Two documentaries
Over the weekend, I borrowed two documentaries about wine from the local library and watched them. My thoughts on both films follow.
John Cleese's Wine For The ConfusedWhile wine can at times be a stuffy subject for aristocratic snobs, John Cleese attempted to bring it down to the level of the average person while still explaining some of the more intellectual levels of becoming a wine connoisseur. Unfortunately, poor camera work, poor editing and poor sound mar this otherwise educational and entertaining introduction to wine.
This short (under an hour in length) film discusses the most common varietals while also introducing the viewer to what goes on at a wine tasting. Cleese also visits several wineries in California, where he speaks with experts about some of the fundamentals of wine (tannins, for instance). He does all of this in a non-elitist manner, making for an entertaining film that offers a good introduction for people just starting to wrap their brains around the intellectual pursuits of wine.
MondovinoMondovino, on the other hand, takes a very different approach. It focuses on the differences between Old World (specifically, France and Italy) and New World (mostly the U.S., but also Argentina and Brazil) winemaking. The film has more to do with the industry and artistic nature of wine, and how differences between the Old World and the New World, as well as differences between those in each region, create much conflict between all involved.
For those not in the mood for subtitles, Mondovino should be left on the shelf, as the majority of the film is in French and Italian. Additionally, the documentary tends to drag after awhile (it does run for over two hours), as the edits continue to bounce back and forth between several major figures in the wine industry, some of which continue to say the same thing over and over again. In fact, you can almost see the chip on the shoulder of some of the Old World winemakers.
However, Mondovino offers an interesting glimpse into the highly chaotic world of wine and what many behind the labels see in the LCBO actually think about the past, present and future of the industry. Some poor camera work and shot framing spoils the film a little bit, but otherwise, the odd microphone creeping the frame and the several bouncy shots can be ignored.
An introduction to wine
A little over a week ago, I attended what was essentially an introduction to wine seminar at the main branch of the Ajax Public Library. During a visit about two or three weeks prior, I discovered a notice posted on the event board that stated there would be a talk on wine on the evening of January 18th. I signed up for the event and then anxiously awaited the night of the 18th.
My expectations, I admit, were not high. Frankly, I don't consider Durham Region very high on the cultural sophistication level, and I would not have been surprised to find five or six people who wanted to talk about the merits of saving money by going to local make-your-own-wine shop. I should have known better.
When I arrived, I walked into a room that was quickly filling up with various types of people -- mostly an older crowd, of course. After all, fine appreciation of wine is still not a pastime of the younger crowd, although I do have to admit I was a good six or seven years ago than the youngest oenophile in attendance (not counting the eight-year-old in the audience, of course).
Even more unexpected was the fact that I knew the speaker. Jeff McIlveen was a history teacher at my high school (both of them, in fact) who taught the Modern Western Civilizations course I took during my goof-off semester. Of the three classes I took during that semester, Jeff's (I still want to refer to him as Mr. McIlveen) class was the only one in which I did all of the readings and all of the work. It was a fascinating class, but it was also the most serious of the courses I took during those five months.
About eleven or twelve years later, he was educating an audience of adults on a very specific aspect of modern western civilizations. While wine would not have fit into any high school curriculum, it's impossible to deny the importance of wine -- or drink of any kind -- on the civilizations of the last several hundred (possibly even thousand) years.
After the talk was completed, I wandered up to chat with the man who taught me all about Louis XIV. I felt like a minor niner when I approached him. He was, after all, the history teacher on staff who actually frightened me a little when I was a teenager; that is, until he taught me and I discovered what a great and knowledgeable teacher he was.
Shortly afterwards, Jeff, his wife and several others who attended the talk retired to the Safari in Pickering Village for an impromptu wine tasting. Jeff had warned the Safari we would be coming and convinced the manager to offer us tasters so we could sample various wines. Three tasters made up a full glass, and the Safari charged us only for a single glass of wine (I should mention the Safari is not a cheap restaurant).
As others started to choose their three samples, I felt like a neophyte. Frankly, it seemed as if I was trying to fit into a higher class of people than myself, but perhaps that's simply because I haven't had the opportunity to sample wines with anyone who is actually a knowledgeable oenophile. During our evening, I explained to my new friends that while I had enjoyed red wine for years, it wasn't until the last year that I had become more serious about my education in all things vino. For the most part, I consume bottles by myself with nobody to discuss the wines I buy with.
You can probably imagine how much of a treat that night was for me. I almost felt ... classy.
Choosing three wines from the list proved to be somewhat difficult. Since I have drank more than my fair share of Merlots, I wanted to avoid that grape. Unfortunately, the Pinot Noir on the list was unavailable. I settled on the Rosemount Estates Shiraz, the Campofiorin Masi (for something different) and the Ravenswood Zinfandel.
Others had ordered the Zin, and so I felt obliged to give it a try. In my own snobbish way, I tend to look down on Zinfandels. They are, or at least were, fashionably trendy for awhile, and I remember seeing several Zin rosés before. It's almost embarrassing to admit I find the Zinfandel that night was the best of the three. I just wish I had scribbled down some tasting notes.
Going from memory, though, I'll try to sum up my opinions on the three wines:
Ravenswood Zinfandel -- This fruity, light-bodied wine surprised me. It was had a nice, crisp taste. If not for the tasting, I probably would never have ordered a Zinfandel, so I'm thankful that I got the chance to try it in this way. It was definitely my favourite wine of the evening.
Rosemount Estates Shiraz -- My recollection is the Shiraz was a more medium-bodied wine. It was a close second to the Zinfandel. I would really like to explore Shiraz wines more.
Campofiorin Masi -- The thing I remember most about this disappointing wine was its smell. Although I didn't voice my opinion of it, my initial thoughts were that it smelled like sweaty gym socks. Despite the smell, I still drank it. Thankfully, it didn't taste like sweaty gym socks, but something about the taste was off. I wish I could remember what it was. Now, I would like to try this wine again, as it was the only Italian wine of the three I chose, and the rule of thumb with Italian wines is they're best drank with food (and I wasn't eating).
And that was my night of wine education and tasting. I really need to determine which, if any, of my friends are budding oenophiles like myself and start getting together with them for tastings. The only wine lover I know for sure is my friend Tom Venetis, but unfortunately I rarely see him.
Wine For Dummies
When the decision was made to become serious about wine, the challenge I faced was finding a starting point. There are books upon books about wine, but determining which one would be best for a beginner without much technical knowledge about wine was extraordinarily difficult.
For some time, I Googled my way through the world of wine, stumbling upon some less than useful sites and some others that seemed like a good gateway if not for the cost. For instance, there is a local organization called the
Winetasters Society of Toronto, but the cost of joining and becoming active in Winetasters was too much. Unfortunately, there didn't seem to be any more such groups in the Toronto area, although I have recently heard of another organization called the Pickering Wine Guild, which does not appear to currently have a Website.
In my search for a simple starting point, I finally cast aside my pride and bought a copy of
Wine For Dummies by Ed McCarthy and Mary Ewing-Mulligan. The Dummies book turned out to be a good place to begin my journey, although its focus on American and European wines meant it barely mentioned Canadian wineries or the Canadian wine industry, a topic I have a great interest in. What little was written about VQA made no sense to me whatsoever (but similar wine standards mentioned from elsewhere in the world were likewise confusing).
Additionally, there were still a few things that I didn't quite understand when I finally flipped to the last page of the book. Perhaps I had missed something in my reading of the book, but I had failed to grasp the concept of tannins. It wasn't until very recently, when I attended an introduction to wine seminar at the Ajax Public Library hosted by Jeff McIlveen, that I finally started to understand what oenophiles are referring to when they mention the tannins in a wine.
Following Philippe...
The truth, they say, is in the wine. Anyone who has had more than his or her fair share of a bottle (or two, or three) can attest to the validity of that statement. After awhile, the truth just flows out of your mouth like the wine flows out of the bottle. The world is your glass, but someone has forgotten to put a stopper in the bottle.
Or maybe that's just me. While I can on occasion be the mysterious, silent type, nothing can as quickly turn me into a babbling idiot than an unhealthy portion of alcohol. What can I say? I enjoy my drinks.
So why a blog about wine? I am definitely not a wine expert, nor do I pretend to be one. I also have no interest in trying become an expert on the level of a
Robert Parker, although I think there's a lot I can learn from the man with the million dollar nose. To be frank, I wouldn't even consider myself a connoisseur, but more of an avid wine drinker with delusions of grandeur.
The goal here is to have fun while giving myself a good justification to explore different wines from all over the world (and hopefully explore a few wineries, as well). I have been thinking of doing something like this for awhile, but I've been concerned about how to work wine writing into my
regular blog. I feel I would bore my readers with detail upon detail of my efforts in becoming an educated wine drinker, and since I'm really doing this for myself, I thought it would be prudent to remove this from the inanity of regular ramblings and give it its own space.
So why the name Following Philippe? The answer to that question is fairly simple, even if it does require a quick explanation. Although it has only been in the last year I have been trying to truly educate myself on the process of making wine and what makes a good wine, I have enjoyed a specific wine for many years -- Philippe de Rothschild's Merlot. I believe the first vintage I ever drank was 1998 or 1999, bought right out of the LCBO and consumed a short while later.
Prior to my introduction to Baron de Rothschild, my only exposure to wine had been the various whites (mostly from Kressman) that my parents drank once or twice a year on special occasions. As I have never developed a taste for white wine, it was the baron's Merlot that changed the world of wine for me. So in that regards, ever since -- to paraphrase Kevin Smith -- I've been Following Philippe.
