Port - Warrior by Warre's

I was taking a read through Wine Spectator's end of the year issue of the top wines of 2010, when I came across an ad for Warre's Warrior Port. I knew the port as it is the oldest in the world, but I noted the label of the bottle looked different when they changed to the new vintage (2009). Having been to Portugal to drink my face off, but not allowed to taste at Warre's after being kicked out of one of the storage sheds for “wandering and snooping” while taking pictures when I drunkenly stepped off the path of the tour, I was intrigued to try this new vintage of the tawny port (my favorite is Ruby by the way).

A few days later, I could taste port on my lips like blood to a vampire as temperatures had began to drop. The GF and I were out at Whole Foods and I spotted the bottle of the Warrior on the shelf ($26). I snagged the bottle and we headed home to cook our roast, parmesan crusted asparagus and mashed, red potatoes. I cracked the port as we cooked to let it breathe. Eventually I poured a taste into a small glass and took a swig, rolling it across my tongue. I was not overly impressed at first as it had a bit of a sting at 19% ABV.

A quick history lesson: Warre’s was established in 1670 by two Englishmen (William Burgoyne and John Jackson) who opened general trading offices for exporting wines, olive oil and fruit, as well as importing dried cod and English woollen goods in northern Portugal. The name Warre, came from the arrival of the first Warre in Portugal – William Warre, born in India in 1706.

By the close of the 18th century, Warre's had become one of the leading shipping companies of port, accounting for 10% of exported port to the world from Porto. The name Warrior was branded on the casks of Warre's finest Reserve Ports since the earliest days of the firm. The traditional style has been maintained over the years and it is today a classic full-bodied wine with richness and balance.

A couple of days after opening the bottle, I popped the cork again and poured a mouthful of the dark red tawny into a tasting glass. The port had really opened up and the lush perfume of ripe plums and cherries were prevalent right off the bat. On my tongue, the port was a bit complex, with an long lasting structure and finish.

I would pair this port with rich, nutty or chocolate desserts, as well as strong cheese or at the end of a meal as a palate cleanser. Although usually served at room temperature, Reserve Ports are equally delicious when served slightly chilled in hot weather and therefore could be paired with sorbets and even fruit cobblers.

The port was good, but there are others out there that are better for the price.

Wine - Chambourcin

On a recent trip with my girlfriend through the Virginia wine country, during the last months of fall, we literally stumbled into a winery called Hume Vineyards in Hume, VA. Upon entering the estate, we noticed that the vines were fresh. In fact, the estate was so new at the time that the grapes used to create the Hume wines of Vidal Blanc, Chambourcin, Detour (85% Cab, 15% Merlot), and Cabernet Sauvignon (95% Cab, 5% Cab Franc) are not estate grown/produced. Stephane Baldi (the owner/winemaker) assured us that though the grapes were not estate grown, he had produced some fine wines, and as we sipped for a full tasting with his assistant Stephanie, we realized he had.

I know many of you would never drink wine from Virginia, but I have news for you, it's getting better every year. Due to its climate, Virginia is known for producing excellent Cab Franc and Viognier, but during our tasting, I was turned on to a new varietal: Chambourcin. Now, I may know my shit about wines, but I am not a genis and definitely had to look this one up.

Like Viognier and Cab Franc, Chambourcin is a blending-Hybrid grape which is resistant to fungal disease and grows very well in cool climates. The varietal was created in the Loire Valley of France in the late 1800's by Joannes Seyve. Though created in France, the varietal no longer meets the requirements set up by French wine law as a stand alone varietal in quality. It is now abundant on the east coast (Maryland, Virginia, Pennsylvania, New York, New Jersey and North Carolina) and Midwest (Missouri) of the United States as well as Germany, Australia, and still remains in France.

At first taste, I thought I was drinking a Syrah with its intense spice. I noted currant, plum, a hint of licorice and black pepper. Falling into that medium to full-bodied category as Syrah, Chambourcin pairs well with anything from the grill (steaks, spicy sausage, barbecued pork or chicken) and dark chocolate (or desserts made from the chocolate).

I ordered a glass, bought a bottle to take home and stepped out to the porch of the tasting barn, where I enjoyed the fall sunset in the company of my girlfriend. My lips and teeth were dark purple when I got back in my Jeep and looked in the rear-view mirror, but I didn't care. I had tried something new and enjoyed the hell out of it!

Watch out for this one. One of my favorites in 2010 and definitely a hot item for 2011.

Chambourcin, Hume Vineyards, Hume, VA, 2009 - $19.00

The History of Eggnog

One of my guilty pleasures during Christmas is Eggnog. One of my first memories as a child (around 6 years old) was sitting in my parent's living room, playing with newly opened toys when my grandfather yelled from the bar, “Who's ready for some nog?”

“What booze did you put in it?” my dad asked.
“White Rum,” Grandad replied which makes sense now since he lived in the Florida Keys at the time.
“I'll pass,” dad started. “I'll just take a bloody Mary.”

I stood from my play area and went over to the bar. My grandfather pulled out two mason jars of Eggnog. It was so watered down with booze that it had the consistency of water.

“One day I'll teach you the recipe,” my grandfather said looking down at me, holding the jars in his huge hands.
“Don't teach him how to make that stuff” my mom said. “I don't know how you drink it.”
My grandfather smiled, poured some into a rocks glass, patted me on the head and said, “Drink up and don't tell your mother.”

That day I learned two things: One, it's not a lie if you don't tell anyone about it and two, never give a six year old rum mixed with eggs, milk and sugar. It burns going down and coming back out.

Years later, when I was in high school, my uncle (on mom's side) came over for Christmas day with a similar brown bag and placed it on the bar. He pulled two of the same jars out and unscrewed the caps. It had the same watery consistency as my grandfather's recipe.

“You like bourbon or rum?” my uncle asked.
“Not sure,” I replied seeing as how I was 14 years old and only had a few beers by then.
“You'll like this,” my uncle said. “It's bourbon.”

I took a swig and it stayed down. I tried more and then finished the glass. It burned as it had when I was a kid, but I was able to keep it down. That day I learned two things: one, I liked bourbon and, two, I liked eggnog after all and it became a holiday treat throughout college and into adulthood. I created my own recipe and served it to guests when I was bartending in school.Now that I'm doing this blog thing, I figured I would actually look up the history of this holiday delight.

Technically, eggnog or egg nog is a sweetened, dairy-based beverage made with raw eggs (beaten for the frothy texture), milk or cream, sugar, and spiked with liquor (mainly brandy, rum, whiskey, bourbon, cognac, or even moonshine). The concoction is usually garnished with a sprinkling of ground cinnamon or nutmeg.

Eggnog is a popular in the US and Canada during the winter celebrations such as Thanksgiving, Christmas, and the New Year. Commercial non-alcoholic eggnog is typically available only in the winter season but it can be made other at other times from homemade recipes such as the one passed down from my grandfather. Since the 1960s, eggnog has often been served cold and without spirits, both of which are significant departures from its historical origins.

One school of history believes that eggnog originated in East Anglia, England. Another believes it was derived from “posset,” a medieval European beverage made with hot milk. The "nog" portion of the name comes from the word "noggin", a Middle English term used to describe a small, carved wooden mug used to serve alcohol.

Another story is that the term derived from "egg and grog", a common Colonial term used for the drink made with rum, “Grog meaning booze. Eventually that term was shortened to "egg'n'grog", then "eggnog.”

At the time of it's inception, the ingredients for the drink were expensive in England and it became popular mainly among the aristocracy since the average Londoner was so poor that they could barely afford milk – not to mention the brandy or Madeira or even sherry to mix with it.
When the drink crossed the Atlantic to the English colonies during the 18th century, the main alcoholic ingredient changed since brandy and wine were heavily taxed. Rum from trading with the Caribbean was a better, cost-effective substitute. With the new farm land complete with dairy products in the new world and a new, inexpensive liquor, the drink become very popular in America. Americans turned to domestic whiskey, and eventually bourbon in particular, as a substitute when the supply of rum was reduced as a consequence of the American Revolutionary War.

And there you have it. A quick history of eggnog. Pick it up next year and don't forget to spike it, but don't give it out to toddlers!

Intro – What I Do!

What do I do? I drink. I drink a lot. Do I guzzle full bottles of vodka Nicholas Cage style as in “Leaving Las Vegas,” no, but I love booze. I was the head buyer for one of the busiest restaurants in the world, trying new wines and liquors from around the world every day. I quit my job to head to Europe alone and drank my face off through 42 cities and 14 countries. The picture to the left is of me drinking Absinthe while in Prague. I even hit Oktoberfest in Munich and taught many nationalities that Americans can actually drink beer and the Italians, Spanish and French that I could not only drink and hold my wine, but I could speak intelligently about it.

What is this blog? It's a forum for me to tell you what I'm drinking past, present and future. It's to tell you what's hot, what's not, and what plainly just sucks. Why would you listen to me? Cause I know my shit and you don't. In fact, over 90% of Americans have no idea what they are drinking. Think about it: ladies how many times have you ordered a Chardonnay at the bar and had no idea what it was or where it was from; or guys, how many times have or ordered a vodka tonic and received shit vodka? How about when you go to the store or a restaurant and ask for a recommendation, only to be hit by the most expensive item on the menu? They know you're a sucker. Lets face it people, we are clueless. Yes, I was too until I found a passion to learn about these things.

Why else should you listen to me? Because no one is paying me to write this stuff. It is my opinion as an expert. I will never tell you to like something because someone paid me – besides, you will only like what you like anyway; no matter what marketers want you to buy.

One of my favorite stories is when I was bar tending in college at a country club in Alabama, we had two regulars that would bring in friends every Saturday night. One night the Ramsey's we'll call them, brought in two couples. The Ramsey's were in real estate and were new money. They would order wine from me based on price. The more expensive the bottle, the more they would order it. Well on this night, I thought I would try something different. The day before, I had been to the state store to pick up booze for the club. The older clerk made me an offer I could not refuse by offering magnums of Cabernet for $4 a bottle. That's right, $4 for three liters of crap wine. I don't remember the name of the wine, but it doesn't matter...it was pure crap. I figured I could pour it off as a house wine for a wedding one day, but when I saw the Ramsey's that night, I put a plan into action.

At first, they asked me for a reserve list of bottles and I told them I had a wonderful Napa Valley Cabernet since I knew they loved Jordan. They asked me the name and I made something up, noting that the wine was full bodied and full of plum, lush berries, and had hints of tobacco, leather, and a bit of earth tones. I had no idea what I was talking about. These were just words I had read off the back of a bottle somewhere, but they bought it hook, line and sinker. Mr. Ramsey laughed and ordered six glasses, which I discretely poured from the large bottle behind the bar. Mr. Ramsey took the first sip and I held my breath. “Magnificent,” he exclaimed in a southern accent. “Cole knows his fucking wine!” Truth was I didn't know shit, but I sold them shit by making it sound good.

They drank several glasses and asked to see the label, but I told them I had just tossed the bottle and the barback had just taken it out. My manager came in and asked for the same wine for the Ramsey's once they were in the dining room and I grabbed another large bottle to open. He was pissed when he found out, spurting out, “How dare you give them that? I am taking them a bottle of Jordan.” He returned within a few minutes and said they wanted what I was giving them. I laughed and poured two more bottles throughout the night.

The point of the story? People don't know a fuck about what they are drinking and they should. I am here to guide you through the multiple layers of shit to find the good stuff you'll love.