The Wine Raconteur

My Bride said let’s go to Napa Valley for our next holiday.  To an amateur wine lover, that is close to Nirvana.  My brain went into hyper-drive.  There is so much to plan, so much to see, but most important…so much to taste.  Wineries, restaurants, being a tourist and finding out that we were going to go to a Spa as well, were all crowding my thought process.  We were planning on meeting some friends that had moved out of state, in Napa.  When should we go?  That was easy, let us go when it is the craziest; we will go during harvest season.  We can see wine production in process, and fully appreciate all that goes into making a bottle of wine.

Where do we stay, what should we see and where should we eat?  All important and great questions that needed an answer, to make this holiday wonderful and memorable.  By long distance, burning up the phone lines, we decided to split up some duties.  Our friends would work on securing someplace to stay, and find a Spa.  The wineries and restaurants fell on my lap, and who in their right mind would consider that work.

There are so many wineries in Napa Valley, that there was no way to see them all, let alone to do wine tasting in just one week.  There were wineries that I had to see, and there were some wineries that were important, just to say we went there (because they were tourist attractions that even friends who were not into wines would have heard of).  Restaurants had to be chosen for each dinner, not to mention lunches as we would need strength to continue on this quest.  I was adamant that we would eat out, all the time, my Bride is an excellent cook, but there was no way that I wanted her to be cooking on this trip, after all she was on holidays as well.

I was burning up the internet checking on wineries and restaurants, and printing maps galore (would I need a separate suit case just for paperwork?).  Certain wineries had different classifications for wine tasting.  Certain restaurants had different rules for reservations, and everything had to be planned.  I felt like a general planning on the largest military maneuver since D-Day.

Slowly, but surely everything started to fall into place.  We rented a private home that was owned by a couple from San Francisco and they considered this their cabin on the top of the rise overlooking the whole valley.  In the mornings with coffee, out on the porch we could see the hot air balloons from Sonoma.  Reservations were being made and then we looked at maps to fill in other side trips between.  This was to be a memorable holiday.  We decided that the first day would be unpacking, a trip to a Spa (massages and reflexology to prepare us for the rigors of the week) and then dinner.  The adventures would begin the next day.  The following series of anecdotes may have additional photos beyond just wines, so I beg you to forgive my indulgences ahead of time.  Remember also that beyond being an amateur in wines, we are even more an amateur in photography.

Wine and Food go hand in hand at one of the best fund-raisers that I know of.  We have been attending this affair for years, in fact we gave been going prior to the construction of the new VisTaTech Center at Schoolcraft College.  This event raises money for the Schoolcraft College Scholarship Fund.  It is held in September of each year just for that purpose.  The greatest thing besides the noble effort of helping young students go to college is that former graduates of the culinary program return for this event representing the restaurant or other culinary institutions and prepare a tasting for everyone that stops at their respected table.

As soon as you enter the Extravaganza you are handed a plastic tray, which has a slot provided for a wine glass and a wine glass.  This tray makes is as convenient as you go from table to table tasting all the delicious foods being offered.  There are normally three sets of tables, each representing a different restaurant, and each table will offer a different dish that is placed on a small plate which is then placed on your tray.  There are clusters of tables with groupings from appetizers, salads, soups, entrees of meat, poultry and seafood, desserts and coffee and soft beverages.  Usually the fourth table in the cluster will be of a winery or a distributor featuring four to six different types of wine to try (hence the glass).  There will be leaflets and brochures about the wines as handouts, and some of the restaurants even offer gifts as an added inducement to go to their restaurant at a later date.  This is such a great time, because you may see a restaurant that is there, that you have heard about and never gone to, and they are trying to dazzle you with their offering.  It is a great time, but be warned that you should go there hungry, because there is some serious “grazing” for the afternoon.

They also have silent auctions of art work, food baskets, dinners and collectible wines.  There is also a live auction that features trips to wine countries and areas, dinners at your home prepared by some of the chefs at the Extravaganza, something for everyone at all price levels.

One year we begrudgingly left all the food and wine to go to a session of wine tasting (and I say begrudgingly because the food choices were so wonderful) overseen by the Detroit area’s Master Sommelier Madeline Triffon.  It was a blind tasting and believe me there was some lively discussions and a fun time enjoyed by all that attended it.  How often do you get a chance to discuss wines with a Master Sommelier?  Ms. Triffon made it fun and not stuffy; she was attempting to make the wines accessible and non-threatening.  She accomplished that goal with flying colors.  We then proceeded back to the food and wine tables and ended up at the live auction.

We always invite friends to join us, and in later years we see our friends with other friends that they invite for more good times.  The chefs, restaurants, wineries and all who participate are zealous in their endeavor to serve quality and not mediocrity.  An extremely well run charity event.

So if you are in the Detroit area, go to Schoolcraft Community College’s website to check out the forthcoming Culinary Extravaganza and order your tickets.  You will not be disappointed.  My only caveat is that you should not have any dinner plans that evening, as you will have to work off the afternoon’s delicacies.

My Bride and I have always aspired to be Nick and Nora, which proceeds Hart to Hart by decades.  We were up at the Grand Traverse Resort one year because of a conference that my Bride was attending.  I was asked if I could give a wine tasting and talk to the spouses that were not at the conference.  I accepted the challenge graciously.  Since we were up in the Traverse Bay area, it was quite easy to find seven different wines locally as well as some Michigan cheeses for the tasting event.

This was a fun tasting and not a classroom for in-depth discussion.  There were several people who had no concept of what to expect, but they were in a resort, they were not golfing and they wanted to have fun.  That is the way I approached the tasting.   I discussed the grape varieties, and some of the wine techniques.  We had some lively discussions of which wines would be great with different foods.  I found Champagne that was on the sweeter side to begin with, that was a big hit with the group.  Everyone prior to tasting this Champagne had expressed that they prefer a brut style, until they tried this wine, and they all raved about it.  This wine was from Chateau Chantal and it was called Celebration.  It is a pink wine with a wonderful semi-sweet taste and they all wanted to buy some to take home from the trip.  The other wine that I surprised them with was a Gewürztraminer style wine also from Chateau Chantal (on another tangent here, if you are ever in the Traverse City area, you must see Chateau Chantal not only for the wines, but it is one of the most beautiful wineries in Michigan as it is the furthest point on the peninsula with panoramic views of both bays).  The Gewürztraminer was at first a little startling to everyone, because it is a very “spicy” wine.  When I suggested that they try this wine paired with Chinese food, they all could see this marriage in their mind.  We ended the tasting and everyone was then ready for the dinner that evening at the conference and looked forward to trying some different wines and feeling adventurous.

At the end of the conference, I was wandering in the lobby of the resort, and wandered into a gift shop.  They had a “murder mystery” game for a group of eight.  According to the packaging, there were suggestions for attire for all of the guests, and invitations to be mailed with those suggestions.  The game also had dinner suggestions and music suggestions in keeping with the theme of the “murder.”  We couldn’t wait to get home to have the party, elaborating on the dinner and pairing wines with each course.  Since that first “murder” party we have probably purchase another twenty different themed games.  That is where Nick and Nora come into the picture.  If those two names do not ring a bell, think of the “Thin Man” movies of the thirties and forties based on the original “Thin Man” story by Dashiell Hammett, who also wrote “The Maltese Falcon.”

Nick and Nora were the ultimate amateur sleuths, though at one time Nick had been a professional, gave it up when he married Nora, and they both just enjoyed the era and the carefree times, helped by some days and nights of revelry with assorted alcoholic beverages and assorted colorful characters.  Years later on a wine vacation in Carmel, we stopped in art gallery in Monterrey, and there was a collection of works by the legendary caricaturist Al Hirschfeld.  While in the gallery there was the work we had to have, signed as #95 of a 100 print run, with four “Nina” trademarks “The Thin Man.”  An extra expense, we had not counted on, but it is now the focal point of our living room.  I was going to include a picture of the drawing in this remembrance, but every picture I could find on the internet was protected and I could not download a copy.  When I mentioned this fact to my Bride she became adamant that I do not even photograph the one on the wall, so instead I will offer a faint resemblance of our famed duo with a picture of the host and hostess with a bottle of Champagne at one of our “murder” parties.

Everyone has to start somewhere.  Wines are everywhere to be procured.  In the old days it seemed that wine was only sold in bulk gallon jugs, but that could be, because I grew up in a highly ethnically mixed neighborhood.  You would see wines with brand names like Gallo and Famiglia Cribari.  The labels would have such descriptions as “Red Wine,” “White Wine,” Port and Chianti.  Then in one of the back closets at church you would see gallon jugs that said “Altar Wine.”

People would buy these wines and enjoy them or grimace and wonder what all the fuss about wines was about.  Then there were the bottles of Chianti that seemed to be everywhere from fancy pizzerias and local Italian restaurants, the wines that had a wicker wrapped bottle.  This wicker-work is called a “fiasco” which is how some wine enthusiasts would insist is a proper description.  The wicker-work was done by hand back then, so the wine was the least expensive and had the least quality of the vintner.  The bottles were designed to be standing erect, and usually had shorter corks (both indications that the wine was not designed for long-term storage, but for immediate use).  In the old days in the movies or on television you would see the bottles in the background of sets with a tall candle inserted in the neck, and candle wax drippings down the bottle; a very Bohemian type of atmosphere.

I have always viewed this migration of the wine industry as a positive growth.  People started becoming more adventurous with decisions.  I really enjoy seeing this up-growth of people drinking wine.  At parties, people would have wine set out, and a lot of hosts would make it a point to pour me a full glass of wine (knowing that I am an outspoken advocate of wine), not realizing that the glass should not be filled to the brim.  When I am offered the glass, I always accept it, and taste it with them.  I then try to tactfully suggest that the next time when they are shopping for wine, they should try to look for a different type of the same wine.  How many times have I nursed a glass of wine, rather than insult my host or hostess.

Any attempt to get more people to enjoy wines is a great idea.  It is also wonderful when the next time I see some of my past hosts or hostesses and they thank me for the last suggestion.  They may not be able to verbalize the difference of my last suggestion, but they readily admit that there was a marked improvement in taste.  I find that very satisfying and humbling at the same time.  It is even better when they asked for a suggestion that is one step above the last recommendation. I hope that I have started another wine enthusiast for the future, as they have begun to take the small steps to better enjoyment.

I may only be a new raconteur of wine.  I remember reading about this wine, and I had to discover it and decide for myself, as the story was intriguing.

On the back label of the bottle I quote;

“In the year 1111, the Bavarian Bishop Baron Johannes Fugger was traveling to Rome under the instructions of Emperor Henry V.  The nobleman, a connoisseur of wine, sent his faithful servant ahead to chalk the word EST! (“It is”) at the entrance of every inn where the wine was especially good.  The servant was so enthusiastic about the wine of Montefiascone that he wrote EST! EST!! EST!!! on a local inn.

The Baron never reached Rome.  Agreeing with his servants choice he remained in Montefiascone.

The story is commemorated in Montefiascone every year in August when a barrel of EST! EST!! EST!!! is poured over his tomb.”

Further to the legend is that the Baron actually drank himself to death on the spot.  Whether or not this is true, it is lore that the village revels in.

The wine is a very pleasant white wine, what I would refer to as unassuming.  It was a decent wine, though I know that I would not drink myself to death over it.  The story was good enough for me to want to try a bottle of it.  That my friend is the true wonder and the cause of my continuing love of wine, that there is always another bottle to try, a region, a grape variety.

Of course I remember the old priests in the neighborhood, even though they were of Italian or Hungarian descent, all had that Barry Fitzgerald persona and were known to have a glass of wine or two.  It is still a tradition, as my Bride always goes down to the cellar to get a wonderful bottle to give to her priest on Christmas.  Then my Father loved to tell the story about our priest who came to bless our house in Detroit.  He came from my Grandmother’s village so she was adamant that when he presented his flask, that it should be filled with the Crown Royal and not the Canadian Club.  My Father would laugh and say that the flask held a fifth.  This has nothing to do with wine, but I get off on tangents periodically.

One night I ended up on stage with Hula Girls in their skimpy attire in Las Vegas.  I was there on my first honeymoon and this was Vegas, when it was a “family” town.   It was glamorous and gaudy all bundled up together.  Everybody got dressed up in their finest clothes and enjoyed the festivities.  It gave the feeling that everyone was part of the “Rat Pack,” and what was more exciting then that.  The casino/hotels were not separate zip codes back then, and the main goal of all the entertainment and dinners was to keep you gambling.

I am not a gambler, never have and never will.  Alright when I used to go there I gambled, but I lost and if I am going to give my money away, I hope to get something in return.  Oh well.  I remember, going to see some of my Father’s old friends that were “pit bosses” or some other titled position in the casinos.  One of the “pit bosses” that I looked up offered me a line pass to go see Don Ho at the casino.  At that time, Don Ho was billed as the “Dean Martin” of Hawaii and he was a regular performer in Vegas.  In those days you went to see a “star” at the shows, today if they changed the entire cast overnight on some of the big extravaganza shows that have run for years, you would never know it.  I mean would you know one blue man from another?

So that evening I had a line pass, which is just a fancy way of saying that you don’t have to wait in line to get your table assignment.  For an extra gratuity, you ended up stage-side.  We made chit chat with some people at the next table and waited for the show.  Don Ho had a complete Vegas revue show with dancers, singers, comics and talks with the audience.  Somewhere during the show, he asked if there were any honeymooners in the audience that evening.  I was cajoled to raise my hand, and the next thing I know two young Hula Girls were escorting me to the wings of the stage.

Once backstage, the ladies had a “certain” look for me, so they took my suit coat off and I believe my dress shirt as well, and left me with my tie, trousers and shoes.  I could see Don Ho performing, and his piano was designed so that the entire length of the piano had a row of glasses side by side.  This could not be seen from the audience.  He was getting ready to perform “Tiny Bubbles” which was his theme song.  The girls brought me on-stage and stood me rather sheepishly between the two of them as they started to do a hula with me.  The next thing I know, one of them is holding her top, running off the stage and looks at the audience and says “And he is on his honeymoon.”  The audience roared, I was taken back in the wings to get properly dressed, while “Tiny Bubbles” was being performed.

I got back to my table, and there was an ice bucket on a pedestal next to my table with a bottle of champagne, courtesy of my “co-star.”

When I was in college, I frequented a couple of nightclubs that were “wine-oriented.”  They had great wine lists, and I would take a date to these clubs after dinner for a bottle of wine and some dancing.  Truth be told, I couldn’t afford both dinner and wine together at either club.  I was still learning about wines, and this way I could have a different bottle each time I went out, and the bottle would last the evening, interspersed with some dancing.

One night I went to one of the clubs stag, in hopes that I might find a young lady.  This was the seventies, and clubs were a great venue back then.  Since I was by myself, a bottle of wine was not a good choice.  I was sitting at the bar, when the owner came over to talk to me from behind the bar.  I think that he understood that I was not a heavy hitter, but that I did like his wine selection.  The bartender had just poured me a glass of Chevas, and I was getting ready to have my first taste for the evening.  The owner grabbed my glass of scotch and unceremoniously threw it down the sink and started laughing.  I was looking over the bar at my lost drink.

He looked at me and stated that I was to enjoy a glass of wine with him.  My ears perked up, and my taste buds forgot about the scotch.  He had grabbed a bottle from his personal stash and wanted to evaluate it.  He informed me that if I could do any identification from a “blind” tasting, that there would be no charge for the scotch or another one later on.  I figured I had nothing to lose, and everything to gain.

We went to a far table away from the maddening crowd.  He had two large crystal goblets and a bottle in a brown paper bag.  The wine bottle looked like it should be in the hands of a skid-row wino, and not in a place like this.  He carefully opened the bottle, with the bag completely covering the label, and I could not even see the foil over the cap for any help.  He took the cork off of the cork screw, smelled it, smiled and put it in his pocket, to keep my prying eyes off of any clue.  He then decanted the bottle with the paper back tightly wrapped around so that I still couldn’t see the label, but so that he could see the neck of the bottle.   He held it over a candle and began decanting into a crystal bottle.  This was the first time, I had really watched a bottle decanted, as most of the wines that I could afford, did not require such pomp and circumstance.  He pointed out to me that I should look at the bottle’s neck at that moment, and I saw the start of the sludge or dregs that accumulate in a well aged wine.  He then looked at the crystal bottle and estimated that about a third of the bottle was lost because of the age.

He poured two generous glasses of this wine and handed one to me.  I picked up the glass and held towards a light fixture and was amazed at how light the color of this red wine was.  It was much paler, than any wine that I had ever tried up to that moment.  I joked that this wine must be older then me, and he laughed.  I then swirled it in the glass and wanted to stick my whole nose in the goblet.  It had a very ethereal smell, which I had never encountered before.  Then we both tasted it, at the same time.  Even knowing how to truly taste a wine, I swallowed it much quicker then my host did.  He was still chewing it, and making a decision on the future of this wine.  After the first taste, he looked at me, and wanted to know what my decision on the wine was.

I knew it was not Bordeaux, because by that time I had tasted several of the lesser wines of the Medoc, but none of the Grand Crus.  So I smiled and said that it was a Burgundy and I hoped this would suffice.  It did not.  He claimed that any bum off the street could have made that opinion.  He goaded me to continue.  My brain was fairly uncluttered at that time, as I had been reading many books about wines, so I tried to figure a section of Burgundy that had proper fame.  I came up with a hallowed name and said “Richebourg.”  He smiled and said that I was right.  I felt like a million dollars at that moment.  He then said after a couple more tastes, that for a refill, that I should come up with the year of vintage.  I was thinking to my self that this was not fair, but I had no skin in the game, so I continued.  I thought to myself that there were three stellar vintages of that century; 1961, 1945 and 1921.  I continued my thought process and reasoned that the ‘61’s were too recent for him to want to check on, the ‘45’s were legendary and the 21’s also were legendary (but was it over-the-hill?).  I told him that I was guessing, but I said 1921.  He laughed pulled away the paper bag and showed me that I was right on all counts.  He continued laughing and told me I was a lucky S.O.B and I agreed.

He asked me how I did it, and I told him it was just deduction and presumption on my part.  Outside of knowing that it was a Burgundy, I had no proper knowledge of any of the great Burgundies, so I just guessed at a name.  Then I explained my thoughts on the vintage years, and I said that presumed he had more of this wine and was checking to see if he could serve it safely to his friends that really knew their wines.  He poured me another glass and told me to enjoy it, and to remember the evening.  Even as he walked away to take care of his business, I was still thanking him profusely.

Years later, I splurged and bought a bottle of 1967 Richebourg and drank it way too soon.  I had to know, and somewhere in the back of my brain, my brain gave me a whack and said that it was not as great as that ’21.  I may never have a chance to have a legendary ’45, but I can say that I had a ’21.