When people find out that you work in a wine store there are two questions that are bound to be asked. The first question that always seems to pop up is “so, what’s a good cheap wine?” The second is “so, what is your favourite wine?” To the first question I tend to respond with vague generalities about the prevalence of great values at every price, carefully avoiding a discussion about the merits of individual wines. Often, by casting such a wide net, I hope that the second question will have been forgotten. Sometimes my tactics succeed and other times I am not so lucky.

Why, you might ask, am I so reluctant to discuss the object of my affection? I am a self-proclaimed lover of wine; shouldn’t I be happy, even ecstatic, to have the opportunity to talk about my passion with others? Well, yes and no. Let me explain. First, I realize that not everyone loves wine as much as I do. The majority of the population has little interest in discussing the autochthonous grape varieties of Italy and that is probably a good thing. So when someone begins asking me questions about wine I have to quickly decide: are they genuinely interested or just feigning polite interest in my life? In most cases my response to the “favourite wine” question is that I don’t have a favourite. There are just too many wines and too little time to resign myself to one variety or brand. Each time I delve into a close study of a particular region, its wines inevitably become my new favourite. Similarly, every time I travel to a vineyard I find myself falling in love all over again. How could I possibly pick ONE favourite? Reactions to my explanations vary but I am often pressed: you know, for the sake of argument, “if you had to pick one?” In a desperate attempt to end the debate, I will often throw out the name of some obscure variety. Eyebrows raised, puzzled looks ensue and confusion reigns when Cabernet Sauvignon or Shiraz are not mentioned. Heaven forbid I mention a white grape – I mean, real wine drinkers drink red, don’t they? To that end I have even found myself telling little white lies: “Yes, I simply adore (insert popular international grape variety).” Sometimes it’s just easier than telling the truth. Well, it is time to set the record straight; I am tired of hiding my true feelings. So here is what I love, for today anyway:

I love Sangiovese. Why do I love the grape variety that conjures up mental pictures of Chianti in wax-encrusted, raffia-laden bottles? This ancient Italian variety has proven itself time and time again, as anyone who has had the pleasure of tasting a perfectly aged Brunello de Montalcino or Chianti Classico can attest. An ethereal combination of earthiness and red fruit defines Sangiovese for me. Opening a good bottle instantly transports me to fall in Tuscany. The aromas of fallen leaves, porcini mushrooms, plums and cherries. The laughter of friends as you gather to dine around a table piled high with the autumn bounty. Although I cannot spend every fall in Tuscany, opening a bottle of Sangiovese is a sweet reminder of that time. A beautiful wine, from a beautiful place, made by beautiful people. What more could you ask for?

Today I love Sangiovese. Ask me tomorrow and my answer may be different. Just how fickle are my affections? Well, at the beginning of this rant I fully intended to extol the virtues of the marvelous Cabernet Franc variety. Sorry Cab Franc, maybe next time. In this business it is hard to be monogamous; passion sometimes gets the best of us. My apologies, I’ve got to go, there is a bottle of Nebbiolo winking at me.

As it often is with wine and wine-related items, nothing is ever that simple. And the wine bottle is no exception. There are a slew of terms surrounding this particular category of glass vessel, so let’s go through them. Shape The first thing you’ll notice if you care to pay attention is that not all wine bottles are the same shape. With the exception of a few obscure oddballs out there, there are essentially three major wine bottle shapes (not including sparkling wine bottles): a) Bordeaux style – a straight-sided bottle with a high, pronounced ‘shoulder’; b) Burgundy style – wider base with a sloping shoulder; and c) Riesling style – a tall, narrow bottle found typically in Germany and Alsace, but also in Rieslings around the world. Is one style or shape better than the other? I suppose it depends on who you ask. In general, the choice of bottle is based on tradition, aesthetic preferences, and commercial considerations.

Colour

In general, red wine is housed within dark green glass (to protect against light), and white wine within clear or tinted glass, depending on the character of the wine; the more age-worthy a white, the more likely the glass will be tinted.

Size

Most people are familiar with the standard 750ml bottle, and the 375ml half-bottle. The 1500ml bottle (the Magnum) is often associated with bulk wine, but don’t make the mistake that big bottles equate to lesser wine. With higher end wine, a premium is virtually always added to the cost of a larger bottle, meaning it’s cheaper to buy two standard bottles than one Magnum, even though the quantity is the same. [If you want further evidence of this, just ask the Boston Bruin who paid $100K for the ludicrously large bottle of Ace of Spades Champagne after they won the Cup.] The reason? Many premium wines age better in larger bottles as the wine-to-oxygen ratio is smaller inside bigger bottles.

And don’t think the fun stops at the Magnum! The curiously named Double Magnum (3L) practically screams Party! and the increasingly larger sizes get so egregious that they’re named after Biblical kings! The 15L Nebuchadnezzar houses 20 bottles worth, but it’s not to outdone by the beyond ridiculous 30L Melchizedek!

Weight

If you drink enough wine, or have the unfortunate responsibility of placing wine bottles on a shelf, then you know not all of them are the same weight. In general, inexpensive bulk wine is filled in thinner, lighter bottles in order to keep costs down all around (especially with respect to shipping).

Some high-end boutique wines demand a vessel more inline with its contents, and hence you’ll see some truly heavy bottles out there. Some of these less than environmentally-friendly monsters are so hefty that an empty bottle still seems half full! For the truly artisanal wine with an extremely limited bottling, this environmental sin seems more pardonable, but for the mass-marketed wine trying to capitalize by tricking the consumer into thinking their average wine is somewhat better because of a heavier bottle, then for shame!

(To read more about the environmental issues surrounding wine bottles, I refer you to the excellent article authored by our very own super wine expert Gary Hewitt in the latest issue of the Cellar Door, Banville & Jones’ award-winning quarterly publication.)

Terms

Capsule – the protective sleeve covering the neck of the bottle (also called the foil)

Punt – This is the protrusion or bump found at the bottom of some bottles. There is no consensus explanation for its purpose, but it likely has something to do with increasing the strength and stability of the bottle while simultaneously providing for a greater margin of error in the manufacturing process.

Ullage – The amount of space between the cork and the wine. Smaller ullage equals less oxygen (hence the premium placed on larger bottles).

Next time, I’ll talk about closures, and about the various methods to open a wine bottle. Topics that aren’t as straightforward as one may think!

White Whine - Interview with Diego

Recently, I had the chance to chat with Diego Bonato, winemaker at Tolaini Estates in the Chianti Classico area of Tuscany. I was lucky to get to know Diego when I had the opportunity to work at the winery during the 2010 harvest. During the interview I was able to learn a little more about Diego’s background in the wine world and in doing so I am passing along his insider’s tip on the amazing 2011 vintage. Be on the lookout when the 2011 Tolaini wines hit our shelves! Also, you will be able to learn a little about the casual side of Diego from some of the more personal information that I was able to pry out of him! Diego will be visiting Winnipeg at the end of next week and may be pouring some of his wines at the store. Please stay tuned for more details! - Andrea Eby

Andrea: Diego, why did you choose to become a wine-maker?

Diego:I think it is destiny, the first contact with wine I remember was when I was in 4th grade, waiting the bus to take us to school. Playing with my brother Federico, I fell down into a 200 litre vat of red wine that my uncle was filtering; that was my baptism! Then when I was 16 or 17, while I was studying, I was working as a waiter in a restaurant. There I started to appreciate wine as a real compliment of food and I started to feel a passion for wine, and I realized that I wanted to know more about it.

Andrea: Does your family have any association or history in the wine industry?

Diego: I was born into the wine world; my family owns a 6 hectare vineyard in the ColliEuganei area. But making wine has always been a tradition passed from father to son, I am the first in my family to study viticulture and winemaking and pursue it professionally.

Andrea: So far what has been your favorite vintage at Tolaini?

Diego: I’d say the next one, 2011!!

Andrea: Before you began working at Tolaini estates did you have the opportunity to work at any other wineries?

Diego: Yes, of course! I worked in Tuscany at Teruzzi&Puthod, in Veneto for Cantina di Merlara, in New Zealand for The Crossings Winery (Awatere Valley, Marlborough) and in Australia at Pikes, in Clare Valley. I also worked for a company that rented expensive machinery that not many cellars can afford to buy, so they rented when required and finally I worked as a consultant winemaker.

Andrea: Explain what it has been like to work with some of the biggest names in the business before you are 30? I am thinking of people like Michel Rolland, Steve Blais, AndreaPaoletti etc. Is there anyone else that you would really like to have to opportunity to work?

Diego: It’s a great learning opportunity for me. Of course there are many other famous and less famous that would be fun to work with, with many different styles and points of view about wine. One day I hope to be one of the elite like them!

Andrea: What achievement are you most proud of?

Diego: ...the best is yet to come!!

Andrea: You have recently gone back to school, what are you studying?

Diego: I’m doing a Master’s in Managers Development, it’s a little MBA in a weekend formula.

Andrea: Outside of the wines you make, what has been the most memorable wine you have ever tasted?

Diego: Well, this is an interesting question: I had many, but the first that come to mind now are a 1982 Brunello di Montalcino from Col d’Orcia and a 1952 Chianti Classico from Catignano and a 1971 Don Pedro XimenezReserva of Toro Albalà .

Andrea: If you had to pick three wine-producing areas to visit, what would they be?

Diego: Etna (Sicily); China; Napa

Andrea: Which do you prefer?

a. Robert Parker’s The Wine Advocate or Wine Spectator? Diego: Wine Spectator

b. Bordeaux or Burgundy? Diego: Burgundy

Andrea: What is one wine that you hope you will someday have the opportunity to taste?

Diego: Mine after we have been rated 100 points!

**And now for some non-wine related questions!**

Andrea: Tell us about your hometown?

Diego: Pretty small but a very fun place. Close to Padova and also to Vicenza center, very active place. Nice hills, good wines, good food. There was invented the Spritz (the aperitif with Aperol and Prosecco).

Andrea: What is your favorite type of pizza?

Diego: Margherita with buffalo’s mozzarella, fresh basil and a drop of olive oil.

Andrea: Did you have a nickname as a kid?

Diego: Bonny

Andrea: Does Mr. Tolaini ever let you drive his Ferrari?

Diego: Yes he does, he lends it to me sometimes!

Andrea: If we looked in your fridge what would always be there?

Diego: Fresh egg pasta, cheese, vegetables, milk

Andrea: What is your favourite area of Italy? Why?

Diego: ColliEuganei; good lifestyle, good tenor of life, it’s close to nature and close to the cities, close to the sea and to some of the best mountains in the world (Dolomiti)..What do you want more?

Andrea: Who do you think speaks better English, you or your brother?

Diego: Me!

Andrea: Is there anything you really want to do or see, while you are visiting Canada? /p>

Diego: Everything!

Andrea: If someone has the chance to go out for dinner in Sienna, what restaurant would you recommend?

Diego: La Taverna di San Giuseppe; I Vinattieri

Andrea: What is your favourite brand of shoes?

Diego: I don’t have one...

Andrea: If you could have a super-power what would it be?

Diego: To fly.

Andrea: When you go out for fun, where do you go?

Diego:That depends: pubs, discoteques, concerts..

Andrea:What is the name of your favourite musician?

Diego: Metallica, Depech Mode…

Andrea: If your apartment was on fire and you could only take one thing with you on your way out, what would you take?

Diego:….my wallet!

Red Rant

Once again, let me preface this Rant by first acknowledging that some wines are designed to be drunk young. Think New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc or Portuguese Vinho Verde. Wines like these are all about freshness, so aging them would make no sense. Also, keep in mind as you’re reading this that 95+% of all wines you see in a retail setting are designed to be drunk within the next six months. My argument does not pertain to these wines. Of course, Andrea can preface her ‘Whine’ in a similar fashion—wines designed to last 15+ years in the bottle need at least some age on them to make them drinkable (as opposed to edible with all that thick tannin!), so what that leaves us with is a category of decently-crafted wines that can, so to speak, go either way. That is, wines that fall into the ‘drink or hold’ category. And when it comes to those drink/hold wines, I will make the argument that, all things being equal, wines in that category will benefit from aging and will be better later as opposed to sooner.

It’s important to know that as a wine ages, its fruit decreases, and its complexity increases. When we use the term ‘complexity,’ we are referring mostly to those secondary and tertiary characteristics that develop on the nose and/or palate. Think leather and tobacco and forest floor and mushroom and gaminess and barnyard and spice and flowers and perfume. Personally, I find it fascinating that grapes—and nothing but grapes—can produce all of these crazy smells and tastes. When a wine is jammed pack full of these characteristics, we call it ‘characterful.’ Contrast this to a one-dimensional fruit bomb. Basically, it’s like comparing a pimply teenager to the World’s Most Interesting Man. In other words, more character equals better.

There’s also something to be said of the aura that surrounds older bottles. They command attention, often carry higher prices, and in the case of really old wines, demand careful handling. For instance, the ceremony surrounding the decanting of an old wine simply can’t be beat.

Lastly there is the matter of tannins. Any wine capable of aging will require a decent amount of tannins at the get-go. Tannins are anti-oxidants, which protect wine from (you guessed it) oxygen. More tannins, more age-ability. As a wine matures, tannins soften and dissipate. A young, borderline ‘drink now’ Bordeaux might have high, chewy/chalky/grainy/grippy tannins, qualities that most wine drinkers usually try to avoid. However, that same Bordeaux, aged appropriately, will not only offer more on the nose, but will also offer a more welcoming mouth feel. In the best examples, think silky.

Of course, if you value fruit above all else, then please disregard this rant and proceed to Andrea’s whine, where you will find welcome company!

White Whine

There is a myth being perpetuated throughout the wine world. This myth involves the idea that old wine is inherently better than young wine. As my lawyer friend Brooklyn will be quick to point out, in order to actually have an argument you must first define “better”. I am not going to waste time attempting to define something that in most cases is undefinable. Instead, I am going to focus on how this myth developed and why we keep falling for it. Aged wines have been praised since Biblical times and the Ancient Greeks and Romans couldn’t get enough of them. In all likelihood this fascination developed because of basic supply and demand economics. With clay amphoras being the prominent storage vessel of the day, ageing wine was something that was rarely attempted and almost never successful. The majority of wines produced at that time were thin, pale examples, low in alcohol but teeming with acetic bacteria. These wines were consumed quickly because to do otherwise resulted in your precious wine turning to vinegar. In fact, in most cases the older a wine got, the cheaper it became to purchase. Therefore, any wines that managed to survive into old age: through improved viticulture, careful vinification and sterile storage, were instantly famous and instantly expensive. These rare examples lived on in literature for the very reason that there were so few of them.

With the advent of glass bottles and cork stoppers producers increased their odds of bottling an age-worthy wine. Within this same timeframe, unique styles of wine also began to garner attention for their ability to age. Far from ordinary wines, these often sweeter and/or fortified styles such as Sherry and Port, had higher than “normal” levels of sugar and alcohol than table wines. These two ingredients allowed the wines to resist the effects of bacteria and oxidation. Entire economies were created by the need to store and age these wines. But remember, this was not your average table wine! Additionally, in all likelihood these wine styles developed not as a way to improve the wine but solely as a method of ensuring exporters had a marketable commodity after shipping. Times have changed, improved transportation systems and cleaner cellars ensure that the majority of wine now reaches its destination in good health, without the aid of extra alcohol.

The vast majority of wines on the market today are designed to be consumed young. Winemakers gear their viticulture and vinification techniques toward producing fruit forward approachable wines. Gone are the days when the majority of wines were tannic monsters that only time could tame. Nowadays, if you find a young wine a tad more tannic than you prefer, you have a myriad of options. You can run your wine through an aerating device or simply decant the wine, both of which will serve the purpose of smoothing the tannins and opening up the wine. Master of Wine, Jancis Robinson believes that most wine is consumed too old, rather than too young. She feels that the majority of wines on the market today begin to fade and lose the primary fruit flavours within 6 months of bottling! In fact, she also estimates that only a meager 1% of all wine has what it takes to improve after a decade. This would seem to fly in the face of what auction houses would like you to believe. And don’t even get me started on the fraud component of this argument! Let’s just say, a lot of people are paying a lot of money for wines that are not what they say they are.

I do agree that all wines change with age, your job is to decide if you like the changes and are willing to assume the risks associated with older wine. What do I mean by “like the changes”? Chemical reactions are constantly occurring as a wine ages in bottle. As these reactions progress the primary grape aromas will fade and tertiary aromas will develop. Many people prefer the stronger fruit based aroma and taste of a young wine and are disappointed by the earthy and mineral notes that a more mature wine can display.

What exactly was I referring to when I mentioned the “risks associated with aging wine”? While there are probably no possible ill side effects to your health, there can be significant side effects to your wallet. If you are truly serious about attempting to age wine then you need to equip yourself with a serious cellar. Temperature and humidity controlled environments are a must, as are areas free of vibration and ambient light. If conditions are not right, your time and money will be for not. No bottle is going to survive 5 years in your dining room wine-rack, no matter what it is or how much you paid for it! These factors also come into play on the auction scene. Very few wines come with an indisputable record of storage conditions. Clearly, no one wants to shell out serious money on a wine that died years ago, but it happens all the time.

If you have the extra cash available and like to gamble, then by all means go for it, start ageing your wines. Conversely, if you enjoy bright, fresh, fruity wines and prefer to sink your retirement savings into guaranteed investments, then young wine is for you. I would be the first to agree that I have had the opportunity to taste some stunning examples of older wines. Just as frequently however, I have had my hopes dashes as I eagerly pulled the cork on a wine I had so carefully cellared, only to find that the wine was past its prime. A wine in its youth may not display all the complex aromas and flavours that age may bring, but at least it tastes like wine – not vinegar.

You have probably noticed, as we have, the increasing number of wineries claiming organic practices, as well as the rising number of wine bottles labeled “organic.” All things being equal, a wine sporting the organic tag will sell better than a wine that does not, and producers are obviously aware of this. What’s troubling (and annoying) is that when it comes to “organic certification” itself, all is not as advertised. The generally accepted surface definition of “organic” is any product grown without the assistance of manmade chemicals. But an analysis of the term and its history suggests there is much more going on below the surface. The organic movement began with small farmers/vignerons growing legitimately organic products, and then selling them locally. Certification didn’t exist, and moreover, wasn’t required, since there was a trust relationship between the community farmer/winemaker and the locals s/he served.

Demand for organics continued to grow however, and the food industry was happy to oblige; big supermarkets (historically constrained in a traditionally economically static industry) were eager to introduce these niche products and their accompanying high profit margins. The introduction of Big Business into the organic food chain effectively broke the locality inherent in the original organic product exchange. The ‘Organic Section’ was born, but despite growing demand, remained for years just a tiny fragment of the food and beverage industry, as genuine organic practices simply made it very difficult to ramp up production like conventional products.

Eventually Big Business, and its growth-driven imperative, began to dilute these organic practices in order to satisfy commercial demand. This in turn spurred critics to force the hand of government regulatory agencies to impose standards—hence certification. In theory, this third-party certification should have made it easy for us consumers to trust that when we see the word “organic” on a label, we can rejoice in participating in a world-friendly product. Unfortunately, it isn’t that simple.

The introduction of formal certification gave Big Business exactly what they needed—a legal framework within which to operate. Lobbyists pushed for and successfully obtained amendments and exceptions favourable to large-scale production, effectively watering down the standards of genuine organic practices. Further, certification has been increasingly tailored to suit large scale producers, making it nearly impossible for the small and strictly organic farmer to comply. The required record-keeping is designed for large, single-crop farms (that often very ‘unorganically’ exhaust topsoil) as opposed to farms that employ diverse land use. As a result, small farmers with the very best organic practices do not generally qualify for certification as organic. The wine industry has followed suit and is just as susceptible to this sort of distortion.

Relaxation of organic standards (there are currently more than 30 allowable synthetic ingredients allowed in “organic” products) allowed for production more akin to conventional food and beverage items, and the subsequent explosion of consumer demand followed, helping push the organics market into a $23 billion-a-year business, the fastest growing segment of the food industry.

The organic movement has never been so popular, and herein lies the paradox: its overwhelming commercial success has imperiled the movement’s ideals.

Besides the real chance that we are being deceived about the authenticity of the contents of the organic-labeled products we purchase, there is another deception going on here that strikes at the heart of the organic movement, and at our attraction to the movement in the first place.

When we as consumers seek out organic products, we certainly want something that is free of manmade chemicals, but perhaps to an even greater extent, what we’re really after is participating in the organic movement’s ethos, which includes, among other things, a dedication to the fair treatment of laborers and animals, a commitment to protecting the environment, and a genuine passion for what they’re doing.

A simple example proves this point: Imagine a vineyard that has been certified organic. And let’s imagine that this certification is (mostly) legitimate in that no manmade chemicals are being used in the growing of these grapes. The resulting wine from these grapes can then be labeled “organic,” but this label hardly seems appropriate if we also know that this producer sourced these grapes from a site that it over-cropped and sapped of water and nutrients to such an extent as to require massive irrigation. Even less appropriate if we learn this vineyard was a full two-hundred miles away from its winery, thus necessitating transportation and its subsequent environmental toll. Even less appropriate if we learn that these “organic” grapes are then processed in a giant industrial facility that produces even more pollution, and a homogenous end-product devoid of the character we expect under the “organic” tag. Winery’s that claim organic practices with this sort of behavior are disingenuous at worst, and ethically challenged at best.

Learning all of this is of course frustrating because when I go shopping, I want to be able to trust the label, and not feel like I have to do homework on each and every product I buy. At least with wine you can rely on wine experts such as those at Banville & Jones. But the desire to ‘go organic’ can also bring up some issues that often run against the expectations we’ve inherited from the conventional food and beverage industry. For instance, we’ve been trained to expect consistency in the products we like, and Big Business has perfected this practice to startlingly effect (think McDonald’s and Coke). But when it comes to authentically organic wine, inconsistency and vintage variation are the norm. We don’t do so well when we’re told that our go-to Shiraz is a no-go this year due to bad weather or infestation. Historically this is why the French were so into blends—if the Merlot crop did poorly in any given year, they could simply bump up the percentage of Cabernet. Sure the product varied year to year, but what you got was something far more natural that actually reflected what the land and the weather had to offer that season. Make no mistake that with today’s technology, homogeneity is more than possible. Bad weather and poor crops be damned, producers have the ability to chemically manipulate and process the grapes and wine to produce something that tastes the same year after year (think Bin 555).

While I must admit to enjoying my fair share of homogenously produced products, I can say without a doubt that there is nothing quite like sipping a hand-crafted wine that’s come from an organically-committed vineyard that uses chickens to aerate its soil, sheep to prune its vines, and horses to do its heavy lifting. Authenticity beats consistency every time.

At least three times a week I have a similar scenario play out within the walls of Banville and Jones Wine Boutique. The dialogue goes something like this: Me: “Hi there. Can I help you find anything?” Customer: “Yes, you can. We just got back from BC and we had some fantastic wine at (insert name of winery). We would like to buy some more of it. Can you show me where it is?” Me:“I would love to but unfortunately we don’t have any wines from that winery.” Customer: “What! Well you’ve got to get it in, it was the best (insert grape variety) we have ever had! Why don’t you carry it?”

I luckily do not have the responsibility of deciding what will grace our shelves (thank god, that is one job I never want added to my list of responsibilities!). Regardless, the powers that be are faced with this difficult decision every day. So why don’t we have more Canadian wine on our shelves?

Firstly, we don’t want you to think that our selection is limited because Canadian wine is inferior to wines from other countries. In fact, we think that there are world-class Canadian wines being made, and we are lucky enough to have some of the very best on our shelves. We just need to find more converts to Canadian wines. The palate of the average Winnipegger seems to prefer warm-climate wines, with fruit forward profiles, lush and brimming with alcohol. It is definitely a more of a challenge to sell cool-climate wines that tend to be less overtly fruity and leaner on the palate.

Secondly, even if someone is ready to take that giant leap of faith toward trying his or her first Canadian wine, price can often be a deterrent. So why do those Canadian wines cost so much? I mean they come from right next-door right? Common sense would tell us that Canadian wines should be cheaper than wines coming from say, New Zealand. Not so. Unfortunately wines from within Canada are subject to the same taxes as wines being imported from another country. By the time the wine gets into Manitoba it had doubled its price (or more) and it hasn’t even made it to our shelves yet! Customers who are lucky enough to find one of their vacation treasures in the store are often astounded at the price. It is hard to explain to someone why their favourite wine cost at least twice what they paid at the winery.

Another issue, with which we often have to contend, is that in many cases the wineries don’t really have any incentive to sell their wines to us. Many small wineries produce such limited quantities that they are able to sell their entire production from their own cellar door or in local restaurants. Why would they want to disappoint tourists and locals alike by selling their limited quantities to MANITOBANS!!!!

There is one solution to this problem. You can drive to Ontario or British Columbia and pick up a case of your favourite wine, right? Wrong. Thanks to a legal remnant of prohibition it is technically a crime to transport wine bought in one province to another province without going through the second province’s liquor control board. Most Canadians are not aware that they are breaking the law when they bring a bottle of their favourite vacation find home with them. Stay tuned however, small boutique wineries are clamoring for a change to this outdated law and some Canadians are listening. On May 13th, Terry David Mulligan, former RCMP officer, host of radio’s The Tasting Room and former Much Music VJ (for all of you children of the 80’s) is staging a protest. He plans to stand on the Alberta/BC border and illegally transport a bottle of British Columbian wine into Alberta and then bring a bottle of Ontario wine back across the border into BC. He has already informed the local RCMP detachment and hopes that they will attend the event and press charges. It is his hope that his actions will prompt legislators to begin pressuring for changes. Although previous attempts have failed, hope springs eternal. Regardless, you can be assured that change will be slow in coming. Provincial liquor boards will not be eager to give up the tax revenue that they are currently collecting on all that wine being shipped across our country.

So in the meantime, if we are not currently stocking your favourite Canadian libation, here is what you can do:

1. Tell us what you are looking for. You never know we might be able to get our hands on it!
2. Try another Canadian wine made in a similar style and from a similar area, we will be happy to recommend something that would make a great substitute.
3. Ask your favourite winery if they are shipping to Manitoba. It will be at least entertaining and/or educational to hear their responses!
4. Write a letter. Let your local politicians know that you don’t appreciate having to resort to criminal behaviour to obtain your favourite wine. I am fairly certain; bootlegging is not a skill that many of us want to add to our resumes.

PINK WINE

Let’s face it. For the most part, the serious wine drinkers of Winnipeg hate pink wine. Same goes for the casual wine drinker. In fact, nearly everyone looks down on pink wine, up to and often including, fans of White Zinfandel. Where’s the love indeed? To be sure, I’ve certainly made fun of White Zinfandel. I’ve initiated ridicule against those bold enough to drink it in public, and I’ve used it as a wine-joke punch line on more than one occasion. But here’s the thing about White Zinfandel. It’s not that bad. In fact, it’s pretty easy to like. Who doesn’t like sweet and strawberries and cream? We were twice given E&J Gallo’s White Zin blind during the Sommelier course, and both times, nearly everyone was reluctantly surprised.

But this article isn’t about defending sweet White Zinfandel. It’s about defending dry pink wine. So I’ll continue to poke fun, compare White Zin to Kool-aid, and advise that Friends Don’t Let Friends Drink White Zinfandel.

The reason I mention White Zin is because we wine lovers love to make fun of it, but unfortunately our disdain for White Zinfandel has made many of us pink wine racists. I use the word ‘racist’ intentionally because our tendency to discount all pink wine on account of its color seems to follow the same illogic of racist thinking.

So let’s put aside our biases and talk about some serious pink wine. First, serious pink wine is dry (that is, the opposite of sweet). Second, good pink wine often has a good amount of acidity. Contrast this to the often flat nature of White Zin (the lack of acidity is exactly why your crazy aunt’s favorite wine tastes so much like Koolaid. All sweet with no balance leads to what we call a ‘cloying’ wine). Third, serious pink wine will still almost invariably show bright red fruit characteristics, and like serious red and white wines, the concentration of flavor can range from medium to intense.

If you take nothing else away from this article, please note that dry pink wines often make for terrific food wines. They are especially adept at handling early courses where simple fruit flavors and striking acidity often work so well with traditional appetizers. Also, it is versatile, and can be quite a good bottle to open during diverse meals such as a traditional Thanksgiving Day meal, where turkey can meet ham can meet sweet yams, etc.

So become colour blind, if only for as long as it takes to give a dry pink a serious go.

RED RANT

I will preface this Rant by saying that I love white wine. I will also freely acknowledge that there are many very serious white wines out there, and equally serious white wine producers that craft them. My argument is not about the seriousness of whites in general; it’s about the seriousness of whites relative to reds. For the purpose of this argument, it will be helpful to define what we mean when we say ‘serious.’ If serious is simply defined as ‘producer dedication to quality’ or even more simply as ‘wine quality,’ then I concede—white wine is just as serious as red. But if we extend that definition to include things like production complexity, price and prestige, I think it will be hard to deny that red is in fact the more serious of the two. Let’s start with production complexity. While white wine production is very similar to red, there is the matter of skin contact with the reds that give it that extra degree of sophistication. White wine is separated from its skins virtually right after the grapes are crushed. This is not the case with red, where skin contact is essential to not only giving a red wine its color, but also some of its structure.

Tannin management is a tricky practice that adds a layer to red wine production that the white winemaker simply doesn’t have to worry about. A red winemaker has to balance color extraction with tannin extraction with flavor extraction, and s/he has to do so keeping in mind the objectives of the wine as well as the conditions of the vintage.For instance, if the goal is to produce an age-worthy red capable of evolving in the bottle for decades, accurate tannin extraction is absolutely essential. This is equally true if the goal is to make a people-pleasing fruit-forward ‘drink-now’ wine, where the task becomes keeping the tannins on the low and soft side while still simultaneously achieving a deep rich color. In short, I think most winemakers would agree that when it comes to vinification, red winemaking is indeed more serious.

Second, there is the inescapable reality that red wines, across the board, command higher prices than whites. A quick inspection through our Fine Wine cabinet will confirm this. In fact, at auction, pricey and rare reds fetch anywhere from 50 to 150% more than their white counterparts. The reality is that ‘serious’ wine drinkers—people willing to spend thousands of dollars per bottle—believe that, all things being equal, red is more serious than white, and the market reflects this.

Finally, there is the issue of prestige. While it’s true that some of the serious white wine producers command the same respect and reputation that their red colleagues do, from a consumer perspective, it’s hard to argue that reds and white are viewed equally. ‘White-only’ wine parties are rare, while ‘red-only’ is common. And even in mixed company, the reds are always afforded that extra degree of specialness; the best bottle saved for the main event is almost always a red.

Ultimately, whites can be great, but when stacked up next to their red counterparts, the truth is that reds are: more complex to make, more expensive, and command more prestige from the wine drinking public. In other words, all things being equal, red wine is more serious than white wine.

-Written by Brooklyn Hurst

As a serious student of wine people often assume, mistakenly, that I only drink red wine. There seems to be this prevailing idea that if you are really into wine that you have probably navigated the road from novice to professional, along the way moving from White Zinfandel, to white wine finally arriving at the destination of all serious wine drinkers, a.k.a. red wine! Well if that is the perceived path, then I (in the words of Robert Frost) have certainly chosen the path less traveled by and I think you will see by the end of my whining that I am in fact in good, no make that great company! As Brooklyn eluded, it is first important to define “serious”. Is it seriously rare, seriously hard to make or do people become more serious when they drink it? There are so many angles from which one might approach this argument. I have chosen to focus on what I feel is one of the most decisive indicators of the “serious” factor of a wine, that being how “serious” are the people who drink it? A quick glance through the history books (of wine) confirms that some of humanity’s most serious movers and shakers have been big fans of white wine.

Let’s start with the Greeks, bastions of democracy and philosophy. What did they drink? That’s right, much of it was white. Next. The Romans. You may have heard of one of their more famous citizens, a guy by the name of Julius Caesar? Well what do you think old Julius liked to drink? No, it wasn’t a frothy orange juice concoction; it was in fact a wine known as Falernian. The legend of Falernian endures into our modern age as being one of the great wines of the ancient world. Was it red? You know the answer to that question - it was white! Fast-forward to the Age of Exploration. Constantia was the drink of choice in all the royal courts in the 1700’s. Hailing from South Africa, winemakers today are still trying to replicate and revive this famous white wine style. The list goes on. Tokaji – the drink of the Russian Czars, White burgundy – Charlemagne’s tipple of choice, Champagne – Napoleon celebratory and consolatory drink, Sauternes – one of Thomas Jefferson’s favorites or how about Madeira – the wine chosen to toast the Declaration of Independence with!

How could any lover of fine wine allow themselves to miss out on opportunities to savour all of the world’s wine styles? Imagine the food-pairing possibilities you would be denying yourself if you eschewed the infinitely more food-friendly whites, in favour of reds. How would you live knowing you had turned your back on Riesling, never again to taste the terroir unique to the blue-slate soils of the Middle Mosel? What serious wine lover wouldn’t fork over some cash for a bottle of 1787 Chateau d’Yquem Sauternes? Fifty-five thousand for one bottle sounds like in “serious” cash to me!

I think you get the point. Enough with the snobbery, great wine can be red or white and history has proven that white wine is truly serious business. So park your prejudice on the shelf, the only thing more serious about red wine is the stain it leaves on your teeth.

Welcome to the Banville& Jones wine blog Red Rant White Whine! I’m Brooklyn, and along with fellow Sommelier, Andrea, we will be posting a weekly article here that will, in all likelihood, have something to do with wine. Hopefully you’ll find them interesting, or failing that, at least amusing.

Andrea and I intend on writing independent articles, which we will post on alternate weeks. But once a month, we will come together in an epic battle to debate some contentious wine topic—one of us will Rant and the other shall Whine! And this battle will commence next week. The topic: Red wine is more serious than white wine. I will be ‘ranting’ in favor of this statement, and Andrea will be ‘whining’ in opposition!

So come for the war of words, and stay for the content. Here are some of the things we plan on blogging about:

-Specific artisanal producers, like Rick Burge (brother of the more famous Grant Burge) in the Barossa Valley of Australia, who insists on planting vines only when the “Earth is breathing in.” We want to provide a more casual and intimate insight into these passionate people.

-Presenting a different side of the Banville& Jones Wine Company. You know we sell wine, but we do a whole lot of other cool things too. We hope to give you an insider look into us, and especially into some of the cool people that work here.

-General wine and wine-related information. What makes an expensive bottle of wine better than a cheaper one? What’s the difference between Tawny Port and Vintage Port? And what’s the proper way to order wine in a restaurant?

-Specific wine regions. You’ve probably heard of Burgundy, but what makes it so special? Is there a difference between New Zealand’s Sauvignon Blanc and California’s? And where does ‘yellow wine’ come from?

We are wine geeks to be sure, but rest easy knowing that we plan on keeping these articles light, brief, and weekly. We’ll do our best to be informative and entertaining, but exhaustive isn’t the goal with this blog. If you’re at the point where you want to know more about Petit Manseng, we can’t help you here, other than to welcome you to the Wine Geek Club, and offer our commiserations.

About Andrea:

Andrea is a 2010 graduate of the International Sommelier Diploma Program. Finishing at the top of her class, Andrea brings a strong academic knowledge of wine along with a truly gifted palate. 2010 also saw Andrea journey to Italy to work a harvest, where we almost lost her to the seduction of oenological chemistry. She is a frequent contributor to the Cellar Door, Banville and Jones’s quarterly publication, and she is one of Brooklyn’s favorite Sommeliers.

About Brooklyn:

Brooklyn is also a 2010 graduate of the International Sommelier Diploma Program. Although Brooklyn had been in the food and beverage industry for over 17 years, it wasn’t until 2009 that he decided to get really serious about wine. Taking the accelerated route, Brooklyn was forced to navigate a learning curve that Sommelier instructor Gary described as “basically vertical.” Brooklyn did a brief Sommelier stint at 529 Wellington over the Christmas season, and he is also a frequent contributor to the Cellar Door.

This summer, I received the gift of four months of organic produce delivered to my door. Even for the short Manitoba growing season, I loved trying all the fruits and veggies grown locally and organically. As I enjoyed working my organic produce into a summer of fresh, beautiful meals, I started thinking about the organic moniker and all it implies.

In almost every instance, “organic” is equated to better, more flavourful, and high-quality product; in the wine world, however, organic does not guarantee a “better” product. My main issue with organic wine production is how it differs from my big, fresh baskets of produce. Growing organic fruit (not to simplify our good farmers’ work) involves one process: you grow it and you sell it. As soon as you add a second, man-made process into a product, like winemaking, you run the risk of messing things up. Being simply “organic” without mastering growing and winemaking techniques does not automatically produce a quality final product. This is where most organic wines I try fall flat.

With great marketing backing their product, producers get to sell lots of wine under the “organic” label; unfortunately, good marketing, and even organic certification, does not guarantee good farming or winemaking. If you start with low-quality juice, there isn’t much that can be done to save the end-product during winemaking. When we are looking for wine for the store, sustainable practices are a benefit, and most of the producers that we find interesting also share this view. But first and foremost, the wine has to be good, and organic does not always mean good. We have wineries that practice “sustainable winemaking practices,” others that are “carbon neutral.” With so many different organic certifications, it can be confusing as to what points to quality, and what points to good marketing. We look to producers in Italy and France, who, for centuries, have been producing wine organically and sustainably, the way their ancestors taught them. There is no sticker on the bottle; it is not on their website. Sustainable practices aren’t a marketing strategy, they are tradition. The only reason we know they exist is because we asked!

We are also seeing a trend towards wine regions focusing on what is best for their land and their people. I have recently travelled to two different regions that have created their own set of rules to govern sustainable farming, human resources, and winemaking practices: Lodi (California) and Oregon. The Lodi certification process is called “Lodi Rules,” and it takes into account how the vineyards are developed and farmed, including creating habitats for local flora and fauna, while making sure employee working conditions are safe, comfortable, and provide living wages. In Oregon, there are many different certifying bodies, but one of the most interesting is called LIVE (Low Impact Viticultural & Enology). LIVE certifies vineyards for following international guidelines for environmental stewardship, social responsibility, and economic accountability.

Creating certification in regions that have a passion for making high-quality wine means that qualifications increasingly focus on quality from the vineyard to the winery. All of these new standards and practices are raising the bar to create a better environment in both the vineyard and the winery. But remember, don’t rely solely on what the label says. You should also trust your palate.

LIVE INC. http://www.liveinc.org

Banville & Jones carries the following Cristom Vineyards wines:

Marjorie Vineyard 2006 Pinot Noir – $65.99

Mt Jefferson Cuvee 2006 Pinot Noir – $66.99

Sommers Reserve 2005 Pinot Noir – $58.99

Lodi Rules http://www.lodiwine.com/lodirules

2008 Albariño – $23.99

2007 Graciano – $35.99

2007 Tempranillo – $29.99

2008 Garnacha Blanca – $25.99

- Mike Muirhead, Sommelier (ISG, CMS), CSW