Fun in Paso: Episode 1 of Dudes Being Dudes in Wine Country

Let me first start by saying this has nothing to do with Texas wine, at least not yet. This shows does allow viewers into the winery and vineyard to learn more about wine, and enjoy it too.

At the beginning of the month, a new wine show premiered online. The owners of Nocking Point Wines, Stephen Amell and Andrew Harding, decided to take their enthusiasm for wine beyond just owning a winery and drinking lots of wine. These days they are also filming Dudes Being Dudes in Wine Country – at least when Stephen’s Arrow and Teenage Mutant Ninja schedules allow. Their debut episode saw the friends in one of the places that sparked their interest in wine, Paso Robles, CA. 

The episode is lots of fun. First, the guys are out for a really good time. They enjoy every glass of wine, every bite of food, and all the interesting people they meet. And they take us along for the ride. The show starts where their wine journey began, Paso Robles. They meet up with their original guide, Tyler Russell (winemaker at Nelle Winery), who takes them on a journey through Central California wine.

 

Their first stop was Herman Story where they begin to learn about wine from owner and winemaker Russell From. The relaxed atmosphere of the small winery is friendly and fun; it is reminiscent of many boutique wineries in Texas. Here the guys get a good lesson in winemaking and grape growing. In fact, Andrew and Stephen are recruited to do punch downs of some recently harvested Gernache, an experience I have had several times in various locales throughout the Texas Hill Country (It is much more interesting to watch Stephen do this and then me). As a seasoned wine drinker and winery visitor, the education portions provide the most entertainment, but having some wine knowledge made it easy to follow and understand. However, those not familiar may struggle through these parts. There are a few cutaways where Andrew provides lessons to help, but these may not be enough for the uninitiated. 

Me doing punch downs at Wedding Oak Winery, Fall 2014, supervised by winemaker Penny Adams

 From the winery, they head out to Glenrose Vineyards to learn more about growing. The picturesque trellises set the stage for a beautiful sundown. Here Stephen and Andrew find out about vineyard management and caring for the vines, a situation they recently found themselves in when they bought a vineyard in Washington State. In the vineyard, they learn about fermentation as they taste a wine that had just been pressed. Between jokes and shared stories, Tyler presents some great insight garnered from his experiences.

There is also some fun and indulgence. They spend time enjoying great local cuisine, paired with local wines. They even zip-line over vineyards as well. The guys have a great time, and they share that with the viewers. For me, they made me thirsty, very thirsty. I planned to drink one glass of wine during the show, but I fell prey to the constant wine drinking. The enjoyment they are having while drinking is contagious. And the beautiful filming of the wine made me drink a few more before the show was done.

The goal of Dudes Being Dudes in Wine Country is to experience great wine and visit fun places. They want more people to learn about and enjoy wine. To do this, they plan to visit wineries from lesser known wine regions. And if their site is to be trusted, Texas will welcome them to some more great wine. For now, Episode 1: Paso Robles is available through the GooglePlay and YouTube for $1.99-2.99 an episode. Definitely splurge for the $2.99 Hi-Res version for some beautiful shots of wine and wine country.  

For now, check out the trailer here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SQqC1UcjzzA

13. Ikkyu

13. Ikkyu

the indulgent monk proselytizes: know, experience, enjoy all the world

with my vice in hand, I toast to you

From Crow with No Mouth: 

     nobody understands why we do what we do

     this cup of sake does

Ikkyu was a Buddhist abbot in fifteenth century Japan. Despite his profession as a religious man, he indulged in the world around him. From his point of view, how could you understand life, and so the teachings of Buddha, if you did not know the all of it. He also accepted the Buddhist belief that mortality was fleeting and that the world we lived within was meaningless in the greater scheme. So  in order to be the best monk and person he could be, he accepted his vices and felt obliged to indulge in them. His most notable vice was sex. In his senior years, he took a young (20 or so year old) wife who was blind. In his last years, he devoted much of his poetry to her, especially poems about making love to her. But we wrote about all of his vices.

Now most of us wouldn't think of sake as wine, but it is rice wine. So for Ikkyu, sake is his wine. And as he wrote, only the wine understands what we do. There is something visceral and natural about this concept. Since the wine understands us, we can use it as a gateway to understand ourselves: we know ourselves when we give into such indulgences, experience and take joy in them. It is in this act that we may know ourselves. Of course, we know because it gets to the root of who we are. Serious wine drinkers and enthusiasts know this. We know it is a big part of who we are. Since starting this blog, I have had to come to that revelation.  In fact, as my husband and I talked on Sunday this week, I realized that wine is a part of me. It has come to define a part of my life. 

So, thanks to Ikkyu and his encouragement to enjoy the things in life that many will tell us to avoid. I have learned about myself. What I have learned is that I love wine. Kompai Ikkyu-senesei.

12. Hot

12. Hot
Slips in smooth, a touch
warms my tongue, slides down my throat,
heating my stomach.

Spreading, the heat moves through me, 
settles: my body relaxes


Hot wines are wines that have high alcohol content and leave a warm sensation in the mouth and other areas. One hot wine, that comes to mind, was a Reserve Barbera Becker released in 2009/2010. This wine had the highest alcohol content of any wine they had ever produced. From the first taste, I was blown away.

Hot wines can be recognized right away. As the sip fills the mouth, a hint of warmth becomes apparent. From my experience, the warmth is a pleasant one. It isn't hot per se, but a softening in the mouth.

The hot wines have a lasting effect. Towards the back of the mouth and down the throat, they stay warm. Again, it doesn't burn, but rather, it is a soothing warmth. At this point, the sensation begins to radiate out.

As the wine reaches and builds in the stomach, the sensation from early starts to grow. The wine's warmth slowly spreads out. I notice it most on my muscles. As the sensation spreads, especially from the stomach region, my muscles loosen and relax, like applying a heating pad. It is a pleasant and relaxing sensation.

Now, as the warm weather closes in, hot wines aren't quite as pleasant; I know I may turn to one when I've spent too long in a building with a super powerful AC. With that in mind, these are GREAT winter wines. When I first tried to the Barbera, it was in the winter or early spring, so it fit wonderfully. However, I most enjoyed it when I used it to celebrate buying my first house.

11. Grapes

11. Grapes

Frozen green grapes
provide a refreshing treat
on a warn summer afternoon.

Black grapes, large, full globes
seem decadent when eaten
for a simple snack.

Red grapes, full of potential,
belong to wine, slowly fermenting
and aging into a tempting beverage.


At the heart of this blog is the grape, so it seemed only just to make this the G entry. I have always been a grape lover. Grape candy, grape soda, grape juice, you name it, I love it. And that desire to eat and drink them has hardly every faded.

When I was young, my family went through a tough economic time. There was little money to spare, so I often had to make due. One trick was dealing with what to eat in the summer. Since my mother wouldn't buy much in the way of cold snacks -- she only bought enough for one serving per day, and I wanted more due to the heat and playing outside -- I had to find refreshment elsewhere. One of those tricks she taught me was freezing green grapes. She would clean them and then store them in the freezer. Several hours later, we would have a round, cold ball that was ready to be eaten in a variety of ways. We could suck on it like a piece of candy, slowly letting it melt. As a child, though, I would nibble at it, breaking away a small piece at a time and crunching on the ice crystals held by the skin.

When I got older, I started eating other types of grapes -- during my youth I would only eat green grapes. My husband kept trying to make me eat others, red and black specifically. Though reds were tasty, there was something about black grapes. These grapes, especially when they are large and ripe, with a tight skin over the flesh, they are incredible. I found they are my favorite to just eat.

As for the red grape, it is a prized item these days. Since I am a big red wine fan, these grapes are very important.  Without them, I couldn't enjoy a glass of wine. In fact, I will forever think of grape stomping. The feel of the grapes squishing between my toes and coating the bottom of my foot. Then there is the sticky residue sticking to my feet, ankles, and just up my legs. It is how I see grapes before they are wine.

8. Drops of God

8. Drops of God
Are they soft and gold?
Are they deep, lush garnet gems?
Are they strawberry?

I can taste heaven -- love, care --
heart of devoted winemakers.

Drops of God is an inspirational manga (Japanese comic) by Tadashi Agi and Shu Okimoto. This lesson in wine, through a great story, has touched people all over the world. In Korea, it lead to a large increase in win drinking, as well as in China and Taiwan. This long running manga has had a TV show as well. And I can honestly say, I was inspired as well; this blog is proof of that.

Besides being a wine primer, this work encourages a love of wine and a personal connection.By the second volume, the main characters are out trying to find excellent French wines at a reasonable price, and they succeeded. The lesson here is taste; even inexpensive wines can be incredible.

But the main lesson learned is simple: wine must be experienced. When a person drinks wine, he/she must allow the wine to speak to them. In the first volume, the lead finds himself drinking and taking notice for the first time. What does he see? Queen. It is a rendition of rock legends Queen in their 70's heyday, circa "Bohemian Rhapsody." As a Queen fan, I was hooked. Mostly, it let me learn what drinking wine is all about. Good wines have more than flavors, they have emotional resonance.

Though I have a hard time just letting myself go -- I have gotten too technical in my poems -- when I do, the wine has new meaning. So far, as this blog is concerned, that is the Malbec post. But as I wait for volume 3 -- released last week to book stores and this week to comic book stores (I like supporting my local businesses), I will have to keep reminding myself to just love and experience the wine.

Kampai!

7. Cabernet

7. Cabernet

Hard packed earth, sun, water:

swaddled the roots, left bare the vine.

I wait for Cabernet.

Cabernet Sauvignon was my entry point into wine. I randomly tried Becker Vineyard's Iconoclast -- a very reasonable buy and a good wine -- and started my journey. For me, it is the essence of my wine journey because now I am trying my own hand at growing, and it is Cabernet.

My little Cabernet vine is teaching an important rule about wine: patience. I have to wait to see what it will do. First, we waited to see if it was still alive after planting. That week and a half was a long one, one with regular check-ups. I so wanted to touch the plant and help it, but I knew, if I did, I could do more harm than good.

Now, my little vine is growing. My two main branches have leaves. Also I see where I may have more very soon. I am excited at this point as the plant grows. I know this will fade as it just keeps doing what it is doing. And at this stage, though I may get more leaves and great size, there will be no big changes for awhile. The buds breaking was the last major change I'll see for awhile.

From what I learned, it will be at least a year, maybe two, before I have grapes. And even if I have them next Fall (this Fall is right out), they will be of little use. When they come, I will reach my next milestone. Then, I'll have to wait until the first usable round grows.

As I said, I just have to wait. I can water and keep the surface of the soil clean. At some point, it will need some help staying up, but it will be a lot of watching and not a lot of doing. This isn't so different from other aspects of wine. I have slowly had to learn, slowly had to explore, before I could come to this place. There were times I wanted to rush, but I couldn't. The same goes for drinking big reds like Cabernet. These wines must open up; they must have time to breathe. I often try to decrease that time with an aerator, but sometimes, I still just have to wait. And, as I keep learning, when I wait, I am rewarded.

6. Bold

6. Bold

Dark, deep tannins grasp,

seeping in, complex tones sway,

desired red wine.

Slowly, my heart, take it in.

Let the heat slide down, satisfied.


I've recently read that bold isn't much of a wine term; it is mainly used in marketing. As such, it isn't a clear definition. But there is often a generally accepted idea, that bold wines are heavy with tannins. This gives some freedom in the definition, as is the case with so many abstracts. 

For me, bold does have the heavy tannin, but it is a wine with strong flavors, often many not quite melding but acting in harmony of one another.I usually associate the deeper berry flavors -- blackberry especially -- and other darker fruits -- currants -- with this. I also would say many bold wines have a hint of chocolate, as well as either a smoky, leathery, or oaky taste. And it doesn't take a genius to know that these flavors do no blend. Instead, they work alongside one another. Often one moves into another, but even more likely, they work as a two flavors in one. Fruit and chocolate naturally do this. When the darker fruits are put into dark chocolate, no one flavor takes over. At times, one is more powerful than the rest. One the edges, they are both there, both noticeable but match like related related colors. For me, I think of my chocolate covered blackberries -- where the chocolate is thick, you taste chocolate; towards the center, it is all blackberry; but where the two meet, it is chocolate and blackberry, separate, equal, and yet, together.

I also often connect bold wines warmth; they are wines that seem to be warm in the mouth and on its way down the throat. Very bold wines are warming on the palate, they almost smother it, like a rich sauce or melted chocolate. As they slide down the throat, they stay warm, like a warm drink on a cold day. Once they accumulate in the stomach, they have a spreading warmth. They are delightful, but not always best for hot summer days.

In the end, my definition does share similarities with most people's, and so both definitions would definitely accept the Cabernet's --my next post by the way -- as bold wines. But I would go beyond that and allow some medium bodied, and not just full bodied, reds into this category. One person I read would place Malbecs here. Honestly, I would place most Texas Malbecs, as the soil adds the deeper complexities more reminiscent of Cabs; however, smoother Malbecs don't always match up. The Malbecs that are more fruit forward and  very smooth aren't bold; they don't have the more visceral effect of a bold wine. One wine I saw missing from most lists, that I would put near the top, is Tempranillo. These wines are always bold; their spicy nature makes them powerful. And, their rich tannins create a depth of flavor like that of a Cab. 


So what is bold? I think bold is what you make it. It will have the distinct flavor of tannins, but is that enough? What you find excites you when you drink a tannin rich red is bold for you. So, be bold.

3. Malbec (William+Chris Wines)

3. Malbec

Oozing ripe berries
full, strong, about past their prime:
tangy, sweet darkness.


In early March, I attended the William+Chris Hye Society Malbec release party and vine planting. It is experiences like this that have provided me new insight into wine, in this case my favorite wine. I love Malbec; it is my favorite varietal. When I first really tried it, I fell in love. This once forgotten wine is having an extraordinary comeback, and I am happy to sing the praises of the Texas born Malbecs.

First things first, an introduction to the varietal. This French grape had a rough time. When the big attack on wine occurred -- one that was saved by the Americans -- Malbec took a hit, especially in Bordeaux. It didn't do well when American vines were brought into help (Wesley 44). But, a few decades back, Argentina decided to cultivate the grape. It has had great success and put Argentina on the wine map. Mendoza Valley Malbecs aren't hard to come by -- and at reasonable prices -- and they provide a great wine. Since then, it has been growing in popularity.

But what makes this wine popular? It's diverse. It has the fruit and sweetness found in lighter reds. In fact, berries are the predominant flavor associated with this. Many experts will say dark colored berries -- blues and blacks -- but I have come to think of it was a wine of darkened berries; in the best Malbec's I am reminded of my two favorite foods, blackberries and strawberries. The catch, to me, is that the wine reminds me of really ripe berries, berries that if they are not eaten now they'll be bad tomorrow. I love those berries because they are rich and taste of the darkness; it adds depth to the berries' sweetness. I see this in Malbecs. In addition to sweetness, Malbec's are strong. Like other full body reds, their tannins are noticeable. Here I agree with experts who say that the tannins provide weight for the sweetness (Wesley 51). The tannins aren't as strong as Cabernet Sauvignon, but they are there. I guess that's why I love Malbecs: the tannins are enough to create a wonderful balance to the fruit with out overpowering said fruit. In the end, this wine is great for pairing, and as is often my case, drinking on its own.

My introduction to Malbec was not through Argentina -- though I work hard for an Argentine education -- but from Texas. My first Malbec was from Becker Vineyards. Since then, I have gone out of my way to sample other Texas Malbecs. I do have to say that I will happily drink a Becker Malbec any day. But how is it that a grape, currently growing in the foothills of the Andes, is successful here? Malbec is a malleable grape. It can do well in most climes and is very adaptable. Specifically, it is a grape that can take on the worst that Texas can throw at it -- heat waves and droughts (Wesley 44). So its recent adaptation to the Texas Hill Country -- known for its colder winters (freezes are not uncommon, but we are talking cold for Texas), drought stricken lands (we are just coming out of one of our worst recorded droughts), and heat waves -- is no surprise. And just this month, I was happy that one of my favorite wineries, William+Chris, had decided to take a shot at it.

First let me preface this with the fact that William+Chris' current bottling of Malbec may be gone -- they had only a 120+ cases. But they have said that it will be back, so I hope next year's quantity will be much higher. For now we will talk about what sits before me, the first Malbec.

As the poem and the experts say, there is a level of sweetness to Malbec, and this one embodies that. When I first started this post I had just eaten really ripe strawberries, and this afternoon I enjoyed really ripe blackberries and raspberries. The wine shares the berries' qualities. This wine is a sweet, berry-ish wine. The first full taste is that of berries that are almost too ripe. They are a dark, deep sweetness, not the lighter vibrant sweetness we generally think of with strawberries. At the tip of my tongue, the sweetness is subtle, light, but most definitely there. But as the wine washes back just a little, the dark richness takes hold. The sweetness has depth; it is detailed. It slowly oozes out and saturates my taste buds. It fills my mouth and coats my tongue in a richness, also similar to a sweeter dark chocolate. In fact, at this point, I most reminded of dark chocolate strawberries that are almost no good. Both the strawberries and the wine cannot hold the sweetness back or keep it safe; the sweetness muscles its way through. The taste is bold and strong.

The flavor doesn't stop there. As I said early, this is a full body red, so the tannins are there. And like most tannins, they appear as the wine finishes its journey to completely fill my mouth. Here the sweetness gets its edge. The sweetness mellows and mixes with the acidic taste to round out the wine. But unlike bigger reds, again Cabernet Sauvignon is the main one, it doesn't have a overpowering tannin. It doesn't bombard the drinker with that strong sense of tobacco or oak. It is softer, gentler. This allows the wine to blend the flavors well, creating a wonderful balance. And, like other Malbecs, makes it eminently drinkable.

But, it does differ from both Argentine Malbecs and other Texas Malbecs. Texas wines are interesting creatures. They seem to have a hint of mineral in them. At some point there is this rich, strong flavor, like that of other minerals we use in cooking. Too me, it is like some of the richer smoked salts, that sort of sensation but not salty. I am guessing this is a result of the terroir in Texas -- we have heavy mineral deposits in out soil, and those minerals are usually near the surface. Growing up, I didn't get far with my digging before I reached a solid layer of caliche. This rock, often a major element in cement, is very common. Add to that the extensive limestone, quartz, clay, etc. found in the soil, and you can easily see where that mineral taste comes from. In Texas wines, it usually blends well with the reds' tannins, and blends best when the wine is aged in oak. It adds a new layer to the tannins, a turn or detail I haven't found in other wines. In the William+Chris Malbec, it is there but not strong. There is just enough there to notice it with a careful taste. In fact, I find it a great bridge for the fruit to reach the tannins. But unlikely other Texas Malbec's, like Becker, it is barely there. It is a hint that blends fluidly. I have to admit I have come to appreciate the mineral quality of Texas wines, but sometimes, it can be overpowering, especially once you have had several glasses. William+Chris controls the mineral well, not letting it take over. They do this in ALL of their wines (a testament to their carefully and thoughtful wine making), and it is at its best here (the current Hunter and Enchante are also great examples of this as well). In the end, I can drink this wine, glass after glass.

The William+Chris Malbec ranks with the best of this varietal. It is a great work of Texas wine making, but it is also a great Malbec. It is a delight. And like all Malbecs, the environment speaks in this wine. On the day I first enjoyed the wine, it was early Spring, a sunny Sunday afternoon.

The day was warming nicely. The sunshine danced among new green leaves in the small collection of shade tress on the property. The wine went well with this. The color shone brightly and was a nice match for the new green growths all around. The taste was as warm as the sunshine, and like the sun, slowly sunk in (I only needed one glass!). Of course, it was that warmth from the sunshine and the Malbec that made me not realize I was being bitten by an unknown bug -- the remnants of the bite just a trace several weeks later. I can't recommend this Malbec enough, and I can't recommend any decent Malbec enough.






Works Cited
Wesley, Nathan. "Aging Malbec." Wine Spectator 15 Dec. 2011: 51.
Wesley, Nathan. "Southern Siren." Wine Spectator 15 Dec. 2011: 38-41.

2. And the vine begins to grow

2. New Growth                                                             

The vine’s white nubs grow

Downy, fragile buds breaking

Free from the vine’s bark

Recently, I was lucky enough to attend a vine planting clinic at William+Chris Winery in Hye, Texas. I was lucky enough to learn a little about grape growing from Chris Brundrett (Chris of William+Chris). The short session under the sun gave me food for thought. Particularly, I realized why so many poets have a thing for gardening, farming, and growing. The link between the two is obvious.

Grapes are temperamental from the start. First, they are not fond of oxygen. When the vines re planted, they are packed down tight so as to make sure the air doesn’t reach their roots. They like to be snuggled into the earth, surrounded by the dark, soft soil. I suppose poetry is not so different. A good poem is temperamental, as it wants just the right words packed in it. The feelings a poem expresses are nestled in a blanket of words, and if the blanket doesn’t grasp it just right, the meaning is muddled and unclear.

As I have learned in the last week, since planting my vine, grapes take their time. For over a week, my husband kept fretting that we had killed our vine (after the vine clinic we took home our own vine of Cabernet Sauvignon). Every day, I reminded him to be patient. Well, in just over a week, we are seeing our first signs. Two of the four possible nubs on our vine are clearly growing.

One other looks like it is about to grow as well. These growths are small, only a mere fraction of what the vine may look like if we stick to this. This is a careful waiting game we are planning. Over the last few years, that has been my relationship to poetry. I keep waiting to see my nubs grow. I think I have some ideas, something to write, but somehow, I can’t get anything to start. I guess I didn’t quite have the inspiration. Now I have a clear topic, something to channel my ideas through. As of this posting, my nubs are finally growing and the words are starting flow. Hopefully, if I am patient, they will get better and there will be more of them.

In both, grapes/wine and poetry, it is all about care. I guess that can be said of all gardening, and I definitely believe poetry is reminiscent of the work put in to grow something. In both cases, we have to be willing to dig deep and make a hole, create a place for the grapes or words to grow from. Then, we nurture as it grows. In time, I will have to prune my grape vine, no different than the revising one must do to any good poem (or any writing for that matter). But in the end, we hope for the same thing, a wondrous elixir that feeds the soul.

1. Planting

1. Planting

With care, place letters.

Compact down the heart, mind, soul

Airtight to keep safe.

Fruit will bud, ripen, and grow:

Take care to harvest each word.

Today I planted a new grape: Vitis Poema. I hope to cultivate this plant to make wine, a wine of words. Some of my varietals will be words for words, others will be for wine. Will I plant more? Only time will tell. But like vineyard tenders and vintners, I'll start with a few and see what comes of my crop.

Poetry and wine share a common birth. Poems are born from care and craft, much like any good wine. Both, first, must see its main ingredient, its essence, planted. Poets must grow words to shape a poem, as a winemaker must grow his grapes to make wine. So begins my newest endeavor.

Poetry and wine also share a common link for me; my experience with both are parallel. When I first started to read poetry, I read whatever I could easily come across (which often meant what my teachers in middle and high school provided). In that experience I read a lot of material that had no impact or no life (at least for me). And well, my writing is not something I am proud of, but it was necessary to work through the junk to appreciate the good work that was yet to come. The same goes for wine. I drank what I was given, not thinking much about what I liked. I nearly stopped drinking wine because of that. But, like poetry, I had to get through the junk first.

In my early years, I did find a few gems; as a high school senior I came across John Donne's "Valediction: Forbidding Mourning." That work has stayed with me; it grew to be more powerful as I experienced more of poetry and life. It is a work of pure love; one I hope I can one day write myself. As for wine, an early gem was Becker Vineyard's Cabernet Sauvignon Iconoclast. It is my standard; all good wines must be at least as good as that one.

But I wouldn't be writing today if things hadn't changed. In college, I found myself introduced to more and more poetry. However, I was encouraged  to seek out what I liked, to discover. More than that, I was aided in this quest. Finally, people started recommending poets. I have since found many I love. One of my favorite recommendations was Ikkyu. His poetry is raw and elegant. It showcases a greater beauty in the most normal and the most human; basically, he can take what many would find profane or lowly and give it humanity. The same goes for wine. Several years ago, after the wine discovery, I had the chance to go to Becker. While I was there, I was directed through my tasting; they helped me to find the Becker wines I would like. To this day, one of my all time favorites is their Malbec, a wine I came across on that first visit.

I have had many teachers for both my verse and my wine. All have helped me see more. All have helped me develop my love. To them, this blog is dedicated. So, today my vine is planted. Tomorrow, my fruit will grow.