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.

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.

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.

Spotlight On New World Pinot Noir: Sojourn Cellars Sonoma Coast ‘Sangiacomo Vineyard’ Pinot Noir 2006

sonoma coastToday I venture a few hundred kilometres north of Santa Barbara County into Sonoma County. While Pinot Noir is grown in many regions within the County, including the notable Russian River Valley, today’s wine was produced with fruit grown in the hot (as in popular) Sonoma Coast AVA. This AVA is somewhat weird given that it was created for political reasons in order to allow certain wineries to continue to label their wines as estate bottled, despite the fact that the region is vast and encompasses dissimilar terrain, including parts of the Russian River and Carneros. However, a lot of really hot pinots are coming out of this AVA, even if it is unrealistic to describe a “Sonoma Coast” style.

The Sonoma Coast has extreme exposure to marine influences and high altitude, making it one of the coolest regions in Northern California. Because conditions are so cool, the best vineyards here actually face south to allow the grapes to ripen fully. Similarly to the Santa Rita Hills, the Sangiocamo vineyards in the Sonoma Coast AVA are very close to the ocean in what is called the “petaluma gap”, which is a region where cool air is drawn inland and also one of the last regions where grapes are harvested in Sonoma.

In terms of the vintage, according to the Sojourn website, “The 2006 growing season was a challenging one in many respects for Sonoma County grape growers. June and July brought blistering heat, mixed with some very cool and foggy stretches of weather. Clusters were very tight and berry sizes were larger than normal.”

Sojourn cellars was started by a couple of friends with a passion for grapes – a familiar story in California. They claim that they want to make new world wines that are influenced by the old world (whatever that means). I can tell you that I don’t think these wines have much “old world” in them, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t unique. Recently Sojourn Cellars has started to gain semi “cult” status, with some big ratings on their pinot noirs making the wines go upward in price and downwards in availability. The fact that the price is still reasonable for the quality is probably helping them sell their wines despite the recession.

IMG_4623This wine is unique. I’m not sure I’ve tasted a Pinot Noir quite like this before. It is undoubtedly very different from the Au Bon Climat Santa Rita Hills Pinot that I looked at yesterday. I should also mention that this was TIGHT when I first opened the bottle, and really only came into its own with a couple hours of decanting. But, right now as I smell the wine I get earth and cherry in a classic pinot way, but also a dense layer of herbs that gives the wine an almost grassy spicyness on the nose (kind of like sniffing mountain grass).

When I first tasted the wine I was not into it. It was a bit syropy, had dominant oak flavours, and quite harsh alcohol on the back end (it is 14.4% ABV). But boy did that change with the decant. Now this wine is tasting like earthy cherry, really unique almost curry like spices (think Korma), and deep herbal notes. I also enjoy its wild berry tartness and freshness, even as it has a hell of a lot of structure from the oak. The vanillan quality of the oak really subsided with air and became a beautiful layer of custard-like viscosity. My initial thought that this was over-oaked was simply misplaced. In fact, I would say this is one of the most interesting Pinot Noirs that I have tasted. It’s nothing like anything, except itself. You gotta love wine like that.

Excellent
$47 at K&L in San Francisco

Spotlight On New World Pinot Noir: Au Bon Climat Santa Rita Hills (Mt. Carmel, Sanford & Benedict, Le Bon Climat) Pinot Noir 2004

santabThe second theme in the spotlight series is New World Pinot Noir. I chose this theme for a few reasons. On a personal level, because I have been trying for years to find New World Pinot that I love and appreciate as much as good Burgundy and have yet to be fully successful. On a trend level because since Sideways hit the box office Pinot Noir sales have jumped and the interest in the grape has skyrocketed. But, I wonder, has anyone in the new world really pushed the boundaries of this grape in the last few years? And, lastly, I am excited about this spotlight on a ‘professional’ level because I want to see if I can detect differences not only in stylistic approach, but also in ‘terroir’ between some of the New World’s most famous Pinot Noir growing regions.

With all these goals in mind I will be surveying the most famous regions for producing Pinot Noir in the new world, including California’s Central Coast and Sonoma Valleys, Willamette Valley in Oregon, Central Otago and Marlborough in New Zealand, and the Adelaide Hills of Australia. I am not convinced that Chile is close to the level of these regions when it comes to Pinot Noir so I won’t be including it in this series.

To get the fun started, I am going to be taking a look at the inspiration for the Sideways movie in the first place: Santa Barbara County. Or, more specifically, the Santa Rita Hills. The Santa Rita Hills were the first and most important site for growing Pinot Noir in Central California, and are home to perhaps the most famous Pinot Noir vineyard on the Central Coast: the Sanford & Benedict Vineyard. This vineyard lies in a sheltered area in the hills that sees ocean mists and fog sweep in over the vines in the morning, and burn off by the afternoon. I think this vineyard is no more than 15 or so miles from the Coast, which means cool breezes are a fact of the vines’ life.

Interestingly, the current robust wine scene in the Central Coast region started only in the early 1990s, when vineyard land was incredibly cheap and a good alternative to the ever-increasing expense of Napa Valley in the north. More specifically, the Santa Ynez and Santa Maria Valleys of Santa Barbara County proved themselves to be the ideal sites for growing chardonnay and pinot noir, due to the relatively cool climate compared to Napa. The Santa Rita Hills (part of the westernmost reach of the Santa Ynez Valley), is a series of rolling hills that tends to get quite cool. It has a mixture of soil types, including sand, silt, and clay. The key conditions that make growing Pinot Noir here so unique is that there is very low rainfall here compared to Sonoma County, for example, and so the growing season is very long, allowing the fruit to ripen slowly and fully develop its aromatic potential. The cool ocean air keeps the grapes quite high in acidity, however, which means that if the vines are overcropped the wines will be overly acidic. The best winemakers, however, produce wines with great vibrancy and a rich fruityness that is unique in California.

IMG_4619Au Bon Climat, and Jim Clendenon (the winemaker), are an iconic standby in the region, making Pinot Noir from grapes grown in the Santa Maria and Santa Ynez Valleys, as well as in the Santa Rita Hills. Starting in the 1970′s at Zaca Mesa winery, Clendenon went on to form Au Bon Climat with Adam Tolmach (now of Ojai fame). These wines have always been made with, as David from Marquis suggested, one big foot in France and one little one in California. You can detect this style with each wine of his that you drink.

The wine itself is, for me, classic Santa Rita Hills, and it reminds me much of the Alma Rosa wines made from similar fruit. This wine is actually blended from the fruit of three vineyards located in the Santa Rita Hills (including the westerly portion of the Sanford and Benedict Vineyard). On the nose this wine had a rich character of strawberry, cherry, spice, and rhubarb with underlying hints of earth and a fine stemmy burgundy-like character. The palate was similar to the nose, but added licorice and had good weight to the mid-palate, some stems and earth. The wine’s bright fruit gives it a sweetness and, along with the clean and ripe tannin structure, makes this very easy drinking. I quite enjoyed it, although I must admit it is hard to notice the difference between this and pinots made with similar fruit from other vineyards. I will be curious to compare the ‘terroir’ of Santa Rita with that of Sonoma, which will be the subject of the next post in this series.

Very Good+
$48 at Marquis

A Weekend Treat: Flying Horse Napa Valley Petite Sirah 2006

IMG_4577I have one more post to go in the Southern Italy series, but I wanted to write up this little treat I have been sipping on for a few hours now. I feel compelled to do so because this is not only a great value wine, but it represents the difference between thought, care, and passion on one side, and mass market, simplification, and dumbing down on the other.

Petite Sirah is a tough grape to make really well. It’s hard to ripen at high altitudes, but it can get flabby and weak in endless heat. Add to that the tendency of producers these days to add a tremendous amount of oak treatment to their wines, ripen the grapes to obscene levels, and generally burn or manipulate all of the original and beautiful rustic character of Petite Sirah out of it, and you have a grape with great potential but little realization. This bottle of wine shows the possibilities of the variety in California. It could be the next zinfandel.

Petite Sirah, when done right, actually does not have high alcohol, massive fruit forwardness or even simple approachability. Rather, Petite Sirah is rustic just like, say, aglianico is rustic or tempranillo from warmer regions in Spain. Petite Sirah is a very small grape with a high skin to flesh ratio, and therefore a tremendous potential for tannin and extract. But it’s unique because all that great flavour and ageability comes, in California mind you, with the simple pleasure of a wine under 14% ABV. I can’t push this variety enough, as long as you taste the right example.

So, it seems that John Clerides over at Marquis has found THE textbook example of petite sirah. I say this as a PS lover who has had many many expressions of the grape when I lived down in California. The Flying Horse is special. With classic blackberry and plum on the nose, this is a classic kind of wine that doesn’t need manipulation. It is pure in itself. The palate brings tons of berry fruit flesh, and is really alive. You can taste the life in the wine. There is proper acidity here, along with a great mouthfeel. I think this also has a ton of structure that gives this wine the potential to age into something that would equal a $100 bottle of wine. It’s also great because it can clearly pair with food that is made in a more french style rather than the pure fat bbq stuff that most petite sirah needs. The restrained oak does not cover over a fundamental rusticity that keeps the wine real and true to the grape. This is getting more and more uncommon these days. Absolutely wicked. Textbook petite sirah.

NB: The last wine I wrote up this well sold out the day after my review, so please save some for me, I need more of this.

Excellent and Highly Recommended Value
$36 at Marquis

Orin Swift The Prisoner 2008

IMG_4528It is always interesting for me to return to this wine. It was the first wine I had when I first took a trip to Napa Valley two and a half years ago. I drank it at Napa’s Bounty Hunter, a cool little retail shop / restaurant that represented the kind of thing I wished was possible in Canada. Our draconian regulatory licensing scheme makes such a venture impossible, so the memory of such places has become an ideal for me to fight for in the local wine scene.

My first trip down to Napa was also precipitous in my exploration into the vast world of wine. Back then I hadn’t tasted much of anything over $20 a bottle, and I tended to stay with things that I knew more. I was only just starting to make a more in-depth foray into regions beyond Australia and California. In reflection, it’s amazing what I’ve learned in such a short period of time. And, it is this wine – Orin Swift’s incredibly successful Prisoner zinfandel blend – that reminds me of the beginning of this journey.

This is particularly interesting since The Prisoner is stylistically vastly removed from what I tend to drink today, with a massively sweet nose of blueberries and figs. The palate reminds me of how exciting it was to taste this level of fruit concentration in wine before I knew anything. This vintage is massive with its dried blueberry, fig, chocolate and subtle spice tasting like an incredibly concentrated reduction. This is not a bad wine, unlike the massively disgusting 2005 Paraduxx zinfandel blend I had two nights ago, which had so much heavy oak treatment the fruit was indistinguishable from the cream and caramel. No, this is a very well made wine – but it is absolutely huge and sweet and does not try to produce subtlety, finesse or nuance. This is all fruit all the time. And it does this well. Perhaps most importantly, it serves as a yardstick by which I can measure my stylistic drift and expansion over the years. Whereas in early 2007 I would have jumped for joy at this wine, now I find it easier to place and far less exciting. Wine really is a fascinating journey.

Very Good
$55 at BCLDB

Neyers Pato Vineyard Contra Costa County Mourvedre 2006

IMG_4320Inspired by some recent discussion of California Mourvedre, I promptly set out to sample what I could find. That turned out to be almost nothing – this was the only bottle readily available here in Vancouver. Luckily, Neyers is generally an outstanding producer and one of my personal favourites from California.

If you’ve ever visited or (as I have) lived in the East Bay, then you know that when you think of Contra Costa you think as much of urban sprawl as you do wine. In fact, it’s actually surprising that there are any vineyards left in that part of California. There are several old-vine zinfandel vineyards left here, and I’ve had a Turley zin from here that was quite exceptional. There is also plenty of Mourvedre, for some reason, and so there is ample fruit from which to make single varietal wines of this type. I have my suspicions as to the quality of much of it, however.

The nose on this wine was gamey, with roast meats, char, and black currant. The palate brought olives, a saline character, char, rich black fruits such as black currant, fig and plum, and a nice gamey finish with some herbal characteristics. This is really solid wine, is very nuanced, and even if it has a touch of heat on the back end, I’d say this is wine with finesse. Finesse and flavour, together at last. There is something compelling about the gameyness to this wine, and it reminds me a little of a cross between Bandol and California. This is very well done and speaks a lot for the potential for Mourvedre in California.

Very Good+ to Excellent
$45 at Marquis

Peter Franus Brandlin Vineyard Mount Veeder Zinfandel 2005

IMG_4293I’m on a bit of a zinfandel kick lately. Perhaps it’s the cold weather that brings out my desire for tons of fruit and huge forwardness. I picked up this bottle at Marquis tonight – who definitely have Vancouver’s best selection of zinfandel – and I was highly impressed.

Coming from Napa’s Mount Veeder AVA, this single vineyard zin offered up a tremendous nose of raspberry, pure expressive strawberry, briar, and a nice saline black olive savory side. The palate was textbook zinfandel: chocolate, strawberry, raspberry, cloves and cinnamon. I loved this wine. It was big and up front, but also had savory elements to the nose and finish (which was quite herbacious) that made this far more than a one-dimensional zinfandel. I did feel the heat to begin with, but the cold weather and my hearty shepherd’s pie made short work of that. I’m starting to think that high elevation zinfandel is my cup of tea – they certainly seem to carry far more complexity and balance than stuff that just sits in heat all day long. Also, this is good value for the BC market, at only $10 more than the winery release price.

Oh ya, and this is made from 80 year old vines and blended with a very tiny amount of mourvedre and carignan, probably for colour and tannin. And, ya, a 668 case production made from purchased fruit. This prompts me to seek out more from PF.

Excellent
$45 at Marquis

Outpost Howell Mountain Zinfandel 2006

IMG_3720Outpost is a lauded producer from the Napa Valley AVA Howell Mountain. Howell Mountain is one of the most respected sites in the valley, and it has built a reputation for being able to produce unique zinfandel and petite sirah wines due to the elevation and cooler temperatures. I was frankly expecting a lot from this zinfandel, especially since previous vintages were spoken of so highly by many I respect. Unfortunately, while this is still tasty, I fear it suffers from what Gary Vaynerchuck has come to call the “oak monster” – there is simply too much oak on this wine for the fruit to truly shine.

Despite that, the nose gave up focused fruit – fresh raspberry and cherry – along with black pepper, cinnamon and a little briar or underbrush. To be honest, the nose was immensely promising and did not give a hint of what was to come on the palate. The palate was very peppery to begin with, but ended up with lots of baking spice, creamy cherry, and a bunch of vanilla and richness. The wine has good body, good structure, and is really very well made. However, it just loses out on its opportunity to truly excite with the heavy oak, and probably heavy lees stirring given the overly creamy texture. It’s too bad as I have been looking for a zinfandel to rival Brown Estate’s, and thought this might to the trick. Unfortunately, it did not. Some will enjoy, but not worth the hype.

Very Good+
$45 at Dean and Deluca in St. Helena