Maryland Presses Ahead

In Frederick County, Free State Wines Begin to Age Nicely

Before touring the wineries of Frederick County, my wife, Jan, and I mull two potential hazards: the drinking and the driving.

Though we are not snobs, we know the difference between good wine and bad. So our first concern is that the wine might taste dreadful. We live in Maryland, but we know zippy about the state's wines or its wineries. Crabs, yes; cabs, no.

Our second concern is how to sample the wares at one establishment and drive soberly to the next. We solve that problem by making an overnight of it at a Frederick motel and by taking very, very small sips of various wines, buying bottles of the ones we like and saving them for choice moments. Maybe uncorking one later in the evening, when we are reading Pablo Neruda's "Ode to Wine" together.

Day-colored wine,

night-colored wine,

wine with purple feet

or wine with topaz blood.

The newly emerging wine country east and northeast of Frederick is rolling and lovely, even in the gray drear of winter. There is a romantic poetry in the starkness, leafless trees and omnipresent birds silhouetted against the sky. And because the wineries are open year-round, there is more time to learn about the craft. Besides, wine can warm the coldest heart.

Our first stop of the day is Linganore Winecellars near New Market. Joanne Lachance is the amiable, unpretentious tasting-room manager. She has been working at the winery for a couple of years. She tells us of the vineyard's first planting in 1972 by Jack and Lucille Aellen and of the traditions that have been handed down. The tasting room is a spacious, well-lighted, remodeled part of a giant old peg barn that also houses the company's winemaking and bottling contraptions. We stand at a counter in a corner of the room while Joanne pours tiny fingers of the dry White Raven into one glass and a sweeter Terrapin White into another. Here and there are plates of oyster crackers for palate-cleansing. Through picture windows we can see some of the 300 or so barrels where the reds and the chardonnay are aging. As we taste, other people flow in and out. One woman samples the merlot, which won the 2005 Maryland Governor's Cup for best wine. The wines range from $10 to $24 a bottle.

The White Raven, Joanne says, "is really a semi-dry. Not as dry as a chardonnay."

She's right. She rinses out my glass and pours a deep red. Jan likes the dessert wines. On the tasting sheet she puts a check by Steeple Chase Red, a softer wine.

Joanne says it goes great with chocolates. Take a swig and "you'll forget about any troubles you ever had."