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Wine, Beer, and Road Trip
Some road trips require long planning. Some are just spontaneous. The road trip we took two weekends ago was somewhat in between, more on the spontaneous side. I had a Marriott certificate expiring by the end of the month, and I couldn’t let it go to waste. Balancing places I would like to visit with the low value of this certificate, travel madness ensuing in the country, and the desire to stay within a 3-hour driving radius from home narrowed down the search. The town of Reading in Pennsylvania offered a reasonable combination of all the factors I mentioned above, so this is where we decided to go.
There are many advantages when traveling by car, such as ultimate flexibility of the schedule. The ability to bring your own bottle of wine to the hotel is another big one. This is exactly what we did.
I don’t know what possessed me to bring 2016 Saxum as the wine of choice, but this is what I did. By the time we settled in the room and were ready to have a glass of wine, the day reached my favorite “Kodak moment” – the sunset. I obviously couldn’t miss such a beautiful sky painting – at the same time, I couldn’t resist an opportunity to include the bottle of Saxum in the picture. First the bottle, then the glass.
You know how they say “no people/animals/objects were damaged during the filming of this video”, right? This was not a video, just a picture. And no animals were hurt. No people were hurt either (I think?). As for the objects… Well, the glass didn’t survive my adventurous stupidity. This was a standard wine glass, which can’t really stand on top of the wine bottle. It almost felt, and I was lucky enough to catch it before it went down. Someone with a better belief in the laws of statistics would take this “almost fall” as a fair warning. But not this guy. I put the glass back and continued taking pictures, trying to get the wine label into the picture. Until glass finally met the ground (ground – 1, glass – 0), giving my wife and me an opportunity to dance next to the window sill for the next 20 minutes trying not to cut ourselves with the tiniest remnants and also remove wine traces from surrounding surfaces. Felt like an idiot for the next 2 days. Oh well – maybe I will learn? Or not…
On the positive side, the 2016 Saxum Bone Rock James Berry Vineyard Paso Robles Willow Creek District (15.9% ABV, 72% Syrah, 10% Mataro, 9% Graciano, 6% Grenache, 3% Roussanne) was absolutely surprising and spectacular. The surprising part was that this 6-year-old wine from California was perfectly drinkable upon opening – I would never expect it. The spectacular part was in the layers and gobs of fresh, succulent fruit, unending pleasure of interplay of blueberries, blackberries, cherries, and sweet oak, balancing acidity and full-bodied power each sip was offering. The wine was even better on the second day, becoming a touch more mellow. The same wine perfectly complemented the cigar on day 4. I’m sorry about the glass, but I’m really happy with my first Saxum experience.
Then there was beer. Clearly, I drink a lot less beer than wine. Nevertheless, I have a full appreciation for a glass of well-made beer (about 25 years ago I was one of the first members of the Beer Across America club, at the very beginning of the American craft beer revolution). Even more than a glass of beer, I like the opportunity to experience a tasting flight – which we found at the Chatty Monks Brewery in West Reading.
The Chatty Monks brewery binds itself as a “nano-brewery”. I have no idea what that means, I can only assume that they are implying that their production is much less than the microbrewery (microbrewery in itself is a highly contested term – for a long time Samual Adams defined itself as a microbrewery, while their volumes were clearly not at the “micro” level). Anyway, let’s leave the size aside and talk about the taste.
A tasting flight at Chatty Monks includes 4 beers which you can select from the list of beers available on tap. Out of the 14 available beers I went with Alondra which was a stout – the only dark beer available and I prefer dark beer whenever I can; Split Face which is defined as Pretzel-Style amber lager (no idea what pretzel-style means); Pray for More, a New England IPA, and Tree Trimming, which is described as “winter warmer” – again, no idea what that means.
Of these 4, we absolutely loved 3, which were each delicious in their own way. The beer lovers will have to forgive the wine lover trying to describe the beer experience, but Alondra, Split Face, and Pray for More were perfectly balanced and round, each in their own category. I rarely perceive the bitterness of the stouts, including Guinness, and the Alondra was just rich, creamy, coffee-like, and delicious. Split Face was fresh and bright, with enough body to complement fried foods. And Pray for More was probably the most exciting IPA I ever tasted – while it had the characteristic bitterness, it was complemented and leveled by bright citrus, and orange notes – altogether making it irresistible. We loved the beers so much that even got all 3 to bring home – except that Pray for More was sold out in the standard cans so we got one big 32 oz can which was made for us right on the spot. If you are ever in the area – this is the beer to crave.
We talked about wine. We talked about beer. Now, the last part – the road trip. We had more or less one full day for all of the explorations. Luckily, we had been to this part of Pennsylvania many times, so exploring Amish villages, lifestyle and museums was not on the itinerary. In addition to immensely enjoying driving around green pastures with cows, sheep, and horses, going up and down little hills on the narrow country roads, we visited a couple of places we had not seen before. One was Reading Pagoda, a fully authentic rendition of a traditional Asian structure, enacted first in 1908. Apparently, this is the only pagoda in the world with a fireplace and a chimney – which we were unable to see as the building itself was closed. But we were able to fully enjoy the views of the town of Reading, from the south end of Mount Penn where the pagoda is located. You can also see it through the lens of my trusted iPhone:
Another stop we made was to see the covered bridge called Wertz’s Covered Bridge, one of the covered bridges located in the Berks County – also the longest single-span covered bridge in Pennsylvania at 204 feet across. It was really fun imagining all of those carriages traversing the creek since 1867 when the bridge was built. You can close your eyes and hear the sound of the horseshoes hitting the wood pavement as carriages are slowly pulled through the bridge… Well, here are a few pictures, I’m sure you can add the horses as you see fit…
That makes it a full account of the wine, beer, and road trip experiences. Next, we will talk about some fun wine experiences on Cape Cod. Stay tuned…
Open That Bottle Night Eve, 2022
And just like that, Open That Bottle Night 2022 is upon us.
Considering the current state of the world, I’m really not in the mood to write about wine when people are dying because of some egomaniacal fucking moron… but based on my inability to do much anything about it, let’s still talk about Open That Bottle Night.
The Open That Bottle Night, or OTBN for short, created by Dorothy J. Gaiter and John Brecher, Wall Street Journal wine writers back in 1999, is always celebrated on the last Saturday in February. OTBN was created to help people to part with that special bottle while it still might taste great. Over the years, it became literally a holiday celebrated all around the world, with people reporting on all the amazing wines, and most importantly, amazing experiences of getting together with friends (here are my reports from the last 3 years – 2019, 2020, and 2021, plus many special reports from 2016).
This year, we had been invited to celebrate a birthday of a dear friend on that exact Saturday of the OTBN, so I have no options but to celebrate the night before or after, or maybe even both (this friend doesn’t care about wine, so combining the birthday celebration with OTBN is not an option). Thus I’m sitting here the night before the OTBN, sipping my OTBN wine and enjoying every little drop of it.
Deciding on the wine worthy of OTBN is always incredibly hard. I love aging wine, so I have a good selection, but it doesn’t mean that deciding on the bottle is easy. There are bottles that I determined to share with friends (actually, all of them, but I have to make exceptions, especially considering the lockdown life of the past 2 years). There are bottles which I don’t want to open too early. There are bottles I’m still not ready to part with. I’m telling you, people – it is difficult.
I don’t have any wine record-keeping system. I have a loose idea of the bottles I have, but I’m always ready to be surprised. Tonight, I opened one of the wine fridges, and pulled out the bottle which I had completely forgotten about – and as a bonus, this bottle also comes with a story.
Let me tell you the story first. Take a look at the label – you can see that it looks crooked and dinted. So the rips in the label are from the shelves in my wine fridge, and they are not so interesting. But otherwise, the appearance of this label has a reason. Alban wines are allocated and are hard to get. When I got my allocation some time back, I only wanted to take 2 bottles, so the friend asked if she can have the rest. She filled up the form in her name, got the full allocation, and then shipped my two bottles back to me – a bottle of Patrina Syrah and this bottle of Roussanne. For some mysterious reason, she decided to reuse the inflatable packaging which is sometimes used to ship the wine instead of cardboard or styrofoam. The problem with that air-pumped enclosure is that it is not really reusable and not that reliable. When I got the box, the red liquid was slowly sipping through – you can imagine the fate of Patrina… At least the bottle of Roussanne was intact, with the exception of the label…
Pulling this bottle out from the bottom shelf was a moment of happiness. I love Roussanne, one of my favorite white grape varieties, and for some reason, I had been really craving Roussanne lately. So seeing this bottle which I completely forgot about was a moment of joy – this was IT. A perfect bottle for OTBN.
What can I tell you about this 2013 Alban Roussanne Edna Valley outside of the fact that it offers immense pleasure? We can start with a beautiful golden color. The nose of gunflint and honey at such intensity that you simply don’t want to put the glass down. Sniff, swirl, sniff, swirl, ahh. Gunflint, honey, salinity, and sapidity on the palate. This wine is fresh. This wine is alive, with a cut-through acidity on the long, long finish. This wine is viscous, roll-off-your-tongue goodness – after taking a sip, my wife said “ooh, this wine is fat!”. This wine is perfectly OTBN worthy. Not only that – this wine is perfectly Top 10 wines worthy.
So here is my OTBN story. Even if you don’t feel like celebrating, life is now. It is happening, and no moment will repeat itself. Pull that special bottle. Open that bottle – the special moment has arrived, it is now. Cheers, my friends.
I Know Nothing. Notes From The Desk of Puzzled Oenophile
Of course, I’m aware of the proverbial circle of knowledge. When your knowledge is represented by the tiny dot, it seems that the surrounding unknown is equally tiny. As your circle of knowledge increases in size, you get to understand that the surrounding unknown is vast and grows together with your knowledge.
Nevertheless, today’s wine lesson proved that I know nothing about wines. Or maybe I am just bad at predicting the future.
A long time ago I attended a wine tasting event to celebrate the anniversary of The Wine Century Club. The event was hosted in New York by the folks from Snooth with the idea that everybody should bring a bottle or a few of the wine(s) made from rare grapes. I have no memories of the wines I brought – I believe one of them was a blend with lots of different grapes in it, but this is really not important for our story. My absolute highlight of that get-together was a bottle of Loire white wine, made from the grape called Romorantin coming from the Cour-Cheverny AOC, which I never heard of before (both grape and appellation). If I’m not mistaken this event took place in 2008, and this bottle of Romorantin was from 1998 vintage. The wine was amazing in its youthfulness and brilliance, vibrant lemon and honey, crisp and fresh. Again, if I can still trust my memory, the person who brought wine said that he (or she) got the bottle at one of the Manhattan wine stores for around $50. I made a note to myself that I want to find this wine and age it – as you know, I’m a super-fan (read: geek and zealot) of aged wines.
I think literally next year I got lucky – I found 2007 François Cazin Le Petit Chambord Cour-Cheverny AOC available at my local wine shop, for about $15 per bottle. I got 6 bottles and prepared to happily and patiently wait for the right moment to open this wine.
I don’t remember when I opened the first bottle of this, maybe 2-3 years later, and the wine didn’t wow – it was acidic all the way, without much salvation.
My next attempt to replicate the amazing experience of the first encounter with Romorantin, was made in 2014. Here are my notes:
2014
2007 François Cazin Le Petit Chambord Cour-Cheverny AOC (12% ABV, 100% Romorantin) – bright white stone fruit on the nose, citrus (lemon) notes on the palate, medium to full body, zinging acidity. It is getting there, but needs another 4-5 years to achieve full beauty and grace. 8-
As you can tell we are moving in the right direction but still far from the destination. Another year, another attempt – again, a copy and paste from the previous post:
2015
This is a rare French white wine made from 100% Romorantin grape. I remember a few years back trying this wine at 10 years of age – and I remember being simply blown away by the exuberant beauty of this seemingly unassuming wine (new vintages retail at around $15 – the QPR is through the roof on this). The nose of that 2007 was amazing, with fresh white fruit, guava, mango, honeysuckle, lemon, and lemon zest. On the palate, behind the first wave of Riesling-like appearance with a touch of sweetness and tropical fruit notes, there were layers and layers of acidity and minerality. After about 10 minutes of breathing time, the wine was almost bone dry, very crisp, and refreshing. I still have 3 bottles of 2007, and now the trick will be to keep my hands away from them, as they still benefit from time.
It is quite possible that this was this wine at its peak? The next attempt was much less successful, despite the fact that we are passing 10 years mark now. I brought the bottle to Jim Van Bergen’s (JvBUncorked) house to celebrate Open That Bottle Night 2019. I was really hoping for a “wow”, or at least an “omg” from the group, but this definitely didn’t happen:
2019
2007 François Cazin Le Petit Chambord Cour-Cheverny AOC
Why: This is one of my favorite wines. When it was 10 years old, was literally blown away
How was it: Underwhelming. A touch of petrol, clean, good acidity, bud no bright fruit. Still delicious in its own way – I would gladly drink it any time. But – lucking the “umpf” which was expected… Still have 2 more bottles – will open them later on and see.
Underwhelming was the word. Okay, down to the two bottles.
At the virtual OTBN2021, I made another attempt to experience greatness. Here’s how it went:
2021
The miracle didn’t happen, and the white wine didn’t become suddenly magical. If I need to describe this 2007 François Cazin Le Petit Chambord Cour-Cheverny AOC in one word, the word would be “strange”. At some moments, it was oxidative and plump. In other moments, it was acidic. It never showed that amazing lemon and honey notes I was expecting. I still have one more bottle, but now I really need to forget it for as long as possible and see if the miracle will happen.
And now we are down to one, my last bottle.
I was feeling blue, and I needed a “pick me up” bottle. Considering my loving relationship with wine, a “pick me up bottle” is nothing specific – it can be something very different every time. This time I wanted a white wine with some age on it. Marsanne/Roussanne would be ideal, but I had none of those. A have a few bottles of Peter Michael with a nice age on them, but this would be a bit too lavish and still not fitting the mood. And then I saw my last bottle of Romorantin, and the thought was “yeah, I can appreciate some oxidative notes right now”
The bottle is out of the wine fridge. Cork goes out in one piece with no issues. I poured wine into the glass to take a picture. Beautiful color, between light golden and golden – remember, this is 15 years old white wine.
The first whiff from the glass was clean, with lemon and minerality, an impression of a young, confident white wine. The first sip simply confirmed that first impression – whitestone fruit, crisp, minerally-driven, vibrant, and refreshing. A distant hint of petrol showed up on the nose, very faint, and a touch of honey. The wine was alive, the wine was fresh, the wine was perfect.
The wine continued its finesse on the second day (it was a heroic act of not polishing the whole bottle on the first day), behaving as young and fresh white wine of the new harvest. In a blind tasting, I would be completely sure that his wine is one or two years old at the best.
Anyone cares to explain this to me? I stored all 6 bottles the same way. Maybe the wine was strangely not ready in 2019 (sleeping stage), and last year’s bottle simply had an issue of cork? Maybe what I tasted in 2015 was actually a peak, and so this vintage needed only 8 years and not 10? Why 1998 was amazing at 10 years of age, and 2007 was amazing at 8 and 15? Vintage variations? Change in winemaking between 1998 and 2007? Wine Spectator vintage charts consider 2007 Loire wines past prime. Wine Enthusiast’s vintage rating for 1998 is 86, and 2007 is 92. And none of it helps.
If you have any ideas, please chime in.
I know nothing. But I will continue learning.
Sangiovese Games and Power of Words
Okay, folks, this might be the scariest post I have ever written. This might lead to unsubscribes, unfollows, ostracism, and public shaming. Well, it is what it is.
Here it comes, my confession.
I don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like.
Here, I said it. You heard me right, and I can repeat. I do not know how Sangiovese tastes like.
Still here? Okay, then I would like to ask for a chance to explain.
I know how Cabernet Sauvignon tastes like. Whether it is produced in Bordeaux, California, Australia or Tuscany, I still expect to find cassis, maybe eucalyptus, maybe mint, maybe bell peppers.
I know how Pinot Noir tastes like. No matter whether it comes from Burgundy, South Africa, Oregon, New Zealand, or California, I still expect to find cherries, maybe plums, maybe violets, maybe some smoke.
I can continue – I know how Chardonnay tastes like (from anywhere), I know how Riesling tastes like (from anywhere), I know how Sauvignon Blanc tastes like (from anywhere). I still don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like.
While we are talking grapes, we are also talking about the power of words. As soon as we hear Cabernet Sauvignon, Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, Riesling, Sauvignon Blanc, we have an instant mental image, set our expectations, and the first sip of wine is judged against that mental image. Of course, we make regional adjustments – Pinot Noir from Oregon might offer dark chocolate, espresso, and mocha in addition to the cherries, but cherries will be there. Bordeaux (okay, it is usually a blend, so this might be a bad example) is expected to be leaner that’s California Cab, but it will still show that cassis core. And I still have no clue how Sangiovese should taste like.
I know how Brunello tastes. It is 100% Sangiovese, but it has its own unique taste profile with layers of tart cherries and cherry pits framed by oak notes and firm tannins. I know how Vino Nobile de Montepulciano tastes. It is also 100% Sangiovese, with tart cherries usually weaved around a core of acidity. I know how Chianti typically tastes. It has to be at least 80% Sangiovese, plus other grapes, and it will have the cherries usually surrounded by leather and tobacco.
Brunello, Vino Nobile, Chianti are renditions of Sangiovese, but they are references only to themselves. When I hear any of these names, I know what to expect. But I still don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like.
I don’t know if you ever had a chance to experience Shafer Firebreak. This wine used to be made from California Sangiovese (92%) with the addition of Cabernet Sauvignon (8%), the percentages are representative of the last vintage which was in 2003 (Sangiovese plantings were removed after that). This wine had nothing in common with any of the Italian Sangiovese renditions, but instead had a smoke, espresso, and powerful dark fruit. A very memorable rendition of Sangiovese – but not referenceable.
You might be annoyed at this point by me constantly repeating “I don’t know how Sangiovese tastes like” and wondering where I might be going with that. So this post was triggered by a few events. Last year, I got a few samples of Sangiovese from Castello di Amorosa. When I tasted them, they were reminiscent of Chianti, and I even had to open a bottle of Cecchi Chianti, which is an outstanding producer making Sangiovese wines with exemplary regional expressions, to compare. I also tasted a bottle of California Sangiovese which had only a name of Sangiovese, but really tasted more like a fruit compote mixed with a fruit cake. As the end result I realized that I have no idea how Sangiovese actually should taste like – and here I am, pondering at the subject with you, my dear reader (I hope someone is still reading this, eh?)
So let me take you a bit further with a few of the tasting notes and references.
First, I have to say that I probably found what can be considered a reference Sangiovese. Two years ago I had an opportunity to taste a range of wines from Cecchi, and one of the wines was called Sangiovese Toscana IGT. It was not Chianti of any kind, it was pretty much an unadulterated rendition of a pure Sangiovese from the motherland, from Tuscany, which was not even aged in oak, only 2 months in the bottle. Here are the notes:
2018 Cecchi Sangiovese Toscana IGP (13% ABV, $10)
Dark ruby
Cherries, coriander, sage
Light, bright, fresh cherries, crisp acidity, sweet basil, refreshing.
8+, can be perfect even on a summer day, but I can’t complain on a winter day either. Unique and different.
The wine was absolutely spectacular in its pristine beauty and an absolute steal for the money. Ever since I tasted this wine it became my reference for how pure Sangiovese might take like.
Now, the peculiar California Sangiovese I mentioned before was the 2017 Seghesio Venom. 100% Sangiovese from Rattlesnake Hill in Alexander Valley, 14.9% ABV, $55. Seghesio is a Zinfandel specialist, and they are good at that. If this wine would be called Zinfandel, I would have no issue with it. But under Sangiovese name, it makes me only wonder what possessed Seghesio to make a wine like that. A fruit compote with a bit of a structure doesn’t equate to Sangiovese in any shape and form. And at the price, if you just want to drink a California wine, it might be fine, but if you are looking for Sangiovese, just look elsewhere.
Well, you don’t need to look too far. Castello di Amorosa in Napa Valley is really focusing on bringing their Italian heritage to wines they craft in California. Yesterday I talked about their range of Pinot Noir wines, which was excellent. Their California Sangiovese can probably be called a glorious success as I even had to open a bottle of classic Chianti to compare the notes.
I tasted two Sangiovese wines from Castello di Amorosa (for the history of the Castello, which is very fascinating, I would like to refer you to the link I included above).
2017 Castello di Amorosa Sangiovese Napa Valley (14.7% ABV, $36)
Dark garnet
Plums, cherries, baking spices
Plums, tart cherries, light tannins, medium body, good structure, a hint of leather.
8-/8, it is reminiscent of the Chianti, nicely approachable, but will improve with time, judging by the late tannins on the finish on the second day.
2018 Castello di Amorosa Voyager Vineyard Sangiovese Napa Valley (14.5% ABV, $45, single vineyard)
Dark garnet
Smoke, granite, gunflint, tobacco, dark fruit, Very promising.
Tobacco, baking spices, cut through acidity, medium body. Very unusual. Needs a bit of time.
Tart cherries, a hint of vanilla, bright acidity. Reminiscent of Chianti, but not as earthy
8-
And then I opened a bottle of Cecchi Chianti and was pleasantly surprised how successful Castello di Amorosa was with their Californian Sangiovese rendition.
2017 Cecchi Chianti DOCG (13% ABV, $14)
Dark garnet
Herbs with a hint of cherries
Tart cherries, good acidity, fresh berry profile, medium body. Was earthy upon opening, but mellowed out after a few hours in the open bottle.
8-, easy to drink, nice.
As you can tell, the wines are similar, and I would call it a very successful effort.
Well, I still don’t know how Sangiovese should taste like, because this is all in the words. Unless we taste blind, we are bound by the power of words, and therefore our excitement and disappointment are fully dependent on those words. Was the Venom a bad wine? No, but it is an utter disappointment when called a Sangiovese. Thanks to Castello di Amorosa successfully offering a saving grace. While I still don’t know how Sangiovese should taste like, I’m willing to continue the quest for the tastiest rendition.
If you are still with me – thank you for reading and cheers.
Looking Back and Looking Forward, 2022 Edition
Ahh, the self-reflection time.
The bad, the good, the ugly.
New Year resolutions.
Yada Yada Yada.
Okay, I know. Not the most enlightening post if I ever even write anything in that category. But hey, it is my blog. I write for myself, first and foremost. So as I get to set the rules here, I like to take a look back at the year which passed and get a little pleasure of re-living some of the best moments of otherwise not the brightest year.
New Experiences:
More often than not, I like to call myself a “collector of experiences” – I love those non-material things which you can add to your personal “been there, tried that” collection. While in absolute numbers these “achievements” sound dismal, under circumstances they are perfectly sufficient in my book.
Visiting new wine region
I visited Oregon on a number of occasions, and wrote about Oregon wines in this blog many times – but it was only 2021 when I set foot in the vineyard in Oregon, thanks to the Wine Media Conference 2021 held in Eugene, Oregon. Not only I visited a number of wineries in Oregon, but I also saw veraison for the first time, and tasted lots and lots of delicious wines, as reflected [dis]appropriately in the list of Top Wines of 2021 (more about it below).
Wine from the new state in the US
When I say that I’m collecting experiences, I mean exactly that – I keep track of how many wines from how many states I tasted, and in how many states I visited wineries. While Oregon was added to the list of states I visited the wineries at, I also tasted the wine from Michigan for the first time, and it was an excellent Cabernet Franc from Bel Lago. I keep my progress noted in this table in case you are interested.
Wine from the new country
Same as the wines of 50 United States, I also keep track of wines from different countries that I had an opportunity to taste. This year I added one of the oldest winemaking countries in the world to the list, after tasting the wines from Armenia. The wines were outstanding and Keush sparkling even made it into the Top Wines list. Same as with the 50 states, here is the table where I mark my progress.
More rare grapes
Ever since I had been bitten by The Wine Century Club bug, I had been hunting down rare grapes. This year I made possibly the slowest progress ever, but this journey is not getting any easier at this point. I only added 6 new grapes to the count (Cabernet Pfeffer, Voskehat, Khatouni, Areni, Yapincak, Ciass Negher), which now stands at the grand total of 561.
Top Wines 2021:
Same as every year, this was a fun project to go through the list (big word here – there is no such thing) of all the wines I tasted in 2021, and select 26 to be split into Second (generous) Dozen and the Top Dozen. Considering that visit to Oregon to be the biggest highlight of the year, it is not surprising that the top list is heavily skewed towards Oregon wines – still, it offers quite a bit of diversity as it is. My list of 26 is an easy one to analyze compared to all of the Top 100 lists I processed this year, so here is my distribution of the wines in the top list: Oregon – 8, California – 7, Spain – 5, Italy – 2, Argentina – 1, Armenia – 1, Pennsylvania – 1, Texas – 1. As you can see, France makes a notable absence, but the list clearly reflects my wine drinking habits – and I stand by all of my choices.
The year of Organic Grapes:
Made with Organic Grapes was one of the hot subjects in the blog (check the posts for yourself). In 2021, I tasted and wrote about multiple organic wines from multiple producers from Argentina, Chile, Italy, New Zealand, Spain – and I’m sure I will write about a lot more organic wines this year.
Catching up:
Much to my chagrin, I was really late with many of the posts, writing about events and tastings some of which were more than 2 years old. I really made an effort in December to clear up the backlog, turning it into one of the most prolific blogging months ever with 21 posts – in my almost 12 years of blogging there were very few months with 21 posts, and even fewer with 22. Catching up is not fun, but remembering about things you didn’t deliver is even less fun. There is more catching up to do, so I definitely hope I will be able to continue the streak.
What’s in the store for 2022:
My New Year resolution is not to have any New Year resolutions, so I can’t tell you really what’s ahead. Last year, I was keen on continuing the Wine Quiz and Wednesday Meritage series of posts, only to run out of steam somewhere in the middle of the year. So the plan for 2022 is to use a more opportunistic approach – there is no shortage of wine subjects worth writing about. I also need to up my wine game by paying more attention to French, Australian, and South African wines – I want to fill that gap for the 2022 Top Wines rendition.
* * *
Here we are, my friends. A quick revisit of 2021, and mostly hope for the good year 2022 with good surprises. I know that hope is not a strategy, but if I learned anything from my years of blogging, it would be proverbial “the road to hell is paved with good intentions”. So how was your 2021? Any plans for 2022? Cheers!








































