Continuing marketplace saga

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

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

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

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

Three fourths of Quattro Mani

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

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

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

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

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

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

New wines and old at Red Hills in Dundee

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

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

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

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



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

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

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

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


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

Nostrana e Perbacco

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

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

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

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

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

Cabot wines of California's Humboldt county

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

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

Probably surrounded by pot farms. Ok, enough already.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Cotes du Rhone

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

But the lesson is clear - think Cotes du Rhone.

2001 Vega Scilia Valbuena 5° Ribera del Duero

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

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

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

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

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

NV Ruinart Champagne Rose

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

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

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

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

Lunch at Carafe

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

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

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

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

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

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

2007 Mas d'Intras Cuvee des Helviens

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

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

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

BerserkerDay 2011

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

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

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

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

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

Feast of St. Vincent

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

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

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

Malolactic fermentation

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

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

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

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

Bandol, and thinking of remote

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

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

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

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

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

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

Two nights of trouble

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2008 Seven of Hearts Pinot Noir Willamette Valley

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

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

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

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

Oregon's most mysterious wine

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

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

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

Schone Schlucht Riesling

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

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

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

New Year's Eve and waffles

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

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

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

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

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

Checking in on 2006 Vincent

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

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

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

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