The Gift of History

Though many Latin American countries are encumbered with political and economic strife, most are blessed with two things: excellent climate and lots of history. There is nothing better than resting a weary soul in some of the Spanish townships of Argentina and Chile or enjoying a good-hearted fiesta in Brazil. But there is one poor neglected country amidst those more-blessed often overlooked.

But Uruguay was once one of the richest countries in Latin America with a rich culture, thriving economy, and vibrant lifestyle. From that period – over a century ago – also came a distinct wine culture. And though those festive nights and busy ports are long past, the wine of that time lives today.

The Uruguayans are quite proud of their own special blend of grape, the Tannat, which thrives on the low, rolling, cattle lands of the northern pampas. And they have good reason. There are few wines which rival the Spanish Rioja or the Argentina Malbec with a savory steak, but that is exactly what the intent behind the Tannat. Its rich, slightly smoky flavor perfectly compliments the Uruguayan cuisine of red meat, grilled vegetables and starch. But the Tannat's hint of sweetness and full, fruity aroma make it an enjoyable wine on almost any occasion.

If you happen to find yourself in Montevideo or any of the Southern Cone of Latin America, make sure to take advantage of this delicate, unique, and savory wine and try to find a glass in the local bodegas.

The Magic of Wine

There is a light red liquid filling a crystal wine glass two-thirds of the way. Being inquisitive, you want to check if this substance is potable. First, you sniff: faint aromatic sweetness is the only scent greeting your nostrils. Second, you let the liquid wash lightly against your lips: fresh berry bitterness and acidity flies across the palate. After some moments of contemplation, no negative affects take hold of the senses. Third, you imbibe a quick splash of the liquid. Somehow the magic liquid is both sweet and dry, both warming and cold, both sugary and tart.

What on earth could this be and who created something so mysterious? Is it a white wine posing in a red wine's body? Or is it something wholly different?

In Alaska, wholly different is the norm. With winters that make growing grapes not only improbable, but physically impossible, one would think the Alaskans would stick to the beer brewing for which they are known. But if you think Alaskans would give up so easily on the concept of wine, you don't know Alaskans!

There is always one, or in this case two, people or couples that try to defy reality, who try to buck the system. Those people usually move to some little town in Alaska. And in Kodiak, Alaska, those people make wine out of any Alaskan berry or moisture-holding stem that they can find – rhubarb, raspberry, currant, cranberry, blueberry, strawberry – all of these are likely subjects to be turned into wine.

But there is even another berry that grows in Alaska unsafe from wild, wine-making enthusiasts. This berry hides close to the ground in fledgling little tufts, pushing their defenseless little orange and pink fruit toward the sunlight. Moose and bears generally enjoy the salmonberry, but, as the residents of Kodiak know, humans can also tame the little berry into a delicious jam, syrup, or even wine.

The salmonberry wine of Kodiak, Alaska is a particularly delicate, intricate wine for a berry wine. While looking like a light red wine, or possibly a dark rosé, it tastes more like a tart, sweet white similar in aftertaste to a sauvignon blanc. And like a not-too-dry white wine, it goes well with both seafood and lighter deserts. While traveling in Alaska, try a glass of salmonberry wine with your Alaska King Crab with cornbread smeared with Alaska wildflower honeycomb for desert.