My New Expense Account Rocks

It is a tough transition from owner to employee, but having sold the Lab I am managing to struggle through.

I have discovered one sensational silver-lining: My corporate expense account.

I was told by the new ownership that I should not be shy about food and entertainment expenses where, in my judgement, the prestige of the Lab would benefit.

So I went to lunch in Melbourne, Australia and expensed the whole thing.

Foul-mouthed, fire-breathing celebrity chef Gordon Ramsay has opened a new outlet for his Maze restaurant in the Metropol annex of the Crown Casino. I'm not sure it justifies the Hell's Kitchen bullying, but the food is sensational. I don't even like cauliflower and am still jonesing for more of the velouté. But the quality of the food is almost beside the point, because the wine list is... I'm afraid my own refined sense of hyperbole may fail me here... the wine list is perhaps the best I've ever seen.

Which is not what you would expect in the opulent decadence of a casino-adjacent, hotel bistro. But there it was, a leather-clad binder sitting on my lap.

Page 1, sparkling by the glass: André Clouet, Rosé, NV. That must be a misprint.

But I turned through the pages of the list, I found each a revelation. Outstanding local wines from Ocean Eight and Punch. Grower Champagnes. Interesting examples from small producers in the Jurancon and from Provence.

How does this happen? In a casino no less? We're definitely not in Vegas, Toto. Or Macau for that matter.

The list has been painstakingly assembled by Lincoln Riley, an award-winning sommelier who has apparently been given some latitude to build a list that's a little unusual and well worth raving about.

Lincoln is an unpretentious, amiable fellow. He possesses that rare combination of being deeply knowledgeable about wine without being boring. Lincoln gets really excited about the wines he pours and his enthusiasm is contagious. I mentioned in passing that I thought the Mornington Peninsula was, thanks to global warming, emerging as a top-flight wine region. He started bouncing in his shoes, then disappeared into the cellar to emerge quickly with a Chardonnay from Allies, an indie producing team, that I'd not previously known.

From a single vineyard, Garagiste, Chardonnay 2008, has amazing depth and structure. It's linear in a way that implies walking up a staircase. The mandarine acidity on the finish literally feels like it happens on a different level of your palate. Pear fruit and ginger spice play tug-o-war with your tongue. It probably needs 12 months for the oak to settle, but this was a remarkable and intriguing stretch of the standard definition of Chardonnay. And confirms my global warming theory.

Under Riley's stewardship (get it?), Maze is launching a series of Sommelier tasting menus and a private Sommelier's dining area. So my only concern now is how many times can I come back here before accounting starts to kick back the receipts?

Mh goi (means thanks) to Alicia for organizing and for sending the top photo of the Sommelier's room.

Grand Opening: Guangzhou Labs

I admit it has taken us a bit longer than expected to get things going in Hong Kong, but we are finally open for experiment in Guangzhou.

I'm not exactly sure why the delays, but here's a little insight into how Hong Kong works.

I took the elevator down to the lobby of our new building. I asked the woman working at reception where the post office was.

With a bright smile, she effectively told me, "You can't get there from here."

It was too far to walk. Too short to taxi. There was a bus, but the stop wasn't convenient and you might have to transfer to get back. She got out maps to show me. A colleague joined her. Both of them trying their best to be helpful as they delivered the disappointing news that the post office was beyond my reach.

By the time I stepped away from the desk, even their manager had joined the discussion.

I thanked them for their help and trudged slowly back to the elevator banks. I was dejected, my disappointment obvious in the slump of my shoulders. I could feel their pitying stares on my back, when one of them asked, "What you need at Post Office?"

Stamps, I said.

"Oh, stamps! We have stamps right here."

Hong Kong is efficient. Hong Kongers are eager to be helpful, almost obsequiously so. But it helps to know how to ask for what you want, directly and without abstraction.

The Martini Shot

DIRT DINNER. Last Part.

In Hollywood, the Martini Shot is the last shot of the day. Legend has it this is because the next shot comes out of a glass.

And so out of glass, we chased the end of our farewell evening.

The wine from the Chateau d'Yquem is arguably the greatest Sauternes in the world. Though I don't know who you'd get to argue about this. The Chateau Raymond-Lafon is famous for being next door to the Chateau d'Yquem, and its wines are often marketed as such. The "shelf-talker" next to the bottle I bought said, "Next-door to Yquem for 1/3 the price!" (Maybe it was 1/8th... I don't remember exactly).

Raymond-Lafon is owned by Pierre Meslier and his family. Meslier was the long-time manager of Yquem. So there is more than just geographical proximity in play.

And yet, there is nothing similar about these wines. Except for the fact they are wines.

The Raymond-Lafon smelled like caramelized prunes and tastes of sweet apricot jam. There was nothing that suggested proximity to Yquem. No common thread. No shared Dirt.

The Yquem meanwhile was beguiling. A seductive enigma. An aromatic Siren. One amongst us said dreamily, "I just want to keep smelling this. Forever."

At a point in the evening when we were all half in the bag, this wine gently and unpretentiously claimed our full attention. It was a mind-spinning, ethereal swirl of apple and pear, quince, pineapple, fresh apricot, lime pith, honey, vanilla, firefly glow and white magic.

It simply stole the show.

The perfect wine to end a beautiful dinner with dear friends. To toast the Rational Denial Lab's illustrious tenure in Los Angeles and to christen our forthcoming Asian adventure.

So that, everybody, is a wrap.

Stay tuned.

Look What the (Siamese) Cat Dragged In

Is it more racially insensitive that I find it fun to make puns with colonial-era Asian place names? Or that I use them interchangeably, as if Thailand and China were just one big "Asialand"?

While you form your views on that, I'm happy to report that even before we've officially opened the doors of the Lab's new Ghaungzhou facility, we have welcomed our first visitor.

In town for Altaya Wines "Passion for Pinot 2010" event, Pyramid Valley Winery's Mike Weersing dropped by the Lab's HK executive suites carrying a bottle of the current release of his Earthsmoke Vineyard Pinot Noir, 2008.

The wine is unfiltered, unfined and only modestly sulphured, and so is a light, cherry red and a little, dare I say... murky. The nose is a delicate mix of chalky soil, orange -- blossoms and oil -- a late rush of red fruits and a green note that I would have previously associated with stems.

Mike mentioned that he gets that comment often about this wine, but the truth is they do not press whole cluster, but fastidiously de-stem all the fruit by hand and so press whole fruit. He thinks the aroma may have something to do with the fermentation that starts inside the berry before being crushed.

The wine tastes much like it smells, with sour cherry and currant layered in. It is distinctly linear, taut, and pulsing with a tensile energy.

When I tasted the first vintage from this vineyard, 2006, it reminded me much of the Burgundy made by Michel Lafarge in Volnay. But the more experience I gain with this wine, the more it tastes like itself. I still think the flavor profile and structure is reminiscent of the French counterpart. But the profoundly earthy note that forged the link on my original impression seems, in this bottle, to be less like Lafarge's newly turned soil and more chalky and dry. Perhaps more like Canterbury dirt?

A final note for the big geeks out there (you know who you are): This wine is very high pH. Something like 4.2 (with 3.6-3.8 being "normal"). As part of his evolving non-interventionist philosophy, Mike eschews acidifying his wines now. Preferring to take them as they come, as it were. In spite of the high pH, this wine was fresh, youthful and lively. It offered more than sense of acidity than actual acidity.

Curious to see what this drinks like in five years time.

What's the word...?

Pseudo-science dominates the discourse at the Lab. We're proud of the experimental work we do. And every so often scientific observation leads to... what's that word that journalists use when one guy gets the story before the other?

Oh, yeah, a BIG SCOOP.

The Lab scooped Decanter Magazine!

This is the headline from the "Latest News" section of the Decanter website: Bordeaux Fever Hits Hong Kong (May 25, 2010).

Tell us something we don't know.

(Onya Shane!)

The Lab is Moving to Hong Kong

One of our new interns stopped me in the hall and said (I'll quote her verbatim):

"Kipling's been dead for, like, a long time. You need to be less oblique. Say what you mean or people won't get it."

Fair enough.

The Lab is moving to Hong Kong.

After Pears, A New Adventure

There's no gift shop at the Pear Distillery. Not much of anything really. So it wasn't much of a surprise when the man sitting in the waiting room followed me out of the building.

He told me his name was Li Ping. He had read an article I'd written for the Journal of Oenological Lab Management on the benefits of outsourcing and wanted to discuss the implications with me. He'd called my office at the Lab and been told where I was. It did cross my mind that tracking me down in the Australian outback to discuss cost efficiencies was a bit strange. But I didn't have much else to do. After breakfast, Chinskirin had taken enough codeine to put down a bear. He'd be out all day.

So we found a cafe in downtown Shepparton and ordered two coffees.

When the drinks arrived, Li Ping handed me an envelope. In it was a letter from his boss, a Hong Kong real-estate tycoon who wished to remain anonymous. I read the letter curiously. It offered enthusiasm for my ideas about managing experimental costs via offshore lab facilities. It explained that Hong Kong has repealed the customs duty on wine with hopes of becoming a beneficial tax haven for Far East oenology. The envelope included photos of an industrial site in Guangzhou, as well as pictures of a suite of executive offices with views of the harbor in Hong Kong.

I was of course flattered by the flowery praise in the letter, but confused by the images and asked Li Ping what gives. He looked at me as if I had only the intellectual capacity of a small child and then said, slowly, so that I might understand, "My boss wants to buy your Lab and relocate your operations."

Now it was my turn to be condescending. I waved over the waitress, paid for our drinks as I pushed back my chair. "Mr Li, I'm sorry you've come so far on an empty errand. But I would never sell the Lab."

As I turned to go, he produced a second envelope from his jacket pocket. He handed it over without a word. Inside was a check. A big check. Made out to me.

"My employer hopes that you will consider continuing in your present capacity as Managing Director. He will, of course, pay all your relocation expenses. Thank you for the coffee."

With that Li Ping walked out of the cafe.

I just stood there for a while, wondering what the weather will be like in Hong Kong...

Dreaming of Pears

While Chinskirin convalesced at a local farmhouse, I took to wandering the nearby orchards.

On one of my walks, I happened upon a large, industrial building flying the tri-colors of the French flag. Given I was, at the time, walking about in the Australian countryside, I decided to investigate.

As improbable as it may sound, I had happened upon a distiller of the pear-flavored eau de vie, Poire William.

Umpteen years ago, a Frenchman on holiday discovered a bounty of fresh pears in the region, and -- to shorten the history considerably -- he partnered with a local gentleman farmer and together they (or more properly speaking, their children now...) turn between 4 and 10 tons of fruit into pear-flavored jet fuel each season. The entirety of the production is shipped back to France in specialized containers. Where it is consumed in staggering quantities by the locals.

Eau de vie in the Australian bush? It couldn't be real. The fumes leaking out from the massive still are enough to make you wobble a little. And if you sample as much as I did, it all starts to feel like a dream.

I might even have convinced myself it all had been a dream. Except for the fact that I met Li Ping in the lobby of the distillery. Ping was very real, indeed.

And he would soon bring a big change to the Lab.

More on that next time.

I'm Back!

But I'm damaged.

And it's not just about the virus that kicked me around all summer. I'm in the throes of a deeper crisis of conscience. More about that later.

In the meantime, my apologies to the Lab Staff and their families. I know how difficult this period has been for you all.

I will endeavor to bring the Lab's operations back to their former levels. But it may take a while to get fully re-started. As many of you noted when his calendar was released, I talk almost incessantly with Treasury Secretary, Tim Geithner. If he's not on the phone with Blankfein, he's calling the Lab. He's very chatty and not all that interesting. But it's going to be increasingly difficult to buy Champagne with an ever cheapening dollar, so I'm doing my part in the lobby effort. I listen to Tim ramble on about unemployment, bank reserves and the fragile housing market and then I say the same thing, "Raise rates, Tim." He tells me that it's not his call, that Ben Bernanke is in charge of stuff like that. And I point out that we both know Bernanke couldn't find inflation if it were sitting on his lap like a Cocker Spaniel -- which it is.

So stay tuned. There's a big back log of experimentation to get through.

Like Kryptonite

Thanks to everyone for the cards and wishes for speedy recovery. I should probably explain that Parvovirus is more annoying than life-threatening. So I'm very annoyed, but basically fine.

Along with low-grade fever, rash and joint pain, one of the listed symptoms of Parvovirus, or Fifth's Disease, is malaise. I seem to have malaise in spades. Not only does the ailment leave me indifferent to drinking, but when I do drink, I can literally feel the life force ebb from my system.

As a result, I've lost about 10 pounds. I'm thinking I could bottle the virus and sell it as a diet aid. Chicks in New York would pay top dollar for this stuff.

On a less entrepreneurial front, I would like to take this opportunity to apologize to the Lab staff and their families. Things will hopefully be back to normal soon. I do appreciate all the efforts to keep things going during this difficult period.

Stricken

Avoid small children if you can. Especially, your own.

Off and on, for the past several weeks, I have been running a low-grade fever and been plagued with aches and soreness. On at least one occasion my fever spiked above 104 degrees (40.2 centigrade) and I was sure I was done for. Thankfully, I survived. But my condition has kept me from the Lab. The backlog of experiments is mounting.

I've discovered today that I have Parvovirus B19 which I acquired from my otherwise delightful school-age daughter.

The best part? There's no cure. You just have to wait it out and eventually your body conquers the virus. Or you get terrible anemia and need transfusions. I'm hopeful I can avoid this eventuality.

I'll let you know.

Something New: Day 2

I've always been curious about the idea that a wine that holds up on the second day is well suited for aging. It is certainly well suited to handle exposure to oxygen for 24 hours. But is this really proof of longevity? Everybody thinks so. But everybody thinks a lot of things that aren't true.

Before you start writing letters, I'm not making any claims for or against here -- unlike the controversy I started by claiming that decanters are just for show which is definitely true, and you can write all the letters you want but the facts won't change) -- I'm just expressing a curiosity on the topic.

It's a tough hypothesis to test rigorously. But regular readers know that rigor isn't actually one of The Lab's strong suits. So we'll test it in our own way.

I figured since I'm watching the evolution of the Pyramid Valley Riesling anyway, I might just add this test to the mix. So last night, I left a single glass worth of wine in the bottle -- which did require a great deal of discipline on my part. No inert gas; no pump. I just capped the bottle and put it back in the fridge.

Twenty-four hours later...

It was still brilliant. No discernible fade. The acidity was crisp and bright. The fruit luscious. If anything the aromatics had improved.

If there's any truth in this notion, this wine should hold up for the duration.

Guess we'll see about that.

And if you do write letters, please be sure to mention the Stelvin closure (screw top) because The Lab is just looking for an excuse to enter into the whole cork controversy as well.

Dude! Where Have I Been?

Many of you have no doubt read about California's current budget situation. More than $26 billion in arrears, the state has commenced issuing IOUs to employees, service providers and other debt holders.

It's not wholly unexpected. In California, mandatory term limits for state office holders provide that a regular cycle of political amateurs are in place to manage our government. And our most exciting laws are scripted by Joe Citizen and approved by mob rule. God love popular democracy!

To solve the current crisis, clarion calls have begun to increase the State's revenue base by finally taxing California's most profitable natural resource. And we're doing our part here at the Lab. To help ease the state from its current predicament, the Lab has begun an entirely new category of research.

I'll admit, we've gotten a little lost in our current set of experiments. But what are you going to do? Duty calls...

For me?

You shouldn't have.

One of our favorite publicists sent us a Cabernet Sauvignon from Piña Napa Valley to commemorate the Lab's first anniversary.

Napa Valley, D'Adamo Vineyard, Cabernet Sauvignon, 2006.

This can't be a sample. It's a single-vineyard Cabernet. The bottle is very fancy, etched with gold. The wine-makers are actually vignerons (the Piña family have sustainably farmed vineyards in Napa for 5 generations). The wine-making is non-interventionist (mostly); the wines aren't fined, only lightly filtered, and commercial yeasts are used only minimally. This is way too nice to be a sample. Surely, this is a gift.

The Lab has a strict "No Samples" policy (presently under review by the Lab's Ethics Board). But we have no such rules against gifts.

The wine's aromas are dark berries, black cherry and kirsch, with notes of dusty sandalwood, camphor and stems. It's young; there's a phenolic bite, but still approachable with elegant, understated fruit. The barrel effects are gentle and welcoming. There's a taut structure that seems to literally spread out with time in the air; a dark chocolate finish stretches from curt to prolonged after the wine has time to breathe.

There's enough stuffing and complexity here to think that with a couple years in the cellar, this could be spectacular. And it's very good now.

Thank you!

Sorry, Honey

We have been so busy doing fake science, homage travel writing, and bad finance that we forgot all about our Anniversary!

The Lab celebrated it's birthday on the first of the month, and I totally forgot. I did wonder at the time what everyone was doing in the conference room wearing those stupid, pointy party hats.

So with apologies to all, we are celebrating the milestone today. Cake will be served in the conference room at lunch. Feel free to bring the dumb hats if you still have them.

To further commemorate the occasion, we will also be recreating our initial experiment, 5 Days in Joly, wherein we tested Loire legend and biodynamic stalwart, Nicolas Joly's, claim that his wine should be decanted "vigorously" and are best on the fifth day.

Results up in about five days.


hats: © Zts | Dreamstime.com

I'm Angry About Big Bonuses

Especially the fact that I'm not getting one.

The Lab accepted TARP funds in November. We were told it was "necessary" even "patriotic" and would prevent a run on scientific institutions everywhere. I went along with the deal. It was a big error on my part and I take full responsibility for the mistake.

Now the Treasury Department is trying to dictate terms of executive compensation at the Lab.

So I'm gassing up the Lab's corporate jet to fly to Washington to give the %$#*ing money back. We'll take a short term hit on our balance sheet and be forced into some painful de-leveraging.

But we'll take back our soul.

The Treachery of Blogs

Regular visitors know that this is not a blog.

The Rational Denial Lab is a scientific institute; these missives are but reports from the front lines of our experimental adventures.

We don't let ourselves get distracted from our mission.

We don't write about what we ate for dinner.

Or what we drank in a bar.

We don't blog.

So this leaves us with a quandary, as one of the Lab's original benefactors, David McDuff, is hosting something that those who do blog call Wine Blogging Wednesday. It's a sort of virtual tasting party with a different monthly theme.

We don't do virtual either.

But we do support our friends. A cadre of my old pals from science grad school -- mostly chemists but there is one guy from the Earth Sciences department -- get together once a month to reminisce about the glory days in our college lab and tell funny stories about proteins and aldehydic reactions.

Our next dinner is tomorrow night. We'll be pouring wine from Piedmont, Italy (McDuff's theme).

I think Magritte could live with this sort of compromise.

Our 100th Report!

I can't believe we've made it this far. In spite of top-heavy bureaucracy, invasive government oversight, steep drops in our endowment, and a general aversion to hard work of any sort, we have hung in long enough to reach the milestone of the Lab's centenary report.

Where are the little people when you need them? If only so I could say, "Hey, thanks, little guy. I'm sure your efforts were helpful, in some indirect and hard to quantify way."

I was looking around for someone... anyone really, to celebrate with. Then I remembered, it's the holiday break at the Lab. There's nobody around but me.

Which means I am definitely digging deep into the "good stuff" section of the Lab cellar.

When I wrote the original, Arbitrary Milestones post, I bet you had no idea it was going to be such a regular feature here at Rational Denial.

Happy New Year!


(image: © Dimensionsdesign | Dreamstime.com)

Happy Holidays!

We close the Lab this time of year, so that the Lab Staff may spend time with their families.

Or go to rehab.

Cheers!

Some Welcome Perspective

Yesterday, I took time out from our usual scientific reportage to write about a little personality tic of mine. My heartfelt thanks to everyone for the outpouring of sympathy and support. Your notes, cards and messages are greatly appreciated.

I'm happy to report that today, I'm feeling much better.

Mostly because my own issues seem almost trivial in the face of this guy's collection of 4180 little metal caps and army men made from Champagne closures.

I thought I was bad, but this guy is a freak. I do like his fancy website, though.

Schadenfreude is never pretty.