Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wines: Domaine de la Charbonniere 2006 Chateauneuf du Pape Blanc

As mentioned in my last post, Chateauneuf du Pape Blanc gets little attention. Nevertheless, these are distinct wines with their own expression of some of the famous terroirs of Chateauneuf that are quite unlike the whites of the Northern Rhone.

Galet Vineyards

Charbonniere makes their four red Chateauneuf and one white cuvee from four main vineyards: les Brusquières, la Crau, Mourre des Perdrix, and around the estate Charbonniere. These vineyards are in the north or north east and thus have clay and limestone soils (one of four broad types within CdP). The vineyards also contain the famous galets or rounded stones that sit in the vineyard soaking up and storing heat.

A Classic Vinification

From 20 year old vines Charbonniere makes their white using a blend of 40% Grenache blanc, 40% Roussanne, 20% Clairette, with the Clairette being harvested after the other two. The wine is then destemmed, crushed and vinified in 25% new oak and 75% stainless steel, with no malo-lactic fermentation. As the wine ages it sees regular battonages (lees stirring), which works well in this wine as its acidity balances the richness.

The classic approach reflects in the flavour profile, with this wine delivering good rounded flavours and structure, but little out of the ordinary or exciting.

A Wine of Itself but Lacking Punch

The nose is softly spicy with lemon and minerals that remind me very much of Chardonnay. This is more expressive than the Boursan, and the palate has better structure and length, with Chardonnay-like flavours of lemon, cream and minerals. However, it is quite a bit less distinctive than the Boursan, though more accessible and more immediately delicious.

Again, this is a well made wine but nothing particularly stands out. Everything is in its place, though I suspect the balance of the wine could be improved.

Very Good+
$55 at Marquis Wine Cellars

So What’s the Deal with CdP Blanc?

While signs are that these wines will continue to improve, right now they can’t match the range, complexity and better value offered by the white wines of the Northern Rhone. Despite this, these wines still possess enough interest and terroir to make them worth experiencing and are an important stop on a wine geek’s journey.

The remainder of this focus on Rhone whites will look at how these varieties are being treated in the New World – some of what is going on is quite surprising.

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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Domaine Bois de Boursan Chateauneuf du Pape Blanc 2007

Chateauneuf du Pape is, of course, famous for its red wines. In Vancouver particularly CdP is often the premium wine of choice for many novice buyers and moneyed collectors. Many wine geeks, however, have moved away from many Chateauneufs, which with ever better reviews from Robert Parker and ever increasing interest from the points crowd, have increased in price significantly. Despite this trend towards prestige pricing, the white wines of Chateauneuf still sit well under the radar of most collectors, and even many wine geeks.

Chateauneuf du Pape Blanc can be made from five different grapes – Roussanne, Grenache Blanc, Clairette, Bourboulenc and Picardan. Most predominantly use Grenache Blanc, though there are a few pure Roussannes that have gained a strong reputation (Beaucastel’s most notably). Bois de Boursan makes its white from a unique blend of 35% Clairette, 35% Grenache Blanc, 15% Roussanne and 15% Bourboulenc. Most of us, including myself, have never tasted pure Clairette or Bourboulenc so it is hard to tell exactly what these add to the flavours of the blend, but Jancis Robinson explains that the grapes are used in the southern Rhone to add aroma and acidity to a wine.

The wine is unique, presenting apple ginger spice cake on the subtle and not overly expressive nose. The wine tastes best at near room temperature, and along with the above flavours, has some dry minerality in the finish. Perhaps thiswas too young when I drank it, but I found it fairly closed, even as the mid-palate had serious structure. The medium acid held the wine together well enough so it didn’t become overly rich – but this is not a sprightly or crisp white.  Bois de Boursan uses barriques from Alsace and Borgogne for its wines and the old wood influence works quite well. I expect the wine will open with age, but it is not nearly as immediately delicious as the Northern Rhone whites.

Very Good+
$60 at Marquis Wine Cellars

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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Domaine Auguste Clape St. Péray 2007

From History to Obscurity

St. Péray may be the most obscure region in the entire Rhone valley. Once as famous as regions like Cornas and Condrieu, it has now dwindled to a near obscurity. Situated directly south of Cornas, St. Péray is the most southerly of all the Northern Rhone appellations, except for a small piece of the large Croze-Hermitage.

Napoleon Bonaparte once described the still wines of St. Péray as his first wine discovery – much like many wine lovers today have that moment that opens their eyes and palates to wine. But since the excitement of the 19th century for the wines of St. Péray wore off, the region has seen a continuing decline in interest. Today there are only a dozen growers and a handful of negociants, with half of the wine being made at the cooperative of Tain L’Hermitage. All the more rare it is, then, to find a wine from the caliber of a producer like Auguste Clape, who is probably the leading producer in Cornas. Accordingly, Clape’s St. Péray vineyards are just south of his Cornas vineyards and comprise a miniscule 0.23 hectares. As a result, Clape only makes 100 cases of this very rare dry white.

Youthful Terroir

Clape’s vineyards are sited on acidic soil, with quartz granite and patches of clay limestone on the lower slopes. The granite tends to produce wines that drink better young. The Marsanne, which comprises 99% of the wine (1% Roussanne), is picked mostly from 55-65 year old vines, with about 1/3 of the fruit from 15 year old vines.

There has also been a trend in St. Péray to increase the use of oak, which tends to cover over the more terroir driven aspects of the wine, which are quite delicate despite the commonly robust alcohol. Clape, on the other hand, ferments in concrete and stainless steel, and allows malo-lactic fermentation to complete naturally before bottling in April. This vinification methodology also reflects that the oaked whites need more time in bottle to come together. With Clape’s terroir favouring younger wines, it makes little sense to produce an oakier style of wine.

St. Péray – its Own Terroir

The pale colour of the wine belies its richness and its luminescent nose of pear, apple and a touch of honey nut. The palate presents tremendous minerality with deep orchard fruits. This has impeccable structure for a 14% ABV wine, and it holds the alcohol extremely well. The richness is outstanding given the complete lack of oak – and this is perhaps why the wine is so balanced. The finish is very persistent given the price point. Overall this is a distinctive terroir based wine that shows more minerals and spice versus the more honeyed and floral tones of its St. Joseph counterparts. The price I paid for the quality is astounding – it is worth four times as much.

Excellent
$17 at K&L Wine Merchants in SF.

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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Pierre Gonon ‘Les Oliviers’ St. Joseph Blanc 2005

A return to elegance and complexity as I return to this spotlight – lost amongst distractions and digressions. Run by two brothers in their 30’s, Domaine Gonon is one of those dwindling producers only making one red and one white wine. With the infection of the prestige cuvee both in the southern and the northern Rhone, it is rare and exceptional to find a producer with some incredible terroir who see simplicity as the way to the heart of good wine.

A Simple Take on Terroir

As wines made in the St. Joseph appellation, some might place the Gonons’ creations into the unfortunate realm occupied by the highly cropped and poorly made wines from the regions with little terroir. This would be a mistake. The Gonons’ father was one of the first to pursue white wine seriously in the modern generation, planting his Marsanne vines in 1958. This makes the vines some of the oldest in the Northern Rhone.

These days, the white Gonon is made with 80% Marsanne from these vines and 20% Roussanne from vines planted in 1974. The vines sit above Tournon, 200 metres above on the Coteau des Oliviers – a site renowned since before the creation of the St. Joseph appellation. As for soils, you will find stones and red clay with some sanded granite.

Farming and vinification practices are thoughtful and attentive at this estate. For instance, all the vineyard work is manual and they don’t use wire training for any vines. They also select cuttings from their own rootstock to avoid importing clones. In the cellar, they use all indigenous yeast and ferment in open wooden vats.

A Perfect Balance

The brothers report that their white wine can age up to 20 years in great vintages, a rarity for whites made from Marsanne and Roussanne. I tasted it at a mere 4 years of age, but it was showing perfectly. The nose was soft and clear with minerals and stone combined with citrus zest. This is basically textbook St. Joseph Blanc – it marries suppleness and elegance with intense flavour and tremendous versatility for a low-acid wine. I would pair this with a main course, but the pear, apple, honey, nuts and caramel flavours are also lush and wonderful by themselves. Full bodied, clean, but not overly sweet, the aromatics and texture are enticing beyond addiction. This is the complete package and you could not hope for better quality from a white at this price.

Excellent
$50 at Marquis

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Brown Estate: of Anchors and Zinfandel

Lately I have spent much of my free time reflecting on change. How is it that after years of pursuing knowledge and stumbling upon experience that we somehow remain the same person? Is any trace of our former selves left within us after time passes? If so, how do we know?

It seems to me that change gains its significance from the anchors we drop at important ports of call throughout our life. Whether it is a particular belief, an achievement that lay the ground for what was to come, or a significant person, these anchors also serve as lookout points from which we can survey from where we have come and how we have changed.

In my world of wine experiences, Brown Estate in California’s Napa Valley is one of these anchors. My first visit there a mere year and a half ago fostered my now deep seated philosophy that wine is about how personality, belief and passion marry with time and place. If I am missing any of these components, then my experience with a wine isn’t quite complete.

Personality, belief and passion are rarely separable. This is something I understand each time I return to Brown Estate. On this, my third visit, I had the opportunity to think back on where my life was a mere year and a half earlier and how much I have changed both personally and professionally in this time. Driving up to the unassuming gate of the estate, my body also viscerally recalled the warmth this winery has managed to create in my heart. It was this uncontrolled immediate response that made me realize I had found the perfect place to look out and survey what had come before.

And now I understand why I felt what I did. While wine is objective in many ways, it is also deeply embedded in human experience. Any attempt to remove it from this experience will fail before it even begins. Wine is also cultural, and one’s choices of what one drinks have implications that are both immediately human and more broadly cultural.

If this is true, wine can be both a home and the possibility for a new voyage. It is exactly the kind of Odyssean voyage I wrote about after my first visit to Brown that draws one to what one loves best at the same time as it creates new experiences. On a human scale Brown is both a place to which I can return and a site of constantly evolving experiences. Culturally, Brown represents what I want wine to become in North America: an embedded part of our deepest beliefs and our greatest passions that only makes sense when shared.

Coral Brown beautifully summed up what I think is a core belief of the estate when she told me “Never give up an opportunity to taste something new; your palate never forgets.” This core belief expresses itself in the Brown’s approach to wine, which is counter to most of the dominant trends in California these days. This is, simply, that each wine has its own personality and its own experiences that make it what it is – no makeup and no apology required. When Coral poured their 2005 Chaos Theory (a co-fermented zinfandel and cabernet blend) she described the wine as a long term relationship where each person had so altered the other that they created a single harmonious blend. She contrasted this to the 2007 Chaos Theory (which was not co-fermented, but blended after fermentation), which she called a meeting of two passionate lovers, with each grape pushing to express its intensity.

Wine again became personality when Coral introduced me to her mother and father, who live on the estate, after pouring a glass of their supple and intellectual 2000 Cabernet Sauvignon. Her father, a man as subtle as the wine I was drinking, was also the most intriguing and thoughtful person I’ve met on a winery visit. A physician, he spends a tremendous amount of his time thinking of the deep issues involved in providing health care to those who have the hardest time accessing it, whether for financial or other reasons. I found my conversation with him both inspiring and humbling.

This is not Napa. The Browns are not ex-silicon valley CEOs with money to burn and a ‘passion’ for prestige wine making. Rather, the two senior Browns purchased the estate and its Abraham Lincoln era house as a get-away home and not as a winery. It was the children – Coral, Deneen and David – who decided to start growing grapes and sharing their story through the wines they make.

They also happened upon what I think is one of the great zinfandel terroirs in the whole of California. The mistake most critics make with the Chiles Valley AVA (where Brown is located) is to treat it as a single monolithic terroir. This is simply wrong. The AVA is quite large and there are huge microclimate differences within the region.

What makes Brown so special is that it is the last place moving inland from the San Pablo Bay where the fog penetrates before burning off. This makes Brown’s vineyards the coolest in the entire AVA, and some of the coolest in all of California. This means their Zins are far from ordinary and have much zippier acidity and consequently superior balance to almost any other expression of the grape I have tasted.

Zinfandel is the perfect grape for the Browns – it is sensuous, exuberant and full of life. However, in the hands of the Browns it is also elegant, balanced and extremely pure. The wines are also extremely true to and expressive of vintage. The 2008 Napa Valley Zinfandel possesses an unparalleled delicacy of aromatic expression that reflects the colder and wetter growing season. The Browns had to throw away a significant portion of their grapes, but the resulting wines are elegant, pretty and lively in the mouth. Their 2008s will prove to be the most food friendly and versatile of their wines just as the 2007s were, while less versatile, bolder and more intense.

The 2008 Westside Zinfandel offers darker fruits and a handful of freshly crushed cloves when inhaled. The wine is richer than the Napa Valley Zin, and quite dense. However, it is very well balanced and is long and expressive despite the characteristically high alcohol of Zinfandel.

But the most emblematic wine I tasted is also the one most unlike anything else they make. In 2002, when the Browns were first starting to make and bottle their own wines, they had not yet completed a temperature controlled winery in which to ferment their juice. It so happened that while the zinfandel was fermenting outside in tank, the temperature was so low outside that David Brown could not get the fermentation to a high enough temperature. They feared the worst and assumed the wines were worthless.

Several years later they opened a bottle and discovered that not only had the wine aged gracefully, but it was also one of the most unique expressions of Zinfandel they had ever tasted. The 2002 Napa Valley Zinfandel had a nose not unlike a richer Beaujolais cru, with crushed rocks and flowers. The low fermentation temperature somehow held back the richness of the Zinfandel while giving it prettier and softer aromatics than one would expect. It is a singular wine that speaks of time, accident, place, personality, belief, and passion. All in a single bottle of wine from an ugly duckling vintage.

Incidentally, while writing this article I opened the one bottle of 2002 Chiles Valley Zinfandel I had saved back from when I first visited the Browns. It is still drinking well, despite seeing a bit of heat shock in last summer’s heat wave in Vancouver. The pretty aromatics have started to mellow and I am now noticing more baking spices and cherry fruit. But the wine retains such an extremely delicate texture that is simply, and extraordinarily, singular.

It is with such wines of passion, power, sensuality, complexity and true vintage expression that Brown estate has become an anchor in my journey through wine. As I drift away from the heavy and fruity wines of Napa, I remain beholden with the people and the wines of Brown Estate. Somehow, amongst the morass of what Napa has become, the Browns have created an enclave for authenticity, honesty, and utter attentiveness to the personality and terroir they have been blessed with. I am fortunate that they have become an anchor and a lookout from which I can better understand how much I have changed and how much more I have to explore.

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San Francisco Reflections: A Journey Through Natural Wine

To commence a journey one needs a place to begin, a place from which perspectives can be formed. It is from this *beginning* that revelations gain their meaning and epiphanies derive their poignancy.

When I first visited San Francisco over 3 years ago my focus was on California and its vineyards. This was as it had to be for I had never visited a wine region before and I was only commencing my deeper interest into wine.

At the time I knew little of how wine was made and how techniques in the vineyard and the cellar impacted the final product. I was focused on the taste. My blog back then reflected this focus with its series of pithy tasting notes. My wine spoils from California back in 2006 consisted mostly of Petite Sirah, Merlot and Cabernet.

Over time not only has my palate changed, but so has my understanding of how and why wine is made. I have learned that while taste remains the crux of passion for the most dedicated wine lovers, taste itself is also elusive and profoundly intertwined with our knowledge and understanding.

This is like any aesthetic pursuit. By way of example, the dissonance and power of a Bartok string quartet often grates at the novice listener. With a little knowledge and understanding, however, the very same sensuous material transforms and gains nuance. What was once great becomes banal and what was once unpleasant and unintelligible becomes the source of our greatest exaltations.

And so it was that I touched down in San Francisco for my birthday in 2010, armed with a fresh perspective and a deeper understanding after four years of passionate – often excessive – exploration. What I found confirmed my rediscovery of the tasty and protean beverage we call wine.

A Dinner at Nopa or, How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love Macerated Whites

Sulphites are one compound that most wine drinkers are aware of. Often blamed for causing headaches and allergic reactions, its greatest crime is suppressing the aromatic profile of most wines. And yet, nearly all wines use sulphites either out of necessity or caution to prevent nasty faults from happening.

While dining on some very delicious food at Nopa in San Francisco at the reasonable hour of 11:30pm I tried my very first orange wine – the Damijan Kaplja 2003. This ‘white’ wine was macerated on its skins for several days, which added tannin, colour and depth to the wine. The early oxidation also allowed the wine maker to use absolutely no sulphites in the wine. This was unlike anything I had had before, playing chameleon to the various foods on offer from seared tuna to cheesy flatbreads and a caper-based pasta. Being a hybrid red and white wine gave it an astounding ability to pair with food.

The wine was also subtle and nuanced in its flavours and it changed as much as you would expect for a wine that goes with almost any food. I won’t bother trying to list flavours or other descriptors. Just know that this wine is elegant, nuanced, complex and unlike anything else. It blew my mind and was the perfect start to the weekend.

Alice Waters’ Revenge: Dinner and Drinks at Chez Panisse

After spending the day in Napa (to be the subject of future posts) I headed over to Berkeley for the dinner that brought me to San Francisco in the first place: Chez Panisse. For those who aren’t aware, Chez Panisse (and chef Alice Waters) is a legendary restaurant that invented the ‘100 mile diet’, which is the concept that all the ingredients should be sourced locally and raised or farmed ethically. In many ways this not only echoes the natural wine movement, but is the reason why this movement had ground to grow in in the Bay area.

The food focused less on Haute Cuisine and fancy techniques and more on simplicity and the quality of ingredients. Eating the food one gets the sense that Alice Waters could master almost any cuisine and yet chooses to focus on a humble approach to food. The fact that ethics and farmers/ranchers are the focus here shows how respectful Alice Waters is. This is rare for great chefs and in my books is tremendously admirable.

Oh, and the locally raised grass fed veal went perfectly with Paolo Bea’s 2006 San Valentino red blend from Umbria (Sangiovese, Montepulciano and Sagrantino). Bea is somewhat of an icon for the natural wine movement, but what I cared more about was the purity, delineation and clean expression of this otherwise rich and powerful wine. Although I do love his motto: “nature should be observed, heard,understood, not dominated.” All the poo-pooing of too much oak aging makes little sense in this context. In fact, I would say that this wine has helped me rediscover red wine, which is almost always overblown and overpriced.

The taste of Jacques Puffeney Chardonnay, which is oxidized in style, went well with the heirloom tomato appetizer even if it was far less subtle than the best Tissot single vineyard chardonnays I’ve had the pleasure to taste.

Baking and Banking: How Good Food and Wine Can Transcend Elitism

Yet another opulent meal found its way into my gullet at Baker and Banker, a trendy new restaurant in the very rich and very exclusive Pacific Heights neighbourhood. Despite the bevy of stuffy clientele, me and my plaid shirt ensconced in the sheer deliciousness of the food. A house-smoked trout and potato latke appetizer led into a truffled house made papardelle with wild mushroom pasta that both paired incredibly with what is perhaps my wine Mecca of the moment: J.P. Foillard’s 2008 ‘Cote du Py’ Morgon.

Beaujolais Cru is already great wine. When the French take the Gamay grape seriously it can produce wondrous results. The Foillard, however, is a wine unto itself. Deep, complex, and textured, this is a Grand Cru from Beaujolais. Its structure and intensity do not overwhelm immediate drinking. Instead, they support the cherry, strawberry and wonderful herbs and flowers that usher up from the glass. This wine definitely enjoyed decanting and is stunningly delicious now even while it can age for quite some time.

As with every wine in this writeup, Foillard is a ‘natural’ producer who adds little sulpher and is extremely vigilant with avoiding chemical fertilizers etc.

But it is not biodynamics or organics that matter here. Rather, these are wines made with passion, expertise and a willingness to sacrifice the ego and easy money in order to have the chance at producing something wonderful. That certain producers have mastered this balance is a testament more to them than it is to any particular methodology or philosophy. In the end it is a unique confluence of human and non-human that matters – nothing more or less.

Terroir – The Meaning of it All

Terroir: a concept, a philosophy, the source of countless debates. Also, a wine bar. But Terroir is also much more than a wine bar – it is the physical expression of a conviction for what I like to call ‘honest’ wine. Biodynamics, organics, natural wine. None of these labels matter. Terroir, a wine bar in the SOMA district of SF, really just pours a lot of delicious wine in an unpretentious space where you get to listen to classic and modern vinyl records while drinking mind-altering wines.

What did I have? As much as I could swallow.

Starting with the Palo Bea ‘Rusticum’ – which is basically a white wine with 15 days skin contact made by a bunch of nuns in Umbria. Delicious, singular and powerful. This is not subtle, but it is very very tasty. And it will change your perceptions of what white wine should/can taste like. I may have enjoyed the Damijan more, but this is great stuff.

Of course, the five other wines I tasted were all delicious, with standouts being an amazing 2006 Nusserhof Teroldego from Alto Aldige (large, gamey, singular), the Breton 2009 ‘La Diletante’ Bourguiel (delicious forest floor and clean cool black fruit) and the Julien Sunier 2008 Fleurie (probably the most aromatically beautiful Gamay I’ve ever smelled, topping even the Foillard).

The Reflections

Simply put: my palate has changed. I no longer enjoy extracted overly fruity wines; wines with overt wood tannins; wines that taste like caramel, or rich poached pears, or like red licorice. I also no longer enjoy most ‘prestige’ wines, whose personality seems to have been emphatically drowned out by technique and an amazing lack of accessibility and beauty.

These days I’ve turned to honest wines. Those with something I can’t understand – but with something undeniably compelling. They aren’t always easy to find, but last weekend in San Francisco served up an impressive survey into the kinds of wine that will forever change the landscape of my journey.

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Vancouver Drinks: Au Petit Chavignol

It has taken me far too long to visit this wine/cheese bar brought to Vancouver by the great cheese store Les Amis du Fromage. The main reason for this is its poor location, way out in the boonies on east Hastings many blocks past Main. With no other draw in the neighbourhood, it makes me wonder if the location planning was not thought through as well as it should have been.

This is a shame given how great I think this place is. Not only does it have the best (and most frequently rotating) cheese selections in the City (yes, better than Salt), it also has an excellent and eclectic wine list including the likes of Tissot’s Macvin (by the glass) and Vin Jaune and a good 30 or so bottle list of Riesling (which this summer are all 25% off a bottle). There are also some great hot food items, such as the delicious Croque Madam (the best I’ve had) and four types of mac and cheese. I chose to drink a nice bottle of dry german riesling for a mere $30 after discount, which knocked the socks of almost any wine priced at $30 in Vancouver restaurants. That is to say, it was real wine, drinking well, and going great with the food.

My only complaint (other than the location) is not something specific to Au Petit Chavignol: sherry prices. I am baffled at how restaurants and wine bars charge $7 for a two ounce glass of sherry and $10 for a 5 ounce glass of wine when the bottle of sherry costs far less than the bottle of wine. The entire purpose of most sherry is for excellent quality booze at an extremely low price. Why mark it up 3 times more than wine? This defeats the purpose and distorts what sherry is all about. This is a shame given how well sherry goes with food compared to many wines.

Despite this hiccup, Au Petite Chavignol is now amongst my favourite wine bars in the city. If only it were in a neighbourhood I actually frequented. As it is, I will be making the occasional trip out there to enjoy some stellar cheese and wine pairings, and perhaps one day indulge in some seriously ritzy mac and cheese.

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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Domaine Yves Cuilleron St. Joseph Blanc ‘Le Lombard’ 2005

As with most wine regions in Europe, in St. Joseph there is a tension between the old and the new. At what point does a producer cease being traditional and become modern? One point of comparison might be to look at vinification practices, but who is to say when any one technique bridges the purportedly vast gap between memory and anticipation.

When History Becomes Modern

If Domain Courbis attains venerability with its history dating back to the 16th century, then Domaine Yves Couilleron must look elsewhere for like wisdom. Within itself the Domaine lives its own tradition, with its oldest syrah vines being planted in the time of Yves’ grandfather in the 1930’s and 40’s. If we see things from the vine’s perspective – the oldest vines in the world top out at around 100 years – wisdom and time acquire a different meaning. And, indeed, the Marsanne vines for this wine were planted in 1967, thus sitting comfortably amongst the most venerable of its peers.

So what makes Yves ‘modern’ in the eyes of critics? Perhaps because his partnership with Pierre Gaillard and Francois Villard in planting old vineyards and focusing on fruit has earned him and his partners the reputation of New World influenced upstarts. Gaillard, for instance, was the first in the Northern Rhone to use oak for his whites. It could also be because he carries an American style passion for inventiveness and risk – which could also be why he is shaking up the region and helping to breath new life into some underdog styles, such as this white St. Joseph.

When is a Wine Natural? And Does it Matter?

There is much talk these days of ‘natural’ wine making. For Yves, ‘natural’ must be considered in context. If, for example, he eliminated all weed killing chemicals, he would have to increase his work force and increase the price of his wines about 35%. He feels this is untenable in the current economic climate. Furthermore, while he likes to use only natural yeasts, he does find that he cannot make his white wines dry without the addition of yeast towards the end of fermentation.

The question some might ask, then, is at what point do his wines cease being ‘natural’? For Yves, on the other hand, he is simply attempting to add his touch to wines so they can best express their terroir. He believes that the 6-7 grams of residual sugar that would result in naturally fermented whites would mask the terroir of the various plots in St. Joseph from which he makes his wine.

He also cask ferments his whites, using 25% new oak, but does not stir the lees. The fermentation lasts up to four weeks, to fully maximize the sugar in the fruit, which is often picked fairly late.

A Taste of the New

The Lombard, pure Marsanne, presents itself in the glass with a deep rich golden-hued yellow. The nose provides honey, toast, apples, and a hint of quince. One simply feasts on the palate, with its honey-apple spice and lonely rocky undertones. A delicate and structured wine, the Lombard is also elegant while holding more weight on the palate than the Courbis. I suppose if the Courbis is ‘traditional’, then this is ‘modern’ St. Joseph – but the differences are all those of perspective as both wines are delicious.

Excellent
$45 at Marquis Wine Cellars

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Beer From Afar: a Rare Beer Tasting

It has become a rare occurrence for me to write about beer these days. While I continue to love and explore this beverage, I’ve tended to focus on friend and community rather than analysis when drinking the stuff. But today I shared several of the best beers in the world with a very good and old friend who is soon to be married and it seemed an appropriate occasion to share my impressions.

We started with the Goose Island Juliet, a sour beer made with wild yeast and blackberries (made in Illinois). This was quite tart, but also balanced and very food friendly. I wouldn’t say it was the most complex sour I’ve ever tasted, but it is certainly excellent with food.

The second beer we had was the phenomenally complex Lost Abbey Cuvee de Tomme, one of the rarest beers in California and made by aging Lost Abbey’s Judgement Day ale in Bourbon Barrels and French Oak and then adding cherries and inducing a secondary fermentation with brettanomyces yeast to bring the beer up from 8 to 12% abv. This is definitely in the top 5 sour beers I’ve ever tasted, despite a low carbonation level. If you can find this it is worth every penny.

The next beer, Odin’s Tipple from Hand Brewery in Norway, brought incredible balance to the table. Rich, elegant and yet very long and complex, this was a nearly perfect stout-style ale and definitely in the top ranks of the style.

After the Odin’s Tipple the Alaskan Balkan Porter brewed with vanilla beans, cherries and aged in oak chips was not quite as amazing as it would have been outside of the context of the other beers. So, yes this is an excellent porter and far more complex than is normal for the style, but it does not quite reach to the top ranks.

We then continued with the extremely rare and absolutely awesome Founder’s Devil’s Dancer Triple IPA, which they rate as 112 IBUs (100 is the normal max). This was 12% abv and super bitter, but amazingly complex and surpsingly easy drinking. In fact, as someone who normally does not like IPA, I would consider this amongst the best examples of the extreme high alcohol IPA style today. Incredible stuff – and a pure palate wrecker.

Our last beer was the Nogne O Mikkeller collaboration sour ale brewed with Scandavian Cranberries and wild yeasts. This was very balanced and complex, bringing interesting herb flavours and a tart berry component that you’d expect given the ingredients. A very good quality beer and the only one in this tasting that is actually available in B.C.

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Vancouver Drinks: L’Abattoir

I rarely write about the drinking establishments here in Vancouver mainly because it is extremely rare to see a good and reasonable wine list. And despite the rare exception of Salt and Uva (which may go downhill now that somm Sebastien has left), there still isn’t anywhere here where you can buy wines driven by ethics and stringent agricultural and vinification practices. Vancouver is all about trends and most restaurants pour uninteresting wines that follow what they think consumers want to drink.

Further, while there are talented Sommeliers in the province, the liquor board makes it almost impossible for a professional to develop a list based on his or her own discoveries, which is often where drinkers can discover value, quality and excitement. Because the liquor board restricts what restaurants can buy, and charges them full retail, the sommelier’s job in this province has been homogenized and simplified.

This brief note is to commend Jake Skakun over at L’Abattoir (and co-author of Cherries and Clay) for starting to develop a list of wines that focuses on true value and on wines made with true attention to ethical practices in growing and vinifying grapes, despite the extremely tough environment created by BC liquor regulation.

When I dropped by I had a wonderful glass of dry Tokaji from Oremus (Vega Sicilia’s Hungarian winery) and a very nice glass of cool climate New Zealand Syrah from Tinpot Hut with plenty of pepper and herbs and great acidity – two types of wines you rarely see by the glass let alone on a bottle list. Both were reasonably priced by Vancouver standards. Add to this that Jake is constantly developing his list (something that is shockingly rare in Vancouver where too many sommeliers build and never change a list and rarely rotate their wines by the glass), and you have the starting components of an excellent wine experience.

I did not try the food on my visit, but I am looking forward to returning and seeing how Jake’s list stacks up with the food. The wines focus on acidity and freshness and I think they will likely show very well with what the kitchen is offering. L’Abattoir is in Gastown in the old Irish Heather location.

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