Wine for the First Day of Summer
This article is from the archive of The New York Sun before the launch of its new website in 2022. The Sun has neither altered nor updated such articles but will seek to correct any errors, mis-categorizations or other problems introduced during transfer.

However much I may love wine, I once knew a man who loved music more. He was a composer named Ingolf Dahl, who taught at the University of Southern California until his premature death in 1970. Each summer, he headed off to the Swiss Alps for two months and swore off listening to music. Back then, I questioned why he would deprive himself of what nourished his spirit most. But now I’ve come to understand — and sometimes I even do — as Professor Dahl did: I take an annual summer vacation from the beverage that absorbs so much of my interest the rest of the year. The traditional starting date for going cold turkey is tomorrow, the longest day of the year. When I finally do return to wine after Labor Day, I know that my palate will be refreshed, my curiosity about new wines quickened.
The difference between Professor Dahl and me is that my personal prohibition on summer wine sipping is not absolute. I’m still committed to doing homework for this column, and that will require pulling corks and — with increasing frequency — twisting off screw caps. But I’ll do my best to let purely recreational drinking go by the wayside.
Even so, my father used to talk about “the exception that ennobles the rule.” When friends come over for supper, for example, what kind of host would I be were I to deprive them of wine? And, of course, I wouldn’t want to set a bad example by refusing to lift a glass myself. With those caveats in mind, here is a trio of wines — red, rosé, and sparkling — that will be the noble exception at my summer table. In keeping with the season between the longest day and Labor Day, these wines are ideally suited to pleasure rather than pondering.
Talus Lodi Zinfandel 2004 ($7.47 at Pop’s, popswine.com) — Compared to more hallowed California wine regions, Lodi gets scant respect as wine turf. But this hot Central Valley location, across the mountains eastward of Napa and Sonoma, is home to ripe, rounded, spicy zinfandels that can take on all comers, and do it at gentle prices. This zinfandel, made by fourth generation Lodite Todd Ziemann, initially had me perplexed. How can a wine this good cost so little? Its layers of mixed red berry fruit resonate long and sweetly. There’s a brightness to the back taste of this wine that kept my attention. Everyone needs a generous summer wine to accompany the outdoor barbecue. This one will be mine.
Wild Rock “Vin Gris” Rosé 2006 ($14.99 at Zachys, zachys.com) — A standby of European outdoor cafés, rosé wines were long considered about as stylish as pink bubble-gum on this side of the pond. Suddenly, rosés are everywhere. They can be on the thin side, however. That’s often the result of having been made from juice that has been “bled off” the grape skins before it can pick up much flavor. This New Zealand rosé is vinified like a red wine from pinot noir grapes, which spend just enough time on their skins to develop generous flavor contours along with a light magenta color — a type of rosé that the French confusingly call vin gris, or gray wine. Wild Rock comes from a new wine company overseen by Steve Smith, a great Kiwi viticulturist. His wines are always a cut above.
Lambrusco, Corrigia Brut, Metodo Classico, 2003, Cantina Lini ($56 on the wine list at Centovini, 25 W. Houston St., or $29 from the restaurant’s in-house wine shop) — The sparkling wines of Reggio Emilia, called lambrusco after the grape from which they’re made, are more like pulp fiction than poetry in the bottle: no deep thinking required. Most lambruscos have no purpose other than to be a refreshing counterpoint to the rich foods of region: Parmesan Reggiano, prosciutto, culatello, and salamis in myriad shapes and spicings. Many lambrusco wines are made by industrial rather than artisanal methods and those that reach this country, such as Reunite, are usually on the sweet side. They drink more like frothy soft drinks than wine. Now comes a lambrusco that is a step up. It’s made by the classic Champagne method, requiring a second fermentation in the bottle, and it’s not perceptively sweet.
“Ninety-nine percent of lambrusco production is commercial fizz that goes to supermarkets,” the marketing director of the Cantina Lini family firm, Alicia Lini, said during a recent visit to Manhattan. “Those bottlings can be made in as little as a week. It can seem provocative, maybe even crazy, to spend years making one by the classico method. We do it for people who want to drink real wine instead of the equivalent of Coke.”
Want to find out how fulfilling dry lambrusco partners the dishes of its own region? Centovini is proposing a match up of a spuntino Reggiano, a classic Reggiano “snack” of grilled mortadella wedges and torta di verdura (Swiss chard pie), with Lini’s Corrigia Brut 2003. The wine’s brisk acidity and moderate alcohol (about 12%) are the dancing feet that bring out the best in these rich, flavor-laden foods.