Wine Terms: "Fiasco"

Most of us will recognize Lady & the Tramp.
Many of us will recognize the wine bottle, serving as a candle-holder in the foreground, as Chianti.
For ages, these bottles – rotund, wrapped in a wicker basket – were familiar to consumers. Such a distinctive bottle can be a fabulous marketing device. Fabulous that is, until quality slips and/or the expanding diversity of the market shows your wines as dilute plonk. At this point the distinctive bottle was seen as an albatross, not an asset... and was abandoned.
Too bad.
I generally dislike non-standard bottles (to take just one reason: they are a nuisance to stack in the cellar), but this one carried such an amusing bit of wine etymology in its name... the Fiasco.
The Italian word “fiasco” has its origin in Medieval Latin. Here it meant a flask, or a small container for holding wine. Later (as Latin became Italian, and after glass bottles were invented), “fiasco” became the Italian term referring to (any) bottle.
How “fiasco” came to also mean mishap or failure is lost to history.
There are, however, some delightful theories.
The Fiasco, had a rounded base. The resulting instability was one reason for its wicker casing. A tippy bottle (of red wine no less) is a rather obvious route to mishap.
Glassblowers may have been in the habit of salvaging flubbed projects to make (everyday) bottles. Thus “failure” links itself to “bottle”.
In one way or another, by the 19th century the word “fiasco” took on a second meaning. Its seen first around the Italian theatre. “Far fiasco” (literally, make a bottle) meant to suffer to flop or make an embarrassing mistake on stage. From there, slang spread itself to wider usage... and by the mid 19th century, into English.

We may bemoan the loss of such a distinctive bottle, with an amusing name.
We may take away a lesson about the danger of standing out from the crowd.
We may decide its been too long since we saw Lady & the Tramp.

Chardonnay

I must admit to some former snobbery.
I used to consider white wines to be simple fare for those not ready for the seriousness of red wine. Worse: within that erroneous (but common) generalization, I considered Chardonnay to be nothing but an ocean of dull plonk chosen by simplistic palates on (varietal) name recognition alone.
I apologize – to you, and to myself – for my former attitude.

Yes, there is an ocean of Chardonnay... and lots of it is dull plonk. And while that is also true of every wine “type”, it quite certainly particularly true of Chardonnay.
Why?
First: In the spectrum of grape varieties, Chardonnay is easy to grow. It is relatively disease resistant. It will grow in the widest range of climates. Finally, (unrestrained) Chardonnay vines will give high yields. All this is no insult to the Burgundian artisan... but it is all very attractive to producers looking to churn out vast quantizes of plonk.
Second: name recognition (varietal, brand, etc) tends to be good for (mass-market) sales and bad for quality. An awful lot of Chardonnay has been purchased by customers – confronted with poorly designed wine lists and retail stores – grabbing hold of something familiar.


There’s an irony in treating Chardonnay as a sort of brand... its the chameleon of the vine. While there is a familiar California/Australian model, Chardonnay thrives in a wide range of climates, each producing different fruit character. Further, Chardonnay is sometimes called “the winemaker’s grape” for taking kindly to a wide range of manipulations in the winery.
Cool Climate – Warm Climate

As any grape ripens, it gains sugar (which will be turned into alcohol) and looses acidity. This vineyard balancing act has a range of solutions.
Grown in a cool climate (northern Burgundy, Ontario), Chardonnay tends to be high in acidity (crisp, tart) and fairly low in alcohol. A warm climate (Australia, much of California) produces Chardonnay low in acidity (soft, plump) and high in alcohol.
The flavour characteristics of a grape is effected by the amount of warmth the vine enjoys, and shifts as the fruit ripens. Cool climate Chardonnay tends towards apple, pear and lemons; warm climate Chardonnay reaches into tropical flavours like mango, banana and fig.
Body (mouth feel, or weight) is the result of a wine’s alcohol, and compounds (glycerines, for example) which develop in the later stages of ripening. It follows then: cool climate Chardonnay will tend to be lighter bodied than ones produced in a warm climate with the luxury of a prolonged ripening process (“hang time”).



Malolactic Fermentation

Things aren’t too complicated yet... but now the grapes are brought out of the vineyard and into the winery’s cellar.
Malolactic fermentation is a process by which an infant wine’s malic acid (think tart green apples) is converted into softer lactic acid (think of yogurt’s tang).
Modern winemakers are able to control this process... and muddle up our simple climatic model. In making a cool climate Chardonnay, a winemaker (let’s call him Joe) may avoid “malo”. This would emphasize the crisp, tart aspects the wine. On the other hand, Joe could put the wine through malo and produce something softer and plumper.
As a byproduct, malolactic fermentation produces diacetyl. This compound – more familiar as the key aromatic component of butter – can radically alter the character of the wine. It can slather (not surprisingly) a creamy, buttery layer onto a wine’s fruit aromas and flavour profiles.
Now Joe can choose to produce a crisp, tart Chardonnay... or one softer, with its flavours shifted towards tangy lemon cream.


Oaked – Unoaked

Wine, of course, needs a vessel.
The material in which wine is fermented, and then aged, will have a major influence on what ends up in our glass. Chardonnay is made in either stainless steel or oak.
Let’s start with an oaked version.
First, wood will impart various chemicals, many of them flavorful, to the wine. The intensity of these flavours will vary according to the age of the oak (after a few years, an oak barrel will have become inert). The flavours will also vary according to the type of oak used (American vs French, sawn vs split), and the level of “toast” left by the cooper who used heat to bend the staves into a barrel. Common aroma and flavour characteristics here: tea leaves, incense, coconut, vanilla.
Second, wooden barrels are (slightly) permeable. Moisture slowly escapes through evaporation, concentrating its contents. Not being impervious in the other direction either, the wine is very slowly oxidized. Oxygen (if you’ve ever tasted wine left open too long, you know) is the enemy of wine. A very little oxidation, however, adds appealing nutty, butterscotch flavours.



Clones

Without getting into too much biology (which will quickly confuse me, and then you)...
A grape variety (i.e. Chardonnay) is not unlike a dog breed... it is a particular version of the species (for our purposes: vitis vinifera). Each vine, propagated by taking a cutting from an existing vine, is a genetic copy. This duplication, however, is not quite perfect. A few of these imperfections (mutations) will happen to be desirable trait. If noticed by the wine grower, cuttings may be taken to propagate a new sub-variety or “clone”.
Any major international grape variety (which certainly includes Chardonnay) will have a large number of recognized clones. Clonal selection most often a matter of matching a vineyard (climate, soil), and desired yields to a clone with suitable characteristics. For all but the severely geeky wine-drinker, this is pretty obscure stuff best left to an occasional winery tour. However, some clones produce wines with a distinct flavour.
Of all this Chardonnay happens to provide an excellent example:
Keep an eye out, and you’ll likely come across wines labeled “Chardonnay Musque”.
Musque (also known as clone#809) is a distinctively aromatic clone of Chardonnay. Recalling Muscat, the (unrelated) variety from which this clone takes its name, these wines can be generously endowed with grapey and floral scents.


Some Chardonnay to try:

If you’d like to explore, here is a list of some widely ranging wines which are currently available in Ontario.


Cave Spring Chardonnay Reserve. (Ontario) Cool climate, moderately oaked but malolatic fermentation suppressed. ($20)


Lakeview Cellars. (Ontario) Chardonnay Reserve (03). Cool climate, outrageously oaky. (available at the winery $30)


Yes, white Burgundy is not cheap.
Ripe and oaky: a Cote d’Or Chardonnay... Meursault-Charmes (1er Cru) 2004 by Domaine Latour-Giraud. ($65)
--or--
Crisp and unoaked: a Chablis... Vau de Vey (1er Cru) 2004 by Chateau de Maligny. ($32)

Three examples of warm climate ripeness:
“Toasted Head” Chardonnay. R.H.Phillips, California. ($20)
Neil Ellis Chardonnay. 2004 South Africa ($19)
“Leconfield Chardonnay” 2003 Richard Hamilton. Australia ($21)

Finally two unusual diversions:
Peller Estates. Chardonnay Icewine. Very unusual... but, frankly, this was so sweet (and lacking acidity) that it made me think of letting a meringue melt on my tongue. Still, very interesting. (winery $70/375ml)

Peninsula Ridge. Ratafia. Something way off in left field... unfermented Chardonnay juice, fortified with local plum brandy. Fantastic. (winery $30/500ml)

Today... I Blog

It has been my habit to use this space to hold out pieces of wine-writing... occasionally in complete form, more often in the midst of revision, extension and rewriting. I have, perhaps, absconded the opportunity offered by blogger.com to publish something other than what has come to be defined as “a blog”.
(Honestly, this doesn’t trouble me in the least... but I have occasionally cursed the format’s penchant for publishing “posts” in reverse order – or in my case, multi-part essays are published upside down.)
Bloggers, it seems, tell you what happened during their day. They gibber about what has delighted, and jabber about what has annoyed.
Well... today I blog.

I’ve been busy promoting a guided winetasting evening which I’m hosting next month. (see kwtastings.com)
This afternoon, I ran into an irritating snag (it is, I keep telling myself also amusingly bizarre).
My aim was to have this winetasting listed in the local newspaper’s “Calendar of Events”. I learned that they sort their listings into two subgroups: Community Events (which must be non-profit, or a charity benefit), and Entertainment Events. The employee at the other end of the phone told me that a winetasting does not qualify as “entertainment” and is, therefore, not eligible to be listed at all.
What followed was not a moment of great articulate grace. Thankfully I wasn’t rude either (I don’t think)..
Off the phone, I did follow up with an email in which I was able to gather up some of the thoughts. We’ll see where it goes from there.

Today is my day off.
Over my “weekend” (I work Saturdays and Sundays, so my weekend is midweek), I’ve been enjoying a bottle of Argentine Malbec.
Yesterday’s note read:
Bodegas Cavas Weinert. Malbec (99).
Strong, oxblood ruby colour (very slightly ruddy). Big nose of tart red berries... with some earthy spice. Palate is surprisingly elegant and restrained for a Malbec. Modest fruit, medium bodied. Very dry and oaky. Long clove-spice finish. Very Nice.
Today I’d add that time has improved this wine. Plump red-plum has developed... about equal to the oak which yesterday was dominant. Very Nice+

Today I also tried to book tickets to a “tutoured” winetasting in Toronto. Despite being six weeks away, it was sold out. So were the 3-4 other tastings which I also checked on.
Other than my own bad fortune, this is terrific.
Lots and lots of people are interested in learning more about wine. Lots of those people choose to learn by attending guided/tutoured winetastings (not to mention the entertainment value of such an event... see above).
What has me irked?
(1)The LCBO recently opened a new enormous store in uptown Waterloo. It is apparently their 3rd largest (after the flagship stores in Toronto and Ottawa). They did not include a classroom for tutored tastings.
(2)Remember the guided winetasting which I am planning to host? Of course, it requires a permit from the AGCO (Alcohol and Gaming Commission of Ontario). Since my event will not have alcohol for sale (guests can not buy a glass or bottle of wine), I applied for a “No Sale permit” ($25). But (the AGCO says), your guests are paying to attend and are, therefore, indirectly paying for the alcohol to be consumed. Now I find myself paying for a “Sale permit” $75.
That seems like an outrageous amount of money.
The tasting is taking place in a facility which already pays for a liquor licence. The special permit is only required because I want to bring in my own choice of wines.
Maybe I should run a bar instead. I would require the exact same permit.

Fergusson (woof) is happily chewing a rawhide bone.

Today’s website of the day is http://geostationarybananaovertexas.com/

Today’s brief, amusing but pointless, diversion is “My Pug Immitates the Blender” http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9l19D2sIHI

And now....
I’m going to shut up.

Building an (imaginary) Art Gallery (Parts 5&6)

What more sensible place for art couldthere be than a wine's label? The most famous example is Chateau Mouton-Rothschild. For each vintage since 1945, an artist has been commissioned create a new artwork to grace the wine's label.Over those years, participating artists have included: Salvador Dali (58), Miro (69), Chagall (70), Picasso (73), Motherwell (78), Warhol (75)... and so on.Just above are two examples that I would choose to exhibit.First, the Keith Haring label (88). Typical Haring: playful and bold lines, bold colour.Second, the 1993 label as it appeared in the US market. The actual label featured a sketch by Balthus... but its subject (a nude, apparently pre-pubesent girl) offended American censors.Yes, a wine label can sport a fine painting (or the lack thereof)... but the entire label-design can be a work of art. On the right is the label for Boony Doon Vineyards' Old Vines Zinfandel - "Cardinal Zin". The label is pure Ralph Steadman: frantic, guestural and amusing.So are art-displaying wine labels a attention getting gimmick? (Would that be so wrong?)Is Mouton-Rothschild taking an opportunity to pay tribute to visual artists by granting them prestigious commissions?Does Ralph Steadman's painting contribute something to, or help us to appreciate BonnyDoon's (irreverently zany) style?Can labels be a wordless dialogue between artists (winemaker and painter)?

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And what about winery architecture?... Great efforts are put to make many winery buildings (and not just the grand "Chateaux" of Bordeaux) into stunning works of art in and of themselves.Some some perch over a dramatic view of the vineyards (FlatRock Cellars, Niagara)... some echo local tradition (Bodegas Catena Zapata's temple-like buildings in Mendoza, Argentina)... some turn the functionality of gravity-flow design (reducing or eliminating the need to pump the grape must and/or wine) into extravegantly beautiful ultra-modern complexes (Stratus, Niagara)... or this one (pictured- above right), looking like a drunken Mondrian, which catches and amuses the eye.In part, these architectural efforts are often intended to atract tourists. They can also enrich a tourist's visit by making them feel welcomed and surrounding them with beauty.Of course, they are also intended to get the winery as much exposure in the glossy wine magazines as possible.What is the happiest balance between beauty and attention-seeking?Take a careful look through your local wine-retailer's shelves. How many wines are in non-standard bottles? Can an unusual (and possibly beautiful) bottle add something to the experience of wine, or to its impact as when given as a gift? Do you feel annoyed that the price of wines is inflated by using unusual bottles?Take a look at your favourite stemware. How does a wine glass' form add to your enjoyment of a wine? Does the light pour through it in a pleasing way? Do its fine, thin lines feel pleasant against your lips and tongue? (No, I'm not suggesting that you kiss your favourite building... but rather that pouring wine into a fine glass is like welcoming visitors into a beautiful winery).

Building an (imaginary) Art Gallery --Parts 1-4

What is a wine-lover to do when hung-over? How about a visit to an art gallery?...
In my mind, I have been building a gallery displaying various pieces of wine-related art. Over the next while, my blogging self will be exploring that gallery, room by room.
The most obvious place to start in with still life painting. In fact, still life is such an obvious way for wine to make its way onto a canvas that it is rather ubiquitous. This room could easily be overwhelmed, except that -- generally bored by the genre -- I would only choose a few examples.
Just above is "Still Life with Bottle of Wine, Two Glasses, and Plate with Bread and Cheese". I find this painting interesting, not beautiful. Dated to 1886, it came from the collection of Theo Van Gogh (yes, brother of Vincent). It was attributed to Vincent Van Gogh, but has since been dismissed. It doesn't really fit stylistically with any of Van Gogh's other work. Also, x-ray testing revealed a second non-Van Gogh-like painting to be hidden underneath. Today, it is believed that "Still Life with Bottle..." was probably painted by an unknown visiting friend of Theo Van Gogh.
What does authorship mean to a painting?
If a great wine-maker made a medicocre wine, would it be more desirable than any other?

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I am, I admit, quick to be bored by classically realistic Still Life paintings. In the 20th century, however, Cubism spun the sleepy genre.Just above is Picasso's "Wine Bottle and Two Glasses on a Table" (1912)Like painters of traditions before them, the Cubists painted what they saw... but they rebelled against the conventional manners of representing the structure of what they saw.
Are modernists (aging Barolo in barriques, for example) a threat to their regional wine heritage?
Or are they keeping European winemaking alive by rebelling against convention?

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As long as we have had wine we have needed somewhere to keep it...These days, plenty of wine is sold in eye catching bottles... Curvy shapes, encrusted with faux-dust, a cat with a cork in the top of its head...I must admit that -- as someone who stacks their wines in his cellar -- I wish every wine was available in a standard, bordeaux-style (straight sided) bottles.I'm more than happy to enjoy a beautifully crafted decanter... (though I have yet to acquire one fancier than a simple carafe)..This photo is of a ceramic wine vessel from Iran. Date? circa 1000-800 B.C. In my mind, its about to come to life in an NFB claymation short film.Why do I love the whimsy of this jug?... but then turn up my nose at Merlot-in-a-Cat?

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Throughout its history, artists have paid (or often hired to pay) various forms of tribute..Many of our ancestors had a god of wine, and they left us many works paying tribute to this specialized divinity.This painting of Bacchus (the Roman god of wine) was painted by Caravaggio in about 1596.In detail this "tribute" is actually less than reverant. If you could examine it from up close, you might notice Bacchus' dirty fingernails. Caravaggio, who was generally an utterly offensive personality, was apparently not afraid of offending the vanity of this god.At first blush flattering, but soon showing flaws.... I've found a few wines (and come to think of it, alcohol itself) to be likewise.