http://mendozavino.blogspot.com/We sneakily wandered onto the property of El Cerno Artisan Bodega to snoop on our soon to be neighbors. We were quickly spotted by Christian as he drove up the gravel driveway. He pulled up beside us and greeted us in English, noticing we were tourists-like looking for, none other than, a tour. He parked his beater of a car and asked us to wait a moment while he searched the Bodega for his buddy Pedro, whom I assume was meant to be on the look out for meandering tourists. We stood at the back of the bodega and waited while his fruitless echoes bounced around the corridors of the cement vats. Pedro! Pedro!
Pedro-less, Christian agreed to conduct the tour solo, he lead us to the front of the winery where we discovered a confused group of sightseers who were waiting to be guided through the wonders of wine making as well. A Dutch couple and two young glob trotting backpackers joined us. We all happily shelled out the menial fee of 15 pesos per person and we began.
Christian started by telling us that Cerno means heart wood, the hardest most center part of a tree that has been wrapped in layers of age. He brought our attention to the opposing entry of the small and rustic bodega and explained that the grand doors were salvaged, by the owners, from an old bank in Buenos Aires.
The two ornate wooden doors stood proud and tall, slightly ajar casting light into the dark and narrow passage where small gate like valves lined the concrete fermentors walls at about knee height. Christian explained that behind the thick concrete walls were the epoxy lined cement tanks where grapes were transformed into a magical liquid. Describing the wine maker’s, preferred method of pumping the clear sweet fermenting juice over the dense mash of skins and pips every six hours for two days to extract the desired colors, aromas and tannins before raking of the clear wine leaving the deflated skins behind.
The smell of over sweet grape juice and wet pavement filled the air, and we proceed to the next portion of the expedition. “Beneath us is the cellar or cava in Spanish” he told us as he escorted the group down a steep flight of stairs that were slick with condensation. The cellar is exactly what you would imagine a wine cellar to look, smell and feel like. Dark, dank and dimly lit in places, low ceilings, with heavy stone archways lead you from each damp cool room to the next. Oak barrels marked by numbers staked in a corner to be forgotten until the winemaker deems them ready. Other small cavernous closet like spaces were filled with unlabeled bottles locked behind heavy iron bars to age further.
Christian gathered the group at the furthest end of the dungeon, where he mindfully answered the crowd’s questions. He explained that an oak barrel infuses its flavor into wine for up to three years, and that El Cerno used both American and French oak. He told us of barrique makers who were developing square barrels for easier stacking, and taught us the term micro-oxygenation, the process where each barrel bleeds tiny amounts of air into the aging wine morphing the drink into something divine.
At the other end of the cellar Christian informed us of all the wines El Cerno proudly releases and how they were tiered. The Philosopher their most limited bottle, only 900 released this vintage, is a meritage of the best grapes from the best vineyards, “and when you drink it you become a philosopher of course” chuckled Christian. Wyana, El Cerno’s version of a vino joven, or young wine which was a bright and fruity blend meant to be poured down your gullet within the year and line of “vino roble” or oak aged varietal wines in Malbec, Cabernet Sauvignon and Syrah. He showed us how each bottle is labeled by hand with some primitive looking apparatus by two ladies who sit in the darkness and eyeballed the placement of each label.
He directed the group back upstairs to the tasting hall and wine shop. A large barn like room with hand crafted chunky wooden furniture lacquered in a honey glisten. A grand wine alter displayed all the wines of El Cerno, and charming hand painted plaques featuring common descriptors adorned the wall behind it. He explained the tasting process while demonstrating it himself. He then handed out two samples to each person.
“In the big glass I’ve poured you cabernet sauvignon, and in the little one I’ve poured Malbec” he told us while swirling his wine into a purple whirlpool. He inhaled the vapors that were released from the centrifugal force, and exhaled words describing his sensations. “Plum and red fruit are gifts from the sacrificial grape, chocolate and leather are given to us for our patience during the aging process” he explained.
You were easily captivated by his deep Antonio Banderas voice, and shinny shoulder length locks. His eyes were closed and he was swept up in a sensory moment. Many people have been on this journey with Christian, and still I felt caught in his moment. Time had stopped, except for us. I was entirely in his now. I was inspired and intrigued and found not only him but the entire operation fascinating.
Elated to learn that our neighbors had a porthole to another world, I gladly obliged when they offered me a second drink. I have been over there since seeking enlightenment from the intoxicating beverage it’s self. I have converted and my faith is growing stronger. Like a Zen master I am beginning to understand the mantra, living in the now. There is a place where stillness exists, and it is levitating as an invisible force in the space between you and the wine in your glass. You can find your perfect self here. Peace in wine is my new peace of mind.
Monday, September 24, 2007
Tuesday, September 18, 2007
Chasing the Wine Rabbit
As wine drinker’s we seek to experience enlightening new flavors, labels and pairings, but we are continuously plagued with ongoing wine questions. How do we know if what we are experiencing is divine insight into the world of wine or just a hoax an opinion that holds no truth? We hear talk of experts with godly palates, and we ask ourselves, what is an expert palate anyways and how do you acquire one? We throw philosophical wine questions out into the wine universe and wait for Dionysus and Bacchus to miraculously throw something back. A wine muse has appeared and it challenges us to find our own answers.
Sinking into cerebral reality to look for a resolution, in the dark space behind the eyes where anything is possible. A painted landscape of fabulous green presents it’s self. We rest beneath a huge tree to ponder our queries, and just as the first question escapes our lips it is interrupted by a frantic flurry of words scurrying past us in ball of illegible white letters. Letting our minds chase the frenzied orb it quickly disappears down a black hole escaping deeper in the subconscious. Hesitating for a moment, but feeling we have no choice we jumped in after it.
Falling deep into the depths of the mind we can see the word creature spinning in the distance. We yell our question into the darkness “What is an expert palate anyways?”, and to our surprise the little ball starts to throw words back. “Expert” and “palate” zoom by. Totally confused we scream “What is an expert”, and before we can say anything words are being whipped towards us: a specialist, an authority, a professional, or a connoisseur. The words stop for a second, but another group comes barreling through the air: to be practiced, skilled and knowledgeable.
Out of sheer reflex we grab the rocketed words that are whizzing by us. The moment we touch them they shrink into the palm of our hands, and for some unknown reason we can’t resist the urge to swallow them. Suddenly there is a gurgling in the pit of our stomachs a churning; the words are doing summersaults in our bellies. Like we have ingested a magic word pill a definition takes shape in the mind. An expert is a person who practices a skill to gain knowledge in which he/she gains the title of specialist, professional or connoisseur making them an authority on the subject.
Starting to understand this little word creature’s game we yell out its other word in question form “what is a palate?” Groups of words start flying in our direction: to have a taste for, to have an appetite for. Still descending into an abyss we are not satisfied and we pressure the creature to expand his word chain. “What does it mean to taste?” We shout at the wordy whirlwind spiraling in the void. A series of words are hurled through the air: to try, test or sample, quickly proceeded by the words: to discriminate, refine and pass judgment.
Snatching the words from the air and gulping them down as quickly as possible we reply “What does it mean to have an appetite for?” Without delay words are being flung into the cosmos: to hunger, crave or desire, which are followed by a second throng of remarks: to have passion, excitement or enthusiasm. Eating these words just a readily as the others, the bubbling begins. We can feel the words arranging themselves in our core, and just like the time before a definition springs into our heads. To have a plate is to taste, test or try something you have an appetite, hunger, or desire for, and to refine, judge and discriminate your findings with passion, excitement and enthusiasm.
Letting out a huge belch the thing that has released its self from our bodies is now floating in front of us, glowing like a neon sign spelling out the phrase. “Therefore; to have an expert palate is to be a person who practices the skill of tasting, testing and trying something they hunger, crave and desire who has gained knowledge by refining, judging and discriminating their skill with passion, excitement and enthusiasm making them an authority on the subject.”
Thud! We come to a stop and are abruptly met with a dead end. Grabbing the definition we realize the word creature is gone. Stuck at the bottom of a subliminal tunnel, we search for a way out. We find a tiny knob attached to a tiny door. Twisting the knob carefully and slowly the door cracks open. Sunlight comes flooding in exposing a beautiful garden on the other side. We can see the word entity getting away, dashing through the flowery fields. We yell after but it doesn’t stop.
We shout at it “how do you acquire an expert palate?”, but the word the creature disappears from sight shedding words on his way. We can see the words lying amidst the flowers beyond our reach. Feeling trapped we hold onto the definition tightly reading it over and over again. If we can only free ourselves of this pit we could discover how to acquire the skill of practicing tasting, testing and trying the wines in which we hunger, crave and desire filling us with refined knowledge deeming us an authority on the subject. Our expert palates are somewhere growing in the garden we feel we can’t reach.
Expressive words and frilly blurbs are impressive vocabularies that can tell amazing stories and discouragingly dance around questions. If you really want to taste wine like an “expert” you have to learn to experience the smells and flavors objectively and separately. I have smelt and tasted many a fabulous wine that to my mind smells and tastes of: cut grass, lemon rind and briny sea air, not a very appealing sounding palate but quite the impressive string of words. I have also tasted many simple unmemorable wines that smell of red berries, cotton candy and hint of vanilla, much more appealing terminology.
Be clear, decisive and isolate the first smells and flavors that pop into your head; it’s not about liking the descriptors, knowing if they are right or wrong, or how many other people smell the same thing. If you smell canned peas, gasoline or barnyard you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last, all of these are common descriptors used frequently by real “experts”. Tasting a glass of wine like an expert is like appreciating a harmony that resonates into a beautiful tune even if you don’t like the song. Like a choir of tastes and smells it’s about how well they sing together in a glass
To be continued……..
Sinking into cerebral reality to look for a resolution, in the dark space behind the eyes where anything is possible. A painted landscape of fabulous green presents it’s self. We rest beneath a huge tree to ponder our queries, and just as the first question escapes our lips it is interrupted by a frantic flurry of words scurrying past us in ball of illegible white letters. Letting our minds chase the frenzied orb it quickly disappears down a black hole escaping deeper in the subconscious. Hesitating for a moment, but feeling we have no choice we jumped in after it.
Falling deep into the depths of the mind we can see the word creature spinning in the distance. We yell our question into the darkness “What is an expert palate anyways?”, and to our surprise the little ball starts to throw words back. “Expert” and “palate” zoom by. Totally confused we scream “What is an expert”, and before we can say anything words are being whipped towards us: a specialist, an authority, a professional, or a connoisseur. The words stop for a second, but another group comes barreling through the air: to be practiced, skilled and knowledgeable.
Out of sheer reflex we grab the rocketed words that are whizzing by us. The moment we touch them they shrink into the palm of our hands, and for some unknown reason we can’t resist the urge to swallow them. Suddenly there is a gurgling in the pit of our stomachs a churning; the words are doing summersaults in our bellies. Like we have ingested a magic word pill a definition takes shape in the mind. An expert is a person who practices a skill to gain knowledge in which he/she gains the title of specialist, professional or connoisseur making them an authority on the subject.
Starting to understand this little word creature’s game we yell out its other word in question form “what is a palate?” Groups of words start flying in our direction: to have a taste for, to have an appetite for. Still descending into an abyss we are not satisfied and we pressure the creature to expand his word chain. “What does it mean to taste?” We shout at the wordy whirlwind spiraling in the void. A series of words are hurled through the air: to try, test or sample, quickly proceeded by the words: to discriminate, refine and pass judgment.
Snatching the words from the air and gulping them down as quickly as possible we reply “What does it mean to have an appetite for?” Without delay words are being flung into the cosmos: to hunger, crave or desire, which are followed by a second throng of remarks: to have passion, excitement or enthusiasm. Eating these words just a readily as the others, the bubbling begins. We can feel the words arranging themselves in our core, and just like the time before a definition springs into our heads. To have a plate is to taste, test or try something you have an appetite, hunger, or desire for, and to refine, judge and discriminate your findings with passion, excitement and enthusiasm.
Letting out a huge belch the thing that has released its self from our bodies is now floating in front of us, glowing like a neon sign spelling out the phrase. “Therefore; to have an expert palate is to be a person who practices the skill of tasting, testing and trying something they hunger, crave and desire who has gained knowledge by refining, judging and discriminating their skill with passion, excitement and enthusiasm making them an authority on the subject.”
Thud! We come to a stop and are abruptly met with a dead end. Grabbing the definition we realize the word creature is gone. Stuck at the bottom of a subliminal tunnel, we search for a way out. We find a tiny knob attached to a tiny door. Twisting the knob carefully and slowly the door cracks open. Sunlight comes flooding in exposing a beautiful garden on the other side. We can see the word entity getting away, dashing through the flowery fields. We yell after but it doesn’t stop.
We shout at it “how do you acquire an expert palate?”, but the word the creature disappears from sight shedding words on his way. We can see the words lying amidst the flowers beyond our reach. Feeling trapped we hold onto the definition tightly reading it over and over again. If we can only free ourselves of this pit we could discover how to acquire the skill of practicing tasting, testing and trying the wines in which we hunger, crave and desire filling us with refined knowledge deeming us an authority on the subject. Our expert palates are somewhere growing in the garden we feel we can’t reach.
Expressive words and frilly blurbs are impressive vocabularies that can tell amazing stories and discouragingly dance around questions. If you really want to taste wine like an “expert” you have to learn to experience the smells and flavors objectively and separately. I have smelt and tasted many a fabulous wine that to my mind smells and tastes of: cut grass, lemon rind and briny sea air, not a very appealing sounding palate but quite the impressive string of words. I have also tasted many simple unmemorable wines that smell of red berries, cotton candy and hint of vanilla, much more appealing terminology.
Be clear, decisive and isolate the first smells and flavors that pop into your head; it’s not about liking the descriptors, knowing if they are right or wrong, or how many other people smell the same thing. If you smell canned peas, gasoline or barnyard you aren’t the first and you won’t be the last, all of these are common descriptors used frequently by real “experts”. Tasting a glass of wine like an expert is like appreciating a harmony that resonates into a beautiful tune even if you don’t like the song. Like a choir of tastes and smells it’s about how well they sing together in a glass
To be continued……..
Sunday, September 2, 2007
An Existential Wine Crisis
I’ve been in Argentina, more specifically BA for over a week and my wine drinking, tasting and sniffing has been slowed, if not halted all together by my evil palate killing cold. Even so my wine knowledge and so called “expert palate” has been rigorously questioned and put to the test by friends and family members alike. On-the-spot, gun-to-your-head, so what is this? What kind of quality is it? And can you really tell where it’s forms. You know, the usual interrogation a sommelier is forced to endure under any wine involved circumstance, even when dying of the flu and so plugged up they can barley breath.
The “traditional wine world” skeptics unite and gather around unsuspecting sommeliers with vicious intent to trip them up and prove that this whole wine expert stuff is all a bunch of snobbery designed to extract money from wine fools. Wordy wine lingo, elaborate cork popping rituals, and almost illegible bottle labels are only adding to their suspicions.
Are these skeptics right? Is my wine education nothing but a sham? What is an expert palate anyways? How do you acquire one? Is it even possible to acquire such a skill? Do you have to be born with this magical, and for some fictitious gift? Is it something that can be developed over time, by intensely pondering and over analyzing every drop to pass through your lips? Should wine even be drunk with such scrutiny, or are we missing out on the true essence of wine by simply forgetting to drink it?
On top of all these existential wine questions there have been some great debates stirring about the household as of late, from screw caps and wine quality to the rapidly changing trends in wine. Most have been accompanied, like any good wine debate, by a few bottles of the loaded elixir it’s self.
We judge each sip as if gossiping over the headlines of any good rag mag. Whether it’s the trashy Britney Spears tetra packaged plunk for 2 pesos “Will Britney Make a Career Come Back or Has She Gone Too Far?”, the wild Lindsey Lohan fruit bomb full of sassy spice “Lynsey Out of Control Partying Again! How Much More Can Her Fans Take?” or the mature likes of the timeless sophistication and subtlety of Sophia Lauren “How much
Plastic Surgery Has Sophia Really Had? Famed Hollywood Doctor Tells All!” We all have a wonderfully biased opinion. I guess the question is what’s your flavor? If you can’t choose who you love does love then choose you?
All these questions are spiraling around my foggy and congested head. I don’t think I will ever be able to fully commit to an answer to any of these luring questions. Like love, lust and passion it’s all in the eye of the beholder. For some it’s merely about finding the flavor of the month, and for others it’s a quest to uncover a divine concoction they can relish for years to come. This moving wine target seems to be where the intrigue begins, that most often climaxes into a love affair you can’t ignore.
The “traditional wine world” skeptics unite and gather around unsuspecting sommeliers with vicious intent to trip them up and prove that this whole wine expert stuff is all a bunch of snobbery designed to extract money from wine fools. Wordy wine lingo, elaborate cork popping rituals, and almost illegible bottle labels are only adding to their suspicions.
Are these skeptics right? Is my wine education nothing but a sham? What is an expert palate anyways? How do you acquire one? Is it even possible to acquire such a skill? Do you have to be born with this magical, and for some fictitious gift? Is it something that can be developed over time, by intensely pondering and over analyzing every drop to pass through your lips? Should wine even be drunk with such scrutiny, or are we missing out on the true essence of wine by simply forgetting to drink it?
On top of all these existential wine questions there have been some great debates stirring about the household as of late, from screw caps and wine quality to the rapidly changing trends in wine. Most have been accompanied, like any good wine debate, by a few bottles of the loaded elixir it’s self.
We judge each sip as if gossiping over the headlines of any good rag mag. Whether it’s the trashy Britney Spears tetra packaged plunk for 2 pesos “Will Britney Make a Career Come Back or Has She Gone Too Far?”, the wild Lindsey Lohan fruit bomb full of sassy spice “Lynsey Out of Control Partying Again! How Much More Can Her Fans Take?” or the mature likes of the timeless sophistication and subtlety of Sophia Lauren “How much
Plastic Surgery Has Sophia Really Had? Famed Hollywood Doctor Tells All!” We all have a wonderfully biased opinion. I guess the question is what’s your flavor? If you can’t choose who you love does love then choose you?
All these questions are spiraling around my foggy and congested head. I don’t think I will ever be able to fully commit to an answer to any of these luring questions. Like love, lust and passion it’s all in the eye of the beholder. For some it’s merely about finding the flavor of the month, and for others it’s a quest to uncover a divine concoction they can relish for years to come. This moving wine target seems to be where the intrigue begins, that most often climaxes into a love affair you can’t ignore.
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