Argiolas Costera Cannonau di Sardegna 2013

One of the most amusing and annoying parts of working at Whole Foods was dealing with the Dr. Oz groupies. These people would show up in droves looking for whatever "miracle" cure for... whatever... that "amazing" man was currently being paid to sell them on his show at the time. I usually got to watch this from a safe distance since I worked strictly in the beer, cheese and wine department. Then came the day that, for some unfathomable reason, Dr. Oz decided to try his hand at selling wine, specifically Sardinian Cannonau. From what I could gather he'd claimed that the the people of Sardinia, who apparently drink nothing but wine all day, were more likely to live to 100 (why anyone wants to live to 100 is truly beyond my understanding). What his viewers heard was that if they imbibed enough of this wine they could live FOR-EV-ER and they descended upon us like vultures. These were people who only drank wine when it was sweet or mixed with orange juice, so I wound up feeling rather bad for selling them an almost $30 bottle of wine I knew they would hate. Unfortunately there was no convincing them to ignore this latest "prescription" from this daytime television doctor they believed in wholeheartedly.

I have no idea if the bottles of Argiolas Costera Cannonau di Sardegna (the only Cannonau we had on the shelf) were ever actually imbibed. To be honest, they'd been gracing our shelf for quite some time and while it was nice to finally sell them, I rather doubt those buyers took more than one sip before pouring the bottle down the drain.  Absolutely none of those customers ever came back to buy another bottle so I suppose their desire for immortality wasn't that great. Quitters.

I hadn't really thought about those days until one of my sales reps gave me a bottle of 2013 Argiolas Cannonau and it brought the memory of that amusement and chagrin flooding back.

 

The Italian island of Sardinia is the second largest in the Mediterranean Sea, located just south of Corsica. The dominate red varietal grown there is Cannonau (aka Grenache) most believe it came there during the nearly 400 years the island was ruled by the Spanish Kingdom of Aragon. There is also the theory that the grape actually originated in Sardinia. No matter which is correct it's a grape that does very well in the warm Sardinian climate. 

The 2013 Argiolas Costera Cannonau is 90% Cannonau, 5% Bovale Sardo and 5% Carignano, it spends 8-10 months in French Oak barrels and 5 months in cement vats. The wine is full-bodied and spicy with notes of dark cherry and baked strawberry on the nose. The fruit carries over to the palate and is joined by hints of anise, black pepper and cloves. It finishes dry with firm tannins and bright acidity. It would really shine with pairings of roasted meats or pastas with red sauce. I really enjoyed this bottle and the walk down memory lane that came with it. 

Apollonio Primitivo 2011

I recently had a disagreement with someone about Zinfandel and Primitivo being the same grape. It wasn’t much of an argument since his only response to any proof I presented that they weren’t the same was “Yes they are” and eventually I just gave up and bowed to his obviously “superior” knowledge. It did cause me to try and research the topic and what I found were a lot of conflicting facts. Some people claimed they were the same, others that they weren’t identical, but clones of the Croation grape Crljenak. The latter theory is the one I agree the most with since while the Zinfandels and Primitivos I’ve had are similar in some ways, I’ve also found them to be quite different in others. In my opinion Primitivos tend to display spicier, earthier notes with red fruit flavors whereas Zinfandels are smoother with notes of darker fruits.

I personally tend to prefer Primitivos because I find them to be more complex and interesting. Kye is probably sick of me bringing them home, but the ones that I do I can’t seem to stop buying. My favorite by far has been the 2011 Apollonio Primitivo from the Salice Salentino DOC in Apulia/Puglia, the heel of Italy. Aged for 12 months in American oak and cherry-wood barriques, which comes through on the palate. It’s full-bodied and rich with notes of stewed blueberries, figs and plums. There’s hints of clove and anise on the finish followed by a slight acidity and smooth tannins.

It’s been one of my favorite finds this year and reminded me how much I love Italian wines.

Le Monde Refosco 2014

The best and worst thing about working in wine sales is dealing with the customers. Experience and a bit of psychology have taught me to gauge how people will treat my offer of help when they’re looking for wine, though sometimes they still manage to surprise me (but not often). Possibly my favorite interaction in the last year was a middle-aged guy who was looking for Napa Cabernet and questioned every single thing I told him about the wines I suggested in an almost combative manner. It turned out he’d lost his sense of smell and that’s why he was so adamant about questioning my descriptors on every wine I suggested. It was both intimidating and galvanizing because his questions made me really delve deep into my memories about certain wines so I could give him a more complete idea about the wines I suggested rather than the half-assed BS that I sometimes spout when I can tell people won’t care. I wound up talking him into a 2012 Heitz Napa Valley Cabernet and it turned out to be a new favorite for him. When I next encountered him, he had two bottles of the same wine in his hands and actually apologized for, in his words, being rather unpleasant before (to which I assured him I’d actually really enjoyed talking to him and he’d been my favorite customer in a while).

Anyway, what I’m getting at is that even though I might deal with several unpleasant people in an eight hour shift, all it takes is one awesome interaction to make it all worth it. If I can make just one customer trust that I won’t steer them wrong and buy what they might view as a potentially weird wine that they know nothing about, then my night is made. Lately that “weird” wine has been 2014 Le Monde Refosco from Fruili.

Refosco dal Peduncolo Rosso is a red grape indigenous to Northern Italy. The wines it produced were praised by the Roman writer Pliny the Elde and though he never got to try this particular wine, I’m sure it would have lived up to his standards. I’d had bottles with this grape blended with other varietals, like Merlot, but this was the first time I’d tried a wine that was 100% Refosco. It was full-bodied with rich notes of baked raspberry, blackberry and black olives. Bold tannins and a hint of acidity led to medium, yet satisfying finish. It was fun wine for under $20 and one I was glad I’d taken home.

30th Birthday Wines

I turned 30 a couple of weeks ago and was rather disappointed that I didn’t immediately turn into a withered, old hag (the way some people react to the “big three-oh”, I’d naturally assumed that was what would happen). I’d really been looking forward to being able to wave a cane and croak at kids to get the hell off my lawn, though I suppose I could still do that, but it wouldn’t be the same seeing as how I still look like I’m under 21 (no, it’s not a blessing, it’s just annoying), plus I don’t really have a lawn.

Despite that letdown, it was a great birthday since I got to spend it drinking some rather incredible wines (and oh yeah, there were a couple of awesome people there too who also made it great, but the wines definitely stole the show).

The night before my birthday, Kye opened a 2015 Yves Cuilleron “La Petite Côte” Condrieu and a 2012 Bernard Levet “Les Journaries” Côte-Rôtie, both of which he had me blind.* I wound up calling the Condrieu a Spanish Albarino (in my defense it was still very cold when he poured it, after it warmed up a bit it was obviously viognier, but we both still gave me crap about it). I did better with the red though, the second I got that whiff of funky barnyard and smoky meat I knew it could only be Rhone. I went a bit too South with my call (Gigondas), but wasn't totally unhappy with my call.** So we got to toast my birthday at midnight with wines from what might be my favorite region (Rhone, obviously) and all was right in the world.

Then the day after my birthday I got a package from Rare Wine Co. that contained some surprises: a 1987 Lopez de Heredia Reserva Tondonia and a 1987 D’Oliveiras Bual Madeira. My parents felt bad that they were missing my birthday to go on a trip to Canada so they’d conspired with Kye to get me a bottle of something that I wouldn’t ever think to get for myself and they nailed it. Kye, being the amazing dude that he is, threw in the Madeira as an extra.

Lopez de Heredia has been one of my favorite producers ever since Kye introduced me to their incredible wines a few years ago. They’re one of the few Rioja producers who still use the traditional American oak barrels instead of French, which I tend to prefer in that region’s wines. Also, they age their wines for longer than is required for the region (the most current vintage for their youngest wine is 2008). Despite the lack of an ah-so, Kye didn’t have any issues with opening the bottle and we even decanted it the “proper” sommelier way, with a lit candle behind the bottle in order to see the sediment and an actual glass decanter. It was delicious, still retained the red fruit notes, had that hint of coconut that you get from American oak and had nicely balanced acidity and tannins. It was probably one of the best wines I’ve ever gotten to drink.

The D’Oliveiras Bual Madeira was strictly from Kye since we both love Madeira, but can’t always find that great of a selection in retail store here since most people just buy it for cooking. It was super nutty, almost reminded me a bit of sherry and had a sweetness that perfectly complimented that. I didn’t wind up finishing the bottle until almost a week later and though it had become a bit more acidic by then it was still amazing.

So that was my 30^th birthday and there’s nothing about it I can complain about. The people I spent it with and the wines we opened made it perfect.

*Meaning a blind tasting, where you must determine varietal, region and vintage a wine might be based solely on what you get from sight, smell and taste. And no, it’s not magic or bullshit, if you have the knowledge and practice enough it’s totally possible (though definitely not easy)

**Kye was also a bit offended that I’d think he’d get me an Albarino and Gigondas for my birthday, but he quickly got over that