Wine Every Day, part one

Wine is most fun when it’s not relegated to special occasions or built up into a phobia. It should be part of your daily life. And now insert here the usual disclaimer about how there’s something here for everyone to appreciate, from the wine novice to expert. It seems like any wine writing must include that.

Wine enthusiast is a perfect term because these are people who tend to get inordinately excited when the subject of fermented grape juice arises. Give them a whiff of another person interested in wine, and settling them down is like trying to hold back a dog on a leash after it has picked up the scent of a hotdog. It’s hard to stop them, which leads to inevitable lapses into wine jargon and incomprehensibility.

But it is important to dispel the snotty attitude a lot of winos have. It’s also important to dispel the notion that writing about wine needs to be condescending. No jargon. No attitude. Just some simple, real information on wine that might be able to help you out in a liquor store sometime to impress the girl you’re cooking dinner for. (You do cook, right?)

Anyway, so the most basic question is, “Why wine?” Why not beer? Or vodka? Or rum? Or some other liquor? Why not mixed drinks?

There are five fundamental reasons wine is the ideal beverage. None of them will include flowery, complex descriptions that will mean nothing to you. If you want to start drinking wine, these are reasons you’ll stumble across all on your own. This isn’t to say there won’t be a place for Milwaukee’s Best in your lifestyle, but you might start to consider pushing aside grain alcohol punch, at least from time to time.

1. Flavor

This is obvious. Wine most likely won’t taste good or complex or compelling to you at first. It’ll probably taste like alcohol. What booze doesn’t? You have to show a certain amount of persistence to get beyond the alcohol taste, whether you’re drinking beer, liquor, or wine. As a society, we tend to manage this aversion through an ends-based approach: we want to end up drunk. But once you begin to discern a bit, you can realize the breadth of flavor available in even simple wines. There are five main types of wine: red, white, sparkling, sweet, and fortified. Yet within each of those five types are a variety of different styles because each comes from different grapes.

Wine stands out because of how closely the finished product winds up being to its source. It really is fermented grape juice, nothing more. You don’t have to go through complex chemistry to turn grape juice into wine. It’s a natural process that doesn’t even need the addition of yeast and, more importantly, one that changes the nature of the grapes very little. You can’t say the same thing about beer or spirits. In beer, the barley, hops, and other ingredients go through a heavy cooking process that changes their flavors dramatically. Distillation changes the fundamental chemical makeup of potatoes, grains, etc. to produce spirits. You don’t get nearly as pure a product in beer or liquor as you do with wine, which allows the characteristics of each grape variety — be it red or white — to shine through.

Good winemaking, as opposed to brewing or distilling, is largely a hands-off undertaking. You want the grapes to shine through on their own as much as possible. Beer and liquor, however, require a vigorous production process that tends to deaden flavor nuances.

2. Creation and variation

Beer and spirits are revered for their uniformity. This is a product of the processes used to create them, which is somewhat like a successful chemistry experiment replicated over and over again. It is admirable that Jack Daniels, for instance, can crank out barrels of whiskey with such consistency. The same can be said for beers, from microbrews to Budweiser. It’s comforting to know that, if you’ve tasted Absolut vodka once, it will taste the same two years down the road, but it’s not very interesting.

Wine, on the other hand, is admired for its variation. It is most frequently made from grapes grown in a single year (a “vintage”). A particular producer of wine may have a recognizable style or qualities in certain wines — like the minty smell often found in Heitz Cellars’ Martha’s Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon (that’s no bull; it really can smell like a fresh mint leaf) — but even wines made from the same vineyard in different years will vary is flavor and style.

There’s also the aging of wine, another variable that will change its taste and qualities. Hard liquor can go for years in the bottle and still be very much the same as it was the day it was packaged. Beer, after long enough, will spoil and is prized for its freshness. Without belaboring the point with too much detail, wine is like a favored pet: it has a precocious youth, steady period of maturity, and then moves past its prime.

Certain liquors are coveted for being aged, particularly whiskeys and rums, but that aging takes place in oak casks, not the bottle. Once capped off, liquor holds at a plateau indefinitely. And there is another way aged liquors are made: distillers simply change the chemical makeup of them and age them artificially. This is particularly common among rums, and tasters say the flavor of naturally aged spirits and their artificially aged counterparts is indistinguishable.

For wine, there’s no faking it. (Or maybe there is, as this excellent piece discusses.) Aging can be a good or bad thing. You never quite know what’s in store for you when you open a bottle that has been in the cellar for ten or more years. There’s a certain risk when you deal with variation, but the rewards can be so terrific it becomes part of the fun.

3. Moderate alcohol, light weight

Relatively speaking, wine tends to have moderate alcohol, ranging from eight-percent in lighter wines, such as Riesling (a white grape), to about twenty-percent in fortified wines, such as Port. More alcohol than that would destroy the balance of flavor. Less alcohol would give it a heavier, more fruit-juice-like quality.

Spirits, obviously, have much higher alcohol levels, generally in the range of forty to fifty percent. Alcohol itself is heavy; it weighs you down. That’s why a martini, for example, isn’t the ideal dinner accompaniment. Most mixers — such as fruit juices and carbonated waters — are heavier still because of their high sugar contents. Mixed drinks, without a doubt, can be deliciously refreshing. Who would say no to a good margarita at Hugo’s? But drink three or four, and you’re going to feel anything but light on your feet. Beer, on the other hand, has carbonation that makes it filling. It expands in your stomach and quickly gives you a somewhat bloated feeling.

4. Food companion

You’re going to be hard-pressed to find a beverage, other than water, that goes well with as many kinds of food as wine. Beer has its place, most definitely. Pizza and burgers and chili are great with a cold beer, and sometimes it just hits the spot. Even liquor, at times, does the trick as a food accompaniment. For example, rumjungle, at the Mandalay Bay in Las Vegas, does an admirable job pairing rum drinks with Brazilian pit barbecue.

On the whole, however, beer and spirits don’t complement food as completely as wine does. The range of flavors found within a single glass of Pinot Noir can enhance you’re the full range of flavors on your plate. Enjoying a good food and wine pairing brings out all the best elements in wine — its range of flavors and its unique expression of the grape and place of origin. Plus, with wine’s balance, relatively low alcohol, and light weight, you can enjoy it throughout a meal.

It’s hard to describe in general terms why you should drink wine with food. The best thing is to experiment for yourself. Bordeaux with good lamb? It’s a magical fusion of tastes and textures that cannot be duplicated with any other beverage. The pairings don’t have to be fancy, though. Try Champagne with popcorn or macaroni and cheese -- these have become common “odd” pairings over the last decade. The guide just has to be what pleases your mouth. There is such a range of styles with wine that, chances are, you can find something that matches your taste and your food. It is with food that beer and liquor seem the most one-dimensional.

5. Wine, my buddy

You might not think about this, but if you get into wine, one of the most rewarding aspects is the relationship you build with certain bottles. If you decide you like wine enough to start building a cellar for yourself, you’ll wind up with bottles that will stay on your racks for years.

You will learn the pain and pleasure of agonizing over when to drink one prized bottle — will it be too young? Too old? You’ll probably end up talking to it from time to time, wishing it could pipe up and give you some wisdom about the development of the wine within. This is all part of the fun. It’s a somewhat similar rush to gambling. You hope you pull the cork at the right time, that your investment of time, money, and space will pay off. You’ll feel exhilaration and disappointment.

You can get intimate with a wine, if you really want. Go see the vineyards. When was the last time you felt the urge to check out the potato farm or corn field that feeds into your favorite vodka distillery? There’s something tremendously organic about wine, and I don’t mean that exclusively as a method of farming. It’s a unique aspect to a beverage that actually takes on a life of its own. Not to mention the fact that wine has held a romantic place in the human condition for centuries. Wine in parts is hedonistic, sacramental, exhilarating, and depressing, and it is never without passion.

But perhaps the most important realization to make about wine is the easiest to grasp. Ignore wine enthusiasts, no matter how well-intentioned, who fill beginners with jargon and complexity, which they love to flash like it’s a membership card to some secret club. Having a good bottle of wine is always better with friends, but a tongue-lashing from a wine snob is the easiest way to ruin it. All you need to know is what you like, and drink that.

Friday Date Night: BRC Gastro Pub

Note: This is slated to be a recurring feature. Here's the idea: Date night should be dinner for two at a restaurant where there are enough options on the menu for you to have an excellent meal but not pay more than $15 for any single item (excluding wine). That gives you a strong measure of control over your final check. Sometimes it'll be somewhere romantic, other times it will be somewhere you can go with your honey and enjoy some quality people-watching. Whatever floats your boat. But it's good to get out of the house and spend a little time together.

BRC Gastro Pub generated a lot of strong reactions when it opened. Most of them related to the name. Big Red Cock. Forget that there's a big red rooster out front, reminding us of having fun with homophones. The name is probably funniest to those who are learning homophones in school right now -- what, seven- or eight-year-olds? Okay, it's a childish joke. But BRC is exciting. It comes from Shepard Ross and Lance Fegan of the Glass Wall, with Jeff Axline taking the reins at the stove on a daily basis, and this is what the Glass Wall does best. Bar food. (Read about that strength here.)

Initially, the kitchen had a few growing pains. The large potato chips served with the excellent pimento cheese dip were obviously prepared far in advance and came out soggy and soaked with grease. Subsequently, however, this defect has been corrected: the chips aren't spending as much time waiting around after they come out of the fryer. And, from the start, the kitchen has had more hits than misses.



The crab beignets are superb, fried skillfully, with a warm and gooey inside revealing plenty of crab. The boudin balls are a real treat. These are the not mushy, dense, nondescript boudin balls you find too regularly. These are light, delicious, and layered with flavor. Appetizers are a strength. The Glass Wall crab cake is slightly modified and as delicious as ever. But the Dr. Pepper fried quail came out with a chewy batter and cloyingly sweet sauce, though the quail themselves were excellent.



A handful of main entrees, although very solid, are not the star attraction. That is saved for the array of inventive sandwiches. There's the excellent and improbable flavor combination of the roasted brisket sandwich. On a thick piece of toast, the tender brisket is topped with mushrooms, caramelized onions, ham, smoked cheddar cheese, and gravy. It gets the right combination of smokey, salty, and savory.



The State Fair Griddled Cheese -- an unmistakably Texas interpretation -- has short ribs, cheese, and tomato inside. It works beautifully, although sometimes the tomato can intrude on the ooze you want in a grilled cheese. The chicken fried steak sandwich is an instant Houston classic, and Sheppy's Dogs might be the best pure hot dog in town. And, of course, the hamburger is very solid indeed. It's a steal on Mondays, coming in at $6.50 with fries.



On the side, the fries have been somewhat inconsistent but recently are better, obviously double-fried and crispy. The daily macaroni and cheese is beautifully executed, always faithful to the essentials of the dish: creamy, cheesy, and flavorful, without reliance on gimmicks.



Another high point is the dinners for four BRC features on Sunday and Tuesday. Sundays, you can get a fried chicken dinner for four for $60. For the same price on Tuesday, you get a Yankee pot roast dinner for four. It's a strong excuse to get together with friends and kick off the week.

The wine list is slim but smartly picked, with a couple real bargains. Given the food, though, you would like to see a few more Zinfandels and spicy reds on it. The selection of microbrews on tap is impressive, and the two sangrias are very pleasing. (BRC has a beer-wine license only; it doesn't serve liquor.)



There are only two downsides to BRC -- one potential and one very real that must be addressed. First, it's noisy inside. This noisy restaurant trend can't end soon enough. These places aren't sparing any expense, so why not invest in a couple acoustic panels? Second, and more importantly, service rarely has been good and too frequently veers into the woeful. You can only hope the service issues are a growing pain and will be corrected in short order. Given the extensive turnover among the wait staff, one can hope this is a kink BRC is aggressively trying to work out.

All told, though, BRC is a terrific date night place. It falls more into the people-watching rather than romantic category, but it's a great precursor for a night on the town.

First Look: Phil's Texas Barbecue

Oh look! It's another wood-and-metal building on Washington Avenue! Wait, what? It's not a haven for the Ed Hardy-wearing, off-center-cap-sporting, woo-hoo-shouting people? It's a barbecue restaurant? This holds some promise.

Until you go inside and eat there. Phil's Barbecue actually fits into the Washington Avenue scene perfectly. It's immaculate inside. Polished concrete floors. Lots of shiny stainless steel. You get the distinct impression that if your next stop is Pearl Bar or the Roosevelt or any number of the shiny-shirt shops, this is the barbecue joint for you. It's trendy. You won't get your fingers dirty at Phil's. This is the antithesis of a genuine barbecue place. It doesn't even smell smokey inside.

Maybe these were just growing pains of a newly opened restaurant -- an unlikely event given the history of the owners -- but the brisket was dry and chewy. The ribs were dry and clung to the bone. The coleslaw, seducing you with the implication of a vinegar pucker, turned out to be oily and sweet. The macaroni and cheese tasted more of butter and cream than cheese, and it is slightly grainy as a result. The fries and onion rings looked good from a distance; maybe they were the key to happiness?

In any case, putting stock in a barbecue restaurants sides bodes ill. And there is nothing the sauce, sweet as dessert, can save. In the early days, it sure looks like Phil's is, at best, a place to be seen. Those looking for real barbecue are advised to head elsewhere.

Wine of the Moment: Inman Family Pinot Noir Russian River Valley 2007

Economists may be closing in on a consensus that the recession is over, but wine drinkers are not so quick to agree. Consumers are still looking for bargains, first and foremost. This continues to be especially true when it comes to wine. Back in the heady days of the mid-2000s, it was almost impossible to walk down a liquor store's aisle without tripping over the latest cult Cabernet priced at $150 or a new single-vineyard Pinot Noir for $50. Nowadays, wine drinkers demand value for their money in a way they haven't always demanded it from California.

On a recent trip to Sonoma, a shining example of a wine that presents good value and delivers exceptional quality stood out: the Inman Family Pinot Noir Russian River Valley 2007. It has a bright, juicy fruit to it that leaps out of the glass, giving classic Russian River expression of black cherry and spice. It has restrained alcohol (13.7%), excellent balance, and a terrific sense of class. At $30, it's worth seeking out for drinking with summer dinners. It's acidic structure makes it a great pairing for food, and the screw cap closure makes it perfect for picnics.

Full Disclosure: Kathleen Inman, the winemaker, and her family are friends, and this is a winery I've long supported. For full tasting notes on wines from Inman Family from numerous tasters, see here.

The French Laundry: A Photo Essay

A trip to the French Laundry is worthy of something. Each meal there is a treat, taking you to a plane of food ecstasy that is without equal in the United States. It may be redundant to have a second full-scale review in a year, but certainly a photo essay is in order. Bon appetit!

Wine of the Moment: Chateau Ste. Michelle & Dr. Loosen Riesling Eroica 2008

Riesling from the United States tends to be a bit devoid of character. Sure, they can be pleasant, but it is fairly rare to find one possessing meaningful personality. Actually, New York State produces some of the most consistently quaffable Riesling in this country. But in a popular wave of Chardonnay and Merlot drinkers, Riesling largely has been left behind. It's a shame, too. Riesling rocks. Germany produces phenomenal Riesling, in the well-known sweeter style. Alsace continues to churn out drier examples of the grape that are attractive and crisp. And now Austria has thrown its hat into the ring as a producer of less sweet styles of Riesling that receive well-deserved international attention.

If you're from Houston, you need to know Riesling. As Scott Spencer, the kind and knowledgeable owner of the Houston Wine Merchant has correctly proclaimed for years, Riesling is the perfect wine for the weather here. It is refreshing, crisp, delightfully cooling, and pairs marvelously with many foods (including spicy ones, which Houstonians have been known to favor from time to time).

For everyday drinking, you can pick up a bottle of the excellent Chateau Ste. Michelle & Dr. Loosen Riesling Eroica 2008. This wine, made from Washington State's Columbia Valley, is a partnership between the large winery Chateau Ste. Michelle and the famous German producer Dr. Loosen. It is done more in a German style, although on the drier side of the sweetness scale. (That would be kabinett in German wine nomenclature. German wines are labeled by how sweet they are, but that tends to be pretty confusing, so set it aside for later explication.) In plain terms, this is a wine that comes off as a hybrid of the German and Austrian styles. It has the hint of sweetness you find in German wines, but its peachy fruit is carried along by a slightly tart edge and plenty of minerality.

The Eroica Riesling is a wine that is made to slice through the debilitating humidity of Houston summer and transport you to a land of refreshment and enchantment. You might call it the San Diego of fermented grape juice. And at about $15 at your local Costco, you can drink up without a guilty conscience.

In re Hubcap Grill

Before the Burger Court of Houston, Texas

Docket No. 5

In re HUBCAP GRILL

Before GUTTING, BRINKMANN, LAHAD, JJ.

GUTTING, J. Before the Court is the submission of Hubcap Grill ("Hubcap") on a petition of certiorari from Houston's food critics and bloggers. After a thorough review of the record of courts below, we hold that Hubcap serves very good hamburgers that merit a B+ rating.

Background

It is difficult to find a louder chorus among the burger faithful than that of Hubcap Grill proponents these days. Located downtown on Prairie (the second location on South Main having recently closed), this Court determined Hubcap merits review because (1) it has had the support of numerous amici and (2) serves as one of, if not the only, quality burger spot for those who work in downtown Houston. Seating is sparse but generally available. The line often stretches down the block, meaning advance planning may be in order in the event of rain or, of more frequent concern in Houston, summer.



Hubcap's menu consists of a litany of creative burger choices, as well as a handful of chicken sandwiches. French fries and sweet potato fries are the limited side selections. Drinks come in cans or bottles. The Court entertained two Hubcap offerings: (1) the Hubcap Decker, a Big Mac-style double cheeseburger with the patties separated by a piece of toast, Swiss and American cheese, and a mayonnaise-based sauce and (2) a double hamburger.

The Hamburger

Hubcap uses hand-formed beef patties. The menu advertises that they are comprised of 100% chuck. The patties generally are too thin to proceed with anything less than a double burger. The meat is high quality, with a pure beef flavor, although the seasoning has a pronounced influence from thyme -- an influence that too frequently is out of balance with the ground beef. Thyme is an excellent complementary flavor to beef, as a general rule, but it must be used sparingly. Overuse of it is Hubcap's greatest sin. There is no need to mask terrific, freshly ground chuck. Second, this Court has noticed on multiple occasions the tendency for Hubcap burgers to arrive overcooked and slightly dry. There remains good juiciness because of the fat content, but the "ooze" of these burgers is too dependent on mayonnaise and melted cheese in order to reach the level of the truly elite.



The bun at Hubcap is worth note. It is sturdy, with good bite and flavor. It genuinely adds value to the experience, although its size and thickness means a double patty is necessary in order to maintain an appropriate meat-to-bun ratio. The other toppings of the burgers are worth mention for their freshness and quality.

Amici offered a muffaletta burger for the Court's consideration, but we declined to do so, preferring instead to tackle Hubcap Grill on its (not insubstantial) traditional merits.

Extras

Hubcap, to its credit, offers only limited sides. The French fries are forgettable, usually being a bit undercooked and soggy. The sweet potato fries, however, tend to be flavor and tender, a worthy accompaniment to the burgers. The lack of fountain drinks is not a hindrance, although the prevalence of outdoor seating and lack of ice for drinks may present difficulty in summertime.



In the final review, Hubcap uses quality ingredients and, despite eminently correctable flaws, makes flavorful and worthy hamburgers that are welcome on the Houston scene. In particular, this is a strong choice for those who work downtown and would like a sturdy lunch before an afternoon nap. Due to the over-seasoning with thyme and reliance on cheese for oozing juiciness, Hubcap Grill warrants a B+ rating.

IT IS SO ORDERED.

Amuse Bouche: Ode to Spring

Sometimes there isn't much you can say. Sometimes you just have to realize that it's 67 degrees outside, pleasantly sunny, and that there is an invigorating lack of humidity in the air. It won't last long. This is a time to rejoice. It is a time to go outside and drink some Pinot Noir.

In appreciation of Waffle House

The food-erati don't give much attention to the likes of Waffle House. Eh, and maybe they shouldn't. It's a chain. A large one. That automatically gives rise to consistency issues. It's in with the NASCAR crowd, which likely is one of the least interested in foodie things like white truffle season, eating local, slow food, and wines that aren't made out of beer.



But this is no reason to entirely scoff at Waffle House. There are positives: the exceptional people-watching, the myriad 80s and hair band hits on the jukebox, the late hours, and the omelets. Yes, Waffle House is truly a temple for omelets. Even good diners could learn lessons from a well-prepared Waffle House omelet. Heck, even foodie-friendly brunches could learn from the sheer fundamental competence and purity of flavor of Waffle House's delicious ham-and-cheese omelet.

Okay, so perhaps the foodie ship has sailed on Waffle House. After all, Saveur, currently the most excellent of food magazines, published a piece on it last year. Maybe it's cheating to put the eggs in a milkshake blender to make it more fluffy. But when did cheating in food become taboo? What else are other (welcome) intrusions of technology in food, such as the mandolin, sous vide, and Silpat? No, you cannot fault Waffle House's use of the milkshake blender to produce an omelet more fluffy and tender than most experienced and skillful chefs can produce. Of course, there are plenty of opportunities to screw it up: you have to find the appropriate balance of fillings and, most importantly, you can't overcook it (though the blended eggs are more forgiving than hand-whisked, it seems).



A well-cooked Waffle House omelet is a thing of beauty. Tender, cloud-like eggs encasing ham and oozing with cheese. It is simple. And few things are more delicious than simplicity itself. So let us celebrate Waffle House for what it does so well. Those soggy, inconsistent waffles are another story . . .

The misconception of the "dry" wine

This may sound like an unfair, snobbish criticism of less-experienced wine drinkers, but frequently the casual drinker, when asking for a recommendation, will emphasize, "I like dry wines." Okay. So you like regular table wine. "No, I want it dry." Houston, we have a semantics problem.

Most people, when they say they like dry wines, are not trying to distinguish between table wines (which are usually dry) and dessert wines (which are usually sweet). They also usually are not talking about Riesling or Muscadet or other off-dry wines, since they are white wines, and most people today (for no good reason) like to say they only drink red wine. No matter. The answer is pretty simple.

Table wine -- what you have in your hand as you read this blog, one hopes -- is dry. That is to say, the fermentation process of turning sugar into alcohol completed leaving no residual sugar. This ought to prevent the wine from tasting cloying or sweet, as well as (for red wines) allow the tannins to flex their muscle. And it is the tannins in red wine that most people think of when they say, "I like dry wines." Tannins are found in oak and the seeds, skins, and stems of grapes. They leave your mouth feeling dried out or, if the wine is exceptionally tannic, make your mouth pucker.

There are folks who have said they enjoy dry wines who don't like a particular Pinot Noir they taste. They call it "sweet." No! It is fermented dry! The lab results show there is no residual sugar! But this is not what they mean. Often, experience demonstrates, those who claim an affinity for dry wines like big, robust red wines such as Cabernet Sauvignon, Malbec, and Zinfandel -- even the dreaded Merlot (with certain exceptions). These are all wines generally higher in tannins than, for example, Pinot Noir or Gamay -- or, of course, white wines.

This is not to say that a bone dry wine, with no residual sugar, can't taste sweet. It happens all the time, particularly given the modern viticultural trend that strives for higher degrees of ripeness in grapes. How do you measure a grape's ripeness? By Brix, that is, the amount of sugar in it.

To create wine, as you know, a winemaker needs to convert that sugar into alcohol by relying on yeast during the fermentation process. Picking grapes that contain more sugar means that, potentially, there will be more alcohol in the finished wine. But the winemaker may not want to do that. In today's world, the winemaker has options: (1) let the wine complete fermentation and slap the 18% alcohol on the label; (2) recognize the issue before the grapes begin fermenting and water it back (that is, add water to reduce the level of potential alcohol); (3) let the wine complete fermentation and send it to a lab to remove alcohol in a spinning cone (yes, this happens); or (4) leave some of that residual sugar in the finished wine, not allowing the wine to ferment until it is completely dry.

In any of the above scenarios, with riper grapes being used to make the wine, the fruit profile tends to taste a bit sweeter than in wines picked at lower sugar levels. This isn't a bad thing. It's a value judgment about what sort of flavors you like in wine. And even riper grapes don't taste that sweet when they are well-balanced with acidity and tannins.

In short, don't worry about all this technical stuff. As a wine drinker -- and being a wine drinker is the most important thing -- all you have to concern yourself with is whether you like the wine. If you do? Drink it. If you decide you really like it? Drink some more. If you don't like it? Drink something else.