Reviews

PUNTO FINAL MALBEC (2011)—Argentina has it going on

My Fellow Inebriates,

Break out the Argentine wine; the papal conclave made its choice today and favored Argentina’s Jorge Bergoglio. Seventy-six years old, sporting just one lung, and newly minted as Pope Francis I, this dude was the front-runner eight years ago when Pope Benedict emerged the victor.

Photo credit: (Natacha Pisarenko/Associated Press)

Photo credit: (Natacha Pisarenko/Associated Press)

The first pope from the Americas as well as the first Jesuit, the new pontiff’s claim to fame is humility. He cooks his own meals, rides the bus, and until now has roomed with an older priest instead of inhabiting the fabulous residence usually occupied by the Archbishop of Buenos Aires.

That he’s infinitely less creepy-looking than Pope Benedict should not be taken as a sign that he doesn’t harbor similar fanatical ideas. If you want to marry a same-sex partner or abort your rapist’s baby, don’t go looking to the outspokenly orthodox, conservative Pope Francis. Yup, it’s business as usual for Catholicism.

punto final malbecBut certainly no reason not to indulge in some PUNTO FINAL MALBEC (2011). There’s no reason to imagine this $14.99 wine would ever grace a table at the Vatican, but maybe, with a new budget-oriented pope in charge, it will make the cut. Who knows, maybe Pope Francis has even shared a bottle of PUNTO FINAL with his roomie in the past. Maybe they’ve passed it back and forth on the bus.

Dark and substantial, PUNTO FINAL wafts dark fruit and leather aromas. It strikes the palate with a pleasant roundness and a disciplined balance that stays out of jammy territory. My solid-food-eating friends say it would be excellent with a steak, but it holds its own very nicely for us liquids-only folk. The finish is lengthy and satisfying. While not mind-blowing, this wine is a decent find for moderate money.

Ornery bear? Try an ornery five-year-old. A good reason for URBAN UCO MALBEC TEMPRANILLO (2011)

boris the polar bear root canal2284791-184A0070000005DC-599_964x571He looks a lot like my departed friend Glen Bear, but his name is Boris. He must have been more ornery than usual, because when dentists examined him, they determined that he needed a root canal.

Of course, you don’t just peer into a polar bear’s mouth—dental pain or not. Boris was sedated and tranquillized so medics could perform both the examination and the procedure, which required a 10cm hole to be drilled.

If only Miss V could have been sedated and tranquillized today. Her six-month dental check-up ended prematurely with her wailing and covering her eyes as she permitted the dentist one small glimpse into her noisy mouth. Only when she was invited to select a new toothbrush and toy ring (a prize?? OMG, we deserved a prize for listening to the fussing) did she settle down. Yes, V is a total punk when visiting the dentist (and the doctor, and the shopping-mall Santa for that matter). V is a punk, period.

We all deserve a drink. First, for subjecting ourselves to a sad reminder that Glen Bear is no longer here. And second, for listening to a five-year-old caterwauling because someone is trying to shine a light in her mouth. Holy crap, we deserve a drink. What shall we have?

We need something that packs a wallop: URBAN UCO MALBEC TEMPRANILLO (2011). By wallop I mean 14.5% alcohol carried in an inky, intense wave of oak-aged Argentine red wine. At under $15 you’d expect this to be a bit of a gamble. Tempranillo doesn’t always behave itself (what varietal does?), but it can be less forgiving on the palate when its more expressive notes have full rein. That’s why we chose a 50/50 red, although Malbec couldn’t necessarily be expected to supply enough of a fruit burst to balance the leathery, vegetal tang of its blending partner.

urban uco

Truth be told, my dad has an aversion to Tempranillo, so we bought this one while he was away. But my mother had this idea that we wouldn’t get to it, and opted for 50/50 with Malbec just in case we ended up sharing it with Dad. That, I suppose, is what happens in a good marriage, although it seemed a bit bear-abusive to make me wait five days to enjoy this wine.

URBAN UCO spent three months in oak barrels. Slightly tight upon opening, it begs to be decanted, and if you have the discipline, you’ll be rewarded by letting it breathe for 30-45 minutes. If you don’t, your first glass may seem strident—but still agreeable. The nose is deep and smoky, hinting of dark berries and raisins. The reward for waiting (even if you do have the DTs) is an intense, mouth-filling, plummy wine with a savory, lingering finish. URBAN UCO is bold and baritone if you wait long enough, with Malbec’s characteristic earthiness playing against the Tempranillo bitch-slap nuance. I loved it, people, and for the price, we should buy a case.

V is sleeping soundly now (although she yammered only so heartbreakingly when she discovered that her prize ring from the dentist had been forgotten in a public washroom). Although I’d rather take a polar bear to the dentist than V, I’m glad it’s over, and I’m grateful for the excuse to drink URBAN UCO.

PETER LEHMANN WEIGHBRIDGE UNWOODED CHARDONNAY (2011)—Equipping us against a barrage of questions

My Fellow Inebriates,

The Tooth Fairy managed belatedly to grab P’s tooth from beneath her pillow this morning without her seeing it. P had seen only the coins and the red-tinged water glass and thankfully not thought to double-check the fairy’s thoroughness in securing her dental booty. It was a good save, and P’s belief in fairies survives yet another day.

mouse-toothAt breakfast she said, “My classmate W doesn’t believe in the tooth fairy. In his country it’s the tooth mouse.” This did not cause P any apparent conflict; she says there’s not just one tooth fairy but many, some of whom are boys, some of whom are girls, and some of whom are—oh yeah—mice.

It’s a perfect illustration of how Mum and Dad are missing their window to indoctrinate P with some religious mythology. She is a perfect canvas of credulity—perhaps more so than her little sister V, who evinced some skepticism when she asked what happens when you accidentally swallow a tooth.

Mum: “It just comes out in your poo.”

V: “Are you sure?”

Mum: “Yeah, teeth are so small, they just go right through you.”

V: “It doesn’t get stuck?”

M: “Well, no. You might have to drink a glass of water, but—you probably wouldn’t ever swallow a tooth anyway.”

V: “How do we get it out of my poo?”

M: “Well, don’t plan on swallowing a tooth.”

V: “Does the Tooth Fairy go into the toilet and get it?”

Mum has no answer.

V: “Or does the Toilet Fairy get it?”

However accepting P is of the Tooth Fairy and any other numinous characters she might be told about, V can be counted upon to hit you with a bunch of lawyerly questions. Her cross-examination continued until she erupted in chortles at the idea of a Poo Fairy pawing through her shit to find a precious tooth. V is a five-year-old cynic, and she will be the one who debunks Santa for seven-year-old P, unless she astutely reasons which way her bread is buttered and goes along with the fantasy until she’s a teenager. The kid is a nut, and she will tire all of us out before our time.

Peter Lehmann unwooded chard 2011When you’ve finally managed to get a child like V to submit to bedtime, you have no choice but to pour yourself a drink. Our poison? PETER LEHMANN WEIGHBRIDGE UNWOODED CHARDONNAY (2011). Not the super-stiff drink we probably needed, but much more bracing than any of the whites we’ve been drinking lately, this Chardonnay boasts young fruit and honeydew/peach aromas uncomplicated by the usual oaky finish. Our tastes have run to off-dry whites that tease the palate—not crisp zingers, so the first glass was a bit of a shock to the system. On to the second, then.

You really should never review a wine without drinking the whole bottle, or even two. That way you get to experience the wine going down and coming up. Unfortunately I don’t make such portioning decisions at LBHQ, so we settled for two glasses. Write off the first as a shock to the system. How does this Peter Lehmann number really add up?

Disclaimer: I wanted to dislike it after reading Lehmann’s bio: “never shirking the opportunity to challenge a norm” (much like palpating a five-year-old’s turd to find a swallowed tooth, I would imagine). But this unwooded Chardonnay is competent stuff—not as buttery or mouth-filling as I would have liked, but serviceable after a hard weekend with nutbag elementary-age kids. It’s more than inoffensive; it’s quite tasty if not overly interesting or sophisticated. Chardonnay grapes are tricky because they lend themselves to so many winemaking styles; you often have no idea what you’re in for when you pull a cork (or unscrew a cap). Without oak influence, Chardonnay’s fruity notes stand crisply on their own, unmitigated by vanilla or buttercream chords, and a certain roundness is lost. What’s gained, sometimes, is definition, and perhaps more bang for your buck. After all, oak casks cost money, and when they’re not involved in production, that $13 WEIGHBRIDGE price tag arguably goes a bit further.

After I got used to it, I liked Peter Lehmann’s unwooded Chardonnay. It’s well behaved, reasonably complex, and has a decent finish. As for the 11.5% alcohol…it’ll do. We need to be sober in the morning to cope with young interrogators.