downcellar

Experimentation in Oregon Wine Country

2011-04-20T11:00:00.000-07:00

Yesterday afternoon was spent driving around the Willamette Valley stopping at several wineries. By the end of the day I was worn out and uninterested in trying another Pinot Noir. What kept me going through the day though was some unexpected wines that showed both the growing diversity of the wines here, and the willingness to experiment and take commercial risk on the part of wineries.

Some wines I knew about, but was taken aback by their quality and interest. Adelsheim, and Oregon wine pioneer, who is celebrating their 40th Anniversary this year, is producing on their estate one of the best Oregon Syrahs I've had. The nose was meaty and spicy, but not overwhelming, with a real juicy palate and clean finish. I was happy to see an Oregon Syrah that was approachable but also complex and balanced.

Another Oregon pioneer, Erath, now owned by Chateau Ste. Michelle, is producing a white Pinot Noir. This seems to be the latest trend; thought they were not pouring it in their tasting room while I was there, I knew that Anne Amie was also making a white Pinot Noir. This is a total geek wine - a full and rich white with great fruit and zippy finish.

Anne Amie's lineup is impressive beyond their white Pinot Noir. Their Riesling is coming from well established vines, and has a intense nose. I'm so glad to see this variety gain traction here, with several producers offering great examples including Brooks and Tristaetum. What was really surprising at Anne Amie was their set of "Stickies", a pair of desert wines made from Muller-Thurgau. The two wines are made in different styles, a late harvest sweet wine full of orange marmalade, and a fortified oxidized wine with nutty honey aromas. Both are great and unconventional wines.

My hat's off to those producers pushing the envelope. I look forward to finding more jems.

Thoughts For April

2011-04-11T15:43:00.000-07:00

I've been busy lately. Its been a busy month of April. Good things have come to pass, and I've been thinking about writing about some of them. Most importantly in my life thought is that I've come to the end of my job search. My job search was a great deal of the reason I was so busy. The "season" in wine country is gathering momentum, and I've been fortunate enough to find work at a terrific winery (I will leave it up to you to find out which - you probably wont hear me write about it here). I've also been running around trying to find an affordable car that gets good milage, which is also an epic task. Hopefully the next few weeks will be calmer than the past few. And I can focus more on writing.

Still, I have not been totally ignoring writing. Randall Grahm posted a transcript of a speech he delivered about terroir. It was very thought provoking, and got me motivated to put together my own thoughts about the subject from my architecturally trained perspective. I hope to be posting something soon.

9 Spanish Wines with New Wine Club, Part 3

2011-03-28T19:34:00.000-07:00

Time to finally wrap up the Spanish wines! I've already written about the Monastrell from Jumilla last week, which was the final wine of the evening. But before that, we had three wines made from Tempranillo - what you think of when you hear Spanish Wine. I put together three very different styles of wine to show the range of wine making practices and regional characteristics, two Rioja's and one Ribera Del Duero.

I love the wines of Rioja because they offer a great diversity of styles, based primarily on one grape: Tempranillo. Though some of the young, or joven, wines are made from Garnacha, the one I selected was 100% Tempranillo. These are the wines being poured in Tapas bars for 75¢ a glass; bright, fruity and usually lively with acidity. Much of what I cam across I the cafés and bars while in Spain were these joven wines, but the reputation of Rioja is built on the quality and character of Crianzas or Reservas, and the grand-daddy wine of them all are the Gran Reservas. What makes these so special is the long aging period both in oak barrels and in bottles. Indeed, what makes Spain such an interesting wine producing country is the tradition of long aging of wines before release, and Rioja, as a DOCa, has more stringent aging requirements than the rest of Spain.

Unfortunately, there has been a shift in style with some houses in Rioja. Complaints have been issued that producers are pandering to critics and internationals tastes, instead of making more traditional styles. Catavino recently wrote a lament to the change in tone of Reservas. I avoided this mine-field by choosing a wine from a benchmark producer - the oldest continuous producer in Haro - known for exceptional wines. I am always surprised that wines like these, showing impressive secondary and tertiary characteristics due to aging on the part of these producers, sell for less than $20.

Imagine for a moment if Bordeaux, instead of selling their wine before its even done, would hold their wines back, age them in bottle until after the wines mellow and drop their rip-your-face-off tannins. Imagine further if they didn't sell for rip-you-off prices. Lets hope that the love for Tempranillo does not corrupt the long held practices of Spanish bodegas in to the insanity of Bordeaux.

The final bottle of Tempranillo came from Ribera Del Duero. The Duero river flows into Portugal, where its known as the Douro and boasts a hot climate to make Port. But while in Spain, the banks of the Duero are more moderate and can be challenging due to their altitude. Still, some of the greatest wines in Spain, Vega Secilia among them, hail from here. Riper fruit and stronger tannins prevail in these wines which show us the brawny side of the grape. I had to grab my decanter and try to wake this wine up, but I suspect that it could have used another 5 years of sleeping in the bottle.

(+) Mencos, Rioja Joven 2008 $16.50
Straightforward, fruity with a touch of pepper and spice. A classic youthful wine for quaffing and conversation at a boisterous bar. Worth picking up a couple of bottles for a fun evening with friends. Available at Cork, imported by De Maison Selections.

(++) Marqués de Riscal, Rioja Riserva 2005 $18

A true benchmark Rioja. 5+ years aging shows on the nose with some blue cheese funk, but beautiful soft fruit underlying it all. Amazing value at under $20, and a chance to see what patience can do for tannins - why don't more people by old Rioja instead of cabernets? Available at Liner & Elsen and Fred Meyer, Imported by Shaw-Ross International

(+) Torrederos, Ribera Del Duero Reserva 2004 $29

The most obvious contrast between this wine and the Riscal is the structure - this wine is loaded with tannins, and more expressive fruit. Could have used more time in the decanter, or in the bottle. A big wine for sure with a dark fruit and present oak - use with meat! Available at Storyteller Wines, imported by Estelle Imports.

#WBW71 - South African Memories & a Jumilla Monastrell

2011-03-16T16:05:00.000-07:00

I've long had a love of Mouvèdre. In my house, growing up, Rhone wines were king. Just get my Dad started and he'll swoon over Vacqueyras or Gigondas, and of course he has a soft spot for Bandol, France's home of Mouvèdre. So, along with my fathers good looks, I inherited a love of these rich, complex, heady wines.

The wine that got me hooked on Mouvèdre though, was a varietal bottling from Spice Route of South Africa. Several years ago, while I was living in Cape Town, my parents came to visit over Christmas. We took them out to the winelands near Stellenbosch and Paarl, and stopped into the regions most widely known estate, Fairview - responsible for Goats do Roam, and a leading producer of not just wine, but goat cheese in South Africa. Fairview Winery owns several different labels, producing wines in diverse regions from Hermanus to Swartland.

The Spice Route Mourvèdre hailed from the latter, and was the last wine we tried that day, after a line up of Pinotage, Cabernets and Chenin Blancs; it was the one that stood out, and the one we walked away with. What was appealing about it was its meaty, sweaty, dark and seductive core that jumped out and grabbed you. But it was packaged in a svelte and balance body. The taste resonated with the spicy borewors sauasage that is a mainstay of the South African braai. I know that Pinotage is the country's claim to the wine world, but Mourvèdre seemed to resonate more with the diverse, rich and spicy food and Mediterranean climate of Cape Town.

A few years after that, as I was searching for interesting Mourvèdre in the Vancouver, B.C. market, it was revealed to me that Spain also produced Mourvèdre. In fact, it was home to it, only there named Monastrell. I stored this information away, knowing if I couldn't find any Bandol, or re-live my Cape Town days, I could always look towards Spain. So when I recently had the idea for a Spanish themed tasting (here and here), I was eager to share at least one Monastrell with the group.

Gladly, I came across the Juan Gil 2007 Monastrell from Jumilla at a local shop, Vino, just in time to share it with the group. Jumilla is in the Murcia region of south-eastern Spain (for beautiful video and insight into the region, check the videos produced by Grape Radio), and this wine comes from 40 year old vines. That familiar rich, seductive array of aromas pulled me in to the glass, full of red and dark fruit, spice and meat. You can taste the Spanish sun, and rocky earth in the full body; This wine is definitely powerful, at 15% ABV, but carries its weight gracefully. This wine was a big hit with the group, as proved by the empty bottle test. And just as the Spice Route Mourvèdre would pair beautifully with Borewors or a Potjie, so to would this Monastrell pair with the grilled pork chops and grilled garlicy-mushrooms I had in Spain.

9 Spanish Wines with New Wine Club, Part 2

2011-03-16T09:38:00.000-07:00

I was happy to see this weeks NYTimes column focus on the remarkable wines of Priorat, one of the great wine regions in Spain. I was sad, however that none of the wines we tasted last friday were from Priorat. But we did taste some awesome wines from Rias Baixas and Bierzo - two of my favorite regions in Spain.

One of my favorite challenges is to get people who claim they like only red wines to drink, and like, if not love, a white wine. Sometimes it a tough game, especially for someone who has such mixed feelings about one of the great white grapes: chardonnay. Well, Spain has relatively few white wines out there, aside from cava, and they can be hard to track down here in Portland. I was certain thought to find a good Rias Baixas and share the pleasures of Albariño with the group.

What I came up with was the unique Do Ferreiro Rebisaca, a blend of 75% Albariño and 25% Treixadura and aged on lees for 9 months. Not the typical Rias Baixas, but a nervy, vibrant wine that got the point across; Albariño can be a complex and interesting white, and has earned its reputation one of the greatest seafood wines. This wine may not have convinced everybody of the pleasures of white, but it turned some heads and brought back memories of fresh seafood dinners in Europe.

Next up was a pair of 2008 Bierzos, both 100% Mencía. The first, La Mano, was a rather simple, light bodied expression reminiscent of the red table wines common along the Camino. In contrast, the Pétalos from J. Palacios, was richer, more complex and ended up being one of the favorites of the evening. The contrast of these two wines was clear when tasting them side by side.

(+) Do Ferreiro Rebisaca, Rias Baixas DO 2007 $20
Bright and crisp with lots of lime peel, touch of melon and mineral character on the nose. This wine seemed to have the weight to handle a variety of food, but the general conversation leaned towards seafood. Refreshing with a medium finish. Available from Storyteller Wines, imported by De Maison Selection.

(-) La Mano Mencía Roble, Bierzo DO 2008 $10.50
A straightforward wine that showed the basic profile of Mencía; red fruit, bramble and herbal notes followed with good acidity, rough but light tannins, and light alcohol. Not a bad red table wine for lighter meals, hot summer nights, or days of walking 30 km, but nothing to get excited about either. Available from Great Wine Buys, imported by Axial wines.

(++) Descendientes de J. Palacios, Pétalos Bierzo DO 2008 $23
Perhaps the most interesting find of the night for me. This wine comes from old vines (40-90 years) with very low yields, then spends some time in French oak barrels. I loved the full expression of Mencía with ripe brambly raspberry, blueberry pie, complex herbal notes and baking spice. The tannins were refined like a nice black tea, and balanced with the crisp acidity. Not quite full bodied with a long finish. Although this is Palacios entry level Mencía, it shows what this grape is capable of, and is very much worth picking up. Available at Cork and New Seasons, imported by Rare Wine Co.

Although this post is a week late to be included, its worth checking out the Wine Blogging Wednesday roundup of posts on Spainish wines, and the awesome map produced.

9 Spanish Wines with New Wine Club, Part 1

2011-03-13T21:51:00.000-07:00

Friday marked the inaugural meeting of my new tasting group here in Portland. I was really excited to see everybody who showed up and share a great set of Spanish wine that I put together over the past month. The attendees, as a whole, were no strangers to wine, but we did go over a bit about tasting, what to look for in wine and how to differentiate between elements, as well as an overview of Spain. Overall, I was really impressed with the group for their comments on the wine as well as the interesting questions they had about Spain and wine in general.

In addition to the line up of wines, I put together a few typical Spanish snacks: Tortilla Española, Manchego and Patacabra cheeses with Membrillo and olives from Whole Foods, and Chorizo from Olympia Provisions, and some homemade bread.

Below are my tasting notes from the first two wines we tasted; two Cavas. Perhaps it wasn't fair of me to start with sparkling wines, since I find them hard to analyze in part due to their bubbles. Still, everybody loves sparkling wines, and cava is one of the best thing that Spain has going for it. I picked each wine for different reasons. The first wine is ubiquitous here in Portland; I've seen it in Whole Foods, New Seasons, and Vino, and I'm sure a few other places are carrying it. It represents a straightforward, inexpensive cava. The other, bought at Liner & Elsen, was designed to show that cava is also a serious sparkling wine, with the ability to challenge Champagne. Well, hat didn't happen - although it was different and good, I wont be running out to buy it again. In fact, most people preferred the first wine in our side by side tasting. I had to admit, when I revealed the prices, that I was a bit let down by the second wine.
I'll be posting more notes from the rest of the tasting in the coming days, but here's the first set.

(+) Torre Oria, Brut Cava $9
Niether cava tasted got me really excited, but I will say that this one showed extremely well for a $9 sparkling wine. Given sparkling wine's image of a celebratory drink, you could be celebrating for a long time and with a large crowd by stocking a few cases of this. What I did like about this, aside from its hit you-in-the-face value, is that it's a very clean expression of creamy citrus and yeasty. Its 100% Macabeo, and thought its crisp, it is also balanced in body. Available at Whole Foods, New Seasons, Vino; imported by Casa Bruno

(-) J. Esteve Nadal Avinyo, Reserva Brut Cava $16

I give this Cava a pass. Its a very nice wine, with a soft round character, more fruit expression than yeast and bread. In fact, I preferred it to the other, but I was let down a little, thinking that a Reserva Cava would deliver a little more punch. This blend of Macabeo, Xarel-lo, Parellada seemed a little flat. Peril of tasting side by side and not stand alone? Perhaps. Or maybe its just that I've been tasting lots of sparkling wine at this price point recently that are more memorable. Available at Liner & Elsen, Imported by De Maison Selections.

Rosé Not-Champagne

2011-03-07T09:02:00.000-08:00

I celebrated my 21st birthday while living abroad in France. Since I was able to drink anyway, getting drunk was not a priority. Instead, my host family generously hosted a dinner for me and some friends. I knew by then the pleasures of both Champagne and rosé wine, but thanks to my hosts I learned the glories of Rosé Champagne. The lightness of the fruit and the complexity of the secondary fermentation are pleasure I still remember, if not the name of the producer.

Alas, so many times since then I have been disappointed with rosé sparkling wines. It seems rare to find one that offers a balance between fruit and verve, like homemade jam on fresh bread. More often they are insipid and uninspired. I asked my WSET instructor after a very disappointing example of Laurent Perrier Cuvée Rosé Brut why so many rosé Champagne sucked. His answer said that it had more to do with Champagne houses and their wine making philosophy then the style of wine. Consider this: Champagne houses make a lot of wine. Oceans! And the majority of it is non-vintage. What distinguishes one Champagne from another is not the specific vineyards it comes from (thought in rare cases this can be spot-lighted) or the vintage, but the brand and stylistic choices that brand makes to differentiates its wine. Thus the majority of Champagne is looked at as a commodity, much like grain or beef is here in America. Consistency and image are of prime importance because these are what ensure brand loyalty. So, if you have to churn out millions of bottles of sparkling rosé year after year, you need it to look, smell and taste the same more or less. Its not hard to see how this pushes towards the lowest common denominator. A brand focusing on their image might be more concerned with achieving consistent color in their wine then complexity and interesting aromas. After all, the image of champagne is one of partying, celebrating life's big moments, falling in love all over again - who's going to complain about the wine when their in love!?! Who's going to complain about a wine when the cost of entry to this club is so high. Not me! I don't want to be wet blanket who is then accused of being a wine snob. No, I'd rather sip the lackluster wine and shout Congratulations in spite of it. But this, in my opinion, is the major failing of Champagne: they have built a brand image that has nothing to do with the quality or interest of their wines, and everything to do with lifestyle and artifice. Sure, they make some pretty tasty juice there, but apart from superlative examples like Grand Cru or vintage wines, there seems to be little discussion about the quality of these wines. The exciting talk around Champagne these days revolves around Grower Champagne, which strive to high-light terroir. And these small time producers are gaining ground, thanks to importers like Terry Theise who champion the underdogs. Every year there is more variety on the shelves.

But that not what this is about. This is about the joys of Rosé Champagne, or rather Rosé Not-Champagne. Thankfully Champagne does not hold a monopoly on rosé sparkling wines. All over France there are great sparkling wines, like Crémant de Loire and Crémant de Limoux. But it is in Alsace, where a small amount of Pinot Noir is planted, that Lucien Albrecht makes some fantastic Rosé Crémant d'Alsace. My wife brought home this bottle as a Valentines Day treat. Having already made other plans, we left the bottle in the fridge for another occasion. I decided to open it the other day to serve with saurkraut and chicken sausages. It had enough stuffing to go up against the food, an acidity that paired well with the saurkraut and just a touch of sweetness to lift the fruit and bring out the charm from the apples in the sausage. Here's the review:

(++) Lucien Albrecht Rosé Brut Crémant d'Alsace NV ($25)
Opened beautifully on the nose with strawberry and red current, complimented by lemon curd, yeast and fresh bread aromas. Bright and mouth-filling body with a pleasant long finish. 100% Pinot Noir. Highly recommended.

What do you blind taste?

2011-02-28T17:48:00.000-08:00

Right now I'm working on the format for a new wine tasting group. With the success of our Vancouver club, I wanted to incorporated ideas from that experience, but also I think critically about formatting. One issue that concerns me is whether to conduct the tasting blind, or share all the information upfront.

From my experience in the WSET courses, I've done plenty of blind tasting. Generally, a region or style would be presented, then two or three wines would be poured for comparison. Information about the specific region/appellation, varieties, producer, or price was not revealed until an assessment was made. This is done, according to the curriculum, to train objective evaluation techniques - to get us to think about what we are tasting it and develop a logical analysis to arrive at a conclusion with out being influenced by externals or irrelevant factors. And hopefully it leads to useful notes about a wine's structure and the experience of tasting it, and not to more wine bullshit. This idea is pretty much standard industry practice, but the blind tasting has also taken on an almost mythical quality. Stories abound about sommeliers identifying obscure wines precisely down to the smallest detail. My feelings on this? Sure, thats a nifty trick - you do have to be very experienced to pull it off. But what purpose does it serve? Anybody who can read could tell you about a wine by looking at the bottle. Even many sommeliers will dismiss this as nothing more than a parlor trick. The real skill lies in evaluating a wine's characteristics and pairing the wine and food to best reveal the character of each, not in identifying its vintage and origin. Beyond this, wine is meant to be enjoyed.

There is value in having information upfront when tasting. I find it helpful to know what to expect so that I can recall previous tasting experiences and benchmarks to help me judge a wine. I admit that I have fallen victim to the influence of price or a label, but blind tasting leaves the subject of wine cold and dead, and a lot less enjoyable. The anticipation and story of a wine are also part of the wine's allure and enjoyment. Furthermore, the producers name or the price are not the only elements that can mislead a taster. For one, context is highly relevant; how many wines, and what kinds are you tasting before or after. What about color? Yes, color can sometimes tell us about a wine (bricking, or browning from oxidation), but can also be manipulated through the use of grape juice concentrates. And color is not an indicator of intensity of flavors - intensity of flavors are measured with the nose and palate, not the eyes.

So, what to do about the tasting club? Well, the goal of the group is to expand peoples wine sphere's and help develop their wine knowledge. I don't really care if they can identify a wine blind, or even evaluate a wine's structure, because group is not for wine professional. They simply want to know more and try things that they might not on their own. And I believe that they can judge for themselves whether a wine is worth its price. Anyone can, if they stop for a moment to reflect, can tell you if they like something or not, and what it might be worth to them. But here is the bottom line for me, when most of us drink wine, we know what we are drinking. We've selected them, or our host has told us about the wine. We anticipate the wine, we offer up our enthusiasm or share in our hosts excitement. Even as part of a tasting group, shouldn't we all get more excited about wine?

Friday Tasting at Storyteller Wines - Dueling 1985's

2011-02-27T13:23:00.000-08:00

On Friday I had the wonderful chance to catch a unique tasting at Storyteller Wine. Owner Michael Alberty poured five diverse wine as part of his normal tasting, but also brought out two special bottles just for fun, both of 1985 vintage: Stag's Leap Wine Cellar Napa Cabernet Sauvignon and Chateau Ducru-Beaucaillou St. Julien Second Growth. Here's a run down of the tasting.

(+) Jean Marc Chardonnay 2009 $20

A chardonnay with just enough for me to recommend. I've talked before about my apathy towards this grape, but I may be coming around. This wine was certainly interesting enough and in balance. Mellow medium body, with restrained use of oak, sadly the acid trailed off at the back end. Good porch sipper.

(-) Apolloni Willamette Valley Pinot Noir 2008 $24

All hail the 2008 Oregon Pinots? Well, maybe not all of them. This particular bottle was too forward with the oak, vanilla, & baking spice, that eventually gave way to some dark fruit. A balanced body with fine grained tannins, though still young. To me, not terribly interesting, but it could be all the hype that let me down.

(+) Felsina Chianti Classico 2008 $2

I reviewed the 2007 a few weeks back...or was I mistaken, and mislabeled it in my notes. In any manner, Felsina was consistant. The pressed flower scent set me onto the topic of old photo albums with yellowing film coverings. Still a Sangiovese classic in my opinion.

(++) Domaine Cabirau Côte du Roussillon 2009 $20

A blend of 70% Grenache, 20% Syrah, 10% Carignan. Delicious, and appealing right off the bat. Herbal and meaty with intense nose, but ripe (not cooked) fruit character in there as well. Full bodied and soft tannins from the high Grenache content. Rich and warming for the cold weather we've been having.

(+) Matello Fool's Journey Willamette Valley Syrah 2008 $28

One of the bottles that we walked away with. Made from 87% Syrah, and 13% Viognier, cofermented, this wine was decanted three days prior, and was still very upright. A clear sharp cedar and black pepper attack on the nose with dark fruit on the palate and the tannin structure very much in place. Clean long finish. Could it have opened up more? Maybe we'll see when we open ours at home.

As we were getting to the stars of the show, those present started talking about the events going on in 1985. Talk of Regan and Michael Jackson. I always find it interesting when old wine is opened how it inspires this kind of talk. The presence of old wine is like a key to a time capsule, one that opens up the hidden events in our memories that we have stored away.

(++) Stag's Leap Wine Cellar Napa Cabernet Sauvignon 1985

This wine was vibrantly fresh, even after 25 years! Beautiful red cherry and sweet blackcurrent (more like crème de cassis), but most of all, that lovely smooth structure that comes from well aged Cabernet tannins. Excellent balance with a long finish. A very exciting wine, and my favorite of the evening. I was especially pleased to try this wine and see what Napa had made of itself after a couple of decades of experience, but before the rock-star winemaker era. Stag's Leap Wine Cellar's reputation is well earned, and this vintage shows why.

(+) Château Ducru-Beaucaillou St. Julien 1985 $135

I will admit upfront that I am not familiar with the St. Julien appellation other then it being on the Left Bank. My "mouth-on" experience with these wines is nil, so I did not know what to expect. All I had to go on was my experience with other Left Bank wines - mostly Médocs or Haut-Médoc.

The color was a beautiful pale red with lots of bricking apparent at the edges. Nose reminiscent of camomile tea with a menthol under-current and earth character, in contrast to the Stag's Leap fruit. I couldn't get the picture of stones out of my head - was it the scent of graphite or the fact that the château's name means "beautiful rocks"? Medium bodied with silky, evolved tannins and very long finish.

Tasting notes...again

2011-02-23T09:38:00.000-08:00

It's hard to get tired of debating the topic of tasting notes. Seemingly, the more people bring up the topic of a new approach to describing a wine, the more the critics using the 100 point system and flowery (Quixotic?) terms seem to persist in presenting an understanding of wine as out of reach and complex. Even Gary Vaynerchuk, who claims to be "Changing the wine world," falls into the trap of using a long string of descriptors and scoring wines. That's not change I can believe in. (For a comparison of scoring systems, check out this great graphic, by De Long Wine Discovery Tools.)

In contrast to the prevailing notion in most wine media, Eric Asimov just proposed a binary system of describing wine; sweet or savory. I completely agree that tasting notes should be simpler, but he has taken it too far. There's no doubt that proponents of scoring systems (100 points or otherwise) see their way of measuring a wines merits as simple and un-intimidating to the consumer - yet they do nothing to tell us about the experience of the wine, or its place in the world. And neither does Asimov's two choices, which are loaded with potential for misunderstanding.

There is the issue of why one would want to write a tasting note. In response to Asimov's column, Alder Yarrow wrote up this reminder of what tasting notes are good for. The list focuses on information being conveyed from wine writers to consumers. But lets not forget that tasting notes are also written by wine consumers for themselves as a tool to remember wines they have drunk. In this case, my advice is to write what suits you and makes the most sense of your experience.

Personally, I would rather see tasting notes that showed restraint when using descriptors (a la Broadbent), but conveyed what I think are the two most important aspects of a wine: its structure, and its typicity. Why these two elements? A description of a wines structure can convey how a wine is made, what it feels like in the mouth, if it is balanced or not, if it should be paired with food and what sort of food, and its ability to age. Also, a wines structure, though it evolves, is more permanent than any flavor. A wine out of balance cannot evolve into a balanced one. As for typicity and style, I believe its important to say whether a wine reflects its place of origin, or fits a style. Humans use broad categories to describe all sorts of things, why not wine? Furthermore, wine writers tend to make such a big deal of terroir, and seek out true vins de terroir. Why then don't we use this in tasting notes, and in this way educate consumers by pointing out useful benchmarks in a given category. Perhaps instead of trying to dumb down the discussion with reductionist descriptions, we should move the discussion towards expanding our understanding of the diversity of wine and where it comes from.

What the hell is Cassis?

2011-02-18T11:45:00.000-08:00

I won't mention where, but I once sat down in a tasting room ready to taste a beautiful Napa Cabernet. After forming my own impressions I glanced over the tasting notes that were provided (apparently for my amusement). I joke you not, it read "Blackcurrent, Cassis". They were literally side by side (and yes, I mean literally).

Speaking French, I know that cassis is what the French call black currents. I was astounded that the marketing team would be so stupid as to provide two terms, identical in meaning, one after the other. I dismissed it as an oversight, and moved on with my life...

Until I ran across this factoid: until 1966 it was illegal to grow black currents in the US, and not until 2003 was the ban lifted in states like Nw York and Oregon, all due to a disease associated with the plant.
Thanks to De Long Wine Moment for their post on the tasting term. They go on to discuss that Americans tend to use the term "Cassis", because the US's exposure to the flavor of black current was primarily from Crème de Cassis. The British, on the other hand, use the term "Black Current" being familiar with widely available black current juice.

Perhaps the afore mentioned Napa winery was trying to appeal to a broader set of tourists. My suggestions? Try this "Black Current/Cassis"

Understanding Volatile Acidity

2011-02-14T10:28:00.000-08:00

One of the things I've noticed about wine makers is that when they taste a wine they tend to evaluate it for faults, not for merits. To me, this seems a little backwards. My philosophy is that a wine, like people can have faults, but still be worthwhile, even enjoyable. Then again, its their job to asses wines in order to produce the best possible product. But every so often I come across a wine that is, in fact, faulty. Most often it's "cork taint", or TCA. But there are other, less common faults in wine. I recently came across a wine that I thought had a touch of Volatile Acidity on the nose. I was a turned off, and sadly I could not recommend what could have been a great wine. Everything else was fetching, but the nose was unpleasant.
So what is VA? Where does it come from? Volatile Acidity is primarily acetic acid, as in vinegar, and ethyl acetate, which smells like nail polish remover or paint thinner. It can develop throughout the wine production process though aerobic yeasts. That means that excess oxygen during fermentation can encourage microbial activity that causes VA. Jamie Goode's site, the Wine Anorak gives a good description of VA's role in a wine:

Volatile acidity (VA) is caused by naturally occurring chemicals in wine, produced by the actions of acetic bacteria. It can be shown that there are measurable levels of VA in all wine. (Emphasis mine) VA is split between two types of chemical – acetic acid and ethyl acetate. Rightly or wrongly, I tend to think of the acetic acid affecting the taste with the sourness or edge to a wine which recalls vinegar, with the ethyl acetate leading to various volatile traits from a mild ‘lift’ to the nose which isn’t directly noticeable, through a boot polish kind of aroma, to nail varnish remover in the worst cases. The fact is that acetic acid and ethyl acetate are formed together and such a distinction may not in fact be so straightforward. But then that’s wine for you – it is more than likely that a complex picture of elements are involved in whether we perceive an issue or not. In the case of VA, it’s not just the level – but also the wine style and type. The richer, bigger wines (Port, for example) can carry greater amounts of VA without detriment. In fact, the sweet dessert wines styles affected by noble rot actually seem to need high levels of VA in order to help form the nose. Without these more volatile elements, the heavy, sugary wine would not give much on the nose at all, and the VA provides an essential ‘lift’ to bring the less volatile elements to our nose.

Whats important to note is that acetic acid and ethyl acetate are produced during fermentation and therefore present in all wines. Perception thresholds are different from person to person, and from wine to wine. It is when these elements are in excess, i.e. out of balance with the rest of the wine, that they becomes perceptible and unpleasant. Think of wine as a harmonious, yet complex network of elements, each must be weighted proportionally to the others.

In this light, VA is not a fault, it is an integral part of the wine. Rather, the fault is that the wine is not in balance. The wine I came across suffered from this problem. What I experienced on the palate was a wine that displayed interesting fruit and development, but on the nose had excess VA in proportion to its other aromas.

2008 Château de Gaudou Cahors

2011-02-12T21:28:00.000-08:00

(+) 2008 Château de Gaudou Cahors $8.50
France does not produce enough Malbec to satisfy the worlds demand, but this Cahors gives Argentina a run for its money. At under ten, this wine over performs; blackberry, dried-blueberry, herbal, tar and earth all on the nose. Very dry in the mouth, but backed with fruit, and nice finish. Very worth picking up several bottles to have around (from Liner & Elsen). It didn't go all that well with my dinner of wonton soup, but I'm thinking it could almost go with guacamole. I dare someone to try it.

Friday at Foster & Dobbs

2011-02-12T20:19:00.000-08:00

Last friday at Foster & Dobbs on NE 15th, there was a selection of Casa Bruno Wines poured by Joe Moura. These notes are a little late, but I'm sure the wines are still in stock. Sadly I did not note the prices.

(+) 2007 Felsina Chianti Classico
Great 100% Sangiovese. It's seems rare to find a Chianti with this much honesty. A very direct and straightforward expression of red cherry, flowers and earth - classic! Well worth checking out.

(+) 2007 La Gerla Rosso di Montalcino
I seem to remember this as a blend of Sangiovese, Cabernet and Merlot, but on checking for the blend, I found that it was another 100% Sangiovese. Surprising intense fruit nose, with a full bodied structure and hint of bitterness. I'm sure the price refelected its status as not-Brunello, but I preferred this...see below

(-) 2004 La Gerla Brunello di Montalcino
Sadly, I was put of but a touch of volotile-acidity upfront on the nose. Underneath was there was complexity and depth, but that first impression lingered. Still, the balance was spot on with a lingering finish. Hesitant to recommend because of possible VA.

Tapas Bars

2011-02-08T18:38:00.000-08:00

Léon before the evening rush

More thoughts about Spain: what I appreciated most about my time in Spain was seeing and taking part in the Spanish food and wine culture. In particular, the tapas bars. I didn't spend too much time in restaurants, and when I did, I tended towards the simple / traditional / inexpensive. But to get my culinary kicks and search for something besides plain table wine, I went to bars.

Tapas bars and restaurants have become very chic in the US over the last few years. From what I've experienced, these tend to follow American dinning standards with Spanish flavors and an attempt at Spanish portions. But the establishments I've been to bear little resemblance in terms of the culture of eating Spain. Specifically, "tapas bars" are really just neighborhood bars, usually known for serving a unique snack along with their drinks. Really, these places are simple hangouts, frequented more for socializing more than to seek culinary treasures.

Sherry on tap in Granada

It used to be that almost anywhere you went in Spain, when you ordered a drink at a bar, it came with tapas, (in the Basque country bar snacks are referred to as pintxos and are not included with the drink). There are several origins stories for this tradition, but they seem to all underscore the association of food with drink. Sadly this tradition is dying out. I heard many stories of bars stopping tapas service when too many customers left their plates untouched. But in places that still have rich bar culture, like Léon, Logroño, and Andalucia, tapas thrives. In places like Nerja, you're often given a choice of which tapas you'd like with your drink, including some amazingly fresh seafood. I found it fun to try to pair my drink choices with the tapas served.

I would love to see bars in the states try this; whenever you order a beer or glass of wine, a small snack is served along side it. I'm not talking about peanuts, chips & salsa or popcorn. Something that actually paired well with the drink, and felt like you were eating food. Could a bar like this survive, doing only one thing, but doing it well, and building in to the cost of a drink? I'm not sure that people would be willing to pay for it. Here in Portland, I find the Happy Hour culture to approximate this. Its certainly encourages us to see food and drink as related, and many establishments have built their reputation on their happy hour alone.

Frog's Leap Merlot 2006

2011-02-03T13:44:00.000-08:00

(+) Frog's Leap Rutherford Merlot 2006
What a pleasant reminder the other night to open up a half bottle of this merlot. Reminder of what? That merlot can be interesting, balanced and comfortingly delicious. Ripe plums dipped in mint chocolate and spiced Bing cherries. Round and fruity, but alive. Recommended.

Frog's Leap was one of my favorite wineries to visit along the Silverado Trail, with a very pleasant tasting room that looks on to a beautiful garden and the vineyards. It was certainly pleasant to sit on the porch, be served a flight of wines, and then walk around the garden and see the effort to maintain biodiversity around the vineyard. From what I've read, the grapes they use are organically grown, and the vineyards are managed without irrigation after flowering (though I'm told they do practice deficit irrigation). Taken as a whole, their wines are serious, offer good value, and represent a commitment to changing the culture of Napa in a positive direction.
Wine purchased at Frog's Leap tasting room.

30 Days of Spanish Wine

2011-01-28T15:10:00.000-08:00

This past September and October, I accomplished one of my life goals: to walk the Camino de Santiago, from St Jean Pied-de-Port, France, to Santiago de Compostella, Spain. This trail took me through 800 kilometers of Spanish countryside and towns, weaving through some of the great Spanish wine regions. Before leaving, I came across an interesting story on Palate Press be fellow Portlandian Ryan Reichert. It gave me a few ideas of what to expect and look out for, and now that I'm back, and have had time to reflect on the experience I want to share my own experience.

First of all, my wife and I planned to hike for 30 days, which meant we averaged about 18-20 miles each day. We had a few days of easy walking, a few nights in hotels, but mostly we kept disciplined about our distances and stayed in pilgrim hostels each night. Which meant that each night, what was most on our mind were the necessities; getting our packs off our backs, cleaning off the dust and sweat, and replenishing ourselves with food. Wine was of course part of our meals, and though sometimes it was more than just part that, most of it was humble, local and undistinguished.

One of my favorite experience throughout the trip was how much our surroundings changed, and how each region became distinct from the previous as we passed though them. This applied to the wine as well. The first major region we passed though was Navarre. The wines here tended to be more modern, and more homogeneous tasting, round and fruity. During the first few days of hiking, the last thing I wanted to think about was tasting notes on muscle relaxants and sleep aids. There are certainly great Navarre wines out there, but the simple vino tinto served with our pilgrim meals of Sopa de Ajo & Tortilla Espanola were pleasant and welcome. One landmark for pilgrims is the wine fountain of Bodegas Irache (check the webcam), which offers free wine to passing pilgrims to help ease the pain.

On day ten of hiking, we entered into the province of Rioja, staying over night in Logroño. Logroño is the capital of Rioja, and has a very robust food and wine scene. Sadly we misted the fall wine celebration, though a fountain was still died red from the celebration. But we did spend our afternoon and evening wandering the four blocks next to our pension, filled with tapas bars of all kinds. I'll write more on my thoughts about tapas bars and culture in a later post, but this was our introduction, and we were not disappointed. For the equivalent of a dollar, you could get a glass of Rioja joven, and a few more dollars would get you any number of small dishes like Patatas Bravas, or a plate of grilled mushrooms. Most bars offered a selection of wines, including some fantastic reservas and gran reservas. But the simpler, fresh Rioja joven suited the straightforward tapas that were the norm.

After the provence of Rioja, we entered a virtual wine dessert of the Meseta, a high flat land more suited to grain than vines. Still, wine was a staple, and we could find a decent selection of Ribera del Deuro reds. I started to notice that a common aperitif served at bars was sweet vermouth, served on ice with a slice of orange and a spritz of soda.

The province of Léon hosts the Bierzo region, which makes wine from the Mencia grape. I took particularly to these wines because they are fresh, medium bodied wines, not overly tannic, but fairly versatile. I glad to see a few examples of these wines in the Portland market, including a bag in box offering which is an incredible value. Also common in the city of Léon is Prieto Picudo, which was made as both red and rosé. I can't say any were memorable, but worth taking note of in general. Léon also offered some of the best ham and chorizo we tasted on the trip. There are lots of tapas bars spread around the city, each offering their own selection of sausage, cured ham or slow roasted pork.

Santiago itself lies in the province of Galicia, famous for its octopus, its potato and cabbage soup Caldo Gallega, and its Albariño. Rias Baixas is perhaps the only celebrated white wine of Spain aside from Cava. Its typically served in little porcelain cups, and pairs well with Queso Tetilla, a local cows milk cheese, and Membrillo, or quince paté.

The Camino was at its heart a journey of introspection for me. But that introspection was balanced with a camaraderie and fellowship formed with other pilgrims. Perhaps the most memorable evening of the trip was an birthday celebration in Ponferrada. A dozen of us gathered to celebrate the 60th birthday of a women we had just met. We set the table, opened a few bottles, and raised our glasses. Buen provecho & Salud.

Eola Hills Pinot Noir 2009

2011-01-25T17:32:00.001-08:00

(-) Eola Hills Willamette Valley Pinot Noir 2009 $14
I should't complain, because its great to see low priced pinot noir, out there, and $14 is a nice price, especially from Oregon. However, I think there is better PN out there at this price, which is why I wouldn't recommend this. That being said, this wine has a classic pinot profile; bright red fruit, touch of spice and a nice earthy quality. But the intensity was just not there, resulting in an imbalanced wine, with too much alcohol on the nose and no real lingering finnish.

Wine provided by a dinner guest.

Saturday Tasting Notes

2011-01-23T12:00:00.000-08:00

I stopped in to my local wine shop for their Saturday tasting, which featured new arrivals from France. A nice round up of gems at reasonable prices. I'm glad to see these awesome values, and had a nice time chatting with importer Chad Zimmerman (of Animaux du Vin) about his travels in France.

(+) Guy Bocard Bourgogne Blanc 2008 $21
Beautiful and expressive chardonnay. This wine is falsa marga in reverse: the nose is intense and round with creamy lemon and pear, but the structure is tight and zippy on the palate. Importer Animaux du Vin describes it as Meursault character without the Meursault price. I rarely sing praises of chardonnays (that arn't Blanc de Blanc Champagne), but this one got me excited. Recommended.

(+) Beaurenard Côtes-du-Rhône 2007 $16
Côte-du-Rhône is my comfort wine, since it can offer so much, but I was a touch disappointed. I love the complex herbal nose, with licorice, pepper and earthiness, but it was a bit underwhelming going down. Not that CdR should be about power - and this wine, entirely sourced from within the Rasteau appellation, shows the more elegant side of a wide-ranging appellation. Recommended.
70% Grenache, 15% Syrah, 15% Cinsault

(+) Château Les Rosiers Bordeaux Rouge 2009 $12
Say what you want about Bordeaux, there are still good wines at god prices out there. And its thanks to importers doing a good job that we have access to them. Not your typical cheap red Bordeaux, this had plenty to think about on the nose, but restrained a structure and moderate alcohol. Young tannins, but totally approachable. Reminded me why I love wine; even the humble bottles can be exciting!
60% Merlot, 20% Cabernet Sauvignon, 20% Cabernet Franc. Recommended.

(+) Château Haut Bernasse Monbazillac Les Clos 2005 $20
I'd like to say that this wine was perfectly balanced, but the acidity was a touch light. The sweetness, however, was entirely in check. Fragrant honey-nut aromas with that distinct and powerful noble rot nose (what my wife calls "Barbie-face"). Easy drinking and vibrant. Amazing value when you consider the price is for a full 750 mL. Recommended.
80% Semillon, 15% Muscadelle, 5% Sauvignon Blanc

All wines were provided, gratis, by Great Wine Buys and Animaux du Vins, as part of the regular weekend tasting.

I've Moved!

2011-01-22T23:49:00.000-08:00

After a long hiatus from blogging, I've made a few changes. I've decided to migrate my former blog, Symposia, from Wordpress to Blogger, for a number of reasons; hopefully you'll find the new format as friendly as I do. The Wordpress site will still be up, but I wont be posting to it. If I did my job correctly all of the content has been preserved, and I hope to be building on this.
Obviously this decision has taken a bit of time for me, not in the least because of all the changes in my life. Since my last post, I left my job, moved cities and walked across Spain, and have begun the arduous task of finding a job in Portland.
On the flip side, learning more about the Portland wine market and the Willamette Valley wineries is exciting, and I'm hoping to start a new tasting group soon. All of this should be more than enough inspiration.

WSET Exam

2010-06-29T14:09:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow I will sit my WSET Advanced Exam. This will be the culmination of 15 weeks of lectures, tasting of 125+ wins in class (and plenty more outside of class), reading and rereading a serious text book, and loads of studying of flash-cards. The test consists of a multiple choice section, a short answer/essay portion and a blind wine tasting portion. I'm slightly intimidated by the material, and confused by the diversity and complexity of it all. I'm about as prepared as I'll be for the exam tomorrow night, and I can't help but think about the value of all of it.

I can say that the WSET program offers a fairly comprehensive view of the wine world. It's clear that the perspective of the course is from a British outlook. Bordeaux and Port are the most detailed sections. Some of it is just absurd; wines of the UK are given more prominence than those of Oregon - something that just doesn't sit right with me. And the text book can be pretty poorly written at times; I've found numerous typos, several omissions and poor cross-referencing. What made the course most worthwhile though, was having the text and course material explained through practical tastings with an experienced instructor at hand to guide us though it all. For me, the value of any wine education is in comparing my limited experience with someone who can put what's in the glass into context and perspective. This in turn makes the regulations, the climates, and the production methods more more sense.

I'll be glad when its over though, and hopefully I'll have time to reflect on how this course has changed my thinking on wine, and whether its changed my experience of it too.

Not a Supertaster? So what...

2010-05-04T09:45:00.000-07:00

At our last wine club we had we had an array of fresh (read acidic) white wines in time for spring. A great selection was put together , with some real gems, like a Pouilly-Fumé, and a white Rioja. But the most interesting, or entertaining bit of the evening was when our host pulled out strips of paper soaked in PROP. The "Supertaster" Test. With a bit of build up, and some concern that these may be "broken", we all put the strips in our mouths. Every one in the room immediately noticed the harsh bitter taste in their mouth, except for me. It tasted like paper. So there it is, I'm not a Supertaster. Boo-Hoo, right?

There has been a bit of discussion, if not controversy, about super tasters and their supposed powers. Wine writers and critics would love to be able to tout their above average ability, and with a name like "Supertaster", how could you not want to call yourself one? Consumers, I think, also want to believe that there are supernaturally gifted tasters out there; it would explain their difficulty in describing the wines they taste, and whey they are not able to put their experience into flowery terms - their tongue simply cannot interpret the poetry in the glass.

Well, what is a supertaster? First off, physiologically a supertaster is sensitive to PROP and has a higher density of papillae on their tongue. Also, supertasters tend to have higher sensitivities to, and often avoid the taste of alcohol, spicy food, carbonation, black coffee, spinach and cabbage. They may be able to discern between artificial sweeteners and regular sucrose. Of course, we all have individual preferences, based on physiological differences, and experiential ones too. Most people I know relish the experience of eating a lobster or shrimp. I do not. I happen to be allergic to shellfish, but I don't feel like I'm missing out because I never grew up eating shrimp or lobster, and have not developed a taste for shellfish.

Michael Steinberger investigated his own idiosyncratic tastes, as well as the philosophical side of supertasters. He quoted Gary Pickering, of Brock University saying "I would speculate that supertasters probably enjoy wine less than the rest of us. They experience astringency, acidity, bitterness, and heat (from alcohol) more intensely, and this combination may make wine - or some wine styles - relatively unappealing."

Most importantly, in regards to "Supertasters" Steinberger asks us "Why is objective tasting, e.g., genotyping, important to validate what people say they experience about the flavor of wine? We don't ask music critics to take hearing tests."

Personally, I'm glad to not be a supertaster. I love coffee, whiskey, beer, wine, spinach, and chilies of all types. I like bold flavors and balk at bland food. But I don't think this puts me at a disadvantage for tasting wine, or describing the experience of drinking one. Here's the real truth about what differentiates wine writers and critics: they are critical thinkers. Its not their tongue that is gifted, its their brain that has been trained. They are able to concentrate on their experience, break it down into isolated sensations, then synthesize it back together and describe it using language. Research suggests that we are not able to discern more than three or four aromas in a given wine. What allows critics the ability to create wordy descriptions is the associations formed through experience. A whiff of black berry brings up images of plum and black currant, which then can be compounded into stewed black fruit and jam. A note of vanilla may suggest oak, which reminds us of toast and cedar boxes, then on to cigars and leather. This is a skill acquired and honed over time, and any wine drinker can learn it, if they care. Most North Americans didn't grow up in wine drinking households, and lack memories, associations, and experience that help form an understanding and appreciation of wine. I also believe that North Americans are not in the habit of talking about food they way other cultures may be, and so we don't develop a lexicon around food (though this seems to be changing).

Now, these associations may be personal or even fantasy on the part of the taster. I've already written about why the typical tasting note may not be useful to understanding a wine. But it reminds me of a what Karen McNeil stated in a recent interview on Fermentation, "Get better at wine." She was encouraging bloggers to become more grounded in wine knowledge. However, if we take the advice at face value, and endeavor to know more about our wine, from its style and characteristics to its provenance, then we are better equipped to taste what is in our glass.

Zinfandel v. Syrah (v. Primitivo) Part 2

2010-04-06T14:25:00.000-07:00

So back to that question: what differentiates Zinfandel from Syrah in a blind tasting? This came up from a blind comparative tasting in the last WSET class. My friend turned to me after the wines were revealed and said he could have sworn it was a Syrah that we just tasted. Well, true. The wine was balanced and didn't taste overly hot, but it had lots of spice and darker fruit. It was full bodied and structured. There was no obvious markers to trigger a reflex...we ran into what drXeno called "one of the most difficult cases of guessing a blinded wine’s varietal…New World Syrah/Shiraz vs. Zinfandel."

In the Wine Bible, Karen McNiel describes Zinfandel as a "mouth-filling dry red wine crammed with jammy blackberry, boysenberry, and plummy fruit." Syrah on the other hand has flavors that "... lean towards leather, damp earth, wild blackberries, smoke, roasted meats, and especially pepper and spice." She goes on to say that in the New world this can lean more towards the "... softer, thicker, more syrupy boysenberry-spice character." The masking/homogenizing effect of oak can cause further confusion between the two.

I've thought of a few potential markers to keep in mind. My first though was that white pepper and strong cedar notes would be giveaways for Syrah, but after a little more thinking and research, I've come up with these: 1) Zinfandels tend to be higher in alcohol than Old World Syrah, though this may not help with New World Syrahs. 2) Zinfandel displays more red fruit than Syrah. 3) Zinfandel lacks strong tannin. 4) Brettanomyces would more liekly be found in Syrah than Zin. Given that Brett. is viewed strictly as a flaw in the new world, it would be hard to imagine a barn-yardy Zin, but is potentially beneficial to pedigreed Rhones.

Any thoughts on the matter? What are your experiences with these two varieties?

Zinfandel v. Syrah (v. Primitivo) Part 1

2010-04-05T15:06:00.000-07:00

The WSET Advanced course has started for me, with lots of reading and ego crushing blind tastings to slog through. It is very fun and exciting, and has had me running to different reference sources to find out more. This past week however brought up an interesting issue: what differentiates Zinfandel from Syrah in a blind tasting? And what differentiates a Primitivo, for that matter, from a Zinfandel?

The second question first... to put a point of pride to rest... since it came up while doing an informal tasting this weekend. Two other students, and myself, put together a selection of bottles, one being a Primitivo. Discussing the varietal characteristics, we compared it to Zinfandel. At this point I stated that Zinfandel and Primitivo were not, in fact, genetically identical. Having read about UC Davis research revealing that Zinfandell was, in fact identical to a Croatian grape, name unpronounceable and unmemorable, and the Primitivo was merely closely related. My source for this info was not at hand, and Jancis Robinson's Compact Wine companion shut me up pretty quick. Well, I'm checking my facts, and here's what I've found.

Wikipedia states:

Zinfandel is a variety of red grape planted in over 10 percent of California vineyards. DNA fingerprinting revealed that it is genetically equivalent to the Croatian grape Crljenak Kaštelanski, and also the Primitivo variety traditionally grown in the "heel" ofItaly, where it was introduced in the 1700s.

So, Jancis, my two friends, and I were perhaps all correct. And my source? Well, I tracked that down too: The September 2009 issue of Imbibe, a feature at the back "Tracing Zinfandel to its Croatian roots" by Evan Rail. Too bad it was more a human interest piece than wine geek piece. But speaking of WineGeek, I also found a piece on their site discussing the issue.

Part 2: So what about the differences between Syrah and Zin?

I like it - from the WSJ

2010-01-27T05:40:00.000-08:00

I really love these guys. They always write from a down-to-earth point of view, and do a lot to keep the dialogue going in the right direction.

A matter of language

2010-01-10T06:27:00.000-08:00

One of my pet peeves in language is the misuse of the words further and farther. The two have distinct and specific meanings and should be used appropriately.

Similarly, the words varietal and variety have two distinct meanings, but are often misused, and are thought to be interchangeable. Until recently, I was under the impression that these two words were interchangeable. I was wrong. And now, enlightened by a viticulturist, I am spoiled, forever to cringe and grind my teeth when I hear people with a long history of working in the wine industry and a substantial knowledge of wine talk about a grape varietal.

For clarification, with help from Wikipedia:

Variety refers the kind of fruit, the specific cultivar within that species (vitis vinifera).

Varietal describes wines made from a grape variety, and which typically displays the name of that variety on the wine label.

Thus, varietal is an adjective; Of, indicating, or characterizing a variety. Variety is a noun; A group that is distinguished from other groups by a specific characteristic or set of characteristics.

Insipration for a New Year

2010-01-05T09:22:00.000-08:00

Well, the blog has been hibernating for several months now. Since being back in Vancouver, I've sadly let the ball drop. Still, the holidays blessed me with several great ideas and events that I hope to share soon.

For starters: I'm a big fan of Grape Radio. These guys always do a great job with their interviews, their subjects are always interesting, and they find some of the most interesting personalities in the wine world (their interview with Terry Theise is a favorite).

Now, I don't know too much about Italian wine, but their latest episode is a great, and thorough discussion about Italian wine with MW Antonia Galloni, who is also a contributor to Wine Advocate. Very worth a listen, and gets me thinking about jumping into more Italian varieties.

Formulating a concept of wine appreciation and evaluation

2009-10-17T09:46:00.000-07:00

There is an adage; there are no great wines, only great bottles of wine.
How do we know when we have found that great bottle, much less, how do we increase our chances of picking out that great bottle from the myriad choices. Many people are happy with a simple point system, but to me, this tends to dumb down the experience of wine. While it may help guide you towards picking a better bottle, a point scale says nothing, absolutely nothing, about a wine, the actual experience of drinking it. I’ve never heard anyone say, “that’s some good 94 points.” This is why consumer education, or better yet, a developed culture of appreciation (for food as well as wine) is so critical.

Beyond a point scale, tasting notes do little better for describing the quality of wine. They may describe the qualities of a wine, but do not speak to the overall experience. I came across this in “Wine Science” by Ron S. Jackson:

“Regrettably, the use of wine descriptive terms can become perceived as an essential component of wine appreciation. Once tasters have developed sufficient experience with wine, the description of wine in terms of fruit, flowers, vegetable, and so on - except for research purposes in the descriptive analysis of wine - becomes unnecessary and counterproductive. In addition, it can degenerate into an exercise in self-fantasy. Quixotic terms may be invented to describe fleeting, imagined perceptions. It is generally more meaningful to characterize wines by their production style, varietal origin, and aging process.”

The difficulty with these broader characterizations, and assessments of quality, is the subjectivity of taste, and the variability of experience and knowledge. Appreciation of wine, is like that of art or music; we are often rewarded when we begin to appreciate its qualities beyond the surface elements. Jackson outlines a set of criteria for examining a wine which I find relevant and useful. The key term he uses is “Assessment of Overall Quality”. Chief among these is the wine’s memorableness - does the wine hold our interest, does it create an impression on us. This could be due to factors such as its sense of balance, its complexity, its development or its duration. This reinforced the notion that dissecting a wine’s flavors can do a disservice to the wine by reducing it to parts less than the sum total. If we want to say anything meaningful about a wine, we must remember that wine can tell a story, so we must in turn tell the story of the wine.

Unadulterated wine

2009-09-30T13:47:00.000-07:00

I have been thinking about natural wine, in light of my previous post about water-backing, and the links to related websites I posted. My thoughts went something like this: wine is anything but natural. Wine does not occur in nature, barrels do not assemble them selves, grapes do not jump in voluntarily. What they (natural wine enthusiasts/advocates) are talking about is not neither natural wine, nor authentic/traditional wine (I don’t want to get into a discussion about defining the terms traditional or authentic). What they are talking about are unadulterated, transparent wines. As I pointed out, there are all sorts off things one can put into a wine to push it towards one “expression” or profile. You can highlight aromas, and introduce bouquets. You can manipulate body, texture, and alcohol. All of these actions are generally used to “design” a wine to fit a model consumer, or create a more standardized product that fits a user groups needs.

The natural wine movement is advocating that wine reflect its context (I will use context, rather than terroir, as its and easier term to agree upon), and that this context be considered and appropriate. They are arguing for non-mass market wine... that wine be unique, individual and handmade (even non-corporate).

So, what does appropriate mean? Well, if a grape variety in one region ripens to 26 Brix or higher, you may be pressured to inoculate with yeast that has a high alcohol tolerance, or cause you to add water, and thus acid, in order to make a “balanced” wine. Whereas, said variety in other regions often delivers ripe flavors at lower alcohols without additions or manipulations. Case in point: Santa Rita Hills Pinot Noir. I know a lot of people like it; I don’t. It taste like cola and vodka, not wine. However, the other night I drank a Grenache from the same region, which was more balanced and appropriate for a region that has so much sun and heat. But grenache is a different product, does not fly off the shelfs. Someone thought about that, and still planted it anyway, because they knew it was a better choice. I suspect that the wine making practices were also considered and appropriate. Let me be clear; I’m not opposed to a little chemistry in wine making. Stuck fermentations, partial malo-lactic conversion - these are real problems that wineries face, and must have an answer to them in order to keep their business vital. Similarly with their vineyards, real problems such as rot, mildew and pests have an impact on livelihoods, and few of us have the tolerance for risk (or the financial freedom) to watch a product go to ruin just for an ideal. I just hope that when faced with these problems, farmers and winemakers would opt for the lease invasive intervention.

This is what I believe the natural wine movement is advocating, and I believe that it will catch on, eventually. Organics has convinced many people to consider health over price; fair-trade has encouraged people to think about the social impact their purchases make. Natural wine is asking us to really consider what goes into our wine, and whether responsible choices were made during its production.

Barreling Down

2009-09-25T13:45:00.000-07:00

When fermentation comes to its death throws (it does not stop suddenly, but rather continues in a weakened stake, the new wine throwing CO2 off for a while) it is time to drain the tank, shovel out and press the skins, then settle the new wine into barrels for their winter nap. I’m amazed out how much of what is in the tanks is actually not wine, but spent berries. The free run wine is only a small fraction of what is in the tank. This is generally reserved, pumped to another tank to wait for the lees (sediment) to settle out. This new wine is generally slightly bitter and green (young tannins and sharper acid), but interesting.

Once the berries are sent to the press, the gently pressed wine is tasted for its tannins, which are higher than the free run wine, but may be included in the lot, and thus pumped to the tank. Or it may be too tannic, and will be set aside for a different lot. The hard press wine is always set aside.

A day of two latter, we will come back and rack a tank, that is, transfer it once again to a different tank, this time leaving behind any sediment that has fallen to the bottom. This is the start of making a wine clear and clean. Once racked, the wine is ready to head to one more container, this time French white oak barrels. Only about 25 percent of the barrels are new, the rest divided up from previous years. In the barrels, the wine will undergo secondary fermentation, transforming the green, tart malic acid, which makes the wine taste young, into lactic acid, giving a softer feel to the wine. Oak also allows the wine to slowly breath, and the barrels will regularly be topped up so that the wine does not oxidize too much.

Meanwhile, all the mistakes get sent to Tank Zero. Tank Zero is what we euphemistically call the drain. How does wine end up there?

While dragging hoses between too close barrels, a valve gets tapped and wine shoots in the air, on the barrels, and on you.

After mixing the tank, detach the tank mixer without closing the valve, then attempt to close the valve while the mixing rod is still in. Note: Shirt will turn purple.

Forget to correctly measure the volume of wine you are transferring to a smaller tank. Wine shoots out the top, and into Tank Zero.

Keep a pump running even if the wine is not flowing through it. The wine trapped in the pumping chamber will burn to a cotton-candy-carmel crisp. Take a part the pump and dump all the wine in the hose.

Become slightly distracted while filling barrels. If you look away at just the right moment, a geyser of wine will shoot out the top, stan the barrel, and flow to the drain.

Turn on a pump before checking each connection, or the end point of your hose.

Of course, all of this is generally done right as the winemaker walks around the corner and see you, so that your actions are recorded and humorously discussed at lunch.

The Cap

2009-09-19T13:02:00.000-07:00

One regular, and critical task in the winery, and one of my favorites, is punch-downs. Punch-downs refer to breaking up and submerging, literally pushing down, the cap of skins and seeds that float, or are pushed to the top of a tank. This is what makes red wine; by mixing up the grapes in their juice, skin phenolics are extracted, color and tannins are imparted and the juice develops character. As the juice ferments, the berries are pushed to the top by carbon-dioxide.

When fermentation is in full swing, we punch-down four times a day. In the morning a cloud of C02 can be seen when you first break the cap, as the warm gass breaks through to the cold air. The cap is three feet thick, and rolls like a wave when you push on one side. Traditionally this is all done by hand, with a metal paddle, but we are afforded pneumatic arms the take much if the work out of the job. Still, we run around, trying to cycle through a dozen tanks.
The point of a punch down is not just to extract color and tannins.

Fermentation, through the mechanism of CO2, stratifies the tank, and the top of the juice can be several degrees warmer than the bottom. Mixing the tank helps keep the temperature even. And it does so gently, which is important to Pinot Noir, as it benefits from careful handling.

What I love about the punch-downs is seeing how each tank is unique, depending on the vineyard or lot or stage of fermentation. Some tanks give off a very fruity aroma, as they go through the cold soak. As the juice turns to wine, fermentation imparts new scents to the wine; some tanks give off a savory, gamey bouquet, others maintain a their primary fruit character. Each tank is different, and a map of aromas and bouquets in the winery has developed in my head.

Water-backing

2009-09-13T13:49:00.000-07:00

It is a common practice in California, due to the “perfect climate”, to allow grapes to ripen to “phenolic maturity”. Phenolic compounds are contained in the skins and seeds of grapes, and by allowing them to ripen to maturity means that they will not impart bitter woody tastes (like over-steeped tea, from the seeds) and will have more developed fruit aromas/flavors (from the skins). However, this often means that grapes are picked when they are at 26° brix, or sometimes higher. As brix is a measure of sugar, and sugar is converted to alcohol, wine made from these grapes would be high in alcohol: around 15% and higher. This is considered acceptable for some varieties, to some people. There is, of course, a way to lower the alcohol by adding water to the must to dilute the sugars. And depending on the philosophy of the winemaker, this is not only acceptable, but the right approach to making “balanced” wine in California.

Of course, when fruit ripens, becoming sweeter and sweeter, it lose acidity. And acidity is what makes wine good to drink with food, it makes it refreshing and cleanses the palate (think lemonade!) So to make balanced wine with grapes that are “phenolically” ripe, winemakers must add tartaric acid (a grape’s natural acid, though in this case from it has been extracted from grape sources, only to be added back to grapes) in addition to water. This may seem like a roundabout way of taking care of the problem... why not just harvest the grapes when the acid and sugars are in balance? I ask that question as well, and the answer I come up with is that wines with ripe fruit character sell. Also Americans are just not phased about having additives, from natural sources or not, in our food or drink. No one is really outraged about a little chemistry... after all some of us (read: I) drink Red Bull from time to time.

Now, to say that this (it has a name: water-backing) is common, is not to say that everybody does it. Just like not every wine is adulterated with Mega Purple. But just as Mega Purple is added to give uniform color to a wine to make a consistent product, water-backing provides the winemaker with a degree of control over the wine (specifically the alcohol content and acid) to create a uniform product that will be acceptable to the (American) market. Simple as that; its not romantic, its business.

There are winemakers out there who disagree, and question the acceptability of the practice. I’ve seen back labels that stated the ingredients in the wine, which read “organic grapes”. Of course I thought that it was BS. Besides being hard to imagine anyone making a reliable living depending on spontaneous fermentation, not adding yeast nutrients or enzymes, there is the question of what else could constitute an ingredient in wine making. After all, oak barrels play a significant role in the aroma, flavor and feel of a wine; should they to be included on the ingredient list - after all tannins from the oak leech into the wine. Another issue is vintage variation. With so much chemistry, and such ease of ripening, its easy to make a very consistent product from year to year. Great for creating a product, but frankly boring; if nothing ever changes, why put a date on the bottle? Lastly, if the grapes ripen so easily, to such high levels of sugar, it raises the question of how appropriate the variety is suited for the place. In physiological terms, grapes ripen faster in warm weather, but developing complex flavors takes a long slow ripening period. When you ripen too fast, you get too much sugar, not enough flavor. Though some would say that its just a different expression. Or, climate change can be tasted in the glass. And while water-backing is illegal in France under AOC rules, producers there have the right to add beet sugar to the must to increase alcohol. Is this any better or worse?

The point of all of this is not to question the decisions of winemakers and winery owners. Rather, it is to give context to this anecdote:
I found myself adding approximately 60 gallons of water to a tank of must to bring the brix down to 24°. To do this we use a large gauge that connects to the end of a hose via a quick release connector. The gauge is large, and heavy, and awkward to hold. And it takes about one minute for 10 gallons to flow, so I was looking at standing there, holding the gauge for six minutes. After about 30 seconds of holding the hose, I attempted to adjust it and find a more comfortable position. This is when the quick release connector came to rest on the edge of the fermentation tank, and did just that; it quickly release the water gauge. Right into the tank. And disappeared into a mess of grapes.
I stood there dumbstruck. There was really nothing I could do to retrieve it. I couldn’t get into the tank, or just reach in... it was 15 feet down a dark tank, under 6 feet of juice and 3 feet of grape skins. And there was no way to ignore it. Eventually I would have to tell somebody, because I would not be able to complete my tasks - it would look awfully weird if I went around carrying buckets of water instead of using the hose.

So I went to tell the cellar master, figuring, at least he would be able to find another water gauge. He left into action (literally... he is a bit hyper) while I stood there, still coming to terms with the idiotic thing I had just done. While I began to prepare to transfer all of the juice from one tank to another, then dig out the gauge from the remaining grape skins, the cellar master had already rigged up a crazy rake taped to a telescopic pole, and was ready to go fishing.
After just a few attempts, we managed to get the offending piece of metal out, much to the relief of the winemaker. And then he told me about the time he accidentally dropped a bin (yeah, a bin that holds a half ton of grapes) into one of the fermentors. That made me feel a little better.

On a related topic, some interesting articles on Natural Winemaking:

http://www.nytimes.com/2005/02/02/dining/02pour.html?_r=1

http://www.alicefeiring.com/feiringsquad/wine/natural_wines_t.html

http://www.vinography.com/archives/2009/09/natural_wine_the_panel_transcr.html

Sorting

2009-09-11T14:09:00.000-07:00

A visual accompaniment to the previous post. It basically shows the sorting table, the de-stemmer, and a "side dump" into an open top fermenter.

Enjoy.

M.O.G.

2009-09-09T13:51:00.000-07:00

Its been busy around the winery for the last 6 days. We’ve been getting loads of grapes in, 20 or 30 tons each day. As these grapes get processed, we need to punch down the caps or pump the juice over. But more on this later. The first thing that goes on is weighing and organizing the lots of bins that come in. Because each block of each vineyard gets sent to different tanks to be vinified separately, we need to keep them organized on the crush pad so that we don’t sent the wrong lot to wrong place, or mix lots together.

Once organized, these grapes will be visually inspected and sorted on a large conveyor belt. Bins are dumped on to the sorting table and we pull out any “Matter Other than Grapes”; leaves, twigs, rocks, frogs, crickets, dragonflies, clusters shriveled into raisin, second crop (latter blooming fruit that is unripe), and clusters infected by botrytis (noble rot). Each block of fruit, and sometimes each bin varies in how clean they are. Well farmed vineyards, with good picking crews, offer clean lots, and we let most of the grapes pass with only a few things to pick out. Some lots can be from problem areas, so infected by rot, with grapes so dehydrated as to resemble clods of gray dirt, that the speed of the conveyor must drops to a crawl so that we have time to pick it all out.

While at the sorting table, I asked the assistant winemaker about the quality of the fruit we were sorting, and weather is might deserve a vineyard designate wine. His answer was that he didn’t know. Perhaps, but that could only be determined once it was wine, and of course, the wine would have to be distinctive enough to merit being held apart. This is why, the most important step in the whole process of winemaking is probably keeping individual lots separate and organized. Later in the year, the winemakers will sit down and taste and analyze and give thought to what belongs where, blended or set apart. But by fermenting them separately, they are taking part in a long, slow experiment to determine the characteristics of a vineyard, or a portion of a vineyard.

Our pace is determined by the type of fermenter (open or closed top) we will use for that lot. For open top fermenters, which will require punch-downs (to extract color and flavor from the skins), we dump the fruit directly into the tank from the bin, using the forklift. This means we have to change out bins and wait for forklift drivers. With closed top fermenters, we attach a must pump that continually drives the juice and berries into a tank. This leads to faster sorting, but tunnel vision ensues. And when I close my eyes at night, all I can see is grapes, passing by me, and my muscles strain to grab at the leaves and unripe clusters.

By the noon, after sorting for over 4 hours, the table is sticky from sugary grape juice, and I as well am covered with sticky juice, up to my elbows. The front of my pants, covered in juice has collected twigs and leaves. We must hose down the table and bins and de-stemmer before we break for lunch, lest the juice dries out, leaving an near impossible cleaning task for the end of the day. Even so, after another four hours of sorting in the afternoon, the equipment is covered in a layer of sugar and tartaric acid that has built up and needs to be pressure washed off.

56 seconds of automated winemaking

2009-09-01T13:12:00.000-07:00

Here is a short video of our first fruit coming in.

First (red) grapes

2009-08-31T12:58:00.000-07:00

Our first fruit arrived today. Nine tons, approximately. Which sounds like a lot, but its rather a small amount, when dealing with 2000+ gallon tanks. The pinot noir was not high quality fruit, rather this will be used for blending in a low end bottling, or may end up being sold on the bulk market, bottled, labeled and sold under a different brand.

Its hard to say why these grapes are of lesser quality, as their sugars and acid match our targets. Yet, these grapes come from a warmer region, ripen faster and are cropped at higher tonnage per acre, which all combine to reduce the intensity of flavor in the resultant wine... something that is hard to imagine when plucking one from the bin and popping it into your mouth. They taste of grapes after all, not black cherries, wet wood, cocoa or any other descriptor you would likely get in a pinot noir wine. The winemakers art it to picture this future manifestation and make his decisions based on this potential.

But beings grapes determined to be destined for lesser futures, our operative was to process these grapes quickly. Its stunning how automated much of this process can be. After weighing the bins, forklifts lift bins into a tray, which tips the grapes into a hopper. An auger feeds the grapes into the de-stemmer/crusher, which dumps berry skins and juice into an auger fed pump, which leads to a fermentation tank. While doing this, small amounts of sulfur dioxide solution are added (to prevent bacterial spoilage; see earlier post), as well as dry ice, which keeps the must temperatures down to slow fermentation. The twenty or so bins of grapes were processed rather quickly, leaving only clean-up.
A video of the whole process will follow.

Hazards of Lunch

2009-08-29T06:49:00.000-07:00

Much of the permanent cellar crew here at the winery, are Mexican in origin. And one of the pleasures of working with them, aside from learning Spanglish, is lunchtime. We all eat a leisurely lunch in the shade of the winery garden at communal picnic table. The Mexicans often share their overflowing tuperwares, with the oft repeated question, “Taco?”

Beside corn tortillas, the other staple is chillies. All sizes and colors are brought out, with commentary on their flavor, heat and so on. Of course, spicy scales are very personal, and its hard to know what it means when someone says that a certain chili can be eaten like candy.

This last week, I was enjoying my simple pasta lunch, then was temped to try a bright red jalapeño. At first it was sweet and tangy, then it was intensely hot.
Then I rubbed my eye.
Even through I had washed my hands, there was still some oil on my fingers. How ironic that the ignition of my eye with volatile chili fluid occurred right before our general harvest safety meeting. Next time I have chilies with lunch, I’m wearing gloves.

Cellaring wine

2009-08-28T04:04:00.000-07:00

A few lots of last year’s wine still remain in the cellar room; some five tanks, and a little over 50 barrels. We took the barrels down from their stacks, with the fork lift, and gingerly set them outside while it was still cool outside. We are taking samples to measure sulfur level.

Sulfur occurs naturally in wine. During fermentation, yeast break down amino acids to make nitrogen available, and some of which contain sulfur atoms. When this sulfur is released, it bonds to oxygen, creating sulfites. It is serendipitous that these sulfites occur naturally, as they are beneficial, preventing oxidation and bacterial spoilage. But they often occur at very low levels, and dissipate over time, making the wine vulnerable, which is why we add sulfites to wine... anything other than a clean, fresh tasting wine would be unmarketable. So we measure the wine for sulfur levels, and then make additions as necessary.

The bungs are cleaned before prying them out of the barrels. A wine thief is inserted and lots are aggregated into beakers which are then sent to the lab. Meanwhile, reserve wine is brought out of the cellar, pumps and hoses attached. Once additions are made, we pump reserve wine into the barrel to top them off, then pound in clean rubber bungs with a mallet. Keeping the barrels full means less oxidation.

The tanks are adjusted too. Sampling from the tank is much easier, if messier. 3000 gallons are held back by valves. When opened slightly, wine sprays furiously, so we keep the beakers close and we stand to one side. Adjusting means climbing to the catwalk and opening a sealed hatch. Its mixing that's the problem. A propeller has to be inserted into a sealed tank to turn over 3000 gallons of wine, then removed. Order of operations becomes imperative; clamping, sealing, opening, locking, always double checking, and working though the set of actions. From there the tanks and barrels rest, waiting for bottling.

Sanitation

2009-08-24T12:33:00.000-07:00

The landscape is slow and beautiful; the fog is there when you wake up. It reaches through Napa, up the valley, and hangs out in Los Carneros past 11:00 am. The afternoon is warm, but the winds blow through the vine-rows. The circuitry of the PV array hums, the bird canon sounds every few minutes, bats chirp from their roost.

The process of preparing for harvest begins with cleaning. The fermenters are covered in cobwebs and pigeon droppings, despite the bird netting. Last years wine is bottled, or mellowing in barrels. You drag hoses from place to place, filling buckets, and spraying the tanks. You mix solvents, cleaners, sanitizer. You climb in through port holes, stainless steel gymnastics, vinifying yoga. You scrub, spray, rinse, and exit in reverse. Repeat. Barrels are

cleaned. Dark berry and carmel wood aromas are being washed out and into a grate in the concrete. You seal the tanks with rubber gaskets, clean tarpaulin covers and plastic sheets. Dozens of different types of containers pile up. Macro bins, five gallon buckets, French oak barrels, steel kegs, glass bottles. Plumbing is everywhere; water, glycol, nitrogen, air. As grapes become wine, we will begin to juggle them from one container to another. Pumps pushing must into tanks, nitrogen pushing newly fermented wine into barrels.

Wine, as an agricultural produce takes time, preparation, planning, thought. It is not a product that can be delivered to market carelessly or immediately. You think about it, test it, sort it, process it, package it, market it, ask it to be considered, consumed thoughtfully. Producing wine is very involving. There is a considerable team of people working in concert, for the next few months trying to transform raw fruit into a value added product, a more complex expression, a preserved context. But for now, we wait for the grapes to ripen. They are on their own schedule, carefree of our desires. They ripen slowly, we sample them, de-stem them, crush them strain them, then test them, for sugars and acids. And we wait.

The Silverado Trail

2009-08-23T07:52:00.000-07:00

Yesterday I went for a ride from Napa up the Silverado Trail to St. Helena. It was about 20 miles up there. The road was well paved with a wide shoulder, wineries located every half mile. The early afternoon was pleasant, but on the way back the wind picked up and tired me out as I headed back to Napa.

St. Helena was nice, full of art galleries and home-ware stores, not least of all the CIA Greystone campus store. I passed by the new LEED Gold dormitories for culinary students, stopped by a wine store for a tasting, and then headed back.

The valley is amazingly beautiful. The oak shrub hilltops, and the flat valley floor, rows of cabernet, the small towns and hotspot restaurants. The trucks hauling bins to wineries use the same roads as the tourist buses. Although its still seems buzzing with people, the number of people out here is definitely less than I expected, due I'm sure, to less disposable income. Still, the grapes will ripen and be vinified, just like any other year. I'm still waiting for the grapes to arrive at the winery; perhaps by the end of the week.

Harvest in Los Carneros

2009-08-20T13:41:00.000-07:00

It is August, and I have temporarily relocated to Napa. I am taking a break from my desk job, and I am working a harvest as a cellar intern. I am doing this because I want to see what goes into making wine. I want to follow the process and learn the production of wine. I want to be one of the sets of hands that touches the clusters of grapes that turns into wine, and reflect on what it took to make that barrel, that bottle of wine. I want to be close to what wine is. And so I have begun work at a medium sized winery in the Carneros district of Napa, south of the town, where the fog lingers, the wind blows in the afternoon and pinot noir rules. I’ll be documenting what I can of the harvest, sharing the day to day, as well as the revelations.

Weddings planning: the anti-wine

2009-05-22T01:12:00.000-07:00

I have been so focused on wedding planning recently that, even with all the inspiring wine I've tasted and wine events I've attended, I have next to no free time to write about them. Sadly, weddings also seem to drain one's budget for buying wine...

At the start of May, I attended the Portland Indie Wine Festival. This was a fantastic event, organized by LAD Communications and others. The food booths were all terrific, making it easy not just to find a ballast to all the wine being poured, but to find interesting pairings and imagine many more possibilities. On the whole, the pinot noirs being poured were young, but still very interesting. No winemaker there seemed to shy away from acid, though some expressions were very tight, and reinforced by young tannins may the wines seem unrevealing. The most interesting group, for me, was the Chehalem Mountain wines, which tended to be exceptionally balanced, with lots to offer upfront and on the follow through. Beyond the pinot's, it was interesting to know the growing diversity of varietals being made, if not grown in Oregon. There were Cabernet Sauvignon, Franc, Rieslings, Syrahs and others. Also, as wine festivals go, this was manageable, personal and light-hearted. I will, if possible, return next year, hopefully with the intention to stock up on favorites.

Soon after this, our Wine Club met for a Spain and Portugal night. This was more a survey of Iberian wine, with both red and whites, and even a LBV Port. The wines tasted got me excited for more exploration in this area (after all, this is the purpose of the club). The following night, we had dinner at Vij's with friends, where low and behold, we sampled some more Spanish wine. I'm continually impressed with Vij's wine list, offering a broad selection that befits their eclectic menu. Indian restaurants are not typically known to have great wine lists. The ongoing trend of food fusion, spurred by globalization, was inevitably going to bring together the West's refined drinking tradition with the East's fascinating and complex foods. Plus, crisp pinot gris helps wash the chillies down.

This weekend I am taking the WSET Intermediate Course, and will be sitting the exam the following weekend. Having ready through the course book, I'm not expecting any revelations from the course material, though I hope to find some interesting examples for tasting and discussion. What I fear is that these tastings will focus too much on the international varietals, without hinting at the diverse world of lesser-knowns.

More on Peynaud

2009-04-25T03:09:00.000-07:00

I came across this article, which talks about Emile Peynaud. Its interesting to note that a term (Peynaudization) was coined, reflecting his influence.

Read it... I did.

Joly on Biodynamics

2009-04-22T14:46:00.000-07:00

I'm almost finished with Nicolas Joly's book "Demystifying Biodynamic Wine". His passion and personality shine through in his writing, but you still have to have an open mind about biodynamics to get into the content. One theme that is constant is how there is a tangible and intangible world made up of matter and energies, and when these are harmonious and balanced, and when we treat the process with respect, something greater is allowed to happen. It reminds me a bit of yoga, or religion, and for that matter, the experience of drinking wine. These are all things which are often hard to describe and explain, and work on faith or feeling. And it's hard to deny these things once you've experienced them.

Broad, but not Deep

2009-04-20T14:45:00.000-07:00

After meditating on the subject for several weeks (okay, not meditating per se), I thought I would pass on these three jems I picked up from the 2009 Vancouver International Wine Festival:

Avoid people who ask to “try the chardy”, they just want to drink.

Pregnant women, even if you are a rep, and its your job to be there, should not be at wine festivals. We will still judge you.

Bring your own spit cup. You will be so much better off.

"Broad, but not deep" pretty much sums up how I feel about the event. It's certainly a conflicting set of emotions I come away with. On the one hand, my personality and interest in wine desired the geeky discussions about specific subjects, asking the hard questions, and bringing forth worthy answers. But, I am still, in a big picture sense, a novice taster, and thus the opportunity this wine festival afforded me was invaluable.

By volunteering, I was able to get a free ticket to the International Tasting Room, and sit in on two seminars. Thursday (March 26th) I toured the tasting hall, with over 175 booths, pouring some 8800+ wines. I chose to limit my tour to French producers with a handful of Californian wines thrown in for good measure. Clearly, I have a slanted perspective, and I know I missed out on opening my horizons more to Italian and Spanish wines.

Even with the opportunity to try some fantastic 1er Cru and Grand Cru Burgundy and Alsace wines, I was frustrated by the distracting environment, which was noisy, poorly lit (yes, they dimmed the room) and crowded (which made getting to the spittoons difficult.)

Another frustration was the lack of meaningful organization. The hall was divided into two man areas; BC wines and everybody else. These two groups were then organized alphabetically. This made the tasting hall very schizophrenic, with big reds next to elegant whites, and silky reds next to flabby whites. Although I had drafted out a rough plan for the evening, and highlighted several producers I wanted to see, I could have used another 2 hours to plan the attack. There were some excellent whites (Monrachets and Corton-Charlemange) which were dulled, if not lost to me due to tannin fatigue. The flip side of this is the joy of finding something unexpected that stands out. This happened to me with a Morgan from Domaine Piron. The wine was fragrant and compelling, and stood out because of its unassuming but well composed harmony.

The interesting thing is that the lack of organization made no difference to the BC section. The seminar on Saturday, Icons of B.C, demonstrated this well. Aside from the lack of cohession to the group the wines poured, it felt self congratulatory, especially with the winemakers present. And besides the moderators and winemakers, no one else choose to speak about these wines or even ask questions. The Okanagan Valley is one of the youngest wine producing areas in the world. It does produce a handful of quality and interesting wines (generally aromatic whites), but on the whole, the region is too untested, too small, too inconsistent and too overpriced to take itself as seriously as it does. On a positive note, by highlighting B.C. wines as one of the themes this year, the Wine Festival may have exposed the faults and strenghts of the this wine region. Hopefully this will encourage people in the region to focus on the strenghts, and it will encourage to demand better results from their local producers, especially when offered so much choice from the international market.

Recent Reading

2009-04-14T15:02:00.000-07:00

I just finished Emile Peynaud's The Taste of Wine. Although it was professorial and very technical in parts, it did offer an extremely thorough look at the sensory aspects of wine and mechanics of how we taste. One of the most interesting discussions came towards the end of the book; a short discussion on the concept of cru. This is often translated into growth in English, as in première cru = first growth. What got my attention is how Peynaud's definition of the word compared to his definition of terroir. (Ah! terroir, that over used nebulous French concept-word.) Terroir, in Paynaud's description only accounts for site and soil (which implies degree days, sun aspect, drainage, etc.), whereas cru relates aspects of terroir to man and agricultural production. Terroir, in a sense, is a fixed set of parameters, but cru is how a producer uses those parameters for a qualitative expression, encompassing methods of production and tradition. Cru, therefore, is a much more useful word when talking about wine than terroir. After all, and Peynaud stresses this, wine is a human cultural product. Quality in wine is in large part determined by the choices that a given vingeron makes. Whereas terroir can only offer a potential, man must strive to fulfill that potential.

Double Feature

2009-03-01T16:14:00.000-08:00

This past week brought two events: a wine tasting club field trip to Salt, and a dinner at Barbra-Jo's presented by Anthony Nicalo of Farmstead Wines.

The evening at Salt was put together on short notice for our tasting club, with little idea of how it would all work out. Fortunately, all thirteen of us were accommodated nicely at their large table in the main dinning room. On the fly we managed to decide on a format; select two bottles at a time to be poured, let the server take care of the rest. We were served platters of cheese, charcuterie and condiments. The wines were mostly good, with a few surprises. Notably, a 1er cru Chablis (elegant with developing complexity, though lost when paired with most of the food), and a primitivo (known in North America as zinfandel) from Italy. Up until Thursday, I had not found a zinfandel that I really cared for. This primitivo, on the other hand, was perfumed and bold, but still balanced (even at 14.5%). Its given me a reason to keep on looking for a good zinfandel. In all, the evening at Salt was light hearted and filled with good conversation. (For tasting notes please click here.)

In contrast, the dinner at Barbara-Jo's was much more focused. The wines were more challenging, and correspondingly a more challenging set of ideas were presented. Anthony Nicalo began by talking about the idea of a vigneron. In France, as in many other places in the Old World, the act of growing grapes, and making wine is encompassed in one title. The English bastardization for this term, in use in 17th century England, is vinaroon. This reminded me that, too often the act of thinking and doing are separate. Like any craftsperson, a vinaroons responsibility is to make thoughtfull choices through actions. The wines that Anthony presented to us were all produced by producers that were also growers, people who had complete control over the decisions and execution of their product (and often made choices to grow organically or biodynamically and vinify with minimal intervention).

My descriptive abilities are bound to fail when talking about these wines. However, I will offer that these wines provided me with a new sense of the complexity possible in wine. They all had personalities that stayed with me thoughtout the evining, and complimented the meal beautifully. Although all the wines were outstanding, the Pinot Gris Vendange Tardive was sublime, and probably the best desert wine I have ever tasted.

As a parting thought, Anthony evoked Wendell Berry, saying that we make chocies about how agriculture is practiced, by the food that we buy and consume. It follows, therefore, that if we care deeply about quality food, sustainably raised, we should pay the same attantion to the wine we drink.

User instructions...

2009-02-22T17:43:00.000-08:00

Let me start by saying I am a food lover, and a wine drinker. I care passionately about where my food and wine come from, and also what they mean to us. Wine embodies more than just hedonism, but our cultural values, and yes, even a bit of magic.

This site is dedicated to my musings on wine. ~~Plain and simple. I do not intend to review wines, rate wines, or dissect wines.~~ [Update: February, 2011] I have also decided to share my tasting notes. My hesitation has been overcome with a desire to grow in my ability to share my experiences, including what is actually in the glass. I would also like to make an effort to reveal wines, available in the local market (Portland, OR) that I believe offer good value and good drinking. I will continue to ~~I will however, try to~~ share anecdotes relating to wine, insights (or misguided ideas), and my experiences with wine and food.

This is also a venue to discuss group events, including the tasting club, ~~and share my newsletters through the links on the sidebar.~~ [Update: February, 2011] and I hope to share my thoughts about tasting groups with regular posts.

Read. Contribute. Enjoy.