Wine for the holidays

Even though it's late October, thoughts around casa Corkdork are turning to the holidays; partly because November also happens to be my father's birthday, partly because it's the time when we start considering "hey, what should we have with Thanksgiving dinner?"  There'll have to be at least 7 bottles purchased for gifting/celebrating this year -- two for Thanksgiving dinner, two for Christmas Eve, one for Dad's birthday, and two more for Christmas presents.  Oh, and something to ring in the new year with.

There's food to pair with, people's flavor preferences (and dislikes!) to work around, and gift-presentation thoughts to consider!  What is a wine afficianado to do?!

The current thinking is running something like this:

• For Thanksgiving, we traditionally have two bottles; a sparkling wine and a red with dinner.  For the bubbly, I have to say I love Cava, both for it's affordability (hey, they're all under $25 at my local wine store, and most are under $10, including my two favorites, Conde de Caralt and Rondel), and it's zesty flavor -- the perfect thing to start a meal with.
• For dinner, we traditionally have a Pinot Noir, and this year will probably be no different -- Pinot is versatile enough to work with the variety of foods on the table, and it's cranberry notes are a natural choice.  In the past, we've had Oregon and Russian River Pinot, but this year I think we may go for Burgundy, with the Chateau Chamirey Mercury Rouge 2005 (under $40) -- I got to try it twice this past weekend, once newly-opened and once with some air, and it's evolution was wonderful.  Newly-opened, it's fresh and fruity, but with some air, complexity is added, with earthiness and minerality underpinning the ripe fruit.
• My father loves reds and steak, so the natural thought there is a wine to go with steak.  He especially loves California Cabernet and Chateau Neuf du Pape, and those fit quite well in that milleu.  Since his birthday is in November, he'll get two bottles this season; probably one of each.  The current thinking is something from Martin Ray for the California Cab -- Dad's a big fan of their Stag's Leap and Diamond Mountain District cabs -- and a 2006 Chateau Neuf du Pape ('05 was a better year in the Southern Rhone, perfect for laying down for a couple years, but '06 is ready to drink young, and Dad doesn't hold onto wine long).  Another possibility would be a bottle from Von Strasser -- I know Dad's not had anything from them before, but they're excellent.  In all three cases, the presentation is part of the key -- the bottle looks good, as well as having good juice inside it.
• Not unlike with Thanksgiving, we start Christmas eve with bubbles, but generally Champagne.  Here, I'll look for a grower-maker wine -- it'll be a treat, pretty much regardless of what I pick.  Currently, I'm leaning towards a vintage 2000  Pertois-Moriset -- not as great of a year as 1996, but still quite good, and very tasty.
• Christmas Eve dinner traditionally consists of a roast of beef with lots of garlic and herbs.  I've got my eye on a very small-production Barolo (200 cases made, from a single vineyard), which will get a full decanting treatment, as we'll be drinking it young -- Barolo is notoriously long-lived.
  
• My fiancee loves Italian wines, and while a Barolo would make a great gift, she doesn't hold onto wine for more than a year, so a mature Brunello makes sense; there's lots of 2000's still out there, and even some '99's.  In fairness, since I'll likely be consuming the wine with her, it makes sense to pick out something I like too, and I love Brunello.
• Finally, to ring in the new year, something sweet (hopefully a harbinger of the year to come).  Demi-sec Champagne comes to mind -- it's much better for drinking on it's own than a brut -- and one of my favorite grower-makers has just the answer...  Franck Bonville's nonvintage Demi-sec (which they don't mention on their website -- hopefully it's not out of production!).

So, what can we learn from this list?  Well, for one, that I tend to spend about $40 on a bottle of wine for a gift (more or less, but everything averages out around $40 here).  Additionally, the perfect gift for one person may not be perfect for another -- while my fiancee might enjoy the Von Strasser or Martin Ray, she'll love a Brunello, and my father might like a Brunello, but he loves California Cab.  Additionally, it's not necessary to go to one of the major, spendy bottles for a gift (that's, of course, if you can find them -- there's not a lot of cult Brunello for sale in my area); a good gift of good wine, even if it's not from a "name brand" winery, will be appreciated -- and, may, in fact, be better (as the "name brand" wine charges a surcharge for the name!  To wit, I think the Von Strasser Sori Bricco cabernet is the equal of Diamond Creek's Red Rock Terrace, and it's half the price).  Finally, traditions are hard to break; we've had Champagne for probably 20 years for Christmas, and that's probably not going to change any time soon.  So go with it!

Image from slideshows.health.com.

Napa's Terrior

In a discussion with a friend -- an admitted Francophile when it comes to wines -- the topic of terroir came up.  The argument my friend made is that French wines are superior to Californian, because they express the terroir of their home region better.  I argue that there is, in fact, distinct terroir to Californian wines, and will use Napa valley to illustrate the point.  Note that I'm not arguing the superiority of Californian or French wine, just trying to disabuse the notion that Californian wines are soul-less and lack terroir (only some of them fit into that category... and the same could be said of mass-market French, or Italian, or Australian, or Chilean wine.  Anywhere that you produce wine as an industrial product, you'll have soul-less wine with no terroir!).

So, perhaps an explanation of what, exactly, "terroir" is would be in line here, as it's a French term that has no direct equivalent in English.  Basically, the idea of terroir is that the dirt (and climate, and drainage, and level of shade) here is different from the dirt (and climate, and drainage, and level of shade) there, and therefore wine made from the same grapes here will be different from the wine made there.  Ideally, a wine expressing terroir makes someone who tastes it blind immediately go "this is from only one spot on this green Earth, right there."  The idea of terroir explains why, for example, Petrus commands such a high price -- it's grown in a specific point in Pomerol, and there's no place exactly like it anywhere else, and that place happens to grow terrific grapes that express terroir well.

We'll be talking about Cabernet -- it's the grape that made Napa famous, and it's the red varietal that is most arguably the best expression of what a "good" wine from the region is.  Napa Cabernet runs from $10 to "hey, how much do you want to spend?" to "it's completely unavailable unless you're on the mailing list," and that's just for the new releases.  It's the crown jewel grape of Napa.

So, let's look at the AVAs within Napa.  Broadly speaking, they divide into mountainside AVA's (Mt. Veeder, Spring Mountain, and Diamond Mountain near the west, Howell Mountain and Atlas Peak on the east, and the Chiles Valley), and valley floor (everywhere else).  The wines from the mountainsides tend to be a bit less fruit-forward than the valley floor wines, and have more acidity.  The valley floor wines tend to be a bit rounder and more intensely flavored.

Additionally, different AVAs have their own distinct characteristics; Diamond Mountain tends to show off cocoa and espresso, while Mt. Veeder is much more earthy.  Oakville wines tend towards intense, richly textured wines with a hint of mint, while Stag's Leap District is best described as an "iron fist in a velvet glove," with beautiful, velvety tannins.

So what does that mean for someone drinking a bottle of Napa Valley's best?  Simple; if you want big fruit, go to the valley floors.  For wine with more ageability, look to the mountains.  If you find a winery makes a wine from an AVA that has a style you like... you'll likely enjoy the wines from their neighbors!

And, the best argument for Napa having terrior?  Why do you think the cult (and would-be cult) wines concentrate themselves in Oakville -- Harlan, Screaming Eagle, Ghost Block, and Nickel & Nickel all source from there...  The rich, ripe fruit, subtle tannins, and moderate acidity have a lot to do with it.  

Map from Napa Valley Vintners.

Cakebread and Far Niente; tasting cult wines.

The other day, I found myself in one of my local enomatic bars with about an hour to kill, and decided to do some tasting.  This particular bar has a good selection of upper-end Californian wines, and (it being Florida in the beginning of the summer, ergo hot), therefore, I decided to taste the whites.

First on the block was Cakebread Cellars 2007 Chardonnay.  This is, if you don't know, a cult-classic chard that is quite hard to get a hold of at retail (Cakebread allocates their wines, slanting heavily towards the restaurant market -- and the wine bar can get a large allocation, since they're an on-premises license holder, hence a "restaurant" so far as the winery is concerned).  My thoughts:

Yellow-gold in the glass.  Highly oaky nose, not showing a bunch of fruit.  In the mouth, the oak dominates, showing some vanilla, with a creamy mouthfeel.  There is amazingly little fruit in this wine; it tastes like chewing on a toothpick.  The oak astringency throws the balance out of whack, but the finish is long.  I can see why people hunt for this wine -- it's rarity, primarily, drives demand -- but it's a big pass for me.  87 points.

So, you can see, this is -- to my eyes, at least -- a demand-driven cult wine.  It's good, if you like oak, but the main reason people seek it out is it's rarity, not it's flavor (well... unless you love tasting barrel rather than wine).  I was actually quite surprised how much I didn't like this wine -- as much as it's hyped, it was downright disappointing.  This wine is a poor value, period.

Then, there was the other wine I tried -- well, the other Chardonnay, at least.  Far Niente Chardonnay 2006 (note: pictured is the 2005, although it's hard to see the neck label).  Far Niente is a luxe producer from Napa, a product of the Nickel and Nickel partnership.  They're best known for making exactly two wines -- a Chardonnay and a Cabernet.  No "reserve," no "special selection," and that's it.  According to their website, "[we produce wine of] the highest quality possible from our estate vineyards; if the wine doesn't meet expectations, it doesn't make the final blend."  So how is their Chardonnay?

Golden in the glass.  On the nose, the wine shows buttered fig and some pear notes; this may not have gone through intentional malolactic fermentation, but there's definitely some cream evident.  In the mouth, the wine is luxuriantly rich, with well-controlled oak underlying the fruit and buttercream.  This is deep, intense wine.  Balance is nearly perfect; just enough acidity to keep it interesting, enough weight to be intense.  Finish is quite long.  90 points.

So, there, you can see the difference.  For me, at least, the controlled use of oak in the Far Niente made it a much better wine than the Cakebread.  And I can understand why this wine is so sought-after; the flavor, not the rarity (Far Niente may allocate, but it's not nearly as slanted towards restaurants as Cakebread is.  So you can, you know, actually buy some in a wine shop!).

And the upshot?  Both these wines are quite expensive (in the $50-$60 range).  In both cases, it's really mainly conspicuous consumption, drinking either.  Heck, my tasting pours cost $7 each.  Is it worth it?  For the Cakebread, definitely no -- if I wanted Chardonnay with all oak and no fruit, I'd drink some Simi Alexander Valley.  For the Far Niente... perhaps.  There's a lot of good Chardonnay out there, but this one is quite good, and their reputation for consistency is excellent.  That being said... it's twice the price of one of my favorites (more on that wine later).  But if I were trying to impress, both with the label and the wine?  Yep.

Photos from Cakebread Cellars and All Star Wine and Spirits.

On the road... touring Napa & Sonoma.

I'm going to be travelling in wine country in California in about a year (it'll be a road-trip bachelor party; wine and food trumps beer and strippers!).  So, I'm in the process of planning where to visit.

Of course, since I work in the wine industry, that's a bit easier for me -- I can count on our corporate office to arrange some tasting tours for me.  But, were I a civilian, how would I go about it?

The first thing would be to call wineries I was interested in -- either because I've had their wine and liked it, or because I'd like to try their wines.  Ask for recommendations -- both from friends who've visited the area, and from your local wine shop staff (you'd be surprised how many staff members have gone to a number of areas for wine tours!).  Check out wine blogs -- both reviewers and winery blogs -- for ideas as well!

Assume a tour and tasting will take an hour or so (after all, this is a chance to relax, not to recreate the Bataan march in wine country, so no power-tasting!).  Schedule the  visits about 2-3 hours apart -- so, if presuming the schedule was tasting from 10 AM (when most wineries open up) to 5 PM, I'd schedule 3 to 4 tastings a day.

Why schedule such long breaks?  Simple -- ask at the winery, "where should I go next?  I'm going to be at [wherever] in 2 hours, so what would you recommend?"  The folks at the winery will be far more knowledgeable of the hidden gems in the area than anyone else.  So take their advice!

Additionally, you might just see someplace that appeals to you -- so have enough latitude in your schedule to be able to visit!

Also, as a note -- tastings in Napa and Sonoma are not free.  Expect to pay anywhere from $10 to $50 for a tasting flight (4-5 wines), depending on where you go and what menu you choose.  The costs will be higher for Big Name wineries (eg, Opus One, Silver Oak), and higher for reserve and library selections.  Yet another reason to avoid the Big Name wineries -- your tasting dollar goes further off the beaten track!  Yes, there are exceptions, but plan on paying.

What about food?  Well, again, ask.  There's always places that non-locals can recommend (personally, I'm a fan of Cindy's Backstreet Kitchen in St. Helena -- try the duck burgers!), but really, why not ask the locals (that's how I found Cindy's!), as new restaurants open up all the time.  Alternately... what's the phrase, "a loaf of bread, a jug of wine, and thou."  Picnic overlooking the vineyards -- many tasting rooms have a small picnic area (Heitz has back patio for picnicking, for example, and Von Strasser has a front patio where I'm sure they wouldn't mind you enjoying a sandwich).  I would check before planning, though, to make sure it's OK.  Still, how could you beat popping into a winery for their new release Pinot Noir, picking up a bottle, spreading out some gourmet sandwiches (there's a Dean & Delucca in Napa.  'nuff said.), popping open your new find, and relaxing for a half-hour? 

How about getting from point A to point B?  There are a number of limo/town car services that will drive you around wine country, and I would recommend these wholeheartedly.  If you're not spitting at your tastings, you'll be taking in a lot of wine -- the last thing I'd want a reader to get as a souvenir from wine country would be a DWI.  At the very least, make sure you have a designated driver.  As a side note, many of the limo services will have set tastings that they go to; these can be a great way to see "off the beaten track" wineries, but if you've got tastings arranged, let them know when you book, as they'll happily work around your schedule.

So, in a nutshell, that's how you'd arrange a slightly hectic, but unique, visit to wine country.  Now, as for how to get your new finds back from wine country... well, that's another thing entirely -- I'd recommend shipping your luggage home via UPS or FedEx, and checking a case of wine (labeled "fragile") as your baggage for the flight home.  Because, you know, you've got to have some souvenirs!  Especially when you consider that some wines are still only available at the winery (for example, did you know that Heitz makes a port? Yep.  You'll probably only see it in their tasting room.).

How not to find value...

The other day I had the chance to meet a vintner from a boutique California winery; he makes about 4 wines, all estate-grown around his house.  I'll decline to name him or his winery, for reasons that will become clear shortly.

Really, he was quite a nice guy.  Very friendly, in a slightly reserved kind of way -- were he a generation younger, I think he'd be a blogger, in fact -- and he served three of his wines, two of which were 3-year-old library releases (the current release is 2005, we had the 2002).  There was a white Bordeaux blend, a cabernet (well... 85% cab, 13% merlot, and 2% petit verdot.   But, in the US, since it's more than 75% of one grape, the wine can be called that grape), and a Bordeaux blend with cab, merlot, and cabernet franc (less than 75% of any single grape, so it's sold under a proprietary name).  He did feel very strongly that his wines were "great values," that the prices they were being offered for were "rediculously low."

The white (a new-release semillon and sauvignon blanc blend) was good.  Not great, though, and not worth the selling price when compared with Bordeauxes in the same price point ($15-$25, in this case).  Then, I tried the cabernet... and this is where it fell apart.

The wine was acceptable, but not anywhere nearly as good as the vintner apparently thought it was.  This was a wine in a price point where I have come to expect a lot ($30-$50).  Honestly, when a bottle of wine in a store costs more than an entree at a restaurant, it's got to really wow me to make me want to buy it.  This was... plain.  Simple.  For less -- far less -- I have had easily a dozen wines that are better, from appellations as near as Napa and as far away as Stellenbosch.  And I was forced to have to talk to the man; he wanted to know how I liked the wine.  "Oh, it's very complex, showing secondary notes of dried fruit and flower, some suede around the edges, but still retaining some fresh fruit at the core.  Special-occasion wine."  In other words, I didn't say what I was thinking, to wit, "why the hell is this $40?  It's worth $18 at best, and that's just so it doesn't get caught up in the price points of $15 and $20, which are pretty crowded with good stuff.  All in all, I'd rather have a number of other wines."

Then, the Bordeaux blend, his "premier" wine.  According to the vintner, "if we had any more of this vintage at the winery, we'd sell it for $95 a bottle."  The list on it was $70.

And, again, it was good.  But, nowhere nearly as good as he seemed to think it was.  In fact, given that this wine was nearly the list price of a new release of Chateau St. Jean's Cinq Cepages (and, $30 more than I paid for the new release of Cinq Cepages last fall...), and my thoughts on that wine -- it's quite good, and very worth the $40 I paid for it -- all things considered, I'd rather have 5 bottles of Cinq Cepages than 3 of this winery's "premier" wine... and you can keep the $10 in change.

So, why is this not value?  Simple.  For one, this winery is a specific sub-appellation of Napa, and indeed, it's all estate-grown.  So, it's very geographically specific, and that's going to raise the price (let's face it, "an Oakville cab," costs more than "a Napa cab.") Secondarily, the vintner seems to think much more of his wine than it's worth -- and price is, at least in part, a reflection of what the vintner thinks of his wine.  Finally, this winery is a bit of a darling to certain critics, and those 90+ ratings raise the price.

Yet another reason not to follow the herd -- you wind up paying too much, in my opinion, for too little.

So how do you not find value?  Shop in the premium regions, buying only highly-rated wines, and buy wine from vintners who feel strongly that their wines are worth what they say it is, rather than what the market dictates it is.  That's a recipe for overpriced wine.