Oh My God... Am I A Wine Snob?

I start my lectures largely the same way every time. I always lay out the "ground rules" and emphasize that I have no tolerance for wine snobs. You know, the people who know what they like, like what they know and I'll never convince them otherwise. These are the folks who, one: will not be reading this blog, two: wouldn't dream of paying $10 for a bottle of wine and three: think the only good wine out there is from Napa.
I myself have been accused of snobbery, but not in the "I'm going to deliberately try to make you feel stupid and inadequate by using big wine geek words" snob. I'm the dorky snob. I'll admit I've mercilessly criticized a wine list for offering 8 different kinds of California Chardonnay or a dozen Napa Cabs while being totally void of something "global" or hard to pronounce. I'm the kind of drinker that will scroll a list desperate to find something I've never had or even better yet, never heard of. Yes, it is "research" mixed with a little curiosity and a dash of adventure. But does that make me and my ideal list right and everyone else wrong?

I've been on a soap box for the last 5 years. Preaching things like "open minds enjoy more wines" and "don't pass judgment on this wine until you've tasted the food that's been paired with it, blah, blah , blah". I've been hell bent on getting people to taste wines they never normally would, in the hopes that they would discover their new favorite. Part of this mission of developing people's sense of wine adventure included (if not completely encompassed) getting folks to stop drinking anything from California. The point was that California is "safe".  You know what Cakebread tastes like. You've had Grgich a thousand times. There are five cases of Rombauer sitting in your guest room. But that begs the question... So what?
Why does that bother me so much?
Maybe because the common mentality surrounding these wines is that they are the be all and end all of viticulture. Maybe it bothers me because it really doesn't matter what they taste like, as long as they get a good score or the person standing in line behind you at the grocery store is impressed. But again, even that mentality begs the question... So what? Aren't I the poster child for wine tolerance?

Now that I live here, in the land of wines I had come to despise, I realize what it is that bothers me so much. These wines are good, if not great, in spite of the fact they haven't any "real" history.
Napa wines make my job difficult. It's hard to be entertaining when all you have to talk about is "18 months in new French oak" or "hand-harvested in small batches". Borrrring.
Most of the time they don't have a story. With the exception of the occasional "I smuggled this Dijon Pinot Noir clone here from Burgundy in my pants" story, the cultivation of these wines is relatively uninteresting. I can't talk about French settlers from the 1600's or the discovery of the benefits of altitude. There aren't any wars, or diseases or famines that took place. There isn't a Phoenix rising from the ashes. The truth is these wines are magnificent ... just because.
Now, I'm not undermining the determination and diligence of oenologists and viticulturists who tirelessly sought out the perfect areas to plant Cabernet and Merlot and Sauvignon Blanc. I an not saying that there isn't an interesting difference between Cabernets from the Rutherford Bench and ones from the Stag's Leap District. But what I am saying is - that was it. That was the challenge. The where and the what. Once that was figured out... ta-da. Wine. World class wine.

So, after all my preaching, am I in fact a wine snob? I'll stick to my guns and say no. I am an equal opportunity drinker. I love any wine that is balanced, integrated, and complex (although I'm bound to like it more if it has anything to do with scurvy, phylloxera or Capn' Crunch - ala CG Diarie). I don't feel Napa wines are inferior. I do however, reserve the right to still thumb my nose at those folks who proceed to tell me that they will only drink Napa...
There is a whole world of wine out there people. Get drinking.

PINE NUT WARNING!

Generally, I am not an alarmist. There is the rare occasion that I will sound off on a wine that should not, under any circumstances, be consumed (okay, so there's a laundry list of these wines) but this is not one of those postings. This is in fact a serious warning to lovers of pine nuts.
I am a pine nut junkie. I top most everything with a heaping portion of toasted pine nut goodness, so to my surprise, I found that Trader Joe's is selling a huge bag of these little gems for 8 bucks! For those of you not addicted to the pinoles, they normally go for at least twice that for a teeny tiny bag.  Needless to say, I was not leaving the store without this miraculous find.
Fast forward 3 days...
Here I am, professional wine drinker, lover of anything gastronomic, with a constant bitter taste in my mouth. CONSTANT.
Today's menu included a delicious chicken, goat cheese and spinach pizza. Bitter. Salad with mushrooms, salami, olives, cheese, garbanzo beans and tomatoes. Bitter. Sixteen different wines - Lebanon, New Zealand, South Africa, Spain. Bitter. I could go on and on but I'll spare you the rest.
So the hypochondriac fears start to go into overdrive. I've heard about this symptom before... this is how it all starts... I'm going to be a cautionary tale... Internet research goes into overtime. Luckily, the Internet is a glorious world of fellow hypochondriacs, all looking to dispel each others paranoia's - To my relief (and according to WebMD) , I don't have cancer of the mouth or colon cancer. I don't think it's possible for me to have prostate cancer, and I don't take Lunesta. So that narrowed my findings down to this; Several people have reported the same symptoms after having indulged in Trader Joe's pine nuts. 
Coincidence... I think not.
I remember at the time thinking that this was a ridiculously low price for this savory, indulgent little nut. Now, as good humor would have it, I am paying the price for these nuts with every morsel that I consume.
Consider yourself warned.

Now excuse me while I resume choking down my exquisite bottle of 2007 Darioush Cabernet.

The Napa Blues

I haven't posted since I've moved.
I've wanted to... many, many times. There was one thing getting in the way.
Myself.
Frankly, I haven't been myself. Plagued by rain and cloudy skies, the occasional hail storm, and sheer unadulterated loneliness, I have come down with a nasty case of writers block. To be honest, I haven't wanted to do much of anything.
You see, before I moved here I was pretty spoiled. I had a wealth of friends ready, willing and happy to take me out any night of the week. I had a social calender Paris Hilton would've been exhausted by just looking at... and I loved it. It's no secret that I've had a bad year - and these friends not only got me out of the house - they got me out of my head.
When I moved 500 miles away from my touchstones, my anchors, I was lost. So here I am 2 months later, pity-partied out. Today, enough was enough.
No, I don't know anyone here... but I sure as hell am not going to meet anyone sitting on my sofa watching reruns of "How I Met Your Mother". Today, I got off my ass and did something about it.
The first call was to Napa Valley Vintners. Next weekend is the event of the year... Auction Napa Valley. This is where the most prestigious wineries in the Valley offer special lots of wine for private purchase. The Auction is, of course, not to be out done by the myriad dinners, receptions, and private tastings that occur in the swankiest of places over the course of 4 days. I acquired an "all access pass" to this event today. No, I won't be rubbing elbows with Mr. Coppola, or sitting at a beautifully decorated table with Mrs. Heidi Barrett, I will be doing what I do best... pouring wine and talking mercilessly about it. As a volunteer at Auction I am a schleper. I will set up and breakdown tables, lug wine glasses all over a 10 acre resort, pull corks till I have carpal tunnel and love every minute of it. But most importantly, I will meet people. Given the guest list at this brouhaha, I should have some pretty good stories come next weekend. Stay tuned...
As a back-up I also offered my services today to an organization called CASA. Court Appointed Special Advocate. I will be working with children that have become wards of the state. I cannot imagine a better way to spend my time. I realized today, while I was sitting at home alone, that this is my opportunity to give back. For months I was given the gift of preoccupancy. My wonderful friends took care of me and gave me strength and hope. Now, I have the gift of time to offer to someone else who may really need to get out of their own head too.


Bottoms Up,
Katie

Pass The Tissue - This One Made Me Cry

My last post was November... In the months between then and now my life has taken a dramatic turn. For those of you who haven't heard by now, I've been promoted and making a move to the Napa Valley. This should be the highlight of what was the worst year known to mankind and yet I find myself totally unable to enjoy the professional gift bestowed upon me. Why you ask? (Even if you didn't ask you know I'm going to tell you) Quite simply, it's because I recognize what I'm leaving behind. In the last 5 years here in the Coachella Valley I've built a business, a name for myself, and long lasting friendships. In short, I've created a beautiful life. I don't take that for granted. I've been given the opportunity to do what I love on a daily basis and earn a paycheck for it. A platform to spew my passion and "geek out" with other wine-minded individuals. Here, I am an anomaly. There, I am just another sommelier.
So, enough with the "poor little, newly promoted, moving to wine mecca, Katie" and on to the real reason for this post.
THANK YOU.
Thank you to my wine buyers. For being honest with me and not giving me the run around. I've long said to suppliers when they come into town on work-withs that I have the best buyers in the state. You say what you mean and you mean what you say. Thank you for supporting my little, never heard of brands. In a town where Rombauer and Silver Oak are still considered par excellence, you have embraced Cliff Lede and Zolo and Neil Ellis. Thank you for trusting me and my judgement. You will never know how much I appreciate the phone calls where you tell me you need a case of ________ wine and take my suggestion. You have put your faith in me and trust that I want the best for your business and wine list as much as you do.
Thank you to Cooking With Class, Sun City, Canyon Estates, The Citrus Club, Trilogy, and Copely's for giving me the opportunity to share my love with you. You have let me educate and entertain you, and it has been my pleasure. I will miss this most of all. After every event I experience a "runners high" that can only be described as addictive. The energy and enthusiasm that builds throughout the night is infectious. The support and feedback you have given me over the years has made Great Legs Wine Consulting possible.
Thank you to my ladies of wine night. Once a month I am surrounded by the strongest, most gracious, professional women in the valley. Through you lovely ladies, I have been exposed to the Women Leaders Forum, Olive Crest, Shelter From The Storm and Go Red. I truly believe it's because of you that I was among the desert's 40 under 40. I have never known a more dynamic and supportive group of women.
Lastly, thank you to Mindy, Garvey, Kelly and Gary, Nikky, Dar, Jason, Markus ...on and on and on. You have kept me sane, been my touchstone, and fed me copious amounts of alcohol when it was needed most.
Okay, so that's enough mushy stuff to last all year.
Now, it's time to get my cape (and my big-girl panties) on, and tackle my next adventure.
Cheers to the next chapter...

What In The Hell Is A Sommelier?!

At my tastings I encourage questions - and I get lots and lots of them. In my mind they're all valid (no really!) because to me, there's nothing worse than a "wine expert" that won't ask about what he doesn't know because he thinks he should already know. However, some questions are better than others. Hmm, dare I say more intriguing than others. At a recent wine dinner I was asked the greatest question yet...
I was blabbing on and on about quality to value ratios, and seeking out great wines for the price, and finding "hidden gems". Looking back now, I realize how cryptic that must sound. Sorta like a used car salesman saying "just trust me". But until this one night, no one had challenged me to elaborate.
"How do you know what a good wine is?"
I loved this question. I loved it for it's thoughtfulness and it's complexity. I loved it because the person that asked was completely unaware of how profound the question was. I had no idea how good the discussion that followed was going to get.
As I started rattling off a wines' quality criteria, someone in the crowd piped in "yeah, not to mention you like the stuff!"
They were wrong. Dead wrong. But it made for a great segue into the mind of a Sommelier.
I was immediately thrust back seven years ago, tasting and training with the Master Sommelier who became my mentor. There I was, with myriad wine flights in front me, the methods of deduction filling my mind, trying to be so professional. After the first flight was tasted and notes recorded, the question was asked - "which of those was a quality wine?"
I made the mistake of offering up my personal opinion once. Only once.
"Katie Finn, I don't give a good God damn what you think about this wine. This isn't about you. Now, pull your head outta your ass and analyze these wines like a professional."
It was both jarring and enlightening. That was the first time I really tasted wine. That was the first time I understood what it meant to be a Sommelier.
My job wasn't to drink wine like a consumer. My job was to do what the consumer can't. I needed to look at wine subjectively. Was it balanced? Were the flavors integrated? Was it seamless across the palate? Did it have a sense of place? Was it priced appropriately?
Whether I liked it or not was irrelevant. I wasn't the one buying it. All of a sudden I saw the bigger picture. There was someone out there that would like this wine... my job became deciphering whether or not it was worth what the producer was asking and if it made sense on this particular wine list.
Over the years, this concept of keeping my own personal preference away from my profession has become almost a joke between me and my friends. As we have all discovered, what I like will most certainly be the most unpopular wine at any gathering. It seems I have a real affinity for "stinky wine". Now, imagine if the only wine I ever placed on a wine list was wine that I liked? I'd better have a high corkage fee or I'd be out of business really fast. If you've ever been to one of my tastings you'll notice one common thread. Every wine I serve will be diametrically opposed to the last. If I start with a light fresh and crisp white, the next will be a full bodied, creamy oaked white. The method to the madness is simple - if all the wines drink in the same style and you don't like one - you aren't going to like any of them. Everyone's palate is different. Everyone has varying degrees of sensitivity to things like sweet, bitter and salty. My goal is to make everyone happy. Or at least not piss everyone off.
I was lucky. I learned from a Master who truly understands what this title represents. This position exists for people who love wine. It exists so the consumer doesn't get ripped off (ideally). We are matchmakers. We find the right wine for the right person. We save you time, money, and the frustration of another disappointing bottle. We offer up wildly new and exciting bottles from grapes you didn't even know exist. And we will happily give you your security blanket bottle of Cabernet.
I am lucky. I love what I do.
Now, sit back, relax, and just trust me.

Because Cooking Is Good For The Soul..

So I've never posted a recipe before. Mainly beacuse this wasn't meant to be a foodie site, but focused on wine knowledge and the occasional ranting. However, I uploaded a photo of my dinner last night, only because it looked so tasty, and I received several comments requesting a recipe.
So here it goes...

Greek Lemon Chicken with Patates

1 package of chicken thighs
1 package of chicken breasts or drumsticks (whichever you prefer, although I have to say anything with skin and bone is going to be MUCH more flavorful )
6 cloves of crushed garlic
2 tablespoons of butter
1/2 cup of olive oil
Juice of 3 lemons
Zest of 1 lemon
2 teaspoons of cinnamon
1 tablespoon of oregano
Baby red potatoes quartered with skin on ( I count on 2 per person)

Preheat oven to 350 degrees.
Season chicken liberally with salt and pepper.
Heat oil in a skillet and brown chicken on all sides.
Once browned, place chicken in a glass baking dish.

In a medium bowl mix together the olive oil, lemon juice, zest, garlic, and oregano. Mix well and pour over chicken. Top with butter and cinnamon.

For the potatoes:
I quarter them, place them on a baking sheet, drizzle them with olive oil, salt and pepper, and broil them on high while I'm browning the chicken. Once the chicken goes into the baking dish, I pull out the taters and throw them into the dish with the chicken.

Cook in the oven for about 20 minutes or until the chicken feels done. Make sure to baste with pan juices during the cooking time.

I served this with the De Tierra "Tin Man" Chardonnay from Monterey. An unoaked Chard that rekindled my love affair with this poor little bastardized grape. It reminded me of what Chardonnay is supposed to taste like once you strip away all the winemaker manipulation. Gone are the flavors of butterscotch, toffee'd popcorn, hot butter, and toasted hazelnuts. This may sound good in theory, but really people,  do you want your wine tasting like a county fair midway? Hitting your palate like a gallon of maple syrup? I know how wildly popular this style is, and far be it for me to tell someone not to drink what they like, but I just don't dig it. What I crave is crisp and fresh with aromas of Granny Smith apple, Anjou pears, a little flinty minerality... oh yeahh. This winery was just named "Winery of the Year" by the San Fransisco Cronical and Wine Enthusiast Magazine. The winemaker, David Coventry, has an unyielding passion, and a huge commitment to organic farming. He makes a piddly amount of wine, and is obviously not in it for the money or notoriety. Here is a winery without ego or pretense. In case you couldn't tell, I really like these guys.

There you go. Grab a bottle of De Tierra goodness, whip up some Greek Chicken, and tap into your inner Julia.

Here's to your health

This Wine Reminds Me of a Cat O' Nine Tails

Sophisticated and balanced with a hint of pretension.
Elegant and silky with a feminine nuance reminiscent of the old west.
Forward and brazen with a left hook that will leave you speechless.
Seriously? What does this mean?
As an avid "reviewer" of wines, which, let's be honest, means I get to drink for a living, I am continually perplexed by this verbiage. Don't get me wrong, I love it, but it confuses the hell out me. I look at it this way: wine is a lot like art and music. It is plagued by critics trying to one up each other in a verbal assault of describing tangible items in a way that sound human and mysterious.
I'm guilty of this too. I've been known to describe certain Napa Cabernets as "teenagers at prom ready to give it up on the first date". Not the most tactful way to describe a wine, I know. But you get the point.
Words like fleshy, sexy, demure, and overt are a wine writers way of reinventing the wheel and keeping it interesting.  Who wants to read the same old descriptors of New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc over and over? Gooseberry, cat pee, fresh grass, blah, blah, blah. How many times can one read (or write) about caramel, butterscotch, and toasted oak? The flavor profiles haven't changed - the times have.
But back to the question - what does a "sexy wine" mean? How does wine "dance across your palate?" It's so hard to interpret descriptions that have nothing to do with fruit. How would you describe an apple? Would you say it was crisp and tart with a little sweetness on the finish. Or would you say it was sassy and flirty with a voluptuous side. Are they one in the same? I am told more often than not by people clearly frustrated with a nouveau wine culture, that they don't know how to "talk wine". They can't relate.
In this profession, I made it my mission to make wine less confusing, more approachable, easier to understand. Does that mean what I say then has to be boring or predictable? I think we can have it both ways (pardon the pun). Nothing says we can't get frisky with our descriptors as long as we can back it up with something quantifiable. As long as we're not turning wine writing into the equivalent of  Fredericks of Hollywood without real knowledge to back it up. A bra stuffed with toilet paper will be discovered eventually.
At my tastings, as much as I put on a show, most of my entertainment value comes from true historical facts that I couldn't possibly make up. I told a story the other night about "Sarah's Vineyard" and Marilyn Olsen. Before this woman could sell her winery in 2001, she had to embark on an emotional three day vision quest, in a teepee, to grant permission from spirits, to sell the joint. Honestly, with a story like that, who needs to use naughty words to captivate?

While I'm on the subject, it should be said that, while writing this I'm drinking an Argentine Malbec that's one part Dolly Parton, one part J. LO. Figure it out.
Cheers!