Fragments and Reflections

The earth we inhabit is an error, an incompetent parody. 

Mirrors and paternity are abominable because they multiply and affirm it.

- J. L. Borges

Beverage of the Week: Marquis Philips Shiraz 2008

Any drink interacts with us in three basic ways - the eyes, the nose, the mouth. I've got my preferences and expectations for every kind of drink, but with red wine it's as follows:

1) I want to be able to hold it up and use it as a New Mexico sunshade.
2) I love catching fruit on the nose, but only squashed underneath something heavier and more complex - leather, cigar smoke, spices. It ought to smell like it's been sitting in the Masterpiece Theater study my wife claims I want.
3) I love fruity, dry wines - and that's not a contradiction. Big berries with low acidity, again smashed in-between deeper notes. The fruit shouldn't linger, but I should know it's there.

So, it's probably no surprise that Syrah tends to be a go-to wine for me. There's a lot of variety in the varietal (yuck yuck), but for big-thick-dry-fruit it's as safe a bet as any. The Australian product, which they insist on calling Shiraz just to get under my anal-retentive skin*, has become hugely popular in the last decade - mostly because they make plenty of mid-priced ones that you might call dumbed-down...or let's say, "more accessible." Marquis Philips, however, is a great example of what a simple Syrah/Shiraz ought to be - it ticks off everything on the list above. And while it's far from the deepest wine you'll ever have, it's something I could drink every damn night with satisfaction and without boredom.

It's currant black - you feel like you could make Rorsch blots with it. It's a silly preference, but I like having something in my glass that looks like it has some weight to it. The nose is big, ripe blueberries, black cherries and currant, with a hint of leather and grass - a little fruitier than I like, but the palate makes up for it. Up front it tastes like you've bit right into all those wild berries, but it quickly dries out - smoky, spicey, then gone. Yum.

Oh, and the critter on the bottle is called a "Roogle" - you may have seen other products from the winery under that name. Get it while you can - I've heard rumors they won't be making any more after the 2008 is gone.

Beverage of the Week: Alaskan Smoked Porter

Given the stupid cold, snowy weather here in New Mexico today, a tribute to one of my all-time favorite beers seems appropriate. Yes, it's undoubtedly tropical here compared to what's knocking on the doors of my friends back east - but trust me, nothing will take the edge off a frigid snowy night (or my incessant whining about the weather) like an Alaskan Smoked Porter.

ASP is a vintage beer, meaning they brew a batch yearly (on Nov 1), date it appropriately, and it will age quite nicely for 5 years or so. Back in New Albany, Richo's kept a small stock going back a few years on their menu with prices appropriately increasing to make sure a few bottles would linger forward from year to year. I still remember the first time I ponied up the 10 or so for a recent bottle - a damn lot of money back when ramen was the nutritional alternative to not eating. The first smoked beer I tried, it's still the standard I judge them by - smoke and musk on the finish, but not overpowering the rich chocolate and barley malt up front....just complimenting, accentuating it. In the past decade smoked beer has become more commonplace, but many just overpower everything with smoked malt until it tastes like a glass of bacon (not that a glass of bacon is all bad, mind you). The longer ASP ages, the more complexities you'll find in it - if you can put off drinking it for that long. I picked up an '09 a couple months back intending to shelve it until '13, but temptation got the better of me last weekend....

I've loved this beer for nearly a decade, way back when I first discovered the joys of porter, but I've only recently gotten to know more about the company behind it and their other products. Alaskan Brewing Company was started by an intrepid Alaskan transplant couple in the 80's, who obviously had way more constitution for snow and bone-cold than I ever will. Back east I'd never seen anything but the smoked porter, but in New Mexico and Colorado others aren't too hard to come by, and while their stout wasn't as exciting as I'd hoped, I must say their pale ale is quite pleasant and unique. And who can't love a brewery whose mission is dedicated not only to improving craft beer, but the local economy as well? Well done.