Plants I'm Growing: Ribes Aureum (Golden Flowering Currant) 2009

First blossoms today on the golden currant at the back of the house, near the beehive--earlier than usual, I think--but it's been warm and everything is ahead of the season. I'm afraid the fruit trees will bloom early this year and then get hit by frost. We'll see.

Miscellaneous: Ice storms

I keep hearing about ice storms in Kentucky and widespread power outages. I wonder how far north the severe weather has extended? Is southern Ohio safe?

Miscellaneous: Super Bowl XLIII (2009)

It has come to my attention that tomorrow is Super Bowl day.

As that statement should make plain, it's been a long time since I paid much attention to football on a regular basis (think back to the Oakland Raiders in the days of Ken Stabler, Cliff Branch, and Fred Biletnikoff: Even then, I wasn't a Raiders loyalist, I just appreciate a fine passing game, and those guys had one). Still, I felt really out of it when I heard a couple of days ago that the Steelers would be playing the Arizona Cardinals tomorrow. Wait a minute. Isn't that the St. Louis Cardinals? And the Cardinals are a baseball team, aren't they? Well, whoever is playing and whatever sport they choose to play, I hope they have a good passing game. I'll be watching. 

Tidbits: Fruit

Does a glass of wine count as a serving of fruit?

Books I'm Reading: Orchestration

I just finished Walter Piston's Orchestration (Norton, 1955). I can't say I absorbed it all, but I' m very impressed by Piston as a writer. Rarely does someone discuss any subject with the kind of economy and clarity he achieves in this book. I see now why it is still recommended after more than half a century. I must read more about basic music theory before going on to Piston's other two books (Harmony and Counterpoint), but I suspect they, too, will eventually make for good reading--for the intellectual exercise, if nothing else.

I've wanted to write music for decades, having first tried at college in St. Louis (1978-79). I got nowhere because I had no feedback. I couldn't hear any of my ideas. Once or twice I bullied musical friends into playing for me something I had painstakingly worked out on a recorder or in one of the music department's piano cubicles (usually no more than a measure or two), but it was hard to impose on people, and hand-written notation was so cumbersome for me that I abandoned my efforts quickly. It wasn't until 1993 that I tried again. In that year I bought my first computer, a Macintosh Centris 650, for what seems in retrospect an astounding $4,800. I took the plunge because I happened to see the machine set up in a music store connected to a digital keyboard and equipped with Performer 2.0 and a Proteus Plus orchestral synthesizer. I bought the lot. I remember the rush of excitement on first hearing massed strings coming out of the speakers. While I put the computer to good use, the rest of the equipment languished. I never wrote anything. Performer was so poorly designed for my purposes, that I gave up almost as soon as I started. 

Last August, I discovered Sibelius (not the composer--already an old friend, figuratively speaking--the software). Setting aside judgments about the quality of my earliest forays, I was writing within minutes of first launching Sibelius. While I'm now frustrated by difficulties using the program for more advanced notation (glissandi, for example) and by the quality of the playback sounds available to me, with Sibelius I can experiment and immediately hear what I've written. I push a button and the computer plays. I do more in an hour than I achieved in 30 years of vaguely thinking about composition. I find it very pleasurable to write.

I'm not much interested in writing for large ensembles. Chamber music interests me. I want to write short pieces for chamber ensemble--carefully constructed tone poems, each one an attempt to encapsulate one of the traumas that pepper life and to thereby render the trauma harmless. These encapsulations are effective as therapy to the extent that they're expressive of the underlying emotions--a powerful incentive to write something that feels genuine. My skills and my ambition are in different leagues, but I'm learning, quickly, and I know that being overambitious is a better way to get something done than is starting with circumscribed expectations. At the very least, this study will continue to make me a better listener of music. I've begun taking composition classes with Dr. Charles Sepos, known around here as a composer, radio personality, and teacher. Stay tuned.

Pun intended.

[Update: I quickly abandoned the lessons, but I continue to write music.]

Birds I'm Watching: Robins Harassing Acorn Woodpeckers

On the way home from walking my son to school today--often the highlight of my day--I noticed a group of Robins chasing a couple of Acorn Woodpeckers and then harassing them in the upper reaches of an oak tree. I don't know what avian faux-pas prompted the censure, but it was odd to watch. Usually I see crows harassing hawks, high overhead, but I've never seen Robins doing much aggressive--although I suppose worms feel badly treated when pursued by Robins.

There have been many more Robins in the area this year than usual (perhaps reflecting unusually cold weather further north), and there have been more Acorn Woodpeckers than usual as well since this past autumn. The latter live in extended family groups. I've had the impression that a new group has been checking out the area around my house for its possible use as a home territory. That might be interesting. Perhaps they will start nesting here in the spring.

Next time you're in Santa Rosa, go to Paradise Ridge Winery, off of Fountaingrove Parkway. Go for the view from the deck, but don't miss the giant oak outside the front door of the tasting room. It's home to a large colony of Acorn Woodpeckers. It's not uncommon to see ten or 15 at once flitting through the branches. The trunk is riddled with holes, most stuffed with acorns.  

Food I'm Eating: What are these?

These bright green globes are one of the most delicious olives I've ever tasted. They are called Castelvetrano olives, after their place of origin, in Sicily (near the western tip of the island, but towards the southern shore--on the opposite side from Palermo). Available recently at our local Whole Foods store and at Oliver's, up the road. These have a wonderful mild flavor. There has been some variation from batch to batch, but at their best, they have a distinctive texture--firm and meaty--yet, somehow, they manage to be rich and buttery at the same time. Delicious. I've been eating far too many of these lately.

Wines I'm Making: Rosé Label Finished

Here's a shot of the label I designed today for the 2008 Sangiovese rosé made from the vines in our backyard. The wine turned out a very pretty salmon red this year. I think it looks good with the gold capsule. The wine is delicious. Wish you could taste it.... 

Only 1.25 cases made--very limited availability, very expensive. If you have to ask, you can't afford it. Actually, it's so exclusive, it's not for sale. If you want a taste, you have to come visit.

We call our "winery" (the garage) "Clos du Tal," a play on "Clos du Val," but more than just a pun. A "clos" is a walled vineyard of the sort common in the northern Côte d'Or (the heart of Burgundy--at least from a winemaking perspective). Many of these walled vineyards in Burgundy have been owned by monasteries, and I believe the word "cloister" is related. "Tal," of course, is short for Talcroft. So, the name means "walled vineyard of the Talcrofts." As our vines happen to be planted behind a stone wall, that is quite fitting. We call the vineyard (all 32 vines) "Stone's Throw Vineyard," first, because it's a stone's throw from the house, and, second, because there are an awful lot of stones around here. We live on top of an abandoned basalt quarry. Next time you see Alfred Hitchcock's Shadow of a Doubt, pay attention to the Santa Rosa train station. It was built with rock from what is today our front yard (the station building still stands in the old part of downtown Santa Rosa). According to Press Democrat articles, much of San Francisco was paved at one time with cobblestones made from this rock. The Hotel La Rose across the street from the old station building and a number of other notable structures in Santa Rosa were also built from the basalt quarried on this hill.  

Tidbits: John Updike--RIP

John Updike died today.

Photographs I'm Making: iPhone Camera Nudes

I spent Saturday morning working with a new model. Just experimenting, I did some shots of her with my iPhone as she moved around the studio. The low-tech faults of the phone made for some interesting images. I post one here as an example. This is not especially good. It's just one that isn't in much danger of being censored. I see possibilities here, though. Something about the images reminds me of Franz Marc--the arc-like lines, I suppose. I now look forward to an entire session of shooting iPhone nudes sometime soon.

Movies I'm Watching: Battleground and Bottle Shock

One reason I saw so many birds in the yard last Friday was that I had a day of no work, the morning of which I  spent relaxing on the sofa with a book, a pair of binoculars, and the TV remote control (remember when you had to walk over to the TV to change the channel, and there were only six channels, and you didn't have to pay for anything?). In between a few more chapters of Orchestration and watching the birds, I took in an old film called Battleground (1949; Directed by William Wellman; starring Van Johnson, Ricardo Montalban, and others).

Ordinarily, I wouldn't have bothered, but Orchestration was beginning to feel very abstract--mainly because I can't hear the music on the page the way some people can--and bird watching is a slow-paced sport. Also, a quick look in Halliwell's movie guide revealed that the film had won a couple of Oscars and that it was wildly successful in its day. So, I began to wonder why I'd never heard of it. Turned out to be nothing special--which answers that question. The story of the 101st Airborne at Bastogne during the Battle of the Bulge has been more eloquently told. Still, it was mildly entertaining. Its showing was part of a tribute to Ricardo Montalban following his death last week. He's made better films. I'm afraid I will always remember him gesturing at a grotesque automobile made by Chrysler in the 1970s saying something about "soft Corinthian leather" which turns out to have meant nothing, really. It didn't come from Corinth and Corinth was never known for leather, as far as I know. More to the point, it wasn't even leather. It was vinyl. I remember Corinth for its canal, the view from Acrocorinth, and the well-preserved latrine in the remains of the old city, kindly brought to my attention by the Blue Guide to Greece.

Forgive me. Back to the movies. 

Last thing I saw in a theater was Bottle Shock (2008; Directed by Randall Miller; starring Alan Rickman, and others). I happen to live about a seven-minute walk from one of the best movie houses in the North Bay Area, perhaps the best--The Rialto Lakeside--across from Howarth Park in Santa Rosa. I've taken to going alone from time to time in the past year or so, thinking it a shame not to take advantage of the place more often, and drawn there also by something else--ghosts perhaps? I rather like sitting in an almost empty theater. I enjoy the space. The main reason I got out of the habit of seeing movies on the big screen was my long stay in Japan, where it was often standing room only. For standing room you had the privilege of paying the equivalent of about $20 a ticket--and that was years ago. To sit down it cost about $35. The Color Purple--released in 1985, I believe--was the last thing I saw in a Japanese movie theater. Coincidentally, I went to college in St. Louis with one of the actors in that movie, but that's another story. 

Bottle Shock was entertaining enough on the surface, but it was ruined for me by the liberties the screenplay took with the facts. The writers would have done just as well to make up a plot out of thin air--which is almost what they did. Bottle Shock purports to be the story of the famous Judgment of Paris. No, not the old Greek story you've seen depicted in paintings if you frequent art galleries, but the story of the 1976 Paris wine tasting that first opened the eyes of many to the quality California wine was beginning to attain at that time. It was done blind. Respected French judges shocked themselves and many others by choosing wines from California as the best (in both the red and white wine categories), passing over famed French wines. The filmmakers seem to have thought the true story wasn't good enough to hold an audience's attention, so they augmented, and added, and exaggerated--as they so often do. 

In a nutshell, Steven Spurrier wasn't the sourpuss portrayed by Rickman; his partner was left out of the film entirely; Spurrier didn't break down on the road and happen to be helped by one of the story's main characters; the wines weren't carried to France by accommodating strangers at the airport; the winning white wine wasn't sold off to be dumped and then rescued dramatically by the woman at the bar (in reality the winemakers understood fairly quickly what had happened to the wine--the "bottle shock"; there was no sexy blonde intern at the winery to provide the love interest (is that still required in every movie?); the tasting was in a hotel (not outdoors); and Bo Barrett didn't attend the tasting. Oh well, they tried. I guess.

If you want to know what really happened, read George M. Taber's book, The Judgment of Paris: California vs. France and the Historic 1976 Paris Wine Tasting that Revolutionized Wine (Scribner, 2006). The story needs no augmentation. 

Miscellaneous: Mac Virus Hits the Internet

In the form of news, that is. Hate to be smug, but I think it's hilarious that a computer virus believed to have affected 20,000 machines worldwide (oh my!) is news. That doesn't scare me much, it makes me glad to be a Mac user. In 15 years of using these computers, I've never seen a virus. During the six months I ran Windows at home in order to use voice recognition software that was, until recently, unavailable on the Mac, I had to re-install the system twice because of malicious software. They say Mac bugs will become more common. I hope that's not true. It would be a pity to ruin something generally so elegant. 

Words I'm Writing: First Lines

From time to time, the beginnings of a book pop into my head. Here's another one.

I ran into Alise's mother in the supermarket. She was cradling a carton of eggs in one hand. She had lifted the lid and was peering inside, checking for broken shells as she walked through the produce section. I had been looking at apples.

I hadn't seen Alise's mother in three decades, but I knew who she was. I could see her daughter in her--the same mass of wavy (now-silver) hair, the same slightly rounded tip to her nose, the same compact yet generously proportioned figure. I walked over to her, almost walking into her. I blurted something. What I think I said was "I hope Alise understands my silence--that my silence is not indifference--that it's because I feel so strongly. It's because...." 

I wanted to say more, but I couldn't.

It was a most natural thing to have said--or so it seemed to me. Still, it was incomplete and therefore vulnerable to misunderstanding yet again; it was one small link in a chain of thoughts that had been running through my head for months, never with any opportunity of expression. I imagine it came as something of a bolt from the blue to Alise's mother. She could not possibly have known who I was or what I was talking about.

I left the store quickly. I was halfway to my car when I realized I had walked out with an apple clenched in one hand. It had a small round sticker on it with the name of the apple variety. The sticker read "Pearl." I got into my car. I set the apple on the passenger seat and drove home. I next remember sitting at the living room table holding the apple again. I had no idea what to do with it. I couldn't take it back to the store. I couldn't throw it away. I wanted desperately to eat it, but I couldn't do that either. It was not mine to eat. I walked out into the garage, apple in hand. After some thought, I finally dropped it quietly into a box of old letters from Alise, hoping it might keep there, dormant, incorruptible.

Tidbits: Juggling

I'm trying to remember how to juggle: The mandarin oranges are suffering terribly.

Birds I'm Watching: Yellow-rumped Warbler

Saw a yellow-rumped warbler in the garden today, puffing up his feathers to keep warm in the rain. This is the only type of warbler I've ever seen in the yard. The last time I recorded one was five years ago to the day--January 23, 2004. A very showy, if nervous bird. There was a lot of activity generally today.

Lesser goldfinches and American goldfinches were eating rosemary seeds and appeared to be taking nectar from the flowers by pinching them off at the base and sucking. Sparrows--I couldn't decide what kind of sparrows--and house finches (including a pair of the orange variant) were plucking seeds from the coral bark maple. All the birds were stealing manzanita blossoms and presumably getting nectar from them, but they were giving as much attention to the fallen blossoms as they were to those on the tree (Arctostaphylos densiflora "Sentinel"), and--somewhat annoyingly--the same birds were plucking unopened buds from the pink flowering plum tree (Prunus bleiriana) on the other side of the yard. There were quite a few seagulls flying around as well--which usually is a reliable predictor of bad weather around here (they move in from the coast, to the west). It has rained most of the day.

Miscellaneous: Amusing Web Site

Ran across an interesting Web site this morning, the Idée Labs site. It has tools that showcase technologies that match images by their "alikeness." One section allows you to choose from a color palate. Your color selections are then used to call up a random selection of images from Flickr or a stock photo database that use the colors you've selected. Feeling blue? Choose blues. In the pink? Choose pinks. Give it a try. Above are the first fifty photos selected for me using a suite of pinks and yellows I chose.

Plants I'm Growing: Iberis (Candytuft) and Aloes

Iberis, or candytuft, started blooming today. I've come to really like this plant. It stays a deep, vibrant green throughout our hot, dry summers and blooms in the middle of winter, while most everything else is dormant. 

Two of the three aloes I recently added to the garden as supposedly frost-tolerant species have more or less succumbed to the cold snap of a week or two ago. All the leaf tips of Aloe mudenensis have turned brown and shriveled (the plant may survive), and Aloe distans has gone pale and mushy. So far, A. pratensis is holding its own. Assuming it survives unscathed, it will swell the ranks of the aloes that I know can be grow unprotected outdoors in the 95405 zip code area. The stalwarts are (roughly in order of hardiness) A. striatula, A. aristata, A. buhrii, A. nobilis,  A. brevifolia, and A. polyphylla, probably all native to high-altitude habitats in South Africa. A. buhrii, has done especially well (see photo). Two or three other species survive with protection, but I like to let the climate choose the plants; if it can't survive without coddling, I let it go and try something else. I do my best to avoid plants with no hope of survival. I have a shipment of a few other new Aloe species on the way. Stay tuned.... 

Finally, some real rain today.

Wines I'm drinking: Carménère (Follow-up)

I recently wrote in these pages about three Carménère wines I tasted with friends (you may want to start with that post). The tasting fueled my curiosity. I quickly located another five 100% Carménère wines from Chile at Beverages and More. Tasting notes follow. My post of January 4 (linked above) gives some background information about this intriguing grape.

2007 Natura Valle Colchagua Carménère 

Very, very deep blackish red. Darkest of the five wines. Strongly scented. Attractive right off the bat. Citrus scents, leather, roasted meat, graphite. Not much overt fruit, but a hint of raspberry with a little time. Later seemed more like black raspberries and a little oak became apparent. Crisp and fresh on the palate. Rich, good body, good acid as well, and has quite a long finish for a wine in this price range. Nice chewy, grainy tannins on the finish. With some air, gained an interesting, slightly raisiny flavor. Gained a nice core of restrained fruit. Very tasty. The best of the five wines in my view. (Beverages and More, $9.99, $6.99 with members discount card)

2007 Cono Sur Valle Colchagua Carménère 

Medium-deep blackish purple. A bit thin at the edge. Floral, perfumed scents. Lily-like scent. Roasted meat. Something reminiscent of a wool rug (reminded me of my days selling oriental carpets). Rather closed on the palate. A bit nondescript. No obvious faults, but very closed still. On the tart side--probably good with rich meat dishes. Grainy, gritty tannins on the finish. With a little time, the wine opened up to reveal citrus scents. Slowly gained in length and body, but still quite closed. Needs time. I tasted all five wines again the following day. This was still tight, but really not bad at all. Will be quite drinkable with a little patience. Probably my second choice among the five--but see the notes on the Explorador wine. (Beverages and More, $8.99, $6.99 with members discount card)

2005 La Playa Valle Colchagua Block Selection Estate Reserve Carménère

Similar in color to the above wine. Very different on the nose, though. Scents of passion fruit, vanilla, and perhaps lime. Meaty scents as well. A bit flat at first on the palate. Not a lot of fruit. Fine, grainy tannins again. Fairly short, but comes back with a certain lingering spiciness at the back of the tongue. The initial impression it left was rather austere. This wine developed a nice chocolatey scent and more apparent acidity on the palate with time, but remained rather unchanged even the following day. (Beverages and More, $8.99, $7.99 with members discount card)

2006 Casillero del Diablo Rapel Valley Carménère

Very deep purplish black, but not quite as deeply colored as the Natura wine. A hint of mint and the scent of wool rugs again. Later meaty scents and something floral that I couldn't pin down. Vanilla scents. Oak. Light-bodied, but balanced on the palate. Pleasant fruit, bright acidity, light tannins. Moderate length. Attractive subtle sweetness on the finish. Not a lot of up-front fruit, but more immediately approachable than either the Cono Sur or La Playa wines. Later strong scent of leather and oak scents more pronounced. Light, but tasty in a delicate, easy sort of way. Still later the oak scents seemed even more pronounced and I began to detect a hint of lime. Overall impression is of light-weightedness. I have also tasted the 2007 version of this which had more character--reminiscent of boysenberries, milk chocolate, and roses. The 2007 had better fruit as well, with a smooth chocolatey finish. (Beverages and More, $7.99, $5.99 with members discount card)

2007 Explorador Central Valley Carménère 

Medium-deep purple. Rather closed nose but with a little mint and citrus. Smelled noticeably alcoholic, which made it seem a trifle out of balance, but, at 13.5%, this wasn't the strongest of the five wines (the Natura is 14%, the Casillero del Diablo 13.8%, although label values have to be taken with a grain of salt. I think the label percentage only has to be within 1.5 points of the actual alcohol level. Wine producers use that latitude for a variety of reasons). Light and grapey on the palate. Not a lot of tannin. Seemed fairly short, but with nice suggestions of raisins on the finish. Also a slight, attractive bitterness that reminded me of Valpolicella. Had what seemed a masked core of fruit likely to come forward with time. This wine had changed more than any of the others on the following day. I kept coming back to this one. With air, it gained a balanced sweet fruitiness on the palate that was very attractive. I liked this about as well as the Cono Sur wine. I would buy it again.  (Beverages and More, $7.99, $6.99 with members discount card)

Having recently tasted these five wines, the 2007 Casillero del Diablo wine, the three wines of the earlier tasting and the Carménère rosé mentioned in my January 4 post, I can say that Carménère is capable of good things at very attractive prices. The wines all seemed to be marked by distinctly meaty, leathery scents. The other characteristic they shared was finely-grained, almost gritty tannins on the finish. Wines to explore further.  

Words I'm writing: Haiku

Scent of wet asphalt

Brings back Ohio summer heat

Raindrops on the drive

Plants I'm growing: Prunus mume (Japanese flowering plum)

The first bud on our Japanese flowering plum opened today, on an overcast morning promising rain. I hope it pours. 

The cherry blossom gets all the attention as a blossom for viewing, but I've always preferred the plum for its wonderfully spicy scent, its compactness, its reserve. The flowering cherry seems a bit vulgar by comparison. 

Miscellaneous: President Obama (2)

The word "president" before any new last name always takes time to get used to, but I already like the sound of "President Obama" better than I did the sound of "President Bush."

It's official now. President Obama.

I wonder how long it will take our new president to stop talking about "this campaign." He speaks as if he's still stumping against Hillary. I suspect it hasn't quite sunk in yet--even at the White House. 

Plants I'm Growing: Daphne odorata

The first Daphne odorata blossoms opened in the garden today, as if to greet the new president. Buds on Prunus mume, the wonderfully fragrant Japanese flowering plum behind the house, are swollen and about to burst, probably tomorrow. 

Miscellaneous: President Obama

Just back from a weekend of skiing at Squaw Valley, Lake Tahoe. Ordinarily I'd have something to say about that, but my mind is on the inauguration tomorrow. Seems hard to believe that in less than 10 hours Mr. Bush (I've never been able to call him President Bush) will be gone. And good riddance. I will have to get up early tomorrow to see anything of the events before the actual ceremony--because of the time difference. You people in Washington will see more in real time than we will on the West Coast.

How many millions will attend? I would like to have gone to Washington, but it would have been pointless. I would have been distracted and far away. I would have spent my time searching through unknown faces in vast crowds. What would the chances have been of finding a familiar face among them? One in a million or two, I suppose. Stranger things have happened, though, much stranger.

Anyway, I wish him well. I expect to be disappointed--it's in the nature of things--but it's a pleasure just to think that we will have a thoughtful, articulate, intelligent person in the White House for the first time in years.

Books I'm Reading: Second Nature

I finished Michael Pollan's Second Nature over the weekend. Have moved on to Walter Piston's textbooks Orchestration, Harmony, and Counterpoint--all over my head at the moment, but I hope something useful rubs off. If nothing else, they'll look good on the bookshelves when I get frustrated enough to shelve them in disgust--although I have no idea where they'd fit. Too many books, never enough shelves.

Pollan is always a good read. This book is a very personal look at what gardens mean to the author, to people today, and to select figures out of the past. I had never thought of gardens as a political statement before. Pollan set me to thinking about that. I've come to no useful conclusions yet, but I'll never look at a lawn the same way again--which is not to say that I'd never contemplated the meaning of a lawn before. Here, in desiccated California, a lawn has come to seem a faintly arrogant extravagance to me. One of the first things we did when we moved into this house was to remove the lawn and replace it with thyme and rocks. Quite a few aloes have crept in among the rocks since then--all plants that tolerate drought. When I was growing up in Brooklyn, lawns weren't part of my daily experience. Asphalt and concrete were. In Ohio, my mother's house had a wonderful wide lawn. Lawns make more sense in a place with summer rain. 

On a less serious note was an analysis of the social and political slants of  plant catalogs (in one of the eerie coincidences that have been haunting me for the past year or so, three fat seed and bulb catalogs arrived in my mailbox the morning I finished reading the book--from companies I've not dealt with in years--as if on cue). 

Pollan's descriptions are hilarious. I found myself laughing out loud at his parade of catalog classes--from the very conservatively augmented East Coast catalogs with their white roses and lilies-of-the-valley to the voluptuous (but somehow still upper crust) catalogs of the southern growers, to the anything-goes-and-bigger-is-definitely-better catalogs still targeting the everyman of an America that hardly exists anymore, to the save-the-planet socially conscious catalogs of the West Coast (and elsewhere). Recommended.   

About This Blog

I've decided to add a new category to my blogging (I do this cheerfully, with enthusiasm even, as if someone is reading what I write). Tidbits: A category for random thoughts of a line or two that don't seem to need elaboration.

Plants I'm Growing--First Blooms (2010): Cyclamen Coum

Cyclamen coum blossomed today. It gets the honor of being the first new flower of 2009--at least in this small corner of the world. I planted a drift of these under the coral bark maple behind the house two years ago. Those that survived have taken hold and begun to spread slowly. This is a beautiful little plant that seems unjustly neglected to me. It has variegated heart-shaped leaves and a tiny blossom that doesn't overpower the plant the way the oversized blossoms of ordinary cyclamen do. The blossom of coum is no bigger than a dime. It appears to be native to the Black Sea coast from Bulgaria to Georgia and south into Turkey, Syria, Lebanon, and Israel. That explains why it survives our summer dry period. In the first year, I thought I'd lost every one I planted, but new leaves appeared once the winter rains began. A very pretty and cheerful flower that is most welcome at this time of year. I'm guessing that Daphne (Daphne odorata--buds are visible in the second photo here) will be next to bloom, followed by our Japanese flowering plum--two of the most wonderfully fragrant plants in the garden. I wish you could smell them.

(My Cyclamen coum plants are from Cottage Gardens, which has stores in Petaluma and Bennett Valley. I haven't seen this plant elsewhere, but no doubt it's available on line.)

Plants I'm Growing: Aloes

At year-end I visited the Ruth Bancroft Garden, in Walnut Creek, a small but interesting collection of cacti and succulents. A lot of plants were covered for frost protection (a disappointment), but quite a few aloe varieties were blooming. There was a small selection of plants for sale. I added three frost hardy (I hope) new species to the garden--Aloe pratensis, Aloe mudenensis, and Aloe distans. Staff member Brian Kemble kindly provided me a list of the more hardy aloes. His list can be found various places on the Web, for example on the site of the San Luis Obispo Botanical Garden (the link is to the list, not the garden itself). A pleasant detour. (The photo shows a large Opuntia, or prickly pear, with a persimmon tree in the background--no aloes.)

Wines I'm Drinking: Carménère

Last night friends and I blind tasted three Chilean wines made from the Carménère grape, a fairly obscure variety that interests me for its history and the quality of the inexpensive (so far) wine it makes. We started the evening with a rosé made from Carménère, called (oops). Yes, (oops). Don't let the silly name, the gimmicky packaging, or the ridiculous price ($2.99 at our local Grocery Outlet) fool you. This is well made, delicious wine. It is a very pale orange-pink. It smells of honey and strawberries and has real presence on the palate--which is a bit startling given the pale color. It tastes vaguely like honey, but it is quite dry and crisp with acid. It lingers for a long time on the tongue, finishing with a hint of spicy prickle. I seem to have bought the store out of its supply, but don't hesitate to buy this if you see it and happen to be a fan of rosé, like me. 

Why (oops), you ask? Wine enthusiasts probably know the story by now, but Carménère is Bordeaux's "lost grape." Once grown in that famous region, it appears to have been entirely neglected during the slow recovery from phylloxera (the aphid-like root louse that devastates vines that have no resistance to it) that began late in the 19th century. No one seems to know exactly why it wasn't replanted (I'm still doing research, but the most obvious explanation would be low yield relative to the more familiar Bordeaux grape varieties*). 

Carménère, once counted among the noble grapes of the Bordeaux blend, alongside Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Merlot, Petit Verdot, and Malbec, apparently died out in France. Cuttings were alive and well and making wine in Chile, however, although these were confused there with Merlot (grape varieties can be very difficult to sort out). Recently, scientists have determined that a significant fraction of Chile's Merlot acreage is actually Carménère. Oops!--and thus, the name of our rosé. It is indeed a mystery to me why the variety was allowed to die out in Bordeaux. It appears to make excellent wine. At least in the Chilean examples, it seems to be consistently more interesting than indifferently made Merlot. The best of the Trader Joe's cheapies we tasted last night (at only $4.99 a bottle) was a cut above typical California Merlots that routinely sell for four times the price or more (your experience may be different). At any rate, this is a variety well worth exploring.  We tasted the following wines. Brief tasting notes follow. 

    

2006 (oops) Valle Central Rosé of Carménère (Grocery Outlet, $2.99)

2005 El Toqui Rapel Valley Carménère Reserva (Trader Joe's, $4.99)

2005 Tierra Salvaje Maule Valley Carménère (Trader Joe's $5.99)

2007 Panilonco Colchagua Valley Carménère Reserve (Trader Joe's $3.99)

2005 El Toqui Rapel Valley Carménère Reserva

Unanimously chosen by our group as the best of the three red wines. Excellent and recommended. A steal at $4.99 a bottle. Deep medium red (not tending either toward purple or garnet). Scents of butter and butterscotch at first. Distinctly meaty scents as well, tending toward leather with more air and time. Something suggestive of fig jam and dark berries. Later got hints of bacon, cayenne pepper, and rose water on the nose. Very interesting. Soft tannins on the palate. A bit closed at first, but opened up to reveal a nice core of concentrated fruit and leather again. Elegant, well balanced, and delicious. While this may be a bit too reserved to appeal to people raised on California fruit bombs, it is delicious wine, in my view. 

2005 Tierra Salvaje Maule Valley Carménère

Paler than the first wine and tending a bit more toward garnet in color. Quite closed at first but scents suggestive of roasted meat, leather, and blueberries develop. Distinctly meaty on the palate--roasted meat. Light tannins. Less body than the first wine. Moderate length. More tannin on the finish. Didn't evolve much in the course of the evening. Good, but not especially exciting wine. 

2007 Panilonco Colchagua Valley Carménère Reserve

Most tasters liked this wine the least. Deep purple-red, but not as dark and inky as some Carménère I've seen. Good fruit on the nose. Very strong vanilla scent. Hints of honey and raw beef. Blueberries. Tastes of vanilla, too. Light fruit on the palate. Moderate tannins. Quite drinkable, but overall lacking in body and interest. Tastes thin compared with the other two. After a while it began to develop the banana-like scent typical of Beaujolais Nouveau and some citrus notes. Reminded me of the wines of Cahors in its somewhat austere, tannic, citrusy aspects. 

I'll be hitting Trader Joe's today to buy a case of the El Toqui wine.

[Update: Just back from Trader Joe's. Got my wine. Next door, at Beverages and More, I found five more Carménère wines. I couldn't resist. Stay tuned for more notes.]

[More notes on Carménère wines]

*Jancis Robinson notes in her Guide to Wine Grapes (Oxford University Press, 1996) that Carménère is susceptible to coulure (a failure of the grapes to develop after flowering), which causes low yields. It can also be noted that the grape is a late ripener, which may simply have made it inconvenient to work with. She points out that Grand Vidure is a synonym, used by Carmen in Chile, a company that has been a pioneer in the Carménère revival. In her more complete Vines, Grapes, and Wines (Mitchell Beazley, 1986) she notes other synonyms: Carmenelle, Cabarnelle, Grand Carmenet, and Carbouet. Is it any wonder that wine confuses people? Carménère seems to be planted in small quantities also in northeastern Italy (Colli Orientali). 

Plants I'm Growing

In order to pursue my idea of telling time by the blooming of plants in the garden, I suppose it's necessary to know what is already blooming as of January 1, 2009, so I took a stroll around the yard this morning to see what was in flower. None of these will count until they have finished their current show and start to bloom again, late in the coming year. Alyssum, calendulas, at least two types of manzanita, woolly blue curls (Trichostema lanatum), Coleonema (breath of heaven), New Zealand tea tree, Teucrium fruticans (bush germander), native yarrow, cyclamen, two types of camellia, narcissus, geum, bush honeysuckle (which blooms as the rainy season starts), Mexican marigold (although most of the blossoms have now been blasted by the frost), and a few stray geraniums were all in bloom--a surprising variety. Oh, and rosemary. Musn't forget rosemary--two colors: one standard, the other a pale lavender mother of pearl.  

Edit: I have noticed that Spirea and Westringia (both the white and the lavender flowered varieties) are blooming. I don't know if I missed these in my year-end census or if they have opened up since the start of the new year. These, too, will have to be included in their next bloom cycle. 

Wines I'm Making: 2008 Rosé Bottled

Bottled our 2008 Sangiovese rosé yesterday. It's turned out very well. This is the third year we've made rosé from the Sangiovese vines in the backyard. In the past, the rosé has been good, but everything seems to have come together this year. There is more fruit and body (in part because the vines are older), the wine is crisper (more acid), and the alcohol level is a bit higher. I'm very pleased. Now I have to design this year's label.