Archive for the ‘Grapes’ Category

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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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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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Domaine Courbis Saint-Joseph Blanc ‘Les Royes’ 2004

While Viognier is known for its aromatic complexity and its rich, opulent texture, as we move from Condrieu into St. Joseph, we also see a change in grapes from Viognier to Marsanne and Roussanne, known to be more elegant and restrained, often in need of a little age. We also see a move from a very small and closely demarcated wine growing zone to a very large and broad one, with multiple terroirs. St. Joseph has been so expanded over the years that it is difficult to predict the terroir and quality of a wine based simply on the appellation. Producer is what matters in St. Joseph, and if you want quality it is essential to properly research the producer whose wine you are buying.

White wine from St. Joseph is also very rare, comprising a mere 9% of the total production of the region. Marsanne, known for depth and richness, dominates the white blends in St. Joseph, but many wines also blend in Roussanne for acidity and aromatics. While there is debate over whether Marsanne and Roussanne grow best in granite (the undisputed choice for Syrah) or limestone soils, many important producers such as J.L. Chave, Domaine Coursodon and the producer of today’s wine Domaine Courbis, think that limestone produces the best white grapes.

This wine is grown in the famous Les Royes vineyard, one of the steepest in the Northern Rhone, which holds limestone and clay soils. It sits at between 200 and 270 metres above sea level and is well sheltered from the famous Mistral wind. The vines, comprising Syrah, Marsanne and Roussanne, average around 35 years of age, but the oldest are, impressively, over 60 years old. Everything produced at Courbis is hand harvested and left on the vine as long as possible. Because Courbis is so skilled at this technique, this means the white wines have incredible balance and phenollic ripeness without going too far into the realm of opulence.

Unlike the classic white St. Joseph, the Les Royes white is made with pure Marsanne dating from 1975 and is completely fermented in new Allier oak, which in the case of this wine is a very good thing. The wine also sees batonnage (lees stirring) and full malo-lactic fermentation – but that doesn’t mean it isn’t one of the most elegant St. Josephs available. Only the best casks are used and the total production is a tiny 3000 bottles or 250 cases.

The wine itself? Well, it offers a nose of apple, spice and rock and is very soft and clean – a general hallmark of this very elegant St. Joseph. The palate adds some interesting licorice and herbal/root characteristics along with apples. This has great flavour and structure and great elegance. It might lack a little in acidity, but this wine successfully combines power and elegance and a fantastic ability to pair with food. I had it with honey/tamari glazed Salmon and the pairing was extremely successful.

As rich, dense and opulent as the wines of Condrieu are, so far the wines of St. Joseph are discrete, powerful and yet very elegant.

Very Good+ to Excellent
$50 at Marquis Wine Cellars

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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Pierre Gaillard Condrieu 2005

One of the trends in Condrieu over the last few decades has been a move from a fresh steel fermented style that often saw arrested malo-lactic fermentation to a heavier oak fermented and barrel aged style with full malo. For the not so geekily inclined, this is equivalent to a move from making freshly squeezed juice to milkshakes. However, in this case the move occurred because a number of top growers realized that Viognier – the raw materials – was much better when vinified in a heavier and denser way. Some argue that the prevalence of aging in new oak has come to hide the multiple terroirs of Condrieu, but the grower/producers answer to that is a now sustained attempt to reduce the amount of new oak while maintaining a solid oak influenced backbone. It is thus on the vinification side of things that Condrieu is now coming into its own and learning how to express its terroir.

Gaillard is one of the modernist producers who really pushed to use oak. He began in 1995 with 2.5 hectares on one plot and now works four vineyard sites, most of which have granite soils. Interestingly, the southern part of Condrieu – where Gaillard grows most of his vines – overlaps with St. Joseph and so it is possible to produce both white Viognier wines labeled Condrieu and red Syrah based wines labeled St. Joseph from the same vineyard sites. However, whereas Gaillard produces 4 different St. Joseph cuvees, he only makes a single dry Condrieu, labeled simply by the region.

In the vineyards, Gaillard looks for near-overripeness in his grapes, and in the summer he strips leaves and excess vegetation so that the grapes don’t get quite that far. Lately, Gaillard has withdrawn from the use of new oak, even though he was one of the first to use it.

The wine itself is both a year older and is lighter in colour than the Villard I just reviewed. The nose is also duller and less expressive, with dill, stone, lemon and peach, though all in a more restrained manner than the Villard. Peaches, cream and dill come forward on the palate, which is not as long as the Villard but is perhaps a bit more balanced. This is ultimately a very different wine from the Villard, being more contemplative and less opulent, but also very successful with food (I paired it with a lobster, pea, lemon and white truffle risotto). I do, however, think that the Villard is superior in both structure and expressivity, perhaps providing ammunition that Viognier should be consumed young.

Very Good+
$60 at Marquis

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Spotlight on Rhone Valley White Wine: Francois Villard “Les Terrasses du Palat” Condrieu 2006

Sometimes one sibling can overshadow another, leaving it underappreciated. Oftentimes fame outweighs any appreciation of subtlety and personality. In the world of wine this is all too common an occurrence, even as the lesser known can become somewhat of a cult itself. Neither fame nor underground notoriety has christened the white wines of the Rhone Valley, and so it is even more surprising that the wines have grown in popularity over the years.

Flash back to 1971 and you would find that only about 12 hectares (30 acres) of Viognier were planted in the entire Rhone Valley, including the Condrieu sub-appellation. That’s barely enough grapes to make 2500 bottles, a mere pittance even for a single producer. By 2005, however, Condrieu expanded to 135 hectares – a far cry from 30 years prior. Part of the reason for this is the extreme steepness of the slopes, which makes planting and tending the vines not particularly cost-effective, and also the difficulty the vines have penetrating the topsoil, which, if they don’t do, relegates them to producing bloated fruit. The deepness of the vines is essential for great Viognier.

Unlike all the plantings in the new world, Condrieu is now populated with mostly old-vine pre-clone material, which for the non-geeky essentially means vines that often produce grapes with more character and depth. The other side of this were the crappy replantings in the 1980s where many producers started cropping their vines at yields far too high to produce anything of interest. As with any region, Condrieu is all about the growers and producers who do it right.

Condrieu is also the perfect example of why wine growers and makers need to treat their varities right. In the 1990’s it was common for producers to make wines in a ‘lighter and fresher’ style, much like Sauvignon Blanc. This is not the nature of Viognier, the best expressions of which are rich, dense and sensuously textured. Fermenting the wine at low temperatures became the norm and this killed the character and balance in the wines. Why go for up front zing when you can get density and an endless finish? That’s what trends can do.

Francois Villard is a new wave kind of Condrieu producer. He generally lets his grapes get to the point of a certain percentage of noble rot before vinifying and always uses oak. The Terrasses du Palate Condrieu has 20% new and 80% used oak and sees about 3-5% noble rot. These are overt wines, almost in the style of new world examples like that of John Alban from Paso Robles. The fact that Villard learned wine making on his own from books and trial and error? Well, that’s just a bonus.

The wine itself pours a lovely burnt yellow, looking much like an aged Riesling. On the nose I got apricot, honeysuckle, peach and toasted coconut. The palate is glycerous, rich and honeyed. Peach notes develop quickly, but the wine is also very long and deep in flavour. It is also elegant for such a rich wine, but in the end this is not a wine about tightness, clarity or precision. Rather, this is a wine about luscious texture, expressivity and exotic richness. And, the glycerous palate does nothing to interfere with the intense, flowered, wafting scents that speak purely of sensuous pleasure. This truly is a great wine wine and is a good indication of how excited I am about this spotlight.

Excellent
$60 at Marquis Wine Cellars

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A Sean Thackrey Vertical: Tasting Orion

Drinking a bottle of Sean Thackrey wine has become emblematic of a wine geek’s attempt to find American wine that pushes far beyond what most of American wine making has become. Opening a bottle of Sean Thackrey wine with a group of friends – Jake from Cherries and Clay, Matt and Aron from Kits Wine, and Huong – luckily, is a more humane and down to earth experience.

This ‘aura’ of Sean Thackrey has developed because of his unconventional, but compelling, philosophies and ideas about wine and wine making, and because he makes wine in a hermit-like setting and has what he thinks is the world’s largest collection of Medieval books on wine making, from which he gathers techniques he actually uses, such as open air, open vat fermentation. The history of wine has also had a profound impact on Thackrey’s philosophies, such as his view that the French concept of terroir is more about producing and maintaining real estate values than it is about what he considers the obvious idea that grapes are different depending on where they are grown.

The Orion, what tends to be considered Thackrey’s flagship wine, is as of 1992 made from the fruit grown in the Rossi Vineyard in Napa Valley. To understand this vineyard and what’s in it one has to understand a little about the history of the syrah grape and its migration to the United States. Through his historical research, Thackrey has found that in the 19th century, Hermitage and Cote Rotie grew completely different clones of Syrah, with Cote Rotie having what was known as “Serene” and Hermitage having syrah clones that are more similar to what some people now call Petite Sirah (which Thackrey argues has probably around a dozen clones itself). After the Phylloxera infestations in France, these differences were eviscerated and experts began calling all the red grapes grown in the Northern Rhone by one name: Syrah.

However, some time in the late 19th century was when immigrants brought many of the French grapes into California, including many of the old clones of Syrah that existed in pre-phylloxera Rhone Valley. Thackrey believes it is some of these old cuttings that were planted in the Rossi Vineyard in 1905 and that now comprise the mix of (mostly syrah) vines along with some other non-vinifera indigenous varieties. For Thackrey, clones are essential for determining the quality and style of a wine, and this is why he thinks the Rossi Vineyard is so unique.

But Thackrey doesn’t believe in a “terroir” approach that attempts to find the ideal expression of the site. He believes that a “wine maker” is like a chef, and that great wine is made through the creative process that occurs after the fruit is in his hands. Raw ingredients are essential (Thackrey harvests the grapes himself), but not determinative. Wine making is also, for Thackrey, decidedly not Enology, as he stated in an interview:

“Enology isn’t winemaking. It’s Enology. And that’s fine. It’s a perfectly separate, perfectly valid scientific discipline. What amazes me is that people think they have been trained as winemakers once they’ve got a degree in Enology. They haven’t even started. That doesn’t mean they may not be good ­ there are wonderful winemakers, great winemakers, who have degrees in Enology and came up through the Davis system, but it’s not because of Enology that they are great winemakers. It’s because they actually had a talent for it quite aside from that.”

It is in following this philosophy that Thackrey finds his style changing from year to year. For example sometimes he destems, other times not, depending on what he feels works in a given vintage. He also uses very little SO2 because he believes that too much of it in high alcohol wines (which the Orions tend to be) creates tremendous astringency and renders the finished wine undrinkable. Accordingly, he believes that the feeling of heat and aggressiveness people associate with high alcohol usually results from the addition of too much SO2 rather than the alcohol itself.

Tasting the Orions is an interesting experience, and I think one that benefits with the right perspective, a perspective that I think Thackrey captured well when he said:

“There’s no question that the exact same wine will often taste unrecognizably different from one day to the next. Exactly the same wine, so we’re not talking about microbial processes or anything; it’s just that the interface between human tasting and the wine will be quite different, thus, the wine will “taste” quite different. Taste is a verb, as in the old saying, “there are no great wines, only great bottles of wine”.

One day I’ll taste the Orion ­ it’s true of anyone going around and tasting with me, it’s not that this is just some problem of personal body chemistry ­ and it’ll be tasting harsh and nasty and closed and (snoring noises) ­ the next day, gorgeous, voluptuous, rich, complex, endless, absolutely wonderful stuff. Why is that? I have no idea whatever. Atmospheric pressure? Phases of the moon? Who knows? The point is to admit the fact; the explanation comes later.

But who wants to admit so inconvenient a fact? Does a sommelier want to have to recalibrate his or her entire wine list from one day to the next? Does a wine geek want to cancel a trophy tasting just because the wines will actually be worthless to taste on that particular day? No, no. It’s much better to go Republican about the whole thing. Hierarchy is hierarchy. These wines are wonderful, because these wines, no matter what they taste like, are the best, because we’re drinking these wines, and we only drink the best, therefore, these wines are wonderful. If you try to talk about the problem, even otherwise rational people tend to say: ‘Oh well, I guess, maybe it’s bottle variation.’ No. We’re not talking about that at all. There’s something about the interface between people tasting and what’s being tasted – particularly in the case of dry red wines – that can lead to fantastic changes from one day to the next. Again, for whatever reason, I’ve never noticed this at all in wines with residual sugar, such as Ports or Sauternes, and it’s much less of an issue with whites. Even in my own wines, it’s a major factor in tasting the Orion, and not much of one at all with the Pleiades.”

This is a great perspective to have when reflecting back on my notes of the four Thackrey wines we tasted, and one to keep in mind more generally.

We started with the three Orions, moving from youngest to oldest. The 2006 Orion showed a very expressive nose with eucalyptus, road tar, black fruit and some varnish, which made Matt wonder if there was a lot of volatile acidity in the wine. Upon further research I discovered that the Rossi vineyard has a large amount of a particular naturally occurring yeast that produces a lot of volatile acidity, so I think it is safe to say that there was some of that going on here. This, as Aron said, is a monstrous wine to drink. It has extreme oak and black fruit, but also a very nice herbal component that we found consistent across the three vintages. And, given the 15.5% alcohol, this was balanced for its ‘category’. $75 USD + ~$140 at Kitsilano Wine Cellar.

The 2005 Orion, unfortunately, was hugely muted and likely had a touch of cork taint in it as the aromatics were suppressed and the finish very short. It could also just be in a dumb phase or perhaps was less of a successful vintage, but the chances of a flaw were too high to analyze this effectively. $75 USD.

The 2004 Orion was the unanimous favourite at the table. It was far more elegant than the 2006 and extremely expressive on the nose, with similar aromas, but more subtlety and more classic syrah-like characteristics like smoke and olives and, again, that great herbal quality that makes these wines so interesting. This is still an oaky and tannic wine, but not really like what you associate with those words and California. It was long, smooth and tremendously elegant for such a big wine. I loved it and would love to see how it developed over the next several years. 14.4% alcohol. $75 USD.

We also tasted the 2004 Sirius Petite Sirah, which was made from 6 clones of Petite Sirah grown in the Eaglepoint Ranch Vineyard in Mendocino County. This was over the top in its density and much more difficult to appreciate compared to the Orion. It lacked the expressivity and nuance and the elegance that the Orions managed to put together. It did, however, have huge tannins, some blue fruits, and herbal qualities that make it unlike many other Petite Sirahs, suggesting that the clonal selection is as important as Thackrey believes. 15.3% alcohol.

These were all very fascinating wines, but the consensus was also that they are difficult to drink a lot of. Their high alcohol and tannin are overwhelming, even as the wines, particularly the 04, were delicious. But, as Thackrey notes in his quotation, wine tasting is an inherently inconsistent exercise, and that is what makes it so interesting. The fact is that these wines are unlike pretty much anything else coming out of California right now and are wines worth revisiting over time and considering in the larger context of California wine. All are decidedly new world in style but also singular and complete wines in themselves, and these days that is a rarity in the world of high end Napa Valley reds.

Note: Interview quotes taken from the full interview on Gang of Pour.

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