Sort of surprising, maybe? Since Pollan’s “The Omnivore’s Dilemma” was published in 2006, the author seems to have been cast in the difficult roles of food activist and superego of conscious consumption.

In “Cooked,” though, he’s clearly having some fun eating and drinking, while still asking all the right questions.

The fundamental question of “Cooked” is “why cook?” The answer takes more than 400 pages and covers braising, baking, and pickle- and cheese-making, among other things.

Neatly (for me, anyway), the first part of the book is about fire and whole-hog barbecue, and the last part is about fermentation, including Pollan’s novice adventures in homebrewing.

Southern aficionados of smoked meat may shake their heads reading about Pollan’s wide-eyed wonder at his first taste of real pulled pork with shards of crackling mixed in. And longtime home brewers may have the same reaction to his sudden discovery of homemade mead and beer.

But that there’s now something called Pollan’s Pale Ale, as well as a Pollan’s pig roast every fall in Berkley, Calif., certainly speaks to transformation.

As usual, Pollan gets deep into the subjects at hand, calling on science, art, literature, religion and mythology to explain what’s going on with barbecue and fermentation. And he does it with language that’s rich and celebratory.

Describing Saccharomyces cerevisiae, the invisible single-cell yeast that makes alcohol, Pollan writes: “Were it a creature that people could see, they might well decide this yeast has a stronger claim to the title of man’s best friend than the dog. Some evolutionary biologists contend that it was the world’s very first domesticated species.”

Ultimately, “Cooked” is a kind of “how-to” book, and it makes you want to get cooking and smoke some meat or brew some beer. As Pollan writes, “What is more gratifying, after all, than discovering you can actually make something delicious (or intoxicating) that you simply assumed you’d always have to buy in the marketplace?”

Even if you aren’t going to fire up the smoker or the brew kettle this weekend, spring is still a great time for barbecue and beer. What makes them such good companions is that smoking meat and boiling wort create a similar kind of caramelization.

Brown ale, Scotch ale and porter will match up by latching on to the smoke and roast flavors in pork, brisket and lamb. But if the rub or sauce on the meat is spicy, try something that’s brighter and offers more contrast, like pale ale or hoppy IPA. For chicken, there’s Belgian wheat beer, saison or biere de garde. And a good American amber lager will work with just about anything on the table.

What’s your favorite barbecue and beer pairing?

Gil Kulers, CWE

H. Billiot Fils, Brut Réserve, Champagne (Image courtesy of Elizabeth Schroth)

• $50
• Two Thumbs Way Up
• Intense aromas of green apple, toasted bread with tons of bright citrus, which ebbed a bit after opening. Lots of fresh citrus on the palate with a playful note of cherry, but also measured chalk-like, mineral notes, baked apple, brown bread and crème brulée that woke up as the wine warmed slightly.

As I write this, the Atlanta Braves baseball club has the best record in the National League and the second-best in the majors. From this unbiased observer’s perspective, the World Series is a virtual lock for the Braves. Therefore, we must start planning now for the ladder of celebrations to come.

The natural celebratory beverage of choice (“The Natural,” get it?) is bubbly. The majority of baseball analysts on my street in Decatur pick the Braves to win the National League East, so we won’t have to deal with the rigmarole of the Wild Card play-in game. Extreme early projections have them locking up the East on Sept. 15 at home against the Padres.

For the uninitiated baseball fan, compiling the best regular-season record in the five-team Eastern Division of the National League gives you a berth in the playoffs. The baseball season is a grueling 162 games, fraught with slumps, injuries and stomach-churning personnel decisions, like playing catcher Brian McCann instead of phenom and rookie of the month for April, Evan Gattis.

Winning the East is big, but it’s just a pit stop on the way to the Big Dance, so our wine can’t be too fancy. Our sparkler should be classy and since we’re talking about the American pastime, let’s pick domestic bubbly. California is a bastion of bubbles. Champagne houses such as Mumm, Chandon, Roederer and Taittinger have been making first-class sparkling wine there for decades.

But let’s choose a real home-grown sparkler. J Vineyards in Sonoma County make some of the most elegant sparkling wines I’ve ever had from anywhere. At a recent gathering of bubble heads, I opened J’s 2004 Late Disgorged Brut ($90), it took everyone’s breath away. We’ll consider this for the championship, but for getting in the playoffs, we’ll pop the cork on J’s Cuvée 20 ($28). Affordable and easily enjoyed by infrequent bubbly imbibers as well as aficionados, this is our choice for the first rung of the ladder.

Next up, the Divisional Championships. The first-round of the playoffs whittle four National League teams down to two, but winning this round—while necessary, of course—is somewhat unfulfilling, which reminds me of cava. Don’t take this the wrong way, lovers of cava—the sparkling wine of Spain and easily the best value in the wine world—but I’ve yet to have a cava that has taken me to the heights of Champagne.

I buy cava; I love cava. Cava is the wine of picnics and Chastain concerts. Cristalino Brut ($8) and Segura Viudas Brut Reserva ($9) are regularly on my shopping list. Considering the importance of our march to the World Series, we’ll up the quality while keeping our eyes on the prize (and our pocketbooks!). Let’s choose Segura Viudas’ Aria Brut ($12). A lovely sparkler to drink, but inexpensive enough to pour on second baseman Dan Uggla’s head.

Who would have guessed that we’d sweep the Cardinals for the National League Championship this year? Payback for last year’s Wild Card loss is sweet, which seems like a nice segue to mention Gruet’s Demi-Sec ($16) or Moët & Chandon’s popular Nectar Rosé Champagne ($75) or the often overlooked Taittinger Nocturne Champagne ($110). All delicious, but I like my sweet dessert sparklers in small doses. When the Braves are crowned the 2013 National League champs, I want a long draught of something special.

I’m at odds on this one. My new favorite Champagne is Chartogne Taillet’s Sainte Anne ($45) from the village of Merfy. Powerful yet elegant, it reminds me of Jason Heyward’s swing. However, it’s hard to deny Henri Billiot’s Brut Réserve ($50) from the amazing village of Ambonnay. Complex and ever-changing in the glass, it is something to behold whether you’re celebrating or not. Since there are no ties in baseball, we’ll go with the Billiot, which fans will have an easier time finding.

For some it’s Krug. For others, it is Dom Perignon ($145), Cristal ($215) or even Armand de Brignac’s Ace of Spades ($245). For me, the Holy Grail of sparkling wine is Champagne Salon. Ridiculously expensive at $320 a bottle, it has simply taken me to places no other Champagne or practically no other wine has. Winning the World Series (or achieving your own significant goals in life) is reward enough for the dedication and hard work it takes to stand alone the final rung of the ladder of success. Rather than viewing this as an extravagance, it is simply pairing the best of times for any baseball fan with the best possible wine.

Gil Kulers is a certified wine educator and a consultant for a metro-Atlanta wine shop. You can reach him at gil.kulers@winekulers.com.

Note: Wines are rated on a scale ranging up from Thumbs Down, One Thumb Mostly Up, One Thumb Up, Two Thumbs Up, Two Thumbs Way Up and Golden Thumb Award. Prices are suggested retail prices as provided by the winery, one of its agents, a local distributor or retailer.

— Gil Kulers, AJC Drink blog

ACBW is sponsored by the Colorado-based Brewers Association (BA), a not-for-profit trade association that represents craft brewery members in everything from legislation to litigation, while organizing big events such as the World Beer Cup, the Great American Beer Festival and the Craft Brewers Conference.

New for 2013, the ACBW Coast to Coast Toast will unite craft beer lovers in all 50 states, who will simultaneously raise their glasses at 8:00 p.m. ET on Thursday, May 16.

Even if you think the toast is a tad hokie, it certainly symbolizes how far craft beer has come in the past decade, penetrating mainstream culture, and bringing new breweries to communities where beer hadn’t been brewed since before prohibition.

In 2012, the BA reported 409 brewery openings, including 310 microbreweries and 99 brewpubs. Around Atlanta, the number of microbreweries and brewpubs has more than tripled in past few years, with more in the building or planning stages.

Atlanta’s Sweetwater Brewing Co. ranks No. 24 on the BA list of the Top 50 U.S. craft brewing companies, based on 2012 beer sales volume. Louisiana’s Abita, the only other Southeastern craft brewery on the list, ranks No. 14.

Of course, some would argue that the top three U.S. craft brewing companies, as tabulated by the BA — Boston Beer Co., Sierra Nevada Brewing Co. and New Belgium Brewing Co. — are getting too big to be considered craft breweries.

But in 2012, even as craft beer sales reached record levels, that only accounted for just over six percent of the total U.S. beer market, the top three included.

On May 16, I’ll raise a glass to all the good beer behind those facts and figures. And I plan to visit as many of Atlanta’s craft breweries, brewpubs, beer bars and beer-aware restaurants as I can during American Craft Beer Week.

So far, I know the Brick Store, 5 Seasons, Leon’s, Midway Pub and the Porter plan to present ACBW beer and food specials, beer dinners, tap takeovers and other events.

More ACBW info here: www.craftbeer.com

— Bob Townsend, AJC Drink blog.

Gil Kulers, CWE

2011 Peillot Altesse, Roussette du Bugey, Montagnieu, France

• $24
• Two Thumbs Way Up
• Refreshing floral notes with plentiful aromas of tart citrus and fresh bell pepper. Tart citrus fruits and a touch of lemon zest and a raw almond quality balance out delicate mineral and petrol notes.

Did you hear the one about the hipster wine-o who burned his lip drinking coffee? He drank it before it was cool.

Or this one? How much does a hipster wine-o weigh? An Insta-gram.

In April, I had the pleasure of attending the Drink Local Wine conference in Baltimore. DLW promotes wines from lesser-known and undiscovered wine regions and after morning seminars, a lunch featuring Maryland wines and a media tasting, the doors were opened to the general public for a Twitter tasting of 40-plus wines from The Old Line State. (More on what a Twitter tasting is in a moment.)

As the crowd shuffled in, to my pleasant surprise I saw about 350 of the youngest faces ever at a wine event. I patrolled the tasting tables on the sixth floor of the B&O Warehouse at Camden Yards and I overheard the most remarkable conversations.

“You have to try that Black Ankle Albariño!”

“No, no, no Boordy’s Meritage is completely ready to drink now.”

“You don’t think Slack’s sparkler needed a little dosage?”

These “kids,” all well under 30, were having animated, insightful discussions about wine. As I later discovered at a dinner with Whitney Rigsbee, a 26-year-old media relations specialist for Nomacorc, a synthetic cork manufacturer and sponsor of the DLW conference, I was witnessing the rise of the hipster wine-o.

Hipster wine-o’s, as Rigsbee describes them, are young, urban professionals that are not necessarily upwardly mobile financially, but very much into life’s finer pleasures, such as exotic coffees, unique foods, craft beers and wine (Those are her jokes up at the top, BTW). They prefer to be ahead of trends and are very much into social media. DLW’s Twitter tasting, where tasters tweeted their impressions of the wines (go to #DLW13 and #MDWine to read hundreds of tweets from the conference), trended higher than Kobe Bryant’s ruptured Achilles’ tendon and Tiger Woods’ illegal ball drop at The Master’s. All three events occurred the same weekend. That’s a lot of chatter about Maryland wine.

I wondered out loud, how is it that so many young people are into activities more typically associated with older folk?

Rigsbee speculates hipsters in general like to confound expectations— especially those of older generations. We agreed that after decades chicken nuggets and juice boxes in the back of the mini-van, hipsters prefer unprocessed, “real” foods and drinks. The term “wine geek” holds no stigma for a hipster wine-o.

As we pushed around tuna tartar and pasta with lamb bolognaise across our plates, we came up with the following checklist that playfully describes hipster wine-o’s. With apologies to Jeff Foxworthy, who definitely is not a hipster because he’d never fit in a pair of skinny jeans, you might be a hipster wine-o if…

You pass on the Two Buck Chuck. Hipster wine-o’s track down single-vineyard releases or wines from Montagnieu, France, (Hey, hipsters, check out today’s wine review). If you can get it at Trader Joe’s or Publix, no thanks.

You ask not where a wine’s grapes are grown, but how they’re grown. Hipsters only order sustainable, organic or biodynamic wines.

Oaky chardonnay is not in your vocabulary.

You have more wine-related bookmarks than you can count and at least seven wine apps for you iPhone (and one of those is in a foreign language).

You own an olive oil-treated, vegetable-tanned leather wine carrier for your fixed-gear bike. (Not making this up. Go to www.etsy.com.)

Your Saturday morning ritual is a tasting comparison of coffee beans from Latin America followed by a flight of grenaches from southern France.

You argue with friends over who Instagrammed last night’s bottle of Sancerre the best. (Check out my Instagram pic of me reviewing this week’s wine at @WineKulers.)

You flirt with the sommelier for the sole purpose of getting a taste of the restaurant’s orange wine from Croatia.

I asked Rigsbee if I might be a hipster wine-o? She made it clear that 48-year-olds who try (or really anyone who tries), only end up looking foolish. So, I guess I’ll return those skinny jeans and remain a hipster wine-o at heart.

Gil Kulers is a certified wine educator and a consultant for a metro-Atlanta wine shop. You can reach him at gil.kulers@winekulers.com.

Note: Wines are rated on a scale ranging up from Thumbs Down, One Thumb Mostly Up, One Thumb Up, Two Thumbs Up, Two Thumbs Way Up and Golden Thumb Award. Prices are suggested retail prices as provided by the winery, one of its agents, a local distributor or retailer.

— Gil Kulers, AJC Drink blog

Unless you’re one of the few remaining unreconstructed wine snobs, who pout and sniff and say, “I just don’t like beer,” it’s not much of a challenge to find a style that will suit your palate. Beyond that, there are beers for every season, occasion, cuisine and dish.

But, I will admit, among all that diversity and seemingly endless choices, there are still beer styles I don’t embrace with open arms. Give me malty, hoppy, crispy or refreshing any day. Sour, I need to consider a bit more carefully. Same with smoky. I want to be wooed, not assaulted by those strong aromas and flavors. And I want them to come dancing with some good balance.

And then there’s Black IPA — or Cascadian Dark Ale, as the West Coasters like to call it. In essence, it’s a dark ale, with roasty malts, a good bit of citrusy American hops and an alcohol range that tends toward the higher side.

Currently, Black IPA isn’t included under the IPA category in the style guidelines of the Beer Judge Certification Program (BJCP). But in recent years, the Brewers Association has included a category for judging at the Great American Beer Festival called American-Style Black Ale.

In 2012, Firestone Walker’s Wookey Jack Black IPA won a Gold Medal in the Black Ale category. Other commercial examples include 21st Amendment Back in Black, Boulevard Grainstorm Black Rye IPA, Duck-Rabbit Hoppy Bunny American Black Ale, Heavy Seas Black Cannon IPA, Stone Sublimely Self-Righteous and Victory Yakima Glory.

Not long ago, Marietta’s Red Hare released Bitter Hearts Double Black IPA, a complex black brew, with a combo of Crystal and Midnight Wheat malts and Falconer’s Flight, Chinook and Cascade hops, that was dry-hopped with Summit, Cascade and Columbus whole cone hops.

To my palate, Bitter Hearts drinks like a robust American porter, with notes of strong black tea and chocolate. In a blind tasting, I would not pick it out as an IPA. It’s one of those beers I would call a head shaker. I think it’s interesting. Probably not a true Black IPA. But maybe that’s why I like it.

For me, that combination of roasted malts and citrusy hops is a very delicate balancing act. Bad examples tend to be bitter in a very unpleasant way. That’s my complaint.

Discussing the style with a high-ranking BJCP judge at a recent beer festival, he said that a perfect example should marry the malts and hops in a subtle way that becomes greater than the sum of its parts. But he admitted that gestalt is as rare as a unicorn.

Just over the horizon, look for Sweetwater Some Strange. The first Dank Tank series product to emerge from the brewery’s new 250-barrel brew house expansion, the limited-time release is a 9 percent alcohol-by-volume Double Black IPA. It’s brewed with coffee and chocolate malts, hopped with Amarillo, Pacific Jade and Zythos, and dry-hopped with Falconer’s Flight, Falconer’s 7 C’s and Topaz.

Those who’ve had an early taste compare it to Sweetwater IPA with a shot of espresso. Now that might be a head shaker, too.

What do you think about Black IPA? Have you tried one you like? Or are you still wondering?

— By Bob Townsend, AJC Drink blog.

Gil Kulers, CWE

N.V. Landskroon Sauvignon Blanc, Western Cape, South Africa

• $31
• Two Thumbs Up
• Appealing aromas of white flowers, pine forest and fresh linen. Dry and crisp, it offers flavors of tart citrus, mandarin orange with subtle notes of bell pepper, raw almonds and a chalk-like minerality.

If there is a common complaint among readers of these columns, it goes something like this: “Gregg, we can never find the wines you write about.”

First of all, it’s Gil. And second, “never” is pretty definitive. Never ever?

To further alienate readers (both of them), I’ll say this about the column you are now reading: You will never be able to find today’s featured wine save for one place. And in a few short months, that place likely will be gone.

Dante’s Down the Hatch seems like a relic amidst today’s uber-hip, chef-as-star restaurants. Places that hail organic produce like it’s something new or use obscure ingredients and techniques as a substitute for culinary skill. Ostensibly, Dante’s has no chef. You are the chef when it comes to fondue, right?

At the heart of Dante’s is Dante Stephenson, who for 43 years has weathered numerous culinary revolutions and a failed re-birth of Underground Atlanta. Through it all, Stephenson has maintained a wide-ranging, voluminous wine list that was nearly peerless in the 1970s and still overmatches the simplicity of his menu and the wine lists of most other Atlanta restaurants.

If you’re just hearing about Dante’s—with its subtle nautical theme and live crocodiles—my space does not allow further explanation other than to say it is distinctive. Exhibit 1: Dante’s Down The Hatch Sauvignon Blanc.

Private label wines are common. Some restaurants go to the trouble of selecting barrels and are true partners with the winemaker; others slap a label any ol’ California chardonnay. Few…er…none travel to South Africa to source their wines.

Unless you have some serious time on your hands, don’t ask Stephenson about his world travels, especially his numerous journeys through Africa. During one of these trips in the late 1990s, he came across the winemakers for Landskroon Wine Estate, located on the southwestern slopes of Paarl Mountain, just outside Cape Town. After careful consideration, which included a serious evaluation by Stephenson’s staff, a deal was struck. The winery would make a sauvignon blanc and a pinotage just for Dante’s.

I was skeptical when Stephenson handed me a sample of his sauvignon blanc, which I took back to the lab for analysis. Pre-judging wine is an occupational hazard for me and, to be honest, I did not expect much from this wine. But like his restaurant, Down the Hatch sauvignon blanc is an enigmatic reflection of the restaurant’s owner.

Rather than insipid, it was sublime. I was expecting a slightly off-dry, mass-appeal, soft white wine, but it was crisp, distinctive and dry as a bone. These dry, zesty South African sauvignon blancs have more recently struck a chord with consumers, making Down The Hatch a bit of a trendsetter.

“I believe in bringing in wines from all over the world,” says Subo Hale, the wine buyer for Dante’s. “I’ve been trying to put more types of grapes on the list in recent years instead of just [French varieties]. I think a wine list should be fun and exciting and I want people to try different things.”  Hale has been with Dante’s since 1974 and maintains a list that ranges between 180 and 200 selections.

Hale turns melancholy when the subject turns to Dante’s closing, which is projected to be this July. (Stephenson is coy about the exact date, or if fact if it will come to pass.) Hale doesn’t know what will happen to Dante’s wine collection if the restaurant does close, but she contemplates something special, befitting Dante’s unique style.

What does Stephenson have to say about the pending closure? “Forty-three years is a long run. The federal stats for entertainment clubs is that 39 out of 40 do not make it to year three. We have apparently done something correct.”

One out of 40? C’mon, Dante! You’re one in a million.

Gil Kulers is a certified wine educator and a consultant for a metro-Atlanta wine shop. You can reach him at gil.kulers@winekulers.com.

Note: Wines are rated on a scale ranging up from Thumbs Down, One Thumb Mostly Up, One Thumb Up, Two Thumbs Up, Two Thumbs Way Up and Golden Thumb Award. Prices are suggested retail prices as provided by the winery, one of its agents, a local distributor or retailer.

— Gil Kulers, AJC Drink blog

Craft brewing didn’t get going in North Georgia until the mid-’90s. And many of the breweries and brewpubs didn’t survive the nationwide craft brewing shakeout of the late-’90s, though the remaining companies, including Atlanta’s Sweetwater, rode out the bust to become far more successful.

Looking back on Atlanta’s craft beer beginnings, with help from the smart folks who offer opinions and insights on the Atlanta Beer Talk list (atlantabeer.com), it’s amazing to behold bright-and-shiny new breweries like Monday Night and Three Taverns.

Atlanta’s first microbrewery, Marthasville Brewing Co., founded by publican Michael Gerard in 1994, was cobbled together from old dairy equipment. Terrapin Beer Co. co-founder John Cochran and Brick Store Pub co-founder Dave Blanchard were part of the Marthasville crew back in the day.

“My main job was sales,” Blanchard said. “But when we packaged, I would work on the bottling line. There wasn’t a whole lot of us, so we did whatever needed to be done. It’s a totally different game now. It’s not even close to the same game we were playing in the ’90s.”

On “The Lost Beers” website (thelostbeers.com), created by brewer David Fowlkes and beer writer Bobby Bush “to share the old brewer profiles and recipes,” you’ll find a recipe for Sweet Georgia Brown. The well-named brown ale, later adopted by Sweetwater, was the most popular of the Marthasville beers, which also included an unfiltered pale ale.

Over in Athens, Blind Man Ales, founded in 1995 by Bob Tibbs, became known for brewer John Gayer’s imaginative takes on classic styles. Created with a glorified home-brew rig, Gayer’s India Brown Ale, hopped like an IPA, and Espresso Stout, brewed with coffee from Jittery Joe’s, have a very familiar ring today.

In Atlanta, Dogwood Brewing, founded in 1996 by owner/brewer Crawford Moran, offered four seasonal beers, including spring bock, spiced summer brew, fall Oktoberfest and Belgian-style winter ale. And Moran was an early adopter of barrel-aged beers, which he’s continued making in ever more exotic ways at 5 Seasons Brewing Co..

Marthasville and Blind Man didn’t survive the ’90s. Dogwood closed in 2004. But each brewery made a mark on beer around here, along with the likes of the Phoenix, Atlanta’s first brewpub, and the current site of 5 Seasons in Sandy Springs.

What are your local craft beer memories?

Beer Pick

New Albion Ale

Boston Beer Co., Boston, Mass.

$8.99/ six-pack at metro package and grocery stores.

Profile: New Albion Ale is brewed in honor of Jack McAuliffe, founder of California’s New Albion Brewing Co., which opened in 1976, closed in 1983 and is widely considered the first US “micro” brewery. By today’s standards, this American pale from McAuliffe’s original recipe is pretty tame, with a clean, mild hop presence. But it is a nice bit of brewing history in a bottle.

Pair with: Pair this refreshing, mildly bitter beer with pub grub, like sandwiches, burgers, or fish and chips, or try it with spicy Mexican or Asian dishes.

— Bob Townsend, AJC Drink blog.

Gil Kulers, CWE

2011 Schloss Gobelsburg, Gobelsburger, Riesling, Kamptal, Austria

• $20
• Golden Thumb Award
• A study in contrasts with delicate floral notes supported by powerful aromas of tree fruit, apricot and lime zest. This dry riesling is full-bodied with flavors of tart citrus fruit, fleshy peach, mango and stony minerals with an eternal and peppery finish.

[In solidarity with government agencies facing severe challenges during budgetary sequestration, Gil will squeeze two columns in the space of one this week and indiscriminately cut the ending of the second column by 10 percent.]

Column 1

If you haven’t already discovered the Austrian wunderkind grüner veltliner, now’s the time. Yes, this white wine has a scary umlaut that poses some pronunciation challenges (GROON-ner FELT-lih-ner). But you’re not going to let a couple Germanic words stand in the way of the world’s greatest food wine, are you?

Something approaching a comedy sketch was routinely launched by me and a former co-worker when we were given a challenging food-wine pairing. “Well, there’s grüner, of course,” was the catchphrase we’d say in tandem to bewildered customers. And while we didn’t always suggest a grüner, it speaks to this unique grape’s adaptability to a wide swath of cuisines.

Think of grüner as a wine with the crispness of a pinot grigio, the complexity of a white Burgundy and the power of Russian River pinot noir. That’ll cover a lot bases food-wise. I’ve successfully paired grüners with the sweet tang of southern barbecue, spicy Thai cuisine, troublesome dishes with asparagus and/or artichokes, ethereal and earthy dashi broth and wholesome Alsatian choucroute with all the meaty fixin’s.

Column 2

A few years back, I was sitting in an enlightening seminar on rieslings given by renowned German winemaker Ernst Loosen. He took the gathered wine professionals in the room on a tour of rieslings around the world.

We tried rieslings from Australia, Washington state, Alsace, France, and Germany, of course. The standout of the group, however, was a riesling from Austria.  I observed—and others in attendance agreed—that the Austrian riesling seemed to be a freakish cocktail of the other four.

Due in part to the sequester, I don’t have the resources to look up the Austrian riesling in question. I do remember it was as crisp as the Australian riesling, as fresh as the one from Washington, as complex as the Alsatian with the steely, slate-like minerality of the German.

I fondly remembered this seminar as I recently sat across the table from a riesling made by Schloss Gobelsburg. The wine, called Gobelsburger, comes from the terraced vineyards northwest of Vienna in Austria’s Kamtal region. Not only was it the most enjoyable wine I’d tried in months, it was 20 bucks—a bargain for a wine of such remarkable quality. Although alone in my kitchen, I asked myself out loud: “Why are we not enjoying more Austrian rieslings?!”

Here’s why. If there is a problem with Austrian rieslings, it’s their availability. One Atlanta retailer I’m familiar with offers merely two. Austrian rieslings stand in the long shadow of big brother grüner veltliner. To give you the scope, the store that offers two Austrian rieslings has more than 15 grüners on its shelves. So, it’s easy to love, but hard to find.

There you have it. Two columns in the space of one. Maybe this sequestration concept isn’t such a …

Gil Kulers is a certified wine educator and a consultant for a metro-Atlanta wine shop. You can reach him at gil.kulers@winekulers.com.

Note: Wines are rated on a scale ranging up from Thumbs Down, One Thumb Mostly Up, One Thumb Up, Two Thumbs Up, Two Thumbs Way Up and Golden Thumb Award. Prices are suggested retail prices as provided by the winery, one of its agents, a local distributor or retailer.

— Gil Kulers, AJC Drink blog

Whatever the weather, early spring is a time to enjoy the overlapping of darker and lighter seasonal beers. What was once a traditional time of maibock drinking has become a craft beer celebration of anything goes. That means there’s always something crisp and refreshing to sip perched at a beer garden on a clear afternoon or something hearty and boozy to savor huddled by a fire pit on a brisk night.

Here’s an early spring beer almanac to forecast your seasonal drinking schedule:

Boulevard Grainsorm Black Rye IPA — Though it’s dark in color from roasted wheat malt, this IPA with 7.7 percent alcohol by volume, or abv, is all about the rye, which shines through in all its spicy glory. Simcoe, Bravo, Amarillo and Citra hops impart plenty of aroma and bitterness, playing off the rye in a bold but balanced way.

Founders All Day IPA — Hoppy but not but high in alcohol, Founders says this 4.7 percent abv IPA “keeps your taste satisfied while keeping your senses sharp.” In release from March until September, it’s a full-flavored session brew that’s perfect for an afternoon of pints at the pub.

Highland Devil’s Britches — A midwinter seasonal that makes a hearty bridge to spring, this 6 percent abv IPA pours a deep ruby red, with plenty of bitterness from the addition of Apollo hops, and earthy, spicy, fruity notes. Ashburne Mild malt balances the bitterness with toasty, biscuity flavors.

Samuel Adams Alpine Spring — This unfiltered German-style 5.5 percent abv lager will make your non-craft-beer-drinking friends happy from spring to summer. Bright and crisp and brewed with Noble Tettnang hops from the foothills of the Alps, it’s smooth and refreshing but surprisingly not wimpy.

Sweetwater So Fine Red Wheat Wine Ale — In honor of Sweetwater’s 16th anniversary, this limited-edition Dank Tank release is an 11 percent abv big boy brewed with 45 percent wheat. The malty sweetness is balanced by a hefty dose of Amarillo, Willamette, Nelson Sauvin and US Goldings hops.

Terrapin Mosaic — Side Project Volume 19 is a limited-release 6.6 percent abv red ale brewed with a single hop variety known as Mosaic. The experimental spawn of the Simcoe hop delivers complex, citrusy aromas and flavors backed by a nice variety of malts, including Munich, Rye and Crystal.

Event

Classic City Brew Fest

One of the great harbingers of spring also happens to be one of the Southeast’s longest-running beer-tasting festivals. The Classic City Brew Fest in Athens has been going strong for 18 years, offering a fun, intimate setting at the Foundry Park Inn. There, you can sip and learn about some 300 great craft beers from around the world. Curated by cask ale expert Owen Ogletree, the cask ale pavilion is a big draw, with 15 one-off beers made just for the event. Tickets $39.99, available in advance only at: classiccitybrew.com/. 2:30-6 p.m. April 7. 295 E. Dougherty St., Athens. 706-549-7020, foundryparkinn.com.

— By Bob Townsend, AJC Drink blog

Gil Kulers, CWE

2004 Campo Viejo, Gran Reserva, Rioja, Spain

• $20
• Two Thumbs Up
• Engaging aromas of earth, anise-laced biscotti and perfume-like black cherry. Juicy flavors of tart black cherry, espresso, toasted almonds and a subtle pine forest note.

Confession time: It absolutely galls me when I’m wrong. And I’m not saying I’m never wrong, but my paradigm prefers to remain firmly where I’ve planted it. This rather pigheaded way of thinking was never more on display than the day I hesitatingly, grudgingly and uncheerfully agreed that glassware makes a difference in how we enjoy our wine.

I have always adhered to the idea that the people outside a wine glass are far more important than any liquid inside. Given the choice, I’d take a non-descript white Bordeaux in a Dixie cup with friends every time over a 1947 Cheval Blanc in fine crystal with a bunch of fools. I still feel that way.

But whining about glasses sounds so pretentious that I’m reluctant to lend any credibility to the importance of proper glassware and wine. Yet, appropriate glassware is the 500-pound gorilla riding a white elephant that we often choose to ignore.

About 15 years ago—when I clung to my it’s-just-as-good-in-a-jelly-jar mentality—I stood in front of a smiling representative of the Riedel Glass Company of Austria. Riedel was then, as it is now, the preeminent glass manufacturer in the world. He was pouring a chardonnay into two fairly similar glasses and I was asked to pick which wine I preferred. Surprise. I chose the Riedel glass.

“Luck!” I accused. We tried the same exercise again with a different wine. And then again, with the same result both times. “This is bull-generated fertilizer,” said a frustrated me. This incident occurred at a one-table booth at a public event and the line behind me got longer and louder as I continued the defense of my indefensible position. The rep, no longer smiling, suggested I move along.

Wrong! Me! Ugh!

Since that day, I’ve come to accept that perceiving the multiple facets of a wine has a lot to do with its smell and, to a lesser extent, how it is delivered onto your tongue. A glass can open a fire hose of aromas that can make a cabernet sauvignon appear overly alcoholic or it can allow delicate aromas to escape unnoticed and make your pinot noir smell like, well, nothing.

Like corrective eyewear, appropriate stemware merely puts a wine in focus so you can experience all its wonders that are right under your nose.

I was reminded of this recently when I ordered a Rioja red wine from Spain at an Atlanta restaurant. The wine, which I was familiar with, was accompanied by stubby, thick-walled, straight-sided glasses. The wine, which I was familiar with, simply did not live up to its potential. I silently blamed the glass.

Do you have own every glass made to enjoy wine? No. A well-made, tulip-shaped-glass with no lip that can hold at least 20 ounces may be all you need. Do you have to spend a mint on glassware? You absolutely can, but I don’t recommend it. Decent glasses, however, are not cheap.

I run with six different kinds of glasses, which is a lot, but consider what I do for a living. I have an all-purpose Spiegelau white glass (used for crisp, aromatic whites and some dessert wines), an all-purpose Spiegelau red glass (used for just about everything else, including some chardonnays), a Spiegelau Bordeaux glass (used for big cabernets and older wines, including some pinot noirs), a Spiegelau pinot noir glass (used for young pinot noirs, light-bodied reds and when I just need another red glass) and a Spiegelau sparkling wine glass.

I also have about 100 restaurant-grade, all-purpose Riedel red glasses, which closely resemble the all-purpose Spiegelau red glasses except they have short stems that allow them to fit easily in the dishwasher (22 at a time when I have to). I use these for my wine classes and everyday use.

I paid on average about $6 a piece for the above-list glasses. And I replace broken glasses at about $6 a piece, but with identical glasses. That’s the beauty of choosing lines that don’t go out of production. You should count on paying somewhere around this price. Interestingly, the more expensive the glass, the less durable it is. Expensive glasses too delicate for the dishwasher hold no charm over me.

Wine glasses aren’t cheap, but neither is a decent bottle of wine. If you want to get the most out of that $20 Rioja you just put in your shopping cart, then—like it or not—a small investment in corrective glassware is the price you must pay.

Gil Kulers is a certified wine educator and a consultant for a metro-Atlanta wine shop. You can reach him at gil.kulers@winekulers.com.

Note: Wines are rated on a scale ranging up from Thumbs Down, One Thumb Mostly Up, One Thumb Up, Two Thumbs Up, Two Thumbs Way Up and Golden Thumb Award. Prices are suggested retail prices as provided by the winery, one of its agents, a local distributor or retailer.

— Gil Kulers, AJC Drink blog