AnuvaBlog

 Dearest Anuva Fans,

The following email recently came our way:

“I was watching an episode of Wine Library TV. Gary, the host mentioned that he thought one of the featured wines would go well with guacamole.

 Obviously this would depend on what type of guacamole you are using, but I think a wine pairing with guacamole would be very interesting, especially on salty corn chips , and if the guacamole has to heat to it. Avocado to me offers an interesting pairing opportunity because it does not have the taste nor toughness of meat, but shares the fat content. Do you think I should be thinking of pairing Avocado as I would pair a creamy vegetable dish?”

First off I am a fan of WLTV as well. Vaynerchuck offers some great unconventional descriptions and features wines from all over the world and from every price range. He has done several shows featuring wines from Argentina; including a shows on Torrontes and Bonarda. I particularly loved the recent episode “Pairing Wine with Bacon”.

Second I agree that the pairing would depend greatly on how the avocado is prepared. However I think the avocado has a creamy smooth mellow taste, but can be very different from creamed vegetables. (The expression “creamed vegetables” always conjures an image, for me, of Daffy Duck or Yosemite Sam attempting to “cream” a vegetable and the obvious physical jokes that can be played there).

 For a zesty guacamole I would imagine either a nice crisp white like Sauvignon Blanc or Pinot Gris. However for simply an avocado puree on toasted French bread I would select a fuller bodied Semillion. I think the honey floral notes and round mouth feel would only enhance the mellow creaminess of the fruit.

At the same time one of Argentina’s favorite avocado salad’s (ensalada de palta) is just tomato, avocado with lots of lemon juice and salt. This I could see going well with Torrontés even as it has a floral and citric quality to it that would compliment.

If I had to go red I would pick a Pinot Noir for simple lightly salted avocado. I think the soft earthy qualities of the avocado and the wine would compliment each other well. For something with a little more kick I imagine a big Syrah or Tempranillo; a fruity wine that could stand up to heavy seasoning and maybe a little acidity for the avocado to tame.

Certain parties who have recently married have put Anuva Wines to good use. At a recent small wedding where about 55 people were in attendance, about 51 bottles of wine, all provided by us were consumed (this is in addition to the 48 liters of beer and 5 liters of Fernet Branca–the Italian digestif that in Argentina is mixed with Coke).

Clearly, this type of consumption can lead to all types of behavior namely yelling, removal of clothing to music, removal of clothing without music, jumping into swimming pools, and the like.

This got me thinking about the relationship between the amount of alcohol consumed and flavor/quality perception. As we know, wine professionals spit most of their wine while tasting. But of course we want to actually drink the wine from time to time as well. So where does the perception or importance of flavor actually disappear or become unimportant?

In  my estimation the flavor, quality and characteristics of wine can remain important throughout a longer dinner of several courses especially if the wine is specifically paired with different foods and those foods and wines keep changing. I think that the palate, for most people, get’s quite innundated after about 2-3 glasses of the same wine with the same food, and the nuances of flavor and quality fade and the palate fatigues and the brain intoxicates. But if able to serve small quantities of wine with small quantities of food repeatedly, this newness and freshness will keep the palate sensitive and slow down the intoxication process. Of course, if this is what you want

Tom Wark’s blog “Fermentation” pointed out in today’s post that the 3-tier system that governs the vast majority of the alcohol trade in the US severely limits “innovation” and thus consumption.

I’m not sure if innovation is the right word to describe the possibility of progress in the wine world. But the 3 tier system must change especially if small producers are going to be able to get to market easily, and if quality is going to continue to improve in general, across all sectors.

Innovation I think would amount to something like a “softening” ingredient for tannic wines, a substitute for oak barrels or aging, or using milk carton containers instead of bottles. But wine production is thousands of years old and tradition is rich. In another blog today, Steve Heimhoff was talking about 10 things that “gatekeepers” could do to better educate the public on wine. At the top of his list was to not poo-poo screw tops. It seems to me that a rift exists within the wine world.

On the one hand, we have true innovators: people who invent synthetic corks, screw tops, micro-oxygenation, direct to consumer shipping and the like. And on the other hand, the doubters. Not that the tride and true should not be honored and that new innovations should not be questioned rigorously.

Here I find as is so often the case, that wine mimics life: those who push for change will be ridiculed and resisted by those who have something invested in the current way of doing things or simply have drawn an arbitrary line of what they “value” on this side of what’s new or different. Once some critical mass is reached, however, the tables will turn and the iconoclast will become what’s in.

In the particular case of the 3-tier system, a whole lot of legal entanglement, lobbyists, and money stand in the way of freeing the grapes (visit freethegrapes.org). The entrepreneur in me can hardly blame those who have worked hard to set up successful wholesale businesses that simply move wine from one place to another and claim a percentage. Actually, when I think about it, that’s all that any of us do who do not actually produce wine. We just move it around or talk about it.

This whole rosé fiasco has got me thinking about the many other labels/words today that have been banned from import to the EU from the US. I find myself somewhat on the fence on this one.

On the one hand, consumers, whether European or American, should take responsibility for knowing their vendors. If their vendor is dedicated to artesenal practices or mass production, use of pesticide or organic, and that true champagne only comes from the region of Champagne.

At the same time, producers should not be so tied to specific labels only for the sake of marketing. This is where the crossover from yesterday’s post on rosé comes in. Of the latest 15 terms and phrases to be banned from wine labels imported to the EU from the US some should never have been used by American winemakers and wineries (like “chateau” and “clos” which are clearly only used for marketing), some fall into a middle gray area (like “classic” and “fine”–which certainly have meaning in English as well as French), and some, like “tawny” have no sense in being banned whatsoever. Tawny is a color or visual descriptor of anything. Not just wine. In fact, you will notice, that the link I provided has no mention whatsoever of wine or port.

Purposefully misleading consumers and people in general for material gain should be considered criminal, but at the same time, the line that defines purposefully misleading and good marketing is a fine one. After all commercials like the Gatorade one that says that it has “zero PERCENT fat” after saying that it has “zero PERCENT calories” is totally redundant and somewhat misleading. Strictly speaking, one cannot have zero percent calories. Calories are a measure of the energy within a given system: in this case, the drink. But calories can also measure the energy just as well in gasoline as wine, as oil, water and a hamburger. So to day that a drink has “zero percent calories” makes no sense at all. Zero percent of what? There has to be something to have a percentage of it.

That’s why saying that having “zero percent fat” does make sense as it represents part of a whole, measured in either weight or energy (calories).

Wow, tangent.

So take care consumers, to understand your products and purchases, or you will get taken advantage of, and at the same time, marketers, let’s do away with ridiculously misleading sillyness like the complete misuse of scentifically defined terms to make your product sound “engineered” for the body or human being.

Do you know what is scientifically engineered for the human body? Fruits, vegetables, whole grains and things that used to walk, swim or crawl before they ended up on your plate. Shop the perimeter people! (cuz that’s usually where the wine is anyway).

As much as I think a free market philosophy should dominate world trade, boundaries are important. I am worried about today’s news regarding the EU possibly allowing rosé to be made from blending red and white wines, and the French, especially in Provence, are up in arms.

I am not the biggest fan of rosé, nor do I really care that much about how it is made. But in defence of the artistry and integrity of the product and the people who make it, the mix of white and red wine to produce rosé should at least be controlled through labeling. If not, the 93% syrah-7% viognier blend from Las Perdices that I love so much could be called a rosé, and it is anything but.

The practice of mixing together reds and whites is fine, but they should be called red/white blends or rosé blends since their method of production differs so drastically from the production of a true rosé.

In addition, allowing for the white/red blend to enter the market as a rosé, would most certainly dilute the quality of the world rosé market, as I imagine that the majority of wineries that had leftover tanks of white and red, would simply mix some of it together, slap a new label on it, and call it rosé. Far from the idea of planning to make a great rosé or a great wine in general.

Allowing winemakers to enter the market in this fashion certainly does detriment to the winemakers and wineries that hold the integrity of their product above all else. There is certainly nothing wrong with allowing white/red blends to enter the market, but they should not be allowed to compete with “traditional rosé”.

I would venture to argue that the traditional rosé makers be allowed a very specific, controlled label for their product while any white/red blend only be allowed to say expressely that: that it is a blend of two wines made to be separate, distinct and to stand on their own.

Perhaps if a winemaker wanted to specifically create a white wine and a red wine for the creation of a rosé, that could have a separate label as well. But that idea might be a bit complicated for both producers and consumers.

In the weeks leading up to my wedding, the Argentines have kept asking: “But… but, can you really do an asado?” For those who still don’t know, asado is loosely translated as “barbeque” but from what I’ve seen, all the American version and Argentine version have in common is the desire for black lines charred into the meat.

I took it upon myself, to make sure that the 20 or so closest Argentines to me came to witness the meat feast prepared by yours truly in their distinctive style.

Keep in mind, I have done this several times for my fiancee’s family, but doing an asado for 6 is way way different than for 20. Especially when you do an entire “costillar” (the whole rib cage) on the grill. The thing weighed 15kg. And in addition we did a “carre de cerdo” (baby back ribs), chorizo and morcilla.

With Naiara Malbec and Cavagnaro Malbec keeping the masses happy until the meat was done (which took about 3 hours), I realized that we had forgotten to bring our good knife to the quinta where we were staying. The importance of a good knife when prying apart cooked beef ribs cannot be underestimated. So 30 minutes later, with an enormous blister forming on the underside of my right index finger, beef and pork was served to applauding masses. (It is customary to applaud the “asador (grillman)” when he does a good job. Yes, he.

“I’m glad to see you are taking a real interest in our culture,” says my future brother-in-law as I nurse my blister. “What did you do to your finger?”  I reached for the Malbec and never looked back. Loving how the tannins cut the grease and then the grease cut the tannins, we glimpsed a moment of sensory heaven together and this American, for the moment, rose to the challenge.