Inez Ribustello's Wine Blog

I’ve waited awhile to write about the competition because while I like to have things fresh in my mind, I didn’t want to come across as being the least bit disappointed in the results.  In fact, I am extremely glad I waited to blog because some revelations were made in the time period afterwards that raised my spirits and kept my eye on the glass, I mean ball.

San Francisco was amazing, and I mean absolutely amazing.  I arrived at noon on Friday and took a cab straight to Slanted Door to eat one of my favorite dishes on the planet:  California Yellowtail Sashimi with Crispy Shallots and Thai Basil.  It is one of the purest delicacies I have ever tasted, and I crave it on a daily basis.  After ordering one for my appetizer and one for my dessert, I walked a brisk walk to the Hotel Monaco where I was staying. 

To study a topic that is so broad you could potentially ask 10,000 plus questions is a daunting task.  Thanks to numerous outlines, maps, made-up tests and guildsomm.com, I felt good about the way studying was going.  I read and highlighted for about five hours before getting hungry again. 

For dinner, I made the trek to SPQR, a very hip, Italian restaurant that is relatively new.  I found myself at the bar between two incredibly nice couples, and was given the epitome of great service by a young woman bartender.  Knowing I only had one chance to order the right thing, she guided me towards the Japanese Yellowtail Dish that I will never ever forget.  Also, sashimi, yet garnished with Pickled Okra, firm Peach slices and crispy prosciutto, it was easily the best sensation I have ever encountered.  Incredible!  I followed my sensational appetizer with Roasted Corn Agnolotti and called it a night. 

Saturday consisted of breakfast at Zazie (recommended by a local, foodie friend); lunch at Zuni (the roasted chicken for two being the main focus) and a vegetarian tasting menu at the bar at Michael Mina.  Of course, my laptop and books were with me at all times, and I went to bed knowing the name of the local, pink sandstone in Alsace as well as other wonderful wine tidbits that will ultimately make me a better sommelier, and possibly a Master Sommelier.

Sunday morning came way too quickly, and the 10 contestants met in the banquet room lobby at 8 a.m. to start the competition. 

As usual, the theory kicked off the contest, and it was a rear-end kicker if there ever was one.  Sidenote:  my aunt who is Emily Post’s twin reads my blog and if I use the word ass or butt, she will starve herself from wine…oops.

Anyway, theory was insanely difficult and while I did not know what AXR stood for in AXR-1 rootstock, I did find myself lucky enough to be asked what the local, pink sandstone in Alsace was called:  Gres de Vosges. 

Pretty much all 10 competitors came out of the theory being completely humbled, and all of us agreed it was anybody’s game at this point.

Blind Tasting followed, and we were all surprised when we entered a room with 3 whites and 4 reds as opposed to the normal 3 whites and 3 reds.  The kicker:  we were still allotted the same amount of time, a mere 25 minutes.

I felt amazing after the blind tasting, not a feeling I normally feel lately as my tasting has deteriorated since having children.   It went well, and I even had time to spare to go back to wines that may not have been definites.

Service occurred after lunch, and again, it was a good feeling to be able to open a magnum of Champagne, answer questions about special club bottlings, and pair an eclectic menu with an all-Loire-wine line up.  As many of you who know me, talking is no difficult task so service is always one of my favorite parts of the Master Sommelier examination.  While this was a competition, not an exam, the service part was no different in the fact that I loved this portion the most.

Upon finishing, I took a walk around San Francisco and thought about how great life is.  The air was a cool 65 degrees and I was visiting a city famous for its all-star restaurants and wine lists doing exactly what I love:  wineing.

A wonderful reception and dinner hosted by Joy Sterling of Iron Horse Vineyards ended the day where the winners were announced.  Matt Stamps of the French Laundry in Yountville won the prize, with an outstanding second and third going to Jason Heller of Redd in Napa and Michael Meagher of Boston Sommelier Society, respectively.  It was a heck of a night and I got to see really dear friends who attended the dinner as sommelier supporters. 

I slept well that night, and I got up the next morning ready to get back to Tarboro and to my sweet family.

Cynthia, my love and oldest child (who also has no filter whatsoever), said to me upon entering our back door, “I’m tired of you not winning.”

It’s funny how a parent responds.  At one point in my life, I may have said, “I’m tired, too.”  But now, that I am older and see so many things around me, I realize deeply that winning is not even close to what it’s about. 

What it’s really about is loving what you do and loving the ones who hug and kiss you when it’s over.

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in San Francisco, at Monk’s Kettle, a beer haven recommended to me by a fellow sommelier.  My problem with wine right now (besides the obvious competition tomorrow) is that I’d rather drink beer.

It’s been a major cram session, I have to say, and right now, I don’t feel like I could tell you the red grape of Chinon, if I had to.  All right, it’s Cabernet Franc (just to make me feel good about myself), but the truth is, the only thing I’m sure of is that I am completely ready for tomorrow’s testing to be finished.

Villages that may add their names to Roussette de Bugey.  The subzones of Ribera del Guijana.  In what year was the first estate bottled Chateauneuf du Pape produced?

Can you say “Who gives a cork?”

I can.  And I’m pretty sure the other nine competitors feel the same way.

Here’s the thing.  If I win, nothing changes.  If I lose, nothing changes.  So, why am I stressing myself into a total wine oblivion?  Why do I have an ulcer on the right side of my lip?

I guess it’s the nature of the beast.  You work hard, you want to win.  But the fact of the matter is, I still wine.  I still wine no matter what.  That’s my job.  That’s my love.  That’s my life.

It doesn’t matter if I come in dead last tomorrow.  Nobody can take my wine away.  No one can take my passion for grape juice from me.  I love the nectar.  I know the vino.  I drink the juice.

So what’s the big deal?  I’m going to have another beer, and be done with all this ‘wine’ing.

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So here I am back at work in my office trying to figure out the regions of Germany when I receive an email from one of our wine purveyors featuring one of my favorite wine regions from my absolute favorite producer.

What’s a girl to do but buy a case with good intentions to sell but bad thoughts of stashing it away so no one will dare see it?

That was yesterday, and now I am back in the office-slash-wine-store-slash-disaster area, and this special wine has arrived. 

I tear open the box, and my day brightens immediately.  The vintage is 2000, and the wine is getting ready to celebrate its 10th birthday of when the grapes were harvested.  Without hesitation, I grab the bottle, get my corkscrew, find a wine glass and start tasting. 

The magic of wine is confirmed in the first sniff.  Stewed berries, Brazilian coffee, roasted corn, spicy leather and dried roses.  The aromas continue and expand as I sniff deeper and longer. 

Once I take the first sip, I know that my entire weekend will be a bitter rivalry of whether to share or protect.  It’s too delicious and too perfect not to let others have a taste of just how special wine can be.  

This wine is a love-at-first-sip wine.  A wine that makes you want more.  A wine that you don’t ever want to leave once you have it in your cellar.  It is a wine that gives you conflicting thoughts on whether to enjoy or whether to hold on for dear life because of how will you feel once it’s gone. 

I know this all sounds pretty intense, but I promise you this wine makes me feel all of these emotions, and if you are a red wine lover, I have a feeling you won’t be spared either.

Let’s talk a little bit about the wine.

Rioja–a region in Spain making red, white and rose.  The reds are Tempranillo-based, and this is the wine I am making love to as I write.  The producer is La Rioja Alta, and this particular bottling is the Vina Ardanza.  Vina Ardanza is their Reserva, meaning the wine has been aged a minimum of 3 years before being released, one year in oak and 2 years in bottle.  Allowing the wine to age on its own with no chance of being opened or drunk before it’s ready, the wine undergoes a period of maturation, where it develops and becomes more of a grown up. 

In other words, it’s like having a conversation with someone who has experience and knowledge versus talking to a toddler. 

In this case, the Vina Ardanza has about 25% Garnacha blended in with the Tempranillo.  That Garnacha gives the wine its spicy element that I, along with so many, absolutely adore.

The wine isn’t full-bodied.  I’ts sexy and pretty and elegant.  The wine isn’t laden with oak.  It has just the perfect amount of perfume.  The wine is perfectly made with grapes that have been grown in the perfect spot.  I would say this wine defines pedigree, if there ever was one. 

Am I biased?  Of course, I am.  Not because I know anyone involved in the winemaking, grape growing or anything related to the winery.  I am biased towards well made wine that defines a region and its history.  This wine is all of that and then some.

If you’re at On the Square tonight, find me.  I have 3 glasses left to share with those who are interested in the magic of wine.

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As is the case so often in life, we begin to think about people and events that took place what seems like an eternity ago.

Today, I came across a magazine edition of Slammed, a periodical dedicated to the restaurant industry.  No longer in print, I picked up this old, ragged copy with my first mentor, Kevin Zraly, on the cover.  For a wine professional to call Kevin Zraly a mentor is pretty commonplace as he is the author of one of the great wine primers ever written, Windows on the World Wine Course.  He has impacted many, many people in and out of the wine scene, and I am blessed to have had the honor to work with him.

I flipped to the end of the magazine where the editor had asked me to write a letter to Kevin.  The piece is titled Love Letter, and as the magazine is no longer around, I thought I would share it with those who may have never had the chance to read it.

Once upon a time, in a world that was so bright and sunny and so high, I met Kevin Zraly, wine educator extraordinaire.  It was on the 107th floor of One World Trade Center, and I was in the liquor room mopping up red wine.

I heard a voice coming from the door of the room saying, “Aren’t you glad you went to college for this?”  I looked up from the floor to find Mr. Zraly watching me.  I was shaking I was so excited.  I had just gotten the job as an assistant cellar master at Windows on the World, and I had not yet met this man whom I had read so much about.

That same evening, for the first time, I was able to attend Kevin Zraly’s Windows on the World Wine School.  It was heavenly.  Listening to him speak about wine was an experience like no other, and I truly believed I had found the niche I had been searching for.  Everything I had read became true that night–not only was he an educator, but he was an entertainer as well.

The wine class continued for eight weeks.  Every Monday night, I would attend and listen to this passionate teacher share his knowledge of wine and its many mysteries.  I took notes, I tasted, I asked questions, I laughed  and I loved.  What a beautiful life I was having.

Kevin spoke of cool climate versus hot climate; wine textures relating to skim milk, whole milk and heavy cream; how to taste flavors in 60 seconds; the villages of Burgundy; and how Italians don’t drink white wine.  Everything that he said, I absorbed.

It wasn’t long before I got to help set up the wines for Kevin’s wine classes.  I felt like I finally had a purpose in life because I was doing something I truly loved.  For 10 months, I moved wine boxes and stripped labels and printed circle sheets, but it never really felt like work.  I knew if I kept at it, I would eventually get to work closer to Kevin.

After 16 months, I was promoted to Beverage Manager.  Kevin called me every week to check on me and make sure the job was bearable.  He was always there if I had questions about departmental issues, case discounts, vintage changes, etc.  He always gave me an honest answer, and he always made me feel like I had made the decision.  Kevin has so many special traits, and one of them is is needlessness for attention or recognition.  He always placed the spotlight on me, and made me feel special.

On September 11th, I called Kevin to tell him that our Windows sommelier, Stephen Ribustello, and I were o.k.  I also had to tell him that our two assistant cellar masters, Jeffrey Coale and Steve Adams, had been at work that morning.  It was the most difficult time of our lives.

A month later, Stephen and I went to Kevin’s house in New Paltz to talk about the future and share a bottle of Bordeaux from his cellar.  Seeing him that October morning was more than I could bear.  He was thin and pale and looked so shaken and depressed that all I could do was pray that he would recover from this horrible tragedy.  We talked about our Windows family and their loved ones and the constant heartache of seeing them in our minds knowing we would not ever see them again on earth.  The more we talked, the sadder Kevin became.  When we were leaving, Kevin told us he had set up interviews with the Robert Mondavi sales team for Stephen and me so that we would have a job during the holidays.  Only one month had passed and Kevin was already taking care of his two wine children.  Nothing has touched Stephen or me more than that act of kindness.

Kevin and I speak on the phone once  month to share any news or information about our Windows family.  In April of 2003, Kevin came to North Carolina to attend my wedding.  It was such a special celebration because of his relationships with both the bride and the groom.  You see, I married the Windows sommelier, Stephen Rbiustello.

I truly believe I am one of the most fortunate people on earth because of my friendship with Kevin Zraly.  Because of my love for grapes, he is an inspiration and a hero.  Not just anyone gets to work with the Michael Jordan of wine.  For whatever reason, I was able to work with him and I am a better wine professional and a better person because of it.  The Lord works in mysterious ways, and September 11th has taught me that more than anything else.  Knowing Kevin Zraly is one of life’s blessings, and I am thankful for that golden opportunity.  He has given back to the community in so many ways, and he will always be the man who made so many people fall in love with wine while they were falling in love with him.

Slammed Magazine, November 2003

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As this is a wine blog, and hopefully, people reading it won’t judge me too much for saying wine is a way of life, I have to share what’s going on in my current world to explain.

As a mother of a five-year-old girl who is quite the head-strong perfectionist I totally deserve, it has come to a point in her life where she (slash me) is trying to figure out what extracurricular activity might suit her best.  Now that I have finally realized if I suggest it, she will not even consider it, I have stopped trying to say how “cool” piano lessons are or what a great idea it is to take ballet.

Actually, I wasn’t quite sure what Cynthia might love to do until a couple of months ago when she stood in front of our church congregation and sang so vehemently, my mother-in-law whispered, “You didn’t tell me she had a solo.”  The reason I didn’t tell her was because she didn’t. She was just singing so loudly that you could not hear any of the other children.

Seeing this sight, this absolutely precious, adorable, loud sight of a child performing as if her life depended on it led me to talk to her about our community theater’s upcoming performance of Charlotte’s Web, the chosen play for the summer.

I decided Cynthia may really enjoy a real-life play with other children and performance-minded adults.  What Cynthia said in return has tormented me for weeks.

Her little hazel eyes looked up and me, and she said, “I would love to be in it if you’re in it, too.”

Why wine is absolutely necessary #1:  After saying yes to my conniving, I mean sweet-as-sugar daughter, I felt the overtaking urge to grab a glass of Vinho Verde from Portugal and sip the bubbles right out of it.

Our amazing director and incredibly talented commuity-theater revivalist allowed me to take the role of the cynical sheep (only after the child I used to baby-sit turned it down).

Why wine is absolutely necessary #2:  As if I have the slightest ability to memorize lines while I memorize the grams per liter of residual sugar in Vin de Paille, I realize way too late, I have taken on way too much.  Let the Gruner Veltliner flow because this time I need something a little more substantial to get my ewe on.

Practices begin.  Darling children everywhere.  Lots of opinions.  Funny props.  Long practices.

Why wine is absolutely necessary #3:  When you get home at 9:30 p.m. and have been at play practice since 6:00 p.m., you start realizing a lot of your wine drinking time is being compromised.  A total injustice, you need to splurge and possibly open a bottle that will allow you to stop thinking about what you are supposed to say after Wilbur’s line regarding if he’ll be turned into smoked ham.  Can you say Prosciutto?  Freudian slip:  Can you say Rioja?

Why wine is absolutely necessary #4:  You arrive at play practice and see a full-fledged, wool-sheep costume ready to wear by you and you only.  At 34 years old, I assure you, nothing makes me seem less attractive than this get-up accentuated by white tights and a headpiece.  Get out the Pinot Noir from Oregon that I have been saving for 6 months now.  It’s a half-bottle, but I’m so tired, that’s all it will take.

So, here we are, the night before the “friends and family” performance, and the play makes me question why children ask so many damn questions and have so many friggin’ opinions.  All right, it really makes me ask if children are even necessary.  The costume is hot, the entire cast is exhausted, and the only beverages in the cafeteria are ginger ale, sunkist and diet pepsi.  Putting that in writing makes me excited about the invention of a wine dispenser deemed legal only in areas where there is community theater featuring children.

Why wine is absolutely necessary #5:  At this point in my career, you rarely think or appreciate just how great any glass of wine can be.  However, on this particular evening, as I pull in the driveway at 10:15 p.m., I assure you wine has never tasted better in my life.  This Australian Riesling from the Clare Valley could be the best wine I have ever drunk.

Until tomorrow night, that is.

See, it took a role as a sheep in Charlotte’s Web to make me appreciate why wine is absolutely necessary in my life.

Long live Wilbur and God bless Charlotte, but I am more than happy to be the sacrificial lamb.

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How I love thee, let me count the ways.  You are perfect to drink when there is nothing to eat.   You are in your own, total glory when arugula, green curry, jalapenos or juicy steak is at hand.  Whatever is on the plate, you seem to know exactly what to wear, and as if US Magazine was there photographing, you steal the show with your style and your ability to make elegance out of ineptness.

From the rednecks to the newbies to the collectors to the doting sommelier, Riesling is friends, best friends, that is, to all.

From the great state of North Carolina to our mates in Australia, Riesling continues to wow wine drinkers as those who have already learned, nothing tastes better with food, or alone than this noble grape.

Of course, as your popularity gains, we must remember your birthplace, the country that loved you first.

Germany, the Mosel, to be precise.  And when we think of the Mosel, we think of purity.  We think of slate.  We think of spring rain, fresh pears, green apples and acidity that makes your motor run.  I get all juiced up just thinking about the Mosel, and as many wines as there are from this area that I absolutely love, I have to honor the man (and I mean, “the man”) who didn’t just go to New York City to serve his wines or San Francisco to trick his trade, but the man who left the spice route and went to Tarboro, North Carolina, a town misunderstood, yet completely in awe of what Riesling can do and how it can reform.

Just like the pagan who finds the Lord, Riesling makes believers out of those who say they don’t drink the juice and those who say red is the only wine to sip.  In one case, Dr. Richter found his followers, or should I say, the disciples found him, when a wine dinner occurred in a small, rural town in eastern North Carolina.  From his Sekt to his Kabinetts to his Eiswein, the menu took turns and even off-roaded a bit to show that any dish can be paired with this magnificent grape turned wine.

If you’re eating at Hearth, On the Square or Terroir, you already know about how great the Mosel is and what awesome acidity is achieved.  You may also know that Dr. Richter is an incredible intellectual who is super passionate about his wines and his winemaking.  Pick a dish, pick any dish.  Pair it with the Graacher Himmelreich or the Brauneberger Juffer Kabinett.  See the magic, feel the magic, taste the magic, and enjoy off-roading.

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Answer: Flavor compounds responsible for herbaceous flavors in wine, such as the bell pepper aroma in cabernet.

Just in case you thought my blog was getting too soft and emotional versus winey and intellectual, I thought I would surprise you a bit with big words that may stump the average person.

Methoxypyrazines, pronounced ‘me-thoxy-pie-razines’ are flavor compounds that give wine aromas of green herbs or bell peppers.  I often smell these compounds when opening a bottle of Chilean Cabernet Sauvignon or Cabernet Franc from the Loire Valley.  Of course, you don’t have to be drinking red to experience these flavors.  They are also found in our friend Sauvignon Blanc.  All of the herbaceous flavors, like fresh, green herbs and jalapenos you so often encounter in New Zealand or South African Sauvignon Blanc are results of methoxypyrazines. 

To me, it is incredibly fascinating that grapes, once made into wine, have the ability to smell like so many other flavors than just grape juice.  As the world becomes more and more advanced, I discover there are actual reasons, i.e. compounds, that make wine smell like millions of other things.  I find that wine is not just about magic, but more about science.  It is a fascinating discovery, one that I pray will have me discovering for the rest of my life.

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Hello all…I apologize for being so slack in my blogging.  It isn’t that I haven’t had anything to write about, it’s more that my May has been as busy as our last December.  A pretty busy May, or as one of our wonderful customers said to me today, “You’re busier than a one armed paper coat hanger!”  Whatever you call it, it has been a little hectic in my world. 

As much as I enjoy commotion and lots of activity, when it comes to my job, I like things thorough, efficient and well, dare I say, perfect. 

I’m not sure if it’s the unobtainable I am after or if I am a total masochist, but perfection in a restaurant (save one by Thomas Keller) is completely unrealistic. 

My dad always told me if everyone likes you, you’re doing something wrong, and I try to apply that advice when someone is telling me that the service was poor or that the website wasn’t updated on time.  You see, I want our place to be perfect and so when there is a complaint, I not only take it seriously, I sometimes let it hurt my feelings.

Regardless, I completely stress myself out trying to make sure our restaurant is run so that everyone is satisfied, and it is frustrating and disappointing when it doesn’t happen.  Of course, I alone, cannot make our place what it is.  That is why I value all of our friends/co-workers who come to work each day to make sure we succeed.  Running a restaurant helps me to appreciate key people who work here on a regular basis.

No one knows all of the staff at On the Square, but I think it’s pretty important to start telling some stories of people who make my job much easier as well as accommodate many of the people who come here to dine.  I have already spoken about Frances, my saint, but I think it would be nice to share some stories of others who do so much for On the Square, and in turn, for Stephen and me. 

In no particular order, I would like to invite you to get to know the people who work with us. 

May I introduce Alex Hernandez, born as Eliseo, but his name was changed to Alex upon arriving in the kitchen at the young age of 16.  Alex started as a grill cook in 2004, and even at 16, he was incredibly talented and efficient at cooking ribeyes, filets and pork tenderloin, not to mention, mahi, tuna, etc. 

Alex graduated from Tarboro  High School, and began his studies at East Carolina University where he stayed for about 3 semesters before realizing he liked working more than being lectured to.  He also realized that while cooking was fun, it wasn’t where he wanted to be for the rest of his life, and so he took the plunge, left us (for a brief while), and moved on to work the assembly line at Honeywell, a plant outside of Tarboro. 

I cannot remember how it happened, but one day, when he came back to say hello, I asked him about working the in the front as a runner.  He said it would be fine as long as he could continue to work days at his other job.  Of course, it was, and his new position in the front-of-the-house began. 

Within a couple of months, Alex became a server, after he easily proved how well-spoken, polite and well-versed he was on the menu.  After all, he had worked the grill for so long, he knew more about the food coming out of the kitchen than yours truly.

With the knowledge of Alex reading this blog, I will admit I was nervous about him waiting tables.  Would  he grasp the needs of our clientele?  Would he be able to anticipate what our guests wanted?  Would he be clear and definitive when he spoke to tables?  I knew Alex was trustworthy and hard-working, but a server is the liason between the kitchen and the guest, and there are many different skills one must have to properly serve.

As I write this tonight, I become so excited/proud at having Alex on my team.  He is sincere, extremely polite and always pleasant.  Customers adore him, and I am calmed by his ease and effort while working.  Not only does he take very good care of his tables, he also makes sure his co-workers’ tables are well-provided for.  He is a team player if there ever was one, and we are extremely fortunate to have him work at On the Square.

In his ever so calm, polite way, Alex will ask me what is Chianti or how do you say Dornfelder?  He will tell me why he thinks Gruner Veltliner is delicious with the Shellfish Stew.  Not only does he dominate when it comes to serving others, he also has a passion for knowing all of the details of his job, including wine and wine service.

Alex and I share dinner at night.  He has a son that is 6 months old that is named Baby Alex.  We look at pictures on his I-phone of my children playing with his son.  I pray that they can be as good of friends as their parents. 

I am so thankful that at 34 years old, I can continue to meet people who I hope will be my lifelong friends.  I am so thankful there are people like Alex who want to work with people like me.

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