So I realized I haven’t posted much in way of wine reviews lately. Allow me to make ammends. A week ago or so, I went to a travelling show for Alsace and the Rhone Valley. I don’t know why they travelled together. Or who the hell it was that put the whole thing on (SopexaUSA??? sounds more like soap.). Tastings like this are always a gamble.

You have wineries that either have representation in your state with a distributor, or are looking for representation. If a winery doesn’t have a distributor, they tend to focus on only those tasters who are distributors. Mais, pardon, je sais un homme qui sait un homme. Je peux vous aider…M’excuser?… Aw, forget it. He’s not listening. He deserves to get picked up by the Gallo distributor, then. In this business, you never know where someone will be next, who they know now, what info they can give you. It pays to be nice. Bees…honey…that whole thing.

If the winery does have a distributor, then the charming french guy or gal probably will skip your city and you’re stuck talking to someone local that you already know. Not that they aren’t nice. But it’s Monday, on your own time and your own dime, and you’re going to France this fall, and you want to meet people who also live in France that might hook a sister up. So to speak. Hypothetically.

You also experience the “hard sell,” which I became immune to in Chicago, and it is hopelessly out of place in Seattle. But we’re sooooo nice and passive aggresive here, waiting patiently, listening to the spiel while the taste of wine is withheld. Oh, I don’t think so. This tactic is bunk. Wine professionals usually hit tastings before work or on their day off. You want to make it easy for us, respect our time. You aren’t doing me a favor, pouring me your wine. I’M DOING YOU A FAVOR, if I like it and choose to buy it–hell, just being here. Remember that. I will respectfully listen, while I taste.

This is something that really freaks me out about the wine business. I used to get unannounced visits all the time, mostly by big corporations, who just knew that I simply must drop everything to taste the new vintage of Caymus/Shamus/Opus/Pocus. Uh. No. I. Don’t. And pardon you for interrupting. This is reason #413 of why the wine business gets away with shit because they sell something with alcohol in it. And I blame the dingleberry buyers who make such a fetish of wine as to let these carrots be dangled in front of them. Like getting all caught up by the pusher man, it is. (how many mixed metaphors is that?)

The other reason I love going to these big tastings, you get to see people from all of the wine distributors. Which can be annoying when everyone wants to chat, but mainly it’s cool, like a mini reunion. I love it when people ask me what I’m doing now, and I get to reply with a simple, “nuthin, just writting my blog.” And I love meeting new people, who ask about my name tag, and telling them that The Wine Offensive is a blog. You should see their eyes glaze over. It’s awesome. Complete and utter non-comprehension mostly. I’m reminded that I am a micro-niche inside of a niche. Keeps me honest. Anyhoo, I’ll start with the best:

Louis Sipp of Alsace - Who has these wines? Nobody in this state. I could not walk away from this table. This was the best colection of Alsace wine I’ve tasted in quite a while. I don’t judge an Alsace winery on its fancy pants Grand Cru, I judge it on its single varietal offerings, “the basics.” The time and effort that went into the basics of the Sipp portfolio are commendable. All from the 2004 vintage, this winery obviously had the patience to let the grapes’ complexity catch up with the easy ripeness that marks this vintage in France.

Pinot Blanc was all ripe fruit, with a hint of the tropical, but lean and mean with that clean, just rained on, stoney quality I want from this grape, in this place, with a quenching of acidity. I expect something that goes with vegetable quiche at lunch, cheese after work, or the deck chair on the patio. Not as tropical, the fruit on the Pinot Gris reminds me of peaches not ready for picking, with that sweetness to the smell that is almost, but not quite, matched on the tongue. Coats the mouth, but manages fair acidity. A model example.

The Riesling had just a vague hint of flowers, on the outer edge of its spicy, nectarine flavor and finished totally dry. Most times, a Gewurztraminer that’s this clingy, combined with the whole roses thing, turns me off faster than a shirtless Alec Baldwin. But Sipp’s Gewurztraminer was fair and balanced, like 3 fresh rose petals in a bowl of raspberry/apricot jam. It was slightly sweet.

Domaine Albert Mann (imported my Weygandt-Metzler) - I’ve always liked these wines, but this was a classic case of what the wrong person can do for the best wine. Their representative looked bored to be there, annoyed to have to interrupt a conversation with a fellow native Austrian in order to pour. This other buyer also kept punctuating all of his sentences with the phrase, “as a sommelier…” Good grief. Yes, he knows this wine would go good with foie gras, you moron. Alsace is one of the liver captials of France. Geesh, Horsechack, how embarrassing.

Pinot Blanc: Raw almonds, definitely. And apples, red ones. This wine had a savory streak, like some Italians get. Tangy and dry, but getting a bit up there in price. (compared to the aforementioned Italians)

My favorite Mann wine was the Pinot Gris Hengst Grand Cru, which reeked lovingly of Jordan almonds and frangipan tart, coated the tongue softly, and shined with a zing fo acidity.

Pierre Sparr et Ses Fils (imported by W.J. Deutsch & Sons) - This is the Alsace wine most likely to appear in a store near you. Their Alsace One is a blend of all of the regions noble white grapes and tastes full, vibrant, and a teeny bit sweet. A great deal for $11 and tasty with cured meats and antipasti. I always like their Cremant d’Alsace as a Prosecco alternative, but not at over $15 a bottle. And it’s wholesale price is $12.59 in this state. That’s four bucks too high. Yeah, yeah, yeah…Euro this, rate that. I don’t care. It’s about what I’m willing to pay.

In general, I was sad about a few of the average price points for several categories. For example, a Cotes du Rhone should be $9 to $15, depending on pedigree and quality. If it can claim the name of an actual village, maybe as much as $18. But I saw prices upwards of $25. I’m not Chicken Little when I say that the prices are climbing. Like the bubbly above. Granted, Washington has a three tier system, and everyone has to get paid. But it sure does make a case for the direct import. And it doesn’t serve the customers in this state at all.