June 2004

June 30

Geyser Peak is the champion of the little guy! Well, it sounds good. And the former head winemaker, Daryl Groom, is a little guy. And the prices make guys with just a little money, like me, happy!

The Alexander Valley Cabernet 2001, for one, is just delightful and quite affordable. And they've always offered great value in Sauvignon Blanc.

Their second label, Canyon Road , has particularly groovy Sauvignon pricing.

June 28-29

The 2000 vintage in California is maligned. Wrongly, it would seem. Ignore most of those reviews, ignore most of the bottlings too, and go straight for the best. They can still be found at bargain prices, because everyone was told to avoid them. The St. Clement Cabernet 2000 for one was bought at a embarrassing price but I won't be embarrassed to drink in a few years when it softens.

June 27

Mrs. Ramirez' restaurant was nearly real Mexican food. It certainly wasn't Sears Mexican food, perhaps more Target. Correct. Commercial in a happy way. But nothing in any of the dishes suggested the pure, simple pleasure of a well-steamed tortilla.

Still, on this trip, Mrs. Ramirez' is the best restaurant we've found outside the big, expensive resort areas. Get the tamales and enjoy the tomato-based salsa, which should be an oxymoron. This version of tomato-based salsa is not just good, but laden with sweet ground peppers, despite the tomatoes, and is truly intriguing.

June 26

Merlino's Belvedere Italian Family Restaurant – what kinda name is that? It's the name of a restaurant in Canon City , Colorado that suggests the history of a fifty year old plus restaurant that has added words to its name like recipes to its menu file.

My kids (wisely?) impugn my intelligence when I order grilled salmon. They're having pasta. I have salmon. It's good, or at least good enough to eat and even enjoy. It's a little overcooked (I'm in rural Colorado , dammit) but still within the realm of tastiness.

There are a few French fries that are cut with the skin on and nicely cooked. The whole thing is in a pool of garlic butter. It's good, but a half hour later I think I've ingested LSD.

Bear in mind that I haven't eaten in twenty-four hours and I haven't slept in forty-eight. One of my daughters was sick and I spent the entire night up with her. I think it was the perfect culinary storm, in a sense.

The food was good. I didn't get any sicker but I felt reeeeaaaallly weird for about four hours after that pile of butter and food. And my kids won't let me live down that I chose the wrong food. Oh, like, daaad, salmon, I mean, duuude, what were you thinking??

June 25

One of the pleasures of driving through small town America is comparing building murals. Please don't think that I am suggesting some superiority in these remarks, but some of these murals are really funny. The town of Stratton has a mural of John Wayne that's so bad that I can't be sure that it actually represents John Wayne. Maybe it doesn't.

What used to be Main Street Café is now Ruby's. The folks at Ruby's made sure we knew that they were not the same as the Main Street Café. Hmm. Seems like the same group, and it's the same pleasant, Sears-kind of Mexican food. And there's always a birthday party there, with a few of the denizens of the retired home across the street. They always have same Christmas decorations. And the birthday party always looks at us like, how did you find this place? But the waitresses are nice and the food tastes canned, er, canned fresh.

June 24

The Telluride Wine Festival is not just a great weekend for me; it's a road trip across Kansas and Colorado with my daughters and their friends. The only people not reading this and considering writing a letter of condolence for me are the folks that live or have lived in those two states.

Junk Town, er, Junction City , was our first lunch spot and Chubby's BarBQue hit the spot fairly well. It's not anything other than good fare, but the sauce is positively Kansas Citian, albeit with a bit too much molasses for the style.

Consider it a good recommendation for road food.

June 23

Gunter Kuenstler creates an embarrassing wealth of great wines, his sterling reputation is belied by his candor, humility and openness. For several years, his Trocken wines have been the benchmark against which all others must be measured, even if certain others make wines as remarkable, or even more remarkable than Gunter's.

His 2003 wines will fool you. They are so well-balanced and focused as to seem small. Indeed, if the reader can allow a far-fetched comparison. I am reminded of Norbert's brilliant Bernkasteler Doktor wines since 2001; people seem to miss how great they are because they are so well-made as to seem smaller than they are.

Fetching far, I know. To compare great and full-bodied, including even Trocken (read more than 12% alcohol) Rheingau Riesling to Bernkasteler Doktor wines has to seem foolish. But Norbert's mind-shattering Doktor wines have not received nearly as much acclaim as they deserve and I've decided that the wines are to blame. They are so well-made, so perfectly poised as to be invisible. Wasn't it Noel Coward who said that the beautiful is always invisible?

So perhaps the accomplishment is even more notable with Rheingau wines in 2003. Judging from the early reviews, the Kuentsler 2003's are too pretty at present for wine reviewers, perhaps, to believe that they will reach for greatness.

June 22

Fritz and Agnes Hasslebach, two people for whom I have great respect and fondness weren't there, but their lovely daughter was quite capable of filling in for them. I didn't have time to taste but that didn't really concern me. Why? I've bought a case of every table wine they made in 2003 and even managed to snag some 2003 Eiswein. I believe their Nackenheimer Rothenberg wines are among the world's most important wines.

June 21

Three of my favorite estates in the entire world were at VinExpo too. Jochen Becker-Koln of Robert Weil is one of my favorite people period – I am delighted to spend even a few minutes in his company. So much the better that he had a group of 2003 bottlings from Weil's superb Rheingau vineyards.

I've bought a case each of the Weil 2003 Kabinett, Spatlese and Auslese (actually, I bought them before I saw Jochen and tasted them) and if you love Riesling, you should too. If you can find them. I know, I know, those sorts of disclaimers are infuriating. But you will have to look to find them, and they'll cost you perhaps more than you expect. But they are still radically undervalued.

Jochen poured me some Beerenauslese and TBA as well. I cannot express their remarkable balance and richness. But them if you're a trustifarian.

June 20

VinExpo in Chicago should have reaped pages of wine tasting notes for me. Sorry. I was too busy with some work to actually taste; and anyway, I hate those sorts of large-scale tastings these days. It's too hard to get around; everyone is so eager to start working a deal that you end up spending thirty minutes tasting two wines. I decided to relax and let the social aspects rule.

Except for a few happy exceptions. Eric Solomon had a new label called Rubens ($8 a bottle – hahahahahah) and Kios, which appears in several price ranges and varietal guises. Avoid the expensive, oak-smothered versions and go for the particular Kios bottlings that retail for less $20 a bottle. The two Tempranillo-based versions I tasted were really fun.

June 19

No such quibbles with a few other bottles: chief amongst them Pommery Louise 1997 and Moet 1996 Brut. The 1996 vintage is sturdy stuff, but Moet is not necessarily a sturdy style. Not that I'm complaining – it means that I can drink this luscious, fat elixir, while waiting for the firmer wines to blossom. The Louise 1997 is as nutty as almond biscuit and very, very compelling. I usually love Louise and I still do in this slightly less age-worthy vintage. I cannot wait to drink it again.

June 18

As of January 1, 2005 , those who participate in this abhorrent practice will have to label said wines differently than their standard wines. It's about time that happened. As of that date, when you see the term “Distribuie par…” you can conclude that the wine in the bottle you are holding was not actually “made” by the house represented by the label on the bottle. Rather, it was purchased without a label, “sur latte” (stored on wooden lathes) and deceitfully labeled.

So perhaps it is a good thing, as Martha may still be saying, that the current Veuve tastes so young. Maybe they have chosen to rush their own wine to market, rather than purchase lesser wine from someone else.

I hope to lay down a few bottles of the Clicquot in the market, give it a few years rest and then open them to see if they have grown to more closely resemble the Champagne I have learned to rely upon.

June 17

The millennium sales for most Champagne houses were both positive and negative. Certainly sales outstripped reasonable hopes; followed by the inevitable 2001 crash, fueled to some degree by a backlash against the aggressive marketing and sales for New Year's 2000.

Under those circumstances, it came as a surprise to all but the sunniest of Champagne marketers when 2002 rebounded like a Superball. And with most Champagne houses requiring two or more years on the lees, responding to low inventories takes at least a few years.

Of course, I wouldn't suggest for a second that Veuve has purchased Champagne sur lattes to answer the market's increased demands. That reprehensible practice is denied by all notable houses, but somebody is doing it, of that we can be sure.

June 16

The return from Scotland brings the questionable demands of a flight of eighty-five sparkling wines and Champagnes for United Airlines. Without revealing any of our decisions (there are further negotiations to go in that arena), there were several notable wines. The first of note is negative in tone – Veuve Clicquot nv Brut continues to disappoint. It seems to me that the severe drama of Champagne 's sales cycles before and following the millennium has wreaked havoc on a few reputations and a whole lot of inventories. I cannot fairly impugn the current state of Veuve Clicquot without noting that: one, it has often been my go-to Champagne if I'm trying to please a group of consumers; and two, it's not that the current product is bad. Rather, it's simply too young, I suspect.

June 15

Rarely has a trip to a wine or spirits producing region gotten so thoroughly under my skin, inside my brain, via my nostrils. But Islay has done it. Much as initial visits to places such as Tequila, Burgundy, the Rhone, Chile, the Mosel, the Wachau, Argentina, Jerez and many, many other sites, have seared aromas and flavors into my visual and social memories of those sites, a glass of Islay is forever a complete representation of a very complex island. Dioramas should always be this succulent.

June 14

And after drinking great Scotch at Bruichladdich, I am convinced that Jim McEwan will do better things there than he did at Bowmore, which is wholly unnecessary. He's made enough great Scotch in his life that what he is now doing at Bruichladdich will enhance an already stellar reputation.

Bruichladdich itself is a study in delicacy on an island that builds whiskies with the subtlety of Mike Tyson at a women's rights conference. And with the whiskies aged on the island (an all too rare occurrence these days), you get to taste the island and not just the peat.

And Octomore is beyond the peaty intensity of Ardbeg, if that seems possible. It is possible, and they do it well.

June 13

I took pictures for days – visiting distilleries that didn't even know I was visiting. It's amazing the pictures you can get when no one knows you're wandering around, sticking your nose into open (or at least unlocked) doors and snapping away.

Just enough Scotch to keep me going. I never had too much, I mean the pour sizes are small so even a half dozen drinks is not that much. I have to work out some work-pay program with Lagavulin about that wall though…

June 12

My arrival on the island of Islay was a jaw-dropping experience. I stepped off of the ferry from Kintyre and froze in my tracks. The smells were a freakish distillation of Ten Year Old Laphroiag, Sixteen Year Old Lagavulin and, well, everything else made on that amazing island. Really. Shockingly perfect smells, a shockingly perfect combination of Islay 's salt, brine, smoke, toast, flowers, ocean, surf, fish, spices and cold, wet earth.

It doesn't hurt that the Port Ellen maltings factory are right in front of you as you step onto dry land. They're busily roasting barley malt with chunks of peat dug out of the earth about two miles to the north.

Yet I have to state this as strongly as I can –I have traveled the world drinking everything I can, from every hillside, hollow and house and I have never had an experience that immediate and complete. I smelled Islay.

Later, after I left the island, I could still smell it in my clothes.

June 11

“Touch me not with impunity” goes the motto of Scotland . What's up with that? As a people they seem to have chips on their collective shoulders. Friday night along Rose Street in Edinburgh can be more testosterone poisoned than a rugby game. In fact it reminded me of a rugby game, with fewer group hugs.

It's hard to grapple with just how remote the Highlands and the Islands have been through much of Scottish history. While British royal life has many moments of Scottish intersection, these moments (Mary, Queen of Scots anyone?) tend to be short, bloody and usually take place in small rooms in towers.

The character of Scotch malt whisky is just as individualistic, if not antisocial. It's best to consume these complex drinks in the dark, by yourself, muttering about everyone else.

June 10

Two drams of Scotch. Oban 14 and Talisker 10. Both of them are beautifully balanced drinks, and age has little to do with it. Or rather, simply saying that a Scotch is better because it's older is bunk. I've had an opportunity to taste Talisker at a number of ages and there is nothing quite like the Ten Year Old for fruity balance.

Talisker's particular character, a flavor I might describe as salty, grassy honeyed lemon flavors, generally shows best at ten years of age. As well, Oban seems to blossom at fourteen years of age, in ways that a twelve year sample can't quite show.

Older versions of Oban can be fascinating but have seemed to me overly woody.

June 9

The service was just as humorless and unengaged, the food just as good and the attention just as personally impersonal. By that I mean, I have to assume they meant to treat us like this. But I look around the room and everyone else is being forgotten too.

To some degree service is what happens to you while you're waiting for service. Nothing of the sort was going to happen tonight. Except for one waitress – she kept smiling for gawdsakes. Smiling, can you imagine, Jeeves? Heavens forfend!

The help disappeared right after hurling coffee cups at us and I eventually (one hour later, I'm not joking) rang the bell for service in order to have an after dinner drink.

The smiling one arrived and happily dispatched me to Scotch land. She cleaned up while making certain we had seconds if we wanted and said thank you.

Finally someone understood, finally someone wanted us to enjoy our Scots holiday and believe that European service was truthful, competent and credible.

She was Australian, here on holiday.

June 8

The food was very good again tonight. I had a pleasant cauliflower and cheese soup (hey, I'm in the UK , ok?) but we started with very savvy amuse bouche again. My first course was a terrine of fresh asparagus, cured bacon, pigeon and woodcock meats. Yeah, shut up and just think about that. And it's all about the freshest flavors. Now imagine it with Dr. Loosen Riesling.

The main was Lamb with more very fresh vegetables. Why are our vegetables so flavorless, and Europe 's are so often filled with character? You already know the answer.

June 7

The wine list was very sharp. There was one (!) American red and it was Dasche Zinfandel. How can you argue against that? I left behind the last of a bottle of Dry Creek Reserve Merlot 1999 (don't knock it because you haven't had it) and Domaine Chandon Pinot Meunier 2000. The Meunier was showing a little beetroot-y, but I figure a Brit or a Scot will like that, so I left that for the sommelier/manager/owner as well.

The next night we ordered off the list and my family is cheap. So forgive my selections. Nonetheless it is proof of the sincerity of the wine program (if not of the wine service) that it was easy to do cheap and be happy. There were lots of very well-selected 2000 Bordeaux for less than $40. But I said cheap, right?

We had a Dr. Loosen 2002 Riesling for $25 and a 2000 Murrieta Selecion for about the same money. What's not to like with this list?

June 6

Amuse bouche – little crunchy pastry cups with local goat cheese, rocket and caramelized onions. King scallops (big bay scallops is all) with very wonderful spring pea puree (there are advantages to being in the UK ) and crispy pancetta. Duck confit and chestnut ravioli with green and white asparagus – yes that was very good. Nothing was over-sauced; if anything, it was under-sauced and that's a compliment.

Entrees of Venison with local vegetables that tasted, well, local. A group of sliced carrots that tasted like white pepper; not like the sweet, gooey things we get. Crumbly-textured baby potatoes. Baby onions that were laden with umami length of flavor and not laden with flavor otherwise – again, they were not as sweet as our root vegetables.

Local cheeses that I promise to report about in greater detail, as soon as I learn the names of the producers. I will have more of that course, I promise that too.

June 5

The starkly beautiful Balcary Bay Hotel is a bit prim. But after all, you're in the UK . Our welcome was non-existent. After waiting for thirty minutes, I found one of the key workers (still don't know who she is) in the kitchen. Where were the owners? It was a Sunday. Her first question was, “did you ring the bell?” Yes, but no one ever came. “Okay”.

I was thinking sorry would be good, but okay will do. The rooms are petite and pretty, the scene remote and charmingly barren in a forgotten seascape sort of way. Maybe two seagulls were out and they were both bitching. I would have as well but it seems like the place called for a bit more silence.

The food was very, very good. Not stellar, mind you, but I'll be back. In fact, I'll be back tomorrow night since we're staying two nights and dinner is included in the price of a room.

June 4

Two cask conditioned beers at a little spot called The Portucullis in the outrageously beautiful town of Stirling. Nicely fried Haddock, the rest of the stuff on the plate was forgettable and two delicious beers. Orkney Islands Dark Island – which was not too sweet, but a little bit Munich Red in character, but les malt, and more sweetness and about the same hops.

The Red Cuillen from the Isle of Skye was a complete charmer – clean and malty and very clean. Did I mention that it was clean? It was very clean and long and tasty. I want to have it again very soon.

June 3

Waiter One returned and continued to insult us. But now he was a happy respite. I tipped him well and we eventually got my brother a salad. Waiter Two grabbed the credit card form from my hand as I signed it to check the tip.

Is service this alien to all cultures?

June 2

La Rusticana is a good example. Two different guides say it's a good place for Italian food or pizza. As I'm in Edinburgh, that ought to be high praise for fun food.

But I guess not. At a minimum the place was funny. The first waiter began by insulting us, as we were only going to buy a few glasses of wine. Then we asked for Scottish beer. Further insults, but in a charming way. My brother orders Moretti. I order wine, and it's house red or white.

Can I ask? Is house red or white not something that died with the dodo? Hey, get over it, you're in Scotland.

My other brother declines to order dinner and says he would rather just have a salad. We're dealing with Waiter Two at the moment and he seems to have a Donald Rumsfield sort of sense of humor.

My brother insists that salad is perfect for him tonight. Waiter Two grabs all of my brother's utensils off the tables, says no and walks away.

June 1

Service is a funny thing. Everyone has strong ideas of what it's supposed to be, but seems unwilling to go to the lengths it takes to accomplish it. Everyone wants to decry its absence, but nobody wants to supply it.

The next few days offered restaurants with more of the same ignorance of how welcome a welcoming attitude can be, especially for tourists in a strange land. Even more disturbingly, we were guided by so-called travel guides. You have to wonder who writes those things. I wonder that they must be art history buffs who fancy themselves travel writers. They may be neither is my guess, and they are assuredly not food writers or restaurant critics.