Author: Taylor Eason

Pinky aloft, lips pursed, and eyes aflame, a pretentious gentleman proudly announces, “I do love a meritaahge.” After processing the pronunciation faux pas, I quell the urge to punch him in the face, and then, with as much obnoxious affect as I can muster, I correct him, “Meritage rhymes with heritage.” The impulse to mispronounce this decidedly French-sounding wine name is strong, and this California-birthed wine is often misconceived. But the question is … why should we even care?

We should care because meritage is a trendy wine in the snob circles with growing popularity within the normal ranks. The fancy term describes a blend of two or more Bordeaux grape varieties, specifically Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Petit Verdot, Cabernet Franc, Malbec, and several others. White meritage is a blend of two grapes originating from Bordeaux, like Sauvignon Blanc and Semillon.

The growing popularity of meritage represents a shift in American wine perception. In Europe, blends are the norm, not the exception, but the U.S. has historically been the opposite. On our shelves you see “Cabernet Sauvignon” or “Chardonnay” on the labels, but blended wines are identified as “table wines.” And that’s about as sexy as margarine. Over the years, clever wineries, in order to offset this uninspiring moniker, created fanciful titles for their blends such as Goats du Roam, Primus, or Da Red to set themselves apart. Blending is important since it adds complexity to a wine and allows a winemaker to yield the maximum amount of flavor out of the vineyard — doubly important in bad vintage years. But in 1988, a group of three wineries — Cosentino, Flora Springs, and Quintessa — set out to define an American blend of Bordeaux grapes, calling it meritage. The name, the result of a worldwide contest, originates from two words: “merit” and “heritage.” Thus the pronunciation.

In order to post “meritage” on a label, a winery must belong to the Meritage Association, a nonprofit that charges up to $500 per year for membership — depending on the number of cases a winery produces. There are more than 150 members in the United States, scattered all over the country, as well as members in Mexico, Australia, Israel, and Canada. (For a complete list, see www.meritagewine.org.)

Since every winemaker mixes his or her blend differently, it’s difficult to define what a meritage tastes like. But they are normally pretty gutsy, yet elegant and fruity. You’ll find the red version — the whites are few and far between — more often now on wine lists and on wine-shop shelves than ever before. Taste a few, and when you hear “meritaahge,” help us all out by correcting that person. The original founders are even helping — petitioning Merriam-Webster to create an entry for “meritage,” permanently defining it for generations to come.

Recommended Wines

Flora Springs 2003 Trilogy Meritage Napa Valley — Sweet, fragrant cherries and soft, elegant vanilla define this gorgeous wine. Sophisticated and sublime. $60

Hahn 2004 Meritage Central Coast — Perky with black pepper and soft, mellow cherry. Good value. $16

Lyeth 2002 Meritage Sonoma Valley — Delicate blueberry and ripe cherry make this one taste like a summer evening. Lovely finish of fruit. $16

Dry Creek Vineyard 2002 Meritage — Velvety and full of roasted black cherries with a touch of oak. $28

Although people get hitched year round, bride magazines bloom on supermarket racks in the spring and summer. Filling their pages, in between the infinite glossy ads, are articles designed to make the ceremonious marriage rite run smoother, classier, and sometimes cheaper. With so many damned decisions to make, I realize why brides sometimes scream, “Forget it!”

If you’re to believe the headlines, the wine choices sometimes cause stress. But it doesn’t need to be this way. Caterers and halls normally offer limited (and frankly, quite average) wine selections, so your best move is to inquire about outside purchasing. Since you’ll be buying in bulk, bringing in your own wine can represent a significant cost savings. Although this might incur a dreaded “corkage fee,” weigh the cost difference as well as the enjoyment difference. Remember that corkage fees cover the overhead costs a caterer sustains during the wine service ritual, but they are also an infamous gouging area — and highly negotiable.

Choosing the wine is where the fun begins. If you’re hosting a sit-down dinner, it’s pretty simple. Two wines: one white, one red. Some varietals pair perfectly with food and some don’t. Choose Sauvignon Blanc over Chardonnay, since the lighter, more acidic Sauvignon Blanc melds better, especially with seafood. For reds, select a Merlot. It’s lighter in body than a Cabernet Sauvignon and appeals to a wider array of drinkers.

For stand-up receptions, choose variety. Offer at least two reds and two whites and make sure they appeal to a wide range of tastes, with a smooth flavor that doesn’t require food to ease the acidity or tannins. Good white choices: Australian or California Chardonnay, dry Riesling, or New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. Reds: Australian Shiraz, American Merlot, Oregon Pinot Noir, or a juicy, friendly California blend.

For the wedding cake toast, serve a sweeter sparkling wine rather than a pungent brut. The sweetness of the cake will turn a dry brut helpless and flat. Look for sparklers that say “Extra Dry” or “Demi Sec” on the label. Suggestions: Iron Horse Wedding Cuvée, Moët et Chandon White Star, or Banfi Rosa Regale — the one with a pink, romantic color.

To determine how much to buy, remember there are approximately five glasses in each still wine bottle and about six in a sparkling. With dinner, people on average will consume about one glass of wine per hour (but this certainly depends on the party-heartiness of the guest list). And count on two glasses per person during a reception if it’s wine and beer only, one glass less if you’re serving other alcoholic beverages. But all these calculations depend on how much activity you have going on — bored people will probably drink more to dull the pain. And you really don’t want to throw that party.

Recommended Wines

BV Coastal 2003 Cabernet Sauvignon (California) — Smooth tannins and elegant with ripe raspberry, smoky tobacco, sweet dark chocolate, and flowery roses. Easy to drink and an excellent value. $11

Blackstone 2005 Riesling Monterey

(California) — Refreshing and not too sweet, with peaches, apricots, and a minerally, limey aftertaste. $10

Meridian 2005 Sauvignon Blanc Central Coast (California) — Light, soft, and fruity with sour apple, honeydew melon near the rind and tart lemon. A crowd pleaser. $10

St. Francis 2004 Chardonnay Sonoma County (California) — Like high-quality, creamy butter on a piece of toast. Spicy with white pepper, cloves and balanced with ripe tangerine. $14

I had no idea what I didn’t know. I went on a wine trip to Italy and stumbled into the fascinating, ancient world of olive oil, an industry so similar to wine that it’s freaky. In Italy, the two dance together like lovers. Quality wine, meet quality olive oil … nice to see you. The two are inseparable at every meal for a reason.      I’ve met passionate winemakers whom I consider artisans rather than industrialists. Olive-oil producers think of themselves in a similar fashion, referring to their product like a loved one. Like wine, quality oil relies on a keen selection of ripe fruit and expert blending. Like grapes, the soft, fleshy olives need a perfect balance of climate, soil, and pruning techniques to create a delicious end product. After bottling, both are fickle: They hate oxygen, light, and variations in temperature. “DOP olive oil,” an appellation designation like Russian River Pinot Noir, is produced in regions around Italy, creating an intensely fragrant yet mild oil. But due to the lack of demand for it, not much can be found in the States.    I’ve always wondered about the term “extra virgin” … can something be more virginal than a virgin? For olive oil, extra virgin means it comes from the first press and meets a certain level of acidity (less than 1 percent), whereas virgin can be up to 3 percent acidity. Those simply labeled olive oil or pure olive oil come from the lesser-quality fruit (sometimes gathered from the ground), which has to be chemically refined and distilled to be edible. To give it a pleasant odor and flavor, some extra virgin oil is added at the end.     Contrary to the myth, the color of the olive oil doesn’t indicate quality, unless it has a reddish-yellow hue, indicating it’s seen better days. Unlike wine, which can improve with age, olive oil should be consumed within 18 months after bottling. The variations in green-ness result from the 686 different species of olives used (virtually always harvested green — a black olive indicates a very mature olive). To spot good oil, look for a light-yellow to a muted-greenish color, with an aroma and taste of bitter almonds, fresh-cut grass, and, of course, olives. Don’t worry about cloudiness, an indication that it’s unfiltered — a practice that leaves up to 1 percent solids in the oil. Purists think the solids give off unpleasant flavors over time; others disagree. Your call. But avoid plastic bottles, which are oxygen permeable.     Seventy-five percent of the world’s olive-oil production is European, and, of that, Italy produces 30 percent and Spain produces 44 percent. (The U.S. is responsible for 0.1 percent of world production.)     The competition between Spain and Italy is macho healthy. The Italian producers I visited — Monini, Farchioni, and Coricelli in Umbria — all bristled when asked about the rising quality of Spanish olive oil. Their answer? A predictable “not even close to ours.”      I use a Spanish olive oil for cooking, Goya Extra Virgin, which Consumer Reports called a Best Buy in their September 2004 issue. For salads, B.R. Cohn, a winery in Sonoma Valley that also produces extra virgin olive oil, ranks as my favorite. For the record, Monini Originale came in a respectable 10th.     With a growing body of evidence that says olive oil and its polyphenols make for a healthy staple, we all should be slurping up more olive oil — Italian, Spanish, or other. America’s consumption of imported olive oil has grown almost 500 percent in the past 20 years, so maybe with enough wine and olive oil, we’ll all live for forever.Recommended Wine

Arcadian 2002 Pinot Noir Sleepy Hollow — A burst of flavor explodes in your mouth, giving dark, roasted cherries, tart cranberries, and rich blueberries a nice run on the tongue. Follows up with deliciously earthy acidity. Worth the extra bucks. $40

When I was growing up, my family played board games to pass the time. The marathon Monopoly and Risk sessions between my competitive family members provided hours of tense entertainment. Then Trivial Pursuit launched, and my friends and I wasted fledgling brain cells learning names of leading men and women from 1940s and ’50s films. (Montgomery Clift means something to me because the pink pie category had him seemingly on every card.) I didn’t win Trivial Pursuit very often, but at least something stuck in my young brain.

But now there is a bit of relief for my damaged ego: wine games. There has been a flurry of them released in the past few years, all based on trivial, yet educational, wine facts. To liven up an otherwise uneventful home tasting, inject some wine trivia into the fray and maybe you’ll learn something new about your favorite beverage. Some games require an initial 10 minutes of sobriety, like Worldwide Wines ($40), complete with fake money, appellation descriptions, and country cards. Others, like WineSmarts ($25), are easy to play — albeit not well — after a bottle of wine per person.

The most highbrow game, Worldwide Wines centers on buying vineyards of the world, ranging from Napa Valley to Long Island to South Africa’s Constantia, using a fairly comprehensive world appellation map. You start with 22 million fake bucks and answer wine trivia to get ahead. The multiple choice and true/false questions range from easy to difficult, but after the third glass, all of it became challenging. It did, however, get a bit boring, and we found ourselves altering the rules to have more fun.

Another game, Wine Teasers ($13), focuses more on situational wine scenarios, like what wine would pair well with what food. I found the questions a bit subjective, but the explanations had some interesting info in them.

My favorite, and also the easiest to follow with alcohol in one’s system, is WineSmarts. It has uncomplicated score cards to record correct answers and fairly evenhanded trivia ranging from challenging to simple.

If you have no clue about wine, but would like to have one, simply browsing the cards can impart some wisdom. Sample questions: If you buy a California wine with 1999 vintage, what percentage of the grapes must have been harvested in that year? (Answer: 95 percent). What is the principal white grape from Bordeaux? (Answer: Sauvignon Blanc). What does Blanc de Blancs mean on a bottle of sparkling wine? (Answer: a sparkling wine made from only Chardonnay grapes). Good stuff, I think.

If you’re looking to buy these games, check out www.wineteasers.com and www.smartsco.com or Google “Worldwide Wines.”

Recommended Wines

Murphy Goode 2003 Island Block Chardonnay Alexander Valley (California) — Creamy, dreamy, and buttery, with vibrant tangerine, peach, pear, and a dash of woodsiness. $18

Ridge Cellars 2004 Zinfandel Paso Robles (California) — Elegant, sultry and juicy — the kind of wine you’d want to have your way with. Port-like in flavor, with roasted cherry followed by pronounced raisins and dried plums. Drink daily, if you can afford it. $28

Dry Creek Vineyard 2005 Chenin Blanc (California) — Chenin Blanc is a grape from the Loire Valley region of France that is normally made in a sweeter style. Dry Creek labels this bottle “dry” so you’ll know it’s not loaded with sugar. Tart green apple, lemon, and wet slate mix and bathe the tongue in some fun. It’s full-bodied enough to please Chardonnay drinkers. $12

It smells like skanky, stale vodka when you sniff your first one. Then it singes your throat with its flaming jet-fuel flavor, making you beg for mercy. Sake. This is why I avoided it for so many years. But recently a sake enthusiast transformed me, and I learned that this drink, the quality stuff, is worth exploring — at least once.

Sake is not a spirit, although the lower-quality ones certainly taste like a $1 shot in a college bar. It’s often described as “rice wine,” even though sake is actually a grain-fermented beverage like beer. But it tastes closer to wine and isn’t carbonated.

Sake production begins by “polishing” the outer layer of specially selected short-grain rice to expose its inner starch. After the rice is cleaned, soaked, and steamed, sake brewers use a Japanese mold called koji to break down the starch into sugar for fermentation. Adding yeast and water starts the process of converting the sugar into alcohol; then it’s filtered, pasteurized — except for some specialty sakes — and bottled.

After a six-month aging period, it’s ready to drink. Unlike wine, sake doesn’t improve with age and should be consumed within six months after bottling. The fresh ones should be transparent, so shy away from those taking on a darker hue.

Several different types of “premium” sake exist on our markets. To be labeled “premium,” at least 40 percent of the rice grain must be polished away, and sometimes as much as 70 percent is polished away after this arduous process. This is one reason for the higher prices.

The best sakes I tried were the junmai, ginjo, and daiginjo varieties. Junmai sake is full-bodied, earthy, and smacks of wild mushrooms. Ginjo tastes pretty light-bodied and has a slightly fruity aroma. Daiginjo is one quality-step above the ginjo and is the cleanest and nuttiest. There’s also unfiltered, cloudy sake with a milky appearance — the lack of filtration leaves particles of rice floating in it.

In style, sakes range from sweet to dry. The sweetness profile in all of these “wines” varies, so it’s best to ask your server before ordering. I found the best sake selections in sushi restaurants to be the ones hailing from Japan, California, and Oregon.

Premium sakes should be served chilled or at room temperature. The hot sakes you’ll find in many places are heated to cover up their cheap, harsh flavors. Heating sake also gives it that kamikaze taste, leading many to believe sake is high in alcohol. In reality, sake is about 15 percent alcohol — only slightly more than wine. Incidentally, sake contains no sulfites and is free from hangover-inducing congeners found in many wines and dark-colored spirits. A bonus.

I tend to think that sake is best before dinner, as an appetizer, rather than with food, although many disagree. Try a lighter, cleaner sake with spicy Asian foods or sushi. It’s an acquired taste, but don’t rule it out.

Recommended sakes

Masumi Okuden Kantsukuri Junmai “Mirror of Truth” Sake — $23. A little like the Pinot Noir of sakes — earthy, mushroomy but without cherry and raspberry. Hearty, bracing licorice.

Dewazakura Oka Ginjo “Cherry Bouquet” Sake — $28. This sake smells like ripe red cherries, toasted almonds, and honeydew melon. Tastes like them too but very dry with only a slight sweetness.

Hoyo Kura No Hana Daiginjo Sake — $35. Almonds and a very distinct flavor of steamed rice. (Imagine that?) Herby like ginseng or chamomile tea but refined and smooth — no biting, harsh flavors.

Momokawa Pearl Nigori Genshu Sake — $11. A fascinating unfiltered sake with coconut, banana, and almond aromas and taste. Creamy, with a tiny bit of sweetness in it.