Alexandre Monmousseau's Turonien Vouvray, 2010

Crisp, dry and citric, the tartness fills your mouth like a slice of lemon crème pie. Chilled, have it with oysters (or, like I did, with oyster tartare).

Bernard Bouvier's Fixin, 2006

I didn't know this brand, but I bought it because I dig a good Bourgogne and also because it said "vieilles vignes" on the bottle. I've never seen a label that marketed the maturity of its vines - which makes a substantial difference in the maturity of the wine itself.

This is a delightfully rich and complex dinner wine - there's depth, but a warm little kiss of tart too, for personality. Whatever age those vines are, you can taste them, and they make good on the promise.

I Guess It Shouldn't Be Surprising.

I feel pressure to update this site now because I found out that people who know me read it. And actually use it for saying stuff. About wine.

Rogue French Winemakers Push Fake Pinot Noir to US Buyer

The court ruled [12 French winemakers and traders] had deliberately and repeatedly mislabelled the wine as one of the more expensive varieties of grape in order to get a better price from E and J Gallo [whose] [...] Red Bicyclette Pinot Noir single grape wine is hugely popular in the United States.

French Customs officers spotted the swindle and called in investigators.

They found the amount of Pinot Noir being sold to Gallo was far more than the region produced.

Well, that's disappointing. It also reminds me of something I read in Wine and War: French winemakers, hassled during WWII to keep the Germans elbow-deep in the fruits of their labour, reveled in collaborative efforts to bottle bad product behind beautiful labels.

In that context, I thought it funny. In this one, well, it just makes the whole thing stink slightly worse.

Orin Swift's The Prisoner, 2007

This treasure of the Orin Swift cellars boasts the complexity of its Goya namesake:

50% Zinfandel
24% Cabernet Sauvignon
14% Syrah
9% Petite Sirah
2% Charbono
1% Grenache

'07's got a lively red velvet nose and is peppery on the throat. Fruit boasts a sharp, technicolor clarity compared to the '06 vintage, which is fuzzy in comparison.

My uncle, a California vino buff, loves this stuff and buys it by the crateful. I saw him over Christmas and he gave Benj and me a bottle of the '07 -- the last bottle from his very last crate. "It's hard times," he said. "We probably won't be buying more anytime soon."

We took it back to my parents', where we were staying for three weeks, and hid it in my luggage. Upon returning the next day from a day trip, my mother sidelined me at the door with a worried expression.

"I have to talk to you about something," she said slowly.

She didn't have to finish. I looked beyond her, into the brightly-lit dining area crowded with my dad's high school buddies, and saw the last drops of our Prisoner pouring -- luscious, rich, red! -- into someone else's glass.

I screamed. And then, realizing I may jeopardize the Prisoner experience for others, gracefully apologized and excused myself to my bedroom, where I buried my head in a pillow and threw a muffled teenage-girl fit.

Clos Mimi's Petite Rousse Syrah, 2005

"Appellation" Paso Robles, CA; a Clos Mimi Syrah. It's got a charming dusty grape juice colour, and I've always found the packaging irresistibly cute.

Otherwise not a very serious wine, and it certainly doesn't hold a candle to the Paso Creek 2005 Merlot.

I'd compare it to candy. It's got this tangy Twizzler kick, and a sharp artificial blueberry tang. A little beefy on the rear though.

Even the smell seems manufactured by a rogue Oompa-Loompa. It's not that it's bad; it just lends the sense that Petite Rousse is not a natural-born creature.

Strange Carafes

Wine glasses that mimic the veins beneath your skin, courtesy of artist Etienne Meneau. Dubbed Petit Coeur ("Little Heart"). Each 20-cm Pyrex wonder will set you back about EU1500, plus shipping.

What a steal. Lovely though.