I am one of those people who gives a bottle of wine to a friend when invited to dinner, or for any special event, or just to share a bottle. Most of my friends love wine, or at least drink it regularly, but few have more than a limited experience. So when I present a bottle, I make it a point to say something about it—what grape variety is used, where it comes from, who made it, something of its specialty. This is important because we want to know what we are drinking in the same way as we want to know what we are eating. Besides, having some knowledge of what you are drinking can hugely add to the pleasure and sometimes awaken taste sensations—at least psychologically—when that information is at hand. I had that experience at Thanksgiving last when I baked a turkey for ten and supplied the wine. When we opened the first bottle—very appropriately Turkey Flat from the Barossa Valley in Australia—I told my guests that it was a blend of 40% Syrah (Shiraz in Australia), 40% Grenache, and the rest Mourvèdre (Mataro in Australia); that the wine spent 18 months in new French oak; and then the topper—the Syrah used in the blend came from some of the original vines planted in 1847—that’s 162 years ago and still producing rich, hearty, very concentrated juice. That impressed everyone, including me, but the point was not to show off in front of my guests; it was to have people think about what is in the glass. From the information I provided, I saw my guests actually looking into the glass, taking the time to inhale the vapors, and sipping it in their mouths slowly, honoring, I think, something special that should be pondered before consumed.

It takes time and experience to know about wine and the wine world. You have to read a lot, taste a lot, talk to other wine lovers a lot, experiment with wines that are unfamiliar, which most of us don’t do. That’s why when I give a bottle to a friend—a good bottle because I want my friends to soak it in and have a luscious experience—the most revealing question I hear regularly is: when do I drink it? What is meant here is: should I hold on to it in my cellar or can I drink it tonight? To drink or not to drink. It is really a good question because most people think that wine has to be aged before it’s ready to drink. Years ago I asked the same question when I received a bottle from an Italian friend, a wine merchant whose wonderful first name is Michelangelo. He replied: when you want to. After a slight pause, he added: Of course, if you wait a few years, it just might get better. This is the real question: when do we age wine; for how long; and when do I know when it is drinkable at its peak.

When you go to the supermarket to buy a melon, you always hold it up to sniff it odors to see if it’s ripe. The same with any fruit: you want to eat it when it’s ripe because you know the fruit will taste its best. Grapes are fruit too, and since wine comes from grapes, this applies as well to the juice. One of the most important decisions winemakers can make is when to pick their grapes so that the ripeness is a maximum level. But it is important to note that most wines in the world—in fact a huge majority—is made to be drunk as soon as it is bottled. Like all fruit, there is a limit before the ripeness is lost. If the melon you bought is held onto too long, it becomes inedible because the natural sugar content begins to degrade into fermentation and it becomes mushy. Wines have the same cycle: they are ready to be drunk and then after a while—how much depends on a variety of factors—they become vinegary and acidic.

Some winemakers will make their wine purposely to be aged, usually reds. They will control the levels of fermentation and tannins so that the best of the wine tasting experience will take years to develop, but only if stored in a good cellar. Again, I emphasize that this is a very small percentage of the wines that are made in the world. Therefore in aging wines, or buying a wine that is years or decades old, a new dimension is brought to the them. The bursting fruit flavors of a youthful wine will mellow into a different harmonious ensemble. The color of a red will slowly turn from deep a tone to a soft brick and the taste buds will encounter different sensations, mellow flavors that only come with age. White wines, which are generally less structured and therefore not as age worthy as reds, can, however, mature beautifully if the winemaker has produced it for that purpose. The color too will change from a light limpid clarity to a honeyed golden hue, with an accented richness at its core.

I recently noticed a Spanish white made up of 90% Viura blended with 10% Malvasia from Bodega R. Lopez de Heredia in the Rioja region, one of the few Spanish firms that specialize in whites. The wine, labeled Vina Tondonia Reserva, is made not only from the grapes grown in their own vineyards—and thus the levels of maturity are controlled by them—but also stored in oak fabricated directly by them on the property. The latest release of the Reserva is 1991—that’s not a typographical error. The wine was aged for 6 years in oak and 10 years in bottle in a constant temperature of 14° C and 75% humidity before release. The Gran Reserva spent 9 years in oak and the rest in bottle; the current release is 1987. The results are very surprising: extremely rich, golden to the eye, and surprisingly dry to the taste buds.

When to taste? Know the wine before that question can be asked. Most of the really prime red Bordeaux can take a decade or more before they show their real stuff. Syrah too has a long life in general, but many can be drunk young as well. For Pinot Noir, my rule is this: if it is from Burgundy and a village wine—that is, coming from a blend within a specific village (Beaune, Santenay, etc) but not from a 1^st Cru vineyard—it almost always wonderful between 5 and 8 years, but rarely afterwards. American Zinfandel is rarely made to age and should be drunk young, as is the case with Beaujolais, which rarely lasts more than a year or two. Riesling is wonderful the year of release, but it too has a long life. I had a German one from 1994 recently that was fresh, crisp, and still tasted youthful. As my friend Michelangelo said: Drink it when you want to. But know that some wines do age well; others do not.

Traveling through the south of France, one is always struck by the enormous fields of vines that dot the countryside everywhere you look. You often get the impression that there is nothing else growing here except grapes. And the impression is not misleading. The area of the Rhône valley—stretching roughly north to south from Valence to Avignon before branching out to the east and west—is the second largest wine-producing region in France. Almost 6,000 vignerons farm well over 200,000 acres of vineyards, producing roughly 37 million cases a year. To put that into perspective, that amounts to about 440 million bottles, or more than a bottle for every American alive—each year. But put statistics aside. To my mind, there is simply no other region in France that produces such great divesity of wines so consistantly good year after year.

There are in fact two Rhône valleys divided between the north and the south. While they are linked, they are also are very distinct. They have different climates, different soils, and therefore grow different grapes suited to each area. For example, in the north the only red permitted is Syrah, while in the south several red varieties are planted, the most widespread being Grenache. The north has small pockets of whites, the best—and rarest—are the wines produced from the Viognier grape. Two appellations in the north produce only this: Condrieu and Château-Grillet, and the latter consists literally of a single domain, owned by the same family since 1830. The wines are aged in oak for two years before release and only about 10,000 bottles are produced for world consumption. Of the prime red wines from the north, those of the Côte-Rôtie (literally, the “roasted slope” because of the blistering sun) and Hermitage are considered the best and indeed are the costliest. They are made from Syrah with a bit of Viognier added to the Côte-Rôtie, and other whites (up to 15%) to the Hermitage. These are generally very deep wines with much tanins and mature slowly ; they can last for more than a generation. Both are characterized by aromas of fruit, olives, and bacon. Also very hardy and concentrated are the wines from Cornas, a pure Syrah, and Saint-Joseph, which adds a bit of white to the blend is therefore a bit lighter in color and flavor. All of these wines are produced in relatively small quantities, while Crozes-Hermitage, vinified with Syrah with some white added, is much more abundant and wholly more approachable, even when young. These wines are very much lighter and made for early drinking; generally they are not meant to be kept for more than a few years.

The south, however, is much larger with several different appellations, not all of which can be discussed here. The major ones, however, in descending quality—and price–are:

Châteauneuf-de-Pape—which accounts for an almost 1.2 million cases. This was France’s first officially designated appellation and set the standards for others to follow. The territory it covers is so vast that different soil types are present, which means different grape varieties. Since one grape does not dominate, the law permits as many as 13 varieties that can be blended in the wine. Usually, the domminant grape is Grenache. Styles can range from very smooth to very tannic; many of the wines have to be cellared in order to blossom as they should. I have bottles of Clos de Papes,1990, which is still not yet in its prime.

Gigondas—is on the whole much more easily approachable. Mostly made up of Grenache, these wines can come from plantings on the plateau or from slop hillside plots, which will effect the flavors because of important variations in light and drainage. These wines are marked by fresh fruit flavors and lively acidity; they are often very refreshing and go very well with food. I often detect delectable strawberry odors.

Vacqueyras—is just a bit further south along the plateau and too is dominted by Grenache, although there are additions of Syrah and Mourvedre, which must not exceed 20% of the blend. The wines resemble the ones from Gigondas, but with a slight difference. For reasons linked to the soil and exposure, the wines from Vacqueyras are rarely as elegant. But they have great power and flavor which please enormously. Many are very smooth in the mouth and can be enjoyed very lightly chilled.

Côtes de Rhône—the appellation that is by far the most widespread and can be used throughout the region. These are Grenache-based wines that can be very simple to very complex depending on their origin and vinification. They are never meant to be aged, but rather to be enjoyed immediately. A sub-strata of this is Côtes de Rhône-Villages, which is a step upwards because these wines come from one of 18 different sites only with the name of the village added. The best of these in my view is Cairanne which produces the most luscious wines of the group.

When it comes to wines of the Rhône, do not hesitate. There are rarely bad years because the climate is very stable. The best of the Rhône wines are some of the best in the world. The next time you think about that great but traditional Bordeaux in the cellar, try a Rhône instead and see the difference.

For most of us who drink wine regularly, there are certain grapes to which we turn to repeatedly. These are the most common on the market: cabernet sauvignon, merlot, chardonnay, syrah, perhaps sauvignon blanc. A huge proportion of the world’s wines—whether in the Old World or the New—are made from these varieties. Cabernet in particular is cultivated in various climates from Canada to South Africa and New Zealand. It is king in Bordeaux where it is usually blended with merlot and cabernet franc to produce that typical Bordeaux flavor. Chardonnay is certainly the world’s most planted white grape, with vineyards virtually everywhere on the globe, including Uruguay and India. It is the main white grape of Burgundy; some of the best Champagnes use it as well for intensity and subtlety. Merlot, the third most planted grape in the world, and syrah—known as Shiraz in Australia—are staples that find their way into a plethora of reds, either vinified singly or blended.

Because of the huge popularity of these varietals, we are often ignorant of other grapes that in their own way have much to offer. If you love wine, there is no reason not to try grapes varieties that have lesser familiarity. It’s like food. We have our preferences, but we prefer a menu of choices, sometimes being tempted to try something new and different because it’s there. Nobody wants to have steak every night.

Here are some grapes you should try to see that the world of wine is large, very varied, and full of surprises:

Malbec—This is a very hearty, robust red that was once used in blending in Bordeaux. It is now concentrated in Cahors in the south of France, where it is known as Côt noir. Malbec is thin skinned and needs a great deal of sun, but the results are often very intense, tannic, and almost black in color. To my mind, the greatest Malbecs are made in Argentina where the climate and soil produce superb examples.

Dolcetto—Grown in the Piedmont area of Italy, this wine, which means “little sweet one,” is always very dry. The wines are fruit driven, usually light, and meant to be consumed a year or two after the vintage. Dolcettos have moderate alcohol, and often exhibit a purplish tone when poured. They are especially good with light fare, although they will hold up to a really good pizza. As far as I know, no decent Dolcetto is produced outside of Italy.

Pinot Gris—Not really a pinot but related to it, the grape has a bluish-grey tint to it, hence the name. It produces a delicious white wine that has richness and body. The grape is best when grown particularly sweet, unctuous wine, and not bad with chocolate (!) or blue cheese, a good alternative to sweet sauterne. As an apératif, it goes a long way.

Torrontes—I have been amazed at how very good this grape is in producing excellent aromatic white wines that are sharp, zesty, and rich on the palette. Grown in Argentina, torrontes grapes provide a very fruity wine that is crisp and energetic as a bright day. Because it thrives in high cool altitudes—some are grown in areas of 2,000 meters—it has an intensity that is particularly enticing and refreshing. Lovely with delicate white fish.

Mencia—Here is wonderful alternative to powerful, concentrated Spanish wines. Planted especially in the northwest of Spain near El Bierzo, the wines are significantly lighter, more delicate, and less acidic in the mouth than other Spanish reds. They are also very velvety when drunk young, and go very well with lighter food, even a seafood salad. These wines are harder to come by because they are not as abundantly planted as other varieties, but well worth the effort.

Zweigelt—You probably don’t know this one. The name comes from its developer, Fritz Zweigelt, who crossed two red varieties in 1922 to produce this variation. It’s home is Austria where it is thrives, but plantings are known in other East European countries, as well as Canada. Like a Dolcetto, it is very light and fruity, and not far from the ripe taste of a good Beaujolais. Not much is produced and even less exported, but worth the trouble to find a bottle.I love it slightly slightly chilled in summer.

Zinfandel—Where this name comes from is not certain, but the grape is related to Croation varieties and the Primitivo variety from southern Italy. It is grown especially in California where Italian immigrants introduced it. High in sugar content, the wine often has a very high alcohol content. It is vigorous, spicy, and full of deep berry notes, almost zinful, if you pardon the pun. This is a wonderful alternative to Cabernet, but it is not for the faint-hearted: it is big, hearty, the perfect wine with a beef stew on a cold night. Americans know this variety very well—there is even a Zinfandel society—but Europeans hardly have the chance to taste it. They are missing something very fine.

Be tempted. Try any one of these wines and you will marvel at how very exciting they can be. And when you do, send one to a friend who may be too timid to try something he or she does not know.

Photo by artandscience

Before 1975, when Franco was still alive, Spain was a considerable source of low-cost, low-quality, everyday wine. High yields and centuries-old traditions of high alcohol bulk wine governed the Spanish industry, especially in reds and innocuous rosés. They were barely drinkable, and most were best consumed as the main ingredient for making sangria. No more. In the last few decades, huge investments in agriculture and vineyard management have made Spanish wines much finer; yields from a vine have been reduced, adding stronger flavors; and above all the desire to produce world-class wines has revolutionized the industry as whole, resulting in some of the best wines in Europe. Because of lower labor costs, many Spanish wines remain affordable even by the case.

Spain has about 650,000 hectares (ha) of vines; that’s less than France with over 865,000 ha, but surprisingly twice the production of the US and almost eight times the production of Australia. In other words Spain produces a very substantial number of bottles each year: wine exports have doubled in the last five years alone, totally an astonishing 917 million liters in 2009: that’s almost a billion bottles. Who is buying it? Besides the Spanish, among the largest customers are the British and the Germans, with, oddly, the Russians, not far behind.

But like many viticulture products from different regions, you need a lexicon to translate what you are getting. The most abundant grape in Spain is one you never heard of: airén, which makes an undistinguished white. The grape, however, that makes most of the reds we drink is tempranillo—from the Spannish word, temprano, meaning “early” because it ripens earlier than many other reds. It is the grape variety used in Rioja, either singly or mixed with dashes of other grapes. This variety of grape thrives in Spain because it needs the dry heat during the day but very cool nights that most regions provide. The wines, especially from Ribera del Duero, are very perfumed, often concentrated, easy to drink when young, and are marvelous companions with juicy meat. But you should know that the same grape has several different names depending on the area where it is grown: in Rioja it is tempranillo; in Ribero del Duero, it is Tinto fino—“tinto” means “red”; in La Mancha, it Cencibel; in Toro, it is Tinto de Toro; etc.

Like German wines, the labels are important sources of information. Spanish wine laws require that the label must tell you about the aging of the wine; how long in oak, if at all, and how long the wine has remained in the bodega—the cellar—before it is on the market. There are several categories of these:

Joven—literally “youthful,” a wine that sees little or no oak and is meant to be drunk very young, the year it is put in the bottle. It is always fresh and fruity. Excellent for picnics in the summer with light fare.

Crianza—literally “nursing” or “rearing.” This means that the wine has been stored in oak for a year and then an additional year in the bottle before it is released. It is generally fleshier than a joven and has more depth.

Riserva—literally a “reserve” wine. The difference here is that the wine must have been stored in oak barrels at least a year and then two additional years in the bottle. Riservas are always good, meaty, very aromatic, and luscious.

Gran Riserva—These wines go one step further: they have been stored least two years in oak and then three more in the bottle before release. They are already mature wines and taste of the maturing process in finesse and depth.

As you move along the scale from Joven to Gran Riserva, the price goes up. This is to be expected because in the case of a Riserva, for example, the winery has to hold on to its stock for at least three years before selling a single bottle—the Gran Riserva for five years—and the buyer must help pay for that storage. The winery can hold on to the wine even longer if it wishes to get those flavors even more mature and subtle. Take for example the Vega Sicilia Unico, one of the finest wines in the world, up there with the best Bordeaux, but made only in the finest years. The newest release in 2009 is the 1999 vintage—ten years in storage, including more than six in which the wine was in new and used oak casks. There are only about 8,000 cases available for global consumption and deep-pocketed drinkers fight over them. Don’t ask the price.

Needless to say, these wines have enormous lasting power. Because the Spanish wine laws require this aging identification, you can be sure that when you buy a bottle of Spanish wine, it is already ready to be consumed. You don’t have to put it in the cellar and wait years before enjoying it. That is great for the consumer.

The other day I went into my local wine shop for a bottle of Spanish red I did not have in my cellar, a young, fruity Graciano from Rioja made by Ondarre. I had tasted it before and liked it well enough to want to have a bottle for tonight’s dinner. When I saw the wine on the shelf, I was struck by a new addition to the label: “Decanter Award Wine *****.” A wine awarded such a high rating would, of course, get the attention of anyone looking for a guaranteed good quaff that someone thought very highly of. At the price of less than $15, it was probably a safe bet for anyone looking for a fine, easily priced red.

Ratings wines can, like ratings of other items, hugely influence the sales of these bottles. But how are wines rated and by whom? All wines that bear ratings are tasted by professionals who sip, swirl, and spit the wine blind—that is, from a bottle that is covered up so as not to influence the taster’s score. They will probably be told the origin of the wine, Spanish, not Italian for example, to have a context to make up their minds about the style, balance, taste, and other factors that should be noted. These opinions are often published in specialized magazines that show a score, along with tasting notes.

The most famous taster, as we all know, is Robert Parker, Jr. who has published The Wine Advocate since 1978. His words on the quality of a wine are generally thought definitive, even Papal, so much so that his influence is considered by some to be too great. Producers have even been accused of making wines specifically to his taste in order to get a high rating and therefore hope for higher sales. Parker scores are found everywhere in wine shops in the US and the UK as incentives to buy, and I have seen them sporadically in France and Italy. Parker’s rating system works on a scale from 50 to 100: 96-100 is an extraordinary wine; 90-95 an outstanding wine; 80-89 is from barely average to very good wine; 70-79 an innocuous wine but soundly made; and so forth to a downright unacceptable wine.

In the English-speaking world, there are two particularly important wine journals, Decanter Magazine and Wine Spectator. The wine I cited above with five stars was rated by Decanter, the leading British journal, but sold in 92 countries. They rate wines by stars and numerical scores based on a 20-point system. My five-star wine therefore scored between 18.5 to 20 points. Four stars indicate highly recommended (16.5 to 18.49); three stars are recommended wines (14.5 to 16.49); and so forth. Note the decimals.

Wine Spectator is the most powerful American wine journal. Their rating system is similar to Parker’s, a 100-point scale. Like Parker, a high score from WS can accelerate sales considerably, all the more because WS has a readership of well over 2,000,000 18 times a year, compared with 50,000 for Parker’s publication. If only 10% of the WS subscribers search a wine that is very highly rated, then that represents 200,000 people searching for it, or some cases fighting over it, because the case production is usually considerably less than that.

But in all of this, one has to remember something about ratings: they are personal and subjective depending on the taster and his wine background. English palettes are not the same as American ones. Even in Europe tastes differ: a Spanish taster used to highly oaked wines, might find certain Italian Barolos austere; a French taster might find an Australian wine too sweet; etc. Not only that, consider how very fine the palette must be, at least in theory, to distinguish between a score of 89 (very good) and 90 (excellent). Although I have much respect for wine professionals, some of whom have extraordinary palettes, that kind of precision defies my tasting logic. Neither tasting nor ratings is a science, but it is almost presented as one. Consider this: I looked at the September 2009 issue of Decanter Magazine and found the following ratings: a Domaine Felettig Chambolle-Musigny, Les Charmes, 2007 scoring 16.35 and a Domaine Bertagna Les Plantes, 2006 scoring 16.25. Can one really be that painfully accurate in tasting a wine? Could not one of those wines taste a fraction better, or worse, if tasted at the beginning or at the end of the tasting? Do we know if the bottle was aired properly before tasting? Were different glasses used for different wines? Was it tasted twice—once early and then, say, an hour later?

Ratings, therefore, are to me general guides, not precise mathematical figures. When I look at ratings, I start with the bottom of the list first. That tells me that the wine was not generally appreciated by the tasters for whatever reason and perhaps would not appeal to me either. Then I look at the middle scores, ones in the good to very good range, which probably will be fine for my tastes. I rarely look at the top ratings because these are often very showy, limited production wines that cost half the budget of the Norwegian army. More important than the ratings are the notes that accompany them. These are better sources of information because they describe such things as flavors, alcohol levels, acidity, and tannic structure, all of which may induce me to buy, or not to buy, a bottle. Could I really care whether a wine scored 88 or 89 points on a taster’s scorecard? Would you buy an 89 rated wine because it is supposedly “better” than an 88 rated wine? I hope not.

Most of us might be surprised at how very precious German wines were at the turn of the century. Reading the 1909 catalogue of Berry Brothers and Rudd, prime London wine merchants since 1698, and still operating in the same building, it is hard to imagine quality that German Riesling was pricier than most first-growth Bordeaux and Champagne. Anyone who has tasted the delicate floral and mineral flavors of a top German Riesling will know why. But the superiority of the wine has lost some of its allure, in part because of plethora of cheap, ordinary wine for the export market, such as Liebfraumilch, which is unknown in Germany. But I suspect another the reason German wines are not more popular is the daunting wines labels, a real source of confusion for the amateur.

German law insists on specific information on the label, which actually informs the buyer of precisely what’s in the bottle. It should not be as intimidating as it seems when you first look at it because there is a logic to it. Here are the essentials for quality wines above the Table Wine (Tafelwein) or Country wine (Landwein) level:

Region—The label must tell you from which of 13 official wine regions the wine was sourced. Most imported wine comes from the Mosel-Saar-Ruwer region along the Mosel River, which meanders like a serpent for about 75 miles from Trier to Koblenz. But other regions have distinctive attributes and soils that are markedly different, particularly the Nahe and the Pfalz.

Vintage—Because Germany has a northern climate, the weather can be much more variable than in the south. However, the wines of the last decade or so—perhaps because of global warming—have a steady quality and most vintages are good to excellent. Some German wines can age, so older vintages can be very appealing.

Village and Vineyard—The village where the wine was produced is indicated with an –er suffix, such as Piesporter, meaning it comes from Piesport on the Mosel. The village name can be followed by vineyard name, indicated with an –berg suffix, such Herrenberg, “berg” meaning a slope.

Grape variety—The Riesling grape is the most common in Germany, although there are many others. Riesling reacts to German terroir as Pinot Noir reacts to Burgundian terroir; that is, it is its natural geographic home, where the flavor of the grape is best expressed.

Dry or Sweet?—Here is where it gets a bit complicated. Remember that the sweetness of the wine is not a function of the ripeness of the grape; it is the winemaker’s decision as how dry or sweet he wants to make the wine according to the tastes of the estate. There are three categories of the dry-sweet taste that will appear on the label:

Trocken means dry and has a very slight residual sugar flavor to it, but it is often insignificant. The wine is often very dry in the mouth.

Halbtrocken is semi-sweet with more sugar content, but still not enough to register as really sweet. Many wine drinkers will think of this category as reasonably dry.

If neither of these appears on the label, then the wine is sweet or very sweet, meant in effect as a dessert wine.

Ripeness—The label must indicate the ripeness of the grape when it was picked and is in the must stage. Again, these are given as several categories:

Kabinett is the lowest level of quality wines. They are very low in alcohol—sometimes about 6% to 9%–and are deliciously light, Refreshing, and generally dry.

Spätlese is sweeter and richer. It indicates that it was picked later, and therefore with more sugar and more potential alcohol.

Auslese is decidedly sweet, picked often when grapes begin to rot and have very high sugar levels.

Beerenauslese is very sweet and made from specific individual lots of dried grapes.

Trockenbeerenauslese is literally selected dry berries, a category that is superior because of its individual attention. These are made in tiny quantities and are therefore always expensive.

Eiswein is, as the name indicates, is made from frozen grapes harvested in winter. Very sweet, these are often the top of the line and the most expensive because of the individual labor to free each grape from the frozen water. They are often bottled in half-bottles and are produced in even tinier quantities. Prices are often in three figures.

There is another aspect of the label that you need to know about. You will see an indication that the wine is a Qualitätswein mit Prädikat or after 2007 as Prädikatwein. What this means is that the wine has a special quality to it, raising it well above the ordinary. To guarantee that quality, it is followed by an A. P. number (Amtliche Prüfnummer). Every bottle of a quality wine must have this coded number, as it shows that the wine was tested to verify its contents as indicated on the label. The coded number has four parts, like this: 2 577 878 0009 07. The code can be translated as the following: the first number is the region code, in this case the Mosel; the second series, 577, indicates the village, in this case Brauenberg; the next series, 878, is the code number for the winery; then, the 0009 indicates it was the ninth wine tested; and the last digits are when the wine was tested (2007).

With this information at hand, buying and enjoying a bottle of German Riesling is not as hard as it may seem. And when you do, you will know why earlier it was as expensive as Château Margaux.

All wine drinkers know that red wine usually accompanies meat and white accompanies fish. But what about sparkling wine? In the form of Champagne, we associate it with luxury food, to be drunk on special occasions such as birthdays and, of course, New Year’s Eve. It is the toast of opulence and when it is very good, it can be an amazing experience. The drawback, of course, is the price of even modest Champagne, which places it out of consumption except on special occasions. But we should not think of sparkling wine only in terms of Champagne, which surprisingly is responsible for only about 8% of the sparkling wine in the world. If you, like me, enjoy a bubbly refreshment, there are alternative choices, all of which are but a fraction of the price of Champagne, making them attractive substitute. Here are some examples:

Cava — This is sparkling Spanish wine, named after the Spanish word for “cellar,” that is produced in Catalonia. It has so often been thought of a poor cousin to the real stuff, but since its introduction in 1872, it has used indigenous Spanish grapes, which provide a wholly different character. Like Champagne, there are different degrees of sweetness, the driest being Brut nature, the sweetest Dulce. Superb as an apéritif, but I’ve drunk it with boiled shrimp.

Crémant — These are sparkling wines from other regions in France, ranging from Alsace to the southwest. They are often lighter than Champagne, less toasty in the mouth and with less froth. One of the best is the Crémant du Loire, centered around the area of Saumur, which uses Loire varieties: Chenin blanc, Chardonnay, and Cabernet franc. Crémant d’Alsace is also very light, using especially Pinot blanc, but sometimes adding Riesling, giving it a fruitier character. Don’t miss Crémant de Bourgogne either, as it is often less acidic. The version Crémant de Bourgogne Rosé is a special treat because the only grapes used are Pinot noir with a splash of Gamay.

Prosecco — An Italian sparkler, either concentrated (spumante) or with slight fizz (frizzante), that derives its name not from a location, but from the grape of that name grown in the Veneto region. Very light and refreshing, the alcohol level is usually very low, making it a perfect apéritif in the summer with its hints of fruit and flowers. In some of the restaurants I’ve eaten in around Venice, a glass of chilled Prosecco comes with the menu automatically. But beware: Prosecco will not age, so the most recent vintage is the one to be drunk. Very good, by the way, with fruity desserts, even the driest version.

There are dozens of other examples from Germany and Austria (sekt), Hungary (pezsgö), California, Australia and New Zealand, and even Chile and Argentina. All are remarkably cheaper than Champagne and all have different characters and mouthfeel. Many of the top producers treat these sparklers as a serious wine and not just a cheap imitation of Champagne. When you feel like a sparkling wine experience, and who doesn’t really, Champagne is a marvel, but interesting variants can fill the bill as well. And sometimes with a surprising panache! Try a Prosecco before lunch with a fresh strawberry in it. Or a Crémant d’Alsace with scrambled eggs. Or a Cava by itself in the garden as the grill is waiting to heat up.

I found lately that I have become somewhat obsessed with reading labels. Before buying anything edible at the grocery store, I carefully read the label to find out the composition of what I intend to eat. The only label I can’t get myself to peruse the sausage one, because, frankly, I suspect I do not want to know what’s inside. If I knew what they put into it, I would surely stop buying it. So I conveniently forget to look. Works wonders.

What about wine labels? Most of us don’t pay much attention to them, except perhaps if they are especially pretty or if they have furry animals on them. But while labels can be decorative, and ultimately serve to attract our attention, they are supposed to tell us what’s inside. In certain areas of France, for example, this is not the case. Look at a bottle of red Bordeaux and read the label. Does it tell you what type of grape the château has used? Or whether it is a mixture of several grapes and in what proportion? No. Do the same with a bottle of red Burgundy. Any indication what the contents are? No. Now look again at a bottle of Alsatian wine. Any mention of the grape type? Yes. So what’s going on here? Alsace is one of the few regions in France where the type of grape is actually indicated regularly on the label: usually a Riesling or a Gewürtztraminer.

In France, it has been the tradition for the established crus in both Burgundy and Bordeaux to label the wine by the terroir system. The label will tell you who made it, when, and particularly where, but not with what. You buy a wine according to its origin, which village in Burgundy, which clos, or in Bordeaux which château—and having confidence in the winemaker in bringing to fruition the major characteristics of that particular vineyard in that particular region. The producer and the place are considered enough to provide the guarantee of quality. However, know that all red Burgundy is made with Pinot noir, so labeling the grape type is hardly important. Same goes for the white: all of it is Chardonnay, with one exception: Saint-Bris, the only Burgundy white that does not use Chardonnay; it uses Sauvignon blanc or gris.

But in Bordeaux, it is not so simple. In that vast region, you can grow many different types of grapes and the winemaker can choose—and does—which grape variety he wants to put into the wine and in what proportion. Very rarely is any red Bordeaux a single grape type. And the bottles should tell you what goes in it, because it could help add to the choices we can make, but they do not. If I like Merlot, for example, I might wish to purchase a wine with a particularly high concentration of it. How will I know if it isn’t on the label? Moreover, the mixture changes each year depending on how the grapes grew, what ripeness, etc. To show how different some mixtures of grape types can be in a bottle of Bordeaux, here are some examples from the 2008 Bordeaux vintage: Château Lafitte is 83% Cabernet Sauvignon, 13% Merlot, 4% Cabernet Franc. Château Haut-Brion is 50% Cabernet Sauvignon, 41% Merlot, and 9% Cabernet Franc. But Château Eglise-Clinet in Pomerol is 85% Merlot and 15% Cabernet Franc.

Isn’t it time that the consumer has the right to know what kind of grapes his wine is made from without having to go on-line to try to find the answer? Generally the type of grape used to make the wine is available on the label almost everywhere else, especially in New World wines, which provide easier to read labels.

There is an exception to the rule: the wines from Germany and Austria. Browse at one and you’ll surely feel intimidated. You feel you need a codebook.

So my next “Label Babel” will give you that codebook.

Photo by bhamsandwich

When summertime is here, many of us think of rosés as thirst quenchers to be quaffed as an apéritif. It is true that many of these are meant to be no more than that, without much lingering taste or body. In the south of France, it is not uncommon to see someone order a glass of rosé in the afternoon while watching the crowd go by.

I have always liked a glass of rosé, preferably as a way of pausing while seeing sites, or cooling off. But can rosé be a “serious” wine to accompany meals? Most of us would say no, but this summer I discovered the contrary. I tasted a Haut de Smith rosé (2008), a second wine which comes from Smith Haut Lafitte in Bordeaux, whose reds and whites are impeccable – and expensive. The rosé, which in Switzerland sells for Sfr 13.80 and only about 7€ at the estate, was extremely fresh and brimming with strawberry flavors, weighty enough to drink with a light meal.

This is also true of the equally good Château d’Aquéria from the Tavel region, about the same price, which has a majority of Grenche noir from 35-year-old vines. It too had a lively flavor and weight, puckering intensity that made it a good match for Oriental food, chicken, or even a grilled steak. What made these deep rosés more memorable than the rest of the lot was the way they felt in the mouth – they stayed longer than most and cried out to have something to eat with the sips.

There are others too – think Spain – which are of the same “serious” ilk and should be part of our wine appetite. A year or too is the limit. The next time you think rosé, think food as well.

One of the most common questions bout wine is what kind of storage is best after the bottle or bottles are bought from the store. Wine cellars, in fact, have a certain mystique to them: imagine an 18th century vaulted roof cellar, cool, cobwebbed, inviting by its atmosphere. Most of us cannot possess such wonders, but modest cellars are not uncommon, even in apartments. Here are some tips on what kind of conditions you should consider in storing your wine:

1. The cellar has to be cool, calm, dark. How cool? If you are storing for a long period – years say – then rightfully the cellar should be about 13° C or about 55°F. The reason for this is that heat accelerates the maturing process. So does light, therefore a very dark atmosphere is necessary.
2. The temperature should be constant in an ideal cellar so that the maturing is process is even. Naturally most cellars will fluctuate between winter and summer unless it is extremely well insulated. Heat spikes can damage fine wine. I asked a winemaker once about my cellar which can go from 13° to 18° in the seasons. He told me not to worry unless the fluctuation is radical.
3. Wine should be stored with the bottle lying down – something we don’t often see in supermarkets. The reasons for this are many, but essentially concerns two elements: the cork and the deposit. With the bottle lying down, the cork is in constant touch with the moisture of the wine, thus keeping it from drying out and making it easier years down the road to open it easily. With the bottle lying down the natural deposits that form remain constant and in the same place, preserving the flavor and making it easier to decant.
4. The humidity should be high, about 70% or so. This to keep the cork moist, but also the label. It is also best for the maturing process.
5. Can wine be stored in the cellar in its original wooden cases? If you buy fine Bordeaux by the case, it will come in a wooden case with 6 or 12 bottles. Wood does no harm to the wine if stored in its original cases. Châteaux store them that way. But beware of cardboard boxes. If you buy a case or a half case in cardboard, take the bottles out and store them individually lying down. The humidity of the cellar will help give the cardboard a very unpleasant odor.

All of these tips are helpful if you are storing for a long time. Most of us don’t; we drink up within a year or so. However, when we should drink the wine you have so lovingly stored under really good conditions is another question that will be addressed in another blog. Don’t forget that well over 90% of all the wine produced in the world is made to be drunk as soon as it is bottled. Only  a rare number of wines – usually expensive beyond most pockets – are meant to be stored, matured, and drunk with loving affection years ahead.

Photo by Rick