Opascetic: The Hellenistic Country Solstice

The June 2008 Hellenistic Country Solstice Cordial was a smashing, barn-raising success! See also the official webpage and the photo gallery, with excellent pix by Jeff Forbes, Bob Martin, and Carole Zoom.


Some thirty intrepid revelers joined us about twenty minutes west of Portland along the Columbia, in a super-rustic, semi-enclosed barn. Word, apparently, has gotten out about The Cordial. People came all the way from Texas! OK, bit of spin there, but it was great to have Kevin Tuerff of Austin-based Enviromedia with us. In fact, Kevin later told me this Cordial was "the most fun I've had all year!" Then, after a pause, he said, "Well, after Bali." We can handle playing second fiddle to the entire island of Bali.

The Cordial theme this time was Greek (an appeal to the solstice sun). We started off with a retsina flight in the llama/alpaca meadow, along with what we called tapas a la griega, to distinguish it from the sit-down meze course that followed. (Tapas and meze both mean, basically, appetizers.)

Inside the barn, our Cordialistas were treated to a white-tablecloth, candlelight dinner of four more courses and a slew of phenomenal Greek wines. One of our goals was to put Greece on at least a few people's wine maps. By our guests' own acknowledgment, we succeeded. It's a good thing. There's nothing like a sharp, distinguished Assyrtiko or an earthy, aromatic, expressive Xynomavro.

Meanwhile Anna pulled off some serious magic in the Ping Pong kitchen — a few ornery electric burners on a ping-pong table — with thetireless culinary teamwork of Krissy Martin and Cyndy Chan. Also holding the floor down was my dedicated co-pourer Bob Martin. Props to all three of these folks for putting in multiple full days of help before and after.

For dessert, guest star Joanna Miller brought out her inspired homemade lemon olive oil ice cream with pepper-and-salt-seasoned corn tuiles. Joanna had appropriately sought out Cypriot sea salt, but the place for it had closed early. (Joanna told a quintessentially Portland tale of biking, carbon-free, to her local purveyor of artisanal Slow Foods.) She therefore looked eastward and found a Sicilian sea salt which did the trick beautifully. (The Greece-to-Sicily move, we Daidaloi are familiar with it.)

We set the dessert off very nicely with two distinct vintages of Samos Cooperative Muscat Grand Cru (2002/2005).

As the sun set on the longest day of the year, the sheet we had draped glowed ever stronger with a rear-projected montage of video from our own recon and provisioning missions, an over-the-top Greek tourist video, and Mihalis Kakogiannis's stunning 1962 film Electra.

For the weeks leading up to this Cordial, Anna and I listened Greek music. Lots and lots of Greek music. Our soundtrack for the evening — when it could be heard above the revelry — was an extensive playlist of Greek music ranging from '30s rembetiko to Vassilis Tsitsanis, from Smithsonian Folkways' Cretan folk recordings to the best of Glykeria, to Christos Zotos and Ionna Anghélou's Musique de la Grèce Continentale, a richly mysterious performance on the great Al Sur label (thanks to David A. for that!).

Thanks to everyone on the Cordial team — including our dedicated wine consultant-suppliers: Joseph Busch of Domaine Selections, Leif Sundstrom of Vin de Garde, and Dana Pickell of Triage Wines — (see the official site for acknowledgments) and on the guestlist. Also on the official site, see the complete menu, wine list, and other materials.

The Retsina Flight

When I picked up the wines at Domaine Selections, Greek owner Constantinos "Dino" Ariston gave me a "Καὶ σὺ τέκνον" look: "Why so much retsina?" As Joseph had observed to us the previous week, winewise Greece is where Spain was ten years ago, or Italy twenty years ago. Today the Greeks — and everyone who believes in their wines — have to be all-hands-on-deck to achieve a much-deserved upgrade to their wine image. With all the other phenomenal wines I had ordered, why undermine everything with a bunch of retsina?

A fortnight earlier Leif had ribbed me that the reason Vin de Garde — Portland's other distributor of Greek wines — has no retsina is that they carry only real wines.

I told Leif he was spoiling for fisticuffs, and I assured Dino my purpose was noble: "People want retsina. We'll start them out on their expectations, then blow them away with the good stuff!" True as a general principle. But as for wanting retsina, well, let's just say many were skeptical at best. Americans think of Pine-Sol® accompanying soggy calamari fritters in greasy blue-and-white diners about as truly Greek as lutefisk. So I was getting it from all sides.

Which was perfect. I do love a challenge. Pouring retsina at a sophisticated wine affair, with a sense of exploration and humor, but without irony, and inviting people to really taste, consider, and enjoy it for what it is (it's retsina!) — that's my kind of challenge.

Myself, I've never had a problem with retsina. It's a context thing, to be sure. Hot day, olives and dolmathes — what do you want, a big Meursault? Parakalo! I also connect it to my Finnish ancestors' love of all things pine. They use pine and especially pine pitch in soaps, candles, remedies, etc. It's refreshing and salubrious. It'll cure what ails you.

It's also storied. Couple millennia ago resin was a practical matter, a way to keep amphorae airtight for longer storage of wines. As these things happen, the Greeks developed a taste for the resin and continued adding it even after they had airtight barrels. Retsina conveys a taste of antiquity.

Our like-spirited man at Domaine Selections, Joseph Busch, brought us a sample of a new generation of retsina. The Gaia Estate Ritinitis Nobilis, he explained, is the result of scrupulous winemakers Yiannis Paraskevopoulos and Leon Karatsolas's determination to take the retsina problem — "the 800-lb gorilla of Greek wine" — head on. Their objective is to make the best wine they can with resin. The result is "a varietal from low yield Aigalia Roditis, stainless steel-fermented with a quiet dose of resin from the Pinus halepensis pine tree" (greekwinemakers.com).

That was all we needed. We kicked off the Hellenistic Country Solstice Cordial with a retsina flight out in a meadow, complete with llama and alpaca, next to the open-air barn that would serve as dining hall.


We started with the very mild, apparently most popular Malamatina in the 500-ml crown caps. A good retsina for the dubious. It's simple and friendly, like a piney cooler. We love the label. Is the key in the guy's stomach there to unlock his hangover, his malamatina? Unless it's a perverse reverse-psych campaign, it would seem to be selling itself as a hair of the dog.


Next up was the Patraiki from the Patra Union of Farming Cooperatives in Patras, in the Peloponesian prefecture of Achaia. Established in 1918, they strive for quality while producing a wide range of wines. Their strong, pine-bright retsina is the anti-Malamatina. Serve it with a firm pat on the back and a robust cheer. We love the old-school label.



Third we poured the good stuff, the aforementioned Gaia Estate Ritinitis Nobilis. First impression is that the Gaia is milder, less pine-forward than the Patraiki. We came to agree with David A., however, who observed that the pine is really no less present. It may be softer (think of the various characters of tannin) but the point is that the Gaia is a dimensional wine, with so much more going on that the resin just finds its balance rather than being the whole story. (Note to Gaia: best retsina, worst label. You need help there.)

Not going to get all rive-droite/rive-gauche on this. It's retsina. But out in the sun, with the skordaliá, the olives, and the herb-marinated feta — not to mention the cut straw, the solstice light, and the company of camelids — I'm here to tell you the retsina went quickly and enthusiastically. Some had never had it, and thought it was great. Everyone got into the spirit of the flight, earnestly comparing the three. We had a right good time. For retsina — hey, really, for wine in general — that is mission accomplished.

The "Real Wines"

See the official site for the full menu and wine list. Quick shout out, though, to the brilliant Gaia Estate Θαλασσίτης 2007 (Thalassitis Santorini), the focused, articulate Assyrtiko that paired so well with the meze. And to the stupendous Καρυδάς Νάουσα 2004 (Karydas Naoussa) that went with the secondo. This is a great, generous wine that's all about Greece.

Also of particular note was the Kir Yianni Akakies Rosé (thanks to Dana for recommending it!). This imposing, tannic Xynomavro was a great polarizer. (An "imposing" rosé is bound to be.) People loved it or hated it. I loved it, and loved that it inspired such passions.

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