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Once upon a time, in a land far, far away (well…France), there lived a man named George DuBoeuf. Actually, there lives a man. At 77, he’s still very much alive – in a region of the land they call Beaujolais. In fact, in that faraway land, in that particular region, George DuBoeuf is king: he is le roi du Beaujolais (the king of Beaujolais).

DuBoeuf built his empire on a wine called Beaujolais Nouveau. If you’ve seen the balloons and fliers and felt the anticipation like the coming of a grand parade, than perhaps you already know that Beaujolais Nouveau is released – to varying levels of press and fanfare – every year on the third Thursday of November. The wine is made from the very first harvest of the region’s non-cru Gamay grapes, and has usually been in bottle for less than two months before landing in festival-colored bottles, all around the world.

Beaujolais has been drinking Nouveau for ages, as a way to celebrate the end of the harvest. Up until the 1930s, Beaujolais Nouveau was a local drink to toast a local job well done. It was brilliant marketers (King DuBoeuf being one of the most brilliant), who realized the potential to take this small-time juice into the Big Leagues. Soon there were international competitions/races for who would get the first bottle. Shipments came by plane, train and hot air balloon. The marketing created a frenzy.

And, like most frenzies, as soon as people calmed down a little, the bloom fell off the rose.

For all of the rejoicing, Beaujolais Nouveau often gets a pretty bad rap. Critics pan the strong banana notes in the wine (mostly due to a particular strand of yeast used for fermentation). While the wine has a little tannin, it’s often pretty thin and tropical and no match for the lively and beautiful Beaujolais that sees a little more aging.

But…

Despite the emphasis on new and young and immediate with Beaujolais Nouveau, the wine can actually last a year or two in bottle. As it gets older, the fruit falls out – which was exactly what I was hoping for. By the time I opened my bottle in February, there was very little evidence of banana. The fruit that remained was rich cranberry, with touches of cherry and strawberry.

Beaujolais Nouveau promises fun, and my “aged” Nouveau was exactly that. Light and easy to drink, and a bargain Beaujolais, to boot! A fantastic afternoon wine; something to get the party started.

I’ll probably pick up a bottle or two next year, and hang onto it awhile. Instead of racing to meet next November’s hot air balloons, I’ll wait until the crowd dies down. I plan to pair my Beaujolais Nouveau with kite-flying and summer picnics, instead.

AOC

I recently had an instant message conversation with a friend that went something like this:

Her: Wearing big, goofy grin cuz Match guy emailed me back

Me: U met him yet?

Her: Going out Sat!!

Me: U been emailing him a lot?

Her: Ya and our emails are amazing

Me: Huh. Maybe u should stop emailing him, cuz it just gets really awkward when u get comfortable emailing someone all the time and u build up all of these expectations and then u finally meet him in person and find out he’s a tool.

I know, it was an awful thing to say. She was so excited, and I blew in like a thunderstorm and rained all over her parade.

This is how I felt about A.O.C.

I had wanted to try chef Suzanne Goin and sommelier Caroline Styne’s second restaurant ever since it opened, back in 2002. The reviews always praise delicious – if expensive – food, and Goin and Styne are known as top-tier professionals who know what they’re doing. The food, as one might expect with a name like A.O.C. (the abbreviation for appellation d’origine contrôlée, meaning “controlled designation of origin” – the geographical system that determines how French wines are labeled), is French-influenced. The menu also has tastes of the Mediterranean (including Spain and Italy), and everything is made in a locally produced, seasonal California style.

With its beiges and creams and splashes of dark brown, the restaurant itself is warm…yet neutral. It’s like the in-laws that seem so happy to see you on Christmas Eve, and then immediately stop talking right after the appetizers: They’re great and you’re pretty sure they love you…but there’s part of you that’s just not quite sure. There is a great build-up, you see, but by the time you’re all packed up to go home, it’s hard not to feel disappointed…

My friend and I visited A.O.C during dineLA, so the restaurant does deserve a bit of a pass. Sort of. But it wasn’t a rushed waitstaff, or unanswered questions about the menu that was the problem. The issue was extremely high prices (even during restaurant week: $44 per person, plus tax and tip), for food that under-delivered. I had the roasted pear, endive hazelnut and St. Agur salad, which was very pleasant. The grilled chicken, escarole, anchovy and parmesan was very satisfying to eat – but would have been more gratifying had there been more of it. And the pumpkin pot de creme with pecans, brown sugar cream and butter cookies was ok, but after a few quarter spoonfuls, I pushed it aside in favor of spending my calories on the wine.

The wine.

I had missed a wine class earlier in the week, and was looking forward to going to A.O.C as an opportunity to catch up on some of the regions/varietals that had been poured; wines like Priorat and Rioja, Barolo and Gavi. But when I read to our server from the list of twenty options, she shook her head every single time. She kept apologizing, and clearly felt bad about the situation. When she escaped from the table, it was clear that she felt she hadn’t fled fast enough. I felt bad for asking in the first place.

Ok, ok. There’s the whole A.O.C. thing – maybe I should’ve just expected French wine. But the wine list isn’t exclusively French – not at all. And with charcuterie such as jamon serrano, lomo and coppa, soppressata and cacciatorini, I would expect at least a smattering of wines to pair with countries of origin.

I was disappointed.

This is not to say that the wine list wasn’t excellent – because there were great wines and an interesting diversity. There were pages of wines available by the glass, carafe and/or bottle, (which can be a nice way to get a bit more for the money). Maybe, if I hadn’t been so hungry and so excited to catch up with my class, my experience at A.O.C. would’ve been entirely different.

Maybe.

But I was looking for love, and left feeling let down. I liked A.O.C., and might even try it again. But if I do go again, I will go without any expectations, and I’ll probably keep things casual. You know, like lunch.