Blushaholics anonymous

12 steps to breaking the white zin habit

Uncorked by Thor Iverson

It's one of the most common complaints from wine lovers: you love wine, but your husband/wife/significant other refuses to drink anything but white zinfandel -- and the occasional glass of cheap chardonnay. You've tried serving the greatest wines you own, but he/she thinks they're all too bitter.

If this is you -- or if you're the one who wonders why you don't like all these "great" wines that people are raving about -- this column is here to help. White zin is sweet and approachable (much like soda or Kool-Aid), but great wines are complex in a way no sugary blush wine can ever be. They enhance and complement food; they simultaneously enchant and elude the palate; and they come in a never-ending diversity of styles and tastes. But, like most anything else you put in your mouth, wine is an acquired taste. The only way to acquire it is to approach it slowly, step by step, and with respect for what's good about white zin.

We all like sweetness as children, and this can be the hardest habit to break when developing a taste for wine. So rather than diving into the heavy tannins of cabernet sauvignon, make a sideways move to mildly sweet wines that are still "serious." Look for semisweet Vouvray from France (ask your retailer for help) or good chenin blanc from California. The Dry Creek Chenin Blanc ($8.95) is an outstanding example of the variety, with gentle fruit and good acidity. Next, try some of the rieslings of Germany (or, if you're feeling adventurous, from Washington and Canada). The key to German wine is the delicate balance between fruit, sugar, and acidity -- a balance lacking in most blush wines, which are often little more than sugar. Look for a label that has the word Kabinett on it -- the Joh. Jos. Prum Riesling Kabinett Mosel Urzinger Würzgarten ($13.99) is a fine example -- or try the Chateau Ste. Michelle Johannisberg Riesling ($8.99) from Washington.

From there, move on to dry wines that suggest sweetness by the friendly nature of their fruit. Alsatian pinot blanc and tokay-pinot gris are good choices (look for bottlings from Charles Schleret that run between $15 and $18). Or, for more adventurous palates -- or for those who think most white wine is a little bland -- try a gewürztraminer from Alsace (Schleret, Trimbach, or Zind-Humbrecht are good choices, from $15), Italy, or Washington (Chateau Ste. Michelle makes a decent version for around $10). With some gewürztraminers, you'll get a hint of residual sweetness back.

Red wines are where most white zin drinkers pucker up in distaste. If you've been following this column for a while, you know that this is due to the dry and bitter qualities of the tannin in many reds. So what you need to do is find a red wine that doesn't have much tannin, but does have a fruitiness that can sort of stand in for white zin's sweetness.

A good first step is Beaujolais. Every November, much is made of Beaujolais Nouveau, a grapey concoction that straddles the line between wine and fruit juice. This leads some wine snobs to dismiss it out of hand, but they shouldn't; it's an extremely tasty quaff. Nouveau falls apart a few months after release, though, so this time of year you should look instead to the Beaujolais crus: Moulin-à-Vent, Fleurie, Morgon, Brouilly, Juliénas, Chénas, Chiroubles, St-Amour, and Régnié. These sub-appellations represent the serious side of Beaujolais, and a few of them can even age. Look for examples from Louis Jadot or Georges Duboeuf, none of which should cost more than $20.

A second alternative is to try one of Italy's lighter wines, especially barbera (which usually comes in the form of Barbera d'Alba or Barbera d'Asti, two regions growing the same grape). This is a delicious, fruity Piedmontese product with good acidity (it's the perfect pizza wine) and occasionally just a hint of tannin to provide a little structure. Look for one of the wine world's great bargains, the Prunotto Barbera d'Asti Fiulot, which should be about $10 and seems to explode with bright red fruit.

From there, move on to American pinot noir made in a lighter, fresher style (look for the under-$10 Napa Ridge or the $15 King Estate from Oregon). Continue in the lighter, approachable vein with Spanish Rioja (Marques de Murrieta's Reserva is a good value at $15, as are the Bodegas Muerza and the Marques de Grinon at $10), which introduces a bit of spiciness to the friendly fruitiness.

If the blushaholic remains recalcitrant, perhaps the most obvious solution is the one closest to the starting point: red zinfandel. This is the only wine that the United States can legitimately claim to make better than anyone else, anywhere. But be careful when choosing your zin; stay away from the massive, tannic, alcoholic, and late-harvested examples from such stellar producers as Ridge and Turley and concentrate on more-accessible examples from Rabbit Ridge (their Barrel Cuvee is only $9.95, while richer and more complex examples like their Dry Creek Valley Olsen Vineyard can run from $15 up to about $30), Storrs Winery (especially the Ben Lomond Ranch, about $20), or Ravenswood (the Vintner's Blend, $11.99, or the Napa Valley, $14.99).

Any of these options is better than beating the unwitting into submission with a heavy, tannic Bordeaux, Barbaresco, or California cabernet. Best of all, they're delicious, well-made wines that beginners and wine nuts alike can enjoy.

Thor Iverson can be reached at wine[a]phx.com.

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