It’s always the last of the Killer Vs that’ll jump up and bite you.
The ‘Killer Vs’ is my way of sorting out all those various and vague elements that come together to form the specific wine in your glass. Some people liken these elements to the sections of a symphony orchestra. Some dry old dull people just refer to them as simply what they are.
But it’s my blog, so I’ll stick with the Killer Vs.
The first V: Vineyard. Where the grape is grown. What kind of soil. Climate. Micro-climate. Even within a vineyard, specific blocks or rows can determine flavor and structure.
Ancillary to V 1 is V 2: Variety. The right grape planted in the right place. Is Napa Valley the best place to grow Pinot Noir? No. How about Gevrey-Chambertin? O yes. And is the Willamette Valley the right place for Cabernet Sauvignon? Hahahahaha!
V three: Vintner. What the winemaker does once the grapes are in. Gussy it up with a lot of oak. No oak. Oak chips? Move flavors around with different yeasts. Extended maceration? Make a rosé. Manipulation, in short.
V 4: CuVée; okay, I’m cheating here. Although cuvée doesn’t precisely mean blend, it has, in the wine world, taken on that connotation. If you have 40 barrels of Pinot Noir, do you lump them altogether in one big galumphing wine, or make separate lots? Like the Winemaker’s Cuvée, or my Cat’s Cuvée?
V 5: Ven to pick; Or, we could use the French ‘Vendange’, but ver’s the fun in that? When to pick is especially important in a marginal climate like Oregon’s Willamette Valley. The last two harvests, 2007 and 2008, are perfect examples. If you panicked and picked early, you’re sunk. If you waited too long, you may have lost everything. I’m not saying either of these were ‘bad’ vintages. Challenging.
Which brings us to the last of the Killer Vs: Vintage. Not just in terms of, “o 1999 was a great vintage,” or “2006 was a ‘big’ vintage,” but for the consumer, how old is the wine? And is that good or bad? A year old Beaujolais Nouveau is over the hill. While a 20-year-old Bordeaux might not be ready to drink yet
But it’s especially important with white wines. A recent foray into Stupid Land by yours truly will serve as a cautionary tale. I spied at my local Fred’s the Jewell Collection, 2004 Un-Oaked Monterey Chardonnay, $5.99. Woo-hoo! I cried, a no oak Chardonnay for six- bucks. I bought it. Or fell for it.
Then I tasted. It was dull, flat, tired, and slightly oxidized. I grabbed the bottle by the throat and to my horror noted the vintage, 2004. That’s over the hill for California Chardonnay.
Lesson learned. Beware the Killer Vs.
Wednesday, January 28, 2009
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Smooth Sailing
Scrolling down this blog line, I can’t help but notice I recommend an inordinate number of French wines. What’s up with that? Well, we’ll concede Italy to Matt Kramer (he’s back!), I’ll take France.
But really and truly, can’t we find some decent local wines? Mais oui! And just to reel in some of my old Salem Statesman Journal readers, how about a couple wines from around the 45th parallel. First up a white, Terrapin Cellars, 2007 Oregon Pinot Gris, $13.
Intriguing little thing, in that it leans dangerously towards RS. Residual Sugar. Not talking dessert wine here, but definitely a bit of sweetness that ‘brings up’ the tropical fruit notes of Pinot Gris. Fairly rich, and with good acidity, it went wonderfully with a mild Kung Pao Chicken (‘mild’ because my Thai peppers had absolutely no kick to them –damn!).
While the wines are made at Eola Hills Winery, the fellow behind Terrapin is Salem area vineyard owner…yikes, his name just slipped right out of my head. Rick something. I should know, as in 2002, I bought pinot blanc from him for my amateur winemaking venture. I’ll think of it.
In the meantime, a red wine with some history. Many years ago there was a winery outside Salem, Silver Falls. I remember it well, because I used to be a jazz columnist, and this winery had summer jazz concerts. I wound up spending much of my time in the tasting room. It wasn’t long afterwards I tossed the jazz hat in favor of the wine writer’s toque.
Don’t blame Silver Falls for that, as they folded somewhere in the early 1990s. And now a resurrection, of sorts. I discovered the Silver Falls Vineyards, 2006 Oregon Pinot Noir, $16, by chance.
I happen to occasion the bar at Beaches in Vancouver, and a while back I was in the mood for Pinot Noir, and Yazmin, the bar keep, bade me try this. And it was good. Maybe suggested by the river outside Beaches' window, I found it smooth sailing. Hints of cherry and floral aromas, soft texture, light, straight-ahead fruit.
Yazmin then told me, it was on the list because one of the owners of Silver Falls is the sister of the owner/manager of Beaches. Happy coincidence.
Getting on the minimalist Silver Falls website, it appears as though this is indeed the old vineyard (thirty-year-old vines), but definitely new owners. This Pinot was made at Chateau Bianca.
We wish them well.
O, the name of that Terrapin guy, Rick…something or other. I’ll think of it.
But really and truly, can’t we find some decent local wines? Mais oui! And just to reel in some of my old Salem Statesman Journal readers, how about a couple wines from around the 45th parallel. First up a white, Terrapin Cellars, 2007 Oregon Pinot Gris, $13.
Intriguing little thing, in that it leans dangerously towards RS. Residual Sugar. Not talking dessert wine here, but definitely a bit of sweetness that ‘brings up’ the tropical fruit notes of Pinot Gris. Fairly rich, and with good acidity, it went wonderfully with a mild Kung Pao Chicken (‘mild’ because my Thai peppers had absolutely no kick to them –damn!).
While the wines are made at Eola Hills Winery, the fellow behind Terrapin is Salem area vineyard owner…yikes, his name just slipped right out of my head. Rick something. I should know, as in 2002, I bought pinot blanc from him for my amateur winemaking venture. I’ll think of it.
In the meantime, a red wine with some history. Many years ago there was a winery outside Salem, Silver Falls. I remember it well, because I used to be a jazz columnist, and this winery had summer jazz concerts. I wound up spending much of my time in the tasting room. It wasn’t long afterwards I tossed the jazz hat in favor of the wine writer’s toque.
Don’t blame Silver Falls for that, as they folded somewhere in the early 1990s. And now a resurrection, of sorts. I discovered the Silver Falls Vineyards, 2006 Oregon Pinot Noir, $16, by chance.
I happen to occasion the bar at Beaches in Vancouver, and a while back I was in the mood for Pinot Noir, and Yazmin, the bar keep, bade me try this. And it was good. Maybe suggested by the river outside Beaches' window, I found it smooth sailing. Hints of cherry and floral aromas, soft texture, light, straight-ahead fruit.
Yazmin then told me, it was on the list because one of the owners of Silver Falls is the sister of the owner/manager of Beaches. Happy coincidence.
Getting on the minimalist Silver Falls website, it appears as though this is indeed the old vineyard (thirty-year-old vines), but definitely new owners. This Pinot was made at Chateau Bianca.
We wish them well.
O, the name of that Terrapin guy, Rick…something or other. I’ll think of it.
Wednesday, January 21, 2009
La Vieille Ferme -Boxy Lady
Okay, I promised I’d report back on La Vieille Ferme’s new boxed wine, so, here we go…
But first, an anecdote (you didn’t think you were getting away without an anecdote, now did you?). Six years ago I was strolling down Rue Daguerre, a not-yet-touristy pietons in Paris, when I spied a shop full of small wine casks. Was it a winery? Nosy, I stepped in, and fortunately the gent running the joint spoke more English than I did French. He explained these casks were really bag-in-box wines. Instead of squirting wine from a cheapy cardboard box, you pour from a nice traditional looking small wine barrel.
Boy, wait till Franzia hears about this.
He tried to talk me into purchasing one, but I told him I didn’t think it would fit in my carry-on.
In any case, it reminded me that the French, while very traditional, are not afraid of innovation.
Fast forward to today, strolling through Freddies, and seeing a box of the La Vieille Ferme, NV (non-vintage) Cotes du Ventoux (red), $21. I’ve been a fan of this southern France producer for a long time, all its whites, reds and rosés. The red is a classic blend of 50% Grenache, 20% Syrah, 15% Carignan, and 15% Cinsault.
In the bottle they’re reasonably enough priced, under $10. But the box is the equivalent of four bottles, making it quite a deal.
But is it any good?
The first thing that struck me is how fruity it is. My recollection of the bottled wine is that it’s more lean and angular. But this is up-front fresh and pretty. After a while in the glass, however, the Grenache kicks in, and a kind of raw raciness emerges.
Maybe preserved in the bag keeps the wine fresh and fruity. But if you prefer it (as I do) a little more lean and food-friendly, pour it in a glass, and go for a walk around the block.
Speaking of which, I have some bad news. Last time I was strolling down Rue Daguerre that wine shop was gone. Maybe the French aren’t so forgiving of innovation.
But first, an anecdote (you didn’t think you were getting away without an anecdote, now did you?). Six years ago I was strolling down Rue Daguerre, a not-yet-touristy pietons in Paris, when I spied a shop full of small wine casks. Was it a winery? Nosy, I stepped in, and fortunately the gent running the joint spoke more English than I did French. He explained these casks were really bag-in-box wines. Instead of squirting wine from a cheapy cardboard box, you pour from a nice traditional looking small wine barrel.
Boy, wait till Franzia hears about this.
He tried to talk me into purchasing one, but I told him I didn’t think it would fit in my carry-on.
In any case, it reminded me that the French, while very traditional, are not afraid of innovation.
Fast forward to today, strolling through Freddies, and seeing a box of the La Vieille Ferme, NV (non-vintage) Cotes du Ventoux (red), $21. I’ve been a fan of this southern France producer for a long time, all its whites, reds and rosés. The red is a classic blend of 50% Grenache, 20% Syrah, 15% Carignan, and 15% Cinsault.
In the bottle they’re reasonably enough priced, under $10. But the box is the equivalent of four bottles, making it quite a deal.
But is it any good?
The first thing that struck me is how fruity it is. My recollection of the bottled wine is that it’s more lean and angular. But this is up-front fresh and pretty. After a while in the glass, however, the Grenache kicks in, and a kind of raw raciness emerges.
Maybe preserved in the bag keeps the wine fresh and fruity. But if you prefer it (as I do) a little more lean and food-friendly, pour it in a glass, and go for a walk around the block.
Speaking of which, I have some bad news. Last time I was strolling down Rue Daguerre that wine shop was gone. Maybe the French aren’t so forgiving of innovation.
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Circle the wagons. Start bailing water. Omigod, run for your lives!
Yes, the world as we know it is coming to an end. And there’s a small band of wayward wanderers whose livelihood is in serious jeopardy. I’m talking about the rapidly diminishing prospects of the lowly Wine Writer.
And it’s not just yours truly. (Sidebar -I just read that Gannett papers, which runs my old playground, the Salem Statesman Journal, is imposing a ‘furlough’ on most of its employees for one week. Unpaid. What is USA Today going to do? Publish re-runs for a week? The Greatest Hits? Hey, look, the Yankees won the World Series...Hahaha.)
The Columbian hasn’t had a wine columnist since I fired them (they weren’t living up to my expectations) back in 1999. And readers of the Oregonian may have noticed last Sunday, no Matt Kramer column. And that person who writes for Fooday –not there this week. Furloughs? Axe? I don’t know. But it doesn’t look good.
And who’s suffering most, writers or readers? The Oregonian has already eliminated its Wednesday Science section, and the Monday paper is as slim as a paper clip. Okay, so on the one hand you get through the paper a lot faster every morning, but on the other hand, where’s our well-rounded world and cultural coverage? Where are we going to get our daily dose of information?
Well, I do have a solution for my own brethren and cistern. Form a wine writers consortium, SOWW (Society of Wine Writers). Just like AP, us SOWWs will develop, produce and distribute wine columns. Cheaper for the papers, we still have a voice, and make no more money than we ever did.
Because without your friendly wine writer, how would you know that La Vieille Ferme is now available in a box? You wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t know what it tastes like…and I won’t either, until I sample it, and report back in my next Blog.
Yes, the world as we know it is coming to an end. And there’s a small band of wayward wanderers whose livelihood is in serious jeopardy. I’m talking about the rapidly diminishing prospects of the lowly Wine Writer.
And it’s not just yours truly. (Sidebar -I just read that Gannett papers, which runs my old playground, the Salem Statesman Journal, is imposing a ‘furlough’ on most of its employees for one week. Unpaid. What is USA Today going to do? Publish re-runs for a week? The Greatest Hits? Hey, look, the Yankees won the World Series...Hahaha.)
The Columbian hasn’t had a wine columnist since I fired them (they weren’t living up to my expectations) back in 1999. And readers of the Oregonian may have noticed last Sunday, no Matt Kramer column. And that person who writes for Fooday –not there this week. Furloughs? Axe? I don’t know. But it doesn’t look good.
And who’s suffering most, writers or readers? The Oregonian has already eliminated its Wednesday Science section, and the Monday paper is as slim as a paper clip. Okay, so on the one hand you get through the paper a lot faster every morning, but on the other hand, where’s our well-rounded world and cultural coverage? Where are we going to get our daily dose of information?
Well, I do have a solution for my own brethren and cistern. Form a wine writers consortium, SOWW (Society of Wine Writers). Just like AP, us SOWWs will develop, produce and distribute wine columns. Cheaper for the papers, we still have a voice, and make no more money than we ever did.
Because without your friendly wine writer, how would you know that La Vieille Ferme is now available in a box? You wouldn’t. And you wouldn’t know what it tastes like…and I won’t either, until I sample it, and report back in my next Blog.
Monday, January 5, 2009
Cheap Shots
So, what's Bobby got in his mouth today?
Oak. Or is it wood chips? Or some chemical ingredient to simulate the taste of oak.
As you might guess, I've been drinking some cheap California chardonnay lately. Sweet, oaky. And if it's cheap, that probably means that oakiness does not come from real barrels, but from artificial flavoring. Add a little dab of vanilla, touch of butterscotch...mmm, just right.
What's the remedy? Try the Louis Jadot, 2006 Macon-Villages Chardonnay, $15. Pure straight-ahead chardonnay flavor. Typical of the Macon, this has great refreshing flavors of lemon, roasted pine nut, and green apple. And you won't need a toothpick afterwards.
-----
When I write about bubbly I usually include something about the fact that every wine region of France produces sparkling wine (Champagne being the champ), with the exception of Bordeaux. So what did I stumble on the other day? The Jaillance, Brut Rose Cremant de Bordeaux, $14. A freakish little number, composed of 70% Cabernet Sauvignon and 30% Merlot, this has loads of bold berry and spice flavors. There's a racy note of bitter chocolate that makes it even more intriguing.
I found it at my local Fred Meyer so it should be readily available.
Oak. Or is it wood chips? Or some chemical ingredient to simulate the taste of oak.
As you might guess, I've been drinking some cheap California chardonnay lately. Sweet, oaky. And if it's cheap, that probably means that oakiness does not come from real barrels, but from artificial flavoring. Add a little dab of vanilla, touch of butterscotch...mmm, just right.
What's the remedy? Try the Louis Jadot, 2006 Macon-Villages Chardonnay, $15. Pure straight-ahead chardonnay flavor. Typical of the Macon, this has great refreshing flavors of lemon, roasted pine nut, and green apple. And you won't need a toothpick afterwards.
-----
When I write about bubbly I usually include something about the fact that every wine region of France produces sparkling wine (Champagne being the champ), with the exception of Bordeaux. So what did I stumble on the other day? The Jaillance, Brut Rose Cremant de Bordeaux, $14. A freakish little number, composed of 70% Cabernet Sauvignon and 30% Merlot, this has loads of bold berry and spice flavors. There's a racy note of bitter chocolate that makes it even more intriguing.
I found it at my local Fred Meyer so it should be readily available.
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