Busy, busy, and busy. Settling into a new place, figuring out the new job… yeah, all the excuses. I have not been attentive with my Substack, which has been in the back of my head for some time. I thought I might leave a quick note on wines that were memorable rather than writing an in-depth, long article.

Definitely not intended, but it turned out to be German week. The final week of April was my last week of the first academic year I completed here. I wanted to celebrate surviving in a new place that is completely different from what I knew, and finishing the year strong. I wanted to open things that are really me — ones I would love to drink.

2023 Peter Lauer Kern Riesling N°9

Peter Lauer’s Riesling is always a winner. I have such a soft spot for off-dry Riesling. On one of my trips to Woodland Wine Merchant to pick up my accumulated wine cases (it is my go-to shop in Nashville), I asked Jami to recommend some bottles of off-dry Riesling. She pointed me toward the 2023 Peter Lauer Kern Riesling No. 9 and the 2023 Dönnhoff Niederhäuser Klamm Riesling Kabinett. The Dönnhoff was enjoyed early in the year — gone very quickly.

I opened the Peter Lauer in April to celebrate wrapping up the academic year. It was delicious. I don’t care what others say about off-dry wine, because I love it. The laser-sharp acidity is well balanced by the residual sugar, which also contributes to a nicely coating mouthfeel.

What I love about off-dry Riesling is that it pairs so easily with a lot of Asian food. I have done this many times with Thai and Indian cuisines, but this time I paired it with Pig Trotter (족발). It is a rather common dish if you’re in Korea, but in Middle Tennessee, it is a rare find and quite the delicacy. Pig trotter is boiled in a broth made of soy sauce, spices to mute the pork smell, soybean paste, garlic, ginger, black vinegar, and so on. Once boiled and cooled, it is served sliced. It was a lovely pairing — the Riesling’s sharp acidity cut right through the richness and gelatinousness of the pork.

2023 Wasenhaus Spätburgunder

A few days later, with not much going on, I wanted to open something on a whim. I had been holding off on the Wasenhaus Spätburgunder for a while — also from one of my Woodland Wine Merchant trips. Remembering my time in New York and New Jersey, Wasenhaus wines typically sell out within hours of hitting the market. In Nashville, I was lucky to find their entry-level Pinot Noir without a fight. When I asked Jami about her Wasenhaus tasting experience, she said she really loved it and found it incredibly easy to drink.

And it really was delicious. It took some time to open up. Upon uncorking, the wine was quite muted, but as it breathed, the aromas and flavors started unleashing themselves and filled the dining room.

The hue was more longer-macerated rosé-like than a traditional Pinot Noir. It reminded me of Sylvain Pataille’s Fleur de Pinot Marsannay Rosé, which I enjoyed last summer — another wine I found marvellous.

I go back and forth with natural wines. When it is the right one, it can be truly amazing and offer an unexpected experience. Because of that, I am extremely careful with purchasing them, relying on recommendations from professionals and winemakers I already trust. This Spätburgunder was definitely natty — but it was so pure and clean that the wine showed the best of both worlds, natty and conventional.

As a Jura wine lover, I might have called it a Poulsard if presented to me blind. It had a slight haziness, a juicy quality, lots of red fruit notes, and a touch of yeastiness. In fact, my wife said it reminded her of tasting Ganevat’s Cuvée de l’Enfant Terrible, which is made with Poulsard.

I would definitely purchase this Wasenhaus wine again and let it age for some time. I want to see how it evolves and whether it would still trick me into thinking it could be a Poulsard. Only time will tell.

Music:

As for the music pairing — these are subjectively great wines that can also be objectively great, depending on how open-minded you are. I highly recommend them to any wine enthusiast, because I think everyone should step outside their comfort zone and experience something different.

The same goes for music. Not every piece speaks to everyone, but it is all worth at least one listen — and then you can decide if it is for you or not. With that sentiment in mind, I want to pair my German wine experience with Kraftwerk’s Tour de France.

A funny story: the melody Kraftwerk used is a direct quote from Hindemith’s Flute Sonata. I never knew this until someone commented on a performance video of mine years ago — a delightful little discovery.

I am not a Kraftwerk aficionado per se, but I have deep respect for their work. The group certainly carved out their own sound and created an entirely new musical subgenre.

Just like these wines and the music — which may not be for everyone — everything in life is still worth trying, because it is good and genuinely different. It might open up a new appreciation for something you never actively sought out.

B-rolls:

Photos of all the other wines mentioned for a comparison.

• 2021 Sylvain Pataille Fleur de Pinot Marsannay Rosé

• 2020 Jean-François Ganevat Poulsard Cuvée de L’Enfant Terrible

This wine was enjoyed a while ago. However, I still think about this wine when I imagine what a good German Riesling tastes like. This, in a way, became the wine to set the standard.

It was a weekend in mid-October. I wanted to uncork something that I was looking forward to trying. It was Keller’s Riesling “Von der Fels.” I bought this wine from a wine shop in Atlanta on my visit to last year’s National Flute Association Convention.

I discovered this wine shop by accident as I was in a car that drove by it. I went back to pick up a few things and thought that I may enjoy this Riesling. For whatever reason, this wine and I had a strong connection.

Riesling whether it’s bone dry or off-dry or sweet is one of my go-to varieties. I love opening one for every occasion, regardless of the season, and also depending on the mood, I can choose the sweetness of it. It is such a versatile variety.

As soon as I uncorked this wine, there was a slight reductive tone, so I let it blow it out. After a few minutes, the wine started showing beautiful array of lemon, lemon zest, orange, orange peel, kumquat, blossom, beeswax, yellow apple, apple butter, apple cobbler, cooked apple, peach, apricot, wet stone, petrol, pineapple, candid ginger, elder flower, gooseberry, and green apple. I could also sense these notes on my palate, which was even better experience than just savoring the smell of it.

What a pleasure it was to experience this wide spectrum of flavors and notes! I kept tasting, swirling, smelling, tasting, and so on. That crisp acidity, zingy acidity kept me salivating and wanting more of it. I had to come to my senses. I had to prepare meals. A bottle of wine is not the main dish for dinner.

I wanted to prepare something a little beyond my ability. I wanted to be more ambitious than my skill level. As Riesling compliments spicy food quite well, I wanted to pan sear chicken thigh and pair with Gochujang (Korean red pepper paste) sauce accompanied by roasted scallions and carrots. Multitasking is not my language. However, my wife was buddying with patience. I managed everything under control so that we have something to enjoy with the wine.

Of course, the Gochujang sauce and Riesling worked quite beautifully together. Farm raised chicken’s (a perk of living in Tennessee) richness was well complemented by wine’s zingy acidity. The sweetness of roasted vegetables were also in a quite nice harmony with the wine.

When we open a bottle of wine, we try very hard to drink in moderation. We rarely finish a bottle on the same day (it only happens once a year or so though), and see how it develops on the second day. We, however with this one, took three days to finish it, and got to experience the three-day development.

The second day, I steamed cod fillets. While steaming, I made sauce with white wine and butter. A quite simple dish, yet it still was beyond my technical set. I had to watch a few YouTube videos in advance to learn the techniques.

High acidity Riesling was a lovely friend of the cod fillet dish. I always find cod as fish without much flavors, and the butter sauce was a good companion that bridged between the fish and wine. It is always so difficult to find the good pairing with wine and food, but what is more difficult to me is finding the right balance of complexity of wine and food.

The third day, at my wife’s request, we made Pajeon (Korean scallion pancake) and Kimchijeon (Kimchi pancake). Often these are (deceivingly) rich as they are fried in hot oil. Pajeon pairs quite nicely with specially made dipping sauce (equal part of soy sauce, vinegar, and a pinch of gochugaru, red pepper flake) to balance its richness. Kimchijoen, on the other hand, does not need much dipping in my opinion (however, people still dip it) because Kimchi’s acidity helps mellowing down the richness. Because of their culinary traits, I thought the Riesling would pair lovely, and it did.

What impressed me the most was that the wine (paired with three completely different spectrum of the food and cuisine) still remained strong, retain its character, and complimented the diverse natures of the food.

Never once, but I managed to nail the wine and food pairing consecutively this time. This was a great feeling of small win for the week. Will I able to brag about it with my co-workers and friends? Absolutely not. But my thinking and imagining finally paid off gracefully, and I was just so happy to experience the small win.

Thankfully, this wine and winemaker are both quite available in my area as well. Which means, I get to try different cuvées of Keller or even stock up the one I tried and see how it evolves in the cellar over years.

I never forgot about the music pairing. This wine stood up quite beautifully and showed its versatility nicely over a three-day period. One note showing more dominance than the other but still balancing quite nicely, it really was a beautiful development that I got to experience. As sipping this and reflecting on it, I thought of one unaccompanied flute piece that I have forgotten about. It is Sonata (Appassionata), op.140 composed by Sigfrid Karg-Elert in 1917.

Sigfrid Karg-Elert (1877-1933) was a German composer, organist, and music theorist. He lived through the most interesting turn-of-the-century in human history. During this period, the music became more complex, dense, multi-dimensional, diverse, (in a way tormented too). All of a sudden, it completely collapsed and became atonal. The music without any harmony and form. The music driven by ideas, logic, and patterns. It was a denial of multi-century establishments. Karg-Elert lived through that turmoil as a composer.

I feel like there must have been more people who were looking back than forward. Meaning that more people were less prone to driving the progressive movement of art and music. I think that is when the social and artistic anxiety came through and reflected on music from this particular time period.

What has happened during this period in flute world, the new Boehm-system flute was introduced in mid-19th century and has been a standard flute in major European orchestras in half-a-century prior to this composition. Karg-Elert was possibly well aware of this instrument and its potential (playing louder, quieter, faster, slower, more elegant, more robust than the pre-Boehm-era flutes).

Karg-Elert’s Sonata Appassionata is a short piece. However, it has got everything in it: beauty, anxiety, anger, tenderness, elegance, passion, reverie, and rigidity. In this less-than-5-minute composition, the flute (a single-lined melodic instrument) has to express all that. It truly is the melodramatic monodrama that one has to express through.

I love this piece. When I first learned it (in high school), I think I brought out the passion predominantly (as the title suggested). Learning more about the music history, world history, music theory, I may have a different way of interpreting this now.

Over the three-day period of experiencing the wine, my view and understanding of the same wine changed. This experience made me think of the piece how I would see it so differently now than twenty years ago.

Being a wine lover in Tennessee can feel especially lonely when you don’t yet have a community that shares the same passion. I know I should work on building one, but it’s hard to know where and how to begin. It will come, I think, as I meet more people and start inviting them to casual tastings at home.

However, our good friends from Texas came to visit us during the holiday season. One of them and I used to attend a summer music festival in Lake George, New York, and I would often bring a few bottles along. We shared many memorable wines together. As he has grown more deeply interested in fine wine over the past few years like me, I’ve enjoyed sharing a wide range of styles with him—from mature Bordeaux and Burgundy to funky Alsatian bottles and New World wines.

This time, I wanted to open wines that felt truly special to celebrate both our reunion (since we no longer go to that summer music festival) and the holidays. I planned ahead, making a list of bottles I wanted to open and what I wanted to cook to pair them with.

These are the wines I opened with our friends over the holiday season (minus the Hiyu wine—I added it to the lineup because the bottle was hanging around and I didn’t want it to be left out).

From the left:

• 2016 Pierre Gimonnet & Fils Champagne Special Club Grands Terroirs de Chardonnay

• 2021 Domaine Labet Fleur de Savagnin En Chalasse

• 2020 Pierre Girardin Puligny-Montrachet Les Folatières

• 2018 Cappellano Barolo Piè Rupestris Otin Fiorin (Gabutti)

• 1979 Moulin Touchais Coteaux du Layon

On New Year’s Eve, I opened the Pierre Gimonnet and Pierre Girardin (the two Pierres). My friend had gifted me the Pierre Girardin back when we were on the East Coast, and I had always wanted to open it with him and his wife. So this felt like the perfect time and occasion to do so.

I prepared two different dishes:

1. Vegetables:

   1. Turnip steak (steamed, then pan-seared with soy sauce, fish sauce, maple syrup, and Madeira)

   2. Roasted delicata squash

   3. Pan-seared broccoli rabe with parsnip and cauliflower purée

2. Bird:

   1. Fricassée de Poulet à l’Ancienne

I paired the vegetable dishes with the Champagne. The slight bitterness of the Blanc de Blancs complemented the broccoli rabe and balanced the natural sweetness of the turnip and delicata squash. The bubbles and the smooth parsnip purée created a completely different mouthfeel, producing an intriguing sensation on the palate.

Specifically, the Champagne showed lovely acidity, a smooth mousse of bubbles, a subtle bitter finish, and full aromas and flavors of bruised apple, green apple, lemon, lemon zest, wet stone, and fresh unripe apricot. I think the wine would develop even more complexity if left to age for a decade or so, but in my humble opinion, every good wine is enjoyable at any stage of its evolution.

The chicken dish was a new recipe for me, but I decided to take a chance—I like to believe in a bit of beginner’s luck. As it turned out, it came out just the way I hoped. I paired it with Pierre Girardin’s Puligny-Montrachet, which showcased abundant stone fruit and citrus, balanced by subtle secondary nuances from 50% new oak for 12 months and an additional 8 months in stainless steel. After a period of feeling uninspired to taste different wines, these lovely bottles reignited my love for wine, and I was so happy to enjoy them with my friends.

For dessert, I made a soy sauce caramel inspired by Cote’s version over soft serve. While theirs was obviously in a different league, I was quite pleased with my own attempt—especially considering it was only my third try.

After dinner, I started a fire pit and brought the leftover wines to the backyard. The air was just chilly enough that the wines were naturally chilled to the perfect drinking temperature.

A family tradition I’ve been keeping is pairing Jura white wine with Ddeokguk (떡국), which literally translates to rice cake soup. This Korean dish is traditionally eaten on the first day of the year—and often again on Lunar New Year.

My family almost never adds Mandu (dumplings) to the soup. However, my wife grew up enjoying dumplings in her Ddeokguk, and I’ve come to like it as well, so I made it with Mandu. Without a Hmart nearby, I had to improvise with an anchovy-based broth (traditionally it’s made with beef or beef bone stock) and ended up using the wrong type of dumplings. Still, given the circumstances, I managed to make a decent pot of Ddeokguk.

A while ago, I had spoken to my friends (the ones visiting) about my love for Jura wines. They told me that they went to a nearby wine shop and purchased a bottle to try, but didn’t have a good experience—it seemed corked, and they never went back to exchange it. I wanted this visit to give them a proper Jura wine experience.

I’ve collected quite a few Jura wines over the years. Since they’re becoming more popular, I always grab a good bottle when I see one. So this felt like the perfect occasion to share a wine I truly wanted them to experience.

I uncorked Domaine Labet’s Savagnin en Chalasse, which I brought from Jersey and have been saving for the right occasion. Its high, pleasant acidity is layered with aromas and flavors of apricot, peach, nectarine, lemon, salinity, candied peach, ginger, lemon zest, and subtle baking spices. I particularly love how the salinity of a maturing white Jura pairs with the savoriness and umami of Ddeokguk. The wine’s acidity cuts through the rice cake’s texture and the richness of the broth. It’s always a good excuse to open a bottle of white Jura with friends who haven’t experienced these wines—provided they’re ready for a little “funk.”

After exploring Nashville on one of the days, we came back and I made a ragù. I cut chuck roast into small pieces since I didn’t have enough time to cook and shred it. Instead of using celery, I added green onions to bring out sweetness and balance the acidity of the San Marzano tomatoes.

To go with the ragù, I opened a bottle of Barolo—the only Nebbiolo in my cellar. The pairing just felt right in my head, and it turned out to be a good match. I had tried this wine (the 2019 vintage) before moving to Tennessee; fellow wine-loving friends had brought a bottle to share as a generous goodbye gift. The 2019 vintage was more expressive than the 2018, showing greater elegance and vibrancy. The 2018, however, was still very pleasant as it began to open up. Once again, I was reminded that vintage still matters—but I wonder: can good winemakers consistently create excellent wines regardless of vintage? That’s something I think only experience will tell.

Our friends also brought a large loaf of panettone from Texas. They told us they buy some kind of Christmas bread every year and wanted to share it with us. I had just the right bottle to pair with the dried-fruit-filled panettone: an older sweet Chenin Blanc, possibly a library release from the domaine. When I buy sweet wines, I usually stick to half bottles or 50 cl, but I gambled and purchased a full 75 cl. Luckily, it was a perfect pairing, and we ended up enjoying a little bit after every dinner. One of the joys of sweet wine is its long shelf life after opening—it usually stays good for four to five days, in my experience.

So many things happened in 2025—good, bad, and everything in between. Some moments I enjoyed, others I didn’t. But it’s all in the past now. What lies ahead is happiness, friendship, new adventures, and more exciting wines to uncork with the people I care about. Happy 2026!!

The weather has been getting somewhat warmer (at least where I am). Two years ago, I shared my definition of summer wines in a post titled Before It’s Too Late. I described them as fun, entertaining, party-starting, and extra-delicious—and I still believe that holds true.

Although I have no travel plans this summer (no festivals) yet, that doesn’t mean I can’t have fun with friends. So, I went through my wine collection and picked out a few that would be perfect to uncork and enjoy together.

Let me show you the candidates.

🍷 About the Wines

from left to right:

2022 Jean-Pierre Robinot (L'Opera des Vins) Fêtembulles

• This is part of the 2025 Funky Project. Robinot is a winemaker I’ve been curious about for a while—I see his wines often in shops, and they’re highly praised by natural wine enthusiasts. This Pét-Nat, made from Chenin Blanc from the Loire (one of my favorite white varieties!), is sure to bring joy with its fine bubbles.

2021 Domaine Sylvain Pataille Marsannay Rosé Fleur de Pinot

• Pataille’s wines are always excellent. I’ve heard they’ve become more expensive since his plots were reclassified. His Bourgogne Rouge and Bourgogne Aligoté were unforgettable, and along with this rosé, I also have a white and a red. I have high hopes for this one—I love pairing rosé wines with food.

2020 Dureuil-Janthial Rully 1er Cru Le Meix Cadot Blanc

• A fantastic Burgundian winemaker! I particularly love Dureuil-Janthial’s white wines for their structure, richness, and crispness. I’m sure this one will be excellent as well—and I’ll definitely be inspired to write about it.

2022 Gustinella Jungimmune Etna Bianco

• I first tasted this at a Sicilian wine tasting at Jersey Wine & Spirits a couple of years ago. It stood out that evening, so I picked up a bottle. As I plan ahead, I’m considering dedicating a year to exploring island wines—this one, like many others, has such a unique terroir and character. This is a blend of Grecanico Dorato, Minnella, Albanella, Moscatella, and Trebbiano.

2022 La Spinetta (Rivetti) Timorasso Colli Tortonesi Derthona

• A friend gifted me this bottle, featuring a variety I’m not familiar with at all. Based on my research, its crispness and high minerality make it a perfect summer afternoon sip—whether while listening to music or chatting with my wife. Perhaps I’ll sear some swordfish or mahi mahi to go with it.

2022 Anders Frederik Steen & Anne Bruun Blauert Hold Me Closer

• Another wine from the 2025 Funky Project. I’m not sure if Steen named this after the Britney Spears and Elton John song of the same title, but it crossed my mind. I’ve read his book on winemaking philosophy and daily reflections—he’s certainly an intriguing winemaker who pushes boundaries and crafts unique expressions each year. That’s why I thought this would make a great funky summer wine.

Conclusion and afterthoughts

Summer, summer, summer—I thrive in the heat. I get so excited when I can feel the warmth on my skin. As a musician, summer is a time to travel for festivals, take a break to recharge, or go home. It’s a season filled with joy, growth, and relaxation—and wine is the perfect companion for all of it!

• What are your favorite summer wines?

• What summer activities do you like to pair with wine?

• Do you have any favorite vacation wines?

Got any other opinions? Feel free to share them in the comments!

Sometimes, watching the sun go down is a quiet, beautiful moment. Golden light drapes over building walls, and the last warmth of the day lingers on your skin. Sundown is often seen as the fading of one’s prime, yet rarely is it spoken of as a graceful descent. One weekend in March, I had a wine that embodied just that—the art of a noble decline.

I purchased this wine from Flatiron Wine & Spirits’ private cellar sale. I wasn’t familiar with the winemaker, but I knew the significance of Vosne-Romanée, especially its Premier Cru plot, Les Beaux Monts. The 2001 vintage isn’t considered extraordinary, yet I see vintages as expressions of both the year’s growing condition and the winemaker’s ability to tell a story—showcasing their artistry and philosophy.

As I read through community reviews on CellarTracker, fellow wine enthusiasts noted that the wine had passed its prime—yet they still awarded it surprisingly high scores for something beyond its peak. That intrigued me. I began imagining how it might taste and what music I could pair it with. But, of course, you never truly know until you uncork the bottle and take that first sip.

Concerned that the cork might break while pulling, I used my Bilame opener. As I cut the foil, I noticed the cork had expanded slightly, leaving behind a sticky residue. A wave of doubt hit me—was the wine faulty? Still, there was only one way to find out. I carefully eased the cork out; it was quite soft.

🍷 The Wine

So many thoughts and questions filled my mind before and during the opening of the bottle. But the moment I began pouring, they all vanished. A beautiful fragrance of dried roses and blossoms enveloped the kitchen, while sweet aromas of ripe black fruits teased my nose.

The taste was just as captivating. Alongside the fruit notes, the wine unveiled layers of tertiary complexity—forest floor, mushroom, raisin, marzipan, prune, dried cranberry, and dried cherry. It struck a delicate balance between primary, secondary, and tertiary expressions, though the latter had begun to take the lead over the fresh fruit. The wine had likely peaked not long ago and was now in the midst of a graceful decline. But there was nothing regrettable about that—I could still taste and smell all the excitement it once held.

Every note spoke clearly, yet none dominated the others—they were perfectly balanced. It was like a well-harmonized kaleidoscope, but with a sepia-hued film overlay, adding a sense of maturity and age. Unexpected nuances of soy sauce and umami-rich rock salt also emerged, adding to the intrigue.

The real surprise came on the second day. We hadn’t finished the bottle on the first night, and by the next day, the transformation was remarkable. The wine had opened up even more, revealing brighter red fruit notes and a newfound vibrancy. Perhaps it was the overnight oxidation, or maybe it had simply settled into itself, finding equilibrium. I can’t say exactly what changed—but I know it was wonderful.

👨🏻‍💻 Technical Data

For those interested in the technical details from the domaine, here’s an overview. The grapes are entirely destemmed to prevent harsh tannins and green flavors. After a few days of pre-maceration, fermentation takes place in temperature-controlled open stainless steel tanks. Daily pump-overs help extract color and fine tannins, followed by ten days of cuvaison. The wine is then aged in oak barrels for 15 to 18 months, with the proportion of new oak varying between 30% and 80%, depending on the vintage.

🎵 Gabriel Fauré - Nocturne No. 6 in D-flat major, Op. 63

Before opening this wine, as I mentioned earlier, I had countless thoughts—including how I might pair it musically. Without tasting it, I imagined Dido’s Lament (When I Am Laid in Earth) from Purcell’s Dido & Aeneas would be a fitting match. Its calm yet deeply emotional nature seemed to mirror a wine in gentle decline. But once I tasted it, the wine was far more vibrant than I had expected. A reminder never to assume before experiencing something firsthand.

My experience with wine is far more limited than my experience with music. With music—whether by listening, studying the score, or understanding a composer’s style—I can estimate how many hours of practice I’d need before performing it publicly. With wine, I lack that same depth of intuition. Each bottle is a learning experience, and this one, too, taught me something new.

With that in mind, I wanted to deepen my understanding of a well-known composer whose music I had played but knew little about beyond a few pieces—Gabriel Fauré (1845–1924). Often regarded as a traditionalist among his contemporaries, Fauré’s music captures the essence of French elegance during the Belle Époque.

You may recognize some of his most famous works, such as Après un rêve (c. 1865), Violin Sonata No. 1 in A major, Op. 13 (1876), and Sicilienne, Op. 78 (1893). However, I wanted to explore his solo piano works—pieces that were still unfamiliar to me. I began with his Nocturnes, a genre pioneered by the Irish composer John Field and later mastered by Frédéric Chopin. As the name suggests, Nocturnes are inspired by the night—or the emotions it evokes. They are often considered some of the most introspective, sensitive, and personal compositions a composer can write. That’s precisely why I chose to study Fauré through this deeply expressive musical form.

Fauré composed thirteen Nocturnes, collectively known as Les 13 Nocturnes. The complete set spans about an hour and a half—enough to form a beautifully structured recital program.

I debated whether to pair this wine with Nocturne No. 6 or Nocturne No. 13. After listening several times, I chose the sixth. While Nocturne No. 13 is also beautiful, it carries a certain funk—experimenting with dissonances, complex inner melodies, and intricate counterpoint. Written much later in Fauré’s life, it reflects a more mature compositional voice, yet one still eager to explore and push boundaries. In contrast, Nocturne No. 6 has a more traditional sound, making it a better match for this classic, conventional wine.

The Structure

Just before completing the sixth Nocturne, Fauré had composed several works for voice and piano, as well as a few solo piano pieces. His poetic sensibility shines through in this Nocturne, reflecting his compositional maturity. The piece opens with flowing, barcarolle-like arpeggios in the right hand, supporting a lyrical melodic line, while the left hand provides a deep, organ-like pedal foundation. Though written for solo piano, the piece carries the essence of a song or chamber work, its intricate textures woven together with remarkable finesse.

As soon as the D-flat major section ends, the C-sharp minor section follows. While visually this is a drastic change (from five flats to four sharps), sonically it’s not as jarring, since D-flat enharmonically equals C-sharp. It’s simply a shift from major to minor. The horizontal texture—the melody floating above the arpeggios—disappears in this section, replaced by a more vertical structure, accompanied by syncopated figures. Although the melody remains on the beat, the syncopated ostinato contributes to an anxious atmosphere, forward-driving motion, and an unsettled, agitated mood.

The D-flat major theme returns after this section, bringing back the barcarolle-like horizontal character. However, this return functions more as a transition than a true recapitulation or restatement of the theme. This transitional section sets the mood for a key change to A major, while maintaining the same texture. The vertical texture returns when the music moves back to C-sharp minor, fluctuating between vertical and horizontal elements. After journeying through different keys, the music finally settles into its home key. As it does, there’s a sense of calm, almost as if one is glimpsing heaven or paradise.

🎧 Recordings

For a recording recommendation, I would definitely lean toward French pianists—those who grew up with the style and continue to pass down its tradition. I particularly enjoyed Éric Le Sage’s recording, which effortlessly balances elegance and vibrancy.

Beyond Le Sage, I also greatly enjoyed Éric Heidsieck’s recording. The version available on Apple Music is a 2023 remaster, offering a clean and polished sound. Listening to these side by side provides a fascinating contrast between modern and older generations of French performance. It’s nearly impossible to choose a favorite, and ultimately, comparing them in terms of “better” or “worse” feels unnecessary—they are each remarkable in their own way.

I suspect there are other great recordings not available on streaming services, making it a worthwhile personal mission to find a good LP in a record store.

Postlude

This wine, the 2001 Daniel Rion & Fils Vosne-Romanée "Les Beaux Monts" 1er Cru, has undergone twenty-four years of development and maturation, and I was fortunate to experience its final moments of brilliance. The music of Fauré is often under appreciated when we discuss French composers from his time. Although overshadowed by figures like Debussy, Ravel, Bizet, and Massenet, Fauré gifted us many beautiful works that captured the essence of French music, brought poetic qualities to absolute music, and transported us beyond the ordinary.

Inside Burgundy by Jasper Morris

Les Beaux Monts, sometimes written as Beaumonts, is occasionally considered too cool to produce the finest wines, yet it remains known for yielding pure, fruit-forward expressions. Domaine Daniel Rion manages 0.97 hectares of vineyards within Les Beaux Monts. While the book mentions Domaine Daniel Rion and other Rion family producers, it does not dedicate a specific section to this particular winemaker.

Before the game, I made chili—every year, a slightly different version. This time, I simply wanted to find a bottle of wine that would pair well with it.

In the past, I’ve paired chili with a Côtes du Rhône (2022 Domaine Elodie Jaume Côtes du Rhône À en Perdre le Soufre), and it was a great success. There’s something about Grenache, Syrah, and Mourvèdre that complements a slow-cooked chili. It’s probably the spice notes in these varietals.

I didn’t have another Southern Rhône wine on hand, so I wanted to capture something similar yet different in style. That’s when I thought of the California Syrah I bought after tasting it at Jersey Wine & Spirits’ Californian Visionaries seminar in 2023. (To read more about that experience, click HERE.)

Below is the blurb I wrote about the Lillian Syrah.

The 2023 Impression:

2019 Lillian Syrah

Among the standouts of the evening, this particular wine also left a lasting impression. In a nutshell, I could not resist bringing this bottle home, as I had a strong hunch that my wife would thoroughly enjoy it as well. It’s one of those wines that promises to age gracefully in the bottle, evolving and developing even more complex flavors over the years. The only challenge I foresee is my own impatience, as I’m eager to experience its future evolution.

Putting my excitement aside, the pronounced aromas of both fresh and jammy blackberry, black plum, blueberry, vanilla, and sweet spices like nutmeg and cinnamon, with a subtle hint of tobacco, embraced my senses. Upon savoring it, I was treated to a harmonious medley of flavors that not only echoed the notes I detected on the nose but also introduced elements of black currant and a delightful hint of cigar box.

This wine is a project of Maggie Harrison, a true maestro in the world of winemaking. Her journey led her to create the ‘Lillian’ project, an endeavor born out of her love for winemaking, following her work with the renowned Californian winemaker, Sine Qua Non. This wine is nothing short of special and carries with it the mark of a true innovator.

When I first tasted this wine in 2023, I was curious to see how it had evolved after a year and a half in the bottle. As I revisited it, I picked up notes of blackberry, black plum, black cherry, black currant, black pepper, game, cinnamon, nutmeg, vanilla, cream, violet, blossom, bramble, blueberry, stewed fruits, medicinal, cherry cola, parsley, fennel, brown sugar, prune, raisin, dried cherry, oregano, and more.

The 2025 Impression:

I enjoyed this wine over the course of three days. (My wife and I are extremely mindful of alcohol consumption, so we rarely finish a bottle in one sitting.) This allowed me to observe how the wine developed over time. On the second day, I felt it could still open up further—the stewed fruit notes became more pronounced, and the tannins softened compared to the night before. By the third day, the wine had entered its decline, but that didn’t mean it had become undrinkable. Its acidity became more noticeable, highlighting fresher red fruit notes. Each stage of the wine was paired with leftover chili from the Super Bowl night.

The wine was excellent. Personally I don’t typically seek out jammy, full-bodied, or intensely rich wines. However, I enjoyed every drop and gained a deeper appreciation for American viticulture and winemaking. A carefully crafted wine like this always reminds me that good wine is good wine, regardless of style or variety.

Music to go with …

Based on my experience with this wine, I wanted to find a piece that carried warmth through the sound of strings—something not too long, yet rich with musical material and held together by impeccable structure.

I have always loved the music of Amy Beach. While her works are now widely performed, they deserve even greater recognition. Her Quartet for Strings (in One Movement), Op. 891 is believed to be her only composition for string quartet. The piece opens with an atmospheric introduction, followed by a mysterious solo viola interlude that leads into the quartet’s entrance theme.

The string quartet has been a dominant genre throughout classical music history. Many great composers—Mozart, Beethoven, Haydn, Mendelssohn, Dvořák, Bartók, Shostakovich, and countless others—have mastered and refined this highly polished art form. Their contemporaries and successors followed in their footsteps, contributing to its rich tradition. It is common to find multiple string quartets in a composer’s catalog. Yet Amy Beach wrote only one. Did she simply have no interest in the genre?

To give some background on this piece, Beach was inspired by three Inuit tunes, which she wove into the composition as recurring themes. She sketched the quartet in 1921 while in New Hampshire and completed it in 1929 with minor revisions. The piece premiered in Rome during one of her winter stays, performed by a local string quartet. Several more performances followed during her lifetime.

This quartet is simply remarkable. While it is technically in G minor, it never fully settles, instead traveling chromatically throughout. The atmospheric introduction feels like an homage to the opening of Tristan und Isolde, with unresolved harmonic progressions, chromatic rises and falls, and a syncopated melodic line that heightens the tension. The solo viola melody—the first of the Inuit themes Beach incorporated—appears three times. It resembles a recitativo: not quite virtuosic enough to be a cadenza, yet unmistakably a wordless statement. What was Amy Beach trying to express through the voice of the viola?

The second Inuit melody emerges immediately after the viola solo, as the rest of the strings join in. This piece is highly thematic and motivic. While the themes are based on Inuit melodies, the musical motifs are primarily driven by gesture, harmony, and rhythm. Even though the piece begins without a distinct melodic line, the momentum never falters—much like Richard Wagner’s music. In his operas, the music serves as a continuous narrative rather than merely a structural element, flowing uninterrupted until the final curtain. Similarly, even when it seems like Beach’s quartet is reaching the end of a section, the harmony remains unresolved, giving way to new material with shifts in dynamics, tempo, and rhythm.

The third Inuit melody appears in the Allegro Molto section, which is set at a notably faster tempo. While the previous musical material felt more linear, this new section is distinctly vertical. This chirpy yet anxious passage reminds me of the Scherzo movement from Dvořák’s Second String Quintet. The shift from compound duple meter to simple duple meter, along with the transformation of triplets into dotted rhythms, signals a change in texture. If this were an opera, this moment would mark a shift in the protagonist’s emotions—perhaps a turning point in their love story.

Returning to the compound duple meter, Beach heightens the drama by introducing a fugal entry. Incorporating a fugue2 is a bold move, incorporating the piece with the glimpse of Bach and Beethoven. Given that this piece is only 13 minutes long, Beach does not develop the fugue extensively. However, this fugal section—though brief—is a striking addition, enhancing the drama and keeping listeners on the edge of their seats.

Following the fugue, the “Scherzo” returns, the viola Recitativo reappears, and the piece concludes with its Tristan homage. The melodic material, rooted in Inuit themes and folk influences, evokes the spirit of nationalistic composers like Dvořák and Smetana. In a way, this piece serves as a tribute to America's unique cultural and historical landscape—a true expression of Americana.

For a 13-minute work, this quartet covers a remarkable amount of material, packed with rich musical elements that keep the ear engaged. That’s precisely why I chose this piece to pair with the Lillian Syrah—both are layered with complexity, depth, and structure, offering an experience that unfolds beautifully over time.

During the Californian Visionaries seminar two years ago, I enjoyed how this wine was showing. I knew it would be the perfect pairing for a hearty meal. A cold winter day (Punxsutawney Phil didn’t make an appearance the week before the Super Bowl) called for just the right wine to enjoy with chili while watching America’s game day.

On a side note, winemaker Maggie Harrison is a highly skilled artisan who creates beautiful, expressive wines that reflect both terroir and complexity. She is best known for her work at Sine Qua Non, one of America’s most renowned cult wineries. Now, besides the Lillian project, she produces wines under the Antica Terra label, an exclusive Oregon-based winery. Antica Terra’s wines are difficult to find and celebrated for their depth, complexity, and unparalleled quality.

Just as Harrison is a trailblazer in the American wine scene, composer Amy Beach holds a significant place in the world of music. Her works are beautiful, expressive, and meticulously crafted. If you haven’t yet explored her music, I highly recommend doing so—it will be a rewarding experience. Beyond composing, Beach was also a champion for women in music. She founded the Society of American Women Composers, advocating for female composers of her time. A fearless and independent activist, she was deeply committed to opening doors for women who aspired to become musicians.

P.S., this photo is from the Super Bowl night. A performance of mine was being aired on the radio at the same time, so I was juggling between listening to the live recording, eating chili, and watching the game.

• What’s your go-to wine pairing for chili?

• And what would you sip on while watching the Super Bowl?

• Drop a comment—I’d love to hear your picks!

Leave a comment

2022 Domaine Rietsch Tout Blanc

A few years ago, I tried Domaine Rietsch’s Tout Rouge at a French brasserie in the Lower East Side. The wine paired so beautifully (or, I should say, harmoniously) with the food we ordered that I started searching for more Domaine Rietsch wines in the city. I even emailed the importer, and they helped me where I might be able to find it.

I eventually found the 2022 Tout Rouge and Tout Blanc, and I shared the white with some friends over the summer. I was out of town for work, playing and teaching at a music festival in upstate New York. I brought the Tout Blanc with me, knowing that such a unique bottle would be hard to come by in the area.

Each year, the blend ratio slightly varies. The 2022 release is made of Auxerrois (50%), Riesling (25%), and Sylvaner (25%). Aside from the Riesling, the other varietals were unfamiliar to me. However, when it comes to enjoying wine, it’s still fun to sip without needing to know everything about the grapes.

After hanging out with my friends, I did some research on the mystery varietals: Auxerrois and Sylvaner.

Auxerrois, often referred to as Pinot Auxerrois, is a common varietal in the Alsace region. Because they look similar, Auxerrois is often mistaken for Pinot Blanc, another popular varietal from the area. Both share some parentage with Pinot Noir. Auxerrois is a low-acid varietal that ripens early and is frequently blended with higher-acid varietals. With unpredictable climate changes, quick-ripening varietals like Auxerrois are becoming a more reliable choice for many winemakers.

Sylvaner originates from Central Europe and shares roots with Österreichisch Weiss and Traminer. The varietal traveled to Germany from the Austrian Empire and eventually made its way to Alsace. Alsatian Sylvaner, in particular, expresses itself uniquely, boasting richer melon and honey notes, balanced with gentle bitterness and freshness.

Back at where the festival had put me and my friends up, I uncorked this perfectly chilled wine by the fire pit. The notes included lemon, orange, orange peel, orange blossom, wet stone, white flowers, honey, acacia flowers, cilantro, white peach, a hint of apricot, and a subtle touch of petrol. The pleasant blend of floral and citrus notes was a perfect match for the end-of-summer evening. It was an easy-drinking wine, ideal for sipping while catching up with old friends.

August Klughardt (1847–1902) may be an unfamiliar name to many classical music lovers, even professionals. However, his Woodwind Quintet stands out as one of the standard works in the repertoire, frequently performed around the world. Personally, I think the Quintet embodies the characteristics of 19th-century music throughout the piece. While it may not be considered the most serious work, it is lovely to listen to and fun to play. I’ve always felt that the Quintet is like a box of fruit-flavored candies.

I first learned this piece in 2012 as part of the New York String Orchestra Seminar, a highly competitive orchestral program for musicians aged 16 to 23. Alumni, including Yo-Yo Ma and Gil Shaham, perform around the world, play in top orchestras, and teach at the best music schools in the country. I was fortunate to be one of the young musicians selected to participate in this program.

During the 10-day program, the orchestra rehearsed in the morning and afternoon in preparation for the Carnegie Hall concerts on December 24 and 28 (the same dates every year!). After dinner, attended by all the notable alumni musicians, small chamber groups met with renowned musicians for coaching each night. My Woodwind Quintet was assigned to learn the Klughardt Quintet. It was my very first time playing any piece for woodwind quintet. We all came in prepared and excited to put it together, and we were coached by some of the greatest musicians I have always admired. My experience with this piece became a journey of building new friendships, united by our shared passion for music.

Sipping the Tout Blanc (a union of fun, aromatic varieties) with friends (a union of fun and passionate musicians) reminded me of the enjoyable music-making experiences from the past, and I wanted to feature the Klughardt Quintet to cherish those good memories.

• Recording of the Wind Quintet, Op. 79 by August Klughardt

Then, one evening in February 2023, my wife and I attended a Burgundian wine class at Jersey Wine and Spirits. We tasted five or six fine expressions of both modern and traditional Chardonnay and Pinot Noir. After the class, I asked Jason to recommend a bottle similar to a Savigny-lès-Beaune I’d recently enjoyed. He suggested a 2020 Jérôme Galeyrand Fixin Champs de Vosger.

This was the wine that rekindled my passion for good wine and sparked a desire to learn more about it. It was like fireworks on my palate, with floral bouquets and berry notes filling my nose. From that moment on, I started seeking out Galeyrand’s wines every time I visited serious wine shops.

Since then, I’ve enjoyed many bottles of Galeyrand’s wine and have even collected a few. The one I anticipated most was the 2019 Fixin Champs de Vosger. Many consider 2019 to be a standout year for Galeyrand, with his wines from that vintage elevating his reputation as one of Burgundy’s celebrated young winemakers.

When it comes to wine, I’m especially mindful of vintages. For me, that means understanding which years were favorable and which were more challenging. I believe that skilled winemakers can bring out a unique expression even in less-than-ideal years, while in good years, they can reveal their very best. In that sense, I pay close attention to vintages. However, I don’t dismiss a wine simply because it’s from a “bad” year; rather, I’m interested in discovering the unique and distinctive voice of the wine and appreciating the vintage as part of its story.

My wife and I waited for a special occasion to uncork the 2019 Fixin Champs de Vosger, choosing our 5-year dating anniversary. (We have several anniversaries as an excuse to open a nice bottle of wine more often!) After hearing so much about the 2019 vintage, we were both excited and a bit nervous to finally experience it.

The reality exceeded our expectations. The wine was stunning from the moment we opened it, evolving continuously into something even more glorious, elegant, and vibrant, with each sip surpassing the last. Layers of blueberry, blackberry, black plum, strawberry purée, black grape, tomato leaf, cinnamon, nutmeg, pumpkin spice, violet blossom, potpourri, and pluot (a plum-apricot hybrid) came together in beautiful harmony. Its complex flavors and lingering finish felt like watching a display of masterfully crafted fireworks.

This wine holds a special place in our hearts, as it rekindled our love for fine wine. Your experience with it may differ from ours, but that’s what makes each wine journey so special. We look forward to collecting and tasting more of Galeyrand’s vintages, both recent and older, whenever we come across them.

The musical piece that I associate with this wine is Igor Stravinsky’s The Firebird. While the full ballet is most rewarding in a live concert setting, the suite is equally beautiful and exciting. Personally, The Firebird isn’t my favorite Stravinsky composition, but that doesn’t diminish its greatness. The piece has so many captivating moments that resonate with listeners, leaving a lasting impression after the performance.

I first heard this piece performed live when I was eleven or twelve. At the time, I found it filled with sparkling sounds and intense drama, making me feel as if I wanted to jump up and down during the performance.

Stravinsky created three suites from the ballet in 1911, 1919, and 1945. The 1919 suite is the most widely performed version, with each suite undergoing editorial and structural changes. Whenever a non-1919 suite is performed, musicians are sure to note that it’s a version other than the 1919 suite being programmed.

The plot of The Firebird is inspired by a Russian folktale. Prince Ivan ventures into the kingdom of Koschei the Deathless. While exploring an enchanted garden, Ivan spots the Firebird attempting to steal a golden apple. Ivan catches the Firebird, who begs for her life. Moved by her plea, Ivan spares her, and in gratitude, the Firebird gives him a feather that will allow him to call on her anytime.

Soon after the Firebird leaves, Koschei and his soldiers arrive, attempting to capture Ivan and turn him into a stone. In his moment of peril, Ivan uses the Firebird’s feather to summon her, and she causes everyone to fall asleep. With her help, Ivan destroys the magical object that holds Koschei’s life. Upon Koschei’s death, the kingdom and castle are freed from the enchantment, releasing thirteen princesses and knights. Prince Ivan marries one of the princesses, and the ballet ends.

The Ballets Russes was an immensely popular ballet company in Paris during the early 20th century. It often featured Russian music, or orchestrations by other famous composers, accompanied by talented Russian dancers. Stravinsky wrote several ballets for the company, and The Firebird helped establish him as one of the most renowned composers of his time.

Stravinsky is truly one of the most fascinating composers, in my opinion. His compositions reflect the social and historical turmoil of his time. Stravinsky’s compositional periods are often categorized as Russian Nationalism, Neoclassicism, and later, Serialism. Known for his ability to adapt his musical style, Stravinsky famously said, “Lesser artists borrow, great artists steal.” However, I believe he was more flexible in his approach, writing music that could be enjoyed and performed in a variety of settings. Having lived through the World Wars in both Europe and America, Stravinsky continually found inspiration from his roots and surroundings, adapting his compositional voice as he moved through life.

This philosophy closely aligns with that of a great winemaker—believing in their craft and striving to create the best expression from the conditions of each year. Just as The Firebird elevated Stravinsky’s status as a great composer, the 2019 vintage has certainly spread the word that Galeyrand is a talented winemaker to watch.

Recommended Video Recordings:

• The Firebird Suite (1919) - Susanna Mälki / Frankfurt Radio Symphony Orchestra

• The Firebird Suite (1919) - Peter Oundjian / Toronto Symphony Orchestra

When appreciating a master painting, the image stays with us for a long time. Similarly, when reading great literature, the words linger in our minds. The same is true for wine and music: the good ones leave a lasting impression and an afterglow. These two are the ones I have enjoyed very much, and they will stay with me for a long time. Today, I want to write about a bottle of wine that I savored and a musical composition that is lesser known yet powerful.

Walt Whitman once said, “The art of art, the glory of expression, and the sunshine of the light of letters, is simplicity.” I believe simplicity is the best word to describe both of them. Simplicity, not implying they are simple wine or simple music, but referring to the pure form of excellence that shines without any artificial embellishments or gimmicks.

Mortet’s Gevrey-Chambertin Mes Cinq Terroirs was a delight to uncork and enjoy. I opened this bottle in celebration of my wife’s birthday. Gevrey-Chambertin is one of her favorite winemaking regions in Burgundy. She loves the bold, fruit-driven, concentrated, and long-lasting expression of the Gevrey-Chambertin Pinot Noirs. She picked out the wine herself and eagerly anticipated the day we would open it. At first, I worried that I might have opened it while the wine was still young and maturing. However, as wine enthusiasts who appreciate wines at various stages, we thoroughly enjoyed experiencing how it unfolded its stories.

An iconic figure in Burgundy, Denis Mortet started his winemaking career at his father’s Domaine, Charles Mortet, which he took over in the mid-80s. During this time, he became friends with the Burgundian legend Henri Jayer, who greatly influenced Mortet’s winemaking. In 1991, Charles Mortet retired, and Denis Mortet inherited vineyards in Gevrey-Chambertin. That year, Denis Mortet was invited to a tasting of the 1991 Lalou Bize-Leroy with the master herself. With the mentorship of Jayer and Leroy, Denis Mortet launched his own Domaine. After the untimely death of Denis Mortet, his son Arnaud Mortet took over the Domaine in 2006. With the help of his mother and sister, Arnaud elevated the reputation of the Domaine by creating more elegant and refined wines. The wines from Domaine Denis Mortet are excellent examples of the ongoing and leading Jayer school of winemaking and philosophy.

As the name suggests, the wine is a blend of five different parcels in Gevrey-Chambertin. These five unique terroirs come together in one bottle, harmonizing their distinct personalities. The five “lieux-dits” in this wine are En Motrot, Au Vellé, Combe du Dessus, En Champs, and En Derée. These plots are located on the northern slope of Gevrey-Chambertin, called Côteau de Brochon. Berries from these parcels of old vines are concentrated, showcasing richness, silkiness, and fruitiness.

This wine was complex, harmonizing all the subtle notes beautifully. Mostly dominated by dark fruit notes, it also showed hints of bottle aging. It was very enjoyable to taste and drink, but I felt the wine could benefit from even more time in the cellar. The primary notes I savored included blueberry, blackberry, black cherry, strawberry, black plum, red plum, red cherry, raspberry, pomegranate, rhubarb, umami, vanilla, cinnamon, nutmeg, mint, celery, prune, raisin, and cooked cranberry. All the primary, secondary, and tertiary characteristics came together in a harmonious ensemble.

As for the pairing, I paired this wine with a New York strip steak, cooked medium well. Personally, I would cook it no more than medium, but knowing my wife’s preference, I cooked it medium well for her birthday dinner. The fruit notes of the wine cut through the richness of the meat, and the meaty flavors complemented the tertiary notes of the wine quite well.

Let’s now talk about Amy Beach (1867–1944). Besides being a pianist, Beach is considered the first successful female American composer of larger-scale art compositions. Her Symphony “Gaelic” was premiered by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, making it the first symphony written and published by an American woman. She is also known as the first American composer to succeed without the help of European training.

After her marriage in 1885, Beach, like many wives of the upper-middle class at the time, could not fully continue her career as a concert pianist. She began teaching herself composition with the help of her amateur singer husband, who was not fond of her having a tutor. During this time, she gained significant recognition, such as the Boston Symphony Orchestra premieres of her Gaelic Symphony and the Piano Concerto featuring Beach as a soloist, and the premiere of her Mass in E-flat major.

In 1910, after her husband’s passing, she moved to Europe in hopes of recovery. For a while, she did not work, but she eventually made her European debut in 1912. Her Gaelic Symphony and Piano Concerto were performed in multiple European cities, and she was acknowledged as the first American woman capable of composing music with a European quality of excellence.

She returned to the US after the outbreak of World War I and dedicated her life to mentoring young composers, composing music, publishing articles on programming and piano techniques, collaborating with fellow female composers, and establishing musical education for children and women.

Romance, Op. 23, is written for violin and piano. It is a very short piece, lasting about six minutes. However, the aftertaste of the piece is everlasting. This is one of those pieces that you will think about as you leave the concert hall. The opening melody possesses a singable quality that is very easy to remember. As the melody progresses and develops throughout the piece, it creates a sense of yearning and nostalgia. To me, it is like looking at an old photo from years past; something that you forget about, something that is now too old, leaving behind only good memories. Recollection, that is the word and feeling that can sum up this piece.

In my opinion, compositions by Amy Beach are still greatly underplayed, even to this day; her music is incredibly beautiful, powerful, and moving. The contributions of women composers have historically been less appreciated and recognized, and many compositions by women composers are only now being discovered and performed. I have been fortunate to hear a lot of Amy Beach’s music in recent years. Her music, as I stated, is powerful. Living in a society where the same music is performed repeatedly by multiple artists, we all yearn for something refreshing yet substantial. Every time I encounter unfamiliar works by Amy Beach at concerts, I am thrilled to discover another piece of beautiful music that I had never heard before.

My feelings about music are extremely personal, just as my feelings about wine are. I opened this bottle to celebrate my wife’s birthday, and thanks to it, I now have one more cherished memory of that special day. Moreover, I am celebrating the time this wine has spent in the bottle. Listening to Amy Beach’s Romance made me contemplate the idea of somewhat forgotten music, waiting to be played all these years.

Both ‘Mes Cinq Terroirs’ and Amy Beach’s Romance are complex pieces that evoke our sensory and emotional experiences. Beach composed melodies, rhythms, harmonies, and musical structures, all of which converge to create impeccable harmonies and result in a powerful masterpiece. Domaine Denis Mortet combined the five terroirs into a bottle of wine, creating a beautiful harmony that expresses five different personalities. Both powerful yet elegant like an iron fist in a velvet glove.

Romance Op. 23 by Amy Beach; performed by Noah Bendix-Balgley on violin and Ohad Ben-Ari on piano

Throughout my wine journey, I’ve tried many Italian wines, mainly from the Piedmont and Tuscan regions. However, Italy offers far more than just these two winemaking areas. In fact, Italy is one of the most fascinating countries for winemaking, thanks to the myriad of indigenous varietals grown in each province. Sicily is another region producing wines with unique characteristics. Whenever in doubt, attending a class is always the best way to learn about a region and to taste many delicious wines.

Sicily boasts a rich winemaking history that dates back to 4000 BC. The region benefits from a warm and dry climate, moderate rainfall, ample sunlight, and coastal breezes. This combination also reduces the chances of rot and mildew affecting the fruits and vines. Thanks to these excellent farming conditions, Sicily also supports the cultivation of olives, citrus fruits, and grains.

Traditionally, Sicily was known for mass-producing wines that were mostly consumed throughout inland Europe, including the sweet Marsala wines often used in cooking. However, this trend is now changing thanks to the efforts of a new generation of winemakers.

Jason, from Jersey Wine and Spirits, masterfully selected five wines from four talented winemakers for the class. Each wine displayed distinctive characteristics that reflected the winemakers’ philosophy.

2022 Aldo Viola Brutto Vino Fizzante Bianco

This pét nat undergoes fermentation directly in the bottle, producing a delightfully bubbly wine. The visionary winemaker, Aldo Viola, isn’t afraid to defy norms. Made from the Catarratto varietal, grown in northwest Sicily on iron-rich limestone soil, the wine is opaque with pleasantly crisp fizziness. I detected a rich array of stone fruits such as white peach, nectarine, and yellow peach, complemented by notes of orange peel and yeast. Interestingly, the combination of orange and peach notes brought back memories of the cold medicine from my childhood.

2022 Manfredi Franco Terre Siciliane Bianco

This blend of Grillo, Catarratto, and Zibibbo undergoes a meticulous process: destemmed, maceration with the skins for three days in an open vat, followed by fermentation in a 500-liter chestnut barrel for 15 days, and finally aging in stainless steel for nine months.

The wine presents an oily texture and a well-defined structure. A subtle whiff of barnyard aroma, which I often associate with volcanic soil, adds interesting layers. Upon tasting, the wine reveals its complexity with an array of intriguing notes including yellow peach, apricot, nectarine, white flowers, honey, burnt orange, pomegranate, bitter orange, and tropical fruits.

2022 Gustinella Jungimmune Bianco

Originally from Sicily but raised in Milan, winemaker Sonia Gambino honed her winemaking skills at Château Léoville Las Cases in Bordeaux before returning to Sicily to produce her own wine. Her blend consists of Grecanico Dorato, Minnella, Albanella, and Moscatella. All the grapes spent three days on the skins, were fermented, and then aged for ten months in stainless steel.

The wine displayed a complex array of notes. I detected orange blossom, lemon syrup, honeysuckle, parsley, wet stone, white flowers, lemon juice, jasmine, chamomile, yellow peach, and yellow apple. The vines were cultivated alongside various flowers and plants, which likely contributed to the wine's complex character. This wine promises to age beautifully, yet it is still very pleasant to enjoy young.

* Jungimmune means “let’s join together” in Sicilian — well portrayed in the label.

2022 Gustinella Jungimmune Rosso

Another offering from Sonia Gambino, this red wine is pure yet packed with rich flavors. It is a blend of Grenache, Nerello Mascalese, and Tinto Nero, fermented in stainless steel for about nine to ten months. The wine reveals layers of cranberry, blood orange, strawberry, red plum, red cherry, and white pepper. Its light and delicate, yet well-balanced structure makes it an excellent pairing for a wide range of foods—from a charcuterie board to barbecued red meats and pizza, or even fatty fish like salmon and tuna.

2021 Eduardo Torres Acosta Terre Siciliane Rosso Versante Nord

The winemaker, originally from the Canary Islands—another well-known winemaking region with rich volcanic soil—has crafted this wine using Nerello Mascalese and other indigenous varietals from the north-facing slopes of Mt. Etna. The wine is fermented and aged in concrete vats. Although this is considered an entry-level offering, it has the potential to age beautifully. It is rich and tannic, presenting flavors of cooked plum, black plum, black cherry, cherry cola, clove, and cumin. Interestingly, despite the absence of oak aging, the presence of spice notes is quite pronounced, adding an intriguing layer to the wine's profile.

I would like to applaud Jason for presenting this wonderful lineup of wines and for organizing such an exceptional class.

This was a fantastic opportunity to learn more about Sicilian wines and the next generation of passionate winemakers. An area once known for producing mass-produced, inexpensive bulk wine is now in the hands of talented young makers who are transforming the reputation of Sicilian wine. The rich soil, great exposure to sunlight, and high altitude provide all the necessary factors for producing high-quality wine. With visionaries like these winemakers at the helm, there is no doubt that the future of Sicilian wine will be bright.

Who needs raindrops on roses and whiskers on kittens when you can have Aligoté and Schubert? 

Schubert is a guaranteed pick for my top composers, just as Aligoté, a Burgundian grape, is for one of my favorite varietals. Today, we delve into these two passions, seemingly unlikely companions that share a hidden charm.

Aligoté is not everyone’s darling, especially when standing next to Chardonnay’s brilliance in Burgundy. However, I find its charm quite undeniable. Often overshadowed, Aligoté offers a distinct personality waiting to be discovered. Crafted by respected winemakers, it sings with vibrancy, boasting an exciting flavor profile beyond just crisp acidity. This very quality makes it incredibly versatile, perfectly complementing the delicate flavors of raw seafood, the richness of fried chicken, or the earthy notes of roasted vegetables.

Last year, a Burgundy-pairing dinner opened my eyes to the magic of Aligoté. The first sip of François Mikulski’s bottling was a revelation––electric yet nonchalantly elegant, it showcased the grape’s true potential. Since then, I have become an avid seeker of Aligoté crafted by passionate producers. These wines transcend mere refreshment; they capture the essence of terroir and the artistry of the winemakers.

Perhaps it’s Aligoté’s very rarity that fuels my fascination. In Burgundy, Chardonnay reigns supreme, leaving Aligoté as a hidden gem. This might explain my next theory: with so much focus on Chardonnay, passionate winemakers might be more drawn to express themselves through Aligoté. It could be that, at a similar price point, you’re more likely to encounter a truly exceptional bottle of Aligoté than Chardonnay. On a sidenote, the roundtable of Burgundian winemakers that Galeyrand is part of is called ‘Les Aligoteurs.’ Besides Galeyrand, some of my other favorite Burgundian winemakers are part of this cultural council such as Domaine Chanterêves, Sylvain Pataille, François Mikulski, Pierre Morey, Vincent Dureuil-Janthial, Bruno Clair, etc.

One of my all-time favorite winemakers from Burgundy is Jérôme Galeyrand. In fact, his 2020 Fixin Champs de Vosgers reignited my forgotten passion for fine wine. Since then, I have always sought out Galeyrand’s wines. So without trying his white wines, I immediately felt that I would enjoy every drop of his Aligoté. This wine was complex yet easy-drinking, slightly different from most Aligoté wines I’ve tried. All the key characteristics were there: lemon, lemon zest, green apple, and white flower. I was pleasantly surprised by other notes that made this wine more exciting, such as wet stone, yellow peach, mango, banana, banana peel, parsnip, and rock salt (umami). I sensed quite a lot of tropical fruits, a very rare note in Burgundian Aligoté. So, I speculated that the grapes might be from the southern, warmer part of Burgundy. It turns out the grapes are from Culles-les-Roches in the Côte Chalonnaise, with a general soil composite of pink granite, possibly contributing to the umami, rock salt, and banana peel notes.

There was a great balance between elegance and crispness in this wine. While elegantly showcasing all the tropical fruit and vegetal notes, it also featured mouthwatering crisp citrus and green fruits. It truly was a great experience tasting Aligoté, with many layers of complexity and enjoyable traits.

Let's shift gears and talk about music. Similar to how Aligoté captivates passionate wine lovers, the music of Franz Schubert ignites a deep devotion in its listeners. During his lifetime, Schubert’s music thrived in intimate settings like private parties, where a dedicated circle of friends and admirers would gather. These gatherings even had a name: Schubertiades. Many of Schubert’s works were premiered at these events. While the audience may not have been vast, it pulsated with a shared belief in Schubert’s ingenuity. Just like how Aligoté’s unique charm draws devoted enthusiasts, so too did Schubert’s music. It united passionate communities to witness the birth and performance of his masterpieces.

Schubert’s music, particularly his song cycles and piano pieces, has always held a special place in my heart. There’s a captivating and magical quality to his works that draws listeners in and keeps them enthralled.

The Impromptu Op. 142/3 (D. 935) that I’ve chosen to pair with this wine is part of a set of four Impromptus written for solo piano in 1827, in the same year as another set (Op. 90, D. 899). Unlike the Op. 90, however, the Op. 142 (D. 935) wasn’t published until over a decade after Schubert’s untimely death.

While shorter piano pieces like Impromptus were in style at the time, Schubert faced challenges finding a publisher for this set. His publisher had already released two Impromptus from the D. 899 set, and was not interested in publishing more. Another publisher rejected them due to their perceived technical difficulty, deeming them unmarketable in France.

Despite these setbacks, the Impromptus eventually found its way into print posthumously. It’s a real shame that they were not fully recognized during Schubert’s lifetime, but it’s gratifying to know they’re now cherished and celebrated by many.

My love affair with Schubert’s Impromptus began in college. Attending recitals by friends, I was captivated by the first Impromptus I encountered. Eager to delve deeper, I bought CDs and spent countless hours in my dorm room, revisiting these gems. Despite their seemingly simple form and melody, they possessed an enduring quality that defied repetition. Especially on sleepless nights, these pieces offered me solace and companionship.

The Impromptu Op. 142/3 (D. 935) exemplifies a musical form called “theme and variations.” Imagine a melody introduced at the outset, followed by a series of playful reinterpretations. The core theme remains familiar, yet takes on a new life through embellishments, shifting harmonies, and changes in tempo, creating a landscape of moods.

This concept beautifully mirrors the evolution of wine in the bottle. The essence remains, yet subtle nuances emerge over time. Just as the theme persists in the Impromptu, the core character of the wine endures, while new flavor notes blossom as it ages.

The other day, while rummaging through my sheet music, I unearthed a forgotten treasure, an arrangement of the Impromptu Op. 142/3 (D. 935). A wave of joy washed over me as I rediscovered the music, spending the next few days reacquainting myself with its beauty. The elegance, joy, and sheer charm of the piece transported me back to my youth, reigniting a sense of excitement and inspiration. Similarly, a recent encounter with Galeyrand’s Aligoté elicited a kindred spirit, a surge of positive emotions that evoked cherished memories.

For those seeking to explore this Impromptu, I highly recommend Krystian Zimerman’s recording. His interpretation shimmers with playful charm, reminiscent of silver bells ringing. Conversely, Mitsuko Uchida’s recording offers a serene experience, akin to reading a favorite novel on a warm spring afternoon, a feeling I cherished during my college years.

More recently, I’ve discovered the magic of Sir Clifford Curzon’s recording. This came about after watching “Seymour: An Introduction,” a documentary by Ethan Hawke on American pianist Seymour Bernstein. In the film, Bernstein discusses his encounters with Curzon, and there’s a scene showing Curzon playing one of the Impromptus (A flat major) in the background. The passion and ecstasy Curzon poured into his playing deeply moved me.

Ultimately, I hope this exploration inspires you to discover your own connection with Schubert’s timeless masterpiece.

“These are a few of my favorite things. ( … ) I simply remember my favorite things and then I don’t feel so bad.”

* The Impromptu in A flat major starts at 2:10.

Appendix:

1. Curzon’s audio recording of both sets is truly excellent. It’s a shame that there is no video of him playing the entire set.

2. On a side note, I’ve heard that the 2021 and 2022 vintages from Burgundy are much more exciting, both in red and white wines. I cannot wait to try more of Galeyrand’s 2021 vintage, and I am eagerly anticipating the release of the 2022 vintage.

3. Just in case, my title wasn’t obvious … I was referring to the film, Sound of Music. I tried to be witty … I tried.

There is something about this wine that evokes Vivaldi’s music. While I would not actively seek out Vivaldi, I’m always pleasantly surprised by encountering an unheard Sinfonia or Concerto. The “Four Seasons” are a bit overplayed for me, but there is a certain easy listening quality to Vivaldi that I appreciate. There is a long-standing joke among classical musicians that Vivaldi wrote the same concerto five-hundred times for different instruments! Despite the repetition, his music has endured centuries of upheaval and remains beloved.

Similarly, I have had countless Chardonnays, both good and bad. It is a popular grape varietal, but I do not actively seek them out because truly great ones can be hard to find. However, I often buy Chardonnay based on recommendations. Many passionate wine drinkers, frustrated by mediocre Chardonnays, eagerly share their discoveries with fellow enthusiasts. Just like with music, I am not actively searching for Vivaldi, but when recommended or stumbled upon unexpectedly, I find myself digging in.

While I enjoy discovering hidden gems in Vivaldi’s repertoire, I also love exploring wines from all over the world. My adventure led me to Discovery Wines, a haven for organic, biodynamic, natural, and low-intervention wines, highly recommended by my wife. Stepping inside felt like entering a wine heaven.

Natural wines are a controversial topic among wine drinkers. There is no clear definition, and even enthusiasts disagree on terminology like “natural” and “low-intervention.” While organic and biodynamic farming and vinification have government certifications, some high-quality producers do not bother with bureaucracy. Whatever the label may be, I was thrilled to be at Discovery Wines.

Browsing the store, I reached the Jura section. Having previously enjoyed Jura reds, I was intrigued by the white Chardonnays from Domaine de Saint Pierre. Feeling indecisive, I sought help from a staff member. He explained his impressions of each bottle based on his tastings. According to him, the 2018 Les Brûlées stood out due to its bottle aging, resulting in layers of complexity and savoriness. I trust the recommendations of store professionals, so I grabbed a bottle and headed home.

I paired Les Brûlées with Tteokguk (떡국), a Korean rice cake soup with marinated meat and egg toppings, traditionally eaten on New Year’s Day. The soup's savory notes, particularly the umami-rich oxtail broth, seemed like a perfect match for the wine's complexity. While this may be an unexpected pairing, Korean food is gaining popularity in the U.S., with Western-inspired Korean fine dining featuring wine pairings. However, Korean food is not traditionally paired with wine, which is something I love to experiment with at home. Back in Korea, I remember my uncles enjoying Tteokguk with Cheongju, a clear, filtered grain wine. Inspired by its simplicity, I opted for Les Brûlées.

The wine offered a symphony of flavors: lemon, parsley, orange peel, lime, wet stone, kombu, sea salt, shortbread, unripe tangerine, white peach, and hints of cake icing. Clean yet complex, it was a truly enjoyable bottle that could satisfy both novice and experienced palates.

The Unexpected Harmony of Wine and Music

Returning to the music analogy, Vivaldi was a master of using melodic and harmonic sequences. These sequences repeat a melodic or harmonic figure in a different key, creating tension and propelling the music forward. Sequences are also commonly used in pop music to make songs catchy and sing-along-able. Just as the easy-drinking nature of Les Brûlées appealed to both inexperienced and experienced wine drinkers, Vivaldi’s music achieves a similar magic. The harmonies progress predictably, yet the creativity of the melody keeps listeners engaged.

The Concerto in A major, RV 340, is a new discovery for me. This short and compact piece features less repetition than most of Vivaldi’s work. It strikes a beautiful balance between soloist and orchestra, with a stunning slow movement and a virtuosic finale. It’s a delightful listen, especially for modern audiences.

A World Beyond the Familiar

Whether you are tired of the same old Chardonnay or the overplayed “Four Seasons,” I highly recommend exploring this wine and concerto. They offer a fresh perspective and ignite the imagination. As I wrote this post, I listened to many Vivaldi recordings, both at home and on the road. It was a truly enriching experience that opened my ears to a world beyond the “Four Seasons.”

Antonio Vivaldi, Violin Concerto in A major, RV 340

• These are from an album, Vivaldi Concerti per Violino X ‘Intorno a Pisendel,’ performed by Julien Chauvin and Le Concert de la Loge.

1. Allegro

2. Adagio

3. Allegro

Appendix:

1. This wine is ideal for:

   • Chardonnay Adventurers: If you’re looking to explore Chardonnay beyond the typical styles, this bottle offers a unique and exciting experience.

   • Jura Wine Explorers: New to the wines of Jura? This Domaine de Saint Pierre is a fantastic introduction to the region's white wines.

   • Culinary Matchmakers: Looking to expand your food and wine pairing horizons? This wine’s complexity makes it a versatile partner for a wide variety of dishes

2. Other great works by Antonio Vivaldi:

   • Concerto for Violin, Strings, and Harpsichord in E minor, RV 278

   • Sinfonia in C from Dorilla in Tempe, RV 709

   • Violin Concerto in D major, RV 217

After acquiring the 1990 Haut-Marbuzet from a private collection through Crush Wine and Spirits, my wife and I patiently awaited the ideal moment to uncork this 33-year-old gem. Thanksgiving presented itself as the perfect occasion to savor this wine, enhancing the great American holiday. With my sister-in-law and a close friend joining us for the celebration, it truly became the moment we had anticipated.

Having read about the maker in Jane Anson’s Inside Bordeaux, I was intrigued to learn more about this producer. Anson, noting her experience with multiple vintages, asserted that even after 30 to 40 years, the wine continued to exhibit outstanding performance. This prompted me to wonder how it would compare to the 1989 Château Sociando, tasted the previous summer. The Sociando, well into its mature stage, displayed fewer primary characteristics and more tertiary notes, setting my expectations for the aged Bordeaux. (Discovering the Enticing Allure of Yesteryears)

The storage conditions were outstanding, with the wine ullage still at its top shoulder. As the anticipation built, I carefully used my Bilame to extract the cork, finding it in impeccable condition. With my heart pounding, I decanted the wine to separate the sediments. Unlike my previous experience with older wines, only a minimal amount of sediment collected in the bottle. After letting the wine settle in the decanter, the tasting began.

Surprisingly, the wine had retained its youthful nature, revealing notes of red currant, red plum, strawberry, prune, cranberry, and a hint of green bell pepper. Some tannins lingered, providing a grippy feel. In addition to primary notes, secondary and tertiary elements like clove, cinnamon, vanilla, forest floor, dry leaf, and raisin emerged. Despite encompassing all three flavor categories, the wine leaned more towards its youth than maturity, affirming the legendary status of the 1990 vintage.

Paired with our Thanksgiving feast of roasted chicken, fluffy mashed potatoes, cranberry chutney, and roasted vegetables, the wine complemented the meal splendidly. Unfortunately, no photos were taken as we were too immersed in the preparation and consumption.

We only consumed half of the bottle that day, and I transferred the remaining decanted wine back into the bottle for a second-day tasting. Surprisingly, the primary characters had diminished, giving prominence to secondary and tertiary notes such as dried prunes, raisin, tree bark, and mushroom. Reflecting on this, I regretted not allowing the wine to breathe longer on its uncorking day, realizing that the peak might have occurred between the first and second days.

Every life moment is a learning experience, and this tasting reinforced the lesson: patience is a virtue. Next time I uncork an aged bottle, I anticipate an even greater experience.

Before delving into wine and music pairing, I’d like to share my recent experience with Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 2. While I had played and heard the piece many times before, my most recent performance of the piece was different—it was with one of my favorite living pianists, Yefim Bronfman. Having seen him live for the first time twelve years ago, I eagerly anticipated playing alongside him. To fully immerse myself in the piece, I did a thorough score study, marked important entrances, and, unexpectedly, developed a deep emotional connection to the piece.

Brahms completed this masterpiece within a span of three years. The significant gap between the completion of his first and second concertos encompasses a period of twenty-two years. Renowned for his meticulous approach and perfectionism, it’s noteworthy that Brahms dedicated twenty-one years to crafting his very first symphony, which he completed in 1876. (Surprisingly, Brahms commenced his second symphony in 1877 and finished it within the same year.) He began composing his second concerto in 1878 and concluded the work in 1881. Remarkably, Brahms not only completed the concerto in that year but also world-premiered it, assuming the role of soloist.

Comparing wine to music is a nuanced process that demands the exploration of similarities and the imaginative visualization of how the wine might resonate in musical terms. This endeavor necessitates not only intense concentration but also a focused attention to sensory sensations, delving into the realms of memorized senses to extract a harmonious connection between the two art forms. However, the connection between the 1990 Haut-Marbuzet and Brahms’ second piano concerto came effortlessly. Generally, I find joy in pairing mature Bordeaux wines with Brahms’ music due to its autumnal solitude, warmth, welcoming nature, and depth. The wine’s structure mirrors the majestic first movement, the interplay among characters resonates with the dramatic second movement, the overall mature wine aligns with the gorgeous third movement, and the youthful nature of the last movement corresponds to the wine’s playful and humorous qualities.

Furthermore, the seamless pairing of Brahms with mature Bordeaux wines can be attributed, in my perspective, to Brahms’ commitment to classicism. During an era when composers were leaning towards programmatic music, crafting symphonic works with titles and detailed descriptions, or delving into operatic compositions, Brahms adhered to a more traditional approach, drawing inspiration from musical styles and forms of preceding decades and centuries. He dedicated himself to writing absolute music and vocal pieces set to poetry. While his stance garnered disapproval from composers with progressive views, it also earned him admiration from those who cherished traditional values. Brahms’ unwavering persistence in maintaining his compositional voice ultimately led to widespread acclaim among musicians and music enthusiasts alike.

This parallel resonates with the world of Bordeaux wines, where adherence to the styles and traditions of the Châteaux reflects a classicistic and traditionalistic approach akin to Brahms’ method of composing music. The shared commitment to timeless principles in both realms contributes to the harmonious pairing of Brahms’ compositions with the refined and enduring characteristics of mature Bordeaux wines.

Numerous recordings of Brahms’ Piano Concerto No. 2 exist, and any featuring a respected soloist, thoughtful conductor, and skilled orchestra promise a great performance. Interpretation, a personal and subjective aspect, is key. While studying the piece, I enjoyed a few recordings that I’m happy to share with you.

• Video: Maurizio Pollini | Claudio Abbado | Vienna Philharmonic

• Audio: Krystian Zimerman | Leonard Bernstein | Vienna Philharmonic

• Audio: Leon Fleisher | George Szell | Cleveland Orchestra

Appendix:

1. Jane Anson’s Inside Bordeaux is truly an incredible resource for learning everything about Bordeaux wine and its châteaux. It covers almost all aspects of Bordeaux, and Anson enhances the experience by incorporating her personal anecdotes for each château.

Introduction:

There are times when I crave a change in routine, yet I am not entirely ready to venture far from my comfort zone. This sentiment extends to my selection of wines as well. Drinking Burgundy wines is undeniably my favorite indulgence; it’s my comfort zone. Whether red or white, I am content as long as it hails from Burgundy, or at the very least, it is a Pinot Noir and/or Chardonnay.

On one of those days when I yearned for something different but hesitated to be too audacious, I perused my wine shelf. Voila! I settled on this Marsannay Rosé. I genuinely wanted to uncork something unique to welcome my sister-in-law, visiting us from London. However, unsure of her wine preferences and not wanting something overly adventurous personally, this seemed like a decent choice.

I first encountered this wine at Somm Cellars’ rosé tasting event over the summer, where it stood out among forty-something other bottles. This was also when I was introduced to Burgundy’s Chanterêves. Since then, I have become a big fan of Chanterêves, as you might recall from my previous blog post about Chanterêves’ Pét Nat (“Pét Nat, Why Not?”). Just as the Pét Nat showcased energy, fun, depth, and complexity, this Marsannay Rosé brings forth quirks, personalities, excitement, and joy.

✏️ About the Wine

While conventional rosé is often a transparent, bright pink liquid, this cloudy salmon-pink wine makes a bold statement. Resting sideways on the shelf, the unfiltered murky wine collected sediment in the bottle, so I left it upright the night before opening.

As I took the bottle out of the refrigerator and inspected the accumulated sediment on the bottom, I felt a surge of excitement. The moment of opening a bottle is always thrilling, whether it’s a screw cap or cork. I anticipate that moment even more than the first nosing. Upon uncorking, a refreshing aroma emanated from the wine, making my heart pound with excitement.

I detected notes of strawberry, melon, watermelon rind, parsley, rose, yeast, cherry, cotton candy, and a slight hint of manure, which dissipated fifteen minutes later. The mouthfeel was quite intriguing. Due to the wine being unfiltered, I felt more body and weight than typical rosé, yet the slight fizz brightened the character quite well.

This is not your typical rosé. Some, like myself, may love it, while others may not. I understand. While some associate rosé with fresh crispness, viewing it as an easy summer afternoon drink, I personally see rosé as an all-season wine that can be paired with an even wider range of foods than whites and reds.

🎵 Jean Françaix, Divertimento

Much like music preferences, where some love heavy post-Romanticism, light Viennese School, or calming Medieval music, I find this quirky wine pairs exceptionally well with lighthearted French music from the 20th century. If one could taste the sound, I imagine this wine resembling the music of Francis Poulenc, Erik Satie, Florent Schmitt, and Vincent d’Indy. However, the perfect piece that came to my mind as I savored my way through the wine was Divertimento by Jean Françaix.

I had forgotten about this piece for many years, more than ten for sure. Composed for the flute and piano, it’s a short piece, lasting less than ten minutes, yet it comprises five movements, each showcasing a different style—some funny, romantic, pretty, serious, etc. The ever-changing personalities every two minutes or so make this piece more enjoyable, adding dramatic elements for the listeners.

When I started this blog, my goal was to share my impressions and the feelings evoked from enjoying wine. This small joy led me to rediscover my favorite piece from the youth, thanks to Chanterêves’ Marsannay Rosé. As I write this and listen to the music, I feel my passion for playing the flute reigniting, and I think it’s finally time for me to learn this piece!

Tagged Audio: Jean-Pierre Rampal, flute; Robert Veyron-Lacroix, piano

Audio: Vincent Lucas, flute; Laurent Wagschal, piano

1. Toccatina

2. Notturno

3. Perpetuum Mobile

4. Romanza

5. Finale

With all the work piling up, I found myself lacking the mental capacity to pen down my wine-drinking journey. However, that doesn’t mean I didn’t unwind with a glass in hand. In fact, I uncorked numerous bottles—some disappointments, many delights, yet none exceptional enough to inspire me to write. That is until I encountered the 2018 Au Bon Climat ‘Knox Alexander,’ which stood out prominently among the wines I tasted.

A while ago, my wife delved into Californian Pinot Noir inspired by Burgundian reds, leading her to the discovery of Au Bon Climat and its legendary vintner, Jim Clendenen. Young Jim, smitten by Burgundian wines, found a comparable vine-growing haven in Santa Barbara County—cooled by Pacific breezes, enriched by marine-based soils, and nestled in valleys to maximize sunlight.

Intrigued by the wine and Jim’s dedication to quality, I acquired Knox Alexander during one of my Albany trips in May from Empire Wine. It took me a while to muster the courage to open this bottle. Recent disappointments with non-French wines, specifically those outside Burgundy, made me hesitant. But, with Knox Alexander sitting atop my CellarTracker inventory, the buzz surrounding it was hard to ignore.

Striving for objectivity, I read others’ reviews. However, as I delved into more about Knox Alexander, I found it increasingly difficult not to form expectations. Eventually, curiosity won, and I decided to uncork it. The wine exceeded the hype, revealing complexity on both the nose and palate. As it aged in the bottle, its color transformed to garnet on the rim, presenting a symphony of strawberry, raspberry, cranberry, pomegranate, vanilla, nutmeg, clove, and milk chocolate. It was a testament to the endeavor to infuse Californian soil with a French soul.

Despite feeling the wine hadn’t fully unveiled itself on the first day, I restrained myself from sipping it all night—no easy feat for a person in their 30s. On the second day, the wine blossomed, showcasing more of its secondary and tertiary characters, with prominent clove, vanilla, and newfound leather notes.

My enjoyment extended to the fourth day, where candy notes, akin to red Jolly Rancher, emerged. With prolonged exposure to air, the wine shifted from berry to red plum notes. The gradual evolution of Knox Alexander fascinated me, akin to savoring a lengthy piece of music. Normally, I finish a bottle in two days, but the wine’s slow transformation felt akin to the completion one experiences listening to an entire ballet or opera.

🎵 Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky, The Sleeping Beauty

Within a month, friends and colleagues mentioned Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty, the complete ballet. Though I had heard parts of it, I hadn’t experienced the full piece. Comparing it to my wine journey, I found parallels in its charming moments, luscious melodies, beautiful harmonies, grand structures, and, most importantly, its dramatic flair.

Describing Au Bon Climat ‘Knox Alexander’ as an underrated hype, I draw a similar comparison to Tchaikovsky’s ballet music, especially the Sleeping Beauty. Like Knox Alexander, Tchaikovsky’s ballets, overshadowed by his symphonies and concertos, deserve more recognition. While Swan Lake and Nutcracker are enchanting, Sleeping Beauty, filled with more charms and subtle complexity, captured my attention.

I immersed myself in the complete Sleeping Beauty multiple times over the past weeks, especially during long-distance drives, making my commute to school to teach and concerts to perform more enjoyable. Once again, I realized that hype builds over time because it’s good. Not every hype deserves its status, but Au Bon Climat ‘Knox Alexander’ and Tchaikovsky’s Sleeping Beauty undoubtedly merit more recognition.

Recordings:

• Valery Gergiev | Kirov Orchestra | Complete Ballet Audio

• Robert Reimer | Deutsch Oper Berlin | Complete Ballet Video

Every wine-making region has its signature varietal to represent itself – Pinot Noir for Bourgogne, Trebbiano for Abruzzo, Albariño for Galicia, Riesling for Mosel, Furmint for Tokaj, and so on. Popular varietals like Cabernet Sauvignon, Merlot, Cabernet Franc, and Chardonnay are cultivated worldwide, not limited to France. However, the globalization of grape varieties has led to diversification, owing to differing climates, preferred tastes, and winemaking techniques. For instance, Californian Pinot Noir tends to be riper and jammier than its Burgundian counterparts. But, as I have always believed, good wine is good wine, regardless of personal preferences.

We now live in a society where people seek uniqueness, look for something special, and crave the new. While winemakers continue to perfect their craft, they also explore innovative avenues. Many sought-after Californian winemakers are embracing the challenge of experimenting with new varietals that thrive in California’s climates and soils. This change is possible, likely due to more flexible regulations and rules compared to those in Europe.

I must admit that I have not ventured into Californian wines as extensively as French ones. I have tried them occasionally, but my experiences have been less frequent. I have always been on the lookout for opportunities to explore the craftsmanship of talented and passionate California winemakers. Recently, I received an email from Jersey Wine and Spirits about a class on the future of Californian wines, featuring lesser-known varietals suited to the region’s unique conditions. As someone who admires Jason’s expertise and exquisite selections for classes, I saw this as a great chance to learn more about Californian wines and decided to attend.

As always, Jason featured five different wines, including sparkling, white, and red. All the wines featured that evening had truly beautiful and captivating labels, even though I usually don’t judge my wine purchases solely by the label. The moment I saw them, I knew that each wine would share its own unique story. I was eager to embark on new wine journeys.

NV Cruse Wine Co. Cruse Tradition

The excitement was palpable, especially for someone like me who has a deep appreciation for Champagne. It was a delightful surprise to encounter a Californian gem crafted using the méthode traditionnelle. The particular sparkling wine, hailing from Cruse Co., boasts a 2019 base, composed of 73% Chardonnay and 27% Pinot Noir, sourced from four distinct vineyards.

As I gazed upon the beautiful pale gold liquid, it revealed a symphony of notes, including lemon, yeast, pear, celery, dill, green apple, cantaloupe, and a hint of quince. When it graced my palate, I was greeted with a medley of flavors: ripe green apple, lemon, tangerine orange, kumquat, pear, quince, dill, yellow peach, brioche, and biscuit. The finish, extending to a medium-plus length, left me with a refreshing aftertaste that lingered on my palate. It was akin to sipping Champagne, but with a twist: the fruits were noticeably riper, lending depth and a fuller mouthfeel. This sensation brought to mind the experience of enjoying slightly aged Champagnes.

As a side note, while this wine might be considered more of an entry-level sparkling wine, it is undeniably a thoughtfully crafted one. What's even more impressive is its affordable price point, making it an excellent choice as a gift for a party or a perfect selection to serve before dinner. Michael Cruse, well-known for his cult sparkling wine, Ultramarine, which features vintages from single vineyards, has now piqued my curiosity. After the delightful experience with the Tradition, I am excited to seek out Ultramarine during my next wine adventure.

2021 Outward Shell Creek Vineyard Chenin Blanc

This wine is a remarkable creation by a husband-and-wife winemaking team based in Paso Robles. While they don’t own the vineyards themselves, they have a keen eye for sourcing grapes from vines that were planted back in 1971. Their dedication is evident in the fact that they produced only 72 cases of this unique wine.

Chenin Blanc, a varietal widely cultivated in the Loire Valley of France and South Africa, demonstrates its adaptability by thriving in various climates, warm, moderate, and cool. What’s fascinating about Chenin Blanc is its ability to maintain high acidity even in warmer climates.

The wine, with its pale gold hue, beckoned with enticing aromas of peach, wet stone, melon, vanilla, butter, and a hint of orange. As I took a sip, the mouthfeel was luxuriously buttery and oily, coating my palate with its richness. The flavors I discerned mirrored the enticing aroma. This wine underwent fermentation in neutral oak and was bottled unfined and unfiltered, preserving its authentic character.

2021 A Tribute to Grace Grenache Blanc ‘Thompson Vineyard’

During the tasting, two wines truly distinguished themselves, and one of these standouts was this delightful creation. The talented winemaker behind this gem, Angela Osborne, originally from New Zealand, offers an explanation for the label on her website:

“I chose to name my label after two of my favourite things: my Grandmother Grace, and my most beloved attribute. My winemaking intention is to capture this spirit, and stay as close to nature as humanly possible. The trio is completed by the grape itself, which to me encapsulates grace.”

This wine was truly exceptional, displaying a remarkable balance and a plethora of endearing qualities. Its pale lemon color was adorned with a symphony of fragrances, including herbs, lime, lime rind, lemon, green pear, wet stone, mineral, capsicum, and delicate white flower blossom.

Upon sipping, I found that all the aromatic notes translated seamlessly onto the palate, and I also discovered hints of grapefruit, fennel, cilantro, and a subtle whisper of oak, owing to its fermentation in concrete and neutral barrique. Personally, I have a penchant for wines that feature a harmonious interplay of acidity, mineral character, and herbaceous notes that beautifully complement the fruit flavors. This wine encompassed all these elements with finesse.

While this specific quality may not suit everyone’s taste, I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was a wine crafted with grace and finesse, making it a standout in my book.

2022 Flora & Fauna “Idlewild” Red Wine

The mention of Nebbiolo, Barbera, and Dolcetto immediately transports me to Northern Italy. However, this 2022 vintage draws inspiration from the Piemonte region and presents a unique blend of Barbera, Dolcetto, Freisa, Nebbiolo, and Grignolino. It’s not every day you come across a bottle of wine featuring Piemonte varietals crafted in California.

This medium-ruby-colored wine captivated the senses with dark fruits like black cherry and black plum, along with the presence of red fruits like red cherry and red plum. What truly piqued my interest was the wine’s intriguing mouthfeel, which featured a slight fizz and a pronounced astringency. Given the high acidity and tannins, it’s possible that this wine may age gracefully in the bottle for a few years.

On the palate, I discovered a vibrant array of flavors, including blueberry, prune, blackberry, raspberry jam, and a touch of tomato leaf. This wine’s unique character stems from its vinification in clusters and its journey through carbonic maceration in stainless steel tanks.

I could easily envision this wine pairing exquisitely with dishes featuring tomato sauce as well as barbecued and grilled meats, creating a delightful culinary synergy.

2019 Lillian Syrah

Among the standouts of the evening, this particular wine also left a lasting impression. In a nutshell, I could not resist bringing this bottle home, as I had a strong hunch that my wife would thoroughly enjoy it as well. It’s one of those wines that promises to age gracefully in the bottle, evolving and developing even more complex flavors over the years. The only challenge I foresee is my own impatience, as I’m eager to experience its future evolution.

Putting my excitement aside, the pronounced aromas of both fresh and jammy blackberry, black plum, blueberry, vanilla, and sweet spices like nutmeg and cinnamon, with a subtle hint of tobacco, embraced my senses. Upon savoring it, I was treated to a harmonious medley of flavors that not only echoed the notes I detected on the nose but also introduced elements of black currant and a delightful hint of cigar box.

This wine is a project of Maggie Harrison, a true maestro in the world of winemaking. Her journey led her to create the ‘Lillian’ project, an endeavor born out of her love for winemaking, following her work with the renowned Californian winemaker, Sine Qua Non. This wine is nothing short of special and carries with it the mark of a true innovator.

This class was an expertly curated journey that significantly broadened my understanding of Californian wine and the passionate winemakers who are blazing new trails in the industry. Prior to this experience, my knowledge of Californian wines and the dedicated makers shaping their own paths was quite limited. This class has left me with a strong desire to visit California, explore its wineries, and meet these talented winemakers in person, to delve deeper into their processes and learn more about their wines.

Appendix:

What’s next, Californian Cult Wines.

Cult followers of wines are drawn to them for various reasons, including their limited production, exceptional craftsmanship, outstanding quality, and the potential for their value to appreciate over time. Having gained insights into the world of passionate Californian winemakers and their winemaking ideals, I am now eager to seek out the crème de la crème among them. These wines are often both expensive and elusive, making it crucial to seize the opportunity when they come one’s way, if the budget allows. It is a pursuit driven by the desire to experience the pinnacle of winemaking excellence and to savor wines that hold a special place in the hearts of aficionados.

• Ultramarine Blanc de Blancs Heintz Vineyard Sonoma Coast

• Ultramarine Blanc de Blancs Keefer Ranch Sonoma Coast

• Ultramarine Blanc de Blancs Michael Mara Sonoma Coast

• Sine Qua Non Distenta Grenache

• Sine Qua Non Cumulus Vineyard ‘Next of Kyn’

• Dominus Estate Christian Moueix

• Screaming Eagle Cabernet Sauvignon

Good wine is, well, good wine, regardless of its varietals or types. However, when it comes to preferences, it’s a different story. I have a penchant for rosé, even though many people consider it a seasonal drink. Champagne, too, is often reserved for celebrations. These stereotypes can be frustrating, but as someone who genuinely enjoys both, I am always inclined to open a bottle for any occasion––whether it is as simple as “I want bubbles” or “I'm having pizza for dinner.”

One day, the idea struck me: “Why not seek out rosé Champagne?” While I knew it existed, I had never considered trying it before. I didn’t want to settle for something mass-produced; I was on the lookout for something different and special. During one of our leisurely strolls in the neighborhood, we stumbled upon a wine shop we don’t typically frequent.

I have always enjoyed lookng into the backstory of the wine I am about to savor. The back label provided some intriguing details about this particular rosé Champagne. Since most winemakers don’t produce rosé Champagne in large quantities each year or at all, it was fascinating to learn about the number of bottles produced. I also encountered a new term: Rosé de Saignée, which translates to “bleeding” and refers to the color drawn from the grape skins. Achieving the perfect hue requires the winemaker’s expertise, and extended skin contact adds depth and flavor.

My overall experience with this wine was exceedingly pleasant. To begin with, the color and effervescence in my glass were captivating. As someone who appreciates fine bubbles and rosé, I found that this Champagne delivered more than its appearance suggested. With some bottle aging, it revealed a delightful complexity with each whiff and sip. The wine had a medium pink hue, likely a result of its time in the bottle or the extended skin contact. The aromas and flavors were remarkably harmonious. I detected primary notes of raspberry, cranberry, and strawberry, with hints of herbaceous undertones like dill and celery. Secondary notes of biscuit added an intriguing layer to the experience. The interplay between biscuit and strawberry reminded me of both strawberry shortcake and strawberry scone. This wine is truly a gem for those who appreciate the best of both rosé and Champagne worlds, blending their finest attributes.

I paired this rosé Champagne with two different types of cheese: Comté from Jura and St. Nectaire from Auvergne. Ideally, I would have chosen cheese from the Champagne or surrounding regions, but neither of these options came from anywhere near Champagne. Unfortunately, not all Whole Foods stores are equipped with a wide range of French cheese. I had previously tasted Comté, so I knew what to expect—hazelnut, cream, and butter notes emerge, depending on the maturation length. I believed that the biscuit and brioche characteristics of Champagne would generally complement the cheese. On the other hand, I couldn’t recall the last time I had tried St. Nectaire. It turned out to be creamier than Comté, with flavors of nuts, mushrooms, earth, and forest floor. The richness of St. Nectaire provided a delightful contrast to the crisp nature of Champagne.

🎵 Maurice Ravel, Piano Concerto in G major

Whenever I encounter a wine with a lively, effervescent charm, I am inspired to pair it with orchestral pieces. Certain composers have a gift for extracting the richest tones from instruments and blending their tonal qualities to create a new timbre. Names like Nikolai Rimsky-Korsakov, Igor Stravinsky, Claude Debussy, Gustav Mahler, and Maurice Ravel come to mind. However, this particular wine ignited my imagination and drew me toward Maurice Ravel’s Piano Concerto in G major. It’s a piece beloved for its clever instrumentation, lively spirit, longing melodies, and a fountain of charms. Clocking in at just over twenty minutes, it’s a compact masterpiece when compared to other piano concertos of Ravel’s contemporaries.

I vividly recall my first encounter with this piece, listening to Krystian Zimerman’s recording with Pierre Boulez and the Cleveland Orchestra. What makes this concerto a delicate balancing act is the potential for either the soloist or the orchestra to overpower the other. In the recording, however, the piano and orchestra achieve a perfect balance, with the piano seamlessly blending into the orchestra’s soundworld. The unique timbres of instruments like the piccolo, flute, E flat clarinet, English horn, trumpet, French horn, snare drum, triangle, and slapstick still shone through when needed. I was also captivated by Zimerman’s refined execution of all the arpeggios and glissandi, which added a velvety texture to the performance. What you hear is undeniably charming, but there are intricate layers beneath those charming bubbles. Much like the wine, experiencing it firsthand is the only way to truly understand what I am talking about.

Here is a list of other recordings I enjoy listening to.

Videos:

Arturo Benedetti Michelangeli | Sergiu Celibidache | London Symphony

Martha Argerich | Emmanuel Krivine | Orchestre National de France

Introduction

I fell in love with the Savigny-lès-Beaune region in Bourgogne when I tasted the 2018 Domaine Pierre Guillemot Savigny-lès-Beaune ‘Les Grands Picotins’ at Cote. My wife treated me to a Burgundy and Korean BBQ pairing dinner, and what intrigued me most about the wine was its thin, highly aromatic, and sensitive structure. Later, I discovered that the key characteristics of wines from Savigny-lès-Beaune include a long-lasting finish, high acidity, and pleasant strawberry-like notes.

When I first met Jason from Jersey Wine and Spirit, I asked him if he could recommend something similar to the Savigny-lès-Beaune I had enjoyed at Cote. Unfortunately, the store didn’t have any from the region that day, but he suggested the 2020 Jérôme Galeyrand Fixin ‘Champs de Vosger’ instead. That wine deserves its own separate post because it changed my life and set me on a wine journey.

🍷 Le Puy de l’Ours

Jason remembered how much I loved wines from Savigny-lès-Beaune. One day, while I was at the store to pick up something else, he recommended the 2021 Le Puy de l’Ours ‘Clos des Godeaux.’ I found out that this was Domaine du Puy’s very first vintage. This got me excited, as I always root for passionate independent makers. It took me a while to find the right moment to uncork this wine, but I finally had the opportunity. After returning home from a nice dinner, it was quite late when I opened the bottle. My friend, visiting from out of town, my wife, and I decided to open this wine because none of us knew what to expect except for the Savigny-lès-Beaune characteristics.

As we returned from a sumptuous dinner, we decided to forgo another round of food or snacks. Instead, we opted to savor the wine in its purest form, without any pairing. It was a delightful experience to fully immerse ourselves in the wine and pay meticulous attention to all its subtle notes. While I have a profound appreciation for pairing wine with a well-prepared meal, there is an undeniable pleasure in sipping fine wine without any additional accompaniments, allowing me to wholeheartedly concentrate on the wine itself.

What a delightful wine it turned out to be! It exudes sophistication, reminding me of the tiny red flowers one would see in the countryside. The pronounced strawberry notes were accompanied by unexpected hints of black pepper, nutmeg, and cinnamon. As the wine opened up, it revealed more red fruit notes like raspberry, sour cherry, red cherry, and even more strawberry. The wine was smooth and had a silkiness similar to milk chocolate. There is something comforting about the strawberry notes; perhaps it’s because I always enjoyed eating biscuits with strawberry jam when I was little.

Regarding the vinification process, this wine originates from an organic-certified vineyard, boasting clay-limestone soils enriched with white marls and basking in southwestern exposure. It is then aged in oak barrels, not new ones, for a duration of 10 months. This aging process likely accounts for the subtle hints of nutmeg and cinnamon that grace the wine’s palate.

🎵 Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, Piano Sonata No. 16 in C major, K. 545

Unlike me, my wife is not a big fan of wines from Savigny-lès-Beaune, yet she enjoyed how the wine unfolded its story. Overall, the wine was very pretty, exhibiting the purity and essence of key Savigny-lès-Beaune characteristics. Because of its purity and prettiness, this wine reminded me of Mozart’s Piano Sonata No. 16 in C major, K. 545. Yes, the one everyone learns to play at some point during piano lessons. It is often overplayed by many, but definitely not played enough by the greatest pianists in concerts.

I had the opportunity to hear this piece played live by Mitsuko Uchida at Carnegie Hall a few years ago. I eagerly anticipated her performance, as I personally think she is one of the best Mozart interpreters. Even though I had heard the piece a million times, her performance gave me the impression of listening to it for the first time. There was freshness, refinement, purity in tone, and drama.

Mozart wrote this sonata to be played by beginners. However, it is often more challenging to play when there are fewer notes and to capture simplicity. The technical aspects may be designed for less experienced pianists, but there is much to consider in terms of the musical aspects when performing this piece. In other words, it is a difficult piece to master, as Mitsuko Uchida did in her concert.

1. Allegro

2. Andante

3. Rondo: Allegro

I titled my post “Le Grand Début.” This is not only in reference to the wine’s début millésime but also because Savigny-lès-Beaune rekindled my love for wine, much like how Mozart's Sonata serves as a debut piece for many aspiring pianists.

The 2021 Le Puy de l’Ours ‘Clos des Godeaux’ truly embodies purity, freshness, terroir, and, most importantly, unlimited potential. I cannot wait to taste other wines from this maker over the years. I still find myself asking the same question I had when I opened this bottle:

Can you believe that this is the very first vintage from the winemakers?

Other premiers vins millésimés from Domaine du Puy de l’Ours:

• Blanc:

  • L'Absurde - Blanc de Noirs

  • Côte de Beaune Les Monsnières

• Rouge:

  • Savigny-lès-Beaune Clos Des Godeaux

  • Savigny-lès-Beaune Les Follettes

After dipping my toe into the sea of Burgundy wines, I found myself unable to escape its allure. In fact, I’ve been joyfully submerged, embracing every moment. The world of Burgundies has overwhelmed me in the best way possible, and I’ve been thoroughly enjoying the experience. As I’ve delved deeper, I have discovered numerous talented producers and learned to discern between different terroirs and plots within the same region. This journey has been nothing short of magnificent.

However, there came a day when I felt the urge to explore something new. A close friend from out of town was visiting, presenting the perfect opportunity for a change of pace. In our younger days, my friend and I had uncorked countless bottles of Bordeaux wines. Nostalgia and the desire to reignite that old passion led me to consider trying Bordeaux once again.

A few weeks ago, my wife and I attended an event at Somm Cellars. While there, we had the opportunity to consult Yoomin for his recommendations on Bordeaux wines. Following his guidance, we were directed to their cellar, where Yoomin suggested the 1989 Château Sociando-Mallet from Haut-Médoc. Given our history of seeking his advice and thoroughly enjoying his selections, we trusted his judgment without hesitation.

The chosen bottle, along with other items we had purchased that day, was promptly delivered to our home. Anticipating the enjoyment of the wine, I took precautions the day before opening it. I stored the bottle upright, allowing any sediments and residues to settle at the bottom. Additionally, I ensured the blades of my bilame were meticulously cleaned. As this marked my inaugural experience with an “aged” Bordeaux, I harbored a mix of excitement and uncertainty about what lay ahead. Despite some reservations, I was genuinely enthusiastic to partake in the narrative that the wine would unfold.

With careful precision, I extracted the aged cork. To ensure the wine's stability, I gently transferred the contents into a decanter. A flashlight proved invaluable in aiding my separation of the sediments, which had settled near the shoulder of the bottle.

The anticipation finally gave way, and the wine flowed into our awaiting glasses. A rich aroma of dark fruits and dry leaves enveloped us, an olfactory prelude to the experience ahead. The initial sip was a revelation; it was hard to fathom that the wine had matured gracefully within its glass confines for over three decades. Its youthfulness was unmistakable, accompanied by a beautifully structured body. Though the tannins lingered, they had mellowed with time, contributing to a rounded and harmonious flavor profile.

The palate revealed multiple flavors—dark plum, black currant, hints of cinnamon, nutmeg, and a touch of licorice and oak. As we savored the first glass, an almost reverent hush fell upon us. Words eluded us, replaced by a shared sense of awe as the wine wove its narrative around us.

Amidst the speechless awe of our companions, I found myself immersed in my own journey. I closed my eyes and envisioned strolling through a woodland during the autumn months. The trees adorned in hues of yellow, orange, red, and brown whispered tales of seasonal change. The path I walked was strewn with dry leaves, their delicate rustle accompanying my steps. A gentle breeze carried the aroma of fallen leaves and damp soil, heightening the sensory experience. The leisurely walk through this woodland reverie suddenly transformed as strains of music graced the air. It was the timeless classic of Johannes Brahms’s String Sextet No. 1 in B flat major.

🎵 Johannes Brahms, String Sextet No. 1 in B flat major

The wine’s inviting character and mature complexity seamlessly complemented Brahms’s timeless masterpiece. This composition had captured my heart back in college, where it was a cherished companion during many solitary nights in my dorm room. There was an inherent soothing quality to this piece, perhaps attributed to the warmth of the strings and the choice of the key of B flat. (I’ve always found major keys of B flat, F, and A flat to be particularly comforting.)

Brahms completed it in 1860, at the age of 27. Like many composers of the post-Beethoven era, Brahms grappled with the towering legacy of Beethoven’s artistry. It took Brahms a staggering fourteen years to compose his very first symphony, a genre Beethoven had championed. He envisioned this symphony as a direct continuation of the German symphonic lineage that Beethoven had pioneered.

However, it wasn’t just the symphony; Brahms also struggled to create a string quartet, another genre in which Beethoven had excelled. In fact, Brahms’s first string quartet was completed when he was forty after nine years. In lieu of a quartet, Brahms ingeniously composed a chamber piece for strings—the String Sextet—adding two additional instruments to the traditional quartet, two violins, viola, and cello. Although Brahms’s first String Sextet was crafted in his twenties, the composition was impeccably structured, adorned with exquisite melodies and harmonies that showcased his burgeoning genius.

For our food pairing with the Sociando-Mallet, I opted for a pan-sear a succulent short rib steak cooked medium-rare, complemented by a side of sautéed mushrooms and string beans. To balance the richness, I prepared a quick coleslaw infused with a sandwich sauce. The classic steak and Bordeaux red combination was a match made in heaven, while the sides added an array of flavors to elevate the overall dining experience.

Prior to indulging in the Bordeaux red, I had the pleasure of opening a bottle of 2021 Chanterêves Pét Nat, providing a delightful contrast to the red wine. This sparkling selection served as an intriguing prelude to our Bordeaux experience.

Following our meal, my friend and I continued to enjoy the Sociando-Mallet as we caught up on life’s happenings. It was a bittersweet moment when we reached the bottom of the bottle, prompting us to filter out the sediments and residues in a quest to savor every last drop.

This encounter marked our very first experience with an aged Bordeaux, and it left an indelible impression. The time and years spent in the bottle had truly transformed the wine, making the evening exceptionally memorable. It not only opened our eyes but also rekindled my deep-seated affection for Bordeaux red wines.

These are two outstanding live performance videos to share. The first video features the CMS Lincoln Center performance of the first movement. For the complete performance, simply click HERE.

When it comes to Pétillant Naturel, it’s often seen by the general public as a trend or a hip fad that will eventually fade away, much like orange wine. Every time I encounter such views, it truly saddens me. I have a genuine appreciation for Pét Nat; it’s not just a passing interest for me. The transient nature of trends, which leads to a surge of newer producers jumping on the bandwagon and producing subpar Pét Nats, will likely diminish over time, in my opinion. This is because these offerings fail to provide any real value to wine enthusiasts like myself. In essence, quality wine speaks for itself.

Pét Nat, short for Pétillant Naturel, represents a distinctive variety of sparkling wine that undergoes bottling before the initial fermentation completes. The result is a delicate effervescence, with fine bubbles naturally forming within the bottles. These wines may occasionally contain unfiltered yeast particles, lending them a slightly cloudy appearance. In contrast to traditional cork closures, Pét Nats employ crown caps similar to those found on beer bottles. Known for their approachable and unpretentious character, Pét Nats offer a unique and easily enjoyable drinking experience.

I first encountered Chanterêves1 at Somm Cellars at a Rosé tasting event. Among the 41 bottles presented, it was Chanterêves’s Marsannay Rosé that truly captured my attention. Intrigued, I delved into learning more about the winemakers behind it, as they were unfamiliar to me. One fascinating discovery was that Chanterêves is a venture led by a husband-and-wife duo who initially crossed paths while working at Domaine Simon Bize et Fils, one of my personal favorite winemakers in Bourgogne. To this day, Guillaume, as I understand, continues to serve as the cellar master at Bize. As one of Bourgogne’s most exceptional boutique producers, Chanterêves unquestionably deserves the spotlight.

I persistently searched for other wines by Chanterêves in New York, but it wasn’t easy to locate them. However, a fortunate turn of events occurred one day when my wife and I visited Wine Therapy to retrieve another item. During our visit, we stumbled upon a Pét Nat from Chanterêves. Since we were on foot and needed to carry our purchases home, we were limited in the number of bottles we could acquire. The decision of whether to add another Chanterêves bottle to our selection weighed on me. Ultimately, I opted to solely go for the Pét Nat.

I had a classical music festival on my schedule, involving performances and featuring my participation. Serendipitously, my close friend was also part of the event. With plans to travel together, he arrived a couple of days prior to the festival’s commencement. He and I have shared innumerable wine bottles throughout our twenties, leading me to discern his preferences and familiar choices. This prompted me to select something entirely different, a wine he likely has never experienced before. Hence, my choice fell upon the 2021 Chanterêves Pét Nat.

First and foremost, the wine presents an eye-catching label featuring cats in kimonos observing mice in similar attire engaged in musical and dance festivities. This unconventional label serves as an engaging conversation starter, narrating the tale of a fun and laid-back wine. As the wine is poured into the glass, it reveals a graceful cascade of fine bubbles. The wine itself, presenting a pinkish hue with a subtle lavender undertone, remains notably cloudy, concealing its contents from view.

Upon nosing, a delightful medley of fresh fruits emerges, including the notes of red plum and red cherry. While the olfactory experience proves satisfactory, the taste is equally exceptional. The palate detects a harmonious interplay between the tartness and freshness of red plum and red cherry, accompanied by a delicate hint of strawberry. The effervescence of the bubbles adds an invigorating layer to the overall profile, akin to a freshly squeezed fruit juice.

Characterized by its zesty acidity, the wine maintains a resolutely tart and non-sweet disposition. Alongside these qualities, there is a noticeable yeastiness that enhances the complexity, all while a generous effusion of bubbles enlivens the palate. To enhance the wine’s easy-drinking nature and preserve its freshness, I chose to serve it slightly cooler than other sparkling wines, such as Champagne.

💿 Deep Purple, Machine Head (1972)

Determining whether a wine is well-crafted is often an objective evaluation, while expressing one’s connection to a wine is more subjective. To elaborate, declaring a wine as ‘good’ doesn’t necessarily equate to personal enjoyment. A similar principle applies to music and performers. Consider Deep Purple, a legendary band that actively graced stages from the 1960s through the 1970s. Even after an 80s reunion accompanied by lineup changes, the band’s musical essence endures, distinctly recognizable. Just as in the realm of wines, appreciating their music hinges on personal taste, which doesn’t necessarily encapsulate the entirety of their identity as artists and musicians.

While I typically refrain from pairing a bottle of wine with an entire album due to the potential diversity of songs within an album, there are exceptions, and this time is one of them. The lively and stylish qualities of the wine seemed to harmonize perfectly with Deep Purple’s Machine Head. Additionally, the album’s dynamic and fast-paced tracks complement the wine’s character in an intriguing manner.

A while ago, I came across an article on Noble Rot2 discussing the intriguing interplay between Hip Hop and Burgundy wines during the 80s and 90s, which had evolved into a captivating cult phenomenon. While Burgundian wines are now gaining increased attention, they were notably less renowned back then compared to Bordeaux wines. Consequently, a unique trend emerged, captivating the interest of Hip Hop artists and their followers. These aficionados delved into savoring these wines within the intimate ambiance of secluded, speakeasy-like clubs that required cash entrance fees. During this era, music and wine information weren’t as readily accessible as they are today. This environment fostered gatherings among like-minded individuals who shared a mutual passion for both music and wine, subsequently sparking a phenomenon.

As an individual who relishes older rock and pop music (when I’m not indulging in classical repertoire), I resonate deeply with the concept of a community bound. The contrast is that music is now effortlessly available through various streaming platforms, though the live event experience has waned. Simultaneously, I remain perpetually on the hunt for dedicated and adept small growers and makers. I express my support by not only purchasing their wines but also delving deeper into their winemaking philosophy. Understanding the principles and beliefs that underlie their craft allows me to forge a more meaningful connection with their creations. This connection, rooted in shared values, enhances the enjoyment. In essence, I’m becoming a participant in a movement that merges the timeless classics with innovative yet novel creations.

Both wine and music possess the remarkable capacity to transcend the boundaries separating objectivity from subjectivity. While technical prowess holds significance in both the realms of music-making and winemaking, there emerges a transformative quality that allows one to truly relish the artistry inherent in these crafts. Much like savoring a fine wine, engaging with an album becomes a journey in itself. As we immerse ourselves in the subtle nuances, reactions, and interpretations within these artistic expressions, we become an integral part of that journey. This synergy of appreciation enriches the entire experience, ultimately rendering it a tapestry of delights to savor.