Seattle road trip

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Harvest approaching

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Guild exposure

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

Guild Winemakers

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

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

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

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

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

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

2002 Clos de la Roilette Fleurie

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

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

Wine labels from Imprint Design in Portland

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Machine harvesting pinot noir

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vincent Wines Open House September 18

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

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

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

A visit to Luminous Hills Vineyard

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Vincent 2009 Pinot Noir Futures

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

The Billionaire's Vinegar

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

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

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

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

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

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

So I grew up with wine.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wow -- 2009 Evesham Wood Rose of Tempranillo Willamette Valley

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

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

Yes. The best.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tasting by suggestion

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

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

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

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

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

Vincent futures offer is out

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

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

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

Nocino Sunday

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Reflecting on Evesham Wood

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Continuing adventures...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

PDXploration on Seven of Hearts|Luminous Hills & Honest Chocolates

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

Racking the 2009s

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

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

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

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

élevage and 32 Days of Natural Wine

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

A field trip to reWine Barrels in Salem

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

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

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

Inside the workshop are barrels in various stages of rehabilitation.

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

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

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

Barrels before shaving.

Barrels after shaving.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

2007 La Gramiere rouge

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

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

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

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

1995 Ch. Beaucastel Chateauneuf du Pape

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Armstrong Vineyard, Part 3: June

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

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


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

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

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

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

Today's been cold and rainy again in Portland.

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

400th post

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

Thinking about natural wine

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

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

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

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

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

New releases from Arterberry Maresh

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

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

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

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

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