Ople, or bul

Dr. Konstantin Frank 2008 Dry Riesling (Finger Lakes) – Underripe, awkward, and trying too hard. It certainly gives the impression of minor sweetness, whatever the residual datum. Not very interesting, and thus its extreme shortness is somewhat of a blessing. (9/11)

The Republic of riesling

Hermann J. Wiemer 2009 Dry Riesling (Finger Lakes) – Anyone who tastes wine “seriously” (whether for professional or personal reasons) has to find a way to deal with their biases and preconceptions. Simple-minded harpies screech their “blind tasting” mantra as if it’s Genesis 1:1 in 16-point bold print, but no one who actually understands wine fails to see the extreme limitations of that format; there’s just too much that can’t be properly understood without having some sort of context for one’s responses. That said, there are infinite ways in which a label or the wine itself can invite ancillary judgments that don’t accurately reflect what the taster is experiencing.

So it is with Finger Lakes rieslings, which are constantly being promoted to riesling-loving tasters via blind tastings and brown bags and “ringer”-style trickery. I understand the impulse, but it’s ultimately pointless; one way or another, the wines are going to have to be able to stand or fall on their own merits, without resorting to contests in which the peer group is purely arbitrary and with which the terroirs of the Finger Lakes shouldn’t have anything in common to begin with.

…which is a long-winded way of saying that I engaged in a mighty personal struggle with this wine, wanting both to grant it extra care as a representative of an underappreciated region and wanting to work hard to demonstrate its specific failings in relation to its international peers. I have no idea how that ridiculously fraught environment in which I examined the wine (with and without dinner) affected my response, except to say that I tried really hard to express what was wrong with it, and in the end really couldn’t come up with much. It’s a good wine that starts out a little awkward and reductive, gets a lot better with sufficient oxygenation, and fends off disintegration for at least as long as the two hours I spent with it. It’s quite Teutonic in its austere solemnity, it’s very clearly riesling, and the picture in my mind while drinking it is that of a slightly unpolished metal sphere within a cube. It’s not an integrated wine, at least not yet (I have no experience with aging it, which is stupid as I’ve had plenty of opportunities), but there’s certainly potential; think young Austrian more than anything else, though it’s not that dense nor weighty. Is it good? Yes, it’s good. But it does need air. (9/11)

Gingrich

Red Newt Cellars 2007 Dry Riesling “Reserve” (Finger Lakes) – The petroleum factory called. They’d like their tank back. I want to like this, because the structure is so nervy and vibrant, but the wine is just buried in gasoline. A shame. (5/11)

She turned me into a riesling!

Red Newt Cellars 2009 Riesling (Finger Lakes) – There’s data on the back label! Let’s see what it says: 3.4% residual sugar, 8.7 g/l total/titratable acidity, pH 3.1, mking the wine medium-sweet on their helpful scale. Since sarcasm could easily be considered my baseline tone, let me issue a corrective: I kind of love this level of information, and wish that more wines with definitionally ambiguous sweetness levels would provide this or similar information. Alsace, I’m looking at you, with a sideways glance at Vouvray, certain Sancerrois...and we could keep going along these lines for a while.

Unfortunately, in this case I think information outpaces quality. There’s a froth-textured and dilute salinity that is, for me, characteristic of riesling that’s not developed enough…I use that word rather than “ripe” on purpose…to bring the grape’s natural precision to the fore. Thus, the sweetness doesn’t soften the impact of a sharp edge, as it does in better rieslings, it just hangs about in bored indifference. By the second glass, I’m equally bored. (5/11)

Can you hear me Paumanok-ing?

Paumanok 2009 Sauvignon Blanc (North Fork) – Pretty fair, though as with so many of this area’s wines I don’t know about the value proposition. Ripe sauvignon, a little pushed (the fruit is a touch over-concentrated and there’s a slight bite of tannin), but well within the boundaries. I couldn’t possibly say if this is representing terroir or not without a lot more experience. But it’s nice enough. (11/10)

Auld lang syne

Ommegang “Cup O Kyndnes” Scotch Ale (New York) – Heavy, as befits the category, but I’ve never had a domestic version of this style that I thought really captured the balanced weight of the original, and this is no exception. Sweet metal and armored stone fruit with a sandy finish. And, in case it needs stressing, quite boozy. (9/10)

Isn't it Peconic?

Peconic Bay Spirits “Signature” Grape Brandy “sono rinata” (New York) – Apparently merlot, and be warned that it’s a clearer, more grappa-like style than it is a deep, wood-aged style. Or rather, I wish someone had warned me. Because I don’t care for this at all. It tastes like corn, and the alcoholic bite is harsh and ungainly. (8/10)

Absinthe without leave

Delaware Phoenix Absinthe Superieure “Meadow of Love” (New York) – The herbal side of the licorice family, but not fully expressed as fennel, but rather more like one of those monk liqueurs (Chartreuse, etc.). Brittle in both flavor and spirit, with a broil of alcohol as a top note. Piercing. Impossible to ignore. (1/10)

Delaware Phoenix Absinthe Superieure “Walton Waters” (New York) – Waxed herbs and finely-balanced herb, licorice, and bitter fruit rind characteristics. Very long. Kinda brilliant, really. I greatly prefer this to the “Meadow of Love” bottling. (1/10)

Wölffer down

Wölffer Estate 2005 Cabernet Franc (The Hamptons) – Bell pepper soup with blueberries on top. Not an appealing combination. I’ve had the very, very, very occasional success from Long Island, but most of them have tasted like this (or overoaked versions thereof). At least this has the virtue of not being Hamptons-priced, as so many of its neighbors are, though at around $20 it’s still asking about twice what it’s worth. (4/09)

Et tu

Ithaca Beer Company “Brute” Golden Sour Ale (New York) – In the style of an authentic lambic, but dialed back from the dizzying flaws-as-attributes intensity of, say, Cantillon. It’s certainly sour, and bretty, and rounded by barrel-conditioning, but it’s been gentled just enough to act as a fine transitional stage between commercial lambics and the angrier sort. Frankly, it’s outstanding, and I’d never peg it as domestic. But now, the greed: while this beer is very good as-is, I’d be interested to see them try a kreik. (4/09)

Arnie

Palmer 2006 Pinot Blanc (North Fork) – Aromatically, this is quite enticing, showing ripe pear and vaguely citrusy notes with a little bit of spice and greengage plum. Unfortunately, the palate’s dominated by an off-putting synthetic quality. While there’s structural balance, it’s impossible to get past the plastic. A shame, because things were promising there for a while. (1/09)

That Ommegang of mine

Ommegang Abbey Ale (New York) – Sorta like listening to Dana Carvey do President (George H.W.) Bush; you can’t mistake what it represents, but it’s not really the same. I’m not sure what would help this beer be more like its Belgian inspiration, but I think the word “more” would be a start. (10/08)

Dodgers

Brooklyn “Local 1” Ale (New York) – Heavy Belgian-style spice-weight; Herbert’s “mélange” made drinkable, without the creepy fortune-telling. Like so many domestic versions of this style – I feel like I’ve written this before – it lacks complexity, though there’s so much power and swagger that it almost makes up for its subtler deficiencies. (9/08)

Until you come to...the North Fork in the road

Schneider 2005 Cabernet Franc “Le Breton” (North Fork) – The name is apt; while broad-shouldered and with the slightest bit of swagger, this nonetheless reminds me more of Loire franc, or perhaps satellite Bordeaux, than anything from the New World. It’s bigger and somewhat heavier, but doesn’t sacrifice the dark, scowling fruit lightened by crispness, nor the enticing leafiness, nor the significant black dirt element. A minor miracle: I’ve finally found a Long Island wine that I like. (I ask my bartender, “what’s the secret?” She responds, “just drink Schneider.” (5/08)