31.5.08

The Goodbye Rehearsal, or, long-overdue update & buildup to Wine Blogging Wednesday # 46

For my own 'Opening Farewell', where Jackson Browne writes that poignant line,
'There's a train/every day/going either way...'
there is rather the image of a roller-coaster ride running its dizzy circles a little too long in a tight, narrow perimeter...

As I believe I've mentioned, but for the limping 'vanity' service that stops in Rosario on its way from Buenos Aires to Tucumán, there is no passenger rail in Argentina. Riding into Maipú with Hans of Posada Cavieres one morning, we were detained by a freight train as it crawled along the barely functional tracks & made its way over the unmarked road crossing. I was dumbfounded. It seems the mining industry has managed, in some areas of otherwise difficult access, to continue using the diminished, deteriorated infrastructure & provide the rare sighting.
My running routes these six months have more often than not taken me along these abandoned tracks. Everybody blames former president Carlos Menem (--a neo-liberal free marketer in the Thatcher & Reagan mold) for the demise of the system, everybody hopes & wishes for some manner of service to be reestablished. There are rumours of a longstanding project to redevelop a minimal loop for a Mendoza-based tourist 'Wine Train'...then there is the more complex political boondoggle holding up the rehabilitation of the Transandino line over the Cordillera to Chile...

In speaking to Mendocinos from all walks of life, I find a shared, general sense of frustration at the woeful inadequacy of all types of infrastructure-- for transport, for communication-- & much finger-pointing at bureaucratic centralism (in corrupt complicity with corporate malfeasance) on the part of the government in Buenos Aires for the sense of inescapable neglect the whole region of Cuyo passively endures. The simmering resentment this breeds cuts across political lines & feeds longstanding feelings of impotence & futility.

Just yesterday (--er, last Friday) there was a power outage at Solares de Maipú, where I had been been living over budget chiefly to take advantage of their wi-fi loop. Power was restored soon enough, but the wireless Internet was not...possibly in need of resetting by tech administrators?
It's a week later, I'm back at Posada Cavieres as I wind my affairs down & there was still no wi-fi at Solares de Maipú when I spoke with Diego, the manager, this morning. If any further evidence is called for, it's a matter of recorded protest that the provincial road from San Rafael, capital of the southernmost wine-producing district in the region, & the agro-industrial vineyards extending thousands of hectares to the East, is a two-lane dirt track.

I had forgotten how chilly this quaint, historical casita can get when one sits at the keyboard for more than twenty minutes. My main source of heat is a pint-sized wood burning stove that looks as if a diet had trimmed away its pot belly. I don't have the best fire-building & maintenance skills, either.
But enough digression. Alberto Cecchin found my revised proposal agreeable, & our agreement runs like this:
I'm buying about 450 liters, or 600 bottles, of his 2006 Bonarda, along with half as much Merlot from the same year. As a nod to the tasting notes I never posted from the visit chronicled here, I'll just say the tank samples of this latter wine opened up to discreet red fruit & classic velvety mouthfeel into the second day of tasting. No oak program on any of this: naked, pure, organic grape juice, fermented on autochtonous yeasts & with a bare minimum of sulfites for stabilization.
I've also contracted to put the same quantities of 2008 juice into oak for maturing: the Bonarda gets divided between one two-year-old American barrel & a neutral, three-year-old French one. The Merlot should go into French oak, I'm not sure whether to chance the strength of the 2nd year barrel. I would be hoping, in the best of cases, to blend with as much wine from the concrete tanks when, um Gotteswillen, I come back towards the end of next February, so that the final bottlings are only 50% oak-aged...
The feather in my cap in regard to this part of my long-term project would be the possibility of bottling a vineyard-block designate selection of Dr. Pedro Rosell's Malbec. One of the five samples mentioned here (I'm almost certain it was the selection from the 900 meter ridge at the top of 'El Reposo' vineyard, but couldn't swear to it right now.) was maybe 'varietally untypical', & reminiscent in some ways of Loire Cabernet Franc in character: clear violet color with lavender rim, violet in the nose & violet pastille with subtle, discreet red fruit to support the floral character in the palate. Maybe a little short, but a wine of sensuous delicacy, nonetheless. I haven't managed to meet up with señor Pedro again, I truly hope we manage to reconnect before I leave town by the end of next week.
(I was hoping to write down some quick tasting notes on the three Viogniers I've tried here, but the alluvial-scree, dirt-road obstacle course that comprises my running route beckons. I'll publish this as is & try to include those notes as a prologue to a surprising, if unarguably overpriced, boutique bottling of Ugni Blanc which will form the core of my returning participation in Wine Blogging Wednesday...to be continued...)

13.5.08

Cosecha de Lunas

apurar el poso
de mi menguante copa
no brinda respuestas

sino huellas en clave
de uva y estrellas

la duda renace
fresca entre ruinas
de luz y ceniza escarchada

11.5.08

Para mi difunta madre-- by Paul Celan:

Der Reisekamerad

Deiner Mutter Seele schwebt voraus.
Deiner Mutter Seele hilft die Nacht umschiffen, Riff um Riff.
Deiner Mutter Seele peitscht die Haie vor dir her.

Dieses Wort ist deiner Mutter Mündel.
Deiner Mutter Mündel teilt dein Lager, Stein um Stein.
Deiner Mutter Mündel bückt sich nach der Krume Lichts.


(from Mohn und Gedächtnis (Poppy and Memory), 1952)


The Travel Companion

Your mother's soul hovers ahead.
Your mother's soul helps sail around night, reef upon reef.
Your mother's soul lashes the sharks on before you.

This word is your mother's ward.
Your mother's ward shares your bed, stone upon stone.
Your mother's ward stoops for the crumb of light.

tr. John Felstiner


El Compañero de Viaje

El alma de tu madre va flotando delante.
El alma de tu madre ayuda a sortear la noche, escollo a escollo.
El alma de tu madre fustiga a los tiburones delante de ti.

Esta palabra es el pupilo de tu madre.
El pupilo de tu madre comparte tu lecho, piedra a piedra.
El pupilo de tu madre se inclina hacia la migaja de luz.

tr. Jesús Muñárriz

9.5.08

Edge of Burnout (Update-- some details...)

Drained, fatigued, overwhelmed--questioning my purpose...where do I begin?
The petty passions of the wine world & its merchants...what's the point? What am I doing here? tilting at windmills...& what for?

Mother's Eve, Sonnabend 10 of May:

On Thursday, Alberto Cecchin was off to Buenos Aires on business...so I continue to rehearse alternate proposals: all of a sudden, with no idea of the time & money it may take me to acquire an import permit, risk management is foremost on my mind.
One lead, to a major one-stop-shop importer-distributor in the New York area: MHW, Ltd., is a little intimidating. A sampling from their client list:

Albert Bichot Company

Barcardi-Martini USA Inc.

Beringer Wine Estates

Crillon Importers Ltd.

Freixenet USA, Inc.

Marie Brizard

--'Hi, I want to put um maybe 25 or 50 cases of wine from Argentina under my own label, what does it take for me to bring that Stateside?'
--been rehearsing 'til dawn the last couple of nights...argh.

3.5.08

This is only the beginning...

(--our story thus far...
I'm buying 900 liters of 2006 Bonarda, to bottle under my own label--yet to be devised-- as a way to jump-start my 'social capital' co-branding project...1200 bottles, one hundred cases of wine. Yikes! Import permits, duties, fees, marketing strategies...the real work is only just getting started...)

Wednesday, April 7...

...running in circles in my head...warned against putting the wine in oak at this point-- too high a risk of oxidation after two years...bottle it up?! -- & then?
...Have no labels, no permits...leave in storage here until February when I can come back?
Seems increasingly unlikely I could have everything settled in time for me to fly to California on May 20-- & the next available seating on my AAdvantage program award/fare basis is on June 18!! Aargh...

30.4.08

'It ain't over 'til the fat lady sings...'

I guess all those high 'C's' must be ringing in my feverish imagination. After all of our casual off-and-on conversation over the last four months, an idea that I blurted to Alberto Cecchin at the Slow Food Mendoza event just over a week ago led to an appointment for a formal meeting with him yesterday.
The upshot of it is, I'm buying 900 liters of his 2006 Bonarda, to bottle under my own label--yet to be devised-- as a way to jump-start my 'social capital' co-branding project.
My mind & heart are racing, I'm stunned...1200 bottles, one hundred cases of wine.
Yikes! Import permits, duties, fees, marketing strategies...the real work is only just getting started, & this would be a strange dry run, with no real inventory to follow through on interest-- unless, unless...
Unless I get a bit of positive feedback-- before Thursday, when the deal is scheduled to be finalized-- from my wine 2.0 friends regarding permits, storage, logistics for the long term so that I feel comfortable taking a chance on two hundred cases...

19.4.08

Tech Matters, Tech Spirits-- or, Six Degrees of Spoofulation..

Take three-hundred & sixty-four:
all of a sudden, the signal coming through my borrowed wireless modem drops out-- & yet, the connection seems to be open & holding...
Hans has finally invested in the device to be able to connect to the Internet through his celphone company, CTi, which is being absorbed (--merging?) with Claro, (--principal?) brand name for América Móvil, burgeoning Mexican telecom (--which sometime ago struck a deal with Vodaphone, & incorporated their accounts & assets in Puerto Rico...)

I realize that except for a posting nod to the last, big roller-coaster turn my hopes of making wine this year got--a month ago, here-- I haven't written anything wine-related in nearly three months... although I suppose some of the meandering, melancholy, existential verse I've inflicted might be excused as 'wine-related writing'.
Well, it certainly seems like I've drunk enough mediocre, pretentious & gratingly rustic wine in Argentina to last me a lifetime, & I feel quite ready to chuck my aching, perfectionistic compulsion to craft overarching narratives & let loose a minimally coherent collection of impressions that may only very charitably be termed 'tasting notes', thank you.

My most recent negative experience was with a bottle of the '04 Malbec Roberto Boschi has made for Hans & his Cavieres label. I'll venture that wines made traditionally here, fermented & matured in large-capacity, epoxy-lined concrete tanks have a tendency to reduction & run the risk of sulphur compounds getting the upper hand. However, I've learned Sr. Boschi has no 'piletas', only small steel tanks-- go figure... It was a 2004, bottled under a plastic stopper, so that may have been a factor...other samples have been in infinitely better shape, & the same producer's '06 Bonarda has been consistently good, with olive-leaf & black olive aromas, integrated with discreet black fruit in the mouth, & a lingering cola note...

The second nastiest case of burnt match & brimstone was a pink blend made by a character by the name of Juricich, chiefly a beekeeper & honey producer whose other risky bottling had, to this palate, happier results: a Lambrusco-like Malbec where residual sugar fueled in-bottle malolactic fermentation for a rich, rustic, 'frizzante' quaffer.
I forget the source grapes for the rosé-- but its salmon to burnt orange peel look, smell & taste make me wonder if the line between reduction & oxidation is an especially thin, confused blur in these Antipodean latitudes...

At the other extreme, my 90 pt. gold medal for 'Most Seductive Spoofulate' must go to a Tempranillo (Reserva '03, if I remember right-- with the caveat that in Argentina, the 'Reserva' label gets slapped on anything with more than five months barrel aging.) --bottled by Tittarelli under its upscale label, 'Finca El Retiro': it was with nostalgic shock & awe, guilt & further tangled feelings that I downed this bottle of what could have passed for one of Ridge's Zinfandels-- maybe their Paso Robles version, with its tendency to overheat nicely mascara'ed by El Draper's deft brush strokes, applying the full complement of International Oak Toast pigments in his palette.
Unfortunately, a second bottle found in the dark recesses of Mendoza's 'Carrefour' megasupermarket was all cigar ashes & gummy eyelashes where the first bottle had that cedar spice-box nose, dusty nutmeg on a dark cherry mouth, & trace of coconutty oiliness in the mouthfeel I believe are what good/Norweigian-- er, American Wood can bring to the glass...
I also had a bottle of '02 under the main 'Tittarelli' label which reminded me of the funky, cheap Riojas of my youth. Sr. Alberto, of Bodega Cecchin, when told of these experiences, sniggered, 'Tittarelli? I wouldn't be sure it's Tempranillo, anyway.'
Here's the scoop: the man should know. He sold some of his press wine, would not tell me which varietals, to a Wine Club in Buenos Aires that sent their Sommelier-in-Chief, tasted & devised a blend, & labeled & bottled it-- hold onto your hat, I was there for the bottling-- as Nebbiolo !!
(...continuará...)