Harvest is in full swing here in the northern Willamette Valley under summer-like weather, with producers scrambling to pick fruit before sugar levels soar any higher.
The past summer was among the warmest on record locally, with nearly a record number of 90F+ days in Portland (21) and below average rainfall for each of the past four months. The stats remind me of 2003, a notoriously hot year that produced hot wines (high alcohol). So far, what I’ve seen harvested looks pretty ripe for our area, but it’s early still and we’ll see how things turn out.
We had a brief cool down with light rain a couple weeks back, and at the time I thought maybe fall was here for good. I was even worried because fruit was nearly ripe, but not quite there and needing more 70F+ weather to progess. But temperatures locally rebounded with consistent mid-80F readings every day for the past week. Fruit that was coming along nicely early in September, then stalled during the cool period, has taken off with the renewed heat.
Now the harvest is surging as lower elevation vineyards and younger vines are, in some cases, more than ready. Higher sites and older vines that typcially mature a bit later are hanging on in the hopes even better flavors can develop in the fruit without sugar levels soaring, leading to high alcohol wines or manipulations in the cellars to produce balanced wines.
This year, I’m sharing a harvest internship at one producer, working every third day and glad for the breaks between shifts. Working the crush is hard work (huge understatement). I’m also planning to help out when I can with another producer whose wine I discovered earlier this year. I don’t like to name drop about where I work, but you can read about these and other producers in previous posts. I’ll get around to naming names after harvest is done. For what it’s worth, I choose to work with producers I like. I want to learn from people whose wines I respect. So when I continue to write about these producers, especially if I write favorably, it’s not because I worked there. I worked there because I like the wines.
All that said, I’m also getting my own Pinot noir from the Wahle vineyard in the Yamhill-Carlton district. Between my fulltime job, my family, my part-time harvest internship, and helping out elsewhere, I’m too busy to get my own fruit before this coming next Tuesday. Some grapes from Wahle are being picked for commercial wineries yesterday and today. I can only hope the old vines at Wahle can hold up for a few more days. I’m nervous that the fruit that was just about ripe a few days ago will come in overripe. But we’re expecting a cool down again, and I’ll get a mix of clones with one particular clone later ripening and frankly needing the extra time (in a perfect world, I’d skip it entirely but I don’t have that choice if I want Wahle fruit). So we’ll see how it turns out.
One of the many things I’m learning is that you can’t always get the fruit exactly when you might want, for almost every reason you can imagine. Life gets in the way, other fruit gets in the way, pickers aren’t available, the weather turns either too hot or too wet before you can harvest. Even when you get the fruit exactly when you want, when it should be perfect, it can be different than you expected, either not quite so ripe or a bit too ripe. You’ll hear from some people that really good producers don’t have these problems, but that ain’t true. It’s just the way things are. I’ve seen it every time I’ve worked in a winery, three different years now.
Meanwhile, I bottled last year’s Pinot noir recently and I must say...it’s not bad. I’m hopeful that this year’s ferment can be more vigorous to extract more color and flavor out of what will undoubtedly be riper fruit. And I’m hoping that all the good things about last year’s wine and experience will carry over to this year, so I’ll produce healthy, sound wine again but from better raw materials. Get that right and I should have a pretty nice wine on my hands. No pun intended.
A tasting note for harvest? NV Widmer Hefeweizen, fresh and cold from the bottle while watching the sun set over the coast range after a long hard day of harvest work. One word: perfect. Only it turns out this wasn’t an end of the day beer, just a beer break beer. There was and always is more work to do on the crushpad. So back to work for me.
More soon.
September 29, 2006
September 20, 2006
The Shadow knows
The latest syrah from Edmunds St. John is out, and besides being a screaming deal there is a story.
Edmunds St. John is one of the best producers of California syrah out there. I’d call them the best, but I don’t try enough others to really know. California syrah usually isn’t my thing. So rich, so ripe, so purple, so intense! Often too intense, even the better ones.
But Edmunds St. John wines are different, and to my taste better. They’re aromatically complex without oakiness, and they taste long and subtle on the palate like a French wine despite their California ripeness. Rarely are the wines heavy, though sometimes they can be a bit lean. But always they are authentic and unique, the kind of wines that slake your thirst but keep you coming back for more.
Alas, this is not what the market wants. Winemaker Steve Edmunds writes a terrific newsletter, and recently he’s opened up about the struggles a wine producer can face when critical attention turning elsewhere coincides with plans for growth.
Of course, the wines are as good as ever, perhaps better. And the prices, while not as low as they used to be (whose are?), are more than reasonable. This is handmade wine.
And now we have The Shadow, 2002 California Syrah that Steve held in tank for a variety of reasons until this year. Normally he would release single vineyard Syrah from many of these vineyards – Bassetti, Wylie, Fenaughty, Durell, and Parmelee-Hill – as well as a California bottling from the leftovers. In 2002, it’s all in The Shadow and priced to move at $11.50 full retail.
How does it taste? Like it costs twice that, if not more. Steve’s right, it’s not unlike a good Crozes-Hermitage, a really good one in fact. Lots of floral and blackberry aromas with the clear scent of espresso, from the grapes rather than any new wood aging. In the mouth, the wine is ripe and fleshy with resolved tannin but brisk acid that I think will perserve this wine for some years. There’s terrific length and the wine is delicious with pretty much anything roasted. At this price, it’s worth buying at least six. Deals like this don’t come along that often.
Edmunds St. John is one of the best producers of California syrah out there. I’d call them the best, but I don’t try enough others to really know. California syrah usually isn’t my thing. So rich, so ripe, so purple, so intense! Often too intense, even the better ones.
But Edmunds St. John wines are different, and to my taste better. They’re aromatically complex without oakiness, and they taste long and subtle on the palate like a French wine despite their California ripeness. Rarely are the wines heavy, though sometimes they can be a bit lean. But always they are authentic and unique, the kind of wines that slake your thirst but keep you coming back for more.
Alas, this is not what the market wants. Winemaker Steve Edmunds writes a terrific newsletter, and recently he’s opened up about the struggles a wine producer can face when critical attention turning elsewhere coincides with plans for growth.
Of course, the wines are as good as ever, perhaps better. And the prices, while not as low as they used to be (whose are?), are more than reasonable. This is handmade wine.
And now we have The Shadow, 2002 California Syrah that Steve held in tank for a variety of reasons until this year. Normally he would release single vineyard Syrah from many of these vineyards – Bassetti, Wylie, Fenaughty, Durell, and Parmelee-Hill – as well as a California bottling from the leftovers. In 2002, it’s all in The Shadow and priced to move at $11.50 full retail.
How does it taste? Like it costs twice that, if not more. Steve’s right, it’s not unlike a good Crozes-Hermitage, a really good one in fact. Lots of floral and blackberry aromas with the clear scent of espresso, from the grapes rather than any new wood aging. In the mouth, the wine is ripe and fleshy with resolved tannin but brisk acid that I think will perserve this wine for some years. There’s terrific length and the wine is delicious with pretty much anything roasted. At this price, it’s worth buying at least six. Deals like this don’t come along that often.
September 10, 2006
White Burgundy tasting
The wine group met recently to taste a bunch of white Burgundies procured by one member who works for a local distributor.
We started with a pair of blind “mystery” wines. The first smelled like Sauvignon blanc, with a clean gooseberry, grassy lychee aroma and a tart grapefruit flavor, angular and minerally but not especially deep. I guessed New Zealand Sauvignon, but it’s the 2004 De Moor St. Bris, made from Sauvignon from just outside Chablis and one of France’s newest appellations. In retrospect, this tasted just like the ’98 and ’99 versions of this wine that I was familiar with from my days working for an importer.
Then a huge change of pace, the next wine showed a huge toasty aroma with diactyl buttery aromas, coconut, brown butter, and golden fruit. Reminds me of the 2003 Cameron Clos Electric Chardonnay from here in the Dundee Hills. Full and rich in the mouth with toasty tropical fruit, nuts and brown butter, citrusy but a bit hollow in the middle and just too oaky. With time the wood seems better integrated, I’m surprised to find out this is the 2004 Fougeray de Beauclair Marsannay made from 100% Pinot blanc, which incidentially I’ve heard Cameron blends into its Chardonnay.
Then on to the main flight of wines. I struggled with this line up, finding the first wine terrific and the others hard to distinuish from one another for a while. The first showed a broad, fresh minerally aroma wtih clean, lightly honeyed and waxy fruit and hints of smokey oak. In the mouth it had round, full and long flavors with great finesse. This was the 2004 Deux Montille Pernand-Vergelesses “Sous Frétille” and it's one of the nicest white Burgs I've had recently.
The next wine smelled a little like orange juice and sea shells with bright acids and a Chablis-like focus. It was the 2004 De la Folie Rully “Clos la Folie.” Then another sea shell, lightly stinky wine that I couldn’t get a handle on at all beside the bright flavors. It was the 2004 Dauvissat-Camus Chablis “Vaillons” that one person nailed as Chablis, but there I was thinking the Rully before was Chablis. Call this one young and closed, or maybe that's me.
The fourth wine again seemed like Chablis, a basic wine but nicely flavored but just lacking intensity. It was the 2004 Olivier Morin Bourgone Chitry, from a village very near Chablis. So at least I wasn’t far off there.
Finally, a nice fleshy clean Chardonnay with simple, lightly sweet citrus flavors. I couldn’t figure this one out either, but in retrospect that sounds like a wine from the Macon. It was the 2004 Domain Robert-Denogent Macon Fuissé “Les Taches.”
All in all, a nice tasting but challenging in that we were trying young wines from (somewhat) one region. I came away thinking that I may be a fair taster of diverse wines, but sometimes I struggle when the subjects are so similar. If I want to be a winemaker, I better be able to pick out the quality lots from an assortment of similar wines. The prescription? More practice.
We started with a pair of blind “mystery” wines. The first smelled like Sauvignon blanc, with a clean gooseberry, grassy lychee aroma and a tart grapefruit flavor, angular and minerally but not especially deep. I guessed New Zealand Sauvignon, but it’s the 2004 De Moor St. Bris, made from Sauvignon from just outside Chablis and one of France’s newest appellations. In retrospect, this tasted just like the ’98 and ’99 versions of this wine that I was familiar with from my days working for an importer.
Then a huge change of pace, the next wine showed a huge toasty aroma with diactyl buttery aromas, coconut, brown butter, and golden fruit. Reminds me of the 2003 Cameron Clos Electric Chardonnay from here in the Dundee Hills. Full and rich in the mouth with toasty tropical fruit, nuts and brown butter, citrusy but a bit hollow in the middle and just too oaky. With time the wood seems better integrated, I’m surprised to find out this is the 2004 Fougeray de Beauclair Marsannay made from 100% Pinot blanc, which incidentially I’ve heard Cameron blends into its Chardonnay.
Then on to the main flight of wines. I struggled with this line up, finding the first wine terrific and the others hard to distinuish from one another for a while. The first showed a broad, fresh minerally aroma wtih clean, lightly honeyed and waxy fruit and hints of smokey oak. In the mouth it had round, full and long flavors with great finesse. This was the 2004 Deux Montille Pernand-Vergelesses “Sous Frétille” and it's one of the nicest white Burgs I've had recently.
The next wine smelled a little like orange juice and sea shells with bright acids and a Chablis-like focus. It was the 2004 De la Folie Rully “Clos la Folie.” Then another sea shell, lightly stinky wine that I couldn’t get a handle on at all beside the bright flavors. It was the 2004 Dauvissat-Camus Chablis “Vaillons” that one person nailed as Chablis, but there I was thinking the Rully before was Chablis. Call this one young and closed, or maybe that's me.
The fourth wine again seemed like Chablis, a basic wine but nicely flavored but just lacking intensity. It was the 2004 Olivier Morin Bourgone Chitry, from a village very near Chablis. So at least I wasn’t far off there.
Finally, a nice fleshy clean Chardonnay with simple, lightly sweet citrus flavors. I couldn’t figure this one out either, but in retrospect that sounds like a wine from the Macon. It was the 2004 Domain Robert-Denogent Macon Fuissé “Les Taches.”
All in all, a nice tasting but challenging in that we were trying young wines from (somewhat) one region. I came away thinking that I may be a fair taster of diverse wines, but sometimes I struggle when the subjects are so similar. If I want to be a winemaker, I better be able to pick out the quality lots from an assortment of similar wines. The prescription? More practice.
Grape sampling at Wahle
After my visit with Betty Wahle a few weeks back, she encouraged me to come back a few times before harvest to see and taste the fruit as it ripens. That’s probably the most exciting thing for me this year. There’s no substitute for this kind of experience, something I need and have been looking to get for a while. But it’s interesting how many vineyard owners seem reluctant to let a guy like me do that.
I can understand. Vineyards are precious, and fools wandering around can at least in theory do some pretty damaging things. Namely, unwittingly bringing in bugs like phylloxera and what not on their shoes, which in an own-rooted vineyard like Wahle could be disasterous. These days vines are grafted onto bug resistant rootstock. But old vineyards like Wahle are full of own-rooted vines that are fragile, to the point where you don’t even share work tools from other vineyards that would only encourage contamination.
Betty’s a straight shooter, and although she’s warm and friendly she had no hesitation in telling me I better wear clean shoes. And you bet I’ll do just what she says.
So I took the opportunity to stop by Wahle the other day when I was in the neighborhood. I started down in the old Pommard block, which looks beautiful with fully colored clusters and a green canopy. There are mostly 2 clusters per shoot here, with approximately 12 shoots per vine in this fairly wide-spaced vineyard. All the second crop has been cut off, and already the grapes taste sweet with seeds about 50% brown. I hope to get sugar readings from Betty but I’d guess these grapes are around 22 brix as they’re as mature as some fruit I saw harvested last year. But oh, those thick skins that I think will soften up a little before harvest this year.
Moving up the slope to the east, there’s the second year vines with some tiny clusters of sweet berries. Then the fourth or fifth year Dijon vines that look a bit stressed from the dry, warm summer. The grapes here seem behind the Pommard, odd you might think as the Dijon clones are known for ripening early, a benefit in a “cool” climate. But I think this is a case where the deep roots of the Pommard have allowed consistent development during the height of summer where the shallow roots have caused the young vines to shut down more in the heat of the day. Only one cluster per shoot on most vines here with some second crop remaining and some coloring to come on the western side of the grape clusters.
The Coury clone is still the least ripe with some coloring to come and seeds that are only beginning to show browning. There are some big jangly grape clusters here that really look odd compared to the other blocks. Lots of canopy here, the Coury clone grows straight up and tall and needs lots of hedging.
Then the 777 clone that was grafted onto old vine 108 Chardonnay. Mostly 2 clusters per shoot and, like the young vine Dijon, not as sweet and tasty as the Pommard but certainly not behind in any way. It’s still early September after all and harvest here usually wouldn’t happen until probably the first days of October. This year, depending on how September plays out, harvest could come by the end of the month.
I wandered up to the top where the old vine Cabernet is, still getting color but tasting varietal in a way few grapes do. Very interesting to taste, but it’s still a long way to “ripe” and you can see why Cabernet ain’t what the Willamette Valley is known for. Then back around to where I began, retasting the blocks to see if my original impressions were right. In fact, the Pommard tastes even better at the end.
I'm very curious to see how this develops. Will the sugars soar in a hot September, will the weather cool and the flavors develop without sugars rising too much, or will the weather fall apart and our early harvest end up late and lackluster? Still too early to say, but this is what winemaking is really all about. Learning about vineyards, following the grape development, and guessing, guessing, guessing about how it will all turn out. Stay tuned.
I can understand. Vineyards are precious, and fools wandering around can at least in theory do some pretty damaging things. Namely, unwittingly bringing in bugs like phylloxera and what not on their shoes, which in an own-rooted vineyard like Wahle could be disasterous. These days vines are grafted onto bug resistant rootstock. But old vineyards like Wahle are full of own-rooted vines that are fragile, to the point where you don’t even share work tools from other vineyards that would only encourage contamination.
Betty’s a straight shooter, and although she’s warm and friendly she had no hesitation in telling me I better wear clean shoes. And you bet I’ll do just what she says.
So I took the opportunity to stop by Wahle the other day when I was in the neighborhood. I started down in the old Pommard block, which looks beautiful with fully colored clusters and a green canopy. There are mostly 2 clusters per shoot here, with approximately 12 shoots per vine in this fairly wide-spaced vineyard. All the second crop has been cut off, and already the grapes taste sweet with seeds about 50% brown. I hope to get sugar readings from Betty but I’d guess these grapes are around 22 brix as they’re as mature as some fruit I saw harvested last year. But oh, those thick skins that I think will soften up a little before harvest this year.
Moving up the slope to the east, there’s the second year vines with some tiny clusters of sweet berries. Then the fourth or fifth year Dijon vines that look a bit stressed from the dry, warm summer. The grapes here seem behind the Pommard, odd you might think as the Dijon clones are known for ripening early, a benefit in a “cool” climate. But I think this is a case where the deep roots of the Pommard have allowed consistent development during the height of summer where the shallow roots have caused the young vines to shut down more in the heat of the day. Only one cluster per shoot on most vines here with some second crop remaining and some coloring to come on the western side of the grape clusters.
The Coury clone is still the least ripe with some coloring to come and seeds that are only beginning to show browning. There are some big jangly grape clusters here that really look odd compared to the other blocks. Lots of canopy here, the Coury clone grows straight up and tall and needs lots of hedging.
Then the 777 clone that was grafted onto old vine 108 Chardonnay. Mostly 2 clusters per shoot and, like the young vine Dijon, not as sweet and tasty as the Pommard but certainly not behind in any way. It’s still early September after all and harvest here usually wouldn’t happen until probably the first days of October. This year, depending on how September plays out, harvest could come by the end of the month.
I wandered up to the top where the old vine Cabernet is, still getting color but tasting varietal in a way few grapes do. Very interesting to taste, but it’s still a long way to “ripe” and you can see why Cabernet ain’t what the Willamette Valley is known for. Then back around to where I began, retasting the blocks to see if my original impressions were right. In fact, the Pommard tastes even better at the end.
I'm very curious to see how this develops. Will the sugars soar in a hot September, will the weather cool and the flavors develop without sugars rising too much, or will the weather fall apart and our early harvest end up late and lackluster? Still too early to say, but this is what winemaking is really all about. Learning about vineyards, following the grape development, and guessing, guessing, guessing about how it will all turn out. Stay tuned.
September 09, 2006
Visit to Wahle vineyard
A few weeks back, I had the pleasure of walking the Wahle vineyard with owner Betty Wahle. Planting began here in 1974, on a ridge of old ocean sediments in what is now called the Yamhill-Carlton district. As a home winemaker, I’m going to buy some grapes from here so I asked if I could come out and look over the site.
The Wahles got into vines after buying property with old orchards of cherries and walnuts. The farming was more difficult and expensive than they bargained for, so they looked for another crop. At the Ag Show in 1974, the Wahles met Oregon wine pioneer Charles Coury, who encouaged them to plant vines. They quickly jumped in, though Betty makes it clear they really didn’t know what they were getting into.
Betty met me at the top of the vineyard, by the old family house at just over 500” elevation. We walked over to the eastern slope, with a view down to highway 240 and what Betty calls “Shea’s vineyard.” The old block at the very top was planted in 1974 to Gewurztraminer and Chardonnay, but grafted in the 1980s to Pinot gris. Further down the were 20 rows each of Riesling and Muller Thurgau, all those grafted to gris with further young vines of gris stretching far down the hill.
Betty spoke of the challenging but ultimately joyful early years, planting in an uncommonly hot year, nursing the young wines to production, then holding big events to gather people for harvest and who knows what else. The Wahles were part of the early, small, tightknit Oregon wine community that, because Oregon wine is still so relatively young, still exists even as the industry has grown so much. I wish everyone could have the pleasure of walking with Betty and hearing about those times.
We walked along the ridgetop to the south, where the Wahles planted a narrow block Sauvignon, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Sylvaner, even Semillon all still in production today but mostly if not entirely for home winemakers. Old vine Cabernet Franc?!?!? I wonder what that could produce here in the right spot. But mostly, these wines – the Sauvignon aside – generally require more heat than we have here to be special.
Across the road to the west, the vineyard falls down a long sloping southwest face, with acres of old vines of Chardonnay and Pinot noir. First the Chardonnay, rows of 32 year old 108 clone that has gone horribly out of fashion with the coming of the “Dijon” Chardonnay clones. Because of that, about half of the Chardonnay was grafted in 2001 to Pinot noir, 777 clone. Of course, many of the field grafts on these old vines didn’t take, so mixed in the Pinot noir you have the ocassional Chardonnay. I think Betty said there are about 100 of them.
The next block is old “Coury” clone, which I think could be a number of different things. Coury supplied cuttings that he apparently brought from Burgundy. I’ve seen some of them referred to as essentially Pommard, a common clone here. But the Coury clone in Wahle vineyard is like nothing I’ve seen, growing extremely prostrate and yielding medium large clusters of occasionally loose berries, very different from the more compact Pommard and the even more compact clusters of most Dijons. Betty says it ripens late, and sure enough it was the least colored of the Pinot noir I saw. Apparently there’s some similar stuff out at the old Hyland vineyard, I’ll have to look into that and see where this clone really came from.
Then there are blocks of older Pinot gris, young Pinot noir, including some second year vines only up to the fruiting wire, and furthest down the slope there’s the old block of Pommard. Planted mostly in 1974, with three rows added a few years later, this is the best looking fruit in the vineyard. The exposure looks best here, almost due south with a fair grade.
The soils in this vineyard are classic for this appellation, what we now call Willakenzie series but will soon subdivide into a number of different soils. Basically, it’s old ocean sediments pushed up through tectonic activity and now weathered into gently rolling hills. Top soils are thin, with a greyish light brown cast, sometimes quite grey and sandy. These soils drain well but perhaps too well, unlike the deep volcanic Jory soils that hold water sometimes too well. This summer has been hot and dry, and there is some stress in the vineyards. Here the crowns of any rise show some lower vigor and some premature yellowing, while a trough in one section has the most lush and vigorous vines. You can really see how water drains down this hill just from the canopy.
Betty walks me all around the vineyard and back up to the old house, telling me about the 1999 Belle Pente Wahle Vineyard Pinot Noir, one of her favorites from this site. I thank her for the time and information, and I’m really looking forward to harvest this year.
The Wahles got into vines after buying property with old orchards of cherries and walnuts. The farming was more difficult and expensive than they bargained for, so they looked for another crop. At the Ag Show in 1974, the Wahles met Oregon wine pioneer Charles Coury, who encouaged them to plant vines. They quickly jumped in, though Betty makes it clear they really didn’t know what they were getting into.
Betty met me at the top of the vineyard, by the old family house at just over 500” elevation. We walked over to the eastern slope, with a view down to highway 240 and what Betty calls “Shea’s vineyard.” The old block at the very top was planted in 1974 to Gewurztraminer and Chardonnay, but grafted in the 1980s to Pinot gris. Further down the were 20 rows each of Riesling and Muller Thurgau, all those grafted to gris with further young vines of gris stretching far down the hill.
Betty spoke of the challenging but ultimately joyful early years, planting in an uncommonly hot year, nursing the young wines to production, then holding big events to gather people for harvest and who knows what else. The Wahles were part of the early, small, tightknit Oregon wine community that, because Oregon wine is still so relatively young, still exists even as the industry has grown so much. I wish everyone could have the pleasure of walking with Betty and hearing about those times.
We walked along the ridgetop to the south, where the Wahles planted a narrow block Sauvignon, Cabernet Sauvignon, Cabernet Franc, Sylvaner, even Semillon all still in production today but mostly if not entirely for home winemakers. Old vine Cabernet Franc?!?!? I wonder what that could produce here in the right spot. But mostly, these wines – the Sauvignon aside – generally require more heat than we have here to be special.
Across the road to the west, the vineyard falls down a long sloping southwest face, with acres of old vines of Chardonnay and Pinot noir. First the Chardonnay, rows of 32 year old 108 clone that has gone horribly out of fashion with the coming of the “Dijon” Chardonnay clones. Because of that, about half of the Chardonnay was grafted in 2001 to Pinot noir, 777 clone. Of course, many of the field grafts on these old vines didn’t take, so mixed in the Pinot noir you have the ocassional Chardonnay. I think Betty said there are about 100 of them.
The next block is old “Coury” clone, which I think could be a number of different things. Coury supplied cuttings that he apparently brought from Burgundy. I’ve seen some of them referred to as essentially Pommard, a common clone here. But the Coury clone in Wahle vineyard is like nothing I’ve seen, growing extremely prostrate and yielding medium large clusters of occasionally loose berries, very different from the more compact Pommard and the even more compact clusters of most Dijons. Betty says it ripens late, and sure enough it was the least colored of the Pinot noir I saw. Apparently there’s some similar stuff out at the old Hyland vineyard, I’ll have to look into that and see where this clone really came from.
Then there are blocks of older Pinot gris, young Pinot noir, including some second year vines only up to the fruiting wire, and furthest down the slope there’s the old block of Pommard. Planted mostly in 1974, with three rows added a few years later, this is the best looking fruit in the vineyard. The exposure looks best here, almost due south with a fair grade.
The soils in this vineyard are classic for this appellation, what we now call Willakenzie series but will soon subdivide into a number of different soils. Basically, it’s old ocean sediments pushed up through tectonic activity and now weathered into gently rolling hills. Top soils are thin, with a greyish light brown cast, sometimes quite grey and sandy. These soils drain well but perhaps too well, unlike the deep volcanic Jory soils that hold water sometimes too well. This summer has been hot and dry, and there is some stress in the vineyards. Here the crowns of any rise show some lower vigor and some premature yellowing, while a trough in one section has the most lush and vigorous vines. You can really see how water drains down this hill just from the canopy.
Betty walks me all around the vineyard and back up to the old house, telling me about the 1999 Belle Pente Wahle Vineyard Pinot Noir, one of her favorites from this site. I thank her for the time and information, and I’m really looking forward to harvest this year.
September 01, 2006
Seattle wine shops
We drove up to Seattle last weekend for a quick visit with old friends. This was a family trip, no wine activities in the mix. But that didn’t stop me from poking around a few local shops to see what’s available.
Seattle wine geeks are the first to say that, while selection at the major retailers in town can be good, prices don’t come close to those of major retailers in California and other states. But from past visits, I remembered that I might find some things that aren’t available in Portland shops, and maybe a buck or two cheaper than this town.
So imagine my surprise in visiting top retailers like McCarthy and Schiering and Esquin, not to mention Pike and Western and DeLaurenti in touristy Pike’s Place Market. The selection wasn’t much better than Portland if at all, and oh the prices! With only a few exceptions, one notable (see below), prices were pretty much a buck or two higher than Portland, if not more.
The first thing I notice each time I visit Seattle is...it’s a big city, bigger than I remember. It’s not a sibling to Portland, as we tend to think down here. It’s more like a parent. The skyline is bigtime, the streets crowded, and downtown on a warm summer day there’s the stale stench of urine mixing with fresh sea air. That’s old school big city stuff, something Portland can’t match.
At least the wine could be cheap and people friendly. Actually, most of the wine shop staffers I met were quite friendly, even at Esquin where they’re in the midst of a significant remodel.
Wish I could say the same for McCarthy and Schiering in the Ravenna neighborhood. I’d heard a little about this store’s attitude, but I always give a place the benefit of the doubt. The complaint here tends to be that the staff is a bunch of wine geeks who won’t give you the time of day unless you’re one of them. It’s a familiar thing I’ve seen over the years in surf shops, guitar stores, and now with wine. My friends, who live in the neighborhood, typcially don’t go to this shop for that reason.
But I want to check it out so we head over for a browse late on Saturday afternoon. There’s a nice selection from around the world, and prices are decent for this market. It’s a nice place. Then I notice the 2004 Chateau Trignon Gigondas, a new release from Kermit Lynch imports. The price? Would you believe $13 for a 750ml? Yeah, I haven’t seen this wine that cheap in a decade. Even Trignon’s Rasteau is more than that now. So I ask the clerk, after waiting for a minute, how they have it so cheap. He’s nonplussed, and says something dismissive about how some Gigondas cost that. I persist nicely. Hey, I’ve bought this producer for years, it’s never this cheap, it’s not big deal but maybe there’s a story about the special deal they cut. Who knows, maybe it’s the wrong price? I don’t know. But here I am about to buy something, and my friend has a couple bottles too. I think I’m familar with wine a little bit, maybe the staffer would be a little interested in communicating with a soul brother? Nope, nothing, just a blank stare that seemed to ask “are you done yet?”
Now I’ve worked in a busy wine shop on busy Saturday afternoons. But there’s no good excuse for being laconic, or brief to the point of rudeness. But that’s this shop’s reputation and, much as I tried to engage, it’s funny how quickly it surfaced. We bought our wines and upon leaving, my friend commented about how they were tasting wines down the counter but not exactly offering us any tastes. Maybe we should have spent more. My friend got it right, they just didn't seem like they were having any fun. One other bargin tip – they did have the delicious Brut-Comté from the Jura on close out for $10. That’s a steal in good, cheap bubbly.
Moving on, the Pike’s Place shops are predictably spendy but well stocked with interesting wines. There’s nothing I can’t get for the same in Portland (or less, no sales tax here). But for the Seattle equivalent to Fisherman’s Wharf, DeLaurenti and Pike and Western are impressive. Oh, and I saw the ’03 Trignon Gigondas at DeLaurenti. The price? $15 for a 375ml bottle.
On the way out of town on Sunday, we stopped by Esquin, probably the top retailer in town with a shop that reminds me of the Wine Club in California. I fully expected to find at least a few things I couldn’t live without, but I left without purchasing anything. Great selection of stuff, and good enough prices for the market with a few minor bargains, but that’s about it. I was most surprised that their newsletter specials were mostly mass-market things like Jacob’s Creek Shiraz. This is a serious store. Can’t they find bargains that are a little more adventurous?
Oh, and again here’s the Trignon Gigondas, vintages ’03 and ’01. The prices? About $22 and $25, respectively, about what I’d expect these days for 750ml bottle. Hmm.
In the end, Esquin was fine, but nothing like I’d hoped. Yet if McCarthy and Schiering still has that Trignon for $13, you should load up and tell them who sent you. Just don't expect them to enjoy it.
Seattle wine geeks are the first to say that, while selection at the major retailers in town can be good, prices don’t come close to those of major retailers in California and other states. But from past visits, I remembered that I might find some things that aren’t available in Portland shops, and maybe a buck or two cheaper than this town.
So imagine my surprise in visiting top retailers like McCarthy and Schiering and Esquin, not to mention Pike and Western and DeLaurenti in touristy Pike’s Place Market. The selection wasn’t much better than Portland if at all, and oh the prices! With only a few exceptions, one notable (see below), prices were pretty much a buck or two higher than Portland, if not more.
The first thing I notice each time I visit Seattle is...it’s a big city, bigger than I remember. It’s not a sibling to Portland, as we tend to think down here. It’s more like a parent. The skyline is bigtime, the streets crowded, and downtown on a warm summer day there’s the stale stench of urine mixing with fresh sea air. That’s old school big city stuff, something Portland can’t match.
At least the wine could be cheap and people friendly. Actually, most of the wine shop staffers I met were quite friendly, even at Esquin where they’re in the midst of a significant remodel.
Wish I could say the same for McCarthy and Schiering in the Ravenna neighborhood. I’d heard a little about this store’s attitude, but I always give a place the benefit of the doubt. The complaint here tends to be that the staff is a bunch of wine geeks who won’t give you the time of day unless you’re one of them. It’s a familiar thing I’ve seen over the years in surf shops, guitar stores, and now with wine. My friends, who live in the neighborhood, typcially don’t go to this shop for that reason.
But I want to check it out so we head over for a browse late on Saturday afternoon. There’s a nice selection from around the world, and prices are decent for this market. It’s a nice place. Then I notice the 2004 Chateau Trignon Gigondas, a new release from Kermit Lynch imports. The price? Would you believe $13 for a 750ml? Yeah, I haven’t seen this wine that cheap in a decade. Even Trignon’s Rasteau is more than that now. So I ask the clerk, after waiting for a minute, how they have it so cheap. He’s nonplussed, and says something dismissive about how some Gigondas cost that. I persist nicely. Hey, I’ve bought this producer for years, it’s never this cheap, it’s not big deal but maybe there’s a story about the special deal they cut. Who knows, maybe it’s the wrong price? I don’t know. But here I am about to buy something, and my friend has a couple bottles too. I think I’m familar with wine a little bit, maybe the staffer would be a little interested in communicating with a soul brother? Nope, nothing, just a blank stare that seemed to ask “are you done yet?”
Now I’ve worked in a busy wine shop on busy Saturday afternoons. But there’s no good excuse for being laconic, or brief to the point of rudeness. But that’s this shop’s reputation and, much as I tried to engage, it’s funny how quickly it surfaced. We bought our wines and upon leaving, my friend commented about how they were tasting wines down the counter but not exactly offering us any tastes. Maybe we should have spent more. My friend got it right, they just didn't seem like they were having any fun. One other bargin tip – they did have the delicious Brut-Comté from the Jura on close out for $10. That’s a steal in good, cheap bubbly.
Moving on, the Pike’s Place shops are predictably spendy but well stocked with interesting wines. There’s nothing I can’t get for the same in Portland (or less, no sales tax here). But for the Seattle equivalent to Fisherman’s Wharf, DeLaurenti and Pike and Western are impressive. Oh, and I saw the ’03 Trignon Gigondas at DeLaurenti. The price? $15 for a 375ml bottle.
On the way out of town on Sunday, we stopped by Esquin, probably the top retailer in town with a shop that reminds me of the Wine Club in California. I fully expected to find at least a few things I couldn’t live without, but I left without purchasing anything. Great selection of stuff, and good enough prices for the market with a few minor bargains, but that’s about it. I was most surprised that their newsletter specials were mostly mass-market things like Jacob’s Creek Shiraz. This is a serious store. Can’t they find bargains that are a little more adventurous?
Oh, and again here’s the Trignon Gigondas, vintages ’03 and ’01. The prices? About $22 and $25, respectively, about what I’d expect these days for 750ml bottle. Hmm.
In the end, Esquin was fine, but nothing like I’d hoped. Yet if McCarthy and Schiering still has that Trignon for $13, you should load up and tell them who sent you. Just don't expect them to enjoy it.
August 20, 2006
A visit to Grochau Cellars
John Grochau, a lanky, wire-framed guy in his 30s, was busy on a forklift moving barrels around his small winery when I arrived for a visit.
“His winery” meaning the place he makes wine for his label Grochau Cellars. It’s really the site of Aramenta Cellars, here on Lewis Rogers Lane in the heart of the new Ribbon Ridge AVA of Oregon’s northern Willamette Valley
John describes the arrangement as a “collaboration,” where he helps the owners of Aramenta make their wine in exchange for space to do his thing.
I’ve written before about loving John’s 2004 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, so I was excited to learn more about his project. It doesn’t hurt that he’s doing exactly what I’d like to do. If I wanted a model of a low-cost, start-up winery, this is it.
We quickly got to tasting, and I ended up sampling pretty much everything he has from the 2005 vintage. How are the wines? Good to very good, not overwhelmingly great but more than simply competent. John isn’t the self-promotion type, but he’s quietly putting together a very nice mix of classic Willamette Valley wines with a growing share of bottlings from southern Oregon. The biggest lesson – don’t read too much into barrel samples, especially what you see how different (and better or more complete) things can taste once you do some blending.
We started with the soon to be bottled Chardonnay, a blend of Willamette Valley and Columbia River Gorge fruit. The former comes from the Eola Springs vineyard and an unusual clone I’d never heard of – Mendoza – that John says gives a minerally wine. Blended with the riper fruit from above White Salmon, WA (across the Columbia from Hood River, OR), this is nice, somewhat toasty and tropical fruited chardonnay with a green apple finish.
Then a single barrel of Viognier from the Pompadour vineyard 2,200 feet above Ashland in southern Oregon. There were “issues” with this wine, with a stuck fermentation that never really finished until this spring. Nicely floral on the aroma, very true to the variety, but reduced and a little rubbery. Needs some airing.
These were the only whites tasted, but John also makes Sauvignon Blanc that I’ve enjoyed before, aside from a little reduction that I think should resolve itself with time.
With the reds, we began with a variety of Pinot Noir from around the Willamette Valley. The Pommard clone from the Vidon vineyard in the Chehalem Mountin AVA has a fruity aroma but is very toasty and finely tannic from a new barrel. The same wine with slightly different treatment at the crusher showed more complexity on the aroma and a more creamy texture. 777 clone from Vidon from a Gillet barrel was dense and thick as you’d expect from this Dijon clone. John calls it good blending materials.
Then on to a sample from the Monk’s Gate vineyard off Abbey Road near the Dundee Hills but on Willakenzie soils and from the Wadenswil clone. Lighter aroma, peppery with an ashy quality I tend to get from some sedmentary soils. Then to the Dundee Hills proper, with 667 clone from the Anderson family vineyard, lots of toast, bacon, and coffee aromas, pungent with tight flavors from a new barrel. Older oak gives a lighter color, not so rich with a slightly gassy, reduced aroma.
So far, the 2005s from Grochau taste fairly ripe and rich, not showing the cool October that gave lower overall ripeness and challenged winemakers more used to, and more interested in, higher sugar levels in their grapes. Now, we get to vineyards from the cool McMinnville Foothills AVA.
First, Pommard clone from Meredith Mitchell vineyard, picked on October 16th at 22 brix and soaked up overnight to 22.5. Bright aroma, grapefruit and some gassy smells, then light caramel hints. This from a “cool” ferment peaking at 88F, a lighter but pretty and fragrant wine. Same vineyard and clone from a “hot” ferment peaking at 94F gives a slightly bigger flavor, but still the coolness of the harvest shows.
Then Momtazi vineyard, not far from Meredith Mitchell, this 115 clone picked on October 18 at 22.5 brix and soaking up to 23. I found this sample the most complete of the barrels we tried, nicely perfumed with good fruit and spice. In comparison, the “best barrel” of Meredith Mitchell shows nice bright cranberry fruit but not quite the depth of the Momtazi. These are not blockbuster wines, but I really like the lower brix perfume and lack of jamminess so prevalent in the riper fruit people around here seem to love.
John will blend these lots into a Willamette Valley bottling and a Reserve Pinot Noir. A hypothetical “Reserve” blend was outstanding;. John mixed bits of maybe a half dozen barrels, and the result is a lesson in winetasting. Bright like most of the samples, the blend showed richness that the individual wines lacked and a more complete flavor that immediately stands out from the rest. That, and the fact that these are wines are still developing, make me think 2005 will be a nice year for Grochau Cellars Pinot Noir.
So are we done? No. I was fascinated to find out how interested John is in other varieties from southern Oregon. Not simply Syrah and who knows what else from the ubiquitous Del Rio vineyard that everyone here in Oregon seems to make wine from. Rather, Tempranillo and Syrah from the Umpqua Valley and, most interestingly, Syrah from Pompadour above Ashland where John got his Viognier.
The Tempranillo from the young Upper Five vineyard has a nice bitter chocolate aroma with very fine but substantial tannin. From McQuorkadale, another Umpqua vineyard, more floral with leather and fruit aromas and even more tannin. These wines will stay in barrel for nearly another year, so it’s very early here. Same with the Syrah, first a sample from Upper Five that’s a warmer site than Pompadour, showing a little stinky and tight. This wine will be racked soon to give a little air to help resolve the reduction notes.
Finally, impressive Syrah from Pompadour. First, Syrah co-fermented with 2% Viognier, brightly aromatic with floral and coffee notes, chewy in the mouth and impressive. Then a sample with 4% Viognier added at the crusher, truly inky and a little grapey, but bright, full, and rich. Both of these wines show Rhone-like flavors, not simply oakiness that most new world producers rely on for complexity. John describes the Pompadour site as a rocky hillside, like a little Hermitage in southern Oregon. We’ll have to check that out – if there are truly great sites here in Oregon to grow Syrah, that would be exciting.
For now, I wrap up my visit peppering John with questions about how he got started in wine (though Higgins restaurant where he still works part-time), in winemaking (working up the road at Brick House), and most importantly, how much debt he’s in so far (not so much, actually, so there’s a glimmer of hope for me yet). John's also working on long-term lease to plant and farm a nice hayfield just down the road. I’m excited enough to offer to help out at harvest a little, and we’ll see how that plays out. It’s not everyday you get to see someone living your dream, and doing it well. I’ll make a point to stay in touch with Grochau Cellars. You should too.
“His winery” meaning the place he makes wine for his label Grochau Cellars. It’s really the site of Aramenta Cellars, here on Lewis Rogers Lane in the heart of the new Ribbon Ridge AVA of Oregon’s northern Willamette Valley
John describes the arrangement as a “collaboration,” where he helps the owners of Aramenta make their wine in exchange for space to do his thing.
I’ve written before about loving John’s 2004 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, so I was excited to learn more about his project. It doesn’t hurt that he’s doing exactly what I’d like to do. If I wanted a model of a low-cost, start-up winery, this is it.
We quickly got to tasting, and I ended up sampling pretty much everything he has from the 2005 vintage. How are the wines? Good to very good, not overwhelmingly great but more than simply competent. John isn’t the self-promotion type, but he’s quietly putting together a very nice mix of classic Willamette Valley wines with a growing share of bottlings from southern Oregon. The biggest lesson – don’t read too much into barrel samples, especially what you see how different (and better or more complete) things can taste once you do some blending.
We started with the soon to be bottled Chardonnay, a blend of Willamette Valley and Columbia River Gorge fruit. The former comes from the Eola Springs vineyard and an unusual clone I’d never heard of – Mendoza – that John says gives a minerally wine. Blended with the riper fruit from above White Salmon, WA (across the Columbia from Hood River, OR), this is nice, somewhat toasty and tropical fruited chardonnay with a green apple finish.
Then a single barrel of Viognier from the Pompadour vineyard 2,200 feet above Ashland in southern Oregon. There were “issues” with this wine, with a stuck fermentation that never really finished until this spring. Nicely floral on the aroma, very true to the variety, but reduced and a little rubbery. Needs some airing.
These were the only whites tasted, but John also makes Sauvignon Blanc that I’ve enjoyed before, aside from a little reduction that I think should resolve itself with time.
With the reds, we began with a variety of Pinot Noir from around the Willamette Valley. The Pommard clone from the Vidon vineyard in the Chehalem Mountin AVA has a fruity aroma but is very toasty and finely tannic from a new barrel. The same wine with slightly different treatment at the crusher showed more complexity on the aroma and a more creamy texture. 777 clone from Vidon from a Gillet barrel was dense and thick as you’d expect from this Dijon clone. John calls it good blending materials.
Then on to a sample from the Monk’s Gate vineyard off Abbey Road near the Dundee Hills but on Willakenzie soils and from the Wadenswil clone. Lighter aroma, peppery with an ashy quality I tend to get from some sedmentary soils. Then to the Dundee Hills proper, with 667 clone from the Anderson family vineyard, lots of toast, bacon, and coffee aromas, pungent with tight flavors from a new barrel. Older oak gives a lighter color, not so rich with a slightly gassy, reduced aroma.
So far, the 2005s from Grochau taste fairly ripe and rich, not showing the cool October that gave lower overall ripeness and challenged winemakers more used to, and more interested in, higher sugar levels in their grapes. Now, we get to vineyards from the cool McMinnville Foothills AVA.
First, Pommard clone from Meredith Mitchell vineyard, picked on October 16th at 22 brix and soaked up overnight to 22.5. Bright aroma, grapefruit and some gassy smells, then light caramel hints. This from a “cool” ferment peaking at 88F, a lighter but pretty and fragrant wine. Same vineyard and clone from a “hot” ferment peaking at 94F gives a slightly bigger flavor, but still the coolness of the harvest shows.
Then Momtazi vineyard, not far from Meredith Mitchell, this 115 clone picked on October 18 at 22.5 brix and soaking up to 23. I found this sample the most complete of the barrels we tried, nicely perfumed with good fruit and spice. In comparison, the “best barrel” of Meredith Mitchell shows nice bright cranberry fruit but not quite the depth of the Momtazi. These are not blockbuster wines, but I really like the lower brix perfume and lack of jamminess so prevalent in the riper fruit people around here seem to love.
John will blend these lots into a Willamette Valley bottling and a Reserve Pinot Noir. A hypothetical “Reserve” blend was outstanding;. John mixed bits of maybe a half dozen barrels, and the result is a lesson in winetasting. Bright like most of the samples, the blend showed richness that the individual wines lacked and a more complete flavor that immediately stands out from the rest. That, and the fact that these are wines are still developing, make me think 2005 will be a nice year for Grochau Cellars Pinot Noir.
So are we done? No. I was fascinated to find out how interested John is in other varieties from southern Oregon. Not simply Syrah and who knows what else from the ubiquitous Del Rio vineyard that everyone here in Oregon seems to make wine from. Rather, Tempranillo and Syrah from the Umpqua Valley and, most interestingly, Syrah from Pompadour above Ashland where John got his Viognier.
The Tempranillo from the young Upper Five vineyard has a nice bitter chocolate aroma with very fine but substantial tannin. From McQuorkadale, another Umpqua vineyard, more floral with leather and fruit aromas and even more tannin. These wines will stay in barrel for nearly another year, so it’s very early here. Same with the Syrah, first a sample from Upper Five that’s a warmer site than Pompadour, showing a little stinky and tight. This wine will be racked soon to give a little air to help resolve the reduction notes.
Finally, impressive Syrah from Pompadour. First, Syrah co-fermented with 2% Viognier, brightly aromatic with floral and coffee notes, chewy in the mouth and impressive. Then a sample with 4% Viognier added at the crusher, truly inky and a little grapey, but bright, full, and rich. Both of these wines show Rhone-like flavors, not simply oakiness that most new world producers rely on for complexity. John describes the Pompadour site as a rocky hillside, like a little Hermitage in southern Oregon. We’ll have to check that out – if there are truly great sites here in Oregon to grow Syrah, that would be exciting.
For now, I wrap up my visit peppering John with questions about how he got started in wine (though Higgins restaurant where he still works part-time), in winemaking (working up the road at Brick House), and most importantly, how much debt he’s in so far (not so much, actually, so there’s a glimmer of hope for me yet). John's also working on long-term lease to plant and farm a nice hayfield just down the road. I’m excited enough to offer to help out at harvest a little, and we’ll see how that plays out. It’s not everyday you get to see someone living your dream, and doing it well. I’ll make a point to stay in touch with Grochau Cellars. You should too.
August 15, 2006
Summer drinking in the Manning's backyard
We went over to Marshall and Carolyn Manning’s house for Marshall’s birthday celebration the other night. As usual, there was lots of nice wine that, given the social setting, was fun to taste but not analyze too critically. Nice seeing old friends and meeting even more local winos. The Mannings are simply terrific folks.
Among the whites, the 2003 Donnhoff Riesling Niederhauser Hermannshohle Spatlese was terrific with fresh riesling flavors and light sweetness. A 1999 Pierre Sparr Pinot Gris “Brand” was showing some age, with rich, lightly sweet flavors but a maturing profile and a cidery edge. I brought the 2003 Evesham Wood Chardonnay “Les Puits Sec” from their estate vineyard near Salem, OR. Some thought it too oaky, but I thought it was delicious and worth aging for a few years to see how it develops. The rareity of the evening was an old Oregon wine, the 1985 Eyrie Vineyard Chardonnay that smelled interesting and mature but tasted just a bit tired. Perhaps it was the setting, as this wine hasn’t cracked, but it just wasn’t as compelling as I hoped.
Rosé? There were a few, but I tried only the nice 2005 Domaine Gaussen Bandol Rosé, which is brightly fruity and crisp. As Marshall said, the value rosé of the season.
And then there were reds. I also brought the 2001 Raspail-Ay Gigondas, on close-out locally and worth twice the $16 price. Old school grenache-based southern Rhone wine here, lots of stones, red fruit, earth, and herbs. Not tannic as I expected, but bright and probably worth aging 5 to 10 years. Then came a progression of terrific reds, and I didn’t even try everything.
With lamb kebabs, the 1995 Domaine Tempier Bandol "La Tourtine", opened by the host (thanks big fella). Still young, but beginning to show bottle sweetness, softly tannic and just terrific with the lamb. Really nice wine.
The 2001 Domaine Pegau Chateauneuf du Pape “Cuvee Laurence” is a huge wine with more than a little alcohol and such extract and weight, and finesse despite its size. Rich in the mouth with young but already complex flavors, this is powerful wine but savory, not jammy and candy sweet. Apparently this sees small oak casks, but I didn’t pick up much woodiness. I remember feeling the same after trying the ’95 “Laurnece” a few years back, which was also outstanding.
In contrast, the 2003 Copain Syrah “Cailloux & Coccinelle” from Washington grapes was clearly new world in color and fruit aroma. I was impressed with the natural texture and smokey signature of this wine, without being overly oaky or creamy. My first Copain wine and I enjoyed it, though as with all these wines, I didn't have much to taste and I didn't spend lots of time pondering each.
Then a pair of old Sonoma zins appeared. First, the 1984 Lytton Springs Zinfandel from the Valley Vista vineyard. This wine is huge, port like with clear residual sugar. It’s holding together well but a bit jarring on the senses. Not so much like the ’81 Lytton Springs I tried last summer, which was terrific, supple zinfandel without the late harvest notes. In contrast was the 1982 Joseph Swan Zinfandel Sonoma County, more claret in style as Joe apparently favored in the 1980s. We should have tried these zins in reverse order. This wine showed a bit lean following the Lytton Springs. Reminiscent of the ’81 Swan Sonoma tried a few years back, both are very cherry and bright, not so much evolved as pleasantly alive in their place. No rush here.
What’s this, Califonia Pinot Noir in Oregon? The 2003 Hitching Post Pinot Noir Highliner was just as nice as I remember Hitching Post wines to be, never blockbusters but always nicely ripe with just the proper amount of earthiness to keep things interesting. The only downside here was a touch of sulfur on the nose.
Then came the 1993 Chevillon Nuits St. Georges “Les Chaignots” – a lively, still youthful Burgundy that’s drinking well. Fragrant with lots of floral notes, not tannic but firm in the mouth, this showed a little floral bitterness but otherwise nicely ripe fruit with good length.
Finally, after the pair of Montevertine Riservas I tasted recently, thank you to whomever brought the 1995 Montevertine Le Pergole Torte, made from 100% Sangiovese from Tuscany. Take the old school richness and fragrance from the ’95 Riserva and add just the right amount of sweet fruit and florals to give even more depth and you have the ’95 Le Pergole Torte. Wow, this was delicious and another favorite from the night.
And would you believe I skipped a bunch of wines and we left early before the dessert bottles? Sometimes there is too much wine, not a bad problem to have, and as it was the next morning was looking to be a bit foggy. So off into the night.
Among the whites, the 2003 Donnhoff Riesling Niederhauser Hermannshohle Spatlese was terrific with fresh riesling flavors and light sweetness. A 1999 Pierre Sparr Pinot Gris “Brand” was showing some age, with rich, lightly sweet flavors but a maturing profile and a cidery edge. I brought the 2003 Evesham Wood Chardonnay “Les Puits Sec” from their estate vineyard near Salem, OR. Some thought it too oaky, but I thought it was delicious and worth aging for a few years to see how it develops. The rareity of the evening was an old Oregon wine, the 1985 Eyrie Vineyard Chardonnay that smelled interesting and mature but tasted just a bit tired. Perhaps it was the setting, as this wine hasn’t cracked, but it just wasn’t as compelling as I hoped.
Rosé? There were a few, but I tried only the nice 2005 Domaine Gaussen Bandol Rosé, which is brightly fruity and crisp. As Marshall said, the value rosé of the season.
And then there were reds. I also brought the 2001 Raspail-Ay Gigondas, on close-out locally and worth twice the $16 price. Old school grenache-based southern Rhone wine here, lots of stones, red fruit, earth, and herbs. Not tannic as I expected, but bright and probably worth aging 5 to 10 years. Then came a progression of terrific reds, and I didn’t even try everything.
With lamb kebabs, the 1995 Domaine Tempier Bandol "La Tourtine", opened by the host (thanks big fella). Still young, but beginning to show bottle sweetness, softly tannic and just terrific with the lamb. Really nice wine.
The 2001 Domaine Pegau Chateauneuf du Pape “Cuvee Laurence” is a huge wine with more than a little alcohol and such extract and weight, and finesse despite its size. Rich in the mouth with young but already complex flavors, this is powerful wine but savory, not jammy and candy sweet. Apparently this sees small oak casks, but I didn’t pick up much woodiness. I remember feeling the same after trying the ’95 “Laurnece” a few years back, which was also outstanding.
In contrast, the 2003 Copain Syrah “Cailloux & Coccinelle” from Washington grapes was clearly new world in color and fruit aroma. I was impressed with the natural texture and smokey signature of this wine, without being overly oaky or creamy. My first Copain wine and I enjoyed it, though as with all these wines, I didn't have much to taste and I didn't spend lots of time pondering each.
Then a pair of old Sonoma zins appeared. First, the 1984 Lytton Springs Zinfandel from the Valley Vista vineyard. This wine is huge, port like with clear residual sugar. It’s holding together well but a bit jarring on the senses. Not so much like the ’81 Lytton Springs I tried last summer, which was terrific, supple zinfandel without the late harvest notes. In contrast was the 1982 Joseph Swan Zinfandel Sonoma County, more claret in style as Joe apparently favored in the 1980s. We should have tried these zins in reverse order. This wine showed a bit lean following the Lytton Springs. Reminiscent of the ’81 Swan Sonoma tried a few years back, both are very cherry and bright, not so much evolved as pleasantly alive in their place. No rush here.
What’s this, Califonia Pinot Noir in Oregon? The 2003 Hitching Post Pinot Noir Highliner was just as nice as I remember Hitching Post wines to be, never blockbusters but always nicely ripe with just the proper amount of earthiness to keep things interesting. The only downside here was a touch of sulfur on the nose.
Then came the 1993 Chevillon Nuits St. Georges “Les Chaignots” – a lively, still youthful Burgundy that’s drinking well. Fragrant with lots of floral notes, not tannic but firm in the mouth, this showed a little floral bitterness but otherwise nicely ripe fruit with good length.
Finally, after the pair of Montevertine Riservas I tasted recently, thank you to whomever brought the 1995 Montevertine Le Pergole Torte, made from 100% Sangiovese from Tuscany. Take the old school richness and fragrance from the ’95 Riserva and add just the right amount of sweet fruit and florals to give even more depth and you have the ’95 Le Pergole Torte. Wow, this was delicious and another favorite from the night.
And would you believe I skipped a bunch of wines and we left early before the dessert bottles? Sometimes there is too much wine, not a bad problem to have, and as it was the next morning was looking to be a bit foggy. So off into the night.
August 11, 2006
Terrific red Burgundy from de Villaine
When it comes down to it, about the most exciting wine I’ve have recently is a $20 red Burgundy, the 2004 A. Et P. De Villaine Bourgogne “La Dogoine” from the Cote Chalonnaise.
This part of Burgundy, immediately south of the Cote d’Or, typcially produces lighter wines from pinot noir and chardonnay than its northerly neighbor. But de Villaine is in my mind the leader of the better producers in the region. Every wine I’ve had from this producer has been exceptional.
This wine is no different. It shows a brilliant light ruby color, with a perfumed, simply gorgeous aroma. It is not deep but it’s so elegant and ripe at once, with cherries and wood spice, it makes me think of something we might produce in Oregon at our best. Soft and silky in the mouth, truly elegant with spicy cherry and mineral flavors, bright and light textured but ripe tasting and so pleasurable. Great acidity draws out the finish, it's so fresh and pure I found myself thinking, simply, "wow."
This isn’t complex wine, but it is so aromatic and delicious. I think this is terrific for drinking now, and for the money it pretty much blows away the local competition for value. But I wouldn’t think I’d want to age this wine more than a few years.
So I find it interesting that the de Villaine brochure says that La Digoine “benefits from bottle aging.” It goes on to say:
“After 18 to 24 months, slow maturation and evolution begin to make their mark, and La Digoine will improve over the next ten years, revealing the deep, complex aroma worthy of a great Burgundy. Depending on cellar condition, we recommend twelve to fifteen years of aging.”
Wow. That’s a long time. But when I think about it, with this producer, I wouldn’t be surprised. This is, after all, probably the best “generic” red Bourgogne I’ve ever had.
This part of Burgundy, immediately south of the Cote d’Or, typcially produces lighter wines from pinot noir and chardonnay than its northerly neighbor. But de Villaine is in my mind the leader of the better producers in the region. Every wine I’ve had from this producer has been exceptional.
This wine is no different. It shows a brilliant light ruby color, with a perfumed, simply gorgeous aroma. It is not deep but it’s so elegant and ripe at once, with cherries and wood spice, it makes me think of something we might produce in Oregon at our best. Soft and silky in the mouth, truly elegant with spicy cherry and mineral flavors, bright and light textured but ripe tasting and so pleasurable. Great acidity draws out the finish, it's so fresh and pure I found myself thinking, simply, "wow."
This isn’t complex wine, but it is so aromatic and delicious. I think this is terrific for drinking now, and for the money it pretty much blows away the local competition for value. But I wouldn’t think I’d want to age this wine more than a few years.
So I find it interesting that the de Villaine brochure says that La Digoine “benefits from bottle aging.” It goes on to say:
“After 18 to 24 months, slow maturation and evolution begin to make their mark, and La Digoine will improve over the next ten years, revealing the deep, complex aroma worthy of a great Burgundy. Depending on cellar condition, we recommend twelve to fifteen years of aging.”
Wow. That’s a long time. But when I think about it, with this producer, I wouldn’t be surprised. This is, after all, probably the best “generic” red Bourgogne I’ve ever had.
August 06, 2006
Italy: Something old (school), something new
I try to avoid the circular old world/new world debates that rage in online wine fora about so-called “traditional” wine from old fashioned methods vs. “international” wine made from the latest technical innovations. Traditional methods often reflect what were probably heretical advances a generation or three back. And the latest technological innovations aren’t all about making wines the world over taste the same.
But sometimes you just have to ask – what the hell is going on in Italy?
A few weeks back, my wine group had a blind tasting in two flights. First, a pair of traditionally made Tuscan wines from Montevertine. These wines are both made from 90% Sangiovese and 10% Caniaolo grapes, and are labelled “Riserva” on the back label while just “Montevertine” on the front.
The 1995 Montevertine was stellar, with a ruddy ruby color and an elegant but rich aroma that to me defines quality Tuscan red wine. Cocoa, cherries, smoke and a light balsamic accent, with great purity and depth. In the mouth, the wine was soft with good acidity and fine tannin, tart cherry flavors and terrific balance, very good wine that should only be better with dinner.
In contrast, the 1996 Montevertine was sweeter aromatically, almost Amarone-like in richness (where the grapes are dried before fermentation), with a minty herbal edge not unlike a California wine. Fat with a minty tone in the mouth, this wine is chewy and heavier than the 1995 but still classically made. That is, ruby rather than purple in color, with winey aromas instead of sweet fresh fruitiness and firm but not unnaturally sharp acidic structure. I thought the ’96 might be from ’97, to my knowledge a riper vintage, but still this was impressive if a little odd for my tastes. Interestingly, I mentioned this wine to a very wine-knowledgable friend who said, “I love how high quality Sangiovese can show a eucalyptus quality.” Which I’d never heard before, so perhaps what I thought a bit odd isn’t so odd at all.
In any event, these wines from Montevertine show what terrific, old-school Italian red wine can be like. They don’t come cheap at a price beteen $40 and $50, but they are quality wines that have aged well and will continue to age for another decade or more.
And then we moved to flight #2, a trio of 2001 vintage wines from Fattoria Zerbina in the up-and-coming Emilia Romagna region east of Tuscany. These wines absolutely confounded me. They didn’t taste Italian, instead they could have come from anywhere but really that’s not the criticism. They just aren’t that attractive. If you want big, lush, modern wines, you can do a lot better than these, at lower prices.
First was the 2001 Zerbina “Pietranora” Superiore Riserva, dark red in color with a yeasty, nail polish-tinged aroma of jammy sweet fruit amid some attractive perfume. In the mouth, the wine was sharply acidic with more volatility, a creamy, oxygen-deprived frootiness, and fine but drying tannin that hardens the finish. In short, “impressively” ripe and rich wine but wholly unappealing. How do they do that? Let’s not mention the boozy whack of alcohol, as this bottling weighs in at 15.5%. Yikes. Not to mention the price - $65. Eek!
Next came the 2001 Zerbina “Ceregio” Sangiovese di Romagna, to me the only one of the three maybe worth drinking. Slightly ligher in color with some perserved fruit aromas and earthy complexity in the mouth alongside similarly the tannic, candy froot flavors of the Pietranora. At least this tasted like Sangiovese, if not really good Sangiovese. Would you believe that this is the cheapest of the three by a wide margin? Around $15.
Finally, the 2001 Zerbina Marzieno Ravanna Rosso, which was eye-stingingly volatile with big creamy sweet fruit aromas along with a thick, dark color. There were also some tar, dirt, and pepper notes, but in the mouth it was even more tannic than the others, and not tannic in a way that time would tame. I see this drying out over time, the lush purple fruit shortening with age while the rough tannin and acid structure takes things over. For this, you pay around $50.
In the end, I loved Montevertine. Can you believe I’d never tried this producer before? And as for Zerbina, others report greatness and who am I to argue? But I know what I’m drinking.
But sometimes you just have to ask – what the hell is going on in Italy?
A few weeks back, my wine group had a blind tasting in two flights. First, a pair of traditionally made Tuscan wines from Montevertine. These wines are both made from 90% Sangiovese and 10% Caniaolo grapes, and are labelled “Riserva” on the back label while just “Montevertine” on the front.
The 1995 Montevertine was stellar, with a ruddy ruby color and an elegant but rich aroma that to me defines quality Tuscan red wine. Cocoa, cherries, smoke and a light balsamic accent, with great purity and depth. In the mouth, the wine was soft with good acidity and fine tannin, tart cherry flavors and terrific balance, very good wine that should only be better with dinner.
In contrast, the 1996 Montevertine was sweeter aromatically, almost Amarone-like in richness (where the grapes are dried before fermentation), with a minty herbal edge not unlike a California wine. Fat with a minty tone in the mouth, this wine is chewy and heavier than the 1995 but still classically made. That is, ruby rather than purple in color, with winey aromas instead of sweet fresh fruitiness and firm but not unnaturally sharp acidic structure. I thought the ’96 might be from ’97, to my knowledge a riper vintage, but still this was impressive if a little odd for my tastes. Interestingly, I mentioned this wine to a very wine-knowledgable friend who said, “I love how high quality Sangiovese can show a eucalyptus quality.” Which I’d never heard before, so perhaps what I thought a bit odd isn’t so odd at all.
In any event, these wines from Montevertine show what terrific, old-school Italian red wine can be like. They don’t come cheap at a price beteen $40 and $50, but they are quality wines that have aged well and will continue to age for another decade or more.
And then we moved to flight #2, a trio of 2001 vintage wines from Fattoria Zerbina in the up-and-coming Emilia Romagna region east of Tuscany. These wines absolutely confounded me. They didn’t taste Italian, instead they could have come from anywhere but really that’s not the criticism. They just aren’t that attractive. If you want big, lush, modern wines, you can do a lot better than these, at lower prices.
First was the 2001 Zerbina “Pietranora” Superiore Riserva, dark red in color with a yeasty, nail polish-tinged aroma of jammy sweet fruit amid some attractive perfume. In the mouth, the wine was sharply acidic with more volatility, a creamy, oxygen-deprived frootiness, and fine but drying tannin that hardens the finish. In short, “impressively” ripe and rich wine but wholly unappealing. How do they do that? Let’s not mention the boozy whack of alcohol, as this bottling weighs in at 15.5%. Yikes. Not to mention the price - $65. Eek!
Next came the 2001 Zerbina “Ceregio” Sangiovese di Romagna, to me the only one of the three maybe worth drinking. Slightly ligher in color with some perserved fruit aromas and earthy complexity in the mouth alongside similarly the tannic, candy froot flavors of the Pietranora. At least this tasted like Sangiovese, if not really good Sangiovese. Would you believe that this is the cheapest of the three by a wide margin? Around $15.
Finally, the 2001 Zerbina Marzieno Ravanna Rosso, which was eye-stingingly volatile with big creamy sweet fruit aromas along with a thick, dark color. There were also some tar, dirt, and pepper notes, but in the mouth it was even more tannic than the others, and not tannic in a way that time would tame. I see this drying out over time, the lush purple fruit shortening with age while the rough tannin and acid structure takes things over. For this, you pay around $50.
In the end, I loved Montevertine. Can you believe I’d never tried this producer before? And as for Zerbina, others report greatness and who am I to argue? But I know what I’m drinking.
July 22, 2006
2000 Domaine de Roally Macon-Villages
A few years ago I had this wine for the first time and was shocked at its quality. I had never heard of Domaine de Roally but bought one bottle on the recommendation of a local wine shop. It cost $20 and tasted like it could cost twice that or more. Imagine my delight on finding a few more at another local shop on close out for $11. Why is wine like this ever on close out? God only knows.
A quick web search will show you that I was woefully behind the curve in not knowing about Roally. Happily I’ve changed that. The proprietor Henri Goyard is something of a legend and iconoclast. As with a few other avant gard French producers, Goyard has been denied certain AOC status at times for producing wines that don’t show the “typicité” of their appellation. In Goyard’s case, his late picked Chardonnay grapes occasionally tinged with botrytis produce uncommonly rich, even decadent white wines from a region more typcially known for lean, crisp green apple aromas and flavors. Sometimes Goyard’s wines are sweet, depending on whether the fermentation ended dry or with a little residual sugar. Usually, the wines are great. Read more about Roally at the importer's site.
So the other night I went to the cellar looking for something special, and found this. A quick pour showed a beautiful golden color. I swirled the wine and took a sniff – wow. Without any airing, the wine was already so complex. Ripe yellow fruit, minerals, cinnamon and other spice aromas without any new oak smells, and the unmistakeable honeyed scent of botrytis. In the mouth, the wine is still young but expansive with terrific flavors that echo the aroma. I noticed more sweetness than other bottles, really just a hint of residual sugar balanced nicely with fresh acidity that together draw out the finish. This wine offers stunning quality for what is entry level pricing from higher end appellations. This is Macon wine that tastes like top shelf white Burgundy from the Cote d’Or, and perhaps should be a model for what Oregonians could do with Chardonnay from less than exquisite terroir.
Sadly, this was my last bottle of what turned out to be Goyard’s final vintage before handing things off to the nephew of Macon legend Jean Thevenet. I have one bottle of the ’02 in the cellar, and it’s still available locally for $23. There has been no apparently drop off in quality, so look for Domaine de Roally. I only wish I had more from old man Goyard.
A quick web search will show you that I was woefully behind the curve in not knowing about Roally. Happily I’ve changed that. The proprietor Henri Goyard is something of a legend and iconoclast. As with a few other avant gard French producers, Goyard has been denied certain AOC status at times for producing wines that don’t show the “typicité” of their appellation. In Goyard’s case, his late picked Chardonnay grapes occasionally tinged with botrytis produce uncommonly rich, even decadent white wines from a region more typcially known for lean, crisp green apple aromas and flavors. Sometimes Goyard’s wines are sweet, depending on whether the fermentation ended dry or with a little residual sugar. Usually, the wines are great. Read more about Roally at the importer's site.
So the other night I went to the cellar looking for something special, and found this. A quick pour showed a beautiful golden color. I swirled the wine and took a sniff – wow. Without any airing, the wine was already so complex. Ripe yellow fruit, minerals, cinnamon and other spice aromas without any new oak smells, and the unmistakeable honeyed scent of botrytis. In the mouth, the wine is still young but expansive with terrific flavors that echo the aroma. I noticed more sweetness than other bottles, really just a hint of residual sugar balanced nicely with fresh acidity that together draw out the finish. This wine offers stunning quality for what is entry level pricing from higher end appellations. This is Macon wine that tastes like top shelf white Burgundy from the Cote d’Or, and perhaps should be a model for what Oregonians could do with Chardonnay from less than exquisite terroir.
Sadly, this was my last bottle of what turned out to be Goyard’s final vintage before handing things off to the nephew of Macon legend Jean Thevenet. I have one bottle of the ’02 in the cellar, and it’s still available locally for $23. There has been no apparently drop off in quality, so look for Domaine de Roally. I only wish I had more from old man Goyard.
July 18, 2006
Reading about wine
Actually, reading about Oregon wine, mostly.
Have you seen the new Oregon Wine Press? This sleepy little monthly recently changed hands and the quality of writing and content is soaring. There’s even good copyediting now. Now the features are more interesting, the news is newsier, and I actually find myself interested in what the next issue will bring.
Then there’s Wine Press Northwest, which may just annoy me for its emphasis on Washington wines under the banner of the the broader northwest. It’s forgivable, the publication is based in Kennewick, WA. Hey, I’m in Oregon and equally biased toward our wines. But the WPN columnists for the most part leave me unsatisfied, and the wine reccomendations seem like wasted opportunities. Do we need write ups on wine from Domaine Ste. Michelle and Willamette Valley Vineyards? Is the readership that unadventurous? At least the latest issue bucks the trend with a pretty good cover story on new Oregon AVAs.
I liked a new publication, Imbibe. It’s from Portland but does a surprisingly good job at disguising that fact. Lots of ads from across the country with features that don’t focus on the local scene too much. This magazine is about all beverages, and the premiere issue does a good job with features on Mezcal, “third wave” coffee, and, unfortunately, a mixologist. What a terrible word, and no magazine can be perfect.
Wine-wise, there’s a terrific feature on organic grape growing featuring Brick House and Evesham Wood from the northern Willamette Valley. The wine recommendations even include a Savennieres from French biodynamic guru Nicholas Joly. Talk about challenging your readership. Good stuff here, fresh without being over the top “cool.” As in, not cool. Remember Wine X? Is that even still around?
Finally, a sad note to pass on. Wine industry publications like Wines and Vines still suck. Good lord. If a space alien got ahold of the July issue, it would think wine on earth was nothing more than a vehicle to flavor with oak chips, oak stave inserts for wine tanks, oak dust, oak essence, even some screw threaded oak plugs that offer maximum flavoring in a tidy, small package. Ok, the issue theme is Oak Alternatives, so at least they’re comprehensive. But how depressing.
And yet there’s a bright spot. On nearly the last page, there’s an opinion piece from...surprise, surprise...Alice Feiring. Talk about the last person I expected to see in this issue. Alice is a terrific wine writer who has one of the better blogs. If only I could steal the whole package – her design, her writing, even her curly red hair. And here she is writing about whether or not biodynamism is just a marketing ploy in America, a way for some capitalists to charge more money for no good reason. Like with the commercialization of “organic” labelled food. Nice piece, Alice. Refreshingly unflavored with oak.
Have you seen the new Oregon Wine Press? This sleepy little monthly recently changed hands and the quality of writing and content is soaring. There’s even good copyediting now. Now the features are more interesting, the news is newsier, and I actually find myself interested in what the next issue will bring.
Then there’s Wine Press Northwest, which may just annoy me for its emphasis on Washington wines under the banner of the the broader northwest. It’s forgivable, the publication is based in Kennewick, WA. Hey, I’m in Oregon and equally biased toward our wines. But the WPN columnists for the most part leave me unsatisfied, and the wine reccomendations seem like wasted opportunities. Do we need write ups on wine from Domaine Ste. Michelle and Willamette Valley Vineyards? Is the readership that unadventurous? At least the latest issue bucks the trend with a pretty good cover story on new Oregon AVAs.
I liked a new publication, Imbibe. It’s from Portland but does a surprisingly good job at disguising that fact. Lots of ads from across the country with features that don’t focus on the local scene too much. This magazine is about all beverages, and the premiere issue does a good job with features on Mezcal, “third wave” coffee, and, unfortunately, a mixologist. What a terrible word, and no magazine can be perfect.
Wine-wise, there’s a terrific feature on organic grape growing featuring Brick House and Evesham Wood from the northern Willamette Valley. The wine recommendations even include a Savennieres from French biodynamic guru Nicholas Joly. Talk about challenging your readership. Good stuff here, fresh without being over the top “cool.” As in, not cool. Remember Wine X? Is that even still around?
Finally, a sad note to pass on. Wine industry publications like Wines and Vines still suck. Good lord. If a space alien got ahold of the July issue, it would think wine on earth was nothing more than a vehicle to flavor with oak chips, oak stave inserts for wine tanks, oak dust, oak essence, even some screw threaded oak plugs that offer maximum flavoring in a tidy, small package. Ok, the issue theme is Oak Alternatives, so at least they’re comprehensive. But how depressing.
And yet there’s a bright spot. On nearly the last page, there’s an opinion piece from...surprise, surprise...Alice Feiring. Talk about the last person I expected to see in this issue. Alice is a terrific wine writer who has one of the better blogs. If only I could steal the whole package – her design, her writing, even her curly red hair. And here she is writing about whether or not biodynamism is just a marketing ploy in America, a way for some capitalists to charge more money for no good reason. Like with the commercialization of “organic” labelled food. Nice piece, Alice. Refreshingly unflavored with oak.
July 15, 2006
Homebrewing update, with DDO tasting notes
Summer’s here and things are happening again at homebrew central. Last year’s Pinot Noir from Courting Hill Vineyard is still resting fairly comfortably in my basement. Fairly comfortably because I don’t have an actively cooled cellar, meaning there’s no air conditioning. With local temperatures in the 80s most days, even above 100 for two days last month, my cellar is in the mid to upper 60s with little day/night variation. Far from ideal, but cool enough and the wine is holding up well. I'll rack it soon and bottle next month.
So how does it taste? Better than ever, with a nice if simple perfume and fresh, tart flavors without complexity but also without defects. It’s competent wine, which is really my goal to this point. Can I take decent grapes and not screw them up? So far so good.
Which brings us to the coming harvest and my goal of finding really good grapes to make my best homebrew ever. Here in the northern Willamette Valley, the growing season so far has been a bit warmer than usual, with unusual June heat but a cooler if not actually cool July. From what I hear, mildew hasn’t materialized significantly in the vineyards despite a relatively humid spring. Flowering happened in mid-June with good weather, and crop set sounds like it’s above the past couple years, but not too large to worry much about getting everything ripe. Assuming the weather stays on track. We still have a ways to go.
What’s significant about crop set? After a lightish 2005 and a small crop in 2004, a better yield means homebrewers like me have more hope of finding quality grapes. So the other day I gave a call to Betty Wahle, who farms the well regarded Wahle Vineyard in the newly designated (or soon to be, can’t recall which) Yamhill-Carlton AVA. I had a terrific conversation with Betty, and I’ll be getting a ½ ton of Pinot Noir and a tiny bit of Chardonnay from her 30+ year old vines. Old clone stuff that I want, not the earlier ripening Dijon clones that to my taste make overly alcoholic wine in our not necessarily as cool as you might imagine climate. I’m looking forward to walking the vineyard with Betty soon, so check back for more on that.
Grapes secured, I called Domaine Drouhin Oregon (DDO) to see if I could buy a used barrel or two. Many wineries get rid of old barrels this time of year, usually for a song. Bottling is happening and new barrels for the coming harvest are on the way or already delivered. Wineries need to free up space. Cellarmaster Aaron Bell said they had a bunch to unload, so I took two. One for winemaking, one for fun. The price was right.
DDO barrels are custom made by Francois Freres from wood bought by Drouhin at auction in France, aged at their estate in Burgundy for three years, then coopered by FF to specification. Most of the barrels are for Drouhin’s Burgundy production, with 120 or so sent to Oregon each year to cycle into production.
So yesterday I braved Friday afternoon traffic to drive out to Dundee on what was a Chamber-of-Commerce-approved, picture perfect day. Along the way, I saw some vineyards showing signs of recent hedging to reign in green growth and focus the vines on developing their tiny clusters of green fruit. On the back roads, I saw fields of fresh cut hay drying in sun and orchards of hazelnut trees. Then up Breyman Orchards Road to DDO high in the Dundee Hills.
Before heading down to the cellar, I had to taste quickly through the DDO line up. The ’04 Arthur Chardonnay was my favorite of the line up, not as minerally and tight as I recall some past vintages, but nicely fragrant and not overly toasty with hazelnut, green apple, and sweet cream flavors. Good balance and length, this is always a top Oregon Chardonnay. Maybe those Dijon clones aren’t so bad.
Then two reds, both quite aromatic but a bit boozy and thick to my taste. The 2003 Pinot Noir was really boozy, with a sulfury edge and an overly thick texture that shows the heat of ’03 was a challenge even for what are some of the higher elevation vineyards in this region. Not bad wine, but not what I’m looking for. Somewhat in contrast, the 2002 Pinot Noir Laurene showed more elegance and finesse, but again the texture was thick with alcohol though this wine didn’t show the same heat on the palate at the regular 2003. I would never pay what they ask for this wine; it is good but not so special.
Then down to the cellar to pick up the barrels. I get two 5-year-old beauties that smell fresh and clean and ready to give the nice, slow oxidation I want in barrel aging without imparting the oak flavors that new, expensive barrels give. We pop them into the back of my minivan and off I go, giddy with excitement for this fall.
But homebrewing always has its challenges. The lastest and yet unresolved? My new used barrels are too fat to get into my basement, so I now have my choice of projects: cut a new entrance to the basement? Ha, no. Convert the garage to a temperature-controlled barrel room? Perhaps. Or find another location to “home” brew? This might be the best solution of all if I can find somewhere close by that isn’t too costly.
At least I have a few more months to figure things out. By then I’ll probably be worried again about the weather. It’s always something.
So how does it taste? Better than ever, with a nice if simple perfume and fresh, tart flavors without complexity but also without defects. It’s competent wine, which is really my goal to this point. Can I take decent grapes and not screw them up? So far so good.
Which brings us to the coming harvest and my goal of finding really good grapes to make my best homebrew ever. Here in the northern Willamette Valley, the growing season so far has been a bit warmer than usual, with unusual June heat but a cooler if not actually cool July. From what I hear, mildew hasn’t materialized significantly in the vineyards despite a relatively humid spring. Flowering happened in mid-June with good weather, and crop set sounds like it’s above the past couple years, but not too large to worry much about getting everything ripe. Assuming the weather stays on track. We still have a ways to go.
What’s significant about crop set? After a lightish 2005 and a small crop in 2004, a better yield means homebrewers like me have more hope of finding quality grapes. So the other day I gave a call to Betty Wahle, who farms the well regarded Wahle Vineyard in the newly designated (or soon to be, can’t recall which) Yamhill-Carlton AVA. I had a terrific conversation with Betty, and I’ll be getting a ½ ton of Pinot Noir and a tiny bit of Chardonnay from her 30+ year old vines. Old clone stuff that I want, not the earlier ripening Dijon clones that to my taste make overly alcoholic wine in our not necessarily as cool as you might imagine climate. I’m looking forward to walking the vineyard with Betty soon, so check back for more on that.
Grapes secured, I called Domaine Drouhin Oregon (DDO) to see if I could buy a used barrel or two. Many wineries get rid of old barrels this time of year, usually for a song. Bottling is happening and new barrels for the coming harvest are on the way or already delivered. Wineries need to free up space. Cellarmaster Aaron Bell said they had a bunch to unload, so I took two. One for winemaking, one for fun. The price was right.
DDO barrels are custom made by Francois Freres from wood bought by Drouhin at auction in France, aged at their estate in Burgundy for three years, then coopered by FF to specification. Most of the barrels are for Drouhin’s Burgundy production, with 120 or so sent to Oregon each year to cycle into production.
So yesterday I braved Friday afternoon traffic to drive out to Dundee on what was a Chamber-of-Commerce-approved, picture perfect day. Along the way, I saw some vineyards showing signs of recent hedging to reign in green growth and focus the vines on developing their tiny clusters of green fruit. On the back roads, I saw fields of fresh cut hay drying in sun and orchards of hazelnut trees. Then up Breyman Orchards Road to DDO high in the Dundee Hills.
Before heading down to the cellar, I had to taste quickly through the DDO line up. The ’04 Arthur Chardonnay was my favorite of the line up, not as minerally and tight as I recall some past vintages, but nicely fragrant and not overly toasty with hazelnut, green apple, and sweet cream flavors. Good balance and length, this is always a top Oregon Chardonnay. Maybe those Dijon clones aren’t so bad.
Then two reds, both quite aromatic but a bit boozy and thick to my taste. The 2003 Pinot Noir was really boozy, with a sulfury edge and an overly thick texture that shows the heat of ’03 was a challenge even for what are some of the higher elevation vineyards in this region. Not bad wine, but not what I’m looking for. Somewhat in contrast, the 2002 Pinot Noir Laurene showed more elegance and finesse, but again the texture was thick with alcohol though this wine didn’t show the same heat on the palate at the regular 2003. I would never pay what they ask for this wine; it is good but not so special.
Then down to the cellar to pick up the barrels. I get two 5-year-old beauties that smell fresh and clean and ready to give the nice, slow oxidation I want in barrel aging without imparting the oak flavors that new, expensive barrels give. We pop them into the back of my minivan and off I go, giddy with excitement for this fall.
But homebrewing always has its challenges. The lastest and yet unresolved? My new used barrels are too fat to get into my basement, so I now have my choice of projects: cut a new entrance to the basement? Ha, no. Convert the garage to a temperature-controlled barrel room? Perhaps. Or find another location to “home” brew? This might be the best solution of all if I can find somewhere close by that isn’t too costly.
At least I have a few more months to figure things out. By then I’ll probably be worried again about the weather. It’s always something.
July 08, 2006
1990 Burgundies and more
So, would you like to attend a private dinner and tasting of some top examples of 1990 red Burgundy? I know I would.
But when this email invitation came from Craig Camp, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. Maybe he had the wrong guy.
I’d never met Craig, though I was familiar with him as a well-known internet personality. [Insert Troy McClure voice here.] You might remember him from the influential Italian wine and food blog vinocibo, his internet home during his three years in Piedmont. Now he’s back in the U.S. as general manager at Anne Amie Vineyards outside of Carlton, OR, and host of winecamp.
Craig had contacted me a few months ago with kind words about this modest site and an invitation to visit Anne Amie that I had yet to follow up on.
I suppose once in a while indolence has its rewards.
Turns out Doug Salthouse of Smart Buy Wine & Spirits in New Jersey was coming to town for this year’s Oregon Pinot Camp. Craig knows Doug, who, being a longtime Burgundy collector, shipped a case of 1990 premier and grand cru wines from A-list Cote d’Or producers from his personal cellar to share with people who’d appreciate them. Craig and the gang at Anne Amie thought they’d bring in Bistro Maison from McMinnville to put together a dinner, invite some other OPC visitors and local wine trade friends, and have a little fun.
Happily, Craig was nice enough to invite me.
So here’s the lowdown on what happened. First, I was not a paying guest, and tasting high end wines in this setting presents a unique critical challenge. How can you not love everything in the face of such generousity and such rarefied producers in a top vintage? If you like them, is it only because you should?
We’ll have to leave that unresolved. These were damn fine wines, not absolutely mindblowing but compelling and delicious. And the food was pretty good, too. If I enjoyed myself only because I was supposed to, fine with me.
We began with an attractive Oregon sparkler, the 1999 Soter Brut Rosé Beacon Hill. Then we turned our attention to the line up – 1990s all:
Volnay, Clos de Chenes, Domaine Michel Lafarge
Volnay, Santenots, Domaine de la Comtes Lafon
Corton, Domaine Cornu
Mazis Chambertin, Domaine Maume
Chambertin, Domaine Rousseau
Chambolle Musigny, Amoureuses, Domaine Roumier
Clos de la Roche, Domaine Georges Lignier
Vosne Romanee, Les Genevres, Leroy
Romanee St Vivant, Domaine de la Romanee Conti
Richbourg, Domaine Anne and Francois Gros
Overall the best wines showed more similarities than differences, due no doubt to the ripeness of the vintage. Burgundy purists complain that 1990 reds are too ripe, that the warmth of the growing season obscured the terrior expression in the wines.
No matter how you feel about that, these wines generally showed terrific purity and Burgundian character and lots of youth and vigor. Colors were generally dark and more youthful than mature. I think these wines generally have at least another decade until reaching full maturity. Some I expect will last much longer still. Of course there are exceptions.
Aromatically, the wines were very complex, without obtrusive oakiness and with beautifully integrated spicy, sous bois (that woodsy note you find in Burgundy) fragrance. Any of these wines would be delicious with dinner. All of them together was a little overwhelming. But we struggle.
Of the two Volnay, the Lafarge was a bit volatile and perhaps showing some medicinal character of brett, but I loved its aromatic complexity. The Lafon was more restrained, with great purity and fragrance.
The next two wines showed the least to me. The Corton was nice, spicy pinot noir that wasn’t too far from Oregon in profile, but a bit lost in this line up. The Chambertin was pretty and delicate, surely not bad wine, but fading in color and very soft and fragile in the mouth. If this bottle is representative, drink up while it’s still hanging around.
Then a complete change, the Mazis Chambertin from Maume. This wine provoked the first oohs and aahs of the evening, showing the ripeness of the vintage and the structure and heft that Maume is known for. Dark color, strapping aroma with more overt oakiness than the others (not in a bad way), full and rich on the palate with fine tannin, this is still a baby but already tastes really good.
Every Les Amoureuses I’ve had has showed grand cru quality, and this Roumier was no different. Terrific aroma, great intensity, and yet so graceful and light on its feet. I wish I had a cellar full of wines from this vineyard.
I was taking my time tasting through the wines, and ended up rushing with the Clos de la Roche from Lignier. My notes were scant, but this wine again showed great youth, power, and elegance, though it too was a bit lost in the line up for me.
Perhaps that’s due to the remaining wines. The Vosne Romanee Les Genevres showed Leroy purity, lacking only the depth of a grand cru. Spicy, woodsy aroma without obvious oakiness, just delicious. Again, such elegance for such a ripe wine.
The Romanee St Vivant from Domaine de la Romanee Conti might have been a bit of a letdown, only because of the impossibly high reputation of the producer and the amazing showing of the following wine. Still, beautifully floral with great length, just terrific.
And finally the Richbourg from A. et F. Gros. Darker than the other wines and just tremendous, perhaps with some life changing properties. What can you say about this one? It was simply the most impressive wine of the night, and darn tasty.
But that wasn’t all. We also had the following two bottles to cap things off:
1964 Charmes Chambertin, Remoissenet
1959 Vosne Romanee, 1er Cru, Les Malconsorts, Girard Giroud
The Charmes showed a youthful color, for a 42 year old wine that is. Immediately fragrant and pretty in the mouth, it showed more tea character with airing. In contrast, the Malconsorts was shy aromatically at first, but opened wonderfully, showing more maturity than the Charmes but with airing more sweetness and fullness. Neither wine needs more cellaring, but both will hang around for a while in a cold cellar.
Needless to say, I don’t usually drink so well. So thanks to Craig Camp for the invitation, and especially thanks to Doug Salthouse for providing such rare, and well cared for, wines. What a treat.
But when this email invitation came from Craig Camp, I wasn’t quite sure what to think. Maybe he had the wrong guy.
I’d never met Craig, though I was familiar with him as a well-known internet personality. [Insert Troy McClure voice here.] You might remember him from the influential Italian wine and food blog vinocibo, his internet home during his three years in Piedmont. Now he’s back in the U.S. as general manager at Anne Amie Vineyards outside of Carlton, OR, and host of winecamp.
Craig had contacted me a few months ago with kind words about this modest site and an invitation to visit Anne Amie that I had yet to follow up on.
I suppose once in a while indolence has its rewards.
Turns out Doug Salthouse of Smart Buy Wine & Spirits in New Jersey was coming to town for this year’s Oregon Pinot Camp. Craig knows Doug, who, being a longtime Burgundy collector, shipped a case of 1990 premier and grand cru wines from A-list Cote d’Or producers from his personal cellar to share with people who’d appreciate them. Craig and the gang at Anne Amie thought they’d bring in Bistro Maison from McMinnville to put together a dinner, invite some other OPC visitors and local wine trade friends, and have a little fun.
Happily, Craig was nice enough to invite me.
So here’s the lowdown on what happened. First, I was not a paying guest, and tasting high end wines in this setting presents a unique critical challenge. How can you not love everything in the face of such generousity and such rarefied producers in a top vintage? If you like them, is it only because you should?
We’ll have to leave that unresolved. These were damn fine wines, not absolutely mindblowing but compelling and delicious. And the food was pretty good, too. If I enjoyed myself only because I was supposed to, fine with me.
We began with an attractive Oregon sparkler, the 1999 Soter Brut Rosé Beacon Hill. Then we turned our attention to the line up – 1990s all:
Volnay, Clos de Chenes, Domaine Michel Lafarge
Volnay, Santenots, Domaine de la Comtes Lafon
Corton, Domaine Cornu
Mazis Chambertin, Domaine Maume
Chambertin, Domaine Rousseau
Chambolle Musigny, Amoureuses, Domaine Roumier
Clos de la Roche, Domaine Georges Lignier
Vosne Romanee, Les Genevres, Leroy
Romanee St Vivant, Domaine de la Romanee Conti
Richbourg, Domaine Anne and Francois Gros
Overall the best wines showed more similarities than differences, due no doubt to the ripeness of the vintage. Burgundy purists complain that 1990 reds are too ripe, that the warmth of the growing season obscured the terrior expression in the wines.
No matter how you feel about that, these wines generally showed terrific purity and Burgundian character and lots of youth and vigor. Colors were generally dark and more youthful than mature. I think these wines generally have at least another decade until reaching full maturity. Some I expect will last much longer still. Of course there are exceptions.
Aromatically, the wines were very complex, without obtrusive oakiness and with beautifully integrated spicy, sous bois (that woodsy note you find in Burgundy) fragrance. Any of these wines would be delicious with dinner. All of them together was a little overwhelming. But we struggle.
Of the two Volnay, the Lafarge was a bit volatile and perhaps showing some medicinal character of brett, but I loved its aromatic complexity. The Lafon was more restrained, with great purity and fragrance.
The next two wines showed the least to me. The Corton was nice, spicy pinot noir that wasn’t too far from Oregon in profile, but a bit lost in this line up. The Chambertin was pretty and delicate, surely not bad wine, but fading in color and very soft and fragile in the mouth. If this bottle is representative, drink up while it’s still hanging around.
Then a complete change, the Mazis Chambertin from Maume. This wine provoked the first oohs and aahs of the evening, showing the ripeness of the vintage and the structure and heft that Maume is known for. Dark color, strapping aroma with more overt oakiness than the others (not in a bad way), full and rich on the palate with fine tannin, this is still a baby but already tastes really good.
Every Les Amoureuses I’ve had has showed grand cru quality, and this Roumier was no different. Terrific aroma, great intensity, and yet so graceful and light on its feet. I wish I had a cellar full of wines from this vineyard.
I was taking my time tasting through the wines, and ended up rushing with the Clos de la Roche from Lignier. My notes were scant, but this wine again showed great youth, power, and elegance, though it too was a bit lost in the line up for me.
Perhaps that’s due to the remaining wines. The Vosne Romanee Les Genevres showed Leroy purity, lacking only the depth of a grand cru. Spicy, woodsy aroma without obvious oakiness, just delicious. Again, such elegance for such a ripe wine.
The Romanee St Vivant from Domaine de la Romanee Conti might have been a bit of a letdown, only because of the impossibly high reputation of the producer and the amazing showing of the following wine. Still, beautifully floral with great length, just terrific.
And finally the Richbourg from A. et F. Gros. Darker than the other wines and just tremendous, perhaps with some life changing properties. What can you say about this one? It was simply the most impressive wine of the night, and darn tasty.
But that wasn’t all. We also had the following two bottles to cap things off:
1964 Charmes Chambertin, Remoissenet
1959 Vosne Romanee, 1er Cru, Les Malconsorts, Girard Giroud
The Charmes showed a youthful color, for a 42 year old wine that is. Immediately fragrant and pretty in the mouth, it showed more tea character with airing. In contrast, the Malconsorts was shy aromatically at first, but opened wonderfully, showing more maturity than the Charmes but with airing more sweetness and fullness. Neither wine needs more cellaring, but both will hang around for a while in a cold cellar.
Needless to say, I don’t usually drink so well. So thanks to Craig Camp for the invitation, and especially thanks to Doug Salthouse for providing such rare, and well cared for, wines. What a treat.
June 28, 2006
My First Crush: Misadventures in Wine Country
I just finished reading My First Crush by Linda Kaplan, who until last year was the co-owner of Panther Creek winery here in Oregon. It’s a fun read, not the best wine book ever but perfectly worth your time. Especially if you’re looking to learn a bit about what really goes on in an Oregon winery.
Kaplan’s book details the tumultuous first year of operating a winery after her husband Ron somewhat suddenly took his wine passion to another level by purchasing the McMinnville business. That the Kaplans lived in Des Moines, IA, only complicated what would be a tough transition for almost anyone.
So Kaplan has plenty of stories to tell. The purchase, leaving Iowa and old friends, the journey west, arrival in Oregon, finding a place to live, the first harvest, wine tastings, wine dinners, making new friends and meeting old ones again.
Kaplan is an experienced writer, and she handles the book professionally. It’s not flashy, which is a plus. But it isn’t as poignant as I think she intended it to be. Still, she conveys the sensitivity of her transition to Oregon life well.
The book begins with a recipe for Pinot Noir. The story is that Kaplan, previously a white zinfandel drinker, couldn’t imagine the winery didn’t come with a recipe for making the wine. After all, good mid-western woman know that recipes are essential to success in food or beverage preparation.
The recipe symbolizes her initial naiveté about wine, which she overcomes with determination seemingly fueled by the angst felt by any50-something woman, a recent empty nester in an unfamiliar part of the country and business. The angst propels her to succeed in gaining wine knowledge and hosting savvy, the bread and butter of boutique winery owners.
Such that, in the end…well, why don’t you read it for yourself. Suffice it to say, I don’t share her appreciation for Panther Creek wines. But that’s beside the point. You can drink any Oregon wine with this book and have some fun.
You might even get the urge to sort grapes or, gasp, become a certified fork lift operator.
Kaplan’s book details the tumultuous first year of operating a winery after her husband Ron somewhat suddenly took his wine passion to another level by purchasing the McMinnville business. That the Kaplans lived in Des Moines, IA, only complicated what would be a tough transition for almost anyone.
So Kaplan has plenty of stories to tell. The purchase, leaving Iowa and old friends, the journey west, arrival in Oregon, finding a place to live, the first harvest, wine tastings, wine dinners, making new friends and meeting old ones again.
Kaplan is an experienced writer, and she handles the book professionally. It’s not flashy, which is a plus. But it isn’t as poignant as I think she intended it to be. Still, she conveys the sensitivity of her transition to Oregon life well.
The book begins with a recipe for Pinot Noir. The story is that Kaplan, previously a white zinfandel drinker, couldn’t imagine the winery didn’t come with a recipe for making the wine. After all, good mid-western woman know that recipes are essential to success in food or beverage preparation.
The recipe symbolizes her initial naiveté about wine, which she overcomes with determination seemingly fueled by the angst felt by any50-something woman, a recent empty nester in an unfamiliar part of the country and business. The angst propels her to succeed in gaining wine knowledge and hosting savvy, the bread and butter of boutique winery owners.
Such that, in the end…well, why don’t you read it for yourself. Suffice it to say, I don’t share her appreciation for Panther Creek wines. But that’s beside the point. You can drink any Oregon wine with this book and have some fun.
You might even get the urge to sort grapes or, gasp, become a certified fork lift operator.
June 26, 2006
Summer is Port time
Ah, summertime. It’s 100F out but I’m here in the cool basement thinking about Port. Typically thought of only in the cold winter months, Port is good any time of year.
Especially when a certain someone recently gifts you special Port glasses like mine did me. My new glasses are like tiny champagne flutes, only a bit wider in relation. They present wine in a pleasing way, though pretty much any glass will do.
Two wines I’ve enjoyed lately are predictably cheap, or should I say inexpensive. One more so than the other, though naturally it ain’t as good. And mind you, I’m writing about real Port, not the fake stuff from around the world labelled as such. Much of that can be quite good, but it’s not real Port even if they use the traditional grapes of Touriga Nacional and its Tinta friends.
First is the NV Broadbent Auction Reserve Lot 1, a blend of wines 4 to 7 years old that sells for $10 per 375ml. This is essentially ruby Port, a lighter, early drinking style of vintage Port without much of its grip or intensity.
The wine smells a bit alcoholic, but even the Broadbent Selectionsliterature admits so. And it seems to fit the rustic, traditional profile of the wine. Just serve it cool and you’ll be set. It has an otherwise pleasing aroma of preserved plums and spice, with simple but mouthfilling flavors, a bit sweet but balanced with light tannin and acidity. This is not refined port but it satisfies. It’s terrific patio or camping wine for drinking now.
Broadbent Selections labels the Auction Reserve from the well-regarded producer Niepoort, which makes my other recent favorite.
The 1998 Niepoort Late Bottled Vintage is "traditionally" bottled LBV but made in a more modern style than the Auction Reserve. Traditionally, LBVs are bottled 4 years after harvest where Vintage Port is bottled at 2 years. Both are intended to age in bottle, LBVs maturing sooner for their extended cask time and their realtively lighter intensity.
The ’98 Niepoort LBV has a dark purplish red color with a fresh fruit aroma, much like a modern Portugese table wine, mixed with nice pepper, spirit, and otherwise classic “Port” aromas. In the mouth, the wine is moderately sweet with grape, plum, light pepper and leather flavors, mild tannins and good length. If you don’t mind the more modern, grapey style, this wine is impressive. It’s a little over $20 for a 750ml bottle, and you might find a different vintage, but trust the producer. This is something you can cellar for a few years, or bring to a dinner party.
Even if it's 100 degrees. Who doesn't love someone who shows up with good Port?
Especially when a certain someone recently gifts you special Port glasses like mine did me. My new glasses are like tiny champagne flutes, only a bit wider in relation. They present wine in a pleasing way, though pretty much any glass will do.
Two wines I’ve enjoyed lately are predictably cheap, or should I say inexpensive. One more so than the other, though naturally it ain’t as good. And mind you, I’m writing about real Port, not the fake stuff from around the world labelled as such. Much of that can be quite good, but it’s not real Port even if they use the traditional grapes of Touriga Nacional and its Tinta friends.
First is the NV Broadbent Auction Reserve Lot 1, a blend of wines 4 to 7 years old that sells for $10 per 375ml. This is essentially ruby Port, a lighter, early drinking style of vintage Port without much of its grip or intensity.
The wine smells a bit alcoholic, but even the Broadbent Selectionsliterature admits so. And it seems to fit the rustic, traditional profile of the wine. Just serve it cool and you’ll be set. It has an otherwise pleasing aroma of preserved plums and spice, with simple but mouthfilling flavors, a bit sweet but balanced with light tannin and acidity. This is not refined port but it satisfies. It’s terrific patio or camping wine for drinking now.
Broadbent Selections labels the Auction Reserve from the well-regarded producer Niepoort, which makes my other recent favorite.
The 1998 Niepoort Late Bottled Vintage is "traditionally" bottled LBV but made in a more modern style than the Auction Reserve. Traditionally, LBVs are bottled 4 years after harvest where Vintage Port is bottled at 2 years. Both are intended to age in bottle, LBVs maturing sooner for their extended cask time and their realtively lighter intensity.
The ’98 Niepoort LBV has a dark purplish red color with a fresh fruit aroma, much like a modern Portugese table wine, mixed with nice pepper, spirit, and otherwise classic “Port” aromas. In the mouth, the wine is moderately sweet with grape, plum, light pepper and leather flavors, mild tannins and good length. If you don’t mind the more modern, grapey style, this wine is impressive. It’s a little over $20 for a 750ml bottle, and you might find a different vintage, but trust the producer. This is something you can cellar for a few years, or bring to a dinner party.
Even if it's 100 degrees. Who doesn't love someone who shows up with good Port?
June 17, 2006
Wherein bad wine is apparently good
Sometimes wine just makes me scratch me head. Despite the subjectivity of taste, I still think I know good wine from bad. But then I go and try something popular with the critics and subsequently the masses, and I feel completely lost and disconnected from my fellow humans.
Case in point - the 2004 Las Rocas de San Alejandro Garnacha. This is Spanish red wine made from the grenache grape, the king of the southern Rhone Valley in France and hardly anywhere else.
Along comes Spain, with seemingly endless tracts of old and young wine grenache that is allegedly - if you believe what you read - taking over the wine world with some of the best quality wine for the money anywhere.
Las Rocas, a co-op wine from the Calatayud region, has a few vintages of glowing reviews from the tastemaker himself, Robert Parker. Do a quick Google search and you'll find bloggers drooling over this stuff. So I see a bottle of the latest release for $10, which isn't as cheap as you can find this...wine elsewhere, and listen carefully the wine clerk's assurance, "I think you'll really like this wine," and toss a bottle in the grocery cart. Never mind that the clerk doesn't know anything about me or my taste in wine. Who needs to know any of that? This is good wine, everybody knows it, so naturally I'll enjoy it.
I get home and open the wine, pour a glass and notice a seemingly unnatural purple color. This is grenache, which even with the best producers tends to give a cherry red wine (if not something much lighter). But this wine looks more like motor oil, with an oily sheen and a violet tinge to the black/red color.
I smell the wine. Burnt rubber tires, stewed cherries and plums, pepper (this is grenache after all), and strange vegetal fruit syrup aromas. This is a winner - weirdest wine of the year, to date. What is this? Who did what to common grapes to end up with this? Can a wine smell harsh? This one does.
Reluctantly, I taste the wine. It's predictably sweet and fleshy, with warm alcohol and possibly a touch of residual sugar, cola flavors with berries, that vegetal syrup thing, more burnt rubber tires, low acid until a strange, false sense of acidity pokes holes in the revolting flavor, gracelessly but happily ending the experience.
I smell the wine again. It's still the same. I taste it again. No change.
Honestly, if I made this wine - and make no mistake, this wine is true creation - I would think it should be sold off in bulk. In winespeak, it's clearly reductive, which can go away with exposure to air. But it also seems to show mercapten, which isn't so easily reversible. Mercapten is the nasty stuff they put into odorless natural gas so you'll smell as gas leak. So that the smell is nasty enough that you'll do something about it. Quickly.
No, this is critically acclaimed wine recommended by wine retailers, resold by wine bloggers, and apparently loved by the masses. Great value, terrific QPR, back up the truck, buy it by the case.
But I'm left thirsty and in a foul mood for having wasted time and money on this wine. Not to mention the fracture in my soul for knowing such wines exist and that I clearly can't tell you what will appeal to the average person. So note that and read further entries in this journal accordingly. You've been warned.
Case in point - the 2004 Las Rocas de San Alejandro Garnacha. This is Spanish red wine made from the grenache grape, the king of the southern Rhone Valley in France and hardly anywhere else.
Along comes Spain, with seemingly endless tracts of old and young wine grenache that is allegedly - if you believe what you read - taking over the wine world with some of the best quality wine for the money anywhere.
Las Rocas, a co-op wine from the Calatayud region, has a few vintages of glowing reviews from the tastemaker himself, Robert Parker. Do a quick Google search and you'll find bloggers drooling over this stuff. So I see a bottle of the latest release for $10, which isn't as cheap as you can find this...wine elsewhere, and listen carefully the wine clerk's assurance, "I think you'll really like this wine," and toss a bottle in the grocery cart. Never mind that the clerk doesn't know anything about me or my taste in wine. Who needs to know any of that? This is good wine, everybody knows it, so naturally I'll enjoy it.
I get home and open the wine, pour a glass and notice a seemingly unnatural purple color. This is grenache, which even with the best producers tends to give a cherry red wine (if not something much lighter). But this wine looks more like motor oil, with an oily sheen and a violet tinge to the black/red color.
I smell the wine. Burnt rubber tires, stewed cherries and plums, pepper (this is grenache after all), and strange vegetal fruit syrup aromas. This is a winner - weirdest wine of the year, to date. What is this? Who did what to common grapes to end up with this? Can a wine smell harsh? This one does.
Reluctantly, I taste the wine. It's predictably sweet and fleshy, with warm alcohol and possibly a touch of residual sugar, cola flavors with berries, that vegetal syrup thing, more burnt rubber tires, low acid until a strange, false sense of acidity pokes holes in the revolting flavor, gracelessly but happily ending the experience.
I smell the wine again. It's still the same. I taste it again. No change.
Honestly, if I made this wine - and make no mistake, this wine is true creation - I would think it should be sold off in bulk. In winespeak, it's clearly reductive, which can go away with exposure to air. But it also seems to show mercapten, which isn't so easily reversible. Mercapten is the nasty stuff they put into odorless natural gas so you'll smell as gas leak. So that the smell is nasty enough that you'll do something about it. Quickly.
No, this is critically acclaimed wine recommended by wine retailers, resold by wine bloggers, and apparently loved by the masses. Great value, terrific QPR, back up the truck, buy it by the case.
But I'm left thirsty and in a foul mood for having wasted time and money on this wine. Not to mention the fracture in my soul for knowing such wines exist and that I clearly can't tell you what will appeal to the average person. So note that and read further entries in this journal accordingly. You've been warned.
June 16, 2006
Good, cheap nebbiolo
Lately I’ve been on a nebbiolo kick, and knowing my budget, it better be good and cheap. Which is a tall order for nebbiolo. Like pinot noir, nebbiolo is a tempermental grape that in the lesser spots and with lax farming tends to produce a lightly flavored, tart wine. Not awful wine, but not always very good, even with dinner.
But there are some little gems out there, some commonly available, others – like most good values – quite limited.
I’ve mentioned the Langhe Nebbiolo from Produttori du Barbaresco, which everybody mentions. It’s good, traditional nebbiolo with pretty fragrance though often lacking intensity if not tannin. This is wine for food and, even then, this isn’t easy, cozy wine. At $14 locally it’s a bargain in real Piemontese wine, if that’s your thing.
Then there’s the off vintage closeout, a whole ‘nother kettle of bargain. (I should write something about the major categories of wine values and which are the best...but that’s another day.)
I subscribe to the theory that good producers make good wine in most years. There are exceptions to every rule, and 2002 in Piemonte was apparently the most challenging harvest in a generation. Still, I’ve tried a few wines from the vintage and been impressed at what’s available at the low end.
Case in point – the 2002 Ugo Equio Langhe Nebbiolo. For $12 with discount, this wine is terrific. Apparently it’s declassified Barbaresco, probably blended with what lower end wine they could salvage from the rainy harvest. And it’s really quite good for the money.
It has a rich red color with a slightly orange rim, which is typcial for nebbiolo. It’s fragrant with classic nebiolo aromas of tar and flowers, and some balsamic notes. More rich than the Produttori ever is, but not modern and generic smelling. Then comes the tannin.
The flavors are ripe and interesting, but the tannin is strong in this wine. Clearly this is something to drink with a meal, or even cellar a couple years – not longer, even the best “bad year” wines tend to mature early.
This wine is lower in acidity, which purists won’t like. And it’s not Barbaresco because it’s coarse, lacking the refinement and texture of great Barbaresco but not necessarily lacking the flavor.
And for $12 and change, it’s a steal.
But there are some little gems out there, some commonly available, others – like most good values – quite limited.
I’ve mentioned the Langhe Nebbiolo from Produttori du Barbaresco, which everybody mentions. It’s good, traditional nebbiolo with pretty fragrance though often lacking intensity if not tannin. This is wine for food and, even then, this isn’t easy, cozy wine. At $14 locally it’s a bargain in real Piemontese wine, if that’s your thing.
Then there’s the off vintage closeout, a whole ‘nother kettle of bargain. (I should write something about the major categories of wine values and which are the best...but that’s another day.)
I subscribe to the theory that good producers make good wine in most years. There are exceptions to every rule, and 2002 in Piemonte was apparently the most challenging harvest in a generation. Still, I’ve tried a few wines from the vintage and been impressed at what’s available at the low end.
Case in point – the 2002 Ugo Equio Langhe Nebbiolo. For $12 with discount, this wine is terrific. Apparently it’s declassified Barbaresco, probably blended with what lower end wine they could salvage from the rainy harvest. And it’s really quite good for the money.
It has a rich red color with a slightly orange rim, which is typcial for nebbiolo. It’s fragrant with classic nebiolo aromas of tar and flowers, and some balsamic notes. More rich than the Produttori ever is, but not modern and generic smelling. Then comes the tannin.
The flavors are ripe and interesting, but the tannin is strong in this wine. Clearly this is something to drink with a meal, or even cellar a couple years – not longer, even the best “bad year” wines tend to mature early.
This wine is lower in acidity, which purists won’t like. And it’s not Barbaresco because it’s coarse, lacking the refinement and texture of great Barbaresco but not necessarily lacking the flavor.
And for $12 and change, it’s a steal.
June 01, 2006
Le Cadeau Vineyard, part two
After touring Le Cadeau Vineyard, Tom Moritmer and I went inside the small house he and Deb have built where we sampled some wine. As Tom opened and poured the 2002 Pinot Noir, he told me about the winemakers at Le Cadeau.
The first two vintages, 2002 and 2003, were made by Isabelle Dutartre, a French friend of Veronique Drouhin at Domain Drouhin Oregon. Isabelle previously worked for Drouhin here and in France, and is now winemaker for Deponte, a producer just below Domaine Drouhin in the southwestern end of the Dundee Hills. At Le Cadeau, she blended the entire vineyard in the Drouhin style, making a restrained and powerfully mineral wine.
The 2002 Le Cadeau Pinot Noir is a fragrant wine, with strong rocky aromas along with layers of ripe cherries, clove, and cinnamon. It smells distinctly Oregon with its ashy, earthy notes, but it’s uncommonly mineral and attractive for that. In the mouth it’s firm and young with good acidity, not yet revealing its richness. Some alcohol peeks through after a while, but it’s not bothersome. Along with the 2004 Grochau Cellar Pinot Noir, this is the most exciting Oregon wine I’ve had in some time. Just give it a few years.
To contrast, Tom poured the 2003 Le Cadeau Pinot Noir. This smells like boysenberries at first before relaxing to a lightly roasted, red raspberry aroma. There’s alcohol showing here but I’m more sensitive to that in Oregon wines than most drinkers it seems. In the mouth, it begins with good intensity amid the ripe fruit flavors, definitely some mineral tones in there, but over time the alcohol seems to overwhelm. If you don’t always serve red wine cool, do it with this one. It’s still more French in style than you tend to find in Oregon, with a restraint despite its size. But it simply has that roasted fruit of 2003. Still, it’s lush and I bet it’s an easier sell than the more stern 2002.
With 2004, everything in the cellar changes. Isabelle is out because she’s too busy with Deponte and others. And who comes in? Would you believe Harry Peterson-Nedry of Chehalem, Sam Francis and Cheryl Tannahill of Francis/Tannahill, and Josh Bergstrom of Bergstrom? Sort of a local dream team of winemakers, though stylistically different from each other and certainly different from Isabelle. The trio each makes their own bottling. And the vineyard goes to each winemaker in pieces, so no longer is Le Cadeau wine a blend of the property. Harry has the rockiest southwestern part, Sam and Cheryl have a few scattered blocks, including Deb’s block, and Josh has the eastern slope that gets lots of afternoon sunlight.
So Tom pulls out two of the three bottlings that will be released later this year. First is the 2004 Le Cadeau “Rocheaux” made by Harry. It’s young as you might expect, having been in bottle just a few weeks. Minerally, lightly peppery cherry aromas with firm acids reminding me of the 2002 without that wine’s earthiness. This is pretty wine, but it needs time to be more enjoyable. Should be good.
Then Tom opens the 2004 Le Cadeau “Cote Est” made by Josh. (By the way, the Francis/Tannahill bottling will be called “Diversité”.) This shows some sulfur dioxide at first, then a bacony, smokey oak aroma with ripe raspberries and some earthy, organic smells. It’s chewy on the palate from fine grape skin tannins, structured as Bergstrom-made wines tend to be but not outright oaky, almost Chateauneuf du Pape like with a roasted quality, pleasingly so as wine goes though not necessarily a compliment for Pinot Noir. Again, I think this will be very appealing wine, but it’s a little heavy handed for my tastes.
After tasting these wines, I’m struck by their minerality and certainly the overall quality of the vineyard and cellar work. This is a serious producer with some of the promising wines that I think will make a mark here in Oregon. My only concern is slight, and probably not shared by Tom and Deb. What to do with all the winemakers? In 2005, the trio from ’04 are back with Le Cadeau, and in ’06 Isabelle will return to make a fourth bottling. I asked Tom if he instructs them to make wine in a way for Le Cadeau, but he lets them do their thing. It shows in the wines, and while it’s admirable and probably what I’d do in his situation, maybe the hands of the different winemakers obscure the nuance of the vineyard. The dream team is fun and unique, and quality isn’t an issue here. But I wonder how the audience for Le Cadeau will respond to the different winemaker styles. And I wonder how sustainable the arrangement is. It wouldn’t be surprised to see one winemaker after a few more years, unless these talented and high profile winemakers continue to make time for what must be a labor of love for each.
In all, I had a terrific visit with Tom and greatly appreciated his time and information. I asked about the future, and Tom suggested there might be another label of non-estate wine. And with the potential for more plantings on the property, there might be some white wine might be in the mix someday. Whatever happens, keep your eye on Le Cadeau.
The first two vintages, 2002 and 2003, were made by Isabelle Dutartre, a French friend of Veronique Drouhin at Domain Drouhin Oregon. Isabelle previously worked for Drouhin here and in France, and is now winemaker for Deponte, a producer just below Domaine Drouhin in the southwestern end of the Dundee Hills. At Le Cadeau, she blended the entire vineyard in the Drouhin style, making a restrained and powerfully mineral wine.
The 2002 Le Cadeau Pinot Noir is a fragrant wine, with strong rocky aromas along with layers of ripe cherries, clove, and cinnamon. It smells distinctly Oregon with its ashy, earthy notes, but it’s uncommonly mineral and attractive for that. In the mouth it’s firm and young with good acidity, not yet revealing its richness. Some alcohol peeks through after a while, but it’s not bothersome. Along with the 2004 Grochau Cellar Pinot Noir, this is the most exciting Oregon wine I’ve had in some time. Just give it a few years.
To contrast, Tom poured the 2003 Le Cadeau Pinot Noir. This smells like boysenberries at first before relaxing to a lightly roasted, red raspberry aroma. There’s alcohol showing here but I’m more sensitive to that in Oregon wines than most drinkers it seems. In the mouth, it begins with good intensity amid the ripe fruit flavors, definitely some mineral tones in there, but over time the alcohol seems to overwhelm. If you don’t always serve red wine cool, do it with this one. It’s still more French in style than you tend to find in Oregon, with a restraint despite its size. But it simply has that roasted fruit of 2003. Still, it’s lush and I bet it’s an easier sell than the more stern 2002.
With 2004, everything in the cellar changes. Isabelle is out because she’s too busy with Deponte and others. And who comes in? Would you believe Harry Peterson-Nedry of Chehalem, Sam Francis and Cheryl Tannahill of Francis/Tannahill, and Josh Bergstrom of Bergstrom? Sort of a local dream team of winemakers, though stylistically different from each other and certainly different from Isabelle. The trio each makes their own bottling. And the vineyard goes to each winemaker in pieces, so no longer is Le Cadeau wine a blend of the property. Harry has the rockiest southwestern part, Sam and Cheryl have a few scattered blocks, including Deb’s block, and Josh has the eastern slope that gets lots of afternoon sunlight.
So Tom pulls out two of the three bottlings that will be released later this year. First is the 2004 Le Cadeau “Rocheaux” made by Harry. It’s young as you might expect, having been in bottle just a few weeks. Minerally, lightly peppery cherry aromas with firm acids reminding me of the 2002 without that wine’s earthiness. This is pretty wine, but it needs time to be more enjoyable. Should be good.
Then Tom opens the 2004 Le Cadeau “Cote Est” made by Josh. (By the way, the Francis/Tannahill bottling will be called “Diversité”.) This shows some sulfur dioxide at first, then a bacony, smokey oak aroma with ripe raspberries and some earthy, organic smells. It’s chewy on the palate from fine grape skin tannins, structured as Bergstrom-made wines tend to be but not outright oaky, almost Chateauneuf du Pape like with a roasted quality, pleasingly so as wine goes though not necessarily a compliment for Pinot Noir. Again, I think this will be very appealing wine, but it’s a little heavy handed for my tastes.
After tasting these wines, I’m struck by their minerality and certainly the overall quality of the vineyard and cellar work. This is a serious producer with some of the promising wines that I think will make a mark here in Oregon. My only concern is slight, and probably not shared by Tom and Deb. What to do with all the winemakers? In 2005, the trio from ’04 are back with Le Cadeau, and in ’06 Isabelle will return to make a fourth bottling. I asked Tom if he instructs them to make wine in a way for Le Cadeau, but he lets them do their thing. It shows in the wines, and while it’s admirable and probably what I’d do in his situation, maybe the hands of the different winemakers obscure the nuance of the vineyard. The dream team is fun and unique, and quality isn’t an issue here. But I wonder how the audience for Le Cadeau will respond to the different winemaker styles. And I wonder how sustainable the arrangement is. It wouldn’t be surprised to see one winemaker after a few more years, unless these talented and high profile winemakers continue to make time for what must be a labor of love for each.
In all, I had a terrific visit with Tom and greatly appreciated his time and information. I asked about the future, and Tom suggested there might be another label of non-estate wine. And with the potential for more plantings on the property, there might be some white wine might be in the mix someday. Whatever happens, keep your eye on Le Cadeau.
May 30, 2006
Le Cadeau Vineyard, part 1
I was fortunate enough to visit the other day with Tom Mortimer of Le Cadeau Vineyard on Parrett Mountain.
Tom and his wife Deb are unusual in Oregon wine because they live most of the year in Minneapolis, MN. Some years back Tom bought a company based in Dundee and fell in love with Oregon. With a serious wine hobby, it seemed logical to find land and plant a vineyard.
A long search ended at a very rocky southern exposure on Parrett Mountain, south of Newberg proper and just north of the Willamette River, which flows west to east here a short way before turning north again.
The land was a mess. The fir trees had largely been logged, with some notable exceptions. Maples, scotch broom, brambles and poison oak flourished. There wasn’t a view, much less anywhere to plant. But the Mortimers cleared the land, revealing a gorgeous view and seriously rocky soil on which to “create the environment” they wanted.
Much of the northern Willamette Valley vineyards are planted in deep but infertile soils where the roots may never reach the bedrock. There are some areas with shallower soils, but I haven’t seen anything like the bare rock in the vineyards of Parrett Mountain. Chunks of fractured basalt at the surface, with a foot or two of soil in places north and east, but essentially bare rock to the west and south. It’s not the white and grey limestone of Burgundy, it’s rusty red Oregon basalt and it’s beautiful.
Planting was more than challenging in the unforgiving ground. As you go west, you notice the senic wooden trellis posts giving way to metal bars that are the only things able to penetrate the rock. The result is a slow growing vineyard, with smaller vines that produce grapes that seem to show the mineral flavor of the site.
The vineyard itself is a mix of rootstocks and clones, all the Dijon regulars and Pommard, along with the little known Mariafeld clone from Switzerland that produces a large, blackfruited wine. The elevation ranges from 610 to 725 feet, on the higher side for Oregon but still well within the norm.
Plantings were in 1999 and 2002, with additional plans for the uncleared ravine to the southwest. It’s a steep, rocky site that could be terrific if not expensive. But the entire project has been expensive, which led to the name “Black Hole Vineyard” that you don't see on the wine bottles.
How's the wine, you ask? Next time.
Tom and his wife Deb are unusual in Oregon wine because they live most of the year in Minneapolis, MN. Some years back Tom bought a company based in Dundee and fell in love with Oregon. With a serious wine hobby, it seemed logical to find land and plant a vineyard.
A long search ended at a very rocky southern exposure on Parrett Mountain, south of Newberg proper and just north of the Willamette River, which flows west to east here a short way before turning north again.
The land was a mess. The fir trees had largely been logged, with some notable exceptions. Maples, scotch broom, brambles and poison oak flourished. There wasn’t a view, much less anywhere to plant. But the Mortimers cleared the land, revealing a gorgeous view and seriously rocky soil on which to “create the environment” they wanted.
Much of the northern Willamette Valley vineyards are planted in deep but infertile soils where the roots may never reach the bedrock. There are some areas with shallower soils, but I haven’t seen anything like the bare rock in the vineyards of Parrett Mountain. Chunks of fractured basalt at the surface, with a foot or two of soil in places north and east, but essentially bare rock to the west and south. It’s not the white and grey limestone of Burgundy, it’s rusty red Oregon basalt and it’s beautiful.
Planting was more than challenging in the unforgiving ground. As you go west, you notice the senic wooden trellis posts giving way to metal bars that are the only things able to penetrate the rock. The result is a slow growing vineyard, with smaller vines that produce grapes that seem to show the mineral flavor of the site.
The vineyard itself is a mix of rootstocks and clones, all the Dijon regulars and Pommard, along with the little known Mariafeld clone from Switzerland that produces a large, blackfruited wine. The elevation ranges from 610 to 725 feet, on the higher side for Oregon but still well within the norm.
Plantings were in 1999 and 2002, with additional plans for the uncleared ravine to the southwest. It’s a steep, rocky site that could be terrific if not expensive. But the entire project has been expensive, which led to the name “Black Hole Vineyard” that you don't see on the wine bottles.
How's the wine, you ask? Next time.
May 28, 2006
Oregon Winery Visits
Memorial Day weekend is traditionally the time, along with Thanksgiving, that Willamette Valley wineries open to the public. But I’m sick this weekend and I don’t really like the crowds and traffic anyway, so here’s a recap of some winery visits earlier this month when crowds were low and the roads clear.
We started at Chehalem, which was holding their annual Pinot Noir “best barrel” event. They selected, naturally, what they think is the “best” barrel in the cellar of each of their three vineyards from 2005 for tasting and purchase. The barrels will be bottled separately. The idea is you’ll get the wine exactly from the barrels you tried.
In theory, it’s interesting. But barrel samples are hard to gague, and the whole notion of a “best barrel” seems hokey. Sure, winemakers always have their “best barrels” but selling that to the public seems to me to undermine the whole “wine as a common beverage” thing.
Still, it was a nice chance to taste 2005 Pinot Noir. The Corral Creek was the only heavily oaked wine, with spicy caramel and red fruits. Hopefully they’ll rack this wine into neutral oak until bottling to keep the oak level in check. The Ridgecrest was nicely peppery with signature black fruit and spice. But this wine still has to finish malolactic fermentation, so it will change considerably before bottling. The Stoller was brighter than usual, showing perhaps the cool harvest. Very nice overall, love the balance and loamy, cherry fruit.
From bottle, we also taste the 2004 Cerise, a mostly Gamay and Pinot Noir blend. Delicious, peppery with cool red fruit, very easy to drink. The 2004 3 Vineyard Pinot Noir was a bit wan, just soft and dull today. And the 2004 Corral Creek Pinot Noir lacked the verve of the Cerise and the 2005s.
Chehalem isn’t open to the public regularly, so this was a nice chance to visit the property. But it seems like more and more producers are opening up to the public, and some are building some pretty significant tasting rooms. So we thought we’d check out Penner-Ash’s new place, a big winery on a previously uncharted hill (wine-wise) surrounded by a new estate vineyard.
The wines are equally large-scaled as the facility. Oddly enough, the 2005 Roseo was my favorite wine. Dry, crisp rose with perfume and nerve, surprisingly good. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley fits the house style. Big and rich flavors with a polished texture and just the proper amount of spicy oak for an entry level wine at $40. The 2003 Syrah was not so oaky but not terribly varietal. And the 2004 Rubeo, a blend of more Pinot Noir and less Syrah was more Pinot Noir like, oaky with typcial polish. These are impressive wines, so that our guests loved them. But I find them too flawless, glossy rather than toned and too oak influenced. And the prices don't help, at least for this shopper.
Then on to Bergstrom, another new tasting room that is less grand than Penner-Ash but not less pricey. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley was good with spicy red fruit. The 2004 Cumberland Reserve was tannic and chewy, more to the house style here. Even more backward was the 2004 Broadley Vineyard, from Monroe in the southern Willamette Valley. Very dark, monolithic with that’s all structure now. Hard to say where a wine like this will end up, but I wouldn’t count on resolution. The 2004 de Lancelotti, the “estate” vineyard around the modest winery on sedimentary soils, had the most unique aroma, with anise and grass, very interesting but tight on the palate, another wine that needs time to show what it has. Finally, the 2004 Bergstrom Vineyard from the Red Hills, just above the Le Pavillon vineyard on the top of a knoll above Worden Hill Road. The was softer and more fragrant, as you would expect the Red Hills to be, cherries, oak spice, less tannic than the others and tasty. But worth $70? Not to me, but the small crowd seemed sold. I can’t argue with that.
So that was the day. Stay tuned for part two of my recent adventures, a visit to Le Cadeau Vineyard on Parrett Mountain.
We started at Chehalem, which was holding their annual Pinot Noir “best barrel” event. They selected, naturally, what they think is the “best” barrel in the cellar of each of their three vineyards from 2005 for tasting and purchase. The barrels will be bottled separately. The idea is you’ll get the wine exactly from the barrels you tried.
In theory, it’s interesting. But barrel samples are hard to gague, and the whole notion of a “best barrel” seems hokey. Sure, winemakers always have their “best barrels” but selling that to the public seems to me to undermine the whole “wine as a common beverage” thing.
Still, it was a nice chance to taste 2005 Pinot Noir. The Corral Creek was the only heavily oaked wine, with spicy caramel and red fruits. Hopefully they’ll rack this wine into neutral oak until bottling to keep the oak level in check. The Ridgecrest was nicely peppery with signature black fruit and spice. But this wine still has to finish malolactic fermentation, so it will change considerably before bottling. The Stoller was brighter than usual, showing perhaps the cool harvest. Very nice overall, love the balance and loamy, cherry fruit.
From bottle, we also taste the 2004 Cerise, a mostly Gamay and Pinot Noir blend. Delicious, peppery with cool red fruit, very easy to drink. The 2004 3 Vineyard Pinot Noir was a bit wan, just soft and dull today. And the 2004 Corral Creek Pinot Noir lacked the verve of the Cerise and the 2005s.
Chehalem isn’t open to the public regularly, so this was a nice chance to visit the property. But it seems like more and more producers are opening up to the public, and some are building some pretty significant tasting rooms. So we thought we’d check out Penner-Ash’s new place, a big winery on a previously uncharted hill (wine-wise) surrounded by a new estate vineyard.
The wines are equally large-scaled as the facility. Oddly enough, the 2005 Roseo was my favorite wine. Dry, crisp rose with perfume and nerve, surprisingly good. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley fits the house style. Big and rich flavors with a polished texture and just the proper amount of spicy oak for an entry level wine at $40. The 2003 Syrah was not so oaky but not terribly varietal. And the 2004 Rubeo, a blend of more Pinot Noir and less Syrah was more Pinot Noir like, oaky with typcial polish. These are impressive wines, so that our guests loved them. But I find them too flawless, glossy rather than toned and too oak influenced. And the prices don't help, at least for this shopper.
Then on to Bergstrom, another new tasting room that is less grand than Penner-Ash but not less pricey. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley was good with spicy red fruit. The 2004 Cumberland Reserve was tannic and chewy, more to the house style here. Even more backward was the 2004 Broadley Vineyard, from Monroe in the southern Willamette Valley. Very dark, monolithic with that’s all structure now. Hard to say where a wine like this will end up, but I wouldn’t count on resolution. The 2004 de Lancelotti, the “estate” vineyard around the modest winery on sedimentary soils, had the most unique aroma, with anise and grass, very interesting but tight on the palate, another wine that needs time to show what it has. Finally, the 2004 Bergstrom Vineyard from the Red Hills, just above the Le Pavillon vineyard on the top of a knoll above Worden Hill Road. The was softer and more fragrant, as you would expect the Red Hills to be, cherries, oak spice, less tannic than the others and tasty. But worth $70? Not to me, but the small crowd seemed sold. I can’t argue with that.
So that was the day. Stay tuned for part two of my recent adventures, a visit to Le Cadeau Vineyard on Parrett Mountain.
May 26, 2006
Zinfandel tasting
My tasting group met again recently to taste Zinfandel, so hot in the 1990s but taking more of a back seat in wine circles these days in favor of Syrah.
I love good Zinfandel, a grape that gives about as widely varying wines as you’ll find. And I’m not immediately put off by high alcohol Zinfandel as I am, for example, with Pinot Noir. Like with southern Rhone reds, sometimes a little warmth can add to the exuberance of Zinfandel, which really shouldn’t ever be shy. With a bucket of ribs, nothing beats a big Zin.
With that in mind, I completely enjoyed this tasting even when the wines weren’t exactly elegant or graceful.
We tasted five wines blind, the first being the 2003 Carol Shelton “Wild Thing” from the Cox Vineyard in Mendocino County. Dark ruby violet in color, it showed a fumey, coconutty, waxy red berry aroma, the most obviously oaked wine in the bunch. In the mouth, full bodied with wood tannin and charred berry fruit, maybe a hint of residual sugar. Graceful? No. Elegant? No. Something I’d buy and cellar? No. But with that bucket of ribs, yes. My least favorite here and still worthwhile. Note that the “wild” part is natural yeast fermentation, which didn’t give out until the wine reached more than 15% alcohol.
Next came an older dark ruby wine, with minty brambly zinberry aromas, the mint giving a high-toned component to the perfume. Silky in the mouth, round and mature, not terribly deep but elegant with bright acids and delicious. This was the 1996 Ridge Geyserville, an old vine blend of around 75% Zinfandel and the rest Petite Sirah, Carignane, and Mataro (Mourvedre). Interesting thing about this wine, on release it was quite oaky and not “classic” Ridge. But a few years have yielded a wonderfully integrated old vine wine, classically California.
The third wine was more mature but not old looking, with a muted aroma at first. Then fresher fruit, some volatility but nice complexity, I rated this first on the aroma alone. In the mouth, it’s finely tannic with bright red berry flavors, winey with good length and an integrated feel. This was the 1996 Ravenswood Monte Rosso Vineyard from Louis Martini’s old Sonoma Valley property.
The next wine was the darkest, with a youthful dark red violet color and a sweet, pie filling aroma. Buttery oak, waxy smelling with some pleasant youthful herbaceousness amid the superripe quailities. Big, ripe and round in the mouth, with grape tannin and some obvious alcohol, chewy and tannic but nicely done if a touch overoaked. This was the 2003 Dashe Dry Creek Valley, made by Mike Dashe, formerly of Ridge, who’s made some Zinfandel I’ve perferred more than this one.
Last was a ringer of sorts, the younger vine 2003 Maryhill Zinfandel from the Columbia Valley in Washington state. The cheapest of the lot, but not at all out of class here. Dark ruby with a positiviely huge black pepper aroma, with sweet pie filling and dry herb aroma, all very interesting. Jammy, even a bit goopy but with good tannic structure and even some grapefruity acid that might be added (or not) but seemed well integrated either way. Not bad at all, another good one for a bucket of ribs.
To cap the evening, we tried a half bottle blind. Turbid with sediment with some maturity and a fragrant, ripe but restrained slightly raisiny, spicy aroma. Mildly sweet on the palate with nice balance and concentration, overall a terrific late harvest zinfandel without any volatility. It turns out to be the 1993 Ridge Essence, from the Dusi Ranch in Paso Robles if memory serves.
In sum, a terrific evening of fun, loud wines that’s rekindled my love for Zinfandel. You should try some too.
I love good Zinfandel, a grape that gives about as widely varying wines as you’ll find. And I’m not immediately put off by high alcohol Zinfandel as I am, for example, with Pinot Noir. Like with southern Rhone reds, sometimes a little warmth can add to the exuberance of Zinfandel, which really shouldn’t ever be shy. With a bucket of ribs, nothing beats a big Zin.
With that in mind, I completely enjoyed this tasting even when the wines weren’t exactly elegant or graceful.
We tasted five wines blind, the first being the 2003 Carol Shelton “Wild Thing” from the Cox Vineyard in Mendocino County. Dark ruby violet in color, it showed a fumey, coconutty, waxy red berry aroma, the most obviously oaked wine in the bunch. In the mouth, full bodied with wood tannin and charred berry fruit, maybe a hint of residual sugar. Graceful? No. Elegant? No. Something I’d buy and cellar? No. But with that bucket of ribs, yes. My least favorite here and still worthwhile. Note that the “wild” part is natural yeast fermentation, which didn’t give out until the wine reached more than 15% alcohol.
Next came an older dark ruby wine, with minty brambly zinberry aromas, the mint giving a high-toned component to the perfume. Silky in the mouth, round and mature, not terribly deep but elegant with bright acids and delicious. This was the 1996 Ridge Geyserville, an old vine blend of around 75% Zinfandel and the rest Petite Sirah, Carignane, and Mataro (Mourvedre). Interesting thing about this wine, on release it was quite oaky and not “classic” Ridge. But a few years have yielded a wonderfully integrated old vine wine, classically California.
The third wine was more mature but not old looking, with a muted aroma at first. Then fresher fruit, some volatility but nice complexity, I rated this first on the aroma alone. In the mouth, it’s finely tannic with bright red berry flavors, winey with good length and an integrated feel. This was the 1996 Ravenswood Monte Rosso Vineyard from Louis Martini’s old Sonoma Valley property.
The next wine was the darkest, with a youthful dark red violet color and a sweet, pie filling aroma. Buttery oak, waxy smelling with some pleasant youthful herbaceousness amid the superripe quailities. Big, ripe and round in the mouth, with grape tannin and some obvious alcohol, chewy and tannic but nicely done if a touch overoaked. This was the 2003 Dashe Dry Creek Valley, made by Mike Dashe, formerly of Ridge, who’s made some Zinfandel I’ve perferred more than this one.
Last was a ringer of sorts, the younger vine 2003 Maryhill Zinfandel from the Columbia Valley in Washington state. The cheapest of the lot, but not at all out of class here. Dark ruby with a positiviely huge black pepper aroma, with sweet pie filling and dry herb aroma, all very interesting. Jammy, even a bit goopy but with good tannic structure and even some grapefruity acid that might be added (or not) but seemed well integrated either way. Not bad at all, another good one for a bucket of ribs.
To cap the evening, we tried a half bottle blind. Turbid with sediment with some maturity and a fragrant, ripe but restrained slightly raisiny, spicy aroma. Mildly sweet on the palate with nice balance and concentration, overall a terrific late harvest zinfandel without any volatility. It turns out to be the 1993 Ridge Essence, from the Dusi Ranch in Paso Robles if memory serves.
In sum, a terrific evening of fun, loud wines that’s rekindled my love for Zinfandel. You should try some too.
May 19, 2006
Reading about Oregon wine
Did you notice the big feature on Oregon wine yesterday in the weekly Wine section of the San Francisco Chronicle? It’s worth a read.
Smart of the Chron to get local guy Cole Danehauer to write the piece. Cole writes for the online Oregon Wine Report. He does a good job here conveying the latest happenings in the Willamette Valley to an audience outside Oregon.
Also, today I noticed the latest issue of the Oregon Wine Press magazine, newly redesigned (sort of) after being acquired by News-Register Publishing in McMinnville, down in Yamhill County.
Turns out OWP’s founding operators had to suddenly back away from the business early this year, but the new owner is keeping the publication open with Hilary Berg as managing editor.
The first issue, May 2006, is mostly listings for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend winery fest. But even the scant few articles put together apparently in very short time suggest a brighter future for this fun but probably too folksy publication.
Out with the bizarre if occasionally brilliant interviews and periodic rants about Oregon wine marketing. In perhaps with more consistent coverage of what’s really going on in Oregon wine production, though hopefully without any wine country lifestyle drivel.
And not Oregon related, but I get the Wine Spectator and can you believe that there’s a letter in the latest issue (June 15, 2006) from Kermit Lynch congratulating the publication on its 30th anniversary. He even writes something like “I can’t imagine the wine world without Wine Spectator.”
I don’t know what to make of it, but I couldn’t miss mentioning it. Is he joking?
Smart of the Chron to get local guy Cole Danehauer to write the piece. Cole writes for the online Oregon Wine Report. He does a good job here conveying the latest happenings in the Willamette Valley to an audience outside Oregon.
Also, today I noticed the latest issue of the Oregon Wine Press magazine, newly redesigned (sort of) after being acquired by News-Register Publishing in McMinnville, down in Yamhill County.
Turns out OWP’s founding operators had to suddenly back away from the business early this year, but the new owner is keeping the publication open with Hilary Berg as managing editor.
The first issue, May 2006, is mostly listings for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend winery fest. But even the scant few articles put together apparently in very short time suggest a brighter future for this fun but probably too folksy publication.
Out with the bizarre if occasionally brilliant interviews and periodic rants about Oregon wine marketing. In perhaps with more consistent coverage of what’s really going on in Oregon wine production, though hopefully without any wine country lifestyle drivel.
And not Oregon related, but I get the Wine Spectator and can you believe that there’s a letter in the latest issue (June 15, 2006) from Kermit Lynch congratulating the publication on its 30th anniversary. He even writes something like “I can’t imagine the wine world without Wine Spectator.”
I don’t know what to make of it, but I couldn’t miss mentioning it. Is he joking?
May 15, 2006
The best $6 red there is
Although I'm hardly the first to say it, the Italian wine producer Masciarelli makes what might be the best $6 (or so) red wine there is.
The latest vintage of their estate bottled Montepulciano d'Abruzzo is the 2002, a rainy harvest in much of Italy that might lead one to believe this wine isn't worth your time if not the few dollars it costs.
But don't be fooled. This might be the best of many years of Masciarelli Montepulciano that I've tried. Consistently rich and fragrant, with a depth that wine two or three times the price hopes for.
Typically this wine is "food" wine, meaning it's not a little bit crisp and tannic. Yet this year's model, while rustic as usual, has an elegance that makes it good with or without dinner.
Most people will call this wine "pizza" wine, suitable only for simple fare. But pop this in a decanter and tell me if it doesn't smell something like a higher grade Tuscan red, and a good one too. I'd serve this with any sort of roasted meat or musroom ragu. Or pizza if you must.
The latest vintage of their estate bottled Montepulciano d'Abruzzo is the 2002, a rainy harvest in much of Italy that might lead one to believe this wine isn't worth your time if not the few dollars it costs.
But don't be fooled. This might be the best of many years of Masciarelli Montepulciano that I've tried. Consistently rich and fragrant, with a depth that wine two or three times the price hopes for.
Typically this wine is "food" wine, meaning it's not a little bit crisp and tannic. Yet this year's model, while rustic as usual, has an elegance that makes it good with or without dinner.
Most people will call this wine "pizza" wine, suitable only for simple fare. But pop this in a decanter and tell me if it doesn't smell something like a higher grade Tuscan red, and a good one too. I'd serve this with any sort of roasted meat or musroom ragu. Or pizza if you must.
May 07, 2006
Oregon whites
For all the attention paid to Pinot Noir, the northern Willamette Valley produces some terrific white wines. Not all of them Chardonnay, by the way. I tried a few recently that are worth mentioning.
The first was the 2003 Brooks Amycas, a kitchen sink blend that turned out very well. And it’s still going strong. Mostly Pinot Gris and Riesling with some Gewurztraminer, it’s very Gewurz-like with a floral, spicy muscatty aroma and a lightly alcoholic, sweet lychee flavor. This I believe was from the late Jimi Brooks’ last harvest, a nice if simple tribute to him.
Next came the 2004 J. Christopher Sauvignon Blanc Croft Vineyard. Sauvignon Blanc isn’t that common in the Willamette Valley, but with the warmer years recently it seems like a nice prospect for the future. The wine didn’t show nearly as well as some months back, when it was bright and grassy and simply delicious. This night it seemed muted but still tasty. I imagine the 2005 will out soon, I’d look for that one.
Finally the 2004 Francis Tannahill Gewurztraminer Dragonfly, from the Dragonfly vineyard in the Columbia River Gorge east of Portland. This was alcoholic at first and a bit stinky, though fresh and oily rich on the palate. But night two the wine really shined. It smelled sweet like a light dessert wine and tasted viscous and rich, lacking only acidity as the grape does notoriously. This isn’t my first choice for the dinner table, but it’s interesting wine and worth trying if you looking for something off the beaten path.
The first was the 2003 Brooks Amycas, a kitchen sink blend that turned out very well. And it’s still going strong. Mostly Pinot Gris and Riesling with some Gewurztraminer, it’s very Gewurz-like with a floral, spicy muscatty aroma and a lightly alcoholic, sweet lychee flavor. This I believe was from the late Jimi Brooks’ last harvest, a nice if simple tribute to him.
Next came the 2004 J. Christopher Sauvignon Blanc Croft Vineyard. Sauvignon Blanc isn’t that common in the Willamette Valley, but with the warmer years recently it seems like a nice prospect for the future. The wine didn’t show nearly as well as some months back, when it was bright and grassy and simply delicious. This night it seemed muted but still tasty. I imagine the 2005 will out soon, I’d look for that one.
Finally the 2004 Francis Tannahill Gewurztraminer Dragonfly, from the Dragonfly vineyard in the Columbia River Gorge east of Portland. This was alcoholic at first and a bit stinky, though fresh and oily rich on the palate. But night two the wine really shined. It smelled sweet like a light dessert wine and tasted viscous and rich, lacking only acidity as the grape does notoriously. This isn’t my first choice for the dinner table, but it’s interesting wine and worth trying if you looking for something off the beaten path.
Grochau Cellars Pinot Noir
Surfing the web the other day, I came across this piece on Grochau Cellars from last year on NPR’s business program Marketplace.
Grochau Cellars is one of many upstart wineries in the northern Willamette Valley. John Grochau is the man behind the curtain here, a former assistant at Brick House as well as sommelier at the terrific Portland restaurant Higgins. The winery isn’t paying the bills for John, yet. You can still find him working a few nights a week at the restaurant.
But it seems like only a matter of time before that goes away, based on what I’ve tried.
I first heard about John from my neighbors who’ve known him for years, back when they were bike mechanics well versed in tune ups and safety breaks.
The first Grochau wine I tried was a very small production “negociant” wine John bought in bulk and blended for a friend’s wedding. Some went to the wedding, some went to local stores simply labelled as “Red” for about $10. This Bordeaux-blend from eastern Washington wasn’t distinguished, but was pretty nice drinking for the price. Apparently John’s coming out with a larger production follow up soon.
But the main wine for Grochau Cellars so far is the Pinot Noir. At Higgins recently we ordered a bottle of the ’04 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, and I have to say this is the most exciting Oregon Pinot Noir I’ve tried in a while. Deep but translucent in color, this has terrific fragrace – perfumed red and black cherries with subtle oak spice and a distinctive mineral note, very well integrated and pretty but wound so that time should only reveal more nuance.
In the mouth this wine is elegant but rich, flavory without heaviness, just the quality I look for in red wine. It’s not so complex as it is pretty, with light tannin and fresh acidity that should hold the wine together for years. The first bottle was emptied quickly, and a second ordered without hesitation. Had I been served this blind, I might have guessed this was from Evesham Wood, perhaps my favorite Oregon producer.
The best part? I think this retails for $24 or so, and it can be found for less. It’s $35 on the Higgins list, which is still quite a deal in top flight Oregon Pinot Noir. 2004 was a small harvest, and Grochau Cellars doesn’t make much wine. But I’ve seen past vintages at major retailers outside Oregon, so it is out there if you do some digging.
More soon after I set up a visit with this exciting new discovery.
Grochau Cellars is one of many upstart wineries in the northern Willamette Valley. John Grochau is the man behind the curtain here, a former assistant at Brick House as well as sommelier at the terrific Portland restaurant Higgins. The winery isn’t paying the bills for John, yet. You can still find him working a few nights a week at the restaurant.
But it seems like only a matter of time before that goes away, based on what I’ve tried.
I first heard about John from my neighbors who’ve known him for years, back when they were bike mechanics well versed in tune ups and safety breaks.
The first Grochau wine I tried was a very small production “negociant” wine John bought in bulk and blended for a friend’s wedding. Some went to the wedding, some went to local stores simply labelled as “Red” for about $10. This Bordeaux-blend from eastern Washington wasn’t distinguished, but was pretty nice drinking for the price. Apparently John’s coming out with a larger production follow up soon.
But the main wine for Grochau Cellars so far is the Pinot Noir. At Higgins recently we ordered a bottle of the ’04 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, and I have to say this is the most exciting Oregon Pinot Noir I’ve tried in a while. Deep but translucent in color, this has terrific fragrace – perfumed red and black cherries with subtle oak spice and a distinctive mineral note, very well integrated and pretty but wound so that time should only reveal more nuance.
In the mouth this wine is elegant but rich, flavory without heaviness, just the quality I look for in red wine. It’s not so complex as it is pretty, with light tannin and fresh acidity that should hold the wine together for years. The first bottle was emptied quickly, and a second ordered without hesitation. Had I been served this blind, I might have guessed this was from Evesham Wood, perhaps my favorite Oregon producer.
The best part? I think this retails for $24 or so, and it can be found for less. It’s $35 on the Higgins list, which is still quite a deal in top flight Oregon Pinot Noir. 2004 was a small harvest, and Grochau Cellars doesn’t make much wine. But I’ve seen past vintages at major retailers outside Oregon, so it is out there if you do some digging.
More soon after I set up a visit with this exciting new discovery.
Stoller’s new LEED-certified winery
The scene – a gorgeous Oregon spring day, and I found myself touring the newly opened winery at Stoller Vineyards. The facility is solar powered with features and workspace that are embarassingly attractive.
Stoller is located on the southwestern most flank of the Dundee Hills. It’s a former turkey ranch with premium southern exposure, and a steeper upper slope than I previously realized. Along with the deep but low fertility Jory soils and volcanic basalt geology, this is certainly one of the most ideal sites in the northern Willamette Valley.
The Stollers are partners in Chelalem winery in Newberg, long the source of the most visible Stoller vineyard Pinot Noir in the market. But over the past few years, the Stollers have produced their own label, initially at Chelalem but now in this sparkling new facility just below the vineyard.
The crushpad and fermentation room are the ground and top floor of the foursquare facility. (If there’s any criticism to make, it would be about the fairly bland outward appearance. But that’s picking nits.) Inside there’s a line of stainless steel fermentors, 3- and 5-ton varieties, elevated between tracks that can hold equipment for crushing straight into the vats or doing mechanical punchdowns. Very nice on the shoulders and back.
There’s a middle level below the fermentation room where pressed wine can settle before moving to barrels below, and space for case wine storage. To bottom level is the cave, with multiple barrel storage rooms carved between the load bearing walls. That allows the red wine barrels to be kept cool while other space is warmed when necessary for white wine barrel fermentation. There’s no having to do it all in one open space like you find in many other facilities.
After the barrel rooms came the solar power set up. Apparently the facility captures enough sun-energy to power 40% of the winery at maximum usage. Most of the time they feed power back to the grid, so the facility uses substantially less commercial energy than it ordinarily would.
The office and lab space was impressive, as was the stylish – perhaps too much so – tasting room. In short, the facility looks like terrific place to produce wine. And winemaker Melissa Burr, formerly of Cooper Mountain, seems like the whole package.
How are the wines? Commercially very good. Not terribly distinctive, and not my favorite wines, but well make, fairly priced, and most certainly good drinking.
The ’04 Chardonnay is plump and toasty but not overdone and retaining some fresh acidity. The ’04 “JV” Pinot Noir is designed to drink young. It’s bright and fruity, almost candied, but pleasantly earthy with a touch of sulfur that should go away.
The main wine is the ’03 Pinot Noir, which is ripe but not as ripe as I would have guessed from such a warm vintage. Stoller vineyard is a warm site with a low elevation in the lowest blocks. But this ’03 was pretty attractive, with some alcohol and generic toastiness along with distinctive turned earth aromas mixing with the signature macerated cherries. Very attractive wine that won’t be hard to sell, despite the uninspiring label design.
All in all, the site is top notch, the facility is top notch, and the wines are safe but good in their way. What if this producer really broke out and produced something of more intensity without quite the heft? Is that possible in this warm-site vineyard? Time will tell as the producer grows into its new facility. But so far, so good.
Stoller is located on the southwestern most flank of the Dundee Hills. It’s a former turkey ranch with premium southern exposure, and a steeper upper slope than I previously realized. Along with the deep but low fertility Jory soils and volcanic basalt geology, this is certainly one of the most ideal sites in the northern Willamette Valley.
The Stollers are partners in Chelalem winery in Newberg, long the source of the most visible Stoller vineyard Pinot Noir in the market. But over the past few years, the Stollers have produced their own label, initially at Chelalem but now in this sparkling new facility just below the vineyard.
The crushpad and fermentation room are the ground and top floor of the foursquare facility. (If there’s any criticism to make, it would be about the fairly bland outward appearance. But that’s picking nits.) Inside there’s a line of stainless steel fermentors, 3- and 5-ton varieties, elevated between tracks that can hold equipment for crushing straight into the vats or doing mechanical punchdowns. Very nice on the shoulders and back.
There’s a middle level below the fermentation room where pressed wine can settle before moving to barrels below, and space for case wine storage. To bottom level is the cave, with multiple barrel storage rooms carved between the load bearing walls. That allows the red wine barrels to be kept cool while other space is warmed when necessary for white wine barrel fermentation. There’s no having to do it all in one open space like you find in many other facilities.
After the barrel rooms came the solar power set up. Apparently the facility captures enough sun-energy to power 40% of the winery at maximum usage. Most of the time they feed power back to the grid, so the facility uses substantially less commercial energy than it ordinarily would.
The office and lab space was impressive, as was the stylish – perhaps too much so – tasting room. In short, the facility looks like terrific place to produce wine. And winemaker Melissa Burr, formerly of Cooper Mountain, seems like the whole package.
How are the wines? Commercially very good. Not terribly distinctive, and not my favorite wines, but well make, fairly priced, and most certainly good drinking.
The ’04 Chardonnay is plump and toasty but not overdone and retaining some fresh acidity. The ’04 “JV” Pinot Noir is designed to drink young. It’s bright and fruity, almost candied, but pleasantly earthy with a touch of sulfur that should go away.
The main wine is the ’03 Pinot Noir, which is ripe but not as ripe as I would have guessed from such a warm vintage. Stoller vineyard is a warm site with a low elevation in the lowest blocks. But this ’03 was pretty attractive, with some alcohol and generic toastiness along with distinctive turned earth aromas mixing with the signature macerated cherries. Very attractive wine that won’t be hard to sell, despite the uninspiring label design.
All in all, the site is top notch, the facility is top notch, and the wines are safe but good in their way. What if this producer really broke out and produced something of more intensity without quite the heft? Is that possible in this warm-site vineyard? Time will tell as the producer grows into its new facility. But so far, so good.
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