The Friday Study Sesh: Mas Candí ‘Baudili’

This Week’s Wine:

2017 Mas Candí ‘Baudili’

• Region: Alt Penedès, Spain
• DO: Penedès
• Varietal: Xarel.lo, Parellada
• How it’s Made: All stainless, co-fermented, 6 months on the lees
• Farming and Such: Organic, some bio D. Zero chemicals, zero herbicides, zero pesticides 

Let’s Roll…

Celler Mas Candí happened when Ramon Jané and his wife, Mercí Cuscó got together with the homie, Toni Carbó and decided to bottle some wine. The Mas Candí vineyards had been farmed organically by Ramon’s family for over 500 years, but in 2006 Ramon and squad decided to stop selling berries to the masses and actually make some delicious wine out of them. They are certainly catalysts for the ideology of clean, natural and organic winemaking in the Penedès. They’ve moved out of the Cava DO, they’ve moved into the Corpinnat* and their wines are clear examples of what old vine Xarel.lo and indigenous varieties of the region can embody.

Mas Candí grows vines in the Alt Penedès sub region of the Penedès. Many consider Alt Penedès to be the best subregion of the three subregions in the area to grow and vinify cava varietals, and it is home to some of the more culty cava producers like Recaredo and Raventós. Vineyards can reach 500-800 meters in altitude, generally higher than those of the Baix or Mitja Penedès. Wines benefit from the cooler temperatures and access to the breeze off that delightful Mediterranean Sea. Conditions here are so fly, in fact, the Alt Penedès has proven to be the perfect region to pump out natural wine, and Mas Candí has certainly risen to that occasion.

The Mas Candí team has a couple of side projects, or labels if you will. The Baudili is actually now part of the Viticultor Ramon Jané label, a project for zero zero wines that steer less toward the classic style of the Penedès and more toward the totes natch (natural), highly chuggable and properly complex. The Viticultor Ramon Jané wines grow from the Garraf Mountain coastal ridge, still in the Alt Penedès but closer to the Garraf Massif- a coastal mountain range with cliffs leading all the way to the Mediterranean Sea. Vineyards are around 250-300 meters in altitude and benefit from diurnal shifts and that delightful Mediterranean Sea breeze (it’s so delightful I’ve said it twice). 

Pro Tip- If you are familiar with the wines, the Tinc Set ‘Ancestral’ is actually the same juice used in the Baudili. The Ancestral has the sparkle, the Baudili has the chill. 

Soils of the region are clay calcareous-calcareous an adjective referring to something that is made up in part or whole of calcium carbonate and referring to limestone and chalk. Calcareous soils remain at cooler temperatures, helpful in those hot Catalan summers. Calcareous soils tend to produce more sap in the vines, offer low sugar and high acidity in the berries and have a higher ph level (nerd shit) which, among 100 scientific things, can lower yields and offer up some nutrients. Clay calcareous soils retain water, grapes ripen slower, flavor and acidity are higher and blam- Mas Candí ‘Baudili’ is born.

To the grapes!

Xarel.lo (schar-ell-lo) is a light skinned grape widely planted in Catalunya and most famous for existing as one of the three main varieties in Cava production. When made properly, Xarel.lo has super textural powers, with flavors and aromas of white flowers, lanolin, stone fruit, lime blossom and lemon. Its acidity is fire, and should you know what you are doing you are free to throw it an almost any vessel and watch it shine. It is a shape shifter, like Chardonnay (or the Kwisatz Haderach), and will bend and mold depending on its terruño. I often offer Xarel.lo to guests wanting Chenin Blanc, Chardonnay or simply a wine with both texture and minerality. 

Parellada is also a light skinned grape not really found anywhere outside Catalunya. It is one of the three main grapes used in Cava, and has rarely been known in the past to be used as still wine, much less a varietal one. It brings green apple and flower blossom to the party, cutting into the richness and adding an extra layer of acidity. It grows best in cool climates and is best left to those who pay attention to its character. Some say it is the most complex of the three Cava varietals. It’s certainly the sharpest tack in the bunch.

Tasting Notes: White flower, jasmine, lanolin. On the palate some stonefruit and white flowers, waxy. Some apple vibes. Pale yellow color, unfiltered, delicious AF. Acidity high, mostly fruit some savor and herbs.

*The Corpinnat is a fairly specific classification for the méthode champenoise style sparklers of the Penedès- aka Cava. Baudili is still wine, so let’s not get into all this today.

Blogged At: My Condo, East Oakland

Soundtrack: Oakland A’s vs Houston Astros at home. We got the win- 10 runs scored in total, all homeruns- nuts. 

 

The Friday Study Sesh: Gorrondona Txakoli

This Week’s Wine: 2018 Doniene Gorrondona Txakoli 

• Region: País Vasco
• DO: Bizkaiko Txakolina
• Varietal: 85% Hondarrabi Zuri, with Hondarrabi Zuri Zerratia, Munemahatsa, and Hondarrabi Beltza
• How it’s Made: Vinified in tank with indigenous yeasts
• Farming and Such: Ecological

Ok let’s roll:

There’s something about the Basque Country. I just read my 2017 travel journal and the page from País Vasco is making me feel a little wild even now. I remember it as the time in my “Yolo”* when I truly started giving zero fucks. It’s when I climbed where I wanted and ate what I wanted and laid topless on the beach when I wanted. I spoke spanish without hesitation to locals in the tiny mountain town where I had rented a three bedroom apartment from and old man who lied about having wifi. I sat by myself in a Michelin Star Restaurant, getting drunk off sherry and watching dry ice turn into turmeric leaves while choosing wine from a poster size wine list and a sommelier who spoke 4 languages. 

The Doniene Gorrondona Txakoli is a high toned, spritzy little number. It smells clean and cold, with hints of stone fruit, green apple and the sourgrass I used to eat as a kid on my walk to the local donut shop. The palate is wet, green grass, more green apple, more sourgrass and searing acidity that begs for those anchoa pintxos on which I’ve gorged myself in local pintxo bars. 

Gorrondona was actually the only winery I visited while in País Vasco and it was green, wet and quaint as all get down. It sits right on the Bay of Biscay in the town of Bakio, a wet, chilly beach town lined with tiny cafés, rolling green hills and hand painted murals that read “Palastina Askatu!” The squad behind Gorrondona consists of winemaker and oenologist Itziar Insausti and journalist Andoni Sarratea. Family helps in both the vineyards and the winery. They are some of the original pioneers in the creation of the DO Bizkaiko Txakolina in 1994, when they attempted to revive the passion for winemaking in Txakolina rather than promote construction and urban sprawl. Gorrondona is the name of the farmhouse and winery built in 1852, where they farm 16 hectares of vines, including a two hectare parcel of pergola style pre-phylloxera vines of hondarrabi beltza– the scantily planted red varietal of Txakoli. 

País Vasco as a wine region holds three DOs, Bizkaiko Txakolina being the largest. The Bizkaiko DO surrounds Bilbao, and its proximity to the Atlantic Ocean makes steady rainfall a way of life here. White wines don’t typically reach over 11.5 percent alcohol, and although it’s more popular in the neighboring DO Getariako Txakolina, the Bizkaiko folks sometimes bottle the wine with lees for secondary fermentation resulting in a slight spritz. The DO is a good size so location and plantings vary, but many vineyards are planted on hillsides in an effort to avoid north winds and grab as much sunshine as possible. Southerly winds typically roll through before harvest to help with ripening. Soils are sandy and loose alluvial over a clay and limestone, providing the assist in aromatics and the drainage for some of that persistent rain. Much of the wine pumping out of the País Vasco is best consumed young, but there are more serious wines and some red wines that stand to benefit with a little age on them. 

The varietal you’ll see most often in Txakolina is referred to as Hondarrabi Zuri, which is often spelled “Ondarrabi Zuri” in the Bizkaiko Txakolina DO. It is said to be the french varietal Courbu Blanc. Also used in the Bizkaiko Do are Hondarrabi Zuri Zerratia, Txori Mahatsa, Mune Mahatsa (Petit Courbu, Sauvignon Blanc and Folle Blanche, respectively) and Ondarrabi Beltza- the red varietal of the region. The varietals are named after a coastal town on the french border called Hondarribia, and people have been known to say Hondarrabi Zuri is simply a blanket statement for any white grape that passes around or through the town of Hondarribia. Whatever the answer, drink up. This delicious, light, low ABV, high toned, high acid patio pounder has been known to take me through line waiting for a Bobblehead at the Oakland Coliseum and is best drank with friends, sunshine and a pass at the porrón. 

The wine was a little shut off the day we tasted, and has long since returned to the notes I wrote above, but here are the tasting notes from Justin Roberts (Al’s Place) and me on 7.26:

Stone orchard fruit, pith, super subdued, high acidity and a little shut off. Taco shell, dried soap, dried mango. Brittle?(can’t read my writing) Possibly xarel.lo…

*Yolo. When I told Angie I bought a one way ticket to Spain to study wine, she told me it was my Yolo. She was right. I had no house, no rent, no man. I had money in my pocket, love on my side and the benefit of a boss who was willing to let me leave and actually wanted me to come back. You only live once, so I did.

From my Journal, July 2017

“Something happened to me in the Basque Country. And it could have been a number of things, the timing, the fact that I have been in Spain for two months, that nothing- no matter how new or difficult to understand could be considered new or difficult anymore because- bitch- you should be able to handle this right now. And maybe it was almost falling off a cliff, or going topless for the first time on the beach in San Sebastián, or that San Sebastián itself looks just enough like San Francisco to feel at home but just enough like nothing I’ve ever seen before to feel refreshed , or that the people in my tiny village of Atxondo are the nicest most punk rock most down to earth people I have ever met. or that I don’t have wifi in my air bb so I’m forced to take a number of drinks with them to pull from their wifi but something happened to me in the Basque country and it It’s the reason I came here, the vibe I was looking for when I crossed the ocean and i hope it never, ever goes away.”

 

Blogged at: Bellota

Soundtrack: Diego el Cigala Radio

 

Wines to Pair with Family: Thanksgiving Edition

If you’re a wino like me, you’ve been inundated with articles about what to drink with Thanksgiving Dinner. And while it’s mildly important to have a good bottle of Pinot Noir with whatever overcooked vegetable your aunt’s girlfriend brought, I find it way more interesting to have a wine for those wildly uncomfortable, highly typical family dynamics we face year after year. So here are a list of wines that pair well with my family dynamics. I hope they work for yours, as well.

Side Dish Prep-

So it’s Thanksgiving morning, you’re at home in your pj’s and you’re trying to figure out that side dish you were asked to bring. For this scenario, I recommend the La Salada ‘Tinct Set’ Ancestral. Ancestral the Spanish term for ‘half the sparkle, all the ambition.’ But don’t look that up. Toni Carbo from Mas Candí and his wife, Anna created the La Salada label for wines grown on generations of his family’s all organic soils in the Penedès. The Tinct Set is bright, light-hearted and fruity. In fact, it’s probably the most light-hearted fun you’ll have all day. Plus that low ABV means you can drink half a bottle while prepping your side dish and the other half while taking a shower. Grandma won’t have a clue.

The Family Greeting-

The day is young, the family still loves each other and no one is gossiping about how much you’ve eaten off the cheese plate. Bonus round- no one knows about that first bottle you took down at home! So let’s pop a some cava and cheers to yet another Happy Thanksgiving! This year, impress the entire family with Los Bermejos sparkling Rosado from Lanzarote in the Canary Islands. It’s exotic and volcanic, zippy and fruity with just the right touch of texture and creaminess to keep your dad from announcing it’s not actually Champagne. Thank you, Canary Islands.

When the Family Asks if You Have a Boyfriend-

“Ya, I’m still single, Grandma, no I don’t have any kids, yes I know how old I am.” This excruciating line of questioning means it’s time to grab a bottle DaTerra Viticultures ‘Erea de Vila,’ snatch that entire bowl of Grandma Jewell’s crab dip and head to the TV to watch basketball for a while. The Erea de Vila is comprised of mostly old vine Godello from the hills of Ribeira Sacra. It’s got texture, minerals, fruit and herbs. It’s begging for salty chips and dip, that cream cheese salami thing my mom makes and hot men in basketball shorts. (RIP, Grandma Jewell.)

When Aunt Mary Starts to Get Drunk-

Finally, let’s get this party started. Aunt Mary is getting tipsy, she’s stepped outside for her first cigarette and it’s time to switch to red. Borja Perez Ignios Orígenes ‘Vijariego Negro’ is what you’ve been waiting for all morning. It’s the kind of wine you want to sit in the corner and talk dirty to, the kind of wine you want to share with Aunt Mary so she’ll tell you colorful stories of driving AC Transit through East Oakland 30 years ago. It’s fruity, giving and full of tamarind deliciousness without asking anything in return. It goes down so easy you’ll be tempted to drink the whole bottle right there. Save some for dinner, though, this wine may pair perfectly with Grandma Finley’s candied yams. (RIP, Aunt Mary.)

Thanksgiving Dinner- 

Ok, the jig is up, I really dislike Thanksgiving dinner. It’s so brown and gravied and mashed and cooked. All I can do is pray to the gods someone made a kale salad, or that someone hands me a tortilla so I can eek out a turkey taco. But whatever sort of bread crumbly thing I’m forced to endure, I’m keeping a bottle of 2016 Fazenda Prádio MRZ by my side and dreaming of pulpo and the Miño river hot springs. This candied fruit, graphite and slightly peppered little number has the power to make me ignore the fact that I hate mashed potatoes and that my little brother just stole all of the dark meat. I only say 2016 because I worked the harvest that year, this wine is fly in any vintage. Pro tip: keep your glass full of this Merenzao so when Grandpa Doug busts out the Silver Oak you are covered. (RIP, Grandpa Doug.)

 

This blog is dedicated to my whole family. To the ones who have passed, to the ones who can’t be here and to the ones who are braving the storm.

Happy Holidays.

Blogged At: My Condo, East Oakland

Soundtrack: SIR 

 

 

The Tarot and the Wine

In an effort to practice self care, a prescription given to me by so many as of late, I decided to go for a little tarot reading and a two hour facial last Saturday. The usual. And if it seems like a two hour facial is a little intense, well, you should have been at the tarot reading. Let’s just say some sage was burnt, some aura was sprayed and some tears were shed. I’m not sure if it constituted as “self care,” but it definitely gave me something to write about. So here is a tiny portion of my tarot reading, in no particular order and and as it pertains to wine. Because if it actually pertains to real life, I’m just not in the mood.

The Tarot and the Wine

Lust- The lust card is about passion, energy and power. It’s and living life in the moment and mastering your inner animal. The card usually features a woman looking into the jaws of a lion, as if she doesn’t find consequence in being eaten or has somehow already tamed the beast. The card also represents passion, and the proof when we work at it hard, it pays off in the end. My logical brain thinks this card was drawn for someone else, but I don’t think the logical brain is supposed to be used here.

The Viños Ambiz ‘Alba’ from Sierra de Gredos is a lusty little number. The grape is albillo- natural, raw and unfiltered. At first it is guarded, closed off. But an exercise in patience finds it wildly expressive and virtually untamed. Maybe you don’t want to wait for it, maybe it’s not worth your time. Maybe in a month you may wonder why you were obsessing over it in the first place. But one day you’ll find yourself drinking it again and leaping right back in to the mouth of the lion. Nothing worth it is ever easy.

The Lovers- Some say the Lovers card is that of true, grounded love. It is a card of harmony and and attraction, of impenetrable bond. Others say the lovers is a card of choice- a choice between two women, a choice between things that are opposing and mutually exclusive. A choice between what’s in front of you and what’s seemingly divine. Can’t you see these things are the same?

For the Lovers, I’m drinking Alfredo Maestro ‘Lovamor,’ albillo from Ribera del Duero. Yes, Ribera del Duero pumps out some delicious white wine despite its obsession with full-bodied reds. Alfredo Maestro is a super power in Castilla y León, making fresh, natural, clean delicious wines from Ribera down to Madrid. If you are not riding his train already, I suggest you hop on. The Lovamor takes seven days of skin contact like a true professional, offering structure and a power as needed. In true form of the Lovers, it is harmonized by fresh acidity, stone fruit and white flower aromas. Plus the label shows a Little Red Riding Hood giving the Wolf a kiss, which reminds me of someone I know.

The Fool- The fool represents the beginning of something that is largely unknown. It is a leap of faith that can violate logic and twist your reality. It is unbearably innocent and super naive, a fearless foot forward in unknown situations. Be careful, however, the fool drawn reversed is a sure sign of stupidity, and clear evidence someone is taking advantage. Remember to keep one eye open and one hand on your glass. And always stay in control.

Now for an entire magnum full of fearless feet forward-3 Porcs ‘Uic Uic.’ Born after Francesc Ferré (Celler Frisach), Oriol Artigas (Oriol Artigas) and Alberto Domingo (Celler Tuets) took a van on a 7 day road trip. A small amount of showering and a large amount of guy stuff dubbed these guys the ‘3 Porcs.’ Garnatxa blanca from Terra Alta, pansa blanca from Alella and parellada from the Penedès are blended together to form the Uic Uic. The guys switch facilities each year, and this years tank, fermented in the region of Alella, grew an accidental layer of flor. It’s this kind of reckless abandon and leap into the unknown that takes the Fool to a whole new level. I have some at 3 Porcs at Bellota, come drink and let’s see what happens.

The Chariot- The Chariot card represents experience, travel or taking life by the reigns. In some decks there are no reigns, just the power of the mind to control what lies ahead. It’s almost a hero card- reflecting freedom, control and a power you may have just gained in work or in life. It is a card that requires mad respect. The moment my reader suggested I travel, the Chariot flew right out of her shuffle and on top of my reading. I promptly explained I’d be in Cadíz this April.

Looks like my next Chariot is taking me to Sherry country, to that mystical sunset in Cadíz. Bodega Forlong ‘La Fleur’ is my newest obsession in the sherry department. Forlong keeps it the oldest type of old school. La Fleur is an unfortified sherry, aged under flor in a single barrel rather than a solera. They dry their palomino sherry must in the sun, and use this deep concentration to keep the flor alive and well in the barrel. Their organic, chalky albariza soils throw some major minerality in the mix. This wine is salty, rich, raw and laser focused all at once. Concentrated and mineral and a straight up delight to drink through your whole meal. I can’t wait to take my Chariot back to visit this spring. 

Ace of Swords- Congratulations. The Ace of Swords means you’re about to cut through a whole lot of bullshit. It represents a breakthrough of power and intellect. It’s a sign to leave old stuff behind, to carve a path for what’s ahead and to take back what’s yours. It constitutes a time to set goals and is a clear cut suggestion you are about to slay. The card’s double edged sword carries a wreath on its point and is shown hovering over land and sea, a symbol your new found power can conquer lands both near and far.

And my favorite place to conquer both land and sea, to make major breakthroughs and to whip out my proverbial sword? Obviously Galicia. For this type of breakthrough, I’m going to one of my main men in the Ribeiro, Luis Anxo Rodriguez. Luis is a boss, a believer in Ribeiro and a catalyst for all those beautiful, indigenous grape varietals you see in the wines of Galicia today. He championed the revival of nearly extinct varietals and was among the first to plant grapes like ferrol, caiño longo and bracellao (thanks, bud). His A Torno ‘Dos Pasas’ Tinto has a permanent spot on both my wine list and in my heart, as he and I drank it together at a table outside his winery. It fits the bill for most of our food and impresses the novice on down to the wine geek.

Enjoy the wine. The tarot, though let’s not do that again. Vale.

Blogged at: My house

Soundtrack: Soul Queen, Aretha Franklin

 

¡Las Canarias!

I recently answered a questionnaire about what wines I was going to drink for the Holidays, and Canary Islands Wines were at the top of my list. So I figured if I’m going to lug these puppies around to every holiday party in leu of a bad Tinder date, I had better let you know just what they’re made of.

The Canary Islands

The Canary Islands sit a little over 60 miles off the coast of Morocco. They are a collection of 7 Islands formed by the Mid Oceanic Ridge, set atop the African Plate and geographically part of Africa. But since a couple of Spanish “mergers and acquisitions” in the 15th century, they have remained the southernmost region of Spain and the most tropical region in all of Europe. Each island has its own microclimate, range of elevations and terrains- most of which could be easily mistaken for sets for the original Star Trek. There are deserts, greenery, forests and rivers running through the islands. Black, ashy, volcanic rock makes up most soils. The island of Lanzarote, with underground volcanic caverns and rows of holes dug in volcanic soil for vines to grow, is a dead ringer of the Planet Vulcan from the original Star Trek Motion Picture. It is this Sci-Fi looking terrain, the myriad of tropical beaches and the tall volcanic mountains that make the Canary Islands an extremely popular tourist spot, a mad place to take a vacation and a pretty fly place to grow wine.

Like most of Spain, the Canaries have had ebbs and flows of wine making that has dated back centuries. They have had the unique pleasure of being untouched by phylloxera, the pesky little aphid that killed nearly all the vines in Europe in the 19th century. They did, however, encounter a plague of powdery mildew that overtook the vines for nearly a century. For this reason, Canary Island wines were essentially unknown to the rest of the world until a few decades ago. Much wine from the islands still doesn’t make it to the US. The wines that do make it here are highly sought after, regarded for the distinctiveness and complexity that is made possible by high altitudes, volcanic soils and old vines. The wines seem to be quickly growing in popularity among wine geeks as of late, and I wouldn’t doubt more island opportunities are heading our way. 

The Islands

Of the Canary Island wines that make it to the US, most come from the island of Tenerife. The altitudes here are among the highest in Spain, a giant volcano juts out of the middle of the island and ancient vines are twisted together in a gnarly braided looking vine system called ‘El Cordon Trenzado.’ The island of Lanzarote brings a good game, as well. Vines here are planted in a series holes in volcanic earth and surrounded by little stone walls to protect them from sharp island winds. These Vulcan-like terrains and volcanic, mineral soils add a salty, smokey element to the wines. La Palma, a personal favorite of mine, is a smaller island that houses forests in the north and a two major volcanoes in the middle. Extreme heat or gusty winds can be found within feet of each other and vines can be found twisted like the laurel wreaths of a Greek Goddess. Gran Canaria also houses its own mountainous volcanic peak, and vineyards are planted to high altitudes on rugged, volcanic soils. Red wines run the show here, and you can find Tintilla, the local variety of Trousseau, traipsing about. You can also find wines from the steep, terraced slopes El Hierro, namely in the wine room at Bellota, but production is small and finding these wines here is rare.

The Varieties

Grape varieties are mostly those indigenous to the islands, as the most varieties are planted on original rootstock. For blancos, Malvasía is an important one to mention, as a sweet style has been made since the 15th century. Dry Malvasía, Listán Blanco, Marmajuelo, Diego and Albillo are also grown depending on the island. For tintos, Listán Negro is among the more heavily planted varieties. Also found is Negramoll, Viariego Negro, Tintilla and other smatterings of indigenous varieties that are hard to pronounce and stand apart from most anything else.

The Wines

Envínate: Talk about ‘Started from the Bottom Now We’re Here,’ I bet at this point even Drake has had his hands on these wines. Envínate is set on high altitudes on the island of Tenerife. Three years ago I had my pick of the crop, and now this Canary juice is totally allocated. Come for the Taganan Blanco, stay for the Migan. Just hurry because I’m perpetually in danger of running out.

Matías i Torres: Yes, yes I have talked about this wine countless times. Victoria Torres is my Canary Island Queen, so deal with it. The Albillo is fire, and the Diego is complex and like nothing else you’ve tried. I hoard the Negramoll like I’m trying to get my episode on Viceland, but if you are reading this I’m likely to let you try any and all of them.

Borja Perez: Ok these wines are also hard to get but they are worth all the clawing and batting of eyelashes. The Viariego Negro tastes like tamarind and candied spice. It goes down super easy and makes me want to turn on ‘Like a Virgin’ with my besties and have a dance party in my living room. He does produce a label from grapes grown by local growers called ‘Artífice,’ which is also bomb and highly recommended by yours truly.

Los Bermejos: From the alien terruños of Lanzarote, Los Bermejos makes a ton of different styles from which to choose. Captain Spock and I are drinking the still and sparkling rosados as of late, so that’s probably the most logical way to go.

Suertes del Marqués: Grown on the slopes of the Pico del Teide volcano on Tenerife, the Suetes del Marqués wines are elegant, sophisticated and extremely expressive of the volcanic terruño. The vines are the super old, low yielding braided Cordon vines. He dabbles in a some natural and biodynamic practices and his wines are en fuego.

Frontón de Oro: Major shout out to Frontón de Oro, as they are the first Canary Islands wine I tried back in my days at St Vincent. The Listán Negro is super light and peppery, but try to get your hands on some Tintilla- the Canary Islands version of Trousseau.

You can get most of these bad boys at Bellota, so come drink with me. Live Long and Prosper.

Blogged at: My Condo

Soundtrack: Khalid, Suncity

 

Vulcan

 

Lanzarote

 

 

 

Lessons from an Airport

Airports. I’m tired of crying in them. I’m tired of being in them, really. This is the second time I’ve cried in the Santiago de Compostela Airport. This time it’s my fault. It’s raining. I look to my left, another girl is crying. She has someone holding her, though, so it’s probably for different reasons.

All the men in Galicia wear the same cologne.

This is it, the last leg of my trip. I’m headed to Barcelona for three more days and then home. What have I learned? I know how better to drink Gintonics. I know how to get gas, to order food. I can take a coffee, drive a car, kill roaches in a hotel room, buy groceries. I almost learned how to cook an octopus. Could I do all of that already?

In the last two days, though, I’ve learned 4 new varietals, I drank one of them out of a barrel. Yesterday I drank Ferrol out of a barrel with Luis Rodriguez. On Monday I tasted the wine I helped make last year at Fazenda Prádio. Last week I drank Txakoli like a champion and the week before I drank the wines of one of the funniest, foul-mouthed men I’ve met since my Grandma Jan. I’ve stained my hands making Ratafia. I’ve learned about mildew, about vine training, about planting vines on volcanoes. I’ve learned about sulfites and no sulfites and wind and drought. I’ve learned about solera systems, about making barrels and about aging in amphorae. About sacrifice and loss and replanting for the good of the region.

When I get home I’ll learn how to cook that octopus.

Spain is an incredible place. All of the people I’ve talked to, the winemakers I’ve met- each with different ideas but all with the same goal in mind. There is so much happening here I don’t know how many blog posts it will take to relay the message. I hope I’m the right person to do it. I hope a little Picasso and a stroll through El Born will give me inspiration to pull it all together. Otherwise, what the fuck was I doing here?

I think next I will learn how not to cry in airports. It’s so dramatic, really. Wildly unnecessary. A solid waste of time when I could be enjoying a Gintonic.

Perhaps I’ll start that lesson next time. See you soon, friends.

Blogged At: Santiago de Compostela Airport, Galica

Soundtrack: Tensnake 58 BPM

On traveling alone

Traveling alone has its moments. One day you are inspired by adventure, coincidence and improbability and the next day you are getting kicked in the dick. My ex husband told me, after a few months of sobriety, the best thing about being sober is that you have feelings again…and the worst thing about being sober is that you have feelings again. I think this paradox translates to the process of traveling alone. Every day is a new experience I get to feel in its entirety. I get to throw myself out there, to make 100 percent of the decisions, to communicate with people in an area where I don’t even really speak the language. It is one of the most exhilarating feelings I’ve felt as a human being but, no lie, every once in a while it’s hard AF.

Today I miss my dog, I missed my flight and I’m missing my best friend’s 30th birthday. It’s a kicked in the dick kind of day. At the end of tomorrow I will have met up with some amazing friends from San Francisco, I will have seen them dance Flamenco in Sevilla, I will have gone out in a dress for the first time in a month and I will have (hopefully) forgotten about today.

So tonight, while I’m in this twilight zone region of Tenerife South, drinking a Brandy Alexander and eating strawberries, I’ll thank my lucky stars I have friends here in Spain, that I own this absolutely heroic MacBook Pro, that I have a mom that answers text messages and that I’m lucky enough to live a life like this in the first place. Tell you what, though, tomorrow can’t come soon enough. Vale, babies. See you soon.

Blogged at: Grand Muthu Golf Plaza Hotel LOBBY (There’s no wifi in my room:)

Soundtrack: Eels, Fresh Blood

 

 

 

 

 

 

Erin on Spain

The perfect specimen in the photo above is my dog, Kendall, in front of Lake Merritt in Oakland. In the past 8 months, this super fly pit bull and I have probably walked around this lake 100 times. I’ve probably hit play on Beyoncé’s Lemonade album 100 times and, if we are close, I’ve probably texted you in a state of anxiety or trepidation at least 100 times (love you).

Last September, when in a jet-lagged stupor I purchased a ticket to Barcelona, June seemed light years away. In reality, light years really have passed since then. I’ve been to Paris and LA, to Mexico and Palm Springs. I’ve spent quality time with my parents, I’ve seen friends have babies and I’ve watched friends simply slay in the workforce. I’ve been gifted a group of inspiring female co-workers I’m honored to call my family, and I’ve met people on the other side of the Birba bar I’m proud to call my friends. I’ve cried, I’ve watched a lot of basketball and I’ve started writing on the daily. And now, just like that, it’s almost time to fly. In less than a month, I’m headed to Spain with a one way ticket, and It Rains in Spain is about to get really real.

Fear not, I (probably) won’t be gone forever. While I’m there, however, I’m going to hit nearly every major wine region. I’m going to gather all the information I can from winemakers who have been working hard to change the game and I’m going drop this science on you on the regular- a goal of mine from the get go. I’ll be blogging with a vengeance and jamming the ‘gram with photos and videos of everyday life in the streets and the vineyards of España. In addition to the blog, I’ll be starting a full on website, with the intent to not only document my travels, but to get into the more wine geeky stuff like regions and varietals- hopefully in an interesting and approachable way. Needless to say, there is much in plan.

I try not to think about how much I will miss my people, my dog and maybe even the insane cat that lives with my parents. I have a wonderful, solid set of friends I met in Spain last year who will be helping me with housing, friendship and general support. I will take Face Times and What’s Apps and I will send post cards and letters. Most importantly I’ll be back- stronger, tanner and smart as hell. In the words of my amazing friend and boss lady, Angie, who makes me laugh every day- “I’m going on my YOLO.” Plenty of details to follow…much love.

Blogged at: Birba, Mom and Dad’s

Soundtrack: Kanye West, Life of Pablo 

 

Garnatxa Blanca and Terra Alta

Grenache Blanc has never been a favorite of mine. I’ve always found it a little flabby, slightly oily and lacking in the acid department. There is a special place in this universe however, called Terra Alta, Catalunya, where Garnatxa Blanca changes shape (is more fun to spell), and becomes a mineral, salty, slightly voluptuous little vixen that makes you understand why wine is a thing of place, and why we can thank our lucky stars somebody put it there.

Envínate and the Canary Islands

Located 70 miles off the west coast of Morocco, on landscapes that rival an episode of Star Trek, lie the Spanish-owned Canary Islands. It is the most tropical wine region in all of Europe, and boasts having never been affected by phylloxera- that pesky little aphid that destroyed most of the vineyards in 19th century Europe. Seven Islands make up the Canaries, each with its own soil composition and microclimate. It’s likely we’ll talk about every island at some point, but right now I want to talk about the island of Tenerife, and the very tasty bottle of 2014 Envínate “Táganan Parcela Amogoje” I just drank.