And we thought Merlot was getting a bad rap.
We suspect much of Chardonnay’s maligned reputation comes from the fact that the Chardonnay grape was, during the early 1970s, the newly budding US wine market’s entry-level grape. California went wild planting it, and US winemakers in those early years intended to produce a wine distinct from white Burgundy (aka French Chardonnay). Today, that approach seems to have backfired. We’ve watched many a winemaker slump his or her shoulders in defeat after being told, “No… not the Chardonnay” by a tasting room visitor. Even more tasters are likely to place their hand over the glass if they hear the words “Chardonnay” and “oak” used in the same sentence.
But “Cougar Juice?”
Chardonnay is not only the new Merlot of the wine food chain. Worse. It’s perceived as this century’s version of the wine cooler.
As the Indie Vinos team is led by a woman who is both single and in her 40s, we have more than a passing acquaintance with the demographics of women — in age, if not younger-male preference — referred to as “cougar.” And yet, we are somewhat broken-hearted that a certain subset of female winos’ preference for Chardonnay has given the poor, under-appreciated grape (not to mention those of us who are single and 40-plus) a reputation as sullied as the predatory women after whom the wine’s disparaging moniker was given.
We have our theories about why people mock Chardonnay by referring to it as Cougar Juice. Although most of our friends also are red wine lovers, we’ve recognized a few white-only wine drinkers who believe Chardonnay to be the gateway drug of wine-drinking. And with good reason: White wine has fewer calories, tends to be sweeter, and doesn’t stain those expensively whitened teeth. Nor will it ruin the Versace when a tipsy wine-drinker splashes the golden nectar as she obliviously waves her glass around. Let’s face it: As white wines go, Chardonnay is a household name, carrying caché — or at least brand recognition — other whites have not quite achieved. Despite its sullied reputation, Chardonnay still dominates as the white wine of choice. And it offers a good, classy buzz with few repercussions.
We confess. We, too, have treated Chardonnay a little unfairly. We have a long running joke between we two “cougars” that we’re ABC music lovers: Anything But Country. We admit we’ve said more than once the same about wine: Anything But Chardonnay. But as with our music preference, that wine-preference statement isn’t exactly true. Both of us love Patsy Cline. And that Lady Antebellum song, “Need You Now?” Um, rocks! In recent years we’ve started to change our tune about Chardonnay. Tsk tsk on us for our discrimination.
Really, it’s inadvisable to rule out a whole class simply because some have less-than-appealing characteristics. Not all 40-something single women are cougars. And not all Chardonnay is over-oaked.
The trick is to experiment and find the style of Chardonnay you like. You may enjoy the flavors of green apples, melon, hazelnuts or pineapples found in Chardonnays that are fermented using little or no oak. Or, you might enjoy the toasty, buttery, vanilla profiles that oak can lend to Chardonnay. Chardonnay tends to grow in the mouth, gaining flavor intensity and presenting a long, satisfying finish that may surprise you with its power, given Chardonnay’s less aromatic nose.
If you’re laboring under the impression that Chardonnay is a one-trick pony, what better excuse do you need than a global celebration (today is #ChardonnayDay, afterall) to get out there and re-introduce yourself to the classic white grape? Stuck at your desk for most of the day? Follow us (@IndieVinos or @KarinMcKercher on Twitter or on Facebook) as we share Chardonnays that bust the “Cougar Juice” myth. Follow the #Chardonnay hashtag to follow the celebration. Then pick up one of the wines that stirs your interest and join the celebration later.
Cougar Juice? Phhhhhttttttt.
Now much as I love drinking Chardonnay in its various forms (Bubbles anyone? My personal favorite…), I’m of the opinion that one of the best uses of Chardonnay is in cooking. I love to cook, and in particular, I love to cook for other people. Entertaining friends and family is one of life’s greatest pleasures, and I try to do it as often as possible. Because I enjoy the company of my friends and always want to be “part of the party,” I tend to favor simple recipes when hosting a get-together so I’m not slaving in the kitchen while everyone else is in the other room drinking all of my wine.
A few years ago I spent some time in Fiji at this amazing hotel owned by an Italian couple. It was a small place, maybe only 20 guests total, so the owners did all of the cooking for the guests. The following recipe is a riff on one of the outstanding dishes they served while I was there, and as is typical of me, when I taste something fantastic I try to recreate it back at home. Their recipe is vastly superior to mine, I’m sure, and in fact there are many similar recipes out there, but my addition of the Chardonnay takes it over the top. I have served this many times to friends and family and it always disappears the minute the plate hits the table.
1 large sweet onion (Walla Walla, Maui or similar), sliced
2 TB good quality olive oil
¾ cup Chardonnay
Bread base: flatbread (Trader Joe’s has a great flatbread), baguette slices or similar
1-2 cups grated Italian cheese, depending on how much cheese you like (fontina, parmegiano reggiano, mozzarella or combination)
1 TB fresh rosemary, chopped
In a sauté pan, cook onions, sea salt & cracked black pepper in the olive oil over medium high heat.
When onions start to brown, add the Chardonnay to deglaze the pan, turn the heat down and let the onions cook slowly until the liquid is reduced and the onions are soft and caramelized.
Brush a baking sheet or pizza pan with additional olive oil and arrange several flatbread rounds or the baguette slices on the pan. Spoon the onion mixture onto the bread, sprinkle with cheese and the rosemary.
Cook in a 425 degree (F) oven until cheese is melted and bread is golden on the edges. Slice flatbread into wedges and serve.
Regardless of whether you’re a donkey or an elephant, you’ve gotta love a politician who declares May to be Oregon Wine Month. Forget kissing babies, they can't vote anyway.
Oregon boasts 15 AVAs, although not all Oregon AVAs fall within the three primary wine-producing regions -- the Willamette Valley and Southern Oregon, both of which are wholly contained in Oregon, and the Columbia Gorge, which lies approximately an hour east of Portland just past what is arguably the 8th Wonder of the World, the Columbia River Gorge National Scenic Area. The Columbia River divides the Columbia Gorge AVA, which includes Washington.
Oregon is one of the most diverse geo-climates in the world, with rugged mountain ranges that include some of the nation's highest peaks, high desserts, low, densely forested mountains, and beautiful beaches. Most Oregon wine comes from places just east of mountain ranges. The Willamette Valley and Southern Oregon regions lie just east of Oregon's coastal range, while the Columbia Gorge region lies just east of the Cascades.
Early Oregon settlers planted wine grapes (or vitis vinifera) in the mid 1800s. In 1904, Ernest Reuter is rumored to have won a gold or silver (depending on who's telling the tale) for his Klevner at the St. Louis World Fair. What's Klevner, you ask? (Don't worry, we asked, too.) According to the world's foremost authority on varietals, Klevner is the name used in Alsace for several varietals, but typically refers to those of the Pinot family and Chardonnay.
Although many believe modern-day Oregon wine making originated in the Willamette Valley, in fact it originated in Southern Oregon. In 1961, despite discouragement from his UC Davis colleagues, Richard Sommer planted Riesling grapes near Roseburg. His winery, Hillcrest Vineyards, reputed to be Oregon's first estate winery and first Pinot Noir producer, continues to produce small lots of handcrafted artisan wine. Sommer wasn't the only UC Davis alum who desired to make wine somewhere other than California. Between 1965 and 1968, David Lett, Charles Coury and Dick Erath brought their wine-making education and experience to the Willamette Valley, planting Pinot Noir and small quantities of Pinot Gris, Riesling and Chardonnay.
In less than two decades since Sommer's arrival, Oregon became recognized as a world contender for producing exception wines. In 1979, the highly influential French restaurant guide, Gault Millau, arranged the French Wine Olympiades, a competition that included representatives from 330 countries. Lett, known affectionately as "Papa Pinot," finished among the top 10 with his Eyrie Vineyards 1975 South Block Pinot Noir. The story is not nearly as famous as The Judgement of Paris, and Oregonians are still waiting for Gus Van Sant to make a movie a la Bottle Shock (only more artful, of course).
Unsatisfied with the results, French winemaker Robert Drouhin arranged for another competition that included wines of higher regard. Joseph Drouhin's Grand cru 1959 Chambolle-Musigny finished first, with Lett's wine finishing second in a closely contested battle. Though Robert Drouhin apparently first began exploring Oregon as a place to make Pinot in the early 1960s, one might surmise that the contest convinced him Oregon was a premier region for producing world-class wines. Domaine Drouhin has been producing critically acclaimed Oregon Pinot Noir in the Willamette Valley since the late 80s.
Today, Oregon ranks fourth in the US for gallons of wine produced, producing almost 5.5 million gallons in 2011. Though Oregon ranks fourth, Oregon winemakers make less than 1% of the nation's wines. That's a quarter of what Washington and New York are producing, and a blip on the California scale. Oregon wine predominantly is made from 15 varietals (97%), though Oregon grows 72 varietals (of which Pinot Noir is one but undoubtedly the grape for which Oregon is most widely acclaimed).
Photo: The western edge of the Columbia Gorge AVA, taken from the Washington side looking across the Columbia River at Oregon.
Source for riff: Marcella Hazan’s “Essentials of Classic Italian Cooking”
1T vegetable oil
½ C chopped onion (roughly 2/3 a medium-sized onion)
2/3 C chopped celery (roughly 2 stalks)
2/3 C chopped carrot (roughly 1 medium)
½ Lb ground chuck (this should be fairly well-marbled)
¼ Lb ground pork
fresh ground black pepper
1 C whole milk
1C dry white wine
28 oz. canned diced roma tomatoes in their juice
Pasta of choice. Tagliatelle is the preferred noodle, but here we used a whole-wheat fusilli which is equally yummy. Anything, apparently, but spaghetti, because according to Hazan and despite popular notions, the real deal in Bologna is never, ever served over such pedestrian noodles.
Cook oil, butter and chopped onion in a soup pot or Dutch oven over medium heat until the onion has become translucent. Add celery and carrots, stir to coat and cook for about 2 minutes.
Add the meat, a generous pinch of salt and a few grindings of black pepper. Break up the meat with a wooden spoon and cook until the meat has just lost its redness. It should be just barely pink.
Add the milk. Simmer gently and stir frequently until the milk has evaporated. Once evaporated, grate a tiny amount of nutmeg into the pot and stir.
Add the wine and simmer until the wine has evaporated.
Add tomatoes and stir thoroughly. When the tomatoes begin to bubble, turn the heat to low. Cook uncovered long, low and slow, with just an occasional bubble bursting the tomato-ey surface. Plan on waiting at least 3 hours before eating, though you can certainly steal a taste when stirring occasionally.
If the sauce dries out, add just enough water (or wine) to keep it from sticking to the pot. The sauce should not be at all watery when ready to serve, however.
To serve, prepare pasta. Top al dente noodles with a generous ladleful of sauce and serve with freshly grated parmigiano-reggiano cheese.
Ramazzotti Wines 2008 Sangiovese | $25 A crowd-pleaser. Bright red fruits and spice and a smooth finish with hints of cocoa and leather.
Ramazzotti Wines 2009 Grenache Noir | $20 Cherry and berry flavors, finishing with earth and coffee. Made in a style that produces similar to a fresh and fruity Beaujolais.
Sheldon 2007 Santa Ynez Valley Grenache | $25 A food-friendly wine with red fruit, wild berries and spice.
Joe Ramazzotti, a first-generation Italian-American, hand crafts his artisan wines in Geyserville, California, where palm trees stand sentry over his and wife Norma’s vineyard. Joe emigrated from Italy with his parents to the United States at the tender age of 8 a little more than half a decade ago. But if the style of his wines is any indication, his Old World roots have stayed with him.
Though most of the Ramazzotti wines are not made of grapes originating from Italy, that’s not surprising. Only a few grapes of Italian origin (such as Barbera and Sangiovese) grow in Alexander Valley and Dry Creek Valley where the Ramazzottis grow and source their grapes. Most of the area’s grapes are of French origin. Where Joe exercises his Old World muscle isn’t in his Italian roots, but his Old World style of winemaking.
Old World-style winemaking emphasizes terroir, a notion that “place” imparts character in wine. When someone says a wine is “reflective of its terroir” (literally translated as “soil”), what they mean is that the wine’s character largely is defined by qualities present in the vineyard. Soil, yes. But other environmental factors, too, such as altitude, sun exposure, drainage, climate and temperatures.
The winemaking expression “great wine is made in the vineyard” is closely related to the notion of terroir, and it’s a central tenant of Joe’s winemaking. Joe, who spent most of childhood’s spare moments helping out on his aunt’s ranch, studied pomology at Chico State followed by nearly 30 years managing vineyards for many of the wine growers and wineries in Sonoma County.
Joe met his wife Norma while attending Santa Rosa Junior College. The two are humble, grounded and sweetly in love. They also are true get-your-hands dirty entrepreneurs, working harvest side-by-side each other and their helpers. After years managing others' vineyards and hand crafting homemade wine for friends and family to high acclaim, the two launched their own full-fledged winery in 2002. A balanced partnership, Joe oversees more of what could be classified as the strategic parts of the business -- vineyards, harvest – while Norma manages the tactical parts of the business -- taking and fulfilling orders, managing compliance and keeping the books.
Lusty, earthy, meticulously handcrafted and most certainly reflective of terroir, the Ramazzotti wines not only reflect the endearing, spirited character of the AVAs from which they’re sourced, they reflect the endearing, spirited character of their proprietors. These wines are happy wines, and they’ll spread their cheer abundantly in your glass.
Popcorn proceeds the movies by oh, about 4000 years. According to the Popcorn Board, the oldest ears of popcorn are about 4,000 years old and were discovered in the Bat Cave of New Mexico in 1948 and 1950. The ears found range in size from smaller than a penny to approximately two inches.
Popcorn was central to Aztec Indians who used the whole grain as food as well as ceremonially, using the tassels to make garlands, performing popcorn dances and decorating idols, in particular the god of rain and fertility, Tlaloc.
In the United States from 1890s until the Great Depression, street vendors hawked popcorn, following crowds with gas- or steam-powered popping carts. During the Great Depression, popcorn was one of the few luxuries people could afford, and while other businesses failed, the popcorn business thrived.
During World War II, confectioners lacked sugar to make candy, because the vast majority of sugar went overseas to the troops. As a result, the American population consumed three times as much popcorn. However, with the advent of the television and migration from the theaters in favor of the couch, popcorn consumption dropped dramatically until people began popping it themselves at home.
Today, the average American consumes 54 quarts of popcorn annually.
Scientists know that water is responsible for making popcorn burst, not, as the Native Americans believed, an angry spirit contained within the kernel. Each popcorn kernel contains a small amount of water that expands with heat. Starch within the kernel changes its structure as the kernel continues to heat, while pressure inside the grain mounts. At the time of bursting, the pressure within the kernel reaches 135 pounds per square inch. As a comparison, tire pressure on your car is probably somewhere around 34 pounds per square inch.
At that point, the kernel succumbs to the pressure, bursting open the hull and releasing the steam. The starch inside the kernel forms into the puffy fluff we know as popcorn, causing the kernel to sweel to 40-50 times its pre-popped size.
Ancient popcorn lovers popped their corn by heating sand in a fire, stirring the kernels in when the sand was fully heated. (Sounds like gritty popcorn to us!). Today, most Americans likely make their popcorn in the microwave. However, our go-to favorite is popped on the stove top, drizzled with good quality, melted butter and finished with sea salt. If that sounds boring, the Popcorn Board has oodles of popcorn recipes to try.
Naturally, we scoff at pairing such a treat with soda. Rather, we like to pair ours with a crisp, acidic white wine, especially if we've been liberal with the butter. The Kramer Vineyards Domaine Krieger Brut works perfectly. And what's more decadent than popcorn and bubbles?! The Pudding River Wine Cellars Viognier, the Sheldon Wines Vinolicity Blanc or the Chardonnays from Buoncristiani or Gracianna are some of our other favorites. Of course, if we're talkin' about adding Milk Duds, that clearly calls for a red wine pairing!
What are some of your favorite ways to fix popcorn, and which wines do you like to drink with it?
Lagrein (pronounced lah-grine or lah-grayn) hails from the Alto Adige, a region in Alpine Italy, and is found practically nowhere else, barring a handful of California and Southern Oregon producers.
As elusive as Lagrein is, Indie Vinos is thrilled to offer the Praxis Cellars Lagrein, one of the few from California.
Bill and Susan Arbios of Arbios/Praxis Cellars discovered the varietal while traveling through Italy en route to see the remains of Utzi, the Alpine Ice man and oldest natural mummy. Having never heard of the varietal despite his years of winemaking experience, Bill became fascinated with this grape that he found so unlike any other. He spent six months tracing vine clippings through US Customs to California, then planted the grapes in conditions strikingly similar to those in which they grew in Italy: 1800 feet elevation, exposed to maritime air that replicated the Italian alpine air.
That was nearly 20 years ago, and Susan believes they’re now the largest producer of US Lagrein. While most of their grapes have been sold for blending – their dominant traditional use – the Praxis Cellars 2007 Lagrein represents Arbios’ first vintage of the varietal.
Lagrein is a 500-year-old cross between the Teroldego and Pinot Noir grapes. Bill and Susan believe the cross was made as “tavern quaff” for those passing along the trade routes out of Venice through the Brenner Pass. Quaffable though it may be, wines made from the varietal have been described by Eric Asimov as “congenial, straightforward … deliciously plummy, earthy and chewy, dark and full-bodied but not heavy.” Because they tend toward very low tannins (those are the astringents that give young wines noticeable, sometimes harsh, dry, mouth-puckering effects but also contribute to a wine’s ability to age well), Lagreins offer the pleasure of big, bold, dark fruits with easy drinkability.
The Praxis Lagrein is indeed easy drinking, presenting flavors of blackberries, black cherry, blueberries and plum with mocha and herbs. The wine is rich in mouthfeel and color but surprisingly light bodied. It is best enjoyed now, and can be savored with a number of foods, such as pizza, robust pasta sauces, stew or game.
A word to the wise: Lagrein is not for drinking at lunch if you have to go back to work. Much as Petit Sirah does, Lagrein tends to stain your lips and teeth with its deep purple hue.
Your discount will apply automatically during the check-out process.
Around this time of year, you’ll find a few bottles of wine designated as the “perfect Halloween” wine. These wines usually come from Transylvania (yes, seriously), or they feature vampires, werewolves and other ghastly creatures on their labels. Word of caution: The wine inside is usually equally ghastly.
So what wine pairs best with Halloween? Anything you enjoy, really. I mean, we’re talking about answering the door to hundreds of “trick-or-treat” screaming kids begging for candy from strangers, and despite their adorable cuteness, it strikes me that few occasions scream “Mommy needs sustenance!” like Halloween does.
With the whole “blood” connection, however, this mother believes there’s no better wine to pair with Halloween than Sangiovese.
The word “Sangiovese” translates to “blood of Jove.” Jove, better known as Jupiter, reigned supreme as the king of sky and thunder. Ancient calendars demonstrate that Jove also reigned over festivals of vintages, likely because grapes, unlike other agricultural crops, were more susceptible to damage and therefore dependent upon the sky’s mercy.
As Béla Lugosi is rumored to have swilled more than his fair share of formaldehyde, any conclusion-drawing between Béla Lugosi and wine recommendations must stop at the necessarily campy Halloween tie-in.
Sangiovese is the grape that makes chianti, the raffia-wrapped quintessential Italian wine of Tuscany. Until the 1980s only a small area of Sangiovese could be found in the United States … in Alexander Valley, California where it lingered from pre-Prohibition days. Although California dominates as the US grower/maker of Sangiovese, the grape also can be found in Washington, Oregon, Virginia and Texas.
The “blood of Jove” tastes nothing like “blood.” Instead, look for vanilla and spice, with black and/or tart cherry, plums, anise, red currant and tobacco flavors. Sangiovese can age well, but mostly is intended to be drunk soon after it’s been released.
*For the record, apparently Béla Lugosi never uttered those words in the 1931 horror classic “Dracula.” Sometimes the truth hurts, doesn't it?
One of the best meals I’ve had was in a little thatch-roofed shack in Mexico where dogs and chickens had the run of the place. Can you imagine that flying in the States? No-freakin’-way.
In my opinion, we Americans like things too squeaky clean. Half the time you can’t smell the food in front of you for the overwhelming bleach smell of the table that was just wiped down behind you. We’re so obsessed with cleanliness I’m surprised we haven’t come up with anti-bacterial toilet paper. (If it exists, please keep me comfortably ensconced in my blissful ignorance.) We remove the pulp from our orange juice, pasteurize our apple juice, make it impossible to purchase a detergent that’s not anti-bacterial, even make our clothing anti-microbial.
Personally, I think a little dirt strengthens our immune systems. Or at least that’s the excuse I use for not dusting as frequently as I’m led to believe I should.
Wine’s no different. In fact, it may be worse. We may expect a little funk in a well-aged wine. But young-ish wines? People get their proverbial boxers in a bunch (or their panties in a pooch, as the case may be) when they find a little sediment in their wine. And wine that’s a little cloudy? Fuh-getta-bow-tid.
But hang on.
Young wine that’s cloudy or boasts a little sediment is kind of like orange juice with the pulp. A little haze in your wine means it hasn’t been filtered or heavily clarified to have all the good stuff removed. It means your wine is less processed, more authentic. And very often, it means it will have more flavor and a more pronounced bouquet, as well as the potential for a long life.
Sometimes wine may have stem- or shard-like crystal sediment. These crystals, called tartaric acid crystals, are the result of wines undergoing a cold-stabilization process — a process that involves the wine cooling before bottling so that the tartaric crystals fall out and can be separated from the wine. The process does little, if anything, to improve anything but the “aesthetic” quality of the wine.
In an interesting conundrum, though many unknowingly believe these crystals to be an indication of poor quality, in many other parts of the world, these crystals are called “wine diamonds” or “wine stones.” The longer grapes hang on the vine (called “hang time,”) the more the wine-diamond causing acids gather in the grape.
In other words, a cloudy wine and/or sediment found in your glass may be strong indications of a well-balanced, hand-crafted artisan wine and should be embraced. So celebrate. Additionally, It’s believed these crystals are loaded with anti-oxidants. Even if you’re not sporting wrinkles yet, it doesn’t hurt to preemptively load up on them. In fact, they’re kind of fun to gnaw on, in a Pop Rocks sort of way.
While there’s little you, as a wine drinker, can do about the cloudiness of a wine, if the sediment disturbs you, you can take precautions to avoid getting those shards in your glass:
The good news is, unlike orange juice pulp, there’s nothing in wine — despite its sediment or cloudiness — to get stuck in your teeth. Turning them purple, however, is another story altogether.
The Wine Prism essentially is a glass straw with a small hole about a third of the way from the top. We’ve affectionately dubbed it the Wine Bong (if you ever use it, you’ll understand why, assuming you’ve seen “Fast Times at Ridgemont High,” ahem). Don’t put your finger over the carburetor, however. Plugging that tiny hole defeats the purpose of the Wine Prism, which is to mix air with the wine as you sip, delivering wine that’s aerated as it hits your mouth. The WP peeps call this “volatizing” the wine and distinguish it from “aerating,” which they seem to say is the exposure of wine to air, while volatizing is the agitation of wine exposed to air. Seems a little like splitting hairs to me. The point is, the Wine Prism effectively aerates the wine as it enters your mouth, thereby revealing the wine’s flavor layers better than the ol’ reverse-whistle swisher-oo. Or so they say.
The WP Peeps say their instrument is “not intended to replace casual wine drinking.” I’m not sure if that means they assume casual drinkers are using plastic straws or if they really mean the Wine Prism is for those who are engaged primarily in critiquing wine. I don’t know about you, but I only drink wine with a straw when it comes in one of those juice-box thingies.
I tested the Wine Prism at one of my wine-tasting group’s tastings. Given that our group bears the moniker “Goofy Wine Nerds,” I figured this would be an awesome place to test drive the WP. So I handed it to the guy (who’s a real wine geek) sitting next to me and asked him to try it out. No way was I going first! In private, however, I did test drive the Wine Prism on both a rosé and a red blend. Word to the wise: If you’re not careful — if you’re too aggressive about getting that wine in your mouth — the end result may be a chest-burning coughing fit similar to an overly enthusiastic bong hit, too. Or so I’ve heard.
The Wine Prism does effectively churn air through the wine as it’s traveling through the straw to your mouth. But I found that pulling the wine into mouth was superior for evaluating the wine, which, after all, is the only reason to use one of these things. I’m not a scientist, but I suspect the “reverse whistle” was superior because it creates a larger surface area on which the air and the wine interact. For me, I was able to get a lot more “information” about the wine from the reverse whistle than I was from the WP.
The best thing about the Wine Prism is the story that goes with it. Isn’t that that case with most things? The Wine Prism was actually conceived by a four-year-old boy. When Dominic (who is one of the patent contributors) asked his parents why they didn’t drink their wine with a straw, his parents answered that if one was going to truly appreciate wine it was important to mix air with the wine to get a better feel for the wine’s flavors. Dominic responded by excusing himself to the kitchen and returning with a hole poked in the straw. Dominic apparently is a solutions-oriented kind of kid.
Each Wine Prism is individually hand-crafted in The Czech Republic of lead-free glass with either a silver or 24-K gold grape-cluster clasp (which presumably you can use with your pocket protector). $24.95
There’s no doubt it’s lovely.
For more information or to purchase http://www.wineprism.com/.