Put a Cork in it

From the sun-drenched streets of Bath comes a blog post so deep, yet so subtle, carrying hints of blackcurrant and delicate spice, and providing succulent accompaniment to lean, red meat. It face-plants on the palette with an overwhelming bouquet of citrus and honey, and a warming after-taste that hints sweetly at centuries of tradition and oak-barrel aging. Perfect for a quiet, candle-lit dinner or a night out on the town, this blog post is sure to please.

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I learned so many cool facts about the Bordeaux wine-making process while I was in France, that I have decided to dedicate a separate blog post (almost) purely to the enlightenment of all you novices. You can thank me later.

Overview

The Bordeaux wine region is made up of 5 geographic sub-regions: Medoc, Graves/Sauternes, Entre-Deux-Mers, St. Emilion/Pomerol, and Bourg/Blaye.



Within these 5 sub-regions, 57 different "appellations," or types of wine are produced. Using the metaphor of the United States once again, let us say that a sub-region is like a region of the United States (like the Northeast, or Mid-Atlantic), and that each appellation is like a state within that region. The only difference is that certain broader appellations, like "Bordeaux Superieur," can be grown in more than one region.

Confused yet? No worries, I'll explain further. The appellation system was put in place to ensure quality control. As you may know, Bordeaux wine producers are a pretty snooty and elitist group of people, and they got a bit peeved when a bunch of hillbillies from California and Australia started putting the name "Bordeaux" on their wines, just because it was red and tasted decent. For the foreigners, it was an excuse to raise prices, but for the French, it was an insult to a long-standing tradition of excellence. And so, they created the Institut National des Appellations d'Origine (INAO) to control wine production and naming. Only wines produced within a certain distance of the Gironde estuary can call themselves "Bordeaux wines," which are then further classified based on their specific appellation. This is what separates a "Graves" from a "Sauternes" from a "Cadillac."

There are many different types of soil and climates throughout the Bordeaux region. "Why?" you may ask...because the whole place used to be under the Atlantic. When the world warmed after one of those ancient Ice-Age things, the ocean receded and left a sandy, gravelly Bordeaux region high and dry and primed for wine. Depending on how sandy or rich, or acidic the soil is, and depending on the climate (relative humidity, average dew point, and other topographically-related variants), each tiny region is given its appellation. Hopefully that makes a bit of sense.

Beyond each individual appellation, the singular unit of wine production is the Chateau, or vineyard. Each Chateau has its own vines and its own facilities to extract, age, and mix the grape juice, and most Bordeaux wines are bottled on site. Before bottling, professional tasters (called "cellar masters") go through the basic grape juices and rate them for their taste. Different types of wine call for different varieties of grapes (e.g. Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Malbec, Cabernet Franc, etc.). They then decide what will be added to the grape juice to best take advantage of its natural tastes. These additives produce the subtle textures and undertones that make each vintage unique. Some popular additions to the grape juice are blackcurrant, cherry, plum, citrus, flowers, caramel, chocolate, and almost anything else you can think of. It's always a challenge to identify all of the tastes that are in each bottle. When you look at a bottle of wine, the label will normally read as follows: Chateau Name, Variety (Cab Sauv, Merlot, etc.), Control/Quality Designation (Where it was made), Vintage (year), Maker, and then alcohol content falls somewhere at the bottom.

When you are about to taste a fine wine, there is a procedure that you must follow. First, you look at the color. Because it's pretty. Then you get down to business. You raise the glass to your nose (I'm really good at this part) and sample the first bouquet. This will give you the dominant flavor of the wine. Next, you must swirl the wine in the glass, which oxidizes the liquid and releases some of the more subtle aromas. This smell is called the "second nose." After the second nose, you may take a sip, allowing the wine to wash over your tongue for a moment. At a professional wine tasting, you would be compelled to spit the wine out at this point, but that's really not any fun.

Fun Facts:

-Bordeaux is divided into the right bank and the left bank by the river Gironde. On the left bank the soil is more sandy, and more Cabernet Sauvignon grapes are grown, producing drier, more tannic wines. On the right bank, the soil is more clay-based, which allows for Merlot grapes to be grown and mellower, sweeter wines to be produced.

-Bordeaux experiences both morning and evening mists due to a small, very cold river that runs through the region, called La Ciron. This is good for the grapes because irrigation is not permitted.

-Grapes are normally harvested gradually, rather than all at once. This is because a small fungus referred to as "the noble rot" eats away at the grapes and causes them to ferment a bit on the vine. The longer the grapes stay on the vine, the sweeter they become and the more alcohol they will contribute to the wine.

-White wine is best served between 8-10 degrees Celsius.

-Some Chateaux have two labels: one fancy, pricier label, and one more-affordable label.

-Growing grass, and even rose bushes, between the rows of grape vines has become common practice because the competing roots cause the grapes to shoot their own roots deeper into the soil, which allows them to get at water supplies further beneath the surface.

-People don't squish grapes with their feet in France. It's just not done.

I'm sure that there's some things that I've missed or explained inadequately, so if anyone has any questions, feel free to shoot me an email. I will conclude this blog post with a piece of flash fiction, which is basically a really really short story. I've been trying the genre out in my fiction class and I think it's kind of neat to play around with. If anyone is curious about flash fiction, here's the wikipedia page: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Flash_fiction
You don't even have to look it up yourself.

This piece is called The Last Draw. Enjoy!

Buster placed the harmonica to his mouth and pulled air through it, an inverse sigh. As the four-five draw rose above the old Northwest Rail Line, he sucked harder, bending it down a mournful half-step. The sound ran out and was not echoed. Harp players call it “the train,” but there would be no more trains running on the Northwest line, no more trains leaving town—Buster had missed the last one by five minutes. When he had peered after the disappearing trail of smoke that morning, he saw the caboose disappearing around the bend with a spot of yellow on the back that he could only imagine was his wife in her faded sun dress. Defeated, he turned and dragged his feet in the opposite direction; a dearly-paid-for pack of smokes formed a lump in his jacket pocket.

Les Vacances

Bonjour (and sorry for the long silent spell)!

The time has come for me to briefly recount some of my adventures in France. Now, bear in mind that A LOT happened over my 7 day vacation to the mainland, so I'm not going to get to every last detail, but I'll give you a day-by-day breakdown and fill in what I deem to be the highlights. Please bear with the crazy picture layout. There's really nothing I could do to make them any more organized, but I think they're pretty self-explanatory if you read along.

Day 1:



Dan and I woke up around 5:30 a.m. and we headed down to the Bath train station to catch the train to London. We got there only to be informed that a bus would take us two towns over to a different train station because there was construction work on the railway at that time. We freaked out. Thankfully, the bus travel was taken into account in the schedule and we made it to London with enough time to sprint off and meet the airport shuttle. Once at Stanstead airport, my toothpaste was promptly confiscated because it was apparently suspicious-looking. I may or may not have forgotten to leave my novelty turban toothpaste topper at home. Dan's toothpaste was more innocent-looking than mine. We boarded our plane, took a 2-hour flight, and landed in Lourdes early in the afternoon. After walking the 9 miles from the airport to our hotel, we managed to find one of the only restaurants in town that was actually open for dinner. The place seemed deserted, and we didn't know whether it was always like that, or if it was just because of the fact that it was Sunday night. As we sat on an old porch-room in a deserted wing of the hotel that evening, resting and wondering what to make of the place, we suddenly heard singing and organ music bouncing off the Pyrenees. We followed it, wandering through the narrow streets and finally making our way down to the river, and then the Grotto, where hundreds of people were gathered, holding candles and praying the rosary in 5 or 6 different languages. The Basilica of the Rosary was all lit up and the place was beautiful. After drinking from one of the fountains, we headed back to bed for the night.

Day 2:









After an early wake-up, we found a place for breakfast and laced up our hiking boots. We found our way to the base of Pic du Jer, which is the higher of two mountains located just outside of Lourdes. The weather was warm and sunny and we spent the entire morning walking to the top. On the way up, we encountered a peppy dog, whom we named Odie, and some strange trains of caterpillars, all headed somewhere. After taking some pictures and eating lunch at the top, we hiked down and gave our aching feet a rest for the remainder of the afternoon. That night, we headed to the Grotto to take part in a candle-light prayer service. It was just like the one we had wandered into the previous night. There was giant procession around the square and each decade of the rosary was said in a different language to accommodate for all of the different pilgrims there. It was quite an experience.


Day 3:





For our last day in Lourdes, we decided to stick around town and check out all of the religious sites and museums available. We explored the Basilica of the Rosary, the strange, modern Basilica of Pope Pius X, and we walked the outdoor Chemin de la Croix. After a Chinese buffet lunch (which soon returned to haunt me), we spent the afternoon checking out the Chateau in the center of Lourdes. It has a really interesting history involving Moors and Charlemagne, and Eagles dropping giant trout upon the ramparts, so you should really look it up if any of those things appeal to you. That night, we bought a bottle of wine, some cheese, a can of pate, and a baguette for dinner, and we ate them on the same porch we sat on when we heard the music and the prayers on the first night.

Day 4:






Revenge of Dien Bien Phu. I resolved never to eat Chinese food in France ever again. Dan and I got to our 7:00 a.m. train, the TGV, and watched the Pyrenees dwindle in the distance as we sped toward French wine country. Upon reaching Bordeaux, we located our hotel, had a quick filled baguette next to a monument commemorating the decapitated martyrs of the French Revolution, and found the travel bureau where we were to meet for our wine tasting tour. This tour was phenomenal. I learned so much that I think I might have to write a separate blog post explaining the art of Bordeaux wine-making and how to go about tasting it like a professional. To be concise, though, we visited two Chateaux: Chateau la Tour Blanche (in the Sauternes region) and Chateau Carbonnieux (in the Graves region). We toured the facilities and were given an in-depth wine-tasting tutorial at each one. After returning to the city and having dinner at a nice Indian joint, we hit the hay.

Day 5:





After sleeping in a bit, we wandered around the city until we found an internet cafe to check our email and touch base with the outside world. This endeavor was made considerably more difficult by the fact that French keyboards are not the same as American keyboards. This is due to the fact that the French language has different letter frequencies than English. Let's just say that the letter "Q" would be a lot more popular if Wheel of Fortune was a French show. After lunch, Dan and I spent a few hours in the Bordeaux Wine Museum, which is a fairly new attraction in the city. For 5 Euro, we got an in-depth tour that taught us all about the history of the region, from Roman times through the present day, and two free glasses of wine apiece. Considering that each of the glasses of wine would have cost around 10 Euro at any decent restaurant, we considered ourselves quite lucky. That night, we located Bordeaux's restaurant district and we found a great little place with traditional french cuisine and live music before heading to bed for the night. (I should note here that, in France, dinner doesn't start until 8:00 p.m.)

Day 6:





When we woke up with only one day left in Bordeaux, we knew that we needed to spend some more time in the vineyards. Unfortunately, there are no cable cars that go that far out of the city. So, once again, we strapped on our walking shoes and headed out on a walking adventure. We took a route North out of the city, toward the Medoc region, which is world-famous for its magnificent, tannic red wines. We did eventually find some vineyards (Chateau la Dame Blanche, par example), and between walking around them a bit and getting lost on the way back, I calculated that it was about a 16-17 mile day for us. The dogs were a-barking when we got back, so we passed out for about 3 hours before dinner. Listing our culinary triumphs to this point, I must include: Pate, crepes, moules, croque monsieur (et madame), pain chocoloat, confit du canard, escargot, fois gras, soup de poisson, creme brulee, vin rouge (Medoc), vin blanc (Persac Leognan), and Rosee (Bordeaux appelation).

Day 7:





We woke up at 5:45 a.m. to catch the TGV from Bordeaux to Paris. After arriving there around 11:00 a.m., we printed off our Eurostar tickets at the train station and hopped on the metro to begin our whirlwind tour of the city. This included: Notre Dame, the Louvre, the Arc de Triomphe, the Tour Eiffel, and Sacre Coeur. We figured that, since we didn't have time to visit any of the places for as long as we wanted, we might as well just get our picture in front of ALL of them. Highlights of this day:

-Getting off the Metro, one of the mother (or teacher)-chaperons for a group of American high school girls rushed past us on the stairs. Catching sight of the two, dashing, dark-haired men who had clearly not shaved in over a week and probably didn't smell like roses, she reminded her girls to "hold on tight to your purses and bags!" (Profiled once again...) I turned to her and assured her that we were not in the purse-snatching business. She was embarrassed, the girls got a good laugh at her expense, and she probably got pick-pocketed later that day by someone who actually was as sketchy at they looked. Such is life.





-On the Champs-Elysee, I had a moment of deja-vu. Upon passing a certain ATM, I felt like I had been there...years before. I stopped dead in my tracks, turned to look it in its smug, little ATM face, and realized that it was the self-same ATM that had eaten my card when I was in Paris as a sophomore in high school. At that moment in my life, I didn't know that entering an incorrect PIN more than twice would have such severe consequences. "So we meet again," I said. It leered at me (cue "The Good, The Bad, and The Ugly" theme). I turned around, took five deliberate steps, the change in my pocket jingling like spurs, turned, quick as lightening, and drew my wallet before the inanimate object could blink. The day was mine. There wasn't enough room for the both of us in that city.





-After seeing all the sights that we wanted to see, Dan and I decided that we wanted one more really nice meal before leaving France. So, we found a nice restaurant near the train station and waltzed right in wearing jeans and toting enormous backpacks. The Maitre d'Hotel was duly impressed and gave us prime seating-- in the back corner, away from the rest of the guests. It was like we had our own private room. They must have thought we were pretty special. At the time, neither of us thought that we would be heading back to mainland Europe (we have since booked a weekend trip to Barcelona...), and so we decided to burn through the remainder of the 75 Euro that we had between us. We each ordered 30 Euro, 3-course meals (starting off with oysters and haddock tar-tar, followed by cod with sweet potato and rice, and topped off by cheesecake and pineapple slices with ice cream and pistachios), and 12 Euro glasses of Sauternes wine, which we had acquired a taste for in Bordeaux. At the end of the meal, a different waiter rung us out, and he failed to include the wine on the bill. Surprised, but sensitive to the fact that this waiter appeared to be a very busy man, we paid and left without interrupting him to mention that he had forgotten to charge us for the wine. It was our good deed for the day.

After dinner, we caught the Eurostar back to London St. Pancras Station, caught the London tube to Paddington Station, and caught the 11:30 First Great Western train back to Bath. Our last triumphant stop before 29 Northampton Street, where our showers and beds were waiting, was Mr. D's Chicken Truck. Where else are you going to get food at 1:30 in the morning?

Well, that's about it for my (mis)adventures. I hope that you've enjoyed this, and again, I apologize for it taking so long to post. Cheers!

-The Wandering Wordsmith