Monday, January 18, 2016


...apart from the story in the Gospel according to John, which I had hammered into me early in my Presbyterian Period (is that like Devonian or Cretaceous?) my initial encounter with the mythical figure came thanks to Alfred Lord Tennyson, who offered little new beyond adding a little seasoning of rhyme to the parable. My first meeting with a different sort of metaphorical Laz came thanks to an early acquaintance with the angry Anglo-Irishman who remains to this day my favourite poet, William Butler Yeats.

One of his very literary and barely-stageable plays, Yeats’s Calvary presents a different sort of resurrected Lazarus, one who angrily upbraids the Saviour:

                        For four whole days
I had been dead and I was lying still
In an old comfortable mountain cavern
When you came climbing there with a great crowd
And dragged me to the light.

Lazarus goes on to bellyache even further about not being allowed to remain comfortably and snugly deceased... 

But here, a bottle of wine from out of the tomb!

Friday evening found me in the kitchen making a racket with the pots and pans...
Wanting to move away from my traditional salmon sauce of mustard and lime, I kept the ginger and searched the deepest depths of my former sample-cellar for some superannuated bottle to go in the pot. What bottle of which wine – ostensibly way after its time – did I find?

Josef Umathum, Traminer (Gelber & Roter) 2008

But preparatory to shredding the ginger (gingembre, zenzero, Ingwer) I tasted the wine. Wow! Decided to drink it instead; saved salmon for the morrow, defrosted some sausages, rerouted the baby spinach from salad to skillet and had at it:
– first a simple salad with half an alligator pear and some Kalamata olives.
– Italian sweet sausages (from the local butcher) in cast iron with wilted spinach, one scallion (an expensive scallion, now up to $2 per bunch in the supermarket) and pignole nuts over penne pasta with olive oil and aceto balsamico

I loved Gewurztraminer when I first started with wine, preferably the French version from Alsace without the ü... which I quickly outgrew, abandoning it for Chenin Blanc and Riesling and other varieties with more actual gitupngo. Best ever was a Domaine Weinbach Furstentum Vendanges Tardives 1989 with Kathy Faller at her estate in 2000, exceptional partially because my hostess paired it with a wonderful slice of ripe Münster that had turned to fromage... The Austrian Traminer, whether Gelber or Roter or blended, is typically more delicate than the Alsace version – my historical favourite has been the Roter Traminer from Lackner-Tinacker...

But back to Mister Umathum. This Burgenländer I had thought to have been four-little-paws-up-in-the-air. Was not. Most certainly not.

Medium gold, aromas slightly attenuated, more floral than spicy; a marked patina (the Germans say Firne) to the nose, but nothing oxidised. Very generous fruit on the palate, pears and passion fruit, bit of mango with a coating of caramel, floral still and a good balancing bit of acidity going down the hatch. Lovely finish aromatics (I guess one is supposed to say retronasal nowadays...) floral as could be. The sort of wine one tends to drink by itself before drinking other wines, but a bottle that did very well with the savoury element in the rather hearty and unsubtle dish.

Umathum’s more modest wines can sometimes live long and useful lives. Four years ago as part of VieVinum there was a Sankt Laurent dinner at Restaurant Hansen in Vienna. Where Pepi’s entry level 1991 SL at 20 years of age was one of the stars – even with bottles from Pittnauer, Schloss Gobelsburg and other luminaries on the table...

Monday, November 24, 2014

... a boy and his wok, chapter one ~

    when I was a windy boy and a bit...

that's the start of a famous poem by Dylan Thomas, but having been myself at one point a windy boy, I am reminded in reading this of a time in my career when I set about to learn all that I might about matters of interest spread out far and wide—
which led the spread of course to include food and wine.

I remember the first time I made a terrific mess of a match. I was just learning my way around the vineyards of France, and learning the intricate routes and branches of my own batterie de cuisine.

one night I had my favorite nonhorizontal girlfriend over for dinner at my grad-stoodent digs in Boston. I had recently learned about ginger, which to this day is one of the signature elements that sails forth from my wok or sauté pan (often with a bit of garlic on its breath)...

and I was learning about what goes with ginger; one of these things is honey. And I hadn't become as shy of commercial chicken at that point as I am now, so was quite pleased to concoct a concoction of chicken breasts with ginger and limejuice and honey, and not much else except rice and lima beans, steamed both.

I had also just discovered Sauvignon Blanc. And along with this came the realization that the best SBs come from lands laid out along a little lazy waterway called the Loire... in a far-off wine-producing nation, name of France.
...and so I served a really nice bottle of Pouilly-Fumé from Baron de Ladoucette—
alongside the dish that would coldbloodedly murder it.

imagine the smoky and tart, bracing character of the sauvignon being turned to bitter and angry—the ginger was not at fault, but rather the stuff out of the Pooh-bear jar and the lime. Ouch! One too sweet, the other too acidic... and wine caught right in the pincers’s grippington...

my dinner guest was gracious and patient with me; the friendship survived, and I am proud to say that I have never had such a hazardously wasted wine experience since then—although my career of trial and error still involves much in the way of error.

Thursday, November 6, 2014

Austrian Reds in NYC, 15 October 14 at The Modern...

Foto ÖWM here is the little ditty that I wrote for the tasting book of the Austrian Wine Marketing Board’s presentation in New York last month... a sort of an introduction—the only guideline I was given by the AWMB was to concentrate on the themes of ageability and collectability.
...and I would certainly say that this collaborative effort between the AWMB and Wein Burgenland did a better than merely good job of putting a great number of noteworthy examples together, articulating what has truly been a significant achievement that’s taken place over the past couple decades.

—— Versatile, Ageable and Collectible...
One of wine’s greatest 20th-century minds (and palates) wrote:
I know a country where the beneficial effect of wine is well understood.
It is drunk as a tonic, a stimulant, or simply because one is happy.
No, it’s not France; it is Austria...

This observation from Émile Peynaud’s coffee-table tome Le Gout du Vin—written by a Frenchman in 1980, well before “modern” Austrian wine came onto the stage; before there was a Vinea Wachau or a “Red Wine Wonder...”

Austria is a wine-culture. Not for naught does the name of her capital city Wien come close to that of the native beverage Wein. Rather, Austria has several wine-cultures folded in upon one another, its individual components as distinctive as Steiermark and Burgenland, Schilcher and Chardonnay (plus the 1500 acres of vines growing within Vienna’s city limits).

With this: every Austrian wine is a food wine. The flavors of Austrian Red grew up in Burgenland (until 93 years ago German West Hungary), alongside the Mangalitza pig, spicy paprika and Blaukraut. Austria’s contemporary wine culture and her thriving culinary scene have crosspollinated one another as if the very best and busiest of bees were at work in the garden. One significant aspect of the nation’s great wealth lies in her three native red grape varieties: Blaufränkisch, Sankt Laurent and the excellent crossing of those two, Zweigelt. All three are distinctive, and each one is uniquely Austrian.

These wines are to the table born. In the context of complex and complicated flavors, matters of umami or savory, Blaufränkisch will go fearlessly where other red wines fear to tread. The utterly sublime way in which Blaufränkisch insinuates itself among intricate food-flavors offers a challenge to the very finest wines of France, Italy and Spain. Of course there’s also the traditional “red wine with red meat and game,” where the Blaufränkisch also proves sauce for the wild goose as well as for the Gosht Biryani.

Sankt Laurent will behave in many ways like its illustrious relative Pinot Noir, except that the variety is also capable of soaking up a heroic amount of hotpeppery spice—to an extreme where even Zinfandel or Teroldego Rotaliano would beg for mercy—and offers a magnificent outside perspective to the subtle flavors of the sushi bar.

Zweigelt has a wonderful way around the Tandoori spice-box, and is extremely good with high-class Mexican preparations—Molé or Adobo, for example. And then there’s the grill and the barbecue; this variety plays very well alongside heat and zesty seasonings.

Austrian red wines are ready to take their place alongside those of Burgundy, Piedmont & Bordeaux as items to tuck away in the treasured depths of the cellar, awaiting the time when elements of thirst, cuisine and conviviality align themselves to produce that certain moment.

Currently: after having gone through an inevitable period of stylistic internationalism as young winegrowers returned with new techniques from their travels in America and Australia, New Zealand and France, Austria’s estates are now producing red wines that can only be made in Austria, and only from Austria’s native vines. This is a remarkable achievement in a relatively short period of time; what discriminating collector would not wish to have these sophisticated and distinctive bottlings in his/her cellar?

Tasting several dozen 2010 Zweigelts in Vienna two years ago, I realized that I would’ve happily drunk most of them. (In this difficult vintage many growers had expended extra effort getting the most out of their Blaufränkers and cuvées, letting the Zweigelt take care of itself—with delicious results.) Would I cellar them? Good question. I have typically thought Zweigelt more suited to the pantry, although certainly good for a few years. Of course there have always been exceptions like Schwarz Rot or Josef Umathum’s Ried Hallebühl, both from Burgenland’s Neusiedlersee district, which certainly repay patience. 

Sankt Laurent lives by a learning curve similar to Pinot Noir. A 2003er from Hannes Schuster drunk two years ago in a swish downtown Vienna restaurant not only handled the great ripeness of that hot vintage very well, but was also developing its secondaries with charm and style. No longer dwindling in acreage, more growers—especially in Northern Burgenland and the Thermenregion—have become convinced that this variety is indeed worth the trouble (considerable) involved in its cultivation and vinification.

Of course the star of the show as far as ageability goes is Blaufränkisch and the cuvées based on it. Wines from the 1999 vintage are becoming harder to find, but one taste of a 99er Kollwentz Steinzeiler or Paul Achs Ungerberg will convince even the most recalcitrant skeptic. Weingut Prieler’s Goldberg 2002 is just heavenly these days. 2002 Moric Alte Reben Lutzmannburg (a significantly less aggressive style) has developed equally well, with no sign of tiring. Perhaps in ageing these wines one might think of them in the way we do Loire Valley reds—great fun to drink while they are still young, but when we come across an old Chinon “Les Picasses” from Olga Raffault, oh what a treat that is!

From the Spitzerberg in Carnuntum down the length of Burgenland southward, from Gols to Leithaberg, Mittelburgenland and Eisenberg, excellent acidity and refined tannins recur as common themes in the current batch of Blaufränkisch. These factors are sure to promote ageability and prolonged development; the current trend away from new oak is a positive influence. The deep and compelling flavors of this noble grape become more readily apparent, now that the fruit is no longer so frequently lost in the lumber. Growers who produce monovarietal Blaufränkisch often have their eye on the Côte d’Or and Piemonte—and while the variety’s intrinsic characteristics differ from those of Pinot Noir and Nebbiolo, Blaufränkisch shows a similar propensity for transmitting the message of the soils in which it was grown to the taster as do its venerable cousins from France and Italy. As those wines grow more (and more) expensive for the collector, Austrian Blaufränkisch will seem a very wise choice.                

Tuesday, September 9, 2014

Mistresses of Wine?

congratulations to all who earned this tough honour!

among these new Masters of Wine, four out of six persons are female...

only problem here is that – like a couple years back, when two African-American head coaches faced each other in the NFL Super Bowl – we notice this.