Sunday, February 03, 2008
Food, Wine, Beer & Spirits

Anti-freeze

Revved-up reds for when temps drop down

By Jason Tesauro and Phineas Mollod

Last Sunday, New England Patriots quarterback Tom Brady, with no linebackers or down lineman to sidestep, braved the phalanx of cameras and adoring fans during a pep rally in Foxboro before the team hopped on a plane to Arizona for the Super Bowl. In chilly conditions, with a few snowflakes swirling in the air, Brady, likely wishing for hot cocoa, assured onlookers that Gisele Bündchen was no Jessica Simpson bad luck charm and that his ankle was ready to go. While this Sunday’s forecast is more apt for springtime walks in Inman Park, February is still wintry wine season. All those big reds you so carefully cellared far from the hazy summer heat have finally ripened, and it’s time for a contemplative sip of hearty red wines (regardless of whether the fireplace is roaring).

High octane heavy-hitters like amarone and Barolo can be your personal antifreeze, keeping your curious liver defrosted and palate running smoothly in even the lowest temps. In the long run, yes, consumption of alcohol outdoors causes loss of body heat, but in the short term of indoor creature comforts at room temperature—especially after a bad chill in an ill-heated auto—a glass of winter red restores ruddiness to wind-shorn cheeks. When spooning a nourishing beef stew (or even a measly Salisbury steak with boiled pearl onions), uncork a substantial red with real weight.

So don your ermine cap, and don’t be caught sipping pinot grigio when ‘tis the season for headier wine that warms the innards and tickles the nose hairs with elevated alcohol levels. We’ve put together a few suggestions for sweatered sipping by the fire … or, perhaps, on the screened-in porch in the temperate, winter twilight.

Amarone: Made in the Veneto from an air-dried trio of grapes (corvina, Molinara and Rondinella), its full name is recioto della Valpolicella amarone. Concentrated and long-lived, it’s known as the “wine of meditation,” likely because Italian quality laws mandate 14 percent alcohol, though 15 percent is not uncommon. This velvety red’s notes of bittersweet chocolate, plums, cherries and smoky charcoal make it the ideal vino d’amore around St. Valentine’s Day, too.

Bandol: In France, Provence’s best wines are made from mourvèdre. No summer is complete without a crisp bottle of juicy rosé (and a slap ’n’ tumble in the hot tub under the stars), and the local reds last a decade or longer. After a mandated 18 months in cask, Bandol feels like a Chateauneuf-du-Pape knock-off, big and rich with spicy, raspberry flavors that last a generation.

Barolo: The nebbiolo grape reigns supreme in Piemonte, and Barolo is the favorite son for top winemakers. Barolos are powerfully tannic in their youth and, unlike concerned American parents, Italian winemakers don’t prescribe Ritalin to these youngsters, rather a long sit in new oak barriques. As a result, mature Barolos are softer, complex wines evoking truffles, ash, chocolate and a nose of violets. By law, they have a minimum of three years of oak aging and 13 percent alcohol. Beginners to nebbiolo can start with Barolo’s racy younger sisters, Barbaresco and Gattinara.

Incidentally, these wines are huge and the prices are usually steep, but they pack extra buzz for the buck. Also, bold wines need more time to mellow, so don’t pull a four-year-old off the rack unless you’re hankering for a kick in the teeth. Like a charm-school dropout, these wines need a few years to learn some table manners.

Petite Sirah: No relation to Syrah, this zesty grape (aka durif) is widely blended into California Zinfandels, but makes for big wines, too, on its own. Deeply colored, robust and peppery, this grape features the highest levels of heart-attack-mitigating antioxidants, so pile on the beurre blanc and the petite sirah.

Priorato: Though Spain is often heralded for high technology in its modern wine culture, production methods for Priorato have barely changed since the 12th century when thirsty Carthusian monks (also of Chartreuse fame) founded the priory after which the wine is named. Brambly, colossal and black in the glass, it’s a pricey blend of garnacha (grenache) and cariñena (carignan). Plus, with minimum alcohol of 13.75 percent, after three glasses you’ll be numb to the cold and have the impaired motor skills to prove it. SP

Phineas and Jason are the authors of “The Modern Gentleman” and “The Modern Lover.” E-mail them at booze@sundaypaper.com.