This past week, after visiting a new client in Palafrugell, we spent an incredible night in a sleepy seaside pueblo called Llafranc, approximately 135 km northeast of Barcelona. It was a chance for us to get away for a night as a couple, far from tweets, status updates and cellphones!

This coastal section of Catalunya is known as the Costa Brava, stretching from Blanes, 60 km northeast of Barcelona, all the way to the French border. Costa in both Catalan and Castellano means ‘coast’, while Brava means ‘rugged’ or ‘wild’. In the 1950’s, under Franco, the government destined this area as the sweet holiday spot of Spain, hoping that substantial developments in restaurants and hotels would entice both the Brits and the French to spend leisurely vacations relaxing along the sandy shore. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on your view, his vision was realized; and today, tourists swarm this section of Spain, half clad in flip flops and bathing suit bottoms, with a drink in hand.

As for myself, the Costa Brava holds a very special place in my heart. Not three years ago, I took my first dive into the Mediterranean on a chilly September evening, flooded with an eerie full moon’s light, swearing to myself that I would come back to live. Well, I may not have my rustic Spanish home along the sea quite yet, but at least I was able to smell the rich scent of lavender, pine and rosemary, alongside ceramic pots filled with brightly colored flowers. And as a heavy blanket of fog settled among the mountain valleys, as seen by the lighthouse just above our hotel last Monday night, I was happy to be back!

However, part of my …

I sometimes like to believe that my father is a master pyromaniac in the most docile sense of the word. The week before Independence Day, my brother and I would pile into the back of my father’s car and go for an hour and half car ride north to Wisconsin, where it is legal to buy firecrackers, but just not use them. I remember these times fondly, walking into makeshift tents set up alongside the highway lined with dozens of cardboard boxes overflowing with clown colored tubes with names like Bottle Rockets and Dragon Twisters. My dad would always break the bank that day, and like a kid in a candy store, he couldn’t say no to things that light up the sky and go BOOM!

But our revelry as a family lasted only one day of the year, while here in Catalunya, the Revetlla de Sant Joan, complete with enormous bonfires and imaginary beings, is characterized by a week long celebration of explosions. For approximately seven days, you hear nothing but the constant sound of warfare, until the night of June 23rd, when children, grandparents and people of all races and religions gather together to go absolutely flippin’ insane. Imagine walking through your local park, and literally having firecrackers come at you from every direction. Five year olds chucking small firecrackers at your feet, grandma lighting Roman Candles at a 45 degree angle, teenagers igniting bottle rockets directly at their buddies, smoke everywhere, and you, in the middle of it all, praying that you can just get to the other side of the 200 meter park without having your eye taken out.

Where does this complete chaos stem from? La Nit de Sant Joan, St …

At the end of March, we threw a little shindig for Ryan on his birthday consisting of wine, mounds of grilled butifarra and dozen friends. And with the appropriate social graces, many of our friends came bearing gifts, all looking distinctly similar to a bottle of wine. Clearly, they had been well versed in the ways of gift giving for an uber-wine geek!

The Rimarts Brut Reserva from Sant Sadurni d’Anoia is one of Ryan’s birthday bottles which has been sitting patiently in the refrigerator just waiting for the right moment to be uncorked. And today just happens to be the lucky day as new friends for the States have been invited for a traditional Catavino Cookout on our terrace complete with grilled chicken, butifarra, grilled peppers, artichokes, and of course, regional cured hams and cheeses.

The strangely appropriate timing of this grand uncorking comes just one day before DO Cava releases their brand new image, coupled with the new slogan, “From the Land to the Heart”. Can you hear the violin’s playing the background and feel the gentle wind ruffling your hair, as you overlook their vast, rolling vineyards? As told on the Wines of Spain website, the idea behind this heart warming slogan according to DO Cava’s Regulating Council, Gustavo García Guillamet, is to encompass the entire winemaking process, from the very earth where, “Cava is born as a gift for the senses, wooing one’s emotions and going straight to the heart”. Question: Do you suddenly feel compelled to savor a glass of cava based on this eloquent and moving slogan? Are your keys in hand prepared to buy up a few cases of brut, brut nature and semi seco cava?

But wait, there’s …

Today, I have a treat for myself. I need a treat. It’s been one of those weeks that leaves you wondering why you even bother going to bed, since you’ll be up at back at work the minute you wake up again. Recently, my days have started to feel drawn out and full of ups and downs, and to be honest, I really didn’t want to participate in this month’s Wine Blog Wednesday even though the theme, Old World Reisling, is something I truly adore. I just don’t have the energy, but then I decided to change my attitude to become a little more relaxed and calm.

The reason I love Old World Reisling is for one simple reason, or rather one particular man, Terry Theise. If you’re not familiar with his name, please stop reading and go to his page at Skurnik Wines. Download all of his wine catalogs and start reading veraciously. I can wait. In fact, if you don’t make it back here, I excuse you, because these catalogs are too good to be true.

To be honest, I’m not much of a writer, nor am I much of a reader. And because I love them both, we call this a conundrum. I write here, and I read there, and I sometimes find myself feeling a little empty. Maybe it’s the content, the subjects or both. I’m not really sure, but when I went looking for information on one of my Reislings today, I found Terry.

Mind you, if it weren’t for this man, I wouldn’t be appreciating these bottles of wine right now. It would be equivalent to using the 100 point …

As a wine geek/wine blogger/wino, one of the questions I often get from my non-geek friends is what I mean when I say a wine is “varietally correct”. It often comes up when someone brings over a wine to our house that they wish our opinion on. Often times the wine is perfect for enjoying in one another’s company, yet nothing to make me jump up and down with vinous joy! I often will, out of habit, mention that the wine is varietally correct when it’s a single varietal bottling, such as a Garnacha from the Priorat. If I mention the varietal correctness, I’m referring to the fact that the wine exhibits all the characteristics of a Garnacha made in the Priorat. In this case, there would be minerality combined with deep, rich, red fruits and black pepper notes. These are the wines I like to turn to when teaching or doing a seminar, as they are the wines that help people to learn a region’s style and tipicity.

Today, however, I would like to talk about the other side of varietal correction, that which is varietally incorrect, inspired by a wine I tasted and an article I read recently. Last week, while visiting with the owner and viticulturist of a cava house, we were given the opportunity to taste both an example of his cavas and of his still wines. Although his cavas were notable, the Avi Ton, a monovarietal wine made with 100% Xarel.lo, was for me exceptional and it turned out possessed a heritage uniquely tied to the property. The story goes that the owner discovered that while the vines located in one part of his property were 100% Xarel.lo, they turn out …