A Champagne Manifesto

In the world of wine, few wines are as romanticized as Champagne; there's an aura of luxury, romance, and celebration surrounding the word.  Champagne is what we use to greet the new year, to celebrate weddings and birthdays, what we splurge on.  It's... well, Champagne!

Oddly enough, though, it's often about as artisan of a product as Pepsi.  Often, in fact, it's about as industrial a wine as the Australian "critter label" contingent.  Champagne is, for the most part, dominated by the big luxury-good conglomerates (LVMH -- Louis Vuitton Moët Hennesey -- and Rémy-Cointreau are the best known of these).  What could be considered "big house" Champagne accounts for around 90% of the market, as of 2008.

Why are these wines bad?  Well, not so much bad, as suboptimal?  An analogy¹ may be in order; imagine a vintner -- your favorite, be it Heidi Peterson-Barrett, or Michel Gassier, whoever -- releasing a new wine called simply "California," or "Loire," or "Piedmont," named after the grand region where the wine is from.  There's no vintage date.  The blend of grapes is left unknown, but they do tell you "some of the grapes are from here, some from there, but we can't tell you where all of them are from -- trade secret, you understand.  Yeah, there's no appellation on it, but really, isn't all that appellation stuff just too complex anyhow?  At any rate, the wine is luxurious, worthy of top prices -- it'll start at $40 a bottle.  We made a million cases of it last year.  So buy it."

You'd look at them like they were insane, right?  $40 a bottle for a wine with a million-case production run (by way of comparison, that's on the order of quantity of Yellowtail Cabernet)?  No vintage date, no appellation, no terroir?  No thanks.

Yet, this is exactly what the big houses do.  Consider Veuve Cliquot (owned by LVMH) -- their production is around 1.5 million cases annually, when you take into account all of their wines (base nonvintage, rose, demi sec, vintage, and Grande Dame).  The vast majority of the wine is made with purchased grapes (Champagne has about 19,000 vineyard owners, and the big houses own very little land).  Most of their wine carries no vintage date.  It's been stretched and manipulated through dosage to meet the requests of a focus group.  It's a product, in the truest sense of the word -- the planned, plotted outcome of a very rigorously designed process.

Sounds a lot like the story of Woodbridge, doesn't it?  Except, at least, Woodbridge is vintage-dated; they allow for some small variance from year to year.  It might be interesting... perhaps.  Or at least different.

It gets worse, though -- even the grapes the big houses buy tend not to be very good.  They pay by weight, not quality, for their grapes.  Good grapes for sparkling wine tend to be just a hair under-ripe, and low on water -- hence, light.  If you are a farmer with two plots of land, one with heavy, wet grapes that are not ideal for sparkling wine, and one with perfectly under-ripe grapes, and someone offers you money for weight, what would you give them?  I'd save the good stuff for someone who paid for quality!

So why is this stuff $40+ a bottle?  Is it worth it?

My answer would be a resounding "no."

So what's the alternative?

Récoltant-Manipulant ("Grower-Maker") Champagne.  The other 10% of the market.  Where the good grapes tend to stay.  You can tell a Récoltant wine by the initials "RM" on the Champagne code (generally on the bottom of the front label).  These are wines made by people, not corporations.  Wines with a sense of place, not ones that are poked and prodded into bland nothingness.

And, even better, these are not wines that are more expensive -- in fact, due to a lack of marketing costs (sponsoring polo tournaments and regattas is expensive, it turns out!) RM Champagne often costs substantially less than the big-house products!

Often, an RM wine will even carry the name of the village where the grapes were grown -- there's several hundred in Champagne, and some even have a cru (Grand or Premier) status associated with them.  I find, personally, that the pinot-heavy wines of Bouzy are excellent -- very lively, with gorgeous cherry notes.  For blancs de blancs, wines made only of Chardonnay, Le Mesnil-sur-Oger is excellent, with focused citrus and biscuit notes.

Note that I'm not recommending a specific label here -- the RM's available in my market may not be the RM's available in someone else's.  We're talking about wines with a total production in the thousands of bottles, so even with as small a slice of the market as they have, there's a lot of producers out there.  And, that small slice is growing -- it's around 10% now, while 10 years ago, it was 3%.

The best thing to do, really, is explore.  Come to your Champagne with an open mind, forget what you "know" about the big houses, and discover what terroir really means in sparkling wine.  So buy a bottle with an unknown name, a little "RM" on the bottom of the label, and the name of a town half a world away, and preferably one with the words "Grand cru."  Taste.  Enjoy.  Be a part of the revolution in Champagne.  Say "no" to wine as a product, and "yes" to wine as an expression of place.

¹ This is lifted pretty much wholesale from Terry Thiese, who is the visionary leading the trend to RM Champagnes.  Good writers borrow, and all that,  but I felt I had to credit him.

Ranging through the Rhône

The Rhône is a darling of critics, with wines available in basically all price points, from under-$10 for Côtes du Rhône through "that wine is how much?" for the best from Châteauneuf du Pape.

Essentially, the Rhône is split into two regions, the northern Rhône, which runs between Vienne in the extreme north, to Valence in the south.  The dominant grape here is Syrah, although there are some white grapes grown here, primarily Viognier, with some Marsanne and Rousanne.  This area has the unusual distinction of being a place where red and white may be blended -- by way of example, the wines of the Côte-Rôtie generally has 5% Viognier blended into the Syrah, although they may be anywhere from 0% to 20% Viognier.  

These tend to be comparatively fruit-forward wines, lighter in style than comparable Shiraz from Australia, with lower alcohol levels.  There is often a pronounced earthy note to the wine as well, something you often don't find in the New World counterparts to these wines.

In the southern Rhône, by contrast, many grapes are grown -- primarily Grenache, with Syrah and Mouvedre, although a number of other grapes are allowed.  In Châteauneuf du Pape, for example, 13 grapes are allowed, and of those 13, 2 have both red and black varieties, allowing for up to 15 types of base wine!  As a bit of trivia, one producer, Château Beaucastel, uses all 13 varieties in their wines.

Good bets for places to get fine wine in the southern Rhône include the aforementioned Châteauneuf du Pape (where you do pay for the privilege of drinking well-known wine, but it's well-known for a reason), as well as Vacquyras (known for powerful wines), Gigondas, and indeed, the Côtes du Rhône (very accessible for new drinkers, the wines from here tend to be softer than their higher-priced cousins).

So why drink Rhône?  Especially with the summer coming up, Rhône wines offer great pairings with traditional cuisine.  Steaks on the grill with potato salad and cream corn?  A Vacquyras should be perfect with that!  Picnicing with sandwiches?  Côtes du Rhône works well!

Map from Wikipedia, created by Lofo7

Maestro, the wine, please...

Over on Dr. Vino (a fine blog that I recommend whole-heartedly if you're into the politics and economics of wine), I learned of a new Champagne closure, called "Maestro."  Duval-Leroy is introducing it with their 2004 Clos du Bouvieres.  A video of it in action can be found here.

Basically, to open the bottle, you pry the lever up, and with a pop, the cap comes off.  Under the tip of the lever is a crown cap, which is what Champagne is aged under, and a plastic hood that covers the crown cap and lever mechanism.

Effectively, it's a single-use beer-bottle opener for Champagne.

Which is pretty cool.  I like alternative closures!  For still wine, there's basically 5 methods of closing off a bottle of wine:  real cork, plastic cork, Stelvin/screwcap, Zork, and Vinolock.  Real and plastic cork are pretty well known, as is Stelvin.  The Zork is a primarily Austrlian closure (you can find it on Whoop Whoop and Red Knot wines from Australia, although Don Sebastiani uses it for his Plungerhead zins from California), made of plasticized vegetable oil, it looks like nothing if not a single-malt Scotch or LBV Port closure -- there's a bit that sticks into the neck of the bottle, and a covering cap.  It also makes a satisfying pop when removed from the bottle (something I find sadly lacking in the Stelvin).  Vinolock is a similar method, using inert glass and a silicone O-ring that are covered by a foil.  It looks quite similar to a normal cork, and has all the advantages of Stelvin in addition.  It's mostly used for wines from Sicily (Cusumano uses it on their wines), although Molly Dooker used it last year.

Anyhow, there is a wine bottled right now  with something like the Maestro -- Chandon's Etoile, which is bottled directly under crown cap.  Yes, that's right, you need a beer bottle opener to pop that bottle open!

All in all, it's a bad time to be a cork farmer; more on that later, I suspect.

Photo from Alcan Packaging.

Starting out in wine.

A friend of mine just asked me the question, "I'm introducing a friend to wine. He doesn't drink normally, what would you recommend as a starter bottle?"  Since it was on Twitter, I was limited to 140 characters in responding, so I recommended a specific bottle of Merlot, or the idea of going to some tastings (either in-store or in wine country -- she lives in northern California, so Amador and Napa/Sonoma are a daytrip away).

Which leads me to think, how does one get started in wine?  What should a first introduction to wine, what to drink, what to know?

Whoa.  That's over-thinking it.

So, some specific recommendations (aside from "try this bottle," that is).

1. Go to a tasting, either in a store or at a winery.  Given proximity to Napa, a day trip would come to mind -- yes, it's slightly expensive, both in terms of gas and $10 tasting fees -- but there's bound to be something good there.  If paying tasting fees isn't in the cards, hop off to Amador, where most of the wineries are free or nearly so (eg, I know Sobon is free for the base tasting, and  $5 for reserve tastings, which allow you get to keep the glass).
2. Have friends over for a "bring a bottle" party -- this could be a blind tasting, in fact.  Again, a chance to taste a couple of wines might make more sense.
3. Take him to a wine store and put it in the hands of the staff there; they'll know their stock (or, at least, they should), and may be able to make good specific recommendations within the style and price point that's comfortable.
4. Don't limit the initial introduction to California wines; I've found Dornfielder (a German red grape) to be a great wine for new wine drinkers, it's soft, fruity, and just a bit sweet.  Ditto Scuppernog and Catawba (from North Carolina and New York, respectively); they're easy drinkers.  Australian wines are often good for new drinkers, as they're in a much more relaxed, low-tannin style with a bit more residual sugar.
5. Avoid the temptation to get a top-flight, reserve wine.  They're often very oaky, overpowering, and might turn off a new drinker.  In fact the "cheaper" wines often appeal more to a palate that's used to sweeter beverages -- Americans are raised on soda, so we tend to think "sweet=good."

Introducing someone to wine can be a great deal of fun, especially if they invite you along to explore with them!

Picture from keralaarticles.blogspot.com.

Another blind tasting.

Last night, I had a friend over to taste some Chardonnays.  As a full disclosure, two of them were provided free to me at work, although I did buy the Hess.

We decided to taste the wines blind, in order to avoid any pre-existing bias that might come with the labels.  The procedure was pretty simple; I put the wine into paper bags, left them in the refrigerator overnight, and when he came over, I removed the foil and popped out the corks, so that each wine was anonymized to my friend.  I had him choose the order of tasting from the three, so that the wines were anonymized to me (fortunately, they all were in the same general shape bottle, and the bottles were the same color, otherwise we'd have had to enlist some third party to pour while we weren't looking).

The results were... interesting.  The three wines we tasted were Running With Scissors 2006, Coastline 2007, and Hess 2007.  The first wine carries a generic "Central Coast" appellation, while the latter two are from Monterey.  First up, we tried the Running With Scissors:

Pale lemon in the glass.  Inviting nose of creamy oak and tropical fruit.  Very ample intensity of flavor, with tasty oaky notes.  The fruit brings ripe Granny Smith apple to the party, some mango, and a good hint of butter.  Well-balanced, dry wine with a medium body and acidity.  Long finish.  86 points.

Then, the Coastline:

Straw-yellow.  Average intensity nose, showing some oak, pineapple, and a bit of cream.  In the mouth, it fell apart, though, with really ripe pear dominating, then a sort of dirty (as in, dirt-like) vanilla, and a steely, mineral finish.  Intensity was pretty low, and the quality of flavor was ordinary.  Just a hint of sugar on the palate, with a light/medium body, the balance is OK, but not great.  Finish is average.  81 points.

Finally, the Hess:

Mild nose, slightly creamy, with pineapple in evidence.  Flavor intensity to match, showing creamy pineapple, some toasted coconut, and not much else.  Wine was slightly sweet, with fairly high acidity to balance the weight of the wine, so it came off well-balanced.  Finish was average length.  81 points.

Note that all these wines were tasted blind.  I was shocked -- quite shocked, in fact -- at the quality levels of the wines, especially considering the price points involved; Running With Scissors is $10, Coastline is also $10, while I purchased the Hess for $8 (most stores seem to sell it for around $11 here, so I figured it was a fair comparison).  I'd expected a lot more oomph out of both of the Monterey wines, especially considering how much I like pinot noirs from that region.  In fairness, I don't expect a ton out of wines for $10, but those two showed surprisingly poorly last night.

Photo by DanRandom, used under Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 license.

Quite a bummer.

One of the less-expensive "cult wines" in my area is a Shiraz called Layer Cake.  It's made by Jayson Woodbridge, of Hundred Acre fame; the Layer Cake line is, as Mr. Woodbridge would say, a chance to bring global fine wine to the American consumer at a low cost.

My take on the wine?  It's repackaged bulk wine, harvested uber-ripe, with high residual sugar levels, and high alcohol.

In fact, the wine's factsheet (PDF) supports that idea: "For our Shiraz, we pull from vineyards all over McLaren Vale; from the full-clustered, sandy soiled blocks on the sea coast of Gulf St. Vincent, to the Terra Rosa based, tiny-berried wind-blown hills across the Vale.  The vineyards are all within a few miles of each other, yet give us a broad array of flavors to blend into a complete wine.  Each year we pull a small amount of fruit from tiny vineyards in Padthaway and Wrattanbully for added layers; combined they represent less than 10% of the blend."

Traslating: "We got grapes and/or juice from a ton of places, and threw it together."

Their tasting note?  "Dark, dense and creamy, complex aromas of black plum, Bing cherry, blackberry and pepper merge with licorice, tobacco, mocha and dark chocolate.  This is one inky Shiraz; an explosion of dark, super ripe, wild blackberry, with a touch of cigar box finishing with a mélange of exotic spices. A pure fruit bomb…complete from attack through a long, lingering finish."

My tasting note?

Inky black/red. Fairly strong nose of raspberry and some herb. In the mouth, the wine has some slightly velvety notes, and is reasonably weighty. However, it is quite hot (14.9% abv) and the alcohol throws it out of balance. Flavor profile is mainly towards the raspberry-and-slightly-spicy side, with some mint on the finish. Balance is, as noted before, off -- it's flabby. Finish is average-length.

If you like slightly sweet, flabby wine, this is great. For me, not so much.  83 points.

There just wasn't a lot to the wine.  Here's the fruit, lots of heat, some spice, and done.  Wham, bam, thank you ma'am.  No backbone, no subtlety.  I had been hoping for something with some structure, and wound up with alcoholic grape juice.  Sigh.  And I'm forced to wonder, why is it that people lust after this wine so much around here?

Sobon Estate: zinning in Amador

Full disclosure: I tasted these wines at a free tasting with the winemaker about 2 months ago.  I'm re-translating my notes (I keep them in a form of shorthand) from that event.

The first thing many of you may be wondering is, "where the heck is Amador, and why should I care?"  The Amador AVA is east of Sacramento, well inland from the coastal influences you find in Napa and Sonoma.  It's warm and dry during the growing season, and -- in my opinion, at least -- some of the best Zinfandel in California comes from there.  Certainly some of the best values in California zin are Amador county zins.  I've never seen an Amador zin over $26, and most of them are in the $10-$20 range.  So, it's a place rife with good value -- since you've likely not heard of it, neither have other shoppers, so there's not as much of a demand-based drive up in price.

My personal favorite producer in Amador County is Sobon Estate/Shenandoah Vineyards (hereafter referred to as just "Sobon.").  Sobon is a very green-friendly producer, growing organic grapes (no pesticides or herbicides), using solar power to minimize their carbon footprint (they actually sell carbon offset credits, since they create less CO₂ than they eliminate!), and best of all in my opinion, using Stelvin closures on most of their wines -- screw caps mean no corked wines, and no need for a tool to open up a bottle!

Their line includes a number of non-Zinfandel offerings; Sauvignon Blanc, Roussanne, Viognier, a zin rosé (not white zin!), Syrah, Cabernet Sauvignon, and Sangiovese round out their lineup for dry wines.  They also produce a Black Muscat, some Zinfandel-based Port, and a white Port based on their white Rhône varietals.  Their zins come in several lines -- Hillside, Old Vines, Cougar Hill, Fiddletown (from the AVA within Amador of the same name), and Paul's Vineyard.

OK, enough talking, time for some reviews.  First up, their 2007 Sauvignon Blanc:

Light yellow/green in the glass.  Shows nicely perfumed citrus in the nose. Apple, citrus and melon in the mouth, with a slightly herbaceous finish. Just enough acidity to be interesting, but not as zippy as comparably-priced Sauvignon Blancs from New Zealand.  Still, a tasty wine, good for light fish meals or just as an aperetif.  Great, if you like a slightly lower-acid Sauv Blanc.  85 points.

In the interest of fairness, I generally don't like California Sauvignon Blancs (give me the enamel-stripping acidity of New Zealand, or the elegant minerality of Bordeaux, or the light crispness of the Loire instead), but this one really is quite good in that genre.  It's not nearly as flabby as most, with enough acid and low enough residual sugar to be quite tasty, in fact.

Then, their 2007 Hillside Zinfandel.  I'll note that 2007 was a very good year for Amador Zinfandel -- ideal growing conditions through most of the summer -- so if you have the chance to get an '07 from there, do so.  Anyhow, the Hillside:

Garnet.  Nose shows blueberry and blackberry, with some darker notes of cocoa.  Similar in the mouth, some dark cherry, with the addition of a little eucalyptus/mint note on the finish. Nice, moderate tannins give the wine good structure.  The wine is moderately heavy, with a fairly long finish.  88 points.

Next, 2007 Fiddletown:

Bright ruby in the glass. Powerful nose of cherry and black pepper-esque spice.  In the mouth, shows off more of the fruit -- cherry and raspberry -- with a distinct undercurrent of charcoal and black pepper.  Powerful, deep wine, but still very well-balanced, with enough acidity and tannin to keep from being flabby.  Very long finish.  This is quintessential "steak wine," especially if you're grilling over coals and peppering the steak.  Great value.  Drink through 2019.  91 points.

Finally, their 2007 zin Port:

Dark red in the glass. Inviting nose, showing LOTS of plum and some raisin/prune notes. More of the same in the mouth; lots of fruit, some of it dried.  Just a hint of spice on the finish to show off the Zin character. Quite tasty. Good balance and finish.  A rich port, perfect for "dessert in a glass," or with cheesecake. 89 points.

So there you have four very nice wines.  And the best part?  Every one of them is under $25 -- at the winery's website, you can buy Fiddletown for $22 and the Port for $13 for a half-bottle.  The other two appear to be sold out at the winery, but my local wine store has them for $10 for the Sauvignon Blanc and $11 for the Hillside.