Screw Kappa Napa Merlot, 2003, Napa Valley
Screw Kappa Napa struck me as an odd name for a wine — evoking images of some odd wine-sipping college fraternity. It wasn’t until I realized that the bottle of Merlot I was holding featured a screw cap closure that this clever name made sense. The wine maker claims that a screw top is a better closure than a cork, ensuring the wine maintains its character without running the risk of “cork taint,” a term that is new to me. I found that the corkless bottle only served to deprive me of the satisfying ritual of uncorking a new bottle. Part of the alure of wine is its old-world mystique, and wine without a cork just doesn’t feel right to me. Unfortunately, all this talk of bottle closure overshadows what was a very good, very satisfying Merlot.

Last weekend Mai and I packed a picnic lunch and spent the afternoon at the swanky Greenwich Polo Club, sipping wine and rubbing elbows with the rich and famous while enjoying our first polo match.  Although we didn’t know exactly what to expect, it turned out to be a lot of fun.  The games are open to anyone for a reasonable fee, and watching the horses gallop up and down the field and breakneck speeds was exciting! – as well as being a great photo-opp.

L’Ecole No 41 Columbia Valley Semillon, 2005, Washington
I was perusing the wine shop last week searching for something white, but something different. Amongst all the Chardonnays and Sauvignon Blancs I found this Semillon. By my estimation it was the only American white in the store that wasn’t a Chardonnay or Sauvignon.

In a sign of my developing passion (or is it snobbery?) I found myself sitting up in the kitchen near midnight carefully examining and tasting this wine. It was my first taste of Semillon, which is most typically used as a blending grape, meaning it’s a secondary grape that is blended with other grape varieties. In this case the Semillon received top billing in a 86% Semillon and 14% Sauvignon Blanc bottle. Interestingly, many wines are actually blends. According to American standards a wine must be at least 75% of the wine variety listed on the label to be labeled as such. (Surprise, that Pinot Noir your drinking isn’t all Pinot Noir.) Most wines don’t tell you if they are a blend, and what the contents of the blend are, but this one kindly did.

The wine was a brilliant gold color with a strong citrus smell. I believe I detected the scent of pineapple and a hint of grass. The taste was crisp and very acidic — aggressive, to use a wine term — to the point of being somewhat unpleasant. Upon further reading I learned that Semillon is one of the few white wines that can be aged, and that aging will soften acidic flavors and bring out subtle complexity. Perhaps this bottle would have benefited from a few years in my non-existent wine cellar!

Last Friday Bridget, Sergei and I played 9 holes at the D. Fairchild Wheeler golf course in Fairfield, CT. I did pretty well for my first time on a golf course, scoring two over par on five of the nine holes. I’m trying to forget about that last hole however. Do you think Tiger has ever decuple-bogied?

This photo proves that while my short game needs some work, my very short game is excellent!

The good times just keep on rolling.

Campus Oaks Old Vine Zinfandel, 2004, Lodi, CA
Since returning from France, I have decided to focus my wine tasting on American wines and varietals. My reasoning is that, with such a vast amount to learn about wine, it seems like a more manageable task to focus on a single country’s regions and varietals than to try to learn everything about everything. And of course, when labels are printed in English, it makes the wine much more accessible. Plus, I admit to a little flag waving here — American vines are just as good as any other country’s vines — and California is now considered one of the top wine regions in the world. And it always helps that good California wine can be bought at a better price than some fancy French import.

With that all said, this week I dove into an American classic, an “old vine” zinfandel. Zinfandel was long considered “America’s Wine,” though recent dna testing — yes, DNA testing — place the origins of the grape in Croatia. It is one of California’s oldest and most successful varieties, with the earliest Zinfandel vineyards dating back to the 1830s. In particular, “old vine” zinfandel refers to grapes harvested from prized “old” vines — usually 80 years or older — that produce fewer grapes but with a more concentrated flavor.

I found my first red zinfandel to be a bit of an enigma. It was a dark, full bodied red wine bursting with berry flavors, and had a strong, spicy finish. Nothing about this wine was subtle, and I found it to be both confusing and intriguing. One day I felt like the flavors were conflicted, the next day it seemed to hit the right notes. Perhaps it had to do with the food I ate with it or the temperature it was served at. Regardless, one thing this wine was certainly not was forgettable.