After two bottles of that big zin I was drinking in my last post (which did indeed drive me to book travel to San Francisco again), it was time for a little dip back into the whites pool. Good for the unseasonably humid October we are having in New York. NUTS TO YOU, WEATHER.

I wanted something already chilled that I could drink as soon as I got home, and this had the right price, and a nice staff pick card on it talking about how it had the scent of ‘wet sand’. Well, I don’t know about that, but there is something nice and moist and earthy in the aroma. There’s also a mineral flintiness there in the scent that I like a lot.

This is exactly the sort of white wine that I can’t get enough of: fresh, tart, and mineral. No fruity flavors or buttery heaviness here, just crisp wine that almost puckers the tongue. It’s got a lot of minerality up front, which I love… that element in wines is such an unusual thing to me that I still can’t quite get enough of it. Like flint or chalk or limestone, but in a good way.

Not too complex of a wine, and not a great pair with the, uh, roast beef sandwich I had for dinner, but just pleasant and drinkable. As it opened up, it took on a little spiciness throughout, just an extra little zing! on the tongue. I think this would go great with some spicier Asian food. Perfect for the price.

BUY IT AGAIN: Sure! To go with some spicier Asian food!

I put a cap on the end of a stressful week of working in the mines by swinging in to the liquor store on my way home to get some goddamned booze. And, since Astor Wines is a lovely place that has tastings every Thursday-Sunday, I was there in time for a tasting. I had some weird but pleasant maple vodka, grabbed the bottle of bourbon I’d come in to get, and then got caught by the wine tasting area on the way out.

Now, I know I said recently that I could basically never drink another Chardonnay again as long as I lived and still be happy, but when I came up to the tasting table, the woman doing the pouring said the beautiful words “completely un-oaked”, and I thought it was definitely worth a taste. I tried the 2006 and found it quite delightful. The tasting lady said that the 2005 was “delicious”, and she said it with emphasis, so I went and snagged that off the shelf.

And it’s true! It is delicious! As promised, entirely unoaked. I’m a big fan of this whole stainless steel thing; it tends to lend a nice hint of minerality to a wine. The aroma is sharp and fruity, and the first impression on the tongue is acidity and a taste of apples. This is crisp upfront, but smooth and a little creamy on the finish.

This wine is very pleasant, and might just give me hope for chardonnay again.

BUY IT AGAIN: Could happen!

I’m just going to be upfront about this: I bought this wine because I’m a sucker for a gimmick. The store had a couple of bottles sitting upright on one of the shelves, and it caught my eye because the cork looked like it was all made of white wax, or something similar. And when I investigated more closely, I was even more interested, because this stuff was shiny.

Because this wine? Has gold flakes in it.

I did a whole two laps and a half around the store (which is what I do when I’m thinking about whether or not I should buy something that’s a little silly and a little out of the range that I wanted to spend) before I came back to get this one. This’ll probably be the last white I buy for a while, since finally, finally temperatures are starting to drop, and I will be able to drink red wine again without wanting to suicide. I decided to whip out the credit card and be stupid to get a stupid-looking, shinyshiny wine.

The wine is a mix of Gewürztraminer, Viognier, and Chardonnay. Two of those three grapes I just love, and I could basically never drink another goddamned Chardonnay in my life and be happy (although I suppose that would be a good goal for me: to find chardonnays that don’t just make me roll my eyes), so I had a feeling the wine might have something beyond its shiny gimmick. My expectations were low, since, well, the bottle was full of gold, but after I let my roommate take a bunch of pictures of the shimmery bottle, I cracked it open and ended up quite pleased.

I initially overchilled this (stuck it in the freezer and then got distracted wrestling my kitchen window open and peeling two heads of garlic), so my first impressions were ‘ah, it’s cold! And it’s white wine!’ But as it returned to a more reasonable temperature, I got some nice scents and flavors. This had a very good aroma; something between pears and peaches, and a little bit of honey. The gold flakes had the benefit of getting me to swirl it a lot to keep them from settling at the bottom, so I kept getting waves of the bouquet. On the tongue, this wine was very acidic–mouth-puckeringly so–but not citrusy at all. Each sip of it just made me want to drink more… despite the acidity, it had a taste of very wet fruits–pear, peach, melon. I really quite enjoyed it. It went well with the massively garlic and chorizo heavy soup I made for dinner tonight.

This wine, while ridiculous, was fun, and almost good enough to justify the price. At the end of the day, though, I’m just wondering if drinking this whole bottle tonight is going to leave me shitting sparkles.

BUY IT AGAIN?: Depends on whether or not I shit sparkles. IS THAT A GOOD THING OR A BAD THING? YOU MAKE THE CALL.

Tonight I’m making poulet sautè aux herbes de Provence, and the major ingredient is white wine, so I picked up something French in my Freshdirect shoppings! Nearly half the bottle went into the pot, and the rest is going into a glass and into my belly.

This is very interesting and kind of complex. The scent has a fruity, floral hit at first, and then when I really stick my nose deep in the glass, I got the smell of apples. The first sip was explosive and odd; this has more alcohol content than most wines I’ve been drinking lately, so I can feel my tongue pucker from it. It’s really quite pleasing. Upfront it’s a little sweet and citrusy, but in the aftermath there’s some grassiness, something woody. …I feel like I’m just using all my wine words I know here, but this is a really interesting wine that keeps me sipping and going “Hmm. Hmm! Hmm.”

It was also very good in the chicken. I mean! Poulet!

BUY IT AGAIN: Yes, so I can drink a whole bottle and figure out these flavors.

Astor Center has moved its Moscato d’Asti wines into its Cool Room (a lovely glassed-off room that’s kept at a chilly 57° at all times), or maybe they’ve always been there and the store is just now putting up signs saying that’s where they are. In any case, I’m grateful, because I could never find the stuff before. I think the first time I had it was as part of the ridiculous and wonderful tasting menu I had at the best dinner of my life at wd-50, where it appeared late in the courses, after many, many other glasses of wine. I think that’s what it was, at least. Like I said, many glasses of wine. Delightful and bubbly and sweet, just perfect for dessert.

My last experience with Moscato was with the Death in the Afternoon cocktails I was making with my bottle of Lucid Absinthe (which, I will report, was all drunk up in less than a week. ….I had help.) That was sweet and pleasant, but I wanted to try it on its own, so I picked up one of the lower priced bottles, that had a placard that talked about how it would be paired well with yellow cake. Presumably not uranium, but what do I know about wine pairings?

As I sipped this, nicely chilled and so very gently bubbly, I was delighted by how softly sweet it was, but spent a while being puzzled by what the fruity taste was. Apricot? I thought. Peach? And then I went, well, no, dumbass, what this tastes exactly like is Muscat Gummy (“Its translucent color so alluring and taste and aroma so gentle and mellow offer admiring feelings of a graceful lady. Enjoy soft and juicy Kasugai Muscat Gummy.”) Shocking, that something made of muscat grapes would taste like this candy. Shocking, indeed!

In any case, this wine is very pleasant, with a low alcohol content that keeps it light on the tongue and very sweet indeed.

BUY IT AGAIN: Yum, yes.

As I said in my very first review here at Boozy McGuzzles, Cline wines are an amazing and lovely thing. The one afternoon I spent in Sonoma was so special and so wonderful, that whenever I see a wine from any of the three wineries we visted (Mayo Family Winery, Chateau St. Jean, and Cline Cellars), I sort of feel compelled to buy them. They’re the most beloved wines of my dear friends, and they’re just damn good.

When I was celebrating… something… possibly the fact that it was Friday? Maybe I’d just gotten paid? I don’t know, but there was some reason I was buying a large number of bottles of wine (mostly vinho verdes, as it is summer), and I espied a Cline wine in the liquor store’s refrigerated case, and I had no choice but to buy it. I’d likely had some whites in my tasting when I was there, but none that I could remember. I am beginning to think myself a fan of Viogniers, so I was happy to snap it up.

And oh, oh, it was so lovely. This was a wine that was just enchanting, especially for its price. It had a heady aroma of peaches, but was not overly sweet; that was the real amazing thing about it, the way it managed its sweetness. This wine had all these wonderful notes of honey and sweet fruits, but without really being sweet or cloying at all. Absolutely beautiful.

BUY IT AGAIN: Oh, yes.

Honestly, I don’t know why I even bother to review vinho verde wines, because I’ve never met one I didn’t like. But today’s trip to the liquor store (as I am on VACATION and will be until next Monday, and thus will spend the whole time drinking and playing video games) revealed that Astor had a new vinho verde in stock! One I had never had before! Naturally, I snapped it up. It’s at a slightly higher price point than the general vinho verde stock, but still under $10.

Casa de Sezim is not nearly as bubbly as many of the other vinho verde wines I’ve tried; I have a suspicion this has something to do with its higher alcohol content. Most vinho verdes run between 9-10% alcohol; this one is 12.5%. But, this lack of effervescence does not make it any less of a wine. It’s a little heavier on the tongue, and doesn’t have the strong lemony, citrusy flavor that a lot of other vinho verdes have. This, instead, has a strong scent of peach! I would call this one a more serious vinho verde, better suited to go with food–it sort of begs for seafood, or something a little spicy–than the usual light sippin’ wine that is other vinho verdes.

I really have no idea what the proper way to pluralize vinho verde is. Forgive me, I don’t speak Portuguese. But if I keep loving Portuguese wines this much, I’m going to have to learn.

BUY IT AGAIN: Of course!

IT’S SO HOT UGH HELP IT’S SO HOT NEW YORK IN SUMMER IS SO GROSS HELP HELP HELP.

Uh. By which I mean, it has been a while since I have posted, especially with any reviews! Don’t worry, I’m still drinking! Drinking so much I can’t be bothered to write! But time to break the drought with some more vinho verde. I’m sorry, red wines, I love you, but I don’t think I can drink you until like October, because you make me sweat.

Fâmega is, as all vinho verde wines, light and fantastically refreshing. This one is bubblier than most, with a light citrus flavor, and also some hints of actual green flavors… sort of crisp and almost vegetable. Celery? I don’t know, I feel like that sounds like a bad thing to say that wine tastes like, but people say wine tastes like all kind of stupid things. The bubbles are really at the forefront, sharp and pleasing on the tongue, and the wine is only a little sweet. This wine is crisp and refreshing, and perfect for disgusting hot New York nights.

Damn it, I moved up to the north to escape terrible weather! No one told me that New York summers were basically as bad as Nashville summers! Son of a–!

Anyway, Fâmega rosé to follow! Possibly. Depends. You know how it is.

BUY IT AGAIN: ALL SUMMER LONG.

Discovering vinho verde was basically what kicked me over into being a serious wine drinker. Sometime last summer, I stumbled into the much-spoken-of Astor Center, and saw they had a display of Portuguese wines. Vinho Verde, they were called. “Green wine?!” I thought, and bought the one in a green glass bottle, with a vague hope the liquid inside would actually be green. It was not, but it was delicious.

Here is your required spiel behind vinho verde: it is called “green wine” because they are extremely young wines, aged only a year or less. The word “verde” is pronounced as only one syllable, because this is Portuguese, not Spanish.

I freaking love vinho verde wines. There is no better summer wine. They are across the board light, crisp, and delicious, perfect for a hot summer night. You have to seriously try to find one that costs more than $10. The average price on bottles I have had—bottles of wine that was seriously good— is about $6. Portuguese wines in particular seem to go for pretty cheap. I believe I have read that this is because Portuguese wines (other than port) don’t yet have the importing clout in America yet. So take advantage of this while you can, before people catch on to this fantastic secret.

Ouro Verde is my favorite of all of the many, many vinho verdes I have had, and it makes me sad that I can only find it through the delivery service that brings me my groceries (news flash: living in New York City is incredibly awesome). It is bright and crisp on the tongue, with very clear citrus notes, and just enough sweetness to make me happy. This wine is just slightly effervescent… not enough to be called a true sparkling wine, but with enough bubbles to feel fantastic when going across your tongue. Vinho verdes are lower alcohol wines, this one in particular being only 9.5% alcohol, so you can comfortably drink it and get a pleasing buzz, instead of totally knackered.

It’s not summer weather yet here in NYC at all, and thank God for that, but when it is, I will go back to drinking nothing but these perfections of white, the vinho verdes.

BUY IT AGAIN: Yes, yes, a thousand times yes.

I have no shame in saying that I like a sweet drink now and then, and quite enjoy meads and honey wines. For a while I was really enjoying tej, the Ethiopian answer to honey wine, which I found less cloying-sweet and more true to the flavor of honey than some other meads I had tried.

But the last time I went looking for tej, I found none. Astor Center was out of it, and it has not returned. In its place was Herr Dürer’s gluüweins, available in both weiss and, uh, whatever is german for red. The giant liter bottle is decorated with a lot of German words, and a picture of a scenic snow-covered German village. It was also only $6. I bought it on a goof. I bought it in December on a goof.

It sat on the liquor shelf for months. I kept threatening that I would drink it. I think this sort of beverage is often consumed hot, so I kept saying I would simmer me up a pot come the first snow, which came very late this year. But I didn’t. And I didn’t drink it, and didn’t drink it, and didn’t drink it, until a few nights ago, when I threatened that I would for REALZ this time, and put it in the fridge. And then later, put it in the freezer. I was expecting ill humors, indeed, and the colder the better.

The smell is powerfully sweet, almost exactly like getting a fat snootful of honey. My first reaction on taking a sip was “This tastes like bee pee! Or diabetic fairy urine! It’s just what I expected!” But as I kept drinking it (of course I kept drinking it!) it revealed itself to not be quite as terrible as I thought. Yes, it is very sweet. But it has a strong, true taste of honey, and a bit of nice spice to it, too. …It’s still an utterly ridiculous bottle of alcohol, but not one I should have been afraid of for three and a half months.

BUY IT AGAIN: Geez, probably, I’m prone to fits of madness and fugue states like that.