I see you, 2016.
Why, yes, that is the new Randall Munroe book, Thing Explainer. Have I mentioned my main resolution is *still* to make him fall in love with me? #ModestGoalsfor2016.
REVIEW OF:
La Granja 360, 2014
Cariñena, Spain
$5.99 at Trader Joe’s
Monday afternoon I finally got home after my beautiful two-week stay in St. Augustine. I spent the evening — all evening — unpacking all the things, buying an insane amount of groceries and paper goods, and finally getting in a real workout. Like a person.
Today, I did something even more novel: I actually went back to work. My sleep schedule is all fucked up and I was exhausted, but being back in the office was energizing. It felt good to see everyone again and to dive back into my work.
But now that we’re back in the day-to-day swing, it’s time for day-to-day wine — although I must say, Santa was good to me this time around. I scored a sweet bottle of Aussie cab from my brother and a bottle of 2013 Caymus from my parents, both of which are waiting in my kitchen for a special-er day than the first Wednesday of the year.
Spanish Reds
Although I’ve never been to Spain, one of the best parts of my 2013 trip to Portugal was the abundance of very good (and very, very affordable) wine. I’d sit down to a meal that was €5 for everything: an appetizer, an entrée, and a dessert. A half-bottle of beautiful red Douro wine would cost no more than €2 on top of that, making a meal with a total expense whose American equivalent, about $10, I could easily spend at McDonald’s with no wine — or, come to think of it, food — to speak of.
In a store — any store, even the little dens where they sell cigarettes and bananas and little else — a decent, standard-sized bottle might go for €2-4. These are qualitatively the equivalent of our $12-$14 wines, and they offer an opportunity to sample the local flavor in a direct and delicious way.
And I’ll admit, as much as it was fun to taste the wines by themselves, the Portuguese know how to make a fine sangria. Especially white sangria. At one point, I ordered a pitcher of the stuff at a restaurant. I just happened to be by myself, and the waitress told me it would be too much for me.
So as not to embarrass myself, I didn’t push the issue, but… I knew what I’d ordered. I know what I’m about.
La Granja
Although this wine comes out of northern Spain rather than southern Portugal, it exhibits some of the same characteristics I fell in love with while I was overseas — a rustic easiness; the bright, red fruit of something young; a touch of dust.
I’ll admit to you that this bottle was a mistake on my part: I usually purchase a different bottle from the same producer, called simply “La Granja” and whose label features a pig instead of a zebra**. That bottle’s contents are made solely of tempranillo, which remains of my favorite varietals for all its simplicity. It takes to oak so well and it often, to me, exhibits cherry, a flavor I love to encounter in wine or anywhere else.
This one, “La Granja 360,” balances the somewhat neutral tempranillo with Spain’s other famous grape, garnacha (which you may know as grenache). This latter grape lends flavor and spice to the plummy tempranillo, who brings acid, tannin, and color to the party.
For six bucks, you can’t go wrong. This bottle features black and bing cherry on the nose, and on the palate, its strawberry flavor fades into plum. It’s got a medium-length finish of wood and spice: white pepper and maybe a little bit of cocoa powder. Its medium levels of acid and tannin mean it pairs equally well with Manchego cheese or dark chocolate (and yes, I’ve just described my dinner to you).
So grab a glass and raise it: cheers to 2016, in its humble moments as much as in its celebrations. It feels like it’s gonna be a good one.
That could just be the wine, though.
**I can vouch for this bottle of wine. It’s actually a buck cheaper than the one I’ve profiled here, and I’d venture to say it’s at least easier-drinking if not wholly better. But as I say, tempranillo is my fave, so I might be a little bit biased.