For an explanation of this post's (uncharacteristic) brevity, please see the first installment.
10 September 2003 – San Francisco, California
Theresa's doing two seminars at the Moscone, and I'm circling her location by bus and foot, doing a little wine shopping.
The Wine Club – Less fun than usual, with prices seemingly up in every category, and with fewer hidden gems than normal. It's still an essential stop, but the outrageous deals of the past are thin on the ground.
K&L Wines – Spacious new digs not all that far from the old location make shopping here more of a pleasure than it used to be. Still a great, world-spanning selection.
As I take the MUNI back towards Market St., I see crowds flowing out of the Moscone Center, and emergency vehicles blocking off the surrounding roads. Was Theresa's presentation that bad? No, sadly, it's just a silly bomb scare, but one that forces the cancellation of one of her presentations. A shame.
Dee Vine – A dangerous stop for me, and still the most unusual location for a wine shop I've ever seen: international territory in a cavernous pier, surrounded by razor wire and mesh gates. I arrive just before the ostensible closing time, but am informed by a particularly attractive staffer that none of the employees are leaving anytime soon, and so I have time to assemble a mixed case of (what else?) German rieslings. Each time I visit, I spend more than I intend; thank goodness this store isn't in Boston.
Slanted Door – All the accolades for this restaurant's food and wine remain well-deserved, though the temporary dip in quality after the move to their Embarcadero location makes me worry about a similar discontinuity when they head up the street to their Ferry Building home. Let's hope they find a way to avoid it this time. What perhaps doesn't get enough credit is the service especially the wine service, which is extraordinary in every regard.
Ferry Goldwater
I'm here with my wife and several of her clients, and so I have to restrain my usual adventurous impulses and try to find some things that others might like.
Foreau 1995 Vouvray Brut "Réserve" (Loire) – Light and chalky, with a moderate sort of nervosity perched delicately on a long, lingering finish. A bit closed right now. I like it a lot, and think it has even more upside, but it's a little restrained for a crowd that doesn't fetishize chenin.
Schmitt-Wagner 2001 Longuicher Maximer Herrenberg Riesling Spätlese (16 02) (Mosel-Saar-Ruwer) – Sweet apricot, lemon, and light petrol aromas rise from a wine of hazy minerality akin to powdered slate and ground iron. Long, concentrated, and incredibly poised, with much aging potential. This is a huge hit with everyone.
Foillard 2001 Morgon Côte-du-Py (Beaujolais) – Stunning! Licorice and dark plum with crushed purple flowers and bright acidity. There's incredible freshness and seething complexity here, and many, many years of development ahead. Mindblowing Beaujolais. Around the table, people who've never had "wine epiphanies" have one with this wine, and it's joyful to see.
There's also a brilliant TBA by the glass, full of peach, sweet apple, and striking mineral clarity in a profound, tightly-knit package. Unfortunately, I fail to write down the name, and now its identity is lost forever.
bacar – After dinner, we retire with one of Theresa's clients to this formerly-yet-still-desperately-clinging-to-hip wine bar, which soldiers on gamely despite being stranded by the ongoing dot-com bust in its neighborhood. A jazz trio is just wrapping up for the night, and we sip glasses of wine that, unfortunately I don't identify very well in my notes, including an Alzinger 2000 Grüner Veltliner (with some late-harvest designation) that's somewhat innocuous, showing light but long sweet celery flavors. However, I do take special note of a second wine:
Heidler 1999 Weissburgunder Beerenauslese (Kamptal) – Gorgeous pear pierced by shafts of brilliant white light, intense yet lithe with a pretty grace note of botrytis. Wouldn't it be nice if every restaurant had this sort of thing by the glass?