Le Clos Chateau Isenbourg, 2008 Riesling, Alsace, France

Riesling really doesn't get the play it should. First of all, most people (myself included) pronounce the word incorrectly. Reese-ling. There's no 'z' in that word. Ask Jancis Robinson. She'll set you straight. Slap you around a little. Second, people assume that riesling is sweet. No. I'm sorry, but no. Not all riesling is sweet. Alsace riesling is, in fact, bone dry. Steely. Minerals. Petroleum. Notes of glacial waters. I blame this misconception on Black Tower. That crap my dad bought at Christmas to fulfill the wine quota, which would inevitably loom at the back of the fridge like a blunt hammer until some summer party, when an uncle would get hammered enough to finish it and then begin pooning with a sprinkler. Growing up in the suburbs was an education.

D'Arenberg High Trellis, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2007, McLaren Vale

If you're in the mood for a big south Australian red, you can rarely do better than D'Arenberg. Well, perhaps you can do better, but this producer is so consistently good and well-priced, that you rarely have to wonder if you've picked up a shallow wine. Tough to screw this up. It's always solid. At under $20, the High Trellis is one of my go-tos.

Seghesio Zinfandel, Sonoma County, California, 2009

Zinfandel is burly, opinionated, up in your face, intoxicating and - in the end - pretty gripping company. I'm not talking about white Zinfandel. That stuff is mostly criminal. But true Zinfandel is satisfying and honest. Blackberry and strawberry patch. Surges of pepper, oregano, thyme. Moderate tannins. High, high alcohol and uppercuts of fruit. Zinfandel didn't originate in the United States, however. DNA testing has traced its origins to Croatia and has also revealed that it is the same grape as Italian Primitivo. The Seghesio Family is Italian. Piedmont Italian. Their California vineyards lie where three important Sonoma Appellations meet - Dry Creek Valley, Russian River Valley and  Alexander Valley - and the family has been making Zinfandel since the late 1800s. Some of the Sonoma's finest Zinfandels. Their 2007 vintage made the Wine Spectator's Best 100 Wines of 2008. #10 on that list. 

Crios, Torrontes, 2009, Argentina

I've been accused of holding a pretty open grudge against the white wines of the world. Okay, considering that the first four wines featured in this blog have been red, I'll concede the point. Or at least I'll concede the basis for some basic confusion. I'd argue that the one-sided selection process has more to do with the weather in Canada during the months of December through March. A harsh meteorological reality. One that lends itself to braised shanks, oven-roasted birds, fall-off the bone stews consisting of noble hoofed beasts. And meat goes with red wine. Or does it? Jancis Robinson says, "it is body that matters more than colour." I'm interested.

Le Clos Jordanne, Claystone Terrace, 2006, VQA Ontario

I'm from Ontario, so we'll start with a wine from Le Clos Jordanne, a winery making international noise for its French-style Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs. If you're not from Ontario and want to know what the wine scene here is like, think Northern France and choose varietals that grow there. Pinot Noir. Chardonnay. Cabernet Franc. Riesling. Sauvingnon Blanc. Sparkling wines do well. Le Clos Jordanne has won some blind-tastings, going head to head with major Burgundy houses. It's a pretty big deal. The wine I had in my closet was from the Claystone Terrace vineyard. It isn't their top wine, but it isn't their basic Village either. Single estate level, I guess. It ran me about $40 a couple of years ago. [...]