Saint-Emilion

Because we simply had not yet exhausted our thirst for wine yet, Jess, Kate and I decided to do a little more wine adventuring around Bordeaux. On the way to their friends' wedding we took leisurely drive through the country and stopped at a tasting room in Graves on the way. We learned a little bit about the white wines from Aquitane and gawked at the hugest bottle of wine I've ever seen. I have no idea how huge it was, but it must have been at least twice the size of a magnum. I can't believe I haven't seen one in the states--it was totally supersized.

The next day I picked up the girls again after a long night of French-style partying (a five hour dinner followed by dancing til 6 am) and we took an hour's drive to the picturesque town of Saint-Emilion. The city evolved from the lonley hermitage of a monk, to a community of small religious community and lately to one of the most expensive wine regions in France. The grand cru vineyards that surround the stone village are perfectly manicured and pristine. We started with a tour of the old hermitage and moved on to the catacombs and finally the underground cathedral. According to our guide, the massive underground chapel was originally a natural cave, but thanks to the thousands of years of use as a stone quarry for the village, the space eventually became so vast that it was appropriated for religious use. It was might impressive. Especially when you returned above ground to see that sitting right on top of this massive hole in the ground is an equally massive bell tower made from a monolith...that's right, a steeple made from one giant hunk of stone, sitting on top of a huge underground dome. I tried not to think about it too hard, otherwise I might have started hyperventillating about the amount of time I had spent down there.

The town itself is quite charming, but definitely means business. All you can find are high end wine shops and fancy restaurants. So we went with the flow and took a self-guided tour of some extensive wine cellars and ducked into a couple of shops to taste the fancy wine.




For dinner we found a little restaurant overlooking the city and had some delicious tartine (the French version of bruschetta).

The next morning the ladies flew back to NYC and I returned to work in the vines at Brandeau. The countdown for my return to the States has begun...

An Amazing Weekend in Bordeaux

Darling sister and sister-in-law came to France last week for a wedding and stayed for a bit in Bordeaux, which gave me the perfect excuse to spend some time in the beautiful old city. It's truly gorgeous, with little narrow alleyways, a lovely old cathedrals and tons and tons of little squares, each of them with their own unique vibe...a brand new universe every few blocks.

Kate & Jess arrived just in time for the Fete le Vin on the riverfront, a huge celebration of Bordelaise wines. We walked along the water, tasted as much of the many varieties as we could handle in the heat and eventually ended up cooling off a very smart water feature in the Place de la Bourse called the miroir d’eau. It is a black granite pool with about 1/2 inch of water, making it the perfect spot to cool your toes on a hot summer day. When we were just about dying of the heat and red wine, we came upon the square just teeming with kids and parents having the greatest time in the shallowest pool I have ever seen. There were toddlers splashing, little kids chasing each other and one enthusiastic young boy on a scooter cutting a truly narley wake in the pool. Then, all of the sudden, the water drained out and the entire pool turned into a mist machine. Collectively the entire square breathed a little sigh of relief and went quiet, suddenly shrouded, walking slowly and mysteriously across the square.

Other than the wine festival, there was a lot of good food to be had. Jess and I went a little nutty in a chocolate shop and ordered every flavor of macaroon our hearts desired...rose, lavender, noisette, pistachio. The pastries reminded me of miniature candy hamburgers, but much more delicious. Kate promptly squished them to smithereens in her bag, but the crumbs were still delicate and delicious.

I also got to try my first plate of escargot. The little buggers really appealed to my well-known obsession with circles. They were served in a round ceramic dish with six tiny circular indents that perfectly fit the shells. The special utensil for grabbing the little buggers was a circular tong to hold the shell while digging out the delectible morsel inside. Mine were steamed and then topped with butter and pesto...similar in texture to a perfectly cooked mussel; I can see why they're such a delicacy here. I don't think I will ever be able to look at those garden pests again without briefly entertaining culinary daydreams. Just as we were finishing our dinner that evening, we heard some commotion on the street and knew that the fireworks were beginning for the festival. As were wandered down the plaza, we could hear the big, full orchestra music and see the pink flashes in the sky.

The next day all three of us were feeling wilted from the heat and decided to take a little road trip to the Atlantic coast to cool off. We'd heard tales of La Dune du Pila, a huge sand dune a hour away, the largest in France. Supposedly the thing just kept growing and growing over the years, swallowing trees even hotels. Finally someone put a stop to the horror movie madness and they planted a whole forest of pine trees to tame the monstrous sand dune. Now its a tourist attraction with a HUGE set of stairs to the top...you know, accessible. So we climbed and climbed to the top and when we finally arrived we saw that the dune just kept going and going off into the distance. It was like being on the set of Laurence of Arabia. And the view of the calm little harbour below was fantastic and extremely enticing.



After stumbling to the bottom for a quick swim and then heroically climbing back up to the top in the mid-day heat, we were ready to reward ourselves with some sea-side snacking. For a while we drove around the tiny villages, looking in vain for a simple meal of ocean critters, and we finally happened upon the haven that is Papa's Restaurant. In the town of Arcachon was a Basque bistro serving up both fresh oysters and plates of moule-frites. We gladly partook of both and had the pleasure of being served by the fat, red-cheeked Papa himself. In between singing, shouting at his equally jolly wife and entertaining his five-year-old grandson with the radio on his Gold Wing, Papa kept us happy with bubbly drinks and plates of tasty mollusks. We arrived back in Bordeaux that evening in time for an ice cream cone and another round of festival fireworks.

P.S. This has absolutely nothing to do with the narrative, but I loved this photo and had to share it. Kate bought yogurt for a car snack, but there were no spoons in sight. So we improvised and made our own go-gurts. Totally clever until she started slurping the last dregs...and then giggling...and then almost choking and wrecking the car. Brilliant.

Wine Makes Me Feel Dumb, But It Sure Does Taste Good!

Having friends in the wine business really pays off. My lovely friend Elly, co-owner of Proof Wine Marketing, has been a major blessing in my life in so many ways, and I'm not even talking about all the cool wine events that she manages to get me invited to. Last week we both found ourselves in Portland. She was there for the International Pinot Noir Festival. I was there on my way from San Luis to Seattle. Lovely lady that she is, Elly invited me to come wine tasting with her at a few places before the festival officially commenced. Being unemployed, free and socially acceptable drunkenness in the middle of the afternoon sounded like a fine idea indeed.

We visited three wineries specializing in Oregon pinot noir. Apparently Oregon pinot is like manna from the gods if you're a wine geek, which of course is why the festival is in Portland. Here I must insert that I know absolutely nothing about wine. My decisions about purchasing it boil down to two very simple questions: 1) does the label look cool? and 2) is it under $10? I cannot tell the difference between a fine wine and 2 buck chuck. Personally, I think this makes me the ideal tasting companion--I can be effusive and complimentary to any winemaker because it all tastes great to me!

This tasting tour was not your run of the mill, 5-varieties-in-30-minutes-while-getting-your-wine-poured-by-an-20-year-old-viticulture-student-"don't-you-want-to-join-our-wine-club?" schpeel. We actually got to hunker down with each of the winemakers for a couple of hours, walk through the vineyards and taste from the barrels. This was insider wine tasting. It gave me a whole new appreciation for the process, of particular interest since I've been boning up on my plant knowledge for my farming stint in Hawaii.

Here are just a couple of things that I learned about wine that maybe you didn't know either:
1) Everything from the mineral content of the soil to the amount and timing of rainfall effects the flavor of the grapes
2) That contraption they use to taste from the barrels is called the thief and the hole in the barrel they draw it out of is called the bung-hole. (Here my inner linguistics geek rapturously squeals!)
3) When they treat the wooden barrels for wine fermentation, it's called "toasting" the barrel. This makes me think of warm buttered toast and makes me really happy. I started imagining that I could taste it in the wines and frankly it made me like them even better. (This was sign number one that I should have spit like everyone else.)

Forgive me if you know all this already, but frankly I found it fascinating. It was amazing to see these winemakers who control everything from the vine to the bottling with such care and attention. These artisans were way passionate amassing knowledge about agriculture, new technology, marketing and of course good wine and food. I had no idea wine making was so cool. I love folks that really geek out on shit and everyone we met was totally freaking on making the best pinot noir possible. My inner dweeb felt a kinship. It could have been the six solid hours of guzzling wine, but I choose to believe that I simply have an appreciation for folks with a passion.