Drinking Independence

A line of people wrapped around the fence and past the bumper cars, talking jovially to pass the time, eagerly pressing forward toward the beer garden entrance. Even the volunteers and workers issuing wristbands chatted happily, as most will when they're working for beer. Once inside, I always feel like a kid in a carnival. Money is (almost) worthless. Friends meet and laugh, holding long strands of perforated tickets, each one exchangeable for 4 ounce servings of merriment. Nothing means 4th of July like the Seattle International Beer Festival. 

To get the party started, I visited New Belgium Brewery's table for a taste of The Trip #1. Settling down on my beach towel in the shade, I admired the golden, honeyed color of the opaque beer and the gentle smell of apricots and hops. The medium-weight beer washed over my tongue with a nutty sweetness and left behind a taste of lemon and orange. The smooth feel and mild hops perfectly complimented the weather and the festive feeling I often associate with drinking outdoors. It's not complex, but definitely enjoyable, with 8% alcohol and an IBU (bitterness rating) of 40. Overall The Trip was a great deal, my favorite 1-ticket economy beer for the day. 

Next I stepped it up with Rogue's Captain Sig's Deadliest Ale. Pooled in the center of my glass, the color appeared chestnut in the center while the sun glinted off the golden edge. A nutty nose followed through on the palate, complimented by a high note of lemon. Though it felt surprisingly light for being so dark, it had more bitterness than flavor. With 6.2% alcohol content and an IBU of 75, I don't feel the need to drink this 1-ticket beer again.

After the Rogue, and with the weather growing warmer and the garden more crowded, I craved light beer. So I went for white. Blanche de Bruxelle from Belukus looked milky in my glass, the pale lemon-juice color more cloudy than clear. I inhaled banana and floral scents and thoroughly enjoyed the crisp refreshing mouth feel. It seemed to fizz then dissipate in my mouth, like champagne. At only 4.5% alcohol and 20 IBU, it was my favorite overall beer of the day, one I intend to seek out at other locations. Blanche de Bruxelle proved the perfect accompaniment to a festive summer day, well worth the 2 ticket price. 

I also enjoyed Trade Route Brewery's Mango Weizen, though I'm not on the hunt to buy it. The fruit beer is perfect in small doses, but I think the concentration of mango could easily overwhelm in too tall a glass. The cloudy yellow beer tasted juicy and tart, but I found myself wishing for a cleaner, dryer palate. At 5% alcohol and 15 IBU, it's almost more juice than beer. In the end though, the fun fizzy tongue and long finish left me enjoying this 1-ticket weizen even after my glass was empty. 

Alagash Curieux, a boubon-barrel aged Belgium triple, is more than just a tongue twister, it's a damn fine brew. The barrels, previously used for Jim Bean, lend the beer notes of vanilla and caramel. This 2-ticket beer clocks in at 10% alcohol and 30 IBU. It's a pretty beer up and down, from the golden opaque color to the sweet, toasty flavor.

California Cider Company's Ace Joker Strong Cider was a great palate cleanser. It tasted surprisingly light for having 8% alcohol, but perhaps my acuteness of taste was fading. The translucent cider resembled a white wine more than beer. I loved the crisp, refreshing feel of fruit acidity and the delicate apple and floral flavors. This would be a fabulous sipping cider out on the porch, and at only 1 ticket, I sipped steadily from my beach towel perch. 

As my afternoon wound down, the garden filled up. The grassy grounds surged with happy and boisterous people, everyone enjoying themselves, even as the lines grew longer. Too soon it was time for a journey back home to curl up for a pre-fireworks nap.

If you're at all interested, go in 2010! I recommend showing up to the Seattle Center at noon so you can get in line for the happy hour deal of 5 bonus tickets. The garden really starts filling up around 2, so it's good to have a spot staked out by then. Bring friends, basque in sunshine and fill your stomach with snacks-on-sticks and bubbly brew. I'll be next to you on the grass, staring up at the sparkling space needle, and together we can toast our country's greatest summer celebration. 

Rosé Colored Glasses

Drinking rosé can unlock a little chest of possibilities. It brings us together then calls us outdoors to bask in the summer days, drinking up the sunset. 

Four others and I decided to taste 6 different Northwest rosés. Each bottle was brown bagged and labeled with a number, so we could taste them blind and without bias. Well, most of us. Bugs bagged them and organized them generally from lightest to darkest. When we revealed the bottles at the very end, I was more than a little surprised! I'll let you know each wine upfront in the tasting notes that follow.

The 2008 Elk Cove rosé, made from pinot noir, greeted our glasses with a salmon color, almost a pale, peachy orange. The faintly fruity nose opened up with notes of strawberry and honeysuckle, but turned medicinal, like cough syrup, by the end of the night. Don't let this one sit open for more than a couple hours, and drink it today if you have a bottle in your fridge or wine rack. When at its best, though, it tasted of Rainier cherries and unripe stone fruit, and sang with acidity. It almost felt like orange juice on the back of my throat as the delicate tartness on the mid-palate developed into a zingy finish. The Elk Cove is an enjoyable sipping wine, but does not have enough substance to pair with food. Though I gave it a 7 in our 10 point rating system, it received an average score of 5.625. Those wine industry boys are pretty harsh with their scores.

Syncline's 2008 Rhone blend rosé is composed of 44% cinsault, 30% granache, 17% mourvedre and 9% counoise. It's pink color would suit a ballerina. Aromatic and creamy, three of us agreed it smelled like orange-glazed cinnamon rolls. I enjoyed the consistent acidity and the flavors of white peach and lemon, but the abrupt finish lost it a point. Overall, I rated it a 7.5 and it received an average score of 6.125. Only Bugs preferred the Elk Cove to Syncline. 

Saviah's rosé, made from sangiovese, won my favor for the evening, but it was a hard decision. The nose was rich with strawberries and cherries, with a hard-to identify high note, perhaps lemon or key lime. In the mouth, it attacked with juiciness and and big refreshing acidity. Watermelon, strawberry, rhubarb and citrus dominated the palate at first, but a faint minerality gained presence as it opened up. We noticed a saline smell and flinty sharpness on the finish when we revisited it at the end of the evening. Tracking Saviah's evolution in the glass is a pure, pink joy. 

After that glass of tasty, Waters' rosé was a huge disappointment. The dark, almost garnet-colored wine smelled grotesquely funky, like spoiled food, but with a hint of burnt figs. The vodka-and-cranberry-juice palate might suit some, but our group panned it and we all rinsed our glasses before filling them anew. Did Waters finish last because it was the oldest at 2007, just past its prime and suffering from the oxidation that marks old age? It's hard to know if it was old or flawed, doomed from the beginning by too-late a harvest or spontaneous fermentation with accidental yeasts. Bugs and I actually tasted and bought this at the winery in March, at which point it tasted deliciously of watermelon Jolly Ranchers. Sadly, bottle to bottle variation is inevitable. We thought we purchased a bottle worthy of $20 and a gathering of friends, but we scored it at 3.625 and promptly dumped it down the drain.

Happily moving on, we tasted Chris Gorman's "42-39-56," a raspberry-hued Red Mountain cabernet sauvingon, just lighter in color than Waters. "It's booze!" one declared, while another said it smelled "like the exhaust of an '86 Datsun." The nose, I thought, had a sharp vegetal aspect, perhaps of asparagus, but my palate tingled with the tastiness of a cranberry tart dessert and the sumptuousness of cherry liqueur soaked currants. Though lush and lively in the mouth, it lacked any agreeable aromatics. I rated it 6, and the group gave it 5.25.

Lastly, Barnard Griffin's 100% sangiovese rosé showed surprisingly well, tying with Saviah for best Northwest rosé. For such a cherry-colored character, the Barnard Griffin was expressive and complex. High notes of ruby grapefruit and tropical fruit complemented the background taste of raspberry and watermelon. As it opened, the fruit-forward nose revealed some feet stink, though others said it was cat pee. But don't be dissuaded. Usually sold at under $10, this wine is a great deal. 

Surprisingly, the Saviah and Barnard Griffin, the two cheapest wines, proved the tastiest. Though they're both made from 100% sangiovese, the wine makers allowed them to develop in opposite directions. When compared side by side, Saviah's light color and subtle flavors quietly contrast Barnard Griffin's purple-hued cherry color and explosive fruit. 

How long does the juice play and swim with the skins in the making of rosé? It's sensitive, so touch and go. When the time comes, the juice is pressed and fermented on its own. Most Washington wine makers, however, practice saigneé, the bleeding of the vats. This lowers alcohol content and increases concentration of flavor on the mother red wine. During this process, if the pink child isn't bottled as rosé, it simply runs down the drain. And that's no fun. Sometimes, we all need to wear rosé colored glasses and greet the world with a sanguine complexion and disposition.

To Wine and To Wed

Entangled grape vines lined the entrance to their eternity. I had visited Areus Inn earlier in the day, before the wine tasting and lunch and the peak of the heat. We hung paper lanterns over the bar and strung tiny lights through the trees and filled glass vases with dried lavender, the bride, her sister, and I. I wasn't entirely needed, but desperately needed to be present and useful. In the morning, the empty hills seemed peaceful, like the pause between preparation and final action. Like the time between doings when we just seem to be. Now, 5 pm and five wineries in, the crowd of people pulsed with excitement and anticipation. The doing time had come.

I saw the groom briefly to hand off the Okanagan ice wine, carefully transported across the border and passed along a relay line of hands. Without it, my hands were empty. The bride, of course, hid inside until her moment. We milled about until finally, every person in place, we sat beneath the sun with shining faces and fidgeting hands. We, the audience of their affection, watched the bride walk the grassy aisle toward her bearded beloved.

Oh, how we ladies love those bearded men.

Like two pillars, the pastor said, they stood apart. I liked that. I liked the wheat field altar and the church of rolling hills, and the sanctity of the sun. After the simple ceremony, we stood under the light-strung trees, sipping Mountain Dome brut, or Argyle if we were lucky enough to be in the bridal party, waiting until the shade crept over our tables before sitting down to dinner. Once tucked into our meal, the wine kept pace with the plates.

The Okanagan ice wine proved a perfect complement to the wedding cake, certainly the best I've ever tasted. Satiated, we let the sun set behind our backs, we allowed the light to slip between the leaves, beam briefly between the tree trunks and disappear.

I had come to Walla Walla for their wedding, but a little wine tasting proved the perfect side dish to the weekend entree. Bugs and I visited once before, quite the to-do two months back. We stayed at Girasol Inn where the breakfasts were large and the beds soft, perfect complements to a whirlwind wine tour. Budget Inn was more my speed for this solo venture. Poor bugs had to slave away at the same wine shop that employs the groom.

Back then, the highlights of our stay were Abeja, Buty and Waters. Waters winery is an essential stop when visiting Walla Walla, and I'm always surprised how few people in Seattle are familiar with it. For this second trip, I joined forces with someone a little more capable of driving than myself. Revisiting Waters was a must, and I was blown away by their Loess. At Northstar, we agreed on the Columbia Valley Merlot as a favorite, though it was the cheapest of the three Merlots offered and grown in the least prestigious vineyards. One more winery, my companion said, and then he said it again. Time ticked toward the ceremony, and my planned hour to "do myself up" was whittling down to 15 or 20 minutes. But Tru was worth it.

Tucked away downtown, the odd little tasting room occupies the back of a retail store, the entire set-up clearly aimed at ladies such as myself. Chunky, candy-colored belts dressed up displays and draping dresses lined the racks. I was impressed with the selection of clothing, clearly chosen with a playful attitude. And what better companions to a shopping spree than blanc de blanc, viognier and gewurztraminer? The bubbly lit up my mouth with a shower of fine, delicate bubbles, and tasted deliciously of green apples, but I thought it was overpriced at around $35. The frangrantly floral viognier was a steal, and I snatched up a bottle along with the gewurz. Undecided if I liked it or not, I couldn't deny that it was interesting. Really, it was weird as shit, with a petroleum nose and palate that wasn't sweet in the least. I needed to give it a second, more focused tasting.

Later, back in the fields, after dark set in and the elders went to bed, a live band set up by the pool and the newly weds danced to Red Red Wine. While some joined them, others stripped off their finery to dive in. Such a relief, after the hot dry day, the hours of drinking and social pleasantry. They baptized themselves in youth and abandon. Emerging from the pool, shivering and wet, they just drank more wine for lack of a towel and danced and embraced people until the whole party was a little damp. The night nodded yes, and eventually even the bride soaked her polka dots and pearls.

The celebration continued long after I left. I think it's still going.