Why Metrovino Loves Beaujolais...

Why Metrovino Loves Beaujolais...

“Beaujolais is for drinking, more so than any other wine. The classic swirl, sniff, sip, swish and spit approach us pretentious wine "professionals" flaunt so regularly doesn't properly encapsulate the soul of the best Beaujolais. One must invoke the "gulp" or the "chug" technique to unveil the full beauty embedded within these captivating wines. And with price tags a fraction of their big brothers in northern Burgundy, this proper testing technique can be enjoyed while still making your mortgage payments.”
- Jim

Let it be...

Let it be...

Not a celebration of the (too-often) repeated Beatles song, but rather a statement of a reality.

Drew Noon of McLaren Vale, Australia, says it best when he unapologetically states “I make wine in a warm climate; I make big wines.” What he suggests as “big” are somewhat reflective of a classic Australian red wine. These attributes of ripe, plump body, rich berry flavours and sometimes considerable alcohol have become the subject of mockery by many (including myself - guilty as charged).

Forged by Fire

Forged by Fire

No doubt all of you have experienced the rather hot weather of late. Pleasant, by my standards, but warm for most I suppose. I understand that not everyone agrees with this caveat, as my internal thermostat begins somewhere around 25ºC. Therefore, this “heat” is personally, idyllic. Now, before you simply dismiss this piece as the inane ramblings of a lunatic muttering about the weather, please allow me the opportunity to see my analogy through to its completion.

Scrutinizing the Inscrutable

Scrutinizing the Inscrutable

We’re too narrow-minded in our sensorial discussion of wine. By “we” I mean wine professionals, amateurs and consumers of all types, but it’s mostly the fault of the pros because their lead is followed by everybody else. Descriptions and reviews of wine, whether written by the chief editor of Wine Spectator Magazine or a vainglorious Pittsburgh-based banker with a Vivino account, are almost always laughably fatuous, nauseatingly derivative or both. I’m no better, but I’m willing to explain the nature of this failure.

 
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