A Tale of Two Bottles
Posted on | August 25, 2010 | Written by Janice Cable | 2 Comments
As a writer and a misanthrope, I spend much of my time alone, brooding, typing and occasionally, writing. But this past summer, I’ve been unusually social. I attended dinners, parties and weekends away, all pleasant obligations that require me to purchase and proffer a bottle or six of wine. This past summer, the social summer of 2010, has been defined by two specific bottles of wine: Di Conciliis Falanghina 2008 and Valle Dell’Acate Il Frappato 2008.
Neither of these bottles is particularly chic—they both come from southern Italy, areas windswept and arid, not lush, romantic regions like Toscana and Piemonte—so I wasn’t buying to impress a wine snob. They’re not expensive; both retail in the low $20 range. They’re not crafted from well-known varieties; rather, both Falanghina and Frappato are little-known indigenous grapes. They’re not big, fruity, international wines; some people might not easily understand either bottle. Not endowed with the qualities given to most hostess gift wines, the wines I chose are small, delightful, slightly eccentric and cheap—and I love them.
I’m not very good at describing wine in customary wine discourse. I could say that the white Falanghina has a white peach and lychee palate and a bouncy acidity or that the red Frappato has a lovely bright cherry color, a nose of raspberries and a charming, lissome body, but I’d sound disingenuous. That’s not how I think of these wines. It’s now how I remember them, and it’s not why I cart them by the case out to Fire Island.
Instead, I’d say this: the Falanghina always reminds me of a really pretty girl who is a lot snarkier and smarter than you first thought, and the Frappato always makes me think of eating berries on Central Park’s Great Lawn with the love of my life. Regardless of how I think of the wines—with analogies to fruit and flowers or in metaphors of people and experiences—I’ve enjoyed spending time with these wines, and I’ve liked them enough to introduce them to the people I love.
Summer is ending, and even a curmudgeon like me starts to feel nostalgic. My nostalgia too has become embodied in these bottles. Though the Falanghina may have begun in Campania and the Frappato in Sicilia, they’ve become forever attached to my summer here in Manhattan, on Fire Island and in Vermont. Though they’re wines, they feel like friends. I’ll miss them when they’re gone.
Tags: $20 wine > Falanghina > Frappato > italian > Italy > valle dell'acate Il frappato > wine > wine snob
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My Summer Pasta Love
Posted on | August 24, 2010 | Written by Maya Borenstein | No Comments
This summer has been brutal—there have been waves of heat and rain and occasional weird drops in temperature. This past summer’s weather means days when I don’t know what to eat, whether I should eat something light or something heavy, whether I should eat something cold or something hot. My body doesn’t seem to know exactly what it wants, so this summer I took it upon myself to create the perfect summer pasta. It can be served either hot or cold; thus no matter the weather, it’s a perfect dish.
Ingredients:
1 box of pasta (I prefer farfalle)
1 bunch of asparagus
1 lemon, zested
A few basil leaves, about 4 big ones
2 tablespoons of olive oil
Red pepper flakes (choose amount based on how spicy you like your pasta)
1 pint container of crumbled feta cheese
¼ cup of pine nuts
Directions:
Cook pasta according to the package—I like it al dente. Once the pasta is cooked, I rinse it and then put it back in the pot. I drizzle the pasta with olive oil, and let it sit. As the pasta sits, I steam the asparagus and then chop the stalks into pieces about 1 inch long. I coarsely chop the basil and zest my lemon. I toss the asparagus in with the pasta, and then add the basil, lemon zest, red pepper flakes and mix it all up. Then if I’m serving the dish cold, I refrigerate it. When I am ready to serve the pasta either as a cold pasta salad or a hot pasta dish, I add in pine nuts and feta cheese.
Rare is the dish that is equally excellent hot or cold, no matter the weather. I’m proud of myself for coming up with this one, and I hope you enjoy it as much as I do—rain, shine, or days in between.
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Corked Wine
Posted on | August 23, 2010 | Written by Tina Benitez | No Comments
Nothing hurts more than opening a bottle and finding that it’s undrinkable. Most of the time, the culprit can be found in one simple phrase: cork taint. Cork taint is fairly self-explanatory; it’s a cork that has been tainted with TCA or Trichloroanisole, which usually spoils the entire bottle of wine and can derive from the barrels or other cooperage. Nevertheless, it’s a really rare occurrence. Cork taint is also why any good server or sommelier will ceremoniously hand you the cork before tasting—you can smell the potential taint in a dry cork long before you taste the wine.
If, when you swirl and sniff, you smell more cork than fruit or other components in the wine, you’re smelling a bad sign. Some folks can tell if a wine is corked by scent alone; however, a sip is usually the next step, and it’s usually foolproof. The wine will smell like wet newspaper or dog, mold, or old sneakers and will usually overpower any natural fruit, spice and other aromas in your wine and shorten the finish of the wine.
Sipping, or even drinking, a corked wine is not the end of the world; it won’t kill you. It won’t even make you sick. One could even argue that tasting a corked wine is part of learning about wine. It’s a taste you won’t forget, however unpleasant, and having tasted it once, you’ll know what to look for in the future.
If you’re not sure know how to spot, or smell, a contaminated bottle, you aren’t alone. Most of the time, corked bottles are never returned to the store or restaurant; they’re simply remembered as a really bad bottle of wine. Whatever you do, never try to return a bottle that is half or nearly empty—if you’ve drunk that much, you need to accept your loss and move on, as hard as it may be to throw away a favorite wine. If, however, you’ve noticed the wine is corked upon opening, you have every right to return it, whether at a restaurant or a shop.
The good news is that cork taint really isn’t very prevalent. With any luck you’ll never have to experience it in all your wine tasting, though if you do, you’ll survive to drink another day.
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August 25th, 2010 @ 5:38 pm
Frappato, the Great Lawn, and the love of my life…. Ahhhh!
August 26th, 2010 @ 5:39 am
We would love to bring you in contact with your next summer- (or winter-) wines, well known grapes but grown on singular vulcanic soil. I loved your article.
Best regards
Manuela Zardo