(From The Real-World Wine Guide, courtesy of foodtv.com.)
Let not my name be associated with a denunciation of the margarita, for I think it one of the world's greatest cocktails, so attractive that it alone has the power to pull me (and millions of others, I assume) into Mexican restaurants.
Nor shall I degrade the names of Mexican beers such as Corona, Tecate and Pacifico Clara, with flavors so mild and alcohol so low that they merge seamlessly with blazing hot food.
But let's say you want wine with your chips, guacamole and salsa, as I often do? That's when I recommend something even more south of the border: New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc.
Mexican meals can make a wine pairing difficult. Those wicked chiles knock out the flavor of any wine or strong beer. So you need to choose a good wine and tailor the menu. The tailoring's easy: Just steer clear of them ornery jalapeños! Mexican food is not necessarily one of the world's hottest cuisines; often, in Mexico, it's the application of hot sauce at the table that makes it hot. But the stuff coming out of the kitchen — particularly in the true regional cuisines, and particularly in fine restaurants — is usually hot only in temperature. Conspire with your waiter, unless you're afraid of being thought a wimp; find out what's low-key on the menu, in a hot-chile sense, and order it.
Then go for the New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc. This remarkable wine — stuffed with green, herbal flavors, a green-apple/grapefruit/passion-fruit fruitiness, and wrapped in a zippily acidic frame — started to draw world attention in the 1980s. Before long, wine gurus around the planet were calling New Zealand Sauvignon Blanc — particularly the ones from the Marlborough region, at the north end of New Zealand's South Island — the best Sauvignon Blancs being made in the world today.
But a little trouble in paradise developed, from my point of view. One of the most successful labels was Cloudy Bay, which received enormous attention and praise. The makers allowed their fruit to get a little riper, and their wine to come to the market sweeter rather than bone-dry. Seeing their success, other Marlborough wineries started to follow suit.
The upshot is this: Whereas ten years ago you could pick up just about any Marlborough Sauvignon Blanc for your enchilada feast, today you have to be more selective. The wines, on average, are higher in alcohol and sweeter, with less of that tingling acid zap that enables them to buzz-saw through rich Mexican food. I recently tasted through about 3 dozen Marlborough Sauvignon Blancs and, my fellow guacamole gourmands, found a few that will absolutely do the fajita trick just like the old days.
I was wowed by the crispness of a new one on me, the 2001 Dashwood Sauvignon Blanc, which I'm told costs not much more than ten bucks. Its parent winery also reached me with a more complex but similarly zingy 2000 Vavasour Sauvignon Blanc. I also found the 2001 Framingham Sauvignon Blanc right in my own personal Mexican groove; others that approached the groove were the 2001 Mount Riley Sauvignon Blanc, the 2001 The Crossings Sauvignon Blanc, and the 2001 Jackson Estate Sauvignon Blanc.
Most wine shops should have at least one of these tasty Sauvignon Blancs. If your shop doesn't, ask the store manager to order the wine for you. If he refuses, there's always the double margarita.
