Vega Sindoa 2005 Rose Wine, Bi-Rite, $11.99

I got sucked into the world of Rose. And it’s really not a bad thing. Forget that sweet and sticky White Zinfandel from the early 90s, the one that your white-trash aunt drank to look sophisticated. The aunt that had the bad bleach job and the enamel earrings that dripped down her shoulders.

I don’t remember what it was that I drank to start the obsession. I suspect I was buying a bunch of wine and ran across something with a shelf-talker that told me to buy it. It sat around for a while. I must’ve been out of Sauvignon Blanc, or maybe was going out to a picnic with Trailsy and thought “Variety. That’d be nice.” So it came out. I don’t remember what it was, but I remember thinking “Jesus god that’s good.” Bone dry and a little tanniny but crisp. It was like white wine made out of red wine. I wanted to eat Tri-Tip with it. I don’t remember what it was.

I must’ve broken down and bought several more, ‘cause Trails (she’s the only one that puts up with the obsession) and I drank 2 bottles of it at the World Cup. Which led to much drunken dancing in Dolores Park. And another bottle one last weekend. Sometimes they’re a little thin, but I have hopes for this stuff.

I thought that first bottle was something like half Tempranillo and half Garnacha (Grenache, to you who only speak the language of the World Cup Losers). This one’s half Garnacha and half Cabernet. I have high hopes.

It’s a little sweet. The nose has faint notes of cheap ‘70s Gallo jugs, but a nice finish. A nice long finish on it, with notes of honeydew and kiwi. A tiny bit of tannins (not nearly enough in my opinion, but…). It goes much better with food. This is an easy-to-drink rose, but it’s (unfortunately) hearkening a bit too closely for my taste back to the el cheapos of the early 90s.

It went better with food. I made up my home-version of Zantes using a prebaked corn crust (thanks, Viccolo’s), a tasty bite, and some cheese. A little spicy, a little warm, a little crunchy, and the rose handled it well for a balmy night.

So this wasn’t the rose to talk about in my new obsession. It’s not bad, but neither is it anything to get excited about. There are better ones out there.

“Turtle wine” Chardonnay/Sauvignon Blanc 2004 Golden Eagle Market (20^th/Valencia, SF), $8.99

Disclaimer: OK, I can’t remember what this wine was, but it had turtles playing violins on it. Cute. Not.

I don’t know why, but I had some hopes for this wine. Not particularly high hopes, but some hope nonetheless. I bought it on a total lark one day from my corner store trying to break out of my propensity for hitting up Trader Joe’s and Whole Foods (both of which are, technically, on a corner, just not really where people really live, nor wander over for a last minute bottle. And they have a selection).

In any case, my favorite ever corner store is the Golden Eagle Market. Sam, the Jordanian émigré and his wife are fantastic and nice and friendly and everything you want in corner store proprietors. And they have a pink original iMac. How cool is that? I’m sure they bought it for their daughter or something.

Anyway, I was suckered in by the odd little turtles on the bottle and by its presence at a corner store and by the fact that it was a white wine; it had been pointed out that I’d been quite red-heave. Well, summer’s here and whites (and even pinks) are getting their fair share passing down my throat.

So I have to confess: Sauvignon Blanc is one of my all-time favorite whites. It seems like it’s hard to mess up. Chardonnay, however, doesn’t sit so well with me. I can appreciate them all, but I’m just not terribly interested in drinking them on anything like a regular basis. But this intrigued me.

Unfortunately, it turns out that we get the worst of both worlds. There’s a big fruit front-end that doesn’t have any of the subtlety of a nice Sauvignon Blanc—the citrus is overwhelmed by all the oak in the Chard, for instance, and there’s no minerality to speak of. You just get this lame-nosed buttery fruit bomb. And none of the elements are particularly good. This is a perfectly serviceable wine to, say, make white sangria out of. Or to (As I and the Puffin did) sneak onto a Southwest flight and make white spritzers with Sprite. Other than that… I guess you can follow up several Pacificos in it in a cut-rate motel in Mexico DF while alone. Just not with a friend. Skip this one. Get something else.

Joel Gott Cabernet Sauvignon, 2004 — The Wine Vault, SSF. $16

Joel Gott is one of the Three Thieves and I had high hopes for his wine– supposed to be a step above the Three Thieves’ wines. You-Me had his Zin, and really liked it.

My reaction? Thin nose. No legs. Thin flavor. Minimal fruit, no tannins, Notes of watery blackberry and the tiniest hint of pepper. Drinkable and OK, but I felt like:

• I knew I shouldn’t have spent more than ten bucks on wine.
• I was a French schoolboy, drinking watered wine with lunch

I’m really dissapointed in this wine. I only made it to South City ’cause my IBM guys sponsored a wine tasting (read: they bought out the wine shop and I got to drink a bunch of really expensive wine– which was super tasty and drinkable and a nice excuse to sneak off from work earlyish on a Thursday). The wine shop guy highly suggested this wine as a steal at sixteen bucks.

I’m thinking I should maybe bring him my card and my blog and tell him to read up if he’s looking for wine values. There’s loads of stuff that’s way better.

Not that I’m not going to drink it– it’s a perfectly acceptable fourth bottle of wine to open late at night or to maybe drink with a burger. I’ve had better table wine under a Euro in Spain. Unfortunate. It’ll probably age OK, and might develop a little but, but I’d look for something else.

Maybe his Zin.

Bogle Sauvignon Blanc, 2004 $11.99, Golden Eagle Market ($9.99, BevMo)

Ever wonder what the markup is from cut-rate big box “likkers” to your corner store? In this case, it’s two bucks.

I got some of this at the BevMo twofer sale. I love all the Bogle reds—the Petite Syrah is particularly nice. I’m not quite sold on the Sauv Blanc, however.

It noses up with divnity. It has a scant smell that invokes citrus and makes you want to eat oysters. So far, so good. The first bottle presented this great citrusy fruit on the front end with this nice mineral undertone and then it sprung battery acid on me. And it wasn’t just me. It was the Puffin, too. The finish was just… confused. I kept the last glass in the bottle and let it sit for a couple of days and I drank it and it was fine. Some of the citrus had faded a little but the battery acid was completely gone. It’d gone from a promising-but-wtf Sauv Blanc to a perfectly serviceable quaffing wine. Great for an afternoon in Dolores Park. Or, perhaps, up about six thousand feet in Yosemite. We had to see.

So the second bottle I “decanted” into a collapsible bag and took it backpacking. Maybe it was the company, my tiredness, or the extra chill, or the oxygen and sloshing in the bag, but it was great up the Alder Creek Trail with Trails (who kept us on the… oh, nevermind). I can highly recommend this wine for drinking at a remote backcountry campfire chilled in spring snow run-off, while exhausted with a beautiful woman. I’m going to have to try it again on its own to recommend otherwise. For now, at least decant.

Bonny Doon Big House Red, 2003                   $8.99, Trader Joe’s (widely available)

I love Bonny Doon wines. They’re reasonably priced and often good. I was a member fo their wine club for a year, and I can’t recommend it highly enough: If you’re looking for a winery that gives you experiments and takes you on a journey of wine through different styles, this is the one you want. The winery, just north of Santa Cruz, is also great. Super-friendly, courteous, and filled with good tidbits, they’ll fill you up on good wine and finish you off with chocolate and Framboise.

Yum.

So Trader Joe’s now carries their Big House Red. Everything in this wine is what I like: It’s a blend of Carignane, Zinfandel, Syrah, Petite Syrah, Barbera, and Malbec. Every one of these grapes is something that I’ve gone gaga over at one time or another.

I crack this screw top (and yes, I love the screw top and its lack of cork taint, but… but… but… can’t it somehow not be so much like opening a Pepsi?) and I’m rewarded with an intoxicating nose. I remember my last visit to the winery, and why, oh why didn’t I pick up a few bottles of this? Wasn’t is more than nine bucks? The nose is subtle, but it promises a wide array of flavors and colors. The wine is deep and richly colored and promises deliciousness.

Which it fails to deliver.

Right on the front end of the palate, there’s a little fruit along with a teeny bit of boldness. That, unfortunately, fades away into a watery mass of wine. I had to look around to make sure I wasn’t suddenly a French schoolboy with their famed glasses of watered wine. There is a finish on this wine; it’s a little subtle, and it fades away fairly quickly, but it more or less does the job.

I don’t know how something that smells so good can taste so… thin.

It’s just thin. I’m so disappointed. It’s not bad, just… thin.

I guess you can be too thin, even if you can’t be too rich. If you’re a wine, at least. Come on, BD. We know you can do better. Make it happen. There is surely taste to be found in these grapes.

Trinchero Family Sauvignon Blanc, 2004. Beverages & More, $11.99

Stonehedge Reserve Napa Valley Sauvignon Blanc, 2005, Beverages & More, $12.99

Part 2 of a lot in the series of the Bevmo 2fer…

Summertime in San Francisco. It’s foggy and windy and occasionally beautiful. I’ve got this hankering for summer wines in the sun, and I’m fulfilling it every time there’s a hint of sun. The winter rains this year didn’t only endanger the vine crop in Napa and Sonoma (I was up in Napa April, and there wasn’t a hint of green on any vine… nor a hint of sun in the sky). So grab summer wine while you can. And summer vegetables. Or wait ‘till October here in SF. If you’re somewhere else… drink up and send some sun our way.

I’ve been remiss, drinking these wines and not reporting on them, so I’m serving up a two-fer this week. Two sunny days, two Sauvignon Blancs.

Tonight I got home and remembered that I have the house to myself. MM is out with her grily basking in Mendo beachshine (Warning: may include fog) leaving me here to haul off to work and whatnot. Trails and Heels turned down my dinner invite, so I came home and cooked alone, and drank alone.

First up: The Trinchero Family Sauv Blanc. It’s got this really thin nose. Not a whole lot to it, like a decent table wine. It pours over your tongue and brightens things up, leaving little kiwi and banana traces. It doesn’t have much of that lovely citrus SB taste that I’m looking for, but it’s perfectly fine for an evening alone cooking up all the farmer’s market veg that’s threatening to go bad in my fridge. Problem is, now I’ve got like 4 meals and only one mouth. It’s not really too bad of a problem to have, I suppose, in this age of refrigeration. There is a nice slow finish on this wine. It’s not bad. At twelve bucks, I think you could do better, but remember: It’s twelve bucks and a nickel for two right now, so that’s not too bad. Pretty good, even. Totally worth stocking up for sipping in the park or for the off chance there’s sun at the Stern Grove festival.

Yesterday was the How Weird street fair. Rather than competing with my previous performance involving King Cobra and Tecate and a missed day of work, I decided to bop along with Trails and bring along a bottle of Sauvignon Blanc. It was the perfect day, and quite possibly the perfect wine. There wasn’t a sun in the sky, Trails had just gotten this cool neoprene wine carrier from REI that did a totally decent job of keeping the wine cool, if not cold. I grabbed the bottle of the Stonehedge Sauvignon Blanc because it was the first Sauv Blanc that came to hand when I was rushing to change my shirt, put on sunscreen, get a bottle of wine and get going, figuring that anything would be good in the sun, boy, it really fulfilled my needs. It was a perfect midrange Sauvignon Blanc. There wasn’t a huge flavor to it, but it smelled nice, tasted bright and fresh, with lots of citrus—kiwi and lime, mostly, and had a nice smooth finish. It might not have been anything to die for or to drop a bunch of money on, but it sure did work well out there in the sun. Tasty. Refreshing. Sippable. Delicious. Highly recommended—I’ll probably go back and stock up a bit over at the big bad summertime sale. It can’t really hurt, now can it?

Footnote: The Trinchero is kind of growing on me. It’s maybe a little sweet, and it doesn’t go so well with food, but it’s definitely a decent buy. The kiwi is developing out a bit in the air. Maybe leave it open a bit and splash it around as you pour. Or just spend the extra buck for 2 bottles of the Stonehedge…

First of all, there’s something you have to know. Some big unnamed chain place was having a two for one sale on a bunch of wine. Some of it’s corner store wine, some of it isn’t, but the end result is a bunch of nominally $8-$12 wine for half price. Expect rapid-fire reviews.

Trinity Oaks 2001 Zinfandel. This cunning “California” Zin comes from Trinity Oaks in Oakville, CA. It’s not Napa wine, though, which is fine. Good, in fact. I’d be quite disappointed if it was.

It’s got a Grenache-y nose—little and subtle, inviting a few ideas as to what you might be getting, but nothing like a Zin. Nice, though. Draws you in. Makes you want to taste the wine. Which is pretty decent. It’s slow to start; not much up-front. The fruit comes along in the middle, bright black cherry flavors covering a little pepper. A nice medium finish, although a little heavy on the tannins.

This is wine to sip while you go through and consolidate all your files on a grey Sunday in San Francisco when you really want to be out doing something but it’s just grey enough that you’re going to finish—no really— your spring cleaning.

And then, perhaps, drink another half glass while you eat your leftover red curry. Not bad. I’d put it as a third bottle when you’ve got five or more people over. Or for your everyday glass. It’s pretty decent, even if it’s not going to wander around with medals and whatnot. It’s even a pretty good $10 find.

Nine bucks. Not too bad. Especially if it’s 2 for one.

I love Delfina. It is, quite probably, my favorite San Francisco restaurant. And that’s saying a lot. I’d really rather go there than nearly anywhere else. It’s fancy, but not stuffy; it’s gourmet but not uber-pricey; the waitstaff are friendly and warm and they’ve done some sort of super-secret dance to make the dining room pleasantly chatty without ever being loud. You can always hear your date speak.
For someone coming from New Orleans and 20 years of listening to far-too-loud music, that’s important.
So the pizzeria opened. And I almost went. And I almost went again. I just kept thinking “It’s in the ‘hood, I’ll get there eventually.”
Somehow, a year went by without my going in. KT and Trails and absolutely everyone kept telling me how good it is, and still, I just didn’t go.
So finally Trails calls me and says “It’s been raining and I’m craving red wine and pizza,” which sounded pretty damned good to me.
Now, I’ll be honest: It could have been the company. It could have been the warm olives. It could have been the tricolor salad. It could have been the unbelievable anchovies (look, if you don’t like them, that’s fine. More for me. Just understand that it signifies that they’ve chosen very carefully their ingredients, k?). It could have been the toasty crunchy rich flavorful crust. It could have been the Italian wine list, nothing of which I’d ever heard of. It could have been the waiter who knew enough to suggest three out of four excellent glasses of wine to accompany our meal (the fourth was fine, but the third was better). It could have been a lot of things that made up the whole dining experience, but as it was, everything was great.
Let’s just start with the crust: Delfina Pizzeria’s taken San Francisco Pizza to a new level. They’ve figured out how to make a decent crust in large quantities, and then improved on it. And improved on it again. this is a thin-crust pizza. Want deep dish? Go to Zachary’s. This crust is thin and subtle and tastes… It’s crisp on the outside and chewy on the inside. It doesn’t quite have that New York raw-in-the-middle thing, but that’s really just a nostalgia thing anyway. You could put Prego on this crust and you might not notice it’s Prego. Fortunately, Delfina’s as careful with the rest of their pizza as their crust.
We started with a plate of mixed olives ($2.75)– these had been tossed in the oven for a few minutes, and were a delectable blend. The oil-cured olives plumped up in the warmth and stood out clearly.
Second we split the Insalata Tricolore ($7.50). Fresh (even in rainy 2006 April) arugula, radicchio and endive were all crispy and delectable under extra virgin olive oil with lemon and shavings of Grana Padano. The special cheese where Parmesan would not only do, but would be quite tasty, just goes to show to what lengths the owners are willing to go. This salad was fantastic. Everything was fresh and delicious.
Trails and I aren’t so great with Italian wine. I know I like a Frascati, a good solid Barbera, and I can swill down chianti with the best of them, but I’d heard of nothing on their list except the Moscato. And I hadn’t even heard of this one. This was a dry Moscato (Moscato de Terracine “Oppidium”, 25/6.5). It was very fruit-forward, bold up front, a nice big middle, and a strong if short finish. I’ve had a number of random Italian whites that are similar. You get all the nose of a sweet dessert wine, but the wine isn’t actually all that sweet. They’re doing something right here. I’d love to go up that ladder. Our waiter recommended the Fiano de Avellino (33/8.25), and this wine was something pretty special. It had a crisp start, a bunch of subtle and slightly floral notes through the middle, and it finished about six years later. It was definitely a good thing.
One off-the-menu pizza: The Margherita ($11). Doing something simple like this can be deceptively difficult. The sauce was tangy but sweet. The crust… I’ve touched on that. The basil was fresh and then had toasted down in the oven, revealing sweet and savory touches. We had a plate of fresh-grated Parmesan, freshly chopped (with a knife!) red pepper, and oregano on the stem that’d been dried in the oven to crumble over your pizzas by hand. Little touches make all the difference. They offer salt-cured anchovies ($2.75, and worth every penny). These anchovies are packed in salt without oil, preserving so much flavor it’s unbelievable. They come thinly spread on the pizza, which we were worried about at first– Trails and I are just nuts over Anchovies– but their pungent persistent flavor made it all balance well.
One daily special pizza: Hen of the Woods mushrooms with Fontal cheese ($14). The cheese and the mushrooms here set each other off so well. I don’t really know what to say, except yum. It stood up to repeated tastings the following day.
We again deferred to our waiter’s recommendations for reds with the meal. He suggested two Aglianicos, which was good, as we could then get a sense of the grape. The Aglianico del Vulture “Il Viola” (24/6.25) wasn’t bad. Not a lot going on in the nose, nor, really the wine, but it was perfectly serviceable. This is what I expect the Italians are drinking from jelly jars when you see them in old movies. It’s fine, but kind of thin. It didn’t really stand up to the anchovies or the subtle notes in the mushrooms, but the other, the Aglianico dell’Iripina “Tari” (30/7.75) was great. It had some strong flavors in it which stood up to the anchovies and tomatoes as well as fleshing out with the subtler flavors in the other pizza. It did a particularly good job with the Fontal cheese, bringing out the nutty flavors inherent in it.
We had to skip dessert, despite the unbelievable-looking Rhubarb tart. Our neighbor was eating the tart and insisted we get it, but we had to get a move on before our minds and bellies and taste buds exploded.
Besides, something sweet may have made us melt in the rain.

Delfina Pizzeria

3611 18th St, San Francisco, CA

Chapelle du Bois Syrah.

This is not a particularly good $10 wine. It’s OK, but not great. As it’s $4.99 at Trader Joe’s, however, it’s pretty darn good. Super decent. It’s like a consolation prize.
I just had a weekend in Napa with Trails and food and wine and food and wine and… you get the picture. My palate got overburdened by Sunday, and I had to have Irish food and beer for dinner.
Which certainly isn’t a problem.
So Wednesday rolls around, and I’ve got half a leftover Delfina pizzeria pizza to finish. Hen of t the Woods Mushrooms on 2 pieces and a Margherita with anchovies on the remaining slice. It’s time for another corner store wine review, and out comes…
This French Syrah I picked up at Trader Joe’s a while back. I look on the receipt: five bucks. OK, maybe it’s not going to stand up to that amazing thing they poured at La Toque, but for five bucks if it’s terrible, I can just toss it, right? Or use it to make Coq au Vin or something.
It’s corked with one of those fake-o corks, that’s made from recycled toilet seats or packing peanuts or whatever. I splash it around in my glass and…
The nose is a little thin, but not too bad. There’s not a whole lot going on, but at least there isn’t anything off-putting. Uncharacteristically for a French wine, it’s pretty fruit-forward, a little thin in the middle, and there’s a pretty long five dollar finish. Which means this isn’t going to stand up to anything serious, but it’s totally decent. The whole experience is a little thin, like the nose, but it’s not too bad.
Pretty perfect for rewarmed gourmet pizza and an episode of Sex & the City by yourself on a Wednesday night, in fact.

Chapelle Du Bois Syrah, 2004. $4.99, Trader Joe’s. Good luck.b

Pomelo Sauvignon Blanc, 2004 $9.99 Bi-Rite, San Francisco

Start the day before. A perfect day takes a little, but not too much, prep.

Find a special dinner companion.

Have a couple of crabs, cracked and cleaned and chilled.

Steam a few artichokes.

Cut up some organic lemons.

Melt butter.

Nibble on some mixed olives.

Get smoked trout or salmon, creme fraiche or sour cream, and Mary’s Gone Organic Crackers, (Pepper style). Have lactaid on hand if you need it. Make canapés and eat them.

Nibble on your lovely dinner companion.

Bring over a bottle of Pomelo Sauvignon Blanc that you got from Bi-Rite — or this link.

Bring flowers to remind you what a beautiful place the world is.

The Sauv has a screw top, which is the new black in wine sellerland. I have to say that I’m not enchanted with the screw top, unless I’m going to go sit on a blanket in the park and I want a bottle of wine at the last minute and no, thanks, I really don’t need another wine tool. I think I have one for every drawer in my kitchen. Because everyone pulls open the wrong drawers. So the screw top, it has its place. That place is at Stern Grove, Dolores Park, the Bluegrass festival, but not, generally, my dinner table. It doesn’t offend me, but more happens with the wine when its corked.

Anyway. The wine. It’s clear and bright and crisp and acidic. It’s dry, dry dry. It almost tastes like a Pomelo, conveniently enough. Citrusy, indeed. It’s pretty damn goodas it asserts itself. Ido highly recommend it for rainy March Wednesdays as the crab season is just starting to wind down and you’ve put in way too much butter and way too much garlic you’re eating the aforementioned canapés. It goes ever so well with them.

It keeps your palate clean.

It’s mighty good.

Eat and drink and giggle and talk and smile until the table and yourselves are covered with crab and artichoke detritus and crumpled napkins and the last dregs of the Sauvignon Blanc are wending their way down your throat. Sip on some port and lay your head down and be ready to fall asleep from pure pleasure.

Wake to bright sun, bright like that Sauvignon Blanc.

The rest you should be able to figure out on your own. It’s my recipe for your perfect day.