Parisian Pawn Shops: Now Taking Wine

The Decanter reports that Parisian pawn shops will be accepting wine in exchange for cash for the first time ever. (Funny that it took so long.)

It all goes down courtesy of the Crédit Municipal de Paris, the "local authority" pawn shop, which typically deals in jewels and heirlooms. Wine will be stored in 80 percent humidity cellars under its building until owners redeem them. Wine that isn't eventually bought back by owners will be sold at auction.

The minimum value for pawnable wine is €60. If you're pawning, you can expect to cash in on about 50 percent of the value. (If you don't dig those rates, and can afford to wait for funds, there's always Wine Commune, where oenophiles hawk wares amongst their fellows.)

As of the 25th of March over 350 bottles -- totaling €60,000 -- have been pawned, including an '85 Domaine de la Romanée Conti worth €5,000.

Learn a bit about judging the value of old wines at the Wine Doctor. (Not terrifically optimistic.)

World Wine Map -- Changing with the Climate?

Arg! I'm doing a terrible job of updating here. (Mostly because I've been dry.)

I did get to try a Finger Lakes wine at a local restaurant some weeks ago. It wasn't anything special; not much more than you'd expect from a typical California chardonnay. (More acidic though.) I don't know much about the history of wine in upstate New York; it may become a pet project to try learning something about it.

Anyway, here's a link on how climate change may "redraw" the world's wine-producing map. (Thanks, Candace!) That is to say if France has the best wine because climate and geography permit, it's supposedly in for some serious blows. This could just be another lame way to justify its shrinking global marketshare, which was corroding anyway.

"The French 'Grand Crus' could be further threatened by the 'New World' wines of Australia, California, Chile, Argentina, South Africa and New Zealand, who would have the best climatic conditions," according to the article.

Now, if only the climate could redistrict for us.

Amazon Seeks Wine Buyer to Stock Cellar

Our favourite online big-box is expanding into wine. Will Amazon give Wine.com a run for its money?

Paso Creek Merlot, 2005

Paso Creek Merlot hails from Paso Robles, CA, a place that brings grit and desert to mind. It's a few degrees hotter than hell most of the year, and there's not much to see unless you're into tumbleweeds (which are HUGE, and not much fun to touch).

I picked the bottle out for three reasons:

1. Reading Judgment of Paris made me thirsty for that California pioneering spirit
2. The label had a texture -- like running your fingers over smooth asphalt. And check out the owl!
3. The label promised "bold character derived from stubborn patience." Couple that with an alcohol level of 13.5 percent -- conservative, in my experience with CA bottles -- and I felt like I'd come across the fruit of a radical.

We opened the bottle a few weeks ago. There was no occasion; it just seemed like a good night to throw back a drink. But the moment we popped the cork, I was intoxicated.

Paso Creek Merlot filled the room with a fresh-baked cookie smell. And it reminded me of my favourite shampoo, TIGI oatmeal and honey. All this warm raisiny goodness fell in stark contrast with the stained cork and the rich purple treat that we poured into our glasses.

It was like being in heaven. With a lot of carbs. Drink slowly: If you gorge, you're going to feel the way you did when you were eleven and ate all the molasses cookies. It also bears a slight blueberry aftertaste, which does refreshing battle to the iced oatmeal overload.

We finished it off the next night with chili, something I'd be hesitant to eat with any wine, especially this one. But the wine and chili were so cheerfully well-paired that I'd actually go out of my way to make chili the next time we uncork a Paso Creek Merlot.


Must be that desert charm. From the back of the bottle:

Paso Robles, off the beaten path between Santa Barbara and San Francisco, lays claim to the wildest temperature swings of any grape growing region in California. The daily climate drama causes our vines to produce small clusters and tiny berries, resulting in world-class, deeply concentrated wines. Small lot winemaking and patient barrel aging allow the bold character of our wines to fully develop.

This is officially one of my favourites. I don't just like it because it surprised me with that whole Grandmother's Cookies vibe; it's also unusually casual for a wine of its quality. Take it over a meal with a few good friends, or share it at a bonfire on Ocean Beach.