It was the Old World vs. the New World...

The Goddess of Wine led a group of curious wine enthusiasts through a comparison of Old World wines and New World wines at the Fossil Wine Bar in the picturesque town of Atascadero last night.

Old World wine refers primarily to wine made in Europe but can also include other regions of the Mediterranean basin with long histories of winemaking such as North Africa and the Near East. The phrase is often used in contrast to New World wine which refers primarily to wines from New World wine regions such as the United States, Australia, South America and South Africa. 

The terminology is used to describe general differences in viticulture and winemaking philosophies between the Old World regions where tradition and the role of terroir lead versus the New World where science and the role of the winemaker are more often emphasized. 

In recent times, the globalization of wine and advent of flying winemakers have lessened the distinction between the two terms with winemakers in one region being able to produce wines that can display the traits of the other region—i.e. an "Old World style" wine being produced in a New World wine region like California or Chile, and vice versa.

Do Old World wines taste different than New World wines? Yes, they often do. The differences in Old World and New World wines come from winemaking practices (tradition) and from the effect of the land and climate on the grapes (the “terroir”).

• Old World wines are often described as tasting lighter, having less alcohol, having higher acidity, and tasting less fruity
• New World wines are often described as tasting riper, having higher alcohol, having less acidity, and tasting fruitier

Wining through the holidays – Hanukkah…

Hanukkah, oh Hanukkah, come light the menorah.

Let's have a party, we'll all dance the horah.

Gather 'round the table, we'll give you a treat.

Dreidels to play with and latkes to eat.

And while we are playing, the candles are burning low.

One for each night, they shed a sweet light, to remind us of days long ago.

One for each night, they shed a sweet light, to remind us of days long ago.

-      Traditional lyrics

When I was growing up, celebrating Hanukkah, the Festival of the Lights, was fairly traditional. The family gathered for dinner – beef brisket accompanied by white potatoes and carrots, green beans, sesame seed rolls, lukshen (noodle) kugel, and, of course, latkes – potato pancakes – grated, oniony, fried pieces of heavenly goodness with a dollop of sour cream. It was a feast to celebrate the miracle of the oil; the small amount of lamp oil that lasted for eight nights after the Maccabees defeated the Seleucid Greeks. It wasn’t fancy or gourmet; it was comfort food.

Before dinner, the adults would sip cocktails and nosh on chopped chicken or beef liver and crackers. At the dinner table, we mostly drank water or soda, because my folks weren’t big drinkers, and they weren’t wine drinkers. If wine was needed for a barucha (blessing), there was Manischewitz Concord Grape. Insert shudder here.