Culinary Wine & Food Adventures

La Follette's Strange Fruits

2011-12-04T22:50:00.013-07:00

No winemaker is as widely known, and often misunderstood, as Greg La Follette

La Follette in Sangiacomo Vineyard

This profile and interview was originally composed for Sommelier Journal (Nov. 2011), where it appeared in abbreviated form as a winery profile.

We like our winemakers to be unique, but not odd. We like their wines to be intense and expressive of something, but not so different that we can't easily compare them to other wines within our points of reference. We even like to talk concepts like "natural" and terroir, as long as the ramifications of such are reasonably easy to sell -- at least for those of us in the restaurant or retail trade.

Greg La Follette has never been one to make things easy for us, despite the notoriety of being first real winemaker at Flowers, during this extreme Sonoma Coast estate’s formative stage in the late nineties. When La Follette ventured off on his own, founding Tandem Winery in 2001, it was almost as if he wanted us to forget the glory years at Flowers, and even earlier milestones, such as the years when he led Hartford Court into the Pinot Noir and Chardonnay Big Leagues.

For one, he’s been rarely seen: after starting Tandem, he turned into one of those flying winemakers, designing and consulting for more than a dozen wineries across the globe, at one point on five different continents (including at home in Sonoma, for it was La Follette that Jean-Charles Boisset first called upon to restore De Loach after taking it out of bankruptcy in 2003). Between raising kids (a total of six, between wife Mara La Follette and himself) and whispering to vines, there simply hasn’t been much time for public relations or even sales.

Second, when there were La Follette sightings, it was usually of a grizzled man in well worn overalls and an unfortunate haircut – not an image of the suave celebrity winemaker – while the twenty or so wines produced each year under the Tandem label became known more for their tendency to stick out in comparative tastings, challenging even the most adventurous palates with oft-times discomforting sensations of down-and-dirty earth, pungent meats, unidentifiable flowers, or strange fruits – love it or leave it – despite their structural integrity and sleek, coiled intensity.

Still, La Follette’s energy quickly grew Tandem to over 9,000 cases a year; and although the winemaker’s legend also expanded, especially among geekier elements of the cognoscente, the wines were not exactly flying out the cellar door. Enter Peter Kight, owner of Wine Creek LLC, which also handles Barossa Valley’s Torbreck Wines and Dry Creek Valley’s Quivira Vineyards. In 2008 Kight began chatting with La Follette about taking Tandem off his hands, in a deal that would also retain his consumnate skills as a winemaker, and his uncanny eye for edgy vineyard sourcing. In January 2009 Tandem officially became part of Wine Creek.

Kight’s company immediately brought steadier management, sound marketing and broader distribution to Tandem; particularly by halving SKUs to less than ten, and bringing the products into more realistic price points (from $40-$70 to $30-$40). After a year into it, Kight came to La Follette with an even better idea – scrap the Tandem label altogether; establish a new name, and re-focus it on what it really is: La Follette Wines, launched in summer of 2010.

Within the Wine Creek fold, La Follette himself enjoys more freedom than ever as a winegrower; his feet firmly set, so to speak, in the terroir: if anything, he has always been known for a single minded focus on vineyard expression, even at the expense of “varietal” or brand identification. To Kight’s credit, Wine Creek has rolled with it, and so far so good.

While fewer in number, the brand formerly known as Tandem still consists of single vineyard and Sonoma Coast bottlings from some of the finest, most prestigious vineyards on the North Coast:

DuNah – in the fog and windswept Sebastopol Hills, at the southernmost end of the Russian River Valley AVA

Sangiacomo’s Roberts Road – (not to be confused with the Sangiacomo family’s Carneros plantings), falling in the Sonoma Coast AVA on the eastern edge of Petaluma Gap, at the base of Sonoma Mountain

Van der Kamp – a 1,400 ft. elevation Sonoma Mountain planting (highest in the AVA) dating back to the early sixties

Lorenzo – an historic 36 year old Chardonnay vineyard on the floodplain south of Santa Rosa in the Russian River Valley AVA

Hawk’s Roost – another late ripening Russian River Valley site located on the Santa Rosa floodplain

Manchester Ridge – a newer site (planted 2002-2004) on a remote, dizzyingly high 2,800 ft. peak in Mendocino Ridge, and one that has only solidified La Follette’s reputation for edgy, iconoclastic winegrowing.

Lorenzo Vineyard

This past spring La Follette sat down and talked about his 27 years of winegrowing, now crystallized in his eponymous new brand:

RC: Although you’ve established a reputation for the unorthodox, I’ve heard you say that you attribute most of what you’ve learned to U.C. Davis.

GL: I originally thought of becoming a Catholic priest. Instead I ended up studying chemistry at U.C. San Francisco, earned my degree in plant biology and chemistry, and started doing research in the U.C. system. My specialty was infectious diseases, particularly AIDS, but it became difficult for me emotionally. Finally I said, life’s too short, and much to the chagrin of my parents I went back to school to study analytical chemistry at U.C. Davis, and got my degree in winegrowing. That was in 1987.

RC: What did they call that degree at that time?

GL: My diploma read, Food Science and Technology. I actually stayed an extra year at Davis, working on-staff as a chemist, while continuing to take as many viticultural courses as I could. In fact, three years earlier I had already started working at Simi Winery, where Zelma Long was winemaker, Paul Hobbes was assistant winemaker, and Diane Kenworthy was the viticulturist – all great people to learn from. While attending Davis and working at Simi, I was primarily looking into the role of pectins and their uses as a possible marker for ripeness. Then after taking my degree at Davis I started working at Chalone with Dick Graff, who actually gave me 67 barrels for my research. Then I recruited John Kongsgaard, who was at Newton, to help me out as well.

RC: Sounds like a lot places to be at one time.

GL: No kidding – I was going crazy, driving all over the place. But what I really wanted to look at was the effects of Burgundian winemaking techniques, which I was able to do in three different places. Right about that time, in 1991, I met André Tchelistcheff at Beaulieu, who became probably the single biggest influence in my winegrowing career.

RC: How so?

GL: André was huge – an amazing man, so focused on wine, holding so much knowledge in his hand, which he would sort of take little bits out from his pocket, hold it forward in his hand for you to examine, or pick up to put into your own pocket. He would never force anything down your throat – most of the time he was more interested in listening to what I had to say. André also taught me things like, “never let winemaking ruin your personal life,” and “pay attention to your children” – which I never forgot.

Van der Kamp on Sonoma Mountain

RC: Aside from Tchelistcheff, who were your other key influences?

GL: Ralph Kunkee, Roger Boulton and Ann Noble were my three thesis professors at U.C. Davis, and they were influential in the way that I thought. Not so much what they tried to teach me, but how to investigate, how to ask questions. They gave me tools, not answers – how to problem-solve.

It was an incredible stroke of luck that I was able to work for André Tchelistcheff because he gave me the opportunity to put that approach to problem-solving to work, all the while encouraging me to go off on other projects – like starting up Yarra Ridge in Australia, and Jarvis in Napa Valley. I took those jobs, but kept boomeranging back to Beaulieu for the privilege of working with André, and doing exhaustive research for him, like 24 Pinot Noir clonal trials. Finally, in 1994, a job offer came up with Kendall-Jackson – to start up a new brand called Hartford Court, and to help resuscitate La Crema, André thought that this was going to be the next big thing, the wave of the future, and he encouraged me to go. So I started with the K-J properties, where I ended up carving out my own position as an in-house consultant/problem-solver, viticulturist/winemaker.

RC: This was right before your move to Flowers?

GL: In 1996 I was out in the Sonoma Coast during the harvest, walking through the rows ahead of the picking crew and flagging vines, because there was some real variability in that field. I looked across the canyon and saw another picking crew really having a hard time, and so after I was done I got into my car and drove on over – we were on a different ridge, so the drive took 45 minutes – hopped out and introduced myself to Joan and Walt Flowers, who had just recently planted their first 18 acres, and just starting to build their winery.

Walt looked at me and said, “who are you?” I told him I was Greg La Follete, and Joan said, “oh, you’re Greg La Follette – I just read your column last night about designing a winery for minimal cost and maximum quality output.” Long story short, they were looking for help. Their vineyard, frankly, wasn’t planted properly – in fact, a lot of their acreage had already slipped down the slope – and winery construction was running about a million dollars over budget. And so 5 weeks and about 10 interviews later, I started work for Joan and Walt, sat down with their winery design team to make the necessary changes, and got it completed by the following vintage. We came in several hundred thousand dollars under budget, and still improved the quality output.

RC: What was the appeal of Flowers to take you from away from that plum position at Kendall-Jackson?

GL: There weren’t a lot of vineyards in the area at the time. Hirsch was established across the way, and the Bohans were the first to plant out there, although they had planted Merlot which ripened only about two out of every three years. There were no wineries other than Flowers. We were planting some very cutting-edge clones and rootstocks, and we did some really cool vineyard engineering to deal with the high elevation, heavy rainfall and steep slopes.

It was a great place to be a pioneer, and a great place to raise children. Nick Peay was my cellarer for about two years, Luke Porter Bass was my cellarmaster, and I hired Hugh Chappelle as a day-to-day winemaker and Ross Cobb as a harvest enologiest. I helped out Linda and Lester Schwartz, who were planting out Fort Ross Vineyard next door, and of course, Marcassin and people like Ehren Jordan were doing some big things in the region as well. I think Flowers was a nucleus for a lot of things that were starting to blossom on the coast at that time.

RC: How did your experience at Flowers change your outlook on winegrowing?

GL: It didn’t. I already had just about all my thoughts and ideas in place well before I got to Flowers. At Flowers, though, I was able to fully implement them.

RC: Such as?

GL: It was kind of like new viticulture: using every part of every day in vines’ processing of their surroundings to make the most effective wine possible. Employing repartitioning carbohydrate strategy, which involves timing of leafing, not just leafing. Pruning strategy, appropriate modifications of the Guyot-Côte methods employed in Burgundy. Bringing that information into the winery and doing wild primary and secondary fermentations. Doing a lot of gentle nudging rather than bashing of wines. Open top fermenters, hand punching, going to barrel early and dirty, moderate use of oak rather than big, whacking heaps of oak. Letting yeast interact with barrel polyphenols to unleash flavor.

RC: Could you elaborate on your last point about yeasts?

GL: Yeasts are actually capable of bio-transforming barrel phenols and softening them. Prior research, at U.C. Davis, and during my time with André, had indicated that going to barrel early was very important for that. But of course, the work starts in the vineyard. One of the first things I did at Flowers was take the 18 acres they had planted – which was all cordon spur pruned, resulting in wines with very hard tannins – and do the Texas Chainsaw Massacre thing. We lopped off all the cordoned arms, and implemented a double Guyot modified cane system. Almost immediately tannin ripeness and fruit balance improved dramatically. In other parts of the property we went from meter x meter to 5 by 8 foot spacing, increased yields from 1 to over 3 tons per acre, and we improved quality significantly – something borne out by higher scores.

RC: So you were able to improve quality by increasing yields? That doesn’t sound right, especially for Pinot Noir.

GL: There is an old adage that says “low yield makes better wine,” but this is horse-puppy. Balanced vines make better wines. Sometimes lower yields can make worse wine. The earliest vintages of Flower Pinot Noir, for instance, were tannic monsters – their fruit is long gone. The key is putting the breaks on shoot tip growth and initiating carbohydrate repartitioning – encouraging vines to go from a vegetative stage to a reproductive stage, preferably at lower Brix. This is where you get earlier formation of color and flavor aromas. You get that by doing things like opening up canopies and getting earlier light penetration, not dropping leaves too early or too late, getting moderate leaf size, not too large and not too small.

At lower yields vines aren’t always interested in ripening tannins, so they make you wait for it – often at a higher Brix than what you want. Of course, for Pinot Noir it depends entirely upon the clone and site. While many clones perform better at lower tonnage, there are clones grown on a fertile site that actually need to be picked at higher tonnage to come into better balance.

RC: When you talk about this – achieving ripeness at lower Brix – it also sounds like a good way to address the issue of high alcohol, which has recently become a big topic, or bone of contention, in the press.

GL: Whether a wine is below 14% alcohol or above 14% alcohol is really not my focus, but I will say this – I haven’t used a refractometer in over 30 years. I learned long ago, working with Zelma Long, the right way to taste grapes – how to excoriate the seeds in your mouth to ascertain ripeness, and why you always pick for flavor. In 2010 my lowest picking was probably about 20° Brix, and my highest maybe about 24°. Among our current releases, we have wines under 14% alcohol, and wines over 14% alcohol.

I realize that sommeliers really are the first line of defense – they’re tasting wines, and deciding which wines people will experience – and they can probably decide for themselves whether or not a wine is balanced, whether a wine is good for the food they’re serving, or whether a wine is better off served by the glass like a cocktail.

But for winemakers, our job is to make wines of balance and harmony. This argument about whether wines should be lower or higher than 14% alcohol reminds me of the argument between a married couples having troubles, especially those with children. You know who always suffers the most from those arguments? The children. You know what suffers the most from this argument about wines having too much alcohol? The terroir. We let terroir fall through the cracks when we go back and forth on alcohol, and it’s terroir that really matters – at least for the wines that matter most to me.

Pinot Meunier in Van der Kamp Vineyard

RC: But doesn’t the high alcohol question call into question the wisdom of how California wine is grown?

GL: No question, with good farming practices you don’t have to wait forever – for higher sugars or dessication – in order to find balance. Regardless of where you’re growing or what you’re growing, intra-cellular machinery has to start well before veraison – you can actually start getting carbohydrate competition to effect berry cell division and berry cell expansion just after flowering. Less berry cell division means fewer cells per berry, which means smaller berries and more concentration. Less berry cell expansion means small cells per berry, which means smaller berries and more surface to volume ration, resulting in more concentration in the absence of excess sugar. If you’re not getting that, it probably means you need to re-examine what you’re doing in the vineyard. It also means you may have planted the wrong grapes in the wrong site.

What I’m more interesting in learning is the language of wine, which is nothing more than the language of vine physiology and yeast cell biology, and the more you learn those particular speeches the better you can speak to those needs.

RC: At a conference in Santa Cruz, I once heard you talk about yeast cell biology in terms of wild fermentation and nutrient deprivation. How is that consistent with what you learned at U.C. Davis?

GL: One of the first things you learn at U.C. Davis is that Saccharomyces can produce aromatic molecules – for instance, one that produces the beautiful smell of rose petals. But the only way yeasts are able to do this is if they first exhaust their nitrogen sources. The first thing they eat is ammonia, and then they start on amino acids, preferentially. The first amino acid they eat is analine, and the last amino acid they eat is phenylanaline. And so yeasts chop off the phenyl group to get to the analine portion, and basically substitute the remaining benzene ring, or molecules, for 4-ethyl phenethanol – and voila, the smell of rose petals.

What you learn from this kind of winemaking is, “wow, you can push the dragon’s tail and get some really cool aromas and flavors.” This is why it’s not such a good idea to add a bunch of yeast nutrients or to inoculate prophylactically. Wild ferments can take forever, and often require prayer and occasional interventions. But the advantage is their stress responders. Think of yeast cells as being like athletes – you train them by making them run, not by feeding them bonbons. When the yeasts start to tire, molecular walls start to crumble, and they begin to build macro-molecules that give wines more structure, like steel girders. You also get more attractive mouthfeels, and complex aromas, like the smell of rose petals or roasted meats.

RC: But isn’t it true that at U.C. Davis winemakers are discouraged from employing wild fermentation?

GL: Davis doesn’t really teach you answers – they teach tools of investigation. They tell you about the good and the bad stuff, wild ferments vs. inoculated ferments, where you can go wrong and where you can go right. Make no mistake – wild fermentation is not practicing safe winemaking, but it can produce more interesting and unusual wine. Wines I call enigmatic, which speak to a sense of place, rather than simple varietal character.

RC: When you say “sense of place,” aren’t you talking more about following the French, and specifically Burgundian, traditions, as opposed to the science of U.C. Davis?

GL: I certainly investigated Burgundian techniques very thoroughly, but my idea was to find out how these things work, not necessarily to follow them. Once you find out how, you can improve upon it. One of the things you discover is that some Burgundian techniques work, but for reasons that are the opposite of what they say. A good example is the practices of sur lie and bâtonnage, the stirring of lees, and the idea that this reduces the amount of tannin in wine. It is true that these practices result in a better mouthfeel, but the opposite is true when it comes to tannins – you actually increase tannins by practicing sur lie.

In my own research I’ve found that the absorption of tannin into proteins happens very quickly following primary fermentation, but if you sweep away the lees you’re sweeping away a big pool of tannins. If you allow lees to remain in contact, there is a slow re-release of tannins back into the wine, along with macro-molecules that are also enriching the wine and bathing over those tannins. The result is a taking away of the aggressiveness of those tannins. So instead of feeling those tannins like a big punch, you’re masking those tannins by grabbing them, and putting more fatness and richness into the mid-palate, and extending that feel into the late palate.

RC: Does this also explain the more consistent longevity of Burgundian wines, compared to most New World wines?

GL: You got it. About a couple weeks after primary fermentation, yeasts always begin to prepare to go into a deep space. So what they do is jettison all their intra-cellular material, all the guts that they don’t need for anything but going into deep sleep survival mode outside the presence of sugar, and a lot of those compounds are great anti-oxidants. That’s why you stir, and you add oxygen, and even encourage brown juicing – because the lees are able to absorb these compounds, resulting in much more interesting, profound and longer lived wines.

Lorenzo Vineyard, Spring 2011

RC: It seems to me, when I taste one of your Chardonnays or Pinot Noirs, there is invariably some kind of odd fragrance or unusual perfume not found in Chardonnays and Pinots from other producers – even those who espouse natural fermentations and work with other cold climate sites in the North Coast. What’s up with that?

GL: It’s no accident because I’m never focused on just primary fruit – I’m always looking for complexity. I think, for instance, that if you can combine the smell of mushrooms, or forest floor, rose petals or roasted venison, by favoring a cold loving yeast during early stages of fermentation, and if you have that yeast as an indigenous part of a particular vineyard, then what you are doing is opening yourself up to form a closer partnership with the land. You are digging out all the possibilities of the land, and you’re letting a vineyard speak in a voice or language it wants to speak in. I’ve always felt that it’s my job, my mission, to bring that voice forward. I’m not going impose anything, I’m going to remain quiet and listen, and really try to form a partnership in the same way I might partner with someone I love and respect. To me, this is a wilder, more satisfying approach to wine.

RC: Even if those aromas and flavors come out “weird?”

GL: Especially. Complexities inherent in a vineyard’s yeast population can be like an exotic flower, a rose petal, or a forest floor. It can be feral, often sauvage et animale. If you can find that fine seam of tension that exists between the floral and the feral, and get it just right, I think you make a more transcendent wine – like the tension in the notes that build up in, say, Beethoven’s Pastoral Symphony.

RC: Yet in the past, you’ve often used the term “Euro-centric” to describe your wines.

GL: When I used that term, I meant relying less on oak and ultra-ripeness to make a meaningful wine. Relying on higher acidity, but a balanced acidity, and less focus on fruit, more focus on complexity. There was a time when it seemed like the highest scoring Chardonnays and Pinot Noirs were bigger, higher in alcohol, oakier, and jammier or more opulent in fruit, but that never seemed to keep many of our wines from scoring very high, or even finishing on top.

RC: Was this also a way of saying that your wines are less “manipulated?”

GL: It’s mostly about practicing good vineyard husbandry, but I never felt that we were that good when it comes to handling in the winery. So we watch our wines very closely – giving them a little nudge here, a little nudge there. We ferment in shallow tubs so that we can do hand punch-downs, because that’s more intimate, and because that’s how you can feel the heat and aromas coming out of the musts. We sample lees in our mouth, to see if they’re nice and creamy, sweet or stinky. We monitor our wines barrel by barrel, handling each one like separate lot. It’s like little children – you have to be there early on to diaper them, then you watch them stumble and fall as they get older, and you’re still watching them closely when you’re handing them the keys as they walk out the door.

RC: Back up a little and tell me what makes your fermentors unusual?

GL: We use halved stainless steel milk tanks, which range from one ton to six tons. As they get bigger, they get longer and broader, insuring that the cap stays within the human strength-range of punchdown ability, including a 114 pound teenage boy. A very important consideration in my sons’ training as young men who have the wherewithal to work hard and know what it all means.

RC: Now for the million dollar question – is it pronounced “La-FAH-lette,” or “LAH-Fol-lette?”

GL: My name is “La-FAH-lette,” but the brand is “LAH-Fol-LETTE.” We figured it’s easier to identify with the French pronunciation.

RC: Final question – if you could shuck it all away tomorrow, what would you be doing?

GL: Growing grapes, of course, in my own vineyard. But I think I’d like to try it with a horse and plow. When you plow the dirt yourself, you see everything, and every clod mean even more. Then again, I always liked horsing around!

LA FOLLETTE WINES’ CURRENT RELEASES

2009 La Follette, Sangiacomo Vineyard, Sonoma Coast Chardonnay ($30) – Cold, foggy coastal air funneled in a direct line through the Petaluma Gap to this cobbled, rocky, old riverbed site has consistently made for the nutrient starved wild yeast ferments favored by La Follette; engendering, in Chardonnays, flavor/aromas with as much minerality and toasted almond as intense apple, pineapple and lemon varietal fruit definitions, while slapping a viscous layer over snappy, sinewy, high acid texturing. Make no mistake, the profile is Californian, but definitely with an Old World raunch.

2008 La Follette, Lorenzo Vineyard, Russian River Valley Chardonnay ($38) – While not the coldest site in the La Follette book (that would be Du Nah in the nearby Sebastopol Hills, and Manchester Ridge on Mendocino Ridge), the clay soil, older vines and microbiology of the vineyard conspire to yield one of the slowest evolving Chardonnays grown in California. After three years, ‘the 08 remains tight, compact, steel rimmed – more like a wine coming right out of the shoot – although the viscous lemon and honey roasted nut qualities oozing out of a citrus center are clearly indicating a fleshing out into those lavish, creamy sensations for which Lorenzo is always known.

2008 La Follette, Manchester Ridge Vineyard, Mendocino Ridge Chardonnay ($48) – La Follette is fond of calling this “the new paradigm” of California Chardonnay,” and he kids you not: there are outward sensations of minerality that remind you of Chablis, although nothing in Chablis comes close to the flowery perfume – an almost Riesling-like exoticism – typifying Manchester Ridge. In fact, there is no Chardonnay based white in the world that has this; necessitating a rearranging of one’s comfort zone when addressing this particular animal. Terroir plays its part, and so does the Chardonnay clone 809 -- a sexy new variant of the Musqué clones, sans the millerandage (shot, or uneven sized, berries) – which composes a third of this bottling. The other two-thirds is vinified from Old Wente, a classic shot-berry Chardonnay Musqué favored up and down the coast. Ergo, it is clearly the high elevation, frigid, late ripening nature of the site itself that fashions the edgy, lean, tart edged yet ultra-fine, silken threaded qualities of this wine, bursting with the honeysuckle flower and citrus/lime driven fruit, just hinting at old fashioned butterscotch beneath the stony veneer.

2009 La Follette, Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir ($30) – Pretty much a classic, voluptuous, sumptuously fruited North Coast style of pinot, but with earthy, forest floor, almost soy-like nuances that whisper into the ear like a salacious, husky voiced harlot. The chubby, young fruit mixes red and black berries with a touch of cola, its lacy sweetness barely hiding sharp, bony tannin.

2009 La Follette, Sangiacomo Vineyard, Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir ($40) – In the Sangiacomo Pinot Noir, the feral aspects of this vineyard’s microbiology infuses the varietal’s fragrant raspberry and exotic tea spices with nuanced rose petal and sensations of roasting meat. Smoke of oak piles on to the complexity, and the feel is sensual in its silkiness, young tannins poking through like sharp elbows, thickening the wild, earth toned fruit.

2009 La Follette, DuNah Vineyard, Russian River Valley Pinot Noir ($40) – Here, luscious strawberry preserve perfumes are underlined by pungent organic notes consistent with this site, suggesting rubber boots trudging through crumbling leaves and damp earth. On the palate, the earth toned flavors is dense, meaty, yet sweet with the vibrant red berry qualities.

2008 La Follette, Van der Kamp Vineyard, Sonoma Mountain Pinot Noir ($40) – The La Follette penchant for tertiary extraction – in this case, leather, mushrooms, forest floor – kicks up a notch in the Van der Kamps; the ‘08, girded by the site’s typical, muscular mountain tannin, and a varietal profile that is less floral, more fruit focused, tinged with a sweet peppermint, leafy herb spice. The feel is dense, savory, fullsome; tannins coming across with clove-like, almost malty thickness.

2008 La Follette, Manchester Ridge Vineyard, Mendocino Ridge Pinot Noir ($50) – Early studies of Manchester Ridge done by La Follette for U.C. Davis revealed the presence of more polymerizable phenols in its fruit than in any site he’s ever examined; a phenomenon certainly borne out in the ’08: by far, the most animale of the La Follette cuvées – the essence of the sweet, slightly soured scent of the inside of a woman’s leather glove that Tchelistcheff often spoke of – combined with the oak to give charred meat sensations, suffused by ultra-rich, ringing, berry liqueur quality of the varietal. On the palate, the luxuriousness takes on sensual textures, like chocolate melting on strawberries, all but making you forget what a unique, or strange, fruit of a pinot this really is.

Rick DuNah in DuNah Vineyard

TAPAS wines defy convention...

2011-06-07T22:32:00.008-06:00

At the TAPAS Grand Tasting in the City by the Bay

What's the buzz...
Tell me what's a-happening?
- Rice & Webber

First, just the facts, ma’am:

Over 1,900 wine and food lovers attended the TAPAS (Tempranillo Advocates Producers & Amigos Society) Grand Wine Tasting in San Francisco’s Fort Mason this past Saturday, June 4; making this the third year in a row that attendance to this once modest affair has doubled.

Out of that 1,900+, some 75% of those attendees were clearly younger than 35, giving the organization’s wineries (about 80 of them), growers and card holding “amigos” (another 30+) a strong idea of where their pan is currently being buttered.

... and as we all know, when it comes to fashion, food and wine, very often the other consumer segments follow the younger crowd. It often takes the older folks a little longer to catch on to a good thing like this: the appreciation of wines and foods associated with grapes of Spanish and Portuguese traditions.

Second, your come-to-Jesus caveat: these wines do not lend themselves to the same ol’ qualitative assessments to which mommy and daddy, gramps and granny used to subscribe, and blindly follow. You cannot put a number like “95” or “85” on, say, the 2007 Abacela Umpqua Valley Estate Tempranillo – grown, as it were, by TAPAS founder Earl Jones in the rolling hills of Southern Oregon – as dark, buoyant, concentrated, fraise-like, fleshy or wild beasty a red wine as you may perceive it to be.

Abacela proprietors, Earl & Hilda Jones

Fact of the matter is, an Abacela Tempranillo knows no stinking numbers when you actually drink it the right way, with something like herb roasted leg of lamb. a whole pig, or grilled, pungent portobellos or eggplant. It’s when you experience such wines in culinary context that meaty flavors and complexities your senses have no way of detecting when tasting the wine on its own suddenly emerge and knock you upside the chin, and then you are visited by this epiphany: wines crafted from Spanish and Portuguese grapes cannot, should not, and absolutely will not be pinned down by concepts as odiferous as 100 point scores, as well meaning as people who dole them out may be.

Judging from the crowd at the TAPAS tasting in San Francisco, we think this “new” way (actually an old way, since wine historically evolved within culinary cultures) of appreciating wine may finally be sinking in: people there for an experience of good wines, not to make judgements, or to rush home afterwards and tear out those dreary magazines or dive into online reviews droning mindlessly on with “ratings” as if good drinking wines were appliances awaiting their Good Housekeeping seals of approval...

That is... hey, teacher, leave those TAPAS producers alone!

This off our chests, let’s talk about a few things that went down in San Francisco, particularly in terms of Lodi grown grapes, since this American Viticultural Area has recently emerged as the largest and most serious source of these Iberian grapes, whether vinified by local producers like Bokisch Vineyards or Alta Mesa Cellars, or produced and bottled outside the region by wineries like Fenestra Winery in Livermore Valley, Quinta Cruz Wines in Santa Cruz, or Odisea Wine Company in Murphys, Calaveras County.

Savoy's halibut pineapple seviche with Harney Lane Albarino

Perhaps it was meant to be: that Lodi’s Harney Lane Winery happened to positioned right next to the table manned by Oakland’s Savoy Events, where chef/owner Mica Talmor Gott was dishing out a halibut pineapple seviche, tinged with the fresh licorice flavor of tarragon, pungent cilantro, and mildly green-spiced notes of chopped poblano, on oven crisped, red spiced tortilla chips and topped with milky, bouncy queso blanco fresco.

The funnest foods, of course, are balanced by exhilarating sensations exactly like that, and the match with the 2010 Harney Lane Lodi Albariño – a steely dry white wine of lemony and mineral-toned dexterities offset by flowery fresh perfumes – not only made you want to grab more of these seviche chips and throw them in your mouth, it also made you wanna cry as if the intricacy of such simple, quiet yet effective sensations had suddenly eluded you all your pitiful life.

Another TAPAS Grand Tasting highlight was a cooking demo put on by chef/owner James Campbell Caruso of La Boca in Santa Fe, who put out a dish of calamari seared in Spanish olive oil and lemon juice, served with rice cooked with dabs of tinta calamar (black squid ink) and refreshing specks of chopped tomato. If there ever was an earthy seafood dish bursting with the smell and taste of the ocean, this was it; and it was these sensations that brought out an almost revelatory saline, and umami driven, side of the intrinsic minerality found in the grape of the varietal bottlings of both the lime and honeyed almond scented 2010 Bokisch Clements Hills-Lodi Albariño and the slightly fuller yet lemony crisp, honeysuckle and tropical fruit nuanced 2010 Abacela Umpqua Valley Albariño.

Countdown to ecstasy: Bokisch Albarino, Spanish olive oil & squid ink

Hammering the lesson home: these really are food wines, and as such, phenomenal in themselves, whether or not this is understood by members of the mainstream wine press who traditionally abhor wines, or winemaking, that even hint at culinary purposes.

But it was, after all, a very large and public tasting; and in that situation you walk a floor, jostle with a jovial crowd at the tables, and take your best shot at some kind of mnenomic discernment of the wine samples splashing in your glass. Luckily we have plenty of experience at that, and the fact that we actually write down notes. Some of the other high points of that day:

Alta Mesa/Silvaspoons' Ron Silva

2009 Alta Mesa, Alta Mesa-Lodi Verdelho – There were a number of outstanding Verdelhos shown; and out of all of them, this one grown by Ron Silva’s Silvaspoons Vineyard might have been the most palate slaking: its flowery perfumes – suggesting peach skin, lavender, lime and lemon verbena – levitated by citrusy acidity and a moderate, slinky body. That said, in a similar vein, the 2010 St. Amant Amador County Verdelho seemed just as sleek, suggesting sweet/tart pears as much as citrus. While even riper toned and fuller in feel, the 2009 Quinta Cruz Verdelho (also sourced from Silva’s Silvaspoons) had the lacy, leafy green, lemon verbena notes found in the Alta Mesa, along with the soft, nutty, mildly bitter taste suggesting Marcona Almonds.

2010 Jeremy, Lodi Albariño – Many say Albariño should be lighter and zestier than what has been produced for the most part on the West Coast; and unquestionably, the higher latitude length of days in Oregon’s Umpqua Valley and the Delta cooled terroirs of Lodi have a propensity to produce Albariños of somewhat lavish perfumes (although deliberate earlier and earlier picking have lightened recent vintages by Abacela and Bokisch quite significantly). But if for a more pristine, puristic, light and lively Albariño you pine, the Jeremy gives you that, with slivers of apricot and twists of lemon in lithe, limber sensations. Not too far off in a similar, light and unfettered vein, the 2010 Odisea Dream Clements Hills Albariño – grown by Markus Bokisch in his La Cerezas Vineyard – was tasting more starkly floral, with more of a green apple rather than lemony tartness.

2009 Odisea, Two Rows California Garnacha – Sourced primarily from Lodi’s Clements Hills AVA -- a vineyard farmed by Gregg Lewis, the proprietor/grower of Dancing Fox -- this red wine stood out for its blast of bright, red, strawberryish fruit, luscious in the nose and meaty in the mouth, even when tightening in the middle with firming tannin and chewing tobacco-like juiciness. Granted, the accessibility of this wine is somewhat mainstream (wine geeks or critics can easily grasp its “opulent” fruitiness); but in the vein of a good TAPAS style wine, its moderately scaled qualities would also make it “awesome” with food (we’re thinking simple gazpacho or rustic pan con tomate – toasted bread rubbed with garlic, chopped tomatoes, olive oil and rock salt).

2009 Odisea, Unusual Suspects – A blend of 50% Lodi old-vine Carignane, with Grenache (from Mendocino) and Tempranillo (from Lodi’s Lewis Vineyard), this fruit forward red is teeming with bright cherry aromas and flavors, soft and lush in the entry, solidifying into a smoky meatiness towards the finish. Think of this as like a cross-dressing Pinot Noir – it wants to be all pretty and perfumed, but the larynx is deepening and the shoulders too wide for the top – and as such, you can probably do things like stuff a steak with oysters, or simply rub it with olive oil, grill with cracked pepper, and lay it all out with thick slices of beefsteak tomato dressed in ribbons of basil and a variation of yellow Spanish rice.

2007 Fenestra, Silvaspoons Vineyards Lodi Touriga - Made from roughly equal parts Touriga Nacional and Touriga Francesa — the former known for making robust, full tannin reds, and the latter for lighter, more perfumed and finesseful reds — this is a generously black fruited red, dense and muscular down to the core, yet plummy, almost sweet toned around the edges. While fluid in fleshiness, the feel is beefy, and the finish tinged by some coffee ground tannin. Definitely a carnivore’s red; yet different, more visceral, from that of, say, a Cabernet Sauvignon drinker’s red: you wanna to drench your meats with more olive oil or pungent Mediterranean herbs with a wine like this to bring out the slightly raisined, sun inflected notes, or utilize more aromatic aged cheeses made from sheep’s mile (Manchego or Pecorino) to coax out more earthen bass notes. However which way you do it, this is a wine sharpened by awareness of food, not a wine critic’s pen.

Harney Lane's Kyle Lerner with St. Amant's Stuart Spencer

2008 Harney Lane, Lodi Tempranillo – For all intents and purposes, the Tempranillo grape epitomizes the TAPAS culture, producing red wines of quality that might be hard to fathom by conventional standards, particularly if you have trouble weaning yourself off, say, grapes of French origin, which are generally easier to define in terms of “varietal” character. The Harney Lane is typical: it is full and it is savory; yet it is not big and feels soft in the middle. The nose suggests red fruit, but the mind isn’t identifying strawberry, cherry or raspberry in particular. The phenolics seem to give toothsome, faintly chewing tobacco-like sensations; but in the end, the taste is not unlike how winemaker Chad Joseph describes it: like a “chocolate brownie.” Finally, as mentioned earlier, this is a wine that changes on a dinner table: the textures becoming meaty, and the fruit qualities taking on feral, almost animal-like sensations that are absent in the initial perception, sans food.

Or can we just agree Harney Lane makes delicious Tempranillo? So does St. Amant, for that matter (the 2008 St. Amant The Road Less Travelled Amador County Tempranillo tasting particularly wild – like a snorting, black, musclebound bull – in San Francisco), as well as Bokisch Vineyards (a sensual 2008 Bokisch Liberty Oaks Vineyard Jahant-Lodi Tempranillo currently laced in black cherryish, somewhat strawberryish, or maybe blackberryish fruit tones... or is it nothing at all?).

Markus Bokisch workin' it at the TAPAS Grand Tasting

We could go on about other fine renderings shown by the TAPAS producers in the City by the Bay. Totally unprecedented wines like the startlingly dark, sinewy, teeth rattling 2008 Alta Mesa Cellars Alta Mesa-Lodi Tannat. Classically inspired wines like the sumptuously sweet, neverending 2007 Abacela Umpqua Valley Port (crafted from Touriga Nacional, Tinta Cão, Tinta Amarela, Bastardo and Tinta Roriz). Or wines coming seemingly from places unbenownst to the conventional world, like the St. Amant Amador County Tawny Port (an amazing yet strangely Madeira-like, blondie of a sweet fortified wine, regaling the senses with a head shaking storm of vanilla extract, raw honey, preserved lemon, crème caramel and orange peels punctured by cloves).

But let us just give thanks to these intrepid oenological pioneers, embrace their thought process, and celebrate their success!

Chains at San Francisco's Fort Mason

Syrahs in a season of discontent

2011-05-09T00:43:00.015-06:00

Another outstanding Hospice du Rhône – America's premier Rhône style wine festival, taking place each spring in Paso Robles, CA – has come and gone this past April 28-30, and thus another good reason to stop and assess the progress of the quintessential Rhône style red: those made from the syrah grape.

First things first: there were some startling beauties at this year’s HdR. The 2007 as well as the 2008 Jonata La Sangre de Jonata Santa Ynez Valley Syrah, for instance, seemed larger than life, swollen with perfumed, raspberry liqueur-like syrah concentration; the ’07 tinged by wild scrubby and toasty components, and the ’08 even more specific with roasting meats (what many call “bacon”), wild thyme intensities.

On a seemingly opposite end of the scale, the 2008 Baker Lane Sonoma Coast Estate Syrah was velvety smooth and finesseful – for all the world, pinot noirish in gentility (is this a compliment or insult?) – despite carrying 14.2% alcohol weight; flashing piercing violet perfumes and earthy undertones suggesting sprigs of rosemary and browning forest leaves. The 2009 Baker Lane Sonoma Coast Estate Syrah was even prettier – shrouded in lacy silk and flowery fragrances, yet crisply centered, with roasted meat/animal qualities that made you blink and think “Crozes-Hermitage."

A barrel sample of the Biodynamic® grown 2009 Qupe Sawyer Lindquist Vineyard Edna Valley Syrah echoed the ’09 Baker Lane’s silk and lissomeness, with achingly ardorous perfumes of violet, licorice and winter savory. The roasted, chocolaty, coffee-spiced 2008 Stolpman Originals Estate Santa Ynez Valley Syrah and framboise-like 2008 Stolpman Hilltop Estate Santa Ynez Valley Syrah echoed the Jonatas in enormity – sensuous flesh draped over musclebound bodies – and gravity defying sense of scale.

Epoch winemaker Jordan Fiorentini

Then there was an obscenely opulent 2008 Justin Paso Robles Savant (cassis-like syrah amplified by 22% cabernet sauvignon); a barrel sample of blustery, fisticuffing, French sausage-spiced 2009 Red Car Sonoma Coast Estate Syrah; a wild scrubbish, smoky, compellingly lavender/violet/cassis scented 2007 Halter Ranch Block 22 Paso Robles Syrah; an unrepentantly black, concentrated, pumped pectoraled 2008 Epoch Paderewski Vineyard Block B Paso Robles Syrah; and a powerfully pungent, beefy and black cherryish 2009 Jaffurs Larner Vineyard Santa Barbara Syrah. All these wines, among numerous others, underlining the point in defiance of oft-heard criticisms: American syrahs are heckagood, even great, by any standard of the grape, past or present.

For as serious a wine syrah can obviously produce – most wine cognoscenti would rank it with cabernet sauvignon, pinot noir, chardonnay and riesling among the five most important Vitis vinifera cultivated around the world – the grape has been much maligned during the past year or two by, well, that very same cognoscenti, for various reasons of discontent, depending upon the pundit:

• They say that syrah is grown in too many of the wrong places outside the Northern Rhône Valley; especially in parts of California and Australia where warm climates yield wines of overripe flavor, excessive alcohol, or both.

• They say American consumers, in particular, have not responded to the growing number of syrahs on the market either because they are “confused” by a plethora of styles or simply because they are disappointed by the overall quality (re the aforementioned reason).

• More seasoned market observers are saying that the dearth of syrah sales (entailing American, Australian as well as French produced wines) has more to do with the age-old issue of supply exceeding demand, exacerbated by the recent international economic woes and glut of wines, made from any and all grape varieties, in general.

One thing we do know: truly good, to great, syrah costs as much or more to grow and vinify as truly good to great cabernet sauvignon, pinot noir, chardonnay and riesling; and if anything, in recent years the majority of consumers haven’t exactly been in the mood to spring for $25 to $50-plus bottles of new or unproven brands or varietals. For $8 to, say, $18 bottles of new or unproven brands or varietals: yes, they’ve been more than willing to take the plunge. But as mind blowing as a $100 Jonata may be, we know this is a far less palatable proposition for the everyday Joe or Aunt Gladys than, say, a big, luscious, Lodi grown Brazin Zinfandel or !ZaZin – 14.5% alcohol and all, culled from 40 to 100 year old vines yet retailing for less than $20.

Hilary Clarke (left) of Harrison-Clarke Vineyard (grenache & syrahs to die for) at 2011 HdR

Insofar as the premise that consumers are confused by variations of syrah styles: that seems implausible, since syrah as a wine varies no more – and in fact, considerably less – than varietal wines of perennial popularity, like chardonnay, cabernet sauvignon, and zinfandel. Consumers aren’t that dumb.

Is the perceived indifference due to the facts that many syrahs are overripe, too high in alcohol, or just not very good? The problem with those assumptions: whether moderate or high in alcohol, sweetly fruited or moderately fruited, the quality of syrahs grown outside the Northern Rhône continues to rise rather than falter – as you would expect in a situation where producers continuously improve in skill and experience – and anyone who says otherwise probably has a hole in the head rather than a palate. In any case, refined, multi-faceted syrahs like the '08 Baker Lane make a mockery of the current preoccupation with alcohol: surely, one of the dumbest non-issues going down today.

As a matter of fact, the 2011 Hospice du Rhône was also a great opportunity to compare French grown syrahs with American ones, as there were over 90 producers or importers representing the Rhône (Northern and Southern) pouring alongside some 130 American producers. What true blue syrah lover doesn’t enjoy a good Cornas? No doubt, HdR traditionalists enjoyed the earthy, brothy, pungently gamey 2008 Clape Renaissance Cornas, whereas I was duly impressed by the less fecal-like, flinty, muscular, marvelously compact and black pepper inundated 2007 Alain Voge Les Vieilles Vignes Cornas.

Clos Selene's Selene & Guillaume Fabre

But honestly: could anyone with half a working nose and palate really step back and say that what we are tasting from France these days is still truly head and shoulders “better” or “preferable” to one of now many American grown syrahs of reasonable quality – like the precise and peppery spiced 2006 Alban Reva Alban Estate Edna Valley Syrah, the decidedly rambunctious, deep, ponderous 2009 McPrice Myers Les Galets Arroyo Grande Valley Syrah, or the dramatically high toned, framboise and licorice laced 2009 Clos Selene Hommage à nos Pairs Paso Robles Syrah? I’m sorry, but I don’t think so.

On the other hand, one interesting observation made by a Frenchman – Michel Gassier of Château de Nages in Costières de Nîmes (where blends of grenache, carignane, mourvèdre and syrah rule the roost) – in a HdR seminar sponsored by the trade council, Côtes du Rhônes Wines, was that young vignerons tend to “start off with a primal scream... you want to produce wines that are too ripe and too extracted, and you think too much of a good thing is a good thing.” Only when a winegrower matures does he begin to understand terroir – “accepting some truths that cannot be explained” – until he reaches a third stage, what Gassier calls “an age of reason... when you view things holistically and are more open to change, and finally begin to make wines from grapes grown in harmony and balance with the environment.”

That final phase, according to Gassier, often entails the embracing of organic or Biodynamic® practices, although this is less important than simply developing a thought process engendering wines of more “soul,” reflecting a “a partnership of terroir and winemaker.”

Gassier’s comments became all the more insightful during the HdR seminar following immediately after, called Find Your Mojo, showcasing the syrahs of two American brands of some prestige (especially among the 100 point score circuit), Santa Barbara’s Tensely Wines and Sonoma’s Bedrock Wine Co.: syrahs, as it were, that generally seemed over-extracted, obsessively black and heavy, tilted more towards ultra-ripe fruit and sweet spices derived from oak as opposed to subtleties of texture and varietal character. That is to say: not all the American wines at HdR were impressive in comparison to the French. To a large extent, there is still a lot of immature winemaking going on in the U.S.

Tardieu-Laurent's Bastien Tardieu

The following week in San Francisco, I had a conversation with Bastien Tardieu, the 27 year old son of Michel Tardieu of Tardieu-Laurent, one of the Rhône Valley’s more acclaimed négociants. Having completed his Master’s of Oenology and Viticulture in Montpellier not too long ago, you would think Tardieu to be yet another vintner going through his phase of “primal screaming,” but in fact, wines like the exceedingly elegant, violet and wild mint scented 2007 Tardieu-Laurent Cornas and the only slightly rustique, fleshy yet fragrant and multi-faceted 2008 Tardieu-Laurent Vieilles Vignes Gigondas (grenache with 15% syrah) give a decidedly opposite impression: winegrowing far more obsessed with interplay of man, grape and terroir, rather than extraction or the almighty 100 point score.

When asked how effective it might be to grow syrah in warmer climates, like the Barossa Valley (he has worked at Torbreck), California, and the Southern Rhône Valley, Tardieu opined: “yes, you can grow syrah in warmer climates, but it is still a question of balance. I prefer syrah grown in the Northern Rhône where the climate is cooler because there you get a wine that is finer, with more violet, more licorice, and more minerals like silex – the taste of two stones scratching together. In places like Châteauneuf du Pape and the Barossa Valley, we can get the jammy taste that is common to warm regions, but we completely miss all the aromatic complexity we get in the Northern Rhône – the characteristics that make syrah syrah.”

I found Tardieu’s thoughts to be all the more intriguing because in between HdR and our meeting in San Francisco, I also sat for a Cold Climate Syrah Seminar taking place at Spring Hill Ranch, located in the middle of the Sonoma Coast’s Petaluma Gap. There, along with 40 sommeliers gathered from around the country, we tasted 8 syrahs grown in cooler sections of California’s North Coast; where syrah grapes picked closer to 22° rather than 25° Brix is a norm (resulting in potential alcohols closer to 12% rather than 15%).

Eric Sussman, Ehren Jordan & Carroll Kemp pouring syrahs for sommeliers

One of the presenters during this cold climate summit was Carroll Kemp, winemaker/partner of Red Car, whose Sonoma Coast syrah had wowed me a few days earlier in Paso Robles. According to Kemp, “the style of syrah popularized in previous years is the antithesis of the styles of syrahs now coming from marginal sites along the Sonoma Coast.” Failla’s Ehren Jordan added the point that “many people have a distorted view of syrah, especially from Northern Rhône. I found out fairly quickly, after moving there to work earlier in my career, that ‘roasted slope’ does not mean 90° or 100° temperatures like it does it California. It means more like 80° at the most, and I’m still wearing sweaters in the middle of the summer. If you pick at 21.5° Brix in Cornas, it’s the ‘vintage of the decade!’”

As it were, the unanimous favorite among the sommeliers seemed to be Jordan’s 2009 Failla Sonoma Coast Estate Syrah – hugely, lusciously concentrated with wild blackberry and exotic tea spices and undertones of wild scrubby herbs, yet as lithe and compact as a Nadia Comaneci. Also in this limber, un-Sprockets style: the 2008 Wind Gap Sonoma Coast Syrah portrays the flowery side of the grape, with a cassis-like silkiness and suggestions of caramelized game and blueberry; and the 2008 Arnot-Roberts Clary Ranch Sonoma Coast Syrah is super spiced and perfumed, with mildly feral and sandalwood spice nuances.

Failla's Ehren Jordan

In this tasting in Sonoma, winemaker Stephen Singer reprised his finely balanced 2008 Baker Lane Sonoma Coast Estate Syrah, with its densely sweet concentration of violet, black/red berry fruit, and, earthy, brushy undertones, hinting at the sauvage typical of wines resulting from wild yeast ferments fostered in cool climate microbiology. There was also extravagantly spiced (cracked pepper, sandalwood, evergreen), if somewhat toasted oak lavished, 2007 Ramey Rodgers Creek Sonoma Coast Syrah; and Eric Sussman showed off his woodsy, tightly wound, savory 2007 Radio-Coteau Camp Cherry Sonoma Coast Syrah.

Ah, but is this the future of American syrah? Personally, I would withhold judgement; especially if you have yet to encounter some of the more fascinating growths of Southern Oregon; like the elegantly scaled, sweetly violet scented 2008 Cowhorn Reserve Applegate Valley Syrah (also Biodynamic® certified). Or better yet: the flowery, raspberry, flint, lavender and rosemary scented 2009 Quady North Steelhead Run Applegate Valley Syrah, draped in swaths of velvet; or the grandly full, judiciously savage and purple mountained 2008 RoxyAnn Rogue Valley Syrah.

The experience of grandly rendered syrahs is not nearly as rare as you may think, and exhilarating examples are being grown in new and different ways outside the Rhône Valley. As to which are the most legitimate: it’s become clearer by the day that saying Sonoma Coast or Southern Oregon grow syrahs of greater validity than Paso Robles or Santa Barbara is as foolish as saying the only great Northern Rhônes are those of Côte-Rôtie and Hermitage and not Cornas, Crozes-Hermitage or Saint-Joseph.

The sooner the better, when we can all learn to appreciate terroir related qualities; not ones differentiated by artifice or concepts as inane or useless as numerical scores.

Cowboy at Paso Robles fairgrounds

As the pinot world turns

2011-03-07T22:10:00.010-07:00

Finer American pinot noirs than ever dominate the 11th Annual World of Pinot Noir in Shell Beach...

March 4-5, 2011 – There were significantly more, and finer, pinot noirs than ever from the West Coast shown at 2011’s World of Pinot Noir. If anyone tells you differently? Tell them to take a hike...

The world of pinot, in other words, is spinning faster and faster. Two immediate observations:

The idea of “typically over-oaked” American pinot world is now, officially, a a thing of the past. Tasting through the ’06s to ’09s shown at WOPN, qualities of fruit focus and natural acidity now predominate across the board, with toasty or smoky nuances pretty much pushed into backdrops. It was especially pleasing to find wineries hitherto associated with oaky styles now pretty much on the same bandwagon.

There’s been a lot of talk recently of the “high alcohol problem" of American pinot noirs (the sheening of American pinots?). Sure, recent warm or “ripe” vintages have given everyone cause for alarm, but the 2011 WOPN conclusively demonstrated that the concern is probably over-hyped. Even after tasting over 100 pinots on each day, I can count on one hand the number of times my palate felt raked by a wine striking me as hot, awkward, or pent-up with rampant alcohol or raisiny fruit. Conclusion: neither California nor Oregon pinot specialists are as deaf or dumb as some have been making them out to be. If anything, it’s amazing how finesseful their touch has become, considering the endlessly challenging circumstances making each vintage an adventure (be it rains or drying heat in Oregon, or fire or ice along the Californian coast).

Speaking of which: yes, there was a good slew of 14% to 15% alcohol pinots in the mix. So what? If you are a ROAR from Gary’s Vineyard or Belle Glos Las Alturas from Santa Lucia Highlands, a Chasseur or De Loach from Russian River Valley, a Melville from Sta. Rita Hills or even a Bergström from Willamette Valley, things are bound to get a little “big” when fruit is hitting on all cylinders. But that doesn’t keep producers like these from fashioning perfectly lush, round, tight and cohesive pinot noirs; wines that are as well balanced, or more finely balanced, as most pinot noirs falling in the sub-14% alcohol range. It ain’t the meat it’s the motion, my friends, when it comes to successful pinot.

Meaning: never, never choose your pinot by percentages you might read on a label. Pay more attention to the skill of the winemaker, or the reputation of that brand (providing that rep doesn’t come from shrill reviewers who use numbers and tend to describe wines as “opulent” or “hedonistic” – writers who can’t tell an alcoholic, and neither a good or bad, pinot noir from the side of a barn). Either way, if you buy by numbers you’re only depriving yourself of possible pleasures. Don’t even believe anything I tell you: tasting is always believing.

Finally, as always, when it comes to good pinot noir it’s more a matter of style and terroir – the latter variable, a pervasive sense of where a pinot comes perceived through the sensations themselves – when it comes to exploring this ever expanding world of pinot. For instance, I may prefer a seamlessly knit, silken, perfumed and earth toned Keefer Ranch pinot noir from Green Valley by the likes of a trusty vintner like Failla or Freeman, over a dark, chunky Pisoni grown pinot from Santa Lucia Highlands or a brawny and intense Sea Smoke from Santa Barbara. But I’d be dead wrong if I said a Keefer produces a more valid style of pinot noir than any grown by Pisoni or Sea Smoke. Pinots by such high quality producerss are never “better” than each other: they’re just different, especially in respect to terroir; and anyone who tells you otherwise… well, you know where to tell them to go.

Enough dickering – in order of my favorites:

2009 Landmark, Spring Hill (Sonoma Coast, California) – You always gotta rank the most “oh-wow” wine first, don’t you? This was oh-wow because it’s this winery’s first-ever single vineyard bottling from this particular vineyard (located in the heart of the windswept, decidedly cold climate Petaluma Gap) – so newness is a factor here, folks – and because more than any other pinot tasted at WOPN this past weekend, a strawberry-fields-forever varietal fruitiness seemed to burst through velvet textured layers, energized by a vibrant core of zingy acidity and finely flushed tannin. A sheer richness lends a full feel, while sensations remaining fresh, immaculate, primal, electric; while charging discreetly through an obscenely long finish.

Spring Hill, in the rolling hills of Sonoma's Petaluma Gap

2009 Failla, Keefer Ranch (Russian River Valley, California) – Sweetly intense harmony of Christmasy fragrances – steeping plums, wild cherries, smoke tinged brown spices – tacked on to a lithe, flowing, bright and energetic body of components, arranged in pinpoint fashion. Yes, I may be a bit of a wuss, going for this balletic style, but at least it’s not a wine that invites incessant harping about technique, alcohol or oak – everything adroitly, almost prenaturally, knit, and just… there.

2008 Failla, Occidental Ridge (Sonoma Coast, California) – When I tasted this Failla cuvée, I thought, “okay, this is just getting silly – why does simple deliciousness come so easily for this brand? Does it really matter? Intoxicating perfume – huge strawberry nose tinged with multiple baking pie spices – essaying forth on the palate in lively, luscious, finesseful flavors that never seem to end, despite a rock of solid tannin tightening the center.

2009 Failla, Pearlessence (Sonoma Coast, California) – From a vineyard in the Sebastopol Hills – the southernmost, and coolest, section of the Russian River Valley – Pearlessence enters softly, with a bouquet of red roses and strawberry alarm tingling the nose; and just as obligingly steps on the gas in the mid-palate, enveloping the senses with zesty, long, lovely, scrumptious red fruit flavors riding on fine boned tannin beneath a sheer, silken veneer.

2009 Freeman, Akiko’s Cuvée (Sonoma Coast, California) – This is co-proprietor Akiko Freeman’s yearly barrel selection of the spiciest, silkiest cuvées from among the winery’s best cold climate sites (largely in the hills west of Occidental on the western edge of the Russian River Valley AVA, with choice bites from Sebastopol Hills further south). A violet-red transparency signals a host of flowery, lacy perfumes suggesting black cherry and strawberry. Slender, lush, silken, spiced berry sensations come with an almost dancing sense of delicacy and ebullience. As that Leonard Cohen song goes, hallelujah...

2008 La Follette, Sangiacomo Vineyard (Sonoma Coast) – In vintages past, pinots from this vineyard – located at the base of Sonoma Mountain in the Petaluma Gap where fog collects and creates a refrigerator effect on a daily basis during peak ripening seasons – have consistently retained both an exotic, sweet spice (often suggesting tropical flowers and/or ginger) and wild, earthy sensations (winemaker/partner Greg la Follette has always described the latter as “feral”) most unusual, to say the least, in pinot noir grown anywhere (Old World, New World, maybe the next world...). In 2008 the exotica is there – the nostril penetrating, flowery perfume mingling with smoky spices – while the earth tones are not so much feral as faintly organic, more along the lines of composting loam and crushed brown leaves in autumn. Love it or leave it, folks. But if this floats your boat, you’ll like how the ultra-rich and earthy sensations also run rampant through the palate – lively, twisting, enervating for the weak, energizing for the terroirists – sliding beneath a blanket of silk from one side of the mouth to the other. As the Man once put it, are you experienced?

2008 Littorai, The Pivot Vineyard (Sonoma Coast, California) – The nose here is tight and youthfully concentrated – compellingly sweet preserves of black plum and strawberry – yet as soon as the wine hits the palate, the aromatically tight fruit profile becomes large and resplendent, forming a thick, proportionate wave of velvet flavors, tinged by smoky oak, rocking and rolling through the rye with all the grace and contradictory sensuality those phenomenally few pinots seem to achieve.

2008 Alma Rosa, La Encantada (Sta. Rita Hills, California) – Sometimes a pinot is so pretty, so honest and pristine, you just want to cry. Especially with the Richard Sanford’s La Encantada, which seems to address you without pretension or artifice – just hugely intense, bare naked, knockdown pinot noir fruit expression: baskets of cherries, strawberry preserves, dark cocoa and cinnamon spices, and a silky, sensuously textured sense of finesse and femininity. Although less might be more, what “little” there is here is a helluva more than in the vast majority of American pinots.

2008 Suacci Carciere (Russian River Valley, California) – From one of the coolest sites in Sebastopol Hills – on a fog choked slope in Blucher Valley with natural Frigidaire funneled directly up from the adjacent Petaluma Gap – this is a beautifully fragrant pinot noir, mixing raspberry, strawberry, smoky brown spices and scrubby earth nuances in the nose, followed up by luscious, fluid, juicy flavors couched in a zesty, sexy, curvaceous body. Think Sophia Loren in leather – inconceivable.

Siduri's Adam Lee

2008 Siduri, Keefer Ranch (Russian River Valley, California) – Through the years Adam and Dianna Lee’s minimalist, yet never shyly oaked, approach to pinot noir vinification has grown in consistency, and now reach high points with special vineyards like Keefer. The ’08 is a doozy: smoky, red berry and cherry cola fruit aromas underlined by tinges of evergreen; and on the palate, even more impressively, a super-dense, concentrated, almost syrupy thick richness of fruit, punctuated by the smoky oak (perfectly appropriate here!), brightening acidity, and a core of solid, rounded tannin.

2009 Freeman, Keefer Ranch (Russian River Valley, California) – Keefer also seems to rule in ’09 (Failla’s being drop-dead gorgeous), and in the hands of proprietor Ken Freeman and his winemakers (Ed Kurtzman and Eric Buffington), the aromatic notes are floral and pretty, dripping with sticky red berries, while the palate feel is compressed yet dense in concentrated red pinot fruitfulness; zapping the palate with intermittent swaths of sweet berries, in between the prickles of acidity and belt tightening tannin. Hang on, because this one seems to be in it for the long term.

2007 Hartford Family, Land’s Edge (Sonoma Coast, California) – Sourced primarily from the winery’s plantings around the hamlet of Annapolis at the north end of the extreme Sonoma Coast, where a climatic marginality is likely to yield fine boned pinots of pungent perfume and distinctly earth toned, woodsy/forest floor complexities. All these qualities hold sway in this bottling: plummy, black and red berry perfumes infused in the woodsy aromatics and enhanced by judiciously smoked oak. It’s on the palate, though, that the wine really starts to rattle and hum, and where the delineations become enlightening: the woodsy, perfumed fruit flavors seeming to expand and seep through every pore until the feel becomes full, fleshy, juicy, unbelievably rich, with nary a nick or bruise. Having tasted this vintage and bottling a couple of times before (finding it “very nice”), I was almost shocked by the evolution of these sensations – a vinous equivalent to a Nicollette Sheridan dropping-of-the-towel – which goes to show, as Chuck Berry once said, you never can tell.

2008 De Loach, OFS (Russian River Valley, California) – Almost quietly, De Loach has stepped up its pinot program to the point where it no longer takes a backseat to any in this vaunted region – thanks to the full court pressing of the Boisset family, and the notably dramatic growth of winemaker Brian Maloney. There’s transparency in both the ruby red color and the upbeat, high toned, multifaceted red fruit concentration in the nose of this wine – screaming a fragrant, effusive purity of pinotness – coming together in a viscous, dense and velvety palate feel, revved up by zesty acidity, with medium strength tannins forming a sturdy, if totally unobtrusive, core of strength.

2008 Bergström, Bergström Vineyard, Dundee Hills (Willamette Valley, Oregon) – Oregonian participation in WOPN is usually relegated to a chosen few, but those few were chosen well enough to provide shed some illuminating contrast and similarity in comparison to the far more numerous California entries. Whereas the better California pinots are still unabashedly fruit forward with lower volumes of flower related aromas, the finer Oregon pinots are more floral with quieter intensities of fruit related aromas. Generalizations, of course, but certainly true in respect to this particular bottling of Bergström: lacy, lilting, fragrant red berry perfumes tinged by earth tones that are more dirt and evergreen than decaying scrub or forest floor, and minus the drippy sweet fruit tones prevalent in, say, the better North Coast pinots. On a ponderous, medium-full palate, there are youthful indescretions: a steely acid bite and tight, strapping tannin all but concealing a show of leggy, bright, red berryish pinotness, and contributing to an overall feel of precision and promise. It is no wonder Oregon winemakers, to a person, are now strongly urging their followers to embrace the softer, more exuberant ‘09s, or else the comely, feminine ‘07s, rather than dive straight into the ‘08s, which will undoubtedly prove more satisfying in the long run (i.e. in four to eight or ten years).

Stoller winemaker, Melissa Burr

2007 Stoller, SV Estate, Dundee Hills (Willamette Valley, Oregon) – If there is any question that the ‘07s from Willamette Valley have been transitioning into sleek, sultry, intoxicating pinots – pinot noir for adults, amused more by thoughtful grace and depth rather than youthful, gum chewing sass – this cuvée seals the deal: intriguing fragrances of wild red berries, still in attractively sweet primal stages, mixed with breathy earth tones suggesting loam and fallen leaves; manifested in soft, tender, lush, slinky qualities on the palate, firmed by moderate, rounded tannin, extending the multifaceted pinot qualities long and gently through a luscious finish.

2008 Flying Goat, Dierberg Vineyard (Santa Maria Valley, California) – Hugely attractive nose of strawberry preserves, teasing the senses, and smartly framed by rich, smoky oak. On the palate, more pay dirt: generous, fleshy, juicy pinot flavors strapped upon a sleek, toned musculature. Immensely satisfying case of how the best of California’s concentrated, fruit forward styles of pinot can possess all the finesse in the world, even while tipping the scales in volume of fruitiness.

2008 Talley, Rincon Vineyard (Arroyo Grande Valley, California) – There’s a tendency towards a fat fruitiness in pinots from Arroyo Grande Valley, but there’s always been a tauter, wilder, almost sauvage quality to Talley’s growth, consistently negating that sun kissed ripeness. The nose in the ’08 in floral and perfumed – raspberry, wild blackberry, and touches of cherry cola – but underlined by scrubby earth, smoke and clove-like spices. On the palate, the scrub and wild, sweet toned berry qualities take on juicy qualities, thickened by meaty tannin and brightened by energetic acidity. As good a pinot as ever from this celebrated estate.

2008 Evening Land Vineyards, Seven Springs Vineyard La Source, Eola-Amity Hills (Willamette Valley, Oregon) – Whereas, at this writing, most of the finer ‘08s from Oregon are spiny and reticent, La Source seems have been fashioned in a less austere style, teeming with pretty, sweet red berry and cassis perfumes, with smoky spices and burnt leafy earthiness in the nose; entering the palate in soft, gentle, hushed yet sweetly concentrated tones. There is a firm sense of youthful, coiled tannin packed into the center of a svelte, satiny, Twiggyish body, and enough concentration of the earth toned fruit to make for a long, sweet finish. Very stylish, very terroiristic.

2008 Evening Land Vineyards, Occidental (Sonoma Coast, California) – The instincts of this house is to underplay pinot noir fruitiness – or at the very least, contain a typical Californian ripeness into lower keyed structures – and so it’s the tension between that self-discipline and the actual lusciousness and masculinity of the fruit profile in this wine that makes this bottling so interesting. The nose is of sweet, juicy red fruit, juxtaposed with strangely attractive, deepening earth notes suggestive of either new leather gloves or rubber boots, depending upon stores in your memory bank. Then on the palate, the Occidental really rises and shines: outwardly soft, fleshy and inviting in the entry, becoming dense and sturdy with tannin in the middle, finishing with enough muscle to give the earthen red fruit qualities a broad feel and almost swarthy complexion.

2008 Costa de Oro, Dijon Selection (Santa Maria Valley, California) – Year after year, it seems, winemaker/proprietor Gary Burk seems to craft ridiculously good, and underrated, pinot noirs from his Gold Coast estate, at the coolest, westernmost end of the Santa Maria Valley AVA. The color here is an almost blue violet-red, giving fair warning of the oodles of luscious, fresh ripened fruit aromas, redolent of sweet strawberry; flavors of the same seeming to come in wave after wave, revved up by scintillating natural acidity on an absolutely plush, velvet textured medium-full body.

2008 Chasseur, Umino (Russian River Valley, California) – Umino is another Sebastopol Hills pinot planting, located at the north end of Blucher Valley, the coolest section of this sub-region. Strawberries and cherries are wild in this pungent nose, underlain by notes of new leather and brown leafy undertones. Aggressively full, rich and concentrated qualities on the palate – not much femininity here – but the feel is fleshy, seamless, velvety, satisfying; notwithstanding firming tannin and toasty oak edges protruding through the middle and expanding the masculine profile. However you may feel about winemaker/proprietor’s Bill Hunter’s approach, an artful, impressive package.

2009 ROAR, Gary’s Vineyard (Santa Lucia Highlands, California) – Gary Franscioni co-owns this vineyard lying at the center of the hillsides falling within the Santa Lucia Highlands AVA with Gary Pisoni, and his bottlings under the ROAR label always offer a nice, finesseful contrast to those under the Pisoni label. The nose here is stunning – luscious, exuberant pinot fruit of strawberry jam mixed with wild cherries – and the bright, exciting,, high toned fruit qualities are packed into a tight, juicy, mouth-watering medium weight body, underscored by mouth-watering acidity and just moderate tannin.

2009 Lucia (Pisoni Family), Gary’s Vineyard (Santa Lucia Highlands, California) – Lucia is the Pisoni family’s sister label, producing pinots that are not quite so aggressively structured as pinots from the Pisoni estate, yet deep, dark, and saturated all the same. Violet red color and a smoky, spicy, generous mix of black and red wild berries in the nose; followed up by a lush, full, fleshy body containing a densely textured, toothsome sweet fruit profile in the middle, with enough balance and composure to remain unperturbed by bang-up smacks of fruit and oak tannins. Filling, yet delicious, stuff.

2009 Dragonette, Presidio (Santa Barbara County, California) – This vineyard falls west of the Sta. Rita Hills AVA’s delimitations, and is one of the foggiest, coldest sites in the county. The nose is deceptively subdued – sweet red berries dusted in crushed, brown forest leaves – but the earth saturated pinot fruit flavors are packed into a fleshy, medium weight body, outwardly round but tightly wound at the core, finishing long, with a lip smacking, savory sweetness. Unique; nicely done.

2009 Pfendler, Estate Grown (Sonoma Coast, California) – Nestled near Sangiacomo’s Roberts Road vineyard on the western flanks of Sonoma Mountain in the Petaluma Gap, Pfendler’s plantings have been producing moderately scaled pinots that should satisfy all the needs of the nagging “anti-alcohol” crowd we’ve been hearing more from lately, yet with the deep, saturated colors (in this wine, a blue/violet red) and expansive feel appealing to lovers of more generously endowed pinots. The nose here is bright and puristic – raining wild cherry and raspberry fruitiness – and after a lush, velvety entry, the fruit qualities loom large and seamlessly in the mouth, pushed upwards by the crisp acidity typifying more and more of the wines we are seeing from this promising, future AVA (for more details, visit the Petaluma Gap Winegrowers Alliance page).

2009 Belle Glos, Las Alturas (Santa Lucia Highlands, California) – If you’re into “gobs” of fruit and depraved, public displays of varietal flesh, this belle’s for you, you animal you. Hey, it’s also a nice wine – the pinot harlot with the heart of gold – particularly in respect to its bull’s eye display of spiced, strawberryish varietal focus enriched by sweet French oak, positively gushing through the nose and over a salacious palate. There’s enough acidity to snap the gorgeous fruit to attention, but the base intentions are still perceived through its outwardly soft, luscious, shamelessly fruit bombing profile.

2007 Sierra Madre Vineyard (Santa Maria Valley, California) – This long revered vineyard source is now found primarily under the estate’s own label, and it’s a red haired beauty: very sweet, concentrated red plum/strawberry perfume, star bright and fragrant in the nose; velvety, medium-full body with a good, taut, firming tannin center, filled to brimming with the intense, red berry pinot flavors.

Alma Rosa's Richard Sanford

This could go on and on, but I’m going to try to cut this short by listing other outstanding pinot noirs with more abbreviated descriptors. All of following, mind you, wines that I, for one, would be thrilled sip anytime, any day. From A to Z:

2008 Alma Rosa, Sta. Rita Hills (California) - Fine, friendly, luscious finesse.

2009 Bergström, Shea Vineyard (Willamette Valley, Oregon) - Plump, red berry pudding

2008 Cargassachi, Sta. Rita Hills (California) - Sea salt, red berries, sharp and silken rolls of fruit.

2008 Chamisal, Estate (Edna Valley, California) - Brilliant red cherry focus with real silk and snap.

2008 Chasseur, Blank (Russian River Valley, California) – Broad, meaty layers of lush strawberry.

2009 Copain, Wentzel (Anderson Valley, California) - Full, aggressive, peppermint and cherry intensity

2008 Costa de Oro, Reserve Oro Rojo (Santa Maria Valley) - Lavish, smoky, pepperminted strawberry density.

2008 De Loach, Green Valley (California) – Flowers, herbed tea, red berries and silk.

2009 Dragonette, Hilliard Bruce Vineyard (Sta. Rita Hills, California) – Fragrant cherry cola, bright and high toned.

2007 Etude, Heirloom (Carneros, California) – Pillowy, plush cherries, full and round.

2009 Evening Land Vineyards, Seven Springs Vineyard Summun (Eola-Amity Hills, Oregon) – Lush, silken, feminine transparency.

2008 Expression 38°, Gap’s Crown (Sonoma Coast, California) – Fleshy, leather lined red and black fruit.

2008 Expression 44°, Zena Crown Vineyard (Eola-Amity Hills, Oregon) – Bursting perfumed fruit and leather gloves.

Failla's Ehren Jordan in the extreme Sonoma Coast

2009 Failla, Hirsch Vineyard (Sonoma Coast, California) – Amazing grace, velvet, perfectly composed strawberry notes.

2008 Foley Estates, Rancho Santa Rosa (Sta. Rita Hills, California) – Fresh wild cherries, fleshy feel and zingy acidity.

2008 Freeman, Russian River Valley (California) – Sumptuous mix of black fruits, and strawberry, plump and full.

2008 Freestone, Sonoma Coast (California) – Brilliant cherry/strawberry varietal spice; zesty, medium-full body.

2008 Gary Farrell, Russian River Valley (California) – Classic smoky/toasty, lush and beefy Russian River style.

2009 Gypsy Canyon, Sta. Rita Hills (California) – Gentle, refined, soft and luscious red pinot fruitfulness.

2008 Hartford Family, Arrendell Vineyard (Russian River Valley, California) – Lusciously ripened, dried cherry/red plummy, fleshy indulgence.

2008 Hilliard Bruce, Sta. Rita Hills (California) – Affable, pure strawberryish varietal fruitiness.

David Hirsch

2007 Hirsch Vineyards, San Andreas (Sonoma Coast, California) – Beautiful red fruit, rose petal and woodsy fragrances, tight and complex.

2007 Hitching Post, Highliner (Santa Barbara, California) – From the famed Fiddlestix Vineyard; floral perfumes, meaty fruit and dense textures.

2008 Jalama, Heartbreak Joseph Blair (Santa Barbara, California) – Another ultra-cold climate planting west of Sta. Rita Hills; earthen, smoky, crushed autumn leafy red berry perfumes and sharply defined acidity.

2008 Kessler-Haak, Clone 2A (Sta. Rita Hills, California) – Dollops of strawberry jam and wild berries, brightened by zesty acidity.

2009 Kosta-Browne, Russian River Valley (California) – Full scaled, meaty, smoky, yet teeming with rich red berry fruits.

2008 Le Fenêtre, Sierra Madre Vineyard (Santa Maria Valley, California) – Red roses, cherries, strawberries and smoky peppermint spices with feminine allure.

2008 La Rochelle, Sleepy Hollow Vineyard-Block A (Santa Lucia Highlands, California) – Sweetly intense red berries and woodsy green perfumes, heady and sharp.

2008 Landmark, Kanzler (Sonoma Coast, California) – Flowery strawberry and baked cherry pie fruit and spices; full tannin and velvet upholstering.

2008 Landmark, Grand Detour (Sonoma Coast, California) – Raspberries and new leather with rich, round detailing.

2009 Larry Hyde & Sons, Carneros (California) – Black cherry jam and velvet lined, full bodied strength.

2009 MacPhail, Sonoma Coast (California) – Combines flesh, muscle, and sweet toned fruit penetrating a wall of sturdy tannin.

2009 Melville, Sta. Rita Hills (California) – Absolutely luscious, pure, strawberryish fruit with velvet texturing brightened by lively acidity.

2008 Orogeny, Green Valley of Russian River Valley (California) – Buckets of fresh red berries in zesty, buoyant, medium body.

2008 Rusack, Reserve (Sta. Rita Hills, California) – Plump, ripe strawberries in masculine, musclebound packaging.

2008 Seagrape, Hibbits Ranch (Santa Barbara, California) – Another exciting cold climate growth west of Sta. Rita Hills; super-spicy, vibrant, sweet fruit and loamy earth toned;; by Karen Steinwachs (also winemaker of Buttonwood Farm, and former Fiddlehead cellar rat).

2008 Sinor-La Vallee, Aubaine Vineyard (San Luis Obispo, California) – Pleasingly plump, fragrant, cherry cola, sweetly oaked style.

2007 Stephen Ross, Stone Corral Vineyard (Edna Valley, California) – Sprigs of mint, bright strawberries, solidly crisp and slender.

2007 The Ojai, Solomon Hills Vineyard (Santa Maria Valley, California) – Sweet red fruit perfumes with green leafy herb nuances; sumptuous fruit overriding solid tannin.

2008 Pey-Lucia, Frisquet (Santa Lucia Highlands, California) – Effusively perfumed red fruits wrapped in crisply creased silk.

2008 Pey-Marin, Trois Filles (Marin County, California) – Achingly rich, scented immersion in the gentle, flowing, feminine side of pinot.

2008 Sea Smoke, Southing (Sta. Rita Hills, California – Violet ruby, red berries and baking spices, fleshed out in medium-full, zesty sensations.

2009 Siduri, Sta. Lucia Highlands (California) – Decadently rich, round, fleshy blend of Gary’s and Rosella’s Vineyards, enriched by smoky oak.

2009 Thomas George Estates, Russian River Valley (California) – Showy, velvety, unbridled Russian River expression of pinot; red fruits steeped in smoky, minty spices.

2007 Tolosa, 1772 (Edna Valley, California) – Effusive, spiced cherry pie aromas and round breadth of ripened varietal qualities.

2008 Vergari, Sangiacomo Vineyard (Sonoma Coast, California) – Intensely spicy, earthy, smoky, silky fruit profile zapped by lively acidity typifying Petaluma Gap.

2008 Zotovich, Sta. Rita Hills (California) – Strawberry preserves on toast, with velvet textures punctuated by fruit sharpening acidity.

La Follette's Simone Sequeria (winemaker) and Nancy Bailey (GM)

Denver, I hardly knew ye (lowdown on Mile High restaurants)

2010-06-14T20:42:00.011-06:00

Here’s to all the poetry
And pickin’ down the line…

- Townes Van Zandt (To Live Is to Fly)

As I write this, after a three-year stay, I’m about to saddle up and check out of this Western town; where seldom were heard discouraging words, but rather, a chicken for every pot, and a space for every car. An American dream: that shining city on the hill, 5,280 ft. in the air. Hence, this final report: a farewell ode, in a manner of sorts, to Denver’s high altitude, low attitude restaurant scene…

It may not have looked like it on television during that ever-so-hopeful 2008 Democratic convention (except, of course, to those pitiful tea baggers, still out there gnashing their teeth under the mistaken impression that this is still “their” country), but Denver is still a “cow town.” There’s the National Western Stock Show, for instance, that takes place every January, and is still the country’s premier livestock event of the year – and a shot in the arm for the local food and beverage industry, often scratching out its winter business under a foot or two of snow, while the only big-time games in town are the not-so-steady Avalanche and the perennially frustrating Nuggets.

The upshot being, Denver is still where the beef (plus bison and lamb) is at: its metropolitan population of some 2.5 million (21st most in the country), surrounded by about 1.3 million head of cattle on some 13,100 independent ranches (64% of them still less than 50 head in size, many practicing sustainable methods). Besides crystal clear water (life tastes so good when it doesn’t all have to come from bottles) and crisp mountain air, we do have vibrant springs and the natural paint-by-number autumns, sandwiching sporadic spurts of 90+ degree summer days.

Consequently, food conscious Coloradans are gifted by plenty of locally grown vegetables, fruits and artisanal cheeses, overflowing the April-to October farmer’s markets, where you occasionally see some of the town’s savvier restaurant chefs (not a lot of ‘em, since, as in most towns, most are still addicted to Sysco suppliers) trolling about among the peons. One thing you can say about the Rocky Mountain citizenry, though: they’re a helluva lot fitter looking (everyone’s a marathoner, snowboarder, or alpine bike rider) than the joe-sixpackers and everyday soccer moms of Sarah Palin’s mythical America.

By the time the local oil industry began to, like, run out of gas in the late eighties, the Colorado economy had already begun to diversify into the commerce we see today: high-tech, software, financial, renewable energy, bioscience, aviation, aerospace, and more. Flush with cash during the past two decades, seemingly all of Denver’s twenty and early thirty-something’s (at least those not prolonging school, waiting on tables, parking cars or pumping gas) have been packing into the half-million dollar lofts in LoDo (Denver’s “Lower Downtown”); or, once reaching breeding age, steadily fanning out into the comfortable digs of the ever-expanding suburbs, north and south of the city, or west towards the actual Rockies.

Despite an extremely healthy recent-immigrant population (especially Latino or Hispanics, making up some 35% of metropolitan Denver and its five surrounding counties), the average per household income (about $52,000) has been well over the national average. Ergo: bustling restaurant, foodie and wine trades.

So where is Denver at? As someone who’s lived, and opened restaurants, in cities as far flung as Honolulu and New York, and more than a dozen more in between, I can say this with authority: the average Denver restaurant guest expects, and receives, a knowing level of sophistication out of their restaurants; yet is not so tyrannical as the tough cookies in the country’s other major, so-called “restaurant towns” (i.e. San Francisco, Chicago and New York) in respect to standards, illusionary or not. In other words, folks in Denver just enjoy their food and drink, and are open to almost anything in customarily enthusiastic, forgiving ways.

Which I think is cool, in a refreshing sort of way. You don’t have to be a great chef or restaurateur to be “great” in this town. They’ll love you if you’re just decent, providing you don’t chase them out the door with the attitudes that work only in the bigger cities. In Denver, customers give their restaurateurs latitude, as long as they don’t abuse it.

The star chef restaurants

There is, to begin with, a solid core of Denver’s own “celebrity” chef driven restaurants, beginning with those of Kevin Taylor: five in all, including a traditionally solemn, white tableclothed Restaurant Kevin Taylor, the studied interpretation of Italian cuisine at Prima Ristorante, and the casual-chic Palettes; the latter serving up an airy atmosphere and a New Mexican/L.A.-ish menu in a spacious, picture-window wrapped room attached to the city’s Libeskind designed Denver Art Museum. Is Taylor’s food fresh and contemporary? Si. Does it rock your world and make you want to write home to Aunt Gladys in New Jersey or Uncle Max in Chicago? M-m-maybe, maybe not… but to the average Denverite, Chef Kevin is proudly theirs, and that’s that.

In similar, almost painfully artful style, chef/entrepreneur Frank Bonanno has carved out his own culinary Gallia est omnis divisa in partēs trēs: starting with the haute American Mizuna (encompassing the entire home on the range, from Hudson Valley duck with dirty rice to miso-scallop potstickers and Maine lobster mac ‘n cheese); the somewhat/somehow-Italian Osteria Marco (house made mozzarella, meatball sliders, and lamb loaded down with goat cheese and tapenade); and most recently, a countertop-centered homage to Chinese (i.e. wontons and suckling pig buns) and Japanese (“lobster ramen” and “prosciutto soba”) cuisines called Bones. As with the brazen leadership of Taylor, if you feel like you’ve gone through this type of culinary peregrinations before (the age-old question: why buy interpretations of Asian, Italian or American foods when the real things are just around the corner, for a lot less?), then you’re just not from Denver. The locals love it, and more power to them!

Then there is chef/owner Jennifer Jasinski, who dishes out simpler yet eminently satisfying fare at Rioja (hard to argue with the clarity of her pecorino ravioli with fava beans, or her Colorado lamb burger with spicy aioli and arugula). Across the street from Rioja in Larimer Square (Downtown Denver’s restaurant row, where the strings of Christmas lights are never stored away), Jasinski’s brasserie-like Bistro Vendôme serves up the requisite oysters and poulet rôti aux herbes with faithful aplomb, but the service there can be appalling – the closest thing to Big City airs in Denver. Too bad.

Insofar as local celebrity chefdom, though, I have to give the most props to Troy Guard, who owns the recently opened TAG, sitting between Rioja and Osteria Marco under the bright lights of Larimer Square. Admittedly, I’m prejudiced – Guard’s first decade behind the stoves were spent alongside my former partner in Hawai`i, East-West doyen Roy Yamaguchi, followed by stints for Chef Y. in Hong Kong, Tokyo and New York – but Troy has come a long ways since then. At TAG, Guard now fuses Asian-Pacific, classical, Latino as well Colorado inspired techniques and ingredients; often all on one plate, to the point where it’s much less a “fusion” than an earnestly personal style. The crowd, predictably, is a yes-we-can convention of youthful, local beauty and bewildered looking business-account expenders. Service can be a little ragged (you wish the managers and servers spent more time with you than the sexy kids sitting two tables away), but that’s okay – after all, it’s always Christmas in Larimer Square.

Rioja (in Larimer Square)

French or Italian, if you must…

TAG is an It eatery, but personally, I make no bones about ultimately preferring the smaller, mammy-made looking restaurants smacking of a little more individuality – as imperfect as that might be in Mile High City – than well capitalized thematics. If you feel like French, for instance, I would step up and suggest the postage stamp sized Z Cuisine, owned by French born, seasonal/organic/regional-source obsessed chef Patrick Dupays. While Dupays’ dishes are hit-or-miss (often a little more heavy handed than what you want in a bistrot), at least Z feels authentique; right down to the bad art, dust in the corner, frightfully serendiptous (and occasionally soused) staff, the raggedy but chichi clientele (from Denver’s hip, but lower rent, Highlands neighborhood, just west if I-5 from LoDo), and wines as cheap in quality as they are in price (at least you get what you pay for).

Speaking of which: I don’t care what they say, but there’s always room in this world, or at least in every major city, for old fashioned “bad” French dining. So when I’m in the mood for stubby glasses of sour, off-beat vin ordinaire, and heaping, reasonably priced plates of charcuterie, confit and cheese, I confess a weakness for Le Central on Lincoln – loopy service, funky setting and all. But I ask: what’s not to like?

The same goes even moreso for Il Posto, in the neighborhood of Northeast Denver on E. 17th Ave., just two blocks off E. Colfax: a cozy, 50 seat, open kitchen dining room where the dishes by Milanese born chef/owner Andrea Frizzi remain pretty faithful to the Italian tradition of focusing on ingredients rather than technique. In these days of chefs who cannot help but impose an overweening “personality” over a culinary discipline, a restaurant that somehow keeps dishes down to no more than four or five ingredients (like Il Posto’s grilled buffalo flank with Sicilian sea salt, mizuna, shaved Piave and caramelized jus) is a triumph in itself. Frizzi’s stature, even in this medium-sized city, may never be as large as a Bonnano or Guard; but to devotees of authentic Italian cooking, his looms extremely large.

Best of the independents

But don’t get me wrong: small, independent restaurants in Denver are not necessarily quirky. In fact, I think you can eat off the floor of LoDo’s sleek, bright, professional, urban-chic Sushi Sasa, where chef/owner Wayne Conwell draws throngs of sophisticated aficionados of sushi: in Conwell’s hands, precision cut and pretty much perfectly balanced, focused without being rigid, creative without losing focus. Trust me on this: I’ve experienced great sushi from Honolulu to L.A., and from San Francisco to New York during my thirty-plus years in the restaurant business, and Conwell has the touch. If you get there when he is fooling around with ankimo (monkfish liver), by the way, jump on it – and thank me later.

Two other personal favorites among the smaller independents, both known for their equally individualist, reasonably priced, globally sourced wine lists: first, chef Teri Rippeto’s perennially seasonal and organic Potager on Ogden, in the midst of the old Victorian neighborhood of Capitol Hill; and second, Table 6, tucked in the homey hood of Capitol Hill on Corona, doing equally fresh, unadorned yet delicious cooking (plus, Table 6 manager Aaron Foreman has easily the most seasoned hand in his wine selection, among all of Denver’s aspiring sommeliers).

Then there is the almost soberingly pure distillations of flavor (in the best Northern California style, with Mediterranean rusticity) that you find at duo; this Highlands neighborhood restaurant driven primarily by the intelligence of chef/partner John Broening. Pretty much same team at duo has also recently opened Olivéa on 17th Ave. (Capitol Hill), where Broening indulges his passion for off-meats like pork belly and pig’s feet, or in sausages and boudin blancs; while his pastry chef/wife, Yasmin Lozada-Hissom, wows the faithful with goodies like pistachio semifreddo, or the occasional apple crostada with caramelized bacon ice cream.

Turningjapanese…

So let’s go back to talkin’ Japanese, which you actually find in reliable plentitude in Denver. First, I’m a big fan of the Japanese country-comfort cooking at Domo, located in a garden setting on Osage; incredulously, just off the ear splitting I-5 freeway. Domo’s stews and custards are indeed comforting; and the only thing about the restaurant that doesn’t remind me of my eight years growing up as a child in Tokyo is Domo’s invariably rude, uncaring service (I remember the Japanese as being unceasingly polite, even to gaijin). But if you just pretend you’re somewhere else, like Juarez or Rome, I think you’ll do okay.

But if for the comfort of the traditional Japanese sushi counter and square cups of saké, hot or cold, there’s either Sushi Den in the Southeast Denver burbs along Pearl St.; or the cozy, less hip (slightly fewer bottled blondes, tatoos and pierced body parts) but consistently fresh, efficient Sonada’s in LoDo, where everyone seems to know everyone’s name but mine

Where everybody knows your name

Yet, speaking of which: there is a bustling, exceptional oyster bar (nothing but the freshest bivalves)/seafood restaurant in LoDo where, I swear, the bartenders always remember my name, even after being away two or three years: Jax Fish House, an outpost of the original Jax in Boulder, where Top Chef dude Hosea Rosenberg has been doing his thing (the longtime chef at the LoDo Jax, Sheila Lucera, is plenty talented in her own right). Going back over the freeway into Highlands, there is a sister restaurant to Jax called Lola, specializing in coastal Mexican seviches and fresh fish tacos (not exactly Puerto Vallarta, but close enough), and where both the high and low brows gather on a deck to enjoy the biggest selection (I think, if about 150 qualifies) of tequila north of the border.

As long as you’re hanging around the hip confines of Highlands, you might also want to drop in on the unpretentious, low-key venue, on 32nd off Lowell; where, for lunch or dinner, you can satisfy occasional cravings of Kurobuta pork belly, shrimp ‘n grits, or a more innovative (and totally delicious) mussels with chorizo. If time is of the essence, but the mid-day appetite demands remittance, the place to go in Highlands is Masterpiece Delicatessen; making waves of late with its wild tuna and truffled egg salad sandwiches (your choice of chips!).

Brews and barbecue

But wait, there’s more… waiting for hungry, thirsty souls in Denver’s Highlands. Some say, for instance, that the pit roasted barbecued brisket, pulled pork, and bison baby backs at Big Hoss Bar-B-Q & Steakhouse is the best in Denver, and who am I to blow against the wind? Having lived in Memphis and Low Country Georgia, and also traveled through the Carolinas, I can say that Big Hoss stacks up.

Hungry for just a snack and, like me, harboring a secret passion for authentic, piping hot chicharrón? Then a stop at Burrito Giant for their incomparably fresh, perfectly seasoned pork rinds – not too soft or oily, yet a far cry from dry or chewy – is an absolute must. Finally, if you wish to study the natives: the most frenetic and hardcore of the Highlands crowd is to be found at Three Dogs Tavern – can’t guarantee the pub fare, or endorse the artwork (dogs, of course), but there’s a lot to be said for $2.25 domestic brews.

Denver, as you might imagine, is also a decent microbrew town. The Wynkoop Brewing Company, for one, has been going full steam in LoDo since 1988; their variety of small-batch beers full and fresh, their steaks and game meats suitably steaky and gamey, and their burgers properly big and messy. But lately, I’ve been even more enthralled by Oskar Blues Brewery's Oskar Blues Tasty Weasel Tap Room, a little less than thirty minutes drive from LoDo in the outlying town of Longmont (close to Boulder). The food at Oskar Blues doesn’t stray far beyond all-you-can-eat peanuts, and a menu of ribs, pork sands and sweet potato fries; but its main thing is life-changing craft brews, on tap or packed in low-carbon-footprint cans.

My favorite Oskar Blues brews from the can: the reliably good, stiff Dale’s Pale Ale; the outlandishly black, malty-silky-sweet Scottish style Old Chub ale (8% alc.); the butt-kicking double-IPA Gordon red ale (8.7% alc.); the titanic sized Ten FIDY Imperial ale (10.5%); and the dark, humongous, Munich style, rye laced Gubna Imperial IPA (10%). Then there are the half-dozen or so crafts always offered on tap; including a heaping, hopping Deviant IPA (8%), and a honking big Old Double Bagger Barleywine (13.2%). As you might surmise, it takes a few trips to try these generously sized offerings, lest you risk the sight of flashing blue lights in your rear view mirror on the way home. But bring your designated driver – it’s more than worth the trip, for both in- and out-of-towners alike.

The inevitable wine bar

Honestly, I’m the last person you should ask about wine bars precisely because I’ve been making my living buying, selling, writing about, speaking, and even making wine the past three decades. Wine bars bore me, mostly because I’d rather be out in the middle of a vineyard or enjoying my wine with good food (not the typical wine bar “snacks”). Plus, especially since I generally find American wine bars: 1) grossly overpriced (always ridiculous to down two glasses of wine and a miniscule appetizer, and be presented with a $30 bill – you get more in most restaurants!); and 2) dissatisfying in execution (I’ll never understand a “wine bar” carrying the same cheap stuff you see on every supermarket shelf, apart from the usual overpriced offerings).

But inevitably, someone calls for a confab in a wine bar; and if it must be in Denver, I’ll suggest the Caveau Wine Bar, Uptown on 17th Ave., which has been known to offer glasses of an interesting Montsant, a zesty Zinfandel, a soulful Rioja, or bright Dolcetto d’Alba (i.e. real drinking wines), usually falling within the $13-or-under parameters of their half-off 5-7 PM Happy Hours – which is why the place usually empties out later in the night. No matter, because there’s a perfectly gratifying Hamburger Mary’s (gays and breeders alike dig HB's "cala-mary" and dollar drafts) a short block away.

¿Por qué no?

Seeing that more than a third of Denver’s population is Hispanic or Latino, we happily eat that way, too. Going through the familiar litany of dishes: to me, God gave us offal, and burritos are properly made with all the offal in the world; and El Taco de Mexico in the Art District on Santa Fe delivers exactly that, especially when smothered in their fresh, vivid green chile sauce. For taqueria aficionados, Tacos y Salsas #3 on the “other side” of the freeway along Federal is worth the fight through traffic for. Tamales lovers (i.e. me) absolutely swoon over those of La Casita – the best $2 meal in the state – and for piping hot, pillowy, honeyed sopapillas, we turn to one of the three locations of Little Anita’s, where this treat comes gratis when you order any of heir New Mexico style specialites in mouth searing salsas. Then, for indubitably killer carnitas smothered in green or neon red chile, you have to drive to Efrain’s, thirty minutes north of LoDo in the quaint, little town of Lafayette.

But if you prefer your Mexican in the company of (forgive me) well-heeled, designer clad honkies, Denver has its share of such. Being of brown complexion, I’m not so comfortable in those settings; but I can enthusiastically recommend the cooking at Tambien in Cherry Creek: justifiably known for its papusas (variations of cheese and chile stuffed masa) and, perhaps more interesting, its series of “Tequila Dinners” – during which I once enjoyed a raviolis de huitlacoche (the latter ingredient – pungently earthy, truffley corn smut) that was so good, I wish I had an old, aromatic bottle of red Burgundy (a grand cru Corton or La Tache would have been nice) rather than the countrified Del Mezcal del Maguey that was making me see double. Finally, if your poison is indeed something like mezcal: for that gots-to-have-it Saturday or Sunday morning menudo, the short drive to Los Arcos, in Lone Tree just south of metro-Denver, is worth the trouble; especially if you fancy menudo like me – much more tripe (and less hominy), not too brothy, not too spicy, but touching all the senses with piquant, soul rescusitating sensations.

Cora Faye's Priscilla Smith

Fusion, schmusions…

Then there are fusions; which when done right, are possibly the funnest foods in the world. I’m originally from Hawai’i, and thank goodness for the Hawai`i originated L& L in the workingman’s hood of Aurora where I can sate my periodic craving for manapua (Chinese pork dumpling), kalua (smoky Hawaiian pulled pork) and laulau (steamed kalua and butterfish wrapped in taro and ti leaves). For more elaborate, yet casually inclined, experiences of East-West/Hawaiian style fish, noodles and sushi, there’s Kona Grill in the Cherry Creek Shopping Center. Across the way, on the posh streets of Cherry Creek, is Hapa, which specializes in fun, wacky sushi and decent poke (raw Hawaiian style tuna). If you still fancy the Latin/Asian fusions that were the rage at the turn of the present century, the tuna tataki, lobster potstickers and seviches at Zengo might still ring your bell. Finally, if some say South American cuisine is in itself a New World fusion, Café Brazil, west of the freeway at 44th and Lowell, is just off-beat and unique enough to be fun, casual, and zesty.

What’s the opposite of fusion? Schmusion? How about just plain American food, like Southern style soul food, for which I’ve developed a addiction after spending time doing jobs in Memphis and the coast of Georgia? Collard greens steeped with pork bones, combustible-hot fried chicken, White Lily® flour biscuits, fried pickles, stewed okra, heart-attack-salted country hams, peach cobbler, layered red velvet cake, smothered-this and smothered-that… oh, it’s baa-a-ad thing. So where in Denver can you go to fill that emptiness within? I prescribe the quaint living-room-like setting of Cora Faye’s Café in historic (if somewhat dilapidated) Park Hill, right on the tumultous Colorado Blvd. The menu at Cora Faye’s may be limited, and service as slow as blackstrap molasses, but the essentials are just about all there; including their own signature “red” waffles (not a breakfast food, but something to mop up chicken juices). Amen, bro.

Then there are Middle Eastern restaurants, which (like everywhere else in the country) tend to combine different strands (Lebanese, Syrian, Israeli, Turkish, etc.) of that part of the world; but to the apt exclusion of the rest of the globe. After a good friend of Lebanese descent brought me to Shish Kabob Grill on Grant at E. Colfax, looking right at the Colorado State Capitol, I made the attempt to try a few more of Denver’s Middle Eastern eateries. Truth is, I’m not a huge fan of humus, falafel, fava beans, etc., although I do enjoy a good tabouleh and homemade baklava, and I go absolutely bonkers for anything with saffroned rice. But what has repeatedly drawn me back to Shish Kabob Grill is its seriously sensuous, Syrian style braised lamb shanks; served with saffoned rice (of course), and with braising liquids that absolutely intoxicate the senses with spices: from what I can tell – cumin, cinnamon, tumeric, coriander, and maybe a little paprika or sumac (the latter, a bitter/sour/sweet “secret” spice that kicks down the doors of your palate like an umami elephant). My idea of heaven, to hell with the 72 virgins! In fact, when I finally find myself far from the heady life at 5280 ft. up, I’m sure what I’ll miss most is the braised lamb shanks at Shish Kabob Grill, along with the chicharrón at Burrito Giant. Sigh…

Asian

Like that of many towns, Denver’s Southeast Asian population supplies us with the grocery stores essential for our home cooking; and Denver’s pho restaurants, fortuitously, take the backseat to no other’s (including that of my former home in Orange County, CA, where the country’s largest single population of Vietnamese resides). Having tried most of what Denver has to offer (something of a feat, since there are at least 99 of them), I can say that the most consistently sustaining of them is Pho 79 (four locations covering the north, south, west, and far-west sides of town); although the combinations of jellified fish and gelatinous meats at Ha Noi Pho on Federal are probably untouchable.

In respect to Korean barbecue, Denver may not be L.A. or Honolulu, but connoisseurs of kalbi (marinated shortribs), godenguh gui (crispy broiled mackeral), bibimbap (rice, eggs and bulgogi, i.e. thin sliced beef) and bancan (a bewildering array of complimentary side dishes, including kimchi and spiced tofu) can find everything they need at Soe Jong Kwan (for civilians, called House of Korean BBQ) in Aurora for either lunch (incredible deals) or dinner.

It took me a while, but I finally got the hang of uncovering decent dim sum in Denver (not a lot of Chinese in Colorado). That said, the harrowing, pot-holed drive down W. Alameda in Southwest Denver (easily, the ugliest side of town) to the typically Chinese (i.e. cheesy) named Super Star Asian Cuisine may be less than eventful. But once you enter through the doors, Super Star is a dim sum lover’s paradise: all the squiggly, gooey, crunchy, hot, sour, spicy, sweet and mysterious variations of dumplings and odd animal parts we love, carted over to your table by all-business-like, yet surprisingly hospitable, servers (some of Denver’s hoity-toity restaurateurs might take lessons here). Better yet, for lunch, $9 to $12’s worth of Super Star’s dim sum adds up to more than what most of us can eat. Don’t tell all your friends, if you don’t want to spoil the secret.

Morning afters

Denverites, of course, are cow-towners at heart, and so the Big Breakfast is important to them. For bleary eyed techies, though, breakfast spots open at 3 PM or 3 AM are also absolute musts, and they always know where to gravitate: either the classic, sixties-ish Denver Diner on W. Colfax, or the venerable Pete's Kitchen (continuously packed since 1942). Both are open 24/7 and fit the bill, like beautiful launderettes, whether you are trashed or not; but if you want “gourmet,” or dark, organic, or fair-trade coffee, you better move on, son.

Whatever your social pretensions, the urban-cool Snooze, down the street from Coors Field in LoDo, does serve gourmet coffee, and turns breakfast into a little bit of culinary expereince. I’m a guy, so I don’t go gaga so much over their battery of fruit and cream filled pancakes (so I can’t tell you about them); but I almost always end up with Snooze’s Niman Ranch pulled pork benedict (extra hollandaise on the side), which is something to text home about. Barring that, I find the crabcake benedict at Toast, in the old town of Littleton off Santa Fe Dr., equally satisfying; and recently, a second location of Toast opened on Columbine in Cherry Creek, mercifully supplanting a Village Inn.

Then there are the occasional special needs: Dutch Baby pancakes are as good as they sound – fluffy as a cloud, filling as a cannonball – and for that (or a mile-high Spanish omelette), you need to repair down south to Original Pancake House, among the tech centers of Greenwood Village. More dubiously speaking: for either chile rellenos with eggs or huevos rancheros (Denver being such a goddamned Western town), the Mexi-grill style Sam’s No. 3, Downtown in the Theatre District, has been dishing them out by the gloopy ton since, like, the roaring twenties; and finally, if you’re a glutton for punishing crowds and interminable waits, Lucile’s Creole Café serves twisted renditions of Louisiana classics like eggs Sardou (where’s the artichoke bottom?), crawfish etoufée (I think), (strangely Lilliputian) beignets, and weak excuses for Creole coffee that the breakfast-starved folks in Denver seem to love nonetheless, and bless them all the same!

Cowboy coda

Let’s cut this off with this one, final word: steakhouse. If anything, ever since the gold diggers and railroad men ran off the native American population back in the mid-1800s, Denver has been the place for heap big red meat. When I was first escorted around the town just over ten years ago, one of my first duties was to visit The Buckhorn Exchange – Denver’s oldest continuous restaurant (since 1893) – where among the specialites, you can savor buffalo prime rib and Rocky Mountain oysters (i.e. bull’s testicles, mi amigo). If your taste is more mainstream, however, Elway’s (owned by the hometown hero) has been doing such a bang-up job in its first location in Cherry Creek, that they recently opened up a second store Downtown in the Ritz-Carlton where, I presume, there are plenty who can afford it. Otherwise, all the national brands (Fleming’s, Ruths’ Chris, Del Frisco’s, The Capital Grille, et al.) are here, and doing quite well, thank you. Yet, my personal favorite: Sullivan’s, as much for its handy-dandy LoDo location (a block from Coors Field) as its scaled-down steakhouse bar menu, its good old fashioned tuna tartare (my “perfect” bar food), and the “Prime Rib Sundays” (always a weakness).

Ay-dios, Colorado!

The New York Times on American syrah: truth or bull?

2010-06-06T09:36:00.009-06:00

When The New York Times comes out with a piece like the one asking, Is There Still Hope for Syrah?, and gauntlets are thrown around, naturally people will talk. So now, I'm going to speak my piece...

First of all, I don't buy the line about syrah-comes-in-so-many-styles-consumers-are-confused. Pure baloney. Cabernet sauvignons, chardonnays, pinot noirs, merlots, etc. come in just as many or more styles, and consumers don't seem to have a problem with that. Too-much-variety used to be the knock on zinfandel, and zinfandel is more popular than ever!

Second, it doesn't help to have stories printed like that piece in the Times that insinuate that there's something "wrong" with, say, California syrahs (let's not forget, Washington and Oregon makes fabulous syrahs, too). The statement by Comiskey, for instance, saying that syrahs at "higher ripeness" levels "lose their character" and become "generic" is an over-simplification. It's climate, soil, topography, etc. that makes for great syrahs, whether or not they are picked at higher levels of ripeness.

What surprises me is that Comiskey was just with our sommelier group in Santa Barbara this past April, tasting a number of killer syrahs from Santa Ynez Valley's Ballard Canyon area with totally intense varietal character and terroir definition, and plenty of balance and acidity to boot -- yet all of them picked at extreme levels of ripeness. So what were those syrahs: duck soup?

All those great Sine Qua Non syrahs everyone raves about? None of them have been "low" or even "moderate" in ripeness and alcohol. All of the consensus "finest" syrahs of the past ten years, made by the likes of Amavi and Long Shadows in Washington, Tyrus Evan and Quady North in Oregon, Jaffurs and Stolpman in Santa Barbara, Neyers and JC on California's North Coast? Virtually every one of these wines fall somewhere between 14% and 15% alcohol or higher.

As pointed out in that very same Times piece, "cool climate" more than anything leads to well defined, world class syrah. Cooler climates in California, however, still produce ultra-ripe syrahs, ending up a good 1% to 2% higher in alcohol than what you find in Northern Rhone grown syrahs. So what? If the wine is balanced, totally delicious, true to the grape and its origin, then it's a great syrah, period.

Don't get me wrong, I appreciate the work Comiskey is doing promoting Rhone style wines (he's writing a book). But misleading inferences, like California-syrah-is-too-ripe-or-full, quoted in widely read papers only serve to turn off potential syrah consumers (heck, many wine professionals) who don't know better, and believe everything they read.

Exactly why should I care? I would hate to see consumers changing their mind about buying a perfectly beautiful Neyers or Jaffurs syrah because their labels read 14.5% -- just because of something erroneous they read in the Times. The consumer loses, and so does the producer. I don't get it, and I just don't dig it.

California syrah, it's true, doesn't have a Sideways going for it like pinot noir. Pinot noir is also extremely food versatile, and soft and easy on the palate (btw, the average alcohol level of top rated ultra-premium pinot noir these days now tops 14% -- and they taste great!). These are all plusses for consumers. But you also have to remember: it took several decades for West Coast pinot noirs to establish themselves in the hearts, minds and palates of consumers. The big syrah push in West Coast vineyards didn't take place until the mid-1990s, and their increased presence in the market after 2001 has been hampered by two recessions, not to mention the sudden popularity of pinot noir.

Ergo, my take: all of us (producers, sommeliers, distributors, retailers, etc.) need to be patient with syrah. Nothing comes overnight; but judging from the outstanding quality of the wines we are seeing, it's all a matter of time.

Finally, it is always a huge mistake to underestimate the food versatility of syrah. Like both pinot noir and zinfandel, the best syrahs (even the biggest) are intensely perfumed and fruit-forward by the very nature of the grape. These make for wines that handle meats in intense sauces and spices -- peppercorns, chile peppers, mustards, barbecue sauces, dry rubs, herbs, Port reductions, you name it... -- with delicious ease. For a detailed treatment of syrah's food affinites, re my piece in Culinary Wine & Food Matching.

Syrah is far more food versatile than cabernet sauvignon and merlot; and in many instances (handling fattier meats in strong spices or sauces), it is more versatile than pinot noir.

Sommeliers and restaurateurs: if you're a true believer, you can do your part by highlighting a good syrah or two (or three) on your glass lists, and having your staff match them up with any one of the many dishes they go with.. To a large extent, pinot noir is already been-there-done-that. Here's a chance to blow your guests away with something sicker.

Then maybe, next year or hopefully soon after, we won't be sitting around saying things like, "is there hope for syrah?"

Throw the wine geeks out! (or, summer is for pink wines)

2010-05-30T19:01:00.001-06:00

Real Men Drink Rosé is the the title of the latest post on Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant's Inspiring Thirst blog. Yes, indeed they do; especially the dry, minerally charged rosés (the opposite of tutti-fruity) imported by this iconic Berkeley importer.

Even us ragtag, everyday-is-a-bad-hair day winos can think pink without our bumhood being challenged. Blue skies and beating suns this time each year always make me think of a long departed, newspaper cartoonist friend of mine named Harry Lyons, who could always be counted on for an encouraging word; and not just during the countless hours we shared at a certain dark bar we frequented some years ago in Hawai`i.

Harry penned a series of articles called The Vagabond Gourmet for the same restaurant industry publication (long defunct) I wrote for; and my all-time favorite was one he called "Wine Bums" – about the scourge of the “Gallic dandies” who once dominated the sommelier profession in the sixties and seventies:

Not very long ago, a guy whose only felony was craving red wines with his fish course was made to feel like a buffoon and pariah. Wine stewards would turn in their keys before they’d serve the dreaded, bastard rosé wine. And to bring you wine “on the rocks?” It is to laugh. In short, diners whose tastes in wines and service requirements differed from the dreary norm were considered on the same social level as the bleary, bearded hobo with feet wrapped in newspaper and cigar stub on a toothpick, cooking his beans in a can over a fire while swilling Muscatel from a jug in a pager bag… bums!

And yes, the late, great Harry Lyons that I knew in the eighties brazenly drank all his wine on the rocks (Burgundy, Chablis or Vin Rosé, he never discriminated), which even I wouldn’t dare in those days. Despite his calling himself a “wine bum,” we both knew that in reality he was more of a connoisseur than so-called connoisseurs. Like a true connoisseur, he consumed his wine with knowing relish, rather than with self-conscious superficiality.

I like to think we’ve evolved far beyond those dark, old days of “fine dining” and “continental cuisine,” when sommeliers (like me) wore velvet bows, cummerbunds, chains and ashtrays over their frilly tuxedo shirts, and when much of what was called service entailed “teaching” customers the proper ways to enjoy food or wine (or as Harry often put it, “the hoary old matches that originated in Europe”), but oft-times I wonder... especially in this day and age of 100 point scores, and the obsessive prattle of wine geeks and collectors, unknowingly (or so it seems to me) fueled by lifestyle magazines and journalists determined to pigeonhole wine into neat, little quality categorizations suitable for Consumer Reports. Shut up and drink your wine!

Where have all the wine bums gone?

Harry Lyons was ahead of his time, but he probably wouldn’t have given a hoot about all this anyway. He'd just order up another round for all, asking for another side of rocks for his jug wine rosé!

A FEW OF MY FAVORITE ROSÉS (AND PINK WINE FOODS)

Summery pink wines taste great by themselves, and are even better with food – from hobo style weenies on toothpicks, to endless Babette-like feasts among babbling foodies. The following are my favorites, which I suggest with one caveat: never, never buy a bottle that is over two years old. For pink wines, dry or sweet, it’s always the-fresher-the-better…

SoloRosa (California) – Now here’s an idea whose time has come: a North Coast brand specializing in exactly one wine – a bone dry rosé. And no, it’s not a “Rhône Ranger” or anything gimmicky like that, but rather a serious winery, sourcing sangiovese, merlot and occasionally some syrah from the Russian River and Napa Valleys that are grown for the express purpose of producing the finest, juiciest pink wine possible. The good news is that it’s been a winner – avoiding the rough, burnt out, annoyingly overripe taste of many North Coast rosés of the past. Instead, SoloRosa is consistently rich and refined, neither light-weight nor heavy, with creamy, barrel fermented textures underlying usually an intense mélange of raspberry, cranberry and strawberry fruitiness, with just enough citrus-like crispness to keep things honest.

One of the easiest things in the world for good dry pink is salmon – cast iron or charcoal grill charred, simply brushed with butter, or lavished in ponzu marinades or even sweetened soy glazes. But despite its dryness, SoloRosa’s fruit qualities are luscious enough to balance almost any chili spiced meat, red or white, as well tearfully hot dishes like Jamaican jerks, Cajun blackened or chili specked Thai shrimp, or pork coated in Szechuan spices. This is one wine that can be put to work; which, of course, is what SoloRosa has been about since its noble inception.

Bokisch, Lodi Rosada (California) - Produced from garnacha (a.k.a. grenache), which tends to express more of a strawberry fruitiness; and Bokisch's is as fresh as they come. In the best Southern French and Spanish tradition, this a completely dry style of rosé, exuding a bell ringing varietal fruitiness with cranberry/pomegranate-like zip, its body full yet fluid on the palate. Naturally Hispanophile grower/vintners Markus and Liz Bokisch would suggest Spanish style tapas, although the wine is great sitting on patio table by its lonesome. I've enjoyed the Bokisch with marinated shrimp and fresh chopped chile spiced guacamole in one of those restaurants where they mix the avocado in an oversized stone mortar at the table for you. Given my Hawaiian island inclinations, I also think this would be dynamite with simple fried little fish (like anchovy and sardines) and rice seasoned with everything from Japanese furikake (chopped seaweed and sesame seed seasonings) to pickled ginger, umé (sweet-sour plum), soy, and sesame seeds.

Rosé di Regaleali (Sicily) - The world owes Italian wine importer Leonardo LoCascio a debt of gratitude for discovering this perennial winner and bringing it to America. Made from indigenous Sicilian grapes, this is always a completely dry rosy colored wine, and its juicy, fleshy, mouth-watering flavors allow it to cross all kinds of food barriers. Red barbecued chicken is a no-brainer; so is meatloaf in an herby, mushroomy or tomato-laced gravy, or anything pink like salmon or half-rare tuna

Robert Sinskey, Carneros Vin Gris of Pinot Noir (Napa Valley, California - Although very little of this precious fluid is made each year, I was pleased to discover (during a meeting with Rob Sinskey last year) that this full fledged Biodynamic© winery is determined to keep this wine in its portfolio. Especially since this is this is as refined as a pink wine gets, yet always more exuberant than the occasional sightings of Marsannay rosés (also made from pinot noir) coming out of Burgundy each year. Speaking of which, whenever you find a recent vintage of French rosé from Marsannay, Chinon (made from cabernet franc) or Cassis (primarily from grenache), praise the lord and buy the bottle; and I would spend more time talking about such delicacies if their supply in the U.S. were more consistent. Typically, the Sinskey vin gris is very pale in color, bone dry, lithe, delicate, and bursting with fragrant, red fruit with rose hip tea-like suggestions: not something you have to think twice about with summer pastas in fresh herbed marinara or cold shrimp with sweet-spicy cocktail sauces; and although it's not exactly everyday (unless you live in Plan du Castellet like Mr. Lynch), some duck confit, cornichons and olive oil drizzled rockette would be nice.

Charles Melton, Barossa Valley Rosé of Virginia (Australia) - My first taste of this seriously bone dry and full structured pink wine was in one of L.A. star chef Joachim Splichal’s restaurants – matched with foie gras with rhubarb and strawberries! With fireworks, drums, and entire symphonies going off in my head, the wine’s luscious, cherry-bright fruitiness made this powerful dish even richer and more decadent. How many rosés can do that? Every year Charles Melton’s grenache based Rosé of Virginia is as rich and full as a pink wine gets. Therefore I suspect that it could do just as well with grilled fish with chutney, squab with figs, duck with plum sauce, or any other dish that combines meats and natural fruits.

The iconic Kermit Lynch (Berkeley, 2009)

Château de Trinquevedel, Tavel Rosé (Rhône Valley, France) - Imported by Kermit Lynch, this is the richest French rosé I know; firmly dry, yet effusively fruity, giving deep, full, lip smacking flavors just hinting at wet stones and green leafy herbs. Wines like this easily handle grilled chicken, roast turkey, squab, pigeon, and any game bird, especially with generous sides of squash and root vegetables.

Domaine Tempier, Bandol Rosé (Provence, France) - Also associated with Kermit Lynch, and produced by the Peyraud family, who has inspired legions of American gastronomes like Richard Olney and Alice Waters. Yet this is pink wine, not the stuff of royalty. What you will always find in Domaine Tempier’s rosé is something remarkably fresh, flowing, bone dry yet forwardly fruity – the essence of miniature sweet strawberries rolling across the tongue – finishing with a soft, stony smoothness. If you think ”Provence” when you pop a Tempier – ravioli and ragout, salt cod (or brandade) and anchovy, pesto and aioli, ratatouille and bouillabaisse, chicken with 40 cloves of garlic, etc. – you really can’t go wrong. In a pinch, Château de Pibarnon also makes an excellent Bandol Rosé – even dryer and firmer than the Domaine Tempier’s, but no less soulful.

Syrah, Syrah, Syrahs at Hospice du Rhône (and in Santa Barbara)

2010-05-12T21:15:00.003-06:00

When we talk about “Rhône” grapes, we usually mean more than syrah; but also grenache, mourvèdre, viognier, roussanne, marsanne, and some sixteen other varieties, as well as blends of such, associated with the vast expanse of Southern France, from the Riviera to the Bay of Biscay (in this sense, these aren’t nearly so much Rhône Valley grapes as they are Southern French grapes).

Santa Barbara's Los Alamos Valley at sunset

But at the 2010 Hospice du Rhône (HdR) in Paso Robles this past April 30/May 1 (the 18th annual, if you’re counting), it did seem to be all about syrah for this simple reason: damned, these wines are good. Staggeringly, lawdy mama good. But how good? Which is to say, how good have California grown syrahs become, because those are the wines that dominate the yearly Hospice du Rhône (I wish there was more French, American Northwest and Australian representation at the HdR each year, but that’s the way it is).

It just so happened that one of the seminars featured at the 2010 HdR was about The Next Generation of Côte-Rôtie producers, and was centered around the wines produced by Domaine Michel & Stéphane Ogier. Now, you have to remember that when you talk about the “latest” things happening in nearly any wine region these days, it usually is a story about vignerons taking things backwards: returning to more natural, minimalist, less manipulative grape growing and vinification practices; recalling, perhaps, the work done two to six generations ago – with, of course, the benefit of hindsight, or the latest technical knowledge, at the disposal of the present day generation.

We may dig Côte-Rôties that are less redolent of new oak (in fact, aged strictly in oversized, old, neutral flavored wood rather than new Bordeaux or Burgundy barrels), with their flavors extracted by, say, gentle foot treading in small open vats rather than through continuous pumping over in big, temperature controlled stainless steel tanks; yet we certainly don’t want to see the oxidized, vinegary or Brettanomyces infected (i.e. dead-animal smelly) styles of wine that has plagued French wines of generations past.

That said, Ogier’s Côte-Rôties certainly were eye opening. The 2007 Domaine Ogier Lancement Côte-Rôtie, culled from family’s Côte Blonde plantings, had a beautifully sweet perfume of raspberry, orange peel, and smoky incense – the spices coming totally from the grape, not barrels – and were velvety rich, zippy, effortlessly poised, and tightly woven with rock solid tannin without being heavy, rough or fat. Ogier allowed that judicious pre-fermentation cold soaking in years like ’07 helps heighten the syrah expression; yet the Lancement remains finesseful, rather feminine – i.e. true to the terroir of the famed “blonde” slope.

Coming from their miniscule plot (.32 hectares) in the darker, clay/schistous terrain of Côte Brune (the “brunette”), the 2007 Domaine Ogier La Belle Hélène Côte-Rôtie posed the deeper, darker, earthier side of the syrah grape – damson plum and blackberry with a little less spiced perfume,, but little bit more of that scrubby, meaty sauvage – with a stony fullness, while still landing with every bit as much grace and finesse as the Lancement on the palate. It was interesting to note that Stéphane Ogier related spending time in Burgundy, and being influenced by the pains Burgundians take to retain transparency of grape and terroir in their wines, because you could certainly taste it here in the Hélène.

The significance? For three days just prior to HdR, I spent quality time with 38 sommeliers from around the country, touring through Santa Barbara as part of Sommelier Journal magazine’s annual Terroir Experience. We tasted tons of pinot noir and chardonnay, of course, but also some incredible syrah, grenache, and other Rhône style blends, red and white, now coming from this region. Naturally, the question came up during our tastings and discussions: since Santa Barbara grown syrahs are so good, do they now compare with the syrah based reds of the Northern Rhône Valley?

The answer to that question depends upon what you mean by “compare.” If you mean “better” in terms of grace, finesse, or transparency of grape and terroir, I have to say that nothing beats a Côte-Rôtie by Ogier, or a Cornas by Thierry Allemand, an Hermitage by M. Chapoutier, a Saint-Joseph by Philippe Faury, a Crozes-Hermitage by Alain Graillot, or any of those classic wines made by those French bastards lucky enough to be sitting on golden real estate.

If you talk about sheer variety of styles of syrah based reds – big wines, small wines, oaky wines, unoaked wines, earthy wines, pure fruit bomb wines, cheap wines, ridiculously expensive wines, etc. – then I have to say the Americans now give the French a run for their money in all areas except, perhaps, stratospheric price points. For Pete’s sake, if you’re looking for high quality wine from a .32 hectare parcel, you have to expect to shell out $200. Whereas, even the best American syrah producers haven’t quite attained that matrix of quality/quantity/demand/stupid-98+point-scores yet. But don’t hold your breath, because those cult wine collectors never really go away (they’re always on the look-out for ways of ruining things for us actual wine drinkers).

But when you talk about syrahs of “monumental” size, “hedonistic” fruit, or “opulent” intensity – to borrow the verbiage common to some of our more oft-quoted critics (who always sound like they’re talking about Big Mac or Cinnabon attacks rather than wine) – then I have to say that American grown syrahs now reign triumphant. Yeah, yeah, now it’s me who is sounding like this is some kind of contest; yet I have to say: from what I’ve been tasting lately, up and down the coast from Yakima and Walla Walla to Southern Oregon’s Rogue and Umpqua Valleys straight on down through Sonoma Coast and Santa Barbara’s Los Alamos and Ballard Canyon, American grown syrahs take a backseat to none in terms of the wham-bam-who’s-your-daddy personality of the grape.

Let’s put this in further perspective: Takero Kobayashi. TK was the little guy who showed up for Nathan’s annual July 4 hot dog eating contest at around 130 pounds, putting away 50 to 60 of those wieners to win it six times in a row. Obviously, it was never the size but the artistry, the finesse, that did it for Takero san. Same for Côte-Rôtie: obviously, the French never have to pick it at 15% potential alcohol for their wines to achieve opulent, even hedonistic proportions. 13% always seem to do just fine, whereas West Coast syrahs need to be closer to 15% to reach those heights. That’s why it doesn’t make sense to even compare French vs. American grown syrahs.

Yet American syrahs can indeed be monumental. It has reached the point where it is possible to talk about American and French grown syrahs in the same way that we do other classic grapes: the fact that the best California chardonnays are now made in California, whereas the best Burgundian style chardonnays are now in Burgundy, France… and the same thing for cabernet sauvignon, pinot noir, and now syrah… it’s all good, depending upon the place. Comprenez-vous?

Enough of that – what did I like best during my most recent travels? These are my favorites in order of personal preference, as I sit today (05/12/2010), which will probably change a little by next week, indubitably more next month, and most certainly a lot by next year (another reason why I don’t do scores: they imply a permanence that simply doesn’t exist in the real world of wine appreciation). Re:

2007 Paul Lato, Cinematique Syrah; Larner Vineyard, Santa Ynez Valley – Lately Paul Lato (the bastard!) has been ruining my life by forcing me to rethink the parameters of what this grape can do in the New World. Last year I was inspired by the Rogue Valley syrahs crafted by Ken Wright under his Tyrus Evan label because of the thickly hewn yet svelte, lingonberry and scrubby spice perfumes of his wines, epitomizing the grape as much as the consistent quality of the modest slew of similarly endowed syrahs that have recently emerged from Southern Oregon. But Mr. Lato’s syrahs seem to take things one step further. You want spice? You get that in spades and multiplicity (anise/fennel/cracked pepper/roasting coffee) in the ’07 Cinematique. Looking for varietal intensity? The luscious plum, violet and fraise liqueur-like perfumes are also here – something you can smell practically with your eyelids when you get close to the glass. Seeking transparency (nirvana for terroir lovers)? What do you call the rock-like structure, the velvet texture punctuated by racy acidity, and tight underpinnings of seamlessly rolled tannin – qualities common to this and other wines coming specifically from the Larner Vineyard in Santa Barbara’s Ballard Canyon? If this is not part and parcel of the moderate climate and confluence of sandy, gravelly, limestone rich soils of these hillside plantings, I don’t know from Adam. Whatever the case, Mr. Lato’s syrahs ain’t no hollaback girls – they’re just the shit.

2007 Samsara, Syrah; Melville Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills – By Chad Melville of Santa Barbara’s Melville label wines: an even livelier, zestier style of syrah, yet absolutely brimming with sweetly perfumed, floral/violet, black and blueberry fruit with undertones of smoked sausage meats and ground pepper (why do good syrahs always come across like whole meals?). On the palate, the feel is suitably thick with tannin and popping, saturating, smoky-spicy fruit, cased in round, fleshy viscosity. This wine gives credence to the thinking just beginning to be spoken out loud these days: that the slightly warmer (middle and eastern), shallow, porous hillsides of Sta. Rita Hills are probably more suitable to syrah rather than to the pinot noir and chardonnay that currently dominating those slopes. What’s the sense, when you think about it, of always having to de-alcoholize pinot noir when picking them at peak ripeness in an AVA like Sta. Rita Hills? While 12%-13% alcohol reds are the norm in the Northern Rhône Valley, syrah is a beefy enough grape to taste perfectly well proportioned at 14%-15% alcohol, which is typical of the U.S. and South Australia. The only drawback, of course, is the considerably weaker market demand for syrah relative to pinot noir – right now, no one’s going to pull out pinot noir in order to plant syrah. Someone definitely needs to make a movie (Vertical rather than Sideways, with sleazy girls – or biker/chick-or-mama/winemakers – rather than guys, who you always expect to be sleazy anyway).

2008 Jaffurs, Syrah; Larner Vineyard, Santa Ynez Valley – A meaty, viscous experience, four squared and hard-packed muscularity at the shoulders, yet bulging in the middle with plummy, mulberry-juicy, wild strawberry and violet laced fruit. According to Mr. Jaffurs – who works with enough fruit throughout Santa Barbara County to know the differences – the sand-over-limestone soil of vineyards like this, along Ballard Canyon Rd. in the center of Santa Ynez Valley, yields syrahs of Rhône-like spice and perfume “with seemingly little effort.” With, of course, more of a “New World” sense of power. Taking a page from new/old generation Rhône producers, Jaffurs utilizes partial foot stomping (in this wine, 43%) of whole clusters and an unfined/unfiltered regime to ramp up the intensity without sacrificing elegance (i.e. roundness and proportion).

2007 Jaffurs, Syrah; Verna’s Vineyard, Santa Barbara – Farmed by the Melville family in Los Alamos – an unofficially recognized sub-region of Santa Barbara sandwiched between Santa Maria Valley to the north and Santa Ynez Valley to the south, characterized by a moderate climate (slightly cooler than Ballard Canyon, but a tad warmer than Sta. Rita Hills and Santa Maria Valley) and well drained hills of dusty sand and rocky loam. The ’07 Verna’s is a black velvet, purplish monster of a syrah – a little bigger (15.8% alc.) than most of what you find from nearby Ballard Canyon -- brimming with powerful, sweetly aromatic flavors more suggestive of scrubby herbs (reminiscent of Southern French garrigue), pungent tapenade, caramelized meats and crushed peppercorns than of the plain fruitiness found in most syrahs.

The Buffalo Hill at Rockpile Vineyard

2006 JC, Buffalo Hill Syrah; Rockpile Vineyard, Rockpile – Gloriously perfumed, dramatically unfolding wine from Sonoma County’s Rockpile AVA, a region located north and west of Dry Creek Valley, and defined by 800-2100 ft. elevations (this vineyard located at the highest points). Vivid purplish red pigmentation and nose of violets, cracked pepper, dark roast coffee and blackberry liqueur; feeling thick and full, yet compact with muscled, fine grained tannins and acidity giving well defined edges. The peppery spiced fruit is augmented by sweet oak, extending long and energetically on the palate; the high toned qualities exhilarating the senses.

2007 Jaffurs, Syrah; Larner Vineyard, Santa Ynez Valley – More muscled masses of red and violet perfumes – spraying peppery spice hither and yon – piled upon a concentrated, black fruit base, with mouthwatering, juicy flavors charging through the thick, supple tannin built into the wine’s bedrocked structure.

2007 Stolpman, Angeli Syrah; Santa Ynez Valley - Super-sweet in spice, not fruitiness, with the violet scented qualities tinged by resiny kitchen herbs, lavender, roasted game meats and whole bushes of prickly wild berries, lashed across a burly, strapping, Samsonite frame; the tannins substantial, yet round and toothsome in a rare meaty sort of way.

2007 Jonata, La Sangre de Jonata Syrah, Santa Ynez Valley – Aromatic suggestion of sprigs of rosemary with garrigue-like scrubbiness as well as cracked pepper spices; those qualities packed into this wine’s thick, dense, palate gripping, violet/flowery fruit concentration, yet finishing with a sleek, meticulously polished veneer.

2007 McPrice Meyers, Syrah; Larner Vineyard, Santa Ynez Valley (3% co-fermented viognier) – Staggeringly deep, dark, violet and smoky spice inundated syrah concentration; yet amazingly compact, balanced, even lithe on the palate, despite a tangible feel of enormousness.

2008 Stolpman Originals Syrah; Santa Ynez Valley – Borrowing an analogy from Bob Lindquist (in an attempt to explain the unexplainable), this wine makes you think of Shaquille O’Neal rumbling through one of his patented spins: burly yet balletic, going wild with unexpected fruit sensations. Whatever – here the syrah qualities are chiseled yet luscious, delectably deep, evolving on the palate with every sip.

Bien Nacido Vineyards

2008 Paul Lato, Il Padrino Syrah; Bien Nacido Vineyards, Santa Maria Valley – Riper, flowery, cassis-like fruit sweetened further by pungent, smoky oak, mingling with peppery, ginger root spices and just a smidgen of black olive-like herbiness; immense feel on the palate, but mostly from the sheer concentration of smoky, spicy, earthy fruit rather than from alcohol or tannin; the wine rounding out towards the finish with a silky flourish.

2007 Jaffurs, Syrah; Thompson Vineyard, Santa Barbara – Another Los Alamos sourced wine, shooting out peppery spice from a moderately full, compacted core, portraying as much stony minerality as sweet, preserve-like berryishness; dense and muscular on the palate, the flavors sweetly spiced and scrubby.

2007 Rusack, Syrah; Santa Ynez Valley – A saturated, generously compelling, velvet lined black box of a syrah emanating boysenberry, bitter chocolate and smoky French roast coffee spices, seeping through a thick core of tannin.

2007 Harrison Clarke, Cuvée Charlotte Syrah, Santa Ynez Valley – This hillside Ballard Canyon growth is rooted in limestone rich shards of chalk and porous sand; no doubt, lending the pure, ringing, flowery syrah qualities in the nose; on the palate, the wine turns thick and wild, with a black chocolate consistency, and flavors of concentrated dark berries, sweet anise and rolling, tumbling stones.

2007 JC, Haley’s Reserve Syrah; Rockpile Vineyard, Rockpile – Even thicker, denser than JC’s Buffalo Hill cuvée, with a little less baby fat in the middle. Otherwise, similar profile: floral, black liqueur-like nose, with smoky, peppery highlights and a touch of roasting meat; thickly textured, deeply extracted fruit qualities beefed up by muscular tannin and zesty edges, underlain by perceptively solid oak flavors.

2008 Justin, Focus; Paso Robles (4% Grenache): Black-purplish, riper, sweeter toned style than that of Santa Barbara, yet not without muscle under the outward layers of fat; nose of jammy fruit, steeped with anise and Chinese five-spice; big, thick, seriously rich yet balanced, buoyant on the palate, exuding explosive, heaping sensations of the spicy, jammy sensations signaled in the nose.

Beckmen Vineyards' Steve Beckmen with Stolpman's Sashi Moorman

2007 Beckmen, Block Six Syrah; Purisima Mountain, Santa Ynez Valley – The style here is full yet round, pliant, although there are generous scoops of concentrated, chocolaty, almost dried berry/raisinette qualities in the nose and flavor; the tannins sturdy yet well rounded.

2008 Davis Family, Syrah; Russian River Valley – We are also beginning to see that in other fairly cool climate zones where pinot noir predominates (i.e. Santa Maria Valley, Sta. Rita Hills and Sonoma Coast), perfectly rich, solid, well ripened syrahs can also be grown. Here, the nose is sweet, raspberry/framboise-like, with the violet varietal notes; the flavors are a little fat, or chubby, in the mouth, yet bright and vivid, hoisted by sturdy tannin and moderated oak. The main thing is the syrah definition, which this wine screams, despite the loosely woven structuring.

2007 Epoch Estate, Authenticity; Paso Robles (88% syrah; 12% mourvèdre) – One of the newer, promising Paso Robles based Rhône specialists; vivid black/purplish color, and nose of ripe cherry/strawberry with sweet, liqueur-like concentration; fat fruit qualities gushing over a full alcohol/tannin structure, making up in exuberance and satin texturing for what it might lack in subtlety.

Hanging with the devil at the 2010 World of Pinot Noir

2010-03-19T14:26:00.004-06:00

Six years ago I posted a piece in Robin Garr’s wineloverspage.com entitled American Pinot Noirs at a Crossroads. I know I was thinking of Robert Johnson at the time – you know, the “King of the Delta Blues,” whose hellacious, rusted can bottom pipes on Cross Roads Blues can still grab you by the throat like a black hand reaching out from Hades (that same Johnson who reportedly sold his soul to the devil in order to become the world’s greatest blues musician).

Grower Dave Umino, in his vineyard in
Russian River Valley's Sebastopol Hills

What does this have to do with pinot noir and the price of cheese in China? Even back in 2004 I was getting that itchy-scratchy feeling at the back of my throat, thinking: how the hell did Americans suddenly get so genius with this grape? Good enough so that even the most Frenchified oenophiles would have to admit that they’re coming out as more than reasonable facsimiles of even the best Burgundies? Something, just twenty years ago, most of us in the business thought we would never see in our lifetime.

Have our pinot noir specialists made a pact with the devil? Or has it simply turned out that West Coast terroirs are not such a hell hole for pinot noir after all? That it is not the scrawny, brooding child the late, great André Tchelistcheff once called it back in the sixties? Tchelistcheff also famously said that “all the challenge is getting the surly child to smile,” and aside from occasional accidents of nature, he couldn’t seeing it happening on the West Coast any time soon.

Then again, even towards the end of Tchelistcheff’s career, growing pinot noir (or any types of grape) between Occidental and the Sonoma Coast, below Sebastopol in the teeth of the Petaluma Gap, or anywhere near McMinnville or Lompoc was considered a physical impossibility. Perfectly intelligent people were repeatedly heard to say what once seemed obvious: that you just can’t grow grapes in frigid airs like that (of course you couldn’t… not with the mile x mile spacing, Cousin Itt canopies and grape chewing crushers still in prevalent use thirty years ago).

And dare I say, much of the pinot-will-never-be-great-outside-Burgundy thinking was based upon the premise that correct soil (i.e. Burgundian) is mandatory for great pinot noir. Yes, soil is important, but obviously climate, and simply coming to terms with the topographical cards you are handed with reasonable intelligence and empirical thought processing, have proven far more important. This is as plain as many a new American pinot’s nose: as pure and fragrant as can be.

Santa Lucia Highlands

But wait, hold your horses, because there is still a lot to naysaying going on. For one, I have yet to find a California or Oregon pinot noir that I can honestly say has “improved” with age. So far it seems that the best ones taste great anywhere from two to six years of age; and after that, all bets are off. Good West Coast pinots don’t seem to get better – they just get… old – tired, worn, decrepit. In that sense, lovers of Musigny and Chambertin need hardly hold their breath: pinot noirs from anywhere west of the Saône have yet to show half the longevity of grand or premier crus of olde.

For seconders, it is still no coincidence that the richest, most aromatic and expressive American pinot noirs are tipping the scales at 14% to 15% alcohol (and people complain about zinfandels being too “big”). Now, I agree that alcohol is just one of many sensory factors in fine wine, and that many 14.5% alcohol pinots taste more finesseful, elegant and balanced than pinots of just 12% to 13% alcohol. Nevertheless, at least for me personally, a 15% alcohol pinot noir is hardly classical; and I would surmise, much of the reason why contemporary pinots fall flat after six, eight or so years is because of this ungainly girth.

But hold on to your black leather gloves: the increasing forays into colder climates to extend physiological ripening at lower sugar levels, commitments to closer spacing and drier farming, less and less dependence upon new or heavy toasted oak, and myriad other adjustments big and small seem likely to become part of the combination to eventually lose the knocks on contemporary American pinots.

All this, and more, crystallized during my recent attendance at the tenth annual World of Pinot Noir in Shell Beach, California, this past March 5-6, 2010. Hence, this report, with a caveat: although hundreds of top pinot noirs are there for the tasting during this two-day festival, the bulk of it is Californian (lovers of, say, Burgundy and Oregon pinot noir always find slim pickings at this event).

I also participated in something called the Iron Sommelier seminar at this year’s World of Pinot Noir; as one of four sommerliers presenting two “ideal” pinot noirs with a dish prepared from a recipe of our choosing. My dish was a household favorite for sumptuous, spicy reds: Red Cooked Pork Belly, for which a good recipe adapted from Molly Stevens’ All About Braising (W.W. Norton & Co., New York/London) can be found at the end of this post. I matched this classic, Chinese style pork belly with two spice driven, snappy, cold climate grown pinot noirs: the roasted meaty, smoky spiced 2006 Hitching Post Cargasacchi Vineyard Sta. Rita Hills, and the round, juicy, strawberry, peppermint and anise/licorice spiced 2006 Maysara Delara McMinnville from Oregon.

As expected, our audience found that both the Hitching Post and Maysara pinot noirs skipped lightly and fandango-y with the peppery, gingery, cinnamon and star-anise spiced qualities of the pork belly; the crisp acidity and round tannin centers of these black and red fruit driven wines titillating the palate with every bite, even at the fattiest ends. Alas, there was no “voting” in this particular Iron competition; not even an opportunity for jury rigging (as there were no judges). But I guarantee: it was a match those unaccustomed to the appreciation of Asian style food with pinot noir are unlikely to forget.

Maysara winemaker Tahmiene Momtazi

I don’t score wines; never have, and never will (how stupid is that? – applying numbers to matters of aesthetics or organic subjects, that is), but I do have favorites. Like everyone, I might love vanilla today, but crave chocolate, Dulce de Leche or Mission Marzipan tomorrow (which is why scores are stupid – have I told you how stupid numbers are yet?). And so according to my notes just before, during and after the 2010 World of Pinot Noir, this is how I personally rate the best of the American pinot noirs tasted - basically in order of wow-ness:

2007 Failla, Occidental Ridge Vineyard, Sonoma Coast – A sultry wine that hits pinot-ness on all cylinders: huge, billowing, vibrant nose of wild berries and concentrated, wild mint, cinnamon stick and brown sugar spiced strawberry against a backdrop of toasty oak; ultra-smooth, velvet textured layering of the luscious fruit and smoky spice, becoming darker on the palate as it glides atop firm, supple tannin, coating every part of the mouth.

2007 Failla, Keefer Ranch, Russian River Valley – It’s a tribute to the magical (or bedeviling) touch of owner/winemaker Ehren Jordan that he can coax such a combination of delicacy and unadulterated strength from fruit grown in multiple parts of the North Coast. Here, an array of perfumes – fresh sweet berries (red, boysenberry, raspberry…) and smoky spices – surge from the glass, and converge in lush, lively, silky sensations on the palate, finishing with a mouthwatering (or was it jaw dropping?) incandescence, bespeaking the best, or most classic, qualities of the grape.

2008 Native 9, Rancho Ontiveros, Santa Maria Valley – Wild berry berry fragrance intertwined with vivid perfumes of peppermint and red licorice, penetrating the nostrils. Equally dramatic dramatic movement on the palate: a fine, silky entry suddenly electrified by slightly tart edged acidity, electrifying the vivid spiced fruit flavors, then layered with dense tannin adding meat to the bone, before finishing with intricate braiding of the contrasting sensations – light yet full, soft yet edgy, tight yet limber, and effusive yet compact.

Freestone's winemaker Theresa Heredia
(with her open top wood fermenters)

2007 Dutton-Goldfield, Dutton Ranch-Freestone Hill Vineyard, Russian River Valley – Tasted the week following World of Pinot Noir: brilliant, deep ruby followed by teeming, luscious aromas of spice essenced red fruit (cardamom, star anise, strawberry, cranberry, black cherry…) which, with almost unbelievable elan, seems to roll into the mouth in dense, thick, round, voluminous waves of flavor; the luscious, almost preserve-like fruit, brightening acidity and muscular tannin merged in seamless singularity.

2007 Dutton-Goldfield, Devil’s Gulch, Marin – The Marin peninsula, south of Petaluma, sees plenty of seasonal sun, but the climate is relatively cool; different, yet comparable, to conditions seen along the more vaunted Sonoma Coast. Steep terracing (up to 60% grades) also effects what comes out in the bottle: in the hands of winemaker/partner, Dan Goldfield, a pinot noir thoroughly saturated, from beginning to end, with sweet, perfumed wild cherry/raspberry fruitiness; thick with youthful, sinewy tannin, yet rounded enough for the zesty flavors to permeate the palate, the silken fine, intertwining sensations slipping over its fisted core.

2006 Freestone, Sonoma Coast – Can American pinot noir get any lusher, sharper and lissome as this? I also walked through Freestone’s precipitously steep vineyard (at 200-500 feet, in a fog smothered section of the “true” Sonoma Coast) – on a recent ear stinging day, so I got an even better feel for what I’d already tasted, comin thro’ the rye: heady, penetrating perfumes of super-plump strawberry, cassis, whiffs of smoke, and ephemeral yet distinct, toasted anise-like spice. On the palate, the incisive, acid zested strawberry fruitiness pierces clear through the velvet wrapping, lighting it up like a finger in the socket (haven’t tried it lately, but remember the feeling well). This (along with Dutton-Goldfield’s Freestone Hill) is definitely among the coastal growths that are changing the way American pinot noir is grown and defined.

2008 Costa de Oro, Dijon Selection, Santa Maria Valley – Unabashedly intense, yet beautifully sculpted pinot; the nose telegraphing rich, plush, concentrated red berry/strawberry fruitiness with subtle toasted underpinning; then on the palate, a buxom, velvety, medium-full body, releasing the sweet red berry sensations in round, voluptuous, exhilarating waves.

Hartford Family winemaker Jeff Mangahas at
Arrendell Vineyard in Green Valley

2007 Hartford Family, Arrendell Vineyard, Russian River Valley – From one of the coldest sites in the Russian River Valley’s Green Valley sub-AVA, and tasted the week following World of Pinot Noir: deep nose of black cherry with savory/thyme kitchen herb spices, leaping from the glass; the fruit qualities stuffed into aggressively round, fleshy, densely packed textures on the palate, gripping the taste receptors as they roll into a palate-popping finish.

2007 Chasseur, Umino Vineyard, Russian River Valley – Tasted just prior to World of Pinot Noir, a pinot sourced from the cool center of Sebastopol Hills, explosive with sweetly perfumed, violet and red berry/strawberry aromas; soft, silky entry, turning zesty with voluptuous, mouthwatering fruit in the middle, saturating the senses with downright regal qualities of sheer richness, poise and balance.

2007 Chasseur, Blank, Russian River Valley – Another blue chip from the heart of Sebastopol Hills; violet tinged color and humongous varietal nose of raspberry and strawberry, rose petals, savory herb spices, and smoky tobacco leaves; the sensations following up in a soft yet zesty, perfectly round, plump, velvety, seamless mouth-feel. From top to bottom, beginning to end: very complete, vivid, exacting, exciting.

2008 Baker Lane, Ramondo Vineyard, Sonoma Coast – The Ramondo is located at the southeast edge of Sebastopol Hills, a sub-region recently (in 2005) incorporated into the Russian River Valley AVA; but perhaps, sharing more of the restrained, textured qualities of other lower elevation Sonoma Coast (the larger, overlapping AVA) growths. As with a number of other pinot noirs from this fog chilled region, I find a lush strawberryish concentration in the nose, pure and unfettered by excesses like oak or warm, cola-like fruit. On the palate, the fruit intensity is woven with licorice and bright, dried red currant qualities; soft, round, velvety sensations, long and sexy in the feel.

Baker Lane's Stephen Singer in his Sebastopol Hills home

2007 Sierra Madre Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley – Sierra Madre Vineyard, at the westernmost, coolest edge of Santa Maria Valley’s planted acreage, has been supplying first class grapes to over two dozen other wineries each year going on well nigh two, three decades. Now they also produce wine under their own label, and about time, too: the nose rattles the senses with super-sweet strawberry alarm, incense and peppermint fragrances, and bang-bang vibrato. The sensations are fat and juicy at first sip, then prickly fresh and persistent in the middle, sticking to the palate in bright, fresh fashion. Nice, pure, interpretation of the grape, almost impertinent in its obstinance, whatever that means.

2007 Zepaltas, Suacci Vineyard, Sonoma Coast - Ryan Zepaltas (who also assists at Siduri and makes the wines for Soliste) crafts small lots of single vineyard pinots that show a meticulous hand and puristic sensibility. The Suacci highlights the red fruit, animating acidity and slim, sinewy attributes of many wines from Sebastopol Hills, intersecting the Sonoma Coast and Russian River Valley AVAs, and Zepaltas' talent is in making them taste exactly like that. Here, the sweet, concentrated nose and flavors cast cherry/raspberry perfumes with pomegranate-like pulpiness and just suggestion of cola. The palate feel is tight yet silky; tannin and oak dialed back far enough for the the lush flavors to expand well beyond the composed parameters.

2007 Pillow Rd., Russian River Valley – Further evidence that it is at the southern end of the Russian River Valley, south and west of Sebastopol (Pillow Rd.’s vineyard straddles the Green Valley of Russian River Valley and unofficial Sebastopol Hills sub-regions) where more and more of the prettiest, balanced, buoyant styles of North Coast pinot noir are be coming from (’07 is this winery’s second vintage). The aroma here is of cake spice tinged strawberry/cherry/raspberry, pure and unadorned by wood or other manipulations. On the palate, the round, fresh, juicy red berry qualities are revved up by bright acidity, encased in a moderately weighted body; and echoing the clarity the nose, the feel is pretty much free of bitter oak tannin, allowing the fruit profile to address the senses directly without passing go.

2007 Hartford Family, Jennifer’s, Russian River Valley – A more aggressive, deeply extracted, lower fruit toned style of pinot noir from the cool climes of the Russian River Valley’s Sebastopol Hills (as opposed to the more fragrant, feminine, strawberry-red fruit forward qualities I usually find in pinots from this sub-region). The nose is scented with dark berries, a violet perfume and coffee grinder spice and smoke; the tannins full yet finely polished, and zesty acid punctuating the thick, pulpy, meaty textured flavors.

2008 Siduri, Sonatera Vineyard, Sonoma Coast – Fruit from the Sonatera Vineyard, located just east and south of the Russian River Valley’s Sebastopol Hills (pretty much in the thick of the fog rolling through the Petaluma Gap) goes to just two wineries: Siduri and Soliste, and both are stellar. This growth seems to give crisp edged, finely delineated styles of pinot noir; as in Siduri’s, with its deeply aromatic, lush, bright strawberry/cherry/blackberry fragrances, underlined with beefy undertones; the palate feel, zesty and medium-full, chiseled yet round and seamlessly knit; and the Christmas pie-plump, sweet fruitiness, distinctly under-oaked, rising from a stratum of sturdy yet giving tannin.

Siduri winemaker/proprietor Adam Lee

2007 Balletto, Burnside Vineyard, Russian River Valley – It’s hard to get enough of these fabulously lush, focused pinot noirs coming from below Sebastopol, the coolest corner of the Russian River Valley. The nose here is drenched in strawberry syrup, dried cherry and raspberry, with spice qualities suggesting clove punctured orange peel, plus foresty/pine-cone like notes. Fat and luscious with fruit, amply supported by freshening acidity and a modicum of fine-grain tannin, rendering a buoyant, balanced feel to the irrepressibly exuberant fruit profile.

2007 Dierberg, Steven Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley – I’ve been told that this producer has been gracefully retreating from the black, burly, pedal-to-the-metal style of earlier vintages, but I’m glad they haven’t taken off the foot all the way. There’s a lot to be said, after all, for pinot noir that lays it all out on the line (you may adore Billie Holiday and Diana Krall, but who doesn’t love being slapped around by Chrissie Hynde or MC Lyte every once in a while?). The Steven is a deep, fleshy, muscular yet svelte wine; its nose inundated with peppery spice, smoked meats and dried forest floor leaves, and the requisite floral, sweet pinot-berry perfume. Turn up the grill, praise the lord and pass the steaks.

2007 Roessler, Clos Pepe, Sta. Rita Hills – Roessler is churning out an entire sumo stable of pinot behemoths these days, and I mean that in a good way: this cuvée, for instance, is so plump yet thickly muscled, toothsome yet amazingly light on its feet, that you gotta give it props, even if the juicy black pepper/pepperminty spiced strawberry/raspberry doth seem to runneth over in glorious, uncouth nakedness. There are minerally, scrubby undertones keeping bright fruit grounded; and although soft around the edges, the fruit is zippy with energetic acidity.

2007 Evening Land Vineyards, Two Daughters Vineyard, Sonoma Coast – Super-intense, sweet berry/rhubarb fragrance mingling with spices suggesting cinnamon, clove and smoked pepper. At first, lean and sprightly on the palate; then in the middle, the spiced berry qualities fill out the medium weight body, heightening the lithe, lively, silk textured qualities before finishing long yet gently.

2007 Tolosa, Marley Anne-Block 518, Edna Valley – Not long ago nearly all Edna Valley pinot noirs were dismissed as weak, Beaujolais-types because, well, that’s the way it was. Tolosa’s Marley Anne puts a decisive end to that assumption, beginning with its super-lush nose, suggesting strawberry jam tilted towards violet and blueberry; with quieter notes of apparently terroir related qualities, suggesting dried scrub and loam. The flavors are surprisingly deep and muscle toned for a wine that is outwardly plump, supple and sweetly scented; the pinot qualities striking rich, pure chords all the way through the progression.

The fog shrouded Sebastopol Hills

2008 Drake, H Block-Bien Nacido Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley – Multifaceted nose of floral/rose petal, fresh berry and stemmy, green leafy nuances. Despite the leafiness in the nose, flush with juicy, silken textured fruitiness on the palate; fleshy yet finely composed, balanced, lively, almost delicate qualities, laying down its slender, feminine frame with finesse and ease.

2007 Flying Goat, Rancho Santa Rosa, Sta. Rita Hills – I don’t think I’ve ever experienced a Flying Goat that wasn’t right on the money; and amazingly, this is winemaker/proprietor Norman Yost’s first bottling from this fairly young vineyard (owned by Foley Family Estates, where Yost once was winemaker). This bottling regales the senses with a rich blend of blueberry and raspberry, with earthen, rhubarb-like undertones; seamless flow on the palate, the silken layers of zesty berryish fruit dancing on the palate, while underpinned by firm yet unobstrusive tannin.

2008 Pali, Fiddlestix, Sta. Rita Hills – The nose is wild with fresh crushed raspberry and blueberry fragrances, and the exuberant fruitiness tucked into a moderated yet curvaceous body, beefed up by velvet textures and brothy flavors. The flavors run deep, dense, luscious, touching all parts of the palate. Great vineyard, and a terrific winemaking (that is to say, skilled enough leaving well enough alone.

2008 Freeman, Akiko’s Cuvée, Sonoma Coast – Another new winery “discovery” for me; this bottling representing a blend of multiple vineyards along the Sonoma Coast and the fog shrouded Petaluma Gap and Sebastopol Hills. Beautifully bright, floral perfume, mixing purple plum and bing cherry; the intense fruit qualities balanced on a taut yet silken smooth frame, skipping nimbly into a rich, rousing yet finely composed finish.

2008 Alma Rosa, Clone 667-La Encantada Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills – Tasted the week prior to World of Pinot Noir; sweetly concentrated strawberry/cherry cola nose with roasted/beefy and red licorice notes; yet almost belying the deep aromas, lithe and lively on the palate; the red berry flavors coming across as sleek and fine boned (think whispery waif in a supple, black leather jacket).

2008 Paul Hobbs, Russian River Valley – I always approach the products of celebrity winemaker brands with skepticism, but damned if this one just hits the North Coast pinot profile right between the eyes: gushy wild berry aroma tinged with smoky, brown spices; sweet, lively berry flavors encased in velvet as smooth and inviting as the shagged walls of Elvis’ Jungle Room; all the aforementioned, stretching across the palate in impeccably tight, fluid balance.

2007 Cargasacchi, Cargassachi-Jalama Vineyard, Santa Barbara County – Cargasacchi’s Jalama is located beyond the boundaries of the Sta. Rita Hills AVA near Point Concepcion; as such, the coldest, westernmost site in Santa Barbara County. Within a compact, pert, marbled beeefy frame, there is a nice burst of bright, sweet varietal qualities; and despite sturdy tannin in the middle, the feel is plump and plush, and the body just moderately weighted, topped with flavors of cocoa dusted raspberry and twiggy earth tones. If you’re looking for the usual surfeit of body and ultra-ripe fruitiness found in most California pinots (as charming as it may be), don’t bother searching here; but this is one vineyard to keep your eye on, if you prefer pinots of more moderate weight and classical scale.

2008 Dragonette, Fiddlestix, Sta. Rita Hills – The Fiddlestix vineyard continues to be a rich source of dynamic, expressive pinots for a number of Santa Barbara producers, and this is among the better ones: red berry pinot qualities filled out by smoky, beefy qualities; and on the palate, the round, meaty, berryish fruit underlined by a judicious dose of toasted oak, steered by buoyant yet sturdy sensations.

2008 CRU, Santa Lucia Highlands – Bright beacon of raspberry/strawberry fragrances characterize a luscious pinot fruitiness, neatly packed into a medium-full yet compact body, putting everything in its place: notably racy acidity, moderately firm yet pliant tannin, and outwardly plummy, smoothly finished flavors, bouncing through the palate.

Fiddlestix Vineyard in Santa Barbara's Sta. Rita Hills

Abbreviated notes on other outstanding pinot noirs, all highly recommended:

2008 Landmark, Grand Detour, Sonoma Coast – Unerring blend of multiple cool climate vineyards; exuberant, toasty, fat, fleshy, luscious fruit strapped over full, expansive, tannin lined body.

2007 ROAR, Gary’s Vineyard, Santa Lucia Highlands – Focused, winsome, strawberry/red berry fragrance harmonized with subtle smoke of oak; very fine, silky sensations, the fruit sharpened by piquant acidity, alive and lustrous the palate.

2008 Alma Rosa, Clone 115-La Encantada Vineyard, Sta. Rita Hills – Richly perfumed nose of red berry and cassis; soft, fleshy, sensuously curved frame; the fruit focused sensations rich and cohesive on the palate.

2007 Stephen Ross, Stone Corral Vineyard, Edna Valley – Exceptionally bright, focused, cinnamon and pepper spiced strawberry fruit; velvet layers flowing smoothly across the palate.

2007 MacPhail, Pratt Vineyard, Sonoma Coast – While carrying a Sonoma moniker, sourced from the Russian River’s Sebastopol Hills; extremely pretty, compelling strawberry/raspberry nose embedded in smoky oak; fairly full, toasty, yet round, silky; the lush fruit zippy in the middle.

Keller winemaker Jacqueline Yoakum

2007 Keller, El Coro, Sonoma Coast – Effusive nose of red berries, licorice, brown spices and subtle, smoky oak; full yet very round, and velvet textured body, allowing the fruit to drive the qualities in the mouth.

2007 Soliste, Sonatera Vineyard-T Block, Sonoma Coast – Transparent cold climate style; slightly unyielding youthful nose giving up sweet strawberry concentration; medium rather than full body, tightly woven with zippy acidity and firming tannin, the flavors running deep enough to exert an exhilaratingly fresh, bright presence.

2007 Flying Goat, Dierberg Vineyard, Santa Maria Valley – Super-juiced red berry perfume tinged with peppermint and brown spices; deep, dense yet finely textured through a long, fruit dominated finish.

2008 Freeman, Keefer Ranch, Russian River Valley – An exceptional new brand to keep your eye on; this bottling sporting a sweet array of red and black fruit, just lightly toasted; plush, juicy, long and refreshing on the palate.

2007 Pisoni Estate, Santa Lucia Highlands – Sweet, heady, wild blackberry perfume with resiny, dried herb spices amplified by rich, toasty smoke-of-oak; the aggressive notes signaled in the nose backed by a big, luscious palate profile, powered further by a core of solid tannin.

Sinor La-Valee's Mike Sinor

2007 Sinor La-Vallee, Talley-Rincon Vineyards, Arroyo Grande Valley – Soft, friendly yet vigorous style; chocolate dust coated cherry cola fruit with subtle toast; velvet layers punctuated by zippy acidity.

2007 Sinor La-Vallee, Aubain Vineyard, Central Coast – Flowery scented, lush, opulent generosity; brimming with cherry cola-like fruit; fleshy and densely extracted on the palate.

2007 Merry Edwards, Meredith Estate, Russian River Valley – From Sebastopol Hills; deeply pigmented, grippy style, yet bursting at the seams with sweet raspberry/strawberry fruit, with generous oak embellishments sitting behind the plush fruit, revved up by snappy acidity.

2008 Pessagno, Lucia Highlands Vineyard, Santa Lucia Highlands – In the big, viscous, sumptuous, seductive style that has popularized many Santa Lucia Highlands pinots: satin and lace garbed concentration of crushed cherry and cranberry, scented with violet and a touch of smoky oak.

Praying for pinot at Alma Rosa Winery

2007 Surh Luchtel, Umino Vineyard, Russian River Valley – Another Sebastopol Hills sourced bottling tasted just prior to World of Pinot Noir; plush strawberries with floral, rose petal fragrances; satin entry, with bright, forward red fruit qualities underlined by soft acidity and rounded tannin.

2007 Foxen, Bien Nacido Vineyard–Block 8, Santa Maria Valley – Sweet red berry nose tinged with red licorice and brown/toasty spices; the fruit and oak tannins wound tightly on the palate, underlying the rich layers of spiced red berry qualities.

2006 Dukes Family, Alyssa, Willamette Valley – Handsome, multifaceted nose of brambly blackberry, and raspberry veering towards cinnamon scented black cherry; sturdy, fleshy, quite full for an Oregon style.

2008 MacMurray Ranch, Willamette Valley – Gentle yet precise style, honed by a sweet toned nose and a slender yet long, silky feel; the pinot fruit qualities balanced on a pin.

2007 Chamisal, Califa Selection, Edna Valley – Sweet scented strawberry/cherry cola fragrance; slightly big in the mouth, but fine, silky flavors melting into a backdrop of earthen, tannin and oak sensations.

RED-COOKED BORK BELLY with Bok Choy

Adapted from All About Braising, Molly Stevens (W.W. Norton & Co., New York/London)

Serves 4:

Braise
One 2-inch piece of fresh ginger, sliced into 6-8 coins and smashed
3 scallions, white and green parts, cut into 1-inch pieces
One 3-inch cinnamon stick
2 oz. Chinese rock sugar, smashed into small rocks with hammer (or ¼ cup brown sugar)
2 whole star anise
¼ cup dry sherry
¼ cup soy sauce
¼ cup dark mushroom soy sauce
5 cups chicken stock (or water)
1-½ to 2 lbs. pork belly, preferably skin-on, cut into 2-inch chunks

Bok Choy
1 lb. bok choy (1 medium head or 3 baby heads)
1 ½ tablespoons peanut oil
Coarse salt and fresh ground pepper
¼ cup water

1. Braising liquid: In carbon steel or stainless steel wok, combine ginger, scallions, cinnamon stick, sugar, star anise, sherry, boy soy sauces, and stock or water. Bring to boil over medium-high heat, stirring to dissolve sugar, and boil for 12-15 minutes to infuse liquid with spices.

2. Braise: Slide pork into the wok and lower the heat to gentle simmer. Braise, uncovered, turning pork with tongs from time to time to braise evenly, until meat is fork-tender, about 3 hours. Monitor heat so sauce simmers modestly, never vigorously. Lower heat if necessary.

3. Meanwhile, washing and trimming bok choy: Rinse bok choy thoroughly, paying close attention to inside hollow at base of each leaf where dirt tends to gather. Drain. Cut lower ribs crosswise into 1-inch pieces, and slice the leaves into slightly wider 1-½ strips. Set stems and leaves aside in separate bowls.

4. Simmer bok choy: When pork is tender, turn off heat and let sit. Heat oil in large skillet over medium-high heat. Add bok choy stems handful at a time and cook, stirring, until stems throw off their water and soften, 4-5 minutes. Immediately begin adding leaves, stirring and tossing with tongs, and season lightly with salt and pepper. Add water, cover, and lower heat to medium. Simmer until bok choy is crisp/tender, about 5 minutes more. Set aside in warm spot.

5. Finish: With tongs, transfer pork to large platter and cover loosely with foil to keep warm. Strain the braising liquid medium sauce pan, and discard solids. Skim some but not all of clear fat from surface (some fat essential to flavor). Boil the braising liquid until reduced by one quarter to one half, about 8 minutes. Taste. Should be salty and intense.

6. Serving: Serve pork and bok choy with drizzle of reduced braising liquid.

Enjoying big zins at ZAP is duck soup

2010-02-03T22:58:00.004-07:00

Nineteen years ago, when ZAP (Zinfandel Advocates & Producers) held the first of its annual tasting extravaganzas in San Francisco, there was little inkling of just how big an event it would become.

A smash from the get-go, the festival quickly built up to its average attendance of some 8,000 purple-teethed zin fanatics (at this past year’s, I actually observed one zin lover brushing his chops in the restroom, then head out for more party juice), with up to 300 producers pouring at least two to six different zins each. If for the dark, lush, full bodied richness of zinfandel you pine, ZAP is for you!

Here’s another kicker, if you are a newly conscious zin lover: ZAP is also a movable feast. This year (2010) ZAP festivities will be held in Denver’s Mile High Station on April 15; then in Costa Mesa in California’s Orange County on April 18-19; moving on to Kahului, Maui on May 21-22; and then Honolulu on May 24. And if you really love to swim in zin, there is even a ZAP European Dream Cruise on August 10-24; when you board a fully loaded Oceania liner to rub elbows with not just a bevy of zinfandel producers, but also with Jacques Pepin and the executive chef of Berkeley’s famed Chez Panisse. See details on zinfandel.org.

So how do you enjoy several hundred big red zinfandels at one time, and still come up roses? You don’t; especially if you’re not in the habit of spitting after every sip. I’m a professional spitter, yet in this past ZAP’s grand tasting in San Francisco (January 30) even I needed a good five hours to slowly pace myself in order to collect notes on barely a hundred zinfandels, before my palate (and entire body) finally cried uncle.

One thing I do need to say, especially to zinfandel naysayers: tasting big zins is not especially hard. Even average quality zinfandels offer plenty enough juicy fruit qualities that cushion the palate just fine, despite average alcohol levels of 15%. Aficionados of pinot noir, cabernet sauvignon, syrah, or Australian,, French, Italian or Spanish red wines need hardly hold up their noses; since when you actually look at those types of wines being produced today, you see that those wines are now averaging over 14% alcohol, too – not much different than your typical modern day zinfandel.

Besides, the reason why red zins taste best at closer to 15% alcohol is simple: that’s when the grape’s decadent fruit and tingling spice really begin to pop and, yes, zap you upside the chin with all the natural goodness of the grape (or as Mae West said about her diamonds, goodness had nothing to do with it…).

Part of the time at this past year’s ZAP I happened be tasting with a wine lover born and raised in France, who confessed to having a hard time with the sheer size of the best zinfandels and their “difficulty with food.” Well, I certainly can see that, if your diet and eating habits are still basically French. Here in the U.S., we don't eat in parsimonious courses, and make no bones about loving, say, our barbecued meats slathered in sticky, smoky, spicy, sweet, even sour edged sauces; and there’s hardly any French wine that goes well with that. We need our big, sweet, spicy red zinfandels!

Another nice thing about good ol’ American zinfandels: everyone has their favorites; and aside from those that say “Turley,” there really is no hierarchy of prestige brands fetching ridiculous prices because of the wanton lust of overweening collectors. Zinfandel lovers are truly a democratic, workingman’s, red loving lot.

Thus, my favorites most certainly wouldn’t correlate with that of another zin lover’s, but more power to the both of us. Like most true-blue big zin lovers, I love the unabashed excess of fruit as well as alcoholic power of today’s zinfandels; but as a classicist at heart, my favorites invariably retain a sense of balance, multi-layered texturing, and qualities of buoyancy and length on the palate as well. Call me a sissy, but I look for a little more besides wham-bam-thank-you-m’am when the push comes to shove.

There is no reason, to my way of thinking, why a good zinfandel can’t deliver as much as 16% alcohol’s worth of intensity, along with some grace and finesse. As a matter of fact, I think that the following most certainly do:

Pruning old zin vines in Dry Creek Valley

2005 Carol Shelton Maple, Dry Creek Valley – Since the turn of the century, Carol Shelton has emerged as California’s high priestess of old vine zinfandel; hers are not just “big,” but perfectly proportioned, always subtly oaked, never excessive in tannin or sweetness, yet as juicy rich as anyone’s. I crave a Shelton zin the way lonely girls crave chocolate. The Maple is bright with autumn berries, with floral perfumed notes; on the palate, balanced, velvet textured fruit qualities fill a medium-full body with a rare air of elegance.

2006 Carol Shelton Wild Thing, Cox Vineyard, Mendocino – Here, wild cherry is mixed with blueberry concentrations in an explosive nose; there is size aplenty, yet the alcohol (15.5%) alcohol) and muscular tannin is the last thing you notice, as the round,, wild berry flavors roll through the mouth in waves of sweet, elegant sensations.

2007 Tres Sabores, Napa Valley – Winemaker/proprietor Julie Johnson has been truly on a roll with her mastery of her old vine plantings, tucked into a slope on the western edge of Napa Valley’s Rutherford District. What is unique about Tres Sabores is its pungent clove and cinnamon spice notes, ringing in the bright raspberry/blackberry aromas; on the palate, moderate tannin buttresses a medium weighted body, holding the luscious, spiced berry flavors close to a smoothly textured vest.

Julie Johnson at 2010's ZAP in San Francisco

2007 Macchia Adventurous, Amador County – Macchia specializes in exuberant yet finely crafted Lodi sourced zins, but this one from Amador is pinpoint, elegant, claret-like in style; its silken layers teeming with blackberryish fruit; firm yet fresh, animated, and deftly balanced through a smooth finish.

2007 Carol Shelton Rocky Reserve, Florence Vineyard, Rockpile – The Rockpile AVA, defined by 800 to 2,000+ foot elevation slopes located north and west of Dry Creek Valley, east of Lake Sonoma, yields good sized zinfandels of hillside concentrations, somewhat elevated acidities and leaner profiles; translating in the bottle to wines of extremely unusual length and buoyant mouthfeels without the fat, plodding feel that typifying even the best California zins. Shelton’s announces itself with a low key yet glowing, harmonious array of blackberry, raspberry, crème de cassis, peppercorns and smoky roped tobacco aromas; progressing into a crisp edged, tightly wound medium-full body, uncoiling its silken, multifaceted fruit and spice sensations in dramatically long, sinewy, finely delineated fashion.

2007 Mauritson Rockpile Ridge, Rockpile - Rockpile sourced zins, in fact, often fool you; coming across as tight and restrained in the nose, then turning around and releasing layers upon layers of thick, lively, zesty sensations that go on and on in the mouth. Mauritson’s Rockpile Ridge is a perfect example: once you get past a modest raspberry concentration in the nose and a wall of fisted tannin on the palate, the fruit evolves into bouncy, bang-a-gong flavors, prickling the palate, then spreading out and finishing with a big, bright, and velvety smooth feel.

Mauritson's Rockpile plantings

2007 Rosenblum, Rockpile Road Vineyard, Rockpile – Rosenblum has established its rep on big, roly-poly zinfandels. Dyed-in-the-wool zin-bibbers adore it, non-zinners abhor it, and to each his own, right? Yet it’s fun to see how this winery’s style squares with fruit from the high elevation Rockpile region. Although they’ll pick at a couple degrees more Brix than, say, Carol Shelton, and end up with a degree or two more alcohol (usually around 15.5% for Rosenblum, as opposed to 14.5% for Shelton), Rosenblum’s Rockpile is structurally firmer (like muscled toned fat, rather plain fat), and less outwardly sweetish, than its two dozen-plus other zinfandel bottlings. The ’07 delivers of blast of blackberry jam in a liqueur-like nose; and on the palate, the wine really kicks in with full, velvety, glycerol textured flavors, long and fluid, floating (to paraphrase Dylan’s Leopard Skin Pillbox Hat) like a mattress balancing on a bottle of wine.

2007 Gamba, Moratto Vineyard, Russian River Valley – This old vine bottling (planted in 1920) yields a luxurious mélange of ripe blackberry, plum, smoke, blackpepper and allspice in the nose; these qualities holding up in equally compelling doses in the mouth, filling out a big, zesty edged body, as thick and rich as black chocolate. Stunner.

2007 Acorn Heritage Vines, Alegria Vineyards, Russian River Valley – Ah, the joys of 100-plus year old Sonoma vines; field mixed, as they were, with upwards twelve other varieties (in the Alegria, including large percentages of Petite Sirah and Alicante Bouschet, along with vines identified as Carignane, Sangiovese, Syrah, Trousseau, Petit Bouschet, Negrette, Muscat Noir, Cinsault and Grenache). Whatever the case, it is what it amounts to that counts, and this one is a doozy: positively rich, multifaceted aromas of blackberry, raspberry, smoky mocha coffee, pods of vanilla and cracked peppercorns; and all of these flavors tucked into a velvety, buoyantly balanced medium-full body, finishing with zip and persistence.

2007 Bella Vetta, Jack’s Cabin Vineyard, Rockpile – At every ZAP you are bound to “discover” something new, and this was a thrilling find for me: a focused blackberry nose laced with baking spices; fleshing out even further on the palate with a solid, meaty, bouncy feel, bursting from the seams of its smartly sized, medium-full body with the fresh berry pie flavors.

2007 Rosenblum, Planchon Vineyard, Contra Costa – Oodles of blackberry jam on toast, with sides of smoked bacon, in the nose; on the palate, velvet textured entry, leading to big, thick, fat feel, hardened in the middle by sturdy tannin, while finishing lush and juicy.

2007 Cedarville Estate, El Dorado – Located 2,500 feet up in the spectacular mountain setting of the Sierra Foothills, this vineyard has produced equally spectacular zins on a consistent basis during the past decade. The varietal profile here is of fresh raspberries handsomely wrapped in pungent espresso-like smokiness; and on the palate, not only is the feel lush, round and juicy, but also thick with tannin adding a dense, musclebound feel, lightened by a good acidic zip.

2008 Robert Biale, Verozza Vineyard, St. Helena, Napa Valley – The wine world owes much to the efforts of Bob Biale, whose masterful bottlings of old vine zinfandel have more than justified the preservation of these heritage plantings, even in the face of the relentless cabernezation of the Napa Valley. Wines like the Verozza Zinfandel – from “old warrior” vines approaching their hundredth year, still tended by the grandson of founder John Varozza – need to be appreciated for their historicity and rarity (barely 250 cases produced each year), but even more so for their pure, full fledged qualities: beautifully sweet, flowery scents of boysenberry and blackberry tinged with faint whiffs of old cigar boxes; balanced medium body, teeming with vivid, fresh, limpid berry flavors, veiled in silk and bright, intrinsic acidity.

2007 Rock Wall, Sonoma County Reserve – In early 2008 Kent Rosenblum sold his namesake winery to the beverage giant, Diageo; and he now concentrates on Rock Wall in partnership with his winemaker/daughter, Shauna Rosenblum. It’s a brand new family affair, and this bottling bodes very well: blasting off with pepper and chocolate studded, floral scented raspberry notes; transitioning into lush, ripe, fleshy flavors anchored by underlying tannin and sweet oak, caressing the palate with undulating textures.

2007 Valdez Family, Quinn Vineyard, Dry Creek Valley – Trayfuls of fresh, plump raspberries flood the nose with sticks of cinnamon and blackpepper; and while the expectations on the palate is for sweet sensations of the same, the feel is actually tight and cohesive, with sturdy tannin and zippy acidity doling out the sweet sensations in long, finely finished layers, suggesting elegance and balance rather than the usual plain tubbiness.

Master zin grower, Ulises Valdez

2007 m2, Soucie Vineyard, Lodi – This artisanal Lodi producer seems to have the touch; taking ultra-ripe, juicy, jammy qualities typifying old vine Lodi vineyards (the Soucie Vineyard was first planted in 1916), and crafting them into something finer, longer, more elegant than what is usually found in this delta region, without sacrificing the power or pure exuberance. The ’07 starts with fragrant, violet-floral notes, and then wraps the sweet jammy fruit in silken packaging, soft and transparent on the palate.

2006 Starlite, Alexander Valley – Never expect giant sized zinfandels from this modest estate; but rather, exceptionally fine, upbeat, silky textured wines of moderate weight and zesty edge, belying a sheer intensity of bright raspberry perfume underscored by cinnamony spice notes. It is precisely these restrained qualities that has made Starlite the “in” zin of choice in rarified restaurants like San Francisco’s La Folie and Michael Mina, and New York’s Alain Ducasse, Daniel, Veritas and Gramercy Tavern.

2006 C.G. di Arie Southern Exposure, Shenandoah Valley – Vinified primarily from the 140 year old Grandpére Vineyard, this concentrated wine leads off with pungent aromas of blackberry cake meshed with dried black cherry, licorice, smoke and cedarwood; the same sensations, thick and sinewy on the palate, the lush fruit flavors wound tightly by strapping tannin and sweet, toasty French oak.

2007 Klinker Brick, Lodi – Where else but in Lodi can you still find $16-$18 zinfandel with all the stuffing of zins from other regions going for twice the price? This wine is one juicy fistful of blackberries, lush and drippy on the palate; rich, round, and fruit driven directly to the sweet spot of any zin lover’s palate.

Love of zin is set in stone at Starlite Vineyard

Pinot notes: the Russian River Valley surge

2009-12-10T20:03:00.001-07:00

I was in Sonoma County for two weeks at the end of November/beginning of December ostensibly to study the fantastical Rockpile AVA, 800 to 2,200 feet up high above (to the north and west of) Dry Creek Valley. My notes on the two and half days spent up there soon to come…

The Middle Reaches of Russian River along Westside Rd.

But of course, why go anywhere to do one thing? I took this to be as good a time as any to also catch up on some Russian River Valley vignerons. Pinot lovers, remember the Russian River? Yeah, yeah, we’re all enthralled by the seemingly ethereal wines from the so-called “true” Sonoma Coast (enjoyed a fabulously deep ’07 Fort Ross Pinot Noir at Carneros Bistro last Wednesday night, as a matter of fact). Sta. Rita Hills and the Willamette and Santa Maria Valleys can all lay claim to be pinot’s “promised land,” and the new fangled noirs from Santa Lucia Highlands and Marin are definitely turning our heads.

How does that old Lovin’ Spoonful song go? Did you ever have to make up your mind…

But like the black haired, slightly slanted dark eyed beauties in the long, leathered black gloves André Tchelistcheff used to always talk about, the pinots of the Russian River Valley continue to grow on us, even as her face is filled out by encroaching maturity, the curves rounding with increasing tenderness, the eyes more knowing, the scent more intoxicating, and the lips more scarlet, more Johannsonish than Johannson… the gold standards of American pinot noir are not so much back, they’ve never really left us, haven’t they?

The following are notes on what I consider my favorites (I’d sooner “rate” wines higher or lower than I would my four kids and three grandkids), based upon some winery stops, but mostly upon an extensive tasting of twenty-five pinot noirs assembled in the office of the Russian River Valley Winegrowers by Marketing Manager Lee Hodo (thanks a grape bunch, Lee!).

Although the bottles in the RRVW tasting were laid out for me to see, I deliberately averted my eyes to taste without knowing exactly which pinot was what. Sitting down with me were Eric Luse, owner/winemaker of Eric Ross Winery (also a professional photographer, re the photo to the right); Mike Sullivan, winemaker/partner of Benovia; and John Suacci, proprietor/grower of Suacci Carciere Wines.

The ones I’m most excited about:

2007 Baker Lane, Ramondo Vineyard Sonoma Coast Pinot Noir – By listing this first, I’m not saying this is the greatest thing since Bob Marley. I’m just saying it happens to epitomize what I love most in pinot: a purity of fruit and terroir (as opposed to oak or other manipulations), and extreme delicacy (so I love waifish femininity, what of it?). Owner/grower Stephen Singer, and his winemaker Steven Canter, grow biodynamically, subscribe to natural yeast fermentation, and age strictly in puncheons (more neutral, double-plus sized barrels) to achieve their minimal interventionist ends; which here, is a lusciously sweet, focused, penetrating, strawberry jammin’ perfume, a silken fine, twiggy, low slung, swaying curvaceousness, and sumptuous pinot expression enunciated with a tart edged tongue. A preview of the ’08 from the same vineyard revealed the same, but with even more feelin’ (the yield from Ramondo down to 8 tons, compared to 12 in ’07). N.B.: although the label says Sonoma Coast, the vineyard (which sits across Baker Lane, just outside Sebastopol, from Singer’s home estate; the latter planted exclusively to syrah and viognier) is technically in the Russian River Valley in a subsection of the AVA often identified as Laguna de Santa Rosa; however, it’s the foggy, maritime chill of Baker Lane’s microclimate that prompts Singer to exercise the overlapping Sonoma Coast moniker for this bottling.

In Stephen Singer's Baker Lane kitchen

2007 Dutton Goldfield, Dutton Ranch/Freestone Hill Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – For partner/winemaker Dan Goldfield, the hits just keep on comin’. Freestone Hill lies apart from the rest of the Dutton plantings in the far southwest corner of the Russian River AVA, in a frigid pocket also known as Salmon Creek. During a harrowing, breakneck drive-by last spring, Goldfield talked about a Freestone spice, muttering pinot imagery like star anise and caraway the way Dylan raps free-form in Subterranean Homesick Blues. In my notes, I jotted down a more vaguely defined (but distinctive) smoky spice, along with phraseology like concentrated super-strawberry and ultra-raspberry a flavorist would like, tacked in velvet upholstering, and a sweet rush of round and juicy fruit followed by a tight finish wrapped in corded tannin. When it comes to pinots like this, as the bard himself said, youdon’tneedaweathermantoknowwhichwaythewindblows.

2007 Roessler, Widdoes Vineyard Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Of all of Roessler’s yearly pinot gems (I’m also partial to Roessler’s La Brisa and Ollie & Hazel’s Block bottlings), the Widdoes probably exudes the most Russian River Valley opulence: the finely delineated fragrances – of cinnamon stick spiced cherry, wild red berries and cola/cocoa seams – wafting from the glass and penetrating the nostrils, stunning the palate with a combination of enthralling fruitiness and silken fine texturing; powered further by crisp acidity and round, thickening tannin, lending a spectacular kick to the fruit intensity, deep into the compelling finish. From a Green Valley vineyard positioned in the cool corridor between Graton and Occidental; owned by Shirley and Don Widdoes, and planted in the early ‘90s (and still farmed) by the Dutton family.

2007 Williams Selyem, Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Honestly, I try hard not to be impressed by modern day Williams Selyems, given the difficulty of obtaining them for most of us peons (yes, you must be on the WS List). But a spade is a spade; and in the world of pinot poker, the queen of spades trumps all: in the ’07, a nose billowing with sweetly concentrated, liqueurish strawberry/raspberryish perfumes garnished with pepperminty spice and wisps of tobacco-smoke; and on the buds, the intense fruit riding on silken fine, yet improbably sinewy and snappy, sensations, energizing the pinot fruit qualities through a long, palate freshening finish.

Suacci, Sebastopol Hills (photo courtesy of John Suacci)

2007 Suacci Carciere, Suacci Vineyard Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – LIke Baker Lane and Dutton’s Freestone, Suacci is couched in the coolest, southernmost reaches of the AVA, in a sparsely planted region that has become known as Sebastopol Hills (also, Blucher Valley), incorporated into the Russian River Valley AVA only in 2005. In any case, this vineyard seems to whip up dreamy pinot fruit with grace and ease: sweet strawberry notes with sprigs of wild mint and smoke of oak and cooking spices (I found cardamom and cumin, but I could’ve been hallucinating). A soft, velvety entry gives way to rounded tannin and zippy acidity in the middle, not an impediment to the red berry flavors surging fluidly across the palate towards a lush, almost sweet finish.

2008 Dutcher Crossing, Maboroshi Vineyard Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Speaking of hallucinogenics, the Maborishi (Japanese for “extraordinary vision”) has recently become a magical name for pinot devotees; nestled, as it is, in Sebastopol Hills on a 400-600 ft. elevation hillside that clears fairly quickly of the dense fog rolling daily up through the Petaluma Gap. I’ve yet to taste a pinot from this vineyard that wasn’t at least a little extraordinarie. The fact that Dutcher Crossing actually specializes in Dry Creek Valley zins and cabernets, yet still can conjure up small quantities of pillowy pinots as a divergence is almost proof of that. Leading off with fraise-like wild strawberry perfumes unfettered by bombastic oak, the luscious, sweet berry flavors seem to hone in on the palate with unerringly harmonious intensity – think Captain Kirk and company, setting their low-amperage electrical guns on stun – penetrating clear through a wall of sturdy tannin and medium weighted body, the deep pinot flavors flowing through the clean cut crevice. End result: I’m told that Dutcher Crossing’s winemaker, Kerry Damskey, describes this wine as “so soft and fine you want to crawl into the glass.” Beam me up!

2008 Eric Ross, Saralee’s Vineyard Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Standing on a neighboring knoll last week, I felt compelled to snap a shot of the postcard pretty Saralee’s (275 acres farmed by Rich and Saralee Kunde, scions of the Sonoma Valley Kundes), located on the edge of the more climatically moderate “Middle Reach” of the Russian River AVA, west of Fulton, north of River Road off Slusser (adjacent to Sonoma Cutrer and Russian Hill Estate). The rounder, riper, plumper styles of Russian River pinot have always been associated with this area; which of course, is fine and dandy with most pinophiles who’ve cut their teeth on Russian River styles of the past (who’s going to turn down a Rochioli, a Westside Williams Selyem, or an old school Joseph Swan or Dehlinger?). Ross’s is floral and flush with wild berry fruit (suggesting perky raspberry and brown spiced cranberry) laced with Christmas candy (or peppermint canes). The plush flavors gravitate to the wine’s soft, round center, giving a fleshy textured feel, the fruit driven sensations mingling with soft pedaled smoky oak in an easy finish.

2007 De Loach, Maboroshi Vineyard Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – In case word hasn’t reached you, there have been exceedingly encouraging changes at De Loach since Boisset Family Estates took over the properties in 2005 (the De Loach family setting up camp across Olivet Lane at Hook & Ladder): much of the vineyards replanted and converted to Biodynamic™ farming, and the focus placed squarely on pinot noir, in line with the family’s Burgundian lineage (the most notable of their pinot focused French domaines include Bouchard Aîné, de la Vougeraie, and their new, ultra-exclusive JCB label). Stellar pinot specialist Greg La Follette (of Tandem) has served a consulting role, although recent winemaking responsibilities have been placed primarily in the hands of Brian Maloney (coming from Balleto in ’03). While waiting for their replantings to mature, De Loach has continued to fashion a Russian River Valley OFS (a sweetly cinnamoned, meaty pinot in ’06), their Green Valley pinots have been brilliantly perfumed, and their Sonoma Stage Vineyard cuvée from Sonoma Coast a lovely essence of pinot spice (incense and peppermint); but it is their Maboroshi bottlings that have been raising the most eyebrows: in ’07, positively lip smacking, plush and plump with strawberry scented pinot qualities tinged with allspice, the brightly fruit driven mouth-feel negotiated through a crisp, deftly balanced length of medium body.

Russian Hill Estate, pre-blue hour in autumn

2006 Russian Hill, Leras Vineyard Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – On Russian Hill’s knoll near the east bank of the river before it starts to wind westward towards Guerneville, the coastal fog banks creep in through both the river and up from the Petaluma Gap well to the south. Hence, diurnal swings are tilted more towards ample sun, producing a pinot of ample fruitiness, fat with wild blackberry and cherry fragrances, tinged with peppermint tea spices mixed with toasted nut tones, amplified further by a smack of smoky oak. On the palate, it follows as a nice, fat Middle Reach style of Russian River pinot; the fruit sweet and delectable, unfettered by firming tannin.

2007 Benovia, Bella Una Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Winemaker/partner Mike Sullivan’s extensive prior experience with Russian River pinot includes Hartford Court’s glory days (late ‘90s, early 2000s), and his Bella Una is an artful blend of fruit from the slightly warmer Middle Reach, the fairly cool climate Green Valley, and the even cooler climate Laguna de Santa Rosa subsections of the Russian River Valley; as it were, mixing plump, juicy black and red berries with cherry fragrances and smoky oak nuances, manifested as soft, lush flavors supported by round tannins. Structurally finesseful, yet simultaneously warm and friendly.

2007 Sequana, Dutton Ranch Green Valley of Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – The Dutton farmed properties in Green Valley give a pliant, orbular, balanced style of pinot noir; and in the hands of winemaker James MacPhail (who also makes bang-up Sonoma Coast and Anderson Valley pinots under his MacPhail Family label), the fruit is bright, sweetly scented (strawberry/cranberry), yet grounded on a proportionate base of sturdy tannin and wiry acidity.

2007 Gary Farrell, Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Multi-vineyard sourced, this is something of a crafty expression of the Russian River Valley pinot profile of olde (at least in my book): transparent ruby red; more aggressively oaked varietal qualities of smoky spice, red berry and black plum perfumes; and a medium-full body, somewhat broad and seductively sculpted by the soft, scented fruit textured with reams of oak and unobtrusive tannin.

2007 Moshin, Lot 4 Selection Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – One of things I’ve been most pleased about recent tastings of Russian River pinots is the apparent moderation of oak; as if there is less compulsion to please certain critics obviously swayed by those qualities (I think it was Kermit Lynch who once related the obsession with oak with men who like really large breasts). Whether this has to do with unconsciously maturing skills, an industry trend, or the attitude that critics and scores are mattering less and less, it doesn’t matter: I like it; and if you do, too – cool. Moshin’s Lot 4 skirts the edge between the recent fruit focus and sweetly vanillin, toasty, smoky oak embellishments more common than not in Russian River pinots of the previous millennium. The oak char is distinct, but supportive of exuberant cherry/berry qualities; thickening the tannin laced medium-full body somewhat, yet allowing the wine to finish round and pinot-ish.

2007 Picket Fence, Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – Here the smoky oak is more prevalent, yet harmonized with a lush generosity of red berry perfume; the pinot fruit qualities plopping on the palate with a silk shrouded gushiness, before firm tannins tighten the middle and wrap around the sweet fruitiness. Sourced from the winery’s Green Valley Vineyard.

2006 Derbès, Russian River Valley Pinot Noir – The product of Champagne, France born winemaker/proprietor Cécile Lemerle-Derbès, this a chubby style of pinot, brimming with strawberry, cherry and licorice spice, with smidgens of toasted oak and burnt leaf peeking out from underneath. Tannin is moderate, so the bright fruit is allowed to brim over the palate, finishing long, lush and easy.

RRVG office (photo courtesy of Eric Luse)

Cabernet sauvignons past & present, and the foods we love to eat with them

2009-10-06T16:53:00.007-06:00

I’m absolutely sure that every wine professional who cut his or her teeth on California cabernet sauvignons from the seventies and eighties remembers things differently. For me, it’s still like yesterday, since these were the days when, for me, blind and double-blind tastings ruled the day. We didn’t “score” wines then (I obviously still don’t, to this day… an unnatural act then, and even more unspeakable now!), but we did rank them, and discussed them for hours and hours at a time.

During perhaps the most interesting years, when the seventies transitioned into the eighties, California cabernet sauvignon was evolving into a richly aromatic, yet round and elegantly structured style of wine. The models then were the older classics like Beaulieu’s Georges de Latour Private Reserve – invariably, everyone’s ideal – along with then-newer classics like Robert Mondavi’s Reserve, Ridge’s Monte Bello, and Stag’s Leap Wine Cellars’ Stag’s Leap District (the latter, fresh off its “victory” in Paris in 1976).

At the turn of the eighties the cabernet sauvignons of Silver Oak, Joseph Phelps, Laurel Glen and Jordan were still fairly new “upstarts”; and our judgements of them, invariably mixed, but generally positive. We found that Chappellet, Freemark Abbey, Chateau Montelena, Sterling, and even the vaunted Heitz often rendered interesting, if aggravatingly inconsistent, cabernets inviting as much debate as dismay. On the other hand, Caymus’ Special Selection was already carving out its iconoclastic niche, Beringer was just beginning to get its act back together again, and Mayacamas typified a growing number of hillside growths appealing to those who didn’t mind inky black wines of gaudy girth, destined to never grow up (we knew that, even then).

The great André Tchelistcheff, Beaulieu Vineyard

These times were particularly interesting for guys like me, making repeated trips to the West Coast to witness an industry undergoing dramatic change: most significantly, the steady cabernezation of Napa Valley (out with the chenin blanc, zinfandel, riesling, et al.), the transitioning of vines from the old California sprawl to incomparably more efficient vertical or horizontal shoot positions (in my mind, the single biggest factor effecting transitioning styles in the bottle), and everywhere you looked, the appearance of chardonnay, pinot, merlot, etc. in fields where only cow pies, orchards and woodlands once existed.

But you know what I liked best about the years before and after the turn of the eighties? These were good days for working sommeliers because California cabernet sauvignons were still largely seen, and presented as, ideal “food wines” – full and rich enough to satisfy true-blue red wine lovers, yet soft and fruit-forward enough to drink with a wide range of dishes. Even when young – you could take home most newly minted ultra-premium cabernets and enjoy them guilt-free that night!

In stark contrast, it was red Bordeaux that was criticized for being more of the wines that you collect rather than drink: hard, largely green and underripe, typically severe with tannin and even excess oak – very food-unfriendly, especially in youth. Indeed, these were rough times for many of the Bordeaux grand crus, just beginning to reassert themselves after a string of lean or tough vintages going back to the sixties, and the painful transition from a generation of neglectful proprietors, many of them still coasting on the region’s reputation (with little incentive to embrace viticultural and oenological advances).

In 1984 the Democrats (what’s new?) were fighting among themselves, asking "where's the beef?" Which was exactly what I thought when I first read the polemic by Robert M. Parker Jr., who suddenly emerged with his Wine Advocate magazine to declare: "The wonderful excitement of California Cabernet Sauvignons that existed in the '70s, largely as a result of daringly bold, interesting, individualistic, rich and flavorful wines, has been replaced by blandness and dull uniformity...

"A major problem," according to Parker, "is that everyone wants to make a 'food wine,'" which are "nothing more than lean, boring wines with little flavor interest or character."

Parker, of course, was to become far more famous, and influential, than me. But I’m sorry to say, even at that time I thought that what he was saying was basically dumb, for a number of reasons:

1. With the obvious technological advances in the field and wineries, and increased plantings of blending grapes like merlot and cabernet franc (real work with malbec and petit verdot is still to come, to this day), there was no way that I could see California cabernet sauvignons becoming “bland” or “dull.” Where Parker saw weaker wines, I saw increasingly more complex, layered wines.

2. Of course, we could all see what Parker was about in the eighties: cabs that were “awesome,” boasting “gobs of fruit” and other exaggerated qualities. No wonder, I thought, he couldn’t see the evolving complexity: cabernets of the early eighties were getting too subtle for him!

3. Besides, who says the cabs of the seventies were so “great?” True, there were glimpses of greatness in unusually kind vintages, like 1970 and 1974; but during the rest of the decade, when Nature was not so forgiving to cabernet growers and their unruly plantings, most cabernets represented the flawed efforts of an industry still growing into itself: when not green or vegetal, cabs that were raisiny-ripe, fat or awkward; when not dull or washed-out cabs vinified by indifferent winemakers, cabs that were extracted to excess with palate numbing tannin and oak by over-reaching winemakers. To me, this was more typical of cabernets in the seventies: largely uneven quality, with only occasionally (or accidentally) something to write home about.

Despite the myopia of Parker and his growing minions, California’s cabernets continued to improve just fine into the mid-eighties, thank you. Mondavis, BVs and Jordans became more Mondavi-like, BV-ish and Jordanesque (i.e. increasingly elegant, rather than heavy handed, in scale and proportion). Caymus SSs, Beringer Private Reserves and Phelps Insignias became even more emblematic of their respectively big, muscular yet poised styles; while cabs by Heitz, Freemark Abbey, Stag’s Leap and others continued to lurch between dirty/leathery bottlings and moments of either brighter or duller fruit definitions (in other words, dependent upon the shaky skills of their winemaking teams rather than deliberate stylistic choices).

Meanwhile, by the mid-eighties, newcomers like Niebaum-Coppola’s Rubicon, Dominus, Groth, and Dunn began to heat up with wines making most cabernets from the seventies look puny by comparison; while others like Shafer, Opus One, Spottswoode, and Etude explored more elegant parameters, notwithstanding the clamor for high scoring behemoths. Point being: by the mid-eighties it was plain to see that cabernet sauvignon specialists were taking bold individualism to the next level; setting the table, as it were, for the onslaught of small production, over-the-top styles we would see throughout the following decade.

With the increasingly crowded field, of course, came 100 point scores, which helped stoke interest in the steady proliferation of cabernets. But at what price? The big negative: pushed along by retailers (we restaurateurs never sold by numbers), consumers became conditioned to buy according to scores, rather than taking the time to develop their own taste. Who’s to say, for instance, that you might prefer a Honig over a Stag’s the same way you might enjoy a Dan Brown more than a James Joyce, Dumb & Dumber more than Citizen Kane, 50 Cent more than Charles Mingus, an In-N-Out burger more than a Capitol Grill bone-in… you would never know if you governed your life by what other people tell you rates a higher “score.” If anything, numerical scales have stunted the growth of at least a generation of wine enthusiasts.

Thank goodness, almost all of us have been conditioned to appreciate fashion, films, books, food, music, cars, and virtually all other things involving as little as a pinch of aesthetic choice, without having to rely on the judgement of a few tastemakers, communicating by one set methodology. But when it comes to wines, I’m ashamed to say, most of us have been complete pansies, plain and simple; despite the simple fact that even moreso than other aesthetic interests, the appreciation of wine is highly individualistic, dependent as it is on sensory perception of sensations that are elusive at best, and often illusionist (i.e. perceived through power of suggestion).

Then again, the inability of wine lovers to function as free thinking individuals hasn’t been the only casualty of Parkerization (and, I suppose just as much, Spectator-related symptoms). Numerical ratings may have “helped” consumers the way paint-by-numbers helps someone understand art, but the more literal price we have all had to pay has been the turning of limited production cabernet based reds into “cult” wines, appealing to the base needs of spendthrifts willing to shell out $100, $200, or over $300 a bottle for Screaming Eagle, Scarecrow, Dalla Valle, Bryant Family, Harlan, Colgin, Araujo, Leonetti, Quilceda Creek, et al. All beautifully sculpted wines, mind you; but sadly, priced in gross disproportion to their actual quality out of sheer demand generated by the mindless mania for numbers.

But wait, as they say, there’s more. whatever happened to the notion of cabernet sauvignons that are just as suitable for food as for oohing and ahing? The irony, of course, is that the market today is still dominated by the same proportion of ubiquitous brands made in the lean, light style Parker was decrying twenty-five years ago. For every big winner, there are always at least twenty also-rans. But to me, lightness has never necessarily inferred food compatibility – like saying, every Democrat has a warm heart, or that all beautiful people are good in bed. If a cabernet is lean and boring by itself, it is usually lean and boring with dinner.

But when cabernet sauvignon is good, it is not just rich and full of the concentrated, cassis-like berry and smoky oaked characteristics associated with the varietal, it automatically invites fun food matches by sheer nature of its intensity and balance. Why? Because it is always easier to match food with wines that are balanced with a plethora of fruit or flavor interest, rather than a whole lot of nothing.

Case in point: in the late nineties, I once saw Madeleine Kamman (who for years presided over Beringer's School for American Chefs) whip up some breasts of chicken stuffed with green peppers, chicken sausage, and (of all things) pineapple, serving this in a cabernet shallot deglaze with a five year old Beringer Reserve. I had no idea how even tropical fruit, merged cunningly with bell peppers (a flavor element found in super powered cabs), could play up a young, boisterous cabernet's fruitiness while smoothing out its tannins, but it did... or in a recent parlance, wham!

Granted, not everyone can magically transform chicken into a cabernet match like Kamman. For most of us, a safer bet with, say, a Napa Valley cab is a Friday night beef stew or a restaurant prime rib; but come on, where’s the buzz? The better cabernets of today may be massively endowed, but they are also coming with increasingly more flavor and textural complexity to match multi-faceted dishes. Let’s talk about those wines; but before that, some basic thoughts on cooking for cabernet sauvignon:

IDEAL CABERNET SAUVIGNON FOOD MATCHES

• It’s no relevation that cabernet sauvignon is basically a red meat wine (particularly lamb and beef, although venison and bison also fit the bill); although simply plopping protein on a plate is not enough, because there may be no tougher match for a young, tannin loaded cabernet than a lean cut of red meat (like filet mignon) cooked to a well-done dryness (like washing down shoe leather with black, bitter coffee). If you’re cooking for a full bodied cabernet, you need to give its tannin either fat or natural juices to sink its teeth in, or else other bitter compounds such as cracked peppercorns (all colors), mustard seeds or horse radish to help balance out, and smooth over, the drying, bitter taste of tannin.

• The char of wood grilling can help balance both tannin and toasty oak qualities in aggressive cabs (smoked salts, or even subtle use of liquid smoke in mild marinades, may also work in this fashion).

• A good idea is grilling or pan frying with scented herbs that mingle pleasingly as notes of similarity with the natural green herbal qualities (in cabernets, the methoxpyrazine referred to as IBMP, or 2-methoxy-3-isobutylpyrazine) underlying even the ripest bottlings; particularly, thyme, savory, sage, marjoram and rosemary.

• The underlying IBMP of cabernets also identifies well with fresh mint, dill, olives, and bell peppers (all colors), while woody spices like nutmeg, mace, juniper and allspice mix well with cabernet spices tinged by oak aging.

• Richly fruited cabernets also respond to sweet seeded fruits like plum, blackberry or cherry despite the residual sugar (one simple method: after cooking while allowing meats to rest, finishing pans with a splash of cabernet, the juice of dark fruits, some beef or veal stock and pads of butter).

• For sautéing, the aromatic holy trinity of garlic, shallots and butter contrast effortlessly with cabernet flavors.

• Excess sweetness in sauces and dressings (for gamy birds like squab, pigeon, duck or goose) will only accentuate tannins to dry, bitter effect; yet use of just moderately sweet fruit will highlight the berry complexities of more concentrated cabernets.

• The simplest example of combinations of cabernet friendly components in a dish is a cheeseburger loaded with Cheddar (darker, firmer aged cheeses match the deep quality of cabernets better than young, sour, white or blue veined cheeses), roasted mild chiles (touches cabernet’s green notes), and ketchup augmented with Tabasco (another chile note) and rounded out (i.e. sharpness reduced) with mayonnaise and/or Thousand Island; and of course, at least 80% ground beef for suitable fat content.

• Mildly bitter vegetables (especially when grilled) like eggplant, endive, Chinese broccoli, summer squash, and zucchini might round out cabernet sauvignon on a plate and in the palate; while green beans, peas, celery root, spinach, fennel, and other herbal nuanced vegetables can play off a cabernet’s herbaceousness.

• If you’re incorporating mushrooms, use the “wild” varieties; preferably darker, stronger, earthy, meaty mushrooms (like morel, shiitake, porcini or portobello) that are friendlier to full bodied reds like cabernet sauvignon (avoid truffles, except when cooking for the most mature cabernet based reds – at least, fifteen, twenty years old – that have developed organic aromas).

• As with the biggest of white wines, chardonnay, you can only ask cabernet sauvignon to go so far with foods that incorporate sensations that are pointedly sweet (as in Port or Madeira sauces, or Asian style syrups), sour (use of sharp vinegars or goat cheese), hot (not just excess chili seasonings, but also heavy-handed garlic and ginger root), or salty (soy sauce and blue cheese) – cabernet is not your ideal Asian or tropical “fusion” wine!

• Finally, if a cabernet is especially young, heavy, and laden with oak and tannin, unrestrained use of butter or cream (like, say, blending a pint of sour cream into a sauce) might skew the match towards bitterness; the same thing for slow roasted meats (especially if sweetened by carrots and onions) that develop caramelized sugars, making a tannic cabernet taste harder and dryer.

• The older the wine (fifteen or more years for West Coast cabernet sauvignons, twenty or more years for reds like Médoc crus), the more subtle, and umami-clever, your use of cabernet food components need to be.

MATCHING FOOD WITH CONTEMPORARY CABERNET SAUVIGNONS

By no means has the evolution of California cabernet, especially in Napa Valley, been one gloriously straight, ascending line. Trellising and canopy management helped open up vines, reduce herbaceousness, and highlight sweet fruit components in the cabernets of the eighties, but it took more replanting in the nineties (initially in response to the influx of phylloxera) to lick other persistent issues, like over-ripeness (leading to soaring alcohol, flabby textures and pruny flavors) and harsh, uncontrolled tannin – problems, in retrospect, that were not atypical of even the ballyhooed cult cabs of the nineties. Further shoot positioning, shoot and leaf thinning, cover cropping, micro-managed deficit irrigation, more sustainable soil management, rethinking crop loads, and redirecting of entire rows and vine spacing have all been part of the work that has brought today’s cabernets into finer balance, with rounder mouthfeels and more focused varietal definition.

So here’s a rundown on some of these contemporary cabernet sauvignon based reds, along with some food thoughts:

Selene's Mia Klein

Selene, Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

For me, Mia Klein’s Selenes have emerged as paragons of power and saturated fruit sumptuousness, while by no means timid in color, tannin or oak – everything draped in dense, velvet robes. Klein, of course, has left similar marks on several vintages of Dalla Valle (even the cabernet franc dominated Maya, every bit as explosive as pure cabernet sauvignons), Araujo and Viader during her career as a consulting winemaker: a track record of wines that put seamless textural feel above all other qualities, without sacrificing one iota of intensity and generosity. Interestingly enough, on more subdued levels I’ve found that Cathy Corison’s Corison cabernets have shared similar qualities; but perhaps even moreso, you’ll find the same magnificently deep, round, fleshy characteristics in the cabernets of Neyers, crafted for many years by Ehren Jordan (Neyers’ Conn Valley âme, for instance, is an essence of liquefied velvet).

So what do I do with a cabernet like Selene (or for that matter, a Corison’s or Neyers’)? Because it’s one of the rare ultra-cabs that tucks its tannin beneath its textured fruit, it’s one of the few that does well with leaner cuts of beef (especially pillowy tenderloins) sauced in cabernet tinged demi-glace. You could settle for that, or infuse the sauce with a purée of roasted sweet red peppers to beef up the varietal character. But if you really want to take a chance, pan sear the tenderloin with thyme, deglazing with cabernet, demi-glace and, instead of butter, pads of a triple crème like Explorateur or St. André in order to juxtapose green herby notes with a creamy texture, reflecting the sumptuousness of the wine.

Mark Neal (with son, Zachary)

Neal Family Vineyards, Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

The beauty of Beaulieu Private Reserve stretching from the sixties through the nineties (the vintages I’m familiar with) was its commitment to a sort of an elegant composure: concentrations of blackcurrant fruit kept lush and velvety instead of tough and tannic, dense and muscular rather than fat and soft, and rich and compact as opposed to big and blustery. Well, we might have to enjoy just the memories of that now, since a tastings of recent vintages of BVs seem to signal a subtle yet significant movement towards a bigger, more opulently fruited, vigorously tannic, generously oaked style more in tune with contemporaries, perhaps reflective of the inevitabilities of corporate ownership (the winery now run as part of the spirits conglomerate, Diageo).

Or, we can turn to the judiciously crafted coterie of cabernets now being culled from Mark Neal’s meticulously cultivated CCOF certified organic vineyards in Rutherford, Howell Mountain, Mount Veeder and Atlas Peak. While aromatically and structurally representative of their respective AVAs, Neal style cabernets share common traits of seamless, smoothed textures, and noses that emphasize sweet, organic notes of the varietal fruit above other qualities.

From Rutherford, for instance, Neal’s Wykoff Vineyard bottlings are strikingly graceful – moderate in weight, and seductively forward in shriveled blackcurrant, cassis-like perfumes… recalling Andre Tchelistcheff’s analogies of dark Russian princesses in long, black, soft leather gloves. From an east-facing slope going up Howell Mountain, Neal’s Fifteen-Forty flashes a workout devotee’s sinewy bicep, yet sensuously curved, sweet blackberry sensations embedded in glycerol and nuanced smokiness. From a much rockier hillside site, the Neal Second Chance Vineyard is a fully endowed, masculine package of mint, blackberry, bell pepper, herbal tea, steely acid and gripping tannin, yet still chiseled to an exacting, marbly smooth finish.

Who else is fashioning such distinctly delineated cabernets? Not too many, since today’s prevalent style is towards denser “wall of flavors” -- as if everyone wants a Phil Spectorized wine that can shout it from the mountain or from rivers deep. However, Quintessa seems to at least strive towards that velvety, moderately weighted, BV inspired style, albeit in the chocolate-covered-blueberry guise unique to its hilly Rutherford estate. By virtue of its own steep site, Viader has established a strong record of cabernet sauvignon dominated blends, typically made up of violets and chocolaty cherries wrapped in silk and tied in leather stringed tannin. I’ve recently enjoyed an ’05 Gamble Family Home cabernet sauvignon that displayed a fairly even keeled array of cassis, blackberry, green pepper, mint and dusty olive qualities, and an ’05 Honig Mitchell Vineyard that came layered with framboise and mint, proffered on a throne of tannin with taut velvet upholstering.

Otherwise, I’m scratching my head, wondering where the compositional approach has gone; especially since these are the cabernets that are perhaps the most versatile on the table. If you like an herbed (i.e. herbes de Provence) or pepper crusted tuna steak, for instance, a Neal Family cabernet is round and fleshy enough to enhance rather than obliterate it; especially if finished with, say, a deglaze of cabernet, green peppercorns, veal stock and butter. Ditto for wok charred strips of beef with peppers, onions, meaty mushrooms, beef stock, and smidgens of soy and cabernet – it has to be an elegantly rounded wine to match this unfussy yet cab-friendly meal.

Otherwise, the mint and pepper notes of these rich yet soft edged wines are naturals for the most natural cabernet sauvignon match of all: mildly gamy lamb -- like chops rolling in a hot buttery pan with green herbs like rosemary, or else finished with juicy plums or berries.

Levendi Winery, Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

I’m singling out this brand among the tangle of new fangled Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon producers of recent years not because it’s destined for greatness – the winery’s stated goal of producing soft, immediate drinking styles of cabernet will never earn it “monumental” scores – but because its wines represent the high toned, lusciously sweet, almost zinfandelish abundance of fruit qualities a Napa grown cabernet can attain, given the vineyard technology of today. This is as opposed to just ten, twenty or thirty years ago, when a soft, drinking style of cabernet meant something either dull or bland (i.e. the Christian Brothers, Charles Krug and Louis Martini cabs of olde) or pungently bell pepper-green (you may associate this with big production regions like Chile, but it’s been just as common a theme in ubiquitous California brands like Simi, Carmenet, Estancia, and Robert Mondavi).

The wines of Levendi, owned by an Orange County partnership, are the product of Alison Doran, whom longtime California wine lovers will remember as Alison Green, the former André Tchelistcheff protégé (in the seventies at Simi with Mary Ann Graff, and then at Firestone in Santa Barbara). Doran does craft full sized single vineyard bottlings built upon strong firmaments of tannin; but like her blends (particularly Levendi’s Symphonia), even the Levendi Sweetwater Ranch (100% cabernet sauvignon from a 1,000 foot-plus hillside on the eastern side of Oakville) is characterized primarily by an effusive nose and fruit forward mouthfeel suggesting mixtures of wild cherry, blueberry jam, blackberry or cassis, and sweet, leafy chocolate mint.

What’s the big deal? For food purposes, I’ve found that it’s cabernets like these that are big enough to handle leaner, chewy, voluminous meats like venison and bison, yet sweet toned enough to balance the aggressive preparations common to these meats – like mildly sweet marinades, fruit compotes, or hard spices like juniper and clove.

Sure, such wines are performing the same culinary roles that big zinfandels, or syrahs and petite sirahs, easily fill, but are usually destructive when involving cabernet’s usual hard edged tannin. But if you enjoy sweetly marinated red blooded game, but prefer the minty, cassis-like character of cabernet sauvignon – well, here’s your wine.

For well past thirty years, of course, the cabernet sauvignons that epitomized fruit forward intensity have been those of Silver Oak; and while as popular as ever, the winery’s continued devotion to pungent, extended American oak regimes are bound to keep its appeal decidedly within its own niche. A similar “drinking” style of Napa Valley cabernet sauvignon, sweetened by generous doses of French oak, are those of Cakebread Cellars, which dial up upbeat, sweet toned flavors well above fine-grained tannins (even their Howell Mountain grown Dancing Bear Ranch tends to favor spiced plum and dried fig fruitiness over structural strength). And from further south in Paso Robles, Justin Isosceles has garnered a strong following with its tautly balanced yet lush, liquid, fruit bomb style of cabernet sauvignon driven blends.

On the even more serious side, the newly resurrected Ghost Block Estate (owned by Bonded Winery Number 9, in Oakville across Hwy. 29 from Mondavi) offers similar sensations of distinguishably sweet mint amidst whole bushels of berries. The voluminous, densely structured cabernets of Rudd Winery are usually just as precocious in Christmas pie-like varietal fruitiness. The cultish Peju Reserve is no girly-mahn, yet its profile is appealingly fruit forward, going for lavish opulence while maximizing rounded mouthfeels. Nothing wrong with any of that, especially if you have a penchant for wildly flavorful meats that are enhanced by fruit sensations in the wine as much as dish.

Robert Sinskey, Los Carneros Marcien (Napa Valley)

Rob Sinskey affectionately dubbed his top-of-the-line blend (merlot/cabernet sauvignon/cabernet franc) Marcien – French for “from Mars” (or, “you must be crazy”). Sinskey says he calls it Marcien because when the winery first planted Bordeaux grapes in Carneros (a cold region with shallow clay soils rather than the deep gravel and moderate climate associated with Bordeaux), some people said they were nuts.

Needless to say, everyone loves that crazy guy with the dirty coat who finally gets the girl. Investing Carneros real estate to Bordeaux varieties may have been certifiable, but there’s nothing weird about a Bordeaux inspired blend except for the fact that Sinskey’s effort is genuinely deep and delicious – fulfilling the promise of that dubiously named concept, Meritage™. Although I find most California Meritage™ reds as exciting as five hours of bad Italian opera, in the Marcien there is a truly dramatic melding of contrasting varietal characteristics: beginning with a merlot base that is properly plush and plump, knit to the black, wild, plummy, licorice, gnarly tobacco and smoky room qualities associated with the cabernet grapes.

The good news is that Sinskey is not the only one finally making something out of this style of assemblage. Napa Valley’s John Skupny, who has been perfecting the art of cabernet franc during the past decade with his Lang & Reed Premier Étage, has recently come out with a new animal called Right Bank (53% cabernet franc/30% merlot/9% petit verdot/8% cabernet franc) which, for all the world, is one of the few wines outside of Saint-Émilion that recalls a graceful Canon-la-Gaffelière, or a wildly tender La Mondotte – gathering black cherry, blackcurrant and crushed mint into a perfectly round yet densely woven potable.

Meanwhile, well under the radar, on the other side of the Petrified Forest in Alexander Valley, Dave Ready Jr. has been engineering Bordeaux style blends at Murphy-Goode Winery with almost ridiculous ease; including a bright, silken, Pomerol-ish Wild Card Claret (53% merlot, with cabernet sauvignon, cabernet franc and petit verdot), plus an even richer All In Claret (58% cabernet sauvignon asserting blackberry and framboise concentration, riding on velvet qualities of merlot and compact, steely underpinnings of petit verdot).

But of course, since the Murphy-Goodes are from Sonoma, they are but naïve domestic blends, amusing in their presumptuousness. As proprietary blends go, anyone would be remiss not to remark on the Napa Valley classics; such as laudable consistency of the fabled Joseph Phelps Insignia – a winemaker’s chef d’oeuvre, if there ever was one. But in accordance with the original conception, a Bordeaux style blend should be more of a meditation on a single estate, rather than a representation of a winery’s wealth of varied vineyard sources. In that respect, I’m compelled to mention the remarkably deep, broad, magnificently sculpted series of wines fashioned by Pamela Starr as Crocker & Starr Stone Place (in recent vintages, predominantly cabernet sauvignon) from the heart of the Crocker Estate in St. Helena. In my mind, Stone Place sits right up there with Dalla Valle Maya (with its notably large proportions of cabernet franc), the rarified Araujo Eisele, Christian Moueix’s Dominus Estate, and the increasingly more ferocious (at least in recent vintages) Rubicon Estate. In any case, the aforementioned five appear to be the most serious of the Napa Valley growths planted to Bordeaux grapes today.

Maria Helm's braised veal shanks

Intricate wines might call for intricate dishes, but we can’t all be Julie and spend six hours laboring over a Julia Child recipe. Rob Sinskey happened to marry an extremely talented chef named Maria Helm (formerly of San Francisco’s Plumpjack Café), who’s smartly tailored this cook-ahead recipe for braised veal shanks with olives and bay leaves to take full advantage of the way a round, viscously textured Bordeaux style blend coalesces with the gelatinous richness achieved in slow cooked meat. In fact, any variation of classic osso buco that dispenses with heavy use of tomato (but instead, focusing on natural reductions infused with cabernet friendly herbs like dill or thyme) would work in the same way.

Julie Johnson

Tres Sabores, Rutherford Perspective Cabernet Sauvignon (Napa Valley)

By now you can see my theme of highlighting cabernet sauvignon based reds that are less likely to garner that cover on the Wine Spectator; but which, to me, represent the direction we are seeing the grape going towards today. Well, at least where I hope it will go, which is further back into a future…

Speaking of which: no winemaker has been more closely associated with Rutherford than the late André Tchelistcheff, whom I first interviewed in 1983. At that time there were about 4,000 planted acres in Napa Valley (there are nearly four times that today). Said Tchelistcheff, in his usual Russian inflected, convoluted terms, “California’s best red wine is cabernet sauvignon… within the 450 acres that we used for Beaulieu Vineyard, I had only 40 acres that was able to produce Private Reserve… after 43 years of experience, I can locate just specific sections, specific physical and chemical constitutions in the soil, that can create great cabernet.”

Years later, in 1992, I met Tchelistcheff again, seated next to him in a double-blind tasting. Between flights I took the chance to ask about the latest viticultural advances in Napa; particularly new trellising technology and canopy management, resulting in claims that even better and greater quantities of great cabernet sauvignon might be produced. Suddenly the bushy brows over those famous eyes began to dip like dark clouds, as he issued his rebuke: “That is rubbish – you should not believe everything you read! Technology or science alone can never replace natural elements… Mother Nature is still in charge, and it is Mother Nature who expresses her wish that great vineyards should grow only so much wine, and no more... there is more cabernet sauvignon being grown in Napa Valley than ever before, but there will never be more than a few cabernets of true Private Reserve quality.”

History, of course, has shown that Napa Valley can very well produce much more top quality cabernet sauvignon; but perhaps because I was weaned on BV Private Reserves, I still found myself picking those BVs “first” in blind tastings, even as recently as the ’99 vintage. So, for me at least, Tchelistcheff has always been correct.

Which is why Tres Sabores, a tiny (12 acres) Rutherford estate, begs discussion. As a vigneron, Tres Sabores’ Julie Johnson doesn’t have that legendary cabernet éclat associated with Tchelistcheff, Tony Soter, or even Mia Klein. The name Johnson doesn’t have the golden glow of an Abreu or Melka, nor even the making-of-a-cult moniker of a Celia Masyczek. What she does do is generate a cabernet sauvignon that is dry farmed on her home at the western edge of Rutherford – wooded and beset with wildlife – where everything that lives and breathes is an extension of Johnson’s sustainable (and CCOF certified) outlook. The result is a cabernet sauvignon that is as powerful as any, but with a natural, organically defined length, balance and buoyancy: dusty blackberry and dried plum aromas tinged with cedar and rose petal/star anise-like spice; the body, medium-full (not gigantic), dense, chocolaty rich on the palate, with the plush velvet (or what Johnson calls, “scarlet carpet”) rolling-pinning over the muscular tannins, as the wild fruit flavors shoot into a tubular finish.

Diving further in, it’s that sense of restraint that ends up extending the wine over the palate, and the sweet plum and almost Chinese-y spice, that identifies the Perspective as a classic Rutherford style (as opposed to that of, say, Oakville, or any of valley’s hillside AVAs) of cabernet sauvignon. It’s also probably the slightly wild, bucolic edge that specifically makes it tres Tres Sabores, rather than To-Kalon, BV #2, Napanook or Eisele: if this were France, the word terroir would be the first thing out of your mouth.

That’s what I see as a present and future of California cabernet sauvignon: wines issuing forth not so much qualities of the grape, or the halo of a numerically blessed winemaker, but rather that sense of place Californians always say they’re looking for, but usually don’t bother trying to find because they figure you aren’t interested.

But if you’re up to the challenge of appreciating such a wine, an equally organic combination of earthy, fatty and creamy sensations that a wine like Perspective can wrap itself around is in the following recipe, recently shared by Chef John Broening of restaurants duo and Olivea in Denver. Like tearing off your cabernet predispositions, it would require some work, but in the end that revisionist outlook just might set you free:

Gnocchi with Pig’s Feet Ragout and Chanterelles (serves 4)

Advisory: best to do this dish in three stages, starting with the pig’s feet, as they need to soak overnight. The next day, make the gnocchi and set them aside. Then bring it on home with the chanterelle laced ragout.

Pig’s Feet
4 pig’s feet, soaked in water
1 tablespoon canola oil
salt and pepper
1 onion, sliced
1 carrot, sliced
2 cups white wine
4 cups chicken stock

Remove pig’s feet from the water and pat dry. Season with salt and pepper. Brown thoroughly in ½ the canola oil and remove to a baking dish. Preheat oven to 300 F. Sweat the onion and carrot in the remaining canola oil. Add the wine and reduce by half. Add the chicken stock and bring to a boil. Pour the chicken stock mixture over the pig’s feet. Cover with foil and bake about 3 hours, or until the meat starts to fall away from the bone. Remove the pig’s feet from the liquid. Strain and degrease liquid. Pick the meat off the pig’s feet (you should get about ¾ cup of meat). Return the meat to the liquid and refrigerate.

Gnocchi
4 Yukon gold potatoes, cleaned, unpeeled
1 cup (about) kosher salt
3 cups all-purpose flour, plus
4 large eggs
1 teaspoon ground black pepper
1/4 teaspoon ground nutmeg
2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

Heat oven to 350 F. Spread about 1-3/4 cups kosher salt on a small baking sheet. Place the potatoes on top of the salt. Bake about 2 hours, or until the potatoes are soft and cooked through. Meanwhile, in a mixing bowl, whisk 2 cups of the flour with 2 teaspoons salt, the pepper and the nutmeg. Bring a large pot of water to a boil. Place a wire pasta basket in the water, and add about 4 tablespoons of salt to the boiling water. Cover the pot until ready to use.

Working while the potatoes are still hot, peel them with a paring knife (holding the potato in a kitchen towel makes this a little easier.). Using a food mill with a fine disc or a potato ricer, pass the potato onto a work surface that is at least 2 feet wide by 2 feet deep (wood and marble are the best for this).

Make a well in the potato and break 4 eggs into the well. Place the mixture in a circle surrounding the potato mixture. With a fork, whisk the eggs together. Using a bench scraper, cut the egg mixture into the potato and flour and gentle knead the mixture until it comes together. Using a little additional flour, knead the mixture an additional 20 seconds.

Cut off a few ounces of the gnocchi dough with the bench scraper and with lightly floured hands roll into a rope about 12" long and 1/2" around. Cut off into equal sized pieces about 1/2 square, pinching each piece at the same time. Roll each gnocchi off a floured gnocchi board (or the back of a fork), and using an offset spatula carefully transfer to a floured baking sheet.

Cook the gnocchi in several batches: using the spatula, carefully lower the gnocchi into the boiling water and cover. When the water comes back up to a boil, cook the gnocchi about 2 minutes, until they puff slightly, and immediately shock in ice water. Repeat the process for the remaining gnocchi. Drain the gnocchi well (make sure they are completely cool in the center before you remove them from the ice water). Place the olive oil in a mixing bowl, toss the gnocchi in the oil, then transfer to baking dish (they should be in a single layer), cover, and refrigerate until ready to use.

Ragout
4 tablespoons olive oil, divided
1 pound chanterelle mushrooms (other wild mushrooms okay), cleaned
4 tablespoons butter, divided
2 shallots, minced
1 cup dried sherry
3 ounces grated Parmigiano Reggiano
1 tablespoon chopped parsley

In a large sauté pan, heat half the olive oil to smoking and add the chanterelles. Toss well and add half the butter. Cook until lightly caramelized. Season with salt and pepper and add the shallots. Sweat 30 seconds. Add the sherry and reduce until thick. Add the pig’s broth and meat and reduce by half. Check for seasoning and set aside.

To assemble dish: In another large sauté pan, heat the remaining olive oil. Brown the gnocchi on one side, in batches when necessary. Add the pig’s feet ragout and bring to boil. Whisk in the remaining butter. Garnish with grated Parmigiano and parsley, and serve immediately.

Still crazy good after all these years: Oregon's Cristom Pinot Noirs

2009-09-24T20:02:00.012-06:00

When I asked winemaker Steve Doerner how his approach to winemaking has evolved over the past twenty years when I visited him at Cristom Vineyards this past August, he confessed, “I’m almost embarrassed to say that I haven’t changed much at all. I guess you can say I’ve grown comfortable with my ways.”

From most vintners, that statement might set off alarms (lord knows, I’ve been in enough wineries of long standing, chatting with vintners left sadly behind the times). But from Doerner, this was actually music to my ears. You see, we first met in 1989, towards the end of his fourteen year stint as winemaker for Calera Wine Company in San Benito, working with ultra-ripened pinot noir and chardonnay grown by Josh Jensen.

While Calera’s wines may never have been to my taste (I’ve always found them overly alcoholic and ponderous – a byproduct of a warm climate terroir, not any winemaker’s doing), I distinctly remember being astounded by what Doerner was doing there: applying 100% natural yeast and whole cluster fermentation, wines pressed and going “dirty” directly into barrel, zero filtration, and at all times, bare minimal handling – techniques considered not just brazen, but downright foolhardy by the convention of those days, even among the more cutting-edged producers (like Merry Edwards, David Ramey, and Chalone’s late Richard Graff) of the time.

Doerner was doing then what many winemakers today still haven’t caught up with.

Cristom pinot noir at veraison

And by gosh, last month I heard Doerner repeat the same thing I heard him say way back when: “Never try to do anything to pinot noir that you aren’t sure won’t work.” Then, as now, Doerner professed faith in time honored methods of Burgundy –plenty enough empirical evidence even for him (Doerner’s degree at U.C. Davis was in biochemistry). But of even Old and New World “innovations,” like pre-fermentation cold soak and post-fermentation maceration, Doerner has never felt a need. Then, as now, he repeats, “with only wild yeasts to do the work, whole clusters take a little more time to get started, and fermentation within individual berries takes even longer. So in a way, there is extended contact because of the sheer length of fermentation (between 14 and 21 days), with the different yeast strains working at their own pace.”

Now, you may have heard in some quarters that this whole thing about native yeast fermentation is mostly marketing hokum because wineries who do this usually have a history of commercial yeast usage (therefore, most “wild yeast” fermentations are probably the work of cultured yeasts, since all previously used yeast strains tend to remain in the air and on the surfaces of every winery).

So it was with great interest, in 1992, when I read about Doerner taking the job as winemaker for the newly founded Cristom Vineyards in Willamette Valley. You can bet, in November of 1993, that I beat a path to the door of Doerner’s new home, my ears stinging by the onslaught of Oregon winter. So many questions, especially:

How does a winemaker, basically trained in California, adjust to Oregon grapes, and much cooler Oregon terroirs?

What would be the effect of Doerner’s previous methodolgy (i.e. natural yeasts, whole cluster, minimal handling and zero filtration) on Oregon grown pinot noir, or would he be forced to make changes?

In 1993, as now, I was pleasantly surprised to find Doerner not only applying the same principles as before, but making wines of greater power and focus than ever; only, with the finesseful attributes of Oregon grown fruit. Regarding native yeast fermentation: no problem. “Stuck” fermentations, green “stemmy” tannins or other related issues? Obviously nada, as Doerner tasted me on barrel after barrel of Cristom’s first wines: clean, young, sturdily structured yet lush, supple pinots. Ergo: the veracity of natural yeasts is not, after all, a myth hoisted upon us by the French. Given the chance, the yeast strains that appear naturally on grape skins out in the field do just fine in the winery, and by vignerons like Doerner; especially when you begin with whole clusters (at Cristom, generally about 50% of the fermentation vats in warm, ripe years like ’06 and ‘03, and closer to 30% in cooler years like the ’07 and ‘05).

But as always, it doesn’t matter what a winery does, or doesn’t do, if the results in the bottle aren’t worth their salt. In Cristom’s case, I think they’re better than ever. In past vintages, tasted five-ten years back, I confess to not being 100% enthusiastic about every one of Cristom’s pinots; finding some bottlings hard, or unforgiving, in tannin and toughness. But in recent years, I’ve come back to being almost always mightily impressed: pinots of strength and sinew, but also languorous, sultry textures and perfumes – like Audrey Hepburns in black silk, pearls, and wispy smoke from the long platinum cigarette holder.

General impressions after tasting through barrels of ’08 (overall: bright, beautifully scented, crisp and finely structured pinots) with Doerner last month, followed by newly released bottlings of ’07.

Cristom (red roof) from above; Jessie, the reverse-Idaho shaped block to left;
Marjorie, straight up, just above tree break

Now here are some things to write home about:

Cristom, Marjorie Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills) – Cristom now identifies six different sites (or “Ladies”) on its 65 acre estate; yet never prone to hyperbole, Doerner says that “terroir exists, but we need more data points.” Even so, the Marjorie is Cristom’s oldest section (planted in 1982), with the highest percentage of Jory type soil (the mineral rich, red toned volcanic soil, also associated with Willamette Valley’s Dundee Hills AVA), given to a decidedly feminine structure and perfume, scented with the redder berry characteristics of the grape. In the ’07, these qualities comes across as thickly textured, with a good bottom grip of tannin, while dancing, zesty acidity brightens the profile, finishing with sweet sensations of red berries and cinnamoned rose petal nuances.

Cristom, Jessie Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills) - From Cristom's steepest, rockiest site with multiple exposures and shallow soil, primarily composed of the brownish volcanic clay in the Nikea series. In this slightly more stressed medium the pinot ripens variably, resulting in a generally darker complexity of red fruit; and what's more, in rich concentrations. The nose in the '07 is jammy sweet, bright, richly oaked, almost wild with blackberry, raspberry and dried cherry skin; the flavors electrified on the palate by the sheer intensity of the fruit, bursint out of the sturdy, fleshy structure thickened by the polished oak.

Cristom, Sommers Reserve Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley) - The Sommers are generally blends of “favorite” lots selected for extended barrel aging from the Eola-Amity Hills estate, with smaller proportions of coastal and Dundee Hills cuvées, resulting in artful distillations of the multi-faceted house style: in the ’07, masculine, meaty, and well muscled, centered around round, fleshy qualities steeped in sweetly floral, predominantly dark fruits, backed by polished oak, draped in velvet textures.

Cristom, Signature Pinot Noir 2005 (Willamette Valley) – In this crème de la crème bottling: the full, strapping masculinity that is invariably found in a Cristom is all here, in spades; beginning with a dense, round, buffed body gripped by sinewy tannin, fleshed out to overflowing with concentrated, velvet lined fruit, perfumed by wild blackberry, raspberry and cherry cola, deepened by smoky oak, peppermint spice, and organic nuances of crushed brown leaves. Only the third vintage (after ’98 and ’04) of a Signature pinot produced by Cristom since its inception in 1992.

The green wars part 2 (organic, Biodynamic® & sustainable tasting notes)

2009-09-22T23:13:00.009-06:00

Here’s the lowdown on some of the more notable – if not fantastic – organic, Biodynamic®, and sustainably grown wines tasted during (and just after) my most recent jaunt (August 2009) through the West Coast. For an explication of the green delineations, please refer to previous pieces on The War Between the Greens and A Consumer’s Precise Guide to Going Green:

REDS

Seven Springs Vineyard, Celebration Gamay 2008 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Employing nouveau vinification, but a far cry from the usual: vivid purplish ruby followed by teems of sweet blackberry (like the gushy wild fruit we were picking off the sides of the road during our entire two weeks in Oregon) and raspberry aromas; round, luscious, drippy in a zesty center; the sensations soft, yet dense enough with mild tannin to give a little bit of grip on the palate.

Seven Hills Vineyard, Walla Walla Valley, OR

Seven Springs Vineyard, Les Gamine 2008 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Passetoutgrains inspired blend of authentic gamay (60%) and pinot noir; but again, because of the sheer, gorgeous intensity of this vineyard, more like a passetoutgrains of your dreams: vividly defined rouge on noir berry perfumes in complex, nuanced nose; marvelous interplay of zesty edge and silk/velvet textures, the luscious berry fruitiness emanating brightly on the palate. Utterly unique, compelling.

Seven Springs Vineyard, La Source Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills; noncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Oregon pinot noir lovers have been enthralled by this vineyard for years; and although, since being purchased by Evening Land Vineyards, its grapes are no longer going out to artisanals like Penner-Ash, Cristom and St. Innocent, rest assured that in the hands of French born winemaker Isabelle Meunier and über-consultant Dominique Lafon, Seven Springs pinots will be better than ever. The proof is already in the bottle: beautiful, luscious, fragrant array of rose petal, anisey spice, wild red berries, and blueberry jam in the nose. Velvety smooth entry leading to long, sweet flavors, anchored by sturdy tannin, solidifying the fruit once past the mouth-watering middle.

Maysara, Delara Pinot Noir 2006 (McMinnville; Biodynamic® grapes) - Given its unique locale at the furthest western, coastal edge of the Willamette Valley – strongly influenced by cooling winds pushing through the nearby Van Duzer Corridor – the McMinnville AVA is already associated with pinot noir of exhilarating breadth, more steely structured with acidity and tannin than pinots from the rest of Oregon. Delara is perhaps the most terroir driven of Maysara’s cuvées: its dense, fullsome body elevated by lively acidity, while amplified by its luscious, pungent fruitiness – sweet raspberry and strawberry jam infused with peppermint, pepper, and anise/licorice nuances.

Maysara winemaker, Tahmiene Momtazi

Maysara, Estate Cuvée Pinot Noir 2008 (McMinnville; Biodynamic® grapes) - Slated for fall 2009 release, this cuvée shows the fully ripened, sweet fruit, silk texture, zesty edge, and moderated alcohol typical of this vineyard, as well as the bright qualities of this cool yet trouble-free vintage. Unfettered, wild strawberry in the nose, expressed in vibrant, fruit forward sensations on the palate, gliding clear through firmly defined tannins.

Stoller Vineyards, SV Pinot Noir 2007 (Dundee Hills; LIVE sustainable grapes) - This is one of the deeper toned pinot noirs coming out of this AVA, associated as it is with reddish fruit forward pinot profiles, and an outstanding one at that. Here, the red berry perfume is laced with brown spices and faint, composted earth qualities; on the palate, a fine, long, feminine body underlain by sinewy tannin, giving savory, nuanced flavors, suggesting raspberry tea, smoky spices, and caramelized oak.

Cristom, Jessie Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Eola-Amity Hills; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Geez, can Oregon Pinot get any richer? The nose is jammy sweet, bright, richly oaked, almost wild with blackberry, raspberry and dried cherry skin; the flavors electrified on the palate by sheer intensity of the fruit, bursting out of the sturdy, fleshy structure thickened by the polished oak.

Cristom, Signature Pinot Noir 2005 (Willamette Valley; uncertified sustainable grapes) - Winemaker Steve Doerner has stuck to his guns over the past twenty years – applying 100% natural yeast, whole cluster (50% in riper years, closer to 30% in cooler years like` ‘07) fermentation, zero filtration, and minimalist handling – and has honed it to perfection. The full, strapping masculinity that is invariably produced is all here in a dense, round, buffed body gripped by sinewy tannin; fleshed to overflowing with concentrated, velvet lined fruit, perfumed by wild blackberry, raspberry and cherry cola, darkened by smoky oak, peppermint spice, and organic nuances of crushed brown leaves. Only the third vintage (after '98 and '04) of a Signature pinot produced by Cristom since its inception in 1992.

Bergström, Bergström Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Dundee Hills; Biodynamic® wine) - Quintessential Dundee Hills style, redolent of sweet red berries, flowery and lacy over the rim; but it’s on the palate that this wine really shows its stuff – a plump, soft entry transitioning into a velvety, lush, round, medium-full middle, the red berry sensations fleshy, supple, pliant to the touch.

Bergström, de Lancellotti Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Chehalem Mountains; Biodynamic® wine) - Vivid violet-ruby color, nearly just as deep at the rim; the nose mixing wild blackberry and cherry, less floral than its brethren bottling from the Dundee Hills, but given a dense, gripping, substantive feel on the palate, under an artistically delineated layer of softly sweet fruit.

Beaux Frères, Beaux Frères Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Of this meticulously farmed jewel crowning the Ribbon Ridge AVA, the most significant thing I can report is that it is no longer laden with the tannic heft associated with max-extraction, nor with the aggressively toasted, lumbering oakiness that once gave the brand its swaggering edge. Instead, it’s metamorphosed into a sumptuous, gracefully rounded epitome of the grape. Sure, there still is a perceptively smoky oak nuance embellishing the lush nose of strawberry and wild berries; but on the palate, the feel is crisp, silky and refined rather than thick and chewy. Big Bad Bill is Sweet William now.

Beaux Frères, Upper Terrace Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - One of the discernible differences biodynamic practices have wrought on recent Beaux Frères vintages, according to vigneron Mike Etzel, is redder as opposed to blacker fruit profiles. Physiological ripeness comes at lower sugars (hence, lower alcohol and less raisiny-ripe, root beerish notes; and in response, Etzel has been exerting less punch-down, and more gentle pump-overs, to coax rather than extricate complexity. Juicy strawberry leaps from the glass of this Upper Terrace, the fruit aroma tinged with smoky spice. A round, fleshy body comes across as soft and silky; the red fruit flavors, fresh, lively, elegantly poised against this polished, yet sturdy, veneer.

Brick House's Doug Tunnell

Brick House, Les Dijonnais Pinot Noir 2007 (Ribbon Ridge; Biodynamic® grapes) - Bright transparent ruby signaling the delicacy and lacy silkiness found in the glass; the red berry perfume, singular yet fragrant, penetrating; the fruit qualities on the palate, while fine and sweet, in taut balance with mouth-watering acidity and moderated tannin against a faint backdrop of brown spiced oak, finishing long and lively.

Brick House, Ribbon Ridge Pinot Noir 2007 (Ribbon Ridge; Biodynamic® grapes) - Here the femininity of the house style reaches an extreme, with fragrances of candied red berries tinged with brown spices (suggesting cinnamon and allspice); sleek, slender, light-medium body enlivened by tingling acidity and soft, unobtrusive tannin.

Chehalem, Stoller Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Dundee Hills; LIVE certified grapes) - Lovely rendering of this classic Dundee growth; nose of sweetly concentrated dried plum and red berries, with sachet-like mix of dried rose petal, star anise and Chinese five spice perfumes; long, refined, silken medium body, intricately layered with sweet berries, polished oak, exotic spices and gently tugging tannins.

Chehalem, Reserve Pinot Noir 2006 (Oregon; LIVE certified grapes) - Decidedly masculine style: deep, bright burgundy red followed by intense black cherry aroma; juicy, fleshy fruit-bomb qualities couched in an emphatic, viscous, full body, tightened by muscular tannin.

RR, Pinot Noir 2005 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Chehalem’s upper crust, reserve quality label, culled from older sections of Ridgecrest Vineyard in the Ribbon Ridge AVA (hence, the “RR”). The ’05 is a vinous orgy: roasted bacon/meat mixed with concentrations of cherry and dried plum in the nose; huge (for a pinot), fleshy, dense and velvety on impact, becoming dense, almost ponderous, yet perfectly round and seamless in the mid-palate; the meaty, plummy, cherry bomb fruit compacted, and oozing from the center like a Whitman’s chocolate.

Domaine Serene, Evenstad Reserve Pinot Noir 2006 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Who doesn’t think of this growth as an apotheosis of Dundee Hills? It’s been consistent enough, and finer with each passing vintage. The classic, pretty red berry perfume in the ‘06 is deftly harmonized with rich, toasty oak. The handsome oak, full body and weight adding tannin do not keep the wine from being balanced and buoyant; the fragrant fruit fleshing out the middle, rolling into a sweet finish.

Cooper Mountain's Barbara Gross & Gilles Antoine de Domingo

Cooper Mountain Vineyards, 5 Elements Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; Biodynamic® wine) - Bright, purplish ruby; luscious, fruit focused nose of black cherry and plums, with bare whiffs of vanilla; good size – medium-full on the pinot scale – shaped by dense, round, thick, slightly viscous sensations; again, the flavors focused on deliciously unfettered fruit, as opposed to feminine or finesseful aspects of the mythical varietal profile.

Cooper Mountain Vineyards, Life Pinot Noir 2008 (Willamette Valley; Biodynamic® grapes; TILTH organic wine) - This is Cooper Mountain’s pure, unsulfured cuvée; in a way, experimental (only 100 cases produced), but a 100% success as far as I’m concerned. Winemaker Gilles Antoine de Domingo quips that this is for the “OCD palate,” in reference to the fruit focus incurred from minimal oak aging, resulting in the fresh, lively, mildly spiced, totally clean and bright varietal fruitiness (cranberry/cherry), couched on a bed of soft tannin. As good as it gets for unsulfured pinot.

Domaine Drouhin, Laurène Pinot Noir 2006 (Oregon; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Here and there you hear references to the “Dundee spice,” and whether it exists or is just a figment in an overenthusiastic collective imagination, there is a sweet, brown kitchen spice (cinnamon, clove, nutmeg, etc.) lending interest to the otherwise singular red berry (veering towards black) fragrance of this Dundee Hills estate bottling. The entry is soft, fine, silky; becoming tight with tannin in the middle of a medium-full body, but finishing sweet between the hardening textures.

Pali, Momtazi Vineyard Pinot Noir 2007 (Willamette Valley; Biodynamic® grapes) - Pali is housed in the “Wine Ghetto” of Santa Barbara’s Lompoc, but they do too good a job with Maysara’s McMinnville, Oregon grapes not to mention here: a sweet, lush, vibrantly aromatic, smoky spice tinged mix of red and black berries backed up in the mouth with sturdy tannins; the feel is full and dominant, yet the texturing, soft, plump, pliant

King Estate, Signature Collection Pinot Noir 2007 (Oregon; LIVE sustainable & TILTH organic grapes) - Bright, flowery, juicy strawberry/wild cherry nose tinged with light peppermint spice; accessibly soft, forward fruit flavors of the same following up in a compact, medium body with easy going tannin, finishing as softly fruity as it starts.

Ken Wright's McCrone Vineyard planting just past veraison

Ken Wright, Carter Vineyard Pinot Noir 2008 (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic grapes) - Since high demand pinot noirs are often allocated or pre-sold, it’s a good idea to get a handle on the upcoming 2008s. According to, Ken Wright, ‘08 was very cool, almost bleak, especially after a “significant rain the first week of October.” But this was followed by “twenty-two gloriously warm days that gave the grapes the opportunity to assemble everything… tremendous structure, and very agreeable, complex, delineated flavors.” The ’08 Carter is a good indicator: displaying ringingly bright, concentrated wild berry fruit tucked into densely layered textures, begging for more time in the bottle than usual for Oregon. Wright advises us to expect 2008 to be “not be as fleshy as ’06, ’02, or ’94,” but punctuated by an energetic acidity that “reminds me of ’88.”

Alma Rosa, La Encantada Pinot Noir 2007 (Sta. Rita Hills; CCOF organic grapes) - More aggressive California style nose – sun dried blackberry, caramelized oak, and brown spices – yet refined, moderately weighted on the palate despite sinewy tannin and the smoke of oak, lending chewy tobacco-like qualities to the pinot fruit.

Porter-Bass Estate, Pinot Noir 2007 (Russian River Valley; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - Luscious fruitiness of all the strawberries in the world, scented and layered between velvet textures, piquant acidity and soft, finesseful tannins.

Porter-Bass, Zinfandel 2005 (Russian River Valley; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - More of a pinot-like perfume, rather than a typical ultra-ripe zinfandel jamminess, in the nose of this uniquely fashioned wine: a pristinely fresh burst of wild raspberry, strawberry and cherry, spiced with cinnamon, clove and green peppercorn; on the palate, the juicy, briar laced fruitiness couched in a fine, medium body punctuated by prickling acidity and just mild tannin.

Amavi, Les Collines Vineyard Syrah 2006 (Walla Walla Valley; IOBC sustainable grapes) - Black purplish color unveils a powerful, plummy, violet scented nose nuanced with gunflint black tea, garrigue-like rosemary, and smoked meat aromas; big and round on the palate, the thick tannins smoothed over by the preponderance of varietal fruit.

Tyrus Evan, Seven Hills Vineyard Syrah 2006 (Walla Walla Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Seven Hills is known to many aficionados of Walla Walla Valley wines, although what’s often overlooked is that the vineyard lies at the south end of the AVA, in Oregon rather than in Washington St. (hence, its Oregon LIVE certification). Ken Wright lends his polished style to his Tyrus Evan label, all but containing the explosively ripe, floral, blue and black berry nuanced Syrah perfume; big, thick, yet round and velvety on the palate.

Saviah Cellars, Syrah 2006 (Walla Walla Valley; LIVE & IOBC sustainable grapes) - Here’s a whippersnapper: out of a purple haze, blackberry liqueur and cloved cherry compote aromas condensed into compact nose; on the palate, a dense, tannin lined, vanilla laced fruitiness with youthful, primary qualities – piquant, chewy, sweet.

Va Piano, Bruno’s Blend V (Columbia Valley; VINEA sustainable grapes) - An artfully crafted, multi-vintage blend of syrah (67%), cabernet sauvignon (19%) and merlot (14%) that hits an exact, crowd pleasing bull’s eye of lush, ripe, sweet toned, mildly spiced fruit, suggesting dried cherry and blueberry, with smoky oak and minty/herbal flourishes. While densely textured on the palate, the feel is round and plump, letting fruit wrap around its modicum of tannin to give friendly, toothsome sensations.

Beckmen, Purisima Mountain Vineyard Syrah 2007 (Santa Ynez Valley; Biodynamic® grapes) - Black purple extraction; intense, wild blackberry concentration with a floral, violet-like perfume and smoky, chocolaty suggestions; on the palate, a gushy, almost sweet fruit-bomb character, notwithstanding a thick, muscular feel; the thick tannins and oak toast playing second fiddle to the plump, youthful fruitiness.

Stolpman Vineyards, Estate Grown Syrah 2007 (Santa Ynez Valley; uncertified organic grapes) - Glass staining purplish ruby releasing a varietal perfume of sweet violet, lavender and blackberry; big, thick, densely layered body compacted by sturdy tannin, filled to the brim with meaty syrah fruit sweetened by a glycerol viscosity, powering through the smoke and tannin.

Doonster, Randall Grahm in San Juan Bautista

Bonny Doon, Le Cigare Volant 2005 (California; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - 50% grenache/24% mourvèdre/22% syrah/3% carignane/1% cinsault. Randall Grahm’s eponymous red Cigare never really went away; it just floats in and out of our consciousness with the same plump, toothsome spirit that it has the past two decades, only now with more organic (i.e. more immediacy of fruit, wrapped in soft leather) feel. The earthen brett notes thinly wrap around sweet cherry/kirsch-like fruit in the nose; on the palate, coming across with a nice, notably acidic zest, a lusciously rounded, fleshy middling weight, with soft, leather glovey tannins seeping through the layers.

Quintessa 2006 (Rutherford/Napa Valley; uncertified biodynamic grapes) - Lush, chocolate coated blueberry and red berry aroma; the fruit draped in velvet and layered over muscular tannin, wrapped in rich, toasty oak with scrubby, organic underpinnings, expanding its medium-full body.

Neal Family, Wykoff Vineyard Cabernet Sauvignon 2004 (Rutherford/Napa Valley; CCOF organic grapes) - Sweetly scented nose of shriveled blackcurrant and cassis; elegantly composed medium-full body giving velvety, soft leather qualities to the sweetly concentrated fruit.

WHITES

Ken Wright, Pinot Blanc 2007 (Willamette Valley; uncertified organic grapes) - This wine is so breathtakingly good, it makes you both laugh and cry to think of how underappreciated this grape can be. Then again, Wright does have a rarified touch; but either way, this bottling is a killer: from the Meredith Mitchell Vineyard in the coastal foothills southwest of McMinnville; exuding sweet, juicy perfumes of pear, nectarine and Santa Rosa plum; on the palate, scintillatingly crisp, fresh acidity lifts the fruit to further, liquid heights, overflowing its silky fine, long, slender, light-medium body.

Chehalem, 3 Vineyard Pinot Gris 2008 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - The finest Oregon pinot gris I’ve experienced in years; spectacularly intense tropical perfume, throwing out honeyed pear/apricot/veering-on-pineapple aromas, with notes of stony minerality. On the palate, totally exhilarating, lively, juicy fruit qualities embedded in slightly viscous, silky textures; yet just light-medium bodied on the palate, finishing with a crisp, mouth-watering exclamation.

Chehalem, Riesling Reserve 2008 (Willamette Valley; LIVE sustainable grapes) - Don’t know what exactly is going on here, but winemaker/proprietor Harry Peterson-Nedry and his team are really hitting home runs these days. The nose here is properly floral, while exuding exotic, almost stunningly unique aromas of kiwi, frangipani and mango nectar. Zesty, glittering fruitiness underlined by a whisper of sweetness (at 4% residual sugar, more of a suggestion prompted by the fruit intensity); the flavors filling the mouth, yet finishing light and refreshing.

Seven Springs Vineyard, La Source Chardonnay (Eola-Amity Hills; uncertified organic/biodynamic grapes) - Oregon grown chardonnay is rarely something to write home about; but when it’s good, it’s spectacular from the perspective of uncommon balance (crisp, harmonizing acidity) and texture (tautly wound). Here, a sweet cream, subtle oak veil is draped over a honeyed pear/apple aroma, almost tropical in perfume; on the palate, silk and cream sensations are merged with lemony crisp textural qualities, unleashing sensations of buttery apples, with a bananas Foster-like caramelized intensity. Finishes long, with an amazing, almost sleight of hand levity (just 12.8% alcohol).

Stolpman's vigneron, Sashi Moorman

Cowhorn Vineyard, Viognier 2008 (Applegate Valley; Biodynamic® wine) - This is a promisingly new Southern Oregon estate, first planted in ’05 with the help of Biodynamic® guru Alan York. Sitting in a cooler section of the Applegate AVA, the wines are probably never destined to be blockbusters except in the definition of its grapes; as evidenced by this viognier, which sings loud and clear with perfumed fragrances, suggesting sweet apple and pear with a mango-like lushness; the wine framed in a crisp, silky, medium-full body, smartly smoothed over by creamy barrel fermented texturing.

Stolpman Vineyards, L’Avion 2007 (Santa Ynez Valley; uncertified organic grapes) - 90% roussanne/10% viognier: golden straw, followed by hugely exotic nose, suggesting waves on tropical shores (mango, ginger, honeysuckle, pineapple); high glycerol gives a fleshy, almost slippery quality to the full body, jam packed by the big, buoyant, aroma driven fruit flavors.

Bonny Doon, Le Cigare Blanc 2007 (Beeswax Vineyard, Arroyo Seco; Biodynamic® wine) - 64.3% roussanne/35.7% grenache blanc. Straw gold, followed by multi-faceted nose of wet stone/mineral, creamy marzipan, slivers of pear and toasted, honeyed nuts and a drop of vanilla. Full, round, fleshy feel on the palate; dense texture giving full body filled nearly to top with juicy pear and stony sensations. Winery suggests “molecular gastronomic dishes found at über-restaurants” like “Alinea, wd-50 or El Bulli”… yeah, right (thanks, guys). More plebian matches like paper wrapped boudin blanc, saffroned bouillabaisse or mussels in tarragon and/or fennel laced broth will probably do just fine.

SWEET WHITES

Pacific Rim, Organic Riesling 2008 (Columbia Valley; WSDA organic grapes) - Not to be confused with the much larger (up to about 40,000 cases), ubiquitous, sushi associated, multi-national sourced “Pacific Rim Riesling” bottling, this is a product of hand crafting from Randall Grahm’s new facility outside of Washington’s Tri-Cities, representing a fulfillment of the Doonster’s Teutonic dreams. Coming out of one of the coolest vintages in the state (resulting in beautifully high acidities), picked at an amazingly low, yet fully ripened, 20° Brix, and vinified to 3.8% residual sugar and 10.5% alcohol, this is also one of the most Germanic medium-sweet rieslings you’ll ever find this side of the Rhine. The nose is white flowery and peachy fresh, with lemon peel nuances; the peach flavors are fleshy and viscous, tasting just slightly sweet, almost dry (amazingly) in its soft, smooth finish.

Ca’ del Solo, Muscat 2008 (Monterey; Biodynamic® wine) - Exceptional, mouth-watering acidity tilts the residual sugar towards just lightly sweet or “off-dry” (although I always thought that expression was contradictory) fruitiness. Nose is flowery fresh and only faintly musky, with peaches and cream aromas infused with whiffs of minerality; lithe, easy, crisply balanced on the palate. From the rare clonal variation, moscato giallo (or “gold” muscat) of Alto-Adige.

The beautiful Columbia from Pacific Rim's Wallula Vineyard

The war between the greens (sustainable vs. organic vs. Biodynamic® viticulture)

2009-09-20T22:00:00.003-06:00

Green wines have become more plentiful and better than ever, which is good news for all of us, and the environment.

One of the unseemly aspects of this inexorable movement, on the other hand, is the public sniping between the various sustainable, certified organic, and Biodynamic® camps; and I have to say, what’s even more disappointing are sides taken by individuals in the journalistic community (both print and online). You would think we could all be happy with the progress, no matter what paths growers and winemakers might take.

So let’s talk about this, and maybe by the end of the last paragraph we can give ourselves a group hug. First, in regards to convention: one thing you notice, traveling up and down the West Coast at least, is that very few vineyards of significance are farmed with indiscriminate use of chemicals. As recent a progression as this may be, viticulture is rapidly reaching a point where so-called conventional farming is probably more accurately defined by what is now called “sustainable”; just like 100 years or so ago, before the “miracle” of chemicals, conventional was for all intents and purposes organic (as well as celestial or spiritual), for lack of other alternatives.

As little of what I can say about what constitutes conventional today, I am not 100% sure of what to make of sustainability either; especially when you actually look at the massive workbooks put out by the various sustainable organizations, like Central Coast Vineyard Team (CCVT) and Lodi Rules in California, LIVE (Low Input Viticulture & Enology) in Oregon, and VINEA (The Winegrowers Sustainable Trust) in the overlapping AVA (Washington/Oregon) of Walla Walla Valley. Before I say anything else to raise anyone’s ire, let’s make this clear: I am truly enthusiastic about the mission of all the sustainable groups in respect to their pro-active commitments to the environment, conservation, worker safety, bio-diversity, and biological and economic responsibility. Nevertheless, take a gander at some of the synthetics approved for usage by (to use one example) LIVE: glyphosate; fenhexamid; cyprodinil; pyrimethanil; azoxystrobin; trifloxystrobin; boscalid; triadimefon; tebuconazole; myclobutanil; fenarimol; kresomix-methyl; quinoxfen; streptomyces…

Whet your appetite? The important thing to remember is that the methodologies utilized by sustainable groups are based upon complex point systems: negative points given for, say, resorting to herbicides like Roundup (a glyphosate), and positive points for planting cover crops between rows to prevent erosion, add nitrogen to the soil, and attract beneficial insects. But is this eco-friendly? From the perspective that it gives growers actual roadmaps to follow that minimize the chemical dependency of previous conventions, yes. From the perspective that it establishes a truly self-sustaining biological system… not quite as yet.

Pinot Noir at veraison (Brick House, Willamette Valley)

Sustainability, in any case, is not the same wine in a new bottle; but rather, a significantly modified one, already scoring positive points. Put it this way: if winemakers can now let their kids skip through the vines without having to wear chemical spray suits, that’s a huge plus.

What I find curious, though, are groups of sustainable proponents ridiculing organic proponents; and, certainly more easily because its spiritual side, Biodynamic® groups being ridiculed by organic groups. I’m not talking about the Santa Lucia Highlands winemaker who sat me down, opened up his CCVT workbook and patiently explained why his sustainable guidelines are just as ecologically positive, or more, than certified organic guidelines. I love that.

What I’m talking about are inflammatory pieces like “Voodoo on the Vine” published in San Francisco Weekly in November 2008, doing us the favor of exploding the Biodynamic® myth by drawing our attention to the occultish beliefs of the movement’s founder, Rudolf Steiner: to me, akin to saying that Einstein is not to be believed because he was brought up Jewish, that Ted Kennedy was not a man of the people because he toyed around in yachts, or that Monsanto can’t possibly manufacture an eco-friendly product because their executives sleep around.

While going through my usual vineyard jaunts this past summer, I came across a piece in Oregon Wine Press (August 2009) that pretty much encapsulated much of the conceit of sustainable groups that you normally catch in dribs and drabs when interacting within the industry. Authored by Evan Bellingar, a site manager for Advanced Vineyard Systems who also strongly favors LIVE, the commentary makes no bones about its viticultural sensibility: “A sustainable/conventional approach does more to protect the environment than organic or biodynamic,” and that as good a job done by the “green PR machine” (i.e. organic and Biodynamic® groups), these are no more than “marketing gimmicks at best, and harmful to the environment at worst.”

Hmmm. First of all, as more of an industry observer (albeit, a restaurateur and columnist specializing in wine these past thirty-plus years) than insider, I can say this with just as much certainty: anyone who believes that growers and winemakers who go through the trouble of working within certified organic or Biodynamic® parameters are doing so for marketing reasons is probably living in a fool’s paradise. If anything, up until recently very few quality driven producers employing organic or Biodynamic® methods were even willing to publicize that. You don’t, for instance, buy a DRC, Jean-Louis Chave, Zind Humbrecht, Alois Lageder, Rubicon, Alma Rosa, Araujo, Beaux Frères, Brick House, or even a Sokol Blosser, Quivira or Frog’s Leap because they grow organically or biodynamically. You may appreciate that fact, or think of it as a bonus. But it’s laughable to suggest that producers of that ilk hang their hat on green gimmickry to make their sales or rep.

But what of the charge that green agendas might actually “hurt” the environment? Bellingar’s beef is that “organic certification does not tell a viticulturist what he can do. It does not tell them to maintain wildlife habitat, nor encourage them to reduce pesticide applications or rates. Certified organic tells you what you can’t do: it means no synthetic pesticides were used on the crop.”

King's vineyard manager, Meliton Martinez, high on compost

When asked what to make of that, Sasha Kadey of King Estate (an Oregon Tilth certified organic estate) commented that “to be certified organic does not require us to minimize water usage, introduce raptors, provide protected animal habitat, restore wetlands, or grow our own produce for our restaurant, which we do among many other things.” Mark Neal, whose Neal Family Vineyards manages or owns the largest sum of California Certified Organic Farmers certified acres (over 1,900) in Napa Valley, adds that “pro-activity is built into organic growing,” citing examples of use of predatory mites to control pest spider mites, and seeding plow-down cover crops to add organic matter to soil. “Compared to running a conventional fertilizer through the irrigation system… (or) spraying non-organic acaracides to control mites… I would say that these two organic approaches are pro-active by nature.”

Dr. Robert Gross, whose Cooper Mountain Vineyards in Willamette Valley is Biodynamic® certified, responds that growing organically “is a lot more than chemicals-can’t-be-used… it is environmentally focused; and of course, biodynamics is even more like treating a farm as an ecosystem… as preventive medicine is to medicine, where antibiotics are used as a last resort not the first, I am afraid that the thing in the vogue is chemicals and drugs to increase quantity, rather than quality, of the target organism.”

Defending the use of low-toxic chemicals in sustainable growing, Bellingar goes on to cite specifics: like Roundup (according to Bellingar, “caffeine is 25 times more toxic than the active ingredient in Roundup… if you are worried about protecting your family from dangerous chemicals, please hide the coffee, but leave my Roundup alone.”), and chemicals designed specifically to attack fungi like powdery mildew without harming insects or wildlife (“… organic agriculture isn’t able to use these laser-guided pesticides… they rely on carpet bombing with lime sulfur, copper and micronized sulfur… would you want your doctor to eschew the last 80 years of medical science when treating your disease… aren’t you glad we have safe and effective products?”).

Bergstrom through the mist

While praising LIVE as a positive “gateway,” weaning growers away from chemicals and making them more comfortable with “more aggressive forms of eco-friendly agriculture,” Josh Bergström of the biodynamically farmed Bergström Wines in Willamette Valley glibly adds, “I would love to see Mr. Bellingar drink a nice hot mug of Roundup to prove his point.”

Cooper Mountain’s winemaker, Gilles de Domingo, begs to differ with Bellingar not so much because the low level toxicity of the glyphosate in Roundup can’t be good for anyone, but because “all synthetic herbicides are known to increase the resistance of a plant… the number of resistant species has jumped a total of 4000% between 1978 and 1998.”

Neal concurs, saying that one of the “unintended side effects” of even the latest “laser guided” synthetics lauded by Bellingar is that enhanced resistance only multiplies; which is why “any university extension agent, Pest Control Advisor or plant pathologist will request that growers alternate chemistries between materials with different modes of action such as DMI fungicide (Rally, Elite) and Strobulurin (Fling, Abound, etc.).”

Beaux Freres' Mike Etzel

Despite the cyclical pattern of even careful chemical use, Bellingar rues the fact that “there is no organic herbicide,” and “it is short sighted to risk soils that took tens of thousands of years to form with farm practices that are merely in vogue.” But by eschewing the latest advancements in synthetic weed control, Neal asks, “how are you risking a soil or soil health by not killing plants that are growing in it?” To Neal, “this makes no sense whatsoever.” He suggests tried-and-true solutions, which while carrying a green stigma, might actually do less harm: the hoe and plow, and more time in the vineyard.

Speaking for biodynamics, whatever what one may think of its homeopathic, or even cosmic or spiritual, aspects, de Domingo reminds us that the main difference between Biodynamic® and sustainable or even organic growing is that Biodynamic® “removes the notion of ‘fighting’ a disease… instead, the biodynamic farmer will enhance the good vs. the bad… if the biological system in a biodynamic farm is balanced, plants will be naturally able to resist diseases.”

Like those in the Biodynamic® camp, Alex Sokol Blosser of the Oregon Tilth certified Sokol Blosser Winery says the big plus is that “organic farming has turned us into better farmers. My bag of tricks, as Bellingar pointed out, might be limited, since I cannot use synthetic chemicals. This being the case, we have employed a lot more handwork in the vineyard, and more rigorous canopy management to help make our sprays more effective and help ripen the fruit. I have to be more pro-active, as the days of going out with a spray to eradicate an outbreak of mildew or rot are over... I must prevent mildew and rot.”

But is this enough? In recent years Ken Wright, one of Oregon’s most respected winemakers of all, has been talking about going “beyond organic,” while perfecting, with zero certification, the discipline of managing trellises, crop loads, and reinvigoration of soils through use of natural material that enhance microbial life, leading to the uptake of minerals that actually result in higher quality fruit (hence, wine).

The redoubtable Ken Wright

In fact, all these years Wright has been working in his own parallel universe, mirroring the work of soil scientist, Dr. Arden Andersen, who has been spearheading a movement actually called Beyond Organic – still another certification process, just beginning to make its way into the U.S., Australia, New Zealand and elsewhere. Beyond Organic is based upon a related concept called Biological Agriculture, which mixes in chemistry, physics, biology and microbiology to address plant pests and diseases at their root causes, while focusing on plant and soil systems made healthy without the imbalance inherent in chemical fertilizer, herbicide and pesticide use.

Nevertheless, Bellingar says that following the system detailed by Low Impact Viticulture & Enology helps you become a “better farmer,” and advises that when “you select your next bottle of wine, please choose quality and sustainability, not the latest ‘green’ buzzword.” Bergström, on the other hand, begs our indulgence more honestly, without tooting his cowhorn: “Which is the correct winemaking, and which isn’t? Can you really tell consumers that one is better than the other? In the end, their taste will trump your recommendation…”

Needless to say, levels of greenness are usually far from our determining factors. Terroir, or the combination of quality and character derived from the vineyard source(s), probably figures more into our preferences, at least among the cognoscenti. Then there is the sheer skill, and commitment, of the grower and winemaker; plus not in the least, personal taste, price, food and social contexts, and yes, even branding and prestige.

So to that end, we need to all get together and let the sustainable, organic and Biodynamic® camps know: enough with the silly, senseless nitpicking. Don’t talk to us about your “salmon safe” certificate or manure stuffed horns unless it’s directly related to the quality in the bottle; and without, mind you, one drop of chemical residue that we all know can eventually find its way into our wine, “non-lethal toxicity” be damned. Tell us about the positive things you are doing to help us enjoy finer, more responsibly produced wine, not what you think the other guy should be doing. Dig?