by Julian Schultz
julian@oxfordwineroom.com
At the International Wine And Food Society's recent wine dinner at The Castle Restaurant, I was discussing wine with new members from Springfield: chiropractors Whipper, Whacker, Walloper, and Banger when Tammy Tumult assailed me.
Her fierce eyes flashed rage, her beautiful face fired animosity: "I'm going berserks-ville listening to your pretentious prose, which oozes of wine snobbery and insufferable elitism. You are a laughable buffoon and a yawn-inducing bore, in wine and otherwise."
Taken aback and embarrassed, I could only gasp inanely, "My wine friends never say so. Oh yes, on occasion I indulge in nonsensical wine verbiage with voice and computer, albeit with tongue in cheek." She made a sour face at me and gestured disdainfully with her hand...I think she doesn't particularly like me.
"Wine talk can be brutally boring," I said, "so I spice it up by directing derision at me. When I once said that the soft, smooth wine I was tasting reminded me of a 'romantic minor key melody at hushed twilight with my loved one entwined in my arms,' grinning Jim Nicas, Castle sommelier/maitre'd, threw a bagel with cream cheese and lox at me.
"With contrived unflappable aplomb, I said I needed to sip brut Champagne before I could eat the salty lox. Lots of laughter; someone said I was 'a witty wine snob.' "
My riposte was, "I am l like Shakespeare's Falstaff, who invents laughter and causes laughter to be invented on him; so I, too, am witty and cause wit in others. This is how Fat Jack said it, some paraphrasing by me":
"Men of all sorts take a pride to make fun of me: But the brain of this foolishly-compounded clay, man, is not able to invent anything that tends to laughter, more than I invent it or cause it to be invented on me. Therefore, I am not only witty in myself, but the cause that wit is in other men."
I heard mockingly from Tammy, who had simmered down, "Now he's an erudite wine snob."
A few minutes later she sat beside me and said that practicing wine snobbery might be fun, especially when she might out-snob other snobs. She asked, would I teach her? No longer explosive, she was awfully attractive, her doe-like eyes and finely featured face were now smiling, beguiling and inviting. What a fool I would be to refuse her. The cavalier in me gallantly granted her wish.
Prescription for amateur wine snobbery: Always lift the wine glass with thumb and forefinger above and below the bottom rim. Wave the glass underneath the uplifted nose with a supercilious mien. Sight and sip exaggeratedly long and thoughtfully, brow deeply and anxiously furrowed. Sip cautiously, show concern; find fault triumphantly or sadly; deplore faults apologetically: "Alas, the rains arrived late that spring." Disdain lower-priced wines: higher the price, better the wine. Elevate the nose into the stratosphere at wines that lack famous names or heralded vintages.
Prescription for professional wine snobbery: Comport yourself with subtle ostentation. Study the wine, forbear comment, but when asked sigh deeply with disagreement and quote in Latin: "De gustibus non disputandum est, there is no accounting for taste." Solemnly utter absurd descriptors: breed, race, shy, lusty, muscular, intimidating, infanticide, panache, repulsive, seductive, pompous. If challenged, smile tolerantly and benignly; say, "Wine descriptors are maddenly subjective, no two palates are alike." When you denigrate a wine do it with anguished pity or vociferous outrage. Blithely spout vintage ratings, but decry them as being too generalized; quote the importance of age of vines, vineyard terroir, winemaker style, microclimates, (facetiously) the color of the winemaker's underwear.
Then relate the story of a friend who asked her husband, "Shall I wear the Burgundy or the Sherry colored gown to the ball?"
And he replies, "Wear the Burgundy, but be sure the hem is properly filthy dirty to account for the sediment."
Tammy gleefully embraced me with a peck on my cheek: "I've got it! I've got it!! Now I'll lay it on my friends." And indeed she did when I overheard her later.
The dinner: I was into the fourth of my eight Black Angus sirloin roulades in balsamic vinegar hors d'oeuvres when old acquaintance Jacob Von Schickersneer came over to greet me. We refer to him as "Jake the Ripper" because he seems to concentrate on wines' negatives over their positives and triumphantly heralds their shortcomings; often in afterthought, however, he states their attributes, grudgingly.
He protests his sobriquet: "I am not a 'ripper'! I resent your painting me with that demeaning nickname. I dislike having to shred a wine. But I am a lawyer. I seek truth, which I find in exactitude. A wine that is not true to its varietal characteristics does not reflect winemaking skill, does not give expected pleasure. I refuse to dignify such a wine with even my weakest imprimatur. You do me an injustice to denigrate my principles, my fidelity to perfection. Never will I compromise my fastidious palate."
Jake addressed the members of our table: "We are not here to guzzle Jim Nicas' fine wines, nor voraciously ravish Stanley's gourmet prepared food. We are here to appreciate the aesthetics of wine and food that will give us lifelong pleasure. Speaking of the wines, we must understand how to taste them and understand what is being tasted. Wines are different: sometimes subtly, sometimes markedly. They aren't consistent like Coca-Cola. You must taste them as much with your mind - intellectually - as much as with your palate - hedonistically."
Tammy asked Jake, should we categorically ignore and dismiss wines that may be slightly lacking perfection?
He said, no, but only after we become bona fide connoisseurs and especially when we are evaluating prestigious wines. Initially, he said, we should accept what wine gives, should ascertain its balance of pluses over minuses: more pluses, the wine is good; many more, the wine is very good; considerably more, the wine is excellent.
He drew an appreciative nod from Tammy when he concluded: "First look for fruit, then fruit acids, followed by harmonious tannin in red wines, and conclude with wines' palate impression, its smooth swallow and its length of aftertaste. Above all: Do not make the pursuit of perfection a fetish. Seek reasons to enjoy your wine."
Thankfully, he spied Dr. Bob Ouellette and wife Lu, and hurried to join their table. Dr. Bob would be a more formidable adversary than I to rebut him when warranted.
I had finished my hors d'oeuvres of eight sirloin roulades and was into my fourth of five giant tender pan seared Nantucket scallops with pesto brown butter. With the accompanying St. Veran Domaine Morats 2000, J.J.Vincent, the hors d'oeuvres and wine combination were irresistible. Abstaining from them for eight and a quarter minutes, I proved again that my willpower of steel resists everything but temptation. Accepting that, I luxuriated with 13 hors d'oeuvres and four three-ounce pours of the white wine.
Hey, that St.Veran is some kind of wine - varied pronounced citrus and melon flavors with balancing acidity; crisp, firm, lively swallow. I was too busy sniffing, savoring, and swallowing to pay attention to the length of aftertaste. It's a reasonably priced wine, and Jim has it in inventory. He says all wines poured at the dinner are available at the Castle.
Back to the dinner: The Castle's reputation for superb gourmet food and outstanding wines drew the largest number of members and guests in my 21 years of membership - 59.
First course: With my first taste I knew I would be undone by my overeating when I was served and attacked the giant tender tiger shrimps drizzled with intriguingly seasoned heavy cream, accompanied by grilled pineapple, heirloom tomatoes, herb accented goat cheese and white wine Lugana Otella 2003 (Veneto, Italy). I felt like little Oliver Twist when I asked Jim, "Please, sir, I want some more."
I didn't get any. He said, that after noting my gormandizing on the hors d'oeuvres and guzzling with the wine, and after I downed the main course and dessert to follow, and I still had room -- he would oblige. (He didn't need to.) The large delicious dish, following the hors d'oeuvres, approached my satiety.
The Lugana's lively, crisp, zesty, smooth, balanced, pineapple, citrus, and subtle lemonade flavors perfectly counterbalanced the shellfish accent of the shrimp.
Came now the stomach-stretching, belly-busting, all-too-sumptuous main course of delectable escalope of veal with prosciutto (pastrami for me), fresh sage, creamy Muenster cheese, and Grand Master Chef Stanley Nicas'-made veal-sage ravioli. I was filled with food and wine up to my gills.
I should have had the veal course bagged and taken home. Such discretion would have been the better part of my gluttony: My appetite said, "Yes! Yes! Schlep it home to eat on an empty belly." My nose and palate said, "No! No! Be a macho gourmand and a devil-may-care trencherman and put it away here." So, steeling my resolve, I methodically and slowly fork-cut - didn't attack or rape - the tender veal and pastrami. I sniffed, savored, and swallowed the food, albeit suffering as I did so.
The Barbera Reserva Il Podere des Olivos 1994 (Santa Barbara, CA) is a rich, robust, rugged red wine. It took some 15 minutes breathing in the wide top-rimmed glass for the fruit acid intensity and tannin to soften. The full-bodied complex cherry, berry, tarry, tobacco, earthy flavors were deliriously compatible with the seasoned veal and pastrami. Its long aftertaste seemed forever.
I started to regret my having eaten and drunk so heartily of the hors d'oeuvres, shrimp, veal/pastrami, and wines. I should have desisted from something. But what would I have forgone?.......Nothing! Every iota of the dinner was perfection. Possible solution for my future dining: gain 20 pounds to expand my stomach, enabling me to stuff it with all delicious food....Nah!
Dessert: English trifle "Belle Helene," delicious custard with whipped cream on vanilla flavored sponge cake, was conceived in memory of - and dedicated by Stanley to his beloved and recently departed wife Helen. With the cranberry/apple sparkling wine Brachetto d'Aqui Merenco (Italy) the dessert capped yet another, and expected, superb dinner at the Castle.
For those of us reluctant to leave, Jim poured Vintage Porto 1997, by Martinez, and steaming freshly brewed coffee.
As I was leaving and walked over to some tables to exchange goodbyes, I heard a familiar voice haughty and imperious: "We must kneel with heads bowed and chests bared in reverence before this Barbera and pay respects to its breed, race, and panache; it is reminiscent of my sipping an '82 Mouton with dear friend Baroness Philippine at the Chateau.
"Now let us give homage to this heroic wine: Heads bowed and bared now! Ladies unbutton your blouses! Gentlemen remove your shirts and undershirts! Ladies, now off with your bras! Yes, we're exposing the Full Monty."
I turned. Tammy, exquisitely aloof, was undoing her bra and demonstrating black belt wine snobbery as her tablemates gawked in awe. I taught her well.
Jake hurried over to join us: "I found some negatives in the wines, but in the context of their plebian pedigrees and price values - albeit simple indeed, but honest, without pretentiousness or aspiration. I am proud to salute them!"
Tammy frowned with disgust: "Looks like we have a bombastic wine snob here."
I stepped into the lengthening shadows of twilight, then back into the restaurant. I implored Jim to hurry up and schedule another wine dinner.
Wine pick: Wolffer "La Ferme Martin" 2000 Chardonnay, around $14. Refreshingly crisp, imposing, lip smacking, full-fruited - pineapple, melon, and subtle lemonade with floral and herbaceous undertones - exquisitely balanced, lush finished and long-delayed farewell. It's not Burgundy, but it is a superb wine very well worth its price.
Wine pick: Genesis Merlot 2001, around $18, by Hogue Cellars of Washington. Lush rich fruit and silky tannins tantalize the palate with aromas of black olives, currants, and berries with a hint of earth. The aromas complement the palate's black cherry, plum, and clove spice flavors; sweet oak adds complexity to the smooth swallow and lingering aftertaste. Will only improve with bottle aging.
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julian@oxfordwineroom.com