This is a Special Posting by Jan Beks, from the Netherlands!
Long after my first wine experience I went on my first trip into a cellar all covered with mildew in the far Eastern part of Hungary. It was my first ever wine tasting, sometime in 1997. Close to the Romanian border and not far from the Transylvanian area where vampires used to haunt humans like you and me. There it was where I would be taken for several wine tastings over a period of two years. I thought I had found my love but instead the only love I found was love for the region’s famous wines.
By the way it was around the same era Teresa (Stacy’s sister) was at arm’s length without me noticing it. Such a small world.
Perhaps that title is a bit too vague; so much for catchy titles! The purpose of this post is to highlight the wines of the Dao Valley, in Portugal. This post is the first of two parts, a story about a special wine in Brasil, in 1982. We will produce the second part after a coming visit to the Dao Valley, in Portugal.
Twenty five years ago I was in Brasil. I was teaching a Project Management class, the first of a series over the next 8 years. I had a great time; I love Brasil and its people. But I had nearly forgotten about one of my most interesting early wine experiences–until it was time to plan a trip to the source of the story. Here ’tis.
The date was 1982. I was at dinner at the Brasilton hotel in downtown Sao Paulo. I looked over the wine list, looking for anything I could appreciate. I saw a lot of very average wines on the list, and nothing that inspired me. I asked the Sommelier, who was hovering over me expectantly, “don’t you have anything that is a little more special?” He puzzled a bit, then smiled, and scurried off. Continue reading “Beat the Dao Jones Average”
This post is about both people and places. Mat Lewis is The Man From Margaret River, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.
Rose and I had decided to visit Australia again. In prior trips, we’d been around the Eastern and Southern edges, and met many wonderful people. This time we wanted to visit the interior, see Uluru (Ayers Rock), and head to Perth, then to Margaret River.
Preparing for the trip, we websurfed to learn more about Margaret River. Already familiar with the wines, especially the Cabs from Devil’s Lair (and their bargain Fifth Leg), and from Leeuwin Estate, we figured we could find some less-discovered wines.
I came across the website for Margaret River Wine Club (no longer available), and signed up on the spot. Immediately I received a gracious response, saying “if we were ever in the neighborhood, to let them know”. I immediately replied that we were on our way there in the next month. That’s when the fun began!
Mat Lewis, the proprietor of the MRWC, had worked with many of the wineries in the area, and ran a creative graphics business as well. He set up for us a range of “insider tours”, then arranged for special accommodations for our last night in the area. Continue reading “The Man From Margaret River”
This post is a rant about restaurant winelist prices. I have long been a critic of some USA restaurants that burden us with overpriced and underqualified wines. Indeed, part of the reason wines have not become a part of ordinary life in the USA is because of the fuss and nonsense restaurants place on wine–unlike much of Southern Europe, where one can have an excellent vin de pays with lunch or dinner for a reasonable price.
To this end, I have long used a guideline (and taught it to many others) that with some exceptions the cost of wine should not exceed 1/3 the cost of the total restaurant check. Do the math: if you and your dinner mate have a nice steak, salad and dessert, perhaps each meal comes to $20-$35 (or more), depending on the restaurant. Thus the wine for two people should be within that price range to be 1/3 of the total bill. Continue reading “Mutant Teenage Ninja Winelist”
We were in Italy, traveling from Florence to Rome; the year was 1983. Before we left Florence, I had spotted a mention of a winery near Montalcino that had a nice mid-day meal. Montalcino is between Florence and Rome, and along the route, so we decided to stop in.
In the center of this great medieval city we saw a little fingerboard sign pointing to Fattoria dei Barbi; we followed the sign. Soon we saw another. We traced our way to the winery via the signs, sometimes doubling back because we had missed one.
Arriving at the winery, we went to the most obvious place for a restaurant, a low, smaller building. Although the door posted hours of Noon to 8PM, and it was 12:30, it was locked. We knocked.