Buying Wine

Most of you probably already know this...but I adore wine. I drink it every night with dinner (and usually a glass after dinner too). On the weekends, I'll even have a single glass with lunch. When I have dinner parties, we've been known to go through two bottles (or three, depending on the company). So, with the exception of Adam's passion for beer, it's safe to say that ours is a wine-drinking household.

But here's the thing: I don't really have a collection. I usually buy a couple bottles a week from Fresh Direct and sometimes I'll trek over to The Wine Room of Forest Hills, which is one of my favorite places to buy wine. If we're really low, we'll get a ZipCar and drive over to Jersey to the Total Wine. Even then, sometimes I'll buy two bottles of something I know I like but, mostly, I buy a lot of single bottles.

The idea is that I want one of everything so I always have something great to drink with dinner. I rely heavily on What to Drink with What You Eat by Karen Page and Andrew Dornenburg, and few things frustrate me more than when they make a strong recommendation and I don't even have anything close. So I try to diversify when I buy wine.

Recently, though, I ran into a problem. I fell in love with a Rose that I bought at Total Wine a couple months ago. Here it is:

It was so well-balanced and refreshing. It was floral and herbal, but it also managed to be dry and grounded. I adored it.

But now what? I only bought one bottle. In Jersey. Wait until I go back? But then it'll be October or November and they most likely won't have the crazy-awesome selection of Rose. Go online? But then do I order six bottles? Go for the full case? Do I love it that much?

I also had a similar dilemma with Cubanisimo wines recently. As you'll recall from my previous post, I really love their Rose and their Pinot Noir. So I went to the Cubanisimo website to look into buying a couple bottles. It made sense to buy at least 6 bottles because of their discount. But my grand total was going to be $120+...and I couldn't bring myself to click the "Buy" button. I mean, $20 for a bottle is no big deal. But dropping more than a hundred? There's a mental hurdle that I can't seem to get over.

I've done a lot of wine reading (The Battle for Wine and Love...Red, White, and Drunk All Over...Educating Peter...The Wine Guy...these are some of my faves) and I don't feel any less confused on this issue. Does it make more sense to buy a half-case or full-case of something I love? But then I risk a lack of space and funds to have a wider selection. Or does it make better sense to diversify to make sure I always have the perfect wine-food pairing on hand? Have any thoughts on this issue?

Eat, drink, and when in doubt drink bubbly...

La Parisienne

I'm certain I've mentioned this before, but I'm a bit of a Francophile. I've always wanted to be French: dress like a Frenchwoman, speak like a Frenchwoman, and eat & drink like a Frenchwoman. It's the simple glamor of it all, the Audrey Hepburn of it all. It's why I loved From Here You Can't See Paris so much or Madame Pamplemousse and Her Incredible Edibles so much. Or French Woman Don't Get Fat, which I credit with inspiring me to eat and live better.

And then there is the "conversion experience" (which I wrote about here, among other places): Julia had it, Alice had it, MFK Fisher had it. All of these women traveled to France, at various times in the country's history, and were never the same again, having experienced la joie vivre, la belle France, la vie en rose, and all that stuff.

So imagine my thrill when Cup of Jo directed me to Yves Saint Laurent's new Parisienne website and blog*. Yes, it's a marketing campaign, but it's a brilliant and inspiring one.

What does this have to do with food or children's books, you ask? Well, they have a blog post about eating on a plane like a Parisienne - how simple to stop by a cheese shop and get something non-stinky, along with some bread. Take it on the plane. How hard is that? Buy wine from flight attendant. So simple. If you don't want to buy wine on the plane because it's overpriced and not all that good, you can pull an Alice Feiring and pack your own vials!

Along with the food, the blog gives advice on packing like a Parisienne and perfecting the messy French knot in your hair. The model has long straight hair and I bitterly thought that, once again, the curly-haired of us were going to be left out. But it totally works on my hair - I've worn the messy French knot for the past three days. Though, truth be known, I need to take a break from it because now I'm just feeling sorta lazy.

Now, if only they'd teach me how to tie my scarves beautifully instead of just haphazardly wrapping them around my neck...

Eat, drink, and channel your inner Frenchwoman.

(Photo by Anna Wolf)

* Careful with the video on the main Parisienne page - it ain't exactly work appropriate.

REVIEW: Red, White, and Drunk All Over: A Wine-Soaked Journey from Grape to Glass by Natalie MacLean

I read French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano almost four years ago, and it changed my life. And I’m not just saying that – it really did. 20 pounds lighter and a couple years later, I read Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan. Again, it opened my eyes to a whole new way of experiencing and thinking about food. I argue that if I had read them in reverse order, Omnivore’s Dilemma would have meant very little to me; I would not have experienced the same level of connection, and there certainly would not have been the lightning-bolt moment of clarity and epiphany that I felt reading these two books the way I did.

Well, this is what happened when I read Red, White, and Drunk All Over by Natalie MacLean*. Natalie MacLean is my Mireille Guiliano of wine. Unfortunately, I read this after I read The Battle for Wine and Love or How I Saved the World from Parkerization (my review, which I just re-read and didn't realize I made a Michael Pollan comparison there as well) by Alice Feiring. Alice Feiring is the Michael Pollan of wine (though not on quite the same scholarly level as Pollan). I read these books in the complete wrong order. Now that I have finished Red, White, and Drunk All Over (I love typing that title), I should go back and read Battle for Wine and Love again. But I don’t know if I can undo my mistake…

I’m going to make a bold statement: Red, White, and Drunk All Over is a universally accessible book about wine. Anyone can read it and they’ll understand what the heck MacLean is talking about. You’ll walk away with a better of understanding of wine merchants, of the Champagne region, of wine writers and critics, of how to host a wine tasting party. Will you walk away with a better understanding of wine itself? Perhaps not. If anything, this book is the precursor to bigger, bolder books about wine because this one opens you up to everything you don’t know. It whets your appetite, if you will, so that you want to take it further. You want to read more and learn more. In other words, it’s the perfect introductory book.

MacLean has an incredibly accessible writing style: she is Everywoman. She writes in a way that makes you say, “I want to go winetasting with this woman! She’d be a blast!” She doesn’t come off as a wine snob in any way, and she’s the only wine writer I’ve come across that has basically said, “Yeah, I like to drink, to actually swallow wine, and feel that warmth from a second (or third) glass.”** Thank god someone finally said it! Additionally, I appreciated that while MacLean is teaching you something, she is also rolling her eyes at the pretensions and established hoo-haw of the wine world. For instance, she attends a demonstration by Georg Reidel, of the Reidel Glass company. While she is in the midst of arguing that the wine glass you use really does matter, she is also poking good-natured fun at Reidel for referring to the wine glass as his “precision tool” and describing “the velocity of the wine entering the mouth.” Again, though, while you’re sniggering and giggling with MacLean (and ogling Reidel’s handsome good looks), you’re also learning about what it is that makes wine glasses important.

I don’t want to make you think you won’t learn about wine itself while reading this – don’t worry, you will. I highlighted the heck out of my copy. I liked this passage: “The color tells us how old the wine is. Young whites are usually green at the edges and become a deeper yellow or gold with time; reds are usually purple or ruby in youth and turn to garnet or brick in age.” That’s knowledge you can use tonight at dinner: pour yourself that glass of cabernet franc and take a look at the color. MacLean also says it’s not beneficial to hold your glass up to the light (guilty!); better to hold it up against a white tablecloth or white piece of paper to gauge the color correctly. See, this is all useful, practical information you can use now. However, as I mentioned before, this book does make you long for more info, which is in no way a fault of the book; in fact, I consider this a compliment. For instance, “deeper yellow or gold with time”…well, my glass of chardonnay already exhibits those colors (whereas my sauvignon blanc is the palest gold). But my chardonnay is only a 2005 bottle. So what’s up? This is where you’ll really want to delve into further reading and research, which any good introductory book on a subject will make you want to do.

On a side note, MacLean folds in some amusing supplementary information. For instance, she says that “corks flying out of champagne bottles have been clocked at fifty miles an hour.” Additionally, she has a lovely bit about the history and lost art of the toast. She shares that in ancient Greece, “toasts usually involved kissing up to the gods first. You looked up to the sky, then spilled some wine on the ground as an offering.” I love that, especially since we do a toast every single night at our dinner table. We’re a secular family so say no prayers, but we do a toast. Sometimes we toast “To the end of the week!” or sometimes we’ll have a pork roast and toast “To the pig!” as a way of honoring the animal that lost its life so that we could receive nourishment. Anyway, I’m digressing… I really enjoyed this information that, while not providing deeper knowledge of wine, served to increase our appreciation of the ceremonies behind drinking it.

Red, White, and Drunk All Over: A Wine-Soaked Journey from Grape to Glass is recommended highly for the novice wine drinker. A thoroughly enjoyable, amusing read!

* Check out her website - it's professional and informative

** My words, not MacLean’s.

REVIEW (sort of): The Battle for Wine and Love by Alice Feiring

Anyone else out there read a foodie book that changed your entire perspective? What book changed your life? I don’t use this phrase lightly. There are only two books that have held this distinction for me: French Women Don’t Get Fat by Mireille Guiliano and The Omnivore’s Dilemma by Michael Pollan.

Perhaps choosing Guiliano’s book seems a bit trite, but don’t knock it until you’ve read it. Additionally, I understand this book isn’t for everyone. For me, though, it was a revelation. My passion for food, my openness to all its joys, started with this book three years ago.

The Omnivore’s Dilemma took what I learned in French Women to the next level. What both authors advocate is a consciousness regarding what goes into your body. What are you eating? Where is it from? Think before you put it in your mouth! Do you really want to eat that? Really? Or are you on automatic pilot? Do you even care? Whereas French Women tapped into my passions, Omnivore’s Dilemma connected to that part of me that is a lifelong learner and seeker.

Why do I bring these books up? Because I may have just discovered a third book. I use the word “may” because my future is yet untold, and it remains to be seen how much impact Alice Feiring’s The Battle for Wine and Love or How I Saved the World from Parkerization will ultimately have in my life. Having finished the book, I feel a beginning. I will – and have already started – drinking wine with a newfound consciousness, thanks to Alice. And anytime there is a gained consciousness, Life Changes are certain to follow.

Truly, if you love wine, this is a Must Read. That said, Alice’s voice and opinion aren’t for everyone. If you’ve read her blog, then you’re already familiar with her tendency to ruffle feathers, particularly among California wine growers and their corporate sponsors. Anytime there are corporate feathers ruffled*, you really have to pay attention. Clearly, Alice has touched upon something important and I’m paying attention.

In a nutshell, for us non-wine writer and non-wine critic types, Alice makes a pitch for natural wines. No, not necessarily organic because, as we all know, “organic” has been adopted by corporate America and the definition and philosophy behind it has been somewhat, if not entirely, bastardized. That bottle of Yellowtail corked in your fridge…that Mirrasou Pinot Noir I drink at TGI Friday’s to get me through the horrific experience of being there…the Hogue Fumé Blanc that I thought I liked…

Forget about ‘em. Unless you like science experiments. Alice exposes (okay, she exposed it for me, anyway) just how fake all those “flavors” are. Wood chips thrown into stainless steel barrels, vines grown in laboratories, vines “bred” and “selected” for certain flavors, additives galore to try to get good ratings from critcs…yep, your wine has most likely been subjected to all these procedures and more. Read the book – Alice will tell you about it. Maybe you won’t be shocked by this, but I was. I have actually walked into wine stores and said to the salesperson: “I like tobacco, chocolate, vanilla, oaky flavors…What have you got?” Silly me, I actually thought these were all natural. You know, like, part of the soil and shit. Nope. Chances are exceedingly high that I’m drinking a fake wine.

Now, as I wrote in an email to Ms. Feiring, I do still like all those flavors I listed above. But at what cost? Do I want that at the cost of authenticity? Giving up what is real? Is 15% alcohol content really what I’m after? The answer, for me, is a resounding no. As Alice points out, some of the natural wines can taste…um…a little “funky”…but I’ll take that. I’d rather tasty the funky earth over some fabricated approximation of the real thing.

I know, I’m on a tirade, right? Does anything I’ve just blogged seem remotely interesting to you? Then pick up the damn book and read it. I have a wine source where I can get a couple of the wines that Alice mentions in the book – I’ll try to remember to post my impressions of the natural wines**. Either way, though, I do sense a personal revolution in the way I taste, enjoy, and shop for wine, just as Michael Pollan and Mireille Guiliano did that for me in their books.

Eat, drink, and taste the earth

* Wanna get a feeling of the backlash? Here's Alice's Op-Ed article in the L.A. Times. Here is one of many responses to her article. In the response, Matthew DeBord decries natural wines stating that, among other things, that natural wines have "weird herby flavors." I ask you, fellow foodies, when did the flavor of herbs become "weird"? I think, perhaps, Mr. DeBord has forgotten that wines come from grapes...grown in the earth...kind of like herbs... Thank goodness Ms. Feiring reminded me of this!

**FYI - the wines being sent to me are all in the $40 and under range. Granted, one of the wines Alice mentioned in her book was going to cost me a cool $150...I bypassed that one for now. On the other hand, perhaps if I paid $150 for the wine I drink with my dinner I would drink it with a greater consciousness and respect. Regardless, $150 is ridiculously steep for me right now.

Back to the Blogosphere: the Food Version

I have felt like a ship without a rudder lately, for silly reasons, most of them inconsequential. Nevertheless, it is that sort of feeling that makes me want to cook…and do nothing else. I want to plant myself in my crappy kitchen and cook all day, trying out recipes, experimenting with no recipes, being creative, finding treasures hiding in the back of my freezer. Thus grounding me and making me feel more connected to my own life. I have eaten dinner out for the past two nights, and I can’t articulately express how excited I am to go home this evening and return to my kitchen. Eating out for extended periods does not suit me well at all.

My faithful readers will know how I aspire to write like Lucy Vanel over at Lucy’s Kitchen Notebook. She has another post up about a market in Lyon: Marché Fermier at Place Carnot. I don’t think I’ve ever seen such crooked, rotund, lovely asparagus and I’m longing to try the cream cheese tart. But what struck me was her next post, Diving for Pearls. I was touched by Lucy’s respect for history and her keen sense of nostalgia (without being cloying at all). I just find this sort of perspective lacking here in the U.S. – do you agree? My cookie sheet is rusting – I’ll buy a new one. Wet crumbling cardboard box at a flea market – I don’t want to know why the heck it’s wet. Dilapidated house too much work – raze it and build something new and shiny in its place. I distinctly feel that this is the country I live in, that this is the norm, and I often find myself swept into this way of thinking. But I'm pausing now to re-evaluate. As I type this, I look down at my shiny new cocktail ring – it’s fabulous and fun but I have no connection to it. But the earrings in my ears? They’re these tiny gold medallions that my mom wore for years, and I believe my grandmother wore them before her. On a recent trip, my mom bestowed them to me. And I understand exactly what Lucy is talking about.















And armed with this sense of history and nostalgia and feeling protected by the past, let me tell you about Cooked Books’ really cool post about A Soldier's Simple Cooking Recipes for Cooking in the Trenches and Billets (with vocabulary of French words). Learn how to make a Trench Cake! In library school, during the first hour of my one and only archives class, I discovered archival studies weren’t for me at all. But Rebecca makes me wish that it had been.

I don’t know if I should share this info but, what the hell, it’s Friday and I’m feeling bold. Remember I whined a couple days ago about Alice Feiring’s book not coming out until May 19th? I know, I was totally whining. But seriously, I’ve had that book on my Amazon wishlist for two months already! Anyway, my darling school & library contact at Harcourt read my mini-tantrum and is sending the book to me before the 19th!!! Really! It is probably uncool to admit this but that’s the first time that sort of thing has happened to me – I say I want something on my blog and someone says, “Okay! I’ll send it to you!” I’m starting to feel like Betsy! Thank you, Ellen, for totally making my week!

Lastly, I read a nice little article in my Saveur email, giving easy instructions on how to cook ramps. I’ve never tried ramps – shocking, I know. But I’ll begin seeking them out now since it’s driving me bonkers that there’s something out there that I haven’t tried but is so easy to prepare.

Bon appètit!

Taking a bit of a break

Sorry for my absence, all - I've had looming deadlines, a sick daughter (always!), and my mother-in-law visiting so my blog has taken a bit of a backseat. Look for me again later this week or next week.

In the meantime, I'm still reading so I give you this link to Alice Feiring - it's an early review for her book The Battle for Wine and Love: or How I Saved the World from Parkerization. If you haven't already fallen in love with Alice's writing, then you're about to. Unfortunately, mortals such as myself have to wait until May-friggin-19th to read the book. Boo.

And courtesy of two of my favorite guys, Bill Barnes and Gene Ambaum, aka "the Unshelved guys":

EDIT: So I was at my local Barnes & Noble today (4.26) and saw Battle for Wine and Love. I read two different sources that told me the pub date was 5.19.08. So either my sources are wrong...or my local B&N is in trouble! Nevertheless, I'm waiting for my copy from the lovely Ellen.