My dear Chardonnay, I know what you’re gonna say, “how can you have had so many loves in one lifetime?”  You probably think that I have serious relationship issues.  But to my defense, I love each of you in a completely different way.  In no way do I let one relationship interfere with the other.  Chardonnay, your juice is light and clear, it is not as aromatic as some of my past red lovers.  I hope you never felt inferior to my other grape loves.  I have always noticed a bit of insecurity in your personality, and may be that is what drew me closer to you.

Ohhh Chardonnay, don’t get worked up in a hissy.  There you go again, taking things personally.  Let me explain myself.  When I first met you, you came in a white bottle with a Stag dancing about.  Your label read Stag’s Leap Winery.  My mother brought you home everyday and everyday I just stared at you glistening in the bottle.  Granted I was not old enough to drink you then, but my heart pounded with anticipation of what you might taste like.  Finally the day came that I took the long awaited sip.  Do you remember that?  I think I hurt your feelings.  My comment was something like, “that was it!?”  I am so sorry that I said that out loud.  I was young and stupid.  I never realized that it would have effected you the way it did.  I just expected more.  You were fruity and creamy, but something was lacking.  There I go again, bringing up the negative.  Chardonnay, please relax… let me finish.  I just believed it wasn’t the best representation of you.

I soon started on a path of restaurant work where you were present in every form.  However, the most common form was in a bottle labeled California.  Each version of you was no different from the one before.  You were loaded with make-up and dressed up in almost a tacky way.  CHARDONNAY!! Stop your crying…let me finish!  Those California winemakers gave you a complex.  They put you in new oak, they took away your acidity and loaded you up with yeast that made you tropical and creamy.  While many enjoyed you in this form, I felt that there was something gorgeous and real hidden under that facade.  You are such a beautiful girl, you posses a natural beauty that doesn’t need to hide behind high heels, lipstick and foundation.

I knew this because I saw what you were like when you came from a bottle that was

www.david-de-beaufort.com

labeled Puligny-Montrachet.  It was love at third sight!  Your aromas of pear and apple were tantalizing.  There was such balance, you were dry on the palate and your acidity gave you such a lift, I almost cried.  Yes, this was it!  Finally you were being true to yourself and not hiding behind the fashions of the day.

So I began to explore more of you.  It seemed that like many good girls, being back at home was a good thing for you.  You felt like yourself.  You were truly a daddy’s girl. Your daddy, Pinot Noir, growing just to the North must have been very healing for you.  I know it has been hard not seeing your mom, Gouais Blanc.  Last time you two were together was on that summer trip to Croatia.  A girl needs her mom.  However, I was proud to see how you developed at home throughout all the different regions of Burgundy.  In Chablis you became cold and edgy, it really turned me on.  In the Maconnaise you were showing that California personality without all the makeup.  The only problem was that you were so far away from me.

I sat and sulked in  San Diego experiencing you every once in a while.  Your prices were high, and this poor sommelier could not always indulge in you.  Then a few months ago, I was pleasantly surprised to see you come back to California.  I was in Los Angeles at the Pursuit of Balance tasting and seminar, you were in perfect form.  I was so impressed to see what Rajat Parr of Sandi Wines and Matt Licklider of Lioco Wines were doing to you.  They let you come out of your shell in California.  You no longer had to dress up in oak and splash yeast all over you.  I can see, that you were not interested in competing with the beach babes of California.  These wine makers let you be you and you truly shined with aromas of tree fruits with structured acidity.

Click here to see these pioneers talk about Chardonnay.

Oh Chardonnay, please forgive me if I was ever cruel to you.  I never meant to hurt your feelings.  I know that you do not like to share me.  I know that we might not stay together forever.  But please know that I will always have a place in my heart for you.  You are the most widely planted grape in the world. You have many lovers.  I am just a small fish in the big sea, but you will always be special to me.

My Beloved Tempranillo,

I write this love letter as I sit here and reminisce on our previous encounters.  The first day we met,  I was in college and on a budget.  You too were in your youth, young and fruity, just a “Joven” from Rioja.  Our first encounter was love at first sight.  I can still smell your intoxicating strawberry aromas.

I later came across you again, I had started working at a Nuevo Latino restaurant and my sommelier added you by the glass.  I knew then that you were a one guy kind of grape.  You were still in Rioja, but this time you were a little better dressed and the bottle I served you from said “Reserva”.  This encounter was a little different from our first.  Your aromas were still of strawberry fruits but there was this toasty coconut and vanilla undertone that made my heart leap.

Oh how they loved you in la Rioja!  Maybe it has to do with your name, Tempranillo.  Were you named after the word “temprano” (early in Spanish)?  Your ability to ripen early led you to be the heart throbe of the cooler region, Rioja.  They so loved you that they tried to keep you in barrels for long periods of time.  They then re-classified you as “Gran Reserva”.  My beautiful Tempranillo, you became so complex in barrels.  Did I not have enough to offer you?

As I matured and started to become more experimental I realized that you too were looking for something new.  You decided to change your name to Tinto de Pais and live in the hotter climate of Ribera del Duero.  I almost did not recognize you.  You were darker and had built up more muscle.  Your aromas took on prune, leather and chocolate.  However, that hint of strawberry blew your cover.  I am not sure why you were running away from me, was I too possessive?

Then one day you were gone again, only to be found atop a mesa in La Mancha.  You changed your name once again, this time to Cencibel.  Really Tempranillo, why do you do this to me?  I get it! Your skins are thick and they were able to protect you from the hot sun.  You also must have loved the diurnal shift of the continental climate when those hot days turned into cold nights.  But why keep running?

Each time I found you I found a new affinity for you and your Sagitarius spirit.  You love traveling, you adapt to the local culture and express yourself in new ways.  When I came across you in Portugal where you went by the name Tinto Roriz in the Douro and Aragona in Alentejo.  My blood pressure skyrocketed when I heard that they were using you as a blending grape for Port.  But then I tasted the pruned fruit, dried herbs and leathery flavors those Portugese wine makers divulged when they fermented you dry.

I spoke to your mom and dad, Albillo Mayor and Benedicto.  They have not seen you since you left the house back in the 13th century.  Like everyone else you touch they miss you dearly.

 

Over the past several years I have been on your trail.  I followed you to Australia, New Zealand, Mexico and South America.  Although you have run away from me for so many years, your search for love is bringing you back to me.  You are a lover of Calcareous soils with black clay.  I hope you don’t think it is coincidence that I live only hours away from Paso Robles, where the hills are calling your name.  Please don’t change your name.  Find a home, stay close to me and let me suffocate in your aromas of strawberry, plums, chocolate and flowers.

Roses are red, violets are blue; Tempranillo come to bed, Tempranillo I love you!

My dear Grenache, our history together is like a movie.  When I first began dating grapes I thought I was in love with Syrah.  As a young man I was dating different varieties, mostly the ones I found at the closest Safeway or in my mom’s cabinet.  I worked in the restaurant as a cook.  I wanted to take dating grapes more seriously, so I moved out of the kitchen and started serving.  Serving allowed me to have more cash in my pocket.  More cash in my pocket allowed me to date more grapes. Because it seemed chic, I started to experiment with French grapes.  I came across you when I tasted Vieux Télégraphe from Chateauneuf-du-pape.  Oh man were you good!  The whole time I thought I was dating Syrah.  Our relationship flourished.  We were very compatible.  Chateauneuf-du-pape was easy to pronounce and I felt like a real man when I walked into a party with you.  All the time I thought I was in love with Syrah.  And then one day I read the winemaker’s PDF tech sheet only to unmask your true identity.  Vieux Télégraphe was mostly made of Grenache.  It was devastating, like a scene from the “Crying Game”.

I felt betrayed and bamboozled.  I decide to leave Chateauneuf-du-pape with a heartbroken break up.  But there was something about you that left me aching for more. Grenache you were a wild red-head that left me enchanted.  Although I had dated you under a different alias, I got all giddy around you, like I was discovering someone new.

You kept popping up in my life, but you did not come alone.  You always brought your friends with you.  Like all men, the idea of a ménage à trois was exciting, but when it happened all the time I did not know if it was me or your friends you desired.  When you left for your uncle’s house in Rioja, I came for a visit.  We hung out, but you also brought Tempranillo, Mazuelo and Graciano to the party, I felt left out.  When you left for college outside Barcelona, in the village of Priorat, you were still hanging with Mazuelo, but you called her Carignan. You also had other floosies such as Cabernet and Syrah.  Although I enjoyed our time together, our relationship was purely sexual. It reminded me of Salvador Garcia Ruiz’s Spanish film, “3some”. 

I left Grenache for the second time.  As years passed by and I continued my travels in search for love, I came across many other grapes.  Some were fun and flirty, others serious and too clingy.  While I was in Australia I caught a whiff of red cherry and roses.  The wine was light and fruity and quite alcoholic.  I knew right away, it was my red-headed nympho, Grenache.  I was not ready to re-visit those wild days of the past and I ran away from you.

I got married and thought I had forgotten about you.  And one day you showed up again, but this time I was not going to follow my sexual desires.  I watched you from afar and saw that you had matured.  You came in the form of a sweet fortified wine from Banyuls.  I was so intrigued I took at taste.  Wow, my wild child had left her friends behind and let her personality shine.  You tasted of chocolate & raspberry, so delicious. You had left your friends behind and become a strong independent woman.  You used your sexuality to advance and become more independent, like Melanie Griffin in “Working Girl”.  Harrison Ford was your fortification which gave you the ability to stand up strong with confidence.

Since that day I have kept an eye on you from a distance.  More and more wine makers are allowing you to see your full potential and let you shine on your own.  David Phinney of Orin Swift has gone all the way to Cote du Catalan and pushed you to the brink.  He made you into a powerful confident young woman.  Although you still have an alcoholic side, you are more well-behaved and show a completely different side of you, of black fruits and dark flowers.  

Bob Betz in Washington State has also taken you under his wing and turned you into a woman of society.  It’s kind of like “Pretty Woman”.  I tasted the Betz Grenache and saw all that red wild berries and red cherries of your youth, backed by floral aromas and great acidity.  Now that I am a married man, I can only sit back and watch you develop as wine makers are bravely going where others have not gone before.  I am excited to see what they will do with you in Chile and other areas that have those schist soils we so loved of your college days in Priorat.

You will always have a firm hold on my desires.

Your former lover,

Maurice DiMarino