Many thanks to Brigade member Sean R. who has been busy spreading the gospel  of Bruliam across Europe.  Here he is pictured with his viola teacher and member of the Ysaye Quartet, Miguel da Silva, holding the bottle.  Miguel is a French wine afficionado, but was apparently quite pleased with our wine.

As a reminder to our other Brigade members, we’re actively soliciting bottle pictures – please send in pictures of yourselves enjoying our wine for entry into our monthly charity contest.

To be fair, upstate New York is spectacularly beautiful, four days a year when the weather doesn’t suck.  My recollections of biking around Lake Cayuga and wine touring around Seneca are all dappled sunlight, thick verdant canopies of leaves and uncrowded, winding roads – all great stuff.  I know the wine industry has matured significantly since I first wine toured as a med student, back in (gasp) 1996 or 1998.  A wedding I attended at Red Newt winery in 2004 was impossibly beautiful.  I just can’t fathom the soccer card system handling unruly drunks in tasting rooms.  The obvious corollary is neither can I imagine nerdy med students ever being rowdy enough to merit such disciplinary action.  Then there is the sticky slope of assigning the escalating tiers of drunken indiscretion the appropriately color-coated card.  What exactly distinguishes red card reckless stupidity from a yellow card merlot-miscue?

Let’s consider some complex cases culled from my own family experiences.  Watching my children (among others) demolish the colorful ornamental foliage decorating the perimeter of Mauritson Winery in Dry Creek Valley – yellow card.  OK, that one was easy.  Breaking stemware?  Red card.  What if I joined the wine club to redeem myself, even if their wine was overrated?  Am I demoted back to yellow?  What about spewed crackers?  Allowing kids to visit a winery at all?  Gotcha!

Many years ago, when our son was quite small, Brian and I toted him along to our deluxe-plus tasting reservation at Duckhorn.  This being a well reputed and hoity-toity kind of establishment, Duckhorn kindly provided an endless supply of dry, mouth-coating, thick & chewy wine crackers.  I am talking about the ones that turn saliva into paper mache.  I, in turn, fed them to the squirmy, restless toddler perched on my lap.  A few rounds of merlot into our vertical, Bruno lurched forward.  He started to gag and a long, yo-yo of glue-colored drool descended from the corner of his mouth.  The kid needed water, and all we had was hundred buck merlot.  Like a superhero, I spun around and grabbed the sippy cup of yesterday’s tepid water that I had stashed in my diaper bag for just such emergencies.  Then, before I could melt the Plaster of Cracker, Bruno hurled.  Thick, moist chunks of half-digested cracker cascaded across our table with a discharge radius 3 tables deep.  Red card.  We bought a case of wine.  We joined the wine club.  No reprieve.  Red card stays.

Now again let’s examine last summer, when I ran the Napa to Sonoma Half Marathon.  (I cannot believe I am about to reveal this to the internet community at large).  The event was over-sold, and like most running events, the Port-A-Potty line snaked in endless circles.  Pre-race, my nerves are always raw, and I feel like the sorry ladies in the overactive-bladder commercials that run during Desperate Housewives.  With minutes until the gun sounded, I took a cue from the gal in front of me.  During the Star Spangled Banner, I dashed behind her into the vineyard rows behind the crowd.  I dropped trou and relieved myself among the budding vines of Domaine Carneros.  I’d imagine drunken urination on trespassed property is a red card gimme.  But what about pardons for pre-race conditions?

My limited understanding of soccer is that one red card equal automatic expulsion.  I have already accumulated multiple red cards in both Sonoma and Napa counties.  I face ejection from my both my own and adjoining cities.  I’m reminded of Marge Simpson lamenting to Homer, “Oh Homer, we’re the worst family in the neighborhood.”  He brightly replies, “Maybe we should move to a larger community, dear.”

In his column, Joel tied together a couple of themes that make him question the value of business blogging.  First, he believes that most current business bloggers are simply doing it wrong.  He contends that for a blog to have any sort of traction, it can’t be about the blogger (or his/her company) directly.  If you run a chocolate company, he cites as an example, don’t blog about your most recent bean-hunting trip.  Instead, post on how to make the most perfect chocolate dipped strawberries.  That information has greater traction and longer lasting appeal.  It reaches a wider audience which will ultimately draw more readers to your site (and, hopefully, customers to your company).

Secondly, he rightly points out that some of the most successful companies of the past decade, like Google, Facebook, or Twitter, have either no blog or a very half-hearted one.  I’m not a fan of trying to draw general business conclusions from outliers like those three companies, but there is certainly some merit to Joel’s point.  As he says, “Apple’s employees produce virtually no blogs, even though the company has introduced several game-changing new products in the past decade.  Meanwhile, hundreds of Microsoft’s employees have amazing blogs, but these have done nothing to stave off that company’s slide into stodginess.”

Finally, he makes a compelling argument that as an enterprise grows the returns from employing blogging as the primary marketing vehicle diminishes.  Blogging may make a lot of sense when first starting out – it’s cheap, direct, and effective.  The only real “cost” is the time of the blogger, usually the company’s founder or senior executive officer.  The problem is that the time spent to populate a compelling blog is significant – thinking about a post, actually writing, editing.  It all adds up.  As a business grows and matures, additional sales channels and marketing venues evolve.  From this vantage, Joel questions the effective value and relative compensation from a CEO spending a disproportionate amount of time blogging and penning a monthly magazine column.  His decision is that no, after 10-years, it doesn’t make sense anymore.  He concludes that he spends way too much time devoted to a miniscule fraction of his total market audience, and to further grow his company, he must redirect his focus to the majority.  For those of us who enjoy reading his column this is a sad realization, but as a business owner it’s a decision that I certainly understand.

So, what does this all have to do with us at Bruliam?  When we first launched our blog two years ago, we intended to use it to hype our product and build brand recognition in advance of having any wine to sell.   We assumed that as soon as we had actual product to promote, we’d cut back or stop entirely.  Our plan succeeded in that we’ve been able to attract wine buyers from all over the country who happened upon us via the Bruliam blog.  But interestingly, most of the people who found us online did so through non-wine searches – for example Kerith’s recipe videos, our interviews with chefs/sommeliers, and yes, even from the famous calorie intake vs. calorie burn challenge.  Once we hooked those internet surfers with one of our posts, many then become avid followers and, ultimately, wine buyers.  Proving Joel’s second point, we’ve garnered the most success from this blog when talking about stuff other than wine.   And along the way, Kerith and I found that we very much enjoy the process of writing and hearing feedback from our readers and we decided to continue this blog past its originally planned end point.

That said, writing for this site expends a lot of time and energy.  There are days when the well is dry and producing a meaningful post is difficult.  Compounding the problem is that the wine making process is cyclical – harvest, crush, ferment, barrel, taste, blend, bottle, sell.  Repeat.  Repeat.  Repeat.  We know that as we enter our third trip through this cycle, there are only so many ways to make the chemistry of fermentation interesting and only so many times you want to see us glaring into the camera sorting grapes or tasting barrel samples.

So, what to do?  Well, we’re not quitting.   Instead we are recommitting to make this blog about more than just our wine.  More recipes, more self-deprecating parental disasters, maybe even more musings on the meaning of life (and, yes, even a calorie intake rematch – scheduled for the morning of July 18^th at Bouchon in Yountville if anyone is up to the challenge with me).  Don’t worry; we’re not going to keep you in the dark about our progress with Bruliam Wines.  We’re just going to make sure we have a good mix of content. 

And with any luck when we hit our 10-year mark, we’ll be established enough to be like Joel and exercise the option to retire from the blogosphere.  Until then, the MS Word spell check and thesaurus will remain our trusted and valued companions on this journey.

By one estimation, there are 500 English-language wine blogs, with 200 more in Europe.  That’s a lot of background static.  And how could all of those folks be appropriately credentialed to sell you their opinion of wine?  I am not convinced they are.  One lecture topic from the Napa Valley 2010 Symposium for Professional Wine Writers was entitled “What Wine Writers Need to Know about Winemaking.”  Let’s hope they know something about enology before they headline “professional wine writer” atop their C.V.  Better yet, how can a wine blogger convince you to buy the wine they snagged as freebie, industry swag last week?  And to what end?  The San Francisco Chronicle notes, “For the most part, a blog mention doesn’t register on any radar.”  One winery owner explained that a blog mention “almost never” parlays into actual sales.  Millions (OK, thousands) of people read either Wine Spectator or Robert Parker’s Wine Advocate, but very few read more than one or perhaps two wine blogs with any regularity, ours included.  Heck, we’re not even good enough to underwrite the booze at our kids’ preschool fundraiser.  Their inclusion criteria demands 90 points or better from only Spectator or Parker.  Add to this cesspool the growing leverage of social network sites like Twitter and Facebook, and wine blogging is already a hulking, obsolete dinosaur.  Not only am I an ineffectual lackey blowing smoke up my own ass but I’m already a washed up has been.  And even if I wanted to Tweet a post, I’d have the strenuously difficult and arduously, grueling and laborious task of trying to condense my often long winded, wordy, and dense literary voice into a butchered, condensed and profoundly curtailed, 140 word-limited, verbal skeleton of the incredibly important and useful things I feel compelled to say.

Few wine blogs command meaningful traction in the marketplace.    Alder Yarrow’s blog, Vinography appears to be the singular exception.  Noting the uptick in sales after a blog mention on Vinography, one small winery owner compared the sales effect of Yarrow’s online review to “a 93 from Wine Spectator.”  That is high praise considering most blog mentions don’t convert to tangible wine sales of any sort.  Much of Yarrow’s influence is attributed to the detailed behind-the-scenes information he provides about the wines he reviews- stuff examining the personal histories of the winemakers or vineyard owners, information that breathes vitality into drab commentary about gravely soil or oak barrel regimes.  His website reviews wine “through its emphasis on the stories, the people, and the passion behind wine, all told from a decidedly down-to-earth perspective” (lifted from vinography.com).  This website also happens to be quite glossy and very professional, the side galleys decorated with all sorts of food, bev, and cooking product placements.  Writing about the colorful anecdotes behind the wines is a strategy familiar to most readers of this blog- only we lack endorsements of any sort.

Perhaps much of Hosemaster’s ire stems from the tsunami of misguided, convoluted, and incomprehensible wine reviews littering the wine blogosphere.  It’s a little like the commercial with a random guy in scrubs, scalpel in hand, about to operate on someone’s brain.  The nurse says, “Are you Dr. Smith?”  Random guy replies, “No, but I stayed in a Holiday Inn Express last night.”  In defense of the Bruliam blog, and in full disclosure, I am sure readers already know I am a phony.  Rather than shill any old juice, we only try to sell you our wine.  Look deeply into your screen.  Your eyes will grow heavy and weary.  Repeat after me, “I only drink Bruliam wines…I only drink Bruliam wines.” While I am not comfortable providing you with tasting notes from every bottle I consume, I am confident that I can relay the basic mechanics of wine production in a literate and entertaining way.  Only now my anxiety hinges on crafting the condensed Cliff Notes to my blog.  Of the 864,000 online wine discussions tracked last October, ¾ transpired via Twitter and other social networking sites.  I am now seeking 762,208,972 friends so I can compete with Kim Kardashian’s $10,000 per Tweet payout.

So how would the 2009 first taste measure up?  Well, we knew the pressure would be on to try to live up to the hype surrounding the ‘08.  Check out the video below to see how it’s coming along.  If you can’t see the video, please click here.

In another very closely contested Brigade poll, Laurie in the cockpit edged out Paula on the Inca Trail by a final tally of 105-84.

Since both of these entries were clearly big hits, we’ve decided to award them both a prize.

The first prize is $250 donated to the charity of Laurie’s choice.  Second prize is $150 donated to the charity of Paula’s choice.

Thanks to both of these fierce competitors and everyone who voted along. 

Our winner Laurie – her $250 prize is going to Photocharity which benefits homeless youth in San Diego county:

Our runner-up Paula – her $150 prize is going to the Health Care Foundation of the Torrance Memorial Medical Center.

Great job ladies!  And if you can’t see the pictures, please click here.

First up, we taste our Sonoma Coast pinot noir from the Split Rock vineyard.  The wine exhibited some great fruit and earthiness.  One might even say it was a little funky.

If you can’t see the video, please click here.

Less than 5 years ago, I knew of only one San Diego restaurant serving up crispy, warm sweetbreads – Piattis in La Jolla.  A chain restaurant that once operated a branch in Yountville, it was the only game in town known to me.  We all know San Diego is known for great, temperate weather and a laid-back surfer mentality but it’s far from a food lovers lair of rapture.  But fortunately, change is in the air and in the kitchen.  Within the last 6 months, I have relished perfectly cooked sweetbreads in three different preparations at three different places.  I’ve been raving about Whisknladle’s crispy sweetbreads with brussel spouts and salty pancetta for the longest but have tasted equally satisfying bites at both Addison and Cucina Urbana.  At Addison, Chef Bradley does a crispy coated, deep fried number alongside lemony risotto.  Most recently, I was absolutely delighted to nosh on sweetbreads atop sautéed spinach at Cucina Urbana.  All three plates are terrific choices for the uninitiated sweetbread novice.  As scary as “organ meat” sounds, when well prepared, sweetbreads are easy to eat- crispy on the outside with a rich, savory, melt-in-your-mouth revelation within.  In fact, preparing sweetbreads at home is one of my loose 2010 kitchen resolutions, along with dishing up some homemade rabbit stew.  But somehow rabbit seems easier – just dredge in flour, brown and braise.  Sweetbreads are less approachable to the novice home chef.  Or so I explained to our patient and awfully indulgent Cucina Urbana waiter.  Not 10 minutes later, he returned to our table with “really simple” instructions from Chef Joe in the back.  “Chef said you can’t go wrong with this at home,” he repeated, hoping to butress my confidence.  Basically I got a pared down skeleton recipe highlighting the most important technical details of organ meat preparation.  Chef instructed me to 1) blanch in aromatics 2) peel off the membrane 3) slice into disks 4) refridgerate and weight them down to flatten ‘em out and finally 5) dredge in flour and pan sear.  Unfortunately, I am a cook and not a Chef.  I require on more detail, like exactly how thin do I slice?  How long in the fridge?  How long do I sear them?  What kind of aromatics?  If Chef says, “3 minutes and 12 seconds,” I set a stopwatch to 3 significant figures.  More information was required.

Sweetbreads are really the thymus gland, a neck organ that involutes (ie shrinks) with age in both animals and people.  In humans, the thymus is responsible for generating the T cells of our immune system and involutes after adolescence.  Older livery lacks significant thymic tissue as well, so sweetbreads come from young veal and sheep.  Veal sweetbreads are more popular in the U.S. and should be plump and firm when purchased from the butcher.  According to the table in Harold McGee’s seminal text (On Food & Cooking), sweetbreads contain two to three times the cholesterol of normal cuts of meats.  He attributes this to the smaller size of thymic cells relative to the larger skeletal muscle cells.  Thus thymic cells posses proportionately more cell membrane per unit weight, with cell membranes being comprised of fatty sterols and acids.  I guess that explains the rich, tender texture.  Sweetbreads are 12-33% protein and 3-23% fat, with 220-500 mg of cholesterol.  Good stuff.  McGee also points out that blanching (submerging in a slowly simmering liquid) washes proteins and microbes off the meat and coagulates them so they can be skimmed off.  He helpfully notes, “Blanching also moderates strong odors.”  In our house, I am guessing that sweetbreads will rank well below the perennial preschool favorites like unseasoned mac and cheese and bland, tasteless chicken nuggets. 

I consulted both The New Professional Chef, CIA, 6^th ed. and On Cooking, Techniques from Expert Chefs, 2^nd ed. for more detailed mise en place.  I now know that prior to cooking, sweetbreads first must be soaked overnight in cold water to remove all traces of blood.  I am hoping Chef Joe presumed I already knew that one.  That critical step kind of got lost in the game of telephone connecting his busy, restaurant kitchen to my four top table.  Next you must blanch the organ in court bouillon for 20 minutes (Ah-ha! Aromatics defined!) before removing the membrane by hand.  The CIA text provides great color photographs detailing the pressing technique.  Adjacent photos demonstrate how to bisect a kidney and deglove cow tongue of its tough, outer membrane.  This was starting to look awfully familiar to me- like autopsy pathology, except the last time I bisected a kidney it was to identify infection or tumors.  The whole sweetbreads-yourself experiment was starting to look more ick and less sweet.  But February is a good a time as ever to whack out those pesky New Year’s Resolutions, so I intend to bravely forge ahead.  We all know Julie & Julia has already been done so I will spare you my whining about how I’m pining for a book deal, too.  Instead I promise you Bruliam video footage when I prepare sweetbreads at home in the upcoming weeks.  After all, it’s a great pair with pinot noir.

We can’t believe we’re actually typing this, but we’re thrilled to announce that we got our first review back and our Doctor’s Vineyard 2008 Pinot Noir scored a 91 from Wine Enthusiast!

Remember all of those posts we did denigrating the magazine scoring system?  Well, we clearly didn’t know what the heck we were talking about.  In fact, we were just downright stupid.  Magazine ratings rule!

A score of 91 puts us firmly in the “Excellent” category: 

90-94 — Excellent. Extremely well made and highly recommended.

The score and their full tasting review are going to be published online and in print in the May issue.

We only have a little bit of this wine left so if you haven’t ordered, or if you want to order more, do it now – you can click here to order.

Once the magazine hits, all bets are off!