B.C. wines shine in New York

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      It was out of the blue, a few days before Christmas, that Shira Blustein, proprietor of Main Street’s Acorn restaurant, sent me a text. This alone isn’t an out-of-the-ordinary experience—I’ve been doing some consulting on the restaurant’s wine program over the last couple of years, along with the odd staff-training session. This particular text, though, was a ticket to adventure. Blustein and her team had been invited to do a five-night pop-up restaurant the first week of February at Exhibit C, an event space in New York City. She asked if I wanted to gather some British Columbian wine, dust off my sommelier shoes, and run the wine aspect of each evening with the vegetable-forward, five-course tasting menu the Acorn would be offering. Of course, I’m keen for any excuse to visit New York, but I absolutely relished the opportunity to share British Columbian wine with a couple of hundred people over the five nights we’d be there.

      Now, unless they’ve visited British Columbia, most New Yorkers haven’t had the opportunity to try our local juice; on a global scale, our industry is remarkably small and we consume the vast majority of it at home. When you think about it, those attending these dinners are really taking a leap of faith, having no knowledge of or experience with B.C. wine.

      Just imagine what it would be like going to a dinner where all of the wines poured were from the state of Virginia or somewhere more exotic, like the Canary Islands. It’s different when tourists visit the Okanagan Valley or wine country elsewhere in the province and experience our wines for the first time. They see the vineyards, the lake, the scrubby sagebrush growing in the south, and through chats with staff at the various wineries they visit, they receive a good dose of context and it’s much easier for them to “get it”. After all, the Guinness always tastes better in Ireland, right?

      But last week we were far away from our local vineyards and wineries, instead nestled in New York’s gritty Lower East Side, proudly pouring splashes from home alongside dishes like slow-poached and glazed heirloom carrot, chestnut cream mousse, carrot jus, caramelized coconut, carrot crumb, and bitter cress, as well as odes to the West Coast like braised sunchoke with toasted-chickpea broth, burnt-onion kelp sauce, sumac-braised chickpeas, charred collard greens, and Douglas-Fir-smoked onion. We worked with wineries that often make appearances in the Acorn’s regular wine program and also have a teeny-tiny amount of availability in the United States. On offer at the pop-up were Tantalus 2012 Riesling, Mission Hill Family Estate 2012 Reserve Chardonnay, Meyer Family Vineyards 2012 Pinot Noir, Laughing Stock Vineyards 2011 Blind Trust Red (a predominantly Merlot, Malbec, and Cabernet blend), and Martin’s Lane 2012 Riesling.

      And so, each night as we began things by introducing ourselves to the 50 or so in attendance (a nightly handful of media and restaurateurs, as well), I launched into, oh, a two-minute B.C. Wine 101 chat. Our mineral-rich soils, that natural acidity we’re blessed with, and the wide array of styles from crisp Rieslings to hearty Cabernets intrigued our audience, but collective jaws dropped each night when I mentioned that the South Okanagan is literally desert, with cacti and rattlesnakes among the vines. As you’d expect, “Canadian desert” sounds rather oxymoronic to most.

      We converted more than a few to Riesling, with many fearing they’d be super sweet and cloying, but happily gravitating to the acid-driven citrus and stone fruit both Tantalus and Martin’s Lane are known for. That natural acidity and mineral character surprised plenty in the Chardonnay; though it’s aged with American oak and quite complex, those who did away with the grape years ago enjoyed how the wine really sang. More than a few commented that Meyer Family Vineyards’ Pinot Noir had an elegant, slightly earthy Old World flavour profile that dovetailed quite nicely with its New World, cherry-driven charm. The biggest shocker, by far, was Laughing Stock Vineyards’ rich, rugged red blend from the Osoyoos desert. The refrain was “I never would have thought a wine like this could be made in Canada!”

      I cannot tell you how many people pulled me aside each night, saying how impressed, almost shocked, they were by our wines (“I thought you only made icewine!”) and asking where they can find them. (Contacting the wineries directly is the best way for Americans to get a little direction in that area.) It’s great that in this province we’re all suppor­tive of the B.C. wine industry, but it’s also extremely encouraging and heartening that outside of the comforts of home, they stand confidently on their own two feet.

      So let’s wave that flag a little more. As mentioned, availability of B.C. wine in the U.S. is extremely limited—so next time you head across the line, do tuck a bottle or two in your luggage for sharing. You’ll likely surprise your friends, perhaps because our wines will be unexpectedly delicious or because, yup, when they’re travelling through the Great White North, they could just find themselves in a desert.

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