Ok, jetlag is done, culture shock is mitigated, and my life is starting to get back to its crazy usual self. I’ve inoculated my system with some fresh Iberian wines and assorted tapas. So what happened in Minnesota you may ask? Well a lot. One wedding, one 60th birthday party and at least 4 wine filled dinners. So rather than give you a play by play, I’ll bullet point some of the highlights and ask you a few questions, or rather, state some observations from the visit.

Jason Kallsen, the man behind the World Class Wines Blog, invited me to talk about blogging and Iberian wine on the second night I was in town! Thankfully, it was a great success. Held at the cafe across the street (space purposes) from SoloVino in St.Paul, we talked about wine, blogging and the intersection of the two. Take away thoughts? Well, I was shocked by how few of the “wine geeks” in attendance actually read blogs. While about half had read a blog, very few actually frequented them. If anyone who attended has anything to say about this, please chime in!

I tasted wines twice with old buddies/wine geeks. First night, I tried two Pinot Noirs, one of which was a Bergstrom 2002 PN that was beautiful, seductive, and well worth it. The other, as a result of my desire to carry over wines that were unique and different, was a Kosta Brown RRV 2005 that was undrinkable, or at the least, not a wine that I would ever purposefully go out and buy. Hot, thick, clunky, this was a wine that was better distilled than consumed. Oh, and at 14.7% alcohol?! Give …

Gabriella and Ryan would like to welcome all of you who read the recently published article in the Star Tribune, our hometown paper from Minneapolis, Minnesota. Bill Ward, the Star Tribune’s wine and food writer, was kind enough to meet with Ryan, while sending some additional questions to Gabriella, in order to profile our entertaining and unexpected journey.

Having just read the article, we feel that Bill did a great job overall, and despite some left out content and a few errors (such as the word el enchufe being misspelled as el enfouche), we’re ecstatic to have all of you join us from the Twin Cities. That said, we’d like to personally introduce ourselves and direct you to some of our favorite links, sites, and stories! Oh, and for those of you who only caught the article in the paper, continue on to Bill Ward’s blog to read some quotes from our lunch!

So welcome, one and all, and we hope that a few of you stick around and continue to follow us. If you know what RSS is, you can subscribe to Catavino here, and if you want to just sign up for our monthly newsletter (completely independent content) you can do so in the side bar to the right of this post.
About Catavino - General links to info about who we are

People - Who we are, and the various guest contributors we have pitch in from time to time.
The Story of Catavino (more or less) - A short recap of why and how we started blogging.
Ratings Policy - As Bill mentioned, we …

Officially, we are melting into the Catalunyan soil. Temperatures have risen up to 94 degrees F, which may not be that hot many of you suffering in 100+ degree temperatures, but after 2 months of rain and chilly temperatures, this seems like a sauna to us poor folk.

Yet, despite the toasty weather, its exciting to finally ring in the season with our first bottle of Manzanilla. La Bota De Manzanilla #8 “Las Cañas”, by Equipo Navaras, is from the oldest manzanilla in the house of M. Sánchez Ayala, situated in the Barrio de la Balsa in Sanlúcar de Barrameda. This much I know to be accurate, but if you look at the bottle, listing the number “8″ and “Las Cañas” on the left hand side of the bottle, with “La Bota de Manzanilla” on the right hand side of the bottle, it tends to get a little confusing as to what this all means. Let’s see if I can sort it out a bit to give a little clarity to their story.

First off, Equipo Navaros is comprised of a group of sherry lovers who happened by a dozen old, and especially tasty, butts of amontillado in Sanlucar that had been left to age flawlessly without being sold. Seeing an opportunity in the making, they bottled the equivalent of one “butt” and sold it under Edgar Allen Poe’s famous short story, “The Cask of Amontillado” (highly suggest reading this wonderfully creepy story!). After experiencing the success garnered from this small 600 bottle production among friends and family, they continued seeking more rare sherry treasures, which resulted in two additional selections in 2006. Clearly, their success extended outside the bounds of their immediate circle, …

Funny how even my most random experiences always seem to come back to wine.

Last Tuesday, I had one of those mornings where you wake up with a small laundry list of errands you want to get done for the day, while breathing shallow wondering how you’re going to magically accomplish it all. We all know this feeling, and it’s not a relaxing one.

Washing up and dressing quickly, I ran out the door completely oblivious to the fact that I still had a mascara line sweeping off the left eye from the day before, looking frighteningly similar to a member of Kiss. Note to self: mirrors were actually made for a reason.

My day had officially begun, albeit on a stressful note. With umbrella in hand, I strolled through the lush green park of Parque Vallparadis to the government center where I stood in line for an hour to get my new identity card. Having failed miserably, because I didn’t humor the bureaucratic Gods with enough unnecessary paperwork, I left cursing under my breath as I continued on to our local bread shop located halfway across town. Clearly, this was not a good omen for the rest of my day.

With a piping hot loaf of crusty French baguette under my left arm, savoring the delicious yeasty aromas, I started my ascent up the hill towards the grocery store. But as I was nearing the crest of the hill, I noticed a stream of water snaking down the slope directly through my legs. Feeling a slight chill from the light misty rain, I concluded that the stream couldn’t have been naturally created, yet I couldn’t see the origin began. That was until….not two minutes later a thundering swishing sound came barreling over the hill coming …

Today, it’s not raining. This is something to celebrate, because although we need more rain, we were dying for a little moral boost. It’s been 3 weeks straight of cloudy skies, and while I appreciate what it has done for our rooftop garden and beautiful park across the street, I do miss sitting on the roof watching the sunset. Thus tonight, while the clouds are still creeping around the edges, is an evening to lounge on the roof and enjoy warm summer breezes and twinkling stars. It will be one of our first nights of the season, requiring a bottle of Alvarino paired with figs, fresh bread, smoked salmon, semi cured Manchego cheese and Boquerones, or, white anchovies.

Now many of you will immediately hear anchovy and think “Ewww, those oily, over salted, fishy tasting strips!” Now, while I also love this type of anchovy that you are thinking of, especially when wrapped around green olives on long toothpicks, this is not what I’m talking about. I’m referring to a long, white fillet that is soaked in vinegar and oil, and often eaten as is with your drink of choice. I love them! I can’t get enough. Slightly sweet with just a delicate vinegar edge to them. They are light slivers of candied sea water. At their best, they have a very firm flesh that gently gives way as you savor them on your palate. You will often see them in any local bar sitting in a shallow yellow oil, just waiting to be served. Honestly, they may not look very appetizing when placed behind a glass display, but they’re a local delicacy and worthy of an order. Commonly, they’ll be served to you in a plain …