I was fortunate enough to visit the other day with Tom Mortimer of Le Cadeau Vineyard on Parrett Mountain.
Tom and his wife Deb are unusual in Oregon wine because they live most of the year in Minneapolis, MN. Some years back Tom bought a company based in Dundee and fell in love with Oregon. With a serious wine hobby, it seemed logical to find land and plant a vineyard.
A long search ended at a very rocky southern exposure on Parrett Mountain, south of Newberg proper and just north of the Willamette River, which flows west to east here a short way before turning north again.
The land was a mess. The fir trees had largely been logged, with some notable exceptions. Maples, scotch broom, brambles and poison oak flourished. There wasn’t a view, much less anywhere to plant. But the Mortimers cleared the land, revealing a gorgeous view and seriously rocky soil on which to “create the environment” they wanted.
Much of the northern Willamette Valley vineyards are planted in deep but infertile soils where the roots may never reach the bedrock. There are some areas with shallower soils, but I haven’t seen anything like the bare rock in the vineyards of Parrett Mountain. Chunks of fractured basalt at the surface, with a foot or two of soil in places north and east, but essentially bare rock to the west and south. It’s not the white and grey limestone of Burgundy, it’s rusty red Oregon basalt and it’s beautiful.
Planting was more than challenging in the unforgiving ground. As you go west, you notice the senic wooden trellis posts giving way to metal bars that are the only things able to penetrate the rock. The result is a slow growing vineyard, with smaller vines that produce grapes that seem to show the mineral flavor of the site.
The vineyard itself is a mix of rootstocks and clones, all the Dijon regulars and Pommard, along with the little known Mariafeld clone from Switzerland that produces a large, blackfruited wine. The elevation ranges from 610 to 725 feet, on the higher side for Oregon but still well within the norm.
Plantings were in 1999 and 2002, with additional plans for the uncleared ravine to the southwest. It’s a steep, rocky site that could be terrific if not expensive. But the entire project has been expensive, which led to the name “Black Hole Vineyard” that you don't see on the wine bottles.
How's the wine, you ask? Next time.
May 30, 2006
May 28, 2006
Oregon Winery Visits
Memorial Day weekend is traditionally the time, along with Thanksgiving, that Willamette Valley wineries open to the public. But I’m sick this weekend and I don’t really like the crowds and traffic anyway, so here’s a recap of some winery visits earlier this month when crowds were low and the roads clear.
We started at Chehalem, which was holding their annual Pinot Noir “best barrel” event. They selected, naturally, what they think is the “best” barrel in the cellar of each of their three vineyards from 2005 for tasting and purchase. The barrels will be bottled separately. The idea is you’ll get the wine exactly from the barrels you tried.
In theory, it’s interesting. But barrel samples are hard to gague, and the whole notion of a “best barrel” seems hokey. Sure, winemakers always have their “best barrels” but selling that to the public seems to me to undermine the whole “wine as a common beverage” thing.
Still, it was a nice chance to taste 2005 Pinot Noir. The Corral Creek was the only heavily oaked wine, with spicy caramel and red fruits. Hopefully they’ll rack this wine into neutral oak until bottling to keep the oak level in check. The Ridgecrest was nicely peppery with signature black fruit and spice. But this wine still has to finish malolactic fermentation, so it will change considerably before bottling. The Stoller was brighter than usual, showing perhaps the cool harvest. Very nice overall, love the balance and loamy, cherry fruit.
From bottle, we also taste the 2004 Cerise, a mostly Gamay and Pinot Noir blend. Delicious, peppery with cool red fruit, very easy to drink. The 2004 3 Vineyard Pinot Noir was a bit wan, just soft and dull today. And the 2004 Corral Creek Pinot Noir lacked the verve of the Cerise and the 2005s.
Chehalem isn’t open to the public regularly, so this was a nice chance to visit the property. But it seems like more and more producers are opening up to the public, and some are building some pretty significant tasting rooms. So we thought we’d check out Penner-Ash’s new place, a big winery on a previously uncharted hill (wine-wise) surrounded by a new estate vineyard.
The wines are equally large-scaled as the facility. Oddly enough, the 2005 Roseo was my favorite wine. Dry, crisp rose with perfume and nerve, surprisingly good. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley fits the house style. Big and rich flavors with a polished texture and just the proper amount of spicy oak for an entry level wine at $40. The 2003 Syrah was not so oaky but not terribly varietal. And the 2004 Rubeo, a blend of more Pinot Noir and less Syrah was more Pinot Noir like, oaky with typcial polish. These are impressive wines, so that our guests loved them. But I find them too flawless, glossy rather than toned and too oak influenced. And the prices don't help, at least for this shopper.
Then on to Bergstrom, another new tasting room that is less grand than Penner-Ash but not less pricey. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley was good with spicy red fruit. The 2004 Cumberland Reserve was tannic and chewy, more to the house style here. Even more backward was the 2004 Broadley Vineyard, from Monroe in the southern Willamette Valley. Very dark, monolithic with that’s all structure now. Hard to say where a wine like this will end up, but I wouldn’t count on resolution. The 2004 de Lancelotti, the “estate” vineyard around the modest winery on sedimentary soils, had the most unique aroma, with anise and grass, very interesting but tight on the palate, another wine that needs time to show what it has. Finally, the 2004 Bergstrom Vineyard from the Red Hills, just above the Le Pavillon vineyard on the top of a knoll above Worden Hill Road. The was softer and more fragrant, as you would expect the Red Hills to be, cherries, oak spice, less tannic than the others and tasty. But worth $70? Not to me, but the small crowd seemed sold. I can’t argue with that.
So that was the day. Stay tuned for part two of my recent adventures, a visit to Le Cadeau Vineyard on Parrett Mountain.
We started at Chehalem, which was holding their annual Pinot Noir “best barrel” event. They selected, naturally, what they think is the “best” barrel in the cellar of each of their three vineyards from 2005 for tasting and purchase. The barrels will be bottled separately. The idea is you’ll get the wine exactly from the barrels you tried.
In theory, it’s interesting. But barrel samples are hard to gague, and the whole notion of a “best barrel” seems hokey. Sure, winemakers always have their “best barrels” but selling that to the public seems to me to undermine the whole “wine as a common beverage” thing.
Still, it was a nice chance to taste 2005 Pinot Noir. The Corral Creek was the only heavily oaked wine, with spicy caramel and red fruits. Hopefully they’ll rack this wine into neutral oak until bottling to keep the oak level in check. The Ridgecrest was nicely peppery with signature black fruit and spice. But this wine still has to finish malolactic fermentation, so it will change considerably before bottling. The Stoller was brighter than usual, showing perhaps the cool harvest. Very nice overall, love the balance and loamy, cherry fruit.
From bottle, we also taste the 2004 Cerise, a mostly Gamay and Pinot Noir blend. Delicious, peppery with cool red fruit, very easy to drink. The 2004 3 Vineyard Pinot Noir was a bit wan, just soft and dull today. And the 2004 Corral Creek Pinot Noir lacked the verve of the Cerise and the 2005s.
Chehalem isn’t open to the public regularly, so this was a nice chance to visit the property. But it seems like more and more producers are opening up to the public, and some are building some pretty significant tasting rooms. So we thought we’d check out Penner-Ash’s new place, a big winery on a previously uncharted hill (wine-wise) surrounded by a new estate vineyard.
The wines are equally large-scaled as the facility. Oddly enough, the 2005 Roseo was my favorite wine. Dry, crisp rose with perfume and nerve, surprisingly good. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley fits the house style. Big and rich flavors with a polished texture and just the proper amount of spicy oak for an entry level wine at $40. The 2003 Syrah was not so oaky but not terribly varietal. And the 2004 Rubeo, a blend of more Pinot Noir and less Syrah was more Pinot Noir like, oaky with typcial polish. These are impressive wines, so that our guests loved them. But I find them too flawless, glossy rather than toned and too oak influenced. And the prices don't help, at least for this shopper.
Then on to Bergstrom, another new tasting room that is less grand than Penner-Ash but not less pricey. The 2004 Pinot Noir Willamette Valley was good with spicy red fruit. The 2004 Cumberland Reserve was tannic and chewy, more to the house style here. Even more backward was the 2004 Broadley Vineyard, from Monroe in the southern Willamette Valley. Very dark, monolithic with that’s all structure now. Hard to say where a wine like this will end up, but I wouldn’t count on resolution. The 2004 de Lancelotti, the “estate” vineyard around the modest winery on sedimentary soils, had the most unique aroma, with anise and grass, very interesting but tight on the palate, another wine that needs time to show what it has. Finally, the 2004 Bergstrom Vineyard from the Red Hills, just above the Le Pavillon vineyard on the top of a knoll above Worden Hill Road. The was softer and more fragrant, as you would expect the Red Hills to be, cherries, oak spice, less tannic than the others and tasty. But worth $70? Not to me, but the small crowd seemed sold. I can’t argue with that.
So that was the day. Stay tuned for part two of my recent adventures, a visit to Le Cadeau Vineyard on Parrett Mountain.
May 26, 2006
Zinfandel tasting
My tasting group met again recently to taste Zinfandel, so hot in the 1990s but taking more of a back seat in wine circles these days in favor of Syrah.
I love good Zinfandel, a grape that gives about as widely varying wines as you’ll find. And I’m not immediately put off by high alcohol Zinfandel as I am, for example, with Pinot Noir. Like with southern Rhone reds, sometimes a little warmth can add to the exuberance of Zinfandel, which really shouldn’t ever be shy. With a bucket of ribs, nothing beats a big Zin.
With that in mind, I completely enjoyed this tasting even when the wines weren’t exactly elegant or graceful.
We tasted five wines blind, the first being the 2003 Carol Shelton “Wild Thing” from the Cox Vineyard in Mendocino County. Dark ruby violet in color, it showed a fumey, coconutty, waxy red berry aroma, the most obviously oaked wine in the bunch. In the mouth, full bodied with wood tannin and charred berry fruit, maybe a hint of residual sugar. Graceful? No. Elegant? No. Something I’d buy and cellar? No. But with that bucket of ribs, yes. My least favorite here and still worthwhile. Note that the “wild” part is natural yeast fermentation, which didn’t give out until the wine reached more than 15% alcohol.
Next came an older dark ruby wine, with minty brambly zinberry aromas, the mint giving a high-toned component to the perfume. Silky in the mouth, round and mature, not terribly deep but elegant with bright acids and delicious. This was the 1996 Ridge Geyserville, an old vine blend of around 75% Zinfandel and the rest Petite Sirah, Carignane, and Mataro (Mourvedre). Interesting thing about this wine, on release it was quite oaky and not “classic” Ridge. But a few years have yielded a wonderfully integrated old vine wine, classically California.
The third wine was more mature but not old looking, with a muted aroma at first. Then fresher fruit, some volatility but nice complexity, I rated this first on the aroma alone. In the mouth, it’s finely tannic with bright red berry flavors, winey with good length and an integrated feel. This was the 1996 Ravenswood Monte Rosso Vineyard from Louis Martini’s old Sonoma Valley property.
The next wine was the darkest, with a youthful dark red violet color and a sweet, pie filling aroma. Buttery oak, waxy smelling with some pleasant youthful herbaceousness amid the superripe quailities. Big, ripe and round in the mouth, with grape tannin and some obvious alcohol, chewy and tannic but nicely done if a touch overoaked. This was the 2003 Dashe Dry Creek Valley, made by Mike Dashe, formerly of Ridge, who’s made some Zinfandel I’ve perferred more than this one.
Last was a ringer of sorts, the younger vine 2003 Maryhill Zinfandel from the Columbia Valley in Washington state. The cheapest of the lot, but not at all out of class here. Dark ruby with a positiviely huge black pepper aroma, with sweet pie filling and dry herb aroma, all very interesting. Jammy, even a bit goopy but with good tannic structure and even some grapefruity acid that might be added (or not) but seemed well integrated either way. Not bad at all, another good one for a bucket of ribs.
To cap the evening, we tried a half bottle blind. Turbid with sediment with some maturity and a fragrant, ripe but restrained slightly raisiny, spicy aroma. Mildly sweet on the palate with nice balance and concentration, overall a terrific late harvest zinfandel without any volatility. It turns out to be the 1993 Ridge Essence, from the Dusi Ranch in Paso Robles if memory serves.
In sum, a terrific evening of fun, loud wines that’s rekindled my love for Zinfandel. You should try some too.
I love good Zinfandel, a grape that gives about as widely varying wines as you’ll find. And I’m not immediately put off by high alcohol Zinfandel as I am, for example, with Pinot Noir. Like with southern Rhone reds, sometimes a little warmth can add to the exuberance of Zinfandel, which really shouldn’t ever be shy. With a bucket of ribs, nothing beats a big Zin.
With that in mind, I completely enjoyed this tasting even when the wines weren’t exactly elegant or graceful.
We tasted five wines blind, the first being the 2003 Carol Shelton “Wild Thing” from the Cox Vineyard in Mendocino County. Dark ruby violet in color, it showed a fumey, coconutty, waxy red berry aroma, the most obviously oaked wine in the bunch. In the mouth, full bodied with wood tannin and charred berry fruit, maybe a hint of residual sugar. Graceful? No. Elegant? No. Something I’d buy and cellar? No. But with that bucket of ribs, yes. My least favorite here and still worthwhile. Note that the “wild” part is natural yeast fermentation, which didn’t give out until the wine reached more than 15% alcohol.
Next came an older dark ruby wine, with minty brambly zinberry aromas, the mint giving a high-toned component to the perfume. Silky in the mouth, round and mature, not terribly deep but elegant with bright acids and delicious. This was the 1996 Ridge Geyserville, an old vine blend of around 75% Zinfandel and the rest Petite Sirah, Carignane, and Mataro (Mourvedre). Interesting thing about this wine, on release it was quite oaky and not “classic” Ridge. But a few years have yielded a wonderfully integrated old vine wine, classically California.
The third wine was more mature but not old looking, with a muted aroma at first. Then fresher fruit, some volatility but nice complexity, I rated this first on the aroma alone. In the mouth, it’s finely tannic with bright red berry flavors, winey with good length and an integrated feel. This was the 1996 Ravenswood Monte Rosso Vineyard from Louis Martini’s old Sonoma Valley property.
The next wine was the darkest, with a youthful dark red violet color and a sweet, pie filling aroma. Buttery oak, waxy smelling with some pleasant youthful herbaceousness amid the superripe quailities. Big, ripe and round in the mouth, with grape tannin and some obvious alcohol, chewy and tannic but nicely done if a touch overoaked. This was the 2003 Dashe Dry Creek Valley, made by Mike Dashe, formerly of Ridge, who’s made some Zinfandel I’ve perferred more than this one.
Last was a ringer of sorts, the younger vine 2003 Maryhill Zinfandel from the Columbia Valley in Washington state. The cheapest of the lot, but not at all out of class here. Dark ruby with a positiviely huge black pepper aroma, with sweet pie filling and dry herb aroma, all very interesting. Jammy, even a bit goopy but with good tannic structure and even some grapefruity acid that might be added (or not) but seemed well integrated either way. Not bad at all, another good one for a bucket of ribs.
To cap the evening, we tried a half bottle blind. Turbid with sediment with some maturity and a fragrant, ripe but restrained slightly raisiny, spicy aroma. Mildly sweet on the palate with nice balance and concentration, overall a terrific late harvest zinfandel without any volatility. It turns out to be the 1993 Ridge Essence, from the Dusi Ranch in Paso Robles if memory serves.
In sum, a terrific evening of fun, loud wines that’s rekindled my love for Zinfandel. You should try some too.
May 19, 2006
Reading about Oregon wine
Did you notice the big feature on Oregon wine yesterday in the weekly Wine section of the San Francisco Chronicle? It’s worth a read.
Smart of the Chron to get local guy Cole Danehauer to write the piece. Cole writes for the online Oregon Wine Report. He does a good job here conveying the latest happenings in the Willamette Valley to an audience outside Oregon.
Also, today I noticed the latest issue of the Oregon Wine Press magazine, newly redesigned (sort of) after being acquired by News-Register Publishing in McMinnville, down in Yamhill County.
Turns out OWP’s founding operators had to suddenly back away from the business early this year, but the new owner is keeping the publication open with Hilary Berg as managing editor.
The first issue, May 2006, is mostly listings for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend winery fest. But even the scant few articles put together apparently in very short time suggest a brighter future for this fun but probably too folksy publication.
Out with the bizarre if occasionally brilliant interviews and periodic rants about Oregon wine marketing. In perhaps with more consistent coverage of what’s really going on in Oregon wine production, though hopefully without any wine country lifestyle drivel.
And not Oregon related, but I get the Wine Spectator and can you believe that there’s a letter in the latest issue (June 15, 2006) from Kermit Lynch congratulating the publication on its 30th anniversary. He even writes something like “I can’t imagine the wine world without Wine Spectator.”
I don’t know what to make of it, but I couldn’t miss mentioning it. Is he joking?
Smart of the Chron to get local guy Cole Danehauer to write the piece. Cole writes for the online Oregon Wine Report. He does a good job here conveying the latest happenings in the Willamette Valley to an audience outside Oregon.
Also, today I noticed the latest issue of the Oregon Wine Press magazine, newly redesigned (sort of) after being acquired by News-Register Publishing in McMinnville, down in Yamhill County.
Turns out OWP’s founding operators had to suddenly back away from the business early this year, but the new owner is keeping the publication open with Hilary Berg as managing editor.
The first issue, May 2006, is mostly listings for the upcoming Memorial Day weekend winery fest. But even the scant few articles put together apparently in very short time suggest a brighter future for this fun but probably too folksy publication.
Out with the bizarre if occasionally brilliant interviews and periodic rants about Oregon wine marketing. In perhaps with more consistent coverage of what’s really going on in Oregon wine production, though hopefully without any wine country lifestyle drivel.
And not Oregon related, but I get the Wine Spectator and can you believe that there’s a letter in the latest issue (June 15, 2006) from Kermit Lynch congratulating the publication on its 30th anniversary. He even writes something like “I can’t imagine the wine world without Wine Spectator.”
I don’t know what to make of it, but I couldn’t miss mentioning it. Is he joking?
May 15, 2006
The best $6 red there is
Although I'm hardly the first to say it, the Italian wine producer Masciarelli makes what might be the best $6 (or so) red wine there is.
The latest vintage of their estate bottled Montepulciano d'Abruzzo is the 2002, a rainy harvest in much of Italy that might lead one to believe this wine isn't worth your time if not the few dollars it costs.
But don't be fooled. This might be the best of many years of Masciarelli Montepulciano that I've tried. Consistently rich and fragrant, with a depth that wine two or three times the price hopes for.
Typically this wine is "food" wine, meaning it's not a little bit crisp and tannic. Yet this year's model, while rustic as usual, has an elegance that makes it good with or without dinner.
Most people will call this wine "pizza" wine, suitable only for simple fare. But pop this in a decanter and tell me if it doesn't smell something like a higher grade Tuscan red, and a good one too. I'd serve this with any sort of roasted meat or musroom ragu. Or pizza if you must.
The latest vintage of their estate bottled Montepulciano d'Abruzzo is the 2002, a rainy harvest in much of Italy that might lead one to believe this wine isn't worth your time if not the few dollars it costs.
But don't be fooled. This might be the best of many years of Masciarelli Montepulciano that I've tried. Consistently rich and fragrant, with a depth that wine two or three times the price hopes for.
Typically this wine is "food" wine, meaning it's not a little bit crisp and tannic. Yet this year's model, while rustic as usual, has an elegance that makes it good with or without dinner.
Most people will call this wine "pizza" wine, suitable only for simple fare. But pop this in a decanter and tell me if it doesn't smell something like a higher grade Tuscan red, and a good one too. I'd serve this with any sort of roasted meat or musroom ragu. Or pizza if you must.
May 07, 2006
Oregon whites
For all the attention paid to Pinot Noir, the northern Willamette Valley produces some terrific white wines. Not all of them Chardonnay, by the way. I tried a few recently that are worth mentioning.
The first was the 2003 Brooks Amycas, a kitchen sink blend that turned out very well. And it’s still going strong. Mostly Pinot Gris and Riesling with some Gewurztraminer, it’s very Gewurz-like with a floral, spicy muscatty aroma and a lightly alcoholic, sweet lychee flavor. This I believe was from the late Jimi Brooks’ last harvest, a nice if simple tribute to him.
Next came the 2004 J. Christopher Sauvignon Blanc Croft Vineyard. Sauvignon Blanc isn’t that common in the Willamette Valley, but with the warmer years recently it seems like a nice prospect for the future. The wine didn’t show nearly as well as some months back, when it was bright and grassy and simply delicious. This night it seemed muted but still tasty. I imagine the 2005 will out soon, I’d look for that one.
Finally the 2004 Francis Tannahill Gewurztraminer Dragonfly, from the Dragonfly vineyard in the Columbia River Gorge east of Portland. This was alcoholic at first and a bit stinky, though fresh and oily rich on the palate. But night two the wine really shined. It smelled sweet like a light dessert wine and tasted viscous and rich, lacking only acidity as the grape does notoriously. This isn’t my first choice for the dinner table, but it’s interesting wine and worth trying if you looking for something off the beaten path.
The first was the 2003 Brooks Amycas, a kitchen sink blend that turned out very well. And it’s still going strong. Mostly Pinot Gris and Riesling with some Gewurztraminer, it’s very Gewurz-like with a floral, spicy muscatty aroma and a lightly alcoholic, sweet lychee flavor. This I believe was from the late Jimi Brooks’ last harvest, a nice if simple tribute to him.
Next came the 2004 J. Christopher Sauvignon Blanc Croft Vineyard. Sauvignon Blanc isn’t that common in the Willamette Valley, but with the warmer years recently it seems like a nice prospect for the future. The wine didn’t show nearly as well as some months back, when it was bright and grassy and simply delicious. This night it seemed muted but still tasty. I imagine the 2005 will out soon, I’d look for that one.
Finally the 2004 Francis Tannahill Gewurztraminer Dragonfly, from the Dragonfly vineyard in the Columbia River Gorge east of Portland. This was alcoholic at first and a bit stinky, though fresh and oily rich on the palate. But night two the wine really shined. It smelled sweet like a light dessert wine and tasted viscous and rich, lacking only acidity as the grape does notoriously. This isn’t my first choice for the dinner table, but it’s interesting wine and worth trying if you looking for something off the beaten path.
Grochau Cellars Pinot Noir
Surfing the web the other day, I came across this piece on Grochau Cellars from last year on NPR’s business program Marketplace.
Grochau Cellars is one of many upstart wineries in the northern Willamette Valley. John Grochau is the man behind the curtain here, a former assistant at Brick House as well as sommelier at the terrific Portland restaurant Higgins. The winery isn’t paying the bills for John, yet. You can still find him working a few nights a week at the restaurant.
But it seems like only a matter of time before that goes away, based on what I’ve tried.
I first heard about John from my neighbors who’ve known him for years, back when they were bike mechanics well versed in tune ups and safety breaks.
The first Grochau wine I tried was a very small production “negociant” wine John bought in bulk and blended for a friend’s wedding. Some went to the wedding, some went to local stores simply labelled as “Red” for about $10. This Bordeaux-blend from eastern Washington wasn’t distinguished, but was pretty nice drinking for the price. Apparently John’s coming out with a larger production follow up soon.
But the main wine for Grochau Cellars so far is the Pinot Noir. At Higgins recently we ordered a bottle of the ’04 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, and I have to say this is the most exciting Oregon Pinot Noir I’ve tried in a while. Deep but translucent in color, this has terrific fragrace – perfumed red and black cherries with subtle oak spice and a distinctive mineral note, very well integrated and pretty but wound so that time should only reveal more nuance.
In the mouth this wine is elegant but rich, flavory without heaviness, just the quality I look for in red wine. It’s not so complex as it is pretty, with light tannin and fresh acidity that should hold the wine together for years. The first bottle was emptied quickly, and a second ordered without hesitation. Had I been served this blind, I might have guessed this was from Evesham Wood, perhaps my favorite Oregon producer.
The best part? I think this retails for $24 or so, and it can be found for less. It’s $35 on the Higgins list, which is still quite a deal in top flight Oregon Pinot Noir. 2004 was a small harvest, and Grochau Cellars doesn’t make much wine. But I’ve seen past vintages at major retailers outside Oregon, so it is out there if you do some digging.
More soon after I set up a visit with this exciting new discovery.
Grochau Cellars is one of many upstart wineries in the northern Willamette Valley. John Grochau is the man behind the curtain here, a former assistant at Brick House as well as sommelier at the terrific Portland restaurant Higgins. The winery isn’t paying the bills for John, yet. You can still find him working a few nights a week at the restaurant.
But it seems like only a matter of time before that goes away, based on what I’ve tried.
I first heard about John from my neighbors who’ve known him for years, back when they were bike mechanics well versed in tune ups and safety breaks.
The first Grochau wine I tried was a very small production “negociant” wine John bought in bulk and blended for a friend’s wedding. Some went to the wedding, some went to local stores simply labelled as “Red” for about $10. This Bordeaux-blend from eastern Washington wasn’t distinguished, but was pretty nice drinking for the price. Apparently John’s coming out with a larger production follow up soon.
But the main wine for Grochau Cellars so far is the Pinot Noir. At Higgins recently we ordered a bottle of the ’04 Willamette Valley Pinot Noir, and I have to say this is the most exciting Oregon Pinot Noir I’ve tried in a while. Deep but translucent in color, this has terrific fragrace – perfumed red and black cherries with subtle oak spice and a distinctive mineral note, very well integrated and pretty but wound so that time should only reveal more nuance.
In the mouth this wine is elegant but rich, flavory without heaviness, just the quality I look for in red wine. It’s not so complex as it is pretty, with light tannin and fresh acidity that should hold the wine together for years. The first bottle was emptied quickly, and a second ordered without hesitation. Had I been served this blind, I might have guessed this was from Evesham Wood, perhaps my favorite Oregon producer.
The best part? I think this retails for $24 or so, and it can be found for less. It’s $35 on the Higgins list, which is still quite a deal in top flight Oregon Pinot Noir. 2004 was a small harvest, and Grochau Cellars doesn’t make much wine. But I’ve seen past vintages at major retailers outside Oregon, so it is out there if you do some digging.
More soon after I set up a visit with this exciting new discovery.
Stoller’s new LEED-certified winery
The scene – a gorgeous Oregon spring day, and I found myself touring the newly opened winery at Stoller Vineyards. The facility is solar powered with features and workspace that are embarassingly attractive.
Stoller is located on the southwestern most flank of the Dundee Hills. It’s a former turkey ranch with premium southern exposure, and a steeper upper slope than I previously realized. Along with the deep but low fertility Jory soils and volcanic basalt geology, this is certainly one of the most ideal sites in the northern Willamette Valley.
The Stollers are partners in Chelalem winery in Newberg, long the source of the most visible Stoller vineyard Pinot Noir in the market. But over the past few years, the Stollers have produced their own label, initially at Chelalem but now in this sparkling new facility just below the vineyard.
The crushpad and fermentation room are the ground and top floor of the foursquare facility. (If there’s any criticism to make, it would be about the fairly bland outward appearance. But that’s picking nits.) Inside there’s a line of stainless steel fermentors, 3- and 5-ton varieties, elevated between tracks that can hold equipment for crushing straight into the vats or doing mechanical punchdowns. Very nice on the shoulders and back.
There’s a middle level below the fermentation room where pressed wine can settle before moving to barrels below, and space for case wine storage. To bottom level is the cave, with multiple barrel storage rooms carved between the load bearing walls. That allows the red wine barrels to be kept cool while other space is warmed when necessary for white wine barrel fermentation. There’s no having to do it all in one open space like you find in many other facilities.
After the barrel rooms came the solar power set up. Apparently the facility captures enough sun-energy to power 40% of the winery at maximum usage. Most of the time they feed power back to the grid, so the facility uses substantially less commercial energy than it ordinarily would.
The office and lab space was impressive, as was the stylish – perhaps too much so – tasting room. In short, the facility looks like terrific place to produce wine. And winemaker Melissa Burr, formerly of Cooper Mountain, seems like the whole package.
How are the wines? Commercially very good. Not terribly distinctive, and not my favorite wines, but well make, fairly priced, and most certainly good drinking.
The ’04 Chardonnay is plump and toasty but not overdone and retaining some fresh acidity. The ’04 “JV” Pinot Noir is designed to drink young. It’s bright and fruity, almost candied, but pleasantly earthy with a touch of sulfur that should go away.
The main wine is the ’03 Pinot Noir, which is ripe but not as ripe as I would have guessed from such a warm vintage. Stoller vineyard is a warm site with a low elevation in the lowest blocks. But this ’03 was pretty attractive, with some alcohol and generic toastiness along with distinctive turned earth aromas mixing with the signature macerated cherries. Very attractive wine that won’t be hard to sell, despite the uninspiring label design.
All in all, the site is top notch, the facility is top notch, and the wines are safe but good in their way. What if this producer really broke out and produced something of more intensity without quite the heft? Is that possible in this warm-site vineyard? Time will tell as the producer grows into its new facility. But so far, so good.
Stoller is located on the southwestern most flank of the Dundee Hills. It’s a former turkey ranch with premium southern exposure, and a steeper upper slope than I previously realized. Along with the deep but low fertility Jory soils and volcanic basalt geology, this is certainly one of the most ideal sites in the northern Willamette Valley.
The Stollers are partners in Chelalem winery in Newberg, long the source of the most visible Stoller vineyard Pinot Noir in the market. But over the past few years, the Stollers have produced their own label, initially at Chelalem but now in this sparkling new facility just below the vineyard.
The crushpad and fermentation room are the ground and top floor of the foursquare facility. (If there’s any criticism to make, it would be about the fairly bland outward appearance. But that’s picking nits.) Inside there’s a line of stainless steel fermentors, 3- and 5-ton varieties, elevated between tracks that can hold equipment for crushing straight into the vats or doing mechanical punchdowns. Very nice on the shoulders and back.
There’s a middle level below the fermentation room where pressed wine can settle before moving to barrels below, and space for case wine storage. To bottom level is the cave, with multiple barrel storage rooms carved between the load bearing walls. That allows the red wine barrels to be kept cool while other space is warmed when necessary for white wine barrel fermentation. There’s no having to do it all in one open space like you find in many other facilities.
After the barrel rooms came the solar power set up. Apparently the facility captures enough sun-energy to power 40% of the winery at maximum usage. Most of the time they feed power back to the grid, so the facility uses substantially less commercial energy than it ordinarily would.
The office and lab space was impressive, as was the stylish – perhaps too much so – tasting room. In short, the facility looks like terrific place to produce wine. And winemaker Melissa Burr, formerly of Cooper Mountain, seems like the whole package.
How are the wines? Commercially very good. Not terribly distinctive, and not my favorite wines, but well make, fairly priced, and most certainly good drinking.
The ’04 Chardonnay is plump and toasty but not overdone and retaining some fresh acidity. The ’04 “JV” Pinot Noir is designed to drink young. It’s bright and fruity, almost candied, but pleasantly earthy with a touch of sulfur that should go away.
The main wine is the ’03 Pinot Noir, which is ripe but not as ripe as I would have guessed from such a warm vintage. Stoller vineyard is a warm site with a low elevation in the lowest blocks. But this ’03 was pretty attractive, with some alcohol and generic toastiness along with distinctive turned earth aromas mixing with the signature macerated cherries. Very attractive wine that won’t be hard to sell, despite the uninspiring label design.
All in all, the site is top notch, the facility is top notch, and the wines are safe but good in their way. What if this producer really broke out and produced something of more intensity without quite the heft? Is that possible in this warm-site vineyard? Time will tell as the producer grows into its new facility. But so far, so good.
April 30, 2006
Quick tasting at Bethel Heights
My parents are in town for the weekend, so we drove down the valley yesterday to check out the sites.
Leaving the freeway at Woodburn, we passed fields of hops, berries, and seed grasses on our way to the Wheatland Ferry. Crossing the Willamette River on a car ferry is like going back in time a little bit, giving you a few minutes to enjoy floating over the water.
Going west, the ferry leaves you right at the base of the Eola Hills. So we drove up Zena Road to Bethel Heights for a quick tasting before looping around the Red Hills on our way back to Portland.
What a line up at Bethel Heights. They were pouring just about everything they produce without any charge. Being the driver, I sampled just a few including a 2004 stainless steel fermented and aged Chardonnay that was varietal and fairly crisp with a pleasant flavor.
But what really impressed me was the 2001 Bethel Heights Freedom Hill Pinot Noir. Showing a bit of age in the color, this smelled earthy and meaty without uncleanliness and tasting elegant and long, with more intensity and interest than any of the 2001s I tried in a recent tasting. Not tannic and hard like the Freedom Hill reputation, this is drinking beautifully and seems like it will last for a while.
For $30 this isn't cheap, but if you like savory Pinot Noir instead of the jammy, fruit packed versions, definitely seek this out. You might even find it for less, as wineries retailers are still occasionally moving 2001s at close out prices.
Leaving the freeway at Woodburn, we passed fields of hops, berries, and seed grasses on our way to the Wheatland Ferry. Crossing the Willamette River on a car ferry is like going back in time a little bit, giving you a few minutes to enjoy floating over the water.
Going west, the ferry leaves you right at the base of the Eola Hills. So we drove up Zena Road to Bethel Heights for a quick tasting before looping around the Red Hills on our way back to Portland.
What a line up at Bethel Heights. They were pouring just about everything they produce without any charge. Being the driver, I sampled just a few including a 2004 stainless steel fermented and aged Chardonnay that was varietal and fairly crisp with a pleasant flavor.
But what really impressed me was the 2001 Bethel Heights Freedom Hill Pinot Noir. Showing a bit of age in the color, this smelled earthy and meaty without uncleanliness and tasting elegant and long, with more intensity and interest than any of the 2001s I tried in a recent tasting. Not tannic and hard like the Freedom Hill reputation, this is drinking beautifully and seems like it will last for a while.
For $30 this isn't cheap, but if you like savory Pinot Noir instead of the jammy, fruit packed versions, definitely seek this out. You might even find it for less, as wineries retailers are still occasionally moving 2001s at close out prices.
Reading Peynaud
I just finished reading Emile Peynaud’s classic book, Knowing and Making Wine. If you’re seriously interested in making wine, it’s simply a must read.
This book was written more than 20 years ago, so naturally some of the information is dated. But much is still current and, knowing the influence this book has had on winemakers all over the world, it’s not surprising how common many of Peynaud’s techniques are in modern cellars.
Before reading this book, I had the idea that Peynaud was a modernist in terms of wine philosophy. You know, better wine through science. And that’s true, the book goes into great detail about scientific advances in all aspects of wine production. Peynaud clearly believed in the ability of science to assist quality wine production. He refers to it as “knowing” the wine more fully.
But what strikes me most about the book is Peynaud’s philosophy of discretion throughout the process of quality wine production. He conveys the notion that you should do no more than is absolutely necessary to produce the highest quality wine possible. That’s hard to argue with.
One example – “The Age-Old Practice of Using a Starter Culture” section on page 104. Here Peynaud talks about beginning the harvest by starting a small fermentation “with or without yeasts added” and using that to innoculate the others as grapes are harvested and processed on the crush pad.
Of course, on the following page he describes “Modern Innocuation Techniques.” But it’s up to you to decide what to do. Peynaud simply gives you the information to make your decision. He’s the messenger of science-based wine making techniques, not necessarily advocating for their use in making laboratory “Frankenwine.”
The other most fascinating thing in this book is Peynaud’s practical, even obsessive, tips about cellar organization and efficiency. He writes about what shape of fermentation tank is best, which to avoid, how to arrange your cellar, how to process the grapes…essentially everything you need to know to make high quality wine on a small scale, or industrial quality wine on a massive scale.
It’s a tremendously helpful read for any winemaker, professional or amateur. And it’s surprisingly readable despite the sometimes stiff translation from the French. Even serious winelovers would do well to give this a go, if they desire a comprehensive yet concise view of how wine is produced.
This book was written more than 20 years ago, so naturally some of the information is dated. But much is still current and, knowing the influence this book has had on winemakers all over the world, it’s not surprising how common many of Peynaud’s techniques are in modern cellars.
Before reading this book, I had the idea that Peynaud was a modernist in terms of wine philosophy. You know, better wine through science. And that’s true, the book goes into great detail about scientific advances in all aspects of wine production. Peynaud clearly believed in the ability of science to assist quality wine production. He refers to it as “knowing” the wine more fully.
But what strikes me most about the book is Peynaud’s philosophy of discretion throughout the process of quality wine production. He conveys the notion that you should do no more than is absolutely necessary to produce the highest quality wine possible. That’s hard to argue with.
One example – “The Age-Old Practice of Using a Starter Culture” section on page 104. Here Peynaud talks about beginning the harvest by starting a small fermentation “with or without yeasts added” and using that to innoculate the others as grapes are harvested and processed on the crush pad.
Of course, on the following page he describes “Modern Innocuation Techniques.” But it’s up to you to decide what to do. Peynaud simply gives you the information to make your decision. He’s the messenger of science-based wine making techniques, not necessarily advocating for their use in making laboratory “Frankenwine.”
The other most fascinating thing in this book is Peynaud’s practical, even obsessive, tips about cellar organization and efficiency. He writes about what shape of fermentation tank is best, which to avoid, how to arrange your cellar, how to process the grapes…essentially everything you need to know to make high quality wine on a small scale, or industrial quality wine on a massive scale.
It’s a tremendously helpful read for any winemaker, professional or amateur. And it’s surprisingly readable despite the sometimes stiff translation from the French. Even serious winelovers would do well to give this a go, if they desire a comprehensive yet concise view of how wine is produced.
April 20, 2006
Tasting 2001 Oregon Pinot Noir
My tasting group met recently to go through a number of 2001 Oregon Pinot Noir. It was a bittersweet affair, with our instigator Chris leaving to be a vigneron in his native Missouri.
The wines were interesting if not thrilling, as is the case with too much Oregon wine. But it’s always a good time with this group and tonight was no exception.
As usual, the wines were tasted blind, which I find a curious practice but on these occasions worthwhile.
We began with the 2001 Privé Le Nord, showing an evolved color with unpleasantly buttery caramel and toast aromas. Silky and round on the palate but it seems to be coming apart at the seams a bit. I heard this won big praise on release but it’s not pretty now. Drink up.
Next was the 2001 Witness Tree Vintage Select, with a fresher cherry floral aroma and a silky round, even mineral flavor amid some candied fruit. Good but would have been terrific without the confectionary notes.
Then the 2001 Maysara Estate Cuvee, from own-rooted Pommard vines. Fresher still, with cherry and smoked sausage aromas and some volatility. In the mouth, fine grape tannin and ripe cola and cherry flavors, not bad.
A surprise was the 2001 Bergstrom Willamette Valley, the basic bottling that has never shown to me like some of the heavier examples from this producer. Instead, this was vinuous with meaty floral notes and purple aromas, probably some brett too. Tangy cherry flavors, monotone but balanced and nice, maybe even worth holding.
I somehow figured out this was 2001 Holloran Le Pavillon, as it showed what this vineyard seems to show to me. That’s classic loamy Red Hills cherry fruit aromas with some dust, darker this time but somehow typical of its site. Silky but chunky on the palate with some alcohol sticking out, not so long and lacking complexity. Good enough really, but not special.
Finally the 2001 Patrice Rion Savigny Les Beaune thrown in for fun. Obviously French, but tart and lacking depth or complexity, even a little sour. Just not what I go for in any wine, but sadly too common in Burgundy. It seems all wine regions have their work cut out for them.
The wines were interesting if not thrilling, as is the case with too much Oregon wine. But it’s always a good time with this group and tonight was no exception.
As usual, the wines were tasted blind, which I find a curious practice but on these occasions worthwhile.
We began with the 2001 Privé Le Nord, showing an evolved color with unpleasantly buttery caramel and toast aromas. Silky and round on the palate but it seems to be coming apart at the seams a bit. I heard this won big praise on release but it’s not pretty now. Drink up.
Next was the 2001 Witness Tree Vintage Select, with a fresher cherry floral aroma and a silky round, even mineral flavor amid some candied fruit. Good but would have been terrific without the confectionary notes.
Then the 2001 Maysara Estate Cuvee, from own-rooted Pommard vines. Fresher still, with cherry and smoked sausage aromas and some volatility. In the mouth, fine grape tannin and ripe cola and cherry flavors, not bad.
A surprise was the 2001 Bergstrom Willamette Valley, the basic bottling that has never shown to me like some of the heavier examples from this producer. Instead, this was vinuous with meaty floral notes and purple aromas, probably some brett too. Tangy cherry flavors, monotone but balanced and nice, maybe even worth holding.
I somehow figured out this was 2001 Holloran Le Pavillon, as it showed what this vineyard seems to show to me. That’s classic loamy Red Hills cherry fruit aromas with some dust, darker this time but somehow typical of its site. Silky but chunky on the palate with some alcohol sticking out, not so long and lacking complexity. Good enough really, but not special.
Finally the 2001 Patrice Rion Savigny Les Beaune thrown in for fun. Obviously French, but tart and lacking depth or complexity, even a little sour. Just not what I go for in any wine, but sadly too common in Burgundy. It seems all wine regions have their work cut out for them.
April 17, 2006
Real Wine by Patrick Mathews
I recently reread one of my favorite wine books, Real Wine by Patrick Matthews. It’s uncommonly well written and one of those truly enjoyable reads that holds up the second time around.
Matthews wrote this about five years ago, yet most of the information seems as current and ahead of the curve today. In it, he surveys wine from vineyard planting and grape growing to vinification and wine selling, telling stories of characters past and present generally possessed by their passion for wine.
The subject, naturally enough, is real wine. Which Matthews defines on p. 167 as “one that tells a truthful story about its growing conditions, and whose concentration of colour, flavor and texture is determined in the vineyard, not the winery.”
Bascially, real wine is authentic to its site, grapes, and vintage. Why else label wine by any of these attributes if we don’t accept the uniqueness that each will provide?
And that’s not code for spoiled, rotten, acidic wine. No, Matthews specifically points out that real wine tastes better. And for all I know, it’s true.
Perhaps the most exciting geek content in this book is that about French soil scientist Claude Bourguignon and the vine’s uptake of soil minerals, transmitting the flavor of the soil to the grape.
That’s a common notion in wine marketing, but apparently not so with the scientists I’ve come across. Yet here I found for the first time a description of soil organisms chelating minerals into forms usable by grape vines. This is one reason Bourguignon promotes farming practices that encourage living soils.
Real Wine is the book that first got me excited about soils and wine, but it definitely has more to offer than just technical stuff. Matthews is a wine lover and journalist, and it shows in his writing. You should read this book.
Matthews wrote this about five years ago, yet most of the information seems as current and ahead of the curve today. In it, he surveys wine from vineyard planting and grape growing to vinification and wine selling, telling stories of characters past and present generally possessed by their passion for wine.
The subject, naturally enough, is real wine. Which Matthews defines on p. 167 as “one that tells a truthful story about its growing conditions, and whose concentration of colour, flavor and texture is determined in the vineyard, not the winery.”
Bascially, real wine is authentic to its site, grapes, and vintage. Why else label wine by any of these attributes if we don’t accept the uniqueness that each will provide?
And that’s not code for spoiled, rotten, acidic wine. No, Matthews specifically points out that real wine tastes better. And for all I know, it’s true.
Perhaps the most exciting geek content in this book is that about French soil scientist Claude Bourguignon and the vine’s uptake of soil minerals, transmitting the flavor of the soil to the grape.
That’s a common notion in wine marketing, but apparently not so with the scientists I’ve come across. Yet here I found for the first time a description of soil organisms chelating minerals into forms usable by grape vines. This is one reason Bourguignon promotes farming practices that encourage living soils.
Real Wine is the book that first got me excited about soils and wine, but it definitely has more to offer than just technical stuff. Matthews is a wine lover and journalist, and it shows in his writing. You should read this book.
April 13, 2006
Magnum Madness 2006
I’m late again with the report from last month’s annual magnum bottle bash at the Manning's. This year saw another incredible line up, with a few high points missed by yours truly. However, I did manage to taste some marvelous wines in between seeing lots of familiar and friendly new faces. Even a few readers of this, ahem, vanity site.
The whites were nice as always, but none stood out immensly. One exception was the 1989 Zind Humbrecht Hengst Gewurztraminer VT, which smelled sweeter than it tasted.Delicious.
The lighter reds table had the usual array of new and old Oregon Pinor noir, among a broad mix of things. Memorable were the primary but solid 2002 Thomas Pinot Noir Willamette Valley and a more than alive 1995 St. Innocent Pinot Noir Freedom Hill, with a touch of dill but otherwise nice mature aromas and flavors. In the mix was a terrific 2003 Charles Joguet Chinon Varennes du Grand Clos, positively delicious and ageworthy Cabernet franc. But stealing the aromatic show was a 1981 Mt. Eden Pinot Noir from California's Santa Cruz Mountains. Unfortunately, it didn't deliver on the palate as it apparently had when first opened.
By the time I made it downstairs, a few of the bigger red wines were already being finished. I missed the 1989 Vieux Telegraph Chateauneuf du Pape (which was apparently excellent) and the 1995 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chappelle. Still, I loved the 2003 Ridge Geyserville, the classic old vine blend that smelled earthy rather than woody, like Geyservilles of old. The 2001 Produttori du Barbaresco normale that I brought – decanted for a few hours before arriving – was frankly better than I expected. There were many others to enjoy as well.
And I haven’t even gotten to the dessert wines. Among other things were the 1989 Baumard Coteaux du Layon Paon, 1969 Baumard CdL Clos St. Catherine, 2002 Inniskillen Vidal Ice Wine, and 1975 Taylor’s Porto.
The Paon was nice, still youthful and classically sweet. The 1969 Clos St. Catherine I’d had once before, and it was stunning then. Tonight, not nearly as nice, but still a good wine. It just lacks the intensity and depth it showed previously. Hard to quibble with birthyear wine though. Thanks to the generous stranger who brought both of these.
The Inniskillin Vidal from Canada's Niagara Peninsula was courtesy of Roy Hersh, the man behind For the Love Of Port, down from Seattle for the weekend. What a beautiful wine, fat and sweet but crystaline. My first taste of Vidal last year suggested it would make nice dessert wine. Indeed.
And finally the 1975 Taylor’s, which wasn’t a top wine but clearly top shelf quality here, aging nicely if lacking in depth what it has in relative freshness. A nice drink, and a fine way to close the evening.
And once more, to the bus.
The whites were nice as always, but none stood out immensly. One exception was the 1989 Zind Humbrecht Hengst Gewurztraminer VT, which smelled sweeter than it tasted.Delicious.
The lighter reds table had the usual array of new and old Oregon Pinor noir, among a broad mix of things. Memorable were the primary but solid 2002 Thomas Pinot Noir Willamette Valley and a more than alive 1995 St. Innocent Pinot Noir Freedom Hill, with a touch of dill but otherwise nice mature aromas and flavors. In the mix was a terrific 2003 Charles Joguet Chinon Varennes du Grand Clos, positively delicious and ageworthy Cabernet franc. But stealing the aromatic show was a 1981 Mt. Eden Pinot Noir from California's Santa Cruz Mountains. Unfortunately, it didn't deliver on the palate as it apparently had when first opened.
By the time I made it downstairs, a few of the bigger red wines were already being finished. I missed the 1989 Vieux Telegraph Chateauneuf du Pape (which was apparently excellent) and the 1995 Jaboulet Hermitage La Chappelle. Still, I loved the 2003 Ridge Geyserville, the classic old vine blend that smelled earthy rather than woody, like Geyservilles of old. The 2001 Produttori du Barbaresco normale that I brought – decanted for a few hours before arriving – was frankly better than I expected. There were many others to enjoy as well.
And I haven’t even gotten to the dessert wines. Among other things were the 1989 Baumard Coteaux du Layon Paon, 1969 Baumard CdL Clos St. Catherine, 2002 Inniskillen Vidal Ice Wine, and 1975 Taylor’s Porto.
The Paon was nice, still youthful and classically sweet. The 1969 Clos St. Catherine I’d had once before, and it was stunning then. Tonight, not nearly as nice, but still a good wine. It just lacks the intensity and depth it showed previously. Hard to quibble with birthyear wine though. Thanks to the generous stranger who brought both of these.
The Inniskillin Vidal from Canada's Niagara Peninsula was courtesy of Roy Hersh, the man behind For the Love Of Port, down from Seattle for the weekend. What a beautiful wine, fat and sweet but crystaline. My first taste of Vidal last year suggested it would make nice dessert wine. Indeed.
And finally the 1975 Taylor’s, which wasn’t a top wine but clearly top shelf quality here, aging nicely if lacking in depth what it has in relative freshness. A nice drink, and a fine way to close the evening.
And once more, to the bus.
2004 Domaine la Bastide Syrah
Want to know the best under-$10-wine I’ve had in a while? It’s the 2004 Domaine la Bastide Syrah, a Vin de Pays D’Hauterive from Corbieres-based propietor Guilhem Durand. Check out the importer’s web site for more information.
This Syrah, which one local market has for only $8, is year in and year out one of the best buys in wine. But somehow the 2004 strikes me as the best I’ve tried, so bright and lively in the mouth with just enough richness. It has simple flavors but terrific purity, an honest French syrah that beats the pants off industrial shiraz.
The 2003 is still around in places, and it’s also pretty nice though riper and a little squishy. Yet it’s also real wine and well worth buying. Perhaps you’ll like this one better.
This Syrah, which one local market has for only $8, is year in and year out one of the best buys in wine. But somehow the 2004 strikes me as the best I’ve tried, so bright and lively in the mouth with just enough richness. It has simple flavors but terrific purity, an honest French syrah that beats the pants off industrial shiraz.
The 2003 is still around in places, and it’s also pretty nice though riper and a little squishy. Yet it’s also real wine and well worth buying. Perhaps you’ll like this one better.
April 09, 2006
Hill country wine
I’m just back from a week visiting in-laws outside of Austin in the Texas “hill country,” where I envied the white chalky limestone soils. The climate for grapes there is a bit extreme, with drought, heat, flooding rain, humity and high disease pressure.
But oh those fractured soils, limey and delicious.
Oregon’s soils are generally acidic, so we see pine trees and rhododendrens among other acid-loving things. Grapes obviously grow and thrive in our acidic soils. But we don’t share the higher ph limestone soils you find all over France and other key growing regions in the world.
Of course, the Texas hill country has tons of it. And vineyards too, as most of the wineries in Texas seem to be in this large area.
I only tried a few local things on this trip, all of which were surprisingly pleasant as I typically find Texas wines to be. That’s a compliment. And I’m sure there are some really bad wines out there. But whites from Fall Creek and reds from Becker that I tasted were all nicely varietal and drinkable, if not terribly interesting, just like they always seem.
Not sure what they cost, but I can’t say I’d seek any of the wines I’ve tried so who cares. Drink them if you’re there, you might be surprised. Otherwise pay no attention here, at least until my next visit.
But oh those fractured soils, limey and delicious.
Oregon’s soils are generally acidic, so we see pine trees and rhododendrens among other acid-loving things. Grapes obviously grow and thrive in our acidic soils. But we don’t share the higher ph limestone soils you find all over France and other key growing regions in the world.
Of course, the Texas hill country has tons of it. And vineyards too, as most of the wineries in Texas seem to be in this large area.
I only tried a few local things on this trip, all of which were surprisingly pleasant as I typically find Texas wines to be. That’s a compliment. And I’m sure there are some really bad wines out there. But whites from Fall Creek and reds from Becker that I tasted were all nicely varietal and drinkable, if not terribly interesting, just like they always seem.
Not sure what they cost, but I can’t say I’d seek any of the wines I’ve tried so who cares. Drink them if you’re there, you might be surprised. Otherwise pay no attention here, at least until my next visit.
March 28, 2006
More geology from the northern Willamette Valley
Following up on my recent visit to a geological society meeting, I paid a visit to Portland State University geologist Scott Burns for more information on the soils and rocks of the northern Willamette Valley.
First, Burns' office is filled with rocks of all kinds. I think if you look up the word rockhound, you'll see his picture.
Second, Burns clearly loves wine and loves talking about wine and geology. So I asked him a few questions to get a little more insight on the local territory.
I knew our geology here is either volcanic basalt or ocean sediments. But where did the soils on the basalt come from? I wasn't sure if they were wind-blown deposits, but in fact our volcanic soils are mostly eroded basalt. Hence their red color and, given their age of 14 million years, low fertility.
And what about the "bathtub ring" left over from the Missolua floods 10,000-15,000 years ago? These floods covered the Willamette Valley floor with rich "Woodburn" deposits up to a height of 400 feet. However, most of these deposits settled below 200 feet or so, with rapidly thinning deposits the higher you go up to the bathtub ring.
So the best vineyard land in this part of Oregon is above the flood deposits, at least 200-250 feet and ideally higher still. However, there are places below 400 feet particularly in the Eola Hills with shallow and infertile soils that suggest the bathtub ring (or maximum height of the Missolua floods) might vary depending on location.
I'll investigate that further as I delve into the further refinement and reclassification of many soils in this area. Stay tuned.
First, Burns' office is filled with rocks of all kinds. I think if you look up the word rockhound, you'll see his picture.
Second, Burns clearly loves wine and loves talking about wine and geology. So I asked him a few questions to get a little more insight on the local territory.
I knew our geology here is either volcanic basalt or ocean sediments. But where did the soils on the basalt come from? I wasn't sure if they were wind-blown deposits, but in fact our volcanic soils are mostly eroded basalt. Hence their red color and, given their age of 14 million years, low fertility.
And what about the "bathtub ring" left over from the Missolua floods 10,000-15,000 years ago? These floods covered the Willamette Valley floor with rich "Woodburn" deposits up to a height of 400 feet. However, most of these deposits settled below 200 feet or so, with rapidly thinning deposits the higher you go up to the bathtub ring.
So the best vineyard land in this part of Oregon is above the flood deposits, at least 200-250 feet and ideally higher still. However, there are places below 400 feet particularly in the Eola Hills with shallow and infertile soils that suggest the bathtub ring (or maximum height of the Missolua floods) might vary depending on location.
I'll investigate that further as I delve into the further refinement and reclassification of many soils in this area. Stay tuned.
Giacomo Conterno tasting at Liner & Elsen
A week ago Saturday saw yet another terrific event at my favorite wine shop in Portland, Liner and Elsen.
This time it was the wines of Giacomo Conterno, one Barbera and three Baroli, all at no charge. Pouring was Bob Liner of Galaxy Wine Co., a Portland-based wine distributor, alongside Roberto Conterno in town from Italy.
The wines of G. Conterno fit the traditional house style, showing very young and mostly unforgiving early on. Yet these are all wines of quality, even if I can't afford any but the first.
As G. Conterno no longer produces Dolcetto, we began with the 2003 Barbera Cascina Francia. Healthy dark ruby in color, this is ripe and even a bit roasted aromatically with a fleshy texture and good length with healthy but unobtrusive acids. If all '03 Barbera are this good, wow. Even at $26, this is a deal in top quality Piemontese wine that tastes good now but should hang on for several years.
Then the Baroli, designated Cascina Francia as are all the wines of this Serralunga-based producer. First the 2001 Barolo, in three words tight, tight, tight. Floral aromas with nice red fruit but criminally young.
Second, the 2000 Barolo, which is ripe as this warm vintage would suggest, but with young and stern acidity, mouthfilling but in need of time.
Finally, the 1999 Barolo, the most expressive of the three today but again simply too young for complete enjoyment. More tar and floral aromatics, tannic in the mouth but promising.
With each of the Baroli priced at $110, I can't exactly recommend buying. But if you like ageworthy, authentic Barolo, and you have the cash, you'd be hard pressed to find better things to toss into the cellar.
You might also make sure you're young. These are wines for drinking in 20 or 30 years, especially the 2001.
This time it was the wines of Giacomo Conterno, one Barbera and three Baroli, all at no charge. Pouring was Bob Liner of Galaxy Wine Co., a Portland-based wine distributor, alongside Roberto Conterno in town from Italy.
The wines of G. Conterno fit the traditional house style, showing very young and mostly unforgiving early on. Yet these are all wines of quality, even if I can't afford any but the first.
As G. Conterno no longer produces Dolcetto, we began with the 2003 Barbera Cascina Francia. Healthy dark ruby in color, this is ripe and even a bit roasted aromatically with a fleshy texture and good length with healthy but unobtrusive acids. If all '03 Barbera are this good, wow. Even at $26, this is a deal in top quality Piemontese wine that tastes good now but should hang on for several years.
Then the Baroli, designated Cascina Francia as are all the wines of this Serralunga-based producer. First the 2001 Barolo, in three words tight, tight, tight. Floral aromas with nice red fruit but criminally young.
Second, the 2000 Barolo, which is ripe as this warm vintage would suggest, but with young and stern acidity, mouthfilling but in need of time.
Finally, the 1999 Barolo, the most expressive of the three today but again simply too young for complete enjoyment. More tar and floral aromatics, tannic in the mouth but promising.
With each of the Baroli priced at $110, I can't exactly recommend buying. But if you like ageworthy, authentic Barolo, and you have the cash, you'd be hard pressed to find better things to toss into the cellar.
You might also make sure you're young. These are wines for drinking in 20 or 30 years, especially the 2001.
March 20, 2006
Dinner at Tabla
This past weekend saw three wine events, which is three more than I usually seem to attend these days. But this is Magnum Madness weekend, with an added bonus of a little Giacomo Conterno tasting that I’ll get to later.
Friday night I arranged a dinner at Tabla in NE Portland with Magnum Madness hosts Marshall and Carolyn Manning, the Portolover himself Roy Hersh and friend Justin down from the Seattle area, and Becca Hunt and Jimmie Wellman from out Yakima way. The theme: Mediterranean and friends, meaning anything made in or inspired by the region. Not that we kept to that.
These being good and generous folks, we drank well with a truly eclectic line up that ended up complementing Tabla’s diverse flavors nicely. By the way, Tabla is hot, and Eddie Robinson is tearing it up in a well-staffed kitchen. Definitely eat here.
We started with the 1998 Rudi Pichler Riesling Smaragd (designation missed), that was very fresh but showing nice aromas of early maturity. Bright, almost piercing on the palate, very focused, delicious and still young. No rush here.
Next came an out of order red, the 2001 Edmunds St. John Los Robles Viejos. An hommage to Chateauneuf du Pape from the Berkeley producer wine from all over California, this mourvedre, grenache and syrah blend from the limestone soils of west Paso Robles delivers. Neutral cask ageing, natural fermentations, and terrific, pure fruit and earth flavors. One of the few California wines that easily suggests France but in the end displays what California can produce.
We went back to white for the 2002 Chave Hermitage Blanc, paired with a substantial Amuse Bouche of chorizo on a chickpea base with whipped chive crème fraîche. Nice combination of spice and sweet cream, and once the Chave warmed up, what a pure aroma of marsanne and roussane. Not so thick and oily on the palate as a better vintage might be, but lovely in the mouth with minerality good length.
Then the 1995 Chateau Musar, a favorite obscurity of mine, red wine from the Bekka Valley of Lebanon. A blend of cinsault, grenache, and cabernet sauvignon in unclear amounts, this wine is never for the unadventurous. Tonight’s bottle was good but not great, young to be sure but showing some volatility without too much depth. Round on the palate, more like a southern Rhone than anything else, typcially farmy and certainly a nice drink. Not a match to my organic greens but what is?
The 1989 Produttori di Barbaresco Montestefano seemed less intense than I expected, but it was a pretty wine with nice nebbiolo fragrance and a silky texture if not so complex and long. A nice accompaniment to parpadelle with rabbit ragu.
Next came my contribution, the impossibly tight 1990 Ch. Pradeaux Bandol. The color of a 2000 with a narrow aroma of black fruits and eventually some forest notes. Tight, tight, tight on the palate. Will this ever come around? A fine drink and better with food, but a few people wondered aloud if this would ever turn into something special. Hold for ten more years if you have any. Need more sap.
Then the coup de grace, my first Unico. Specially the 1986 Vega Scilia “Unico” Ribera del Deuro. Again, impossibly dark and youthful color. How does something kept in cask for so many years stay so vibrant? Well integrated fragrance of berries, American oak cedar and light dill notes (I don't mind dill, unlike many in the wine world), and charred earth, this wasn’t an oak bomb but a beautifully textured, silky and fairly long drink. If you like Spanish reds, this is really nice though perhaps not a blockbuster Unico that other vintages deliver. I tried this and a few others with my duck confit, which (again) was delicious. As one taster noted, what a good use of salt at Tabla.
Finally, the 1986 Ch. Climens Barsac for dessert. Still a bright, lightish color with a fresh pineapple and slightly volatile aroma. Sweet and pure on the palate, ginger, tropical fruit but not heavy with botrytis, I really liked this and thought it plenty long. The most persnickety in the bunch thought it not as good as ooooother vintages. Yeah, sure.
Then exeunt, satisfied.
Friday night I arranged a dinner at Tabla in NE Portland with Magnum Madness hosts Marshall and Carolyn Manning, the Portolover himself Roy Hersh and friend Justin down from the Seattle area, and Becca Hunt and Jimmie Wellman from out Yakima way. The theme: Mediterranean and friends, meaning anything made in or inspired by the region. Not that we kept to that.
These being good and generous folks, we drank well with a truly eclectic line up that ended up complementing Tabla’s diverse flavors nicely. By the way, Tabla is hot, and Eddie Robinson is tearing it up in a well-staffed kitchen. Definitely eat here.
We started with the 1998 Rudi Pichler Riesling Smaragd (designation missed), that was very fresh but showing nice aromas of early maturity. Bright, almost piercing on the palate, very focused, delicious and still young. No rush here.
Next came an out of order red, the 2001 Edmunds St. John Los Robles Viejos. An hommage to Chateauneuf du Pape from the Berkeley producer wine from all over California, this mourvedre, grenache and syrah blend from the limestone soils of west Paso Robles delivers. Neutral cask ageing, natural fermentations, and terrific, pure fruit and earth flavors. One of the few California wines that easily suggests France but in the end displays what California can produce.
We went back to white for the 2002 Chave Hermitage Blanc, paired with a substantial Amuse Bouche of chorizo on a chickpea base with whipped chive crème fraîche. Nice combination of spice and sweet cream, and once the Chave warmed up, what a pure aroma of marsanne and roussane. Not so thick and oily on the palate as a better vintage might be, but lovely in the mouth with minerality good length.
Then the 1995 Chateau Musar, a favorite obscurity of mine, red wine from the Bekka Valley of Lebanon. A blend of cinsault, grenache, and cabernet sauvignon in unclear amounts, this wine is never for the unadventurous. Tonight’s bottle was good but not great, young to be sure but showing some volatility without too much depth. Round on the palate, more like a southern Rhone than anything else, typcially farmy and certainly a nice drink. Not a match to my organic greens but what is?
The 1989 Produttori di Barbaresco Montestefano seemed less intense than I expected, but it was a pretty wine with nice nebbiolo fragrance and a silky texture if not so complex and long. A nice accompaniment to parpadelle with rabbit ragu.
Next came my contribution, the impossibly tight 1990 Ch. Pradeaux Bandol. The color of a 2000 with a narrow aroma of black fruits and eventually some forest notes. Tight, tight, tight on the palate. Will this ever come around? A fine drink and better with food, but a few people wondered aloud if this would ever turn into something special. Hold for ten more years if you have any. Need more sap.
Then the coup de grace, my first Unico. Specially the 1986 Vega Scilia “Unico” Ribera del Deuro. Again, impossibly dark and youthful color. How does something kept in cask for so many years stay so vibrant? Well integrated fragrance of berries, American oak cedar and light dill notes (I don't mind dill, unlike many in the wine world), and charred earth, this wasn’t an oak bomb but a beautifully textured, silky and fairly long drink. If you like Spanish reds, this is really nice though perhaps not a blockbuster Unico that other vintages deliver. I tried this and a few others with my duck confit, which (again) was delicious. As one taster noted, what a good use of salt at Tabla.
Finally, the 1986 Ch. Climens Barsac for dessert. Still a bright, lightish color with a fresh pineapple and slightly volatile aroma. Sweet and pure on the palate, ginger, tropical fruit but not heavy with botrytis, I really liked this and thought it plenty long. The most persnickety in the bunch thought it not as good as ooooother vintages. Yeah, sure.
Then exeunt, satisfied.
March 13, 2006
Winemaking update
After five months élevage, I’m pleased to report that I haven’t yet screwed up the wine I started making last fall in my garage.
Honestly, in my early years of homebrewing, I can’t tell you the problems I faced. Some of them with my encouragement, just to see what would happen.
My best wine to date was a very – very – modest 2002 Willamette Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. 2002 was a nice harvest, and the last weekend in October I learned the true meaning of something being “ripe for the pickin’” – cabernet of all things, on Ribbon Ridge.
But it was ripe...enough. Around 22.5 brix with some nice flavors, if heavily varietal in a pleasantly cabernet way.
The wine turned out light – I only made 3 gallons and you won’t get much flavor out of that. But I did nothing to the wine aside from adding a little sulfur and letting it soak until fermentation started naturally. And it turned out sound. All 15 bottles. I still have a few.
With this year’s wine, I did things in the manner I was learning while working harvest.
When I last reported, my 2005 Pinot Noir from Courting Hill Vineyard was resting in my basement in a 4-year-old, 50L Slovonian oak barrel with 5 liters of topping wine. I’m down to less than half of that, probably due to my cool but dry cellar. I’ve been religious about topping up the barrel, and sampling the wine as it really becomes finished wine.
What is “finished wine?” After pressing, the new wine is raw and hard, having not gone through the softening malolactic fermentation nor seen the beneficial, slow oxidation of cask ageing.
Wine is finished when the winemaker decides, though the keys are biological stability and a flavor and aromatic profile that just seems right. Sometimes there’s also the fact that you need to free up space for new wine.
Over time, even my modest Pinot Noir has become more round on the palate, with greater length and an overall sense of harmony. Slowly I can see the finished wine emerge. Grand cru stuff, this will never be. More on the gamay side with brightly acidic flavors, but with some sweetness if not much soil character. Already it’s something I’d be happy to drink, which is saying something.
Most people ask me when I will know when to bottle. I don’t really know. I hope I can tell through tasting, but I can’t see holding it beyond August. This is a wine for early drinking, I think. The fresher the better.
Honestly, in my early years of homebrewing, I can’t tell you the problems I faced. Some of them with my encouragement, just to see what would happen.
My best wine to date was a very – very – modest 2002 Willamette Valley Cabernet Sauvignon. 2002 was a nice harvest, and the last weekend in October I learned the true meaning of something being “ripe for the pickin’” – cabernet of all things, on Ribbon Ridge.
But it was ripe...enough. Around 22.5 brix with some nice flavors, if heavily varietal in a pleasantly cabernet way.
The wine turned out light – I only made 3 gallons and you won’t get much flavor out of that. But I did nothing to the wine aside from adding a little sulfur and letting it soak until fermentation started naturally. And it turned out sound. All 15 bottles. I still have a few.
With this year’s wine, I did things in the manner I was learning while working harvest.
When I last reported, my 2005 Pinot Noir from Courting Hill Vineyard was resting in my basement in a 4-year-old, 50L Slovonian oak barrel with 5 liters of topping wine. I’m down to less than half of that, probably due to my cool but dry cellar. I’ve been religious about topping up the barrel, and sampling the wine as it really becomes finished wine.
What is “finished wine?” After pressing, the new wine is raw and hard, having not gone through the softening malolactic fermentation nor seen the beneficial, slow oxidation of cask ageing.
Wine is finished when the winemaker decides, though the keys are biological stability and a flavor and aromatic profile that just seems right. Sometimes there’s also the fact that you need to free up space for new wine.
Over time, even my modest Pinot Noir has become more round on the palate, with greater length and an overall sense of harmony. Slowly I can see the finished wine emerge. Grand cru stuff, this will never be. More on the gamay side with brightly acidic flavors, but with some sweetness if not much soil character. Already it’s something I’d be happy to drink, which is saying something.
Most people ask me when I will know when to bottle. I don’t really know. I hope I can tell through tasting, but I can’t see holding it beyond August. This is a wine for early drinking, I think. The fresher the better.
March 08, 2006
Taiwan - it was a good shift
I travelled to Taiwan recently, my first time in Asia. What a place.
It's actually hard for me to find the right words to describe my experience. If I'd never travelled much outside the U.S., I think I would have been bewildered by how truly different the culture and feel of the place is to home.
Sure, they have donut shops and Starbucks, but under the surface things are really different there. And really interesting.
First, I discovered how pleasantly familiar it was to be foreigner again. It felt great to be an outsider.
But really the smells were the story. Incense, street food, even bakeries that sometimes reminded me of France. Not that the bread was anything like France, though the pastries in many places were delicious and cheap.
The fragrant night markets and street carts littering the city are obvious attractions for even novice foodies like me. But most impressive were the smells in the basement of a department store in Kaohsiung. The food court of a department store, reeking of ginger and spices! It was amazing.
There was even a McDonald's in the corner, and sure, it drew a crowd. But there were maybe a dozen other outlets all offering various Asian cuisine, cooked fresh with real ingredients (for the most part) served on reusable wooden trays and big soup bowls or cast iron skillets with your order. And it all smell so good.
In a department store food court!
Plus, for about $5US you can eat really well in many places. Just be ready to try stuff you've either never heard of or don't want to ask about. G.I. tract lovers, you'll be well served.
But what about the wine?
Taiwan is warm and even I'd rather drink beer in most occasions just because of the climate. But I was surprised to find a nice selection of things, with prices high but not as high as you might think given how low demand probably is.
Perhaps I'm wrong, but the people eat so traditionally that I can't imagine they drink outside of their tradition (beer and whiskey as far as I can tell). Certainly I didn't see too many people consuming wine in public eateries. And it seems like everyone eats out, and often.
I found the predictable Australian producers on store shelves. Looked like the Antinori salespeople make regular calls in the higher end locations. There was also lots of Bordeaux, though not many deals. And in one spot I even found some Oregon wines, notably from Willakenzie and Henry Estate. Neither was cheap, but then again probably only half again what you'd pay here, which isn't bad for export.
Where to find wine? The internet didn't give me much information before I went. Apparently the big box stores in the larger cities are good, places like Carrefour, Tesco, and RT Mart. However, I didn't make it to any of those.
The upscale market Jason's in Taipei and Kaohsiung had the best selection I found, but higher prices too boot. Ultimately, I found the market halls in the basements of local department stores to occasionally have great selections and probably the best deals I saw. Still, I didn't find anything I couldn't live without. A wine shopping desitnation this isn't.
In the end, I drank more beer, and really it tasted great with the food. Anything notably good? No, really it was just about crisp, fresh and cold beer, none of it distinguished or memorable.
The same can't be said for the classic line uttered by a family friend, who's no wine geek but sure likes his beer and knows the local bartenders well. He'd crack open a cold one, smell the contents and exhale before declaring, "it was a good shift."
It's actually hard for me to find the right words to describe my experience. If I'd never travelled much outside the U.S., I think I would have been bewildered by how truly different the culture and feel of the place is to home.
Sure, they have donut shops and Starbucks, but under the surface things are really different there. And really interesting.
First, I discovered how pleasantly familiar it was to be foreigner again. It felt great to be an outsider.
But really the smells were the story. Incense, street food, even bakeries that sometimes reminded me of France. Not that the bread was anything like France, though the pastries in many places were delicious and cheap.
The fragrant night markets and street carts littering the city are obvious attractions for even novice foodies like me. But most impressive were the smells in the basement of a department store in Kaohsiung. The food court of a department store, reeking of ginger and spices! It was amazing.
There was even a McDonald's in the corner, and sure, it drew a crowd. But there were maybe a dozen other outlets all offering various Asian cuisine, cooked fresh with real ingredients (for the most part) served on reusable wooden trays and big soup bowls or cast iron skillets with your order. And it all smell so good.
In a department store food court!
Plus, for about $5US you can eat really well in many places. Just be ready to try stuff you've either never heard of or don't want to ask about. G.I. tract lovers, you'll be well served.
But what about the wine?
Taiwan is warm and even I'd rather drink beer in most occasions just because of the climate. But I was surprised to find a nice selection of things, with prices high but not as high as you might think given how low demand probably is.
Perhaps I'm wrong, but the people eat so traditionally that I can't imagine they drink outside of their tradition (beer and whiskey as far as I can tell). Certainly I didn't see too many people consuming wine in public eateries. And it seems like everyone eats out, and often.
I found the predictable Australian producers on store shelves. Looked like the Antinori salespeople make regular calls in the higher end locations. There was also lots of Bordeaux, though not many deals. And in one spot I even found some Oregon wines, notably from Willakenzie and Henry Estate. Neither was cheap, but then again probably only half again what you'd pay here, which isn't bad for export.
Where to find wine? The internet didn't give me much information before I went. Apparently the big box stores in the larger cities are good, places like Carrefour, Tesco, and RT Mart. However, I didn't make it to any of those.
The upscale market Jason's in Taipei and Kaohsiung had the best selection I found, but higher prices too boot. Ultimately, I found the market halls in the basements of local department stores to occasionally have great selections and probably the best deals I saw. Still, I didn't find anything I couldn't live without. A wine shopping desitnation this isn't.
In the end, I drank more beer, and really it tasted great with the food. Anything notably good? No, really it was just about crisp, fresh and cold beer, none of it distinguished or memorable.
The same can't be said for the classic line uttered by a family friend, who's no wine geek but sure likes his beer and knows the local bartenders well. He'd crack open a cold one, smell the contents and exhale before declaring, "it was a good shift."
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