I had a lovely wine Thursday night. It made sense for an email for at least three reasons.
1. It’s summer. It’s hot in most places. This wine is white. What’s more it’s a refreshing white. It is perfect for the next few months of warm weather. And it’ll be perfect for 12 months from now if you still have some left. Not that you can’t drink white wine in winter. I would never say something silly like that. Not that I would never say anything silly. I would never claim that, but this wine is perfect for summer. That is my only claim. For now.
2. It’s well priced. People seem to like value in their summer wines. This is a whole bunch of value.
3. I find it delicious. For a number of sub-reasons. It’s delicious in that if you put it in most anyone’s glass: your Chardonnay friend, your Muscadet friend, your martini friend, they all like it. That’s pretty cool, right? It’s also delicious in the “Man, I got a great deal,” way. There is nothing better than sitting with a glass and feeling happy about your wine-buying prowess. It just keeps getting even better with each sip when you’re thinking like that. Finally it’s delicious in “my way.” I love wines that exist in more than one dimension. It is easy to assume that everyday wines are simple because they don’t cost much, but luckily that’s not always the case. There are certain wines that offer more than just alcohol and fruit flavors, and those are the ones I am always looking for. This is a poster child. It has a mineral core that moves to and from the palate. The fruit is a clean, pure amalgamation of cantaloupe, honeydew, and some other melon that I have invented in my mind to match this taste profile. It is duality defined, and I can’t get enough of this kind of wine.
That’s where the melons and minerals title came from. Personally I love it when a wine achieves true minerality and charming fruit. You have Chablis and Muscadet which are undeniably stony and mineral. You have other wines that have delicious, ripe fruit. Rarely do you have both. Many times minerality comes at the expense of fully ripe fruit, or is it vice versa? Whichever, it makes for two camps of wine lovers. Those that love the dry smack of mineral and those who need lots of fruit (your Muscadet Friends and Chardonnay Friends, respectively.) And they don’t always get along with each other. But then one day the clouds part and a wine comes along that can bring these people together. Suddenly Zinfandel lovers are frolicking with Francophiles. Or not. The wine world may never find true peace and understanding, but this wine will at least bring a reprieve from the Old World snobbery and New World machismo. Until the bottle’s finished anyway. – Ben Jordan