Sassicaia’s Piero Incisa della Rocchetta and his skillful team know how to make extraordinary wines—no matter where he is.  Bodega Chacra’s vineyards are located in the Rio Negro Valley of Northern Patagonia about equidistant east to west from the Atlantic to the Andes. This wine region has the pristine air, yielding a tremendous luminosity of sunlight for the grapes.  Biodynamically made, the wines are as natural and pure as winemaking gets, and it is most certainly evident in the glass.

The 2010 Barda (meaning ridge) is beautiful, vivacious, clean, and pure–and a steal at $26.  It shows a light ruby color in the glass, a light yet intriguing nose with violets and delicate red fruit, and a clean surprisingly long finish.  The wine matched the gorgeous afternoon perfectly.

On one of his visits, Piero Incisa della Rocchetta taught our staff to reserve a few drops of wine at the end of each glass, swirl around, and take in a huge whiff capturing the essence of the wine; even in a nearly empty glass, this wine smells beautiful.  At a low alcohol percentage of 12.8, this Barda is very enjoyable on its own (especially on a day like Saturday); if enjoying with food, I would recommend an array of wild mushrooms sautéed lightly with a little butter and a tiny bit of herbs, or perhaps a really fresh salad.  I know that we are nowhere near out of winter’s woods, but it was a thoroughly enjoyable to see a preview of spring, helped by this pure, fresh, and totally enjoyable Pinot Noir.

I have an uncanny knack for selecting a glass or bottle that is exactly what I wasn’t looking for. Perhaps my mind is overstimulated by all of the choices and all of the different things I want to take into account when choosing – variety, label design, producer, appellation, and price. I also now find myself avoiding items on wine lists that we carry at IWM, simply because I’ve seen it before. Lately, my missteps have been far worse than usual and resulted in unfinished glasses I’ve left behind at restaurants or half-finished bottles sitting on my kitchen counter for weeks, before I either toss out the wine or pour it into a pan with some chicken. Two weeks ago I purchased what I had hoped would be a rustic and delicate Pinot Noir, but it turned out to have so much fruit that I imagined pouring it into an ice cube tray and turning it into popsicles. And last week I ordered a Sancerre at dinner that was more like a New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc than one from the village in the Loire. Such a disappointment!

Perhaps my problem that is I am so intent on finding the perfect choice to accompany my meal or enjoy with Law and Order on the couch that I overanalyze rather than go with my gut instinct. I don’t think that I’m alone with this problem; in fact I know I am not, as I was asked for my advice this past weekend (and a few weeks before that, and then again this past Tuesday, and so on). However, I have trouble crafting an answer that would be simultaneously helpful and honest. Part of me thinks it is best to look for something you know you are going to like—for example, a particular producer or a specific grape variety. But the wine lover in me also thinks about the vast array of choices to sample, and I can’t help ignore the fact that trial and error is an excellent way to learn about wine.  Still I am left wondering how to choose one wine from among the bottles clamoring for my attention—and more importantly, how to choose wisely.

I’m not unaware of the irony inherent to a wine professional asking for guidance in choosing wine, but I feel I’m suffering the problem of an embarrassment of riches. There are so many possibilities that I feel overwhelmed so often it feels like déjà vu all over again. So I humbly turn to you and ask you this question: how do you pick your wine? And how do you know when you’re doing it right?