Step aside California, Virginia has an Orange county, too; though, unlike its west coast counterpart, our OC is not full of beautiful people making each other miserable, but beautiful countryside, and enough wine to keep anyone happy. The area around Charlottesville is one of the fastest growing regions in Virginia winemaking, and to the northeast, in beautiful Orange county, is where a lot of it began. Before anyone had any confidence in the ability of Virginia to yield great wine, passionate winemakers staked their claims here, with several still thriving more than thirty years later. Here are my experiences at some of the wineries in and around Orange county.

Barboursville Vineyards

Even if you are not a wine lover, but say, an armchair historian, Barboursville has plenty to offer. Just down the hill from the grand tasting room and winery facilities are the Octagon Ruins, the remnants of a 19th Century estate designed by Thomas Jefferson himself. Afterwards, the food lover may retire to the award winning Palladio Restaurant, which offers a small but constantly rotating menu of Italian and southern cuisine of the highest caliber. For the organically minded, Palladio is a dream; all their meat is sourced from the highly regarded Polyface Farms, and many herbs and vegetables are harvested from the adjoining garden. I have only eaten there once, and I have to say the meal was excellent, but very leisurely — plan to be seated for several hours, and be sure to make reservations several weeks in advance.

As lovely as the ruins and restaurant may be, the main show at Barboursville is most certainly the wine. Barboursville offers a brilliant array of some 20 wines, including such Italian classics as Pinot Grigio, Barbera and Nebbiolo. Winemaker Luca Paschina, informed by his Piedmontese background, produces wines of a decidedly Italian character, high in acid and food friendly. For a modest $4 fee (which is waived with wine purchase) the bar offers a sampling of about 16 wines. The whites are universally appealing, and the dry Rose is particularly noteworthy for its balance of strawberry fruit and acid. The reds, too, are all top notch; the Barbera amazes me year after year with its varietally correct cherry and tomato flavors — it actually tastes Italian, a feat no California producer has replicated in my experience.

Undoubtedly the greatest treat of the tasting is the winery's flagship red, the Octagon, an homage to the Ruins and Jefferson's dream of producing world class French style wines in that very region of Virginia. This Bordeaux blend incorporates Merlot, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, and Petit Verdot in the 2004 vintage, the wine's seventh incarnation. On the nose and palate it is classic right-bank Bordeaux, with black currant, coffee, and earth leading to a firm and bitter tannic finish. Though young and a bit expensive at about $40 a bottle, this wine is easily one of the most age worthy in Virginia, and will certainly provide years of pleasure to any wine fan willing to take the chance.

Barboursville Vineyards
17655 Winery Road, P.O. Box 136, Barboursville, VA 22923
(540) 832-3824
Food: Palladio Restaurant — reservations available online, or call (540) 832-7848.
Wine Availability: Widely available in Virginia and DC.

Burnley Vineyards

Burnley will always hold a special place in my heart as a figurative port in the storm. Orange county is vineyard and horse farm country, and as such, is all but bereft of the usual amenities. So when my girlfriend Eliza and I found ourselves driving through the gorgeous countryside, suddenly beset by ravenous hunger and casting about in vain for a Sheetz or a Wawa, we pulled out our Virginia winery map (available for free at most wineries) and hoped for a miracle.

"Well, there's a place called Burnley about seven miles from here"
"Do they have food?"
"It says 'light fare'."
"We'll have to risk it!"

And so we found ourselves driving 50 mph on the highly rural Route 33, stomachs growling. We pulled off the main road, wound up a glorified cow path, and pulled up to the hill set raised ranch that is Burnley Vineyards' tasting room. We rushed inside, eyes shifting and desperate, and practically before we were even greeted set upon the complimentary oyster crackers like wolves.

"Would you like some cheese and a warm baguette?" The man behind the bar asked. "It shouldn't take but 10 minutes." We nodded, embarrassed but grateful.

Partially sated with starch and salt, we spent the time while our bread warmed to sample Burnley's wines. Where its neighbor Barboursville, which was founded in the same year, has gone upscale, Burnley has remained homely. I don't mean this in a negative way — Burnley is homely in the very best sense of the word, from the tiny wood burning stove in the corner, to the screen porch decked out in patio furniture, to the owner's Belgian Shepherd, Cooper (a certified Wine Dog), sniffing about the patrons.

The wines have a similar, honest quality — table wines of fair quality at fair prices. Amongst the usual Chardonnay (which was bad) and Cab Franc (which was good), Burnley offers an assortment of fruit-flavored and spiced wines which, though not likely to impress your more cosmopolitan friends, may make great gifts for that aunt or cousin who drinks Arbor Mist and whom you'd like to introduce to the finer things.

Once our baguette was warm we retired to the porch with it, a bottle of Primitivo (our favorite of the day), and a couple of very nice local cheeses, which we enjoyed thoroughly. Cooper, it must be said, was also a big fan of the cheese — no wonder his coat is so shiny!

Burnley Vineyards
4500 Winery Lane
Barboursville, Va  22923
(540) 832-2828
Food: Bread and cheese available for purchase.
Wine Availability: Limited availability within Virginia.

Stay tuned for part two next week. As always, if you have had notable experiences at any of these wineries or with their wares, please chime in. Oh, and if you have a favorite winery that you think I should visit, I'd love to hear from you!

Pictures courtesy of the respective vineyards' websites. Map courtesy of virginiawines.org.

Consider the screw cap. As far as enclosures go, this little lid has twisted its way into common usage more than any other, so far to the extent that most people rarely go through a day without encountering one. From bottled water to shampoo to extra virgin olive oil, the little bugger is everywhere, and the singular "scrrccck" of capsule separation has become a subconscious signal as familiar as laughter or a sigh. The convenience cannot be denied: where once satisfaction required the use of a tool, instant gratification is available at the turn of a wrist. What better metaphor characterizes contemporary western culture?

I don't mean to sound glib; while there is much to speak against the postmodern culture of "NOW," the screw cap is indeed a wonder of 20th century engineering, and its convenience cannot be discounted. That said, many in the world of wine view the enclosure with ample skepticism. I am daily nonplussed by the number of customers who balk at the suggestion of a screw cap wine; even those staying at local hotels have been known to eschew the convenience for the sake of... Tradition? Prejudice? Who can say?

Critics have been debating Cork v. Stelvin (as the wine screw cap has been more palatably branded) for a number of years. On the one side you have the "If It Ain't Broke, Don't Fix It" camp, which clings firmly to the belief that natural cork works just fine, thank you, and that no other seal allows wine to age as intended. The Screwheads, on the other hand, suggest that there is no evidence to support their opponents' theories, and that, besides, most wine these days isn't meant to be aged in the first place. Each argument has its credence, but to my mind the convenience, preservation, and sanitation inherent in the Stelvin enclosure make it far superior in most contexts and undeserving of the pervasive stigma.

The first point, convenience, is a no brainer: where cork requires the use of a very specific and otherwise useless tool for its extraction, removing a screw cap requires naught but the least bit of physical effort. On top of this, the Stelvin is a boon to the physically handicapped and the arthritic, for whom using even the most ergonomic corkscrew may prove an impossible chore.

While some make the specious argument that wines under Stelvin will not age properly, none may deny that in the short term they are unmatched for preservation. Cork is a material of tremendous elasticity, and as it dries it is prone to shrinkage, which, as I am sure you can surmise, does not bode well for the wine it keeps in place. As such, wine bottles that are stored for any length of time are best kept on their sides, thus ensuring that the cork remains sufficiently moist. Screw cap wines, being kept under an airtight seal, require no such precautions and may be stored in any position for any reasonable length of time without ill effect. Also, even under the best of storage conditions, a wine of youthful character will suffer the slow death of oxidation through cork's microscopic pores; wines under Stelvin, while by no means immortal, will retain their youth a great deal longer.

Finally, the notion of sanitation should be obvious to anyone who has ever purchased a "corked" bottle of wine. For the uninitiated, I offer this scenario:

Imagine you are on a third date, and things are going really well. You and your special friend have just seen that new Judd Apatow movie (no, not that one; that was last week!), and feeling amorous and hungry, you proceed to your place for a little late night wine and cheese [raises eyebrows suggestively]. Upon arrival you bust out that sexy cutting board you picked up at Williams-Sonoma, decked out with an ample spread of brie, prosciutto, and the like. And now, the vino; a 2002 Chassagne-Montrachet, very nice... but so pricey! Amidst idle but suggestive conversation you pull and inspect the cork (no fool you!), and find it to be satisfactory. You pour your friend a healthy dollop (...maybe just a little bit more there...), and gaze longingly into his/her eyes, imagining years of love and lots of little babies, as he/she raises the glass to his/her lips... !!!

"Gah! Dammit, that's my new rug you just spit up on! What's wrong with you?! What, what do you mean? It tastes like what?... well, now that's just inappropriate! No, no, come back, I didn't mean it like that! Don't you dare slam that..." *SLAM!*

That could have been your soulmate, and now it's all over thanks to cork taint...

Okay, well, that may have been a tad melodramatic, but it is a fact that cork has ruined many a great bottle of wine. The real culprit is a compound known as TCA, a nasty little molecule most commonly born of fungi living on the cork prior to bottling. In the best of circumstances the contaminated wine will be limp, lifeless and dull; in the worst, it will taste like a copy of the Post left beneath the porch over the winter. Depending on who you ask, the estimates on TCA's pervasiveness range from as little as 1% to as much as 15% of all bottles of wine under cork; speaking from experience, I can assure you that the reality is much closer to the latter number. The screw cap's greatest gift is that it is exponentially less likely to harbor the rank substance. The feeling of having a much anticipated wine taste of mold and wet cardboard is one I've known far too often, and it is anything but pleasant; that anyone would risk it for reasons of propriety or superficial aesthetics is a mystery to me.

Suffice it to say I am not alone in my feelings about cork taint, and as such international sentiment towards the screw cap has become increasingly positive over the last decade. Though once only found on the likes of Thunderbird and Night Train, thanks to forward thinking winemakers around the world screw caps now cover wines of every type, price, and color. Here are a few of the most commonly available of my favorites:

New Harbor Sauvignon Blanc 2007 (New Zealand)
(About $13 — Widely available)
The Kiwis have latched onto the screw cap like no other people, and as a result over 90% of New Zealand's production is now bottled under Stelvin. The 2007 New Harbor Sauvignon Blanc is typically New Zealand in this, and every other respect. The nose is full of lychee and pine, giving way to a light and fruity palate punctuated by high acidity and a white pepper finish. This is wine is quintessential of the country's style and is well executed — you are unlikely to find as well produced and correct a wine for twice the price.

Domaine de Pouy Vin de Pays des Cotes de Gascogne 2006 (France)
(About $9 — Very common locally)
An old standby in local importer Robert Kacher's vast portfolio, the producers of Domaine de Pouy have wisely decided to go Stelvin this year. This 60% Ugni Blanc, 40% Colombard from the southwest of France has an attractive straw gold color atypical of the blend. The nose is pleasantly light and citrusy, with a subtle floral note in the subtext. On the palate this wine is surprisingly lush and crisp, offering up unobtrusive herbs amongst the melon fruit. This wine has always been a fantastic summer sipper, and is all the better now thanks to its more logical enclosure.

Bonny Doon Le Cigare Volant 2004 (USA)
(About $32 — Widely available)
The first Californian winery to really get behind the screw cap, Bonny Doon has been making a splash with its esoteric wines and innovative marketing for over 20 years. The Cigare Volant is this all-Stelvin winery's send up to Chateauneuf-du-Pape, the greatest wine of the Rhone Valley, France. A blend of some five grapes including Grenache, Syrah and Mourvedre, the wine shows a light purple in the glass, offering up a pretty nose of herbs and dark plum. The Cigare is all vibrant red berry and smoke on the palate, and all in all surprisingly balanced, if perhaps just a bit too tannic on the finish. This wine is a fantastic candidate for the drinker who wants to test out the ageability of screw cap wines in his own cellar.

It seems that every year around this time, some critic or another says that pink wine's heyday has arrived. Well, alright, no critic ever says that, as in the wine world calling a spade a spade is not the modus operandi — in fact, pink wine is almost invariably referred to by the French moniker, rose, as if the French brings a certain class to the drink. (Pink wine is for hobos, rose is fit for Marie Antoinette!) Anyhow, every year I hear this proclamation and expect sales to skyrocket — and every year, I am just a little let down. Sure, the public is warming to it, but too many are still quite put out by the suggestion of a pink wine, whether for fear of ruining their meal on a lark or judgmental looks from friends and loved ones. This is a crying shame, as this much abused and misunderstood pale-redheaded stepchild of the wine world is quite varied in style and often an amazing pair at the table.

Though it looks like a blend of red and white wines, most proper pink wine, Champagne notwithstanding, is no such thing. It is better to think of pink wine as white wine made with red grapes — the major difference from white being that pink wines spend a brief period of time during fermentation in contact with their grapes' dark skins. This period may be as brief as several minutes to as long as 8 hours. During this time (known as maceration) the skins impart their pigments and other compounds to the nascent wine, giving it a color anywhere from blush to salmon to ruby red.

(Speaking of blush, do not confuse "rose" with White Zinfandel, et al. The former is a rather dry but flavorful wine with a storied history and international pedigree — the latter is a sweet but bland concoction born of a successful marketing campaign.)

Pink wine may be found in almost any region where red wine is made, representing a light and refreshing counterpoint to its darker and more esteemed cousin. In northern Italy, dark, dense, almost tannic rosatos are the summer quaff of the Piedmontese. In southeast France, rose may take on an orange hue and have a refreshingly salty edge, making it perfect with the area's famous shellfish. In California intensely fruity, magenta colored, high alcohol pinks are the norm, but by no means the rule.

While there is a pink wine for every season, it is best they are consumed within their own. With the very rare exception, rose is at its finest within the first year of its life — i.e., within the calendar year following the vintage. Right now the 2007s are just trickling in from all over the world, and I've had the pleasure of sampling a few. Here are my favorites thus far:

Domaine Bellevue Touraine Rose 2007 (France)
(About $12 — Common locally)
Made in the Loire region from Cabernet Franc, this light orangish-pink wine is bracingly acidic with a lightly fragrant nose of red berries. Though an ideal back porch quaffer, the bright acidity and light red fruit make this wine a great pair with foods heavy on the cheese and oil — consider this and others of its like next time Mexican food is on the menu.

Domaine de la Petite Cassagne Costieres de Nimes Rose 2007 (France)
(About $10 — Widely available)
Fresh from the southern Rhone valley and brought to you by local importer Robert Kacher, this wine is a perennial favorite of mine. Blended of the traditional varietals Grenache, Syrah, Cinsault and Mourvedre, this deep pink wine explodes from the glass with strawberry and herbs, giving way to a forceful and darker-fruited palate and a slightly chalky/earthy finish. This wine has the heft to make it a great barbecue pink. Next time you are grilling burgers and not relishing the idea of drinking red wine in the springtime heat, give this one a go.

Librandi Ciro Rosato 2007 (Italy)
(About $10 — Widely available)
This bright coral colored pink from Calabria (the "toe" of Italy's "boot") is made from 100% Gaglioppo, a grape not easily found outside the region. Tangy cherry and pepper on the nose give way to bright red fruit, vanilla, and an almost effervescent tingle on the palate. This unique texture and flavor profile make this wine a wonderful match with salty cured meats like prosciutto and salami.

Marques de Caceres Rioja Rosado 2007 (Spain)
(About $10 — Very widely available)
While I am not typically a fan of this winery's ubiquitous Rioja rojo, the rosado this year left me very impressed. Made from the traditional Rioja varietals Tempranillo and Garnacha, this strawberry colored wine has a bright, fruit driven nose of raspberries and flowers, with more pure raspberry on the palate. What I love about this wine is the balance — plenty of fruit throughout, but with enough acidity to keep it from coming off sweet. This is the quintessential wine to pair with a traditional paella, particularly if smoked meats are involved — bright, fruity and cold, this is the perfect foil to saffron and sausage.

Christian Lauverjat Sancerre Rose 2007 (France)
(About $20 — Common locally)
From an appellation renowned for its whites comes this very elegant 100% Pinot Noir rose. Typically light in color for a pink Pinot, this wine is very subtle on the nose, giving up notes of rose, currants, and a hint of mineral, leading up to a very dry palate of berries and straw with a lengthy, tart finish. This understated example of the type is a great match with anything from white fish in a light cream sauce to Chicken Francaise.

The new stuff aside, this is actually a great time of year to pick up some of last year's pink wines at deep discount. As the weather gets warmer and the new vintages are just being released, retailers and wholesalers alike scramble to get the old stuff out of storage in preparation for what's to come, and prices are slashed by as much as half. When shopping for cut rate rose, follow a few basic rules:

1) Go dark! The darker the wine, the more well it has likely held up over the winter months. Avoid the pale stuff and seek out the practically red.

2) Caveat Emptor! If the wine's price seems just too low, it has probably already turned. If you buy a pink wine for $3 a bottle, expect it to be all but vinegar.

3) Get that sucker cold! Even if your discount pink wine is a little tired, if served ice cold it may still make a great evening refresher.

4) Ask the employees! In a market as competitive as this, retailers can't afford to lie to their customers, and nor in most cases do they want to. Ask the salesman outright whether he thinks the wine is up to snuff: 90% of the time, he will be honest.

5) If its gone bad, bring it back! Most wine shops have a fair policy when it comes to returned bottles of bad wine, and will at least give you store credit for the faulty product. Don't abuse this policy and you will likely be given the benefit of the doubt.

Happy Hunting!

More on the pink stuff as the season progresses. In the meantime, if you have been a bit shy about pink wine in the past, I hope that this year you give the old boy a turn. If there is anyone out there with a favorite pink wine, new or old, I'd love to hear your thoughts.

Before I begin, DCFoodies.com would like to congratulate Samantha Cummings, winner of our Savor trivia raffle! We got a great response with over 100 entries, just about half of whom responded with the correct answer, California Common. Samantha's entry was picked at random from amongst all the correct responses. Thank you all for playing!

In 1912 the mayor of Tokyo made a gift to our fair city of 3,000  Japanese Cherry Trees, initiating a local love affair with the trees' annual blossoms for which this town, after corruption and humidity, is most well known. In time with the flowers' height, DC hosts a surfeit of Japanese cultural events, including bonsai displays, kabuki theater, productions of The Mikado (because few people know that Gilbert and Sullivan were born in Okinawa), and the like. I don't know about you, but thoughts of Japan immediately turn my mind to that most esoteric of beverages, sake. This unfortunate drink is oft misunderstood and mischaracterized, relegated to the bottom of wine shop shelves and abused by many a sushi joints' microwave. In point of fact, sake is a fantastic beverage as diverse in style and as nuanced as any wine, and as significant a cultural touchstone as any product of Japanese art.

The most prevalent misunderstanding as regards sake is its characterization as "rice wine," which is an egregious misnomer. Unlike wine, whose base ingredient is possessed of enough simple sugar to allow easy fermentation, sake's main ingredient, rice, needs be broken down by outside agents before it may be set upon by yeast. In this, sake is actually a much closer relation to beer, though where the grain that makes the base of our favorite brews needs only a simple malting (or, partial germination), sake rice requires a further helping hand.

For fermentation to occur in any circumstance, simple sugar must be present. Where barley and other beer making starch bases are rich in enzymes which aid in breaking down the complex sugars, rice grains are not so pliable. Legend has it that in olden times, entire Japanese villages would gather together near feast days and chew copious amounts of rice and other grains, which they would then spit into large tubs left open to the elements — though they could not have known why, the hypothetical Nipponese primitives had discovered that the chewing action plus saliva and air equaled a kick-ass harvest celebration! In fact, the enzymes in human saliva are some of the most powerful in the animal kingdom, and the villagers' expectorate was interacting with wild yeast in the air to make alcohol! So, it is said, sake was born. (Neat, huh?)

Contemporary producers, of course, are far more gracious when it comes to making sake: they use mold. The wonder spore, when placed in the presence of rice, heat, and water, will begin to break down the starch into dextrose, upon which the yeast is free to act.

The other major inaccuracy harming sake's reputation is the misconception that it is always served hot. In fact, heating sake serves the same purpose that spawned mulled wine and food seasoning — that is, to transform something nasty into something consumable. Before and during World War II, the Japanese were experiencing shortages even greater than those on our own home-front. In the interest of keeping their troops fed and the populous well supplied, sake breweries began adulterating their product with copious amounts of grain alcohol. As the amount of "sake" was often trebled in this process, the result came to be known as "triple sake."  Though this innovative beverage might have been good for the bottom line, it was not exactly palatable, and in order to cover up the foul odor of straight booze, Japanese drinkers would heat the "sake" to the point where it didn't smell like much at all! While triple sake is not easily found on these shores, a low grade, partially augmented product known as futsushu, or "ordinary sake," is legion, and also requires some double-boiler action before it may be choked down.

Most quality sake is made from just four ingredients: rice, water, mold, and yeast. These sakes, called junmai, take on an array of unique flavor characteristics derived from production method, minerals in the water, type of rice and so forth. As such, in order to get the most out of a junmai's ample bouquet, it is best served between slightly cold and room temperature. Junmais may run from intensely sweet to mouth puckeringly dry, and flavors cover the spectrum from berries to grains, vanilla to pepper. Prices vary depending on method and quality, but just as with wine, price does not dictate your level of enjoyment. Also, though sake has not the body to stand up to, say, a porterhouse, food pairing options go far beyond the tuna roll.
 
Look for more on sake down the road. In the meantime, for the novice seeking an intro to sake without a huge initial investment, I suggest picking up a carton of Kuromatsu Hakushika Junmai. Though a bit off-putting in it's 900ml carton, this sake is one of the best I've found for the price, being widely available for less than $15! Chill the carton to near ice cold, then sip the sake as it warms up and evolves, expressing notes of rice pudding, vanilla and umami. Oh, and feel free to invite some friends — I mean, no one can be expected to drink 900ml of sake alone on his first try.

With fuel prices as high as they've ever been, a messed-up environment as evinced by bizarre winter weather, and the decreased competitiveness of our currency, the onus is on us more than ever to think globally and drink locally. We residents of the DC metropolitan area are in a unique position vis a vis this proposition — few regions outside of Napa Valley offer a better wineries-per-square-mile ratio than Virginia wine country. Over 100 wineries strong and growing every year, Virginia winemaking is a boom industry amidst a landscape stricken by stagnation.

Though its reputation is improving, I'm sorry to say that the suggestion of VA wine still leads to many an upturned nose. Now I'll grant you, quality is not superb across the board, but what wine region can honestly make such a claim? If you are one of the deriders, good on you for being skeptical, but propriety demands that I ask you not to knock it till you've tried it — and the best place to try it is at the source! If your travels take you anywhere south or west of the beltway, options abound for the adventurous drinker looking for an excuse for a quick glass, some beautiful scenery, and in several cases, some really good food.

On a recent trip to the south Eliza and I hit the back roads and visited a few of the wineries south of Route 64 between Stauton and Charlottesville. In what I hope is the first in a series, here are my experiences at a few of those places.

Afton Mountain Vineyards

Following convenient signs on the highway, about 6 miles of driving up narrow, hilly country roads brought us to the unvarnished wooden home of Afton Mountain Vineyards. At 960 feet above sea level, Afton produces some of the highest elevation fruit in the state of Virginia; elevation is actually an important facet in grape growing, as higher vineyards keep grapes away from low-lying pollution, allow for sunnier days and cooler nights, and give the eonologist a more difficult but rewarding soil to cultivate. Afton is one of the few wineries of its output (about 5,000 gallons annually) to utilize a gravity flow vinification process, which keeps stress on the grapes to a minimum and yields higher quality juice.

Afton's tasting bar is a quaint affair, tile floored but comfortable, where tasting room staffer Brian (a friendly and knowledgeable guy) offers a selection of about 10 wines to taste. The offerings are eclectic for the state, including such oddballs as Gewurztraminer and Sangiovese, along with the ubiquitous Chardonnay and Cabernet Franc. All the wines were good, if a bit expensive — the Cabernet Sauvignon in particular struck me, being more pleasantly tannic than one usually gets in the area. What surprised me most was that Afton offers a Pinot Noir made from 100% estate-grown grapes, an animal almost unheard of in the Virginia wine menagerie. This wine was not up for sampling, as production is limited to a few dozen cases, but curiosity got the better of me and I bought a bottle, reasoning that I'd blown $20 on much stupider things. I opened the bottle a few days later, prepared for the worst; Virginia's generally moist climate is not conducive to growing the popular grape and few vintners have even tried. Only a few sips in I was rather impressed — a pretty burnt-leaves and raspberry nose, medium body, and good acidity give way to a very interesting woodsy, black-cherry finish. Having none of the green notes or low acidity for which Virginia wine has been condemned, I have to say that this wine was as well made as any Pinot I've had from the US for less than $25.

Afton Mountain Vineyards
234 Vineyard Lane
Afton, VA 22920
540-456-8667
www.aftonmountainvineyards.com
Food: Cheese, crackers and baguettes available for purchase. Scenic picnic area.
Wine Availability: Tasting room, website and wine club; otherwise, limited.

Veritas Vineyard and Winery

Though only a 10 minute drive from Afton Mountain Vineyards, Veritas could not present itself more differently. In the stead of the small brown building offered by its neighbor, Veritas presents a grand estate. With a full wall of dramatic windows, cathedral ceilings and a sweeping green lawn, Veritas' tasting room and environs evoke all the charm of an old style Virginia plantation, without all the reprehensible oppression and such. Inside it's all old wood, rustic furniture and chandeliers, with a huge stone fireplace to boot — small wonder that in such a romantic setting, a couple of our fellow visitors quite suddenly got engaged!

The basic tasting at Veritas is free, with an additional $4 charge for the high end and dessert wines — having heard good things, we decided to try the lot. Veritas' wines across the board may be called uniformly clean, with the new winery's thoroughly modern approach evident in each. The whites were round and full, most having seen a bit more oak than I would have hoped; the Viognier in this was most dissapointing, being a wine I usually characterize as fresh and fruity. The reds were similarly full and oaky, with the exception of the 2006 Claret, a blend of Cabernet Franc and Petit Verdot that was spicy, bright and racy. By far the most impressive of the group was the 2005 Mousseux, a pink sparkler created with the aid of esteemed Champenoise winemaker Claude Thibault. Produced using the labor intensive Method Traditionelle (where the bubble producing second fermentation occurs in the bottle), this 50% Chard, 50% Cab Franc is elegant and trim, featuring fresh strawberry on the nose and a very bright and slightly sweet finish.  While not as toasty as the French stuff, the Mousseux is one of the better Virginian sparklers I've had, and I hope it marks the beginning of great things for this young winery.

Veritas Vineyard and Winery
145 Saddleback Farm
Afton, VA 22920
540-456-8000
www.veritaswines.com
Food: Cheese and crackers at the bar. Full menu by resident chef available for special events. Beautiful picnic space abounds.
Wine Availability: Widely distributed throughout Virginia.

Kluge Estate Winery and Vineyard

A few more miles east on Route 6 and north on Route 20, we were on our way back to the highway with just enough time for a stop off at Kluge, Albemarle county's premier winemaking estate. This gargantuan 2,000 acre facility was founded in 1999 by Patricia Kluge, a woman who has led an... interesting life (I won't get into it here, but read this article and you'll see what I mean). With ten-fold the capital of even her extremely affluent neighbors, Patricia's start in the wine biz was far from typical of the east coast vintner — having brought on the best growers and winemakers money can buy, including the services of superstar consultant Michel Rolland, Kluge's wines quickly gained national renown.

I started out a bit wary of this estate at the get go, and only grew more skeptical as we drove up the wooded hill to the impeccably neat and tidy tasting room. The whole affair seemed out of place for the Virginia winery scene: figuratively in the amount of money that Kluge had been thrown down in this developing wine region, and literally in the form of this cutesy "farmhouse" before me. Though, it had been my morbid curiosity that had brought us out of our way to get there, so in we went.

In appearance the tasting room at Kluge is very reminiscent of those I'd visited in Napa Valley: classy and comfortable in a Disneyesque sort of way, with lots of stuff for sale. The main room is arranged around a display case featuring an array of foods both hot an cold available from the on premise kitchen. Where most tasting rooms feature a bar and a wine-by-wine orchestrated tasting, at Kluge patrons order their food and wine with a cashier and are led to a side room for table service. We ordered a cheese plate (about $8), a bowl of truffled olives (about $4), and two full tastings ($10 each), and were led to a small sunlit table. Our cheese and wine came out promptly, with six wines served in conical plastic cups supported by a large stand — as had been promised, the servings were ample, totaling about two full glasses each. The server took a moment to explain each of the six wines before us, and suggested which might go best with each of our several cheeses. After that, we were left to our own devices.

The wines and cheeses were all good, even great in some cases; of particular note were the olives, which were tasty and made a great palate cleanser with a bit of sparkling wine. The most unusual wine in the mix was the Cru, a fortified Chardonnay aged in Jack Daniels barrels for six months prior to bottling — the spicy/sweet nose and syrupy body did indeed make this a good pair with our blue cheese, though I would have liked a bit more acidity. The Albemarle Simply Red 2004 and Albemarle Rose 2006 were tops with me — both Bordeaux blends showed the French winemaker's soft touch with wood and extraction, leaving the wines elegant and balanced where they could easily have been mawkish and awkward. The estate's flagship New World Red 2004 was also quite impressive, but in need of a few years aging before it really begins to show. We left with full stomachs, a slight buzz, a couple bottles of the Rose, and the knowledge that throwing a lot of money into a project can in fact yield some great things.

Kluge Estate Winery and Vineyard
100 Grand Cru Drive
Charlottesville, VA 22902
434-977-3895
www.klugeestateonline.com
Food: Full menu of light to heavy fare, available until about 3:30 for purchase.
Wine Availability: Widely distributed throughout Virginia, DC and beyond.

Pictures courtesy of the respective vineyards' websites.

Ah, bonjour, gentle reader, on this, the day of love. Forget, if you will, that this feast day commemorates the bloody and violent death of a minor Christian martyr, and try to remember the most important thing of all: you need wine and chocolate, and if you don't have it already, you'd better get moving! Sorry, that was rude. Relax... obviously yours is a relationship built on love and trust; a symbiotic coupling of individuals whose whole is a gestalt much greater than its parts— but hey, a little insurance never hurts, right?

The pairing of wine and chocolate is one of those realms where opinions differ greatly— "Oh, we had Godiva truffles with this Chardonnay, and it was fantastic;" "Nothing pairs with Ghirardelli like 1982 Bordeaux;" "85% cocoa? You gotta go California Cab, man."

Okay, I am usually one of the first to say that when it comes to food and wine pairing, the right wine always comes down to the type you enjoy— don't go for a wine you know you hate simply because its the "proper" thing to do, etc. But chocolate is one of those foods where there is a distinctly right and wrong  direction to go in terms of a match.

First, there is a myth that needs to be dispelled outright: chocolate and Chardonnay do not go hand in hand. In point of fact, chocolate and any dry white wine are never going to be friends, no matter how hard you force it, and they should never share the same table, ever. The problem with dry white wine, regardless of its relative "fruit" level, is that by definition it has two distinct characteristics: it is low in residual sugar and light in body. In even the driest of wines, where the fermentation yeasts have eked every last bit of alcohol from the grapes' ample fructose, a little of that simple sugar remains: this is referred to as the wine's residual sugar. Some wines have lots, like most Californian Zinfandel and Australian Shiraz, whose residual sugar level is often high to the point of literal sweetness. Some have practically none, including most French whites and many Italian reds. Because of the nature of our taste buds, if there is not enough sugar in a wine to compete with the sugar in a given food, the wine is going to taste sour— this effect is exacerbated when the wine in question is light bodied, as there is less tannin (the "puckering" compound in red wine and tea) to cover up the unfortunate flavor. All in all, white wine when paired with even the most bitter of chocolates is going to come out tasting like lemon juice and mud— think "brushing your teeth and then drinking a glass of OJ" sort of flavors.

Many reds suffer a similar fate for the same reasons. Indeed, most dry table wine of any kind is going to be a rough match. If you must go dry, go big and bold: Zinfandel, Shiraz, and almost any red from your warmer wine growing regions should fit the bill; in this case, just try to avoid the sweeter stuff like milk and white chocolate. Amarone from the Valpolicella region of Italy is also a good bet— this dry wine is made from raisins, like many dessert wines, so it has plenty of residual sugar, plenty of alcohol, and a big full body which should easily stand up to and compliment an array of chocolaty treats. But still, as long as no one is diabetic or diametrically opposed, sweet wine is the way to go.

Options abound in the realm of sweet wines, given the myriad methods by which it can be made. If chocolate torte is your romantic treat of preference, go with a demi-sec (or 'semi-dry') Champagne. Bubbles and high acid will bring out the more subtle flavors found in an elegant cake, while the lighter structure keeps said pastry from being overpowered. Every major sparkling wine house releases a sweet offering or two— one of my favorites is the Piper-Heidsieck Cuvee Sublime, which is hard to miss for its striking purple packaging. If you prefer your sparklers on the darker side, Italy offers a surprising array of fizzy and fully sparkling sweet reds in various styles. For the flavor of red berries with a full sparkle, you can't top Banfi's Rosa Regale Brachetto d'Acqui. For a similar raspberry/strawberry nose with less alcohol and half the fizz, Fracchia's Voulet Casorzo is beautiful; there is no better pair around for chocolate covered strawberries.

For creamier confections, go with a more traditional dessert wine. The methods by which these sweet wines are produced seem to outnumber the leaves on a vine. However, it may be safely stated that most are very, very sweet and nearly syrupy in consistency. This combination of sweetness and texture is what you are going to seek to compliment the buttery richness of chocolate truffles and other ganache filled treats. Canadian ice wines are a lovely compliment to truffles, particularly those with a fruit flavored filling. By having the grapes freeze on the vine before harvest, winemakers are a allowed nearly maximum sugar content for pressing. The result is a wine of extreme sweetness and density, with surprising acidity and very clean, pure fruit. Unfortunately, the process is very labor intensive and risky, leaving prices in the department of $50 to $100 a half bottle! If you are willing to drop the cash, a few great producers include Inniskillin, Jackson Triggs and Konzelman.

In the south of France on the Gulf of Lion, local vintners produce what is considered by many to be the best wine in the world for chocolate. Called vin doux naturel, these wines are dosed with brandy during fermentation, halting the conversion of sugar to alcohol. Unlike port, which undergoes a similar process, vin doux naturel typically hovers around 15%-18% alcohol, and is made with more well known and noble grape varieties. Chocolate's best friend in particular may be found in the region of Banyuls, which produces a wine of the same name. Banyuls is based on the Grenache grape, renowned for producing the finest wines of the Rhone valley. When allowed to develop to optimal ripeness in the Mediterranean sun, Grenache gives up a concentrated fruit character unmatched by any other grape. Having all the sweetness of port wine with more complex fruit flavors (and lacking that alcoholic burn!), Banyuls is the practically ideal match to any chocolate preparation. Though rarer than most of the previously mentioned wines, most fine wine stores should offer at least one or two, particularly this time of year. My favorite is the Domaine la Tour Vieille, which is full of that quintessential combination of dried and fresh fruit flavors that make Banyuls so unique.

Of course, this is but scratching the surface of the world of dessert wines, but time, I fear, is not on our side. I hope this quick foray will help make your Valentine's Day as sweet as it could possibly be. Whatever the wine you choose, may it be luscious, flavorful, and not nearly as cloying as that last sentence.

Once again, Super Bowl Sunday is upon us. As improbable as it may have seemed a few months back, the New York Giants will be taking on the New England Patriots this Sunday in Phoenix, Arizona for the NFL Championship title. Thanksgiving notwithstanding, this Sunday is the biggest drinking day of the year, and whether you watch for a great game, a rout, or just for the ads, chances are you'll be doing it at a party with a cold drink in your hand. With all the chips on the table in the biggest sporting event of the year, shouldn't your choice of beverage reflect your loyalties? Let your friends and family know just where you stand by picking the perfect brew to support your team.

Cowboys Fans:
Ah, it could've been you out there! Should have been: 13-3 sure is a great record! Well, you guys have a right to be put out, so why not revel in that by drinking a great English Bitter? These beers have just the right amount of hops to leave a pleasant bitter aftertaste, but not so much as to make you choke like Tony Romo when Jessica's in town. Coniston's Bluebird Bitter is my personal favorite; with just a hint of malty sweetness balanced by clean wheat notes its the perfect "session" beer, and a relatively low alcohol content lets you drink all night without saying something that will give you even more to regret! If you are one of those particularly invested fans who is drinking to forget, pick up a bottle of Tito's Handmade Vodka. This five-times distilled, heavily filtered spirit from deep in the heart of Texas is as smooth and drinkable as a vodka of twice the price. At about $18 a bottle you can drink all night until you're crying like Terell Owens at a press conference.

Redskins Fans:
We've had a rough time this year guys, Lord knows. Despite the injury of our quarterback and the tragic death of our star safety Sean Taylor we made the playoffs-- this, in and of itself, is reason to celebrate. For cocktail lovers out there, raise your glass at kickoff in honor Miami native Taylor with an ice cold Miami:

1/2 oz White Creme de Menthe
1 1/2 oz Light Rum
Dash of Lemon Juice

Shake ingredients with ice and strain into martini glass.

If you happen to score big money on the game, do further honor to #21 and donate some of your winnings to the Sean Taylor Memorial Fund, a trust established by the team to benefit Sean's infant daughter, Jackie.

Patriots Fans:
Well damn, Pats fans, way to go! With a perfect season behind you and a record winning streak in the works, you've got a lot to feel good about. The obvious advice to celebrate your good fortune would be to have a Sam Adams. Yes, the Boston Beer Company makes many a fine beer, but I cannot say in good conscience that this is "always a good decision." In fact, the football fan from down east has any number of fine if less familiar beers with which to celebrate his good fortunes on the gridiron. Smuttynose Brewing Company of Portsmouth, NH offers a full line of well made craft beers that will appeal to any taste. The Old Brown Dog Ale is a particularly appetizing take on the classic British brown ale, offering a great malty-chocolate nose offset with a healthy dose of hops on the finish. Widely available at about $8 a six-pack, this makes an interesting departure from the same old ‘Boston Ale.’ If the weightier Belgian-Style brews are more your style, Allagash Brewery out of Portland, ME may be just your speed. This relatively young brewery (est. 1995) has quickly cemented itself as one of the finest makers of Belgian style beers in the Western Hemisphere. Though they produce a full line including a Dubbel, a Tripel, and several barrel-aged offerings, Allagash is probably best known for their White-- a crisp, spicy, refreshing take on the classic Belgian wheat beer. As a counterpoint, see if you can get your hands on their new Black, a wonderful Belgian-style stout. Unlike its more American-styled counterparts, the Black is possessed of a lovely roasted coffee/yeasty nose, a silky (but not creamy!) texture, and a finish as dry and dark as Bill Belichick's soul.

Giants Fans:
Segueing a wild card berth into an NFC Championship is no mean feat, and New York fans should be proud-- but let's not kid ourselves here: come Sunday night you will likely find yourselves crying in your  cups. Fortunately, few states in our great union produce the breadth of native inebriants that New York has to offer, so there'll be plenty to help you forget all about that pretty boy quarterback, Tom Whatshisass. For you ex-pat city folk, seek out one of the many beers from the fabulous Brooklyn Brewery. Brewmaster Garrett Oliver has taken this producer to new heights, introducing amongst other things the brewery's first bottle-conditioned ale, the Local 1. Utilizing a special form of secondary fermentation, the Local 1 is an American beer of unique complexity, exhibiting notes of bread, citrus, wheat and spice, hung on a body both firm and crisp. For those that prefer their beer more quaffable, try the classic Brooklyn Lager, whose "dry-hopped" heritage shows in a floral nose unusual in an American Amber.

If you don't dig the suds but want to share in the NYC vibe, pick up a six pack of Original Sin Hard Cider. Founded by a couple of city boys sick of the prissy, sickly-sweet ciders that were once all to be had, this cidery produces nothing but real, dry, European-style ciders made from less sweet varieties and containing no artificial flavors or sweeteners. Their cider is a bargain at about $9 a six, and in true Super Bowl spirit, their ads are... eye-catching and memorable.

Though firmly in the shadow of its western counterparts, New York State is actually one of the largest producers of wine in the United States, releasing some of the finest Rieslings and Gewurztraminers this side of the Atlantic. If the fruit of the vine is more to your liking, toast Tom Coughlin and the Boys in Blue with a glass from Dr. Konstantin Frank Winery in Hammondsport, NY. Founded by the Russian scientist who made cold climate grape cultivation possible,  DKF produces a wide range of crisp, acidic, dry and semi-dry whites and reds on its sizable estate on Keuka Lake, not far from Coughlin's home town of Waterloo. Their Salmon Run line makes for a wonderful value party wine ($10-$16), offering a superb dry Riesling and a surprisingly good Meritage red-- and rest assured, both go great with nachos and wings.

Here's wishing you and yours a safe and happy Super Bowl Sunday. May all your passes be completions, your celebrations be excessive, and your beers be cold ones. And yea, should things not go well for your team, remember this: there's always next year. the refs were totally out to get them.

About four years ago a certain movie came out that made a big splash on the indie movie scene. While this movie may have received huge amounts of critical acclaim, including the Oscar for Best Screenplay and the Golden Globe for Best Picture, its influence on the world of wine would prove to be more dramatic than its effect on international cinema. I am speaking of course of Paul Anderson's immortal Alien vs. Predator.

Oops -- actually, I think that one was up for a Razzie; of course I mean Alexander Payne's Sideways. This buddy flick about two misanthropes schmoozing and boozing around wine country is only peripherally about wine, but its effect on the industry was dramatic. For the uninitiated, the film's main character is a manic-depressive failed writer named Miles (played with superb asininity by Paul Giamati), a stereotypical wine bore of the highest caliber, who is treated by his soon-to-be-hitched buddy Jack to a whirlwind tour of Santa Barbara wine country. Throughout, the pair get into a number of scrapes and sample copious amounts of Miles' favorite wine, Pinot Noir, about which he waxes poetic and, in the end, proves a metaphor for his thoughts on relationships and love.

Now if you are going to pick a grape as a metaphor for relationships, Pinot Noir is apt: it is very difficult to cultivate, heavily influenced by its environs, can break your heart and ruin you in a bad year, is subtle and nuanced, takes awhile to grow accustomed to, and for many, ignites a sort of passion that other grapes just can't illicit. Oh, and it's also great with pork!

Though meant simply as a character-developing metaphor, Miles' impassioned speech inspired many a novice wine drinker to pursue a love affair with the fickle grape, and the results were shocking. One study by Nielsen showed an increase in Pinot Noir sales by volume of over 15% in the four months following the release of the film. Having been working in a wine store at the time I can corroborate this: we couldn't keep the stuff on the shelves! And of course, come next vintage, prices of Pinot -- the good, the bad, and the ugly-- were through the roof. Now, I don't have any particular problem with market forces in general, so I understand the increased demand producing a higher price. The problem is that supply by no means remained constant, with a) producers who had no business making Pinot Noir getting into the game, and b) producers of sub-standard product starting to cut corners to crank out more of the stuff even as they raised prices in keeping with the trend. The result was that soon the great stuff was priced out of the average consumer's hands, the good stuff was not nearly the value it once was, the vast majority of juice on the market was giving the rest a bad name.

Pinot Noir is a difficult grape to grow, and it does not take well to being churned out in mass quantities-- thus, the vast majority of what is out there is but a ghost of the real thing, hinting in only the vaguest sense at those sublime sensations exalted by the film's protagonist. And though four years down the line the initial burst of interest may have subsided a bit, Pinot's popularity remains ranked amongst the top of the reds. Though prices remain inordinately high there are a few really great ones out there for the money that are readily available and may give you some insight into Miles' grandiose rhetoric.

Despite the weakness of our dollar, I still feel that looking abroad for your Pinot fix is the safest bet -- though there are some fine domestic ones out there, the best are just too well-known and too pricey for everyday use. From the northwest of Italy (not a country known for great Pinot Noir) the Monte Degli Angeli Monferrato Pinot Noir 2005 is a pleasant surprise. Blended with a small portion of the native Italian Nebbiolo, this light red has a pleasing fresh raspberry nose which gives way to a lightly tannined, crisp, mineralic finish -- and all this for about $8! The similarly-priced Les Jamelles Pinot Noir 2005 from the Languedoc region of France offers a bit more fruit and a slightly rounder texture than the Monte Degli, but is still a great and easy-to-find inexpensive Pinot that lacks the cloyingly fruity or unpleasantly green flavors common of most of its inexpensive brothers.

From New Zealand, consider the oddly named but well made Saint Clair 'Vicar's Choice' Pinot Noir 2006. Like most Kiwi Pinots this one is much lighter than its domestic or South American counterparts, and bright acidity is the name of the game, making this an easy $16 pick to accompany a wide range of foods. If you are a fan of more esoteric wines, the Maison Ambroise Bourgogne Rouge 2005 may be  more your speed. This wine hails from Pinot Noir's homeland of Burgundy, France, and brings with it a blackberry and horse manure nose, leading to roasted meat and raspberry on a solid tannic backbone. I know that may not sound appealing, but it makes an amazing pair with lamb or game, retails for under $20, and is brought in by local importer Robert Kacher, so it should be relatively easy to find. Finally, if you prefer your wine on the fuller and fruiter side, try the Luigi Bosca Pinot Noir Reserve 2006. This wine represents the rare Pinot Noir from Argentina, a country more often associated with blockbuster Malbecs. Bright and fresh cherry dominates the nose, giving way to darker fruit, chocolate, and flowers on a firm, medium-bodied structure -- like the Ambroise this wine is locally imported, commonly available, and often had for less than $20.

While these may not take one to the level of existential bliss hinted at by Sideways' hapless protagonist, they represent a fine first foray into the pleasures offered by Pinot Noir, that most variable and vexing of vines. If your aim is to embark on a similar love affair, my advice is to start out simple; maybe buy a bottle and have a glass or two while watching a movie. I know a good one you might consider -- I tell you, nothing accompanies fine wine better than the epic struggle between Aliens and Predators.

Since 1932, Washingtonians have been able to get a true taste of Italy at A. Litteri in Near Northeast, tucked away among the warehouses of the Florida Market that lies between New York Ave. and Florida Ave. near Gallaudet University.  Whether it's authentic balsamic vinegar, fresh pasta from Baltimore's Little Italy or mozzarella di bufala campana, you can find almost anything you're looking for in this off-the-beaten-path delicatessen.  And although it is not primarily a cheese shop (as my previous features have been), owner Mike DeFrancisci and his family pride themselves on carrying only the best and the freshest cheeses that Italy (and the rest of the world) have to offer.  When I'm looking for aged pecorino or fresh mozzarella, I know I can find it at Litteri's.

A true tour of A. Litteri must begin with directions - it's not the kind of place you'll stumble upon otherwise.  Located at 517 and 519 Morse St., NE, Litteri can be reached by taking 6th Street north from H Street, NE.  When you come to Gallaudet University at Florida Avenue, you will want to take your next left - onto the 500 block of Morse.  Parking is scarce (especially on Saturdays when one of the biggest flea markets in the city takes over a nearby parking lot), so be prepared to walk a bit.  Alternatively, you can take the Red Line to the New York Avenue Metro stop and then head east a few blocks, but the walk to Litteri is less than picturesque.  The red and green vertical stripes outside the green door announce your arrival.

Step inside the door for the first time, and you're likely to need a moment.  Immediately on your right, cases of wine are stacked six feet and higher, and signs trumpet prices as low as $3.99 for a bottle of Italian wine.  A mild feeling of claustrophobia can set in as you make your way toward a refrigerated case full of bottled soda, deli pickles and pre-made Italian sandwiches (made fresh each morning on hard and soft hoagie rolls).  Everywhere you look, your eyes are greeted by stacks of canned, bottled and packaged items from traditional Italian-American retailers like Cento, Sons of Italy, and De Cecco.  But in and among these items that can be found at most grocery stores are true gems that reflect Litteri's 80+ years of service (the original was opened downtown by DeFrancisci's great-uncle and grandfather in 1926) as a conduit for Italian staples: dried porcini mushrooms, arborio rice (for risotto) and desserts whose labels contain only a few words in English.

What appears to be a daunting and somewhat haphazard layout eventually resolves itself into a fairly well-organized floorplan: wine takes up a good portion of the front of the store, followed by spices and dry pasta along the right-hand wall.  The left wall is taken up with refrigerators and freezer cases containing fresh-made pasta from Frank Vellegia's Casa di Pasta in Baltimore, hand-tossed pizza dough, and packaged fresh cheeses (mozzarella, ricotta, mascarpone, etc.).  Down the middle of the store two large shelves offer a dizzying array of olive oils, vinegars made from almost any fruit you can think of, jarred pasta sauces (for those who don't have the time or the energy to make their own 'gravy' from scratch) and canned goods.

If the layout of the store didn't serve to draw customers to the rear, the deli counter that runs along the entire back wall would easily do the trick.  Even from the front of the store you can see the hanging salamis and prosciutti beckoning you.  The view continues to improve as you approach the counter, with hand-linked sausage and stuffed vinegar peppers on display in a glass case that is full of Italian-American delicacies like baccala (salted cod) and soppresata (a pork salumi that has large chunks of fat throughout).  The men who work behind the counter have done so for years, and this is reflected in the easy, ongoing conversations they share with regular customers.  They are quick to offer samples of anything from an obscure salume like mortadella to an everyday provolone, and their recommendations have always served me well.

The counter is the heart of A. Litteri - in addition to the cold cuts and cheeses that they slice to order, visitors can also purchase a wide variety of Italian accompaniments by weight - assorted cured olives, sweet and hot peppers, pine nuts, grated Parmesan cheese and sea salt-packed capers all sit ready and waiting behind the counter in large containers.  And it is here at the counter that customers can have sandwiches made to order.

These are not your ordinary, run of the mill sandwiches.  They are possibly the best deli sandwiches I have found since coming to Washington more than a decade ago.  The meatball and sausage sandwiches remind me of the ones I enjoyed with my family on weekends while I was growing up in New Jersey, and the cold cut options go far beyond those of most sandwich shops.  Additionally, this is the only place I have ever found to offer fresh mozzarella as a choice of cheese for your sandwich without any sort of upcharge.  The freshness of the bread and the rich flavors of the various condiments make for a great taste at a reasonable price - a loaded sandwich on a soft roll can be had for less than $5.

If you have ever visited the Italian Store in Arlington and fallen in love with their Old World charm, I encourage you to visit A. Litteri for the genuine article.  To make the trip even more worth your while, take some time to explore the Florida Market (the nearby warehouses and wholesale food vendors in the area).  Though more than a year old, this article from the Washington Post offers some great tips on places worth checking out.  Just make sure to plan your visit for a time when Litteri is open - they close at 3 PM on Saturdays and are closed all day on Sundays.

A. Litteri, Inc.
517 & 519 Morse Street, NE
7th & C Streets, SE
(202) 544-0184
Tuesday and Wednesday, 8 AM - 4 PM
Thursday and Friday, 8 AM - 5 PM
Saturday, 8 AM - 3 PM
Closed Sunday and Monday

The flavors of asparagus and artichoke are numerous and unique-- green, grassy, earthy, slightly sweet and bitter with a pleasant crunch. You'd think these foods would be a dream for the wine lover and gastronome! Sadly, these are actually two of the most difficult foods in the entire culinary world to pair with wine. Though their inherent flavors may be complimented by any number of wines (depending on the preparation) there is a certain something in asparagus and artichoke that somehow turns even the finest wine to plonk.

That certain something is the chemical compound cynarin -- or 1,4-bis[[(E)-3-(3,4-dihydroxyphenyl)prop-2-enoyl]oxy]-3,5-dihydroxy-cyclohexane-1-carboxylic acid for you chemists out there -- an organic compound found in great abundance in these two vegetables. On the bright side, it is suspected that this compound may actually slow the liver's production of LDL, or 'Bad' Cholesterol. Unfortunately for the wine lover, this compound also makes wine and other beverages taste a good deal sweeter than they actually are. This is perfectly fine if you are drinking, say, water -- in fact, it's even kind of pleasant. With wine, however, other elements come into play and most wines come out of the situation tasting of aluminum siding and iron shavings. This phenomenon is both colorblind and inattentive to quality -- be it Charles Shaw Chardonnay or Chateau Lafite, the result is almost always the same -- the invigorating flavor of tin foil. Yum!

Fortunately, there are a few wines that are seemingly immune to this reaction.
In my experience the white wines of Alto Adige have been the best of the best. This northernmost region of Italy produces some of the finest Pinot Grigios, Rieslings, Gewurztraminers, Pinot Biancos and Sauvignon Blancs in the whole country. Thanks to the region's stony/chalky soil, cool climate and high altitude the whites are dry, full-bodied, high acid and very mineralic. Bold fruit and lush texture take a back seat here to more bracing and rocky qualities. Cantina Terlano makes an outstanding line of whites and reds including the finest Pinot Grigio that I've had the fortune to come across under $25. Nals Margreid is another fine producer who has a few pretty well priced and widely available whites in the $15 range.

If you are eating your cynarin heavy meal out and can't find a wine from Alto Adige on the list there are a few basic rules you should follow. First, see if you can pick the wine with the highest mineral content -- being that that is what your wine is going to taste like anyhow, its best to have one that has been m