Wine Culture

Three months now since I moved to Napa Valley. Where does the time go! An alarming amount of it seems to have been spent spraying Wine Away on red wine spilled on my white carpet and then blotting it up with paper towels. Any landlord who rents an apartment with white carpeting to a wine professional is placing their property in grave danger.

Anyone trying to impress with their “wine acumen” will often spout off statements like, “Ah, this was an excellent year for Cabs!” or “Egad! I refuse to order any bottle from that vintage!” But what the heck is the secret to knowing good vintages from ones to avoid?

This time of year, the weather in the Russian River Valley can only be described as perfect. Nah, that doesn’t necessarily do it justice. Ideal? Boring. Ahhhh. Epic. The weather is epic. The sun combined with the lush scenery just begs you to take your glass of Pinot Gris (or pick your favorite poison) and enjoy an outdoor picnic with your family. (Insert record needle scratch sound here.) Did he write “enjoy a picnic with your family?” At a winery?

The first time I really thought about Soave wine, it wasn’t in a very complimentary way. My husband and I dubbed Soave “airplane wine” because it was served on every single flight we took into or out of Italy. We groaned when we saw the labels on those tiny bottles. Couldn’t the airlines think of some other kind of wine to serve?

Joining a club is sort of like joining a gym only you don’t have to drink wine every single day to feel like you’re getting your moneys worth. Or maybe it’s not like joining a gym at all but just an excuse to feel extra special. And these days there aint no half steppin’ when it comes to committing to a wine club. If you dig all the wines from a certain producer than more then likely you’ll dig the club. Ya dig?

While shopping for wine way back in my early, overly enthusiastic days, I would commonly hear knowledgeable shopkeepers say lines akin to, “Oh, it’s relatively young now. So if you can’t wait, decant it for a couple of hours and it should be great.” Once I heard this, I took note and committed it to memory.

There are few people who have thought harder or more comprehensively about where the French wine industry has been and where it is heading than author Andrew Jefford. In his book, The New France , Jefford delves deep into seemingly every angle of importance regarding French wine. The reviews have been uniformly exceptional.

I've been living in Napa Valley for two full months now and many things have changed in my life since I first arrived. For example, the first thing that now pops into my head when I see the letters "NV" is no longer "Non-Vintage."

“Tell us what we should be tasting,” asked a group of four on vacation from Ohio. (The Russian River Valley, it turns out, seems to be a popular vacation destination for Ohio residents. We get handfuls of ‘em every week.) “Well…let me ask you this: What do YOU taste?” While I am genuinely interested and curious, I also wonder - who am I to tell them what they taste? I don’t have any clue what kinds of flavors their taste buds register. For the next 10 minutes – this group of Ohioans engaged in a somewhat spirited debate about the wine.

One of the great varietals in the world is undoubtedly Sauvignon Blanc. With a history dating back centuries, wines made from this very special grape have played major roles in establishing some of the world’s finest wine regions. When fermented dry, Sauvignon makes some of the easiest-to-appreciate, crisp, expressions of green apple, wild grasses, and citrus. Sweet wines made from the grape are typically profound expressions of honey and spice. However, making memorable Sauvignon is not a process lacking in challenges.