TN: Dried grapes & rolled Deiss

Deiss 1998 Schoenenbourg (Alsace) – Very, very sweet, though there’s plenty of acid to support it, with a flowery mineral streak and not much else. Still as simple as it was in its youth. It’s a tasty simplicity, but it would be nice to see something else develop. Maybe in another decade or so? (6/06)

Deiss claims these blends (usually riesling, pinot gris, gewurztraminer and muscat, though I have no idea what’s actually in here…the riesling, at least, is obvious and dominant at the moment, and nothing else would be legal as this is a grand cru site) are a more traditional expression of Alsace’s great sites. The cynical might claim that they’re simply outrageously expensive edelzwicker (the catchall name for cheap versions of this same blend). The keys to such wines are twofold: express the site (which Diess does well, here…though more recent vintages have been increasingly obfuscated), and not let the two aromatically dominant grapes in that mix (gewurztraminer and muscat) obliterate all else. The latter is also a success in this wine. However, the amount of residual sugar is off-putting – this is a dessert wine in alternative clothing – and, as with so many of Deiss’ wines, the tertiary complexities that come with age just do not develop as often as they should. Even the most obtuse reader should conclude that I’m not exactly high on Deiss, and they’d be right, but for me it’s more of a disappointment than a simple dislike. Deiss – like Ostertag – is an obviously talented winemaker (here and there, a bottle succeeds to support this belief) who, in my opinion, has let his theories and his philosophies overwhelm his wines. And I’ve said it before: based on the evidence, I’m not at all sure that biodynamic viticulture achieves superior results in Alsace like it does in many other regions. I have no explanation for why that might be, and yet… Closure: cork. Biodynamic. Web: http://www.marceldeiss.com/.

Brigaldara 2000 Amarone della Valpolicella Classico (Veneto) – Sapid prune and dried fig with a soda-like texture. Softer than most Amarone, with a gentle yet persistent flavor that builds and recedes like lapping evening waves. Really lovely, though I suspect that many fans of Amarone are going to want “more” of everything, in which case they should avoid this wine. (6/06)

Amarone is, essentially, dried Valpolicella. It’s the same grapes (corvina, plus two others that don’t much matter and are often semi-legally ignored or modified by the best producers), dried over the winter and then pressed, producing a much drier water-to-solids ratio and a more concentrated, intense wine with the expected raisined characteristics (which in Amarone are usually expressed as prune and/or fig, as here). These days, it’s usually so big that it can only go with the most extravagantly aggressive cheeses (salty or blue), but more balanced versions are especially fine with richly-sauced roasts and game. Closure: cork.

TN: H, a, double-r, i... (California, pt. 3)

(The original version is here …)

23 April 2006 –Berkeley, California

Wine tasting in Berkeley (con’t)

Harrington Pinot Noir Rosé (appellation unknown) – “Just for fun” announces our pourer – I assume without evidence that he’s the Bryan that lends his last name to Harrington, the second winery at this tasting – and fun it is, with big, giggly strawberry fruit. It’s in an unlabeled bottle, and no information other than its cépage is forthcoming, but it’s a bit of a shame it’s not for sale. I’d buy it.

Harrington 2002 Pinot Noir (Russian River Valley) – Orange rind, red cherry and strawberry seeds; sweetly pretty, though simple.

Harrington 2003 Pinot Noir Birkmyer (Wild Horse Valley) – Sweet plum, strawberry and rhubarb with some structure and a long, metallic/iron flake finish. Nice acidity, too. This ends up being my favorite of the entire lineup.

Harrington 2003 Pinot Noir Hirsch (Sonoma Coast) – A rough nose, perhaps with slightly burnt notes, opens up to a somewhat hard, watermelon-shaped wine. I’d like more finish (and more attack, even in the lighter-entried pinot noir sense), and in general I’d like better fruit. I do note, however, than most of my fellow tasters seem to regard this wine as one of the best, so maybe I’ve misjudged it.

Harrington 2004 Pinot Noir Brosseau (Chalone) – Thick, meaty and heavy, showing chunky peanut butter and big tannin. A sticky wine, more akin to a paste than a pinot.

Harrington 2004 Pinot Noir (Russian River Valley) – Full-bodied cherry and blueberry with a long, juicy finish made ever so slightly edgy by a stemmy note. Almost really nice.

Harrington 2004 Pinot Noir Gap’s Crown (barrel sample) (Sonoma County) – From a decanter. There’s huge fruit here – blueberry and black cherry – with fair acidity; a “fruit bomb” with at least one redeeming quality. Moreover, it doesn’t taste particularly spoofulated, just explosive. People of a certain taste will love this, assuming it holds form through bottling.

TN: Original Oratoire

Château de Beaulieu 1999 Côtes du Marmandais “Cuvée de l’Oratoire” (Southwest) – Probably as mature as one would want it; the fruit, decaying but reddish and a little juicy, is still present, while the tannin is in an accelerated drying stage. I suspect it will be parched and difficult before the tertiary elements are fully developed. There’s plenty of well-baked clay here, but the ultimate impression of the wine is fairly rustic despite an overall smoothness to the texture. (6/06)

25% each of merlot, cabernet franc & cabernet sauvignon, 15% syrah and 10% malbec, from old vines, spending twelve months in oak (60% new). The Côtes du Marmandais are one of the many Bordeaux-like appellations around France’s most famous viticultural region (though obviously the syrah provides some differentiation), most of which remain almost completely undiscovered and thus an excellent source of often-striking values. Alcohol: 12.5%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.chateaudebeaulieu.net/.

TN: How dry is my gully? (New Zealand, pt. 26)

(The original version is here …)

Sergio Leone had it right. It’s OK to film a western in Europe, but you’ve gotta do it where the vineyards that otherwise blanket the Old World aren’t. After all, there’s not a whole lot of Scott Henry trellising in Wyoming…

Perhaps this is why one’s first view of Mt. Difficulty is so jarring. Windswept dust gales across rocky buttes and steppes, looking for all the world like something out of the Old West (and this is, among other things, gold country)…but there’s vines in them thar’ valleys. The partners behind this concern – local grape growers owning and operating a sort of high-end cooperative – probably should have constructed their tasting room out of adobe. Instead, the existing structure is a window-filled white apostrophe on the crest of a hill, encompassing a café and some outdoor tables…though today’s breeze is a little extreme for al fresco noshing.

It’s not yet lunchtime when we arrive, so the room is empty except for a few employees making last-minute preparations. There’s also not a whole lot of wine on offer – much is, apparently, sold out – but we taste what we can. (Later in the year, I’ll hear an amusing story about a couple attempting to corner the market on one of the winery’s flagship pinots; a gesture neither the storyteller nor I can quite understand).

Mt. Difficulty 2004 Sauvignon Blanc (Central Otago) – I am not, at least so far, an advocate of Central Otago sauvignon blanc. From an objective point of view, it seems pointless to introduce yet another sauvignon into a country littered with them, especially when one might fight an endlessly uphill battle against the superior name recognition of Marlborough. The price comparison isn’t too healthy, either. Organoleptically, there’s been little to convince me otherwise; I don’t know that one can’t properly ripen sauvignon in these climes, but certainly the evidence supporting the effort has been exceedingly thin on the ground. This wine sorta proves my point: it shoots past spicy and zippy into the realm of capsicum, showing chile and black pepper on the nose, palate and finish. There’s a bit of dry crispness, but ultimately this is all about underripeness and harsh pyrazines. It’s “interesting” from a certain point of view, but wouldn’t be much fun to drink. Maybe with salsa.

Mt. Difficulty 2004 Riesling Target Gully (Central Otago) – From a true gully vineyard closer to Felton Road than to our current position, this a sugar/acidity balancing act at 25 g/L residual sugar. It is quite sweet, though with ripe apple, lemon and a blend of steel and slate adding their complexities to the midpalate. It dries a bit (and shortens) on the finish, and while it’s quite fun, there’s a serious undercurrent to it that bodes well for the future. It’s not a great wine by any means, but it is a good one.

The woman manning the tasting room is a little on the lecturing side, though she seems wary and a bit chilly towards responsive questions. More enticing is the spittoon, which operates with a swirl of water identical to that in a dentist’s office. It’s very clever, and I briefly wonder why more wineries don’t make use of this nastiness-avoiding device.

Mt. Difficulty “Roaring Meg” 2002 Merlot (Central Otago) – I’m not entirely clear on the nomenclature here. A second label of some sort is the gist of it, I think…but as I’ve noted, the woman doing our pouring isn’t particularly responsive when moved off-script. In any case, the “Roaring Meg” name is ubiquitous in the region, variously referring to a “waterfall” (really more of a stretch of rapids) on the Kawarau River, a gold rush-era madam, and a popular Queenstown restaurant. In any case, take what I’ve written about sauvignon blanc in the Central Otago and repeat it here. Why is this a good idea? The wine itself is barely acceptable, showing chewy baked plum, brown sugar and drying tannin with a gummy pecan paste and peach stone finish. Boil it down, you’ve got a nice and not-too-sweet dessert topping.

Mt. Difficulty 2003 Pinot Noir (Central Otago) – A multi-vineyard blend, initially dominated by mercaptans but eventually presenting itself as strawberry, earthy walnut, and chunky black loam with some structure and more than a bit of youthful truculence. Long and interesting, but not for early drinking.

The wines here – at least, those that we’ve tasted – are fine, but could use more “oomph” across the range. Previous experiences with the upper-end pinots (though one presumes the Target Gully will now be hard to find) suggest that better work is possible, but even there Mt. Difficulty is a step behind its regional compatriots.

Tasting completed, we mount our horses and mosey on down the hillside. We reckon there’s vittles, yonder.

TN: The pale, pale wines of Rhône

Château de Bastet 2004 Côtes-du-Rhône “Les Acacias” (Rhône) – Flowering peach stickiness, with a fresh nut oil texture and a relatively short finish. White Côtes-du-Rhône is a bit of an acquired taste, but while this isn’t a particularly good value ($24 at a local store), it’s a nice wine for near-term drinking. (6/06)

Any number of grapes could be represented here, but the thing about nearly all of them is that they tend to pair a thick, almost chewy texture with acidity levels that are often perilously low. Unless one is attuned to the taste, whites from the Rhône Valley – and this applies to everything from the lowliest CdR blanc to the most lofty Condrieu or Hermitage blanc – can often be more of an exercise in intellectual than organoleptic enjoyment. I happen to have a taste for the wines, but (other than Condrieu) more so when they’re well-aged; a practice which I don’t believe will benefit this bottle (though I’ve been profoundly fooled by white Rhônes before). In any case, even though most would identify the texture as the problem (as I guess I do, above), it’s really not likely that it is; the most popular New World wines basically replicate this texture, albeit in a more manipulative way (malolactic fermentation, residual sugar, new oak, etc.) I think it’s the aromatic palette that confounds people…neither boisterous fruit nor transparent minerality are to be found here. Alcohol: 13%. Biodynamic. Closure: cork. Importer: Violette.

TN: Burnout

Chidaine “Collection” 2004 Touraine (Loire) – Wax and chalk dominated by a wet ash aroma that devalues everything around it. The wine is light, quiet, and gentle…but there’s that ash again on the finish. (6/06)

Wines labeled Touraine are a little surprising in that they’re almost always more significantly marked by their site than by their cépage. Most of them are sauvignon blanc (though other grapes are allowed), but somehow the soil turns this normally-vivacious grape into the first cousin…or perhaps bastard stepchild…of chenin blanc. It’s an interesting study in one component of terroir, and an indication of just how important soil can be. Alcohol: 12.5%. Biodynamic. Closure: molded synthetic. Importer: Ideal.

TN: Gotim Jack

Castell del Remei 2001 Costers del Segre “Gotim Bru” (Cataluñya) – Boring, straightforward red and black fruit with blasé, anonymous earth and moderately balanced wood. Textbook red wine…but who wants to drink a textbook? (6/06)

Tempranillo, merlot, cabernet sauvignon and grenache. This is as safe and solid as wines get, which probably explains why I’ve never felt anything but indifference towards it. Young, middle-aged, even older…it doesn’t seem to matter. So why do I keep buying it? See above, re: safe and solid. Some people crave those qualities. Closure: cork. Importer: Solomon/European Cellars. Web: http://www.castelldelremei.com/.

Troiani “Fontaleoni” 2004 Vernaccia di San Gimignano Vinga Casanuova (Tuscany) – Surprisingly intense green fruit and lightly grassy notes with a touch of briny adhesion. It’s a touch awkward without food, but shines with it, showing a certain strength and fortitude (along with a decent wallop of well-integrated acid). (6/06)

Vernaccia is yet another of those Italian white grapes that seems to be slowly fading into obscurity. A lot of mediocre product is certainly one reason, and a (mistaken) worldwide impression that it’s all mediocre is another. But while it’s true that, in comparison to the great white grapes like riesling and chenin blanc, only isolated pockets of Italy offer whites on par with or surpassing its reds in a worldwide context, what this misses is a veritable ocean of tasty, well-made, and (most importantly) unique white wines of quality and character. It would be a real shame to see all these wines disappear in favor of an entire planet planted to chardonnay. As for Fontaleoni, it’s quite the operation: restaurant, wine bar, rooms for rent…and, oh yes, a winery. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.fontaleoni.com/.

Trimbach 2001 Gewurztraminer (Alsace) – A little more advanced than I might have expected, showing a metallic edge greased with bacon fat and slightly pongy cashew oil. Lychee and peach are, here, only a distant memory, though the expected well-aged jerky aromas have not yet emerged. It’s got pretty good acid, but seems just the slightest bit out of balance at the moment. Perhaps a few more years in the cellar will bring it around. (6/06)

If gewurztraminer by itself wasn’t controversial enough, aged gewurztraminer ramps up the level of dispute. All the things that make gewurztraminer gewurzy come screaming to the fore when the wine’s got some years behind it. And here’s where the modern fetish for residual sugar rears its ugly head: truly sweet gewürztraminers age beautifully, as to bone-dry versions, but the too-ripe off-dry versions living in the vast in-between do a lot less well; the sugar never actually integrates, leaving a sort of unpleasant sweet bacon taste, not entirely unlike a plate of American breakfast food wherein the maple syrup has gotten all over the last few pieces of bacon. Closure: cork. Importer: Diageo. Web: http://www.maison-trimbach.fr/.

Domaine du Poujol 2002 Vin de Pays de Val de Montferrand “Proteus” (Languedoc) – A rustic paysan prettied up by some nice clothes…not a fancy designer suit, just a shirt and pants well-pressed with clean shoes and maybe even a new blade on the razor. There’s frothy, roasted red fruit and sun-baked earth here…a little hint of horse lingers in the background…with good, light-bodied structure barely supporting a medium-bodied wine of some estimable qualities. (6/06)

90% merlot, 5% cinsaut and 5% grenache; this is an unusually high percentage of merlot, and caused the wine to be “declassified” (a poor choice of word) from its usual Vin de Pays de l’Herault appellation…probably for reasons of varietal typicity, but I’m just guessing here. This is intended to be an early-drinking wine, but according to the domaine their viticultural practices are hefting this thing up year by year, so don’t be surprised if it ages for a few years…or a few years more. Closure: cork. Importer: Kermit Lynch. Web: http://www.domainedupoujol.com/.

Kenwood 2004 Zinfandel Jack London (Sonoma Valley) – Spicy oak with waves of charred, chocolate oak and a finish of cinnamon and clove oak. (6/06)

In other words: no good. Web: http://www.kenwoodvineyards.com/.

Sobon Estate 2004 Zinfandel “Hillside” (Amador County) – Big, brambly, fiery Amador zin, just the way it’s supposed to be. Sure, it’s a little tarted up (by chocolaty oak? it seems so, but I wouldn’t bet the farm on it) and probably a bit more alcoholic than it needs to be, but typicity will usually out. Doofus wine, but eminently gluggable and fun. (6/06)

There’s a little bit of blending going on here (grenache and syrah), which is normal and historically correct for zinfandel. Alcohol: 14.6%. Organic grapes. Closure: screwcap. Web: http://www.sobonwine.com/.

TN: Summer Saumur

Filliatreau 2005 Saumur (Loire) – Black earth with leafy/grassy notes, some rosemary, and a rather surprisingly intense core of dark purple plumminess. Delicious and nicely balanced, but heftier than the typical Saumur. (6/06)

100% cabernet franc. Saumur, in the typical French conception, is a light, crisp wine full of herbed berries and mostly served chilled and en pichet in hundreds of Parisian bistros. This wine can certainly be served in a pitcher, but it’s far too deep and flavorful to be served chilled. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: extruded synthetic. Importer: Louis/Dressner/LDM. Web: http://www.filliatreau.fr/.

TN: Two dinners, four terrific wines

Trimbach 2000 Pinot Gris “Réserve Personelle” (Alsace) – Steely to the point of severity, but with enough silky pear essence to entice the taster back into its iron grid work. Long, fabulously structured, and as close to dry as one could want. Stunning, even in its infancy. (6/06)

Lapierre 2004 Morgon (Beaujolais) – Dark, brooding blackberry and boysenberry with good acidity and a biting edge of tannin. This wine scowls and glowers, but in the end is just too well-constructed to keep the inquisitive taster at bay. (For the averse: there is a very, very slightly funky note in the background, but nothing intrusive.) (6/06)

Charles Koehly 2004 Riesling St-Hippolyte (Alsace) – Restrained and almost rigid, with dried white flower petals flaked and dusted into a chilly evening breeze. Indisputably dry, with a medium length finish and the ability to raise its volume in the presence of food. Quite nice. (6/06)

Nalle 1995 Zinfandel (Dry Creek Valley) – Gorgeous waves of ancient spice and well-baked berries, laying bare a core of rich, loamy earth and a delicate, almost feminine (for zin) structure. Gorgeous and fully mature. (6/06)

TN: Jeune “Château Valcombe” 2005 Côtes du Ventoux “Signature”

Jeune “Château Valcombe” 2005 Côtes du Ventoux “Signature” (Provence) – Tight and gravelly at first, showing thinner than one would like. With air, intense raspberry juice coalesces and expands to bury all else. A nice rosé, but it needs a certain amount of coaxing. (6/06)

Made by Paul Jeune, who also makes the Domaine de Montpertuis wines in Châteauneuf-du-Pâpe. Though I don’t know the precise cépage, it’s likely to be mostly grenache, with a little carignan, syrah and cinsault. These Provençal rosés often fail for a surplus of alcohol, but that’s not a problem here. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: composite cork. Importer: Rosenthal.

TN: Gardens & grigios (San Francisco, pt. 2)

23 April 2006 – San Francisco & Berkeley, California

Lichee Garden (1416 Powell) – A person could spend years touring the dim sum options in San Francisco (not to mention elsewhere in the Bay Area). It’s not generally thought that the best are in or near Chinatown, but for various logistical reasons we need to find one in that area, and thus after some research we find ourselves meeting out-of-town friends here. It’s quite good, with vivid flavors in the best dishes and inexplicably absent flavors in the worst (fish- and starch-based items seem to be the best, meat the most inconsistent), and seems to be primarily populated by locals. And, of course, it’s stupidly cheap…$12.50 per person, 17 “courses” later.

Wine tasting in Berkeley – Steve Edmunds is having a little inventory blowout, and with a few other wineries hawking their wares and my wife busy at a conference, it seems silly to not go. The room is small and dark, but there’s light (and food) in a sort of courtyard, and the operation – which involves both tasting and selling – is relatively efficient. What I really notice, however, is that despite our being in a relatively unassuming location, far from anything else commercial, there’s a steady inflow of consumers – even passersby – on an otherwise restful Sunday. Only in California…

Edmunds St. John 2002 Pinot Grigio Witters (El Dorado County) – Juicy pear skins and dried leaves. Just barely rises to the level of “eh.”

Edmunds St. John 2003 Pinot Grigio Witters (El Dorado County) – An improvement, especially as the flavors drift over to the red side of things (for dark-skinned pinot gris, I think this is a highly positive quality), showing strawberry and rhubarb. It’s fuller-bodied than the ’02, but it also has an odd, out-of-place feel to it.

I admit that I’ve never been much of a fan of Steve’s pinot grigios (I’ve decided that my long-time affection for the Alsatian expression of this grape must have something to do with it), and these wines do nothing to change my mind. He claims his 2004 is better, but I’ve tasted it and can’t share his enthusiasm. Well, tastes differ…

Edmunds St. John 2001 “Los Robles Viejos” (White) Rozet (Paso Robles) – Fat and fruity, like thick peach soda. There’s also pear, grapefruit rind, and a long, sticky finish. This is just a bit on the goopy side at the moment, and I think it was better a few years ago.

Edmunds St. John 2002 “blonk!” (Paso Robles) – Balanced and pretty, with richly-spiced nuts (mostly cashews) and a lovely finish. This is one of the wines I take home with me…

Edmunds St. John 2003 “Los Robles Viejos” (White) Rozet (Paso Robles) – …and if I didn’t already own a whole bunch of this, here would be another. Peach flowers in a thick brew, with a slight bitterness that adds to the complexity and helps prevent it from being as sticky as its older brethren. The finish is long and broad, and there’s clear potential for development.

Edmunds St. John 2003 Viognier (Paso Robles) – Everything you want in a viognier: flowers, apricots, peaches, and a silky texture. Heavier vs. most quality Condrieu, but then that’s to be expected from Paso. This, too, hits the shopping cart.

Edmunds St. John 1999 Sangiovese Matagrano (El Dorado County) – I’ve always felt about this wine the way I feel about ESJ’s pinot grigio: indifferent at best. But today, I’m forced to drink my words. Spicy, black pepper-encrusted strawberry and bitter walnut skin with some tannin and biting (but not overdone) acid. In other words, the ultra-rare California sangiovese that tastes like a sangiovese. It’s still a little on the extreme side, but this has finally come around, and I can’t resist a few bottles.

Edmunds St. John 2001 Zinfandel Peay (Sonoma Coast) – 15.2% alcohol, though there’s reason to believe it’s a bit higher than that. In any case, it doesn’t really taste more than a little bit hot. What we’ve got here is actually zin done in an older, almost bygone style, with concentrated wild berries, tannin and acid to spare, and a peppery finish. The heat expresses itself with a little herbality, a bit like juniper (or, I guess, gin). Steve hears our discussion, notes that this bottle was opened yesterday, and uncorks another.

Edmunds St. John 2001 Zinfandel Peay (Sonoma Coast) – Bigger, juicier and fruitier than the aerated version, with spicy berries dominating and the structure retreating a bit in the face of the “zinberry” assault. Yet another wine to purchase.

(For updated and more detailed takes on a few of these wines, take a look here.)

TN: Dancing with corks

Heinrich 2001 Blaufränkisch (Burgenland) – Dark violet aromatics, decayed leaves and slightly bitter plum coalesce around a hard, somewhat sharp core. This still has some of the fantastic nose of its youth, but the fruit has started to decay in deference to the structure, and it was unquestionably better in its youth. It’s film noir on a scratchy, brittle old print. (6/06)

Blaufränkisch isn’t a grape that gets much international respect – though the same could be said for most Austrian reds – because it’s neither overly fruity nor generous and mouth-filling in its natural state. These things can be induced, of course, but the real pleasures of the grape are similar to those of nebbiolo: beautifully seductive aromas somewhat at war with an occasionally razor-like structure, though here the effect is rather lighter-bodied (and in this way, more like pinot noir, or possibly gamay). All this varietally comparative confusion aside, it’s a grape that can be too crisp and too light, but when it’s good – as this one is – it’s quite enticing. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Vin Divino. Web: http://www.heinrich.at/.

Hartley Ostini “Hitching Post” 2004 Pinot Noir “Cork Dancer 4.2” (Santa Barbara County) – Lovely, balanced, and pure, with succulent red berries in light array and lithe, dancing structural elements over a soft foundation of rich earth. There’s just enough tannin and just enough acidity to make this feel ageable, though frankly it will be hard to resist its youthful charms. (6/06)

It used to be that the words “Hitching Post” meant a restaurant only to a concentrated group of locals and the tourists who intermingled with them. Sideways changed all that, rendering the restaurant rather famous and pushing the wines into the background; it’s not uncommon for me to hear “oh, they make wine there?” (I guess they didn’t pay close enough attention to the movie, in which the wines are explicitly mentioned on more than one occasion.) But for me, Hartley Ostini has long made fine pinot noir in a non-intoxicatingly lighter style vs. others in their area; wines to drink rather than taste, wines that seduce rather than solicit. Which – before some angry Central Coast winemaker gets on my case – is not to say that the alternative styles are bad, or “slutty,” or whatever it is I’m allegedly implying in the previous sentence. (Oh, whatever. It’s just a turn of phrase. Lighten up!) Alcohol: 14.5%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.hitchingpost2.com/HPWinery.html.

ca’Rugate 2002 Recioto di Soave “La Perlara” (Veneto) – Stunning. Heavily-spiced white fruit with preserved lemon and an utterly flawless, bright and crisp structure for balance. The finish lingers with perfect poise, and unlike many dessert wines you’ll find yourself going back for glass after glass. Or maybe that’s just me. (6/06)

100% garganega, dried for about six months to concentrate both the sugars and the flavors, and then vinified. A good recioto di Soave is one of the most enticing dessert wines in the world, for it achieves Sauternes-like levels of spice (often with less reliance on oak, though wood is certainly not unknown in high-end Soave), but frequently with better acid. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Ideal. Web: http://www.carugate.it/.

TN: Bugey to Barossa (via Veneto)

Renardat-Fache Bugey Cerdon (Ain) – Spritzy and more mineral-driven than usual (mostly chalk, perhaps a bit of gravel), with less exuberant strawberry and a dry, papery finish. I wonder if this bottle might be ever so slightly off. Bad cork? (6/06)

Gamay and poulsard (at least theoretically; there were two different cuvées of the previous release and if that’s the case here, then this could possibly be 100% gamay), naturally sparkling, etc., etc. I think this might be one of the more notated wines on the various wine non-mainstream fora, and what was said at the beginning still holds true to this day: soda pop for adults. Alcohol: 7.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner/LDM.

Zenato 2002 Valpolicella Superiore (Veneto) – Restrained, violet-tinged rhubarb and olive with bitter strawberry and a fine dusting of drying tannin. There are good elements here, but there seems to be some sort of internal struggle going on with this wine, for they emerge and retreat seemingly at random. A little overworked in the cellar, I think, and it fades a bit with food, but it’s decent enough as a slightly angry cocktail wine. (6/06)

80% corvina, 10% rondinella, 10% sangiovese. While this isn’t done in the popular ripasso style, with all the jammy, prune-like fruit that the technique portends, neither is it done in the traditional, high-acid, best-served chilled style that has almost completely disappeared as a wine for export to the States. It tries to find a middle ground, but in the process I think it loses some of what makes Valpolicella interesting. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Locascio/Winebow. Web: http://www.zenato.it/.

Torbreck 2003 “Cuvée Juveniles” (Barossa Valley) – Big, full-bodied, and strongly-flavored, with dark plum and charred blackberry larded with double-smoked bacon. The fruit is on full display here, and while it’s a little ponderous without strongly-flavored food as a foil, it’s pretty difficult to dislike the high-decibel enthusiasm of this thermonuclear fruit device. (6/06)

60% grenache, 20% shiraz (syrah), 20% mataro (mourvèdre), done in a style that’s both accessible and…according to the winemaker…ageable. I wonder if there’s sufficient structure to support long-term aging (and even if there is, whether the lack of acid will result in this wine asymptotically turning to dark soy, as many older Barossa wines do), but there’s certainly no lack of concentration. Alcohol: 14%. Closure: screwcap. Importer: Australian Wine Collection. Web: http://www.torbreck.com/.

TN: Less is Morocco (San Francisco, pt. 1)

(The original version, with more photos and less margin-squishing, is here …)

22 April 2006 – San Francisco, California

Aziza – This Richmond District Moroccan is always a lot of fun. We’d resolved to come back after our somewhat disastrous last experience…which wasn’t the fault of the restaurant, but rather of some sort of epic road rage incident on Geary Avenue that resulted in our dining companions’ new BMW being totaled while we noshed on lamb shanks.

Determined to do better, we arrive to a cheery staff who immediately appears to recognize us. Whether or not we’re unusually memorable, I can’t say, but it’s soon obvious that they all recall last year’s incident. The restaurant is packed and noisy (it is, after all, a Saturday night), but we’re put in as remote a corner as can be had, and this helps quiet the din somewhat. Food highlights include pistachio-encrusted goat cheese on a tomato/citrus jam with zaatar croutons, seafood phyllo triangles delicately laced with saffron, and a selection of wild mushroom with Manouri cheese (also on phyllo), but the star of the evening is presented as a special: a carrot soup with an utterly seductive mélange of spices and a flawlessly silky texture. After that exciting array of appetizers, the main courses are a bit less exciting, no thanks to a somewhat bland vegetarian couscous with tragically mild harissa. A terrific black cod claypot dish and a bit of the signature basteeya improve matters once more, to the point where we are simply incapable of eating another bite.

Inevitably, they bring us a selection of (comped) desserts: a piercing rhubarb tart, a strangely prosaic chocolate concoction that draws initial indifference but improves with each bite, and a fascinating reinvention of pistachios.

As for wine, I’m eager to sample from the always-enticing list, but our companions have brought their own, and who am I to look a gift bottle in the mouth?

Deiss 1998 Muscat d’Alsace Bergheim (Alsace) – Balanced and integrated floral aromatics (mostly orange blossoms) with great weight and concentration. Eventually one starts to tire of the aforementioned weight (it’s a bit fat on the finish), but this wine has aged nicely. It’s nice to know Deiss is still capable of making good wine.

Schaefer 1999 Graacher Domprobst Riesling Spätlese 17 00 (Mosel-Saar-Ruwer) – Quite sweet and possessing the texture of liquid glass, with ripe, sweet crabapple and a long, vivid finish. Glows with power, but it’s still fundamentally primary. Let it rest.

I top this off with a glass of the always-reliable Macallan 18 Year Scotch Whisky (a near-perfect blend of primary and oak-derived aromatics), while our dining companions introduce me to yet another take on anise liqueur, Lebanon’s arak (producer unknown), which has more bite and verve – albeit more rusticity and burn – than most of these beverages do. Fun stuff.

TN: Three from ESJ

Edmunds St. John 2003 Viognier Rozet (Paso Robles) – This has taken on deeper, earthier, more coppered (or perhaps bronzed) characteristics with a little extra age; almost, but not quite, a sort of fetid fruit “funk” to go with the well-oiled flowerbed that is viognier. I think it’s drinking marvelously well, but it’s probably a little bit controversial at this stage, and the timid might want to approach gingerly. (Speaking of which: there’s just a hint of ginger in there. Coincidence?) (6/06)

I’m occasionally asked, “what do you think is the most overrated grape out there?” (Actually, people usually say “overrated varietal,” but we’ll forgive them the grammatical error for the time being.) A semi-professional cynic, I’m frequently moved to be snarky and answer “chardonnay” (or “merlot”, or perhaps “cabernet sauvignon”). A bit of actual thought sometimes leads to sangiovese, based on the devolving mess that is Tuscany. But truth be told, I think the answer has to be viognier. In its “qualitative home” of Condrieu, a relatively small number of wineries made decidedly overpriced wine that is almost inevitably both too alcoholic and lacking in acidity. Elsewhere, things get even heavier and less interesting, and the ugly specter of new wood too often raises its vanilla-infused head (in Condrieu too, these days). It would be easy to completely dismiss the grape, except that when it is good, it’s so deliciously individualistic – fragrant, summery, silky and seductive – that hope is, at least in part, restored. In the U.S., however, I have to say that pretty much all of it sucks. A producer here, a producer there…really no different than in Condrieu, to be honest…but most of it is just not worth drinking, unless motor oil blanc is your thing. Based on recent efforts, however, I think Steve Edmunds is getting a handle on this grape, which he more typically uses in Rhône-style blends. The results, from a winery who most definitely does not overprice its wines, should be interesting if they continue. Alcohol: 13.9%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.edmundsstjohn.com/.

Edmunds St. John 2001 Zinfandel Peay (Sonoma Coast) – Aggressive, with delicious blueberry and olallieberry marmalade fruit zested by crisp acidity and that very slightly spirituous midtone that is so often present in high-octane zin. But there’s chunky, graphite-infused earth as well, and a nice, balanced finish that shows less heat than the initial palate impression promises. A very good wine, made in a more classic style, and rounding into some tertiary characteristics that really improve it. (6/06)

The story of the making of this wine is rather entertaining, and illustrates some of the problems that non-industrial winemakers (those who don’t work via recipe) face on a yearly basis. I have no idea if the 9% syrah (added not for its syrah character, but to re-energize the fermentation) or the two years it took to finish said fermentation made this wine into something it might not otherwise have been…though it seems likely…but the end result is so definitively zinnish that it hardly matters. I’ve often read that many historic zins were actually field blends of semi-mysterious composition, so maybe as a mutt rather than a purebred this represents something more authentically, historically Californian than all the carefully-managed single-site zinfandels of today. And then again, maybe I’m overanalyzing this, and should just shut up and drink the wine. Alcohol: 15.2%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.edmundsstjohn.com/.

Edmunds St. John 2001 Syrah (California) – Leathery, smoky and a little sweaty, with old blueberry and decidedly carnivorous characteristics thickly coated by layers of tannin and dried fruit residue. The finish is a little brighter – raspberries, mostly – but then heavies up again…and lingers, and lingers, and lingers. For the sub-$20 price, this has always been, is, and probably will be for some time a spectacular value, showing more character than scores of California syrahs at three times the price. (6/06)

A multi-site blend, usually from lots and sub-lots that don’t make the single-site bottlings, but while it doesn’t speak of place that much (it seems a little confused if it’s from California or the sun-drenched hills of southern France), it most certainly speaks of a recognizably Old World expression of varietal character, but with the elevated fruit of a New World wine. Alcohol: 14.1%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.edmundsstjohn.com/.

TN: Two with screw & Kanu too (plus, Easton)

Kanu 2004 Chenin Blanc (Stellenbosch) – Softly enticing, with hints of chalk dusting subdued pineapple, apricot and Meyer lemon flavors. A lovely, simple summer sipper. Just a bit off-dry, but it comes off as more of a softening element, rather than actual sweetness. (6/06)

This is the point where wine writers inevitably say something like “chenin blanc is traditionally known as ‘steen’ in South Africa.” Well, it’s not untrue, but in reality almost no one actually calls it that anymore. Why do we keep repeating this cliché? Inertia, most likely. Anyway, there’s a teensy bit of chardonnay in this wine, but not enough to notice. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Cape Classics. Web: http://www.kanu.co.za/.

Easton 2004 Zinfandel (Amador County) – A hefty lumberjack of a wine (not to suggest overwooding, though wood is definitely present), showing thick and somewhat feral dark fruit lightened by sticky red cherries and then counter-weighted with a dense, intensely “winy” texture. Nice, and a good value, but not for the faint of heart. (6/06)

Winemaker Bill Easton is a great guy, I’ve played golf with him, and I like both him and his wines a lot…but when he calls this “cru Beaujolais-styled” (as he does on his web site), I have to wonder if he’s been in Amador – where the wines are men and the sheep are nervous – a little too long. Beaujolais on anabolic steroids, human growth hormone, and a ten year weight training regimen, maybe. In any case, this retains classic wild-vine Amador character without the rough edges exhibited by so many other wineries in the region; the tradeoffs are a little less fiery exuberance and a little more slickness, but that’s a fair price to pay. Alcohol: 14.5%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.terrerougewines.com/.

Tohu 2004 Sauvignon Blanc (Marlborough) – Second note, same as the first. (Does anyone remember Herman’s Hermits?) (6/06)

Ditto the write-up. This is a remarkably consistent wine. The screwcap undoubtedly helps that: a reliable wine presented exactly the way the winemaker intended, without all the inevitable cork-induced variability. Alcohol: 13%. Closure: screwcap. Importer: Davies & Co. Web: http://www.tohuwines.co.nz/.

Bonny Doon “Ca’ del Solo” 2003 “Big House Red” (California) – And again with the reliability. This is a good wine that’s just not worth extensive re-notation, especially when all the notes start to read the same. (6/06)

This would make a good “house wine,” especially for the budget-conscious, but one of its strengths is that it’s just a little bit better than that. Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: screwcap. Web: http://www.bonnydoonvineyard.com/.

TN: Variety is the spice of arneis

Valdinera 2004 Roero Arneis (Piedmont) – Like especially vivid seltzer, this grabs one’s attention not with weight or concentration, but with a vivacious, dancing palate presence. But other than some light floral and citrus aromas, there’s not a whole lot of tactile substance here, rendering the wine more exciting than satisfying. It’s refreshing enough with restrained cuisine…but just don’t expect too much, otherwise. (6/06)

There’s just not much arneis on wine shelves in the States (usually one sees Giacosa or Vietti), so a new label is often welcome. This shouldn’t be a surprise, since the grape almost died out a few decades ago (and, admittedly, probably fell victim to the international misconception that all Italian white wines are identically thin and uninteresting). Its resurrection is a good thing, as even in thinner conceptions (as here), it offers an aromatic presence unlike most other whites. The aforementioned producers do a denser, heavier version of the grape, if that’s your thing, and remain acceptably-priced (not, unfortunately, inexpensively-priced anymore). Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: John Given. Web: http://www.valdinera.com/.

Ernest/JF Burn 2002 Pinot Blanc (Alsace) – Sweet, spiced pear and a thick, crystalline liquid syrup structure. If you think that sounds like a dessert wine, you’re not wrong; while there’s some acidity here, the wine’s just too sweet to be served with most food. Drink it as a refreshing summer dessert, or drink it as an apéritif (that’s what the French tend to do with sweet wines anyway, so you can feel all multicultural while you do it), but be very careful about serving it with savory food. (6/06)

Burn’s a domaine I used to love, especially for their Clos St-Imer bottlings (the “La Chapelle” bottlings, allegedly superior, were often a bit too out of balance towards the sugary side), but things have gotten completely out of control there in recent years. I’m not sure if it’s the high ratings from sugar-loving critics, or global warming, or what, but when a even a basic pinot blanc become a dessert wine, something’s askew. And, of course, there’s no exterior indication on the label that this is the case, something that’s endemic to Alsace (though recent legislation will allow a change, if producers other than Zind-Humbrecht are willing to make the effort to inform their customers about the amount of residual sugar in their wines). Alcohol: 12.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Arborway.

Château Lavergne-Dulong 2003 Bordeaux Supérieur (Bordeaux) – Dense, forward blackberry and black cherry with the suggestion of cassis and some ripe, velvety tannin. Eminently drinkable and quite tasty, albeit highly suggestive of a New World style. (6/06)

50% cabernet sauvignon, 20% merlot, 10% cabernet franc. Dulong is a négociant, and a big one, and this fits into what seems like a vast ocean of labels (check out their web site and marvel at the portfolio). Obviously, then, this isn’t artisanal winemaking at it most hands-on. What it is, however, is a poster child for the benefits and ills of modernized, international-style winemaking. 2003’s heat wave helps in this regard, of course, but this is a wine with a striking amount of fruit and a particularly soft, approachable texture; everything one might want from inexpensive Bordeaux (which is far too often over-structured and under-fruited), right? Well, opinions differ. I poured this blind for a wine-loving French friend, who pronounced it “too heavy for the food” (we were having aggressive cheeses at the time) and was flabbergasted that it was a Bordeaux. While I didn’t necessarily agree with him on its proportional weight (no doubt because I’m more accustomed to riper, bigger New World wines than he is), I did agree on one key point: there’s very little here to suggest that the wine is from Bordeaux. Of all the potential sins of the internationalized wine style, this is the biggest: the muting or even obliteration of regional or varietal typicity. None of which is to say that the result is a “bad wine” – rather, it’s quite a good wine for the price – but that it very well might be “bad Bordeaux.” To some people, that matters. Alcohol: 12.5%. Closure: cork. Importer: Dulong/Elite. Web: http://www.dulong.com/.

Dining: Sonsie (Boston, MA)

When Sonsie first opened many years ago, it was greeted with howls of derision. “Pretentious!” screamed the naysayers, partly for its open-to-Newbury-St. front (perfect for checking out the competition on this most luxe of Boston’s pedestrian boulevards), and partly because it was, in fact, presenting itself with a carefully studied sense of elevated hipness.

These days, those cries seem a distant memory. Yes, the open front is a little showy, but then again it’s the modus operandi for any European café; why can’t a restaurant do the same thing? And second, two things that have always been fairly constant at Sonsie are solid food and an often very clever wine list. Though a caveat: at Sonsie, the best thing has always been and probably will always be the thin-crust pizza. The more adventurous one asks the kitchen to become, the greater risk of failure, though there are successes as well. Service is solid (and attractive, as one would expect), and if the front-facing tables aren’t an option, the interior remains dark, comforting and even a little bit romantic…post-collegiate romantic, yes, but then that’s the restaurant’s key demographic.

There’s also a private room downstairs…again, no surprise…but since one of my friends had what turned out to be a fairly unpleasant experience down there (he asked, she said “no”…nothing that was the restaurant’s fault), it’s hard for me to judge it objectively.

(Based on multiple visits since the restaurant’s opening, the most recent in June of 2006.)

TN: Not from Vermont (at last!)

Donaldson Family “Main Divide” 2002 Sauvignon Blanc (Marlborough/Canterbury) – Zingy and forward, as this wine always is, with vivacious gooseberry and lime juice bouyed by playful acidity. Four years on, the structure and the fruit are slightly less well-integrated than they were, but this is still better than almost all the industrial-quantity New Zealand sauvignon blanc that litters store shelves. (6/06)

I’ve written about this wine before, so there’s no need to repeat myself here. Alcohol: 13%. Closure: cork. Importer: Meadowbank Estates/Empson. Web: http://www.maindivide.com/.

Trimbach 2001 Pinot Gris “Réserve” Ribeauvillé (Alsace) – Acrid pear and grapefruit soda keep themselves at a distance from the drinker, as if to withhold their apparent lushness until some sort of test is passed. In other words, this is showing signs of being a bit closed. It should come out the other side in a few years, at which point both the weight and the fat will re-emerge. (6/06)

I’ve always eschewed the “Ribeauvillé” designation on this wine, for no good reason. All the grapes are from within those vineyards allotted to the town of Ribeauvillé, and as this sort of village labeling is a regular practice in Alsace, there’s no reason for me to keep excluding it. I notice, though, that Trimbach de-emphasizes the appellation by using a font color very similar to the background. A little strange, perhaps, but then Trimbach has always been a brand-forward estate. Alcohol: 14%. Closure: cork. Importer: Diageo. Web: http://www.maison-trimbach.fr/.

Torbreck 2003 “Cuvée Juveniles” (Barossa Valley) – Full-bodied dark berries, but instead of leaden and concentrated (though the wine doesn’t lack for weight), they’re juicy and lip-smacking, with broad-shouldered complexities and a minimal amount of structure. A nice wine. (6/06)

60% grenache, 20% shiraz (syrah), 20% mataro (mourvèdre). The name does not, as one might assume, refer to a young-vines cuvée, but instead to Juveniles wine bar in Paris, whose owner suggested this particular style: old vines & unoaked. I’ve often been indifferent (and occasionally hostile) to the wines of Torbreck, while like-minded palates have insisted that I’m missing something I’d like. This is the first indication I’ve had that they might have been on to something. Alcohol: 14.5%. Closure: screwcap. Importer: Australian Wine Collection. Web: http://www.torbreck.com/.

Tohu 2004 Sauvignon Blanc (Marlborough) – Intense, almost overwhelming ripe gooseberry with a fuzzy, alcohol-induced haze. The flavor is undeniable, and there’s nothing “wrong” with the wine, but I wonder if a little restraint might not improve matters. (6/06)

Made by and for Maori interests in New Zealand, Tohu has cultural baggage that hangs on its success or failure in the marketplace; failure here would be more damaging than with most wineries. That it has heretofore matched decent commercial expectations is noteworthy, but other than the prestige “Mugwi” sauvignon blanc, not much has been done to push the winery away from the crowded low-price realm in which it resides. In my opinion, it’s time to do so. Keep the low-cost, accessible wines, but let’s see more of an adventurous spirit to move the wines onward and upward. Alcohol: 13%. Closure: screwcap. Importer: Davies & Co. Web: http://www.tohuwines.co.nz/.

Ollivier “La Pépière” 2004 Muscadet Sèvre & Maine “Moulin de la Gustaie” “Sur Lie” (Loire) – Crisp but generous (for Muscadet, that is), with fruit skins and flaky, sea-battered minerals scattered on some sort of moonscape. Utterly delicious. (6/06)

Marc Ollivier’s stupendous Muscadets are standard-bearers for what the region can accomplish with the right vines and dedication, and are incredible values as well (though objectively, it’s a shame that such good work can’t lead to greater financial rewards). However, what’s more interesting to me are the striking differences between his cuvées: the regular, the Eden, the shockingly good Clos des Briords, and this one. There’s terroir, there’s vine age, there’s a little bit of style, but all are distinctly different while remaining distinctly Muscadet. That’s terroir for you, right there. Alcohol: 12%. Closure: cork. Importer: Louis/Dressner/LDM.

Bonny Doon “Ca’ del Solo” 2003 “Big House Red” (California) – Fun, fruity, pleasantly acidic. Red. That’s about the it. (6/06)

Seriously, what more do you want? Cheap, fun wine. Stop thinking about it and just drink it! Alcohol: 13.5%. Closure: screwcap. Web: http://www.bonnydoonvineyard.com/.

TN: Acid plain (New Zealand, pt. 25)

(The original version, with more photos and a slightly cleaner look, is here …)

Sculpture both classy and kitschy frames the driveway to Olssens, a winery situated on the flatter plain just below Felton Road, with vineyards covering that plain and the gentle slopes that abut it. Some of the figures are delightfully breezy, while others brood in dour darkness…

…though none are as dour as the woman behind the counter of a pretty but cluttered tasting room. She glowers sourly at us, barely registering a few grunts in response to our request to taste some wine. I quickly reassess my intention to ask some probing questions, and instead dive right into the tasting.

Olssens 2004 Riesling (Central Otago) – Clean and crisp, showing pure green apple fruit juice with growing acidity on the finish. Tart, limey and fresh on the palate, this is a perfectly nice wine, but may in fact be a bit too acidic to accommodate aging.

Olssens 2001 “Barrel Fermented” Chardonnay (Central Otago) – “100% malolactic fermentation, 70% new oak.” I’m so startled by the words I almost drop my glass; it’s our pourer, still unyieldingly sullen but at least proving herself capable of speech. I nod, taste: dates and sweet orange with a strong caramel component and a short, somewhat harsh finish. This is maturing quickly.

Olssens 2003 Gewürztraminer (Central Otago) – She speaks again: “3 grams per liter residual sugar.” Simple, declarative sentences. Efficient. As for the wine, it shows lightly nutmeg-infused rosewater and cashew on the nose, but the palate is thin and watery. Some roses re-emerge on the finish, but by then it’s too late to save the wine.

Against my better judgment, I make a few comments on what we’ve tasted thus far. Our host seems to brighten a bit at our interest – it’s reflected more in the addition of adjectives and adverbs to her sentences, rather than by any change in visage – and while she’s not precisely rude, she’s also not particularly welcoming, and the resultant mood is more than a bit depressing. I’m momentarily inclined to dispense with the rest of the tasting and depart for happier locales, but stick it out in the interests of education.

Olssens 2001 Pinot Noir (Central Otago) – Lightly burnt cherry, earth and baked plum. This is elegant and balanced except for a drying component that grows on the finish; don’t hold it much longer, if you’ve got any.

Olssens 2001 Pinot Noir “Jackson Barry” (Central Otago) – Lovely, if sour, plum and citrus characteristics do battle with strange acidity (not its presence, but its aspect, which is just…I don’t know, somehow inexplicably off) and some stemminess to the finish. Just OK, and a bit of a letdown vs. a slightly superior bottle tasted at The Bunker.

Olssens 2001 Pinot Noir “Slapjack Creek” (Central Otago) – Bigger fruit here, with red cherry and cranberry added to fuller-bodied plum aromas. Tart but intense, with good overall structure despite the (yet again) spiky acidity and a longer finish.

Olssens 2002 “Robert the Bruce” (Central Otago) – There’s every indication (mostly climatological) that this wine – a blend of pinotage, cabernet sauvignon and shiraz – should be an utter disaster, yet it defies expectations. Its initial impression is ripe…write that with an exclamation point…though it later devolves to mixed seed peppers, with a light varnish character and a Juicy Fruit™ finish. Fruity but ultimately a bit soupy, it has complexity and interest, but what it lacks is sufficient quality. Still, points for effort.

From the decorations that adorn the tasting room and the deliberate presence of less-than current vintages (though they are current releases), it’s clear that Olssens has a close eye on its history. That’s fair enough, but the wines lack excitement and forward-looking energy, and despite wide name recognition are uncompetitive with the region’s better producers. That will need to change if the winery is to thrive in the future, lest all that remain is the statuary…both external and internal.

TN: Birthday bacchanalia

Voyager Estate 2002 Sauvignon Blanc/Semillon (Margaret River) – Fruity and fresh, with fine, citrusy acidity brightening up some grapefruit, lime, lemon and gooseberry flavors. Very simple, but pure summer fun. (6/06)

A reliable summer sipper, though it was better at release. Some of these blends can age, but this doesn’t seem like one that did. It doesn’t matter, because newer vintages are really tasty young. Closure: screwcap. Importer: Serge Doré. Web: http://www.voyagerestate.com.au/.

Ridge 1992 Monte Bello (Santa Cruz Mountains) – Very tight, tannic and dusty when first opened…and this doesn’t change much with extended aeration. The “Draper perfume” (from the wood regime, the terroir and the aromatic high-altitude fruit) is still present, but plays only a loud supporting role to the other structural elements and to the emergent characteristics of the blend: hard dark cherries with lashings of cassis, some rosemary, black pepper, and a deep base note of the blackest earth. So while the primary, oak-driven sheen has receded, there’s still much more that needs to emerge from this dense, tannic shell; I’d say the wine is probably about halfway to maturity. And if this note sounds a little cold, it’s not an accident. I think the wine is potentially extraordinary, but it’s so unyielding at the present that it’s hard to form any sort of emotional bond with the elixir…something that I think is essential to the enjoyment of the very best wines. (6/06)

80% cabernet sauvignon, 11% merlot, 9% petit verdot. The critical accord on this wine is remarkable, with virtually everyone in agreement with Paul Draper that this is a potentially monumental Monte Bello with a long life in front of it (the one exception: James Laube of Wine Spectator, who thought it should be ready to go about six years ago). Critics’ tastes can, do, and should differ, so when one finds such unanimity of praise, the conclusion is obvious. Alcohol: 13.4%. Closure: cork. Web: http://www.ridgewine.com/.

Trimbach 1989 Gewurztraminer “Vendanges Tardives” (Alsace) – From a 375 ml bottle, and very nearly as good as late-harvest gewurztraminer gets. There’s sweet lychee syrup, luxuriant cashew oil, and ripe peach, but what stand out here are the waves of spice…first Indian, then of the sweet baking variety, then moving into something more exotically (but indefinably) Asian…that finally settle on some sort of fantastical meat rub with an accompanying and highly-spiced chutney. There’s plenty of sweetness here, but it’s offset by mild acidity and a more structurally important tannic scrape, and the effect is to render the palate impression somewhat dryer than the initial impression would indicate. On the finish, the aforementioned waves of spice roll and recede for what seems like forever. Beautiful, silence-inducing wine. Is it “ready”? Yes, though it’s also in no danger of slipping for the next decade, and possibly more. (6/06)

I’ve had this wine quite a few times, often paired with the same vintage’s “Sélection des Grains Nobles” bottling, and have reached the inescapable conclusion that this is a better wine. Why? Fairly simply, it tastes a lot more like gewurztraminer. The SGN is dominated by its botrytis, and suffers from even less acidity, which the VT absolutely sings with both its late-harvest qualities and its essential varietal and terroir-influenced characteristics. Though to be fair to the SGN, more time may simply be required. In any case, if you own both, the VT is definitely the one to drink now.

This is as good a time as any to tell one of my favorite stories: a few years ago, Seagram C&E (now absorbed by Diageo) hosted a bacchanalian event in New York, at which most of their Bordeaux estates and the other stars of their portfolio poured a rather stunning collection of wines. One of the results of this assemblage was that both fabled Château d’Yquem and Trimbach were in the same room; Yquem pouring their epic ’88 and ’90 Sauternes, Trimbach with a larger portfolio including the above-described bottling. Later in the evening, as the tasting wound to a close and producers started to drift from their stations, I found Yquem’s Comte Alexandre de Lur Saluces behind the Trimbachs’ table, chatting with marketers Hubert and Jean and sharing glasses of each others’ extraordinary wines. The count swirled, sniffed, and swallowed the ’89…paused for a moment, and then leaned towards Hubert. He seemed almost embarrassed, and yet there was a kind of subdued ecstasy on his face. In a heavily-accented whisper, but one audible to a few nearby eavesdroppers (including me), he rather shockingly declared: “this is better than mine.” I’ll never forget that. Alcohol: 14%. Closure: cork. Importer: Seagram Chateau & Estate. Web: http://www.maison-trimbach.fr/.

Dining: Simon Pearce, Quechee, VT

The restaurant at Simon Pearce in Quechee, Vermont is obviously, as I think everyone must assume, there to sell their glassware and pottery. The food is necessarily an afterthought, and while it’s usually reasonably tasty, it can be variable due to changes in chefs and seasons. (Usually, fish is a better bet than meat, and appetizers are stronger than main courses.) The service is typically fine…comforting without being either too casual or too stifling. The only actual knock on the restaurant might be the one out of its control: it is very, very popular with both locals and tourists, and the mid-lunch or -dinner din can be deafening. But there are two reasons to dine here that surpass anything the food may or may not accomplish.

The first is the setting. Atop the waterfall that, at least historically, powered the mill and the forges at the heart of the various Simon Pearce industries, and looking one way towards yet another beautiful Vermont covered bridge and another along a peaceful river surrounded by overhanging trees, the window-laden dining room is beautiful in any season. Summer brings the gorgeous greens (and, as a bonus, open windows), fall the spectacular autumnal canvas on the surrounding hillsides, winter the stark grayscale of snow and falling mists of ice, and spring the thundering power of the melts that churn down from Killington to roar and crash over the falls right underneath the corner of the building.

The second isn’t much-advertised, and guide books tend to ignore it: the wine list is extraordinary. Not only is it long, but it still relies on a long-standing program of the careful cellaring of older vintages that are, to this day, sold at or near their original markups. I won’t mention specific examples from the current wine list (lest I deplete my own options!), but here’s one from the recent past: a stunning Beaucastel 1981 Châteaneuf-du-Pâpe for just $65. (Don’t bother asking for it; I drank the last bottle.) Even those uninterested in older wines will find much that’s worthwhile here, from the familiar to the arcane, and all at very fair prices.

(Review based on dozens of visits from 1996 to the present.)