[wine] Vino de Tuscano - Tratoria Da Vinci

Mostly an update, and an article on a small winery tasting in Paris. ----- Forwarded message from "Jim L. Ellingson" <jellings(a)me.umn.edu> ----- Date: Tue, 4 Apr 2006 17:17:35 -0500 From: "Jim L. Ellingson" <jellings(a)me.umn.edu> To: wine(a)thebarn.com Subject: Tuscan Wines at Tratoria Da Vinci User-Agent: Mutt/1.5.4i Wow, it's been a year since we've been to TdV. Back on Thursday, 6:30. Wines from Tuscany. ----- Forwarded message from "Jim L. Ellingson" <jellings(a)me.umn.edu> ----- Date: Wed, 6 Apr 2005 13:19:13 -0500 From: "Jim L. Ellingson" <jellings(a)me.umn.edu> To: wine(a)thebarn.com User-Agent: Mutt/1.5.4i Trattoria da Vinci 400 Sibley St., St. P, 55101 222-4050 It's in the "far end" of down town St. Paul, near the Farmer's Market. If you're traveling on I94, take the 7th St. Exit. Who? Bob Lori Bill Janet Ruth yes Warren ?? Russ yes Sue ?? Jim yes Louise ?? Dave? Nicolai? Karin? Annette? Other things. Would be good to re-expand our Italian options. Perhaps January/February would be a good time to get into the place at Raymond and University in St. Paul (Biagio?) Raskells Plug Nickel Sale starts on 4/5/06. Cheers, Jim ----- End forwarded message ----- April 5, 2006 Letter From Paris Where Small Wineries Have Their Day By DONALD MORRISON One nice thing about the French is that they like to stand up for the little guy. That helps explain why they show saintly patience with losing sports teams and touching fidelity to small shopkeepers. Also why half the country has seemed to be in revolt against a new labor law that affects a relative handful of youthful job-seekers. But for the most enduring, enjoyable and perhaps self-serving display of French fondness for the underdog, come to the Espace Champerret, a convention center in northwestern Paris, from April 7 to 10. There, as they have for more than two decades, smart Parisians flock to buy their wine. It's the Salon des Vins et Vignerons Ind�pendants, the semiannual show of wines from small producers representing every French wine-growing region from Aloxe-Corton to Vouvray. Organized by Vignerons Ind�pendents de France (www.vigneron-independant.com) a 28-year-old club of 10,000 such small fry, the salon draws about 500 of them to its April show and more than 1,000 to the version in November at the larger Paris Expo center near the Porte de Versailles. Similar events take place in six other French cities every spring and fall, and together they attract nearly a half-million visitors a year. At every salon, the quality is high, the prices are low and the wines are generally not available in stores. Best of all, the spirit of solidarit� hovers over the hall like the bouquet of vanilla and nutmeg on a glass of Domaine de la Garni�re Chardonnay F�t de Ch�ne (a steal at 5.10 euros for the bottle, about $6.25 today, at 1.23 euros to the dollar). That was my first purchase at my first Paris salon two years ago. I quickly became not only a regular visitor to the event, but also an unofficial dependant of the Fleurance family, which owns the 69-acre Domaine de la Garni�re at St.-Crespin-sur-Moine in the Loire valley. Marie-Th�r�se Fleurance, matriarch of the clan, is a typical small vintner . barely four feet tall. But her wines are big and lusty, unusual qualities in a region known for its austere, flinty and sometimes astringent output. I had put my address on the bill of sale, and she phoned me a few weeks later to make sure I was coming to the next show. Inexpert in French, I thought she was yet another telemarketer of insulated windows and hung up. For producers like Ms. Fleurance and her sons (and co-proprietors) Pascal and Olivier, who lack the marketing budgets and economies of scale that big producers enjoy, the salons are make-or-break events. A few days later the Fleurances sent me a free ticket for the next salon. I used it, but sailed right by their stand . until Pascal called out my name, having remembered me from my pitifully small, six-bottle purchase of a half-year earlier. Now I receive regular invitations, price lists and other promotional material from the Domaine de la Garni�re, and I never fail to visit the stand. Or leave without a case or two. For winelovers, the salon is a rhapsody in red, white and ros�. For students of France and democracy, it is an education. In any sense, it's a terrific bargain . prices are generally the same as at the cellar door, sometimes even less. After paying the gentle 6 euro admission fee ($7.35), you are handed a 7.25-ounce Institut National des Appellations d'Origine glass, the recognized standard for wine evaluation, and set loose into a vast sea of sipping, slurping, spitting Parisians. The scene can be daunting at first. Acres of exhibitors are arranged randomly, not by region, to encourage browsing. Each one has the same, six-foot-long stand and is allowed to display no more than 10 wines. On my first visit, I wandered around in a daze for half an hour before working up the nerve to thrust my glass at a smiling vintner, who graciously poured a large mouthful of rough, nearly undrinkable red Cahors. I spit it out abruptly (every stand has a spittoon), thanked my benefactor . whose jollity never faded . and moved on. Two hours and about 60 wines later, I was having trouble distinguishing Rully from R�gni� . also seeing straight. And I was carrying two six-bottle cartons around in my arms. This was hard work. Since then I have honed several strategies for a successful salon attack. I am pleased to share them: Go early. The doors open at 10 a.m., and the crowds are mercifully thin until midafternoon. From then until closing time, at 8 p.m. (6 p.m. on the final night), it's madness. Either way, don't plan on doing any serious work afterward. Spit. Though the temptation to swallow will be great, especially if you run across a truly great wine, you'll never make it past the first few stands if you hesitate to expectorate. You can buy a bottle and drink it at home. Bring wheels. A folding luggage wheelie (take your own, or buy one in the hall for 39 euros) will let you tote away several cases, and both Paris shows are convenient to public transport. Better yet, take a taxi home. Just don't drive. France is cracking down on tipsy motorists, and random police checks are spreading. Talk wine. Vintners love to discuss their work, and many of them speak English. But to earn their lifelong gratitude, arm yourself with a few key phrases, like "bien charpent�" (well structured), "belle robe" (beautiful color), "gras" (fat), "souple" (supple), or the ultimate accolade, in ironic understatement, "�a se laisse boire!" (It's drinkable!). It's bad form to assert, even truthfully, that a wine isn't good. "Tr�s inter�ssant" is a diplomatic observation. And always say "merci" when receiving yet another (free) taste. I now look forward to the salons eagerly, trolling online discussion groups for tips about hot young vintners who may show up. Once in the hall, I'm always discovering great new wines, laughing along with wine-mellowed strangers as we jostle for attention at a popular stand, and even running into friends from the United States. My mailbox overflows with free salon tickets from winemakers whose wares I have sampled and schlepped home. Indeed, after hours in the company of these mostly gregarious, mostly struggling makers of a product they are willing to pour so generously and sell so cheaply, I find that I too am acquiring a decidedly French fondness for the underdog. Also for big lusty whites from the Loire. Copyright 2006 The New York Times Company ----- End forwarded message ----- -- ------------------------------ * * Dr. James Lee Ellingson, Adjunct Professor jellings(a)me.umn.edu * * University of Minnesota, tel: 651/645-0753 fax 651 XXX XXXX * * Great Lakes Brewing News, 1569 Laurel Ave., St. Paul, MN 55104 *