work with a bottle he received as a gift that day. In truth I was quite sleepy, but it was the eve of our weekend, and I figured it would be nice to start it with a good drink.
When Michael arrived, I asked him not to show me the label of the bottle so I could taste it blindly. The nose was aggressive, bold: tobacco, licorice, and very, very strong oak. I declared it an American wine, likely Californian, though I ruled out cabernet sauvignon because of a lightness in the aroma, the color, the viscosity. It was a pleasant drink, tasted much like it smelled, and had a good, medium length, a chalky finish. Funnily, my assessment was accurate except for the varietal; I was fooled by the lightness of the wine, as my experience with Californian cabernet sauvignon in the past has been much heavier.
Overall, I thought it was an enjoyable wine, but sterile. It was so consistent throughout that it bored after the first few sips. I imagine that a hearty meal would have elevated the experience, but on its own, this wine is not something I’d reach for, especially given the price.