Cantaloupe

Tonight smelled of cantaloupe.

Picnic at Caumsett State Park

Impressions of a picnic with Pineau D'aunis rosé

There was some wine left from the picnic, not big drinkers my friends, and so I finished it off. This time the rosé was fruity, watermelon and a hint of grapefruit? It was very different from what I had remembered at lunch the day before.

We were hot. The large leafy trees on the path we took to the bay only partly shaded us and insects buzzed around our heads.

As soon as we caught sight of the bay I wanted in. But my friend wanted a better picnic spot. Finally we found one and I went in the water. Not really swimming, more like a dunk to cool off in. Then we leaned against a big boulder sunk halfway into the beach sand.

The top of a short cliff with a forest of pine trees haunted at our backs while crumbly red dirt underneath the top seemed intent on pushing us, eventually, into the sea. PIneau D'Aunis 2008 Clos Roches Blanches on a rocky pebbly sandy and sea weedy bay beach on Long Island. We drank it with blueberries, a peach, some quinoa salad with corn and peppers, hummus, pita chips, some home made brown bread, cheddar cheese and mozarella cheese.

It was lovely and surprising. It had just enough fruit as to not be austere and had that distinct peppery earthy humus that I recognise as pineau d'aunis. But as it is a rosé wine the undertow of sobriety complecated things nicely. It was as if it were trying to tell us something else.

Sometimes I think maybe I read too much into the wines that I love, but maybe the wines I love have enough in them, enough structure, enough nuance that they inadvertantly create a place where one can hang one's thoughts.

Am I the only one who feels that pineau d'aunis is a somber, almost melancholic cepage? It does seem to me ancient.

Vielles Vignes Éparses 2005 Coteaux du Loir

That's right. That's the Loir, not the Loire. The Loir is a tributary river that runs to the north of the Loire and eventually feeds into the Loire river. It is one of the most northernly places in which vines are grown and wine is made and the wine is delicious. The varieties are chenin blanc for white and pineau d'aunis for red and rosé.

Domaine de Bellivière, Eric Nicolas is my favorite. Although admittedly it is hard to find Coteaux du Loir and Jasnières (a tiny part of C du L). This wine was being "closed out" by Chambers St wines. Because of the off-dry-ness of it Vielles Vignes Éparses were hard to sell. Well it was great for me. The wine is wonderful.

But hard to describe. Drinking it, and it was a couple of days ago, and then it was the third day the bottle was open but closed up with a cork in my fridge, an image of a dark silvery grey cloud hanging in a dark sky. It is not a sunny day but not cold. You can feel ions in the air. The wine is intensely mineral and austere. A wine for contemplation.

But greedily, not at all saintly, I wish I had bought more.

Clar de Castanyer 2007

Yesterday I made little neck clam pizza from a recipe from the NYTimes about Franny's in Brooklyn. I just had the pizza a couple of weeks ago at Franny's and it was so good I had to stop myself from going back there every night since then. In fact I am still holding back and now have another reason: I can't make it nearly as well as they do. I will try again, but honestly it was like a different pie.

But we drank a wine that wasn't on the list there and probably won't be because it's Spanish. What a weird funky easy to love wine.

It was this wonderful white wine that I bought at Chambers St Wines (my favorite wine store. I am so lucky to live near by) under the recommendation of one of the guys there. Wonderful Clar de Castanyer, 2007. I don't know why I thought it would be good with the clams though, well, it is white wine afterall. I think I was lucky.

The color was a golden bright yellow. (The photo I took has the wine already taken out of the bottle. Sorry. But there are other pictures of it on Flicker that do the wine justice.)

I held it up to my nose: what the hell was that aroma so distinct and persistant without tiring you? It had a richness like something made with nutty butter but there wasn't any butter. It smelt like a spiced pear tart. Definitely this champagne-like aroma of fermentation and patisserie. And it had enough weight to it to match the briny seafull clams, cream and that little spark of hot pepper flakes. I guess that sounds like a weird combination pear tart and clams. But there it is.

Richard Olney

I love the writing of Richard Olney, especially when he writes of wine. This is one of my favorite passages. It is from "Ten Vineyard Lunches". Inside he presents menus from all the great wine regions of France. (Except Champagne—he does make a kind of excuse for this). This book is very interesting especially for pairing wines with food. And you can find it for very little used online.) This passage is from the Loire Valley lunch.

The Touraine red wines — Bourgueil and Saint-Nicolas-de-Bourgueil on the right bank, Chinon across the river and, adjoining Chinon across the border in Anjou, Saumur-Champigny — are the friendliest of wines: jubilant, frank and open, mingling herbal, grassy scents and flavors with an intense wild berry fruit that some define as raspberry, others as blackcurrant or bramble, and that may simply be the fruit of Cabernet franc.

When drinking one of these wines, cool, on a hot day in the mottled shade of the grape arbor, I have only to close my eyes to recapture a child's summertime sensation of lying face-down in the grass and cutting out the whole world except for vegetal and earthy scents and the lonely plaint of mourning doves in the silent air.

A Walk in the Woods

We had meant to go river rafting but the weather was too rainy so instead of being cooped up all day we decided to go for a little hike in the Pisgah National Forest nearby.

It was raining off and on the whole way to the pulloff on the road to the spot but just when we arrived the rain eased off a bit and we clambered up the wooded hillside towards the waterfall.

There were two waterfalls. We had to cross the first one to get to the second larger. It was really beautiful all green forest. The leaves had not yet been out long and were still soft. You could put your face on it and feel the newness of them, hoping some would slide onto yours.

At the larger waterfall my father had to get under the cold water pounding down breaking and smoothing the rocks underneath. Quite a sight seeing my dad 72 years old completely naked wading out into the shower. He found a stick to steady him on the slippery rocks. He looked like some old saint with childlike wonder in his expression.

On the way back, maybe an hour and a half later tiny white mushrooms (I think there were Pinwheel Marasmius) had appeared out of dead leaves unnoticed before.  My little niece put forward her tiny white fingers to touch each one. She had to touch them. As she touched it the mushroom seemed as surprised and delighted as she did. Her tiny white pink finger and the tiny white head and stalk of the mushroom bouncing backwards in recognition and a kind of fright. 

Then she would see another.

"I've got to touch that one," she said.

Here's a video I made a long time ago but seems right here.

L'Arpent Rouge 2007 Clos Roche Blanche

I pull out a mushroom risotto I made last night and open a bottle of  Clos Roche Blanche L'Arpent Rouge 2007. Maybe not such a great match but this is what I have and they are both good.

The color of the wine is light light like a pinkish blueish red rose when the sun isn't quite all the way up, when it is still too dark and most of the colors aren't quite colors but tinted greys. Translucent dusky rose raspberries and refreshing. An almost and alternating transparent cotton patterned dress. The fruits and herbs dangle, caught in shifting patterns.

The nose is a rose filled with raspberries as you are picking them, some a little past, a little dried and concentrated by the sun. And it sounds strange but a whiff of dried orange rind. And it's on the palate too! 

But there is more more in there. I 'd love to drink it with some lovely chalky white chevre, no not completely fresh, something maybe with the fatty edging its way into the chalkiness, no bread. Just the cheese.