We are featuring the Thierry Véron Cave de la Bouquette Sancerre for $10 by-the-glass [btg] at Biwa. Guests seem to be enjoying  it.

My tasting note for the Biwa staff: classic typicité [a wine speaking of what it is and where it’s from, in this case a classic Sauv Blanc from the Loire]. Citrus [more on the grapefruit side of the spectrum], caraway seed and wet stones, medium-plus acid.  After the warm and atypical vintage of 2009, Sancerre is back to tasting like Sancerre. Nice.

From the new distributor-importer Petit Monde, great little portfolio of French wine.

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

A large gap in posts and posts to be provided less frequently only means one thing.  I am totally in the midst of studying for another turn at passing the Master Sommelier Diploma Examination, which I’ll sit for in early July, back in Texas. My life in Portland is working six nights a week: three at Noisette [French, fine dining] and three at Biwa [Izakaya, high volume, casual].  I enjoy the dichotomy between these two jobs, and I’m thankful for working only nights as my days are free to study.  My head’s down, tackling the material, spending more hours each day than I have in years past. This might all sound frenetic, but it’s oddly comforting [if not all too familiar]. I did have a great autumn break from the rigors, so I feel really good and lucid.

I’m also part of a weekly tasting group with some gifted somms. The last wine I blinded was this 1992 Jos. Christoffel, Jr. Ürziger Würzgarten Riesling Auslese from the Mosel.  Although I concluded properly on region, country and varietal, I TOTALLY missed the mark on vintage and sweetness level. The wine was super spritzy like a fresh wine, but deep in color like a white of age. I went down the wrong path and called it young Kabinett! Embarrassing, for sure, but a fine learning experience all the same. Thank you, Ole Thompson for presenting such a great wine!

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

I knew nothing about Shochu prior to joining the team at Biwa, but now have a thorough appreciation for it.  Shochu is made from a variety of base materials such as cereal grains, root vegetables, rice, sugar and molasses. While the production of artisanal Shochu in Japan is concentrated in the south, it is also made in Okinawa—called Awamori and considered a superior style—and Korea, called Soju. In fact, the number one selling distilled brand in the world is not Smirnoff or Bacardi, but Jinro from Korea. Above are my four favorites, list below in tasting notes 7, 8, 9 & 10.

Shochu’s uniqueness
All distillates are made from fermented liquids. This means that for grain and other starchy base materials, carbohydrates must be converted to sugar before fermentation begins. Shochu is unique compared to its European cousins insofar as the breakdown of the starch is completed by the same mold responsible for sake production, Koji (aspergillus oryzae). With the presence of sugar, fermentation begins, which brings us to another unique attribute for Shochu production. The beverage typically undergoes only one distillation, in comparison to the double pot still distillations of Single Malt Scotch whisky, Cognac, Calvados and the like, or the continuous distillations of vodka and gin. This means the base material [be it: sweet potato, rice, buckwheat, barley, etc.] has a great effect on the flavor of the final product.  Single-distillation also creates a beverage with a lower alcohol by volume [abv].  Any aficionados of drinking straight spirits should enjoy Shochu.  Here are my tasting notes on the ten artisanal Shochu we carry at Biwa to be enjoyed neat, on the rocks, or mixed with a little hot water.

1 Awa No Kaori, 20% abv [prefecture: Tokushima]
bouquet- lime , lemon oil, tangerine; palate- clean, light, tangy, no heat; made from molasses and sudachi lime

2 Kakushigura, 24% abv [prefecture: Kagoshima, Southern Japan]
bouquet- almost rum-like with butter, brine and burnt sugar; palate-unctuous, Kaffir lime, light vanilla, more reminiscent of tequila; single-distilled barley

3 Shiranami, pictured third from the left, 25% abv [prefecture: Kagoshima, Southern Japan]
bouquet- cereal grain, kitchen-cabinet-cupboard, corn chip, lime skin and pith; palate- expansive, potato/corn chip with lime, pithy bitter, slight heat, finishes with prune; single-distilled sweet potato [83%] and rice [17%]

4 Jougo, 24% abv [prefecture: Kagoshima, Southern Japan]
bouquet- lime oil, fresh linen, tangerine pith, green plum skin, rain leaf; palate- very unctuous, sweet-ish, smooth and clean with a little heat at the end; single-distilled sugar cane [60%] and rice [40%]

5 Iichiko, 25% abv [prefecture: Oita, Southern Japan]
bouquet- perfumey, grappa-like with toasted grain nuance; palate- rich and clean; single-distilled barley

6 Hakutake, 25% abv [prefecture: Kumamoto, Southern Japan]
bouquet- floral, sake-like, banana leaf; palate- very pretty, floral, perfumey with a long graceful finish; single-distilled rice

7 Ikkomon, 25% abv [prefecture: Kagoshima, Southern Japan]
bouquet- tequila-like, saline, floral; palate- Kaffir lime, Meyer lemon, salty, vanilla, long finish; single-distilled sweet potato

8 Kurokame, 25% abv [prefecture: Kagoshima, Southern Japan]
bouquet- tequila-like, floral, limey and briny; palate- sweet, rich, lime, brine, gardenia, prune; fermentation of sweet potato takes place in large porcelain pot, then single-distilled

9 Gankotsuoh, 25%abv [prefecture: Oita, Southern Japan]
bouquet- sake-like, banana leaf, floral, egg shell, persimmon; palate- pretty, light, soft and long; single-distilled rice, then matured in porcelain pots, stored in a cave

10 Towari, 25% abv [prefecture: Oita, Southern Japan]
bouquet- toasted grain, brine, potato skin, sprouts, perfume; palate- rich, soba noodle, lime, grass, carrot, yam; single-distilled buckwheat

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

Ah, delicious Chinon! Les Galuches 2009 from J-M Raffault is clear, day bright, solid ruby in color with a slight purple hue, has medium concentration, clear to light fuchsia rim variation, medium-plus viscosity with an ever so slight staining of the tears. The nose has moderate intensity and is youthful. The fruit spectrum represents tart red cherry, cranberry, tart blackberry. The non-fruits are green tea leaf, green peppercorn, black tea, spring foliage stem, fern leaf and a hint of yellow flowers. Oak’s not a factor in this wine, it’s rather neutral, but the minerals are a noticeable wet stone to dry gravel.

The wine is dry with medium-plus body and displays its youthfulness. The fruit is tart on the palate with a smidge of suppleness emerging. The non-fruit flavors are firmly in the pyrazine camp coupled to its dominant mineral profile. There is also a hint of underbrush, necco-wafer-candy-dustiness and black currant. The acid is high; tannins are an inside-cheek-gum grabbing medium-plus; the wine has 13% abv. A nice wine for $15 retail [Liner & Elsen].

Although these notes are mine, I enjoyed watching Erica nail this in blind tasting group this morning. By the time I got a chance to sink my teeth into it, the wine had been open for six hours with a half bottle air gap. This is a clear indication the wine will benefit from decanting.  Eat it with something meaty and fried!

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

One of my new favorites from Germany, this Schwarzbier, a black lager, looks mean and tastes clean. The color is opaque black with a quickly dissipating, light caramel head; the effervescence is high. The nose is hazelnut, roasted coffee bean, old maid popcorn kernel, dried orange peel, honey, copper and malt ball candy. On the tongue, it’s a bit of an anomaly as roasted flavors are married to a very refreshing, crisp lightness with a moderate 4.9% abv. In addition, the palate expands to include nuances of honeysuckle, bee pollen, and pecan shell. The beer is devoid of fruity flavors except the dried orange peel, which lightly permeates the nose and palate. The finish is smooth and long with notes of hazelnut and honeycomb. This is a session beer, if ever there was one!

Köstritzer has been making beer since 1543. Nice.

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

On sight, the Hubert Lapierre Moulin-à-Vent Cuvée Vieilles Vignes is day bright with medium concentration; the color is ruby red with a slight purple hue, displaying moderate-plus tears with barely a stain. The wine’s robe is watery to light fuchsia. The bouquet is youthful with moderate-plus intensity, offering ripe red cherry, ripe strawberry, cola and cherry compote. There’s a hint of white pepper and textbook granite [wet pavement] minerality with a smidge of cherry blossom.

The palate is delightful, rich and velvety, solidly medium-bodied, giving moderate to moderate-plus acidity and moderate to almost moderate-plus tannin. The red fruits and stony minerality come through with an added strawberry rhubarb pie essence emerging; the white pepper and cola notes remain.  This is a very sumptuous style of Beaujolais where the tannins are just a little higher than you’d expect and the acid’s just a touch lower.

The wine benefited from a decant and was enjoyed with Anne’s potato leek soup and root vegetable hash.

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine  

It has been over two decades since I’ve seen a real autumn. I’ve enjoyed walking out on the balcony each day to witness the changes along Broadway and the West Hills with OHSU in the distance.  Some days are more dramatic than others. Presented from over the last 40 days, the final pic shot this morning. Thank you, Portland.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

One of the appeals, if not a flat out benefit, of working at an izakaya is learning a completely new palate language.  My palate up until now has been rooted in Western, mainly French, culinary traditions, but it didn’t take long after starting at Biwa to realize Japanese vinegary is different than the French notion.

Learning might not exactly be the word I should use, but rather I’m assimilating to a new palate language. Moreover, I have resisted the temptation to go over-analytical or academic on understanding this new cuisine.  As this is not how anyone learns food. Japanese kids aren’t given a manual explaining how their food should smell and taste; therefore, I want the development of my palate language to be subtle, natural and unforced.  I also resist the temptation to think, “Oh, I got this” or “I understand this right away,” like neophytes to wine often do, mistaking their enthusiasm for experience or discernment.

So what is a palate language? It’s not really about words.  It’s more about picturing in my mind what Japanese cuisine [both food and beverage] feels like, making its essence a matter of fact or second nature as in socialization.  What’s more, I can see why Biwa is so busy. Guests dine at a very reasonable price point in a casual, yet intimate room and experience a new palate language, too.

What I have learned thus far
Pronounced food flavors and subtle drinks: It’s ironic that Japanese food [to a Western palate] should have so many pronounced flavors: salty, fermented, vinegary and soy, while Japanese drinks such as sake are very subtle.  If one looks at wine, the main drink accompaniment to better dining in the Western world, you’ll notice by comparison, it is not very subtle.  With its higher acid framework, wine cuts through flavors and gets noticed.  Or take shochu, the famous distillate of Southern Japan, this is a subtler drink than its Western cousins vodka, rum and gin. Shochu has a lower abv, which quietly presents its flavor profile.

Rice is sticky: The next thing I’ve noticed is the main starch, rice, is way stickier than the starches of Western cuisine [caveat: I’m not talking about starch as a plat principal, but as a condiment]. When enjoying Japanese food with rice, you’re introducing a stickier texture into the mix.  Even when I’m bussing tables, sticky rice is everywhere on the table, on the floor, on my hands and my clothes. It’s easy to see why it’s an integral part life. Overall, texture is very important in understanding Japanese food and drink. There’s palate weight and feel to the cuisine, which I’m just now starting to grasp, and I’m learning the impression of balance is different in Japanese cooking than its impression in Western cuisine.

Slurping is fun: The third thing, I’ve noticed, thus far, is Westerners cannot separate the cuisine from the manner in which it is eaten with chopsticks, and in the case of noodles, slurped. It’s part of the whole dining package and part of the fun. I can’t tell you how happy I am on a night off after having a couple of drinks, coming in to Biwa and slurping down a bowl of Ramen with Anne. And even though I suck at using chopsticks, it just feels right. Additionally, in Eastern cuisine, diners will pick up a bowl of broth and put the rim of the bowl directly on their mouths to eat. That’s awesome, not going to do that at Jean-Georges!

But other than learning a handful of things on Japanese cuisine, I’ve got a long ways to go. Kana has offered me the wine list to manage and curate, which I’m thrilled to do, but I didn’t want to begin until I started getting my palate language down a little. I’ll need to be able to switch back and forth between my refined Western palate and my developing Eastern palate. This is important when serving [mainly Western] guests: to know and recommend, you’d probably still enjoy a glass of wine with your pork belly, but most definitely, you would rather drink sake with saba nanbanzuke.

I’ve started preliminary sake vs. wine comparisons on my nights off. This night, the Bouvier Marsannay’s higher acid was excellent for fattiness of the shio-yaki saba [mackerel], but overly accentuated the salty characteristics of the dish. The sake flight was better suited to the fish.

On another night, I brought in a lower acid Marcel Deiss Pinot Gris. Its sweet framework fared well with some menu items, but again the good everyday sake Otokoyama really hit the mark with the majority of the dishes we ordered. I’m thinking a traditional Rioja Blanco is the next comparison I’ll make. 

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

I’ve only tasted Domaine Dupont’s cider in NYC. I am beyond happy to find it here in Portland; hopefully I can find their Calvados next.

The color is 24-carat yellow gold with a smidge of cloudiness and a pristine ultra-fine mousse. The bouquet is intense and complex: ginger, apple butter, quince paste, honey, baked pear, gardenia, brett, clove, and light vanilla. The demi-sec palate displays all the complexity of the nose adding lemon custard, grilled and caramelized peaches, and roasted pineapple. The abv is 6.9%.

One of the greatest ciders you’ll taste, served in a chalice at Bushwhacker Cider; $20 for the 750ml bottle. Split one with a friend; you’ll be glad you did. 

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine

A couple of days ago, I was bragging to my brother Joe about the dry autumn we’ve had this year in Portland and how even though I'm working, I feel like I'm on vacation still. We traded emails and texts; it was good to hear from him. We haven’t caught up since I left Texas. The very next day, just before work, the rain hit.  Not the light, almost invisible mist Portland seems to have constantly, not the torrential flood-producing downpours Texans get when rain finally hits either, but a medium to heavy-ish rain shower. I was ready: two new fenders on my new bike, rain pants, a sweet new Gore-Tex jacket I bought at Buffalo Exchange for $75.  Plus, it’s not like I live that far from work, two miles from Biwa. I put an extra pair of socks in my bag as was recommended to me and rode to work.

I came to find out my rain pants sort of suck, the jacket works marvelously, the lights on my bike are as important as my helmet, and that I should expect to change my socks as soon as I hit the door at work. All in all, not a bad initiation.

There’s a reason why Portland restaurant service is casual. Much of the staff of a restaurant are bike commuters or car-less. Many of the patrons are in fact as well. Half hour after I started my shift, two gentlemen in their early fifties came in all rain-geared out, fresh off their bikes, soaked on the outside, dry underneath; they hung up their protective layers and sat down to enjoy a meal.  Portland’s just a more casual “get it done” kind of city, the opposite of stuffy.  Sort of refreshing, if not just a little wet at times, too.

So, I was bragging about a dry autumn to my brother Joe the other day. He was bragging about the new Lamborghini Gallardo he just picked up. Nice.

Anthony Garcia
http://twitter.com/wineisdivine