The tasting group met a few weeks back to sample Reisling.from Mosel-Saar-Ruwer producer Reichsgraff von Kesselstatt.
I had tried a few things from this house over the years and always liked the wines, but had never tasted more than one at a time. Tonight, we knew the producer but nothing more about the wines. So I was particularly excited to taste through a range of Reichsgraff wines to see what I thought without any other information about vintage, vineyard, or pradikat (Kabinett, Spatlese, ...).
The first wine was light straw colored with a fresh aroma of petrol, apples, and orange blossom. Its flavors were pure and sweet, with grapefruit notes. Not complex and not terribly long, but nice, young riesling. This was the 2003 Brauneburger Juffer-Sonnenuhr Auslese “Fuder 02” Lange Goldkapsul. AP 52 04
Then a light gold, figgy smelling thing with brown apple, sort of plasticy aromas. And saffron. This is very interesting wine. Rich and thick in the mouth, obviously auslese with older apple, spiced jelly candy, and mineral flavors, I loved the purity and length here. This was the 1999 Brauneberge Juffer-Sonnenuhr Riesling Auslese Lange Goldkapsul, AP 19 00.
Third, a similar aroma to second wine but with less botrytis on the aroma and a more tangy profile in the mouth. Sweet petrol, slate, and figgy apple flavors, even red currants, this was very good and only just behind the last wine. This was the 1999 Wehlener Sonnenuhr Auslese Lange Goldkapsul, AP 68 00.
The fourth wine poured a bit fizzy, but that cleared up. Light gold in color with a strange aroma initially with butter and mint jelly. But just when I thought it might be damaged, it turned pure and tasty if simple. Fairly sweet in the mouth with tangy acid and a nice pretty, moderately sweet flavor, lacking only complexity. This was the 1999 Scharzhofberger Auslese Lange Goldkapsul, AP 58 00. I should note that this wine was the only non-Mosel wine, coming from the Saar River Valley. I wrongly and boorishly “corrected” the very woman who provided these wines, assuring her they were all from the Mosel. I hate when that happens.
The fifth wine was possibly corked and certainly flawed. Positively frothy when poured, this was a complete mess. Too bad, it was the 1999 Bernkasteler Doctor Auslese Lange Goldkapsul.
Finally, an older wine. Moderately gold with a killer red currant aroma, almost strawberry in a way that only German Rieslings seem to show. Deep aromatically but still light and elegant. This smelled wonderful. But in the mouth it was lighter bodied with a slightly bitter grapefruit pith quality, balanced by sweet baked apple flavors. This was nice but not great, certainly worth drinking but not as special as you might hope. It was the 1988 Piesporter Goldtropfchen Auslese, AP 18 89.
In sum, these Reichsgraf von Kesselstatt wines were delicious but perhaps not the highest quality of Riesling out there. However, these wines represent tremendous value. And happily, here in Oregon, Lemma Wine Company brings in a wide variety of this producer’s wines at attractive prices.
March 22, 2007
March 07, 2007
It Is Alive
Spring’s not quite here, though spring did unofficially start here in western Oregon last week when we said our last goodbyes to February. Which means things should be happening in the wine cellar as ambient temperatures rise and the new wine from last fall comes back to life.
What things, you ask? Why, malolactic fermentation of course.
Geeks know that “ml” is that still sort of mysterious process where malic acid is broken down into lactic acid, turning a sharply acidic, young wine into something more mature with a softer, rounder texture. Not to mention a slight spritz, as the wine gives off carbon dioxide in the process.
These days, ml typcially happens during or shortly after primary fermentation just after harvest. Wineries tend to innoculate for ml with a special strain of bacteria that quickly and predictably completes the process, free of any delay or worry. The idea is that bad things can happen if ml doesn’t finish quickly. But not everyone agrees with that.
In the old days, ml happened naturally, typically in the spring when young wine slowly warmed up after the cold winter and resumed its chemical activity. The thinking was that, as the sap rose in the vines, the prior year’s wine would return to life in a symbiotic way to finish primary fermentation. No one knew for sure about ml until the early 20th century, and winemakers were certainly surprised to find that a bacteria, otherwise considered the enemy of quality wine, would play such an important and useful role in creating great wine.
Science has since shown us that the ml process won’t happen when the temperature is too cold. So if you don’t innoculate for ml and keep your wine cold over the winter, you can live like the ancients and let your wine complete ml naturally. No additives, no rushing, just natural winemaking. Many wineries still do it this way, but even more will look at you funny at the notion of letting a wine go through ml on its own. Are you crazy?
Well, maybe. It’s true, things can always go wrong if you don’t assert your control over every aspect of the winemaking process. But things can go wrong if you do. And plenty of great wine (perhaps most) was and is made with a hands off approach, so I’m trying my best to experiment with that route and see what I learn.
So you can imagine my delight after pulling the bung on my one barrel of 2006 Pinot Noir from the Wahle Vineyard to do my regular topping and noticing, and then hearing, a slight sparkle in the wine. I’ve been waiting for this moment, partly in fear that it would ever come, but mostly not sure when. That is, how warm would it need to be to reactivate the wine?
Turns out that, after a winter where my barrel was in the 40s down to the upper 30s, a creep into the 50s was just enough to get ml going. Which is great, because that’s still a low enough temperature to keep the wine fresh but obviously not too cold for renewed activity. The wine tastes a bit fizzy but otherwise shows no ill effects of ml so far.
In the next few months, I expect the wine to turn a bit cloudy and taste a bit metallic as ml completes. Then things should settle back down and the truly finished wine will emerge during the summer.
So far, so good. An enologist friend of mine wondered if I knew precisely which strain of ml bacteria was working in the wine. I have no idea, and I don’t really care. So far, things have gone well. And if the ancients could make wine this way, I don’t see why I can’t too.
What things, you ask? Why, malolactic fermentation of course.
Geeks know that “ml” is that still sort of mysterious process where malic acid is broken down into lactic acid, turning a sharply acidic, young wine into something more mature with a softer, rounder texture. Not to mention a slight spritz, as the wine gives off carbon dioxide in the process.
These days, ml typcially happens during or shortly after primary fermentation just after harvest. Wineries tend to innoculate for ml with a special strain of bacteria that quickly and predictably completes the process, free of any delay or worry. The idea is that bad things can happen if ml doesn’t finish quickly. But not everyone agrees with that.
In the old days, ml happened naturally, typically in the spring when young wine slowly warmed up after the cold winter and resumed its chemical activity. The thinking was that, as the sap rose in the vines, the prior year’s wine would return to life in a symbiotic way to finish primary fermentation. No one knew for sure about ml until the early 20th century, and winemakers were certainly surprised to find that a bacteria, otherwise considered the enemy of quality wine, would play such an important and useful role in creating great wine.
Science has since shown us that the ml process won’t happen when the temperature is too cold. So if you don’t innoculate for ml and keep your wine cold over the winter, you can live like the ancients and let your wine complete ml naturally. No additives, no rushing, just natural winemaking. Many wineries still do it this way, but even more will look at you funny at the notion of letting a wine go through ml on its own. Are you crazy?
Well, maybe. It’s true, things can always go wrong if you don’t assert your control over every aspect of the winemaking process. But things can go wrong if you do. And plenty of great wine (perhaps most) was and is made with a hands off approach, so I’m trying my best to experiment with that route and see what I learn.
So you can imagine my delight after pulling the bung on my one barrel of 2006 Pinot Noir from the Wahle Vineyard to do my regular topping and noticing, and then hearing, a slight sparkle in the wine. I’ve been waiting for this moment, partly in fear that it would ever come, but mostly not sure when. That is, how warm would it need to be to reactivate the wine?
Turns out that, after a winter where my barrel was in the 40s down to the upper 30s, a creep into the 50s was just enough to get ml going. Which is great, because that’s still a low enough temperature to keep the wine fresh but obviously not too cold for renewed activity. The wine tastes a bit fizzy but otherwise shows no ill effects of ml so far.
In the next few months, I expect the wine to turn a bit cloudy and taste a bit metallic as ml completes. Then things should settle back down and the truly finished wine will emerge during the summer.
So far, so good. An enologist friend of mine wondered if I knew precisely which strain of ml bacteria was working in the wine. I have no idea, and I don’t really care. So far, things have gone well. And if the ancients could make wine this way, I don’t see why I can’t too.
March 04, 2007
More Wine, Admiral?
So after the initial Beaujolais tasting, there were “post pours” of broad assortment, again all tasted blind.
First a gummy Beaujolais smelling wine with nice raspberry fruit and more of the granite soil character. Tannic and full in the mouth, nice drinking sooner than later. This was the 2005 Domaine Vissoux Beaujolais Cuvee Traditionale V.V., the only non-Cru Beaujolais of the evening. Quite nice for something like $10.
Then another wine with a similar profile, but only deeper with a nice pepper note to the aroma. It’s nice, full and rich Beaujolais for sure, better than the first by a step. It’s the 2005 Vissoux Moulin-a-Vent Les Deux Roches.
Then something much older, with a mature color and gorgeous bottle sweet aromas of red fruit and sous bois, with a touch of volatility that suggests drinking sooner than later. This is the 1986 Leroy Nuits St. Georges.
To match, another old wine that looks a bit older than the previous but only slightly so. A smokey cherry, aged aroma that needs time to open preceeds the silky, spicy old pinot noir flavor. A little eggy and volatile, again I’d drink this up. It’s the 1986 Reine Redauque Corton Renards. Someone suggested it showed its Grand Cru terroir, but I didn’t think so. Still a nice mature Burgundy.
Then something I thought was certainly from the southern Rhone valley in France, probably Gigondas. A younger color compared to the previous two but still maturing. Bottle sweet with cherries, red raspberries, and a floral, herbal musky quality to the aroma. Maturing flavors with a forest floor quality that got me thinking of the mourvedre grape. But no, it’s the 1994 Adelsheim Elizabeth’s Reserve Pinot Noir from here in the northern Willamette Valley of Oregon. It was a warm vintage and it shows, but nice if you can get by the lack of “pinosity.”
Not that we needed more to taste, even with the spitting. My mouth was wearing out. But I had already opened my contribution, something I wrongly heard was drinking well. This looks no different than it did on release five years ago, young and purplish red. It’s peppery scented with grape and raspberry aromas, really nice but again hardly aged. Then the wall of tannin, with unevolved raspberry and a slightly metal quality on the finish, hold this indefinitely but still I like it. This is the 1999 Clos Roche Blanche Cot Touraine, otherwise known as malbec from the Loire valley.
Oh, but then there was dessert. First something figgy with botrytis and pure pear and apple fruit, clean and sweet smelling. In the mouth it was thick and rich with fair acid but good enough balance, pretty yummy dessert wine. I didn’t get much riesling character, but others thought it to be classic. Go figure. This was the 2005 Kerpen Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Auslese***.
Then something controversial, which some thought corked or otherwise faulty. I didn’t like the mothball quality, to be sure, but otherwise this was nice spicy smelling wine with golden raisins and lychees and then thick and rich flavors of honey, flowers and pears, with nice length. This was the 1999 Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu “Les Rouannieres.”
The next wine probably should have come sooner, it was light colored with a pure, light clean rainwater aroma. It was only moderately sweet, and a bit jarring after the previous two, but obviously nice wine. It was the 2003 Pierre Frick Sylvaner Bergweingarten Vin Moelleux from Alsace.
Finally, an amber colored, sherried or ranico smelled wine with nut skins and spent coffee grounds. Rich and sweet flavored, with more sherry notes, dried oranges and such. This is ok, but seems a little disjointed and a bit harsh. It’s the 1990 Joliette Rivesaltes Ambré, in a fancy 500ml bottle. Not bad mind you, but a little tough though better honestly when you know what it is. No one ever said Rivesaltes produced subtle wine.
First a gummy Beaujolais smelling wine with nice raspberry fruit and more of the granite soil character. Tannic and full in the mouth, nice drinking sooner than later. This was the 2005 Domaine Vissoux Beaujolais Cuvee Traditionale V.V., the only non-Cru Beaujolais of the evening. Quite nice for something like $10.
Then another wine with a similar profile, but only deeper with a nice pepper note to the aroma. It’s nice, full and rich Beaujolais for sure, better than the first by a step. It’s the 2005 Vissoux Moulin-a-Vent Les Deux Roches.
Then something much older, with a mature color and gorgeous bottle sweet aromas of red fruit and sous bois, with a touch of volatility that suggests drinking sooner than later. This is the 1986 Leroy Nuits St. Georges.
To match, another old wine that looks a bit older than the previous but only slightly so. A smokey cherry, aged aroma that needs time to open preceeds the silky, spicy old pinot noir flavor. A little eggy and volatile, again I’d drink this up. It’s the 1986 Reine Redauque Corton Renards. Someone suggested it showed its Grand Cru terroir, but I didn’t think so. Still a nice mature Burgundy.
Then something I thought was certainly from the southern Rhone valley in France, probably Gigondas. A younger color compared to the previous two but still maturing. Bottle sweet with cherries, red raspberries, and a floral, herbal musky quality to the aroma. Maturing flavors with a forest floor quality that got me thinking of the mourvedre grape. But no, it’s the 1994 Adelsheim Elizabeth’s Reserve Pinot Noir from here in the northern Willamette Valley of Oregon. It was a warm vintage and it shows, but nice if you can get by the lack of “pinosity.”
Not that we needed more to taste, even with the spitting. My mouth was wearing out. But I had already opened my contribution, something I wrongly heard was drinking well. This looks no different than it did on release five years ago, young and purplish red. It’s peppery scented with grape and raspberry aromas, really nice but again hardly aged. Then the wall of tannin, with unevolved raspberry and a slightly metal quality on the finish, hold this indefinitely but still I like it. This is the 1999 Clos Roche Blanche Cot Touraine, otherwise known as malbec from the Loire valley.
Oh, but then there was dessert. First something figgy with botrytis and pure pear and apple fruit, clean and sweet smelling. In the mouth it was thick and rich with fair acid but good enough balance, pretty yummy dessert wine. I didn’t get much riesling character, but others thought it to be classic. Go figure. This was the 2005 Kerpen Wehlener Sonnenuhr Riesling Auslese***.
Then something controversial, which some thought corked or otherwise faulty. I didn’t like the mothball quality, to be sure, but otherwise this was nice spicy smelling wine with golden raisins and lychees and then thick and rich flavors of honey, flowers and pears, with nice length. This was the 1999 Pierre Bise Coteaux du Layon Beaulieu “Les Rouannieres.”
The next wine probably should have come sooner, it was light colored with a pure, light clean rainwater aroma. It was only moderately sweet, and a bit jarring after the previous two, but obviously nice wine. It was the 2003 Pierre Frick Sylvaner Bergweingarten Vin Moelleux from Alsace.
Finally, an amber colored, sherried or ranico smelled wine with nut skins and spent coffee grounds. Rich and sweet flavored, with more sherry notes, dried oranges and such. This is ok, but seems a little disjointed and a bit harsh. It’s the 1990 Joliette Rivesaltes Ambré, in a fancy 500ml bottle. Not bad mind you, but a little tough though better honestly when you know what it is. No one ever said Rivesaltes produced subtle wine.
March 03, 2007
2005 Cru Beaujolais
After running into some old friends at the afternoon Produttori tasting, I happily attended their group’s 2005 Cru Beaujolais tasting that night.
We started with two blind whites, the first something I was able to pick out after tasting and noting it here recently. The 2005 J.M. Raffault Chinon Blanc was again nice if not stellar. It’s more sauvignon in character than chenin, but it’s a good value.
The second white was hard to pick. I started at a ripe, dry Loire chenin blanc. But someone else guessed southern Rhone white and I immediately agreed. Straw colored, ripe and nicely precise but still bold and rich mostly roussane wine. This turned out to be the 2002 Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape blanc, probably picked before the rain and quite good.
Then six 2005 Cru Beaujolais tasted blind, all “Cru” bottlings meaning coming from vineyards in any of the ten most respected villages, all of them adjacent to one another in the northern part of the Beaujolais region. Overall, these were excellent examples of gamay, all fresh and clean but with terrific earthiness balancing the sweet fruit. I would happily drink and probably cellar any of these for the five to ten years.
All the wines were deep ruby purple in color. The first was the most overtly sweet smelling of the bunch, purple fruited, focused with dark earth noties in time. Finely tannic in the mouth with gummy raspberry and lightly spicy fruit flavors, sterner with time but still lush and fruity. This was the Joel Rochette Regnie Cuvee des Braves Vieilles Vignes.
Second, a more raw smelling, broader even a little buttery fragrance, probably the least fruity of the lot. Crisp acid with fine tannin, red raspberry fruit, nice but hard edged through the finish, needs time. This is the Domaine Diochon Moulin-a-Vent V.V.
Then another dark, cleanly earth smelling wine with deep rich black fruit. In the mouth, this one has softer acid, fine tannins like the others, some gummy fruit like the first wine, in the words of our host, “big and lucious.” This was the Laurent Gauthier “Chatenay” Chiroubles V.V.
The fourth wine was a bit odd at first, with pasty dough and some alcohol, but opened to show more earthy but clean complixty. In the mouth, it’s finely tannic, even hard with a slight herbal edge, peppery and leaner than the others but still good if not my favorite. This was the Clos de la Roilette Fleury, and when it was unveiled I thought I should have known this one. Very typical to my expeience with this producer.
Fifth, a nicely earthy with sweet fruit but a savory, beguiling element to its fragrance that I loved. Again, finely tannic with nice red and black fruit, crisp acids, this is a focused, precise wine with a nice taste of the soil. I wrote that I “love” it so I shouldn’t have been surprised to find it was the Champs-Grillés St. Amour, my first time tasting wine from this village of love.
Finally, a peppery wine with more soil and black fruit aromas. In the mouth, this was big and rich with fine tannin, slightly gummy ripe fruit but that signature earthiness of Beaujolais, really nice but more stern with time. This was the Pascal Aufranc Juliénas.
All in all, these are pretty ripe for the appellation but just terrific wine. For their largely sub-$20 prices, they are extremely worthwhile. We had some roasted chicken after tasting though these blind, and every wine just tasted terrific with the food. I just sat there and marvelled at how much I liked all of them.
Of course, I had to pick a favorite with this group and was then mocked for choosing the Champs-Grillés.
Now, where’s the love?
We started with two blind whites, the first something I was able to pick out after tasting and noting it here recently. The 2005 J.M. Raffault Chinon Blanc was again nice if not stellar. It’s more sauvignon in character than chenin, but it’s a good value.
The second white was hard to pick. I started at a ripe, dry Loire chenin blanc. But someone else guessed southern Rhone white and I immediately agreed. Straw colored, ripe and nicely precise but still bold and rich mostly roussane wine. This turned out to be the 2002 Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape blanc, probably picked before the rain and quite good.
Then six 2005 Cru Beaujolais tasted blind, all “Cru” bottlings meaning coming from vineyards in any of the ten most respected villages, all of them adjacent to one another in the northern part of the Beaujolais region. Overall, these were excellent examples of gamay, all fresh and clean but with terrific earthiness balancing the sweet fruit. I would happily drink and probably cellar any of these for the five to ten years.
All the wines were deep ruby purple in color. The first was the most overtly sweet smelling of the bunch, purple fruited, focused with dark earth noties in time. Finely tannic in the mouth with gummy raspberry and lightly spicy fruit flavors, sterner with time but still lush and fruity. This was the Joel Rochette Regnie Cuvee des Braves Vieilles Vignes.
Second, a more raw smelling, broader even a little buttery fragrance, probably the least fruity of the lot. Crisp acid with fine tannin, red raspberry fruit, nice but hard edged through the finish, needs time. This is the Domaine Diochon Moulin-a-Vent V.V.
Then another dark, cleanly earth smelling wine with deep rich black fruit. In the mouth, this one has softer acid, fine tannins like the others, some gummy fruit like the first wine, in the words of our host, “big and lucious.” This was the Laurent Gauthier “Chatenay” Chiroubles V.V.
The fourth wine was a bit odd at first, with pasty dough and some alcohol, but opened to show more earthy but clean complixty. In the mouth, it’s finely tannic, even hard with a slight herbal edge, peppery and leaner than the others but still good if not my favorite. This was the Clos de la Roilette Fleury, and when it was unveiled I thought I should have known this one. Very typical to my expeience with this producer.
Fifth, a nicely earthy with sweet fruit but a savory, beguiling element to its fragrance that I loved. Again, finely tannic with nice red and black fruit, crisp acids, this is a focused, precise wine with a nice taste of the soil. I wrote that I “love” it so I shouldn’t have been surprised to find it was the Champs-Grillés St. Amour, my first time tasting wine from this village of love.
Finally, a peppery wine with more soil and black fruit aromas. In the mouth, this was big and rich with fine tannin, slightly gummy ripe fruit but that signature earthiness of Beaujolais, really nice but more stern with time. This was the Pascal Aufranc Juliénas.
All in all, these are pretty ripe for the appellation but just terrific wine. For their largely sub-$20 prices, they are extremely worthwhile. We had some roasted chicken after tasting though these blind, and every wine just tasted terrific with the food. I just sat there and marvelled at how much I liked all of them.
Of course, I had to pick a favorite with this group and was then mocked for choosing the Champs-Grillés.
Now, where’s the love?
February 28, 2007
Produttori di Barbaresco 2001s
On the heels of the Vietti Lazzarito tasting, Aldo Vacca of Produttori di Barbaresco came to town for another tasting at Pastaworks.
You might remember two years back, when I almost literally stumbled into a free tasting of the 2000s at this landmark spot. This year I planned ahead, and despite a staggering $5 tasting fee, managed to enjoy a sampling of 2001 Produttori di Barbaresco Riservas.
Aldo first poured the Rio Sordo, a lighter, pepper and cherry scented wine with nice floral elements. Aldo suggested this was the most approachable now, but the fierce tannin suggests to me it needs time. This is only ok.
Then came the Pora, a richer, redder fruited wine with more intensity that better matches the tannic structure than the Rio Sordo. This should age well but isn’t showing so pretty today. It’s certainly the more impressive of the first two wines.
Aldo then poured the Ovello, in another league from the first two with terrific depth and a cassis-tinged fragrance. In the mouth it’s chewy with more prominent fruit balancing the structure, I really liked this wine. It’s rich and ripe, but very precise.
Finally, the Montestefano, not Chateauneuf-like as I remember the 2000, rather Burgundian if you can believe it. Ripe Burgundy for sure, think macerated cherries with woodsy fragrance that speaks to me of both Italy and France. Still tannic as nebbiolo can be, I liked this but preferred the elegance of the Ovello just a bit more.
But wait, there’s Peter de Garmo of Pastaworks with a bonus pour, the 1990 Produttori di Barbaresco Montestefano. What a difference 11 years makes. This is classic Barbaresco, maturing with truffe aromas and terrific bottle sweetness already, yet still tannic and wound up on the palate. There’s great length and mature flavors, but the structure requires food or perhaps more time, though the aroma and flavor suggest this should be ready to go. Still, lovely stuff.
What a lovely tasting, made better by my running into a couple of old friends who invited me to a tasting of 2005 Cru Beaujolais, which I’ll report on soon. It turned out to be the best tasting I’ve been to in a while, with numerous wines I really enjoyed.
You might remember two years back, when I almost literally stumbled into a free tasting of the 2000s at this landmark spot. This year I planned ahead, and despite a staggering $5 tasting fee, managed to enjoy a sampling of 2001 Produttori di Barbaresco Riservas.
Aldo first poured the Rio Sordo, a lighter, pepper and cherry scented wine with nice floral elements. Aldo suggested this was the most approachable now, but the fierce tannin suggests to me it needs time. This is only ok.
Then came the Pora, a richer, redder fruited wine with more intensity that better matches the tannic structure than the Rio Sordo. This should age well but isn’t showing so pretty today. It’s certainly the more impressive of the first two wines.
Aldo then poured the Ovello, in another league from the first two with terrific depth and a cassis-tinged fragrance. In the mouth it’s chewy with more prominent fruit balancing the structure, I really liked this wine. It’s rich and ripe, but very precise.
Finally, the Montestefano, not Chateauneuf-like as I remember the 2000, rather Burgundian if you can believe it. Ripe Burgundy for sure, think macerated cherries with woodsy fragrance that speaks to me of both Italy and France. Still tannic as nebbiolo can be, I liked this but preferred the elegance of the Ovello just a bit more.
But wait, there’s Peter de Garmo of Pastaworks with a bonus pour, the 1990 Produttori di Barbaresco Montestefano. What a difference 11 years makes. This is classic Barbaresco, maturing with truffe aromas and terrific bottle sweetness already, yet still tannic and wound up on the palate. There’s great length and mature flavors, but the structure requires food or perhaps more time, though the aroma and flavor suggest this should be ready to go. Still, lovely stuff.
What a lovely tasting, made better by my running into a couple of old friends who invited me to a tasting of 2005 Cru Beaujolais, which I’ll report on soon. It turned out to be the best tasting I’ve been to in a while, with numerous wines I really enjoyed.
February 25, 2007
Vietti Barolo Lazzarito Tasting
The tasting group has reformed now that harvest and the holidays are over. Our first event of 2007 featured Vietti Barolo from the Lazzarito vineyard in the Piemontese town of Serralunga d’Alba.Lazzarito has been described at the most modern Barolo in the Vietti line up in part for its barrique aging, something I didn’t know at the outset of the tasting. The élevage became pretty obvious as we moved through the wines.
Typically I favor Barolo and Barbaresco of a more “traditional” style, with longer skin contact during fermentation and aging in large, old oak Botti that allow for the right amount of oxidation without the toasty, woody influence of young, small barrels.
Of course rules have their exceptions, and these Lazzarito wines were certainly impressive and delicious despite some obvious oak. These are wines built to age and they are clearly of high quality. I suspect time will allow the elements to integrate further, though at the $80-$100 price per bottle, I also suspect I won’t have any to find out for myself.
To start, we tried an oddity, the 2005 J.M. Raffault Chinon Blanc, made from 100% chenin blanc in this Loire appellation known for its red wines of cabernet franc. This was clean and fresh, more sauvignon in character with a gooseberry edge that seemed a little manufactured, but overall it’s nice wine. I know others who love this wine more than I do.
Then we poured five vintages of Vietti Barolo Lazzarito. We began with the 1995 and this, I hope, was damaged somewhere along the way. The color wasn’t unusual, with a rusting if slightly brownish cast. Aromatically the wine seemed tired, and even though it opened to show hints of cherries, fenel and menthol, it never lost the dead leaf, papery quality of oxidation. It wasn’t corked. In the mouth, the same story. Some drying fruit flavors with brown spices and cigar tobacco, but tannic and a bit sour. Many in the group liked this wine, but this tasted damaged to me.
Next, the 1998, with a slightly darker blood red color that still hints at rust. This wine showed a clear sweet oak aroma, but with air gained lots of interesting cherry, brown spice, cooked meat, pepper and fenel aromas. In the mouth, the wine seemed more mature in flavor than its fresh, tannic structure suggested, but this is still a baby and I think it will age well. Still, it wasn’t as good as others that followed.
Then came the 1999, slightly ligher in color than the 1998 with its own hint of rust. The wine smelled of plastic at first, but developed a deep and intense fragrance that showed similar qualities of brown spice, cherries, and a hard to define melange of earthy, meat, and leather elements. Some tasters picked up an unappealing band-aid like brett aroma, but I found this wine quite attractive overall and wasn’t put off by the slight uncleanliness. In the mouth, it was ripe, round, even plush in texture with grippy tannin in the middle and finish combined with an already delicious bottle sweetness. Greath length, just terrific modern-styled Barolo once it had a chance to breathe.
The 2000 showed the roasted quality of this hot vintage, with a similar color to the 1998 and a complex roasted sweet cherry, leather, pepper and juniper aroma, and clearly a whiff of alcohol. In the mouth, it was tannic, roasted and powerful but still excellent, more Chateauneuf du Pape-like than most Barolo and showing some heat, but again just delicious. In my subsequent research about this wine, I found a note from review Steve Tanzer suggesting that Aldo Currado from Vietti finds the Lazzarito vineyard Chateauneuf-like “in terms of its ripeness and dark fruit flavors.” Interesting, it shows here for sure. This is extreme, but I like it plenty.
Finally, the 2001 that naturally had the most youthful color of the line up with an oaky milk chocolate element that turned out to be nicer than it might sound, blended into a high toned but still rich aroma. Got that? This wine showed more typcial nebbiolo floral character than any other wine here. What a gorgeous perfume that seemed to benefit from the barrique aging. In the mouth it was tight, tight, tight, more wound than any other wine here but so impressive with red berry, even cranberry notes amid the darker, earthy profile typical of all of these wines. This was my favorite wine but it’s all potential.
In sum, these were some terrific wines that make me think a little differently about small oak aging for nebbiolo. While I still wouldn’t choose to do that myself, there’s no denying that these wines are both “modern” and clearly of Barolo and clearly of one fine site. Just wish I could afford some.
February 04, 2007
1999 Mas de Daumas Gassac Blanc
We all know that sometimes a “great deal” isn’t so great. Wine is no exception.
When I find something significantly lower than market price, I always wonder if it’s damaged goods. Many times, it is.
But sometimes, the great deal is just that. Distributors close stuff out perfectly good wine when they who won’t be representing the producer in the future. Or when they’re getting rid of last year’s release to clear space for new wine. Or when they simply have too much of a particular bottling, especially if it’s known to be more obscure and perhaps harder to sell.
Who knows what it was a couple years ago with the 1999 Mas de Daumas Gassac Blanc, which showed up on close out in half bottles for $4.99. This should have been three times that price, and a nice deal at that.
I can imagine people thought the wine was getting old. And half bottles aren’t always big sellers. And despite that quasi-cult status of this southern France producer, really, who’s buying chardonnay, viognier, etc. blends from the hinterlands?
So I bought a few, and sadly drank the last one earlier this week. This wine is fully mature, with a golden yellow color and an amazingly complex aroma that mixes white Burgundy with the northern Rhone.
It has aromas of pples, yellow fruits, toast, sweet cream butter, an exotic star fruit note and then a hint of mint like a Ramondet Chassagne-Montrachet. In the mouth, it’s rich and round with minty yellow fruit, apples, soft acid that just carries the lush flavors to a nice long finish.
This is seamless wine, truly complex and perfectly mature. For five bucks. Some deal.
When I find something significantly lower than market price, I always wonder if it’s damaged goods. Many times, it is.
But sometimes, the great deal is just that. Distributors close stuff out perfectly good wine when they who won’t be representing the producer in the future. Or when they’re getting rid of last year’s release to clear space for new wine. Or when they simply have too much of a particular bottling, especially if it’s known to be more obscure and perhaps harder to sell.
Who knows what it was a couple years ago with the 1999 Mas de Daumas Gassac Blanc, which showed up on close out in half bottles for $4.99. This should have been three times that price, and a nice deal at that.
I can imagine people thought the wine was getting old. And half bottles aren’t always big sellers. And despite that quasi-cult status of this southern France producer, really, who’s buying chardonnay, viognier, etc. blends from the hinterlands?
So I bought a few, and sadly drank the last one earlier this week. This wine is fully mature, with a golden yellow color and an amazingly complex aroma that mixes white Burgundy with the northern Rhone.
It has aromas of pples, yellow fruits, toast, sweet cream butter, an exotic star fruit note and then a hint of mint like a Ramondet Chassagne-Montrachet. In the mouth, it’s rich and round with minty yellow fruit, apples, soft acid that just carries the lush flavors to a nice long finish.
This is seamless wine, truly complex and perfectly mature. For five bucks. Some deal.
January 31, 2007
Homebrew update
It’s clear this isn’t a frequently updated site, but that’s not for lack of things to write about. First on the list is a homebrew update.
So two weeks ago, I racked my 2006 pinot noir by gravity into a series of tubs. Then I cleaned out the barrel, reset it in the makeshift barrel room, and returned the wine.
The wine seems no worse for the process, and it seems less stinky if not completely clean. I’m now thinking that malolactic fermentation, which will finish up in the spring, might help areate the wine without excess oxidation. We’ll see.
In the meantime, I’ve been thinking a lot about reduction. Some winemakers don’t mind it, but most do and every book on winemaking seems to treat it as the enemy.
I’m of mixed mind about reduction. A visit to Cameron winery last weekend got me thinking that I need to worry less about it. Read more about that visit here from local guy Michael Alberty. I’ll write up something about it next time with more on reduction.
So two weeks ago, I racked my 2006 pinot noir by gravity into a series of tubs. Then I cleaned out the barrel, reset it in the makeshift barrel room, and returned the wine.
The wine seems no worse for the process, and it seems less stinky if not completely clean. I’m now thinking that malolactic fermentation, which will finish up in the spring, might help areate the wine without excess oxidation. We’ll see.
In the meantime, I’ve been thinking a lot about reduction. Some winemakers don’t mind it, but most do and every book on winemaking seems to treat it as the enemy.
I’m of mixed mind about reduction. A visit to Cameron winery last weekend got me thinking that I need to worry less about it. Read more about that visit here from local guy Michael Alberty. I’ll write up something about it next time with more on reduction.
January 06, 2007
Stinky barrel
Upon returning from Los Angeles, I found my barrel of 2006 Wahle Vineyard Pinot Noir notably stinky.
It smelled ok before I left, but I did notice some reduction in the wine. Reduction in this case sulfides, the smell of rotten eggs or “passing wind” or stinky things like that. A little is fine, and it keeps the wine from oxydizing or browning, something you definitely don’t want in your new wine. But mor ethan a little can turn into worse problems later on, so it’s time to act.
What do you do with stinky wine? Rack the wine off its lees, the sediments that usually are the source of sulfides.
If you recall, I pressed this wine and put it in the barrel “dirty,” meaning I didn’t let the gross lees settle out of the new wine for a day or two before moving it into the barrel.
Why go to barrel “dirty”? Doesn’t the conventional wisdom suggest that lees are the source of more bad things than good?
Yes, but lees encourage the malolactic fermentation that I haven’t innoculated for. Lees aging adds textural richness to the wine. And lees appear to have antioxident properities that I don’t think are fully understood yet. Happily, though much of the lees have settled out already, there will still be fine lees that accumulate going forward that should only benefit the wine’s progress.
Perhaps my sulfide issue is due to going to barrel dirty. I wouldn’t be surprised now that I think about it, given the minor sulfide issue I had during fermentation. But it’s not a bad problem, and if nothing else I will end up with clearer wine come bottling time for having eliminated so much sediment. Many wineries would be racking wine soon anyway, though artisinal Pinot Noir producers commonly don’t rack their wine until bottling time next summer or fall.
Racking, or moving the wine out of the barrel through a gravity siphon, will allow the highly volatile sulfides to “blow off” or dissipate as the wine moves. Other winemakers have suggest “splash racking” the wine to increase oxygen expose.
With particularly stinky wines, one winemaker told me he splashes the wine over a copper sheet, the sulfides bonding to the copper to “clean up” the wine. Another suspends a copper pipe piece in the wine barrel before racking. In wineries, you might treat the wine with more precise amounts of copper sulfate, a highly toxic chemical that I don’t believe is legal (or safe) for home use.
This wine won’t need that, especially because I’ll rack twice. Once out of the barrel, then I’ll clean the barrel and return the wine. Wineries call it a “rack and return,” which you might also do with juice during a stinky fermentation. It’s a nice, low impact way to mitigate a problem without much downside at this point.
It smelled ok before I left, but I did notice some reduction in the wine. Reduction in this case sulfides, the smell of rotten eggs or “passing wind” or stinky things like that. A little is fine, and it keeps the wine from oxydizing or browning, something you definitely don’t want in your new wine. But mor ethan a little can turn into worse problems later on, so it’s time to act.
What do you do with stinky wine? Rack the wine off its lees, the sediments that usually are the source of sulfides.
If you recall, I pressed this wine and put it in the barrel “dirty,” meaning I didn’t let the gross lees settle out of the new wine for a day or two before moving it into the barrel.
Why go to barrel “dirty”? Doesn’t the conventional wisdom suggest that lees are the source of more bad things than good?
Yes, but lees encourage the malolactic fermentation that I haven’t innoculated for. Lees aging adds textural richness to the wine. And lees appear to have antioxident properities that I don’t think are fully understood yet. Happily, though much of the lees have settled out already, there will still be fine lees that accumulate going forward that should only benefit the wine’s progress.
Perhaps my sulfide issue is due to going to barrel dirty. I wouldn’t be surprised now that I think about it, given the minor sulfide issue I had during fermentation. But it’s not a bad problem, and if nothing else I will end up with clearer wine come bottling time for having eliminated so much sediment. Many wineries would be racking wine soon anyway, though artisinal Pinot Noir producers commonly don’t rack their wine until bottling time next summer or fall.
Racking, or moving the wine out of the barrel through a gravity siphon, will allow the highly volatile sulfides to “blow off” or dissipate as the wine moves. Other winemakers have suggest “splash racking” the wine to increase oxygen expose.
With particularly stinky wines, one winemaker told me he splashes the wine over a copper sheet, the sulfides bonding to the copper to “clean up” the wine. Another suspends a copper pipe piece in the wine barrel before racking. In wineries, you might treat the wine with more precise amounts of copper sulfate, a highly toxic chemical that I don’t believe is legal (or safe) for home use.
This wine won’t need that, especially because I’ll rack twice. Once out of the barrel, then I’ll clean the barrel and return the wine. Wineries call it a “rack and return,” which you might also do with juice during a stinky fermentation. It’s a nice, low impact way to mitigate a problem without much downside at this point.
January 04, 2007
Wine in Los Angeles
Over the holidays in southern California, I had the chance to savor some fine wines and taste some real oddities. We didn’t have wine at every meal, clearly. And wine wasn’t the focus. But you always end up with something to report.
I greatly enjoyed the 2002 Produtorri di Barbaresco Barbaresco normale bottling from the rainy, much maligned vintage. This wine is terrific, with a typcially ruby color, floral and tar perfume, and a tannic but ripe flavor. Unlike most ‘02s I’ve had, you could hold this for a few years. It’s not overly soft or even dilute, though I wouldn’t keep it too long and I’d watch it closely. But for $20 it’s a deal.
A half bottle of 1999 Quinta do Crasto Late Bottled Vintage Port was better than I even expected. Softer as an LBV tends to be, traditionally bottled at four years, this is classic fragrant with peppery flavors, nice texture and length. Terrific value at $10
A 2004 Donnhoff Riesling QBA was good enough but not as precise as I was looking for, more spatlese sweet without the higher acid quality of that pradikat. Still a nice drink, with light earthy petrol notes and fat lemony mineral flavors.
At Christmas we had some NV Korbel sparkling wine, still labelled “Champagne” which seems hard to understand at this point. But the wine is not horrible, actually just not memorable. I did enjoy the oft-maligned NV Moet et Chandon Champagne White Star, more yeasty and firm, not bad at all. A 2005 Zaca Mesa Viognier Santa Ynez Valley was too soft and fruity to make much of an impression, but it was ok. More soda pop like.
For reds, the 2005 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Willamette Valley was good and fruity, more gushing then past vintages but nice for a crowd. The 1994 Leoville Barton St. Julien was nicely fragrant maturing Bordeaux but less yielding in the mouth. That’s code for tannic. Hold forever. Of course everyone preferred the 2004 Rombauer Zindanfel from various California counties. It’s hugely ripe, oaky, alcoholic, and sweet. I struggled to understand it. I also tried the 2003 Merryvale Cabernet Sauvignon “Starmont” Napa Valley that was a pretty good value at $20, even if the same money would buy you more wine in another category.
Later on in the trip I happened upon two different Screw Kappa Napa wines, both the wine equivalent of Velveeta. They seem to have jammy sheen to them, with “dialed in” oak flavors, yet momentarily they have some appeal. The 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon was perfectly inoffensive, though it didn’t taste much like cabernet. The 2003 (I think) Merlot was more merlot-like, with typcial herbal scents and flavors that tasted manufactured..
Finally, in a restaurant with old friends, a bottle of 2004 Stag’s Leap Wine Cellar Cabernet Sauvignon “Artemis” Napa Valley. This was ripe and richly fruity like Napa cabs tend to be, but not overly so. Finely tannic but built for drinking younger, perfect nice restaurant cabernet.
I greatly enjoyed the 2002 Produtorri di Barbaresco Barbaresco normale bottling from the rainy, much maligned vintage. This wine is terrific, with a typcially ruby color, floral and tar perfume, and a tannic but ripe flavor. Unlike most ‘02s I’ve had, you could hold this for a few years. It’s not overly soft or even dilute, though I wouldn’t keep it too long and I’d watch it closely. But for $20 it’s a deal.
A half bottle of 1999 Quinta do Crasto Late Bottled Vintage Port was better than I even expected. Softer as an LBV tends to be, traditionally bottled at four years, this is classic fragrant with peppery flavors, nice texture and length. Terrific value at $10
A 2004 Donnhoff Riesling QBA was good enough but not as precise as I was looking for, more spatlese sweet without the higher acid quality of that pradikat. Still a nice drink, with light earthy petrol notes and fat lemony mineral flavors.
At Christmas we had some NV Korbel sparkling wine, still labelled “Champagne” which seems hard to understand at this point. But the wine is not horrible, actually just not memorable. I did enjoy the oft-maligned NV Moet et Chandon Champagne White Star, more yeasty and firm, not bad at all. A 2005 Zaca Mesa Viognier Santa Ynez Valley was too soft and fruity to make much of an impression, but it was ok. More soda pop like.
For reds, the 2005 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Willamette Valley was good and fruity, more gushing then past vintages but nice for a crowd. The 1994 Leoville Barton St. Julien was nicely fragrant maturing Bordeaux but less yielding in the mouth. That’s code for tannic. Hold forever. Of course everyone preferred the 2004 Rombauer Zindanfel from various California counties. It’s hugely ripe, oaky, alcoholic, and sweet. I struggled to understand it. I also tried the 2003 Merryvale Cabernet Sauvignon “Starmont” Napa Valley that was a pretty good value at $20, even if the same money would buy you more wine in another category.
Later on in the trip I happened upon two different Screw Kappa Napa wines, both the wine equivalent of Velveeta. They seem to have jammy sheen to them, with “dialed in” oak flavors, yet momentarily they have some appeal. The 2002 Cabernet Sauvignon was perfectly inoffensive, though it didn’t taste much like cabernet. The 2003 (I think) Merlot was more merlot-like, with typcial herbal scents and flavors that tasted manufactured..
Finally, in a restaurant with old friends, a bottle of 2004 Stag’s Leap Wine Cellar Cabernet Sauvignon “Artemis” Napa Valley. This was ripe and richly fruity like Napa cabs tend to be, but not overly so. Finely tannic but built for drinking younger, perfect nice restaurant cabernet.
December 25, 2006
Christmas Wine
Last year’s Christmas case of wine for my parents proved so successful, we’ve expanded things to two cases this year. This year, all of my siblings chipped in. Being the “enophile” in the family, I naturally do the shopping. Tough break, I know.
Since we’re visiting my childhood home in Los Angeles, I took a trip the other day to the Wine House in West LA to fill up the boxes. With a budget of roughly $20 per bottle, here are some thoughts on what I selected and why.
First, we always need bubbly. In my price range, Champagne prices and selection at the Wine House were a bit lacking, so I turned to two sparkling favorites – the 2000 Domaine Huet Vouvray Petillant and 1998 Domaine Meriwether Cuvee Wm. Clark. Huet is perhaps (inarguably?) the finest producer in Vouvray, and its sparkling wine of 100% Chenin Blanc is fine indeed. Typically lemony and minerally, with just enough dough and yeast. The Domaine Meriwether is an Oregon product and quite nice wine, more in the Champagne style with nice yeastiness from longer lees ageing.
Then, white wines. Domestic Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc tend to be common and boring, at least given our budget. So I turned mostly to Europe for my selections, and that’s probably never a bad idea no matter your price range.
For Sauvignon Blanc, the 2005 Domaine de Chatenoy Menetou-Salon, an appellation close to Sancerre in the upper Loire valley of France. For Chardonnay, two Maconnais – the 2005 Les Heritiers du Comte Lafon Macon and the 2005 Maison Verget Macon-Villages Grands Elevage. Of course, we must represent Oregon and I was pleased to find the 2001 Hamacher Chardonnay Cuvee Forets Diverses for less than you’d pay in Portland. I find this wine to be one of the top Chardonnay from Oregon, released late and still worth cellaring for a few years more.
My parents visited and quite enjoyed Vouvray a few years back, so in addition to the Huet sparkler I added the 2005 Domaine Champalou Vouvray Cuvee des Fondraux, usually a sec-tendre or lightly sweet that should be terrific in the highly touted 2005 vintage. And my father, loving his German heritage, must have wine from the Fatherland, no matter his reluctance of sweet Riesling. So, the 2005 Gunderloch "Jean-Baptiste" Rheinhessen Riesling Kabinett, a drier style even for Kabinett but still with a hint of sweetness. And the always terrific 2005 Nigl Gruner Veltliner Velt Krem Freiheit, which may be a bit out there for my parents. But I couldn’t resist.
For reds, I was again put off many domestic Cabernet selections but still found some oddities of fine quality to include. Namely, the 2001 Cedarville Cabernet Sauvignon from El Dorado County in California’s Sierra Foothills. Likely rich and strapping, but without being over the top. Also, a sale bottle of 2001 Havens Bourriquot, an unusual Cabernet Franc and Merlot blend from Napa made is a Bordeaux style. As a contrast, I picked the 2003 Chateau Coufran Haut Medoc, mostly Merlot from what is usually Cabernet country.
The Zinfandel selection in this price range is also limited, but I found the 2004 Dashe Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley that should be good if more oaky and rich than earlier vintages from this ex-Ridge winemaker. And an old school favorite, the 2003 Sausal Zinfandel Alexander Valley Old Vine, still with its 1970s vintage label and hopefully wine style. Haven’t had it in some years, but I suspect Sausal hasn’t changed much from its days producing savory Zinfandel that can age gracefully.
Branching out, I found some Rhone variety and varietal wines. First, the Grenache-based 2004 Domaine Charvin Cotes du Rhone Le Poutet from the acclaimed Chateauneuf du Pape producer. To contrast, two varietal Syrah – the 2001 Havens Syrah Napa Valley and the 2003 Pikes Shiraz Clare Valley from a cool climate region in Australia. Typically peppery and fruity without too much heaviness or alcohol that plagues the land down under.
Of course, we must have Pinot Noir. So the 2003 Domaine Simon Bize Bourgogne Les Bourgeots from the respected Burgundy producer of Savigny Les Beaune. Should be translucent and fragrant if not especially rich. To contrast, I was happy to find the newly released 2005 Grochau Cellars Pinot Noir Willamette Valley, which I tried from barrel earlier this year. Definitely check out this producer.
And from Italy, two bottles (it’s so good) of 2004 Fattoria Felsina Chianti Classico and, with a lacking selection of Barbera, a mystery bottle that I know nothing about – the 2004 Massolino Barbera d’Alba. If it’s modern and oaky, so be it. These wines are for my parents’ taste, not mine, though I couldn’t help including some off the radar stuff.
So there it is, two cases of wine for Christmas. What’s that you say? Only 23 bottles? Yes, I forgot the magnum of 2003 Clos la Coutale Cahors, mostly Malbec from the Dordogne in France that, despite a dose of Merlot for softness, retains nice country wine authenticity. Who can resist 1.5 liters of this stuff. It’s a party in a bottle.
Merry Christmas.
Since we’re visiting my childhood home in Los Angeles, I took a trip the other day to the Wine House in West LA to fill up the boxes. With a budget of roughly $20 per bottle, here are some thoughts on what I selected and why.
First, we always need bubbly. In my price range, Champagne prices and selection at the Wine House were a bit lacking, so I turned to two sparkling favorites – the 2000 Domaine Huet Vouvray Petillant and 1998 Domaine Meriwether Cuvee Wm. Clark. Huet is perhaps (inarguably?) the finest producer in Vouvray, and its sparkling wine of 100% Chenin Blanc is fine indeed. Typically lemony and minerally, with just enough dough and yeast. The Domaine Meriwether is an Oregon product and quite nice wine, more in the Champagne style with nice yeastiness from longer lees ageing.
Then, white wines. Domestic Chardonnay and Sauvignon Blanc tend to be common and boring, at least given our budget. So I turned mostly to Europe for my selections, and that’s probably never a bad idea no matter your price range.
For Sauvignon Blanc, the 2005 Domaine de Chatenoy Menetou-Salon, an appellation close to Sancerre in the upper Loire valley of France. For Chardonnay, two Maconnais – the 2005 Les Heritiers du Comte Lafon Macon and the 2005 Maison Verget Macon-Villages Grands Elevage. Of course, we must represent Oregon and I was pleased to find the 2001 Hamacher Chardonnay Cuvee Forets Diverses for less than you’d pay in Portland. I find this wine to be one of the top Chardonnay from Oregon, released late and still worth cellaring for a few years more.
My parents visited and quite enjoyed Vouvray a few years back, so in addition to the Huet sparkler I added the 2005 Domaine Champalou Vouvray Cuvee des Fondraux, usually a sec-tendre or lightly sweet that should be terrific in the highly touted 2005 vintage. And my father, loving his German heritage, must have wine from the Fatherland, no matter his reluctance of sweet Riesling. So, the 2005 Gunderloch "Jean-Baptiste" Rheinhessen Riesling Kabinett, a drier style even for Kabinett but still with a hint of sweetness. And the always terrific 2005 Nigl Gruner Veltliner Velt Krem Freiheit, which may be a bit out there for my parents. But I couldn’t resist.
For reds, I was again put off many domestic Cabernet selections but still found some oddities of fine quality to include. Namely, the 2001 Cedarville Cabernet Sauvignon from El Dorado County in California’s Sierra Foothills. Likely rich and strapping, but without being over the top. Also, a sale bottle of 2001 Havens Bourriquot, an unusual Cabernet Franc and Merlot blend from Napa made is a Bordeaux style. As a contrast, I picked the 2003 Chateau Coufran Haut Medoc, mostly Merlot from what is usually Cabernet country.
The Zinfandel selection in this price range is also limited, but I found the 2004 Dashe Zinfandel Dry Creek Valley that should be good if more oaky and rich than earlier vintages from this ex-Ridge winemaker. And an old school favorite, the 2003 Sausal Zinfandel Alexander Valley Old Vine, still with its 1970s vintage label and hopefully wine style. Haven’t had it in some years, but I suspect Sausal hasn’t changed much from its days producing savory Zinfandel that can age gracefully.
Branching out, I found some Rhone variety and varietal wines. First, the Grenache-based 2004 Domaine Charvin Cotes du Rhone Le Poutet from the acclaimed Chateauneuf du Pape producer. To contrast, two varietal Syrah – the 2001 Havens Syrah Napa Valley and the 2003 Pikes Shiraz Clare Valley from a cool climate region in Australia. Typically peppery and fruity without too much heaviness or alcohol that plagues the land down under.
Of course, we must have Pinot Noir. So the 2003 Domaine Simon Bize Bourgogne Les Bourgeots from the respected Burgundy producer of Savigny Les Beaune. Should be translucent and fragrant if not especially rich. To contrast, I was happy to find the newly released 2005 Grochau Cellars Pinot Noir Willamette Valley, which I tried from barrel earlier this year. Definitely check out this producer.
And from Italy, two bottles (it’s so good) of 2004 Fattoria Felsina Chianti Classico and, with a lacking selection of Barbera, a mystery bottle that I know nothing about – the 2004 Massolino Barbera d’Alba. If it’s modern and oaky, so be it. These wines are for my parents’ taste, not mine, though I couldn’t help including some off the radar stuff.
So there it is, two cases of wine for Christmas. What’s that you say? Only 23 bottles? Yes, I forgot the magnum of 2003 Clos la Coutale Cahors, mostly Malbec from the Dordogne in France that, despite a dose of Merlot for softness, retains nice country wine authenticity. Who can resist 1.5 liters of this stuff. It’s a party in a bottle.
Merry Christmas.
December 10, 2006
Sampling my new wines
As it’s two months past harvest, I thought I’d taste my new 2006 wines again to see how they’re doing.
In my garage barrel room, I have one barrel of free run Pinot Noir plus two carboys of mostly press wine, one six and the other three gallons. I also have a 3 gallon carboy and another 1 gallon jug of Pinot Noir Rosé.
The barrel room is a coverted water closet, with temps this time of year in the low to mid 40s. The barrel is up on a rack and the carboys are on the concrete floor. The reds all have solid bungs, the rosé airlocks.
The 1 gallon of rosé smells clean, as all the wines are at this point. But it has a dark color for rosé from too long a maceration, and a candy fruity black cherry aroma that is a bit much.. The 3 gallon carboy seems more mineral, but similarly fruity and a little heavy on flavor. These are perfectly good wines, just not quite my style. We’ll see how they change.
The 3 and 6 gallon carboys of red both show some stinky reductive notes, particularly the 6 gallon. I really don’t want to rack these things this early if I don’t have to, but I think it will have to happen. The reduction blows off in the glass, and they both show black cherry fruit aromas and a full, softly structured palate. The 6 gallon seems a little more meaty, maybe lightly syrah like. Again, not the style I’m going for, but not bad and not alcoholic.
The barrel is all free run wine, and interestingly seems a bit more tannic than the press wine. It’s not stinky like the press wine, but the aroma is muted. In the mouth, the wine is still tight but some fine tannins are welcome. This barrel is from 2001, so I don’t expect much wood tannin in the wine, but I’ll be curious to see how this wine changes compared to the wine in glass carboys.
Overall, things are looking good. At this point, the wines are what they are, I just want to keep them healthy. The reds will have to finish malolactic fermentation in the spring, and I’m hoping the malic acid levels are low. That way the finished wine will retain as much acid as possible. It’s already low enough, I don’t want it going any lower than it has to.
What’s next? Topping the barrel regularly with press wine and even some of last year’s wine, whatever’s handy. Last year’s wine is high acid and lighter in color, so I won’t mind using it here and there. This day I used about a full bottle to top the barrel, just 16 days since I last topped. At that rate, I’ll lose about 8% a year to evaporation, the angel’s share. I’ll look at getting a cheap humidifier to cut that down a little.
In my garage barrel room, I have one barrel of free run Pinot Noir plus two carboys of mostly press wine, one six and the other three gallons. I also have a 3 gallon carboy and another 1 gallon jug of Pinot Noir Rosé.
The barrel room is a coverted water closet, with temps this time of year in the low to mid 40s. The barrel is up on a rack and the carboys are on the concrete floor. The reds all have solid bungs, the rosé airlocks.
The 1 gallon of rosé smells clean, as all the wines are at this point. But it has a dark color for rosé from too long a maceration, and a candy fruity black cherry aroma that is a bit much.. The 3 gallon carboy seems more mineral, but similarly fruity and a little heavy on flavor. These are perfectly good wines, just not quite my style. We’ll see how they change.
The 3 and 6 gallon carboys of red both show some stinky reductive notes, particularly the 6 gallon. I really don’t want to rack these things this early if I don’t have to, but I think it will have to happen. The reduction blows off in the glass, and they both show black cherry fruit aromas and a full, softly structured palate. The 6 gallon seems a little more meaty, maybe lightly syrah like. Again, not the style I’m going for, but not bad and not alcoholic.
The barrel is all free run wine, and interestingly seems a bit more tannic than the press wine. It’s not stinky like the press wine, but the aroma is muted. In the mouth, the wine is still tight but some fine tannins are welcome. This barrel is from 2001, so I don’t expect much wood tannin in the wine, but I’ll be curious to see how this wine changes compared to the wine in glass carboys.
Overall, things are looking good. At this point, the wines are what they are, I just want to keep them healthy. The reds will have to finish malolactic fermentation in the spring, and I’m hoping the malic acid levels are low. That way the finished wine will retain as much acid as possible. It’s already low enough, I don’t want it going any lower than it has to.
What’s next? Topping the barrel regularly with press wine and even some of last year’s wine, whatever’s handy. Last year’s wine is high acid and lighter in color, so I won’t mind using it here and there. This day I used about a full bottle to top the barrel, just 16 days since I last topped. At that rate, I’ll lose about 8% a year to evaporation, the angel’s share. I’ll look at getting a cheap humidifier to cut that down a little.
December 06, 2006
Domaine Tempier and Lots More on Wine Terroirs
Ok, I'm not exactly frequent with blog posts. And I haven't exactly filled out a site's worth of links and other resources I thought I'd have gotten too long before now.
But savvy élevage readers may have noticed the link on the lower right to Wine Terroirs, my favorite wine blog. If you don't check it out already, bookmark it.
Now, Paris-based photographer and writer Bertrand Celce doesn't exactly update his wine blog much more frequently than I do mine.
But the content. And the photos. Wine Terroirs is gorgeous and among great wine literature in its ability to make you thirsty.
Bert has spent the past two years travelling around France calling on a laundry list of producers I only wish I had the opportunity to visit. His latest post is Tempier, probably around the time I had that nice chance to taste Tempier here in Portand and chat with winemaker Daneil Ravier.
And Bert's been to Oregon, visiting this past summer and posting on one of my favorites, Evesham Wood. I only wish I had known and then invited myself along.
Yes, Bert's a non-native English speaker and writer, and his prose isn't exactly poesy. But he's a good taster, relays terrific information, and the site as a whole conveys what artisan wine and winemaking are all about.
So go read Wine Terroirs and open a nice bottle of Bandol.
But savvy élevage readers may have noticed the link on the lower right to Wine Terroirs, my favorite wine blog. If you don't check it out already, bookmark it.
Now, Paris-based photographer and writer Bertrand Celce doesn't exactly update his wine blog much more frequently than I do mine.
But the content. And the photos. Wine Terroirs is gorgeous and among great wine literature in its ability to make you thirsty.
Bert has spent the past two years travelling around France calling on a laundry list of producers I only wish I had the opportunity to visit. His latest post is Tempier, probably around the time I had that nice chance to taste Tempier here in Portand and chat with winemaker Daneil Ravier.
And Bert's been to Oregon, visiting this past summer and posting on one of my favorites, Evesham Wood. I only wish I had known and then invited myself along.
Yes, Bert's a non-native English speaker and writer, and his prose isn't exactly poesy. But he's a good taster, relays terrific information, and the site as a whole conveys what artisan wine and winemaking are all about.
So go read Wine Terroirs and open a nice bottle of Bandol.
December 02, 2006
2003 Edmunds St. John Rocks and Gravel
I’ve written before about how good Edmunds St. John wines can be. So when I saw the latest issue of Rocks and Gravel, their grenache, syrah, mourvedre blend, marked down to $13 from the usual $18, I grabbed a couple.
This wine is usually a great deal at full price, and I still have memories of the terrific 2001. Peppery, meaty grenache-dominated wine that tasted like a Gigondas or other good southern Rhone wine.
Alas, the 2003 isn’t the 2001. It’s not bad wine, and it improved markedly with food. But on its own the aromas and flavors seemed muddled, with a vegetal streak that I wasn’t sure about.
Then with dinner on the table, the food aromas mixed with the wine to bring out cherry fruit and the vegetal note evolved to an iodine, earthy complexity.
So I enjoyed the wine. But I wish I had the 2001 instead. And with The Shadow still a dollar or three cheaper around town, that’s what you want on the cheapside from ESJ.
This wine is usually a great deal at full price, and I still have memories of the terrific 2001. Peppery, meaty grenache-dominated wine that tasted like a Gigondas or other good southern Rhone wine.
Alas, the 2003 isn’t the 2001. It’s not bad wine, and it improved markedly with food. But on its own the aromas and flavors seemed muddled, with a vegetal streak that I wasn’t sure about.
Then with dinner on the table, the food aromas mixed with the wine to bring out cherry fruit and the vegetal note evolved to an iodine, earthy complexity.
So I enjoyed the wine. But I wish I had the 2001 instead. And with The Shadow still a dollar or three cheaper around town, that’s what you want on the cheapside from ESJ.
November 22, 2006
Kermit Lynch Tasting
I went to a terrific event at Liner & Elsen wine shop last week, a tasting of three French producers imported by Kermit Lynch in Berkeley, CA.
There are many importers of French wine, many good ones. Yet Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant is, to me, the best. I grew up in wine through KLWM selections, and even with occasional doubts through the years, they keep coming through.
Case in point, the wines of Reuilly, Robert-Denogent, and Tempier.
From the Loire, Denis Jamain of Domaine de Reuilly poured wines and showed a nice rock from his vineyard filled with fossilized sea shells, His 2005 Reuilly Sauvignon is crisp, clean middle Loire sauvignon. The 2005 Pinot Gris Rosé is light and delicate, more inoffensive than graceful, with a beautiful light copper color. Then the 2005 Reuilly Pinot Noir, fresh and lively ruby red wine, simple and in the words of Jamain, easy to drink. I’d say that and delightful.
Next came Jean Jacques Robert of Domaine Robert-Denogent in the Maconais. These wines really impressed, with all of them more than satisfactory and a couple that were truly outstanding. At $20-$35, these are great value in high quality white Burgundy.
The 2004 Macon-Fuissé “Les Taches” is nice clean chardonnay with great balance, simple but still very nice. The 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Croix” is similar in frame but with more mineral intensity.
Then, at another level, the 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Reisses” that’s simply gorgeous. Rich but precise aroma, full and long flavor, this is pick of a nice line up. The 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé “Cuvée Claude Denogent” that’s named for Jean Jacques Robert’s grandfather is a bit wild and less clear than the Reisses, but no less delicious. These wines show some oak influence, but also have such nice fruit and minerality to balance things.
And finally the 2000 Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Carrons” for contrast. It was a bit mature at first, but opened quickly with mint and fennel aromas, a bit lean on the palate though I think this just needed more time to unfold in the glass.
I’ve been on a white Burgundy kick lately, and wines like these only make me more interested. If you think white Burgs are too expensive, too rich, too boring, too oaky, too whatever, give these a try. They aren't cheap by most standards, but they're worth the extra money. And if you're loaded, drink this stuff anyway.
Then to Provence. Daniel Ravier of Domaine Tempier was on hand to pour the 2004s and other things, and chat candidly about his technique and the domaine in general.
First, the 2005 Bandol Rosé is a mineral and structured rosé, good but a bit lost for me tonight if you can believe it. Daniel said it’s 50% grapes macerated one night, which gave more color than they hoped, so another 35% of the grapes were pressed right away without maceration. The cuvee also includes about 15% saignee from the reds. Daniel says that he wants to be careful not to bleed too much from the red wine so as to not imbalance it. This wine is fermented with added yeast, unlike the reds.
Then reds. The 2004 Bandol “Classique” is dark colored, full bodied and fruity but still cleanly earthy too, fairly forward and drinkable though I’m sure it would last some time. This is more modern than I remember Tempier, but still it’s authentic wine, not candied.
The 2004 Bandol “La Migoua” – pronounced Mee-gua for those of us who wonder about about things – is a step up. 50% mourvedre with syrah, carignan, and others in the mix, it has a sappy richness that’s a bit tight right now, but this is good if hefty wine.
The 2004 Bandol “La Tourtine” smells just like I remember Tourtine, which isn’t something I usually say about a wine. But this just smells like other bottles from this vineyard, good bottles I should add, have smelled. Yet it’s very ripe for Tempier and more forward than the Migoua while still clearly structured and a bit furry as mourvedre can be. It’s nice but again big wine. Daniel suggests it’s in the 15% range, which might come as a surprise to some people.
Finally, the 2000 Bandol “La Tourtine” that’s still young, as you would expect. Daniel jokes that they might have missed a racking on this one, his first year at Tempier. Stinky, reduced right out of the nearly fresh bottle, but with some minutes it clears up some. If you have this wine, decant it, which is probably a good idea with most Bandol. This is good Bandol, a minerally cherry wine that really wants food to smell and taste its best.
In sum, a terrific event that was like a little slice of Lynch’s classic book Adventures on the Wine Route. Both leave you thirsty for more.
There are many importers of French wine, many good ones. Yet Kermit Lynch Wine Merchant is, to me, the best. I grew up in wine through KLWM selections, and even with occasional doubts through the years, they keep coming through.
Case in point, the wines of Reuilly, Robert-Denogent, and Tempier.
From the Loire, Denis Jamain of Domaine de Reuilly poured wines and showed a nice rock from his vineyard filled with fossilized sea shells, His 2005 Reuilly Sauvignon is crisp, clean middle Loire sauvignon. The 2005 Pinot Gris Rosé is light and delicate, more inoffensive than graceful, with a beautiful light copper color. Then the 2005 Reuilly Pinot Noir, fresh and lively ruby red wine, simple and in the words of Jamain, easy to drink. I’d say that and delightful.
Next came Jean Jacques Robert of Domaine Robert-Denogent in the Maconais. These wines really impressed, with all of them more than satisfactory and a couple that were truly outstanding. At $20-$35, these are great value in high quality white Burgundy.
The 2004 Macon-Fuissé “Les Taches” is nice clean chardonnay with great balance, simple but still very nice. The 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Croix” is similar in frame but with more mineral intensity.
Then, at another level, the 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Reisses” that’s simply gorgeous. Rich but precise aroma, full and long flavor, this is pick of a nice line up. The 2004 Pouilly-Fuissé “Cuvée Claude Denogent” that’s named for Jean Jacques Robert’s grandfather is a bit wild and less clear than the Reisses, but no less delicious. These wines show some oak influence, but also have such nice fruit and minerality to balance things.
And finally the 2000 Pouilly-Fuissé “Les Carrons” for contrast. It was a bit mature at first, but opened quickly with mint and fennel aromas, a bit lean on the palate though I think this just needed more time to unfold in the glass.
I’ve been on a white Burgundy kick lately, and wines like these only make me more interested. If you think white Burgs are too expensive, too rich, too boring, too oaky, too whatever, give these a try. They aren't cheap by most standards, but they're worth the extra money. And if you're loaded, drink this stuff anyway.
Then to Provence. Daniel Ravier of Domaine Tempier was on hand to pour the 2004s and other things, and chat candidly about his technique and the domaine in general.
First, the 2005 Bandol Rosé is a mineral and structured rosé, good but a bit lost for me tonight if you can believe it. Daniel said it’s 50% grapes macerated one night, which gave more color than they hoped, so another 35% of the grapes were pressed right away without maceration. The cuvee also includes about 15% saignee from the reds. Daniel says that he wants to be careful not to bleed too much from the red wine so as to not imbalance it. This wine is fermented with added yeast, unlike the reds.
Then reds. The 2004 Bandol “Classique” is dark colored, full bodied and fruity but still cleanly earthy too, fairly forward and drinkable though I’m sure it would last some time. This is more modern than I remember Tempier, but still it’s authentic wine, not candied.
The 2004 Bandol “La Migoua” – pronounced Mee-gua for those of us who wonder about about things – is a step up. 50% mourvedre with syrah, carignan, and others in the mix, it has a sappy richness that’s a bit tight right now, but this is good if hefty wine.
The 2004 Bandol “La Tourtine” smells just like I remember Tourtine, which isn’t something I usually say about a wine. But this just smells like other bottles from this vineyard, good bottles I should add, have smelled. Yet it’s very ripe for Tempier and more forward than the Migoua while still clearly structured and a bit furry as mourvedre can be. It’s nice but again big wine. Daniel suggests it’s in the 15% range, which might come as a surprise to some people.
Finally, the 2000 Bandol “La Tourtine” that’s still young, as you would expect. Daniel jokes that they might have missed a racking on this one, his first year at Tempier. Stinky, reduced right out of the nearly fresh bottle, but with some minutes it clears up some. If you have this wine, decant it, which is probably a good idea with most Bandol. This is good Bandol, a minerally cherry wine that really wants food to smell and taste its best.
In sum, a terrific event that was like a little slice of Lynch’s classic book Adventures on the Wine Route. Both leave you thirsty for more.
Visits to Evesham Wood and Bethel Heights
Last Saturday, we ventured down the interstate to visit Evesham Wood in the southern Eola Hills just outside of Salem.
Instead of working all of Thanksgiving weekend, Russ and Mary Raney hold their fall open house one week earlier. When we arrived, there was a nice crowd in the dim but cramped cellar.
How nice to return to where I worked last year, the whole operation noticeably smaller than Belle Pente, the cellar below the family home just as you’d expect in Europe, just as I remembered it.
I was hoping to taste a barrel sample or two from 2005, but Russ only poured bottled wine. Most were from 2004, and all were red now that the whites from these short years are mostly sold.
We started with the 2005 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Willamette Valley, which was more together than a couple months ago right after bottling. Terrific wine for $15.
Then the 2004 Pinot Noir, all medium red at most with generally soft textures and ripe flavors. First the Le Puits Sec estate bottling, the most oak marked in a spicy, toasty way. Cherries, strawberries, winey but broad and fleshy.
Then the Cuvee J, an equal blend of estate and Seven Springs fruit. This wine showed a balance of the softer estate fruit and the deeper, more structured Seven Spings fruit. A hint of mint and loam with nice length, very good wine.
Finally the Seven Springs, back on form after what I thought was an overly alcoholic 2003. This was the most compelling wine here, deeper and fully in every way, approachable now as are all these wines but more structured to age. Still, in this ripe vintage, none of these wines is shy and I wouldn’t be surprised to find that alcohols aren’t much lower than ’03. But these wines didn’t show it today.
But wait, one more bottle, a....2005 Willamette Valley Tempranillo. Yes, Evesham Wood has gone round the bend and made a tempranillo. Russ loves Spanish reds and found tempranillo in a vineyard that provides the base of the Willamette Valley Pinot Noir. So he got a small amount to play with. Half the wine was apparently bottled for a local restaurant, and half on sale at the winery. How’s the wine? Dark in color and needing oxygen to get rid of some bottle stink. Underneath it smells like blackberries and earth but tastes tannic and tight. These grapes weren’t super ripe, but they made a nice wine. I had thought Russ would age it longer before bottling, but perhaps there wasn’t quite the depth for that.
Having enjoyed ouselves, we set out for another winery without quite the crowd. To Bethel Heights, a bit north in the Eola Hills with a nice tasting room, no tasting fee, and no crowd. Did I mention the tables where you can spread out and stay a while? This was a nice stop.
First the 2005 Pinot Gris, a mix of fruit from around Oregon in a clean, screw-capped bottle. This was quite nice, fresh and lively with a light sweetness that didn’t get tiresome. We bought one of these. Then the more barrel-marked 2003 Chardonnay Estate, which seemed clumsy at first but changed to show very nicely, not unlike a good Macon white without quite the precision.
To reds and the 2005 Pinot Noir Eola-Amity Hills, designated properly after the new American Viticultural Area for this region. Again, I initially didn’t like this but it grew on me. Sweet fruit and ash aromas at first, but then more complex spice and wine notes, not confected. Tastes simple and clean, not bad but more standard, I enjoyed this and wonder if it won’t evolve a little bit yet.
A step up was the 2004 Pinot Noir Flat Block Reserve, again lighter like the 2004s at Evesham Wood though not alarmingly so. Pretty aromas with a sense of layering, soft and full on the palate without heaviness. Very nice wine, I have sometimes found the reserves from Bethel Heights too wood-marked, but this is very nice wine and good value for higher end Oregon wine.
Instead of working all of Thanksgiving weekend, Russ and Mary Raney hold their fall open house one week earlier. When we arrived, there was a nice crowd in the dim but cramped cellar.
How nice to return to where I worked last year, the whole operation noticeably smaller than Belle Pente, the cellar below the family home just as you’d expect in Europe, just as I remembered it.
I was hoping to taste a barrel sample or two from 2005, but Russ only poured bottled wine. Most were from 2004, and all were red now that the whites from these short years are mostly sold.
We started with the 2005 Evesham Wood Pinot Noir Willamette Valley, which was more together than a couple months ago right after bottling. Terrific wine for $15.
Then the 2004 Pinot Noir, all medium red at most with generally soft textures and ripe flavors. First the Le Puits Sec estate bottling, the most oak marked in a spicy, toasty way. Cherries, strawberries, winey but broad and fleshy.
Then the Cuvee J, an equal blend of estate and Seven Springs fruit. This wine showed a balance of the softer estate fruit and the deeper, more structured Seven Spings fruit. A hint of mint and loam with nice length, very good wine.
Finally the Seven Springs, back on form after what I thought was an overly alcoholic 2003. This was the most compelling wine here, deeper and fully in every way, approachable now as are all these wines but more structured to age. Still, in this ripe vintage, none of these wines is shy and I wouldn’t be surprised to find that alcohols aren’t much lower than ’03. But these wines didn’t show it today.
But wait, one more bottle, a....2005 Willamette Valley Tempranillo. Yes, Evesham Wood has gone round the bend and made a tempranillo. Russ loves Spanish reds and found tempranillo in a vineyard that provides the base of the Willamette Valley Pinot Noir. So he got a small amount to play with. Half the wine was apparently bottled for a local restaurant, and half on sale at the winery. How’s the wine? Dark in color and needing oxygen to get rid of some bottle stink. Underneath it smells like blackberries and earth but tastes tannic and tight. These grapes weren’t super ripe, but they made a nice wine. I had thought Russ would age it longer before bottling, but perhaps there wasn’t quite the depth for that.
Having enjoyed ouselves, we set out for another winery without quite the crowd. To Bethel Heights, a bit north in the Eola Hills with a nice tasting room, no tasting fee, and no crowd. Did I mention the tables where you can spread out and stay a while? This was a nice stop.
First the 2005 Pinot Gris, a mix of fruit from around Oregon in a clean, screw-capped bottle. This was quite nice, fresh and lively with a light sweetness that didn’t get tiresome. We bought one of these. Then the more barrel-marked 2003 Chardonnay Estate, which seemed clumsy at first but changed to show very nicely, not unlike a good Macon white without quite the precision.
To reds and the 2005 Pinot Noir Eola-Amity Hills, designated properly after the new American Viticultural Area for this region. Again, I initially didn’t like this but it grew on me. Sweet fruit and ash aromas at first, but then more complex spice and wine notes, not confected. Tastes simple and clean, not bad but more standard, I enjoyed this and wonder if it won’t evolve a little bit yet.
A step up was the 2004 Pinot Noir Flat Block Reserve, again lighter like the 2004s at Evesham Wood though not alarmingly so. Pretty aromas with a sense of layering, soft and full on the palate without heaviness. Very nice wine, I have sometimes found the reserves from Bethel Heights too wood-marked, but this is very nice wine and good value for higher end Oregon wine.
November 21, 2006
Harvest Dinner at Belle Pente
To celebrate the end of havest nearly a month ago now, Brian and Jill O’Donnell hosted a wonderful harvest dinner at their home literally in the Belle Pente estate vineyard.
The harvest crew, friends, and neighbors were all there, and a former employee with serious chops in the kitchen cooked an outstanding meal.
The meal itself mirrored the harvest experience. The Belle Pente approach to farming and winemaking is highly traditional, and with the harvest dinner we shared another tradition of marking the season’s end. It’s difficult to describe, but this was a special experience.
The wines of course were top notch. Brian poured sparklers to begin, with the clean but simple 1997 Argyle Oregon Brut from magnum showing well enough next to a more mature NV Tattinger Champagne Brut. More impressive was the NV Bruno Palliard Champagne Brut, with terrific focus, freshness, and complexity.
Brian then paired wines to the multiple food courses, beginning with two from Alsace. The 2000 Rolly Gassman Riesling was good, lightly sweet with nice flavors, but not at the level of the 2002 Domaine Ostertag Riesling Munchberg Grand Cru. This was rich with some sweetness, but such terrific acidity, length, and mix of scents and flavors. I’ve heard some mixed things about Ostertag wines but never tried much. This was absolutely gorgeous with mixed greens and cigars of fig, hazelnut, and gorgonzola wrapped in prosciotto.
Next, two Belle Pente Chardonnay, the 2002 Estate Reserve and the 2004 Estate. Both showed well, not especially oaky but pretty. I think they suffered a little after the Rieslings, but still paired nicely with fish.
Then there was the main course, with nicely grilled flatiron strips, twice truffled potatoes, and braised carrots. What else to drink but a mix of red Burgundy and Belle Pente Pinot Noir, which held up well.
We began with the 1995 Roty Gevrey Chambertin Champs Chenys, tight and primary with five or ten years to go before maturity. Then the 1998 Leroy Pommard Les Vignots, which I thought was the class of the night. Backward and reduced at first, it blossomed into something beautiful. There’s nicely ripe fruit here, and also the finesse and complexity of nice Burgundy. It’s not overly tannic either, as the vintage reputation goes. This is village wine? Wow.
With these, we tried the 1996 Belle Pente Reserve, their first commercial vintage and produced from six barrels of Murto Vineyard Pinot Noir from the Dundee Hills. I’ve enjoyed a bunch of ‘96s from Oregon in the last few years, and this was another good one. Mature with some sous bois in the aroma and silky in the mouth, this is more than ready now but quite good. We also tried the 2001 Belle Pente Estate Reserve, which Brian likes for current drinking but I found it needing time to shed its remaining primary character. There’s also seemed to be a slight bitterness to the finish, but I think the wine just needs to rest still.
For dessert, nothing for me topped the 2001 Albert Mann Gewurztraminer Furstentum SGN, a honeyed but beautifully balanced, rich and exotic wine. Coming close was the 1993 Diszokno Tokaji Essencia, stunning in its own way. A full bottle of 2002 Belle Pente Pinot Gris VT was less impressive to me than recent half bottles, perhaps a touch volatile but still quite good dessert wine.
There were more wines still, and happily I had a bed down the hill at the harvest crew’s quarters. This was the night before my last work day, and falling asleep that night was especially sweet.
The harvest crew, friends, and neighbors were all there, and a former employee with serious chops in the kitchen cooked an outstanding meal.
The meal itself mirrored the harvest experience. The Belle Pente approach to farming and winemaking is highly traditional, and with the harvest dinner we shared another tradition of marking the season’s end. It’s difficult to describe, but this was a special experience.
The wines of course were top notch. Brian poured sparklers to begin, with the clean but simple 1997 Argyle Oregon Brut from magnum showing well enough next to a more mature NV Tattinger Champagne Brut. More impressive was the NV Bruno Palliard Champagne Brut, with terrific focus, freshness, and complexity.
Brian then paired wines to the multiple food courses, beginning with two from Alsace. The 2000 Rolly Gassman Riesling was good, lightly sweet with nice flavors, but not at the level of the 2002 Domaine Ostertag Riesling Munchberg Grand Cru. This was rich with some sweetness, but such terrific acidity, length, and mix of scents and flavors. I’ve heard some mixed things about Ostertag wines but never tried much. This was absolutely gorgeous with mixed greens and cigars of fig, hazelnut, and gorgonzola wrapped in prosciotto.
Next, two Belle Pente Chardonnay, the 2002 Estate Reserve and the 2004 Estate. Both showed well, not especially oaky but pretty. I think they suffered a little after the Rieslings, but still paired nicely with fish.
Then there was the main course, with nicely grilled flatiron strips, twice truffled potatoes, and braised carrots. What else to drink but a mix of red Burgundy and Belle Pente Pinot Noir, which held up well.
We began with the 1995 Roty Gevrey Chambertin Champs Chenys, tight and primary with five or ten years to go before maturity. Then the 1998 Leroy Pommard Les Vignots, which I thought was the class of the night. Backward and reduced at first, it blossomed into something beautiful. There’s nicely ripe fruit here, and also the finesse and complexity of nice Burgundy. It’s not overly tannic either, as the vintage reputation goes. This is village wine? Wow.
With these, we tried the 1996 Belle Pente Reserve, their first commercial vintage and produced from six barrels of Murto Vineyard Pinot Noir from the Dundee Hills. I’ve enjoyed a bunch of ‘96s from Oregon in the last few years, and this was another good one. Mature with some sous bois in the aroma and silky in the mouth, this is more than ready now but quite good. We also tried the 2001 Belle Pente Estate Reserve, which Brian likes for current drinking but I found it needing time to shed its remaining primary character. There’s also seemed to be a slight bitterness to the finish, but I think the wine just needs to rest still.
For dessert, nothing for me topped the 2001 Albert Mann Gewurztraminer Furstentum SGN, a honeyed but beautifully balanced, rich and exotic wine. Coming close was the 1993 Diszokno Tokaji Essencia, stunning in its own way. A full bottle of 2002 Belle Pente Pinot Gris VT was less impressive to me than recent half bottles, perhaps a touch volatile but still quite good dessert wine.
There were more wines still, and happily I had a bed down the hill at the harvest crew’s quarters. This was the night before my last work day, and falling asleep that night was especially sweet.
November 12, 2006
End of Harvest
The end of harvest at Belle Pente in Carlton, OR, meant more wine dinners and shorter work days. Shorter being 10 or 11 hours, not the 13+ hour hauls of weeks ago.
It felt right to see the season end when it did. The green was long gone from the vineyard and the branches showed in the spot that weeks ago offered only the first yellowing. The mornings frosted, the ground hardening, it was time for the seasonal worker to move on.
I learned a great deal this year, and I come away knowing that it’s time to make my own wine. Of course I’m doing that already. But this year I turned a corner so that from now on, I’m making wine, not just learning to make wine. There’s a big difference.
I also came away with a longer list of to do items than I had going in, which stands to reason if the more we learn, the more we discover questions. There’s no shortage of things to learn about winery operations, forklifts in particular, and the dreaded winery finance and accounting. Not to mention where I’m going to put next year’s wine, much less afford the grapes.
Oh yeah, where am I going to get grapes?
So there’s lots to do, but it’s the season for thinking and reading and researching so I have much to look forward to. Winter rains have returned, happily after all the grapes are long in. Fermentation interests turn from wine to bread and perhaps beer in this season, so there will be plenty to eat and drink along the way. The fervor of harvest is past, the new wines in bed and I’m enjoying the quiet of long fall nights.
But...does anybody know if it’s possible to bond your garage as a winery?
It felt right to see the season end when it did. The green was long gone from the vineyard and the branches showed in the spot that weeks ago offered only the first yellowing. The mornings frosted, the ground hardening, it was time for the seasonal worker to move on.
I learned a great deal this year, and I come away knowing that it’s time to make my own wine. Of course I’m doing that already. But this year I turned a corner so that from now on, I’m making wine, not just learning to make wine. There’s a big difference.
I also came away with a longer list of to do items than I had going in, which stands to reason if the more we learn, the more we discover questions. There’s no shortage of things to learn about winery operations, forklifts in particular, and the dreaded winery finance and accounting. Not to mention where I’m going to put next year’s wine, much less afford the grapes.
Oh yeah, where am I going to get grapes?
So there’s lots to do, but it’s the season for thinking and reading and researching so I have much to look forward to. Winter rains have returned, happily after all the grapes are long in. Fermentation interests turn from wine to bread and perhaps beer in this season, so there will be plenty to eat and drink along the way. The fervor of harvest is past, the new wines in bed and I’m enjoying the quiet of long fall nights.
But...does anybody know if it’s possible to bond your garage as a winery?
October 29, 2006
Are you reading the harvest reports?
Just back from another long day at the winery. Today saw the last fruit processed, one lot of spicy Gewurtztraminer and two separate lots of Riesling, one especially botrytized. This was my first opportunity to see and taste this much botrytis in white grapes. Was there enough to make a dessert Riesling? Maybe so, maybe not. It will all depend on how things progress.
Today began cold and foggy, my hands numb on the sorting line. By lunch I lay on the hill in the weak but still warm sun, resting for a moment before continuing. And I thought of harvest everywhere, and I remembered that Louis/Dressner Selections has terrific first hand 2006 harvest reports from many terrific French and maybe two Italian producers. Don't miss them.
Today began cold and foggy, my hands numb on the sorting line. By lunch I lay on the hill in the weak but still warm sun, resting for a moment before continuing. And I thought of harvest everywhere, and I remembered that Louis/Dressner Selections has terrific first hand 2006 harvest reports from many terrific French and maybe two Italian producers. Don't miss them.
October 23, 2006
Harvest Update
I pressed my ½ ton of Wahle Vineyard Pinot Noir last Friday, a few days after the brix fell below zero. Like many Pinot Noir makers, I wanted to give the new wine a chance to macerate on the grape skins for a few days before pressing to give more complexity.
Pressing took hours, as I had a small rented basket press that drained into two tubs that I rotated, one to catch the new wine while I took the other to the makeshift barrel room to pour into my barrel. You might be shocked at home much air exposure wine can see during pressing, but I think some oxygen exposure is good for the wine at this stage. I filled the 228L barrel with mostly free run juice and then two carboys with press wine, all of which tasted delicious if a little alcoholic.
On Sunday I tasted the wine after it had a chance to settle in the barrel just a bit. Still a vibrant purple color with some haziness, the aroma showed more winey fragrance and in the mouth the wine shows sweet fruit, less alcohol than before, and some nice acid that will decrease through secondary fermentation in the coming months.
Overall, I think the wine is quite good. Clearly leagues above what I’ve made to this date. Of course it’s early so there’s no congratulations yet. But I know I’m on to something here, and it honestly feels real good.
Meanwhile, life goes on at the winery where I’m working harvest. Things are definitely winding down for the season, with only some late harvested whites coming in later this week. All of the reds should be pressed and in barrel by then, so my last day will be next Monday.
The weather has been a little rainy, but with nice sunny days in between. No serious botrytis in the grapes still hanging, but there should be some nice dessert wines this year, noble sweet or not.
It’s been quite a season for me, with some serious ups and downs. But in the end, I think I find myself in a very good place, with more experience, with good wine in my cellar, and no less interest in continuing down this slightly insane path of winemaking. Who knows where it will lead.
By the way, one of the first days of harvest, some dudes from the University of Oregon stopped by the winery for a story they were doing for the college newspaper. Their story is here, sort of choppy but give the college kid a break. What's really cool is the video story that's linked here. Check it out. I’m in a few pictures, the guy in a white t-shirt with green silkscreen, misidentifed at one point as the winery owner raking grapes out of a bin. Sure, that would be nice.
Pressing took hours, as I had a small rented basket press that drained into two tubs that I rotated, one to catch the new wine while I took the other to the makeshift barrel room to pour into my barrel. You might be shocked at home much air exposure wine can see during pressing, but I think some oxygen exposure is good for the wine at this stage. I filled the 228L barrel with mostly free run juice and then two carboys with press wine, all of which tasted delicious if a little alcoholic.
On Sunday I tasted the wine after it had a chance to settle in the barrel just a bit. Still a vibrant purple color with some haziness, the aroma showed more winey fragrance and in the mouth the wine shows sweet fruit, less alcohol than before, and some nice acid that will decrease through secondary fermentation in the coming months.
Overall, I think the wine is quite good. Clearly leagues above what I’ve made to this date. Of course it’s early so there’s no congratulations yet. But I know I’m on to something here, and it honestly feels real good.
Meanwhile, life goes on at the winery where I’m working harvest. Things are definitely winding down for the season, with only some late harvested whites coming in later this week. All of the reds should be pressed and in barrel by then, so my last day will be next Monday.
The weather has been a little rainy, but with nice sunny days in between. No serious botrytis in the grapes still hanging, but there should be some nice dessert wines this year, noble sweet or not.
It’s been quite a season for me, with some serious ups and downs. But in the end, I think I find myself in a very good place, with more experience, with good wine in my cellar, and no less interest in continuing down this slightly insane path of winemaking. Who knows where it will lead.
By the way, one of the first days of harvest, some dudes from the University of Oregon stopped by the winery for a story they were doing for the college newspaper. Their story is here, sort of choppy but give the college kid a break. What's really cool is the video story that's linked here. Check it out. I’m in a few pictures, the guy in a white t-shirt with green silkscreen, misidentifed at one point as the winery owner raking grapes out of a bin. Sure, that would be nice.
October 16, 2006
Heading less than zero
Things are looking very good with my 2006 Wahle vineyard Pinot Noir. After lightly warming the must last Wednesday, all three bins began natural fermentation within twenty four hours. The ferments reached a peak temp of 93F over the weekend, and were above 90F for just over a day.
I battled some H2S, an eggy smell caused by nutrient deprived yeast that is a form of reduction. Air helps neutralize it, so I stirred the vats vigorous to add air and added some yeast nutrient to feed the ferment. Everything smells very nice now.
First brix reading two nights ago was 11, down from 24 at the start. Last night was 5.5. Tonight was 0 and maybe a hair under. I’m looking for –1.5 or so for total dryness. Cap temp is around 80 after tonight’s punchdown, and I’m cooling the fermentation room to let the wine temp cool gradually as primary fermentation finishes.
How does the new wine taste? A touch sweet even at 0 brix, but almost pretty smelling with fine tannin that I’ll watch closely. The acidity is likely covered by the sugar, and I hope so or else this could be a softer wine than I was hoping.
Pressing will likely be Thursday or Friday, depending on how things go. Just have to get the barrel and other containers prepped and the barrel area cleaned out. Then it will be time to open some nice bottles of wine and feast.
I battled some H2S, an eggy smell caused by nutrient deprived yeast that is a form of reduction. Air helps neutralize it, so I stirred the vats vigorous to add air and added some yeast nutrient to feed the ferment. Everything smells very nice now.
First brix reading two nights ago was 11, down from 24 at the start. Last night was 5.5. Tonight was 0 and maybe a hair under. I’m looking for –1.5 or so for total dryness. Cap temp is around 80 after tonight’s punchdown, and I’m cooling the fermentation room to let the wine temp cool gradually as primary fermentation finishes.
How does the new wine taste? A touch sweet even at 0 brix, but almost pretty smelling with fine tannin that I’ll watch closely. The acidity is likely covered by the sugar, and I hope so or else this could be a softer wine than I was hoping.
Pressing will likely be Thursday or Friday, depending on how things go. Just have to get the barrel and other containers prepped and the barrel area cleaned out. Then it will be time to open some nice bottles of wine and feast.
October 11, 2006
More havest, with actual wine notes
Monday I was back at the winery and it proved to be a cathartic day. Things are back on track.
I suppose it didn't hurt that Monday actually started on Sunday night, when I showed up for a nice harvest dinner with the extended winery crew. A former employee cooked a fabulous meal centered around two tremendous ducks stuffed with chantrells, leeks, and various meat. And of course we sampled a bevy of terrific wines.
Among the whites were the 1995 Evesham Wood Chardonnay Mahonia Vineyard from the south Salem Hills, young and aromatic. The 2001 Dauvissat Chablis Grand Cru Le Clos took a little time to open, but showed beautiful stony terroir and a lightly honeyed note. The 1999 Domaine Rollin Pere & Fils Pernand Vergelesses Blanc 1er Cru Sous Fretille had a similar stony quality, also very young and fragrant. A 2002 Domaine Serene Etoile Chardonnay from the Dundee Hills was more rich than the others with a yeasty quality, but still showed nice restraint and balance. Apparently no new oak on this one.
The top red for me was the 1999 Pavelot Le Corton Grand Cru had the perfume of the night, just tremendous but also young. Not so full on the palate as the others, but so subtle and complex already. Very fine wine. The 2000 Vincent Girardin Corton Bressands Grand Cru on the other hand was more dense and rich, but not oaky and quite attractive. I brought the 2001 Jean Foillard Morgon Cote du Py from the Beaujolais, and it was quite nice with a beautiful fragrance. It was lighter on the palate as it should be, but showed perfect maturity and really showed well. In the mix was another good Domaine Serene wine, this the 2000 Mark Bradford Pinot Noir that was a bit gaudy but otherwise tasted nice.
For dessert we had the powerful 2003 Durban Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise, sweet with an eau de vie fragrance. The 2003 Baumard Quarts du Chaume was a little controversial, some saying it was a little corked. Perhaps muted, but fresh to me and a little fat. I preferred the 2002 Belle Pente Riesling Vendange Tardive from Oregon, sweet but so nicely balanced with great length. Terrific with Tarte Tatin.
Then off to sleep in the crew's quarters before another long day of winery work. All of the red grapes and most of the whites are in, so duties in the winery shift from processing fruit to managing the cold soaks, kicking off fermentation in the bins that have finished soaking, punching down the active fermentations, and of course pressing the earliest lots that have already finished fermentation. And don’t forget preping barrels, and cleaning and loading the press, and cleaning again.
The weather has been terrific lately, and it helps to mix up the busy day with the occasional gaze upon the gorgeous scenery. I especially like the end of the day, when the long shadows and fading light reveal new details in the broad landscape. The hay fields have a hint of green again, and though the days are still warm, it’s only for a brief time each day as the nights grow long and cold.
Back at home, at this very moment I’m warming up my cold soaks to try and get fermentation started. I haven’t actively cooled them for days but they remain in the high 50s, which won’t help fermentation to kick off. So I’m heating the room and using an aquarium heater to boost things to the mid-60s or so and see if I can get the yeasts to start making some heat of their own.
Time to stir and then back to the winery tomorrow.
I suppose it didn't hurt that Monday actually started on Sunday night, when I showed up for a nice harvest dinner with the extended winery crew. A former employee cooked a fabulous meal centered around two tremendous ducks stuffed with chantrells, leeks, and various meat. And of course we sampled a bevy of terrific wines.
Among the whites were the 1995 Evesham Wood Chardonnay Mahonia Vineyard from the south Salem Hills, young and aromatic. The 2001 Dauvissat Chablis Grand Cru Le Clos took a little time to open, but showed beautiful stony terroir and a lightly honeyed note. The 1999 Domaine Rollin Pere & Fils Pernand Vergelesses Blanc 1er Cru Sous Fretille had a similar stony quality, also very young and fragrant. A 2002 Domaine Serene Etoile Chardonnay from the Dundee Hills was more rich than the others with a yeasty quality, but still showed nice restraint and balance. Apparently no new oak on this one.
The top red for me was the 1999 Pavelot Le Corton Grand Cru had the perfume of the night, just tremendous but also young. Not so full on the palate as the others, but so subtle and complex already. Very fine wine. The 2000 Vincent Girardin Corton Bressands Grand Cru on the other hand was more dense and rich, but not oaky and quite attractive. I brought the 2001 Jean Foillard Morgon Cote du Py from the Beaujolais, and it was quite nice with a beautiful fragrance. It was lighter on the palate as it should be, but showed perfect maturity and really showed well. In the mix was another good Domaine Serene wine, this the 2000 Mark Bradford Pinot Noir that was a bit gaudy but otherwise tasted nice.
For dessert we had the powerful 2003 Durban Muscat de Beaumes-de-Venise, sweet with an eau de vie fragrance. The 2003 Baumard Quarts du Chaume was a little controversial, some saying it was a little corked. Perhaps muted, but fresh to me and a little fat. I preferred the 2002 Belle Pente Riesling Vendange Tardive from Oregon, sweet but so nicely balanced with great length. Terrific with Tarte Tatin.
Then off to sleep in the crew's quarters before another long day of winery work. All of the red grapes and most of the whites are in, so duties in the winery shift from processing fruit to managing the cold soaks, kicking off fermentation in the bins that have finished soaking, punching down the active fermentations, and of course pressing the earliest lots that have already finished fermentation. And don’t forget preping barrels, and cleaning and loading the press, and cleaning again.
The weather has been terrific lately, and it helps to mix up the busy day with the occasional gaze upon the gorgeous scenery. I especially like the end of the day, when the long shadows and fading light reveal new details in the broad landscape. The hay fields have a hint of green again, and though the days are still warm, it’s only for a brief time each day as the nights grow long and cold.
Back at home, at this very moment I’m warming up my cold soaks to try and get fermentation started. I haven’t actively cooled them for days but they remain in the high 50s, which won’t help fermentation to kick off. So I’m heating the room and using an aquarium heater to boost things to the mid-60s or so and see if I can get the yeasts to start making some heat of their own.
Time to stir and then back to the winery tomorrow.
October 08, 2006
Harvest continues
It’s been a tough ten days.
First, the fun part. I got just under a half ton of ripe Pinot noir from the Wahle vineyard in the Yamhill-Carlton AVA here in the northern Willamette Valley. Ripe as in 25.5 brix, or percent sugar, soaking up to just over 26 after a few days of cold maceration.
The fruit looked immaculate, except for some obvious dehydration and occasional raisined berries. Those raisins take some time to release their sugar into the crushed mass of grapes and juice that fermentation will turn into wine.
Now, raisins in Pinot noir? I know. We’ll see how the flavors turn out in the wine, but the juice doesn’t taste raisiny at all. And there weren’t that many of them. More important at this point is that there was no rot and essentially no sorting to be done before crushing.
I got the grapes this past Wednesday. Why not earlier, when sugar levels were lower but flavors already nice? That’s where the trouble begins.
Basically, between my regular job and my harvest job, and my wife going out of town for a close friend’s wedding last weekend leaving me in the care of two young kids for four days and nights, I simply didn’t have the time. That and, lucky as I was to get the fruit processed at the winery where I’m working, I was stuck with their shifting schedule for processing red grapes. Wednesday turned out to be the only day that would work, so Wednesday it was, 26 brix grapes and all.
Such is life at harvest. As I wrote last time, you just can’t always get the grapes when you’d like. Not that I’m complaining. My homebrewing is still experimental, and this year I’m learning how to deal with slightly overripe fruit. The “real wine” lover in me wants to make wine just from what I harvest. But reality this year and my desire to get experience with things, even if only to why I might not do them in the future, wins out.
So, out came five gallons of lightly pigmented juice after one night of soaking to make some early drinking rosé. And in went the same amount of distilled water with some tartaric acid, to dilute the sugar level to approximately 24 brix and increase the acid level from 5g per liter to something between 7 and 8. Adding water to make wine? Yes, sacriledge. But I don’t want to end up with 15.5% alcohol Pinot noir with a ph above 4.0. Even if I did, that kind of low acid wine is just waiting for spoilage. Lower the ph to more normal ranges and you’re much more likely to end up with a drinkable, and giftable, wine.
I’m experimenting. Perhaps it will work ok. Perhaps not. There’s only one way to find out. And judging by what I’m seeing and hearing from around the valley, I’m not alone. No one wants to talk about adding water – acid is less taboo. And for those who wonder – won’t water dilute the flavors? Not really. So much flavor and color is still in the skins and only starting to leech into the juice, adding a little water now really just lowers the sugar level. And only a bit really.
Now I’m struggling to find time to monitor the wine as much as I’d like, not to monkey around with it any more than I have, but to learn by observing it and smelling it and generally getting to know it better. But work calls and my family calls, and sleep calls. Most significantly for my body and mind, the winery calls.
Really, I’m working only every third day, so that’s not so bad. But I’m struggling. It’s hard to find a rhythm when you don’t work every day, though I’m not sure my body would stand up to repeated 12 to 14 hour days without much downtime. Am I cut out for this winemaking stuff?
More significantly, I just don’t know my way around a professional winery either as much as I thought, or at least as much as I think I should know at this point. I’m not a total newbie, but truth be told my experience is not deep. And my mechanical nature has never been strong, and you’ll quickly find out that in a winery, just like on a contruction site, being handy is a big plus. I’m not very handy.
So I’m slower with tasks then I’d like. Many processes at this winery are new to me, so I’m forever bugging my co-workers with questions, then asking for clarification when their hurried answers don’t make much sense. Then asking where I can find whatever tools or gear they’re telling me to use. Needless to say, they get frustrated and I get frustrated with myself and, while it's not like the whole experience has been a disaster, far from it really, each day has taken a toll on me. I hate not knowing my way around a place, and I find sometimes I leave for my hour drive home a bit broken down.
Maybe some of it is just the physical work. Or maybe I just need to toughen up and accept that I’ve got a lot to learn and, as much as I’d like this to be more of a learning experience, a real internship, my job is to work hard and long hours and get things done quickly and right. No matter how many other things are on my mind, including the biggie – can I hack this kind of work?
So it’s back to the winery tomorrow, then back to my “real” job Tuesday after essentially not being there for much of the past couple weeks. My kids want me to take them to the park, but it’s raining lightly. And my own wine calls.
I’ll write again when I find the time and energy.
First, the fun part. I got just under a half ton of ripe Pinot noir from the Wahle vineyard in the Yamhill-Carlton AVA here in the northern Willamette Valley. Ripe as in 25.5 brix, or percent sugar, soaking up to just over 26 after a few days of cold maceration.
The fruit looked immaculate, except for some obvious dehydration and occasional raisined berries. Those raisins take some time to release their sugar into the crushed mass of grapes and juice that fermentation will turn into wine.
Now, raisins in Pinot noir? I know. We’ll see how the flavors turn out in the wine, but the juice doesn’t taste raisiny at all. And there weren’t that many of them. More important at this point is that there was no rot and essentially no sorting to be done before crushing.
I got the grapes this past Wednesday. Why not earlier, when sugar levels were lower but flavors already nice? That’s where the trouble begins.
Basically, between my regular job and my harvest job, and my wife going out of town for a close friend’s wedding last weekend leaving me in the care of two young kids for four days and nights, I simply didn’t have the time. That and, lucky as I was to get the fruit processed at the winery where I’m working, I was stuck with their shifting schedule for processing red grapes. Wednesday turned out to be the only day that would work, so Wednesday it was, 26 brix grapes and all.
Such is life at harvest. As I wrote last time, you just can’t always get the grapes when you’d like. Not that I’m complaining. My homebrewing is still experimental, and this year I’m learning how to deal with slightly overripe fruit. The “real wine” lover in me wants to make wine just from what I harvest. But reality this year and my desire to get experience with things, even if only to why I might not do them in the future, wins out.
So, out came five gallons of lightly pigmented juice after one night of soaking to make some early drinking rosé. And in went the same amount of distilled water with some tartaric acid, to dilute the sugar level to approximately 24 brix and increase the acid level from 5g per liter to something between 7 and 8. Adding water to make wine? Yes, sacriledge. But I don’t want to end up with 15.5% alcohol Pinot noir with a ph above 4.0. Even if I did, that kind of low acid wine is just waiting for spoilage. Lower the ph to more normal ranges and you’re much more likely to end up with a drinkable, and giftable, wine.
I’m experimenting. Perhaps it will work ok. Perhaps not. There’s only one way to find out. And judging by what I’m seeing and hearing from around the valley, I’m not alone. No one wants to talk about adding water – acid is less taboo. And for those who wonder – won’t water dilute the flavors? Not really. So much flavor and color is still in the skins and only starting to leech into the juice, adding a little water now really just lowers the sugar level. And only a bit really.
Now I’m struggling to find time to monitor the wine as much as I’d like, not to monkey around with it any more than I have, but to learn by observing it and smelling it and generally getting to know it better. But work calls and my family calls, and sleep calls. Most significantly for my body and mind, the winery calls.
Really, I’m working only every third day, so that’s not so bad. But I’m struggling. It’s hard to find a rhythm when you don’t work every day, though I’m not sure my body would stand up to repeated 12 to 14 hour days without much downtime. Am I cut out for this winemaking stuff?
More significantly, I just don’t know my way around a professional winery either as much as I thought, or at least as much as I think I should know at this point. I’m not a total newbie, but truth be told my experience is not deep. And my mechanical nature has never been strong, and you’ll quickly find out that in a winery, just like on a contruction site, being handy is a big plus. I’m not very handy.
So I’m slower with tasks then I’d like. Many processes at this winery are new to me, so I’m forever bugging my co-workers with questions, then asking for clarification when their hurried answers don’t make much sense. Then asking where I can find whatever tools or gear they’re telling me to use. Needless to say, they get frustrated and I get frustrated with myself and, while it's not like the whole experience has been a disaster, far from it really, each day has taken a toll on me. I hate not knowing my way around a place, and I find sometimes I leave for my hour drive home a bit broken down.
Maybe some of it is just the physical work. Or maybe I just need to toughen up and accept that I’ve got a lot to learn and, as much as I’d like this to be more of a learning experience, a real internship, my job is to work hard and long hours and get things done quickly and right. No matter how many other things are on my mind, including the biggie – can I hack this kind of work?
So it’s back to the winery tomorrow, then back to my “real” job Tuesday after essentially not being there for much of the past couple weeks. My kids want me to take them to the park, but it’s raining lightly. And my own wine calls.
I’ll write again when I find the time and energy.
September 29, 2006
Harvest arrivée
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.
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 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.
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