Riesling Riesling Riesling!!!

Today was a festival of Rieslings.

Luckily Steve was feeling better and we were able to go to two different wineries for tastings.

They couldn't have been more different from each other.

The first place we went was Maximin Grunhaus. The website declared that they were open for tastings from 8am-12pm, and so we just showed up at around 11:15. We knocked on the door, and walked around the whole property, but no one was there.

We decided to try somewhere else, and as we drove away, my brilliant hubby observed that the sign at the driveway for the winery actually pointed up toward another driveway just up the hill. This driveway took us to another side of the property with an open cargo door in which you could see crates, bottles, cases of wine, etc.

Inside we found one lone guy, in his working overalls, who led us into a small office with a table and chairs. He brought us glasses, a brochure and price list and told us we could taste whatever we wanted, at no charge. All told, there were 64 wines from which to sample. We tasted about 10. And he opened whatever we asked him for, he never said we couldn't taste something. He even opened a half bottle of their wonderful Icewine, which they were selling for 75.00 euros a half-bottle.

He spoke very little English and we speak essentially no German, so it was impossible to get any great details about the wine maker, or winery itself, but I guess the point is for the wines to speak for themselves.

We tasted all Rieslings, from two different vineyards, and at varying levels of ripeness. The wines ranged from dry to sweet. It was interesting to taste that the wines from one vineyard were far more mineral-tasting then the wines from the other. Yet another perfect illustration of Terroir.

After that we went over to Dr. Loosen Winery. This was a completely different animal, with a formal table set up, and an English-speaking host. We were there with another American family, the parents who currently live in Illinois and their son and his wife who live in Huntington Beach, CA. The son and wife were, unfortunately dull as dirt, but the mother was lively, as was our host.

He gave us 9 wines to taste from almost as many different vineyards, each of which has a different soil composition. There are blue slate vineyards, grey slate, and red volcanic soil (this red vineyard is called Wurzgarten, which means spice garden, and imparts a slight spicy aroma to the wines).

Ultimately, there are a lot of subtle differences in all of these wines: from the sweetness levels, to the exact types of fruits and mineralities, but I can generalize and say that these wines were very bright, fresh, acidic, with a nice balance of fruit and minerality. Overall I would say the fruits ranged from green apple and gooseberry, citrus pith and peel, kumquat, and green plum to unripe pineapple. A couple of the wines were surprisingly tropical. And they age these wines on the lees, so a few of them had that pronounced toast crumb aroma.

I also learned a fun fact: I had noticed that almost all of the vines in this area are trellised upright in sort of a tall stalk, and I asked him why this was. He told me that they do "single stalk training" with these vines because it allows them to plant the vines closer together and therefore get more vines per hectare. They can do that here because with the super steep slopes that the vines grow on, there is access to sunlight even when vines are closer together.

He did say that they have to be careful to not let the vines grow too tall, otherwise the plant is spending more of its energy on growing and less on producing excellent fruit.

On a completely different note, please observe the photo. That is the toilet in our hotel room. Have you ever seen anything more odd? I just don't quite understand the theory behind it. It's like a bench....but with a toilet in the middle of it. It feels very bizarre, sitting on it, and your body has this initial reaction like "wait, I can't pee here...this is a bench!!"

It reminds me of a bad dream I would have when I was a kid, in which I would be sleeping on a toilet (as one does), and would start to pee, only to suddenly realize I wasn't on a toilet at all, after which I would start awake to realize with dismay that I had wet the bed.

To the left of the toilet is a ceramic jar filled with wine corks, and a book. Now, I understand why the book is there, but what on earth are they expecting me to do with the wine corks while I'm sitting there? There are only a couple of things I can think of, and none of those are particularly appealing. Or G-rated.

Wine for Unusual Proposals

As I mentioned in my last post, Steve and I are planning the mother of all trips, and in preparation for the Italy leg of our travels, I have enrolled myself in an Italian class. So far I have had two lessons, and I can now say various combinations of the verbs to be and to have, as well as the phrases: "My name is Jocelyn", "the cat is white" and "the car is red". Going forward, I will have to learn how to say "I do not want McDonald's" and "I did not vote for George Bush".

Steve and I in the course of our 9 years together have gone on quite a few fun trips, the main one of which was a big camping trip out west to Oregon, Idaho, Yellowstone and the Tetons among other places. The idea of me camping was something that surprised almost everyone who knew me, not least of all me because I am not really what you would call an outdoorsy girl normally.

I don't love dirt or being dirty, I tend to be very sensitive to bad smells and I have a bit of a fear of pit toilets, mainly because they are often disgusting, but also because you can never really be sure what is down there, and I imagine being attacked from below by a giant poo monster or some other beast of fecal origins.

But to my surprise I loved it. I came to enjoy not showering for several days at a time, I loved nothing more than sitting with Steve by the campfire at night, cooking corn, sweet potatoes, chicken and steak over it, and then afterward staring into the flames for hours on end; and amazingly, at the National Park Campgrounds the pit toilets were spotless and odor-free. I even managed, for the first time in my life, to pee outside while on hikes.

On one such hike, Steve and I had climbed six miles, essentially up a mountain. After a bit of crying (me) and a bit of cajoling (Steve), we finally reached the summit, and before us lay the most extraordinary views I have ever seen, and not another person in sight. Before starting back down the mountain, I made Steve hide behind a small, abandoned, stone Ranger's hut while I relieved myself, because if there's one thing i don't do, it's pee in front of people, not even my then-boyfriend.

So Steve obliged and hid behind the hut, assuring me that he wouldn't look at me. So I squatted down to do my business, staring down to make sure I didn't accidentally wee on my shoes, when I felt it: that feeling you get when someone is watching you. I looked up, and sure enough, not only was Steve watching me, but he was also taking my picture.

Outraged, I huffily flounced past him on my way down the mountain, when he grabbed me by the arm, stood me up on one of the rocks, and asked me to marry him. It was kind of hard to be mad about the whole wee-wee-photo debacle after that. Well played, Steve. That's one damn good way to get yourself out of an argument, that's for sure.

So, my Wine for Unusual Proposals is a Greenwood Ridge Vineyards 2006 Late Harvest White Riesling, because, come on, who doesn't love a Riesling, and a dessert, botrytis Riesling to boot? It's all the things a lovely dessert wine should be: peachy, apricot-ey, and honeysuckley, with a sweetness that is offset by some bright acidity. And at $22 a bottle, it's a steal!

Wine for Feeling Overwhelmed

Maybe it's natural for this to happen in the home stretch of anything, but I am just feeling overwhelmed and to be honest, a bit discouraged. We had our Germany/Eastern Europe test today, and while the theory portion went fine, the blind tasting was a bit of a disaster. It seems like just when I start to feel confident in my ability to pick out some of these wines, we have a test like this where I feel like I have no idea what I'm doing, like all this information is creating a massive tornado in my head, and I am struggling to pull one or two bits out of it to try and piece together something that makes sense.

I thought the white wine in today's tasting was a Riesling from the United States, and I thought the red wine was an Australian Shiraz. Neither of these was remotely right. The white was in fact a Chenin Blanc from France, and the red was a Cabernet Sauvignon also from France.

The girl who sits next me also thought the red was an Australian Shiraz and that the white wine was a Riesling from Germany, and she has worked at a restaurant/wine bar for many years, so I'm not completely out of my mind. I don't actually think anyone in class got both of the wines right, even the guy who is part of a wine making family, and who has been tasting different wines for over 15 years, which just goes to show that this stuff is pretty freakin hard.

I keep reminding myself that I only need to get 60% in each of the exam components (theory, tasting, service) to pass, but it is in this last week and a half of class leading up to the exam that I need a vote of confidence, and not being able to figure out either wine just leaves me feeling at loose ends.

Now that I think about it, it's not so different from the last couple weeks of rehearsal before a play opens. People forget their lines and blocking, something always goes spectacularly wrong in tech and dress rehearsal, no one feels like the play has been rehearsed enough, the sets aren't done, the costumes aren't done, people walk around like zombies from all the stress, worry and lack of sleep, but then somehow, miraculously, on opening night, everything just seems to fall into place, almost effortlessly, and the show, as they say, literally goes on.

Let's hope that is what will happen for me on testing day. I should be able to recommend a red and white wine to you today, but apparently, I don't know what they are. Sorry.

Wine for France - Day 1

So I have decided to try writing new posts every day, Monday through Friday, and plan to make each post a bit shorter. I think this will be easier both for me writing them and you reading them. Let me know what you think!

Back to class after the long weekend to rain, rain, and more rain. Driving in the rain can be a drag, mostly because nobody seems to modify their driving at all ("I don't need to slow down, it's just water, man up!"). In fact, commuting in general can be a bit of a snooze, but luckily I have discovered the joy of listening to books on CD. I got three John Grisham books on CD for the low low price of $20. That's hours of listening pleasure! It would be the perfect solution to the grind of commuting if not for the battle that is being waged between my GPS and my John Grisham.

The audio quality of the books is not so hot (this is probably why I could get three books for $20), so I have to bump up the volume quite a bit to hear it. Now my GPS is downright bossy at the best of times ("Turn left ahead", "TURN LEFT", "proceed on route 280 South", "bear right", "speed up" , "slow down", "stop singing!", "those aren't the right words", "good, god, woman, what have you been eating?!"), but when I am listening to my books, she cuts in with directions at a glass-breaking volume that causes me to feel like I am about to be smacked by a ruler-wielding nun. I fear the GPS is going to go HAL on me, and suddenly take complete control of the car, driving me to some unknown destination until I decide to abandon my audio books and agree that she is the only one who is allowed to talk to me.

But I digress. I am back to class, where today we began France. As my teacher himself said "France is a beast". The world of French wines is so detailed and complex that we are spending 42 hours on it. Today we discussed the wines of the Alsace region, which include such delights as Pinot Gris, Riesling, Gewurztraminer, and Muscat. The most unusual wine we tasted today was a Domaine Zind Humbrecht Pinot Gris Clos Jebsal SGN 2003. The SGN label refers to a wine that has been made from grapes that were rotting with a fungus called Botrytis. If you see a bunch of grapes with this fungus on them, you might think they look like something you found when you were younger, say when you opened your lunchbox after a school vacation to find that forgotten baggie of grapes you mom had packed for you two weeks ago. In short, they look like something a haz-mat team should come and remove. The last thing that would have occurred to you would have been "Yum,these will make delicious wine."

But make delicious wine they do. This SGN designation can only be given to Noble Grapes (Pinot Gris, Gewurztraminer, Riesling and Muscat) that have the botrytis rot. This "noble rot" tends to only occur in very small amounts and only in exceptional years. The particular SGN wine we tasted today was a dark almost orange color, with a full mouth feel and a honey, dried apricot flavor, and it was sweet without being cloying. It was definitely unlike anything I have ever tasted. It is definitely worth a try for a special occasion.

Well, so much for a shorter post. I will try again tomorrow!

Wine for a Champagne-Opening Meltdown

So I am getting in the groove now: I wake up at 6:15, and do about 20 minutes of yoga. I am more surprised than anyone by this, as I do not normally consider myself to be a yoga person. I love the idea of it, but it's just not something that my body naturally takes a shine to. I am, to put it very mildly, a bit on the tight side. My hamstrings are so tight it is a wonder I am still upright, and the muscles around my shoulders are so knotted and tense, they are often mistaken for bone. Really, it is only a matter of time before I am permanently in the fetal position. Massage therapists who work on me will often poke around my back and shoulders and say things like: "Wow, that's some tension you've got there" or "That shouldn't be there" or simply "Whoa". So when it comes to yoga, my body tends to have a "I'm sorry, you want me to put my legs where, while my arms do what? Yeah, good luck with that" reaction. I have been doing some kickboxing DVDs lately, and I enjoy them, but there is something about getting up at 6am and whipping myself into a frenzy of "I punch you in the face and kick you in the groin" just didn't feel right. So yoga it is.

By 9am I am in the car. Don't ask me why it takes me 2 1/2 hours to get ready in the morning. It just does. I am getting used to driving the hour to class and back. And I am getting used to filling the gas tank every 4 days. It's really not that long a trip, it's just that our car gets about six miles to the gallon. Yes, I have one of those cars: it's big, it's loud and it could not by any stretch of the imagination be called fuel-efficient. Let me just say in my defense that when Steve and I got it we only drove about 6,000 miles a year. Now, with this class, I am doing our yearly mileage in three months. We did not plan on using this car as a daily commuting car. It is not your zippy, down-to-earth, get-you-where-you-need-to-go car. It's more like a living room on wheels.

Now before you give me a hard time about SUVs and start blaming me for global warming, let me just say two words to you: moose farts. That's right. Moose. Farts. Allow me to explain: I was leafing through a Lonely Planet travel guide to Norway, and I came upon the startling statistic that an adult moose will fart and burp its way to a methane output that is the equivalent of driving about 8,500 miles in a car. So see, that farting moose is causing a lot more damage than I am. The clear solution is to shoot all these gaseous moose so we can drive our big-ass cars guilt-free. That sounds like solid Sarah Palin-esque logic to me!

But to get back to wine, class continues to bombard me with information. And last week, though I hate to admit it, I had my first wine-related anxiety attack. As some of you may know, I am prone to a bit of anxiousness. Much of this is related to my assumption that something terrible is bound to happen. I come by this honestly, since both my parents are, I firmly believe, the ghost-writers of those Worst-Case Scenario books. Let me give you two examples: my father used to hate us running around in grass in our bare feet (in our own backyard) because we could step on glass and cut our feet. These cuts would become infected, turn gangrenous and force us to have our legs amputated. And my mother, in trying to teach me not to run or laugh with gum or food in my mouth, drew me a diagram of the throat and included graphic details of food or gum getting lodged in my windpipe. This would then, she assured me, be followed by my turning blue and dying.

Now I can hardly argue with their logic; these things of course can happen. My father being a surgeon has no doubt exposed him to all manner of horrible and freakish things that can happen to people. It also probably has given him a slightly skewed idea of how often these freakish things actually happen. In any event, the combination of my own nature and a slightly alarmist upbringing makes me inclined to create very odd and dangerous scenarios in my head. So it was that when David our teacher was showing us how to properly open a champagne bottle and filling us in on the reasons why certain measures were necessary, I began to have images of my champagne cork flying out and breaking the massive glass window of the class wine cellar, shattering it beyond repair and causing thousands of dollars worth of wine to overheat. I also imagined the cork shooting into not only my eye, but also into the eyes of everyone else in my class. The best scenario of all was the one in which the cork flew off the bottle with such force that it actually took my thumb with it. That's right. I was sitting there in class, hyperventilating at the thought of this champagne cork actually blowing my thumb clean off.

So when it came time for all of us, in groups of five, to get up in front of the class and open bottles of champagne, I couldn't do it. I actually was too freaked out to do it. This somehow managed to go unnoticed by my teacher, but when I got home I had Steve stand with me for moral support, while I tried to open a bottle from our fridge. I couldn't do it then either! I tried, I really did. I cut off the foil, I put my napkin over the cork and held it with my thumb the way David showed us. As I loosened the wire cage, I kept by thumb on the cork and my hand on the neck of the bottle and with my other hand, began to twist the bottle as we had been taught. And nothing happened. I turned and turned and turned, and nothing. And Steve was watching me, and I was growing more and more panicked, imagining that the more I kept turning, the more the pressure was building to Vesuvian heights, and the more likely the whole bottle was to just explode. I froze. I begged Steve to help me, and he carefully took the bottle from me, keeping his thumb on the cork as I insisted he do, and he gently twisted and twisted and the cork came off gently and beautifully, with barely a sound. The bastard. It turns out I had kind of misunderstood what I was supposed to do with the cork-hand, and while I had had my thumb over the cork just as I was supposed to, I did not also have one of my fingers around the cork, so in fact all I was doing was turning the bottle around in my hand, without actually twisting the cork at all. oops.

Luckily, the third time was a charm, and I managed to open a bottle of Champagne with a few twists and no pop at all. I am proud to say that I didn't break any windows or take out any light fixtures or eyes, and I still have all of my digits. Well done, I say.

My favorite wine from the last week was a Riesling from Germany. I had heard of Riesling before, but honestly, I'm not sure I'd ever tasted one, or if I had, it just didn't register. Now that I've tasted it, though, I think Riesling might be one of my favorite wines. This particular one we tasted was a Von Buhl Riesling "Armand" Kabinett Pfalz 2008. It was slightly dry with a hint of sweetness to it, and it was bright and fresh-smelling with a little bit of lime and (our teacher pointed out) a slight burnt match smell to it. That hopefully doesn't make it sound gross because it was delicious!

Bobby, I know you mentioned that you had a few favorite Rieslings. Please put them in the comments, I'd love to know what they are!

This Friday is our first test, consisting of multiple choice questions and then a blind tasting of two wines, one red, one white. Please check back here after Friday and I will let you know how it went. Wish me luck!