As I take a sip of a Merlot from Friuli, I’m expecting to dislike it. Kind of like going on a first date and telling your friend to call an hour in, because you think it’ll be awful. It’s not fair, to the date or the wine.
But as I let the Merlot from I Clivi cover my tongue, all I can think is that my dad would hate it. Which makes me laugh, because that’s not dissimilar to some of the men I’ve dated – men my dad would dislike.
Which, again, is not fair to the wine, because this one is lovely. It’s from Northern Italy, a small vineyard in the Veneto. It’s not the place to be making big, fat Bordeaux blend wines, for which French Merlot is often used. Instead this 100% Merlot is a model of restraint. If you want a truly romantic story, just read the bio of the winery (romantic in the poetic sense, at least) and melt at the words of Mario Zanusso, the winemaker whom I met at RASPIPAV, the private import wine salon that happens this time of year in Montreal at the Marché Bonsecours.
“I’m a white wine producer. My heart goes towards my white wines, so my reds reflect my vision of my whites,” he said.
His whites are elegant, it’s true – restrained in the same way. But it’s most interesting in the expression of the Merlot, which comes with so many expectations. There’s a little tannin there, but it’s aged in stainless steel, so there’s no okay flavour. It’s lighter than its northern French cousins, but neither is it a pushover. It’s 13% alcohol, but it’s not sweet or boozy. It’s organic, with just a little sulfur added at bottling to give it more stability. And at $33.50 per bottle from Bambara Selection, it’s a good deal.
My dad might not like it, but he loves me, so maybe he’d learn to at least watch sports with it over the holidays. Like I imagine he would with those unacceptable men I’ve dated.
And if he didn’t, I’d drown my sorrows in the J&J Eger, imported by Rézin, which I tasted after a sharp Austrian Blaufränkisch.
Though made with the same grape, the 2015 Kéfrankos is from Hungary and was softer, like dunking yourself into a body length bath after doing your taxes. It’s $30.75 a bottle in private import, but is also available at Pullman Wine Bar, Perles et Paddock et at Soif in Gatineau, which is worth the drive and the hotel room, because it would be unwise to drive back to Montreal that night.
I didn’t get to try this one, but I think my dad would like it: a nebbiolo and the winner of the natural red wine tasting at this year’s event. Each year, the participating agencies submit a wine or two to be blind tasted in a specific category. This year it was natural red wines.
The under $30 winner just made it in under the nose.
It’s imported by Bacchus76 and there are none left, apparently, so much was it liked. Indigenous yeasts, Aged in oak. Ten days of maceration at 25˚C. It’s organic. The grapes are hand-picked. I think my dad would like it, but it might be too dry for him. Then again, give him some beef and he probably would enjoy it. I’d just keep my mouth shut and let it speak for itself.
He wouldn’t spend $40 on a sparkling wine, but I’d know this one, Mann Brut Nature (Génération Terroir) from Bambara Selection was a good deal. With a great balance of freshness and minerality, this Alsatian cremant is all natural. It’s a 50-50 mix of Pinot Noir and Chardonnay, with no bitter aftertaste. It’s not the most delicate bubbles in the world, but there’s no brioche-y cloyingness to it either. And it’s much cheaper than that Veuve you were thinking of for Christmas or New Years.
And last but not least, a cool white from Penedès in Spain. El Clar is a mix of Xarel-lo, Chardonnay and Gewurtraminer, and if you think Gewurtz is strange in Spain, drink this and reconsider. There’s no lychee or apricot nose, instead this wine from Finca Parera is dry and fresh. It’s $24 a bottle and is imported by Origines.
I lied. One more. Because I think my mom would love it, mostly because I do, but also because it’s not aggressive. More assertive, but flexible in an argument. Le Fraghe 2017, from Bardolino in the Veneto, Italy.It’s $24.65 from Rézin, and well worth it. It’s soft and gentle when you sip it, and then you get a little tannin and fruit at the end. I’m thinking with the Duck-for-Two at Hopkins, where my mom and I ate this past summer. It’s the kind of wine where you think you get it, and then all of a sudden – raspberries. Not big raspberries. Sneaky raspberries.
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