2008 Kung Fu Girl Riesling

This wine was a selection by the talented Angela Moon of Kirby Wines and Liquors for one of The Commercial Appeal's online tastings. You can read the transcript of that here, though I wasn't sipping the wine at the time--I just dropped in for a bit.

Three months later, I finally got around to trying the 2008 Kung Fu Girl from the Columbia Valley of Washington state. Pure Riesling, $13, 12.5% abv. Fruity but dry, with a green apple and pear aroma, green apple flavors, and a lemony finish. It is tart and acidic, but not mouth-puckering. It seems to be a popular choice for pairing with sushi, but with my own irreverence and as a nod to Hardy's upcoming challenge, I served this wine with a 3 piece and a biscuit from Popeyes and was thus inspired to compose a haiku:

Greasy fried dark meat
Fills up the autumn belly
Crisp wine invites nap

Check out the website for the full range of Charles Smith wines. They've got a great set of labels with that sort of punk poster/90s indie comic vibe to them. This one is a solid demonstration of the skilled use of negative space. The girl's clothing is only shown by the cuffs and collars, but any of us can easily "see" the rest of her robe. She has no eyes, but I can feel that glare.

Pickled Okra

Recently I've been craving okra, but the season for fresh pods from the farm is over. It's time to turn to the preserved variety, and I felt like a bit of spice as well. Fortunately in the South, okra can be found in many forms, so I procured a jar of Trappey's Hot Cocktail Okra. You can eat these straight, slice them and add them to a sandwich or creamy salad of some sort, or you can take that "cocktail" modifier to heart. Oh yes. The fabled Okratini.

This is not a creation of my own, and I generally hate the -tini suffix that gets added to any beverage poured into a cocktail glass. In my opinion, this is a real, 3:1 gin:vermouth martini; the garnish is a separate issue (more on that in a bit). But the name Okratini is too euphonious to pass up. It sounds like a term from Greek philosophy... "Ωκρατίνι refers to the Aristotelian concept of preferring mild guilt over the just action, as in pretending that you've run out of checks when Girl Scouts knock on your door during cookie season. Mentioned in The Nicomachean Ethics."

Initially you don't get a lot of flavor from the okra, but the heat shows up as a slight tingle on the aftertaste. To release more of the essence, take regular bites out of the pod and give it a thorough squeeze and stir. Once that vinegar and salt brine are released it gets a little closer to a Dirty Martini, though I find that most people go a little heavy on the olive juice.

The heat from the peppers intensifies as the drink steeps and warms, and while I like the added kick, there's nothing wrong with using mild pickled okra. These are also suggested as a good garnish for a Bloody Mary; if anyone tries that out, let me know. I've had lots of different Bloody Mary variations, and have never been very enthusiastic about the cocktail. Plus in the modern age, the garnish has gotten out of hand. A mere sprig of celery is not enough; you must add shrimp and other vegetables, or bacon and pickles and citrus.

When it comes to the traditional gin and vermouth martini, two garnishes are commonly accepted: the olive(s) or twist of lemon peel. Personally I prefer the peel, but I think there's some room for improvisation without getting crazy. A blue cheese-stuffed olive is wonderful. An heirloom cherry tomato, split and skewered with a boconccino of fresh mozzarella and basil is lovely in the summer. Even a swath of orange peel speared on a sprig of rosemary can provide an added dimension to this classic cocktail. The freshness of the garnish ingredients are paramount; nobody wants those dried out olives or sad withered lemon wedges that's been fermenting in the bar tray for a few days. And keep it small and simple--serve the shrimp on the side.

Larry Gonick's Cartoon History

In the fall of 1990 a 14-year old Benito read about something called The Cartoon History of the Universe in the science magazine Discover. He asked for it for Christmas, and received it. He read it over and over again.

That was the first step in a 20-year journey that ended last week.

Now, for those of you that are beginning to smirk at the idea of me reading "comic books" as a teenager and grown adult, I will kindly ask you to kiss my Scots-Irish ass. The first book in this series was edited by Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis (she saved it from the reject pile at Doubleday) and the work was praised by Carl Sagan among others. In a college World History course, I recognized the inferior quality of the assigned texts, and used TCHOTU I & II as my source material for exams. I was one of two people to get an A; the other being a girl that I was courting and with whom I was sharing a lot of that great cartoon history. (Young gents out there: the right kind of lady loves a literate man.)

Who is the genius behind all of this? None other than Larry Gonick, a Harvard mathematician who decided to draw cartoons about science and history. I'm going to focus entirely on his historical contributions here, but he's written similar guides to statistics, genetics, and many other topics. Pictured at right you can see my first editions as I collected them over the past two decades:

The Cartoon History of the Universe I, Vol. 1-7: From the Big Bang to Alexander the Great (1990)

The Cartoon History of the Universe II, Vol. 8-13: From the Springtime of China to the Fall of Rome (1994)

The Cartoon History of the Universe III, Vol. 14-19: From the Rise of Arabia to the Renaissance (2002)

The Cartoon History of the Modern World, Part 1: From Columbus to the U.S. Constitution (2006)

The Cartoon History of the Modern World, Part 2: From the Bastille to Baghdad (2009)

I hate that the books got smaller over time, but cost becomes an issue and these aren't exactly Spider-Man comics we're talking about. The quality and style has been consistent over the twenty years, and I've savored every minute that I've spent reading each of the five books. Things I love about these:

• Beautiful black and white pen and brush work reminiscent of Pogo and Asterix. Examples here, here, here, here, and here. These little images don't do the work justice.
  
• The books are heavily footnoted (with an amusing icon of a foot drawing an asterisk or a musical note). They also contain extensive bibliographies at the end, referencing both established works in the field as well as primary sources when applicable.
  
• While it's not possible to list every historical figure and the detail of every society on earth in a space that takes up less than 20 linear centimeters on the bookshelf, Gonick does a great job of covering histories that are frequently ignored in modern western life unless you choose to specialize. Namely the histories of China, India, the Middle East, and north Africa.
  
• There are big gaps. Only the briefest mentions are given to Russia, Korea, Thailand and the rest of southeast Asia, sub-Saharan Africa, and Australia. South America drops off the radar around 1900. Antarctica also gets short shrift, but not much of significance has happened there. For my part, those gaps encourage me to do the research on my own.
  
• Because a truly comprehensive history of the world would have required a book for every modern nation, there are points at which Gonick draws a map of the world and gives a quick synopsis as to what is happening where. It's an easy way to get the "big picture" of a specific decade.
  
• If it's not already obvious, the whole endeavor was produced with a lot of love and humor. When was the last time you laughed while reading history? And for those of you who have reached the bottom of this post, desperate for food or wine content... He did a great series of cartoon recipes for Serious Eats.

Why do I bring all of this up now? These books will make great Christmas gifts for the curious youngster in your family. If you prefer a geocentric universe that began 6,000 years ago you probably won't like it, but if you want a kid to be able to intelligently argue about the ostracism of Themistocles or the politics of Byzantium at any point from sixth grade to grad school, these books are for you--or more appropriately, for that weird little relative that obsesses over dinosaurs, space, math, and eventually, wine. Though I'd prefer that you give it to the child with a few cracks in the spine and some dogeared pages. We could all use a refresher course in world history.

2007 Rio Seco Malbec

I love inexpensive Malbecs for their bold flavors and easy pairing. Here I enjoyed the wine with a vegetarian pizza, but it would work well with BBQ, steak, lamb, etc.

The 2007 Rio Seco Malbec is from Mendoza, Argentina. $12, 13% abv. Black cherry, full plummy flavors with a big mouthfeel, medium tannins, long finish. This is a great table wine, and I'm glad that we're getting better and better access to inexpensive but decent selections.

In the background you can see one of my less-noted wine glasses: a polycarbonate tumbler. While I love proper crystal and try to pick the right glass to go with the right wine, for everyday bottles I'm sometimes less discriminating, especially when it comes to leftovers on the second day. This is also my travel glass: it's rigid, indestructible, perfectly clear, easy to wash in a hotel sink, and works well enough for casual tasting. You can do a swirl and sniff on this easily enough, and with its short squat shape you're not going to easily tip it over and destroy your laptop.

There's not a great solution for traveling wine lovers when it comes to glassware. Yes, you can construct a special package for your beloved Riedel glass and keep it in the luggage, but it could always disappear in the hotel room if someone mistakes it for a room service glass. Some suggestions from my personal experience, based on spending a week or more in one place and finding fun curiosities in different wine markets:

• The $2 Wal-Mart Wine Glass: Ugly, clunky, and thick, but you can buy just one anywhere in the US and leave it behind when you depart.
  
• The Room Service Deception: Late night reports have to be filed and you're stuck ordering room service? A lot of hotels use goblet-style water glasses with whatever you order. Rinse it out and stash it in one of the drawers. Before you check out, be sure to put the glass somewhere visible, and leave a tip in it.
  
• The Friendly Bartender: If you're not willing to actually ask the hotel bartender if you can borrow a glass for the evening (and be sure to purchase a cocktail or something and tip handsomely first), there's the introverted option of slowly wandering off with the glass until you can duck into the elevator. Again, be sure to return it later.
  
• The Scavenger: I do not recommend swiping a used wine glass off a random room service tray in the hallway and ducking back to your room like my dog Wolfgang stealing a chicken carcass from the trash can. The glass will probably have lipstick on it and if you get caught there's no respectable way to explain what you were doing.
  

Benito vs. Peru: Tallarin Verde con Bistec y Pisco Sour

I stared at a group of random ingredients in the kitchen and thought, "I could make a Peruvian Dinner with this." It was a rare flash of inspiration, as opposed to the usual observations of "that lettuce has gone sideways", "I need to write about those sardines eventually", and "why do I own so much mustard?"

This dinner needed an authentic cocktail, and the Pisco Sour was an easy choice. While I didn't like it as much as some other egg white cocktails, it was an interesting alternative and one that I had to eventually cross off my list.

Pisco Sour
2 oz. Pisco
1 oz. fresh lime juice
¾ oz. simple syrup
1 egg white
Angostura bitters

Combine everything but the bitters in a shaker with ice cubes, and shake until the beverage starts making dull thudding noises and it's become so cold that you can't feel your hands anymore. Pour into tumblers and dash a few drops of bitters on top of the foam. It's tangy, creamy, and yes, sour.

The Don César Pisco Puro is widely available in the United States, and I grabbed a bottle months ago. As often happens, other interests and commitments got in the way, and I sort of forgot it was there. I also have a large Civil War atlas and a cheap Mexican cookbook written by a Brit, and I don't know where those came from. I think the ephemera of my life is beginning to crossbreed during the late night hours, producing new and wondrous items.

Pisco is a clear brandy distilled from grapes invented in South America over 400 years ago. Which grapes? This was probably made from Muscatel. And while my Pisco came from Peru, others are made in Chile. The two nations fight over which truly owns the name. No comment on that disagreement here, but the Don César has a sort of grainy, wheatish aroma with a background of raisins. On its own, you can feel the pisco travel down your esophagus with the curious aftertaste of, again, raisins. I guess the best way to describe it would be to imagine white rum dosed with a bit of Muscat wine.

With my pile of odd ingredients I decided to make tallarin verde con bistec. Often translated as "green spaghetti", it's usually made with flatter noodles like fettuccine. There are lots of different recetas out there, but it couldn't be simpler. Take your favorite basil pesto recipe or pre-made variety. Add in a few handfuls of baby spinach leaves (or even a full bag if you wish), half a cup of evaporated milk, blend it all together, and slowly warm it on the stove. Toss it with the cooked pasta and you're done. It's about as complicated as Hamburger Helper®. It's often served with some bit of meat, and I settled on spicy broiled cube steaks (hence con bistec). Grilled flank steak would have been better, but the New York Times informs me that cube steak is trendy again, and I didn't want to be behind the Times.

The pasta was unique; not even remotely Italian-tasting, but the ingredients are all available in Italy. It's creamy and vegetal without being gloopy or bitter. Something about the evaporated milk gives it a lovely texture without the weight of cream, and the color is an almost otherworldly green. The cube steak was simply seasoned and broiled, and while not terribly attractive in the photo, it was tasty enough and well-received by my fellow diners.

We skipped the wine on this dinner--it was more of a beer occasion. And when it comes to Peruvian food served in the United States, the most logical choice was a hoppy Czech pilsner brewed in Mexico: Bohemia. Crisp, cold, bitter, and great for washing down a load of protein and carbs.

Thoughts on Australia

I got a great comment from an Australian reader on Friday's post. I'm going to excerpt some of his points and address them below, but I thought that first a quick geography lesson was in order. I feel certain that if I asked any of you to map a route from Adelaide to Darwin without going through Alice Springs you could do so as easily as you could give directions to the nearest Starbucks. But on the off chance that someone is less familiar with the land down under...

I wanted to clarify Australian population density and wine regions for the benefit of the average American. Unless you decide to study the topic yourself, or have some connection to the country, few of us understand that continent. Since there's no existing map that explains these two topics well, I built my own non-scientific, mostly factual* map from scratch. I call it "Benito's Bruised Mango Map of Australian Wine & People" (click for big glorious version). First off, the "Lower 48" (all of the US minus Alaska and Hawaii) is about the same physical size and shape as Australia, but the population is totally different:

US Lower 48 = 8 million km²
Australia = 7.6 million km²

US Population = 307 million
Australia Population = 22 million

The US population (99% in the Lower 48) is concentrated in the eastern third of the country bordered by the Mississippi River, but we have 30 million people in California and 24 million in Texas--the latter group is bigger than Australia, and that's just one state. In Australia the population is almost entirely coastal, with the vast majority in the southeast and smaller groups in the southwest. Imagine taking the population of Texas and spreading them out from North Carolina to Florida, and taking a handful to San Diego and Seattle.

Now that we've got that out of the way, let's look at Hieronymous' discussion points:

As an Aussie wine-lover I always find it fascinating to read international reviews of our wines. For a start many of the wines that make it out of the country are barely known here - there is a distinct segment of the market who produce for the export market only, some of which have trashed the brand internationally.

We had a great set of comments on this issue back in August from American retailers and distributors. I'm curious as to what all of you are drinking down there--I see reviews occasionally in magazines, but as you say, some bottles just don't make their way onto a boat or plane. What sort of American wines show up on Australian shelves and menus?

Yellow Tail is certainly available here in Oz, but is very much a budget brand that no-one of my acquaintance would dream of drinking. Likewise, there are a lot of elegant reds now being produced, but our rep has been tainted by the disproportionate proportion of 'fruit bombs' heading overseas.

Yellow Tail, Little Penguin, and others are hugely popular here, and I think the sales help keep wine shops running on a day-to-day basis. There are a lot of arguments in wine circles over these type of bottles. I don't really drink them anymore, but I did when I was freshly legal to purchase wine. I think that they're decent introductory material for novice wine drinkers. As I've said many times, a label full of confusing French or German can be scary to the neophyte; a cute animal is reassuring.

I was delighted with the wines I tried last week because I felt many of them broke the mold of the "standard Aussie wine" that shows up on American shelves. I hope they are successful and that as Americans, we don't develop a one-dimensional attitude towards an entire nation's industry.

That little rant over I'm glad to see some of the more diverse wine growing areas of the country getting some exposure. WA is certainly an up and coming area, and I would direct your readers to wines from Mornington and Yarra Valley in Victoria, and some of the Tassie wines. Orange is another region worth keeping an eye on.

I'm sad to say that I've only seen and tasted one Tasmanian wine in my life, but I loved it. Victorian wines are a bit easier to find around these parts. Western Australia wines are becoming more common, and I'll almost always grab one if I find it. But of course the vast majority of Oz juice is from the powerhouses of South Australia.

* * *

I think it's always helpful to examine your own prejudices and preconceptions. I know my own selection of wines reviewed here is skewed in several weird ways. I tend to ignore Germany unfairly due to the dominance of Riesling. Italy's vast and varied grapes fascinate me. Looking back over my notes I have a strong preference towards California red blends that I could not have recognized without analyzing the data. Not everybody has the time or inclination for such reflection, but if you've found yourself in a rut with Australian wines or any other category, step back and look for the under-appreciated wines and regions within that country.


*I started with a vector map of the continent to establish the basic design. For the wine and populations, I overlaid maps of major wine regions and population and painted over the main points to achieve the Mango Map. While it doesn't do proper service to the island of Tasmania, I think it does a decent job of showing population and wine densities in the southwest and southeast, the sources of most Aussie wine and people.

Wines From Down Under Part 3

For the final four wines, I present the remaining bottles that didn't fit in directly with the first two groups, as well as being those that I found superior from a design standpoint.

2008 Wagtail Cabernet Sauvignon, 14.5% abv from Coonawarra, South Australia. Black plum, dark cherry flavors, with a rich cocoa undertone. Mild for a 2008, and well-balanced in terms of fruit/tannins/acidity. Really impressed overall with this wine and it needs a grilled steak topped with a bit of blue cheese.

Now this is the kind of animal I like to see on a bottle of wine. The beloved Willie Wagtail is a little bird that runs around shaking its tailfeathers. It's the kind of critter I'd see on a nature special, not as the mascot of an energy drink or hero of a Saturday morning cartoon. I had to learn to identify birds in Scouts, and even to this day if I see a bird I don't recognize I'm liable to pull over the car and jot down some notes so I can look it up later. No, I'm not a serious birdwatcher, but I understand the thrill of seeing a new bird with your own eyes. I was so excited when a little kestrel built a nest in my neighborhood...

Another set of animal wines! This time using seahorses. Again, not the first thing that would spring to mind, but it's a classy heraldic layout with a maritime theme that would be appropriate as the logo of a major shipping conglomerate. Or a Bond villain. Or both.

West Cape Howe is based out of Denmark, Western Australia. (I imagine that name gets confusing at times. I live in Memphis, a town named after a city in ancient Egypt, and West Tennessee also has Milan, Moscow, and Paris.) The grapes come from the Great Southern Region, the largest wine region by area in Australia. I was excited to try two wines made from grapes I don't normally associate with Australia:

2008 West Cape Howe Tempranillo, 14% abv. Dusty strawberries and seeds, ashy with a strong earthy nose to it. Very unusual for a Tempranillo, and it would be hard to guess this was from Australia.

2008 West Cape Hope Viognier, 13.5% abv. Spicy, touch of grass, dry and full bodied, good fruit. I say bring on the shellfish: I'd love to try this with scallops, shrimp, and oysters. I like Viognier but this is the first time I've felt it would go really well with seafood.

The last wine of this eclectic lineup is the 2009 Vinaceous Divine Light Verdelho, 13% abv from Pemberton, Western Australia. Grapefruit, light, bright acidity, mineral, crisp. Dry and delightful. I was expecting something sweeter and this was a pure joy. Serve with cured meats and fresh fruit before a meal.

The four wines in the Vinaceous line are all laid out with a nod to Victorian circus posters. The ringmaster, fire breather, snake charmer, and this delightful little angel sitting on the trapeze. From a design standpoint this wine stands out from the other nine I've reviewed this week, but I like it. It's unique, it's catchy, not silly, and has the unrelated potential to make an interesting tattoo.

* * *

That wraps up our week-long salute to wines from Down Under. Keep an eye out for new and interesting bottles arriving from Australia and New Zealand, there's a lot more out there than the big guys like Yellow Tail. Currently these wines are available in about half of the states in the US, with full national distribution expected soon.


In accordance with the new regulations imposed by the Federal Trade Commission, I publicly disclose that these wines were received as samples from The Country Vintner. No additional gifts or compensation were provided.