EAT WINE

Por Liz Caskey

Frambuesas. Guindas. Cerezas. Frutillas. No estoy hablando de las frutas más queridas del verano sino de los aromas de ciertos vinos tintos. Ultimamente, he tenido mi nariz metida en diferente ocasiones en copas de vinos que suelen ser el Pinot Noir o el Carmenere. Me encantan sus notas aromáticas de frutas rojas: jugosas, levemente dulces, besadas por el sol. Una seducción total al olfato. Después de tanto coqueteo con la copa, me acordé de una de mis recetas favoritas que combina estos vinos tintos sedosos con el frescor de las frutillas, que están actualmente en su “peak”. Es una receta facíl y rápida de preparar, incluso se puede hacer todo un día antes. Los sabores están marcados y equilibrados y a mi juicio, es quizás la mejor forma de “comer vino”. No salten la guarnición, las notas verdes le dan el toque a este postre elegante pero sencillo. Para una presentación que impresiona, pueden servirlo en las mismas copas de vino. Salud!—o buen provecho.   

Frutillas maceradas en Salsa de Vino Tinto con Crema Fresca
1 kilo de frutillas, limpias (sin tallo verde) y cortadas a la mitad
1 taza de vino tinto (Pinot Noir, Carmenere o Merlot, un tinto suave pero con algo de cuerpo)
2 tazas de agua
1 taza de azúcar granulado
1 pote de crema espesa
½ bolsa de crema ácida
Menta o albahaca cortada finamente en hilos para guarnición (para los más aventureros, la albahaca es una combinación inusual pero combina muy, muy bien con las frutillas. Pruébenla!)

1. Combinar el vino tinto con el agua y azúcar en una olla. Hervir el “jugo” suavemente sobre fuego mediano-alto hasta reducirse por la mitad durante una hora aproximada (Debe ser un jarabe dulce con sabor a vino). Retirar del fuego y dejar enfriar completamente. Refrigerar.

2. En un bol, combinar las dos cremas bien. Guardar en el refrigerador.

3. Para armar el postre, en una copa de vino colocar las frutillas preparadas y cubrir hasta la mitad con la salsa de vino. Luego, con una cuchara de sopa, ponerle una cucharadas de crema encima de las frutillas y espaciar con la menta o albahaca en hilos.

      Michael Schachner of Wine Enthusiast in his article "Chile's Fresh Faces" (November 1, 2005 issue), recently profiled Chile’s newcomers, many boutique-style vineyards, who are favoring quality-driven wines and whose first vintages were all in this millennium. The “fab five” cover different wine valleys in Chile’s central region, a couple of which even qualify as "garage" wineries with very low quantities and yields. The next time you want to try some inspiring Chilean terroir in a bottle, I recommend getting your hands on some of these gems. And if you are in Chile, try to visit them (our wine tours visit several of these!) With further delay, Ladies and Gentlemen, the “fab five”:*      

Altair Vineyards and Winery (www.altairwines.com): The investment of the Laurent Dassault family in Bordeaux and the mammoth-sized wine powerhouse Viña San Pedro (responsible for Chile's own "Two Buck Chuck", otherwise know as Gato Negro). Located in the Cachapaol valley, one of Chile's newest wine appellations producing particularly good Carmeneres, Altair’s first vintage was in 2002. In addition to the premium wine Altair 2003 (94 points) US$60, a rich Bordeaux-style blend that is world class, they also produce a lower line Sideral 2003 (excellent price-quality ratio, 91 points), US$30.

Caliboro Estate (www.caliboro.com): Located in the southern wine region of the Maule, owner Count Francesco Marone Cinzano (heir to the Cinzano vermouth fortune) fell in love with the land and transplanted his family from Italy to Chile. The first vintage was in 2001, an excellent vintage by Chilean standards, with the help of expert local Chilean winemakers Augusto Reyes and Andres Sanchez. The production of the 2001 vintage only came to 1,200 cases but there is capacity to increase production. The result is Erasmo (88 points) US$30, a blend of 60% Cabernet Sauvignon, 30% Merlot, and 10% Cabernet Franc, fresh with less concentration but still compelling.

Matetic Vineyards (www.mateticvineyards.com): Located in the tiny San Antonio wine valley, only 20 kilometers from the wind blow Pacific coast, Matetic and its sleek gravity-flow wineries, have been pioneers in what is quickly becoming known as Chile’s cold weather wine valley since their first vintage in 2001. Cool maritime breezes, cloud cover, rolling hills, and the right soil have turned this into prime terroir for producing their outstanding line of EQ: Syrah 2003 (91 points) US$25 smoky, sensual and very masculine; 2003 Pinot Noir (86 points) US$25 mineraly, black currants, slightly peppery, a different kind of Pinot; and 2004 Sauvignon Blanc (88 points) US$15, with fresh melon and citrus flavors and such a crisp acidity that you hardly notice the high alcohol (14.6%).

Kingston Family Vineyards (www.kingstonvineyards.com): On the far western edge of the Casablanca wine valley, the fourth and fifth generations of the Kingston family (whose family originally came to Chile at the turn of the century in search of copper and gold), with the expertise of Byron Kosuge (former winemaker of Saintbury in California) are producing small quantities of high quality Sauvignon Blanc, Pinot Noir, and Syrah on their 200+ planted hectares. The wines are, in a word, outstanding. You can order them via their mailing list to be shipped anywhere in the US via the website. Cariblanco 2004 Sauvignon Blanc (90 points), US$15: citrus and lush melon but also an earthy component, perhaps from the natural yeast. Alazan Pinot Noir 2004 (89 points), US$30: Lush black cherries with a rich almost brawny background, earthy, and toasty flavors. This for me, was love at first sip. Bayo Oscuro Syrah 2003 (85 points) US$28: A wine with character, whether you like it or not. Violets, berries, and a lovely lingering peppery note. (Personal note: Wine Enthusiast didn’t seem to dig this wine. I personally liked it. Palates are subjective, keep this in mind!)

Odfjell Vineyards (www.odfjellvineyards.cl): Who would have thought that a huge international (Norwegian) shipping company would become one of Chile’s most interesting newcomer wineries? Well they have--and are causing a buzz. They turned the land purchased in the Isla de Maipo (Maipo Valley) west of Santiago from an orchard into a vineyard, with Laurence Odfjell, overseeing the business (he also is an architect who designed both their gravity-flow winery and Matetic Winery’s). Employing some interesting new technologies like whole-cluster fermenting (you don’t crush the grape, the wine is cold soaked and macerated), the unfiltered wines, all reds, offer lots of fruit, manageable tannins, and good prices. Here are the stars: Orzada Malbec 2003 (91 points), made with grapes from Curicó, US$18; Orzada Carmenere 2003 (90 points), from the Maipo valley US$18; Orzada Cabernet Sauvignon 2003 (89 points), from the Colchagua Valley, US$18.

*All the wine points and prices are quoted directly from the Wine Enthusiast article

 Another weekend, another asado. Such is life in Chile in the summer. Asados, otherwise know in English as barbeques, are much more than grilled meat and outdoor eating here; they are a full on event and social ritual.  
            We were invited over to our friends’ new house on Saturday night for an asado/housewarming party to put to use their brand new patio with the beautiful late spring weather. When we arrived, the fire was still being “staged”, with Pisco Sours in hand. I should interject here that in Chile, there are virtually no gas grills used like in the US. In fact, I have been called “crazy” or “uncreative” by even suggesting their use or superiority in an asado. There is a major cultural difference in that barbeques in South America are actually made with wood or carbon, which in all fairness, do infuse a more complex flavor into the meat if prepared correctly. “Making” and “taking care of” the fire also turns an asado into a cultural ordeal with the men strategizing the best way to get the fire going, maintaining the temperature, and of course, cooking the meat to perfection (with or without any previous experience, of course). The gals are usually exiled to the kitchen for the salads or to make drinks.
             In this instance, there was no vessel for the barbeque such as a metal drum or actual asado equipment, only several cement blocks whose parameter made up the fire pit over sand. In the bottom of the pit, carbon and recycled wood from the demolition (80 years old they assured, extra flavor) was put with a wine bottle encased in old newspaper. They removed the bottle (which retained the shape) and lit the newspaper, which slowly burned igniting the carbon and wood, eventually creating glowing, red coals. They stacked a couple extra cement blocks to get the height needed for cooking and then popped on some chicken skewers and famous chorizo, or spicy pork sausage. Everything looked okay at this point so the party went on autopilot.
            30 minutes later, the first round of food is ready: the skewers and choripan, the chorizo eaten inside marraqueta (baguette-style bread) with (or without) mayo. Everything is delicious. The meat and chicken in gringo-style barbeque sauce (my offering to the festivities) were then added to the grill. I noticed however, as the wine drinking increased, that the fire seemed to be slowing down and our grill master had disappeared. After another 30 minutes of negligence, the fire had stopped giving off any significant heat and people, now very hungry, were wondering when dinner would be served (sorry guys, no time soon). Our friend, the host and grill master, decided that an emergency procedure would be needed to resuscitate the fire from its desperate state. He removed the grill (a simple oven rack) and two of the blocks. He disappeared to his photography studio and returned with a huge fan which he plugged in. He then turned on the fan full blast, trying to generate enough air (more like a wind storm) to get the flames going again over fresh wood and carbon. Now, this could have worked in theory had the fire been confined to a cement jail cell. What wasn’t calculated was the huge pile of wood directly behind the pit which promptly almost caught on fire (as his fiancé freaked out). Mission aborted. More wood was needed for the fire so one of the invitees, with cigarette and red wine balancing in one hand, decided to hack at a piece of wood into splinters. I was cringing hoping to avoid calling the firemen or ambulance at this point.
               Next, a sushi fan was brought out which between 5 people (now all suffering from carpal tunnel syndrome) fanned like hell for 15 minutes to get the flames and charcoal glowing. It worked--somewhat. Enough to half-cook the chicken and some of the steak. The solution our grill master decided was to lower the rack to bring the meat to roughly 1 inch from the flame to cook faster. Uh-oh. At this point, now midnight with growling stomachs, I motioned to finish searing the meat in a fry pan and roasting it in the oven. There was no way a 1.5 kilo chunk of meat (not cut down into smaller steaks) was going to finish cooking before 7am. I mean, come on!, the ritual aspect was gone, hunger ruled, and we had a working stove and oven over this makeshift pit. I was outvoted—the asado must go on. His fiancé insisted we sit down to start in on the delicious salads she had been preparing.
              As we dug into the salads, the grill master appeared, smiling, with a large wooden cutting board, and a singed, black piece of meat. He proudly announced, “See? The meat is finally done”. As he cut into the meat, he described the magic of its perfect doneness as the special salt crust (he roughly poured a ½ cup directly onto it; people with high blood pressure please pass). As he continued to cut, the meat was juicy and pink but as the first slice came off, was so pink, it looked raw. Why! It was totally uncooked in ¾ of the center! An argument ensued among the men at the table about the doneness and their wimpiness for not wanting to try it in that state (from a culinary perspective, it was absolutely uncooked, not even rare doneness).  I passed. The meat, after much debate, was returned to the grill to finish cooking.
               Many bottles of wine later, a delicious French apple tart for dessert and coffee, I happened to notice through the sliding glass door on the patio that the poor piece of meat, an unassuming casualty of the asado, had been forgotten and was still smoking over smoldering coals. Laughing out loud (this was comical at this point), I pointed this out to the hostess, who had lost her patience, and yelled at the grill master, “Look at that (pointing to the fire)! You did it again!!!” Apparently he is a serial steak murderer, having killed another one, to her horror, at an asado the weekend before with her family. Opening the door, the fire with a horrible stench, I was sure that the neighbors had already called the fire department.  The grill master, defeated and slightly drunk, stumbled out to the fire pit and tossed sand over the ashes. The asado saga had ended.
               So, next time when people here call me crazy for wanting to use a gas grill, I think I will just have to tell them this story. Some steak for thought.
           

Here’s the deal on the Abs Diet. You eat a lot, every 3 hours. You never should be hungry. There is no portion control—you oversee that. Eat until you are satisfied. Since the foods are high-protein, high-fiber you will fill up quickly and not get hungry for hours (remember anxiety is mental, not physical. You have to learn to decipher body signals).

The cheat sheet for the Abs Diet is:
Almonds and other nuts
Beans and legumes
Spinach and lots of non-starchy vegetables, especially green ones
Dairy (fat-free or low-fat milk, yogurt, and cheese)
Instant Oatmeal (no sweetener or flavor)
Eggs
Turkey and other lean meats and fish
Peanut Butter (homemade with Canola oil, no sugar or salt or preservatives)
Olive oil
Whole-grain bread and cereals
Extra-protein (whey) powder
Raspberries, berries, and other low Glycemic Index fruit
Some tips:

• Keep the booze to 3 drinks per week and if you are going out on a big night, try to hit the gym the day of
  
• You can cheat once a week for one meal—eat anything you want.
  
• Exercise: don’t skimp on this. At least 30 minutes 3-4 times per week. More if you want to see faster and dramatic results.
  
• Off limits, as in don’t even think about buying them and if you already have them in your cupboard, ditch them NOW: refined carbs like white flour or sugar or with a high Glycemic Index, saturated fats (butter is out), trans fat (margarine or those evil hydro oils), and high-fructose corn syrup. Beyond the calories, this stuff is clinically shown to be bad for your health.
  
• Learn to read labels: all those “light”, “low fat”, “low carb” stuff is usually chock full of chemicals or the off limit components above.
  
• Eating in smaller portions every 3 hours is the ultimate weapon for your metabolism. You will rev it beyond belief. To burn calories you have to eat!!! But eat wisely and frequently.
  
• Smoothies are the man!! Mix fruit, yogurt, whey, low-fat milk and ice for a dessert-like breakfast, meal, or snack. I even use low-fat chocolate milk with the peanut butter, fat-free vanilla yogurt and whey for a PB Brownie healthy version.
  
• In 2 weeks you will start feeling different; in 4 weeks you will see the difference; in 6 weeks the Abs will be appearing.
  

      In the food and wine world, this word tends to elicit a fair amount of light jokes, chuckles, or even eye-rolling. There seems to be a common consensus among chefs, restaurant and food critics, wine writers, and other gastronomic/wine professions that if you conceive the world via food that somehow it is a virtually impossible feat to eat healthy and stay in shape. There are just too many temptations.
     I was recently at a wine event (a book launching) where one of the presenters told an entertaining story about how a recent college graduate could aspire to become a restaurant critic. One of the points that caught my attention during his story was that he advised this aspiring food critic that in addition to wanting to learn and write about food, he must also be prepared to gain many extra kilos in the process. It left me thinking about why there is a seemingly inherent incompatibility with loving food and wine and staying fit. Does being a gourmand automatically mean that you have to be destined to be fat or flabby—with a highly trained palate of course? Why does the pleasure of the palate have to translate to gluttony, unhealthy food, and lack of control? Why doesn’t the balance of eating well and exercise enter into this equation? After all, isn’t balance what creates a magnificent plate or grand wine? 

    I am a confessed and known health conscious eater and exerciser. Here in Chile, they call me “obsesionada” or “excesiva” with getting up to work out or go to yoga at 6a.m. or passing on the bread (Chileans are carb junkies).  However, my personal experience is that balance—eating healthy and exercising—makes everything, and I mean everything, taste better. Ever try a juicy, sweet mandarine orange after a hard workout? The flavors are pure and intense and go straight to your brain. Crunchy arugula salad with roasted chicken and a drizzle of top quality olive oil. Am I suffering with diet food? No way. Eating healthy is simply the opposite end of the spectrum of all those rich, fatty, gourmet treats I love. You know them: foie gras, paté, stinky French cheese (or high test cheese of any kind), dark chocolate, thai curry, Oaxacan black mole, lamb saag, pommes frites, rich gelatos, cashews, eggs Benedict, peanut butter, mashed potatoes and gravy, the list goes on and on. However, I find if I eat them all the time, I tire of them quickly because they are so rich. The secret to these “goodie” or “specialty” food items is to eat them in small quantities or infrequently so that they never loose their mystery or "food appeal". And when you do try them, wow!, the textures and sensations are more intense and "new".This also applies to eating fresh, delicious vegetables, fruits, whole grains, etc. which make your body feel good. It is important for us gastronomic and wine professionals to not loose sight that the palate is only the entrance for food to our body—and that taste is fleeting. The body assimilates everything we put in it—just like a drug.                                                                                   

     Diet, that is, what you usually eat and drink, has a profound effect on how you look, feel, think, and act. I went through a couple years of looking for some magic formula that would work perfectly for me: Atkins, Fat Flush (you only flush the toilet with this one), South Beach, Low Fat, High Protein, Vegetarian (yoga-induced), etc. Fad diets come and go and did some produce great results. However, the best “diet” I have found, which is more like a moderation lifestyle or diet in the true sense of the word, is the Abs Diet (www.absdiet.com). It is the best way to stay in shape, keep your taste buds amused and waistline under control. It works because its principals are based on smart eating (the kind that all personal trainers preach) and you can still eat all the goodies in moderation.  And of course, I cannot emphasize exercising enough: walking, running, gym, biking, yoga, anything you want, just get off your butt and move it. Calories are like a bank account, but in this case you want a negative balance!! If you try to find the balance, I guarantee you will savor those red, ripe cherries in their maximum sweetness as much as that creamy and pungent chevre with a Sauvignon Blanc. More on the Abs Diet for those interested in the next post.

   It is 10:30 p.m. and only two of my 13 guests have arrived. The invitation stated 9:30 p.m. very clearly as the time that the party would start. Everyone invited RSVP-ed that they were coming. “So why are they all so late?”, I grumble to my boyfriend and two other friends who arrived on time. I look at my margarita glass nearly empty (again). At this rate, by the time the rest of the crowd rolls in, I will be wasted from just waiting for them to arrive.
   Throwing dinner parties in Chile as an expat has been, quite frankly, hell. Not that I don’t actually enjoy the parties or the preparation but there are a few cultural factors that even after many years living here still are hard to swallow: unpunctuality, false acceptances of invitations, or worse, the endless bag of excuses of why someone couldn’t make it and never called. If committed in the US, these would be the ultimate social faux pas. The offending person would be blacklisted; ostracized; absolutely confronted about the absence. In Chile? People say nothing at best and let it pass off as no big deal. Well, I am tired of acting like it is no big deal. In fact, I have had it, the colmo, as we say in Spanish. Let’s go item by item to understand this veritable cultural phenomenon that has me perplexed and stressed when I want to have people over for dinner.
    Unpunctuality. Latins in general are not exactly known for being “on time”. Chileans, however, tend to be far more punctual than others, although there does seem to be a superseding notion of lack of respect for the other person’s time and effort by arriving consistently at least 15 minutes late for everything. This manifests itself for appointments of all sorts, including business meetings, so imagine how it translates to the social scene. In Chile, for social engagements it is considered rude to actually arrive on time; even worse, early. The rule of thumb is to usually add 30 minutes to the time stated on the invitation. I now have adopted the habit of asking, half laughingly but totally serious, if the invitation is Gringo or Chilean time. The difference is huge. The night of the my Mexican dinner party, the rest of the guests did turn up—but not before 11p.m., the last one arriving at 12:30a.m., or three hours late. At no time did the phone ring with any one of them saying, “Hey, I am running late, I will be there in 30 minutes.”  I was bowled over by their lack of timing and courtesy. I had cooked all day!
   Another common happening in many dinner parties is people accepting invitations knowing very well that they cannot nor wish to attend. This baffles me beyond comprehension. As one Chilean friend explained to me (as I was in a rage), “Liz, people here do not want to hurt your feelings or create a conflict. They feel like you want to hear a yes, so it better to accept and then not come, rather than turn you down to your face.” Say what? Hmm... Somehow a polite no doesn’t seem to be nearly as rude as flat out not coming. From the stand point of the hostess, this rationalizing is ridiculous as obviously other people could have been invited who actually would have come. If there are any Chileans reading this, pleeeeasssse, just learn to say no. Really. It is infinitely more rude to accept and be a no-show than to be honest from the get-go. A lot of thought and planning go into a good party and if invited, it is because some truly wants you to come. Show some respect regardless of your answer. I know not all Chileans behave in this manner, but unfortunately, there are more than a few who do.
     Finally, a subcategory of the above topic: people who accept and always have an “escape route”. What do I mean by this? They accept with some amount of a bona fide intention of attending but always have a well thought-out excuse ready if something better comes up. Dinner party commitment phobia? Maybe. In Chile, I have seen a pattern that these excuses are almost always sensitive issues, like family, personal, or health-related issues. Why? Think about it. It is difficult to reproach someone for not coming (nor calling to say they couldn’t make it). In my experience, it can even work against you if not handled expertly. You, yes you, will be cast as the insensitive bad guy because you didn’t ask nor act understanding of their situation and know it would have been an impossible feat for them to advise you of their absence. Of course emergencies happen. Everyone knows and understands that. However, when it happens 3, 4, or 10 times, it seems to be more than coincidental.
    How do I now protect myself from these dinner party woes and still manage to have a good time? I am currently  creating an “approved list” of friends and colleagues who are trustworthy and have proven their dinner acceptances. However, I still have some flaky friends that I enjoy seeing from time to time. I guess if I really want them to come, I have to take the calculated cultural risk and incorporate it into the planning. And worst case scenario? As in, everybody confirms and nobody comes? Well, to be truthful, that has never happened here. And if it does happen someday, after my initial rant, I probably will enjoy having all the leftovers for the next week.

         Alan York, Biodynamics master-extraordinaire looks in his mid-50s. He has thick, shiny, silver hair cut  stylishly, framing his tanned and weathered face with tiny, piercing eyes. His voice sounds youthful with speech that is paused and thoughtful. There is something slightly hippie in the way he pronounces and lets the words roll off his tongue that makes me imagine him in 1970s California saying “Peace Out”. In actuality, he is a hippie. He is a wine hippie. He is bringing winemaking back to nature, or at least that’s what he’s trying to do.
            Earlier this week, a select group of journalists and wine-related personalities in Chile were invited to the eastern end of the Aconcagua Valley, 1.5 hours north of Santiago, by Viña Errazuriz to check out the latest happenings of its premium icon wine, Seña, which has enlisted the help of Alan York in giving a total facelift to its winemaking philosophy. Here we got to tour the vineyard, meet Alan York, enjoy a swish picnic on top of the terraces with a fabulous view of the entire valley, and of course, try the famed Seña.

A Crash Course in Biodynamics
       Biodynamics is often thought of as the first cousin of organic winemaking. Its name is derived from two Greek words: “bios”, meaning life, and “dynamic”, meaning it expresses energy. Its basic philosophy, as put by Mr. York, is “having a hand fit in a glove”. At a glance, Biodynamics seems to fall somewhere between hocus-pocus, black magic, niche marketing and a ritual and faith-based horticultural process. It was created in the 1920s by the Austrian Rudolph Steiner.
     The overriding principal of Biodynamics is that each vineyard is a live being and has its own individuality. No doubt here we can jump into the on-going discussion on the authenticity of wines and that abused and over-used word, authentic. I am going to save that debate for later in the piece. For now, let’s give Biodynamics the benefit of the doubt. To rapidly paraphrase, based on the four elements (air, water, earth, fire), Biodynamics seeks to find balance and harmony for the vines in their natural environment, aligning agricultural practices with the cycles throughout the year and symbolic components such as the fertility of the cow and other herbs. The final objective is to create a wine that is the most natural and singular expression of the earth where the vines are grown, not unlike the A.O.C. in France, or the “Estate wines” in the New World. The vineyard must follow the strict agriculture rules set forth by the Demeter Association for 36 months in order to be certified as a Biodynamic vineyard (and wine).
      During our visit, Mr. York explained and showed us a demonstration of Preparation 500, one of the various “rules” (or rituals, as I would call them) in Biodynamics. Preparation 500 prepares the soil to fertilize the vines. Basically, cow horns (of a female cow, which are considered “sacred” in Biodynamics) are filled with cow manure and buried curved-side downwards in the most fertile patch of soil on the property (in this case it was in a ravine/oasis) on the spring equinox. Okay, I will admit, I was suspicious at this point. Spring equinox? Sacred cow horns? Cow dung? It gets better. To prepare the fertile manure, which is dug up at the fall equinox, you must hollow out the cow horns and then stir the cow dung around in a vortex motion; that is, a rhythmic circular motion for an hour. This is then diluted with water and spread around the vines. Why a vortex? Well, this is how the energy of the universe circulates and creates matter so since the point here is to infuse energy (life force) and levity into the soil, this is considered key.
       As I listened to Mr. York explain the different “preparations”, I got more and more skeptical; this seemed to border on an existential philosophy lecture in college. He spoke of polar sprays, life forces, cornucopias, expressions, energetic levels, all of these fine tune those little grapes to not need intervention in winemaking, supposedly harmonizing all the internal chemistry so as to not need yeast, sulphurs, etc. Hmmm... I will say that his passion and knowledge of the material was impressive but however, now a non-believer, I just couldn’t take it at face value. All I kept thinking was, “So how will this new, improved, Biodynamic Seña taste? What is Biodynamics really going to do to the wine? We there be a palatable difference? How do we know that is Biodynamics?” Good question(s).  

The Debate on “Authentic” Wines
            Before continuing, I want to interject this worthwhile topic on the debate surrounding “authentic” wines. It is quite relevant before I plunge into how this applies to Seña. This first run-in with Biodynamics definitely raised my eyebrows with suspicions as it rests more on the stars than on science. It also reinforced the undying presence of these buzz words “real”, “authentic”, “natural”, “hand made”, “traditional” that keep reappearing again and again in the wine world.  So what does this “back to nature” call really mean? Wine is being “less” intervened than before? I read an interesting recent post by wine blogger, Huge Johnson, that sustains that if it wasn’t for man intervening in the winemaking process, all we would have is vinegar. That’s all nature makes. He asserts that these recent claims for authenticity are in part from demand from consumers wanting assurance as to where there wines are coming from and how they are made. This is also known as Marketing. These tendencies to “return to nature” didn’t really appear in the wine industry until the mega multinational wine companies began to emerge.  He continues on in the article probing the “industrialization” of wine and what that means for the supposed magic and uniqueness (like the “art” and terroir concepts) of winemaking.  It is a great worthwhile read; for full article continue here.
            So are there any “authentic” wines out there? Yes, I think so. I find that they are usually the small producers. Those garage or small wineries that make their wines by hand; trying to define and express their terroir. It has just become blurry to define which are the ones that are purely well-marketed versus the ones that are truly well made. Remember, biodynamic wines don’t guarantee good wine, but they are always authentic I suppose. I am interested to see what the 360 degree spin in Seña’s winemaking philosophy will produce. It is a big gamble. The larger question though—is it quality or market driven? Or both?

Seña is leaving its Sign
     For those of you not entirely familiar with Seña, let’s start with a little background on the winery and its wine. It is, after all, one of Chile’s finest. Seña in Spanish means a distinguished personal signature. It is considered the first “luxury” wine in Chile. Back in the 1980s, when Robert Mondavi paid a visit to Chile, he saw the potential for Chile to produce world class wines. Later, in 1995, Mondovi formed a partnership with Viña Errazuriz, one of Chile’s traditional, historic wineries, to make Seña as their “icon” wine. Last year, Mondavi cashed out after the huge Constellation Brands buy-out and Seña became full property of Errazuriz, under the leadership of Eduardo Chadwick.
            The vineyards are located to the north of Santiago, in the Aconcagua Valley. In particular, Seña lies in a micro valley that gets a fair amount of fog, only 41 kilometers from the Pacific Ocean. This means that the temperatures are lower than other parts of the valley, allowing the grapes to mature fully but slowly. Although the original blend has been the three classic Bordeaux varieties: Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, and Carmenere (which every Chilean winery wants a piece of), they are now planting Cabernet Franc, Petit Verdot, Malbec and a miniscule amount of Syrah. The future final blends will depend on the harvest quality of each grape. During our visit, they were prepping the vineyard for planting and carving out some impressive terraces out of one of the hillsides. Seña has definitely invested time and effort in landscaping and having the vineyard meld into the natural landscape with beautiful espinos, yellow-flowered bushy-type trees, Poplar groves, small, gushing rivers, flowers, and curvy roads that show off their vines.
            Now, all this being said, I want you to better understand the path that has led them to Biodynamics; or my impression based on this visit. Seña was hitched up for 10 years with Mondavi, which love Mondavi or not, their huge international recognition and legacy not only validate the brand, they also sell it. So what happens when you take them out of the picture? A scramble for identity. Seña suddenly needs to reassess its niche in the market; how to get to its market; how to position itself; how to distinguish itself from the steep competition in “world class” wines (Seña runs about US$100 per bottle, fyi). Basically, there is no more wine sugar daddy to fall back on. Therefore, it makes sense to a certain extent to start a new chapter. Go in a totally new direction. Define themselves, well Seña, as wine that is totally different and not dependent on the Mondavi association. Biodynamics is a tempting vehicle to realize this high goal. To me, it seemed somewhere between a genuine initiative, a leap of faith, a calculated gamble, and definitely a potential marketing ploy. I will give them credit, it’s ballsy. The stakes are high. This is their best. They are placing their bets that this is going to keep them flying higher and higher.  Time will tell if Biodynamics pays the dividends they are expecting.

       I will admit that I am somewhat “under-studied” in French wines. The problem is, for as much as great wine as Chile produces, that is all we get here. Hence, a wine knowledge deficit is inevitably created. To combat this void, I decided to go to France for Vinexpo in Bordeaux this past June to bone up on the material. It was far from a crash course in French wines, it was a total overload of information and stimulation. After 5 days at Vinexpo, I was totally overwhelmed by the shear breadth of the A.O.C. and amount of wines, and my palate felt like it has run a marathon. For once in my life, I decided to accept I was lost and needed help so I let my French friends pick le vin, sat back, sipped, relaxed, and nodded with approval. This strategy worked brilliantly—until of course, I was left alone the day before leaving Paris. I had bought a couple “interesting wines in Bordeaux but I wanted to fill my carry-on to capacity—I had 7 wines to go. I was not going back to Chile until I had a full case.

Pressed for time, I had to fit my wine shopping into a 2-hour window. Since I was staying that particular day with friends near the Port D’Orleans metro in suburban Paris, I decided it was too far to make the trek to some specialty shops I knew in the 7^th or 3^rd arrondissements. I would just have to suffice with what the closest supermarket had stocked. A total gamble, I know. To improve my odds of scoring, I decided to establish some sort of buying strategy as I walked to the store. I was not looking for grand crus, but drinkable wines that average people in France drink on a weekly (or daily) basis. That would be easy, right? Make an educated guess based on some Chateau I had heard of, the region, and of course, if the label “talked” to me or not.  

            The store was akin to the French version of Walmart with the wines section occupying 10% of the whole floor space, or about 8 full aisles of wine. With the clock ticking, I tried not to freak out. Focus, focus! I first did a quick pass by to get a sense of how they organized their wines. This particular store had cleverly arranged everything by variety (whites, reds, rosés, champagne, dessert and fortified wines) and then subdivided them into regions. Since I was basically looking for a needle in the haystack, but no idea where or what the needle was, I decided to buy from all the different wine regions which focused on the reds that potentially interested me: Burgundy, Bordeaux, Rhone, Languedoc, Beaujolais.  I was equally clueless as to what the average breaking point was for an average “okay” wine (in Chile it seems to hover around the US$10-12 mark). To error on the safe side, I decided to buy in the same range, but in euros. From there, I flat out guessed based on the label. At one point as I filled up my cart (now with a wine shopper’s high), I felt like I was picking wisely chosen lottery tickets. So did I find any winning numbers?
       The results have been surprisingly decent, given the calculated gambling theory I applied. The first bottle we tried was in the presence of one of my good friends, a talented winemaker here in Chile. We were going to cook pumpkin risotto together so I chimed in that I would bring a bottle of the mystery Bordeaux blend I had bought. On the way over in the car, I started to doubt my own enthusiasm in sharing this wine with him (super refined palate), and then began playing out all the worst case scenarios in my head, which all basically reduced to the wine being a vinegar with sandpaper tannins. I prayed harder. My friend, who had lived in France for many years, had never heard of Chateau Bertrand, but he was quick to add that nobody could possibly keep track of all the chateaux. Nice try to calm my nerves; didn’t work. To keep me on pins and needles a little longer, he made a show decanting it. I can only say that when I brought the glass to my nose, not only was the smell okay (no apparent defects), it actually had a decent nose. I was slightly relieved. It was a dark, concentrated wine made from a blend of Carignan, Grenache, Syrah, and Mouvedre grapes. It had a toasty woodiness that reminded me of autumn (went well with the risotto) and the red berry fruit was quite balanced. The (winemaker’s) conclusion? Decent now; probably better a couple years from now. Live and learn, considering how I bought it.

        Recently, I opened a bottle no. 2, a Beaujolais. I was totally unfamiliar with the Gamay grape other than it was a cousin of Pinot Noir and I knew I had to drink it cold, between 10 and 12 C. I had heard people rave about this wine in the summertime and its crispness and slinky body, even though it was a red wine. With summer approaching in Chile, I was in the mood for a light wine but not white and I was not willing to touch the Pinot Noir I brought back (yet). The occasion seemed perfect. The Beaujolais cru I bought, from Beaujolais-Villages, was from Honoré Lavigne, the Cuvée Spéciale. The wine was earthy and had a silky body style with easy-to-swallow in addition to mouthwatering berry fruit. Very simple but totally drinkable (as I write this post, I am killing the rest of the bottle). Lesson learned? Just goes to show that sometimes a shot in the dark can hit a target, when a miniscule ounce of logic is applied. And yes, now I do know how to read a French wine label.
 

por Liz Caskey

      Ayayay. Las pobres verduras verdes. El espárrago, las habas, las arvejas, las bruselas, entre otras, parecen sufrir de la mala fama de ser responsable de más de una hinchazón inoportuna; un niño torturado en la mesa por no haberlas terminado de comer; cambiarle el sabor al vino; o gente con fobia de que “cualquier cosa verde” tiene mal sabor. En Chile, generalmente he encontrado que las verduras verdes, que abundan en todos los mercados en esta estación, están malentendidas. Abusadas por la sobrecocción. Si el verano es la madurez máxima de las verduras acariciadas por un sol caliente (piensen en tomates y choclos), entonces la primavera es su primera aparencia: delicadas, tiernas, dulces, jovenes. Por tanto, es necesario tratar ellas con mucho cuidado y cariño en su preparación para mantener su dulzor, textura, vitaminas y plentiud. Por favor, les ruego que no las sobre cuezan. ¡Merecen más respecto que eso! Aquí van un par de ideas como lucirlas:
      Las habas: basta con un blanqueo rápido en agua herviendo por 4-5 minutos, luego sumergiéndolas en agua bien helada. Pelar las cáscaras exteriores (son amargas) para revelar la joya verde adentro. Aquí hay varias combinaciones de sabores pero sencillamente, rociadas con aceite de oliva de buena calidad, gotas de limón fresco, queso de oveja rallado, sal gruesa y pimienta fresca encima de pan tostado, es de otro mundo con un Sauvignon Blanc.
      El espárrago: si van a cocerlos en agua, no más de unos minutos. Deben ser “al dente”. Mi recomendación personal para darles un sabor increíble es asarlos—sí, me escucharon bien. A-s-a-r-l-o-s. Mezclar asparagus con 1 cda. de aceite de oliva, sal gruesa y pimienta fresca. Cocer en horno caliente (200º C) o a la parrilla (perfecto para acompañar un asado), unos 10 minutos (5 minutos por lado), revolviendo para que su cocción sea uniforme. Se reducen hasta ponerse un poco crocante y dorados.
      Este es el trato; por favor, No al maltrato de verduras verdes por aquí!