When we were in New York last month, it was unseasonably and oppressively hot for the first couple of days. Then, on Wednesday, it cooled off wonderfully, turning crisp and fall-like, a perfect day to tromp around Chelsea and look at art. Which we did until about 1 o’clockwhen, famished for lunch, we dropped in at Tia Pol Bar de Tapas, a narrow, deep store-front establishment where on this fine day that French doors to the sidewalk were flung wide open.

Chelsea may have been the center of New York’s contemporary art world for more than a decade, but it’s still tough to find a place to get a decent lunch. We have eaten at Empire Diner, right across the street from Tia Pol, many times and were heartily tired of it. Likewise Botino, the old stand-by of the Art Crowd.

So it was a great pleasure to take two stools at the corner of the marble-topped bar at Tia Pol, close to the open front of the restaurant, where we could sit and watch the world and the traffic and the walkers and their dogs go by. Turns out there’s a three-course prix fixe lunch for $16. We couldn’t pass that up! Since there were two choices for each course, we ordered everything. And glasses of sangria, red wine chilled with a few ice cubes and containing a modest amount of diced apple and lemon, so the sangria was completely not sweet and not overwhelmingly fruity. It was incredibly refreshing.

Now the $16 three-course lunch is, one understands, a simple affair. First, gazpacho or blistered gernika green peppers tossed with sea salt. Second, squid with rice in a squid ink sauce or a “po’boy” with crisp squid, aioli, tomato and lettuce. Third, a Fuji apple or a dish of ice cream. Simple, yes, but well-prepared and tasty all around, even to that fresh, crisp Fuji apple.

You can see it the top image that the gazpacho was an attractive reddish-orange color and that it was pureed almost smooth, except for a couple of pieces of tomato; it was delicious. The roasted and blistered peppers were hot, salty and earthy. Squid in its ink is not the most photogenic dish on earth, as you can see, but it was tasty (and fairly chewy), while the sandwich was pretty hearty and down-to-earth. The apple, the vanilla ice cream. Everything was delightful and well-worth the price.

Next time you’re doing the art tour of Chelsea — and don’t take that assignment lightly, we covered only two streets that day — treat Tia Pol as your canteen and oasis. I know that we’ll be back.

Tia Pol is at 205 10th Avenue. Lunch is noon to 3 p.m., Tuesday through Friday, 11 a.m. to 3 p.m. Saturday and Sunday; dinner is 5:30 to 11 p.m., Monday through Thursday, 5:30 to midnight Friday, 6 to midnight Saturday and 6 to 10:30 Sunday. Call (212) 675-8805 or visit tiapol.com, where the lunch and dinner menus are displayed.

Hi, readers, we’ve been in New York since Sunday night. I came up to attend the annual portfolio tasting of the giant importer and distributor Martin Scott Wines — very deep in Burgundy and California boutique wineries plus lots of Spain and Italy — and not coincidentally we’ve eaten some great meals, Sunday night me and LL at Momofuku Ssam and last night with Terry of mondosapore and his permanent pal Ken and our collective friend Julie (with whom we are staying) and the irrepressible wine merchant Gabrio Tosti we had a rather riotous dinner at the marvelous Falai with six bottles of very interesting wine. All of this I will be writing about for BTYH or KoeppelOnWine. Anyway, today we head to Chelsea to tour galleries and meet some friends for dinner at Red Cat. I just wanted you to know where I am and what we’re doing. More later — with pictures and notes.

Maybe not final final because I’m still going to be writing about many of the wines I tasted in New York on March 19, but general thoughts about the event and its implications.

First, the organizers of the event, which offered 167 wines from, I guess, every wine-making region of Italy, need to be better organized. The wines are presented in no order. From table to table, you might have a wine from Tuscany, next to a wine from Abruzzi, next to a wine from Sicily, followed by a wine from Umbria, next to a wine from Piedmont. Since that’s the case, you will find grapes of far different qualities and potential succeeding each other.

And the so-called “Tasting Notebook” doesn’t help, because it lists the wines to be tasted in order of presentation, by table number, and doesn’t mention the region. There’s no way you can scan the list and make sense of regions, grapes or types of wine. And when you have about three hours to try as many wines as possible, you need all the help you can get to be systematic. If you wanted to limit yourself, for example, to wines from Piedmont — Barolo, Barbaresco, Barbera d’Asti and d’Alba, Dolcetto and so on — there’s no way you could sample all the wines except by running back and forth from room to room and table to table like a madman.

More important, though, is what this tasting of award-winning wines says about the Italian wine industry, its history and its expectations.

For instance, I tried the Galatrona 2004, a 100 percent merlot wine from Fattoria di Petrolo in Tuscany. It was solid, a little stolid, well-made but certainly emphasizing structure, even pretty damned tannic and oak-ridden; indeed, it ages 18 months in new French oak barrels. Since merlot grapes are not indigenous or traditional to Tuscany, the wine receives a designation of Toscana I.G.T. — indicazione geografica tipica — stating exactly that fact. I asked the representative at the table what the suggested retail price of the wine was, and he blithely answered, “$85 or $90.”

I mean, really, but the principle question here is, “Why?” And then, “Who cares?” James Suckling, European correspondent for The Wine Spectator called Galatrona the “Le Pin of Tuscany,” referring to the tiny estate in Pomerol, on the Bordeaux Right Bank, that produces a highly finite amount of sumptuous and very expensive wine from merlot grapes. If some errant numbskull began producing sangiovese in Pomerol, would Suckling call it the “Il Poggione of Bordeaux”? What I mean is, great merlot (and by extension cabernet sauvignon) can be found in many of the world’s wine regions; why must Tuscan producers feel that they must compete with (especially) Bordeaux and by implication California by using Bordeaux grapes and aging techniques, that is, in small French oak barrels?

Basically, I found too much cabernet sauvignon and merlot and too much French oak at the Gambero Rosso event. Wine after wine was stiff, tannic and wooden, or velvety, voluptuous and toasty, I mean, California or the new style in Bordeaux. Read Italy’s Noble Red Wines by Sheldon and Pauline Wasserman (Macmillan, 1991, second edition) for the story about how Italian producers have gradually, since the 1970s, switched from using traditional large casks of Slavonian oak (even chestnut) to using 59-gallon French barriques. Yes, many red wines in Tuscany and Piedmont used to be aged too long, so that tannin masked the fruit in youth and wood masked the fruit in maturity, but if you think the transition to small, new French oak barrels hasn’t changed the character of many of these wines, you might believe that Anna Nicole died of whooping cough.

It’s disturbing that Slow Food, originating in Italy but now an international voice for locality, integrity and authenticity in food products and wine, is a sponsor or collaborator in Gambero Rosso’s awards and in this event. There’s not much that’s truly authentic and local about a Tuscan wine made from French grapes and aged in French oak.

For much of the wine press — and I don’t mean the machine that presses the grapes but people who write about wine — trade tastings are a way of life. Only a few writers at the top of the profession, if I may use that dignified term, don’t need to attend these mass events at which there can be the opportunity to sample, in the meager sips poured for you, anywhere from, as in my recent experiences in New York, 35 to 165 wines. Think about the last figure. One-hundred and sixty-five wines is a lot of wine, hence the necessity of sipping judiciously and spitting out the, as it were, used-up wine in your mouth.

When you really want to taste a lot of wines, as was the case a few years ago when VinExpo was in New York and the grand event featured a tasting of Bordeaux red wines from the legendary 2000 vintage, careful planning and a level head are required. I mean, I have seen wine writers of otherwise delicate sensibility and slight constitution throw a block that would make a line-backer quail in order to get to a table where a desirable wine was being poured.

And spitting! The typical procedure is to place buckets at either end of the table, so tasters will have ready access to them. The reality is that so many people crowd particular tables — again, where the best wines are being offered — that it’s impossible to reach the spit bucket on that table, so tasters lean over and spit in the bucket of the next table. Sometimes organizers try to solve the spitting problem by placing the buckets on small tables in the middle of the aisles between the tasting tables, but that procedure usually ends in disaster, because tasters simply step back a bit, twist around and spit from a distance. In a few minutes those tables look like Aztec altars of sacrifice. Not to mention the people who happened to be strolling between a spitter and the distant bucket. And think of what happens when the staff at the tasting, usually a ballroom or event venue, can’t keep up with emptying the spit buckets.

And you thought writing about wine was a noble endeavor!

Another problem at trade tastings lies with the people who don’t come to taste wines but to schmooze, to see and be seen, to drop names all over the place, to bestow air-kisses (mainly women) and punches on the arm (mainly men, though sometimes men give air-kisses, too, depending on the nationality). These are the people who take up a position right in the center in front of a table and stand there forever, jawing away with a winemaker or property owner or public relations manager, gabbing about the last time they were in Rome or London or Santiago, while the rest of us are trying to elbow in, slinking and swerving, holding our glasses up beseechingly, hoping for half-an-ounce of whatever happens to be there.

Frankly, the number of people who take notes at trade tastings is alarmingly small. I mean, what’s the point, though I suppose that the real business of buying and selling doesn’t occur at the tastings but later, in a corridor, on the sidewalk, at dinner. The whole enterprise is pretty hazardous anyway. Imagine juggling a glass, now stained red, your pad and pencil, trying to extract a business card from a pocket that also holds a camera, taking a sip of water occasionally or a bite of bread and making sure that if you shake hands with someone, your fingers aren’t wet with spilled wine.

And then of course, that moment happens, when you’re being hounded and jostled, when the uproar is deafening and your pen is running out of ink and you feel a headache beginning to swell from the back of your neck and your feet and ankles are sore, and you absolutely need to find a restroom, that moment happens when you take in a sip of some wine you’ve never heard of and it hits you, the real thing, a wine with true character and tone and quality, with depth and dimension and deliciousness, and you say, probably louder than you should, though who’s going to hear, “Holy shit,” and you look at the people who poured the wine for you, and they’re grinning from ear to ear.

The image at the top is from the Gambero Rosso tasting of top Italian wines on Monday, March 19, at the Puck Building in New York.

The second image is from the Cercle Rive Droite tasting of 2006 barrel samples from the Right Bank of Bordeaux at Chanterelle in New York on Thursday, March 15.

So, anyway, I attended another trade tasting on Thursday, this one held at Chanterelle, the great restaurant in TriBeCa, a setting that ensured the best snacks I have ever had at such an event. The tasting was mounted by the Cercle Rive Droite, that is, the Circle of the Right Bank, meaning here the Right Bank of Bordeaux, where the reigning red grape is merlot, with cabernet franc playing a supporting role, to large or lesser extent. This situation is in contrast with the Left Bank, where the cabernet sauvignon grape dominates and merlot plays a very important second fiddle, followed by cabernet franc.

The principle appellations of the Right Bank are the august Saint-Emilion and Pomerol. but a host of minor appellations produces fine wines, many of which are increasingly attractive because of the rising prices (especially for the superb 2005 vintage) of Bordeaux’s top properties.

The 44 wines presented at this tasting were all barrel samples from 2006; the finished wines won’t be released until March or April 2008. Tasting the young wines, however (if you can get your tongue around the sometimes searing tannins), gives a decent overview of the year and how the merlot grape performed. Prices are problematic, but I would say that on release most of these examples will cost from about $18 to $40. The producers and chateau owners I talked to seemed almost relieved not to have to deal with a blockbuster year like 2005; now they have fairly accessible wines from an above average to almost excellent vintage that they can sell at reasonable prices.

I will write about these wines in more detail later, but here’s a quick run-down of some of my favorites.

*Chateau Carignan “Prima” 2006, Premieres Cotes de Bordeaux. Deep, dark purple, bright, fresh and clean, vivid, vibrant fruit, harmonious and drinkable. 85% merlot, 10% cabernet sauvignon, 5% cabernet franc.

*Chateau Bel Air La Royere 2006, Blaye. Lovely, penetrating, seductive, immediately attractive, crsushed raspberries, potpourri and plum dust. Try 2010 to 2014. 70% merlot, 30 % malbec.

*Clos Puy Arnaud 2006, Cotes de Castillon. Fresh and attractive but intense and concentrated, cassis, dried raspberries and cranberries, potpourri, seductive spice and flowers. Try 2009 to 2012 or ‘14. 65% merlot, 30% cabernet franc, 5% cabernet sauvignon.

*Chateau de La Dauphine 2006, Fronsac. Huge, massive but succulent, almost sweetly ripe, intensely dusty, almost gritty. Try 2010 to 2014-’16.  90% merlot, 10% cabernet franc.

*Chateau Mazeyres 2006, Pomerol. Beguiling bouquet of sandalwood, exotic spice, dried flowers, cassis, black raspberry, well-balanced and harmonious. Try 2009 to 2012 or ‘14. 83% merlot, 17% cabernet franc.

*La Fleur de Bouard 2006, Lalande de Pomerol. Entrancing bouquet, well-balanced and harmonious, delicious but with a tight tannic and mineral edge. 2009 to 2012 and beyond. 80% merlor, 15% cabernet franc, 5% cabernet sauvignon.

*Chateau Barde-Haut 2006, Saint-Emilion Grand Cru. Lovely style and character, dense, rich, well-balanced, plenty of grit. 2008 to 2014 or ‘16. 90% merlot, 10% cabernet franc.

*Chateau La Marzelle 2006, Saint-Emilion Grand Cru. Gorgeous, a burst of exotic fruit and spice, almost jammy but lots of dense chewy tannins. 2010-1016. 84% merlot, 16%, cabernet franc.

*Chateau Guibot La Fourvieille 2006, Puisseguin Saint-Emilion. First note: God, what a bouquet! Sweet spices, bitter chocolate, cassis and raspberry. luscious but with a dense, dusty texture. 80% merlot, 10% cabernet frranc, 10% cabernet sauvignon.

*Chateau Clos des Jacobins 2006, Saint-Emilion Grand Cru Classe. The scent, the color, the flavor of ink, great style, tone and balance, touch of exoticism, oak is fairly profound. 2010 through 2018 or so. 70% merlot, 28% cabernet franc, 2% cabernet sauvignon.

These posts from NYC make it sound as if I have occupied myself with French wines, when actually I have tasted more Italian wines (which I’ll be reporting on soon), and indeed this afternoon I’m going to my last event, the big Gambero Rosso tasting of top Italian wines. 

Then a quiet dinner, packing my bags (wondering how I’m going to bring back some wine) and a short sleep before catching a 6:30 a.m. flight home.

So, anyway, I landed in New York a week ago today, that is, March 11, and launched myself to work on Monday, at a tasting of Loire Valley sauvignon blanc wines put on by the Loire Valley Wine Bureau. Instead of rounding up a cattle-call of labels, as so often happens at trade tastings — these are attended primarily by wholesalers, retailers, restaurant people and the press — the organizers presented only 35 wines, most of which were top-quality. These were mainly from 2005, a year that has producers celebrating all over France, though a handful of wines from 2004 that were displayed were seductively attractive.

The sauvignon blanc area of the Loire Valley nestles in the eastern part of the region, where that scenic river, which threads its way through the heart of French history, makes a great curve from the south to the west. The most familiar appellations are Sancerre and Pouilly Fume; the others, smaller and relatively obscure, are Touraine Sauvignon, Reuilly, Quincy, Meneton-Salon and Coteaux du Giennois. Loire Valley wines remain seriously underpriced; these represent fabulous value.

I’ll be writing about these wines in detail on a page on the website, but for the moment, I’ll mention five Loire Valley sauvignon blancs you can’t live without, though, as usual and regretfully, I make no promises about availability. 

*Domaine Mardon Quincy Tres Vieilles Vignes 2005. “Very old vines,” indeed, in this case 85 years old. Loads of nerve and energy animate this drinkable yet seriously dimensioned and detailed sauvignon blanc that’s loaded with peach, pear, apple and lime flavors and huge reserves of acid and minerals. I was knocked out. About $13.

*Domaine Henry Natter Sancerre 2004. Not just classic in proportion and detail but a wonderful wine, blazingly clean and fresh and crisp, tremendously earthy and spicy, and, surprising for the price, capable of aging to 2010 or 2012. About $14-$15.

*Domaine Claude Lafound Reuilly “Clos Fussay” 2005. Keen acid, crystalline citrus flavors, shimmering limestone, lovely texture, amazing tone and verve for the price. About $15. 

*Tour St. Martin Meneton-Salon 2004. I hate to be overdrawn on my “lovely” account, but I have to write the check and pronounce this sauvignon blanc lovely in every aspect and scintillating in its exquisite integration and balance. Pay attention to the way in which crisp acid, dense limestone elements and an almost plush texture support and invigorate each other. About $18. 

*Domaine de Congy Pouilly Fume “Cuvee Les Galfins” 2005. Bouquet, fruit, texture draw you in irresistibly, the huge earthy and minerally qualities held in perfect equilibrium with electric acid and toothsome pear, peach and melon flavors. About $20.