When I first moved here to start Red White Atlanta, I committed to a good six weeks' worth of getting my feet wet when it comes to the local wine scene.
Six weeks to start understanding how the system works.
Six weeks to find sweet spots of business opportunity.
Six weeks to identify who's who and what's what and where the there is.
Six weeks, in other words, to case the joint. (Don't laugh. I'm just borrowing the phrase from people much more hip than me. You know what I mean.)
So far two things have become crystal clear.
One: six weeks to "get my feet wet" is inadequate, to say the least. I've just barely dipped a toe in. But I'm alright with that. Patience I can do.
Two: a serious opportunity seems to exist on the Club circuit within the state of Georgia. That is, when members-only Clubs host wine tastings where vendors pour samples, guests can purchase and pay for wines they like right there on the spot. No on-premise or off-premise retailer necessary, unless of course you consider the Club the third party (which technically it is).
I think in the legal trade they call that a loophole, one that gets around the usual three-tier system of alcohol distribution in the U.S.
In the name of Red White Atlanta's business, I call it a what's what worth thinking about.
Stay tuned!
It was a Saturday evening.
The next door neighbors on both sides were coming over for dinner, plus a few others.
My parents were in town.
And dinner time was butting up against the end of the Georgia football game.
My plan?
Keep it simple.
Very, very simple.
As in game-time, pre-dinner snacks of three ingredients or less:
- Crimini mushrooms filled with Boursin cheese and baked (Thank you, Julia Cantor, for the suggestion!)
- Peaches, quartered then drizzled with olive oil, grilled, and wrapped in prosciutto (Thank you, Richard Shaffer, for this suggestion and the next!)
- Chévre cheese shaped into a log, drizzled with honey then rolled in chopped walnuts
As for dinner itself?
The same simple three-ingredient rule applied:
- Roast chicken with olive oil and salt
- Farmer's market tomatoes with mozzarella and olive oil
- Croutons that had soaked up the chicken juices from the roasting pan.
It could not be simplier or easier.
The wine had to be, too.
Which is why I reached for 2009 Beaujolais Cru from Louis Jadot.
I'd picked it up on sale at the local Publix. (Check out that story here.)
It's a killer vintage.
And I love the producer.
One bottle went on one side of the table and another bottle went on the other side of the table.
Georgia won.
Afterward, so did we.
It was that simple.
I admit it. I was a little skeptical.
My neighbor Miss Judy handed me a few back issues of Garden & Gun and said it was one of the best magazines she's ever seen. Plus it was regional to the South, she said. Plus the photographs were gorgeous, she said.
Really? I asked. A magazine called Garden & Gun (emphasis on the Gun) just did not seem up my alley, regardless of how eager I am as a newcomer to put my finger on the pulse of what makes the southern US tick.
But this was Miss Judy. I trust her. And, even at first flip-through, the photographs did seem very well done. So I took the magazines home.
Then I started reading.
And reading.
And, well, reading.
Call it a revelation, and me a convert.
What really did it was an article about the Mint Julep by Jonathan Miles in the May/June 2008 issue.
My senses perk up when I read a sentence or a turn of phrase that I want to steal (okay, borrow, with appropriate credit given) for use in my own writing.
I've stolen and reused this phrase of Miles' about 50 times in the past week, and it's from his recipe -- from a recipe, people -- for the Mint Julep:
"Add the mint leaves and press them lightly with a spoon -- you want to seduce the oil from the mint leaves, not beat it out of them."
I might be taking it too far to say that's pretty much the difference, now that I'm settling into Atlanta, in my approach. "To seduce rather than beat it out of them." To seduce my children into thinking vegetables are in their own best interest, rather than insist they just eat them. To seduce prospective clients with my proposals, rather than beat their agreement out of them. To seduce editors' interest in my writing, rather than beat down their doors.
It seems to be a question of nuance, when it comes to Mint Juleps and otherwise.
Is that going too far?
Maybe.
Maybe not.
As for a magazine that seeks out and prints that kind of writing?
I'm a fast fan.
Here are the items that I have tried so far and very much enjoyed at Flip Burger:
- butcher's cut
- mushroom + swiss
- raw steak tartare
- rBQ
- country fried chicken (shown in the photo above)
- heritage turkey
- fauxlafel
- smoked caesar (also shown in the photo above)
- cherry tomatoes
- southern fried b&b pickles
- spicy bbq sweet potato tots
- peaches + cream milkshake
- Nutella + burnt marshmallow milkshake
Here is the item that I have tried and did not like at Flip Burger:
When I say I tried, I tried.
Different wines. By the glass. By the bottle. Red wine. White wine.
It just doesn't work.
It isn't the wine's fault.
I think it has to do with the atmosphere at Flip Burger. And, of course, with the food.
Yes, Flip Burger's smoked caesar salad with anchovy dressing is lovely with a Sauvignon Blanc or Pinot Grigio.
But who goes to Flip Burger just to eat the salad?
I understand and appreciate the benefits, many of them financial, of a restaurant's beverage program involving alcohol. I can hardly blame Flip Burger for trying.
But there are times when wine isn't the answer, or when it shouldn't be part of the equation.
I think this is one of those times.
Before moving to Atlanta, I'd heard horror stories about the traffic in and around the city.
Like people organizing their entire schedules -- their entire lives -- depending on the time of day or a road construction project.
Oy.
So I was surprised to realize that, in the three weeks or so I've been living here, I've only filled up my gas tank twice. (I drive a relatively fuel-efficient Prius, it's true, but still.)
It isn't that I walk everywhere or don't spend any time in the car. I do. It's just that my trips are short, about three miles or less from home.
The road close to home that I probably drive the most is West Paces Ferry. On Saturday I was in between errands (including the Peachtree Road Farmers Market -- wonderful!) when I noticed a yard sale underway on the lawn in front of Pace Academy.
I pulled in -- I'm on the lookout for a clothes tree for just inside the front door, to hang winter coats -- and scanned the field. Suddenly things happened very fast.
I immediately spotted the Oriental-style rugs, which have been a dream purchase of mine: I need to protect the hardwood floors from the dog's nail scratches, but the price of these kind of rugs has been prohibitive.
I approached the area where they were laid out.
I was stunned (stunned) by their very low price tags.
I was greeted by none other than Miss Jill, who organizes our neighborhood's Friday afternoon Happy Hours, who also organized the yard sale, and who I met for the first time a few weeks ago as we sipped Prosecco together at the house up the street.
Jill -- bless her heart -- let me bargain with her even further since, at those prices, I wanted to purchase more than one.
Eventually I drove off with an absolute treasure trove of beautiful, new (to me) rugs to dog-nail-proof the floors.
I attribute the successful bargain to the Prosecco.
Because who wouldn't be happy sipping bubbles?
Jill and I certainly were.
Tonight I'm sipping a bit more of it, in a toast to Miss Jill and to the power of Prosecco.
I was hosting some friends at home on Saturday night – there’s that gathering thing again – and while picking up a few ingredients at the local Publix, I noticed they offered a discount on wine.
Buy 8 bottles or more and get 10% off.
Not too shabby, I thought, though 10% off a bad bottle of wine still leaves you with a bad bottle of wine. So I browsed the shelves, eyes alert for wines and brands I trusted or was willing to give a whirl. I also shifted into economy mode, influenced by the thrifty hook of the venture I suppose, and set a limit of $15 or less per bottle.
After I few minutes I was in full appreciation of two things:
- Already knowing something about wine is helpful when browsing a new selection of labels. This is both a massive understatement and a nudge to Publix, who seems to have missed the memo on the benefits of a systematic organization of their inventory. (In a nutshell: display wines so it’s easy for consumers to find what they want, rather than in a way that makes them want to flee in confusion or frustration. Signage works wonders!)
- Reward goes to the persistent. Or at least to those willing to peek into forgotton corners and shelves just a few inchdes up from the floor.
Let me cut to the reward part. Here are the eight bottles I picked up – all under $15, all at a 10% discount, and all linked to a memory of taste or experience. Because for me wine is, in the end, all about the experience and the story.
- 2010 Simi Sauvignon Blanc from Sonoma County, because I co-hosted an event a few months ago with their winemaker and felt her Sauvignon Blanc was the most refreshing on offer that night.
- 2010 St. Supéry Sauvignon Blanc from Napa Valley, because my smell memory of this wine went straight to PEACHES, which I was serving as an appetizer, grilled and wrapped in prosciutto.
- 2009 Louis Jadot Beaujolais-Villages (3 bottles), because a friend of mine whose palate I respect named his dog Jadot after this particular producer. Because I’ve visited the maison in Beaune a few years ago and interviewed the marketing director. And because 2009 was a truly exceptional vintage in Beaujolais. That makes three reasons to purchase three bottles of the stuff. Plus it was $12.99 per bottle (before the discount) and plus plus I was serving roast chicken as the main course and I love it with Gamay.
- Yellow Tail Sparkling Rosé Wine, because I had heard whispers even from people I would (if I were being unfriendly) call wine snobs that Yellow Tail’s effort at sparklers was GOOD, despite the massiveness and critter-label derision of their production. Plus it was $8.99 a bottle.
- Yellow Tail Sparkling Wine Wine. See above.
- 2010 Alamos Malbec, because I needed a Malbec from Argentina to compare to a Malbec from France, and because Alamos turns out to be the second label of Catena, whose wines I think are very good.
I have a confession to make to my new friends in the South.
I don't know much about Bourbon.
That is, I've got a few bits of info sorted out. Like Bourbon's roots in Kentucky. Its eighteenth-century frontier origins. Its place in Mint Juleps.
But I don't know it in the most important way: how it TASTES and how it feels going down.
So on my way home tonight I stopped in at Pearson's Wine and headed straight for the Bourbon section. (Not that I knew where that was, with this being my first visit there and all, but the staff was plenty helpful.)
A few ideas were nudging my decision as I stood before the selection.
One was a book I picked up this summer at VinExpo in Bordeaux. It was written by Beatrice Cointreau (as in, Cointreau Cointreau), who I was super lucky enough to meet and talk to in person. It's a very sensory-oriented book, and in it she describes designing glass bottles (sense of sight) and a perfume (sense of smell) called 1270, the year her family established itself in France. She also knows a thing or two about Cognac, and my taste for that particular beverage has increased significantly since meeting her. I suspected I'd be partial to a Bourbon that appeals in the way a Cognac appeals.
Another idea asserting its influence was small-production versus large-production. I'd heard whispers, almost reverential whisphers, about Pappy Van Winkle -- the staff at Pearson's told me they get inquiries about it at least three times a week, that they might get a few bottles of it come October or so, but that really it's like the Holy Grail of Bourbon. Okay, so my choice today wasn't going to be as small-production or as precious as that but I didn't want it to be generic or produced on a massive scale either.
In the end I chose a bottle of Four Roses Single Barrel Kentucky Straight Bourbon Whiskey. Which brings me quickly to the most important part.
The drinking.
I poured myself a short glass and added a single ice cube. The color, a medium-pale amber, reminded me of the exterior wrapping of my grandfather's cigars. I could smell caramel and orange peel, earth and sawdust, walnuts too. I got much of the same on the palate but, at least for the first few sips, the experience is more about the texture and the sear of the alcohol down my throat. The "sear" turns out to be lingering warmth rather than fire hot, something I find comforting.
Which bodes well for my newly-christened, ongoing education in Bourbon.
On my way out of Pearson's I did what any rational person would do when they want to know about something new to them.
I asked Twitter.
And I got plenty of responses. But that's another story for another time.
For now I'm going to get back to my glass of Bourbon.
A neighbor of mine was having a birthday yesterday and -- not knowing her all that thoroughly just yet -- I decided to play it safe and bring her flowers. So I asked around to other neighbors about where to go.
The answer, hands down, was Boxwoods Gardens & Gifts on East Andrews Drive. (Unfortunately they don't have a website yet or I'd totally be linking to it here!)
I made my choices and browsed while the staff worked re-potting and re-mossing and generally making beautiful to-go packages ready to hand-deliver.
The one word I'd use to describe Boxwoods is TEXTURE.
In design school they teach you how to understand a building by understanding its texture. How would it feel -- an exterior wall, the tread of a staircase, the finish of the bedroom floor -- if you were to rub your hands over it?
How I'd feel if I ran my hands over even half of the items at Boxwoods is exhausted.
Not in a bad way. Not at all. What I'm saying is that there are that many contours and edges and fabrics and ridges in that shop that it's easy to become overstimulated.
Which I why I honed in.
I focused on just a few pieces -- snapshots of them are here -- and, yes, they do tend to have an alcohol theme.
But that suits just fine. Because the birthday-girl neighbor has never, in the times I have seen her, been that far from a glass of Scotch on the rocks.
Her brand?
Cutty Sark.
Which makes it today's drink of the day.
What’s become clear to me, after just a few short weeks in Atlanta, is that my days of drinking alone are long gone.
People here gather – GATHER – like no place else I’ve ever seen.
And when people gather, people naturally talk. And when people talk, people naturally drink. And when people drink, people naturally talk more, usually about the next time they’ll gather.
And, of course, drink.
You’ll get no complaints from me.
All of this gathering, and all of the invitations that lead to the gathering, are the single most differentiating factor that sets Atlanta apart from every other place I’ve lived.
I am soaking it up.
And drinking my fair share too, by the way.
(Or maybe a little more than that. So sue me.)
Here are five of my favorite gathering – er, drinking – experiences SO FAR in Atlanta:
- Kir Royale – served in a PGA to-go cup – at the Atlanta Athletic Club.
- Beers at the Brick Store Pub in Decatur.
- Launch party for Key Riesling at Aja.
- Prosecco at my first Neighborhood Happy Hour.
- Chenin Blanc sparkling wine from the Loire at the next-door neighbor’s.
The best part of all?
I’m just getting started.
The last time I moved to a new city -- to Boston, about five years ago -- I oriented myself by writing about one single thing every day for a year.
That thing was wine.
Essentially I saw the world of Boston through the lens (okay, the bottom) of a wine glass. And I kept written tabs on the adventure on a website called 365daysofwine.com.
Writing about wine every day means you really get the lay of the land: what retail shops hold free tastings on which days, for example. And what restaurants have staff truly dedicated to their beverage programs. And where to go no matter what time of the day or night to get your “fix.”
That’s a bit of a confession, I suppose, because I am addicted to wine and I do drink it every day and write about it in some fashion at least once every 24 hours.
The good news is that it isn’t the alcohol or the buzz per se that I’m addicted to.
It’s the stories behind the wine. For me every bottle, every glass, and even every sip has its own story to tell, depending on where it’s from and who I’m with when I’m drinking it and what I’m eating alongside it and why I’ve selected that particular bottle in the first place.
Which means that for me wine is also about the challenge. Not of knowing more arcane bits of knowledge than someone else -- kick me if I ever come off sounding pretentious about wine. Wine challenges me because it is NEW every single time. No two bottles are the same, no two glasses, no two sips.
That is exactly what’s got me thinking back to 365daysofwine.com today.
Because I’m in a new city (again). And (again) I need a way to find my footing. And (still) I know that wine will not let me down -- as a way to meet people, as a way to orient myself in this new place, as the challenge that it is.
[Note to my Red White Boston friends: you are not being left behind! Far, far from it. I've invited more people to work on RWB, to keep building it, enhancing it, making it more useful. Some things we're working on: push notifications about events, a network of partner restaurants, and more tastings for the Red White Tasting Crew. Boston is my first love. You know that.]
Writing 365daysofwine.com set me well onto the path of what has become Red White Boston. Now I have Red White USA as the “parent,” with offspring in different cities -- Red White Boston, of course, and now Red White Atlanta.
A few things are different, like using Facebook instead of a website and seeing what parts of the Red White Boston iPhone app are adaptable to Atlanta.
But what stays the same is that wine is about PEOPLE.
That's where I need your help.
Please tell me your favorite places to enjoy wine in Atlanta -- where you drink it, where you buy it, what kind you like, what brands you're hooked on, what you like to eat with what you're drinking.
What makes wine work for you in your neck of the woods. That's what I'd like to know.
Because, now, your neck of the woods and my neck of the woods are the same neck of the woods.
Please check back often. I fully expect to find great things!