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.