Finger Lakes in the Winter

 

 

Why would anyone go to lake country in the winter?  What could one do on a freezing cold lake in the dead of winter in Central New York? Not much, not even ice fishing and ice skating because the 11 finger lakes that dot the landscape between Buffalo and Syracuse generally do not freeze in winter. Waterskiing would be challenging in the cold although with the right wet suit, I imagine it’s possible, though silly to ponder. And yet people tour these lakes in the winter nonetheless for one thing and one thing only, WINE.  With some 130 wineries mainly around 4 lakes: Keuka, Seneca, Cayuga and Canandaigua, the Finger Lakes are the 3rd largest wine producing area in the country.  Known for grapes that grow well in cool climates, the Finger Lakes region generates some of the best Rieslings wines in the world and increasingly some of the better examples of Pinot Noir, Chardonnay, and Cabernet Franc found anywhere.

On a recent visit to the Finger Lakes, my wife and I sampled and bought wines from 8 wineries on Seneca and Cayuga Lakes.  2016 and 2017 vintages are outstanding, particularly the Rieslings and Cabernet Francs which we purchased in abundance, but of course, before you buy, sample, because not all are the same, and there is a wild variability in the Cabernet Francs and other reds from vineyard to vineyard in my experience.  The same can be said for the Rieslings, but to tell the truth, almost all of the dry Rieslings I sampled, I liked, so fresh and balanced, a little zesty acidic zing with just a hint of sugar and a clean mineral finish; a few really stood out – Wagner, Lamoreaux Landing, and Boundary Breaks come to mind.  I don’t care much for the sweeter Rieslings but if you do, there are many to be had.  Some odd Whites that we sampled and snatched up are worth mentioning and they include Wagner’s Fathom 107, a blend of Riesling and Gewürztraminer and Fulkerson’s Matinee made from the hybrid Himrod grape. The Red standouts that I sampled came from Sheldrake Point on Cayuga Lake for Cabernet Franc, Glenora for an unoaked Cabernet Franc, Wagner for its Meritage, Merlot and Pinot Noir Reserve, and Heart and Hands also on Cayuga Lake for its Pinot Noir.

Winter is a great time to visit the magical Finger Lakes.  The tasting lines at the wineries are short, and the views around the lakes are breathtaking with very little traffic to contend with. It feels like the lakes and the vineyards are there just for me, and me only.

Cheers!

 

 

Uruguay and the U.S.

You may have never considered the connection between Uruguay and the U.S. before or maybe I’m wrong and it’s all you think about.  The smartypants would say, “I know, both countries start with a U.” True, and a good connection, I’ll give you that.  Anything else?  Another wiseguy might say, “they speak Spanish and so do people in the U.S.”  And that would be true, although the brand of Spanish you hear in the States is nothing at all like what you hear on the streets of Montevideo.  As to other connections, if you’ve been following the news a little bit, you’d know that President Obama negotiated a deal with President Mujica of Uruguay to resettle 6 prisoners released from Guantanamo Bay.  And do you know why the Uruguayans agreed to resettle them?  One of the reasons is that President Mujica was once a political prisoner and felt an obligation to provide humanitarian assistance to the men.  Granting the prisoners refugee status, they are free in Uruguay to do what they please, even leave the country if they so wish. And though they seem grateful to be there, there are very few immigrants from Arabic speaking countries living in Uruguay – one estimate put the number at 300 –  and the country has no mosques.  The cultural transition may be difficult for the men, but the people of Uruguay on the balance seem to welcome their presence.

Now we don’t know the terms of the deal.  It is not known if the Uruguayans received anything in return for accepting the detainees or whether they would agree to resettle some of the other prisoners still left at Guantanamo Bay in the future. But if I were on the negotiating team for Uruguay, I would ask for two things, no three in exchange for cooperation.  1) Clean buses.  Buses spewing dirty diesel are everywhere.  The boulevards of the downtown area are caked in soot and the air is anything but bueno despite the fact that Buenos Aires is a short distance from Montevideo.  2) Better Internet for the people.  Did you know that Uruguayans have free Internet?  Sounds good, right? But there’s a catch.  It’s just 2GB of data a month.  That’s like a few google searches, browsing a couple of websites, 2 YouTube videos, 1 minute on Facebook, 10 photos uploaded and 5 minutes of a Netflix movie.  I know, I’ve been there.  3) Most Favored Wine Nation status.  Did you know that Uruguay produces some of the most interesting wines in the world grown from the tannant grape, indigenous to the country? The stuff is absolutely sublimely delicious and not easily found in the States.  Do try a bottle if you have the chance.

One last connection.  I didn’t know this until recently, but one of America’s greatest composers, Louis Moreau Gottschalk, who I would venture that most Americans have never heard of, grew up in New Orleans, moved to Paris, came back to the U.S., traveled extensively abroad, relocated to South America under very strange circumstances, and died in Rio. His Symphony #2 is dedicated to the great city of Montevideo.

South America Travelogue – Montevideo

Santiago Day 3

We were in Santiago for 3 days and actually did not see much of the cordillera because we stayed in Lo Valle Campino, a hillside community near the airport, no Andes in sight, obscured by hills and smog. Nena took us to El Centro which I guess translates to downtown where we met up with my niece Nati and her boyfriend Andres to watch Chile vs. Holland. Fanaticos were out in force ready for a grand celebration that never happened as the Orange clad Dutchmen lead by striker Robben outplayed the scrappy Chilean squad.

Downtown Santiago is a linear collection of buildings and shops for miles and miles. It has a little bit of a NYC feel without all the tall buildings and the sense of neighborhood. It felt like a giant outdoor shopping mall.

Graffiti is in abundant supply and some curious and colorful murals adorn city walls and subway structures, some of it good, some not; some sanctioned, some clearly not.

Our gracious Santiago hosts, Milton and Nena, made us feel at home in their tidy house with a living room constructed of pine wood adorned with local art. In addition to good conversation and cheer, we ate well. Nena served up Cazuela, a typical Chilean soup made with a clear broth, squash, beef, corn, potatoes, peas and green beans cut french style with pebre (a hot sauce) and fresh cut cilantro to sprinkle on top. She also served fish soup, fillet of reineta (a local fish) and Pastel De Choclo, a distinctive corn-based casserole. Wine poured a plenty, all local reds and whites. My favorite was the sweet late Harvest Riesling that had just the right balance of sweetness and acidity.

Montevideo, Days 1-2

From Santiago, we took a short flight to Montevideo and then a local bus from the Carrasco International airport to the city. We got off at our stop dragging our heavy bags, the heaviest weighing over 22 kilos, an oversized LL Bean bag. As we looked around for another bus to take to our friend’s apartment, we crossed a busy intersection, bags rolling behind us and I tripped over the bulky LL Bean bag my wife was dragging in front of me, getting good height and landing on my stomach atop my own bag, which served as sort of an air bag. Fortunately, I didn’t break any bones and only scrapped the bottom of my left hand that I used to help break my fall. The hand burned for a bit but seemed fine. When we finally got to the apartment, I noticed it was bleeding. I rinsed it off and applied a triple anti-biotic ointment I had brought along just in case. My youngest daughter, who witnessed the fall, could not stop laughing, to the point that she drew tears and a hiccup. I was not amused at the time. There were many locals standing around who also saw my tumbling act and god only knows what they must have thought of the strange gringo doing odd acrobatics with an orange bag.

If you know Spanish well, you will immediately notice that the Uruguayan accent is distinct. It’s hard to describe, but it has a sibilant quality, a sort of airy lisp that is pleasant to the ear, or at least to my ear. The people seem nice and accommodating thus far, although my wife had a bad encounter at La Chacra supermarket. All seemed fine at first. When we entered the store just as the sun set, a radio station was playing the song “Southern Nights”. The workers seemed friendly enough giving us recommendations on pasta, red sauce and the butcher prepared us a good cut of beef (lomo) that is popular in the country.  Uruguay is a meat eating place if ever there was one. And not surprisingly, beef is its major export.  But trouble began when my wife tried to buy the groceries unwittingly with my daughter’s debit card and her own ID. Obviously, the names didn’t match and they gave her a hard time about it. Ultimately, I had to pay with my debit card using my ID which matched. My wife asked the cashier to double bag some things but the cashier threw the bags at her in a huff and told her to “do it yourself”. True story. On a side note, I bought a combination corkscrew that cost 85 pesos or about $3.7 U.S. which turns out we didn’t need because there where 3 just like it in the kitchen drawer of our apartment.

We bought two 960 ml bottles of beer, one called Patricia, a hoppy and light lager, and a Pilsen Especial, which truthfully was not very special. The Patricia cost 57 pesos, ($2.49) and the Pilsen, 62 ($2.70). I doubt the locals drink these forgettable examples of Uruguayan swill. Being a local now for the next 7 days, I won’t be drinking the stuff either, well at least not the Pilsen.

The Internet here is interesting. For one, the government issues every resident, from what I can gather, equipment to enable free Wi-Fi – “Automatic for the People”. Our friend’s apartment has a modem/router with this free Internet but as we found out, it’s good for only 1 gigabyte of data per month which is little more than a few Google searches, 10 minutes of a movie on Netflix and about 4 photos uploaded and posted on Facebook. So, being the nice guests that we are, we used up her data plan as soon as we got on the Internet. After much bureaucratic maneuvering, several phone calls and a visit to the government owned Antel office, we, or more accurately, my eldest daughter  managed to “recharge” the 1 GB of data that we used for about 200 pesos ($10) and now we hope this gets us through our week. We pledged not to stream any movies or videos and only to check and send emails de vez en cuando.

We ventured downtown by bus (which is about the only mode of public transportation), got some maps of the city, headed to the Plaza de Independencia, to see the green statue of founding father Artigas, had an early dinner at the Cafe Brasilero that had free Wi-Fi, sent some emails, watched a World Cup match – Ecuador v. France, bought some beer and wine, which I am now sipping, the wine that is, a Uruguayan Gewurztraminer which cost about $8.60, that is, to be frank, slightly syrupy, not unlike a Viogner, and leaves a sweet and unpleasant medicinal cough drop like aftertaste. This recommended wine is unbalanced, but drinkable.

The tourist information clerks said that Uruguay is known for meat and in particular, the Chivito sandwich, a carnivorous delight and what I ordered from the Chilean waiter at the Cafe Brasilero in an area of town called the Old City near Plaza Matriz. This cafe has been around since 1877 and sports antique chairs and tables, brass chandeliers and a big screen TV for world cup enthusiasts. It seems to be a good place to chill, get connected, have a bite and a Cortado, (the local version of a latte) which we did, or a drink, which we did not. The Chivito consists of bacon, ham, beef, tomato and lettuce served open-faced on toasted bread topped with a sunny side up egg surrounded by lettuce and fresh cut french fries, all for 230 pesos or about $10.

We walked a lot on our first day in the city. My pedometer had me at over 14,719 steps or 6.9 miles, which is the farthest I’ve walked by far since I began using the app on my phone back in October.

Buses spew diesel fumes, and generally foul the air. Hybrid buses have not yet come to this big city nor has a subway system. Though we are not too far from Buenos Aires, the air is anything but good. And to make matters worse, everyone seems to smoke, and not just cigarettes, but weed too which is legal here.  With the air thick with toxins, and the population dieting largely on red meat, it’s a wonder the lifespan here is 76 years old.  Maybe I’m exaggerating, but it seems that most people are dressed in black. I’m not sure if this is just tradition for this time of year, which is the beginning of winter, or maybe it’s simply a fashion statement. People seem happy enough, but dress, ironically, as if going to a funeral.

Low T Red Wine

Do you suffer from low T? Too stubborn or embarrassed to go to the doctor to ask for that testosterone deodorant, Axiron?  Are you drowning your sorrows in Kentucky bourbon or cheap American beer? Well, you may be closer to a full restoration of your manhood than you think.  A recent UK study indicates that red wine contains some sort of miracle compound that keeps the body from eliminating the T hormone so easily.  A couple of glasses of red a night should do the trick, but no chugging straight from the bottle or drinking in excess – two glasses, not two bottles. But what kind of red grape? The study didn’t go there but I will.

So, what is the manly grape? It’s probably not Merlot, or pink Zinfandel. Pinot Noir is just too delicate and light to do the trick and a good one probably costs more than hormone injections. On the other end of the spectrum are the full-bodied Italian reds – Barbaresco and Barolo.  But like the Pinot Noir a decent Barolo costs a fortune. I would recommend a heavy Cabernet Sauvignon, a spicy Shiraz or Bordeaux or Bordeaux blend. Maybe go for a Malbec. I once played the word Malbec in Scrabble, but I was challenged and it was disallowed because the grape wasn’t in the American dictionary!

Now don’t rush out to the wine store and like a brute ask which wine has the most testosterone.  Be discreet.  Choose the wine like you know what you’re doing.  If anyone asks if you need help, don’t tell them you think you might have low T, just say you’re looking for a full-bodied red in whatever price range you can afford. If you don’t know how to open a wine bottle with a cork, ask for a twist off cap, not a box wine.  You can probably find a decent Syrah with a screw cap, but steer clear of Boone’s Farm and Riunite Lambrusco.  Trust me.

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Birds and Wine Don’t Mix

Birds are back in the news, this time in Romania.  And the news is not so good for a flock of  starlings.  Toxicology reports indicate the birds died from acute alcohol poisoning.   Apparently, the starving starlings pecked at the leftovers of a large batch of wine, which may have been grappa or ‘marc’ in the making, a grape based spirit.  At least they did not fall prey to fireworks as did their kin in Arkansas, or perish in the flames of a Roman candle.   I hope the Romanian grappa was tasty and death gentle.  There are certainly far more terrifying dangers to birds such as hailstorms, lightening strikes and the cat’s claw.

I used to drink Romanian wine many years ago because it was about the cheapest decent bottle with a cork I could find.   Romania, by the way, is one of the top wine producing countries in the world, which may explain why it is a popular destination for starlings.  I would advise the birds to stay away from the red dregs of Transylvania, one of the better wine producing areas in the country, and fly instead to Moldavia and sip on the sweet fragrant Sauternes, in moderation of course.

Boone’s Farm – My Introduction to Wine

Do you remember the Emerson Lake and Palmer song, From the Beginning? Great tune and brings back memories of my first forays into the world of wine, well if you can call it that.  From the beginning,  I would only buy bottles with twist off caps, Boone’s Farm, a wine I once thought had been brewed out in the boones in some barn.  I never liked it much but at the time, I didn’t know how to extract a cork, so it was either Boone’s Farm, Reunite Lambrusco or the Pink stuff in the box.   But even the corkless Franzia carton intimidated me with its potentially leaky extractable tap.

On the homefront, the parentals usually had a bottle of Blue Nun or Mateus in the fridge, decidely unhip wines that I secretly respected because of the cork.  The Mateus vessle looked like an antique vase or an industrial sized bottle of aftershave – a deluxe edition of Brut.

My first experience with a decent wine came in the mid 80’s when a quick scan of the radio waves would have revealed a still youthful but maturing REM and yet another U2 mega hit.  One evening I got together with some friends at a wine bar.  I made the mistake of sitting at the head of the table.  Someone ordered a bottle, nothing too fancy, but corked – that is to say, not screw capped.  Our sommelier adroitly extracted the cork,  set it on the table next to my hand and poured a little wine in my glass.  If the truth be told, I’d have preferred a beer; I still had a dreadful Boone’s Farm aftertaste in my mind even after all those years removed – or maybe it was Riunte Lambrusco, I couldn’t be sure.  Anyway, I thought it was nice of the wine steward to serve me first, but what about the others?  After a long and awkward pause, my cultured friend who had ordered the wine mumbled something about the cork and taking a sip.  I turned as red as the wine in my glass, picked up the cork, looked at it to acknowledge that it indeed was a cork, and downed the wine like a shot of whiskey.  The sommelier with a napkin delicately drapped around his arm stood staring at me and I was thinking – what…does he want a tip?   And all I could think to say was “thanks”.  And then he walked away.  My friends were rolling in laughter and I was like, “what”?

Spanish Red a Steal of a Deal

This is my first wine review.  Let me say at the outset that I am no wine expert.  I don’t have the most sophisticated palate.  I doubt I can describe a wine intelligibly.   But I do know what I like, “and I like what I know, you know it’s getting better…..”  Are there any Peter Gabriel, Genesis fans out there?  I digress.  Forgive me.  I’ll give this review a whirl.

I always have a few bottles of wine around the house, and never, or rarely pay more than $10 (US) on principle.  I stumbled across a Spanish red at my local wine shop rated 90 points by Robert Parker.  The tasting notes said something about wildflowers, licorice and soft tannins.  I don’t care for licorice, and don’t eat wildflowers, but the combination intrigued me plus wildflowers brought to mind Tom Petty’s album Wildflowers, and the Rolling Stones LP, Flowers,  which had a couple of memorable tunes  – “Ruby Tuesday” and “Mother’s Little Helper”.   Made from 100% mencia grapes, this is a 2005 offering of Flavium from the Bierzo region of Spain.   At $10, this Spanish red is a steal of a deal.

I got home, popped the cork and took a good whiff.  I couldn’t detect any wildflowers, but did catch a hint of menthol.  I took a sip – no swirl and spit, I just swallowed.  Nice!  The coolness of menthol was there, with some licorice and maybe cinnamon spice.  Fruity – jammy even.  I’m not sure what berry exactly – blueberry, cranberry, raspberry; almost Zinfandel like.  Soft tannins.  Smooth.  Long finish.  Wasn’t long til I finished half the bottle.  I liked it enough to buy two more, one for the house and another for a dinner party this weekend.  If you find Flavium at your local wine store, grab a bottle.  Or two.