Bob and I just returned from a trip in which we drove 600-800 miles per day in order to get to Ohio, where we spent three nights, and back in just ten days. Grueling but illuminating and less, in the end, about the view than the perspective. It was a trip where wine at the end of the day was more medication for road-rattle than culinary enhancement for whatever grilled meat or one-dish meal I conjured up at camp on the little Coleman. Purpose of the trip: trade in our existing camper van for a brand new one.
But for one bottle brought from home, wines were inexpensive and procured at supermarkets along the way.
2012 Ferrari Carano Sonoma Fume Blanc in St. Regis, Montana
Perfect pairing for asparagus picked up from a road side stand in Eastern Washington and a piece of thawed out salmon we smoked ourselves last fall. Practically clear in color with savage grassiness in the way I love and don't expect from anything American called 'fume', it was taut, gooseberry-green and would have sent David Bueker running out of the campground screaming.
2012 Estancia California Pinot Noir in Sheridan, Wyoming
A Bordeaux fanatic--I mean, not just a fan but someone who drinks almost nothing else--that I know touted this wine to me recently, claiming it excellent and a go-to wine during the several months he and his wife spent in Florida. Knowing his uber-traditional tastes, I could only conclude that Estancia had changed drastically since I last sampled any, so I ordered this off the menu at Frackelton's Fine Wines and Spirits, the restaurant you absolutely MUST go to if ever stranded in quaint little Sheridan for a night. Well--it hasn't changed a bit. It's still all Red Whip licorice candy that's been filtered and polished within an inch of its life in aid of erasing all varietal and vintage character such that what is left tastes the same from year to year, like Gallo's Hearty Burgundy, or at least the way that wine used to be (do they still make it?). In the morning, I sent off an email to that friend asking what in the hell was he was thinking.
2000 Mayne Veil, Fronsac, in Kickapoo, Illinois
This was the bottle brought from home. We opened it to pair with a thick Missouri steak procured in Omaha, Nebraska and grilled campside at Jubilee State Park just outside of Peoria. Definitely past peak with muddy dark fruit and leathery nuances, but still impressive for a wine that set me back all of $12.99 at the time of purchase (at Wine Exchange, Tustin CA, with Jim Dietz). Must figure out how to store a decanter and some coffee filters for cleaning up wines like this while on the road, or just bring younger wines.
2012 Sterling Napa Pinot Noir in Piqua, Ohio
Egads. Here is the polar opposite of the Estancia, or at least the polar opposite that's on the same plane of quality and not in a better direction. Rather stiff, with over-extracted black fruit and some harsh green notes riding the tannins. Not recommended.
2010 Simi Sonoma Merlot in Lake Keshogan State Park, Wisconsin, and Jamestown, North Dakota
Also a little green but not harsh, just tight, this wine was a basket of red fruits on the first night and considerably smoother with some nice cocoa notes on the second. Not a spectacular value but quite drinkable, and infinitely preferable to the Sterling or the Estancia at even money ($13).
2012 Rodney Strong Russian River Sonoma Pinot Noir in Clinton, Montana
Okay, now here's the real deal. It's only medium bodied and obviously no attempt to make a more concentrated wine takes place in the vineyard vs. growing more grapes to make as much wine as they can, in other words it's the California equivalent of a village Burgundy, but the correct flavor profile for California pinot is in this bottle. Cherry fruit with spice and tomato leaf in a way that reads more Sonoma Coast than Russian River, but that's okay because it's tasty and refreshing and, at last, real pinot noir. Went delightfully with some Asian-seasoned grilled pork chops and a light salad.
2013 Ferrari Carano Fume Blanc in Birch Bay, Washington
So delighted were we with the earlier bottle, we bought a second further along but never got around to opening it. Still, it was cold and ready when we finally arrived back in our own driveway right about sunset, so we opened this to relax with as we re-connected with our bug-free (I cannot stress enough how troublesome I found the bug situation in the midwest) Puget Sound patio. Wow, nothing, NOTHING, like the first one. Simple and fruity-yellow like a bar-fly pinot grigio, lacking any similarity to that first bottle in particular or even sauvignon blanc in general. A dog and a floozie. Woof woof.
