La Puerta, Torrontes, 2010, La Rioja, Argentina

I'm in the rank armpit of a Canadian heat wave. People here are simply not accustomed to dealing with intense heat. They get quite unhinged. I choose to look on the bright side of things - white wine tastes amazing when you are glazed with varnish of sweat. And the wine drinking makes the state of being unhinged a lot more entertaining. Finally, hot weather also trims your criteria for white wine down to a very manageable list: it must be ice cold, clean, acidic, and possess delicately refreshing fruit. So long live the heatwave. I'm a big fan of Argentinian Torrontes. It pulls through on all of these key indicators and is especially forgiving with respect to price. This is one of my everyday wines. La Puerta is no glory-boat. It's salt of the earth. Sub-$10. Your nonno would approve. I'm matching it with some mussels with double smoked bacon, blue cheese and more Torrontes.

Ruffino, Tenuta Lodola Nuova, Vino Nobile de Montepulciano, DOCg, 2006

One of the main food pairings found in Tuscany is wild boar, tomato, fresh pasta and Sangiovese. People live on this and for good reason. It's delicious. The issue really becomes about which Sangiovese you choose. What I've pulled out tonight was a gift. I don't know too much about the producer. No big deal. Of all the many fascinating regions and subregions in Italy, Tuscany is the most well-known internationally and probably the most mundane. I don't want to disrespect all those Under the Tuscan Sun die-hards, but as superstar sommelier Rajat Parr states in his stellar book Secrets of Sommeliers, "All you need to know about the supposedly best ( Tuscan Sangiovese), Brunello di Montalcino, is that in 1960 exactly eleven producers were making it and today their ranks have swollen to over two hundred." That's a diluted product. Having said that, certain foods have an preternatural groove with certain wines - typically those that evolved together on the same plots of land. Sangiovese just goes with wild boar and tomato sauce, or so I am hoping. I am matching it not with a Brunello but with a Vino Nobile di Montepulciano. Wine from this region tends to be similar to a Chianti Riserva with a fuller, softer, more fruit-forward thrust. We'll see.

Chateau Montelena, Zinfandel, Calistoga Napa Valley, 2007

 

Chateau Montelena is one of those epic Californian houses, best known for helping to put Napa Valley on the world wine map when they beat four top Burgundian Chardonnays in a 1976 blind tastings with their 73 Chardonnay. Check out Bottle Shock. Great wine film. There's a scene where all the young Montelena interns are trying to win some money for some reason on their vintage-deduction prowess. I like that Six Feet Under guy, but I think he makes a better undertaker. I applaud his enthusiastic mouth-work, but I'm not buying his show. It must be a great skill to have though - to be able to dazzle with your varietal knowledge on the spot like that, with so much adrenaline churning about the roadhouse. Things could have got ugly. I want Matt Damon to make Good Will Hunting Part 2, but this time he's a sommelier - asking everyone at a wine tasting how they like his apples. By the way, don't steal my script ideas. Speaking adrenaline pumps, I've got to get back to my souffle. I'm matching a dry zinfandel with a chocolate one of those.

Nyarai Cellars, Veritas, 2007, Niagara Peninsula VQA

Conventional wisdom states that Niagara is home to serious emerging wines - Rieslings, Sauvignon Blancs, Pinot Noirs, sparkling and ice wines. Mainly those varietals that thrive in Northern France. Canada has many good things. Its weather is not one of them. Following this logic, if you swear by California Cabernet Sauvignon or Australian Shiraz you should probably veer away from Ontario Bordeaux blends or, god help you, shiraz or cab franc blends. Green and tannic come to mind. But what do you expect? There isn't enough sunshine or a long enough growing season to produce big lush wines in the new-world style. You can't squeeze deep, full-bodied reds from five month snow-drifts. Well, that's not necessarily true. An exceptional wine maker in an exceptionally warm year can shatter conventional wisdom with well placed rabbit-punches.

Prieure de Montezargues, Rosé, 2009, Tavel, Rhone

Rosé. For a long time, North Americans dismissed pink wines as little more than a change of pace beverage for ladies who chug their white wine with ice cubes and debate the sexual currency of leopard pattern versus fluorescent green miniskirts. This slander is connected to white zinfandel. Sweet, sloppy and fractions from a California Cooler, white zinfandel is pretty traumatic if you enjoy dry, well-built wines.