Archive for the ‘$60+’ Category

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 Lately, Gaillard has withdrawn from the use of new oak, even though he was one of the first to use it.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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Vietti Barbera d’Alba ‘Scarrone’ 2006

Barbera is a difficult grape to consolidate into a single stylistic character. It varies from traditional bright and fruit driven high acid styles to richer, darker, more brooding oak aged styles. A recent series of articles by Cory Cartwright of the fantastic Saignee blog saw Cory tasting through a ton of oak aged barberas in Piedmont much to his disliking. In fact, the oak aged style of barbera has come to be quite controversial, with traditionalists believing that barbera’s true character becomes overwhelmed when it is aged in oak.

And, of course, Oak is only one of the factors to consider with Barbera. There is also the site in which it is grown, with Alba providing more of the high quality single vineyard sites than Asti, both in Piedmont. Barbera’s versatility and vigor also makes it possible to plant all over northern Italy, so it is not that challenging to find examples from some of the less famed regions such as Rubino or Gabiano.

Not having had the opportunity to taste through as many of the oaked wines as Cory did on his trip, I have to admit that this particular wine from famed producer Vietti (which was aged in oak) impressed me and piqued my interest in the possibilities of barbera in oak. Perhaps the Vietti example is one of the few that does well with oak, but I found several elements quite enjoyable about this wine.

First off, Vietti managed to maintain some of the classic barbera aromas of black cherry – but this wine also added felt tip marker, a brooding figgy quality and other dark fruits. If barbera could ever approximate nebbiolo, then this would be the wine that does it, being the densest barbera I’ve ever tasted.

The palate offered more cherry, but also chocolate, fig, plum, along with smoke, tobacco, and tea (likely brought to the scene by the oak). The massive structure and dense and as yet undelineated mid-palate makes me think this wine needs another 3-5 years. The big question is, how will it resolve in that time?

If you are curious to see the good things that oak can do to barbera, or at least one of the better examples of the style, you could do a lot worse than the Vietti Scarrone.

Excellent
$60 at Kitsilano Wine Cellars and Marquis [I got mine at Esquin in Seattle]

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Spotlight on Spain: Torres Grans Muralles 2001

Torres is one of the most important wine makers in Spain, having introduced many modern varieties to Penedes and having brought international grapes and an international style to South America (Torres has a notable winery in Chile) when World War II shut off access to European markets. Torres was also, amazingly, a pioneer in bottling his own wines, which helped him to take control of his own branding, which accordingly resulted in some serious market penetration in the North and South American markets.

Torres’ range of wines is truly eclectic and comprehensive, ranging from good value blends of indigenous grapes, to single varietal bottlings of Cabernet Sauvignon, Chardonnay, and high end single vineyard field blends of indigenous grapes.

Catalonia as a region has seen some serious change starting from the 1950s, prior to which it originally made oxidized wines known as rancios and vinos de licor. Now, with Torres being a prime influence, Catalonia is making a huge range of wines, from ‘traditional’ to modern, using indigenous and international grapes and from large volume to small artisanal producers. Catalonia is truly a mash up of Spain’s schizophrenia.

This bottling is made with grapes grown in Conca de Barbera, a region just west of Penedes (where Torres is headquartered). Conca de Barbera is known mostly for producing high quality grapes for Cava producers. Soils here are chalky, alluvial ones over limestone bedrock. The region is sheltered by surrounding mountain ranges and produces wines mostly in a modern style, many from international grapes such as Chardonnay and Cabernet Sauvignon.

This wine, however, is not made with international grapes nor is it made in a cheap quaffing style like Cava. This is another beast. A blend of Monastrell, Garnacha Tinta, Garro, Samso, and Carinena, the Grans Muralles is an extremely unique sort of wine made from a single vineyard of the same name. The vineyard is 94 hectares, and 32 of these are dedicated to producing this wine. While the soils in this vineyard are slate and gravel, perhaps the most interesting part of the wine here are the indigenous grapes: Garro being a traditional Catalan grape that nearly disappeared, and the strange Samso, which according to Torres has an “intense pigment, good body and a magnificent structure.” Of course, the other three grapes are also indigenous to Spain, although have since spread internationally.

Putting glass to nose exposes bread, cherry, blackberry and deep scented violets. This is really pleasant and intriguing to smell. The palate was fantastic, with a quite soft and silky structure, lots of earth, underbrush and herbs, and a nice cherry and blackberry fruit presence. The wine is also very floral, and it is this wonderful aromatic component that is so enticing. I might describe this as a cross between a modern Rioja, a classic Bordeaux, and a bracing Southern Rhone/Languedoc wine – really an intriguing and lovely combination. I think wines like this are the exact sort of wines that make Spain exciting and that are a model of how a large producer can and should be a champion of the history and tradition of their region, not only keeping the indigenous grapes alive, but showing their full potential.

Excellent
$90 at BCLDB

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Champagne Day: H. Billiot Cuvee Laetitia Brut

Grower Champagne – that rare bottle of bubbly where the name on the bottle indicates the entire chain of production rather than a branded endpoint – comprises a mere 20% of Champagne’s overall production. And yet, the growers are on a relentless path towards dominating an ever increasing percentage of the highest quality wines of the region. Why should this be the case?

Unlike pretty much every other region of France, Champagne only has a single AOC – meaning that there is no real way to tell where a wine is from by the basic labeling on the bottle. Some might go further and say ‘premier cru’ or ‘grand cru’ fruit, but the villages that have been given these designations consist of a huge number of farmers, each with different vineyard practices and even, potentially, terroirs. How, then, can a consumer tell whether the fruit from which a wine was made was made with care, passion, good vineyard practices and the least amount of chemical additions as possible? The only way for a consumer to know is to invest considerable time and effort into researching a particular house’s practices, and even then one could end up never finding the answer, as the houses are pretty secretive about such things.

This is where the growers come in. While not all growers are producing outstanding wines, they are at least in control not only of the wine making process but also the farming of the vines. By simply looking up where a grower’s vineyards are, a consumer can tell what they are drinking. However, without an official legal designation for particular terroirs, it is almost impossible to tell any of this information from the label on a bottle of Champagne.

Of course, the debate still rages about whether blending or terroir will produce the best wines, but I always find the terroir based approach a bit more interesting, since there tends to be more diversity of philosophies and more argument about what constitutes the most effective approach for a particular place and a particular style. Does the ‘terroir’ approach always produce the best wines? Well I’m doubtful of that since I think terroir is a bit of an elusive ideology for what is actually a debate about the philosophy and science of production. But that’s a debate for another post.

H. Billiot, neighbour to the well-respected grower Egly-Oriet, has his vineyards on the southern side of the famous Montagne de Reims, which is north of the Cote des Blancs where the fruit for most of the Chardonnay based Champagnes are grown. Particularly, Billiot is in the “grand cru” village of Ambonnay.

The soil type here is chalk and lignite deposits (a mineral that is more nourishing for vines than chalk), and while the Montagne de Reims is best known for Pinot Noir, there are also plantings of Pinot Meunier and Chardonnay, the last of which comprises the substance of the Champagne I drank.

This was an incredible Champagne that hit heights greater than many many wines I’ve consumed. I could describe the yeasty apple nose, but that means little. I could also suggest that the wine is hugely fruity and explosive while also retaining fundamental elegance and a profound delicacy, but that could just seem like hyperbole. All that matters, really, is that this wine combines finesse and fruit in the way that you expect the best Champagnes in the world to do. And, it achieves its lofty aim with what seems like minimal effort.

Paired with a truffle/miso glazed sea bass and truffled popcorn that I made, this was the epitome of both the exceptional ability of Champagne to pair with food and of how terroir based grower Champagne can match the best cuvees of the houses at 1/3 of the price.

Excellent+
$130 at Kitsilano Wine Cellar

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Spotlight on Spain: Finca Allende Calvario 2002

Let’s speak of vintage. 2002 is considered by pretty much everyone in the wine world as a horrendous vintage for most of Europe. Lots of rain and snow and poor ripening along with plenty of rot ruined the crop for most vintners. But what, we might ask, is in a vintage? Time, history, climate, geography? Archaeological evidence suggests that the Romans started producing wine in Rioja thousands of years ago. The Moorish occupation of the Iberian peninsula did not put an end to production, and instead tolerated it. What did vintage mean to these peoples? What vintage can represent the diverse histories of a tradition?

The Christian reconquista of the 15th century saw the return of higher volume wine production in Spain, and Rioja. And the rest, well, that’s become the development of the modern industry in Spain. So, I ask again, what’s in a vintage? Can we think of it merely as the expression of the climate and geography of the few fleeting moments between dormant winter and fervent autumn? Or is vintage also history, ghost-like and ungraspable as it is?

Who’s to say, but this 2002 Calvario from the ‘new wave’ Finca Allende (started in 1995), spoke of wine making more than vintage, with dusty dark cherry notes and rich modern espresso. Hugh Johnson calls this wine “exuberantly fruity”, but he does not mention its density, which is formidable. The tannins give a masculinity to the cherry fruit and herbal finish. A difficult wine from a difficult time, inked in with little moments of pleasure.

Very Good
$70 at BCLDB, Marquis ($48 on sale)

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Champagne Day: Larmandier-Brunier “Terre de Vertus” Blanc de Blancs Premier Cru NV

I’ve decided that Champagne is both overlooked and too darn tasty not to drink more often. So, I’ve decided that once a month, on a random day, I will open a bottle of Champagne and write about it. This is the first of such ventures, and a good hold-over until my next BC winery profile.

Vertus, where this wine is grown and made, is located in the southern reaches of the Cote Des Blancs in Champagne – a region known for Blanc de Blancs (or Champagne made with 100% Chardonnay grapes). Champagne’s tradition is one of ‘houses’, with the great names buying grapes from unknown growers (at least to most consumers) and blending them together to make a range of wines, usually culminating in a prestige Cuvee (such as Roederer’s Cristal). However, most of the big houses also sell plenty of boring and overpriced blends for the average drinker, banking on their names. On the other side are what have become known as grower Champagnes, which are Champagnes made by the same farmers that grow the grapes. These have been gaining critical and wine geek traction as such producers attempt to make a vin de terroir.

However, all this said, a recent article by Jancis Robinson has put an important reflective caveat on valorizing all grower champagne by pointing out that there are also very good Champagnes from traditional houses. Personally, I’m still far more excted about the growers!

Pierre Larmandier, owner of Larmandier-Brunier, is clearly in favour of the grower Champagnes, being one himself. He spent a while studying in Alsace and Burgundy and noted that the best growers there got the same respect as the best producers. This, of course, is not traditionally the case in Champagne. Larmandier figures that as big houses “suffocating the vineyard”. “We have superb terroir” he says, “but we only make good wines from it”. Andrew Jefford in “The New France” calls Champagne traditionally “a wine of general appeal rather than particular excellence.” This pattern, however, is being challenged by the new breed of Grower-Producers who want the soil to express itself in Champagne in as profound a manner as Burgundy. As Jefford puts well, “We are prepared to pay that much for champagne not because it is worth it, but because there is no functional alternative and that is what the experience of drinking it costs.” This truism is unfortunate, and in my once monthly Champagne indulgance I will seek out the growers and producers putting this maxim to the chopping block.

Larmandier-Brunier’s “Terre de Vertus” is an attempt to express the terroir of their Vertus based vineyards as cleanly and articulately as possible. Extremely rare in Champagne, this wine has zero dosage, which means that no sugar is added to the wine after fermentation. This technique is traditionally used in order to up the residual sugar and balance the often highly acidic result of many sparkling wines.

Larmandier-Brunier is also a biodynamic domaine, and, accordingly, do not use additives or artificial fertalizers. Emphasis is put on viticulture and the resulting product is nothing short of outstanding. On their website Larmandier-Brunier explain the basics of their viticultural appraoch:

“The recipe for good-quality grapes is simple but demanding: old vines, working the soil, moderate yields; vines which thrive without having fertilisers forced into them, and mature grapes picked by hand.

But the terroir is not enough; it is to wine what the score is to music. What’s the point if the grape variety, the vineplant (the instrument) and the winegrower (the performer) are not up to standard?

Consequently, our vines are cultivated with respect for the terroir (ploughing, which favours deep-reaching roots and preserves the life of the soil) and respect for the balances of the plant throughout the growing period. In this way, the yields are naturally moderate and the wine shows its appreciation, through both its structure and its maturity.”

This was the most elegant Champagne I’ve tasted in my limited experience – very focused, delicate and intricate. The flavour – crisp apple and lithe stony mineral – is far less important to this Champagne than its texture and its structure. Oh so very clean while in the mouth, this evolves like a Wordsworthian poem, in ebbs and flows of pleasure and contemplation. But despite the subtlety of its flavour profile, this Champagne is also deeply mineral driven and presents a stony complexity that very few Champagnes I have had do. A fundamental match for salmon mousse or paté, this calls for foods with light delicate textures and focused primal flavours – I’m sure the classic oyster pairing would work fantastically here.

So, it’s time to forget about waiting for an excuse and start opening up a bottle of Champagne for no reason at all other than the moment itself. It’s well worth it: Champagne is quickly becoming the source of some of my all time favourite wine experiences.

Excellent
$110 at Kitsilano Wine Cellars

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Spotlight on New World Pinot Noir: Grosset Pinot Noir 2005

Australia is not a land known for Pinot Noir. Notwithstanding its current market woes, with people turning away from its innocuous ‘critter’ wines in ever increasing droves, Australia just never built a reputation for this storied grape. Not that it didn’t try to.  It’s just that Australian Pinot Noir never really produces wines so easy to consume as its jammy shirazes. There have been growers bucking this trend though, especially in the regions surrounding Melbourne, such as the Yarra Valley, which tends to be a lot cooler than the rest of Southern Australia. Also, Australia has quite strict quarantine provisions that, unlike New Zealand and Oregon, have prevented the newest Dijon clones from being planted. If Australia opens its borders, the potential for Pinot Noir will likely dramatically increase.

The Grosset Pinot Noir is actually from a region lesser known for its Pinot Noirs and more for its Sauvignon Blancs, the Adelaide Hills. Located in South Australia, just north of the McLaren Vale, the Adelaide Hills is a very sparsely planted region compared to Australia’s major regions. It is also right on the edge of the city of Adelaide, and so the region is being encroached upon by expanding suburbs. The region’s very high elevation and relative proximity to the ocean ensure a consistently cool and misty environment, which is fairly ideal for Pinot Noir, and also provides a stark contrast to nearby McLaren Vale, which is very dry and hot. The high altitude (400m above sea level) and very cool nights tends to produce wines with sharp acidity; but, I would add that in the right hands red wines from this region retain a freshness that eludes so many Australian wines, particularly those that we tend to find on our continent.

While Grosset is famous for its Clare Valley Rieslings, which are surely some of the best in Australia, this Pinot Noir is not made from estate fruit, but from fruit purchased from vineyards in the Adelaide Hills. That doesn’t seem to impact the quality of this wine negatively in any way however, and the master hand of Jeff Grosset is very evident here. Distinct in Australia, Jeff Grosset has always believed in making wines with a sense of place. While the rest of the industry was busy blending grapes from across the country to produce their innocuous shiraz and cabernet blends, Grosset remained true to his passion for producing ‘terroir’ driven wines that still spoke of Australia, but did so with more character than normal. I think it is thanks to people like Jeff Grosset that Australia has the stuffing to weather its current export crisis and reemerge as a region with distinct terroirs, passions, and diversity. When I attended a tasting of Victoria wines last year to help support victims of the bush fires, I experienced a plethora of cooler climate wines that were all doing different things and beating a completely different drum than what most people have come to associate with Australia. And, as I have discovered over the years, there are wines like this from all over Australia, if we are only lucky enough to find them, and have an importer choose to bring them on to this continent for us. We are on the cusp of a huge transformation in the Australian wine industry, and I think it will be for the better.

I wish I could have found some information on the site and soil conditions for this Pinot Noir, but alas could not. I would very much appreciate if anyone can leave some of this information in the comments as I (and I’m sure many readers) would love to know. The nose on this was spicy, earthy and leafy but with good richness and concentration to the cherry and strawberry fruit notes. In other words, the nose was classic richly styled Pinot Noir – but with grace. The palate had good fruit, but far less up front and concentrated than I was expecting. This allowed the other flavours to come through – earth, spice, and a tart crispness that kept this very fresh. I would actually never have guessed this was from Australia and personally found the wine to be absolutely outstanding – by far the best I’ve had from Aussie-land. I think the little bit of age on this bottle helped it to integrate and present itself perfectly when I opened it.

This wine starkly contrasts with my other favourite wine of this series – the Sojourn Pinot from Sonoma – instead focusing on fruit freshness, a clean palate, and bright robust spicyness. This is a true cool-climate New World Pinot Noir and is worth seeking out if you have the chance. I would not hesitate spending this much on the wine again.

Excellent

$70 at Marquis

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Winery Profile: Le Clos Jordanne

My relationship to Canadian wine is both similar and dissimilar to most Canadians. It is similar because I have great pride for my country, as many Canadians do. It is dissimilar because for me pride translates into expectations. I would like my country to be famous for more than just ice hockey and doughnuts, and I demand excellence from Canada because I know we can live up to that standard. When we don’t, I feel disappointed but I never give up my search for the exceptional. While sitting at a table surrounded by other Vancouver bloggers and social media types and five glasses of wine I discovered excellence in Canadian wine, for the first time. Le Clos Jordanne has, for me, broken the threshold of quality that I have been searching for in Canadian wine for years. And, I am proud that we finally managed to do it. That Le Clos Jordanne is from Ontario does not bug me as a recently minted BC resident. I think our regionalism detracts from our nation, and I think that we should all be proud of what Canadians are doing no matter where they are from.

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Le Clos Jordanne is a joint venture between Vincor and Domaine Boisset from Burgundy. The idea was to start a winery completely from scratch to capture the ‘terroir’ of a particular area of the Niagara Pininsula in Ontario around the village of Jordan. The Niagara Escarpment, on which the Niagara wine region of Ontario is located, has a limestone base deposited by the Glacier that carved out the Escarpment so many years ago. The Escarpment, combined with the cooling influence of Lake Ontario, provides the region with enough warm air to allow wine grapes to ripen properly, even given the extreme climate and, accordingly, frost and short growing season concerns.

Clos Jordanne 5Viticulture Manager Thomas Bachelder explained that the aim to produce wines with a sense of place was a decision to take the lessons of Burgundy seriously and to treat the terroir with respect rather than simply copying certain methods. Whereas California became giddy with malo-lactic fermentation and heavy French oak treatment despite the fact that their terroir was nothing like Mersault, Le Clos Jordanne aims to produce wines whose oak and fermentation process compliment the climate, soil, and growing conditions of the grapes. I think they have learned these lessons well (likely because Thomas spent time learning to make wine in Burgundy), and I am hugely impressed with the various wines’ ability to remain distinct from each other, despite very similar treatment in the cellar.

Recently in Montreal a group of wine experts set up a remake of the famous judgment of Paris tasting of 1976 that saw California wines beat French wines in a blind tasting. The idea was to pit France vs. America again, although this time with different wines. However, unbenknownst to the experts, a Le Clos Jordanne Claystone Chardonnay was snuck into the lineup and, amazingly, won top honours in the Chardonnay category. And, just so you have a sense which producers the wine was competing against, consider the likes of Jean-Claude Boisset, Joseph Drouhin, Mer Soleil, Sonoma-Cutrer, and Chateau Montelena, amongst others. These are serious competitors who are well respected and garner high scores from all sorts of media. As much as such tastings must be taken with a grain of salt, I think that this achievement is significant.

clos4So, with that in mind, let’s take a look at the wines. In a non-traditional move we were encouraged to begin with the Pinot Noirs before moving on to the Chardonnays. The first wine was the basic ‘village wine’  Village Reserve Pinot Noir 2006, which retails here in BC for $30. This was very forward and fruity, with a nose of spice, and medium bodied cherry. While simple, the palate is also really enjoyable with its dense but grippy medium body, hint of caramel and spice, and fantastic density and delineation. Very Good+.

I next moved on to one of the single vineyard offerings, the Claystone Pinot Noir 2006, retailing at $45. This was a big step up in terms of structure from the basic village wine. It had a softer, stonier nose, with a decidedly twiggy element. The palate was again soft, but also fruit driven and very elegant. Its grippy dry texture is austere but also draws into a lengthy and wonderful mineral finish. Very Good+ to Excellent.

The last red, the Grand Clos Pinot Noir 2006, was a selection of the best parts of the vineyards, and is a big very complex wine that is still very young. The nose had fantastic layering even as it was difficult to derive all the aromas just yet. Its red berry fruit was, as Thomas said, distinct from many New World Pinot Noirs, which often tend towards darker, richer fruits. The palate had a touch of grapefruit, some eucalyptus, and a spicy mid-palate. The great mid-palate structure will allow this to sit a while and develop more significant separation of all the complex layers. This is very likeable, but also reserved. Excelent. $70.

clos3And, now on to the whites, beginning with the Claystone Chardonnay 2006 (the winner of the Montreal tasting). These chardonnays are unlike anything else being done with the grape in Canada that I’ve tasted so far, and are certainly vastly superior to most every BC chardonnay I’ve tasted. In fact, these are almost dead ringers for very tasty Burgundy wines, even while still having a sense of place. Is it distinctly Ontarian? Well, that will probably take some time to tell, but this is a great start. The nose is rich and has pineapple, banana and licorice. But this is not a flabby or buttery chardonnay. No, this has great acidity, is very clean and highlights its citrus flavours while offering hints of opulence with its banana and caramel. The long, minerally finish brings the palate back down to earth and keeps the opulence in check. A very good chard. Very Good+.

The last wine, a Grand Clos Chardonnay 2006, was my wine of the tasting. It is still reserved and I can understand why some would prefer the Claystone right now, but for me this kind of chardonnay is what you would see in a young Premier or Grand Cru chablis – tightness, almost reticence, but with the promise of greatness. The palate doesn’t give a lot up yet, but is dense and very complex. The texture is rich and wonderful – very rounded and even more opulent than the Claystone – but the structure is outstanding. This is real chardonnay, built for food, and could one day rival an excellent wine from Burgundy. Excellent.

In conclusion, these are the first wines from Canada that I’ve given an excellent rating to, and they well deserved it. For me, they broke the quality threshold that I’ve been longing for all these years. My only hope is that as many of you as possible can get the chance to taste these. Right now they are in very limited supply (I believe some are at 39th and Cambie), but if you want to taste great Canadian wine, these are absolutely worth seeking out. Colour me extremely impressed.

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