After a thorough study of the three sherries of Lustau---the Fino, the Manzanilla Papirusa, and the estimable Rare Amontillado Escuadrilla (which everyone should immediately go out and get a bottle), and properly stoking ourselves with piquillo and pimiento and such, we adjourned to the dining room, where our hostess delighted us by serving up the very prettiest of yellow gazpachos ever seen.
Quite a simple recipe---and I firmly believe all the best gazpachos are basically simple and reliant on freshness above all---with direct, immediate and singularly intense flavors, the gazpacho was a blend of Yellow Heirloom tomatoes at their perfect point of ripeness, finely minced crisp and crunchy yellow peppers, yellow onion, a sizable amount of cucumber (crunch, crunch, crunch), white wine vinegar, olive oil, and just the tiniest bit of garlic. Each spoonful was a burst of yellow flavor in the mouth. Our hostess blushed modestly when praised, and said she had gotten the recipe from a local favorite restaurant, Szmania, owned by Chef Ludger Szmania. So we praised them both, him for design and her for execution!
And against this I bravely put a handy little blanco from Catalunya, the Can Feixes Blanco Seleccion 2009, from the highest elevation vineyards in the region, a surprising blend of familiar cava grapes of the region, and some not so familiar---Parellada (40%), Maccabeo (34%), Chardonnay (20%) and Malvasia (6%). It was beautiful in its poise and balance, with just the right amount of acidity, just the right amount of countering richness and body, and just the right light touch of floral and spice fragrance. Nicely done indeed, with each grape proportionately filling out the wine to a full roundness.
Lemon citrus, touch of zest; soft, ripe green melon; more citrus; yellow plums (mirabelle); bit of peach right in the middle; and the jasmine spice of Malvasia at the end. Nary a whisper of oak or vanillin, because it's from stainless steel. And although simple, intense dishes, such as this gazpacho, are the very devil to match with wine because they provide that challenge of simplicity, this complex little white, with all its charm, stepped up to to the occasion without faltering or fading, either in fruit or acid.
Also paired up with the Yellow Gazpacho, and [Warning: out of place sports metaphor] coming in hard and high from outer left field (with this crowd, you always have to stay alert and expect the unexpected) was an unknown-to-me Gewurztraminer from an unknown-to-me little winery called Windy Point.
The Windy Point Dry Gewurztraminer 2009 is that marvel of west coast Gewurz---dry (!), balanced, restrained exuberance of spice, and (glory) high acidity!. I'll forgive them for claiming it is Alsatian---I understand why they say it; I just don't agree with it, because this is little more than a nod and a wink to Alsace---and why should it be more, because it's a proud little grape from the western end of the Yakima Valley, and therefore a damned fine and absolutely surprising little gem of a Gewurztraminer in its own right.
But as I said, I understand the urge, because this Gewurz clearly stands out from the area, and harkens to a bit of the Alsace touch: viscosity and body without heaviness or clumsiness, ripe fragrance without dime-store perfume, and a clear acid snap at the finish (unusual for Gewurz). Not an Alsacian, then---bit too much of the west coast baby fat and talcum powder for that---but a damned fine wine. Neat trick, avoiding the blowsiness common to this grape/region combination, while also avoiding that often disconcerting bitterness on the finish these wines can have.
Since this is the only wine I've had from this vineyard, can't speak of a track record, but I can say that if these folks can repeat this performance, they have a winner on their hands. And I'm hoping for that.
Next Up: the Paella finally makes its long delayed entrance, and the profligacy of wine continues unabated, with a Bierzo, a west coast Marechal Foch, and others...