Chateau Montelena is probably most noted for their Chardonnay, which won the Judgment of Paris in 1976. The winery itself has changed hands several times since then, but the great Chateau still stands (though it’s become a bit of a tourist trap) in the great grape-land that is Napa Valley. And they still, of course. produce exquisite Chardonnay.
I’m not hep with the latest Hollywood gossip. My celebrities, on most days, wear hiking boots, flannel shirts, and rarely any jewelry, lest a string of pearls gets hooked on a crooked vine. When Clarissa Nagy, owner and winemaker of Nagy Wines, contacted me about tasting and reviewing her current releases, I was star-struck. In my eyes, Clarissa is an inspiration — for women, for winemakers, for anyone who, like her, has found a passion and made it a life’s work.
It’s interesting that my first taste of Nagy would be a Viognier, a varietal that, to me, can be much too delicate — what some would call feminine. Often watery on the palate, diluting the over-pronounced tropical fruit juice flavors, and with an abundance of that funky floral nose, Viognier can be quite, well, pretty. Pretty but not (always) tasty. But what Clarissa has done here is crafted a Viognier with backbone and substance. A feminine wine? No, a feminist wine — a wine with strength, purpose, and beauty.
I’m in love with the boys at Banshee. But it’s purely wine-related, I assure you. How can I not be when they wrap everything I love about Sonoma into bottles of wine? Skeptical though you may be about a new-ish winery’s appellation series Chardonnay — I assure you, the 17 vineyard sites are anything buy crammed into the taste. Winemaker Noah Dorrance and team know how to show enough restraint to truly showcase –and enhance — the best qualities of the fruit. Cheers to Banshee Sonoma Coast Chardonnay.
I don’t like La Crema. And yet here I am on a cold winter night, wrapped in a warm blanket, supper furry UGG socks on, listening to the rain tap the window while the heater coughs up warm, if not a bit dusty, air. Oh yeah, and I’m drinking La Crema Chardonnay.
The act of drinking La Crema is, for me, a solo act — a bit like sneaking cookies after your parents go to bed. The utter butteriness, the creaminess that coats the mouth, that full-bodied, if not a bit fatty, texture on the tongue — you know you shouldn’t, and on most days you don’t. But when it’s what you’re craving…it’s what you have to have.
It’s ok, no one has to know. It’s our little secret. I won’t tell if you don’t…
I feel like this is a name I’ve seen around the stores for quite some time, but never actually grabbed a bottle. Maybe it’s because I’ve seen it so much, I just assumed it would be generic and unfulfilling. You’d think by now I’d learn never to assume anything when it comes to wine. Anyway, long story short, it was my partner in wine crime (who appears as a ghostly reflection if you peer into the bottle in the photo below) that picked this bottle out — kind of on a whim. Well, whim and assumptions aside, we were in for quite a treat when we popped the cork on this Mer Soliel Reseve Chardonnay.
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