In the winter, nothing puts color in my cheeks, warms my middle and adds spring to my step like a few sips of sparkling wine. Champagne ranks at the top, although the more budget-friendly sparkling wines of Limoux and Alsace are getting better vintage after vintage. As winter makes way for spring, however, my mouth starts to water for wines that are white and fresh, cold on the tongue and juicy-bright in body. And lately, I’ve been thinking of the whites of Veneto. No, not Prosecco. I’m thinking of the steep hills outside Verona, and more specifically, the highest estate in the Veneto, Dama del Rovere.

The Pra family makes some of the most underappreciated native white wines in Italy. Their D.O.C. and D.O.C.G. Soaves, made from 100% Garganega grapes (rather than blended with the often over-cultivated Trebbiano, which risks tasting fat and flat) planted in the highest hills of Tremenalto, have real mineral depth and gorgeous acidity.

When I can't track down great Soave, another different, spring favorite is Forlorn Hope’s “Que Saudade,” a young Verdelho with bright acidity to balance its fruit flavors.

And for you? What do you crave come spring?

But what about those occasions when there is no meat? Last night, I was happily stunned by one of the most harmonious food and wine pairings I've ever experienced: a beet and haricots verts salad with a young Kermit Lynch Cotes du Rhone. The salad was dressed in a Banyuls vinaigrette and some endive was tossed in a with a bit of watercress.

The juicy but earthy young Rhone red blended so smoothly with the salad that it seemed like an extended ingredient. I'm always delighted when wines and food dance so perfectly together. 

And where did I have this meal? At the Angele bar, in Napa. One of my favorite downtown bistros, it certainly didn't disappoint tonight. 

Cheers! 

Last night, I think I attended the best pre-party in the valley: Cliff Lede's Open that Bottle Party. What distinguished this from the other events was that everyone was invited to bring a wine from his or her cellar, something treasured ,OR, something that's been sitting neglected in a corner and was never going to be opened otherwise. Honestly, the rules were, there were no rules; you could bring whatever you wanted. 

And people did. Two German Rieslings from the Mosel showed up, a 1989 and a 1990. Both Auslese with no petrol but gorgeous honey flavors as well as still-bright acidity on the 1990. There was an Aussie Shiraz from Victoria, a 1997 I believe, that blew my socks off with how beautifully alive it was (there's that acidity again). Kris Marjoram, the sommelier at Auberge du Soleil, brought a 1985 Stags' Leap and a 1998 Williams Selyem Chardonnay. The latter was, along with the Rieslings, a favorite of the night, with a color that suggested oxidation but with beautiful, rich flavors and brightness in the mouth.

In addition to the great wines, some of San Francisco's best sommeliers came and acted as servers (Christie Dufault from RN74 and Eugenio Jardim from Jardiniere) at the party. Tacos Michoacan pulled their truck upand took orders outside at one side of the winery and Rosso Pizzeria, one of my favorite Santa Rosa pizza places, set up their kitchen on the other. Carnitas tacos and hot Salsiccia pizza may sound like an unusual combination, but it worked. 

In the midst of all this, Cliff Lede and his right hand man, Jack Bittner, happily poured their own wines, including a very pretty, balanced 2006 Poetry. I thought Cliff Lede showed amazing confidence in hosting an event like this; he simply let his own wines subtly shine among dozens of star caliber bottles. Nothing was shoved in your face. Nobody made a speech. Instead, Ciff and Jack were there to answer questions and to serve, if you needed them. The rest of the time, they took pleasure in being surrounded by great wines - others' and their own.

To walk into a party and have the house Sauv Blanc on one side and a 95 Ch. Ducru-Beaucaillou (which most people thought was too brett-y but I thought was lovely)...again, it speaks volumes about the Cliff Lede crew. I think this was my favorite Premiere event to date, and a great reminder that it's more fun to open those rare, odd or special bottles among friends.

Over the last week, I‘ve discovered Doug Pike has many facets, and that we only touched upon a few during our brief email interlude. A former drug/liquor store owner from New Jersey, Doug Pike learned the wine business the old school way: He listened. He engaged in countless conversations with his dad; he bent the ear of the salesmen he worked with. He attended auctions, questioned his customers and visited wineries.

Doug got into cartooning professionally about 16 years ago, although he says that as far back as grammar school he was “an incessant doodler, filling my notebook pages with all kinds of drawings.” He originally specialized in business cartoons, of which he’s done about 1,000, but occasionally the subject of wine would work its way into his pieces. He began to set those cartoons aside, thinking it might be a unique niche to develop. When he’d gathered about a dozen, he started to send queries to wine-related websites.

“Robert Parker was one of the first to give me a shot,” Doug says. 

Five years and 365 cartoons later, Doug has become a recognized fixture at Parker’s online version of The Wine Advocate. He’s published a collection of about 100 cartoons called Gone With the Wine, and he’s branched out into the wine labeling world with Richard Smith of Stoney Creek Wine Press, whose often tongue-in-cheek wine labels have even been featured on the TODAY Show.

Doug believes cartoons can be an effective educational platform for wine, a subject that’s often perceived as stuffy or overwhelming. Or both. In fact, several wine schools have purchased his works. “The cartoons often depict, in an exaggerated way, the problems that people initially have getting their arms around the subject of wine,” he explains. “And, they can effectively be used as conversation initiators in a classroom setting."

A man who approaches wine with humor, humility and curiosity – like I said, we’ve only touched on a few of the many facets of Doug Pike. I look forward to discovering more, if only through his art, over the next few years.

So, you can imagine our dismay when the house key we'd been given didn't work. What was a hungry, cold, locked out crew to do? Well, when you're this particular crew, you throw the Franciacorta in the snow, open the already chilled German Riesling stashed in your cooler, kick yourself for not packing cups,  and pass the bottle around while you wait for the Australian realty agent to grumpily show up with the spare key (seriously, she was the first Aussie I've met who didn't see the humor in the situation). 

Strangely, this same "friend" lent us the same wrong key last year. Talk about situational irony...made actually quite delightful by being among folks who all enjoy good wine - even when its being pulled straight from the bottle - and who enjoy a good story even more. We'll be passing this one around among our friends for months. And people say the oral tradition is dead!

We'll pick up soon with Doug Pike, cartoonist for the online Wine Advocate. In the meantime, I've included another Doug Pike original below, along with a smashing new wine & food match up: Chick-fil-A nuggets and Gewurztraminer. Blew last year's Chick-fil-A - Beaujolais pairing right out of the water. The Kiwi Gewurz, a 2006 from Vinoptima, we opened this weekend had a whopping 14% alcohol, but the wine tasted refreshing, had lively acidity and seemed to hint at fruity, residual sugar. Dangerously good.

In the meantime, I thought I'd leave you with a piece of Doug's wine humor. Happy Super Bowl Sunday. Geaux Saints!

Photo of the two prettiest gals in the South, by Brooke Cheshier

My stepmom says it best. "In the South, isn't it Food = Love? Whether it's pain au chocolat or a a simple wedge of cheese, I'd love to know those dishes that make you feel cared for, comforted or adored.

More importantly, I'd love to know what foods or drinks you prepare or serve to show someone you love them.

Remember, love takes many forms...

I had the honor of penning a piece on the evolution of wine writing for the book. You'll have to pick up the actual cookbook to read it, however, as it - along with several amazing essays penned by some of the Napa Valley's most prominent and historic wine voices - is not featured on the application. But, for those who want amazing recipes and wine pairings safely tucked into their iphones - within scrolling distance - visit itunes.com, type in Napa, then find and download the Decanting Napa Valley app. 

It's the first day of sunshine in weeks here in the valley and another storm is moments away, so I'm off to enjoy all the beauty the rain has brought - the green ground, the chest high mustard flowers - while I can.

I love this quote. It perfectly sums up how I feel about reading. It should be a pleasure. Challenging, absolutely. Excruciating? Absolutely not.

I feel the same way about wine. Which is why I loved reviewing Tyler Colman's - aka Dr. Vino - recently released (at least it was recent when I first picked it up)  A Year of Wine: Perfect Pairings, Great Buys and What to Sip for Each Season for Vinography.com. The book blows the idea that wines have to be complicated and cerebral to be enjoyed right out of the water. Not that they can't be, but sometimes, the simplest vins de pays has as much to say as that cult Cabernet. It also goes better with Wednesday night supper.

To read the full review, click here.

By the way, Vinography turned six this year. Six years of honest, thorough wine journalism. In blog years, publisher/editor/author Alder Yaroow is like 87. Sage of the ages and all that...he's set a high bar for us all. Seriously, go on over and celebrate! 

My tongue was a filling estuary,

My palate hung with starlight:"  

- From "Oysters," by Seamus Heaney

Yes, those gloves are all giving you the finger; the guys at the Hog Island Oyster Farm in Marshall, CA, have a raw sense of humor.

I've had oysters on the brain lately. Oyster fever, and it's not even February. I blame Seamus Heaney. Or, more specifically, the opening poem to his beautiful collection, Field Work. "Bivalves," he calls them, "the split bulb and philandering sigh of ocean." How can you not be drawn by such a description - minus the rape of the ocean, the millions ripped, shucked and scattered, of course? Who doesn't want to taste the briny sighs of the sea?

The poem so reminded me of a trip I took almost two years ago with the Ad Hoc kitchen crew that I just couldn't resist revisiting the day. I had just moved to Napa, and I had the inspired idea to invite Chef Dave Cruz (whose beautiful cookbook Ad Hoc at Home just came out) - one of my first friends - on an oyster adventure. The idea was to break the bank and our bellies with bivalves, and our quest started (and pretty much finished) in the tiny town of Marshall,  and more specifically, at the Tomales Bay Oyster Company on Hwy 1.

We stocked up at the local grocery with hot sauce, some crusty baguette, and cheese from Cowgirl Creamery (I distinctly remember a Jean d'Alos Roquefort, although I can't call to mind the others) and then set up camp at one of the salt-crusted, chipped-paint tables overlooking the water. The day was as much about "toasting friendship, laying down a perfect memory," as Heaney might say, as it was about indulging. Still, there were just four of us, and we managed to dig through five dozen oysters before moving on to our next stop, the bar at Nick's cove. There we ordered another two dozen, along with some Monterey Bay sardines, and a few refreshing glasses of Muscadet, which we managed to finish completely off before calling it quits. Seven dozen oysters. That's almost two dozen a piece. Gluttonous? Perhaps, but I would do it again in a heartbeat.

Fortunately, when oyster fever strikes these days, I don't have to drive all the way out to Marshall to feed my craving, which is great considering the damp, dreary weather. Napa Valley is rich with oyster opportunities, and if they were more affordable - "brine-stung glut of privilege" they most certainly are - I'd let the oysters replace the sun as my vitamin D source for the next few days. Instead, I'll just have to rely on the memory of a single indulgence.

Below I leave you with a few favorite oyster spots, all of which offer at least a small selection of crisp, clean-finishing white wines (Like Muscadet from France's Loire Valley, or even fresh, cheap whites from the Languedoc) as partners. You're sure to find me at one of them soon:

1. Angele, Frenchie bistro in downtown Napa. The menu also offers a French onion soup that stains your fingers with the smell of gruyere, which pairs beautifully with their house red, a Cotes du Rhone from Kermit Lynch. 
2. Hog Island Oyster Bar, now open in Napa's Oxbow Market. There's something wonderful about sitting at a bar where everyone loves oysters. The Tomales Bay offerings seem a bit pricey, but on Tuesday and Wednesday afternoons, they have $1 Happy Hour opportunities. Plus, while I'm at the Oxbow, I can swing by the Cheese Merchant and beg Lassa to pick something new and tangy for me.
3. Bouchon, in Yountville, is a classic. The zinc bar, the red velvet banquettes - I'm always transported to fantasy French countryside. I love it there, and frankly, they often have the widest selection, as well as more east coast offerings than Hog Island and Angele (which both tend to favor the local varieties; I do advocate eating locally, but there's just something wonderfully lean yet savory about east coast bivalves).

Isn't it time to get out there and lay down your own perfect memory, to eat the day "Deliberately," that its tang might quicken you "all into verb, pure verb?"