We Want the (P)unk

Last night I was pleased to be a part of a special wine seminar. Though I was technically 'working' there, along with my co-worker 'Bill the Cities 97 Wine Guy,' I felt more like a wallflower at an extraordinary show.

The event was, 'The Black Wines of Southwest France,' with special guest speaker Chris Osgood and his partner Adrienne (sp?). Mr. Osgood's name was put on my radar a few years back by a colleague who suggested I meet the man, for we might have a lot in common. It wasn't until last night that I finally had the chance. For those of you who don't know the name, Chris Osgood fills the pages of Minneapolis folklore, some might even call him a local legend. (See: The Suicide Commandos, Springboard for the Arts, Star Tribune Article, McNally Smith). Though he's woven thickly into the fabric of the local arts scene he's also quite a staple in the Twin Cities wine scene as well. As you can read in the S'Trib article, he and his partner are importers of some crafty (big) wines from southwest France. Hence, the reason he was leading the tasting last night.

Malbec is hotter than Hades in New World wines right now (See: Malbec) but if it wasn't for Cahors and the grape formerly known as 'cot,' Mendoza wouldn't mean squat (See also: Negrette and Tannat). Without expanding on personal tasting notes and wine-rating-rants, I can simply say that the wines we tasted were big, and oh so funky. Huge and natural, dark and luscious, herbal and fruity, they gave perhaps one of the best representations I've tried to this day of the definition of 'Terroir'. Chris and Adrienne are passionate about the wines they represent and the people who make them. They boasted about dinners past with their lovely French neighbors, pairings with cassoulet and mushrooms, homemade apple pastries and coffee. I could barely subdue my jealousy of their stories, travels, and gastro-experiences in France, as I felt a yearning for the days I spent in Southern France a few years back. I was awed and inspired, introduced to new wines and new people. When I'm turned on to new wines and regions in France I can't help but dive into the books and resources that surround me, soaking up every little piece of info I can get my hands (and palate) on.

Though I might never be a total French wine geek, I'm excited to be on the beginnings of my way there. At present, I can say that I love the FUNK that I smell in many of France's coolest little wines, and thanks to an old PUNK, Mr. Osgood, my palate, mind, and senses are a whole lot more informed.

My New Place in the World

This week marks my 'debut' as the 'wine-guy' at our northern Twin Cities stores, Northgate Liquors, in Blaine and Andover. Though I've already been there for three months now, which feels like much shorter, I have finally settled in and started to grow with the company. Doug's Dozen is the theme of our weekly email that comes out tomorrow where I pick 12 of my favorite wines we carry in the store. I will be pouring and talking about them at a tasting on Friday and Saturday nights. It's quite flattering to have the responsibility and respect that I've been given and I'm gracious to the ownership and management for that opportunity. I picked wines across the spectrum of price, flavor, and location, from a cheap Portugese Vinho Verde, to a Tarry French Vacqueyras, a fresh box of Italian Garganega, and a pricier Oregon Pinot (Penner-Ash where I got my winemaking start). I'm really excited to get people's opinions and showcase some unique and value driven wines that many people are unfamiliar with. It's been great getting to meet many people who have been in the local industry for years and share stories on our experiences; many of my friends who have relatively little experience with wine have also enjoyed the abundance of wine open at our place and the conversation and learning that comes with it. I don't quite know how I fit in to the bigger picture of the wine industry yet, as I am STILL getting a foothold, but as each day passes I thrive on the new experiences and opportunities that come my way.
As my Brazilian neighbor would say, Saude!

Harvest Time (again)!

I've always enjoyed fall. The changing of the leaves, the cooling of the air welcoming old thick sweaters and comfy jeans, reflections of the summer past, and the excitement of the first snowfall just around the corner. My midwestern roots ring true in my appreciation for four distinct seasons but I think my full yearning for autumn was solidified only through my participation in numerous wine harvests during the last few years.

I feel a bit nostalgic now as the last time I donned my Carrhartts and Blundstones and prepped a bucket of per-carb and citric to go clean some tanks was now one year ago; I've most recently traded in my paisano lifestyle of making wine for a dress-shirt-and-tie position of selling the stuff, but the winery is where my heart lies and I'd give anything to have perpetually wet feet and dried-out-purple-hands for three months.

Anyone in the wine industry will attest that harvest is the most stressful, yet most rewarding time of year. The months following revolve around selling hard and the summer preceding entails strict vineyard management and lots of nail biting. Harvest itself, as I've written before entails the blurring together of late nights and early mornings, fueled by plenty of beer, coffee, and worldly socialization. I'm surprised more hasn't been written on the global wine harvest culture in a scholastic setting. Perhaps I have a graduate thesis in the works. I still have yet to spend a full year seeing the pruning of vines in the winter all the way to barreling down at the end of the next harvest. Someday I say.

For now I'm stoked at the wine-buying position I have been blessed with in the Twin Cities. I've already learned so much and have so much more room to grow and excel. I'm nostalgic for the harvest, now one year out, I spent at Siduri wines in Santa Rosa, with Adam and Diana Lee making my time oh so worth while and Ryan Zepaltas making each and every minute of the day just a little bit more intense. What about my southern hemisphere harvest preceding on the south island of New Zealand pumping out some fresh wines for Woollaston Estates? How could I forget the people who so graciously welcomed the midwestern-boy with no experience to come make wine with them at Penner-Ash in 2008. Hopefully I'll be able to score a few bottles of that output and soon have some write-ups to show for it.

What I'd say right now to those of you who drink wine is: get on the interweb and find your local winery. Take a weekend in the next few months to go out and see what their harvest is all about. Even if you don't like their wines per-say, you'll have a much greater appreciation for what exactly goes into the wine-making process. You'll be more informed, aware, sensually stimulated, and perhaps even inspired. I recently did a tasting of some Minnesota wines and have to say that I was blown away by the potential of some local producers. The large production wines will enable you to expand your palate on a budget, but the small scale, local, producers are really the ones who make drinking wine exciting year in and year out.

On the eve of many northern hemisphere harvests I raise my glass in honor of the many sleepless nights ahead that will lubricate many unforgettable social get togethers and fill our glasses, wine columns, and blogs for the years to come.

Cheers!