The Great Indy Wine Fest: An affair to remember!

A week ago last Friday, the gourmands and bon-vivants of Central Indiana had a chance to quite literally put their glass where their mouth is, and enjoy some good old-fashioned fun around a bottle, or hundreds of bottles as it were. Those who paid a (miserly) $50 to get in had their pick of 402 wines. The generous folks who parted with $100 were rewarded with another 50 pricier bottles.

Once upon a time, such tastings might have been long on cheap bottles. This time though, there was no such frugality on display. The wine was spread across 58 tables at the Grand Indiana Roof Ballroom, which provided ample space for revelers to cheer and chat with old and new chums.

400 wines in three hours work out to a little more than two wines per minute, a vigorous pace even for hardened aficionados. As much as I would have liked to be up to the challenge, I had to focus. So I set my sights on four "targets".

First, pinot noir, because it's hard to find a good one. At its best, this is an enchanting grape that leaves your palate tasting like a thousand blossoms. Alas, it's not frequently found at its best. More often than not, it's a nondescript brew that falls short of the mark.

Second, zinfandel, because it is the American grape, even though it traces its lineage to the little-known Plavac of Serbia. Like the Malbec in Argentina, or Shiraz in Australia, however, it has found its terroir of predilection in California, where it reaches heights seldom encountered in its homeland.

Third, sauvignon blanc, because, I grew up in the midst of what you might call the sauvignon blanc "belt" of France, an area smack in the middle of the country that encompasses the vineyards of Sancerre, Reuilly, Quincy, Mennetou-Salon, Cheverny, and part of Touraine. Being surrounded by such abundance at an age when boys like to try "adult things", I did taste quite a few of them, including many memorable specimens.

Lastly, sweet wines, because they are under-appreciated gems that deserve more recognition than they get. Some of the oldest wines in the world are from that category, and all the wine-growing areas make them, for good reason: they cheer people up, making them ideal companions for celebrations, as well as useful ice-breakers. In addition, they are very stable and will keep almost forever, even under less than optimal conditions.

(Despite my stated focus, I confess to numerous exceptions as I came across intriguing bottles in my journey around the room.)

Rather than posting my notes in one endless blog, I thought they might be more digestible if I served them in small sips over a few weeks. So, tonight, I will start by sharing my thoughts about the wines from table 57: the House of Torres.

Miguel Torres is a celebrated wine maker. The scion of a wine-making family that goes back to the 17th century, he inherited extensive vineyards in the family cradle of Catalonia in Northeastern Spain. Under his leadership, the Torres holdings grew even wider, adding properties in Southern Chile, Sonoma, and, more recently, Ribera del Duero in Western Spain. He is a man who knows what he is doing. Trained as a scientist with degrees from France's leading wine-making schools, he has worked tirelessly to modernize the Spanish and Chilean wine industries with numerous innovations touching every aspect of grape cultivation and wine-making.

I discovered his wines more than 20 years ago, after reading effusive praise from Tom Stevenson, the Sotheby's wine auctioneer. I tried them in earnest, repeatedly, but, much to my disappointment, they did not do much for me. (There was one odd exception: Torres 10, a very fine brandy that I highly recommend. If you can find it, splurge. You won't be disappointed. It is much better than many overpriced French cognacs that trade on their names.)

I tried entry-level bottles (Sangre de Toro, Coronas), as well as finer ones (Viña Magdala, Gran Sangre de Toro, Gran Coronas). I even tried the flagship Mas La Plana, a single-vineyard wine that is the pride of the house. They were pleasant and well-made, but somehow, failed to excite. I tried them over a range of years, starting with the 1982 and 1983 vintages, and on through the 90s. They were good, but not the sort of thing that bowls you over and makes you return to the store the next day because you just must have a case of it.

Sangre de Toro (2007) and the 2004 Mas la Plana were available for tasting at the Wine Fest. Sadly, they fell short again. Good, but not great. On the other hand, the inexpensive Esmaralda ($9), an unusual blend of Moscatel and Gewürtztraminer, was quite pleasant, and a great thing to stock for the dog days of summer. There was also a newcomer: Celeste (2004), a tempranillo from Ribera del Duero which made an impressive showing: deep, concentrated, complex, with powerful aromas, it had the richness that I never quite found in the others Definitely a buy in my judgment.

Since good surprises often come in pairs, I have since tasted another impressive Torres wine: Tormenta, a 100% cabernet sauvignon from the Curico area of Chile. Not unlike the Celeste in style, although from a different grape, it is even more tannic and concentrated. I found it to be quite stunning frankly, and, for $10 a bottle, well worth stashing away. If this is a specimen of the wines that Miguel Torres has labored to create in the Southern fringes of the Chilean vineyard, it is a good omen. We will be looking eagerly for others as they may well outclass their Spanish and Californian cousins.

Next installment: wines from Chile: Casa Lapostolle, Natura (Emiliana), Cono Sur, Root1, Ventisquero