It is a question I ask myself anytime I meet someone new and brilliant. It is a question I couldn’t stop asking myself over two separate dinners at Frasca and Twelve with Matthew Cain, founder of Yellow + Blue, a wine label that is created with the concept that good wine can come in cleaner packaging. Cain has a long history in the wine industry. Most notably before Y+B, he worked alongside Kermit Lynch for nearly a decade. After one particular trip across seas, he cleared his head and heard his calling. It came to fruition upon return when he read an article on alternative wine packaging. Everyone else around the world was waking up and going ‘green’. Why in so many states are so many boxed wines and those in Tetra Pak so mediocre? Can we not have good 100% organic wine, be better to the earth and save some money all at the same time? Simple. But brilliant.

As I started to tell him how great it was to have a glass-less wine that I could whole-heartedly recommend to campers, concert-goers and park dwellers, when he kinda laughed. That actually never crossed his mind at the beginning. But within a few months of its release, it was clear that this was a major, underserved demographic. Why should outdoor activities compromise quality? Why should the fact that is less expensive have to mean that it will lack any sort of complexity and character? I explained to him that in a state like Colorado, this product has been a God-send. Intentional or not, these alternative products are sold to serious wine drinkers only in times that force them to walk away from the bottle—times that do not allow glass in the picture. Y+B has the ability to really change these consumers’ perspectives. In the meantime, those who already get it and subscribe to wine of any race, shape or size now have something a little more interesting to sip!

What struck me about Cain was his genuine, humble nature. He was soft-spoken and had a very serious, intense demeanor, but not so much that you couldn’t strike up conversation with ease. He was driven, focused, and had all the makings of a natural born entrepreneur. His confidence was effortlessly transparent during conversation—a comfortable confidence. It was contagious, as I was inspired to start about nine different businesses over the course of a two-hour discussion. That energy is the kind that makes selling his wine even easier. Without knowing him at all, you can tell in one taste that these wines were selected and shaped by someone with pride and integrity.

Y+B uses Tetra Pak to contain their wine. At a liter, you get about 30% more wine than a standard 750 ml bottle. With the packaging, you are looking at 93% wine and only 7% packaging, whereas standard glass wine packages are closer to 50/50. Y+B takes everything into consideration: production, materials, gas, transport, printing, pesticides, chemicals… According to Dr. Tyler Colman (also known as Dr. Vino), Y+B produces about 54% less of a carbon footprint than the average wine production. A lot of people don’t think about it, but sheer weight and materials that are involved with wine production, shipment and marketing make it one of the more environmentally straining industries.*

I could go on with statistics and figures, but that’s a little more involved than this entry wants to get. At the end of the day, the story is this: we all know alternative packaging is better for the earth. We all know that if we want good wine, our chances for a great box wine is slim (at least in the state of Colorado). If this all sounds familiar, go to your local shop and ask for Y+B–particularly the Torrontes and the Select Red. They distribute to over 40 states, so there is a good chance if your store doesn’t have it, they can get it!

Drinking for a good cause doesn’t have to suck.

*All facts and figures here are found on their website: http://www.ybwines.com/default.asp

What I found most interesting this year was that out of 13 bottles, we only had 2 reds. Bubbles, oxidized wines, old whites and fortifieds were coincidentally what all us geeks wanted to play with this year–it is a trend toward whites that I have been observing this whole last year. I am curious as to what that’s all about. I thought it was just me, but it most certainly is not.

I always love to give a little play-by-play to those who are curious. So here you are, my friends. Le menu avec les vins:

Puff Pastry, Fava, Asparagus, Mushroom-Meunster Cream, Baby Shoots

’93 Nikolaihof Vinothek GV & a ’06 Helfrich Grand Cru Steinklotz Riesling

My eyes feasted on this first course as much as my tongue–the first ever in the history of WGD to be 100% vegetarian. An absolute cinch with the ’93 Nikolaihof Gruner Veltliner, this garden fresh starter was met with remarkable acidity and depth. This defined a truly sensational pairing, where both the food and its wine were made even more incredible when fused together. It was though my mouth became a magnifying glass. Such bliss.

The Riesling was outstanding. More than anything, it held its own with a rather tricky dish when one think of the vegetal compounds that can mess with wine. It was not enhanced, perhaps… but more importantly, it was not hurt by the dish. It was exquisite from the first taste to the last.

Butter Poached Lobster, English Pea Puree

1990 Laurent Perrier Grand Siecle Alexandria Rose

It is always such a treat to sip on old bubbles, especially when it is as lovely as the Grand Siecle. A honeyed salmon hue, the bubbles were far from gone. Tiny and fierce, those bubbles raced to the surface with awe-inspiring persistence.

                                         Garlic Pork Sausage, Flageolets, Chicory                                                                                                

                                ‘09 Clos Cibonne Tibouren Cotes de Provence                     ‘                                                 ’98 San Lorenzo Verdicchio 

Holding the hyperbole, this was still one of the best plates of pork and beans I have ever tasted. This homemade sausage brought out a little fruit that was silent on its own in the legendary Tibouren– a grape that inspired Andre Roux to rip up the Mourvedre in the ’30′s for Tibouren’s natural place in Provence. It had geek all over it. Very cool wine. I could stare at that playful label all day long. The ’98 Verdicchio was one of my contributions. Man, that was cool. This wine spends 9 years on its lees in steel and cement, then an additional year in the bottle. One might be shocked it sees no wood. Picked only in the best years from vines that bear a couple bunches of fruit, this wine only amounts to 2700 bottles. We won’t see it again until 2001 is released… in a couple years.

Colorado Rack of Lamb, Grains, Spring Vegetables, Mache, Natural Jus

’04 Ciacci Piccolomini d’Aragona Brunello di Montalcino & ’82 Borgogno Barolo Riserva

Need I say much? This lamb was cooked to perfection. The Brunello was a bit young–but honestly, who cares. It was pretty lip-smacking with its sexy strength. The Barolo? I am biased, see… That is my birth vintage. I am quite proud of that fact. I have been lucky to try this one before about a year ago. Both times have been remarkably different, but both so very good. It reminds me that wine is very much a living, evolving thing. Unpredictable and multifaceted.

Les Fromages

A.E. Dor Pineau des Charentes 50 year

Stuffed to the brim and aching, I couldn’t resist the assortment of cheese to mop up a beauty of a fortified he had on the table. We began to open a couple others as cheese turned into strawberry crepes. We try a 2004 Piazzano Vin Santo, a 2006 Tre Monti Casa Lola Passito from Emilia Romagna and finally a ’92 Scheurebe from Lingenfleder in the Pfalz. Scheurebe, by the way, is the illegitamate cross of Riesling with some unknown varietal, according to a fellow geek. Very technical.

We are all a little starry-eyed at this point, but we don’t care. The name of the game is total, ridiculous indulgence for one night a year. And what a way to do it.

Every now and again, a wild hair can go a long way. That is precisely how this winery started—a crazy, far-flung notion that perhaps he had what it takes to make wine in a way no one really had in Washington. He wanted to make it, well, a little more Euro. By that, I mean that he wanted to put terroir and the variety itself up on a pedestal, not obscuring its sensational self with filtration or gobs of oak. And so he did, along with buddy Darryn O’Shea who has recently left to take on his own new adventure.

A native born Napa boy, Scarborough recalls moving to Washington in order to spread his wings. He was a full time accidental bartender/beverage manager at a French restaurant while working full time as a distributor as well when it occurred to him that he had a few more hours in his day to take on winemaking. Who needs sleep? Overrated when you are a young, ambitious buck! After a recent visit back home, he was disappointed with the vogue ‘hang time’ and new oak that sat between him and the wine. However, he was inspired to give winemaking a try. All his readings of Cornas and Bordeaux had him thinking there was a need for something a little different in the Evergreen state.

And so, it began with a garage. And it still goes on in a garage of sorts. He picks his plots with utmost scrutiny. As he said, land of his own would be a very sweet thing… but it ain’t cheap. Not every day do I come across garagistes with such passion and true talent as Scarborough. But man, he has it. The following are a few sips from that night…

2009 Desolation Chardonnay

If you think you know domestic Chardonnay, you will need to recalibrate your perception. Herein lies a wine that saw ½  used oak, ½ stainless steel for fermentation then reunited in used barrel on contact with their lees for 18 months. Racked only twice, this wine gains its rich bodice from that lees intervention that occurs. No malo—something Scarborough is quite quick and proud to point out. The balance is exquisite. Truly silk on the palate.

2009 Midnight ‘MSG’

They like to kid about the normally spelled GSM (Grenache, Syrah, Mourvedre) blend that goes into this red. I have to say. I have had many from both Washington and California. But not all are as memorable as this one. Harvested from young, rocky vineyards in Yakima Valley, this wine is a combination of 40% Mourvedre (giving it some beautiful aromatics of crushed rose, blueberries and smoked game), 40% Grenache (providing some heat, tart cranberries and rich ripe cherries and raspberry), and 20% Syrah (a nice touch to give it a little structure and presence across the board along with some distinctive notes of black pepper). While were having this wine, he discussed the importance of barrel integrity—how he meticulously tests each one after every racking. He gets to know them very well—as well as the wine. This is a detail that is often overlooked but critical in Scarborough’s opinion.

2009 Royal

A blend of Merlot (32%), Cabernet Franc (25%), Cab Sauv (24%) and Petite Verdot (19%), this blend is built to make you swoon. At least, it got me to that night. Deep plummy notes and cocoa hug the core, but interlaced are dark petaled floral tones and red, ripe fruit. It is an easy wine, but not overly simple. Scarborough feels it is best out of the gate, whereas some others need a little time to come out of their shell. I would have to agree that of the lineup, this was the chattiest that evening. A crowd pleaser without being compromising in character or elegance.

2009 Main Event

This one is made to age…and impress. For the big red drinker in your life, this is how you introduce them to Scarborough and his style of winemaking. For although it was the heaviest hitter of the evening, this red by no means crosses the line that so easily turns these hefty boys into flabby, uninteresting men. A blend of Cabernet Sauvignon (76%), Merlot (16%) and Petite Verdot (8%), Scarborough says if the Royal was his ‘Right Bank’ red, then this would be his ‘Left Bank’ alternative. I have always gravitated towards the right, so I must admit, I was a little more into the Royal. That’s how it’s supposed to be, though. Ask me to retry these in 5 years, and I bet I go the other direction.

But honestly? It was the Chardonnay and MSG really won me over. At least that night.

Thankfully, nutty notions such as Sacrborough’s get our country to move forward with creative, dynamic and diverse winemaking. Don’t get me wrong, there is a time and a place for a big, fruity oak bombs of wine (I think?). But they verge on all being clones of one another. One cannot discern if the wine is Central Coast or Mendocino, St. Helena or Walla Walla. And that’s a problem. What’s the point in the end? The most resonant thing Scarborough said that night was this: “I want to taste what the vineyard and vintage will do from year to year.” Take the good with the bad—that is life and that truly is the meaning of bottling a vintage.

Some people like to tease me that I am a Francophile. Truth is, I derive as much pleasure from wines like those of Scarborough, as I do those across the pond. The common denominator is that I can smell a sense of place…and passion. It is that personality I remember that makes an impression on me. The fact that there might be more in Europe at this point is just how it is. But damn, I get excited when I can discover how Washington, California and Oregon truly ‘taste’ through thoughtful wines like Scarborough’s.

And so, this time it was Napa.

In the two seminars I attended, I was able to taste through an array of grapes and sub-regions within Napa. From the floor to the high points of Spring Mountain, we tasted the difference a stone’s throw makes in the land of milk and honey.

Bright and early, it began with a wine & cheese seminar–without a doubt one of my favorite seminars they put on if you think to go next Spring. Whereas many tasting seminars expose you to tons of components and flavors, making it difficult to discern a direct connect between elements, this tasting is just you, the wine and the cheese. The influence of one on the other compounded by winemakers there discussing their viticultural and vinification techniques on each particular wine while a cheese expert does the same for each selection really allows you to sit and get to know your tastebuds in depth.

We tasted through a Flora Springs Sauvignon Blanc with a classic chèvre, a Chardonnay from Keenan with a Triple Creme, a rose from Bouchaine with some salty year old Manchego (an excellent pairing, as the wine really had some Spanish rosado flare), a hearty Bouchaine Syrah, a Keenan Zinfandel and a Cabernet paired with a blue. The most charming red we saw had to be the Flora Springs Sangiovese. Had I been blinded, I may have gone Tuscan, but that ripe forward fruit really is Cali’s thing. The most stunning and surprising red I tasted was Keenan’s Zin. It had the finesse, balance and complexity to force me to throw everything I thought I felt about Zin out the window. I thanked him for that. I come across people daily that get fixated on hating particular wines or grapes (Merlot and Riesling come to mind immediately). There are good versions of just about everything out there! Or, I should say, a version that you are more accustom to liking. That’s what I learned Saturday morning. I was not much different. Even I can get a little judgey. This wine reminded me to just keep an open palate…

The next seminar was a luncheon I had been excited to sit in on for weeks. Chef Soa Davies from New York’s Le Bernardin was there to lead each exquisite course. And so, below is a synopsis of each memorable bite…

#1 ’10 Robert Sinskey Abraxas: sashimi-style salmon, green apple, jalapeño cream sauce, micro green salad

When Sinskey took the floor, he kind of lit up the room. Here he was in a nice flannel shirt, thick black frames, and white hair. He had an air about him. A confident yet humble presence. A calm demeanor. A kind smile. His success has come from hard work, patience and a very calculated intention. I realized this when he spoke.

His Abraxas, named for the Egyptian god whose letters stood for the 365 days in a year.  In the same way, each day that went into this wine was weighted and meaningful. He pulls from four Alsatian varietals: Gewürztraminer, Riesling, Pinot Gris and Blanc–an ode to his wife in a way, though both are fond lovers of this French region. His fear was that Napa might be too warm to grow these grapes independently, when it occurred to him, he didn’t have to. Though harvested and fermented separately, they share a bottle and meld together beautifully. Faint orange blossom on the nose, lime zest on the palate. Bone dry. Sensational white. It was good with the salmon, but slightly too dry perhaps for the heat. It kicked up a lot of citrus on the palate.

#2 ’09 Chateau Montelena Chardonnay: Caramelized Endive, Caramelized spicy shrimp, bouillabaisse

The winery that helped put Napa on the map in a big way back in 1976 when their Chardonnay took gold at the Judgement of Paris tasting against some of the finest burgundies in the world, Chateau Montelena was an incredible addition to this event. Vineyard manager Dave Vella has been at the winery since the early ‘80s keeping it honest and consistent. Even in the height of buttery oaky blockbusters, they have chosen to remain true to their style. This wine shined with the dish, complimenting its richness and inherent acidity, elevating notes of lemon curd, pineapple and caramel.

#3 ’08 Robert Sinskey 3 Amigos Pinot Noir: Roots Vegetables

This was my favorite course hands down. The flavors Davies teased from these roots had me liking parsnip (and that never happens). Though earthy veggies seem like a logical match for lighter pinot, I didn’t realize just how incredible they could be. The carrot lit up the spices, the parsnip pulled out a creamy texture to the wine, and the beets turned up the volume when it came to that earthy, cherried sandalwood one seeks in a Cali Pinot. It is a grape that mesmerizes but is possibly the hardest to articulate. Sinskey likens it to a marriage… you never quite figure your partner out, but they will always have you happily guessing.

#4 ’09 VGS Chateau Potelle The Illegitimate Red: Chicken deboned and cured, herbs

Jean-Noel is perhaps the most fascinating winemaker I have ever met! He stands today with one kidney and one lung. He recently climbed Annapurna. He is French. Incredibly French. But he absolutely LOVES California wine. Not long after the 1976 Paris Tasting, while he was working as a critic in Bordeaux, sniffing around to be sure quality was up to standards, he was sent on assignment to America as a spy of sorts. He was to report back what they were up to in Napa. As he says, he called them and stated simply, “It’s good. I stay!”

Illegitimate is a throw-back to his French roots, when you couldn’t mix your Bordeaux grapes with your Rhones and slipping in a varietal that wasn’t French might have you arrested! He is exploring the wild west attitude of blending with this red, combining Cab, Merlot, Syrah and Zin. On the nose, Syrah wins with its peppery, floral, wow factor. On the palate the Cab fights to dominate. It is a fun wine, intriguing and bold.

#5 09 VGS Chateau Potelle Zinfandel: Braised short-rib, pickled onions

For too long, Jean-Noel feels Zin has been treated as a second class citizen. I think he said this about five times. Insisting on its relevance, he has dedicated himself to making some incredible, food-worthy wines of the Zinfandel variety. Though Croatian-born, this grape has become, in many ways, the ‘American’ red. Here it gained recognition, much like the French-born Malbec in Mendoza. Just before we were left to enjoy the spot on pairing, his final words were, “If you like it, I was responsible. If you don’t, you have bad taste.” He was such a treat with his thick French accent and smiling eyes.

#6 ’09 Chateau Montelena Cabernet Sauvignon: Bittersweet chocolate mousse, sea salt, caramel puff, brandied cherries, ice cream

In Soa’s words, to pair a dry acid Cabernet with such a decadent dessert, it was the brandied cherries that for her bridged the two worlds. I was impressed, I admit. No offensive, bitter flavors arose. It was smooth and enticing. More than anything, surprising and bold. Were I to have this heavenly dessert again, I think I would reach for a tawny port, however, to really elevate the caramel undertones, play with the saltiness and magnify the mousse.

Two Cabernets out of twelve wines. That’s it. That’s Napa. With every passing year, innovative folks and adventurous vignerons see the potential beyond Cabernet in this exquisite region. Don’t get me wrong. I just sipped through a vertical of Mondavi Reserve last year form 1991-1996, and they are nothing short of breathtaking right at this very moment. Those age, man. They have guts. But tasting everything from Sangiovese to Alsatian blends, I was convinced there is so much more to wow the world from this corner of the world.

Keep an eye out just after Christmas for next year’s lineup. There are a number of events and seminars that range in price. Whether a wine newbie or a wine nerd, you are certain to learn something new with every sip.

Out of habit, my first years of college had me reaching for a huge cart at the store, as though I were feeding an army. But with time, and a stint living in New York City, I slowly changed my ways, as did the world around me, it seemed. Hand baskets became vogue, as did shopping only for what you needed for the next 48 hours. Fresh, local and artisinal is the way now. And while it is certainly healthier, it seems, my pocketbook is happier, too. I don’t waste so much in the pantry waiting for the next Depression.

This got me thinking about wine. How often, like me, do you find yourself pouring excess wine down the drain. At once berating yourself for the vino abuse, whilst simultaneously a little proud your restraint has resulted in less fuzzy morning conditions? Or perhaps it is merely a reflection of the A.D.D. we all seem to share these days thanks to the internet, HD TV and video games, resulting in several half-opened wines due to a certain meal, mood or time of day. Whatever the reason, I hate knowing that wine was wasted.

That’s why I am growing more fond of the half-bottle. These 375 ml of goodness are perfect for so many reasons. My love for them really began in New York. People might grab a half of bubbles just to start out a celebration without a full commitment to a bottle. Maybe it was for a quick slurp in the cab ride on the way to an event. Others just needed a dab for a dish as they sipped on the rest while cooking.

When I am by myself for dinner, it forces me to not even think about going beyond 2 glasses–a decision that will undoubtedly have me waking up at 3 in the morning like clockwork (what the heck? early onset menopause?). Or, when I am with my guy, we can have a first course with white and our main course with red. It allows real geeks to try a couple wines with a dish just to see how different varietals pair.

Another great reason for buying half bottles, you can taste a wine that might typically cost you a day’s pay at nearly half the price. This is an excellent way to try Burgundies, Bordeaux and Barolos from a variety of subregions and producers that would otherwise be extremely difficult to afford with any regularity. With Christmas dinner, for example, we had a 2000 Lopez de Heredia Tondonia Reserva for only $25 (regularly $45 for the 750 ml) just to have another option on the table that was interesting with goose. It showed deepened notes of caramelization, sandalwood and cherry tobacco.

Getting impatient for that 07 Chateauneuf du Pape? Grab a half bottle. They age faster and are starting to drink beautifully. I just had a Lucien Barrot CdP for only $15 that was outstanding for the dollar! Same with the 07 rhone style Cigare Volant by Bonny Doon–an absolute gem right now in the half. The full is damn fine…but a baby. Friends don’t let friends commit infanticide.

There are dozens of other reasons a half is ideal: picnics, camping, stocking stuffers, they are cute, great candle holders, perfect for olive oils, homemade dressings and balsamic. 375′s are a great way to explore a world of wine and half the price.

At my shop, here is a short list of what you can stock up on. For the months of February & March, resolve to learn more via 375s at 5% off a cute little bottle. Build a little 6 pack, and you will get 10% off!

2009 Perez Cruz Cabernet (Chile)- $7

2009 Roger Champault Sancerre (France)- $14

2002 Lopez de Heredia Cubillo Rioja (Spain)- $18

2007 Lucien Barrot Chateauneuf du Pape (France)- $15

2010 Kim Crawford Sauvignon Blanc (New Zealand)- $9

2010 Alberti 154 Malbec (Argentina)- $9

2007 Bonny Doon Cigare Volant (California)- $21

2007 Cargisacchi Pinot Noir (California)- $20

2008 Hitching Post Pinot Noir (California)- $20

NV Chartogne-Taillet Champagne 1er Cru (France)- $29

NV Gruet Rose & Blancs des Noirs (New Mexico)- $9

2008 Hurricane Ridge Merlot (Washington)-$13

2008 Selbach-Oster Riesling Kabinett (Germany)- $14

2008 Raspail Ay Gigondas (France)- $20

Aboard the Bernina Express...

Just a couple hours ago, after a most unwritable journey down the Alps of Engadin (St. Moritz) on the Bernina Express into the Italian border town of Torino, Jonathan and I strolled our suitcases about a half mile or so from the station to a little restaurant, La Botte, where we were recommended to eat just next to the grand Basilica della Madonna. Here, we would find the ‘tipico’ food from the region, their pasta specialty called pizzoccheri as well as their dried, thin meat called bresaola. A sucker for regional dishes, we were there as soon as our feet hit the Tirano ground. La Botte sadly was closed. But we went to the restaurant next door which seemed promising, Albergo Altavilla. There we saw the travelers who were on board with us down the slope. They were from northern Illinois. Jonathan called that one within 12 seconds of a sharing a panoramic view car with them on the train. He called them ‘my people’. I laughed, because they were very much like me: chatty (I swear, they couldn’t let 2 seconds pass in silence), jolly and hypochondriatic (if that’s even a word). Go ahead and listen to someone in and around northern Illinois or southern Wisconsin just once. With age, we talk about our bodies, illnesses and diseases more each year. We can diagnose better than any doctor around and suggest medicine for it as well. After a couple hours of listening to walleye fishing stories and Barbara’s inevitable looming divorce (with the obligatory ‘I hate to gossip, but…’), we had much fun imitating on the walk to lunch.

The famous Brusio Viaduct.

We sat down at Albergo Altavilla and ordered the 4-course regional lunch, which would give us our pizzocheri noodles and bresaola (like beef prosciutto). We overheard the midwesterners order pizza, extremely disappointed and shocked to hear that these (northern) Italians hadn’t caught on to what made their country such a great hit. Alas, they ordered regular pasta with red sauce–a safe alternative.

Our demi-bottle of Valtellina Nebbiolo, a wonderfully silky textured, fruity red (nothing at all like Piemonte’s version) seemed a perfect choice with what was to come. We had just seen some vineyards outside town, so the choice was a no brainer (not that there were many more to be honest). We dug into the first course: Chiscioi Tiranesi con Cicoria, a kind of fried breaded cheese patty with a side salad. There were three of them. I wolfed down two in a matter of seconds. I was starving. Meanwhile, I noticed my partner clear his throat and get that look in his eye.

‘What’s wrong?’ I ask with trepidation…

‘Nothing… I think.’ He clears his throat again, heavy in thought.

‘?’

‘Well,’ he explains, “There may be a little buckwheat in this breading. Probably not, but…My tongue is starting to tingle…”

See, we are both quite allergic to the black, deadly flour. I begin to panic as I look down and see my near demolished plate. We frantically google ‘Tirano buckwheat food’ and there it is. Countless sights discussing this region’s famous Alpine dishes, such as pizzoccheri and chiscioi, made with hearty, buckwheat flour: ‘For hardcore buckwheat lovers ONLY!’

Shit.

First he goes to, well, rid himself of the infestation in the bathroom before it gets too bad. Then it is my turn. We cancel our order for lethal pizzoccheri and opt instead for plain, potato gnocchi with red sauce, a safe choice. The staff was wonderful and very responsive, confirming that yes indeed there is a lot of buckwheat in their cuisine and of course they would accommodate.

My throat is still suffering from the experience, the black flour having penetrated its sides and swollen it within minutes. We were so fortunate he called it so soon. Even as I write this, I can scarcely swallow well. It is the only allergy I have that is so severe. I break into hives, fall asleep, swell up. And Jonathan is arguably worse. A strange star-crossed syndrome we both somehow share.

Death on a platter.

Our highly anticipated lunch became sparkling water, Benadryl  and gnocchi, followed by a hazy train ride to Milan. But even with that, we found a way to laugh about our high maintenance, wussy allergies, complete with a backdrop of beautiful lake Como.

We spend our last full day here in St. Moritz exploring a new area for nordic skiing: Val Roseg in and around Pontresina (only about 5 min drive from St. Moritz in the next town over). This 14k trail is a slow, steady climb to a restaurant in the middle of nowhere Morteratch (its isolation making me wonder at the prefix of that name)…

It is my third day cross-country skiing in a row. It is my third day cross-country skiing…ever. In a word (or three), I am sore. Reaching the restaurant is like climbing a fourteener. My mind is in overdrive coaxing one foot in front of the next. When I sit down to order, I realize I am famished. I have a salad and bolognese with a glass of cannonau (aka grenache) from Sardinia. It tastes just like my aunt’s spaghetti we used to have on summer nights in northwoods Wisconsin. It is soothing and nostalgic. Free of frills or pretense. An unassuming bite in the middle of the mountains.

I feel lucky. So damn lucky sometimes.

I feel even luckier as I start the descent. Sure, it involves a few tumbly falls. They don’t call me ‘Crashley’ for nothing. But it is downhill. It takes a third of the time as the ascent. I am relieved and tired.

random abandoned house along the way...

We hop on a bus that winds up taking us through every last town that side of St. Moritz then back again to where we got on forty-five minutes earlier. Only then does it go on to our final destination forty-five more minutes (or 5 miles) further. To say Jonathan and I were a wee bit over it by the time we got back is a slight understatement. But the sauna and warm tub (not so much ‘hot’) feels all the better.

As we shift our peepers away from what has to be the 8th geriatric penis in 24 hours, we laugh silently with our eyes at the contrast as a tall, hot German (Swiss?) in a string bikini slips into the tub. I turn to my partner and say, “It’s never the ones you want to undress, eh?” We migrate to the sauna for a final fry, when German babe follows five minutes later. Bikini-less.

I have never been in a room with a significant other and a naked person of the opposite sex, let alone with my fiancee and a young woman that happens to have killer abs, a tight butt and perky boobs. I wonder at this moment if it is super awkward for him. I almost want to laugh out loud as we carry on with our discussion of dinner and tomorrow’s events. But I refrain and ignore the rather sexy elephant in our sizzling hot room. Get over it, I tell myself–it’s Europe. But still… you are talking to someone who used to change in the bathroom stall in high school (in my underwear for God’s sake) and never, ever been to so much as a topless beach. What a prude.

We make our way back to the room, shower and snuggle in for some down time before dinner in an hour or so. And I think to myself, as he lays here beside me now taking a nap… what a perfect gentleman.

Oh these traveling moments. Priceless.

It began with a horrid transatlantic flight, where babies were screaming, a fifteen pound bag fell on my head, the earphones were blasting to a high volume every 45 min or so to be sure I was sufficiently damaged by arrival and a couple sleeping pills that not only failed at their only purpose in life but  rather left me extremely anxious searching for the nearest exit when at once I remembered I was 5 miles high for the next seven hours. Tap, tap, tap…

Two hours of sleep and a transfer in London, I arrived in Milan a sight to sore eyes. But I could care less. There is no amount of awful travel that will keep me from an adventure. Really, it wouldn’t feel as gratifying if it were so easy. Right?

We hit up one of Jonathan’s favorite Italian restaurants the first night: Dal Bolognese. It was right next door to our hotel: Principe di Savoia. Walking in, you might have thought it wasn’t such a brilliant find. We were there alone in an overstaffed restaurant. Music was nonexistent. The waiters watched like hawks for our next move. ‘You ready is order?’ ‘You need a water?’ ‘You are have question?’ Yeesh. I was paranoid while eating my caprese to use the funny looking balsamic vinegar pourer-thingy for fear I would pour it incorrectly or too much… and they would see it and correct this ugly american.The caprese was mediocre at best this time of year, but I should have known better. For one thing, the waiter gave a disapproving look, yet couldn’t find a way to explain. For another, who has heard of fresh tomatoes in January. For the life of me, though, I couldn’t read their menu! And they could scarcely translate. It was safe.

By the time the next course arrived–their famous tagliatelle bolognese–I understood why it was Jonathan’s favorite. Wow. It was amazing. Perfect proportion of meat to sauce to noodle. Deliciously al dente. I looked up and saw that, as if with the snap of a finger, the large room was full of people. Many business men in suits carrying on their meetings with a meal as well as couples, girlfriends, etc. It was a happening place. Now, I couldn’t wave down a waiter if I was topless.

We washed it all down with a 2006 Castello Romitorio Brunello di Montalcino. It had been a long time since we had wine from this lovely Tuscan region. A hearty Sangiovese seemed like a perfect idea with our hearty bolognese. And it was. Though it smelled of infanticide with a hint of potential first thing out of the bottle, it opened up a bit with some time bringing on alpine notes of red berry fruit, a medicinal throw nack to luden’s cherry cough drops and even a little minty. This and the likely suspects of leathery, tart cherry, cocoa dust.

Day 2

At the Gare Centrale di Milano, we waited for the train to Geneva and munched on a ham and cheese sandwich at the cafe. It was 7:30a and coffee was a non-negotiable. A few bites in, I politely reminded the server of my coffee. But he had not forgotten. It was apparently not appropriate with my savory option, so I had to wait until I finished. I wolfed it down fairly fast. However, my sweet fiancee took his sweet time (he is NOT a coffee addict). Apparently, I also had to wait until he was done as well. So all I succeeded in doing was getting a belly ache and a disgusted look from the staff. Alas, I was finally given my heroine.

We passed by some incredible little towns. One of which, Stresa, I have concluded I must return to one day. It was a quaint hillside village overlooking the alps and Lake Maggiore. Apparently it is home to some noteworthy jazz festivals, gardens and religious monuments.

Coming up on Geneva, with Lac Leman off to the left, I saw a lonely swan floating along. What was she doing there? I searched, suddenly determined to find its mate. But there was no other. A little research, and I learned most swans, the largest of the duck family, travel in flocks. Not this one.

A light lunch at the world’s weirdest hotel out by the airport and near the large sports expo center–The Starling–and I learned the meaning of the expression ‘wine is cheaper than water in Europe’, as I begrudgingly handed over $46 for a salad, a cup of soup and water (the water alone at $7). Yep, at an airport hotel.

Walking to dinner, we passed through an awesome little street in downtown Geneva–Rue Chapponiere. If you should ever visit this grand city, I recommend you check it out. I know I surely will! A little wine shop and delicatessen with meats hung high sits on the corner. It is called Il Monte Bianco. And it is my dream shop. If only we could sell meat and wine under one retail roof in Denver without all the rigamaroo. Across the street is an adorable regional restaurant called Au Petite Chalet. A couple doors down we watched some people dig into some traditional grub at La Trois Fondue, and we eye-balled the yummy fare at Post Cafe. An idyllic street we were happy to stumble upon.

We decided to play fancy and have a cocktail at the Four Seasons. Fancy it was. I decided it needed 2002 Laurent Perrier to pair the moment. Heavy laden with wood, diamond-covered women and Patek Phillipe watches on wrists (hell, even the dogs wore fur), it was candyland for the untrained eye.

We went to one of our favorite spots for a bite: Bistrot du Boeuf Rouge to get back to reality and find that the sub $50 wine bottle still exists. We enjoyed oysters, beef tips and perch from Lac du Monde. This is a cozy place full of black-rimmed intellectuals, laughter and laid-back hearty fare.

Follow me to St. Moritz in upcoming blogs…

Taken from: http://headfullofbooks.blogspot.com/2011/12/2011-year-in-review.html

Best Overall: 1990 Lopez de Heredia Bosconia Gran Reserva ($175)–I mean, come on. Give me any wine in the world right now within reason, this is the one I will want to drink this one. Why? This winery always manages to beat everyone else, for it has the power to transfer you to another place and time. Wine is no longer made like this anymore. Like time stopped in 1889, these wines are haunting, saddled with stories, mysteries and family legend. They have a most unusual, identifiable aroma to them. I am at once nostalgic for what I cannot articulate. Sensational and moving, these wines evade a clear definition. They are the most memorable I have ever experienced. These wines, in fact, are an experience in themselves. I guess that’s the definition.

Best Old World Red: 2003 i Clivi Merlot ($26)–If this doesn’t redeem the ever-fallen Merlot varietal, I don’t know what will. I craved this wine often this year with a variety of foods, as it went perfectly with game, duck, rustic casseroles, pot roast, or simple cheese plates. Ripe, concentrated red fruits, spice and a respectful nod to the great wines of the right bank of Bordeaux, this Friulian find has been in the front line of recommendations for me. Rustic and wholesome, an uncompromising wine in its focused agenda to please yet be taken seriously.

Best New World Red: 2007 Bonny Doon Cigare Volant ($35)–A tired choice to some? Perhaps. But in all seriousness, trying it again this year a couple of times reminded me that it is truly an outstanding wine in so many ways. Incredibly complex for the price and indicating that bottle age will only unravel more facets, this Rhone blend is an outstanding wine from one of our country’s most gifted vintners.

Best Old World White: 2010 Patrick Piuze Petit Chablis ($21)–An absolute rockstar to keep an eye on, Piuze is like the soil whisperer. He has a way to take a region that already enjoys fame for its minerality and take it to an ever more pronounced level in his wines. No better way to prove it than with his entry level Petit– a region that is greatly overlooked for its lesser glorified Portlandian soil, he manages to give it an admirable face lift.

Best New World White: 2008 Pyramid Valley Vineyards Riverbrooke Riesling ($29)–I seldom bring in New Zealand Riesling, let alone higher end selections. They are a hard sell. This one had to, though. It is hard to put into words. I don’t worry that it might sit. It will only get better with time.

Best Champagne: 2002 Gaston Chiquet Special Club ($72)--How people can drop $175 for Dom when a 1er Cru Vintage can be had for more than half the price less is beyond me. A simply superb buy from a true farmer, from the vine to the bottle.

Best Bubbles: Camille Braun Cremant d’Alsace Rose ($25)– A remarkable new addition to the Denver market, this rose has provoked more of a response from my customers (and myself) than any bubbly ever has. It is stunning. Near flawless. Only 300 cases made. And that is evident on the palate.

Most Eccentric: 2008 Penalba Cruz Bianco of Tempranillo/Sauvignon Blanc ($21)–An incredibly intriguing wine, for they remove skins from the red Tempranillo grape, blend it with Sauv Blanc then leave it in barrel to become a most unusual, profound substance. Delightfully rich and multidimensional.

Best Value: 2008 Chateau Valcombe Cote du Ventoux ($15)–An old favorite, this red has the rusticity of the Rhone with the finesse of Burgundy. Delicate layers and hidden aromatics will have you sniffing for hours.

Most Surprising Gem: 2004 Crooked Creek Meritage ($13)–Wow. Blindfold me, and I was guessing a well made, mid-priced ($25ish?) aged Cab from California, only to find it had a fair amount of Cab Franc from where else but Creede Colorado! Outstanding little blend.

Best Conversation Starter: 2008 Casalone Freisa ($17)–A winery that has been elevating every varietal in Piemonte other than Nebbiolo since the 1700s, including the rare Freisa grape. A light froth on this purple liquid might have you thinking sweet lambrusco, but you will find a savory sensation that is dying for cured meats and cheese to really shine.

Best Weekly Standby: 2008 Damiano Ciolli Silene Cesanese ($20)–Anyone who had me to dinner this year has probably tried this fascinating varietal from just outside Rome in the region of Lazio. This grower is bringing Cesanese back and showing everyone that it can be extremely complex. I cannot get enough.

Best Label Design: Lini 910 Lambrusco Bianco ($17)–If this were a place, it would be Williamsburg. Hip and edgy, it is pushing the envelope by refusing to be confined to a predictable definition. Dry, crisp, white and complex, this bubbly will have you scratching your head if you ever beheld Reunite.

Best Book on Wine: Reading Between the wines by Terry Theise ($20)–It doesn’t even take a wine lover to slip into this memoir. Terry Theise is a lover of language and his ability to arrange it in beautiful shapes is both refreshing and inspiring. A different way to consider wine.

Best Wine List in Town: Table 6–Best is Best. Whether I recommend them all the time or not. Come on Denver. Give them some competition. Bigger is not better. It’s the thoughtfulness that counts.

Best Night Cap: Vajra Chinato ($80)–An old recipe from Piemonte, it isn’t difficult to imagine this was an apothecary liquid to cure winter born illness. Christmas spices will warm you from the base of your body on up to your brain. A soothing voice manifests itself in this Barolo kissed digestif.

Best Aperitif: Carpano Antica Formula Vermouth ($35)– On one massive rock with a twist of orange, and you just might start to hear an old jazz standard playing in the background of each sip.

Best of the Eco-Friendly: 2009 Nikolaihof ‘Hefeabzug’ Gruner Veltliner ($24)–2010 still a little too jazzed. This vintage is drinking perfectly from the oldest estate in Europe, first to be Demeter biodynamic certified.

Best of the Boxes: Caves de Pomerols Picpoul de Pinet ($22)–This is just one of those gems I will never tire of, as it proves that a wine need not be pricey to impress an entire room of novices and know-it-alls alike. Fresh, zippy and playful.

Sabrage, an awesome vocab word they never put in my GRE flashcards, dates back to Napoleanic times when the soldiers wouldn’t have the dexterity to open a bottle while riding a horse back to their bases. They would pull out their sword and have at it in order to celebrate (or mourn) the battle outcome. Nowadays, it is merely a tactic to impress friends, out-cool your colleagues or get laid (good luck with that).

First and foremost: Saber at your OWN risk. This is potentially very dangerous and could put out more than an eye if done incorrectly. It is only for the very courageous.

You will need:

• A very, very cold bottle of bubbles (go cheap while practicing); do not freeze the bottle. Just don’t let it sit out for long.

• A saber or butcher’s knife. We will be using the dull side of the knife. This is about pressure, not actually cutting the glass with a sharp knife.

• Protective eyewear if you are smart and don’t care about people pointing and laughing at you.

• A place outside that you can launch a cork thousands of miles per hour.

• Lack of a conscience, as you might take out a small family of birds in the process.

Okay, here we go.

Step 1: Remove the foil entirely, you need a clean edge to slide the blade.

Step 2: Remove the cage, sure to keep the bottle ALWAYS pointed away from you and your audience, who should stay behind you at all times, we don’t want you to blind anyone or, God forbid, behead someone by accident with your blade.

Step 3: Find the most dominant vertical seam in the bottle. This is the vulnerable point.

Step 4: Hold at a 45degree angle and note the little rim, that will be where you want to hit the bottle with the dull side of the knife.

Step 5: You want to do this in one forward follow through motion. Just hit that point with little force and follow through.

Step 6: Before attempting any of this, watch some YouTube videos for motivation and visual aids.

Step 7: Enjoy being a total badass.