When I first moved to Richmond, I was just out of college and pretty much flying solo, enjoying a break from the high stakes of social cliques. It was just me, some part time jobs, and spaghetti with Prego sauce. It didn’t take long to realize that something was missing. That something was wine.

It was 1998 and I had just moved into my first (and only, to this day) one bedroom apartment. Located on East Leigh Street, it overlooked a funeral home, close enough to Eggleston’s Deli to feel the vapors of their fried fish operation coating my stoop and balcony. Since the rental movies at Video Fan were my first friends in town, I also found myself browsing in Strawberry Street Vinyards and Prices Market. One of them was a dizzying treasure hunt where I frequently found $5 magnums of ten year old wine. The other was a regular wine shop with more rational sounding sales prices. This was fun for me, because I’d been listening to a show on NPR about wine shopping.

Love at first Taste

One day, the clerk at Strawberry Street Vineyards was especially effusive about one of his $6.99 bottles, saying that Spain is making especially good wine these days and that this bottle tasted like a $20 bottle to him. I took one home and I was floored by the impactful flavors that came in every glass. The wine was 1996 Codice from Rioja (say, coh-dee-chay). It was big on oak and berries, spice, and maybe earthiness. I couldn’t believe how enjoyable my pasta and Prego sauce became with a bottle of this (hey, I didn’t care about food so much then).

I went back to Strawberry Street Vinyards and bought a case of Codice for $75 (they still offer that sale price on select wines to this day). A bachelor with a case of seductive wine, I lived high on the hog for a good long while. It was all I ever wanted in a wine. It was my first case of wine (and I haven’t purchased a full case of anything else since). When I ran out, I went back for another case, but they were out and couldn’t get more… I had no plan B. I left that wine shop and almost never went back in. I didn’t want any other wine. I probably got a few more bottles of kicked around $3 oddities at Prices Market, but those experiments weren’t successful like the Codice. Soon enough, I stopped pursuing wine all together. Over time, wine was not for me anymore. I saw wine drinking as just another activity for Richmonders to do with their pinkies and their noses in the air, pretending they weren’t complicit in the city’s bitter, centuries-old, segregation along race and class lines. Yes. My interest definitely went in other directions and it’s taken a while to reel myself back in (only slightly, tho). We’ll set those chapters aside for another time.

Rioja Throwdown

Fast forward twelve years. I’ve decided to get back into wine, this time with an open mind, but an eye for the bargains, as per usual. I’ve been burning through bottles, both good and bad. Even though I try to keep my wine buying on the frugal side of the bargain wine sections, but it’s still expensive buying cheap stuff, if you buy a whole lot of it. In conversation, people ask me what I like and my answer is usually “Spanish Rioja.” To be honest, I’m still figuring out what I like. And my only real experience with Rioja was the Codice. To be honest, all I know is that Spanish wines include a lot of bargains, and I definitely like that.

When Paul and Laura came over on Monday night, I’d made them a white bean soup with choices of pancetta or soy chorizo toppings. I lined up some wines that were handy. Unsure how long they had to stay, I asked the guests to pick a wine to open. Paul chose two, a challenge to my cheapskate tendencies. Considering how successful our previous wine comparison went, two wines was a logical choice, reinforced by the fact that the two Paul chose were both Riojas.

Faustino VII Rioja Temperanillo 2007:
Last week, during my first venture into a Total Wine (ever!), I talked to a clerk about Rioja wines. A customer leaned in and pointed out her favorite, noting it was only $10. Little did she know that she was talking about the upper end of my per bottle spending limit. However, the serendipity of a chance encounter made me curious to see what she was talking about. Also, a Rioja recommendation paid off so long ago. We poured this first and everyone took note of the smokiness wafting up from the glass. I could taste that as soon as it was in my mouth. It had a light body to it but the flavors were either flat or hidden. It went down like water and didn’t leave any dry taste on the finish. in short, I felt like it left me hanging. Where was the beef that aroma alluded to?

Arbanta Rioja Temperanillo 2008:
I got this one at River City Cellars for $13. That’s high for me, but it was part of a gift package for Karen (who agreed to donate it to the comparison on this night) and I think it’s organic (label says “ecolojica.”) This one was much fuller bodied with an immediate fruit juice flavor. It tasted much bigger than the Faustino and that flavor stayed with most of us after swallowing. Nice. Not revelatory, but worth drinking, for sure. And, the label just looked like a smaller enterprise made it. The Faustino was ornate and kinda cheesy.

The Plot Twist:
Most preferred the Arbanta for the fullness of the flavors it delivered. Although the Faustino was disappointing, I felt like it at least had a unique scent, whereas the Arbanta wasn’t memorable for me. Half of each bottle was left, so we went back to tasting whichever each of us was attracted to. At this point they’d been open for an hour. I poured some Faustino in my glass and could hardly get my nose near it without reacting. Whoa! This one is in full bloom. How did it do that? The smokiness started resembling mesquite chips and a sweet bbq plum sauce. The flavor was, again, very savory food-like and then followed by sweet fruit. I felt like a kid in Willy Wonka’s factory chewing a gum that was taking me through a four course meal (slight exaggeration).

After retasting the Arbanta, we concluded that it wasn’t going to be opening up like the Faustino. But, it remained solid, if unremarkable. Everyone had a go at it and then they each changed their votes for the Faustino. This is funny. The handful of reviews for each on CellarTracker. com panned the Faustino and gave a Arbanta a higher score. With this comparison, I’ve decided to try more Spanish wine. The 2005 LAN Rioja is one I’d really like to try, since it was given Wine of the Year status in the Wine Trials book. I’ve also just ordered a couple bottles of Vega Escal Priorat.

Oh, and about the Codice, my long lost love. I found it again. It’s sitting at the bottom of a display rack at Ellwoods, priced at $9.99 (only the label is arty and shit). I took one home and prepared to be reunited… but, it wasn’t magic. It only vaguely resembled my case from Strawberry Street 12 years before, and only when I squinted real hard.

Que sera, sera.

In my quest for decent cheap wine, I found myself examining the ON SALE tags among the extensive wine selection at Kroger.  At the time, all of the Beringer Founders Estate bottles were marked down from $13 to $8.*  For me, the perception of a deep discount makes me salivate and then put things into my cart indiscriminately.  It’s an affliction, but I’m big enough to admit it.  Moving on…

I’d heard years ago that while Beringer may not offer transcendent wine regardless of the price point, almost all of their wines are competently made and worth drinking, even the budget stuff. So, it was a no brainer for me to reach for the 2007 merlot for $7.99.  What’s that you ask? How can I bare to drink a merlot? Well, I’m not really sure, because I’m still learning about the various varietals.  However, I reach for it now because Miles Raymond, in that hilarious movie, Sideways, told me not to tolerate merlot in my mouth or even in my presence.  And I’m not the only one.  After years of wannabe wine snobs taking the Sideways spoof on merlot very literally, the easy to grow and easy to drink grape is just staring to come out of the internment camps that Hollywood constructed.  In short, I reach for merlot to experience that noxious swill that made Miles’ skin crawl.  Maybe I’ll become that vehement as well.  What fun.

On the flip side, Miles waxed poetic about pinot noir in Sideways as though every sip of the stuff were supremely contemplative.  It even helped him get the girl  Who wouldn’t want to fall under the spell of a wine the way he did? So, I also reached for the pinot with this aspirational mental image motivating my tastebuds.  On this trip to Kroger, I wanted to take home something tasty while benefiting from their high-volume low price promotional offers.  The Beringers seemed to fit the bill and the sighting of both a merlot and a pinot noir by the same vinyard, same vintage, and same price seemed like the perfect alignment of variables.  What better circumstance to put Miles on trial and test a merlot versus a pinot?  And so it begins…

Jack: If they want to drink Merlot, we’re drinking Merlot.
Miles: No, if anyone orders Merlot, I’m leaving. I am NOT drinking any fucking Merlot!

For the wine comparison night, I invited a new friend and big time appreciator of cheap wines.  (more…)

As I delve deeper into my wine curiosity, I’ve discovered that the more the bottle costs, the more I tend to like it. It’s just an early observation (sure to be debunked), and I won’t let it lure me into splurging.  That’s when I’ll jump ship from the wine-buying altogether.   However, that rule of thumb has really been guiding my buying from the start: Look for expensive wine offered at a discount.  The price breaks can come from a volume seller like Kroger, or getting 10% off for buying six or more at World Market , or taking advantage of a local shop’s bulk buy offer like Strawberry Street Vineyards or Once Upon a Vine’s bargain basement sections.  And then there’s Crazy Gary, the bombastic online powerhouse of wine wheeling and dealing.  His new daily deal at CinderellaWine.com is delivering BIG flavors at reduced prices.  The few bottles I’ve purchased did not disappoint. We’ll hear from Gary Vaynerchuk, himself, in a moment.

These wine buying scenarios have been a real adventure for me.  And clearly, the fever is starting to take hold, because I don’t feel right if I don’t open a new bottle each night.  It’s like I’m missing an episode of Dexter or True Blood, depriving myself of delicious red red kroovy.  But I have to admit that my limited framework for analyzing/appreciating wine sometimes gives me the feeling that even the well-chosen cheap stuff often tastes of sameness – a good same, but unspectacular.  I’m sure that will change as I figure out how to buy a wide variety and keep it interesting.  Regardless, I’m starting to feel like Morgan Spurlock, halfway into his 30 days of McDonalds meals.  Ugh, not the same fast-food version of wine again!  But, I soldier on.

If you’ve heard of Gary Vaynerchuk, you probably know that he’s trying to “change the wine world.” (more…)

They say that the average human uses less than 10% of his or her brain-power. There is a similar saying that if you’re not drinking a variety of wines, you’re only using 10% of your palate.* Well, I’m content giving 90% of my brain a rest (as most of my readers have observed), but I really wanna mobilize and stimulate as many of my taste buds as possible. If wine can do that, count me in.  Plus, a lot of my fellow food bloggers are into wine, and I’d like to be able to hold my own in a conversation when the topic comes up. Hopefully, they’ll chime in here and contribute to my education.  

But, wait. There’s a catch. Wine is expensive. It’s a luxury of the bourgeois class. Or at least, that’s how it often appears when you add up all of the etiquette, paraphernalia, and affectations that go along with wine drinking. It seems like the rigmarole pursuit of flavor is such a bizarre contortion to put yourself through and it can take you into really irrational spending. Then there’s my real pet peeve: doubling the price of a meal just for a beverage. Wine drinking, as a hobby, has a lot of baggage to overcome if I’m going to get really involved in it. The truth is, I’ll willingly spend entirely too long with my nose in a glass, swirl it around vigorously, make aerating bubble sounds in my mouth, and then search for flavors and words to describe them, and I’ll love every minute of it all while enduring my wife’s sighs and eye-rolls. It’s mostly tongue in check for me, since I don’t really know what I’m doing. I just want to feel like I’m enjoying aristocratic flavors at proletarian prices. Is that too much to ask?

How I shop: In my heart of hearts, I want to spend every penny with my locally owned wine shops. (more…)