WINO 101

So where was I?

Ah, yes. Just about to get to the wine parts of the trip to the fine, fine Oregon coast!

So the first night, having just arrived for dinner with only enough time to drop our bags and check the mirror, the thought of wine for dinner wasn’t at the forefront. Also during packing we didn’t really think of bringing anything along. I mean, from the years of having the shop and the years at the distributor before that, my cellar does have a few things that need to be popped before all hope is lost. Do I mean hope? I think I mean flavor. That’s another discussion.

The wine list at the restaurant was simple. Really, I could tell they kept the wine ordering easy considering I could tell all the wine came from one distributor. It’s the guys that carry all the beer, so it’s usually wine I consider lowest-common-denominator wine. Grocery-store stuff. Fair enough. It’s an easy way to order. Only having to write one check for the wine and the beer at the same time, etc. And it wasn’t like they’re ordering specifically for me anyway. I mean, I bet most folks sitting down to dinner there really only need to specify red or white. Or . . . ugh . . .pink.

We chose the Ridge Geyserville Zinfandel, maybe because all the other wines seemed to be the “safe road” for the wine list. An uninteresting Pinot Noir. An uninteresting Merlot. An uninteresting Cabernet. An . . .ugh . . . uninteresting White Zinfandel. And then your traditional Chardonnay. And a red blend that I only found interesting because I’ve noticed the distributor had been selling the same vintage for the last 7 years. I guess either the winery made too much of it or nobody likes it. Of course, if nobody likes it, then they definitely made too much of it. But I digress.

The Ridge Zin was about what I’d expected. That winery has been seemed to me to be traveling the safe road. And by “safe road” I mean “sacrificing an interesting wine for a reliable wine”. It was good, but it was also unexciting. I expect Zinfandel to be strong, spicy, aggressive and assertive. This was like . . . a warm bath after a long hike. Or . . . a warm, fuzzy blanket after . . . a warm bath . . . or something. A purple drink that neither excited nor offended. It was a Cabernet-lover’s Zin. But, hey. It washed down dinner just fine.

The following day we knew we wanted to wander through Nye Beach a bit and see the sights and sip the wine. Not even one block from the hotel was the Village Market & Deli. We popped in for a quick snack and spoke at length with the proprietors, Bob and Deborah. It’s a great place for a quick meat and cheese plate and a glass of wine. In fact, the meat and cheese plate had about double or triple the quantities of delectable goodness than the one from a local Portland wine bar. (A place to which we went only once, just for that reason).

From there we wandered down the road another block to the Nye Beach Gallery - Art and Wine. (Come to think of it, I didn’t really notice any art. Perhaps I was just distracted.) Once there we enjoyed a wine tasting of Spain vs. New World wines and talked with Wendy and Zachary. We actually stayed there quite a while, discussing the Oregon wine scene, the folly of some American wine making styles, the foibles of the local sales infrastructure and distributors, and raving about most of the same wines.

The point I have to make about the whole voyage, as it relates to wine, is that in these tourist-y, out-of-the-way places can be some of the best treasure hunts when it comes to rare and valuable bottles. Most folks aren’t really out shopping for wine when they take their trips to the beach, so the special bottles that might be snatched up in town end up collecting dust on the shelves in these places. Between the Village Market & Deli and the Nye Beach Gallery, we racked up a case of wine . . . the most we’d purchased for ourselves since opening the shop. (Well, besides a trip to Walla Walla. That’s a whole other story.) Many were bottles that I knew were sold-out long ago within Portland and some that I was not “allowed” by the distributors. (That’s also a whole other story.)

Of course wine and food are not the only things to do at Newport’s Nye Beach. I’m not writing a tourist’s guide, so I don’t need to go into to much detail. Of course there are galleries and shopping, not to mention the beach itself. But during the winter it’s a bit rainy and stormy, so those walks on the beach can be a bit soggy. Watching those storms roll by from the comforts of a nice cafe or the Sylvia Beach Library with a nice glass of red in hand, and great company at your side, can make a relaxing vacation.

Hello friends and wine lovers!

Welcome to the First Post in a Long Time! And the first in 2008. I think we’re finally settled after closing down the shop and slowly moving on to the Next Big Thing! What is that thing? Weeeeeee’re working on it. There are a few irons in the fire, as they say. But now that I think about it, what does that mean? Where does the phrase come from? Does that have something to do with cattle ranching and branding? Because in that instance then we don’t have irons in the fire. In that case I could say we’ve got a few things coming down the pike, but that doesn’t make much sense either. Isn’t a pike a fish? The long and the short of it is, (whatever THAT means), we’ve got plans. But nothing solid enough to write about. Except, of course, for the writing. One of my passions, and one of the long or short pikes in the fire, you might say. And as that, here’s this. Some writing.

Newport, Part I:

So just this last weekend, while all others were watching some sporting event interspersed with advertisements . . . or some advertisements interspersed with some sporting event, Laura and I went to Newport on the Oregon coast for our 4th anniversary. Okay, the actual anniversary happened in the beginning of January, but the last time we tried to spend the anniversary at the coast, we found that everyone in Newport (except for the Panini place) goes on vacation for all of January. Sure, that makes for all kinds of interesting sitting-around-and-reading-all-day adventures, but this time we figured if we waited a month, then maybe we could actually see the sights . . . and eat something other than Paninis.

We stayed at the Sylvia Beach Hotel in Nye Beach. Just to be clear, Sylvia was a person, not a beach. And Nye, who could quite possibly have been the person for whom the beach is named, is the name of the beach on which the hotel is situated. Clear? Good. I forget the whole history of the building, but in its present incarnation it has been around for 20 years. One of the best things about the hotel is the overall theme of the place. All the rooms in this old bilding have been themed after some author, or another. Agatha Christie, Ernest Hemingway, Edgar Allen Poe, Alice Walker, J.R.R. Tolkien, Shakespeare, Dr. Seuss for the kids, and so on.

All the decorations in these rooms have something to do with either the authors or their works. The Poe room is our favorite, with a pendulum above the bed and a raven on the dresser and somebody apparently bricked into the wall. This time we had Hemingway, which had all kinds of hunting and fishing photos and a dead animal head above the bed. With our collective morbid sense of humor we thought of a few authors who weren’t represented and what would be in their rooms. Like the Bukowski room that comes with a beer fridge. Or the Sylvia Plath room that is the only unit to come with a full kitchen. Or the H.P. Lovecraft room, the only one where you instantly go insane upon entering . . . although that would be a hard thing to arrange.

When it comes to dining in Newport, especially early in the year, we’ve found no better place than the Sylvia Beach Hotel’s dining room, found on the lowest level of the hotel. I’ve been to many restaurants where I’ve paid a lot more and received a lot less when it comes to food quality and quantity. The courses come in “Chapters” considering it still has to be a literary theme, and all the meals are served “family style”, meaning you share a table with other guests, and are “encouraged” to converse with them. And by “encouraged” I mean “are forced”.

Now, now. I don’t think it’s a bad thing. It’s a great opportunity to meet other people and it actually is a lot of fun, and a small price to pay for such delicious food and not having to leave the hotel to get said food. But it might not be something you’d be looking for if you were expecting a romantic, candle-lit meal for two. Unless, of course, you were the only two people to show up for dinner. During the slower winter season, that could be a possibility, but don’t count on it.

The wine list? Well, I suppose it’s enough to satisfy most folks. But if it says anything of the three nights we dined down there, we brought our own wine for the second two nights. More about that tomorrow . . .

M