One of my favorite California reds is a blend called Generations. It’s the flagship wine from Charles Krug, better known for making jug wine since the forties and ejecting Robert Mondavi in the sixties after he had a fist fight with his brother and co-owner. (Peter Mondavi, the recipient of the left hook, still runs Charles Krug and recently changed the recipe for the Generations, which is why I don’t buy it anymore, but that’s another story.) In the bad old days, Generations was a cabernet-based wine that tasted as good as some of Napa’s most famous reds — at about a quarter of the price, probably because of the low profile of the Other Mondavi.

Anyway, three generations of my in-laws celebrated father’s day last Sunday, so I brought over a bottle from the 1997 vintage that I’d lovingly cellared for almost a decade. Tasting it made me think: why do people keep wine? Should they at all?

For how I appalled myself with my own answer, click here: More

Dear Wine Girl:
I’m going to Bandol, France in July and looking for tips on visiting the friendlier wineries. Also, do all of them offer tastings and is it a walk-up-and-pay setup?
Thank you,
Bound for Bandol

Dear Bound:

Wine tasting in the south of France is one of my favorite life memories. In 2002, we spent three days tasting our way through the great red wines of Bandol, located just about an hour’s drive east of Marseille. Bandol is one of my favorite wines: unique, since it is made from 100 percent mourvedre (without the Provence staples of syrah or grenache); burly, because it is filled with the flavors of blackberry, brambles, earth, and to me, a tell-tale note of diesel; and long-lived, since mourvedre has a special ability to stave off oxidation. Except for the exchange rate on the euro, I’m so jealous of your trip.

Quick answer: there aren’t a lot of friendly, much less friendlier, wineries in Bandol — actually, in all of France. But don’t kill the messenger. Click here for the spots that will bountifully reward your perseverance: More

Dear Wine Girl:
What’s a Super Tuscan? How would I spot it at a wine store or on a wine list? And if I’m in a restaurant with a lot of Italian offerings I’m not familiar with, would I be safe to just go with a Super Tuscan?
–Super Italo-Curious

Dear SIC:

Fast and loose answer: a high-quality red from Italy’s Tuscany region that’s styled on French Bordeaux.

More nuanced answer: The Super Tuscan was born when Antinori, a big winery in Italy, tried to boost the quality, reputation, and price of Tuscan wine — at that time, mostly mediocre Chianti. They took the local grape sangiovese, blended it with cabernet sauvignon and cabernet franc, aged it in French oak, and gave it the romantic moniker “Tignanello,” the name of the single vineyard that produced the fruit. (Tignanello also was not made with any white grapes, a dollop of which typically went into traditional Chianti.) With the help of Sassicaia, another red with a similar Bordeaux-style recipe, the new Super Tuscans helped Italian wineries bust out of the Chianti closet and play to the big boys from Bordeaux and Burgundy.

For my sure-fire method of spotting a Super Tuscan, click here: More

Dear Wine Girl:
I hosted a holiday dinner party recently and one of my guests brought a very special bottle from his cellar: a 1986 Château Margaux, in fact, which he’d bought upon release way back when. I was so honored — and so flustered — by his generosity that when we decanted the bottle and I noticed some off aromas, I dismissed them, telling myself that the wine couldn’t be bad. Also I didn’t want my guest to be embarrassed. But more than halfway through our plates of Argentinian carbonada (all of us trying, but failing, to enjoy the Margaux with it) my neighbor finally confessed he thought the wine was “really tannic.” Truth is, it was corked and the meal was ruined. What should I have done?
Signed, Corky in the Wine Country

Dear Corky:
Lots of bad things can happen to a good bottle of wine. My sister in law once ordered a case of artisinal zinfandel shipped to her home in Phoenix, Arizona, which seemed very convenient until the UPS driver left the package on her front doorstep on a 110-degree afternoon. By the time she came home from work, that big zin had boiled up through the corks, seeped through the seals, and puddled all over the bottom of the box. She tried a sample, but it was truly “cooked”: tinny, a little burnt, and just not fresh.

I’ve also tasted wines that are oxidized, which means that too much oxygen has been absorbed into the wine, either because I let it age for longer than I should have, or because it was bottled improperly in its youth. In this case, again the wine will look pale and taste flat and overalcoholic. (That’s because tiny bits of oxygen will soften and eventually erase a wine’s fruit flavors, leaving you with tasteless booze).

But what does it mean when a bottle is corked, and what should you do if this horror befalls you? More

Dear Wine Girl:
I am going to Calistoga in Napa Valley with a friend at the end of the month. We are going to taste white wines because neither of us knows anything about them. We are staying at Solage on the Silverado Trail, and I was wondering if you had any good ideas for whites for us to taste. I want to go to Château Montalena and Folie a Deux. Clos Pegas and Sterling are within biking distance.
Signed,
From Vegas to the Vineyards

Dear Vegas in the Vineyards:

Napa is not the first place one goes to drink white wine, since cabernet sauvignon is king there. But you are right to checkmark the chardonnay at Chateau Montalena, since it helped Napa dominate the famous 1976 taste-off between France and Napa. You can continue your historic-whites-of-Napa tour by visiting Grgich Hills in Rutherford, which was founded by Mike Grgich, the Yugoslavian refugee who was winemaker at Montalena when they won the Judgement of Paris. Grgich Hills’ chards are widely regarded to have epitomized the big, buttery style that dominated California chardonnay for so long.

For the best whites in Napa, click here for more: More

Dear Wine Girl:
Thank you for bringing that rosé wine as a housewarming gift. You told us not to save it, but to enjoy it young and fresh, so we did. We had a friend visiting who is an aficionado and he was really blown away. You told us it a special bottle and that it has a story … can you let us know more about it?
–Your neighbors Mark and Tony

Dear Good Neighbors:

I’m really glad you enjoyed the rosé (and that it got me points with your enthusiast friend!).

The wine was a Bandol from the south of France (Bandol is a fishing village on the coast between Marseilles and Cannes; behind it are some dramatic hills and vineyards comprising the appellation called Bandol.). It’s made by Domaine Tempier, a winery that was discovered and made semi-famous by the Berkeley importer Kermit Lynch. He was the first American importers to appreciate and promote the winery, the region, and the grape (mourvedre) they use to make their rosés and reds. As opposed to most “blush” wines which are generally sweet and made as an afterthought, the rosés from Bandol are dry, refreshing, and serious about themselves as a wine. Plus they’re great with most any food, especially BBQ or roast chicken, any kind of fish, charcuterie, olive tapenade, even watermelon by the pool.

Sometimes you’ll see Tempier’s Bandol rosé in good wine stores (I snagged the last one at Whole Foods yesterday on my way to a picnic!), but your safest bet, as Bay Area guys, is to go to Kermit Lynch’s shop in Berkeley on San Pablo Avenue. (Readers can order online.) My only complaint is that this particular wine has got pricey over the years. With my discount at Kermit Lynch, mine came to $25. Ideally I don’t like to spend more than $15 on a rosé. But Tempier’s, with its distinct blood orange and earthy notes, is worth the exception.

Dear Wine Girl:
I have a big dinner meeting soon and I was hoping to bring something special. What would you think about a 1970 Lynch Bages? (Here are the tasting notes from the retailer I was thinking of buying the bottle from. It’s $299.) If I brought that to dinner would you be sufficiently impressed?
Signed,
Only dates women with “C” in their titles

For my surprising — and cost-efficient — recommendation, click here: More