élevage

A different kind of letting go

2012-01-18T21:01:00.000-08:00

This bottle, the 2006 Domaine Meo Camuzet Bourgogne Hautes-Cotes de Nuits Clos Saint-Philibert, should have been wonderful. Again, wine from a top producer but not a top bottling. In this case, a simple Hautes-Cotes from a single vineyard, Clos Saint-Philibert, perched above the fanciest vineyard land in the world - Vosne Romanee. Meaning, this should be good. It is. I tried it a few years ago on release and bought a couple with the intent of aging them for a few years. So here we were, and here was a beautiful pair of Dungeness crab, ready for eating with a friend while watching the 49ers playoff game. A little bit of decadence on a Saturday afternoon.

Alas, the wine was corked. And so down the drain. Who cares. The crab was incredibly good and the game even better. So there.

Letting go

2012-01-16T12:54:00.000-08:00

We are constantly letting go.

I'm reminded of this lately by my sister, who is writing a lovely blog called One Item a Day about her plan this year to get rid of one thing per day. It's a brilliant idea. The blog is sweet and poignant, extremely personal. It's all about letting go.

It's funny because in November I went through my wine cellar to do something similar. For one reason or another, I have many wines, mostly older ones, that need to be let go. Some are sure to be great, but they apparently need special occasions that never seem to come. Others are past their best, probably anyway, and that uncertainty is part of what makes letting go. Will it be a let down? I write that and I think, so what. It's just a bottle of wine. And yet here we are. Surely it's about more than that.

I bought the bottle to the right, the 2000 Henschke Keyneton Estate, almost four years ago. A single bottle from the best Australian producer (the one I would choose anyway), but not their top cuvee by a long shot and not something I should have held this long. Why did I? Maybe because I bid on it on my 39th birthday, in Manzanita, OR, from the kitchen table of a beachfront rental house shared with my parents. Readers may remember that birthday was particularly poignant for me. This bottle, only connected to that moment by chance, became part of that day, a foggy, misty memory now, Edenic.

Imagine a book that dissolves as you read it. That's how wine is. A memory. So this bottle sat, unopened, until November when I lined it up with many others and resolved to treat it differently than I had. To confront things, in a way. Then the other night I pulled the cork, a little nervous. Would I be disappointed? The wine tasted decent but was a little herbal and soft, the negatives compounded by enough age that the flavors simply lacked life. The wine wasn't dead at all, just gone. We often speak of a wine that sings. This wine was silent. I wanted it to be so good, better than it had any reason to be. It wasn't, and I should have known better.

A post from last weekend on my sister's blog brought all of this together for me. She wrote about finding long lost x-rays of her son's troubled esophagaus, from one point among others in his young life when she and her husband weren't sure he would survive the complications of Down's syndrome. About her tears finding something she forgot she even had, the old x-rays, and the feeling of how can something you forgot you had trigger such emotion and be so difficult to let go? Of course, we know the answer. We can all relate, no? It doesn't make it easier though.

That post in turn reminded me of a Lorrie Moore's devastating "People Like That Are The Only People Here." That story captures unlike any other how parenting must be about letting go. No matter what. The same with children I suppose. We are constantly letting go.

Christmas 2011 at home

2011-12-25T19:03:00.000-08:00

Merry Christmas, dear reader. I'm home this year after several holidays at my childhood home in Los Angeles. Everything is focused on home, how good home feels, especially at Christmas.

For me, wine is always secondary at the holidays. Essential for the great holiday meals. Enjoyable for visiting with neighbors, family and friends. Just not the focus, and not necessarily the best match for my favorite holiday foods. One thing I'm missing this year in Portland are some good tamales, something I'd like to make fresh for Christmas one of these years, once I learn how to make them.

On Christmas night, it's just the family at home at the 1998 Laurel Glen Cabernet Sauvignon Sonoma Mountain and flat iron steak, a onion and gruyere tart, Brussels sprouts (yes, named for the city) and the most essential of holiday foods, the mashed potato. Dinner will surely be delicious.

But the wine? It is mature, lovely and ready now but I'm sure has the staying power this producer is known for. This is aromatic cabernet, more in the Loire style than Bordeaux, more about tobacco and herbs and the caramelization of age than heavier, richer cabernet of the Medoc. If you're into that, and I am, this is a wine you will love, treasure even. Something you'll keep when others might not, sure you'll be rewarded. I'm sure you will.

This is how Christmas should be. Home. And for those who can't be home yet, a taste of what will be.

Harvest 2011 part 7: celebration

2011-12-08T18:34:00.001-08:00

Harvest 2011 in Oregon's Willamette Valley is complete. The grapes picked, the new wines safely through fermentation and in barrel (unless you're Barnaby at Teutonic Wine Company, who told me last week that he was picking his last riesling on Saturday - December 3!).

All that remains is the harvest celebration. This year the Guild Winemakers bunch celebrated together, a low key gathering of partners to talk about the harvest and anything else that came to mind. Such get togethers never last long enough. Why can't meals with friends last for days instead of hours?

I thought it appropriate to mark the occasion with an older wine I recently found. So the 1987 Nozzole Chianti Classico Riserva, pale in candlelight, brilliantly translucent, more than alive, growing with airtime to show its Tuscan sangiovese roots and all the layers of time. Not a great wine, but certainly pleasurable, much more than just a novelty of the past, so beautiful.

This harvest, this whole year was incredible. Unusual. Something I don't want to go through again. But the results are incredibly exciting. The wines we have in barrel taste electric. Ripe with a burst of flavor and yet so full of energy, so lively. They need to settle down and complete the secondary malolactic fermentation, which softens the young wine. Then time in barrel and bottle. Time will be everything for these wines.

We won't really see what we have for ten years, though of course we will check in frequently along the way, in cask and bottle. Already barrels need topping up only a few weeks after being filled. Otherwise, there is little to do now that harvest is done. This time is the elevage, the education of the wine, requiring patience.

So we eat and drink and finish the year, glad to be through with harvest and ready now for everything else a year brings. Harvest will be back again soon enough. But let's drink a little more old Chianti before thinking about that.

Harvest 2011 part 6: barreling

2011-11-29T22:30:00.001-08:00

At this point, the new wine from each fermenter settles for a few days in a separate container. Press wine is kept separate as well. Everything settles for a few days before the wine goes into barrel. All that's left to do now is fill barrels.

Filling barrels means washing barrels first, then smelling them to see if they're fit for wine. These two look beautiful and smell sweet and fresh despite a few years of prior use. Good French oak - all we use - is a wonderful thing for wine.

Each barrel gets filled and tagged with a note on what's inside. Barrels are paired side by side on racks, the racks then stacked three high and put away into the barrel storage area.

To wait. And wait.

Through the winter and spring, when the malolactic fermentation will happen, softening what are now young, raw wines. Then into the summer, before the wines will be drawn off the fine sediment that settles out in barrel and blended for bottling before the next harvest.

Once the last barrel is filled and the final tanks and hoses cleaned out, harvest is done. Now it's time for a harvest dinner to celebrate the vintage. Tomorrow night in fact, I can't wait.

Harvest 2011 part 5: draining

2011-11-27T18:49:00.001-08:00

Draining and pressing is what you do once the red wine is done fermenting.

We begin by tipping a small fermenter and putting a siphon into the grapes and new wine.

As the wine is gently pumped out, the grape skins floating on the surface of the liquid gradually drop to the bottom of the bin. I like how they cling to the top of the "torpedo" that sucks out the wine.

The new wine goes into a tank to settle before going into barrel. The grape skins go into the press to squeeze out every last bit of juice. Here you see how we use the fork lift to dump the grapes into the press.

The big pan under the press captures the milky press wine, which we pump into a separate tank to settle before it goes also into barrel.

The pump, with hoses not in proper order.

Wise advice on the press, full of moving parts.

The harvest lunch table. Ok, this is exceptional, but nearing the end of harvest means more time to celebrate things. All that's left to do is put the new wine into barrel.

Harvest 2011 part 4: plunging

2011-11-21T22:31:00.001-08:00

Pumping over Vincent Pinot Noir, once early on to give oxygen to the yeast.

Waiting this year for the fermenters to start their fermenting was especially nerve wracking for me. Last year one fermenter went a little sideways on me. The resulting wine was good, just not what it might have been. This year, a few days into crush I was sure something was terribly wrong with everything. I felt an inexplicable doubt about the whole process, the doing nothing, waiting for luck to happen. Still we did nothing, waiting for some good carbon dioxide to emerge before plunging the first time. Finally it happened.

Plunging Bjornson vineyard, never shy on color. Very interesting, muscular Pin

Before harvest, a thread on Wine Berserkers offered a nice debate on how many or few punchdowns make sense for Pinot noir. One camp says just a few are necessary. Another camp, predominant in the U.S., says no, no, no, frequent punchdowns are required to extract color and flavor, not to mention keeping the fermentation healthy and happy. I felt some bravado and wrote about how we don't punchdown much, how at a winemaking conference we heard from a famous producer in Burgundy about the "one" punchdown they do for the top end Musigny. Turns out we did between eight and 10 punchdowns in each fermenter over 18 days, more than I would have guessed but still not a lot compared to usual regimes locally. The wines don't lack for color and the fermentations were extremely healthy, so it just didn't make sense to do anything more. Same with yeast foods or anything else. The grapes were terrific this year. And plunging fewer times helps let the natural core of heat in the fermenter build up, rather than constantly mixing things up and wondering why the temperature isn't going up.

I'm not about color in Pinot noir, but this is remarkable nonetheless.

The result? Beautiful, young, raw wine that needs time in wood. Time it now gets, harvest completely done, all new wines in barrel. The vibrant color of new wine is unmatched. You may not love the green apple acidity of this unfinished drink, but that color is remarkable. Astonishing even.

Harvest 2011 part 3: waiting

2011-11-16T21:36:00.001-08:00

Last time I wrote about bringing in several tons of Pinot noir from Armstrong Vineyard on this past October 20. Turns out that same day, we also brought in Vincent Wine Company's one ton of Pinot from Zenith Vineyard in the Eola-Amity Hills. With the three fermenters full of Armstrong fruit, we ended the day with four full fermenters of destemmed grapes ready to become wine.

So how does that happen? Every which way you can imagine. You can add yeast or let ambient yeast spontaneously ferment the grapes. You can chill the grapes before they start to ferment to let them "cold soak," so that color, texture, flavor and aroma elements in the grapes can gently steep into the grape juice before alcohol has been created. You can heat the grapes to encourage fermentation, much as you might put dough in a warm place to rise. You can add nutrients to feed the yeast and keep them healthy. Sugar to boost alcohol levels in the finished wine in cold years like this one. Acidity to boost acid levels if the grapes are too ripe (not much of an issue this year). Tannin to fix color and, yes, soften the texture of the finished wine. Enzymes to help the grape matter break down more readily, for enhanced extraction. Sulfur dioxide as a preservative. You name it.

No matter what you choose to do or not do in your winemaking, fermentation is all about sugar in the grapes and grape juice changing into alcohol, producing carbon dioxide and heat in the process. The winemaker simply wants to guide the process. Our process is to do that extremely minimally. This year the approach was this:

Pick and process the grapes
Let them soak at ambient temperature until they begin to ferment on their own
Do one "pump over" - using a pump to suck out the juice at the bottom of the fermenter and spraying it over the top, to mix the juice and give air to the yeast
Do nothing for days until fermentation is active enough so you get a little hit from the carbon dioxide of fermentation
That means nothing - no punch downs or pump overs - just a little spritz of sulfur if necessary to keep things fresh
Once fermentation is nice and active - after about 10 days - the first punch down is highly aerative to feed the yeast more
Then punchdowns once a day for the six to eight days as the yeast convert sugar to alcohol and temperatures in the fermenter get into the 80sF if not 90F.
Drain the new wine and press the grape skins to get everything out
Let the new wine settle for a couple days, then put into barrel for the winter

With the late harvest and cold temperatures when it came time to make wine, we played with some aquarium heaters to help encourage the spontaneous fermentation in some bins. With the last fermenter, we didn't even use heat. We just waited, with patience knowing everything would work out. And it did.

In the end, we saw some nicely flavored and colored wines from Armstrong and Zenith. Good raw material you might say, fully ripe tasting but with alcohols in the 12.5% and bright acidity, wine that will change dramatically in barrel but already you know it's going to be good. 2011 is that kind of year.

Harvest 2011 part 2: grapes!

2011-11-14T19:05:00.001-08:00

8am, October 20 at Armstrong vineyard on Ribbon Ridge. Picking bins scattered around the vineyard and a fast crew of pickers working through the rows. The Vincent Wine Company harvest begins.

In most years, October 20 would see the last grapes coming in to local wineries. Ok, some late, late pickers and people who make Riesling would still be holding on. The point remains, this was a very late beginning to harvest and yet look at the sky. Beautifully blue, the ground dry, even a bit dusty after more than a week of dry weather (that would continue almost through the month).

A little while later, four tons of gorgeous Pinot noir clusters rest in a series of bins, waiting to be loaded on a flat bed truck that will take them to the winery. As the bins get filled with buckets of freshly picked grapes, a few of us pick out any rotten clusters, leaves and anything that doesn't look good.

I always like to taste berries and occasionally chomp into a cluster to see how things taste, careful to avoid seeds. This year, the flavors are ripe but the acidity seems strong, giving a fresh quality to the flavors, an energy that I'm looking for. The grape skins seem relatively thick, perhaps because of the cool year, and I think that I want to make sure the wines don't end up too tannic. File that thought away.

Later at the winery, our trusty grower Doug Ackerman (right) and several other kind volunteers help do another sort of the grapes. Again, we pull out any rotten cluster we find, any leaves, anything we don't want in the fermenters. It's tedious work but vital for producing great wine. The volunteers' reward? Fun talking wine and everything else you can imagine on the sorting line. Then some dinner and wine for taking home. Thank you volunteers!

From here, the clusters go through the destemmer to separate the grapes from their stems, dropping the berries into a fermenter waiting below. We end up filling three small fermenters with the fruit from three different blocks at Armstrong, each to be fermented and barrel aged separately before we blend in about year before bottling. Now comes the waiting period, where the grapes sit undisturbed until they ferment on their own. This year, as usual, it takes several days to begin. More on that next time.

Harvest 2011, part 1 - it's a miracle

2011-11-12T10:48:00.001-08:00

Yes, always.

Seriously, that has to be the answer if anyone ever again asks if the harvest is going to turn out. After this year, how could you say any different?

In the brief history of wine grape growing in Oregon's Willamette Valley, this year was historically cold and late. How late? Bud break in Pinot noir vines that should be in full swing in mid-April was still happening after Mother's Day because spring was so wet and cold. Flowering should happen by mid-June. This year it finally occurred on and after the fourth of July for the same reason. But the weather was great for flowering, meaning that lots of flowers that might have been knocked off by June wind and rain actually set as fruit, making for a potentially huge crop that might never get ripe. So growers immediately went into major triage mode, cutting off lots of new grape clusters to reduce the size of the crop in the hope of making sure what remained on the vines would actually ripen. Crop thinning happens every year, but this year it was more important than ever.

A nice benchmark for grape growing locally is that you might harvest grapes 100 days after flowering. So when flowering peaked in early July, I wrote here that we might begin picking around October 12. Ideally you would get more than those 100 days to further develop grape flavors and tannin, but this year that would put harvest into late October and early November for the coolest sites. If you don't know Willamette Valley weather, understand that we have warm and dry summers that often last into October. This is a great place for grape growing. But ask any kid around here - come Halloween it's usually cold, wet and windy. You really don't want to be sitting there in July thinking about harvesting grapes around Halloween, so you can imagine how hard it was to stay optimistic this year.

July proceeded to be relatively cool though dry, with August continuing the dry streak and summer temperatures finally coming on strong. I believe we didn't hit 90F locally until mid-August, ridiculously late for such a benchmark. Then the season began to turn in our favor. September was warmer overall than July and we entered October still facing a mid-month start to harvest, but on the cusp of something special if the weather held out.

It didn't, at least at first. Early October saw a quick change to autumn with cold temps and rain. Immediately we saw media reports of a ruined harvest, before any grapes had been picked. I'll admit, it was hard to remain optimistic, but what choice did we have? Then the skies cleared and the rest of October was amazingly mild and notably dry, perfect for ripening grapes. Finally, on October 20 it was time for our first pick of the season, at Armstrong vineyard on Ribbon Ridge.

How did it go? The picture at the top shows the sunrise October 20 from Bell Road as I made my way out to the vineyard. No fog, no rain, just a beautiful, perfect morning that told me we indeed had something special about to happen. Stay tuned for part 2, which won't take another month to write up. Harvest is finally about done and I couldn't be more excited for the results. Plus, now I have a little free time again.

Harvest 2011 begins, finally

2011-10-19T22:22:00.001-07:00

Harvest 2011 begins Thursday for Vincent Wine Company. We’re picking everything from our blocks at Armstrong Vineyard on Ribbon Ridge and Zenith Vineyard in the Eola-Amity Hills. I am so excited. After this crazy growing season, where historic cold weather delayed budbreak until May and flowering until July, we’re near the end of October and finally we pick grapes.

How is the quality? We won’t really know until we have the fruit in the fermenters, but sugar levels are in the low 20s brix and pHs are in the 3.2 to 3.3 range. Just where I want them, for making wines with ripe flavors but energy, life, acid balance. Flavors are mixed, meaning some pretty explosive tasting berries and others with some bracing qualities that I prize. Let’s remember, we’re making wine, not fruit juice or eating grapes. I think grape flavors are overrated. Wine is a curing process. We’re taking raw meat and making bacon. There’s a big difference in the two. I’m looking for something in the final product that you can’t necessarily see in the raw material. What I want now are healthy, ripe grapes from a successful growing season. We have that.

And what a crazy growing season it was. A good indicator of a growing season here is at least 100 days from flowering until harvest, maybe 110 or longer depending on the season. Our early July flowering meant 100 days would be around October 12. In many years, we’d finish picking at that time. This year we knew we probably wouldn’t even begin until then. Crazy. Harvest is an outdoor activity. Does anyone think that outdoor events in the Willamette Valley in mid-October or later is a good idea?

Now, on the eve of October 20, we will finally pick. The grapes have had a long season after all. Turns out we’ve gotten the weather we need and things are turning out. I wouldn’t advise more seasons like this. Don’t plan an outdoor wedding this time of year. But for now, it looks like we might get lucky.

Stay tuned for more on harvest. Now I need some sleep. Tomorrow is going to be a long, and I hope great, day.

Harvest approaches in the Willamette Valley

2011-10-13T23:13:00.000-07:00

It's weird to say in mid-October that harvest hasn't really started in the Willamette Valley. Yes, some white grapes are in. The Pinot, however, waits. Along with pretty much everything else.

This year is indeed historic. Cold. Late. Essentially unprecedented. In response, growers have mostly cut back to one cluster of grapes per vine shoot. The idea is to limit the grape crop to make sure what you still have on the vines will get ripe, even in an historically cold year.

The funny thing is, flowering took place during perfect weather around July 4. Late, but perfect. As a result, grape clusters on average are well above normal. We still haven't picked, but I'm seeing 150g to 200g clusters of Pinot Noir. Usually that might be 80g to 120g or so, depending on the clones or types of Pinot Noir sub-varieties.

I'm thinking the story this year isn't the cold weather or late harvest. September was like July should have been. We've had a nice growing season. The clouds are due to break and we should have nice gusty, warm drying winds next week. Things look good on the grape front.

Once the grapes are picked, the story will be big yields even when people tried to cut back. Those big clusters, even just a handful or two per vine, add up to more tonnage per acre. If clusters are at least 50% bigger than normal, that's going to be a lot more wine to put into barrel than we might have been expecting.

As I say too much, but it's true - stay tuned.

End of the growing season

2011-09-29T21:36:00.000-07:00

The winegrape harvest in the northern Willamette Valley is so close. In a normal year, I would be picking pinot noir from lower elevation warmer sites. This year we are still weeks away, with doom on the horizon.

Portland, where I am, saw delightful autumn weather today. A cool morning, then sunny skies with temperatures in the low 80s for a while in the afternoon. September has been warmer than July, just when we needed it after such a cold season. Vineyards have really been progressing this month. If things could hang on, you're thinking this could be classic.

Until you see the forecast. Cold, windy and rainy. Perhaps epic amounts of precipitation. Or maybe it's just the usual soaking here and there, with dry times in between, bad but now awful. Either way, tough.

Which makes me think of harvest 2005. The calendar is the same this year as 2005, and Thursday the 29th, 2005, was the last in a string of lovely days. The next three days saw two inches of rain in Portland, ushering in a month of on and off again rain and maybe two days at 70F or higher in October.

The moral of story. Oh my god. No, seriously, October can be cold and wet. We just need to deal with it, especially in what has been exceptionally cold and wet growing season. We just need to pick low brix, high acid pinot noir and make great wine, like people do elsewhere in the world with the same situations. I'm kind of excited about it. [what I don't want is rot and mold from rain and generally damp conditions. We'll see about that.]

So, it's going to be a long two weeks before I think we might start picking at one of our sites. The other two will be another week at least. What a late and, now, possibly wet harvest. All you can do now is watch the skies.

2010 Vincent Wine Company Pinot Tasting

2011-09-28T22:14:00.000-07:00

Readers may recall that I make wine. When I pour my wines, it's always fun meeting people who read this site. I'm holding another event this weekend and readers, please, come and taste my latest wines.

I'm releasing all my 2010 Pinot Noirs this Sunday, October 2, 1-5pm at the Slate, a mixed use space at 2001 NW 19th Avenue in Portland. I'll be pouring with friend and Guild Winemakers partner Anne Hubatch, who will be sampling her latest release of Helioterra wines.

It's a drop in thing, very casual, open to the public. There is no charge to taste. We will be selling all our new releases, so please buy wines that you like. The holidays are coming.

I will have small amounts of both of my 2010 single vineyard bottlings available. 2010 is the third year I've made Zenith Vineyard wine, all Pommard clone on a shallow soiled knoll in the vineyard. Red fruited, delicate and subtle, aged completely in older oak. The prettiest wine I've made.

This is the first year of Armstrong Vineyard from Ribbon Ridge, on Lewis Rogers Lane just down from Ayres and Brickhouse. Darker, more black-fruited wine as you would expect here. 25% new oak, good density, a more substantial wine.

A few local shops and restaurants will have these wines, but not many. And not for long. Hope you can join us this Sunday to taste.

Late summer

2011-09-01T19:35:00.001-07:00

It's summer and everything and nothing is going on. The tomatoes are coming on. The sunflowers tall and lanky.

And the nocino sits in the garden, baking in the daylight and heat. Brown now, the color of coffee but thicker. Chartreuse even, when sloshed around. The nocino will stay out here until November and still be a touch raw then.

Meanwhile I just got back from a short visit to the southern Okanagan Valley of central British Columbia. More on that later. But it's amazing how driving up US 97 through Washington, you go from nowhere Washington to the vibrant Okanagan valley on the Canadian side.

Immediately across the border it's orchards and vineyards tucked in remarkable places above the lake and below the glacier-carved granite walls. Truly wonderful landscape, and amid lots of good wine, I found what might be great wine. Certainly the best dry wine I've tried from BC. More later

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Reading KCole

2011-07-14T18:53:00.000-07:00

I'm on vacation in California - non-wine vacation, with family - so maybe that explains my absence. There just isn't too much to write about, what with hiking in the Sierra and playing some golf, drinking cold beer and eating too much, now in the SF area for a few days to see in-laws before a weekend return to Portland.

However, I have been reading. For pure pleasure, I'm reading Fitzgerald's Tender is the Night. And for "work" I'm reading Katherine Cole's Voodoo Vintners: Oregon's Astonishing Biodynamic Winegrowers. I'll review it slightly more formally when I finish it, soon.

For now, Cole is simply a pleasure to read, making Fitzgerald wait or at least share the bedside table. I wasn't sure what she would write about biodynamics, but as I tweeted last week when starting the book, she brings a nice mix of intrigue and healthy skepticism to the topic. The result is a lovely profile of the Oregon wine scene, which in reflection is centered more on biodynamics than I realized. I highly recommend it to any wine geek interested in Oregon, biodynamics, and ideally both.

"Everybody's playing in the heart of gold band..."

2011-07-05T19:08:00.000-07:00

I've long wondered if that Robert Hunter lyric above was a reference to Neil Young's song Heart of Gold. I do know Edmunds St. John's white wine bottling of that name is a Neil Young reference. It's also absolutely delicious in the 2008 edition I picked up locally not too long ago.

The 2008 Edmunds St. John Heart of Gold is a blend of Grenache Blanc, a classic white Rhone variety, and Vermentino, known as Rolle in France. It is gorgeous. Inspirational even. I'd love to explore white grapes like these in my wine production here in the the Pacific Northwest. Note to self - research who's growing stuff like this within a few hours of Portland.

The wine fittingly has a lovely light gold color. The aroma is similarly golden and something I think wine lovers everywhere could love even if they've never heard of these lower profile grapes. There are aromas of lemons, minerals, pastry dough and the exotic scent of stone fruit flesh and pits. Not quite peach or apricot, maybe something between.

The flavors are zippy and bright, with lemons and a waxy roundness. There's perhaps a touch of heat from alcohol, but it just adds to the body and intrigue of the wine. The finish lingers. I love this wine, and for $15 or so locally, you can't go wrong.

Flowering

2011-07-04T14:41:00.000-07:00

I took a drive yesterday to see signs of Pinot Noir flowering in the Willamette Valley, on a beautiful summer afternoon. Usually the Pinot flowers locally in the middle of June, roughly. This year, like last year, is late following a cool, damp spring. Talking with growers over the past few weeks, I heard July 4 as a target date for flowering, as it was in 2010. There were hopeful suggestions of "by July 4, for sure, definitely" to lightly desperate humor: "if not by July 4, then, um, maybe a November harvest?"

Surely not. Conventional wisdom is that harvest might begin 100 days after flowering at a given site. Longer than that you have longer "hang time," the grapes usually benefiting from extra time to develop aromas and flavors, with riper tannin and still, if the weather is cool at night, fresh acids.

Warmer sites and younger vines can ripen a bit more quickly, but 100 days is a nice estimate for thinking of the arc of the growing season. One hundreds days from July 4 is October 12. Last year, I picked from October 8 to October 17. If flowering happens similarly this year, I think it's safe to bet we'll have a similar window for picking, later if possible if the weather holds in October, likely not too much earlier, ideally under dry conditions regardless.

Sure enough, I saw a bunch of flowering inflorescence. I first drove by a couple sites I don't work with in the northern Willamette Valley, but was curious to check out. The first site seemed maybe a third through flowering, the second perhaps half or more in the rows I saw. Exciting.

Then over Bald Peak and down to Ribbon Ridge to the Armstrong Vineyard. I was really hoping to see flowers now. I wasn't disappointed. I drove up and found grower Doug Ackerman at work at the barn and we went for a walk around the property. According to him, there were no flowers the day before, but now flowering was visible in 5 to 10% of the clusters. Surely with sunny, warm weather in store for days, flowering will be quick and even, as ideal as you could want.

Here's a cluster in the clone 667 block. Grape flowers self pollinate, so there aren't dramatic blooms or aromas in grape flowers. There is a musky fragrance if you get up really close though. You can see how some grapes have set and others haven't. An "even" set means everything will set together, so this cluster should have had more flowers by the end of the day and ideally today is in full bloom. That way, the grapes are more likely to ripen together come October.

With flowering under way in such lovely conditions, it seemed appropriate to admire the view.

And a nice moment to celebrate with the most summery of beverages, dry rose wine. Thanks Doug!

Summer

2011-06-29T19:08:00.000-07:00

Summer has arrived in the Willamette Valley of Oregon. A cold summer so far, after a cold and wet spring. That means the grape growing season locally is several weeks behind schedule. Where grape vine flowering might typically happen in mid-June, we're still waiting for flowering and will perhaps wait another week or more, depending on the exact site.

What does that mean? No one here is going to be picking grapes in September, the end of which usually sees the start of the Pinot Noir grape harvest. Which means, local winemakers like me will be free at the end of September. Not something we usually expect. What to do? What to do?

It also means that we'll be picking grapes as we did in 2010 and 2008. In the middle of October and later. We at Vincent Wine Company are unconcerned.

I mentioned to one of my growers today that I'm excited for harvest. He said, pray for sun and warmth. Really, we'll get what we get and, as far as I'm concerned, too much ripeness is more of a concern even in the "cool climate" of the Willamette Valley.

I was enjoying some nice Sherry and conversation a recent evening with a winemaker friend and his point was, aren't the benchmark wines from Oregon that we revere - the old school stuff from years back - from a time where crop loads weren't so manicured? Where ripeness wasn't so great? He's right. So let's not worry about ripeness. We'll be fine.

Meanwhile, life at Vincent Wine Company rolls on. In the marketplace, our 2009 Vincent Pinot Noir Eola-Amity Hills is almost sold out. I'm trying to dole out the last 40 cases or so over the summer to key accounts. The goal is to not have too much of a gap in availability before the first 2010s come out. More on that in a minute.

Lately, I've delivered to restaurants like South Park, Nel Centro, Tabla and Noble Rot. All venues that have been selling my wine and want more, which is a great thing. Division Wines, a new shop in SE Portland owned by Will Prouty, the buyer at South Park, took a few cases. Storyteller Wine Company brought in some more as well. Pastaworks and Foster & Dobbs in NE Portland as well.

My goal this year has been to find the places where my wine resonates. Where the staff gets behind it and finds customer homes and tables to take it in. Restaurants where the staff likes the wine and feels good recommending it.

Which brings me to 2010. The wines will go into bottle in August and release this fall. My conspirators in Guild Winemakers were over the other night to taste through all the barrels and I think I have four different Pinots on tap for 2010:

Armstrong vineyard bottling - 50 cases
Zenith vineyard bottling - 50 cases
A Ribbon Ridge appellation bottling that will be the main wine, replacing '09s' Eola-Amity Hills - 170 cases
And a limited Willamette Valley bottling geared for glass pours in restaurants - some may sneak out to mailing list customers though - 50 cases

Between now and the August bottling, I need to get bottles, labels, cork and capsules. And write my email newsletter for the mailing list. We'll offer 2010s at their best prices to everyone on the list. Join our mailing list if you're interested.

Meanwhile, I'll regularly visit the three vineyards I'm working with this year. Look for updates all summer long.

Pale rose for summer

2011-06-21T23:07:00.000-07:00

Summer is here and what better time for Provencal rose. Notice the color in the bottle and glass. Not light red. Not even pink. This kind salmon-hued rose is what I long for on a warm summer day.

So the 2009 La Galantin Bandol Rose. This producer I remember from years ago in my San Francisco days, when I'd discovered Bandol. Galantin wasn't and isn't revered with the likes of Tempier and Pibarnon and Pradeaux. It does has an impossiby period label, which period I do not know but the script and pastel and illustration transport me to the south of France. Perhaps in the 1980s.

The wine delivers, as I remember the unrefined reds I tried back in the 1990s. Crisp flavors, juicy with a refreshing quality that too many roses lack. I'm happy to have this wine in my fridge for several days. It stays fresh when open, so I don't have to rush through it. And though it's good enough to guzzle straightaway, prudence suggests going slow. Relaxing. Allowing yourself to be somewhere remote where things needn't be rushed. Such is summer, with good rose and someone you love.

Cask samples of Bourbon

2011-06-17T21:47:00.000-07:00

I was fortunate enough to be invited last month to a meeting of the Macadam Bourbon Bunch, a group of local Bourbon fans who gather periodically to talk and drink American's leading whiskey.

This gathering was a special occasion, on two levels. One, the group tasted cask samples of producers Elijah Craig and the elusive Elmer T. Lee to pick specific casks that would be bottled for and sold by local outlet Macadam Liquor.

Two, it was a chance to meet at last my longtime online wine pal Hoke Harden, wine and spirits business veteran who I met in online wine discussion groups back in the 1990s. Hoke was hear as an expert on Bourbon, walking us through our tasting.

I've always known Hoke to be a friendly, knowledgeable guy. He moved to Oregon a few years ago from California. How did it take so long to finally connect IRL (sorry, yes, I just wrote that)? Hoke and I chatted like old friends, and then the group assembled to hear Hoke brief us on the tasting.

We started with three samples from Elijah Craig, all cask strength so around 140 proof. The style here is more classic Bourbon to my mind. Rich, sweet, oaky, with lots of caramel and size. The first sample seemed the most balanced and interesting, and later I found it to be the favorite of the group. I'm hoping that's the one picked for the EC single cask bottling. Of course, it will be watered back to 80 proof or so for bottling, and Hoke talked to us about how that will change the final product. Still, the differences were clear in these samples and watering them back won't change that.

Then we moved to five samples from Elmer T. Lee, all at bottling strength so a little easier to handle. Elmer is apparently one of the old guard, and someone who doesn't let cask samples out too readily. This is a treat. He uses more rye than typical, and goes for a more savory style with lighter color and less char, maybe more to the buttery smooth end of Bourbon. Again, the first sample was the best. In fact, I'd easily say it's the best Bourbon I've ever tasted. Not the blockbuster of Elijah Craig, it's more subtle if you can call Bourbon subtle. I'm hoping this cask is the one that gets bottled. I want more.

If you're interested in getting hold of the final products from this event, check with Macadam Liquor. I stopped in a week after the tasting and bought some tequilla, something I don't drink much but do enjoy, particularly palata (silver) bottlings. The manager said it's unclear exactly when the special bottlings will arrive, but it should be this summer. Bourbon lovers, check it out. And you might ask about the Bourbon Bunch. Good folks, they.

June at Armstrong vineyard

2011-06-16T23:33:00.000-07:00

667 block at the highest part of Armstrong Vineyard

I took a little time the other day to walk my rows at Armstrong Vineyard on Ribbon Ridge. Spring has come late this year, like last year and not like last year.

In 2010, we had an early budbreak. Then cold, wet weather set in for April, May and June, pushing back the growing season several weeks. In the end, a nice October saved the day, just like in 2008.

This year, there was no early start. Just cold and wet, with a late budbreak and slow progress with the new shoots all through May. Now we find ourselves in a similar place to last year at this time. A few, perhaps several weeks behind in the growing season, weeks that are hard to make up.

But that's neither here nor there at this point. Look at these pictures. Armstrong looks great. Summer looms. There are months until harvest. And considering we picked here last year on October 8, at beautiful ripeness without excess sugars, perhaps I should be more excited about another perfect harvest?

It's not a winemaker's job to be overly optimistic, I guess. But amazing things always happen, no?

Sandy, white soil on the higher part of the vineyard on Ribbon Ridge

Inflorescence - what will become flowers and then grape clusters

Steep east/west rows in the 667 block


North/South rows lower in the vineyard, in the Pommard block

Browner soil here in the lower section

2001 Domaine Mussy Pommard Epenots 1er Cru

2011-06-11T22:56:00.000-07:00

I thought tonight would be a nice opportunity to taste some old school Burgundy, from an unsung producer, a top notch vineyard and an underrated vintage. So the 2001 Dumaine Mussy Pommard Epenots Premier Cru.

I'm often trying to explain how I'm making Oregon Pinot Noir, not Burgundy, but that I'm inspired by the anything but fruity wines from the Cote d'Or. This is a nice example and honestly, it's more ready to go than I expected even of a ten year old wine.

You can tell from the label alone -- Mussy is not a newfangled producer.

Then there's the color of the wine. Dark but translucent, slightly ruddy ruby. It's not young wine, but I don't think this was ever anything more than ruby red. Opaque, purple Pinot Noir this is not.

The aroma is woodsy and mushroomy, showing sous bois or undergrowth fragrance that is prized in good Burgundy, with a subtle sweetness of bottle age.

The flavors follow, with thirst quenching acidity and reddish brown flavors, more woodsy and porcini than cherry but a nice mix of all that. It's medium bodied at best, but fine tannin that gives the wine a pleasing rusticity. It's lively. Agile.

Still, this isn't refined, floral Burgundy that will change your life. Rather, it's cleanly earthy, absolutely delicious wine that some might find a bit dry, but not me. It's what I love about good, solid Burgundy, and something I see in some local wine and want to see more, including my own.

2004 Guy Amiot Chassagne Montrachet Vieilles Vignes

2011-05-30T20:59:00.001-07:00

Tonight, pan seared sea scallops with salad and rice, and white Burgundy. Delicious all around.

I was surprised to open this 2004 Guy Amiot Chassagne Montrachet Vieilles Vignes and finding a Guala Seal instead of cork. I've had horrible luck with synthetic "cork" products, where wine prematurely ages or tastes off, maybe plasticy. So I was a little concerned upon cutting the foil and not seeing cork.

Well, we're one for one with Guala Seal. I've enjoyed Amiot's wine in the past, but at home it's only been the basic Bourgogne. These wines aren't cheap. Happily I found a couple of this village Chassagne at auction for a steal, so tonight with scallops.

Pale color, fragrant mineral, lemon and mealy apple scents, fresh and rounded by a touch of oak. Lively in the mouth, agile even, with bright lemon and apple flavors, good length and savor, a lovely match to the rich, delicate scallops. Each sip refreshed the palate for another bite of food.

Has anyone else heard about the Guala Seal? I'm shocked that a synthetic seal has held up so well over several years. Perhaps this one is actually good, never mind the carbon footprint? I'm curious.

Enso Winery Opens in SE Portland

2011-05-26T22:32:00.000-07:00

I'm really excited for the official opening of Enso Winery on SE Stark at 14th this weekend in Portland. Enso is a project of Ryan and Holly Sharp and Chris Wishart.

What? A winery on SE Stark next to Meat, Cheese, Bread, in an old auto garage right on a city thoroughfare? Yes, and based on Enso's soft opening earlier this month when I took a few pictures, it's going to be great.

Yes, Enso is a founding member in PDX Urban Wineries with Vincent Wine Company and six other producers. And yes, Enso is featuring my 2009 Eola-Amity Hills Pinot Noir as the guest winery pour through June. And yes, I'll be there in person pouring on Friday, June 3 in the evening.

But as someone who's really interested in urban wine production, especially urban wine production in Portland, I'm ecstatic to see a relatively small, neighborhood space become a working winery and tasting lounge. A place where the fermentation and barrel aging happens, and where you can stop by and sample the goods or sit for a while, buy a glass or a full bottle, enjoy some small plates of food and live a good, city life.

Essentially, this is urban winemaking at a high point. As you might with your favorite roastery or bakery, brew house or distillery, hang out at this little spot with the garage door open, watch the cars and people go by and drink some wine. Expect a new guest winery pour each month, in addition to what Enso is putting out.

I look at this spot and think...this could really catch on. This didn't take a million dollars. Maybe some day soon there will be a bunch of places in Portland like this. For now, there are only a few, and only one on SE Stark. Check it out. Maybe see you there on June 3, but this weekend is their official opening. I'll be stopping in for sure.

Vincent and the Movias

2011-05-25T20:43:00.000-07:00

I had a pleasure of meeting Movia winemaker Ales Kristancic recently at Storyteller Wine Company in SW Portland. Ales was visiting from his native Slovenia on a whirlwind tour of various US cities that love his wine, Portland among them. I stopped by Storyteller, heard he was on the way, waited, waited some more, and finally he blew in. Almost literally.

Ales is a force of nature. He rushed in and before I knew it, was weaving stories about low and now sulfite winemaking and grapevine pollination. On many of his wines, he uses no sulfur. On some perhaps a touch at bottling. And why is their Pinot Noir planted among his cabernet and merlot on the border of Slovenia and Italy? Because it blooms earlier and encourages bloom in the other varieties. Really, I asked? Of course, says Ales. You know when you see two people together, it makes you want to get together with someone? Like that.

Oh, really. I look down at my feel. Or actually, Ales'.

So we drank (and there was little spitting) his whites of Sauvignon and Ribolla. The Sauvignon 2008 was cloudy but so fresh and crystalline, full of passion fruit. The Ribolla 2008 was more clear but earthy, red apple and bass notes. The Veliko Bianco 2007 was more like the Sauvignon, pure and fresh. The Veliko Rosso was Bordeaux like, cassis, tobacco, gravel, with great texture and length. All of these wines were tremendous.

Ales and I got to talking about my wine and he encouraged me to open a bottle, for sale in the store. So my 2009 Vincent Pinot Noir Eola-Amity Hills, nicely fragrant but herbal after the Veliko Rosso. But look at Ales. Feel him poke you in the chest as he talks with his entire body. He tells it straight and he honestly seemed to enjoy the wine. I was happy.

Then came the moon shot. The Movia Lunar, 2006 I believe.

I won't speak of this wine as much as show it.

Pardon the blur. Ales is always in motion.

Yes, it looks like a sample. But this elixir is one of the most delicious and interesting wines I've tasted. Hugely aromatic, yellow fruited, yeasty like fine champagne but pure and focused. Words sort of fail with such a different, orange wine. I simply loved it.

Ales knew we all did. So he thought, let's smoke herb cigarettes from Slovenia. Outside we go. I managed one puff. Mint. Hmm. Interesting. I don't smoke, but right now I was willing to do almost anything.

We talked about Ales returning for some wild event/party/madness. We will see. We should hope. With that, Ales was off.

For now, shop owner Michael Alberty had an inspiration. Why not recreate the moment as best as we can? So, come to Vincent and the Movias this Friday evening at Storyteller. I'll pour my Pinot Noir, and Michael will have a selection from Movia. No Lunar though, that's crazy rare.

And of course, there will be no Ales, which is like The Who without Keith Moon. But what the hell. It will be good nonetheless. The Movia wines deliver, just like their maker.

NV Domaine Meriwether Discovery Cuvee Brut

2011-05-22T19:00:00.000-07:00

I love sparkling wine but don't drink enough. I usually don't have much of it in the cellar, though in the past year I've purchased several bottles of Champagne and other sparkling wines. Then I fail to open them, waiting for something to celebrate.

Why do we only think of sparkling wine for celebrations? It's so good and versatile on the dinner table. And who among wine drinkers doesn't like sparkling wine?

And why don't we celebrate more? Why not celebrate a new wine account or the love of someone special?

So tonight, for those reasons or none at all, I opened a local sparkling wine, the NV Domaine Meriwether Discovery Cuvee Brut. What a terrific Oregon white wine. Pale in color, seemingly more Chardonnay even if the website says it's 60% Pinot Noir, smelling of lemons and mushrooms, tasting bright and edgy with a lemon cream middle and lovely tension on the finish.

There is even a chalky sense of good Champagne that I find so refreshing and thought provoking. What incredibly delicious wine. No one ever seems to talk about Domaine Meriwether but almost every time I try one of their wines, I think they are among the top producers of Oregon wine.

2007 Kondoli Vineyard Saperavi

2011-05-17T22:27:00.000-07:00

It's been too long, and there are ridiculous amounts of things to write about if I can just carve out the time. New Portland urban wineries. More and better thoughts on Arizona. Late budbreak in Oregon has finally arrived. I write an article for Wine Press Northwest magazine. A crazy Slovenian winemaker visits Portland.

See, lots to get to. Soon, I promise. Especially since I think I'm done with that Wine Press NW piece.

For now, a true obsurity. The 2007 Kondoli Vineyard Saperavi from the Republic of Georgia. Yes, that Georgia. Who needs a century club when you can taste unheard of grape varieties in your own home?

Kondoli is apparently storied, the back label quoting a Georgian from 1742 extolling the producer's "noble wines." This bottling shows a dark black red color and a bittersweet herbal aroma that reminds me some of Dolcetto. The wine tastes similarly bittersweet, with floral and blackberry flavors and lots of fine tannin that provides great texture.

This is dry, savory wine. But if that's your thing, and I love it, you should find a bottle. It costs something like $16 or $17. Imported by Corus LLC, Stamford, CT. I know where you can find it in Portland.

On bripeness

2011-04-28T16:41:00.000-07:00

I've been in Tucson, Arizona, the past few days for a conference related to my day job, running university continuing education programs. It's nice to get a break from the cold and wet spring in Portland.

Would you believe people are making serious wine in Arizona? Locals here would scoff. Of course we are, they'd protest. Where have you been? The high desert around Tucson and other relatively higher elevation sites northwest of Phoenix near Jerome and Prescott have several vineyards, not the least of which was planted by Oregon's own Dick Erath.

Turns out I'm not the only one looking for a break from the wet. Dick may have sold his eponymous winery last year, but he has been down in several years focused on Arizona viticulture. Arizona, where frosts after budbreak and rain at harvest are essentially non-factors. Dick's traded Pinot noir for Sangiovese and other grapes more suited to the southwestern climate.

In the arid climate here, you need plenty of water for irrigating your vines. The good news is you don't need to worry much about rot and mildew in the vineyard. I imagine organic farming is easier here, if you're so inclined. Not so much need for highly engineered sprays for to ward off disease during wet growing seasons.

However, I imagine you do need to worry about "bripeness." Bripeness? That's a word my Guild Winemakers partners and I (mostly they) coined to describe really ripe tasting wines that are obviously acidified. In hot climates, grape sugars can rise quickly while grape acids plummet, especially because of warm nights. The results are grapes with plenty of sugar and ripe fruit flavor, but lacking acidity that keeps a wine fresh tasting (and microbiologically stable). The solution? Tartaric acid powder from a bag. Heaps of it in some cases.

Now let's be clear. I'm interested in making wine from grapes without fussing with them if possible. Wine grapes have the rare natural ability to be made into wine without added sugar, acid or even yeast. I think if you can do that, do it. But you can't always do that, and part of the issue for me is building the experience of when to pick to preserve natural acidity while not having unripe flavors. I will add tartaric acid to wine when I think it's necessary. I won't add too much, mostly because I don't want bripeness.

What's that taste like? Candy is a good example. Take Sweettart type candies. They're sweet and fruity tasting, but have serious tartness. My kids love Sour Patch candies. Same thing. Intentionally tart though sweet at the core to provide balance. And what about Pixie Stix? Essentially sugar and citric acid, and oddly enough Pixie Stix is a newly classic term to describe certain wines, usually those that taste highly acidified. Where the fruit flavor is broad and ripe, not cool and focused like lesser ripe but still ripe berries, for example, with something of a tent pole of acidity sticking out awkwardly. Acid that makes the ripe wine overly bright, or simply bripe.

Yesterday I tried the 2009 Arizona Stronghold Mangus Red Wine, yes, from the guy from Tool among other people involved. The wine was tasty with plummy flavors, obviously ripe but not pruny or raisined. And not volatile or otherwise flawed like hot climate wines can get. But it was bripe. Just a little too tart for the ripeness. Not bad, rather a smudge on perfectly good, clean table wine.

The wine shows the challenge of this desert climate. But I'm left curious to try more Arizona wines, including those from Dick Erath's planting that is apparently not too far from where I'm staying. Wish I had more time. A return visit may be in order.

Vincent open house

2011-04-17T11:23:00.000-07:00

If you're in Portland and want to check out what I'm doing with my Vincent Wine Company Pinot Noir, come to a winery open house on May 1 with friends Helioterra wines.

Anne from Helioterra is releasing a 2010 Pinot Blanc and 2009 Syrah, and will be pouring her 2009 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, which recently was accepted for this year's Indie Wine Festival.

I'll be pouring and selling my only remaining wine from 2009, my Eola-Amity Hills Pinot Noir. And I'll preview 2010 with a barrel selection of my Pinot Noir from the new Armstrong Vineyard from Ribbon Ridge. I'm really excited about this site and will offer the first wines to mailing list members this summer.

No need to RSVP. Location is 2621 NW 30th Avenue in Portland. We'll be pouring from 1-5pm. Drop in when you can. Hope you can make it. And if you're an elevage reader, let me know when you stop by my table.

Zenith vineyard dinner

2011-04-11T21:57:00.001-07:00

I had the pleasure of attending a tasting and dinner hosted by Tim and Kari Ramey of Zenith Vineyard for all producers of wine from Zenith grapes. This was the third annual event, modeled after the longer running Shea vineyard dinner that follows the same format. Taste through barrel samples of the prior year's wines from all producers in attendance, and follow it up with a nice dinner.

This year we were tasting 2010s, of course. Producers in attendance included Zenith and St. Innocent, both made by Mark Vlossak, Adelsheim, Ponzi, Biggio-Hamina, Seufert, Elemental Cellars, Wild Aire, and Grochau Cellars and of course my label, Vincent. Since John Grochau couldn't make it, I led the tasting for his sample as well as my own.

Essentially, each winemaker gets up and details what block the grapes came from in a given barrel sample, when the grapes were picked, how the wine was made, where the wine is in its elevage, and then people offer comments, opinions, questions. Sometimes lots, sometimes not much at all. For me, it's a chance to have several leading winemakers in our region try my wine and give their input. I happily wasn't nervous as I've been in the past. I'm happy with what I've produced and know others will enjoy it, provided they're looking for something translucent in color with delicate flavors that sneak up on you rather than hit you over the head.

I found it particularly instructive to taste everyone's barrel samples, hear how they approached the winemaking, where their wines are in their elevage, and what they thought of the wine. People are pretty honest, though they don't criticize so much. I think it's more about praise if the sample warrants it, then understanding of what the winemaker is trying to do, then keeping ones mouth shut if there's something they don't love about the sample.

How were the 2010s? From a big vineyard like Zenith, it makes sense to say - very good but all over the map. There were masculine, extracted wines. There were delicate, ethereal wines. There may have been some sense of place through them all. I'm not convinced though. I did find the wines interesting. Loved some of them, especially those that fit my style, which makes sense, no? And there's certainly a vintage signature - enough ripeness but not too much, reasonable alcohols, bright acids or flavors that convey more "crunchiness" than acidity levels might suggest. Call it a junior 2008, which is praise.

I came away both happy with my wine but also knowing I have lots to learn if I want to make truly great wine. I mean truly great, oh my god wine. Right now, I'm making what I think is very good wine. Wine I'm very proud of. But let's be real, I can do better and feel inspired to do just that. To continue learning and growing. So that I'm looking forward to this growing season and harvest, and many more after that.

Need more inspiration? How about a marvelous three course dinner that featured a vertical of Ponzi Reserve Pinot Noir from 1990 to 1996. That '90 was spectacular. The '92, from a hot vintage where harvest apparently started in late August (!!!), was really nice. The '95, from a rainy "wash out" vintage, I'd had before and it was again really nice, lighter for sure but all together and beautiful. Those were my favorites, though I was driving so I did much more sniffing than drinking.

Thanks Tim and Kari for the lovely event. I feel lucky to be part of the Zenith vineyard, even in my small way.

Old school cabernet from 1985

2011-04-05T20:25:00.000-07:00

Pictured to the left you see two old school wines. Both from 1985, tasted earlier this year at Storyteller Wine Company in Portland.

One is visible in the glass, the 1985 Stags Leap Wine Cellars Cabernet Sauvignon Napa Valley. The other is the 1985 Ducru-Beaucaillou, a classified growth Bordeaux from the Medoc commune St. Julien.

Both were made largely before the heights of modernization took hold in each region. Before picking at elevated sugar levels. Before micro-oxidation to "round out" tannins, reverse osmosis to concentrate musts and other wine growing and making techniques that create more and more sweet tasting, even if dry, wines.

And these wines reflected the glory of those days. The '80s. When we already thought the world had gone to hell compared to the "good old days." Yes, I'm aware that it's easy to look to the past for comfort.

Yet, these wines both showed qualities that simply aren't part of the current wine landscape. Ruby colors, translucent even, with delicate fragrance and medium bodies, with none of the purple, extracted sheen of more contemporary cabernet-based wines.

The '85 Stags Leap was beautifully aromatic, bottle sweet with red fruit and green tobacco aromas, soft, mature, silky balck currant tea and perserved fruit flavors. Perhaps it's a little old at 26 years. Let's not forget this was the basic bottling for this legendary Napa producer. Still, great producer, great vintage, lovely old wine that I would happily enjoy before, during or after a meal.

To compare, the '85 Ducru was all Bordeaux. Where the Stags Leap showed plenty of sunshine in its aroma and flavor, the Ducru was powerfully fragrant with iodine, gravel, meat and ash aromas, mixing with herbaceous red fruits. Younger smelling and tasting, with red fruit and gravel flavors, incredible tannic texture and some bottle sweetness, this was all Bordeaux, less about fruit and more about gravel and earth, still young so that another decade would probably allow for further softening, the flavors maybe not so intense as the Napa wine but the complexity and the finesse greater.

What struck me about these wines is that, were they young, many winemakers today might consider them unripe. Lean. Needing too much time to show their best. I understand the market pressures. How do you convince as consumer, much less a shop buyer, that the wine will be incredible in 20 to 25 years? So we have more and more wines built for immediate consumption, which will age no doubt, but don't seem to be built for the ethereal pleasure of such old school wines as these.

These wines started out as red, not purple, and purple doesn't magically become red with two decades in the bottle. So here's unique tasting experience, and a pleasurable one at that. See how wine was made in the old days of the '80s. Marvel at how such techniques are at our disposal today, if we're interested. If you'll buy.

Continuing marketplace saga

2011-03-29T22:28:00.000-07:00

Nothing to spectacular to write tonight. Just another day out in the Portland wine market pouring my 2009 Vincent Pinot Noir Eola-Amity Hills wine for buyers at New Seasons and Whole Foods Markets. Some success. New Seasons Hawthorne is bringing it in, as is New Seasons Happy Valley. No word on the other stores I visited, and because most of the stores don't really make appointments, just have drop in times, sometimes you wait your turn. Sometimes there isn't anyone there or they just went to lunch. Sometimes they've already left for the day even though you're not done with yours.

Which is to say, a typical day selling wine. Some success, some failure, no outright rejection, sure, but a lot of work to get two sales. But I'm not discouraged. A friend heard the news and was so excited for me, it jarred me for a moment to realize that, yes, I'm doing what I love and having success. How could that be anything but great?

Oh, and both of those New Seasons stores want to bring me in for in-store tastings, which I'm still new enough at this to be really excited about. My goal is really to get lots of people who don't know what I'm up to, making what I believe is really good Pinot Noir in the city of Portland, OR, to know what I'm up to. And pouring and being able to tell everyone out there on the interwebs that I'm gong to be pouring, isn't a bad way to start.

Next up, more time in the market hitting lots of stores I still haven't gotten to, and the few I hit today unsuccessfully. You interested to hear more about how this all turns out?

Three fourths of Quattro Mani

2011-03-20T21:32:00.000-07:00

I was turned on to the Quattro Mani wines this past year by Michael Alberty of Storyteller Wines in Portland, OR. The label means "four hands" in Italian, and is a partnership of (I think) four producers. Really, I've tried three and even the website of the importer, Domaine Select Wine Estates, suggests there are only three bottlings, so far anyway.

The story they list says things started in 2006 with a Quattro Mani bottling of Montepulciano d'Abruzzo made by Attillo Pagli, followed by a white in '08 and a sparkling wine in 2010. I've tried examples of all three, the current releases I believe, and they are all excellent and excellent values.

The current red is the 2009 Quattro Mani Montepulciano d'Abruzzo, perhaps the perfect pizza wine. Dark crimson, fresh and fruit-centered but clearly Italian with a classic bitter chocolate and almond dryness to complement the fresh mixed berry fruit flavors. There's fresh acidity and some tannin, just enough to keep things interesting. This isn't sweet, cocktail wine. Some might find it too dry. I love it, find it pairs deliciously with food, refreshing the palate with each sip, yet is fruity enough to satisfy anyone who at least would be interested in something like Chianti in favor of generic merlot. Locally at $9, ridiculous value.

The white I tried last was the 2008 Quattro Mani Toh-Kai made by the geek-famous Slovenian producer Movia, of some orange wine and esoteric sparklers. Stealing from a Storyteller newsletter, the producer is actually right on the Italian border, the label not reading Tocai because of EU rules to protect Hungary's Tokaji branding. So Toh-kai and another incredible value, and I'm sure the '09 will be if it's out now. Classic Tokai Friulano from NE Italy, full and crisp at once, slightly honeyed and spicy, floral, interesting but also easy to drink if you're not thinking about it. Great in summer weather.

But the most interesting Quattro Mani wine I've tried is something I wrote about recently in my post on the Portland restaurant Nostrana. It's the NV Quattro Mani Franciacorta Brut, from a region that is Italy's answer to Champagne (meaning it's good but nowhere near Champagne...what is?). Franciacorta apparently used to be the insider's place for great value, serious sparkling wine. Now prices have risen, but here's an excellent bottling for less than $20. I tried it once at Storyteller, immediately bought a bottle. Then tried it at Nostrana, thinking I probably wouldn't have the same reaction. You know when you like something, then try it again and think...eh, what's the big deal? Not here. This has all the finesse, mineral and brioche notes of fine Champagne. Ok, maybe a different profile. Again, there is no substitute to Champagne. But this wine is rich and fine at once, delicate but full, that magical balance you want in most wines. Not too light, not too heavy, just right. And at a price where you might find it be the glass, where you won't be cutting any corners to order it.

Terrific wine, terrific value. That's Quattro Mani. Three-fourths of it anyway. Still searching for that fourth wine. Any leads?

New wines and old at Red Hills in Dundee

2011-03-20T16:09:00.000-07:00

The Armstrong vineyard gang met Friday night at Red Hills Provincial Dining in Dundee, OR, for the second annual dinner of grower and producers. Our Vincent Wine Company label sources from Armstrong, up on Ribbon Ridge, along with Seven of Hearts, Ayres and, starting in 2011, Aubichon. Good company for Vincent to be in, for sure.

This year the dinner was especially notable because three of us brought barrel samples from 2010 from the first fruit harvested at this new site, which is owned by Doug and Michelle Ackerman. It's too early to say much about the wines, and I'm obviously too close to be fair. But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't excited. Last year, the site produced a small crop of nicely ripe fruit, and though the wines are still unfinished, everyone's samples showed great potential. Mine was the lightest in color but I like how expressive the wine is. We will see how things continue to evolve.

After quickly tasting through the barrel samples, we moved on to the main event. A mix of other wines, several older ones including a stellar Amarone Recioto from the 1960s. My favorite white wine was a 2005 Vincent Dauvissat Chablis 1er Cru "Vaillons" that was archetypal young Chablis. Greenish in the glass, strongly mineral with good weight, precise acidity and lovely seashell flavors. This will age nicely but was delicious with crab cakes. I saved and savored some for my main course of seared scallops.

Others ordered things like short ribs or lamb shank or mushroom pasta, so reds were fittingly our focus. Highlights there included a magnum of 1982 Gaja Barbaresco, generously opened by the Ackermans. What lovely old Piemontese red, mature with some pleasant oxidation and hard to describe earthy aromas and flavors, this was old school nebbiolo all the way. Translucent, perfumed, bottle sweet, just terrific wine that held up pretty well over the evening.

I brought the 2000 Confuron-Cotetidot Vosne-Romanee 1er Cru "Les Suchots" that showed pretty well. A bit more mature than 11 years might suggest, though I think 2000s are probably in their peak window these days. Fragrant, spicy, very Vosne, a little hard in the mouth though, not as resolved as the nose suggested. My only complaint. This was delicious red Burgundy.

Back to Italy for the 1997 La Spinetta Barbaresco "Vigna Gallina" that, I'll admit, was my favorite dry wine of the night. Incredibly aromatic, more modern, sure, but clearly Piemontese nebbiolo. The aroma was so nice, something you could smell all night and never tire of. Dark fruit, subtle oak, then fennel and other spicy aromas. Full and rich in the mouth but not heavy, tannin rounded as you find with more modern Piemontese red, but I can't complain. A little barrique flavor on the finish, but this is outstanding wine. The perfect answer to people (like me) who sometimes get a little dogmatic about how old school is always (always!) better than the new school.

There were some other notable reds, but I didn't pay enough attention to them. A rich, stony 2004 Janasse Chateauneuf du Pape Vieilles Vignes, a ripe but not overdone 2003 Relagnes Chateauneuf du Pape Cuvee Vigneronnes, and an herbal and not quite up to task 2004 Neudorf Pinot Noir Mouterre from Nelson in New Zealand (another from me).

Really, I was focused on another incredible wine opened by the Ackermans. The 1968 Masi Amarone Recioto di Amarone, a wine that's one year older than I am and was so youthful, so delicious that I wouldn't have guessed it was older than 20 years and would still call it one of the most delicious wines I have had in recent memory. The perfect balance of savory and sweet, with little sugar sweetness but lovely, sweet aged fruit, no volatility, just perfectly integrated plum, tar, bitter chocolate, you name it, just incredible flavors, length, texture. Really, what great wine and great aged wine is all about. I am incredibly fortunate to have tried it. Thanks Doug and Michelle.

In all, a delightful night in Red Hills' Craftsman house of a restaurant. The service area in the living and dining rooms. Fir flooring, dark beams lining the ceiling. Almost perfect, which is no complaint, just truth. Provoking thoughts of the future. We promised to do it again next year and, even with the uncertainty of this year's growing season ahead of us, I'm sure it will be even better then. The future is bright indeed.

Nostrana e Perbacco

2011-03-17T21:39:00.000-07:00

Nostrana in SE Portland is one of my all time favorite places to eat. It's terrific. Cathy Whims is well noted as a top chef in this city and beyond. The pizza oven cranks out incredible pies. The room, though large and potentially cavernous with high, exposed beams, is surprisingly intimate and comfortable. And...I've had a few meals here that were particularly special to me.

So I jumped at the chance to eat there the other night when a friend - a fellow dad (our kids are friends) and wine industry vet (he generously helped with my last open house) - suggested we stop in after checking out a middle school open house for our daughters. The open house didn't work out for me, but the real draw was Nostrana. And as it turned out, the 2007 Vietti Langhe Nebbiolo "Perbacco."

I started with a glass of bubbly from the Quattro Mani project, this a Franciacorta from NE Italy that's tremendous sparkling wine and a great value. The real story was the Perbacco. I've enjoyed this lower end Vietti bottling in the past, and noticed Antonio Galloni's glowing reviews of this wine in the Wine Advocate and on Grape Radio. Galloni says it's made just like all the fancy Barolo and Barbaresco in Vietti's cellar, just aged less and bottled earlier. This wine delivers on that promise.

We each ordered the Insalata Nostrana, rich with garlicky Caesar dressing and parmasean over raddichio. My friend immediately commented that the Perbacco seemed more Barolo than Barbaresco, darker fruited and surprisingly good with salad. Then came the pizzas, mine with herbs and sausage and an egg cracked right into the middle of the pie. The wine seemed a little more floral and high toned in this setting, still more modern in flavor, dark and rich but clearly nebbiolo with rounder tannin than most wines at this eschelon.

The food was fantastic and we talked about lots of things guys talk about. The wine was delicious, something I wouldn't think to put in the cellar but for the money it's really hard to argue with. Less traditional the Produttori di Barbaresco's Barbaresco normale, but a nice change of pace and clearly of its place. There's no mistaking this for anything but Piemontese nebbiolo. Think about it if that sounds interesting, and give Nostrana a try if you're in town. It's that good.

Cabot wines of California's Humboldt county

2011-02-26T14:27:00.000-08:00

Growing up in Los Angeles, Humboldt county in far northern California always had an appeal. Remote. Forested. Some said there were legendary if cold waves to surf. And of course, there was weed. Pot. Ganja. Call it what you will, but the world knows Humboldt for its marijuana.

I imagine John and Kimberley Cabot might get annoyed if everyone mentions pot when talking or writing about their wines. I'm not helping. Or maybe they don't care. It's just that Humboldt isn't known for wine. Humboldt embodies rugged, and the Cabot's own labels feature a topographical map with a clear "X" marking their location. Seemingly in the middle of nowhere.

Probably surrounded by pot farms. Ok, enough already.

So you're forgiven if you've never had Humboldt county...wines. I never had until last weekend, when Michael Alberty of Storyteller Wines locally invited some people down to the shop to taste through a selection of Cabot Vineyards bottlings, which are only recently available in this market.

I'll spare the details of a shipping mistake that left us with wines intended for a tasting in New York City. We still have a variety of things to try and I was impressed, and interested to try more from this clearly below the radar (for the moment) producer.

A quick look at the Cabot web site makes it clear that John and Kimberly are committed to organic viticulture and hands-off wine making. That shows in the wines, which reminded me a bit of Edmunds St. John, one of my favorite California producers that make wines accentuating the unique fruit of California with an energy and cut you typically find only in the old world.

We started by trying two vintages of the Klamath Cuvee Red Table Wine. The 2005 was my preference, showing more syrah character than anything else (60% syrah, the rest cabernet, zinfandel and merlot). Dark fruit, white pepper, beef and iron aromas, with a lovely texture, floral blackberry flavors, good length, acidity and grippy tannin, just love this. The 2006 is 60% syrah but 40% cabenert sauvignon, and the cabernet seems to dominate here. More like cabernet franc, with gravel and green tobacco aromas and cassis and tobacco flavors, very Bordeaux with a roundness familiar in California wine. Nice tannin keeps things from being syrupy. Good, but not the 2005 to my taste.

Then the 2006 Syrah Aria's, named for the Cabot's daughter. Dark colored, apparently this is Cabot's hommage to new world syrah. It's not that dark though. Rich red fruit aromas, some syrah character but maybe I wouldn't pick this out blind. More typically floral in the mouth, coffee, fine tannin as all these wines show, good grip and edge to keep things interesting. I hear this had some whole clusters in the fermenter. Nice stuff.

Finally the 2007 Cabernet Sauvignon, with 7% cabernet franc blended in. This reminds me of old school California cabernet, maybe from the Santa Cruz Mountains. Only medium/dark ruby, translucent. Cinnamon, stalky red fruit aromas, nicely perfumed without too much weight or heft. Slightly diffuse and broader than I like in the mouth, but again more elegant than hefty cabernet, my style. Should improve with a few years of age.

I left feeling very interested in trying more Cabot wines. The clincher? The Klamath Cuvees are $20 full retail, the others more around $30. These are terrific and interesting wines for very reasonable prices. I was shocked especially that the first wine wasn't twice the price. So check them out if they sound good to you. I know I'll be looking for some. And I'll spare any comments about case purchases coming with a free eighth. No, in fact they don't.

Cotes du Rhone

2011-02-21T19:47:00.002-08:00

Cotes du Rhone has been on the mind lately. This broad French appellation has long been a favorite of mine, covering all of the Rhone Valley, but for our purposes it's really an appellation of the southern Rhone.

It contains the great village of Chateauneuf du Pape. The boisterous Gigondas. The upstart Vacqueyras. Rasteau. Cairanne. Tavel And more. So many terrific subregions with their own AOC designations. Red wines and rose made from grenache, syrah, mourvedre, counoise and several other grapes. Whites from grenache blanc, marsanne and bourboulenc, among others.

But the regional AOC Cotes du Rhone, with the slightly higher level Cotes du Rhone Villages, that's my concern here. Cotes du Rhone is the Bourgogne rouge or Bordeaux rouge of the Rhone. The general wine from the region. Except I think there are better wines for the money at such a basic level than those regions, with exceptions (always). Where Bourgogne rouge overly tart in too many cases and Bordeaux rouge too often weedy and herbal, Cotes du Rhone can deliver serious wine, even if simple and simply delicious, at everyday prices. The best are serious and seriously complex, even ageworthy, even for $20 though sometimes more. Most are significantly cheaper.

I've long loved the wines of the Cotes du Rhone, but last week a friend asked for a wine suggestion for Parisian dinner at home. The main dish - French onion soup. With no sense of what might be available in an Arizona grocery, I knew it had to be French so I suggested Cotes du Rhone. Where else could you get somethings safely good without knowing what was available? Sure enough, they had the 2009 St. Cosme Cotes du Rhone and by all accounts it proved delicious. I'm sure it was softer, richer, riper than most Cotes du Rhone. Perhaps it wouldn't be Eric Asimov's selection (check out his great Valentine's day article on the subject). But it worked well and inspired me.

So tonight, steak on the grill, mashed potatoes (!!!) and roasted Brussels sprouts. What a perfect opportunity to check on the 2006 Charvin Cotes du Rhone "Le Poutet." Charvin is a terrific producer in the norther area of Chateauneuf du Pape, known for grenache-based wines of great power. Their Cotes du Rhone is something of a baby Chateauneuf, a term I hate for usually being used to sell Cotes du Rhone at closer to Chateauneuf pricing. But in this case, it's appropriate.

I love fruity, peppery Cotes du Rhone. That's the most classic profile of the region among the myriad examples you might find. This wine isn't that. Instead, it's structured, minerally, fairly intense wine that's easily more impressive and delicious than much lower end Chateauneuf. It's not the light, carafe-friendly wine I might think of with Cotes du Rhone, but with grilled steak this is perfect.

It has lots of fine, ripe tannin, plenty of rocky, cherry and herb flavors, good length and grip. This is serious wine for around $20, something I've cellared for a few years that could easily last and perhaps improve for several more. There's a bit of alcoholic heat, but nothing objectionable. Just enough to remind you of the sun-drenched, windswept terrain of this region.

The Charvin was delicious with the meal and reminds me, and should remind you, that when in doubt, think Cotes du Rhone. Roast chicken? Check. Onion soup? Check. Grilled meat? Check. Mushrooms, roasted vegetables, or cheese, meats and crusty bread? Check. Sure, nice Pinot noir could be a good match in many cases. Cabernet-based wines with some of the richer, fattier foods. Even white wines in some cases. Never underestimate white wine and cheese, for example.

But the lesson is clear - think Cotes du Rhone.

2001 Vega Scilia Valbuena 5° Ribera del Duero

2011-02-20T20:29:00.000-08:00

Earlier this month I was delighted to hear that a retailer friend found more than a case of 2001 Vega Scilia Valbuena 5° Ribera del Duero. Not because I'm going to stock up any time soon on a wine that runs around $150 per bottle. No, I just wanted a chance to taste it. And that chance came two Fridays ago when that retailer opened a bottle in his Friday night line up.

Vega Scilia is the winery that put Spain's Ribera del Duero on the map. The Rioja has long been king of Spanish vino tinto. But more and more, Ribera del Duero, led by Vega Scilia, is essentially Rioja's equal in reputation. Though I'm sure wine geeks could and would dispute that suggestion.

Nevertheless, Vega Scilia is legendary. Their top wine, Unico, is insanely prized and expensive, produced only in certain years when the winery feels the quality is high enough. Valbuena then is a "second wine," but second only in a sense. Valbuena itself is prized by collectors around the world and the quality of the wine speaks for itself. Tasting this 2001, I can't see how this isn't top quality. How does wine like this, of both name and quality, sit in a distributor's warehouse?

Second wines are usually softer, more accessible than main labels, which tend to be more ageworthy. This Valbuena was a deep crimson color with spicy dark fruit, high toned and aromatic with pencil shavings showing from the oak aging. In the mouth, the bright, almost cranberry fruit and fine tannins suggest a still young wine, tightly wound with good density and a darker fruited finish. All things that suggest to me lots of cellar potential.

Okay, this isn't mindblowing, not now anyway. And, really, the price is suited to those who see $150 like I see $15 or $20. Perhaps Portland isn't filled with those people. The wine, however, is top notch. Perfumed, structured, with incredible texture. It just needs time to show its stuff, like a cut flower that will beguile in the morning, making you forget whatever you paid for in, it money or stitches.

NV Ruinart Champagne Rose

2011-02-19T18:24:00.000-08:00

For Valentine's Day, there were many wine options. But really, is anything more appropriate on that day than bubbles? And specifically, Champagne, rosé Champagne? I think not. Prudence on a weeknight suggested a half bottle, which was perfect. I had a stray bottle of NV Ruinart Rosé, just enough for a glass each and a little refresh.

As you can see, the color was mature salmon. The aroma was mature as well, with brioche, strawberries and a chalky earthiness that is a signature of Champagne, something I never find in any other sparkling wine but the real thing.

The flavors were briskly acidic and prickly from the bubbles but round, softened by some age, with delicate red fruit and chalk flavors. This wasn't as rich and intense as I might have guessed, though I've never had Ruinart's Rosé so I had no knowledgeable expectation. I was just surprised, pleasantly surprised, at the restraint and delicacy here.

This wine is apparently similar in composition to Ruinart's blanc de blancs, mostly Chardonnay blended with still Pinot noir. Ruinart is no small, grower Champagne that I typically prefer. But for big house, luxury wine, this was really satisfying.

Lunch at Carafe

2011-02-11T22:37:00.000-08:00

My day job is in downtown Portland, near a number of terrific restaurants. One of my favorites is Carafe, which one co-worker has dubbed "Paris" because it's truly a Parisian bistro complete with the wicker chairs, two and three in a row at each table on the outdoor patio just like you see all over France. It's a perfect place for imaging your far away from home, and the food and pricing provide some of the best value in all of Portland. Don't overlook this place just because it isn't hyper expensive.

The other day I lunched at Carafe with a colleague who's a former colleague but also sort of a current colleague. Hard to explain. I guess that's the modern job market for you. She loves Paris and when we wanted to go to lunch, where else was there to suggest? So we met on a bright February day, blue sky overhead like I saw today in a picture another friend posted from the real Paris. And we talked about work and life and enjoyed some simple, delicious food. I also drank too much coffee at the end, which made me jittery, which I hate. That didn't used to happen to me.

So what did I eat? And what wine did we enjoy? Well, this being a modern workday lunch, we enjoyed no wine. Just water and, later, the coffee. And that's fine. I don't need wine at every meal and certainly don't need wine on a mid-week lunch when I have lots to do back at the office. I did enjoy an excellent omelette with spinach, creme fraiche and chunks of smoky bacon, with a side salad of mixed greens lightly dressed in a tangy mustard vinaigrette.

And why write about this here? Because Carafe is worth it, and because there are empty bottles of wine that inspired me to think about what pairing would be best. The '96 Rousseau Griottes Chambertin? Or '99 Clos de Tart? Who would turn down Grand Cru Burgundy with anything?

But I'd go with white wine for my dish, and the empty of '04 Joly Savennieres Clos de la Coulee de Serrant calls me. That's crazy, controversial essentially Grand Cru Chenin blanc from the Loire Valley, some saying it's still the best wine in that region, others saying Joly has gone overboard on biodynamic farming and oxidative wine making.

Me? I'd give it a go. Makes me think of the lone '05 I have in my cellar, which is nowhere near ready I'm sure, if it's ever going to be good. But my mouth waters at the thought of what it might be, what it should be. Must return to Paris soon. Who wants to join me?

2007 Mas d'Intras Cuvee des Helviens

2011-02-09T19:49:00.000-08:00

Recently I walked into Liner & Elsen Wine Merchants in NW Portland to pour a sample of one of my wines, and the most perfect looking inexpensive red wine caught my eye. It was the 2007 Mas d'Intras Vin de Pays des Coteaux de l'Ardeche "Cuvee du Helviens." The label, as you can see, just screams country French, and you can only hope the wine is as authentic. I brought a bottle up to the counter and the staff joked, not incorrectly, that I really must be in the wine business now because I'm buying buying cheap wine. It's true, any money is going into the business. But they knew even more than I knew - this not only looked like the perfect French country wine, it is the perfect French country wine.

This is vin de pays, country wine, in a small, humble 750mL glass bottle that asks to be poured into tumblers with a simple meal. But the wine inside, a half and half blend of grenache and syrah, is absolutely delicious. What any $10 or slightly less wine ought to be. Aromas of raspberries and strawberries, warm stones and garrigue, that brushy, dry herb scent of the countryside. Then dry, savory flavors of raspberries and stones, with a rough hewn but smooth texture, a country table of a wine that slakes your thirst but satisfies well beyond the price tag. I simply can't get enough of this kind of wine, and it really deserves to be served in tumblers out of a large carafe rather than a bottle and crystal glasses.

Estelle Imports here in Portland is the American importer, and from the looks of the producer's web site, there are lots more bottlings to investigate. I'll have to check to see what more is available locally. This bottle I believe retails for $9.50. It's not sweet and fruity, but it's also not unclean or sour. If you want the vinous equivalent of the perfect simple omelette or crepe, this is your wine. We had it with simple polenta, green and a blue cheese sauce. Simply delicious.

BerserkerDay 2011

2011-01-26T17:55:00.000-08:00

January 27 is BerserkerDay 2011. That's the second anniversary of the founding of Wine Berserkers, which has quickly emerged as one of the world's leading places for wine discussion online and likely the top site located in the US.

I wrote about the site a year ago as my wine story of the year in 2009, when Todd French finally had had enough of the overbearing editorial policies of a well-known and formerly public wine discussion site hosted by the Wine Advocate newsletter. After certain rabble-rousers, or truth-sayers depending on your perspective, were vilified with the term "berserkers" by one infamous forum moderator, the idea of a new discussion site revealed itself. One rooted in truly open discussion of wine and other topics, more open to industry participation and without the shadow of the world's leading wine review newsletter hanging over it. Let's just say criticism of the newsletter wasn't tolerated well in the old order. Wine Berserkers changed that.

In two years, the site has naturally moderated from an anti-Wine Advocate site to something of its own skin, and there's been innovative. One of the more novel things to emerge has been Berserker Day, where the site anniversary is celebrated all day long with special offers for registered forum participants from many wine producers and other industry members who are also participants, including brewers and wine specialty retailers. The idea is to generate traffic for the site, but also to provide connections between the industry wine geeks and regular old geeks who all come to Berserkers as equals in geekery. It makes special sense because several of the industry types, such as myself, as only in the wine business because we were geeks who got to know others through the wine internet and gradually, or suddenly, fell into the business. For so long, that divide has been danced around by various discussion sites, with some successful bridging on sites like the West Coast Wine Network. But Wine Berserkers has taken the industry/wine lover connection to new levels, so that more producers seem to participate than any other site I know, in a way that connects the wine community more completely than I've ever seen before.

All that said, if you register for Wine Berserkers (it's free), you can take advantage of the silly deals many producers offer on Berserker Day. Vincent Wine Company is participating, of course. And though I won't spoil the surprise, we're offering two different packages, both the best deals we've ever offered with one package offering an archive bottle that is simply unavailable to you any other way. Not sure when during the day the Vincent offer will go live, or how long it will last. So do what I'm going to do. Log in and check in throughout the day. Should be real good.

Remember, you must register for the site to see and participate in the BerserkerDay deals. Hope to see you there.

Feast of St. Vincent

2011-01-23T14:05:00.000-08:00

January 22 is the feast of St. Vincent of Saragossa, the patron saint of the vigneron and adopted patron of Burgundians. I named my winery Vincent not only because it's my name and my uncle and grandfather's, nor because "vin" in is the name. No, with a focus on Pinot noir and many things Burgundian here in Oregon, I thought it made sense to reference our historic patron, St. Vincent.

Because it would be a little too self-referential to drink my own wine to mark the occassion, I thought it appropriate to open a bottle of Burgundy. Specifically, the 2005 Gerard Raphet Bourgogne, with no importer's label and, under the foil capsule, a nice bit of cellar gunk. You might think the wine had leaked, causing mold to grow on the cork. No, this is clearly wine that was bottled without a label or capsule and left to age in the producer's cellar until it was sold, then cleaned off, mostly, and labeled and capsuled. When I pulled the cork, sure enough, there was no sign of leakage. Instead, the gunk is evidence of old school production methods.

The wine followed suit. Even from a ripe year like 2005, this wine was translucent ruby in color with clean, crisp red fruit aromas. The flavors were similarly light and bright, perhaps a little too cranberry for casual sipping but nicely lively and richer with a simple mushroom and egg noodle pasta, not unlike a simple nebbiolo (which might have been a more classic match). In sum, a simple but honest way to mark the feast of my namesake. Am thinking I might have to throw a bigger bash in future years to celebrate the day. My own Fete de St. Vincent. Interested?

Malolactic fermentation

2011-01-22T11:23:00.001-08:00

Ignore if you're completely bored by winemaking details, or if you want to complain about my sloppy process with paper chromatography.

Here's a picture of the progress of malolactic fermentation in the barrels of 2010 Vincent Pinot Noir. That's where sharp malic acid in young wine is converted by good bacteria to smoother lactic acid, a key part of the elevage or maturation of wine in barrel. As soon as "ML" is done, most people add some sulfur dioxide to help keep the wine smelling and tasting fresh until bottling. So it's important to monitor the progress. You don't want to add sulfur too early, and you don't want to wait too long to add it once the process is complete.

What does this picture tell us? At the bottom there are markings where drops of wine from each individual barrel or tank were dried on the paper. Then the paper was rolled up and soaked for several hours in developing solution, much like one would do with camera film. Then you let the paper dry or develop and here's what we see. The lowest strip of yellow is where the wine drops where. The next strip is strong evidence of tartaric acid, the primary acid of any grape wine. Then next portion up is where malic acid shows up. Mostly, it looks like ML is pretty much done, maybe not barrel 6, and a few others show some faint traces of malic acid. Then at the top the yellow strip shows lactic acidity. That shows up strongly in every barrel (there is no barrel number 2, so that's why that column doesn't show much of anything).

At the start, there was no lactic acid, only tartaric and malic. So things look pretty complete. The next step is to test the lagging barrels again, or perhaps test them at a commercial lab for precise levels of malic acidity. Once everything is definitely done, in goes some sulfur and the wines rest for several months to settle out and continue to evolve. And thankfully, because wines in barrel in the middle of ML taste weird. I'm ready to see what we really have with the 2010 vintage. Lots of promise, but like rockets when they used to go behind the moon, it's time to reconnect and see where things are.

Bandol, and thinking of remote

2011-01-16T20:13:00.001-08:00

Remote is a word that tantalizes. The thought of being somewhere, we hope with someone, remote, whether actually far from civilization or more simply far from one's own civilized norm. Paris comes to mind, a city where foreigners can lose themselves and yet feel remote amid millions of other people.

Many wines come from more typically remote places like western Australia or Argentina's Patagonia. Places where few people live or even visit. Yet for any of us, there are places synonymous with wine that can provide that remote feeling, whether we travel there in actuality or simply through a glass of wine. Oregon is surely one of those places. It's a wonderful place to lose yourself, even if you never leave your home to taste our wine.

For me, remote is somewhere like Bandol on the Mediterranean coast of France. Not because the autoroute doesn't go right through it. Nor is it a place where few people live or visit. But where else would you want to take your love, to eat and drink and walk and wander? And perhaps other things, all with the aim of letting go and finding things you never knew you were looking for.

Tonight that meant coming home from the winery, full of thoughts about winemaking details and wine business realities, all good things but wonderfully in need of something remote. So I opened the 1998 La Bastide Blanche Bandol to match with steak, new potatoes and brussels sprouts braised with pearl onions and walnuts. Not a classic match, but when you need somewhere remote, you just go with it. The good wine, good food rule in action.

The wine delivered. Imagine walking in the hills of southern France, uncannily familiar to me when I traveled there once and found scenes that reminded me of my native Santa Monica Mountains. The brushy herbs and dusty soil, mixed in wine with aromas of strawberries and meat. The fierce tannin of the mourvedre grape, tamed by the steak and nuts and potatoes on the dinner plate. Some sweetness of bottle age showing through, that impossible to describe scent and flavor like caramelization or torrefaction. Impossible like trying to capture and express the feeling of remote, that once in a lifetime feeling of something, some place, someone more special than you've ever known.

Wine is hardly the only conduit to remote. But I like its ability to transport us to so many places, many of them holding the possibility of remote. The only thing to top it will be to actually travel there, with that someone, and let go.

Two nights of trouble

2011-01-15T17:57:00.000-08:00

Occasionally we must document the various issues we face with certain bottles of wine. Usually when they happen in succession and wear us down, the only thing to do is blog in frustration.

It began last night. We bought fresh rotini pasta and marinara, and while it's not a perfect match, I thought why not try the 1996 Ca Rome Barbaresco Maria di Brun. Picked two up at auction a while back, the first was oxidized and I was suspicious of this one. Looked fine, should have been fine, but wasn't. Damn.

So we dial back for some "everyday" Barolo, which readers should remember well. The 2006 Reverdito Barolo that I wrote about last fall that was available locally for well under $20. Absurd pricing for real, even if entry-level Barolo. Wouldn't you know it. Corked. That unmistakable scent of mildew from improperly processed cork.

That's where I draw the line. So out comes the 2005 Paolina Chianti Classico that we picked up dirt cheap when Whole Foods opened in our neighborhood a while back. Nothing fancy, but good honest Chianti with a little extra richness than usual. Perfect with the meal and obviously what I should have started with. Barolo and Barbaresco needs something more, though my rule with wine and food matching starts with wine you like with food you like. You don't need to get fancy with matching.

So tonight we're making our version of enchiladas - vegetarian, with mushrooms and spinach. Meaning, it's not actual Mexican food and to be honest, not my favorite and certainly not something I look forward to on a weekend night. What's the right wine match for Mexican food? Beer. But I like slightly sweet white wines, and they do well with spicy food. So why not throw caution to the wind?

I opened the 2005 Tessier Cour-Cheverny That's off-dry wine from the romorantin grape in a somewhat obscure appellation of France's Loire valley. I had this on release and it was delicious. Tonight, from a bottle that was already in the fridge, it smelled a little odd, tasted ok and then...bleeech. Sour yogurt. Clearly something biological in this bottle, turning a not quite right wine to something vile and immediately poured down the drain.

Oh well. Pffft. Wait, what's that? Oh yes, the sweet, sweet sound of beer bottles being uncapped. Oregon's own Heater Allen brewing out of McMinnville. Isarweizen, for those who care. Clearly I should have known better and started here. Will remember for next time, no doubt.

2008 Seven of Hearts Pinot Noir Willamette Valley

2011-01-12T20:09:00.001-08:00

Jennifer made a simple wintry meal of porcini and crimini mushrooms sauteed in a little cream, mashed potatoes accented at the table with truffle salt, and pan fried fennel and carrots. Really, really delicious, and crying out for Pinot noir.

So we opened the 2008 Seven of Hearts Pinot Noir Willamette Valley. I've written about this producer before, which has a tasting room in Carlton that you shouldn't miss. Seven of Hearts wines, their estate label Luminous Hills, and Honest Chocolates. All excellent stuff, the products of Byron and Dana Dooley. Great people, great stuff. A must stop in Carlton, which has quickly become the center of Yamhill county wine tourism, with several quality tasting rooms within a few block radius and some good food as well.

This wine started out a little reticent. Dark colored but still translucent, the wine only revealed its perfume with some airtime in the glass. Fragrant, strong black cherry aromas, still delicate with floral hints and a little wood spice. Nice acidity, soft tannin but not overly polished. In short, classic 2008 Oregon Pinot noir. Ripe but still restrained, monolithic at first but opening with airtime and clearly showing the structure and flavor components to improve for a few years, at least. And this is their base level, least expensive bottling.

I've tried through all the '08s from this producer, and perhaps reported elsewhere on this blog. But trying this entry-level bottling on its own, wondering if perhaps it wouldn't be as good as I remembered...let me just say this is excellent. Find it, enjoy it now. Age it a little and enjoy it later as well. You can't go wrong. Nice work Dooleys.

Oregon's most mysterious wine

2011-01-05T21:16:00.001-08:00

I've long heard about Cameron Winery's nebbiolo project, but never until recently did I see any bottled wine, much less have a taste. I'd heard of nebbiolo vines grown in the Clos de Bess section of the estate vineyard in the Dundee Hills, perhaps the only local planting (please correct me if that's wrong). I'd heard of pruning issues with the vines over the years, where apparently the first few buds on a cane aren't fruitful. Something you might know or learn if you lived in Italy's Piedmont and prune accordingly, meaning different than you might with pinot noir. I'd even seen a small barrel of nebbiolo wine in the Cameron cellar a few years ago on a visit, so I knew wine existed. I'd even heard of small amounts of bottled wine making it to a few local restaurants, but in this string of hearsay this is perhaps the most spurious.

But it was only in December that I saw bottles, several in fact, of 2006 Cameron Nebbiolo Dundee Hills, a beautifully simple label that features a tricycle. The broader significance of that is a mystery to me, but suffice it to say I'm not going to sincerely flatter Tricycle Magazine (the Buhddist review!) with my own Tricycle label. Actually, Jennifer put the kibosh on that, but I saw this label and that's what I thought. I like the label.

So how is the wine? Really, really good. This is like no domestic nebbiolo I've tried. We always want to compare things, but this isn't Barolo or Barbaresco. It's Oregon nebbiolo that's high toned and perfumed, rich in the mouth with signature nebbiolo tannin, nice length and savor that would be delicious to try over the course of an evening. Unfortunately, I only had a taste. There isn't much of this wine. It's precious, for sure. But even at the $50+ price tag it's very interesting and something worth trying at least. I sure would love to hear about other people growing nebbiolo locally. It's such a terrific grape and so unknown as a varietal here in the US. That should change.

Schone Schlucht Riesling

2011-01-04T22:48:00.000-08:00

Tonight we sampled a little local riesling. Actually, it was Weingut Ackerman Riesling from the Mosel river valley in Germany, imported and labeled by Portland's Schone Schlucht, producer of local "Teutonic" red and white wine. If you haven't tried the wines of Schone Schlucht, give them a go. Understand they are truly unique compared to standard Oregon fare. From their Alsea vineyard in the coast range to more typical grapes sources, the wines are distinctly crisp and bright across the board, nervy, mineral, perhaps challenging if you simply want to knock something back but full of life, delicious and memorable.

And very Teutonic in style. When was the last time you saw domestic Riesling at something like 9% alcohol, sehr German? Who in Oregon labels a Pinot noir as Spatburgunder? I met Olga and Barnaby Tuttle, who grow rows of chardonnay in their NE Tillamook Street house in Portland, a while back and commented to Olga about how unique their wines are. She said yes, and that she wasn't sure at first but Barnaby was convinced of his vision for winemaking. Sure enough, there isn't anyone doing what they are doing, and the market seems to be responding well. It's a great story.

But they don't just produce Oregon wine. There's this German companion to Schone Schulcht's more commonly available native wines, a special partnership with the terrific producer Weingut Ackerman. This 2009 Riesling is everything you could want in fresh, inexpensive German riesling, and something I'd love to see in more local riesling. Light, fresh, peachy flavors with intense acidity but moderate sweetness that I think matched wonderfully with our dinner of vegetable and gruyere fritatta, arugula and fennel salad, and crusty bread. Jennifer thought it might have been a touch sweet, but I think it worked well with the mild saltiness in the food and the delicate textures. And at 9.5% alcohol, it's very reasonable to enjoy on a Tuesday night. I loved it.

New Year's Eve and waffles

2011-01-03T20:21:00.001-08:00

What a lovely New Year's Eve we had the other night. We were invited back to a celebration hosted by the owners of a local wine shop, who were most gracious to have us over last year for the first time. I was entranced then by one guest arriving with a pyramid of glazed profiteroles, or what I now know is a croquembouche. I was determined to bring a pyramid of my own, though made of something closer to my stomach. Why not Liege waffles, perhaps my favorite treat of all? These are Belgian sugar waffles made with yeast, eggs and chunks of pearl sugar, among the usual waffle ingredients, that make me dream of college days as a student in Europe. This is the ultimate street food for me, and though there's a "window" locally that makes a good version of these waffles, they're a little too American for my tastes.

I spent all afternoon making several batches of waffles, in part to bring to friends kindly looking after our kids for the evening, in part to have enough to make a real pyramid. Wish the picture showed the height of the waffle platter. To me, these irregular waffles look as good as they taste. Sure enough, people audibly remarked when I brought in the plate. Unfortunately, most people didn't touch them until late in the evening, one person remarking that he thought maybe there was a sauce or something to go with them. No. The chunks of sugar melt during cooking, making the waffles essentially glazed from the inside. Toppings really just gild the lily here. If you're at all interested, I recommend this link for a good, authentic recipe. You're welcome.

Of course, there were incredible wines to try at the party. NV Clouet Champagne Grande Reserve, full and rich, especially decadent from a 3L bottle. 1999 Cameron Chardonnay Abbey Ridge from the Dundee Hills of Oregon, showing a little wool and funk around the edges. I preferred the fresher, more clear but rich 2000 Cameron Clos Electrique Blanc, gorgeous Oregon white wine. Stunning really. There were Zind Humbrecht whites from the 1990s that I didn't get to, a magnum of 1999 Sauzet Puligny Montrachet from one premier cru vineyard or another that was typically austere and young for its age.

Then a ton of reds, again many I never got to. Just had fun talking with old friends and new, eating a variety of delicious food and enjoying the fire on a cold Portland night. The 2008 Crowley Pinot Noir Entre Nous was excellent, as are all of Tyson's wines in 2008. He's a friend, but really, you should try these wines if you haven't. He's making some of the best stuff locally that I know of. I'm happy for him and his delightful wife Emily. I brought my two 2009s, the Vincent Eola-Amity Hills and the Zenith Vineyard. People seemed to like them, or at least not visibly look ill upon trying them. A win, no? I tried other things, the 1990 Produttori di Barbaresco Montefico Riserva, still young and not as giving as I would have guessed. The highlight had to be the 1978 Bouchard Musigny, more evolved than I expected and very good but not great. Still, Musigny on New Year's Eve. Hard to complain.

In all, a nearly perfect night, one of those evenings where time slips away and you lose yourself in the moment, enjoying the atmosphere and the company, and just genuinely enjoy yourself. And by the end of the night, the waffle tray was nearly empty, meaning I had one last chance to take another for myself. Yeasty, rich, slightly crunchy from the sugar. Yes, nearly perfect.

Checking in on 2006 Vincent

2011-01-02T16:50:00.000-08:00

I can hardly have red meat and not pair it with some red wine. Tonight I'll test that because we have some steak but it's the end of a long holiday and a tall glass of sparkling water is probably the more prudent match.

But the other night, with a small piece of beef alongside some pasta, why not pull out a half bottle of one of my homemade wines, the 2006 Vincent Pinot Noir Wahle Vineyard. Readers and garage tasters might recall this wine, made out in the garage, aged in a 5-year old French oak barrel from Domaine Drouhin, then bottled in early 2008.

2006 was a warm vintage and the grapes for this wine were pretty ripe, despite coming from deep-rooted old vines planted in the 1970s outside of the town of Yamhill. Older vines ripen more slowly and resist heat a bit better than shallow-rooted young vines. I was worried the grapes were too ripe to capture the subtlety of Pinot noir, and for a while the wine was indeed more fruity and rich than I like my Pinot. It's not shy but a few years in bottle, especially a smaller bottle that should age more quickly, have tamed the wild exuberance of youth. There is still a bowl of fruit in the aroma, but there is now some sous bois of age, just a hint of maturity that shows itself like a walk in a damp forest. With the simple meal, the wine was delicious, more nuanced than I remember and in a great place for drinking.

People often ask me how long my wines will age. Who knows? But in general I prefer riper vintages on the younger side, so that a few years after bottling the wine should be at its best. 2006 and 2009 are good examples. Wines from cooler years are like less mature cut flowers, needing more time to open and release their perfume. 2008 and, likely, 2010 are examples. And wines from rainy harvests tend to need a little time to show their best, but may not have the density to last as long as the best years. 2007 might be an example, very generally speaking. I find that most 2007s were much better a year or two after release than right after bottling, yet contrary to some wine geeks' opinion, I haven't seen many wines that have the substance to reward longer term cellaring. The best may last and improve over time, but I think most are going to show their best now to a few years from now. So, too, with this generously ripe 2006. It tastes great, I'm happy with how it's turned out. I'm not going to wait too long on most of my remaining bottles.

Crab and California chardonnay

2011-01-01T11:15:00.000-08:00

It's Dungeness crab season in the Pacific Northwest, one of my favorite aspects of the holidays is eating cracked Dungeness with a rich white wine. Perhaps steely but still rich white Burgundy, or roussanne from the northern Rhone. Or Oregon chardonnay. Or even...California chardonnay, provided it's from the right location. I don't want anything too sweet and overdone. But as much as I usually prefer racy, lithe white wines from all over the world, there seems to be a perfect match in a nice, rich chardonnay with the sweet meat of Dungeness crab.

New Season's market had (perhaps still does?) a great special on fresh Dungeness, and coming back from Los Angeles the other day I quickly got back into the Oregon spirit by picking one out at the fish counter. In the fridge, a stray bottle of 2006 Sarah's Vineyard Chardonnay Vanumanutagi Vineyard, from California's Santa Cruz Mountains, the spread out, can't-get-there-from-here wine region south of San Francisco that is perhaps my favorite from my native Golden State.

I remember Sarah's Vineyard wines from my early days as a wine geek in the early 1990s for their ostentatious labels and sky high prices. Who is this Sarah, I wondered. I never purchased, never tried the wines, and now many years later I came across a bottle and thought I should finally see what was inside. The estate has changed hands over the years and pricing seems almost unchanged from the old days, meaning what was crazy expensive is not simply mid-range for fine wine. Times being what they are, the bottle I found was on close out for next to nothing. Tough times in the wine business.

The wine is golden in color, a large-sized chardonnay with toasty oak and hazelnut aromas along with ripe apple and pear scents. The balance is nice though, and the flavors are fresh and crisp despite the obvious ripeness, with a nice lingering finish. Sometimes this kind of wine is tasty for a few sips, then tiring. But I really enjoyed the mix of power and finesse here, and as I slowly picked my way through each crab leg and the wine warmed up, it really showed some mineral quality that makes the Santa Cruz Mountains a special region to me. There's something more here than just fruit and oak notes. Something that kept me coming back for more, that paired exceptionally with the crab.

I'm trying not to OD on my crab habit, but it is New Year's Day today and what better thing could there be than to have more crab, another delicious white wine and watch some football with neighbors? Well, I can think of something, but this will be pretty nice. Happy New Year to you. Eat crab, drink a nice white wine. You'll thank me.

Great wines and friends

2010-12-21T12:12:00.000-08:00

Since we're visiting southern California and feeling at home in the pouring rain, what better time to see old friends from our San Francisco days who live locally. We'd reconnected with Paul and Barrie last year at this time here at our family beach condo, along with other friends who we missed this time around. This time we traveled south to their lovely old Spanish-style home for dinner and tastes of a few really good and interesting wines.

I'll spare you the details of the older kids playing video games and the occasional chase around the house with the younger twins who have endless energy. Though it was really fun and Paul and Barrie's kids are impossibly cute. Instead, the wines, first the 1992 Zind Humbrecht Tokay Pinot Gris Clos Saint Urbain Rangen de Thann. I don't know my Alsatian grand crus nearly well enough, but I know this is a top vineyard with a long history worth knowing about. So how was the wine? This isn't Oregon Pinot gris, to say the least. Eighteen years old, opulent and ripe, lightly sweet but nicely balanced, rich with stone fruit juiciness and an expected mineral quality, all still youthful and clearly capable of aging for another decade with ease. This was exceptional.

Then a bagged wine, a red wine I guess to be some no sulfur gamay from Beaujolais or maybe the Loire. Some spritz at first, pungent strawberry and ashy earth aromas. Bright and a bit lean in the mouth, there's great energy in this wine and a long, slightly cheesy finish. Clearly no sulfur but I had no idea it was from Sicily. It was the Frank Cornelissen Contadino 7 Rosso Etna, from the slopes of Mt. Etna made in amphorae with the Nerello Mascalese grape. This is totally natural wine, something many winemakers would taste and remark, "you know, some sulfur would clean that right up." But that's not the point. And strange as the wine is, I found it grew on me, especially tasting a bit with pizza dinner. Probably more of an intellectual pleasure than purely delicious, but I still really appreciate wine like this. But I'm a wine geek.

Paul also opened the 2009 Domaine Dubeuble Pere et Fils Beaujolais, imported by KERMIT LYNCH in case the label's too subtle. This is really good, more straightforward wine compared to the Cornelissen. Just another example of how great 2009 is in the greater Beaujolais area. Purple, bright fruit and gravel and soil notes, great texture, simply delicious gamay.

But the coup de grâce was the 1942 Jean Bourdy Cotes du Jura, a World War II era bottle from the remote Jura region near Switzerland. This bottling is a blend of Plousard, Trousseau and Pinot noir, aged three to four years according to the back label (en Francaise) in old oak tonneaus. The wine was probably better some time ago, but still was a delight for its history and flavor. Almost honey gold in color, the aroma was meaty with some pungent notes from oxidation. The flavors were seamless, with a nutty middle and finish like a dry sherry, certainly from oxidation in the winemaking and elevage process and also from 60+ years in bottle. Again, an intellectual pleasure more than anything, though also memorable purely for its taste.

Thanks Paul and Barrie for such delightful wine and for opening your house to us. We'll have to repay you in Portland.

Vincent Wines in the news

2010-12-11T10:22:00.000-08:00

It's shameless but I'm not above that. Check out this article in this week's Portland Tribune on urban wine making in Portland, Oregon. Some colleagues and I are featured, and if you're local, the print edition has some really good pictures. Only one seems to have made it online. Ok, end of shamelessness.

Bottling Nocino

2010-12-05T11:44:00.000-08:00

This weekend saw the final act of my nocino (no-CHEE-no) making that began last summer -- bottling and my version of labeling. In July, I picked green walnuts, chopped and soaked them in a variety of liquors and sugar and spices. Two partially full gallon jugs worth sat for months to steep and oxidize and otherwise maderize. Last month I poured the now chartruse brown liquid off the walnuts and sediment to settle some more and continue aging. Now it's December and time to finish things off.

This was my first attempt to make nocino and I thought I would make two jugs worth instead of just one, to have plenty. But after all this time, I figured I'd get only a little more than 4L of liquid. So I found square 250mL bottles and some t-top corks, which would give me between 16 and maybe 18 bottles. That's not too many if you plan to give a bunch away as gifts and keep several for aging, drinking, cooking (nocino whipped cream, anyone?). This stuff is good. So next year I'll have to make even more.

I began by straining the nocino once more through folded cheese cloth, into a tub big enough to combine both jugs. One jug had more sugar, the other less, but a blend turned out to be best. Then I poured the blend carefully back into a jug to make filling each bottle easier, with the little yellow funnel to keep things tidy. The only real challenge was dealing with foam that came from pouring the liquid, as you can see in the jug. I filled each bottle, waited for the foam to subside, then topped up and put a t-top cork into each one All together, I had 18 bottles.

I rinsed off each bottle and let them sit overnight, before heating up yellow sealing wax in a stove top pot to dip the bottle necks. It was tough to get the wax just the right temperature to adhere well to the plastic tops of the t-corks. Finally I got things right, waxing each bottle and dipping the waxed top into cold water to set quickly and give a little shine.

Then a final wipe down and silver Sharpie to sign each bottle in a way that ended up echoing old port and madeira bottles with their white stencil paint. So how does this nocino taste? Think liquid gingerbread with a kick. It's fairly sweet but appropriate to balance the pleasant bitterness of the walnut tannin. What experience I have tasting others' nocino, age should smooth out any rough edges, though this nocino isn't excessively tannic or bitter as I might have feared, being a newbie. In all, I'm very pleased and there are some lucky people out there who will get a bottle.

1990 Lopez de Heredia Vina Tondonia Rioja Blanco Reserva

2010-12-03T20:55:00.000-08:00

I got home tonight and was compelled to tweet how love is coming home to 1990 Lopez de Heredia Vina Tondonia Rioja Blanco Reserva.

Our neighbor Jamey had mentioned recently on a walk back from the kids' bus stop how he loves this very old school Spanish producer from Rioja, one of my favorites. Tonight he came by with a nice glass pour from the end of the bottle while hosting a Hanukkah dinner. I wasn't home yet but Jennifer graciously accepted such a gift, though Jamey apparently said "you should just drink it all."

Not bad advice. Jamey's no fool.

Jennifer of course saved me half and, upon my return from a long day at work and some play, I put my nose in the glass. How can 20 year old white wine be so fresh? Yes, the wine is aged in oak for several years and intentionally oxidized in the process, softened and opened by time. Then bottled and held for years.

Now, the cork finally out and wine in the glass for drinking, there is an aroma of spiced lemons, wax and a soft, pleasant herbal character from the American oak aging. And a freshness that belies twenty years since the grapes came off the vine. In the mouth, there's richness and acidity, a brightness immediately that amplifies to a full flavor of lemon cream, spicy wood and jelly candies, then acidity to tighten the flavors and carry them nice and long.

There's an impressive dynamic to this wine. It's clearly not simple wine, yet it's not complicated or difficult to enjoy. Perhaps that's a trait of the greatest wines, and while this is not what I'd call "great," it is very, very good and special. Thanks Jamey, and thanks love for saving me some.

1995 Taylor Fladgate Quinta de Vargellas Vintage Port

2010-12-01T19:52:00.001-08:00

Of the leftovers from Thanksgiving, one wine remains. The last wine, the port. On yet another cold rainy Portland night, it seems fitting to finish it off at last. And reflect on wine of such quality and a small personal story.

I remember finding a little cache of 1995 Taylor Fladgate Quinta de Vargellas Vintage Port several years ago for a remarkably low price (a common story it seems in my cellar). I asked the manager about the price and he said that's what the distributor sent, and maybe it wasn't the right wine (should have been the Late Bottled Vintage, I'm sure), but that's the price, go for it. So I bought six.

Douro Port houses declare "vintage" ports every few years, when the quality is exceptional so that excellent young wines are bottled after two years, sold at a premium and intended to age for decades in the glass. These are the wines collectors prize most. The '77s and '70s, '63s and '45s, among other classic years. Most years produce more basic ruby wines that are bottled early for their grapiness and tawny wines aged longer in cask to develop more nutty qualities. You'll see these commonly for low prices in grocery stores and wine shops, and they provide nice port drinking (and cooking) quality without the depth or price of the more serious wines.

However, there are some particularly good years that may be declared vintages by many houses that for one reason or another aren't declared by others. Typically that happens in years such as 1994 and 1995. '94 was exceptional, and many houses quickly declared the vintage to produce their top wine. However, '95 was also excellent and, had they not declared '94, perhaps '95 would have been the "vintage" year of for a given house. For many, it was declared. For others like Taylor's, you see what I'll call a junior vintage Port, the single quinta (or vineyard) bottling.

We won't fall into the trap and call this wine as good as regular vintage quality. Sometimes wine marketers will make such claims, about single quinta Ports or, for example, Cotes du Rhone from a vineyard "just outside" one fancy appellation or another. This isn't vintage port, plain and simple. But it's darn close and considering the track record of Quinta de Vargellas wines going back to the '50s and earlier, clearly there's longevity and real potential here for development in the cellar.

So how's the wine? Well, young as I would expect, even at 15 years of age. Deep ruby color, with a classic peppery, spirity, mixed berry, fresh tobacco and raisin aroma. The flavor is moderately sweet with excellent richness and fresh acidity, softening tannin and peppery, tobacco flavors to add savory qualities to the plum and berry fruit. The finish is long, slightly warm and simply gorgeous, even after the bottle has been open for nearly a week. There are many dessert wines in the world, but vintage port is one of the most classic and delicious. This wine shows why. Love it.

And a story. I found this wine is early 2002 and brought a bottle to a tasting event where my friend, Roy Hersh of For the Love of Port out of Seattle, brought a bottle of 1935 Sandeman Vintage Port. My young single quinta wine paled in comparison to Roy's special bottle commemorating the coronation of King George VI. But Roy is so gracious. We had a nice conversation about Vargellas, its history producing terrific ageworthy wine. My '95 showed well but young, and time is still a friend here. I'm happy to have more. If you're wondering, that '35 Sandeman was pale ruby and spectacular, everything you could want in old Port. I can still taste it.

The night was particularly memorable. I'd found out that morning that my wife was newly pregnant with our now 8-year-old son Martin, something I couldn't share with anyone because of the fragile uncertainty of things. We were leaving for Australia in the morning to visit family, obviously it had been a big day, and now here were wines by which a guy like me will remember everything. That legend from 1935 and one of several bottles from 1995 that I would open over many years, commemorating that time of life. This Thanksgiving marked the first time since then I'd checked in on the '95 Taylor. I'm happy to have the opportunity to check in again and again.

1987 Ravenswood Zinfandel Dickerson Vineyard

2010-11-28T18:05:00.000-08:00

I'm not alone in owing my allegiance to zinfandel to things like old Ravenswood zin and David Darlington's book Angels' Visits. These days you might know Ravenswood as a ubiquitous brand on grocery store shelves across the U.S. Back in the day, Ravenswood was a small Somona producer of serious zinfandel, wine at the time considered "big" but downright subtle by today's alcohol and ripeness standards. I can relate to founder Joel Peterson, starting a winery with a day job and a passion or obsession with a certain vision for wine.

Nearly 20 years ago when I got into wine, I first read Angels' Visits, what was a new book at the time. Subtitled An Inquiry into the Mystery of Zinfandel, it was just that -- a journalist's inquiry into the story and appreciation of California zin. If you like wine and wine books, you might have found like I have that you can read a good book about wine, even wine you don't know about or care about, and both LOVE the book and find yourself compelled to seek out the wines mentioned therein. Good travel writing is similar. You read something and find yourself compelled to travel somewhere you would never have guessed. Happily, with wine that travel can be a lot simpler.

Angels' Visits is one of those books, and something that many wine lovers I know will easily suggest if asked about good wine books for a summer trip or just lounging around the house, preferably with a glass in hand. It's set in the late '80s, chronicling the '88 harvest at Ravenswood with lots of juxtaposition with Ridge winery down in the Santa Cruz mountains, another zinfandel legend.

There's also a great recounting of zin's mysterious history in California, somewhat out of date given more recent genetic study of zinfandel's origins but still worth knowing for the CA history and what zinfandel meant twenty and more years ago. There are visits to specific vineyards, like Old Hill and Dickerson, and California wine legends like Darryl Corti of Corti Brothers in Sacramento. There's dinner at Chez Panisse, reason enough to read anything in my mind. And there's homebrewed zin. The author Darlington contributed to my winemaking inspriation by making his own home zin with Ravenswood-sourced grapes as a narrative foil to the zins he observed in production all over northern California during the time he wrote the book.

One of the several threads in the book is the critical reception of the 1987 Ravenswood Zinfandel Dickerson Vineyard. Dickerson is one of the top sites for zin in California, interesting for being in Napa (cabernet country) where most top flight zinfandel comes from Ravenswood's home, Sonoma. Dickerson is known for producing wines with intense minty eucalyptus character, like the old Martha's vineyard in Napa, similarly surrounded by oily eucalyptus trees. Without being a spoiler, near the end of Angels' Visits we learn that Robert Parker of The Wine Advocate has awarded the '87 Ravenswood Dickerson 93 points, then an extremely high score (things have changed in that arena). The implication is that the Dickerson reputation is reaffirmed.

Fast forward to last year when I found a bottle of 1987 Ravenswood Dickerson Zinfandel at auction for a pittance. Why not buy and see if a premise in the book, supported by Parker's reviews at the time, was true - zinfandel could age and Ravenswood Dickerson zin especially could age, perhaps turning Bordeaux-like.

So with Thanksgiving dinner, the American holiday, a quintessential American wine opened alongside a cabernet-based Bordeaux, the 1994 Cos d'Estournel St. Estephe. The Cos was prototypical Medoc wine, gravelly cassis and bell peppery cabernet with resolving tannin, a good amount of French oak, but nice length and savor. I was really impressed with this wine, which is still young but drinking well. By contrast the 1987 Ravenswood Dickerson was evolved, still together and to my taste delicious but clearly on the far end of the evolutionary spectrum. Not tannic as the Wine Spectator apparently complained on release. Lots of eucalyptus notes that people seem to either love or hate (the former for me in this case). And sweet/savory dried red fruit flavors that went well with the earthy flavors of Thanksgiving dinner.

Before you dismiss the zinfandel as an overdone new world mess unfit for any dinner table, note the 13.8% alcohol on the label, back when that was high, justifying Ravenswood's now tired slogan "no wimpy wines." Whatever happened to 13% range zinfandel that can age and match with food, even decades into its life? There are a few still out there, but if you're like me, you're also trolling the auctions to find these lately unwanted gems. And thinking about pulling out Angels' Visits for yet another read. Like some wine, great books can get better with time.

2000 Lucien Boillot Pommard Les Fremiers 1er Cru

2010-11-23T22:41:00.000-08:00

After a long week+ of all kinds of things in life, I came home last night and simply wanted a really nice bottle of wine. Something to enjoy, to ponder, that would keep me interested all night. Where else to go but Burgundy.

So the 2000 Lucien Boillot Pommard Les Fremiers 1er Cru. Oregon wine fans hear a lot about the Pommard clone of Pinot noir. Cuttings from the Chateau du Pommard in this Cote d'Or village were the source for lots of plant material in California and Oregon, especially the latter.

That doesn't mean our Pommard clone wines taste like wine from the village Pommard. We do prize the earthy quality of Pinot noir wines made from part or all Pommard clone here in Oregon. Tasting the real thing from a top producer, from a premier cru vineyard in the village, it's clear there are echoes what we believe to be true about the Pommard clone. But so much more, including what I can only describe as a real taste of the earth. People debate to no end whether or not mineral flavors (if minerals even have flavor) are present in wine. I can only point to much good Champagne and the taste and texture of chalk. Then to good Cote d'Or Pinot noir like this, with a firm mineral quality that's not acidity or fruit or tannin or barrel flavors. Nor in any other Pinot noir I've tasted outside Burgundy.

So what was this bottle like? At first a little mature, but in a way that suggested it would recapture some youthful freshness as the wine was exposed to air. Don't ask me the science. I just know the experience. The color was young and the elements seemed less mature than the package. Sure enough, the aroma developed a mix of black cherry, sous bois or wet earth, and a distinct cured sweetness that really good aged wine, like aged meat, gets. There was clearly a lot going on with this wine aromatically.

On the palate, there was bright acidity and fine tannin, medium bodied flavors without quite the breadth of the aroma but nice length, lingering with a mineral savor that makes food more interesting as well as the next sip of wine. Essentially, just what you want from a nice bottle of wine. At least, what I consider nice.

A field trip to the Eola-Amity Hills

2010-11-20T09:24:00.000-08:00

This week, I spent a nice afternoon in the Eola Hills with my friend John Grochau, visiting Mark Bjornson of the Bjornson vineyard and Erin Nuccio, the new owner of Evesham Wood. We were checking with Mark about grapes for the future and took the opportunity to check out Erin in his new digs.

I'm happy to announce that, starting with the next harvest, Vincent Wine Company will source grapes from Bjornson. I can't wait. John has already produced two promising vintages of wine from Bjornson, and Erin started sourcing there in 2010 and will continue. Not bad company for me to be in, I think.

We first ran a few errands in Dundee and McMinnville, making our way down a wet and windy 99W and crossing the Eola Hills on Zena Road. Passed the Zenith vineyard, another Vincent Wine Company site, the vines a mix of yellow leaves and bare branches like all vineyards in the area this time of year. Around and up the hill, we arrived at Bjornson vineyard.

Mark and wife Pattie Bjornson are Minnesotans who first planted this site in 2006. The initial Pinot noir vines came into production with the 2009 vintage, with more blocks like the one pictured coming on line in 2012. The site is just south from the famed Seven Springs vineyard, which is visible from the Bjornson's kitchen through the trees and across the ravine. Not a bad neighborhood.

Bjornson vineyard looks ideal. It has a mix of south, southwest and east exposures, with volcanic Nekia and Jory soils. The pictured block looks due south to Salem and is particularly rocky. Elevation is in the 500' range. The site is LIVE certified and there's even a wind turbine just out of view that provides electricity for vineyard operations. But how does that translate into wine? Based on what I've tasted from barrels at Grochau Cellars, this site produces powerful wines that retain great elegance. Not unlike Seven Springs. This is a different site, but the resemblance is promising.

We tried a few things at Mark's, including brand new Gamay noir made in their barn as well as official 2009 Bjornson Pinot Noir, made by Aaron Hess of Daedalus. The gamay is fresh and should be good home wine. I hope to get some Bjornson gamay grapes in the future. The '09 Bjornson shows nice restraint for the hot vintage, though Mark thinks it's just a bit closed still.

Then down to Evesham Wood close to Salem. Erin was delayed so we walked the estate Les Puits Sec vineyard, here in an old white block looking up to the Tudor style house, with winery in the basement. Very old world feel here. Looking the other way, we would see a great view of Mt. Hood and the Willamette Valley, though the elevation here is lower, only in the 300' to 400' range. The wines from this vineyard prove that elevation isn't everything.

Before Erin arrives, we hang out on the crush pad checking out what's changed from five years ago when I worked the '05 harvest here. Yes, a shot of a younger and thinner me working with Russ. Pushing a drained fermenter into place by the old press, getting ready to empty it out the old fashioned way - with buckets. Even then, cellarmaster Miguel and brother Isaro were talking about a bin dumper. Waiting for Erin, we catch up a bit and the topic of the bin dumper surfaces. It's apparently going to happen.

When Erin arrives, we head into the cellar, seeing Miguel moving a stack of barrels with the funky old stand up forklift that reminds me of the droid/monster Box from the '70s era sci-fi classic Logan's Run. Maybe you had to be an impressionable kid with questionable taste to get see that one.

So we walk back into the barrel cave and start sampling various '09s still resting before bottling in winter or spring. A cask of Les Puit Sec is typically broader and full but with, again, nice restraint for the hot vintage. The lower elevation here mean this site comes in early, a boon in cool years, sometimes tougher in hot years but not this time. Very nice. Then Temperance Hill, '800 above Zenith and Bethel Heights, very ashy Pommard clone character with taut cherry and cranberry flavors. Love the finesse here. A sample of Eola Springs, from the western side of the Eola Hills, shows typical light and bright flavors. Good nerve here.

The Illahe we tried will go in a single vineyard bottling, though most barrels still make up the base of the Willamette Valley cuvee already bottled and released. This sample is floral and perfumed, without too much weight. Then a final taste, from the Bryn Mawr vineyard across the road from Bethel Heights. Not unlike Temperance, which is just up the road. Ashy, cherry, bright. This vineyard has been sold and perhaps Bjornson replaced it in 2010 going forward. Alas, no samples of Bjornson. The 2010s are too new to try, but Erin is excited as is every winemaker I've talked to. Here we see him with wine thief in hand, bathed in backlight and the fuzz of a crap iPhone camera. If you can see his smile, that's Erin. A big smile, and if I were the new owner of Evesham Wood with wines in cask like we just sampled, I would be smiling big too.

A postscript on the transition at Evesham Wood. Erin detailed what we've heard more generally elsewhere. Russ and Mary weren't looking to sell the winery as much as find the right place to hand it down. Apparently they offered it to Erin a while back but it took him a while to say yes. There's a weight to taking on what Russ and Mary built, and just as they wouldn't give it to anyone, Erin's smart enough to know he should make sure he felt up to it. Needless to say, he does, and he's very sensitive to not wanting much change in the approach. I thought pricing might go up, but no, there will be no increases beyond anything ordinary. There will be a bin dumper and already I saw two new presses. But the "Box" fork lift is staying. The farming. The winemaking approach, pretty much everything. Without saying any specifically, Erin mentioned that he and Russ don't agree on everything, which stands to reason. But that only underscores how much they do agree. Haden Fig, Erin's other label, will continue and provide more ground for experimentation. So Evesham Wood fans should be very excited for the future. I know I am.

We bid goodbyes with talk of comparing Bjornson barrels in the spring. That should be good.

Nocino update

2010-11-11T18:21:00.000-08:00

You may recall my post from July about nocino, the green walnut liqueur made in southern France and Italy and, more and more it seems, Portland, Oregon.

It all started with my friend and Guild Winemakers co-conspirator Anne Hubatch and family holding their annual nocino party on the last weekend in June. That's traditional nocino-making time, when walnuts are sizeable but still immature, the way you want them for nocino.

The Hubatch party had been featured prominently in Mix magazine in 2009, complete with instructions on making your own nocino. We were invited to this year's party but because of the crazy cold and wet spring, the walnuts weren't ready for nocino until mid-July. By then, I'd gotten my neighbor Edward's permission to harvest lots of walnuts from his front yard tree. So with a ladder and tree trimmer turned walnut harvester, I drew the attention of the kids on the block in my quest for perfectly underripe walnuts. With lots of help, I gathers several dozen and took them home to make nocino. After quartering the walnuts, I simply put them into two jugs and poured in white wine, vodka, everclear, cloves, cinnamon sticks, fresh orange peel and varying amounts of sugar as a test. The jugs were intentionally not filled all the way, then left out in the light, heat and cold to oxidize as much as possible over four months.

It's November and time to strain what's become a brackish liquid and check on progress of flavor and aroma development. I'd periodically open and close the tops of the jugs to give a sniff and to get more air in contact with the liquid, to help tame the fierce tannin from the walnuts. Thing really unripe bananas, and think of the oxidizing process as a slow cooking that helps sweeten and cure things until they are delicious. At least that's the idea. Along the way, things smelled great but quick tastes showed lots of raw tannin. I hoped time would help calm that down.

Now, I strained the nocino first through a fine mesh strainer and then again through the strainer lined with cheese cloth. I did a good job catching bits of sediment and the occasional wedge of blackened walnut, which you can see here. The fragrance of the nocino filled the garage where I was working and I couldn't wait to taste the nearly final product.

First I tried the half sugar jug, pouring a bit into a dessert wine glass and holding it outside to get a good look at the color in natural light. This sample was fairly bitter and tannic, definitely in need of either more time, more sugar, or most likely both. Then I tried the full sugar jug and it was much fuller and smoother, if a touch too sweet. I found it interesting that the full sugar batch on the right, which started out lighter presumably because there was less air in the jug (more full because of more sugar), now it's darker. Seems like the sugar caramelized to a browner color while the lower sugar jug on the left maintained more of a honey color, with some browning in the middle but noticeably less than the other.

I originally thought I'd end up bottling the two batches separately, but I found that a mix of the two samples was best of all. Now I'm thinking I'll blend them, but for now I kept things separate. Here are the two jugs of stained nocino in the middle, bracketed by the original jugs with stains on each showing the original fill levels., before I shook out the walnuts (which didn't take more than a minute for each jug). I'll let the strained nocino sit for a few more weeks to settle out more sediment, then perhaps strain again and pour into little bottles for keeping and giving. Neighbor Edward will get some, as will the Hubatch family. I'm definitely saving some for the future. I've seen that nocino can improve dramatically for a few years. But I'm sure a few other bottles will find their way into other hands. Nothing like nocino for the holidays.

Harvest 2010 wrap - part two

2010-11-09T19:54:00.000-08:00

See part one here.

We left off at pumping the freshly crushed grape juice over the grapes skins, to aerate the "must" (what you call the unfermented, crushed grapes) and gently begin extracting color and aroma from the skins into the juice. Then our technique is to let the fermenters sit for days on end until fermentation starts naturally. Temperatures and sugar levels are checked daily, and things monitored to make sure no issues arise. Once the grapes have naturally come up in temperature by the beginning of fermentation, this year about a week later, we punch down the cap of grape skins that rises up in the bin (think bread dough rising).

Once fermentation is going in earnest, the cap rises nearly to the top of the fermenter and things warm up significantly. This year temperatures rise to the low 90sF. Here you can see the thermometer reading about 84F.

The view from above a bin, the punchdown tool in the fermenting must and the telltale visual of fermentation, foam, rising through the hole made in the cap. The cap of grape skins can be a foot thick or more in these 1.5 ton fermenters, and they are tough to punch through at the peak of fermentation. As things wind down, the cap softens and things are easier to mix.

Here's Armstrong grower Doug Ackerman lending a hand with the punchdown tool.

Things are more than busy in any winery at harvest time. Still, there are moments of reflection, especially on a beautiful evening when you know you'll be working late.

And things frequently go late. Bin after bin of grapes to be sorted. Then everything to clean up, only to get dirty again the next day.

Mornings are the time to check the fermenters, using a strainer to get new wine to test for sugar level, temperature and acidity. And senory evaluation, meaning smelling, tasting and of course spitting, to see how much tannin is in the wine, among other things to watch for.

Here's a beautiful shot of pinot blanc destined for another label fermenting, the bubbles of carbon dioxide sparkling like stars. Stars that smell like guava. Space like that would be nice, no?

When fermentation is done, it's time to drain fermenters. Here is one of the Armstrong bins three weeks after picking and processing. Using a sieve, the new wine is pumped into another bin to settle for a few days, the grape skins scooped out to smaller bins that can be dumped into the press.

Here's that wine being pumped into the settling bin.

Here are the grape skins dumped by forklift into the press.

About 80% of red wine from a fermenter is "free run," meaning it is liquid you can draw off the skins without any work. The other 20% is "press wine" that comes from squeezing the skins. Here's the press pan full of press wine, much cloudier than the free run wine for all the solids pressed out along with the wine.

After a few days of settling, the final task is putting the new wine in barrels. Once everything is in barrel, harvest is essentially done. Here's a tag on one of the iron barrel racks that needed some repainting to protect against rust before barrel filling.

The barrels get cleaned and filled with wine, stacked by fork lift and stored for a year or more of ageing. Harvest is now done, and never a moment too soon. It's November and time to begin looking forward to the coming year.

Harvest 2010 wrap - part one

2010-11-08T20:46:00.000-08:00

We're back after a busy month bringing in grapes and making new wine. Rather than detail the events just in words, let's try a more image-based approach, starting back in the middle of the growing season.

Here were are in late July at Armstrong vineyard on Ribbon Ridge, well past flowering so that the grape vines have set their crop but well before veraison where the grapes turn color and begin to ripen. All looks good, as we'll see, things continue to go well despite strange spring, summer and fall weather that makes even jaded Oregonians think twice. Cold and wet in spring. Mild in the summer. Ultimately perfect in the fall.

Speaking of perfect, here's my bride at Armstrong on that gorgeous late July night, walking in the paddock with our daughter, chasing neighbor horses. Life is good on Ribbon Ridge.

Our son Martin in the vines this same night. Looks like a future Oregonian vineyard hand and cellar worker if you ask me, not that I'm pushing the kid too hard.

Meanwhile, down at Zenith Vineyard the Pommard clone Pinot Noir in Block 6G is looking good in mid-September. Leaves completely pulled to promote good airflow with our cool and occasionally downright humid late summer conditions. Veraison has come and gone but harvest is still weeks away yet.

Up at Armstrong, the grapes are looking better and better. You can even see a little dehydration, not something we look for but something that indicates the exceptional ripeness this vineyard achieved in what was a challenging year in many sites.

Daughter Dolores in the vines at Armstrong, late summer. We are on a vineyard walk talking about ripeness, what it looks, feels and tastes like. She is pretty interested. One of the highlights of my summer for sure.

Yours truly, in a rare appearance on these pages. Enough.

Early October now at Zenith. Lower leaves starting to yellow, fruit more than completely exposed but looking fabulous. Tim Ramey and company at Zenith do an incredible job.

That same day, up at Armstrong where leaves in the 667 block are also starting to turn. I pull cluster samples at both sites to see for myself how things measure out and taste.

Back at the winery, those samples provide the first look at 2010. Juice coloring up pretty quickly, definitely a sign of ripeness. Flavors sweet with strong acidity. Sugars higher than expected and the call is to pick two days later at Armstrong, the following week at Zenith.

That means it's time to wash picking bins. Harvest is on.

Friday morning, October 8 at Armstrong vineyard for the first harvest off this site planted in 2007. The crew works fast and clears all 12+ acres in half a day. Amazing work.

The sun comes out after the clouds burn off, and the grapes arrive at the winery. Now the real work for us lazy cellar people begins. Meanwhile the pickers are undoubtedly drinking beer. Well earned.

Jennifer on the sorting line, smiling because this is just the beginning. And because this is great looking fruit. After several hours of sorting through each cluster, it's not so fun. But she even looks great then too.

The final shot of part one - a pump over of the newly crushed grapes to mix them well before they sit until fermentation begins naturally. That means no punching or pumping for a week or more. Nothing until things get going really well, then twice daily punchdowns to mix things well and aerate the fermenting grapes. We'll see next time how things proceed.

Art, science and luck - harvest 2010

2010-10-25T21:55:00.001-07:00

A friend gave me this terrific phrase that pretty much sums up my view of making wine - art, science, luck. It doesn't just have the right elements. It has them in order.

Great wine is an expression of specific grapes, of a place and a season. It is an artistic expression, and not simply that of the winemaker. Wine as we know it is not natural without human intervention. Still, humans are a part of nature and our role in guiding grapes to reflect what we at least perceive to be their nature is fundamental to what's interesting and artful in wine. Anyone can ferment something and make it drinkable. I believe the art of making great wine is about helping the uniqueness of a specific lot of grapes become real and beautiful. Something you can smell and taste.

Of course, there is science. We study the biology and chemistry of soil, plants and fruit in the vineyard. Then we take the grapes at harvest and analyze their components, perhaps intervening to preserve the integrity of what's there. We monitor sugar, acidity levels and temperature throughout fermentation, observing smells, tastes and textures along the way. For me, the goal of science is to understand what's present and what's happening, all with the intent of allowing what's there to best reveal itself in the finished wine.

And there's luck. Luck implies something happening that won't usually happen, and great wine is undoubtedly the product of luck. Luck in the growing season and luck in the winery, where things that you've done before, perhaps after a season that might not have been entirely unprecedented, somehow delivers something truly exceptional. Doesn't this happen in so many walks of life? From sports championships to a great novel, how many times do people produce something extraordinary and spend the rest of their time trying to recapture that result?

But luck has another side. My dad, like many dads I suppose, used to say that luck happened to people who worked hard. Luck in this way being fortune, something that might be repeatable with a certain diligence. I think of the best improvisational musicians. They study and practice, tune their instruments and set things just right, then let go and allow fortune to reveal something great. The result is usually not something anyone had in mind, which is the point, as if there's a combination of artistry in the musician and the music itself, so that the musician is channeling or funneling something more essential than he or she would have consciously delivered. How many times do we hear winemakers talk about talking great grapes and simply trying to not screw things up? It's really true.

That's winemaking to me. You go into it looking for expression. That's the point. You are diligent about analysis and technique, with the goal of preserving that expression. You then let go to allow something greater than you to happen. So, harvest 2010 has been about harvesting, sorting and destemming, adding some sulfur to preserve integrity, and largely letting the grapes ferment without interference. Each fermenter was mixed once, then left alone for a week or more until it became active, then monitored for a complete fermentation.

The goal isn't to say this is the right or best way to make wine. Rather, to see if the result will be reflective of the grapes, their place and season. And perhaps something lucky, either chance or fortune, will come from it. At the least it should be unique. So far, I think it's a mix of both. I'm excited for what harvest 2010 in the northern Willamette Valley is producing. Stay tuned as the new wines age through the winter and spring.

Old vine pinot at Medici vineyard

2010-10-19T22:10:00.000-07:00

I spent this glorious day at Medici Vineyard helping friends field sort a few tons of Pinot noir from 36 year old own-rooted Pommard clone vines. Medici is high up in the Chehalem Mountains, off Bell Road due north of Newberg. If you're in the area and see a steep vineyard high up on the hills, that's Medici. This shot is from the top of the vineyard, at 800 feet looking west to the Dundee Hills. It ended up around 70F with a light breeze, shirt sleeve weather in later October. Unbelievable.

I think of today as a field trip, to taste and see grapes in a vineyard I've never before visited, then helping with the processing at a winery in the McMinnville wine ghetto. There's nothing like getting out of your cocoon to see how other people think about and work harvest. What did I learn? Nothing major, just little things about vine health, grape maturity, sorting technique and general approach to fermentation (hands off). The biggest thing might have been how comfortable I finally am with all the usual duties of bringing in and processing fruit. It's not rocket science, but there's a difference between following along and staying out of the way and knowing what needs to be done and when.

I guess that's a long way of saying I actually helped out and it felt good, especially seeing friends get their first lot of grapes for a new project. Meanwhile, things are cooking back here in Portland. All of my own fruit is in and things look great. More on that soon. I'm late for an appointment with my dreams.

2006 Reverdito Barolo - Excellent Deal in Portland

2010-10-15T21:02:00.000-07:00

Readers know I'm a sucker for a great deal, or at least the idea of a great deal. But really, what would you say if I told you I'd found a Barolo under $20? You'd dismiss me with a "stop buying your wine at Trader Joe's." Back away from some industrial shell of such a noble DOCG.

And you'd likely be right. Trader Joe's is full of low budget and low value Amarone and Barbaresco, appellations that typically command high prices and promise incredible wine experiences. So how is this possible? Barolo, the king of nebbiolo from Italy's Piedmont region, for less that $20? That's a normal price for regional nebbiolo these days. How could you possibly get Barolo for such a price, much less something that's not only better than those nebbioli but worthy of the Barolo name much less any of your money?

Enter the 2006 Reverdito Barolo, in the local Portland market from Zancanella Importing for around $19. Reverdito is a smaller producer of Dolcetto, Barbera and Nebbiolo from the town of La Morra. Usually their wines offer good value, with notable prices on their Codane and Moncucco Barolo in the $28 to $35 range, low for Barolo though perhaps because Zancanella imports the wines directly.

Then I was in Vinopolis recently and saw the latest Barolo for just $18.99. I had to ask shop owner Dan about the wine. He said he believed Reverdito blended all their Barolo for this vintage together in one bottling, and priced it to move. If it were as good as basic regional nebbiolo I would be happy. But tonight with homemade pizza this wine is absolutely delicious. It's rustic but powerful, not lacking stuffing for nebbiolo's classic tannin and acidity. It's dark ruby colored but translucent, still traditional with lovely dried flower, spicy cherry and tar aroma. Perhaps there's some barrique aging here, but I find nothing overtly modern here. You won't get the finesse and elegance of top producers. You will get true Barolo character and depth for a lower price than I've seen in many, many years for real Barolo.

The back label tells of the Reverdito vineyard holdings. Two acres of Dolcetto d'Alba, two of Barbera d'Alba, five of Lange Nebbiolo and eighteen acres of Barolo, all in the villages of La Morra and Serralunga d'Alba. This wouldn't matter if the wine was no good, but this is good wine, all from a very small area that I believe produces Italy's most exceptional wine. Wine like this won't make you forget the wines of Giacosa or Mascarello. However, this seems like an exceptional opportunity for authentic and delicious Barolo for the price of peanuts. For the record, Liner and Elsen also has this on the shelf and I imagine others in the area have it too. Anyone can order it from Zancanella, assuming it's still available. Barolo at this price won't last long.

Ready to pick

2010-10-06T22:03:00.000-07:00

Got a report last night that our Ribbon Ridge site, Armstrong Vineyard, was closer than I expected to harvest. Grape sugars in the 23 range and acids in the 3.3 to 3.4 pH range, still very bright but the way I want them. I had to take the day off work and visit both of our sites, to see and taste things for myself.

First stop, Zenith in the Eola-Amity Hills. This is such a great site and I'm always happy taking the Wheatland Ferry across the Willamette to get there. Without a bridge across the rive between Newberg and Salem, we take the old car ferry, turn off the engines and glide across the water for a few minutes. It's lovely.

Then to Zenith to check out block 6-G, where I get Pommard clone Pinot noir. As I got to the ferry I received an email from vineyard owner Tim Ramey with tons of numbers for various blocks, including this one. Sugars were 21.3 and pH was a teeth-rattling 3.03. I walked the rows and took my own sample. Fruit tasted close but not quite there. Things look great so we should have no problem waiting another week, though as is the case everywhere this year, bird pressure is high. Lots of birds eating the ripening grapes.

As an aside, is this the year of the critter? Last year the fruit crops from cherries to grapes were huge. This year, the mosquitoes were rampant, the raccoons wrecking havoc in my garden, the birds everywhere, at least it seems.

Then up to Armstrong on Ribbon Ridge. Bird pressure is strong here too. Happily, we're about to pick. I took samples in all three of my blocks, clones 115, 667 and 777. Sugars had been reported in the 23 range, with pH in the 3.3 to 3.4 range. Flavors are generally great, with a few less ripe berries. That's fine. I'm not looking for huge ripeness and my readings below suggest plenty of sugar development. Acids remain bright though, which I'm excited about.

Today got up to the low 80s around the northern Willamette Valley. What an absolutely gorgeous day, nearly 15F above the norm this time of year. Certainly our last day at 80 and we'll be happy to hit 70 a couple more times. The season is nearing the end, but the grapes will hang and continue to ripen even with weather in the 60s. What we don't need is a lot of rain. Some is on the way, but apparently good weather is on tap for next week.

Back at the winery, the grapes samples I picked came out sweeter than expected. Pommard from Zenith was 22.1. From Armstrong, the 115 came in at 24.5 brix, the 777 at 24.3, and 667 at 23.8. All at or even above what I'd hope (23.5 if you're wondering). Number don't tell the whole story. Still, things are clearly ready at Armstrong and I'm excited for the vintage. You can see the juice above. Things smell and taste great.

Seattle road trip

2010-10-04T20:53:00.000-07:00

I spent 30 hours this past weekend on the road to and from Seattle. The point was to connect with Vincent Wine Company wine buyers up that way, seeing old friends and meeting new ones. Along the way I took the opportunity to listen to some music on the drives and visit some wine shops, and one West Seattle music shop, and otherwise enjoy some solo time before the impending harvest.

Out in West Seattle, I visited West Seattle Cellars, a tight little space packed with wine and people on a Saturday afternoon. Nice to see a shop that I'd heard of for many, many years when it was owned by internet wine guy Mattman. Didn't find anything I could live without, but up the street I did luck into exactly what I wanted, a used copy of Elvis Costello's All This Useless Beauty, which I have on vinyl and love but can't easily listen to in the car. Sorry old schoolers. I broke down.

Then to Esquin where I found the first cache of 2005 Clos de la Coulee Serrant for less than $40. I guess Joly wine isn't the rage it used to be? Some other deals in this legendary Seattle store, but nothing I couldn't live without. I did grab a Joly. The up the road to the imposing Safeco Field and Qwest Field complex. And what did I see? Ha.

Look closely. That says "Portland, Oregon...Soccer City USA...2011" which is when the Portland Timbers join MLS. Yup, right in the Sounders' grill. Love it.

And what's this? I can't resist slumming it in the Grocery Outlet. Aside from some more than decent Neil Empson close outs from good Piemontese produces, there's a true GO oddity. The 2002 Jasper Hill Shiraz Georgia's Paddock for $25. Aussie cult wine, in the discount bin essentially. If you're in the area and into that kind of thing, that's a steal. Jasper Hill is one of the great Aussie producers. I grabbed one just to check it out.

Then up to Seattle Wine Storage to drop a magnum for a customer. The guy working there finds out I'm a "winemaker" and thrusts a glass of mystery wine in my face. What is it, he asks. It's hard to read, but I get to gamay. Yes. Beaujolais. Yes. Morgon. Yes. Turns out it's the 2009 Brun Morgon, and he also has the 2009 Brun Brouilly. Both excellent and probably steals for what they cost, but they came from out of state. This guy has a bad impression of the local wine market, for things like this anyway. Fair enough. I'm buying Aussie shiraz, ferchrissakes.

My drops done for today, I stop by Champion Wine to see this Euro-centric shop. It's a little warm inside, as I'd read online. But the selection is nice and I find a bottle of Marchesi di Gresy Barbaresco Martinenga Camp Gros for a nice price and buy it. Meanwhile I talk with the owner about my project and maybe plant the seed of a future buyer. We'll see.

Then I head down to Pike Place to Pike and Western. Cool to see some Oregon brethren represented but I'm more taken with the latest issue of the Oregon Wine Press that somehow is all over Seattle already. My guy Francois is on the cover. Could have been me. They wanted to feature home winemakers and I was set to be part of the story, but I'm commercial now, so they asked if I knew anyone with a photogenic set up. I know Francois, and there he is on the cover of the October issue. Nice job. Cool to see Vincent Wine Company written up on page 12 though. Check it out. Francois, Jean-Jacques from Pike and Western says hello. Hope to be on the shelf here on day.

Then to the flying fish people in the market. Why? I don't know. They just throw fish and I think it must hurt the quality of the meat, no? I guess I can't help being a tourist.

Great old friends put me up for the night, much to my wife and children's chagrin. They would have liked to be there with me. Next time. There will be a next time.

Late the next morning I set off to lunch with Thad Westhusing of the Beyond the Bottle blog. Thad and his family were terrific hosts for a lovely lunch featuring delicious 2006 Roulot Meursault and a modest bottle of my 2009 Eola-Amity Pinot Noir. The Meursault was excellent, all sea shells and lemons and nerve. My wine was showing nicely, if I may say that. Fragrant, red fruited and spicy, but not wood spicy. Honestly, this was the best showing it's had since bottling. The wine is pretty nice, I won't deny. We said goodbye with talk of connecting down here during harvest, which would be excellent. Thad, I'm holding you to that.

Then I drove east to the burbs across Lake Washington, for some deliveries and a visit to Pete's Wine Cellar in Bellevue. Honestly, not my favorite spot though they had more of that Coulee Serrant for even less than Esquin. I leave without buying, which is good because the point of the trip wasn't to buy wine. No, it was to see the city and its people, then head south to home with the sounds of Chavez Ravine in my ears, long shadows and fading cottonwoods. It's October, we're not yet picking grapes, I'm roadtripping and everything's good.

Harvest approaching

2010-09-29T22:33:00.000-07:00

When you make wine, everybody always asks, "so, how are the grapes?" Every year there's a story to tell, and this year the story is more unusual than normal. Some years are wet, some dry, some hot, some cold, some with early bud break, some with late flowering, and so on. This year has had it all. Dry, warm winter that's typical of El Nino years in the Pacific Northwest. That meant budbreak, where the new vine shoots begin to grow in the spring, was in late March and early April, two weeks early. Everyone was concerned a late season frost would kill all those shoots, and while we got close, it never happened.

So it's an early year, right? No. After budbreak, the skies opened and the temps plummeted, with record spring rains, swollen rivers locally and instead of flowering early, we were two weeks late with flowering happening in late June into early July. Talk about reversals. Then summer came and while we had dry weather for nearly two months straight, temps only rarely turned hot. This was the bummer summer, good for those of us without a/c but bad for tomato growers and, it seemed, grape farmers. Then came September and the skies opened again. Things looked gloomy, we really needed a stretch of warm, dry weather, and wouldn't you know it. It's here. We've had days in the 70s and 80s lately with some unusual humidity that's passed, and the short and long term forecasts are very positive. All told, this was one crazy year that on the one hand I wouldn't want to repeat, but on the other I actually prefer to the torrid heat last year. Pinot noir doesn't like all that heat, and though it doesn't like cold summers, if we can keep this beautiful fall weather going, things could be at least good if not great. We'll see.

Here are some shots from recent vineyard visits, so you can see for yourself some nearly ripe fruit and leaf canopies that are still nicely green and able to turn that sunlight into grape sugars, aromas and flavors.

Pommard clone Pinot noir at Zenith vineyard last week. These grapes look great as usual, and aytpically they are more advanced then most of the other clones in the vineyard. Good this year.

The view from the southeast corner of Armstrong vineyard on Ribbon Ridge the other day. These vines are young Wadenswil plants, that might get ripe and go into one of my fermenters.

Higher up at Armstrong, some nice looking clusters, healthy, getting sweet and tasty, just needing a bit more time. Don't they just look like they'll make good wine?

The real nemesis this time of year. These trees to the north of Armstrong are positively screaming with birds, which like to eat ripe grapes. The netting is up on many vine rows but the birds are smart. They're an old sign of ripeness. When the birds eat, we're close.

In sum, things look great for Vincent Wine Company grapes in 2010. We may have the first fruit in next week or weekend. Then it's time to make wine.

Guild exposure

2010-09-28T20:32:00.000-07:00

Very cool to wake up this morning to an article on Guild Winemakers in the Oregonian. Throughout the day the piece got picked up by places like eater.pdx and oregonbusiness, with other outlets planning articles or radio pieces. Even Jon Bonne, wine editor at the San Francisco Chronicle, tweeted "A brilliant concept ... score one for Portland" with a link to the Oregonian article. I agree. This is exactly what Portland needs, and perhaps many cities. Cooperation. Reasonably priced wine for everyday drinking. Alternative packaging. Urban wine culture. It feels right, no?

Guild Winemakers

2010-09-19T19:53:00.001-07:00

A little news from the wine business division of elevage...

You know I've started my Vincent Wine Company label. Now I'm happy to announce my part in a new co-op wine project called Guild Winemakers. After months of planning and work behind the scenes, we're finally going live. Guild is a partnership of John Grochau of Grochau Cellars, Anne Hubatch of Helioterra Wines, me and a fourth "mystery" winemaker who needs to remain nameless for now. Our project is about many things, but foremost we are friends who all live in the city of Portland and enjoy the creative process of working together making, blending and selling wine. Our goal is to produce high quality wines of exceptional value, focusing on reds from Rhone varieties (for now) and crisp, food friendly whites.

What's different here is that we're not just bottling wines. We're also offering wines in kegs and, soon, in bag-in-box format. People are already doing this of course. But there needs to be more people packaging wine in new and different ways, reducing materials usage and keeping costs and prices down. Kegs allow restaurants to offer fresher wines by the glass without lots of waste if bottles aren't finished before going bad, and worse if the restaurant keeps pouring that stale wine. Bag-in-box format allows individuals to do the same. Of course there is lots of Guild wine available in bottles, but we want to do more and more in alternative formats. Stay tuned on that.

For me, Guild Winemakers is a great opportunity to keep growing in my wine making and wine business knowledge, and do things collectively with the group that would be more difficult if not impossible to be doing on my own. So I'm really excited to be part of it and to contribute to it.

Yesterday, we launched the first Guild wines at the joint open house for Helioterra Wines and my Vincent Wine Company label. Along with our own Pinots, we poured the Guild White Lot 1 and Guild Red Lot 1. The White is a 2009 Willamette Valley Pinot Gris, crisp and flavory, easy with or without food. The Red is a 2008 Columbia Valley blend of 67% Syrah, 25% Mourvedre and 8% Counoise. The syrah gives deep fruit and spice tones, the mourvedre and counoise adding lift and peppery notes that, when we were doing blending trials, really made a more interesting and unique wine than the syrah alone.

These Guild wines are hitting the market in the next week. We're already at work on white and red Lots 2.

2002 Clos de la Roilette Fleurie

2010-09-15T20:56:00.000-07:00

In honor of Joe Dressner's big day, I thought it was fitting to open up one of his imports, the 2002 Clos de la Roilette Fleurie. That, and the potato leek soup Jennifer cooked up on a cool rainy Portland evening. What a dish (the soup, of course) and what a wine. Thanks Joe and company for bringing things like this to America. As I hope you can see, this eight year old bottle of cru Beaujolais came out of the cellar in perfect condition, appearing like it was bottled yesterday. The cork stained just on the end. The wine a dark translucent ruby color. The rest...well, in honor of Joe, I'll refrain from the typical tasting note. Suffice it to say this wine is aging wonderfully, with lovely perfume and zingy flavors that linger nicely. What some would call light and even thin, I call focused and energetic. Full of the woods and rain, not froot, with tang and grip that slaps you in the face ever so lovingly and commands your attention, then defers rightfully to a homemade meal. Perhaps like Joe himself. It's life giving stuff, fitting birthday wine. Here's to tomorrow.

ps - anyone know where I can find more of this stuff? I can't believe this is my last bottle. Fool.

Wine labels from Imprint Design in Portland

2010-09-06T14:08:00.001-07:00

For the move from garage winemaking to a commercial enterprise, we had to change our wine label. Two reasons. One is that the home label was a quick thing a neighbor friend put together back when we bottled the 2006 Vincent Pinot from the Wahle Vineyard. It didn't have much thought, aside from ripping off the simple script on white style you find so much in France. Think Lapierre's Morgon. In reality, so many French producers who had script labels are going for something a little more up do date. Catherine et Pierre Breton in Bourgeuil come to mind. They didn't go up market, rather changed to something simple but refined. If we ripped off Lapierre at first, now it's the Bretons' turn. [kidding, of course]

Second, as an astute reader pointed out when I first posted about that label for the 2006 Vincent Wahle Vineyard, what my neighbor and I came up with looked a whole heck of a lot like the simple script labels from California producer Stephen Vincent. Same look, similar name, ack. This could have been horrible. In my research about using the Vincent name - there are so many people who have it as part of their name, but they do all manage to co-exist - I wrote to Stephen and he called me as I was shopping in my local Trader Joe's. The name is no problem, he said, but when I mentioned the label I had at that point, he did think it would be a good idea for me to go in another direction.

It made sense. I wanted something more professional considered, and something with a graphic element to completement the Vincent name and perhaps to stand on its own as our symbol. So...who to work with on wine label design? I had some names to consider, but I really wanted to work with someone good. Luckily, I had heard about Angie Reat of Imprint Design. Her partner is Matt Bereson of Love and Squalor, wines that I enjoyed and wrote about here before getting to know Matt personally. His wines are delicious, and Angie's design work seemed promising. So it made sense to meet with her and see if there was a good fit.

Turns out Angie and I both went to San Francisco State for grad school (my wife went there as well). She had worked for years in SF, in Italy as well, and now had been in Portland for some years, working and being active in the design community. In short, she's a pro and that was clear from meeting with her and discussing design. In my work at Portland State, I hire professionals to teach what they do, in classes geared for other professionals looking to advance in their careers. Angie immediately struck me as someone who I'd hire to teach, and naturally someone who I wanted to work with.

We met a number of times during the course of this project, always at Little T Baker on SE Division and 26th. Great bakery, Angie's choice, obviously a good sign for a pastry fanlike me. We talked about specific elements of design but also about the big picture, branding. She encouraged me to embrace ideas that were uniquely Oregon, not French, something local and natural to our place where this wine is grown. Her initial design ideas varied widely in direction, giving me choices about where I wanted to go with my labels. That was great. I loved two ideas in particular, and we went forward with them, refining the concepts until it was clear what I wanted. The final design is based on a waking dream I had where I envisioned wheat like on the old Lincoln pennies that I grew up collecting. On the back, they say "One Cent" and I imagined "Vin Cent," my name, the patron saint of wine and wheat, the source of bread and a staple of Wheatland, the northern part of the Willamette Valley. It all just fit and when I mentioned the concept to Angie, she was obviously pleased and ran with it. (I didn't want anything literally like a coin on the label, but it is true that the first Wheat penny came in 1909, one hundred years from Lincoln's birth. Now, cent years later, our first wines from the 2009 vintage. Strange, no?)

From a rough idea, we ended up with the Vincent type face, the wheat kernel over the "i" and the graceful shaft of wheat as the design element I had been searching for. I wanted something that could stand on its own, aside from the name. Or with the name. Or the name on its own. With this design, we have exactly what we want. Simple, elegant, graphic but subtle, something I would want to see on my dinner table and something I hope many others would feel similarly about. That's exactly what I talked to Angie about at the start, and she did it.

For the "reserve" wine, we opted for a reverse of the main label. This year, our only single vineyard "reserve" wine is the Zenith Vineyard. In future years I anticipate several special bottlings like this, so that this darker label may become the signature of our brand as we grow. Or perhaps we'll have another variation of the design for something especially special? We'll just have to see.

I love the design we've ended up with. We have a cohesive package that has already gotten incredible feedback from consumers and industry people alike. Just the other day I mentioned my project to a retailer aquaintance, and specially mentioned design and he cut in with essentially, oh, I've seen it on the web site, it's really good. I don't love the design because I think other people who need to like it will like it. But that really helps. Another restauranteur mentioned how she likes the overlap of Vincent and the wheat. Me, too.

In addition to the labels, Angie put together the web banner for my Wordpress site, she designed gorgeous business cards and got them printed, and in addition to working directly with the label printing rep, she put together imagery for printing on our corks so the website and wheat image are on each cork in our 200+ cases of wine.

In the end, I'm obviously very happy about my experience with Imprint Design. If you're looking for a wine label designer in Portland, definitely talk to Angie Reat. I'll continue working with her, and I'd love to see others working with her as well. I've since met other designers who are terrific, but Angie has something special to offer. Definitely look her up.

Machine harvesting pinot noir

2010-08-25T21:29:00.000-07:00

Oh, oh, oh, I get so angry sometimes. So I wake up the other morning and see a front page story in the Oregonian newspaper about a huge planting of pinot noir on the eastern side of the Willamette Valley, south of Portland. Great. I'm sure there is lots of potential for grapes on the largely unexplored eastside. My first homemade pinot noir was from what I jokingly refer to as the terroir of Mollala. I've had home wine from John Eliasson of La Bete Winery from the mid-1980s from grapes out Estacada way that was terrific. The westside dominates today, but like the Sonoma Coast's rise in the past 15 years, we may yet see the eastside gain respect.

But the essence of this story was that the rolling hills of the east valley are ideal for mechinized cultivation and harvesting of pinot noir. Chuck Wagner of Napa Valley's Caymus winery even endorsed the whole idea. Great. A cab producer thinks machine harvesting is terrific for the Willamette Valley. The writer chimes in that machine harvesting is used elsewhere, and we can cut costs 20% to 30%.

I can't say it any better than Scott Wright does in his Scott Paul Wines blog, so I'll quote him here. You should read his whole post for an (as usual) astute take on the current growing season, his recent bottling of '09s, and this issue of mechanized viticulture:

...a few investers and farmers are touting mechanical harvesting and mechanized farming as the path to success for Pinot Noir in the eastern Willamette Valley. I wish them luck, and sincerely wish everyone in this business success, but there are some serious problems with that approach. Nowhere in the world is Pinot Noir mechanically harvested on a regular basis and then made into a quality wine. You just can’t do it with Pinot - it needs too much loving care and attention, and every corner you cut in the production process dramatically lowers the quality of the wine. Yes, mechanical harvesting is in regular use in Burgundy - in CHABLIS, where they grow only Chardonnay. And even there, the top quality producers take the time and care and extra expense to harvest by hand. There simply are no shortcuts to good Pinot Noir. If the goal is to produce decent $15-$20 wines, California is already doing that to the tune of tens of millions of cases a year.

The truth for me is, our competitive advantage in Oregon pinot noir is the handmade factor of our wines. Scott's exactly right -- there's plenty of competition at the low end. There are lots of places that make good enough low end wine. While there's plenty of competition at the high end, there's no other place on earth that makes handmade Oregon pinot noir. There we have a chance at distinction. It may not be easy, but it's our best shot at market success and winemaking relevance.

The folly of cutting costs with machine harvesting huge tracts of pinot is just that, folly. Pinot is hard to make well cheaply. It's the truffle of wine world. It may not be for everyone. It may not be the most economical product out there. But it's hauntingly, memorably unique and worth the hunt it requires. There is no substitute for that.

Vincent Wines Open House September 18

2010-08-21T15:43:00.000-07:00

Hey. We've been writing for years about our winemaking project. Working harvests around the Willamette Valley. Making wine in the garage. Holding the ever popular garage tastings. Making the jump to commercial winemaking with the 2009 vintage.

Well Tuesday we're bottling those first wines. And on September 18 we'll have our first open house at the winery in NW Portland, at 2621 NW 30th Avenue. We'll be joined by our friends Helioterra wines, who'll be pouring wines too. Hours are noon to 5pm. Come on down.

Read the Vincent Wine Company site for more information. Hope you can be there.

A visit to Luminous Hills Vineyard

2010-08-18T21:28:00.000-07:00

A few days back I had the opportunity to visit the beautiful Luminous Hills estate vineyard of Byron and Dana Dooley, high in the foothills of the Oregon coast range. Technically this site lies in the sprawling Yamhill-Carlton District AVA. The address however is McMinnville and the site probably has more to do with the McMinnville AVA than Yamhill-Carlton. Perhaps it's something different altogether.

First, soils types vary here as they tend to in McMinnville. Instead of the typical Willakenzie series sediments of the Yamhill-Carlton District, we see that and the volcanic Jory soils more common in the Dundee Hills. Also, the elevation here is high, 600 to 800 feet, whereas most of the Yamhill-Carlton District is mid- to low elevation, typically on rolling hills that simply don't reach as high as this southwest corner of the growing region.

The Luminous Hills site was planted in the spring of 2006. Byron started our vineyard walk on the far west slope, where the sedimentary soils are planted to the Pommard and 115 clones of Pinot noir. The uppermost block of Pommard is on raparia gloire rootstock to devigorate the vines while the rest of the vineyard is on the workhorse 101-14 rootstock. Remember that most vineyards the world over contain grape varieties grafted onto disease resistant rootstock. Nothing different here, though rootstock selection can affect how the vines grow.

Things look good in the Pommard blocks and across the entire estate. Leaves have been pulled a few weeks back, exposing the fruit to light and allowing for better air flow. A second hedging happened just a few days ago. Perhaps another won't be necessary as the vines are focusing more on ripening fruit this time of year. Plenty of leaving remain for ripening, probably in October given the elevation and our cool summer. Below the Pommard blocks we find the 115 clone, which set a bit heavier. The vineyard crew will drop more fruit here and clip off more wings and shoulders to leave fewer and small grape custers, all the better to be nicely ripe come harvest time.

On the eastern side, we find the volcanic Jory soils. Here Byron planted the 667 and 777 clones to give a little more spice to what can be more fruit driven variants of Pinot noir. Most of the vineyard if fairly steep, and it's especially clear in the long sloping rows of these uppermost blocks. In the swale between blocks, you see a gorgeous old Oregon oak that the Dooleys couldn't help but leave in the vineyard.

From the top the view is magnificent, even luminous. The name is apt and the wines gorgeous. I've written about them before and I'll follow this post with some thoughts on the latest wines I tried later in the day of this visit. Needless to say, if you can find either of the 2008s from Luminous Hills, the estate bottling or the more limited "Lux" bottling, try them. They are tremendously delicious and interesting wines that should cellar and evolve nicely.

Above this top area of the vineyard is a fallow area that Bryon says might be planted to white wine, perhaps gruner veltliner. No plans are definite yet, but I like the idea of planting something unusual in this area. Some local gruners, the grape of Austria, have shown great promise. Knowing Bryon's style of winemaking, I bet he'd make something of benchmark quality for our region.

Overal, I came away from this vineyard walk even more excited about Luminous Hills than I was at the start. There are several excellent producers in our region, makers of the highest quality. While Luminous Hills is pretty new, I'm ready to put them up there in that top eschelon. I'm not much for rankings, but clearly this site is special and the wines from it equally so. I've written before that I must disclose that he and I are both sourcing fruit from the new Armstrong vineyard on Ribbon Ridge, so take my words with that in mind. Truth be told, I'm looking forward to learning from Byron. That's part of why I'm so excited. He's such a modest guy, he just shrugs that off, saying he thinks he's going to learn from me. Perhaps, but I'm guessing I'll get the better end of that deal.

Vincent 2009 Pinot Noir Futures

2010-08-13T17:33:00.000-07:00

In case you want to read what we emailed out to our mailing list members, check out the latest post on the Vincent Wine Company news page. It's never too late to join our email list, but this futures offer is only good through August 31. So pick what you want and let us know by the end of this month and we'll get you our first wines this fall.

The Billionaire's Vinegar

2010-08-10T18:29:00.001-07:00

Yeah, I'm just getting around to reading and now writing about The Billionaire's Vinegar. You don't come to élevage for breaking news, at least I hope not. We're more reflective here. And so it will be for a "book review" of a book that's not exactly new nor will be reviewed in much depth.

It is a fun read. Check it out if you're a wine geek with some interest in history and nothing more pressing on your night stand. It's summer. This is a good page turner. Of course, you might instead peruse the newly released 3rd edition of The Great Domaines of Burgundy too. That's not exactly a page turner though.

The Billionaire's Vinegar tells the story of the alleged and now infamous 18th century Jefferson bottles of Ch. Lafite. How "super collector" Hardy Rodenstock, nee Meinhard Görke, allegedly conned wine experts and the world into believing these bottles were authentic and once owned by the author of the US Declaration of Independence. And how reputations of those experts, Michael Broadbent chief among them, were tarnished irreparably. Yes, it's a fun read though the author sure seems to be bent on vengence for a crime or misdeed commited against the insufferably rich. I get the logistics. I failed to care too much about their plight. It's pathetic all around but the author doesn't come out smelling so good to me, what with his reveling in pinning the guilty with their guilt. One wonders how much fiction is in this work of nonfiction.

Nevertheless, I finished it and can't help reflecting on the odd confluence of characters and events that I first came across nearly 20 years ago as I somewhat spontaneously got into wine.

We all have our wine epiphany stories, right? Actually, I have several and they all come out depending on what feels right in the moment.

I got into wine because my family enjoyed wine, not much fancy though apparently my paternal grandfather enjoyed Chateauneuf du Pape. I grew up and, voila, I became interested.

So I grew up with wine.

No, I got into wine because, during a seminal visit to San Francisco in the mid-70s for a family reunion when I was but a wee lad, I accompanied several family members to go wine tasting. It was a fairly long drive. I remember little of where we went, but I did talk to an older cousin on the ride about her dream of trees that grew bubble gum. Or perhaps I remembered more than I give credit. Years later, visiting Napa (where we most certainly went), I entered the "new" barrel room at Inglenook (now Coppola) and the sight of hundreds of barrels stacked several high, and the unmistakable smell of wine soaked oak and perhaps even redwood, it all hit me like a ton of bricks. I remember that smell from that day, and I bet this was at least one of the stops we made. It actually looked familiar, and that's odd in my experience of returning to places I knew I'd been. They never look the same, and here was a place I never guessed I went but now believe I did.

That's a pretty good "wine's in my bones" story, no?

Well, I studied abroad in college in England and visited France extensively and studied for half a year in Austria and visited wineries in the latter two places, traveling and drinking wine in Italy and Germany as well. I went to St. Emilion and Tuscany and the Wachau and the Rheingau, all without being a wine geek. My time in Austria taught me about dry Austrian wine, though I don't recall hearing the words gruner veltliner, which I most certainly did hear, at some point anyway.

So I'm one of those "I got into it as an exchange student in Europe" people. They always sound insufferable, so let's skip that one.

Then there are my several siblings, among them two of my brothers, one close in age and another more than a decade ahead of me. Both had some interest in wine and encouraged me, upon my return from Europe, to try Napa cabernet from Steltzner, in the Stags Leap area. After graduating from college, on June 17, 1991, to be exact, I had dropped a girlfriend off at SF airport for her flight home and drove to that brother's house in Sacramento. He said I had to try this 1986 Steltzner Cabernet. I did and it was delicious. Aromatic, not doubt oak laden but flavorful and quite good. That wine made an impression. Of course, I proceeded to leave the next day on a solo cross country road trip in a '66 Ford Mustang convertible and let's just say I forgot all about wine for that whole summer.

So was that my wine epiphany? Maybe, but no, not really.

Then fall came and I fled my summer destination of Chicago for California again and I was flailing. I was a new graduate with an English degree and a year bumming around Europe sandwiched in there while my classmates at home seemed to get serious overnight, land internships while I was away and undoubtedly had fabulous jobs. Me? I headed for the Liquor Barn. I was of age. I had time though little money. I guess I had prior wine experiences to draw me in. But really fate brought me there.

And what did I find? Who knows what the wine was. But at the check out stand, I found...I'm ashamed to admit...um...Wine Spectator. Yes, my wine epiphany may indeed have involved Wine Spectator magazine. Many people could say the same, and really, I feign embarrasment. I'll own it. Here's this magazine devoted to wine and I grabbed it on an impulse and my life changed. Why?

Everything in The Billionaire's Vinegar, that's why. There was an article on Michael Broadbent, the head wine man at Christie's, with a picture of him biking to work on the streets of London. How cool was that? There was an article of a hundred year vertical tasting of Ch. Lafite, including a few bottles of the second wine Carraudes de Lafite and positive notes from both those bottles and minor vintages of the main wine overlooked by those with lots of cash but not a lot of taste. Impressions were immediate and they have stayed with me. It wasn't the point of the lifestyle magazine, but read that you could ride your bike to wine auctions and champion so-called off vintages that delivered the goods if not the high price tags and drooling of collector types.

And there was an article about so-called "super collector" Tawfiq Khoury, who merits some mention in the book as one of a club of international collectors in Rodenstock's circle, if only because of a shared interest in wine and appearance at flashy wine tasting events. Khoury seemed so down to earth to me in the interview despite his high profile. He loved wine. He obviously had and apparently still has boatloads of money. I recall him commenting that Ch. d'Yquem is a better investment than any CD account. Yet, I liked him in what I read. He had a photographic memory for the wines he tasted. I sort of wished I had the same.

That issue or one soon enough had yet another reference to the Jefferson bottles. That girlfriend from the airport gifted me Broadbent's New Great Vintage Wine Book for my next birthday, a book that is repeatedly mentioned in The Billionaire's Vinegar for having countless notes from questionable Rodenstock tastings and even a postscript discussing and defending the so-called Jefferson bottles. Dubious connections aside, I knew about Broadbent from Wine Spectator and I loved the history told in his tasting notes. I still have the book and read though it, a relic in my own library.

So reading The Billionaire's Vinegar wasn't so much of a revelation a tawdry story and its flawed characters; rather, a revisit with old acquaintances of a world I've never inhabited nor cared to, but found intriguing and oddly inspirational at the beginning of my wine journey. For that this book is worth reading and remarking upon. Perhaps your interest would be less personal, and though the new Great Domaines of Burgundy is something of much greater substance, I can't deny The Billionaire's Vinegar was a good read, indeed. ***Enjoy now.

Wow -- 2009 Evesham Wood Rose of Tempranillo Willamette Valley

2010-08-08T18:12:00.000-07:00

I have so many things to write about lately (and now little time to focus on writing). Along comes this unexpected delight and I'm compelled to interrupt a backyard session of rose and Remington Norman and Charles Taylor's 3rd edition of The Great Domaines of Burgundy to write.

Unexpected, because as much as I love Evesham Wood, and I love Evesham Wood, their rose has never really hit the spot for me. Still, I keep trying and thankfully I do. Tonight I opened their latest and last (from the Raneys) release of rose and I'm left thinking this is the best Willamette Valley rose I've ever tasted.

Yes. The best.

Of course I just tried my trusty rose-loving neighbor and she's not as crazy about it as I am. Be warned, this is my best, not necessarily yours. (And why shouldn't it be any different?)

In case you're wondering, this Willamette Valley tempranillo comes from the Illahe vineyard near Dallas, right near the very well known Freedom Hill vineyard in the foothills of the coast range. Illahe has lots of different (for our area) grape varities planted, tempranillo among them.

The color of this 2009 Evesham Wood Rose of Tempranillo is very, very pale copper. No iridescent pink or light red. Not even salmon. This is light. The fragrance is of good rose sparkling wine, with complex scents of strawberry and yeast and rocks, even chalk (which has no business being in a Willamette Valley wine).

In the mouth, this wine is vibrant, even energetic with strawberry, lychee and mineral flavors, refreshingly dry and clean with nerve and a long lingering finish.

My neighbor says it's a little sour. Me, I see the dryness as simultaneously thirst quenching and thirst inducing. This wine is so satisfying and yet you must have more.

Pardon me as I resume my reading about some 140 top Burgundian estates, their vineyard sites and viticultural and winemaking techniques. One might think great Burgundy is required for such reading. Me, I'm drinking great Willamette Valley.

Tasting by suggestion

2010-08-03T22:41:00.000-07:00

I've often read about how blind tasting is the only way to properly evaluate wine. I'm usually one of those who bring up context in such situations. Wine, like almost everything, is about context for me. It matters where a wine is from, even what it is or is supposed to be. Tasting wine blind ends up more about finding faults, which can be helpful to a winemaker. It can be fun for the wine lover to try. But really, it has little to do with real wine appreciation.

Tonight something else struck me. Just this morning I was reading about how people tend to smell or taste a wine descriptor when someone in the group finds it in their glass. We've all had that experience, in wine or anything else. It's the power of suggestion and it's usually met with eye rolling, as if we're cheating or noticing something that isn't there. Blind tasting must be silent, otherwise you'll get ideas in your head about things that aren't there, further ruining the objective evaluation of a wine.

I'm sorry to say I've always assumed that's right. Then tonight I was struggling with replacing what seemed like a simple part on our water heater. I'll be honest. I'm not really handy. I do, however, read well and I have pretty good comprehension skills. At least I think so. Mechanical diagrams are a blind spot. I stared at the drawings that came with the part and simply couldn't make sense of them. Enter my neighbor, an engineer and embarrassingly handy guy. He looked at the diagram and helped me understand it. Of course, we figured out I'll need a technician type to take care of the job right. But he essentially pointed out details in something I was evaluating, details I hadn't noticed or understood without his help.

Doesn't that happen a lot? I think it's called teaching and learning, and while wine isn't an objective thing like the diagram, what's wrong with noticing or understanding better a descriptive element in a wine after someone suggests it to us? It's not like it's made up. Some times people suggest things and I don't get it. So many other times people suggest things and they strike a true chord with me. That's real.

A few years ago, my dad was on the board of a start up bank and went through an interesting experience when they were working on logo design and shared part of it with me. He asked me if I'd ever seen the FedEx logo. Yes, of course. Had I seen the arrow? Huh? The arrow. Hmm. No, I'd never seen or noticed the arrow. But it's there. Check it out for yourself the next time a truck rolls by. As he often said, I ain't making it up, pally.

Vincent futures offer is out

2010-07-28T07:32:00.000-07:00

It's been great to see several élevage readers let me know over time that they wanted to get on my now official winery mailing list. This morning I sent out the first offering of our 2009 Vincent wines to the list. This is a futures offering for wines to be released this fall.

If you're interested but not already on our list, sign up here.

If not, no worries. This site is connected to our Vincent Wine Company winery but distinct. I'm still a wine geek who wants to write about wine. I'll periodically let you know about official stuff, but mostly this is here for geeking out.

Nocino Sunday

2010-07-20T19:59:00.000-07:00

This past Sunday I took the opportunity to make two gallon jugs of nocino. What's that? Nocino (no-CHEE-no) is a green walnut liqueur common to Italy and southern France. It's traditionally made at the end of June, when walnuts are still immature and easy to quarter. It's a late year here in the northern Willamette Valley, so the walnuts weren't ready at the usual time.

My friend and wine conspirator Anne Hubatch of Helioterra Wines and her husband Robert host a terrific nocino party at the end of each June. Last year, the event was written up in Portland's Mix Magazine complete with pictures of the whole affair, a basic recipe for nocino that I followed and notes about various attendees who do different things to produce their own unique liqueur. Even if you don't read the rest of this point, check out that article.

Nocino is simple and fun to make. I walked down the block and asked a neighbor who has a terrific old walnut in his front yard if I could harvest some nuts. He said sure, so I got my ladder and tree trimmer/lopper and went to work selecting the best ones I could find. No squirrel bites, minimal spots, like that. For two batches I needed sixty and it didn't take long to get those.

Then I came home and washed the walnuts in a colander. They should look like small limes, and you cut them husk and all into quarters to put into a gallon jug. I tested one out before harvest all the nuts and I noticed the cut edges browned quickly. I made a point to put the liquids into the jug before the cut up nuts so that they wouldn't oxidize before being part of the mixture. I'd read that the walnuts will stain your hands fiercely, so I wore gloves while cutting.

So what all goes into nocino? As you can see, white wine, everclear, lemon zest, cloves, cinnamon sticks and sugar. And walnuts, of course. However, on Anne's advice I substituted half of the everclear with vodka. We had some old Russian vodka in the freezer. Apparently quality of alcohol isn't a big deal, so I took the opportunity to buy the cheapest plastic bottle of vodka to supplement what I had.

Ok, into the gallon jugs went all the liquids and I began cutting up the walnuts, shoving them through the bottle neck and into the liquid. That took a bit of time because I was making two batches, the only difference being the amount of sugar I added. Some people say that nocino recipes often suggest too much sugar. What can I say? I have a sweet tooth and I'm not at all opposed to sweeter dessert wines like Aussie muscats and sweet Malmsey, provided of course there's balance. In this case, the tannin from the walnuts and the spices add some balancing bitterness, but who knows how this will turn out? So I made one batch with quite a bit of sugar, 1 kilo, and another batch with just 500g. Some people sweeten their nocino to taste at bottling, but I'm guessing it's better to do it all up front. We'll see what we get.

You see, the key with nocino, like Banyuls or Madeira, is that you intentionally oxidize the crap out of everything by leaving the not quite full jugs out in the sunlight and heat of summer for months. That process essentially caramelizes things, turning what might now seem like a bitter, green beverage into a deep brown, gingerbread and wonderful Christmas cake in a glass elixer. Come the fall, I'll strain the liquid into small bottles that will be ready to drink come the holidays but improve for a few years or more, if you can keep your hands off it. That's also what I made two batches, so I have some to give away, some to enjoy soon, and some to enjoy further on down the road. Based on the various vintages of nocino I've tasted from what Anne and Robert call their "cabinet of joy," I'm more than a little excited about how all this turns out.

Reflecting on Evesham Wood

2010-07-14T21:01:00.000-07:00

I was shocked but not necessarily surprised to read the news today of the sale Evesham Wood in Salem, OR. Russ and Mary Raney are headed to an early retirement, and Erin Nuccio and his wife Jordan of the Haden Fig label, made at Evesham Wood, are buying the property, including the house and winery and inventory. Russ will apparently stay on in a consulting role but the Raney's focus seems on changing the pace of life, including spending a few months each year in France. Man does that sound sweet. Russ and Mary have worked hard for years. They deserve this.

For me, this change marks a sweet passage of my own journey in wine and life. I've probably written about this before, but Evesham Wood was where I got my lucky start in Oregon winemaking. I had long enjoyed Evesham Wood Pinot noir, their fragrance, their subtlty and finesse. After a serious come-to-Jesus moment in my life late in 2004, I knew I had to get serious about my own interest in winemaking. I had to work harvest. I had to find somewhere that would ground me in the right way to make Oregon Pinot. I had to somehow convince Russ Raney that a lightly experienced stranger should help him out with the 2005 harvest.

Along came an ice-storm in the winter of '05. I was trapped at home. From the televised shots of empty freeways all over the northern Willamette Valley, I figured maybe Russ Raney was trapped at home too. So I called, and sure enough he picked up. I gently plead my case, he said I might be in luck because some Germans who were lined up to work harvest might have to back out. Sure enough, I got the nod.

That fall my term was fairly brief, only about four weeks, but I learned a ton, about what to do but especially what not to do. Russ didn't fuss too much with things. He was remarkably calm even as the weather turned from beautiful to torrential rain. Our methods in the small cellar were simple, if labor intensive. Grapes in small yellow tubs (FYBs) tossed by hand onto the sorting line, or pitchforked by hand from larger picking bins. The old Willmes press hand loaded with buckets. Meals were upstairs in the dining room of the family home. The fridge covered in their child's art or the lector schedule for church. Out in the shed were bins of unlabeled bottles, France style, labeled as necessary when orders came in. Perhaps the only fancy thing I saw was a European tractor that I figured would get laughs at a grain farmers' meeting, like an Alfa next to rows of king cab pick ups trucks.

My first day was in August, weeks before harvest, essentially a try out to see if I was going to work out. We were racking barrels for the 2004 Willamette Valley Pinot and at the end of the day Russ went out to the shed and got a bottle of 1999 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Seven Springs Vineyard, perhaps my favorite site in all of Oregon Pinot and from that moment a special bottle for me, something I'd drink at some special time to be determined.

So what does that picture up top have to do with any of this? That's me and my late father, two words that still hurt to write and probably always will. My dad loved wine and though he always said he never had that great a palate for the "good stuff," he liked my interest in wine and winemaking and always remarked how he drank well whenever he and mom would come to town. I think of dinners here at home with Evesham Wood wine, and one particuarly nice evening at Castagna with a couple of bottles of '02 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Le Puits Sec, the estate vineyard bottling.

And the evening of this picture from 2008, my 39th birthday and the 39th anniversay of my dad's 39th birthday. We are the Once de Mayo gang, both born on Mother's Day, May 11, he in 1930, me in 1969. Dad always joked that he gave me his birthday, a la Steve Allen, so that he always turned "39 again this year" all those years of my life. As the calendar would have it, Mother's Day again fell on May 11 in 2008, my 39th, the day I'd finally catch up to him. Sadly, we'd received the awful news about cancer a month prior, but he and mom made the trip to Portland as planned. My eldest brother even flew up just for this evening, to celebrate birthdays and Mother's Day with us all. We went to Nostrana and out came that bottle of 1999 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Seven Springs Vineyard. What a better and more appropriate time to drink it, and damn it was good, so good like that whole weekend and all those memories.

Those smiles we share in the photo suggest many things, but one of them was certainly satisfaction with Russ and Mary Raney's work, in the year of 1999 and all the years they've grown grapes and made wine here in Oregon. Thanks to them both. My life and memories wouldn't be nearly as rich without them and Evesham Wood.

Continuing adventures...

2010-07-09T21:48:00.000-07:00

My head's spinning from everything that's going on in my wine world these days. I have a page long to do list for Vincent Wine Company tasks that's a little intimidating in scope but kind of cool because this is exactly what I want to be spending time on. Pardon me as I process out loud, so to speak.

First and least fun, I got through all the licensing paperwork for the city of Portland, the state of Oregon and the feds. Now I'm renewing my LLC, filing quarterly payroll reports even though I have no payroll, and dealing with something that came in the mail about monthly tax of some kind or another. I'll figure that one out soon enough. Don't get into making and selling wine if you think it's all fun. In some weird way, I'm still enjoying anything that's contributing to moving forward in this project. That will fade I'm sure, but for now it's all good.

Really, my issues start with bottling the 2009 wines later this summer. We're designing labels, which are done but I'm still waiting for web ready jpegs to share with you all. Then there are the printer bids for the labels, the bottle suppliers, cork suppliers, capsule suppliers, the data for the labels themselves, and plans to do final blends for the two bottlings I'm planning. Most of the 2009 wine will be an Eola-Amity Hills AVA blend of Pinot Noir, with a single barrel of Zenith Vineyard Pinot Noir serving as the "reserve" level wine. I'll do a blending trial with friends next week to taste through all the barrels critically and really see what we have. I don't expect any surprises, but it's still a good exercise to go through. Then we'll blend, run the final alcohols and pH for the wines and see how the sulfur dioxide levels are. By the end of August everything will be in barrel.

People always say it's a lot easier to make wine than sell it. So I also have a ton of things to do to get the word out about these wines. We're working on a banner graphic for a new website for Vincent Wine Company, which I'll announce as soon as I can. That banner will also go into an email template, which we'll use to send out a futures offering on the 2009s later this month. Get on the email list to get in on the special pricing with that offer. Email me at vincentwines[at]gmail[dot]com. I'll also be setting up a Facebook page with that banner graphic, so once we have the banner (soon, right?), lots will be happening. For email, we'll use MailChimp, which seems pretty low key and downright cheap.

But enough about 2009, that's so last year. What about 2010? There's weather to worry about, winemaking supplies to get and harvest plans to make. Oh my gosh, the weather's been crazy this year. We had a very early start to the growing season with mild winter weather and budbreak at the end of March into early April. That's a couple weeks early or more. Then spring, one of the coldest and wettest on record. From two weeks early, we're now maybe three weeks behind on flowering. That usually happens in mid-June. The pinot vines locally are still finishing up flowering here on July 9. With 100 days or more from flowering until harvest, we'll need nice October weather to have everything go well. No need to clear the schedule much in September. We won't be picking too early. Of course, later harvests like 2008 and 1999 can make for excellent quality. We'll need to get lucky and have the usual October rains hold off, for the most part anyway.

Still, I'm in high gear getting ready for harvest. There are barrels to buy, barrel racks to buy, fermenting bins if I can find a good deal, and whatever else I'll need for harvest. There's also the good advice to make a fermentation plan. Even if you don't plan to do to much when making your wine, it's good to map out what you think or hope will happen, so at least you know when you're totally winging it. Things can get crazy at harvest, and minds can wander. With that in mind, I find I need to get mentally ready, whatever that really means. Basically, I try to go into harvest with a clear mind and normal heart rate. There's so much you can't control and my goal is to not control things so much. So I focus more on controlling myself and seeing if the grapes can do their thing. Call that marketing bullshit if you want. It's really how I approach all this.

That's not everything, but I'll spare you the rest. Indeed, this is all great. I'm so excited about this project. It's just a little crazy, just a little bit crazy. That's the way I like it.

PDXploration on Seven of Hearts|Luminous Hills & Honest Chocolates

2010-07-05T21:12:00.000-07:00

Just a quick post to say how much I enjoyed PDXploration's write up of Seven of Hearts|Luminous Hills as well as Honest Chocolates. Both get detailed reviews. Both get gorgeous photo collages. I've written it before, but you really need to seek out Byron and Dana at their place in Carlton. Great wines, great chocolate. Great job PDXploration as well. While you're there, check out the Olympic Provisions piece, among others. Love this blog.

Racking the 2009s

2010-06-28T20:44:00.000-07:00

Here is a picture of the my nine barrels of 2009 Vincent pinot noir, getting racked at the winery in Portland. For those not clear on racking, that's the process of moving the wine from barrel to barrel to separate it from its sediment. It's also a nice chance to areate the wine a bit, which can help round out the flavors and texture. Too much areation and your wine will tastes oxidized. Too little and it can be a little "reduced" or stinky. This is the only racking before bottling, pretty traditional and useful especially for unfiltered wine.

The process is pretty simple but time consuming. Using inert gas like nitrogen or argon, you use gentle pressure to push the wine out of one barrel through a hose to an empty barrel. Since barrels are in pairs on barrel racks, you rack two barrels in to empties, clean the emptied barrels, then rack two more barrels into those clean ones. And so on. If you don't start with two empty, clean barrels to rack into, you can fill two small tanks. Then at the end, you pump that wine back into the final two barrels once they've been cleaned. Like most winemaking tasks, it's really mostly about cleaning. Cleaning beforehand, working and cleaning things as you go, then cleaning everything again. Mom would be proud.

All this work is in preparation for bottling at the end of August. At that time, we'll rack the barrels again into two tanks. One for the main Eola-Amity Hills bottling, which will be most of the production. The other for the Zenith single vineyard bottling, just 24 cases.

How are the wines tasting? You don't have to believe me, how can I be objective, right? But the wines taste really good. I'm excited for the freshness in the wines, something you don't always get from hotter growing seasons like 2009. All the barrels smell and taste good. A friend tried the Zenith and commented on the savoriness. That's exactly what I'm going for. No candy sweet flavors here.

élevage and 32 Days of Natural Wine

2010-06-26T12:12:00.000-07:00

My contribution on natural wine is the feature of Day 8 of Saignee's 32 Days of Natural Wine. To me, natural wine is all about your intention to make something that reflects the grape, the place and the season without any improvements.

A field trip to reWine Barrels in Salem

2010-06-24T23:06:00.000-07:00

Anne Hubatch of Helioterra and I took a field trip recently to reWine Barrels in Salem, OR. What an interesting visit. reWine is the barrel refurbishing business of father-in-law and master woodworker Todd Dollinger and son-in-law Trent Thomas, a former New Seasons wine buyer among other wine industry experience.

I bought a rehabbed barrel from reWine for the 2009 harvest and I'm buying another one for 2010. I like the idea of recycling barrels. As Todd says emphatically, it doesn't make sense to cut down seriously old French oak trees to make barrels that you use for a few years and turn into planters. Renewing those barrels makes sense. Plus, I like the results I've seen. And the cost doesn't hurt. Rehabbed barrels aren't the same as new barrels, but they're pretty close and cost only a fraction of new wood.

The reWine truck, usually full of barrels for delivery all over the Willamette Valley, just back from another drop.

Inside the workshop are barrels in various stages of rehabilitation.

Todd animatedly shows off his self-made barrel shaving machine.

A barrel is loaded on sideways and gently and fairly quietly shaved, back and forth across the grain with the barrel rotating slightly with each pass.

Trent hams it up near the shaver. This machine saves lives and limbs, as early experiments with handshaving were a bit perilous.

Barrels before shaving.

Barrels after shaving.

As you might expect, there's hand shaving to touch up what the machine doesn't quite get.

Barrel heads are also resized to fit snug with the slightly reduced dimensions of the shaved and ultimately retoasted barrel.

Here's my 2005 Siruge barrel from my last homemade wine that's ready for toasting.

Here's a look inside. The electrical element will slowly heat things up to more than 400F over 2 or more hours for a light toast. I'm interested to see how a more subtle toast will react with local Pinot noir. Most barrels out there are medium to heavy toast. Over time, we check in on this barrel as it slowly colors and gains amazing smells of, well, toasty oak.

Here's a barrel that's nearly done with a medium toast. I forgot to get pictures of my barrel as it finished up. Looks and smells good.

Once they're toasted and reassembled, the refurbished barrels are filled with water to soak up. You can imagine the lengthy toasting process dries out the staves pretty good. Once they're water tight, they are drained, gassed with sulfur and wrapped for delivery.

Todd and Trent talked a lot about the process and how they got started in 2009 combining Todd's knowledge of wood and machinery and Trent's experience with the wine industry. We talked about other barrel refurbishers out there who crank out more barrels per day and apparently don't spend nearly the time reWine does in toasting like a new barrel cooper does. reWine's trying to do things differently.

This operation is obviously still very new but already it's impressive to see several local producers buying the product, or bringing their own barrels to get rehabbed like I did this time with my Siruge. It's a bit less expensive to do that. What impresses me most is the wholehearted commitment of Todd and Trent to their work. Todd's fanatic about the process. Trent's all about building long term relationships and making sure reWine is doing everything right to produce excellent barrels. These are people I'm glad to know and do business with. I can't recommend them highly enough. Thanks guys for the great visit.

2007 La Gramiere rouge

2010-06-21T20:09:00.000-07:00

Sometimes wine isn't a simple "like it" or "don't like it" proposition. Sometimes wines perplex, engage, delight, all at once, leaving you satisfied but uncertain how or why. For example, the 2007 La Gramiere rouge, one of the "natural" wines we're hearing so much about (in part thanks to Cory Cartwright's 32 Days of Natural Wine over at Saignee, now in Day 3).

This Vin de Table could be Cotes du Rhone Villages, a blend of 80% grenache, 15% syrah and 5% mourvedre from Americans Amy Lillard and David Kling, who moved to France years back and farm a vineyard in the southern Rhone valley. Their blog, La Gramiere, is a nice read with archives detailing the hard work they've endured to this point.

On the site, there's a tasting note for this wine that reads remarkably similar to my experience, mostly. Fruit driven, blackberry and boysenberry flavors, lush, with licorice and spice notes, and firm tannin that gives nice texture. This is delicious southern Rhone red, with so much energy it seems to glow an electric purple. Yet there are reductive notes, stinky vegetal aromas that come and go, never dominating but everpresent. These seem to vanish with a plate of broiled steak and steamed new potatoes, then reappear after the meal. For a while I smelled acetate (nail polish remover), then that seemed to melt into cinnamon notes, then occasionally a touch of acetate reappeared.

On balance, I really enjoyed this wine but am perplexed. This is a wine shape shifter, at once a lush crowd pleasing red, then difficult even wild, requiring patience, good food matches and intellect to seek out what the wine offers, not make snap judgements. If that sounds like a wine for you, and it most certainly does to me, have at it. Plus, I love the old world meets new wine label, especially the striking green that you see only rarely on wine bottles. Beautiful. (Note: image borrowed from La Gramiere)

1995 Ch. Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape

2010-06-19T22:23:00.000-07:00

When we moved to Portland ten years ago next month, I brought with us several cases of wine. I'd been collecting bottles throughout the 1990s and just finished working for a Berkeley-based wine importer and retailer. In that position, I took advantage of the significant employee discount to stock the wine larder. "We won't get a chance like this again," I persuaded my wife. I bought a significant amount of wine, at least at the time. I wasn't making wine yet, you know.

Then came the great move north, with baby, cat and life's belongings. That meant engaging a moving company for all the big stuff and renting an air conditioned minivan to drive the family (baby) in cool comfort. And of course, the several boxes of wine. Meanwhile, Anthony the cat and I sweated it out driving our old VW in caravan with the rental. We thought we had A/C in that old heap, but it just turned out that San Francisco air was so naturally cool that we never noticed the A/C didn't really work.

Here in Portland, I still store my wine in the cellar in cardboard boxes, bottles upside down and close to the concrete floor to maximize cooling. There's no air conditioning in the house, but the cellar keeps pretty cool in all but the worst heat waves. I've worried about the wine collection, which I've continued adding to, evidence that we had, in fact, plenty of fine opportunities to buy wine. Then I try older bottles and they're great, and I don't worry so much. What do they say about cellar in Bordeaux rising slowly in the summer to the upper 60s farenheit (maybe higher)? Wine's fragile but not that fragile.

Of course, I've also had some cellar disappointments. Was that only because of my cellar conditions? Probably not. I know people with fancy, temperature controlled cellars who have off bottles. The one thing I've noticed is that I don't want to cellar half bottles all that long. Recently a half bottle of '96 Ch. d'Epire Savennieres was shot. That was nice wine in its youth and really shouldn't have had a problem making it to 14 years. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was my cellar. Maybe it was the half bottle format.

That d'Epire was the last "original" bottle I'd opened, before tonight. I'm down to about 2 cases of originals, those bottles hauled up here 10 years ago. What's left is a mix of 1980s and 1990s Bordeaux, Port, and Rhones, for the most part. That's what I was mostly into back then. Since then, I've gotten more into German, Italian (especially) and Oregon wine. I have old bottles of all those, but they were all procured since the move.

What did I drink tonight? A lone half of the 1995 Ch. Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape. I'd waited on this wine for so long because reports suggested it was highly tannic and needing time. Now at the 10 year mark in Portland, I'm thinking about those older bottles I still have and wondering if they really ought to be opened sooner than later. One, because I don't have a pristine cellar. But two, what the hell, it's been ten freaking years. What am I waiting for at this point?

The Beaucastel only reinforces this thought. The wine is mature, at least out of half bottle. Slightly oxidized upon pouring, it got more youthful in the glass, revealing a lovely mix of peppery cherry fruit and mushroomy, bottle sweet, earthy aromas. No brett here that I could find, no barnyardy or band aid notes. The wine is indeed tannic, and I'm sure this bottle would have dried out before the tannin resolved. Perhaps larger, slower aging bottles in colder cellars will live a lot longer. This bottle was delicious, with a great burst of flavor in the middle palate and a long finish. There's something difficult to describe but clearly obvious in a really good wine. This one had that quality. Enough words. Go try it for yourself, even if you have to wait a decade for it.

Armstrong Vineyard, Part 3: June

2010-06-15T23:03:00.000-07:00

For reports earlier in the growing season, see here and here.

I got out to Armstrong Vineyard again the other day to check on things. Remember that this new vineyard will be the primary source for Vincent Wine Company grapes in 2010. Young vines can produce excellent wine.

Despite our very cool and wet spring, things continue to look really good on Ribbon Ridge.

The canopy is tall with lots of healthy shoots, no signs of disease and lots of promise for the summer ahead.

Of course, no flowering yet. We got off to an early start with bud break at the beginning of April, a couple of weeks early. At mid-June we should be in flowering, but no sign of that yet. Just infloresence.

The dry weather recently gave a good opportunity to see about drainage in the vineyard. What parts have dried out? Where is there still water and mud? Here's a shot of the bottom of the 667 block, near the road and still draining water while the vineyard top was largely dried out.

Today's been cold and rainy again in Portland.

Will we ever get good weather to push the flowers to open? Will there be hail to knock off lots of those flowers before they can set as fruit? Stay tuned. For now, things look awfully good.

400th post

2010-06-11T14:52:00.000-07:00

Yes, I changed the template again. No, it's not in honor of this being the 400th post in the 5+ years of this blog. But since you mention it, yes, 400 posts. Glad Blogger finally got some fresh(er) templates to choose from, btw.

Thinking about natural wine

2010-06-08T21:56:00.000-07:00

I'm thinking about "natural" wine in preparation for writing a piece for Saignee's 32 Days of Natural Wine, which starts later this month. I struggle with what natural wine really is. Grape growing isn't very natural, at least with all the row planting, pruning, etc. Winemaking's even worse. Even a hands off approach requires lots of work or intervention. You still punch down or at least tread the frementing must. You separate the new wine and press the skins to get the rest. You might use sulfur dioxide. You store in vessels of one kind or another. You package it somehow. And that's the bare minimum.

Even most "natural" wine producers do more, in the name of producing something that tastes authentic to the grape, the place, the season. I guess that's really what natural wine is all about. I like Joe Dressner's quote from last year's 31 Days of Natural Wine. He wrote:

"What exactly is a natural wine? For me, it’s a wine that tastes like it fell off the vine and into a bottle, fermented, packed its bags and arrived in America."

But there it is - "and arrived in America." Why is it so much natural wine I read about on the internet is from Europe? Sure, there are lots more producers doing close to the earth stuff over there. But how natural is it to ship the thousands of miles here, presumably not on biodiesel or solar powered freighters, in reuasble packaging with a minimal carbon footprint? Not to mention their usual fragile state, with little or no sulfur dioxide that requires careful handling. Do these natural wines really travel well? Is it the point? Or does enough of the goodness in close to the earth wine production erode in transit, leaving a natural wine denatured?

Ok, no, not entirely. Natural wine can move. But what I want to write about is my passion. City wine. Natural, local city wine that I want to see happening in a much bigger way in Portland, Oregon. It's a movement for local, unpretentious wines that haven't traveled far, from producers who grow local grapes or who work with local growers to produce wines in the city (that latter more my model). To produce something here that tastes like it fell off the vine into a wine growler and didn't travel much further than my bike ride home from the city winery in my neighborhood, my winery or my neighbor's winery or any old body's winery. That's my natural wine dream. Is that crazy?

New releases from Arterberry Maresh

2010-06-03T22:53:00.000-07:00

I had the chance to taste through a bunch of new releases from Arterberry Maresh last night. Young Jim is making some excellent wines, all pinot noir and chardonnay from the Dundee Hills. Jim's brash and talks some shit, but his wines speak for themselves. I can't help but admire his confidence that what he's doing is absolutely great. I suppose if you don't believe it, who will? You don't make this hat if you're not confident, right? Yeah, my new favorite hat.

We started with the 2008 Arterberry Maresh Chardonnay Maresh Vineyard. Old vine 108 clone, harvest late, this bottling from a single Dargaud & Jagele light toast barrel that took more than a year to finish fermenting. Maybe there's a little sugar leftover, maybe not, there's fat flavor but the acid balance and freshness is terrific. With lots of lemon, sweet cream and hazelnuts, it's white Burg on the nose but broad tasting Oregon chard on the palate. Bottled unfined and unfiltered, it's a little hazy too. Really, really good.

Then the 2007 Arterberry Maresh Pinot Noit Gherts Vineyard, actually a single barrel of purchased wine from another producer who didn't think it fit the profile they were looking for. Apparently from grapes picked before the rain, the wine has deep color uncommon in 2007. There's a little musky, hard to pin down something in the aroma, but I love this. Lots of ripe fruit, subtle wood, full flavors in the mouth but really nicely refined and long. While I think many '07s are beautiful, they can also be delicate and I wonder about how long they really need to be cellared. This one, though, could last a while and maybe should sleep for a few before it shows its best.

Then onto 2008 reds. First, the 2008 Arterberry Maresh Pinot Noir Dundee Hills, Jim's $25 cuvee that's tremendous value. Most wineries would like this at their high end level. Fragrant, silky but also wound up and needing time to reveal itself, I really liked this. Then the 2008 Arterberry Maresh Pinot Noir Julliard Vineyard, down Worden Hill Road from Maresh vineyard and indeed a world away from the higher vineyard's pure red fruit tone. This has bass notes with a darker fruit profile and really tight structure. Right now, it's a little challenging to drink. But in time this will stun.

Jim and I hung out with some others talking wine and winemaking. Ji'm vocal about barreling wine more than a year, not for the oak profile but the curing aspect of barrel aging. Wines gain an intensity and vinosity from extended aging, perhaps even a savory quality. Some people like bottling early to preserve fruitiness. Some do it to get wine to market more quickly. Some early bottled wines are superb, so it's not like you have to wait. But Jim's wines, like those of the producers who mentored him, show what longer aging can give you. Assuming the source material is really good, of course. We weren't all born on Worden Hill Road, but Jim was and the place is in his wines.

1998 Prieuré St. Jean de Bebian Coteaux du Languedoc

2010-05-30T21:32:00.000-07:00

I've mentioned on Twitter how I've opened a few bottles from the cellar this weekend that were over the hill. One I'd bought years ago, a half bottle of '96 Chateau d'Epire Savennieres, so long ago it came from the original Berkeley Bowl before the move from the (in fact) converted bowling alley to its now decade-plus conventional home. Others included Winebid purchases that will go unmentioned. Let's just say that I've had some amazing successes buying at online auction. These weren't those.

However, I'm confident in my passive wine cellar. Here's the 1998 Prieuré St. Jean de Bebian Coteaux du Languedoc, gorgeous after nearly a decade in my unheated, uncooled Portland basement. This wine has a story for me however.

Bebian was the wine I mentioned so innocently online about a decade ago, while I worked for the importer. We'd discounted the $30 price to $10 in the shop with the 1997 vintage. We were up front that the quality wasn't as good as usual. That's the nature of vintage wine. It's not always the same in profile or quality. Surely a $10 price suggested as much. Yet I was unwise enough to mention that price cut on the internets, bringing down the wrath of the owner who said they didn't want the price published. Ah, the days before the internet was understood. This was public information, but not that public. I was kind of pissed off then, and confused. Now I understand, but the whole thing still seems futile. It wasn't like the internet wasn't around in 2000. Word got out about things, even then. But I digress.

Prieuré St. Jean de Bebian Coteaux du Languedoc is a southern France property planted to the thirteen varieties of Chateauneuf du Pape, the grenache, syrah and mourvedre most of us know along with so many other varieites for red and white wine. The grenache cuttings apparently come from Rayas, the syrah from Chave, the mourvedre from Tempier in Bandol, recent syrah plantings from Beaucastel. This is a serious property, for sure.

I was introduced to the property by my friend Paul P. who brought an older bottling to a dinner in San Francisco many years ago. That wine, vintage forgotten, seemed red fruited and Chateauneuf-like. Since then, my experiences with the producer have been about darker fruits and a profile as if Chateauneuf were from the northern Rhone. More focused, pure and defined than that behemoth southern Rhone wine often is.

This 1998 follows that pattern. I wouldn't guess this to be either southern Rhone (typically grenache-based) or northern Rhone (typically syrah). Rather, it's southern France, the Languedoc or Midi. Just highly nuanced and unusual for this region that still produces mostly common wines along with the occasional glossy, too big for its britches beverage. No, this is deep, dark, rich but restrained, focused and intense like few Languedoc reds ever are. It's clean too. No need for rogue yeast to provide earthy qualities here. And the iodine, near to the sea quality of the Languedoc isn't overdone, where you think you're drinking olive brine with the smoke of burning rosemary branches.

This '08 Bebian is all about an aromatic balance of ripe fruit, warm stones, olives, brushy herbs like rosemary and sage, and sea air. Upon first opening, there was a distinct ash note that I find in many Oregon pinot noirs. People sometimes refer to "Oregon garrigue" when noting local wines, and that must be what they're finding. Here we're talking about the real thing, southern French herb and soil scents that provide such a nice savory quality to the sweet ripeness of the wine. In the mouth, this wine is still finely tannic though more approachable than it was younger. I like way the drying tannin balances the sweet fruit of the wine, especially with grilled lamb at dinner where the meat brought out the wine's fruitiness.

As a whole, this is beautiful wine. Aging wonderfully. Full of promise with a few more years of cellar time, as the tannins continue to soften and the sweetness of age emerges. This is why we cellar wine, no matter the occasional disappointments. And let's just say, this isn't the 1997. This is really, really good.

Vincent garage tasting, a pictorial

2010-05-27T22:17:00.000-07:00

Four incredibly busy days later, I'm still reflecting the glow of last Sunday's Vincent garage tasting. It marked the end of home winemaking. I'm happy to announce that just today I received final approval for the Vincent Wine Company winery license. It seems fitting to finish the garage project in pictures like memories.

The 2008 Vincent Pinot Noir, Zenith Vineyard.

Me pouring for wine conspirator and friend, Anne Hubatch.

Translucent Vincent Pinot noir.

Garage scene.

Home cured pork from Portland Charcuterie Project.

Lonzino from PCP. Oh my god.

PCP pickles on our Bauer plate.

A wine garage, but still a garage.

Jennifer prettied the place up with Gerber daisies.

Last of the homemade wine.

Credits:

Thanks to everyone who came.

Big thanks to Todd Merkel of Portland Charcuterie Project for the delicious home cured meats and pickles. Todd's doing incredible work for the love of food.

And thanks especially to Joshua Chang of PDXploration for the gorgeous photography and permission to use his work here on élevage .

Armstrong vineyard update 2

2010-05-25T22:20:00.000-07:00

In the aftermath of the Garage Tasting, I blew off my real job and hung out with friends from Seattle who came down for the shindig. Then I shipped some wine to various people and took advantage of the drive down to Yamhill county to visit Ribbon Ridge and the Armstrong vineyard. This new planting will be my primary source for grapes in 2010 and beyond. I'm really excited, so I took some more pictures (earlier post here).

The spring weather here in western Oregon is still rotten. We had some nice days around my birthday earlier in the month, thank heavens. My mother was visiting and I was so glad she was able to enjoy the incredible flowers all over Portland in bright but still mild sunshine. Since then we're back to constnt gray and serious (for this time of year, anyway) cold. Would you believe highs in the low 50s for a few days? Indeed, the heat made an encore performance. I'm hoping it's off again until we fight the urge come October.

Nevertheless, the vineyard looks great. Young vines are vigorous so there was much more growth here than comparable sites I saw driving around the Chehalem Mountains and Dundee Hills with older vines. Hail has been frequent this spring but there's little hail damage. My hydrangeas look terrible, but the vines seem unaffected. Check out those leaves and primordial grape clusters. This still young vineyard has waited three long years to produce fruit. We're just about there.

Since my last visit, the cover crop in the rows has been plowed under. Even with all the rain, the soil here drains pretty well so mud wasn't an issue. You can see nice consistent growth in this block of pinot vines, all 115 clone on the southern end of the vineyard looking uphill to the north. If you look closely you can see the mostly vertical shoots growing up between the trellis wires. Those that stray get put into place. All in all, things look terrific at Armstrong. I'll be back again and again charting the parogress of the season, getting to know the vines and vineyard before seeing the fruit in the winery.

On the way home, I headed over Worden Hill Road through the heart of the Dundee Hills. This is where is all began for Oregon pinot back in the '60s and '70s. Here's a bad shot from the car down Worden Hill from Maresh. Le Pavillon and Prince Hill on the left, Winderlea on the right.

Down the road I stopped like a tourist to take his shot looking due south from Winderlea to the west facing slope of Weber above and the lower part of the Arcus bowl around the pond and first clump of trees. They don't call these parts the Red Hills of Dundee for nothing. And even with the lousy weather, the sky is mesmerizing.

Garage tasting aftermath, part 1

2010-05-24T20:47:00.000-07:00

Wow. Our 3rd annual garage wine tasting yesterday was the biggest and best yet. Sixty to 70 adults, maybe more. I stopped counting after Jennifer and I washed dozens of the used wine glasses as newcomers kept arriving. I had 36 to start with but that clearly wasn't enough. Lots of kids too, which is always great. My own kids have helped punch down, press and bottle my homemade wines, so of course we like kids around. I'll post a complete review of the event, along with excellent pictures from PDXploration that you can see in collage by clicking that link.

For now, my own shot of a 4-year old Martin pressing the 2007 Vincent Pinot Noir Meredith Mitchell Vineyard on the driveway nearly three years ago. He was really into it, and while I won't let him operate the mechanical press at the winery for a long time, it might come sooner than I think. This is what it's all about.

Garage tasting - last call

2010-05-21T21:51:00.000-07:00

The Vincent Garage Wine Tasting this Sunday is almost upon us. To recap, I'm pouring my final homemade wine, my 2008 Vincent Pinot Noir Zenith Vineyard. Then we'll try some barrel samples of 2009s that will be bottled and released later this year. And I'll pour some older homemade wines to check in on them, plus some bubbly and maybe something else. We'll see how things go.

Right now, there are about 60 people confirmed, including several élevage readers whom I'm looking forward to meeting. We'll have at least one retailer, a few winemakers, at least one vineyard owner, the graphic designer who's working on my label, homemade charcuterie from a local blogger and élevage reader, and a whole bunch of friends, aquaintences, kids and who knows who else. One thing is clear - this final garage tasting will be the biggest yet and I'm sure the most fun. We even have past attendees coming from Seattle because they don't want to miss it. That's crazy, but definitely good crazy.

If you're interested, email me at vincent . fritzsche [at] gmail . com. Of course take out the spaces and put in the @. I've give you the address. When you get here, we'll be up the driveway in and around the garage. I'll be out there from noon to 5pm. See you there.