(We welcome a new writer, and friend, this week: Amanda Shuster.) It
was a sultry midsummer night in New Orleans. My last night in town, I
was on a reprieve from the chaotic, semi-corporate drunkfest that Tales
of the Cocktail was morphing into. Out and about with two new friends:
Mike Kobrin , a trumpet player [Edit. note: Mike is also the Web Editor WWOZ, our round the clock soundtrack in and out of New Orleans] who was introduced to me the night before in
absentia by a mutual friend in New York and Jason Rowan, a writer and fellow
drinks enthusiast, who was introduced to me by Mike. We’d been together
for just a couple of hours, but in that time, it had become apparent we
had a rare chemistry, sharing a comfortable camaraderie and easily
playing off each other’s comic flare. In other words, we were laughing
a lot.
After meeting up at a bar on Frenchman St. and getting a short tour of the Lower 9th Ward, Mike decided to bring us to his favorite out of the way wine bar called Bacchanal. The front is set up like a general store for wine, lots of inexpensive treats in racks amid baskets and hand-written notes. Specials and wines by the glass are listed on a chalkboard behind the counter.
Chilled wines are by the counter. We decided to get a whole bottle to share, and since it was such a hot, humid night, we wanted something flavorful, but refreshing. My eyes immediately found one of my very favorite bottles from Spanish Basque country (I have a real penchant for Spanish wines and until recently, I was the Spanish wine buyer for a retailer in NYC), Ameztoi Txakoina (pronounced Chalk-o-leena) Rubentis. The person working behind the counter mentioned that the wines would soon be scarce since the vineyards had recently been paved over, news that saddened me immensely! I have since tried to verify this, but have only been told that no one has it in supply anymore for any given reason, and the last bottles on shelves are rare and worth buying, 2008 being the last vintage. It was made in very limited quantity to begin with.
We
took our precious bottle out back to the huge garden patio area, a
pretty, remote spot that seems more fitting with Tuscany than the jazzy
decadence of New Orleans. We were the sole customers. As we opened the
bottle, we immediately resumed our easy repartee. Our wine ended up
being perfect for that night and moment. It’s made from a blend of
Hondarribi Zuri and Hondarribi Belta, grapes from the Getaraiko Txakolina
region on the Atlantic Coast of the Iberian Peninsula. A light,
slightly fizzy, salmon pink rosé, with balanced acidity. The tiny
bubbles don’t come on as a full attack the way some cheap sparklers do,
but instead, add just the right amount of zing to the palate. Despite
being so light in body, the flavors are full enough to make peace
between white and red wine drinkers alike, with fresh, tart strawberry,
citrus and faint cinnamon notes. So easy to drink, it seemed we’d
polished off that bottle in mere minutes.
If you see this wine anywhere, just buy it! Recommended serving suggestion: anything you eat on a hot summer’s day, plus three great friends and a beautiful garden, away from all the hurries, worries and commotion. A.S.
Amanda Schuster works in the wine and spirits industry and also makes jewelry. In other words, she is a professional alcoholic with a blowtorch.
Comments