This blend of Grenache, Carignan, and Syrah is exactly what I like about this region of France; concentrated red fruits, aromas of fresh herbs, and a dusty texture. I know, sounds gross, right? Dusty texture. But what I mean is that immediately I can picture the rocky limestone slopes, the wind depositing a fine coat of vineyard dust on the hood of the car that’s ticking slightly as it cools. And the sound….like 60 cycle hum but it’s just all the fauna; the dragonflies and other bugs. And little civilization, as far as the eye can see. So, dusty can be good.

I love wine grown by family estates, by one family or individual I can point to as the source for the great wines I sell. So it’s a rare thing for me to get behind a wine that comes from a cooperative of growers; it’s got to be truly delicious AND expressive of its place and grape for me to support it. The tiny Southern French wine growing region of Corbieres is home to just such a co-op- Castelmaure. There are 65 growers in the co-op 15 of whom are responsible for 85% of the production. Everything I have tasted from Castelmaure is an authentic expression of Corbieres; their Grand Cuvee is a delicious blend that I might talk more about when the weather is colder. Right now I think the less heavy, more versatile “Col des Vents” bottling is the ticket for satisfying red wine drinking.

High West Peach Vodka isn't sweet kids' stuff

I remember sitting near the service bar of a busy restaurant several years ago as the machine cranked out ticket after ticket for Cosmopolitans. “*&^%$ that ##@% show, I am SICK of making &*$% Cosmos!” spat the bartender. Indeed. I’ve walked away from my former cocktail routine and my tastes have been richly rewarded for it. Patronize bars that are experimental, that are putting  time and effort into their cocktails, and are spending the money to stock interesting, esoteric spirits. It’s such an engaging way to sample a range of crazy stuff, and to indulge the whims of some very creative people….all while having a ball. And be sure to pop into The Wine Shop at The Wine Market on your way through to the bar; we’re finding new and interesting spirits every month, and will be moving out of “industrial” brands wherever we can. We hope you’ll have as much fun shopping the new selections as we did.

Things got off to a left-of-center start with the arrival of Terry Theise and his guided tasting of German and Austrian wines. You can Google Terry and learn all about him; suffice to say he is an anti-industrial wine importer of the sort that are being hunted to extinction by suits who love golf and the word “consolidation.” There were many brilliant wines, but the one I settled on was the Geil Scheurebe Kabinett because  a) it was a brilliant balance of sweetness and juicy acidity and  b) the importer described Scheurebe as “Riesling’s transvestite brother.” I had to have it. We’re pouring it by the glass.

The next wine that got my attention was this Sacra Natura Terra Alta 2007, of certified organic grapes and hailing from Spain. It’s a little wild, a little ragged maybe even, but it all hangs together, actually it totally pulls together into one majestic rock and roll red. It’s like The Replacements in a bottle. It’s Sacra-licious.

The other two crossed my glass on the same day, and they both have green labels. A Green Day, then. Falernia Pedro Ximenez 2009 is Chilean. Which didn’t stop any of us from pronouncing “Ximenez” in the Barcelonan style, since usually Pedro Ximenez is reserved for making Sherry. This entails forming a “th” sound with your tongue in place of the “z.” Like Letter Man and his Varsity Sweater. None of which has anything to do with the wine, which was refreshing like a Sauvignon Blanc, but with less overt citrus and a bit more texture. And it’s from Chile, which is odd.

Quattro Mani [toh-kai] 2008 was the second wine that day. [toh-kai] is what you get when Tokai develops a Prince fetish and introduces some symbolism into its name. This wine is from Slovenia. Isn’t that bat-shit crazy? It is to me. Biodynamically farmed Tokai spelled [toh-kai] from Slovenia for well under $15 qualifies at bat-shit crazy in my book, despite my resolution to clean up my language.

The thing is, none of these wines is hard to love. All that’s required is an open mind and an empty glass. No matter where you shop for wine, pay attention to the fringe…..you’ll likely find some very attractive wines there. And the wine buyer’s spouse will thank you.

Grigio? Really? Who decided it was o.k.to get so chummy with Pinot Grigio? We all know what happens when you whisper the right nickname in the wrong ear- embarrassment and recrimination. And so it was that I, anxious not to reveal that I thought a little faux-pas had been made, abruptly changed course and headed for the Italian section with an “ohhhh THAT Pinot!” and a smile. I now live in fear of the Pinot Meunier fan and the Pinot Blanc lover…will they too assume I’m on the same page? I just hate those awkward moments…

I never thought someone a hipper wine enthusiast for using words like “Cab Sav” or “Pinot;” I don’t consider them terms of art. In fact there is one person in my  past whom I tried to avoid for, among other things, bandying about the term “Savvy Blanc.” Oh, the irony. So I’m calling for a return to formality on some of these grape varieties. Please. It will save us all some embarrassment.

To me, it is jaw droppingly amazing how diverse true French wine culture is, and how much of the good stuff we have access to in little ol’ Baltimore. I do not speak of famed appellations necessarily, or the belles of the journalistic balls. Rather, it is the thousands of families for whom wine growing and wine making is simply what they do, without any glamour or raves attached to it, that I love. The succulence of the southern Rhône, the nervy juiciness of the Loire, the lustiness of Languedoc and the quixotic men and women working there, the daft sparkly cremants from all over…there is literally a wine for every occasion and dish.

I’m reminded of an exchange I was privy to years ago, between a French wine skeptic and Bruce Neyers. Bruce is the national director of sales for Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant, the Grand-père of French wine importers. He also has his own winery in California. The skeptic lamented the rise of French wine prices due to the vagaries of currency exchange. Bruce raised a glass of Chablis from Olivier Savary and quietly exclaimed, “The wine in this glass comes from a region that’s been making Chardonnay in the same spot for the better part of a millemium. I’d kill to have this much finesse in my Napa Chardonnay, and even with the exchange problems it’s still $5 cheaper. People don’t know how good they actually have it.”  Now, I’m not saying everyone has to like what I like, or even that everyone has to like French wine. But during this season of Le Tour, I am saying that lovers of wine who have not bothered to explore the wines of France for a while should consider doing so.

The last thing the internet needs is another dissection of a wine growing country and its regions. What I’d like to offer is an invitation. In my first 45 days at The Wine Market, I’ve bought about a half dozen wines from France I would love for you to try, if you’re willing to step outside your comfort zone. I want to show you how Sauvignon Blanc is done in the region that the grape calls home. I want you to fall in love with Grenache because it just loves Maryland’s summer food so much. I want you to swoon for red wine that isn’t very big, because it has balance and finesse and goes with everything, including an ice pack at the bottom of a picnic basket. If you’ve got 20 bucks, I’ve got a growing section of wines I think you ought to try.

Enter Matt Cain. Matt used to represent the wines of Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant, an importer of delicious French and Italian wines and representative of some of Europe’s most committed organic growers. But it struck Matt as incongruous to get so excited about organic viticulture when the logistical side of the business was so…dirty. He started his own company, Yellow and Blue, to complete the circle of sustainability by selling organically grown wine in a better container. He visits with certified organic wine estates, tastes, buys the production from the family and then sells it to you in a light-weight Tetra Pak. Estate grown, organically certified, delicious, and half the carbon footprint of a glass bottle.  Take ‘em on the boat, take ‘em on a picnic, or jam one into the water bottle cage of your bicycle. Those of you in the neighborhood who visit us  á pied will have an easier walk home. AND they are one liter packages, so they’re a better value. Yellow and Blue Tetra Pak…..like a brand new Jetta TDi, it will completely upend opinion about a formerly scorned category.

We currently carry the Malbec and Torrontes, both from Argentina, and the Rosé from Spain; I invite you to come and check them out.

Hi!

I’m Lucien Walsh, and I love wine. I love to taste it, I love to drink it, and I certainly love talking about it. Come to think of it, I feel that way about all manner of things that arise from fermentation. The idea of a blog has at once appealed to me and repelled me for a while now. This month I became the wine director for The Wine Market in Baltimore, MD, and that has motivated me to quit procrastinating and give this a whirl. We’re a wine shop, a restaurant, and a wine bar. I couldn’t be happier; this is a cool place, and I am going to have a lot to talk about.

So, welcome. If you’re a fan of The Wine Market, I’m glad you’re here. If you don’t know about The Wine Market…well, you should. Check us out at www.the-wine-market.com and yes, we’re on Facebook too. And stay tuned here, because a lot of cool drink passes through my tasting glass every week, and I can’t wait to tell you about it.